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doloresrojo · 3 years

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Hel’s Daughter

Notes: Although I've never read one of his books, I was inspired by Rick Riordan. I also took some elements of different works of fiction, like Francesca Simon's "The Monstrous Child", the History Channel show "Vikings", Neil Gaiman's "Norse Mythology" and other sources. English is not my native language, so there might be mistakes when it comes to grammar and spelling.

Hope you like it.

The word miracle didn’t exist for the old Norsemen; the concept was foreign to them. If you wanted the favor of the gods you had to take it through sacrifice and blood, prayers were not enough. The gods demanded action. Hel, the goddess of the dead, ruler of Helheim, receiver of those who died an unworthy dead, believed this just as much as the Aesir and the Vanir; and yet, she couldn’t think of a better word to describe the baby that was about to come out of her womb. For thousands of years the gods and goddesses had roamed Midgard coupling with mortals leaving offsprings everywhere. So far, Hel had been the only exception when it came to offsprings. Nobody told Hel that she couldn’t conceive, she just assumed it, after all, half of her body was a corpse. She thought that she wasn’t supposed to produce life, it was not her domain. But having a child had always been one of her deepest longings.

Hel was a witch too, her mother the giantess Angrboda was a völva, and a powerful one; Loki had not chosen her only for her beauty and wickedness; power attracted Loki more than anything, and before being separated from her children she had thought her daughter well. Hel could cast a spell for almost anything, but her favorite was the art of illusion. Hel could make the left side of her body, the one that was a corpse, complement the right one. She knew that the other gods disdained her appearance, and she had used that to her advantage, she loved to play with them, but when it came to mortal men she knew that she had to conceal that part of her if she wanted their attention. So she presented herself as a beautiful Nordic woman: fair skin and smooth as the ice, green eyes like a meadow in the spring, scarlet red lips and long blond hair that reached down to her waist. She looked like a princess from a fairy tale, ancient and mysterious.

The father of her baby was a young Irish musician that was living in London, one of her favorite places. He wasn’t particularly ambitious, he hadn’t left Ireland trying to make it big, he was a wanderer and an artist, a good one for that matter. At first Hel had been attracted to his voice, raspy but comforting, like whiskey running through your veins; then as she watched him she realized that he was shy and he was honestly baffled when someone showed interest in him, and it wasn’t an act; she could see it through her left eye, that eye could only see the truth; he knew her as Sigrid and for one night they worshiped each other. Trough sex, Hel was able to feel the rush that only living bodies feel, the feeling that she couldn’t completely have on her own. And this boy was good at what he was doing, despite of his clumsiness and hesitation, once he got confident he became aware of what his partner wanted and delivered. He wanted to see her again and she didn’t oppose the idea, she told him that she would come back; but she didn’t, not because she didn’t want to, she was expecting his baby and she didn’t know what to do. Hel never thought that she would have to deal with such a human and mundane situation.

The pain was excruciating, she had known pain but never like this. The pregnancy had not been an easy one, for the majority of the time she had to stay in bed, more than once the baby tore her left side almost coming out before time. She believed that if the baby was born dead she would be more angry than sad, all that pain for nothing; she longed for a child, yes, but now she felt bitter. The fates had given her so much sorrow: a deformed body, an untrustworthy, narcissistic and negligent father, a family broken by the fear of others, a kingdom that resented her no matter how much she cared of her subjects’ wellbeing. So no, she didn’t believe that the fates will let her have a piece of joy; her own piece of joy. She could have a corpse baby, ready to be put to the ground. A living corpse, cursed to be a living dead. A monster, just like her and her brothers, destined to endure the wrath of the gods.

“Just one more push, daughter, it’s almost here”. Angrboda was assisting her. When Hel arrived to Nifelheim her mother was already waiting for her; she had been killed not long after the gods had come for them.

“Pray to the Bloodmother”. Said Modgud, the giantess that guarded Gjallarbù, and her friend, who was supporting her back and holding her from the armpits.

With a cry that declared war she pushed as if her life depended on it, she felt her left side finally being ripped apart, and she collapsed on Modgud; she felt herself being dragged to unconsciousness, then a memory came out of nowhere: She was back at Jötunheim, with her brothers in her room, she was lying on Fenrir looking at the view from her window- ice mountains and snow being carried away by the wind- Jörmundgandr coiled beside them with Fenrir's tail rubbing him. Her sanctuary. She was brought back to reality by a high pitched baby’s cry. She opened her eyes and saw Angrboda, astonished, looking at the new born. With tears falling down her face she said:

“It is a girl, Hel. A beautiful baby girl”.

Using her remaining strength she sat up and held her arms out for her baby. What she looked was a healthy baby demigoddess, with ten fingers and ten toes, an upturned nose and a lot of hair on her head. Chestnut hair and brown eyes, just like her father.

“Thank you, Bloodmother. She has her father’s looks”.

Hel kissed her daughters forehead and wept; they were tears of happiness, her baby lived. And that was also the problem: No living being could live in Helheim, which meant that she could not stay with her, she had to live in Midgard. Soon she would have to let her go. The fates truly despised her.

***

No matter how much she hated the three dreadful sisters giantesses, they had the answer to her questions. She swaddled her baby and went to pay them a visit at the foot of the tree of life, the Yggdrasil. The sisters were beautiful, three maidens in the prime of their youth, who could believe that they were ancient and feared by gods and mortals alike?

“You took your time, queen”. Said Urd, the Norn that commanded over the past. She was picking up branches and leaves that had felt from above.

“But alas, no one can escape their fate. Not even a god”. Skuld, the one that presided over the future said, she was looking at the well of fate, the Urðarbrunnr.

Hel looked to Verdandi, the one that ruled the present, waiting to see if she had also something to say. She didn’t even acknowledged Hel, she just took a branch out of a basket and snapped it. Hel flinched and held the baby tighter, Verdandi had just terminated someone’s life. Tossing the branch she said:

“Don’t make that face, Hel. You are the queen of Helheim, death shouldn’t make you flinch. It is natural”.

“She is a mother now. Nothing will ever be the same for her”. A smiling Urd said.

Condescending bitch, thought Hel. Maybe it was the nerves but she was feeling mocked by the sisters. Either way, they were talking as if she wasn’t present.

“I am here…”

“Oh, we know”. Verdandi sounded exasperated, bored even. “You want to know what awaits to your child. Put her in the crib”.

A crib appeared at Hel’s feet, carefully she set the sleeping baby in the crib and the sisters stood beside it. They looked at the baby for what to Hel felt like centuries and then stared at each other. Urd was the first to speak:

“Your daughter is not like any other child a god has ever had; she is special, one of a kind. She is the only child you will ever have; she comes from the barest place in the nine worlds and holds so much power. She will be pure magic, she will be the one who will tip the balance when the end of everything comes”.

“You mean?”

“Yes. Ragnarök”. The sisters said in unison.

Ragnarök, the twilight of the gods. The prophecy had done so much damage already to her family. Fenrir was in Asgard, chained with a sword stuck in his mouth and Jörmundgandr was forced to hold the waters of the mortal world with his tale already in his mouth.

“How?”

“That is yet to be seen. Just like you queen, her part in it is yet not defined”. Answered Skuld.

“You wretched… tell me what you know!”

“Hush now. We don’t have all the answers, you already knew that before coming here. And you’d be wise to mind your words, unless you want her to have a similar fate like the rest of your kin”. Verdandi reminded Hel that they could tamper with fate how they saw fit, so it was wise no to offend them so they would be on her side.

Hel took a breath and swallowed her anger.

“Forgive me… I am scared. I don’t know what to do to protect her”.

The sisters softened at Hel’s turmoil. Skuld and Verdandi went back to their places, resuming their work, Urd picked the baby up from the crib and gave her back to her mother.

“You already know what you have to do to protect her, your child is not safe. She is in a very precarious situation. There is only one place were Odin, and Loki, might not find her that easily; your powers will be useful for that. Not to mention your love for her, that’s your greatest weapon against everyone that comes to harm her”.

***

After leaving the sisters Hel realized that she needed to act fast. It was only a matter of time for everyone in the Nine Worlds to find out about her daughter's existence; she had cast an invisibility spell on the baby to prevent Odin from seeing her in his dreams but that wouldn’t last forever. Loki was still bound inside of a cave for what he did to Baldr, but the fates had mentioned him and that didn’t surprise her; the gods didn’t understand the full extent of Loki’s powers; bound to a cave with a venom serpent over his head was not enough to contain him. She knew the place that the sisters meant, the one were her daughter would be safer: Midgard. The world of the mortals had changed and with it also Odin’s ability to see everything there; mortals moved faster in comparison to the old days. A lot of things were happening at the same time in Midgard, it was hard for the All Father to keep his eye on them.

Hel was dreading this, to let the father know of the existence of their child, but she didn’t trust anyone else with her daughter’s safety. She had seen his heart, he was a good person; still, she knew that she was asking for too much. They had been together only once and he was young, clearly not ready to be a father. She had to try though; and if he refused, well, she could force him to do it, but she didn't want to do that, because she wanted her child to be loved. Hel's mother loved her, she loved all her children, but not Loki, he didn't know how to love anyone. She wouldn't let her child to be with an unloving father, that wound never heales. So if he refused, she would find someone else to take care of her child. There was no other way.

***

The father’s name was Ciaran, little dark one. He didn’t usually have nice dreams, he always dreamed of unpleasant or strange situations that left him feeling confused or disturbed. However, this dream was extremely different. He was in a place surrounded by rocky cliffs enveloped in green foliage; there were rows and rows of mountains surrounding the land like a belt or a fortress. The wind was cold but it wasn’t unbearable and even though they were near the sea the wind was dry, it could burn your skin. The land had also sterile patches; this place was a harsh one. He heard a surge of water, even though he was now far from the sea, he thought it was a waterfall but the sound was inconsistent; it was a geyser, there were hot springs too. Amazed, he touched the water, warm, it felt so real. He wished he could stayed there forever. Just when he thought that this place couldn’t mesmerized him more, he saw a volcano, and it was not dormant, smoke came out of it.

He loved this place, wherever it was, and he knew it was real, it had to; he didn’t think his imagination as vivid as it was could produce such a place. His favorite part was the beach, with its soft black sand; he sat there for a long time, seeing the waves come and go, breathing the sea breeze. He felt in so much peace.

Hel had been watching this whole time. She was the one who orchestrated this dream; Iceland had always had a calming effect on her, she hoped that he would feel the same way. She felt guilty, she was about to ruin his good spirits. Ciaran heard footsteps, when he turned he found the most beautiful woman in the world. Sigrid, the lovely Sigrid. He laughed when he saw how she was dressed: A long emerald gown with gold and silver embroidery, a black fur cloak as long as her gown fastened with a small gold chain, a copper choker of a snake that ate its own tail around her neck, her impossibly long hair was braided and on top of her head was a crown made of bones and stones. Now, his dream was getting more usual: Nonsensical.

“What’s so funny?” Hel asked, teasingly.

“Nothing… I’m just being silly”.

They didn’t say anything, they just looked at one another.

“You look beautiful, Sigrid”.

“Thank you. Do you like this place?”

“I do, I have no idea where I am but I love it”.

Hel stood beside him and scooped some of the sand in her hands.

“It’s called Reynisfjara beach”.

Ciaran’s eyebrows shot up to the top of his forehead.

“The what?”

Hel chuckled.

“If it’s better, you may say that you’re in Iceland”.

“Really?” Ciaran asked.

“Yes”.

This was a dream, he knew it; but if that was true then why did everything felt so real. The sand that he took form Sigrid’s hands, the smell of salt, the cold wind on his skin, and her. Specially her. It was just as the last time, so natural and effortless. As if to prove himself that she was in fact real, he cupped her left cheek; being in the land of dreams made him bold. She just stood still.

“Where did you go, Sigrid?”

How she wished that she was Sigrid, that she was a normal human woman that could venture to have a relationship with him. Hear him sing his beautiful songs with his lovely voice and caress his skin to sooth away all of his sorrows. But she wasn’t Sigrid and she’ll never be, and there were more important things to talk about right now.

“My name is not Sigrid, I’m not who you think I am”. She removed his hand off her cheek and took a few steps back. Closing her eyes, she let her glamour drop.

She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes right away, so she listened. For a long moment he held his breath, he didn’t move, but his heartbeat sped up. When she finally opened them she saw him with his mouth agape and his eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. He backed away from her in horror. If you asked anyone, they would tell you that Hel had no heart, because it was in her corpse side, she couldn’t feel anything there. That was not true, in that moment she could feel her heart breaking. Not wanting to hear hateful words from his mouth she broke the silence.

“I am sorry for deceiving you, I promise you I meant no harm. My name is Hel, Norse goddess of the Underworld, of Helheim, daughter of Loki and Angrboda. And I need your help”.

Ciaran looked at her with suspicion but also with interest, when they met he had known that something was different about her, now he knew what was it. She turned so her right side faced him maybe that would make things easier for him. He came closer and turned her so he could see her completely. Hel hated to feel evaluated, normally she would punish on the spot anyone that dared to looked at her like this; still, she let him, she owed him this much. He put both of his trembling hands on both sides of her face, the corpse side didn’t feel as he thought it would; the flesh didn’t come off at his touch, there was no stench, in fact, she smelled sweet, too sweet, it was hard to describe. The air around her was colder and her right side felt unnaturally soft.

“Is this not a dream?” He asked still holding her.

“It is, I used magic to enter your dreams. I brought you here because I love this place, it soothes me. I hoped that it would do the same to you, that made easier what I’m about to tell you”.

“There’s more?”

Hel removed her cloak, revealing that she had been carrying a baby in her arms this whole time. Ciaran looked at the baby and then at Hel, comprehension slowly making way to his mind. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, he just looked at the baby.

“I thought that I couldn’t have children, I had been sleeping with mortal men for centuries and nothing ever happened. I don’t know why it was different with you”.

Ciaran didn’t know what to do. Maybe Hel was being manipulative, she took the opportunity to put the baby over his chest, and luckily he took her, maybe more as a reflex than a conscious move.

“She is in danger. She needs to hide from the other gods and from my father, I talked to the fates before coming to you. Our daughter is meant to bring balance when the end of the world comes; she is not like any demigod that’s ever existed. She will be hunt down if we don’t hid her from them”.

“Did you just say the end of the world?!”

“I know it’s a lot to take. But if you accept to be her guardian I will help you; I will be watching over you both, I will instruct you, my treasure is more abundant than the one that Odin keeps in his halls, I will provide for you. Anything you need”.

Ciaran shook his head, this didn’t make any sense. He was just a regular guy, how in the world was he going to be able to protect a demigoddess?

“I don’t… how will I…” Then the baby opened her eyes. She had his mother’s eyes, his eyes. Fatherhood and motherhood were supposed to be different, or so he was told. Fathers were supposed to take more time to feel a bond with their children, it was normal. But now holding this baby, he felt it, he felt that bond. This was his baby and he was her father, he was certain.

“What’s her name?”

“I haven’t named her. I was hoping you would choose a name for her”.

“I always liked the name Felicity for a girl”.

Felicity meant happiness and joy, everything that Hel was not. It was perfect.

“I love it”.

Ciaran smiled and touched Felicity’s little face.

“Ciaran, do you think you can love her? I want her to be loved not just protected. Do you think you can love her as her father?”

“I already do”. And by the gods he did. It was insane but it was true.

“I’m going to need your help, Hel. You will have to teach me, I don’t understand anything that’s happening and I don’t know how I’ll protect her from gods and such”.

“I will, no matter what. I swear”. Said Hel fiercely. She put on her cloak and took Felicity, hiding her once more.

“It’s not dawn yet in London, go back to sleep, Felicity will be there in the morning. I need to say goodbye first”.

Ciaran nodded, he doubted that he could go back to sleep, but Hel made sure of that with a sleeping spell. He would need all the rest he could get.

***

Back at Helheim, Hel asked her mother and her servants Ganglati and Ganglöt to go to her treasure hall and gather enough jewels and valuable trinkets to secure a substantial income for a year. Angrboda took a look at her daughter and understood what she was about to do; it pained her, but it was the right thing. She kissed Hel and left, Ganglati and Ganglöt behind her, moving at the speed of a snail. Hel adverted her eyes elsewhere and when she looked back at where the siblings were they were gone; most likely, they were already at the hall waiting for Angrboda. They were one of Helheim’s greatest mysteries, to this day Hel doesn’t know where they come from or why they move so slowly as long as they are being watched.

She sat on her bed, Sick-bed, the very same bed where Felicity was born. She retrieved a silver pendant of a rune from a jewelry box. She dangled it over Felicity’s head, the pendant catching the light of the fires illuminating the room, her little brown eyes following it.

“This is the Hagalaz rune; it’s a rune that is associated with me. It represents the wrath of nature, destruction, trials and testing and crisis that leads to completion. If anything the fates said is true then it represents you well, my love… a god cannot always be everywhere at once, I certainly can’t; this pendant will be my eyes and ears, as long as you wear it I’ll be able to know where you are and if you need my assistance. Never take it off”.

Hel chanted the incantation necessary to bind herself to the pendant, green light poured out of her hand and danced around the pendant settling in the rune. Felicity watched everything with a serene expression, as if magic was already normal to her, as if she hadn’t been born a few days ago.

“Felicity, if only I could let you know how much this hurts me. I dreamed of you for so long, forgive me. This is not what I wanted for you, for the both of us… I don’t know what your father will tell you about me, but rest assured your mother loves you, and I am willing to tear everything apart for you”.

***

Ciaran woke up in the morning feeling rested; it had been a while since he had slept so well. He stretched and savored the feeling before remembering everything. He stood up and looked around his room, and there she was. Felicity, his daughter. A bag was next to her basket on the floor, he knelt and peeked at the basket, she was awake, and in her tiny fist she was holding something, he took a closer look and saw that it was a necklace, a pendant of a rune. Even he had heard of runes, and he knew that this was meant for Felicity to have. He opened the bag and found jewels, golden coins and precious stones, Hel wasn’t kidding when she said that she had treasure. Now it felt truly real. The dream that Hel had called upon felt real enough, but now it had materialized. Last night he was a musician that worked odd jobs to get by and was content with being aimless, and now, he was a father, a father of a demigoddess. Hel had not been very specific about the dangers that followed Felicity, and now him he supposed; how was he going to explain this to his parents? To his friends, he needed help, he had to go back to Ireland. This was not going to be easy, even with Hel’s help and support, but he was up for it. Whatever was coming he would face it, he would be there for his daughter just like his parents were there for him no matter what.

***

Verdandi saw everything as it was happening. Hel resumed her role as the queen of the Underworld, pretending that her heart and mind were there, Loki was struggling and raging in his bonds and Odin was vigilant as always, but still unaware of the existence of Felicity. The father was preparing to go back to his homeland with his kin. He didn’t know what awaited them. Not even her and her sisters knew for sure. The pieces on the board that was Ragnarök were scrambled. Some of the pieces were still set in their rightful place: Fenrir was still going to kill Odin and Odin would kill him in return, Thor and Frey would perish as well, and so would Loki. Hel’s role was still unchanged; she would provide her father with an army of the dead but it seemed that the rest was up to her. After Ragnarök the world will be reborn, a new order will come; that’s were Felicty’s part comes in to action. She will either lead the gods in this new world or she will return to the giants what was taken away from them so long ago, as their ruler. Why was she the one bestowed with so much power? Simple, this girl had inherited the power of Ymir. Everything came from Ymir; the giants, the world as we know it, and even the gods. Odin and his brothers had killed Ymir, little did they know that had Ymir wanted to they could have killed them in the blink of an eye. They were nothing compared to Ymir, but Ymir had chosen to sacrifice themselves so marvelous things were born. Ymir was great, and the greatest thing about they was the purity of their heart. But Felicity was not Ymir, and it was yet to be seen if she possessed the same purity of heart. None of this worried Verdandi, whatever this girl happened to decide to do with her power was… unimportant. As long as the outcome was unchanged, the rest didn’t matter.

#hel norse goddess #norse mythology #helheim #ragnarok #paganism #pagan god #nordic paganism

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writerandee · 5 years

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Stages of Love - Part 2

Part 1 Here

Stages of Love Tag: @slowlyyoungangel @nowiloveandwilllove @deepestfirefun

One glance in the mirror was all it took for her to realize the obvious truth. Formal functions were not her cup of tea. Finding anything in her closet suitable to wear this weekend was hopeless. The only dress she owned, reminded her of something her great-great grandma would’ve worn. Definitely not striking or eye catching or remotely anything like a woman of this century would wear.

When did I last wear this anyway?

How do modern women do this every day? She was struggling with one outfit for one night. Imagine doing this every day. It was her worst nightmare. Dressing to impress is hard work.

But I’m not trying to impress anyone. Am I?

There was that drool worthy picture of the guest presenter, Richard Armitage. She did feel an immediate attraction to him but it was like seeing a celebrity in a magazine. Of course, they’re good looking, but you would never in your wildest dreams think anything romantic would be possible. That kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life. People like him are out of reach. He must have every single female on the planet lusting after him. She probably wouldn’t register on his radar.

It doesn’t matter what I wear, he’s not in town long enough for anything to happen.

She quickly pulled herself out of the momentary self-abuse and decided on an outfit. Her thoughts settled on a long black skirt with a slit that went as high as the thigh and a dark red form fitting lace top with elbow length sleeves that showed barely any cleavage. Hopefully it wouldn’t give Tim the wrong idea.

Oh god, I almost forgot about Tim!

This night would probably go a whole lot easier if she hadn’t agreed to go with him as his date. At least selling her books before the show gave her an excuse to avoid him for a while. Hopefully he wouldn’t hover.

He’d probably hover.

Her phone thankfully rang at this time disrupting all her thoughts of Tim. On the other end of the phone was her best friend and frequent coworker, Kayla. In fact, she would be helping Lily this Saturday sell books before The Crucible.

“Kay! I’m so glad you called. I wanted to ask if you were free Saturday before we have to be at the Opera House? I need someone to help me with my make-up. You know I have almost no skill in that department.”

“Of course, I’ll help you. But what about your outfit? Did you have to dust the moth balls off it?”

“Ha ha smart ass and no I didn’t, it’s not that old!”

“Okay whatever you say. Tim will be happy with whatever you’re wearing. Ew Tim. Why did you say yes?”

“Probably something to do with my inner compassion for all creatures big and small.”

“Lily, sometimes I believe sarcasm is your native language. Any way I’ll see you Saturday. Later!”

The hard part of getting prepared for Saturday night was over. Printing out flyers for the store and a sign to drape over the table for the pre-show was easier than putting together an outfit.

The remainder of the week breezed by with business as usual at her store. Nothing major or even interesting occurring. Kayla stopped by a couple of times to offer wardrobe and accessory suggestions for her chosen outfit. Everything she suggested was majorly over the top, completely wrong for her simple style. As a business professional and “respected” member of the community, the last thing she wanted to do was shine brighter than a disco ball.

Friday morning arrived and was becoming increasingly stressful. She received an email letting her know that some books she ordered for this weekend wouldn’t arrive in time. Feeling completely out of control and frustrated enough to throw something, she focused her attention on the cleanliness of her store. Organizing and cleaning happened to be her favorite stress relievers.

She was so engrossed in dusting shelves; she didn’t even hear the front door bell ring letting her know someone had entered the store.

“Excuse me, hello?” someone inquired from the front entrance.

Very few things in the world surprised her any more, but an English accent in Texas definitely shocked and surprised her. She almost dropped her dusting brush! Wiping away the dust from her clothes she quickly made her way to the front to help the man.

“Yes, back here!” She called from the back of the store. “Sorry about that. How can I help you?”

She came face to face with the man in front of her. He must’ve been a little more than six feet with a very impressive demeanor. He wore a pair of perfect fit dark wash jeans with a baby blue shirt that hugged his torso and a dark brown jacket. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled and combed to the side. She couldn’t get a good look at his eyes since he was wearing sunglasses, it was after all a bright and sunny day in this beach town sunglasses were practically mandatory. There was however something oddly familiar about him. He gazed upon her with a friendly smile.

“I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of historical fiction?”

His question disrupted the spell he cast over her. She quickly turned off the gawking and went in to customer service mode.

“Oh yes, it’s right over here. Follow me.”

She led him to the back of the store where row after row contained the historical fiction section. Even though his eyes were concealed behind sunglasses, she could sense his piercing gaze upon her back.

What’s this guy’s deal?

“Here we are, are you looking for anything specific?”

“No no. Just looking for something to help pass the time.”

“Well I’m sure you’ll find something.” She gave him an encouraging smile.

“Please let me know if you need any help. My name is Lily.”

“Lily, short for Lillian I’m assuming?”

Normally any one that dared to call her by her birth name annoyed her to pieces. But there was something about the way he said her name that gave her chills that ran down her spine and made her want him to keep saying it forever. Maybe Lillian wasn’t such a bad name after all.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Before she could feel any more overwhelming sensations about a brief encounter with a perfect stranger, she made her way to the back office for a glass of water and to catch her breath.

After a couple of minutes had passed, she heard the front door bell ring. A quick search of the shop revealed the mysterious English stranger had gone and, on the checkout counter was a $20 bill.

I wonder what he bought.

When she checked the historical shelves where he was browsing, she noticed a copy of The Scarlet Letter missing.

Maybe he will be at The Crucible tomorrow night.

His choice of book definitely hinted he might very well be.

#richard armitage #richard armitage x oc #real person fiction

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