Chapter 8: Chapter eight

Dresses, cosmetics, a beautiful tea set, an assortment of spices and tea leaves; the list of gifts filled three pages, specifying everything which had been gifted by the Seelie high king. 

Amusingly, the item Sorcha marked with the highest value was the Caffar nuts. The king had sent six crates of unprocessed Caffar nuts, and three tins of ground Caffar. 

“These rooms are a lot nicer than the one from earlier,” Sorcha commented as she darted in and out of the bedroom room, hanging up the various dresses whilst making notes on what adjustments would be needed for each to properly fit. 

The guest suite we now occupied was separated into four rooms; a spacious receiving room, bedroom, a medium sized dressing room, and ensuite bathroom. Luxury furnishings imported from Múspellsheimr decorated each room, with the colors of green, gold used throughout. 

 

“This is the suite Lord Fergus had furnished for his father’s rare visits, and I say rare, because this is the first I have heard of it happening.” I commented as I inspected the crates containing the Caffar nuts. What was I supposed to do with so many raw nuts? They needed to be roasted, and ground into powder, not something I could do here.

“Sorcha, whose goodwill would benefit me in court?” 

“That’s a complex question, my moon.” Sorcha hummed, admiring a dress of gold silk. “There are many you need to gain favor with, however, if selecting only one I would suggest Hertogi Lýðar. His hertogadømi was the most affected by the trade issues with the Ljósálfar.”

I furrowed my brows. Hertogi Lýðar oversaw Mistrfjallborg, one of the largest hertogadømi in Svartálfaheimr. It sat within the mountains which separated Svartálfaheimr from Álfheimr, and it was through the mountain passage overseen by Hertogi Lýðar that most trade with the Ljósálfar took place. This led to the Hertogadømi being very prosperous despite its rugged terrain, but without that trade they would have suffered a great loss. 

 “Yes, I can see how they would have suffered with the ongoing trade embargo.” I mused, tracing a finger over the edge of one crate. “Sending Caffar as a gift could be seen as mocking his lack of the product. Mayhap I shall send it to faðir, urging him to rectify the issues with the Ljósálfar.” 

Sorcha muttered a soft “Ick,” her little nose wrinkling as she discarded a rather frumpy looking gown. “The Ríkrtungl, and Ríkrsunna have spoken on many occasions regarding this matter, however no agreement has been forthcoming, as neither can agree to terms that will appease both sides.” 

“And what does the Ríkrsunna seek in exchange for ending the trade embargo?” I asked, raising a brow at the discarded dress. Did anyone truly think such a monstrosity was fashionable?

The Pixie hesitated, her eyes darting between Lady Isabel and Helma before coming back to me. “His third dóttir as bjartr stjarna of the Ríkrtungl.” 

My eyes narrowed. The title of the great moon’s bright star was one granted to the highest ranked concubine in the hirð, a title that my móðir carried after my conception. Faðir still wore her band in the bright star position, which showed that she retained the title even in death, but if he removed it, she would lose the title. My corresponding band would shift to sit alongside that of my faðir, and my móðir would cease to exist in the rankings of his hirð.

“Faðir refused?” I questioned, seeking confirmation of what I already suspected. 

“The matter is still being discussed.” The Pixie said softly, her gaze lowered to the floor. “The third princess is due to visit Svartálfaheimr during the harvest moon, but nothing has been decided beyond that.” 

I stared down at the crate of Caffar nuts, silently wishing I possessed the fire mægen of the Seelie fae so I could set the entire thing ablaze. 

The decision of the Ríkrsunna made little sense. Faðir didn’t have any interest in female concubines, and the likelihood of her being able to share his bed was slim. Many women sought the attention of my faðir, but few succeeded. The great sun should have offered a male concubine, and prayed he could attract Helvern’s attention, for it was the consort that decided who would join the royal pair in bed. 

“Sorcha, discreetly let it be known I would oppose my faðir naming a new bjartr stjarna.” 

“Elayna,” Mai’s voice held a note of caution as she spoke my name, but I held up a hand to silence her.

“I will not change my mind on this matter,” I said, glancing over at the Pixie who inclined her head. 

 “I shall see it done, my moon.” Sorcha said as she dipped into a curtsy. 

 I nodded, picking up one of the round Caffar nuts, and rolling it between my fingers. “How many nuts are used for a pot of Caffar?” 

“One nut, per serve depending on how strong they like their brew. Two, or even four servings if they are conserving it.” Mai answered, her fingers latching onto one of the crates which she dragged into a corner of the room, indicating her ownership of that particular crate. 

 “Sorcha, please take a crate out to Stallari Nyx. The Skutilsveinr can decide amongst themselves how it will be distributed, but take into consideration those who are soon to arrive.” 

The Pixie nodded, moving over to the crate which lifted into the air, and floated along beside her as she headed for the door. 

That left the remaining crates, which I would decide what to with at a later time. I didn’t personally have a taste for the bitter brew, as I enjoyed sweeter things, so I didn’t see the need to keep the crates of raw Caffar for myself. A few tins of processed Caffar powder would be enough to serve any guests I may entertain. 

Noting that the time for the feast was approaching, I headed for the ensuite bathroom, intending on making use of the large bathtub for a soak before I needed to get ready. Mai followed me into the bathroom, moving to begin filling the bath as I stripped off my gown. 

“Provoking the Ljósálfar is not wise in your current position, tensions between the kingdoms are already high.” Mai said. 

“Not a provocation,” I sighed, sitting on the edge of the tub to allow the shorter woman easier access to my hair so she could unbraid it. “I have made no official statement, and any rumors of my displeasure over the taking of a new bright star can be claimed false if need be.” 

Mai clicked her tongue, tugging lightly on a braid. “Rumors can be even more damaging than a poorly made statement.” 

“I shall bear that in mind.” 

Sliding into the heated water, and feeling it hug every inch of my body so gently, it was as if all the stress of the past days disappeared. Breathing in the sweet, spicy aroma of the oils which Mai massaged into my hair, my eyes drifted closed, as I let myself fall into the peaceful abyss of relaxation. 

All too soon Maitane was wrapping me in a towel, and running an ornate silver brush through my hair. Warm air blew across my scalp with each stroke of the brush, drying my wet hair, and straightening out the few wavy kinks inherited from my móðir. 

When we exited the bathroom, only Sorcha remained in the suite, as Lady Isabel had left for her own rooms to get ready for the feast. 

With a beaming smile, Sorcha held up a beautiful off the shoulder gown that was made from a dark purple material. Brows creased, I looked at the gown's full length skirt, and modest bodice. It was beautiful, but the design did not fit the norm of what I knew Dökkálfar noblewomen wore. 

Seeing my expression, Sorcha’s smile faltered. “Do you not like it, my moon?” 

“It is beautiful Sorcha,” I murmured, glancing at the dresses on display in the dressing room, all had the same full length style. “Has the fashion of Svartálfaheimr truly changed so much? When I was younger, such modest dresses would be sneered upon.” 

The Pixie sighed, nodding her head. “These styles are currently very fashionable as they are all styled after those popular in Álfheimr.” 

I arched a brow, eyeing the dress skeptically. “And we’re following Ljósálfar fashion trends because?” 

“With the trade embargo, the price of goods imported from Álfheimr soared.” Sorcha explained. “The more expensive they became, the less attainable they were, which increased their popularity with the nobles.” 

“I am not a Ljósálfar,” I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. “Do you know the fashions of Svartálfaheimr that were popular before the embargo?” 

“Yes, my moon, I do.” Sorcha hesitated her gaze darting to the dressing room. “I would need some time to adjust your current wardrobe.” 

“Do what you can for tonight's dress, and we can review any design ideas you might have in the morning.” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. 

She nodded, looking thoughtful as she gazed down at the dress in her hands. Her wings fluttered behind her, picking up speed as she darted into the dressing room where the chest with her tools sat. 

Floating out of her hands, the dark purple gown floated in the air, its skirts flaring out as a pair of scissors sliced through the light silky material. The scissors, and dress danced through the air like puppets on the strings of the Pixie’s magic. A pair of needles threaded themselves, and joined the dance, sliding in and out of the material. 

As Sorcha focused on the dress, Maitane styled my hair into a side braid, using some of the material cut from the dress to thread into the braid. 

Looking through the box of cosmetics, I found a silver eyeliner, which shimmered beneath the room's lights. “Maitane, do you recall how my móðir drew her antlers?” 

The Húsvættir smiled, inclining her head as she took the cosmetic pencil. “You wish the same?” 

“Yes, until faðir sends my antlers, I shall wear them as móðir did.” I said, tilting my head back to allow the woman access to my face. 

It was frowned upon for those not of Dökkálfar blood to wear an antlered headpiece, even if they were members of a hirð. Thus, those of other kingdoms who resided in Svartálfaheimr would find other ways to show they were citizens of our kingdom. Some would wear necklaces with a pendant styled like antlers, or they would draw them onto their body, as my móðir did. 

Starting at the center of my brows, Maitane drew a pair of delicate four pronged antlers which arched across my forehead. Then she lined my eyes in the same silver, pairing it with purple eyeshadow, and a neutral lipstick.  

Finished with my hair and make-up, I stood to inspect the gown Sorcha was altering. The Pixie hovered in the air, a notebook clutched in her hands as she scribbled within it in a near frantic manner. 

“Is the dress ready, or do you require more time?” I asked, seeing that her tools were once more packed away in the chest. 

“I am finished,” she exclaimed breathlessly, her copper eyes shining with excitement. “My moon, thank you for allowing me the chance to have more creative freedom with your gowns. You are the Smártungl, so of course you shouldn’t follow the trends set by others.” 

The gown's bodice now sported a plunging neckline, and a scooped back. Sorcha had also cut a slit in the skirt, which stopped a few inches short of showing off my black panties. 

Admiring the completed ensemble in the mirror, I gave a nod of approval. 

“Much better.” I praised.

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 The Pixie beamed, not even complaining when I slid on a pair of silver heels. Soon I would send someone to seek out Meallán, the leipreachán to see if he could be persuaded to make better ones, but for now I was stuck with the human made stilettos. 

Turning to face the two, I ran an assessing eye over their appearance. Sorcha wore a dress similar to the one she had on the previous day, this one light purple with silver beading over the bodice. Maitane on the other hand, kept her clothing simple with a modest gray dress. 

“Well then, shall we head for the dining hall?” I asked, heading for the door. As we reached the door, Helma appeared beside it, and followed us out into the hall. 

The main dining hall for the enclave was located right next to the building's entrance, and as we descended the stairs from the upper levels, I noted the entry room was filled with clustered groups of people. No one appeared to be going into the dining hall, and I soon saw the reason. 

On either side of the doorway leading into the dining hall stood a pair of Skutilsveinr, with two Garmr sitting at their feet. They were not blocking the door, nor were they preventing anyone from entering, but their presence alone was enough that most would be unwilling to approach. 

Deciding to lead by example, and hopefully soothe the worries of the enclaves' residents, I approached the Skutilsveinr, and held out my palm for the nearest canine to scent. 

The Garmr released a soft growl, its ears perking up as the burning orange eyes locked on my left thigh. Growling came from my shadow in response, and I spoke a soft command to silence Æsa, lest she leap from the shadows to challenge the other Garmr. 

The Skutilsveinr spoke their own commands to silence their Garmr, but I shook my head to stop them with a smile. “Let them do their job.” 

 Removing the dagger sheathed on my upper thigh, I handed it to the Skutilsveinr before allowing the Garmr to scent me again. The dark hound sat down, his ears dropping from their attentive position. 

“Your dagger, my moon.” The Skutilsveinr said, giving a bow as he handed me back the blade. 

I took the dagger, re-sheathing under the watchful gaze of the Garmr. The royal Garmr were specially trained to scent a variety of things; weapons, poisons, even certain types of mægen could be detected by the creatures. Not only that, but having them scent each guest meant they would be able to track them later if something happened, and they fled the area. 

“So they are like the sniffer dogs at the airport.” 

That comment made my lips twitch, and I looked over my shoulder to see two familiar red haired girls. Mackenzie stood off the side, with her younger sister half hidden behind her, their mother nowhere in sight. 

“They’re kind of cute if you squint your eyes.” Anna whispered from behind her sister, her eyes crinkled as she stared at the Garmr. 

“Not quite sniffer dogs, but close enough.” I said, not bothering to say anything regarding the cuteness of the Garmr. They were hounds of darkness, not poodles, they weren’t meant to be cute.  

Mackenzie, and Anna stiffened, their eyes going wide as they realized they had been overheard. The freckles scattered over their cheeks stood out in stark contrast to their suddenly pale cheeks as they stared at me. A frazzled red haired woman came bursting out of the crowd, her expression verging on distraught as she gathered up her children. 

“Please, please don’t hurt them! They’re only children,” Pamela sobbed as her daughters cowered behind her. 

My heart felt heavy in my chest as I stared at the trio. Not even a week ago Mackenzie, and Anna had been at the townhouse being babysat by Mai whilst their mother worked. Memories of braiding Anna’s hair, and helping Kenzie with her homework were fresh in my mind. 

A hand pressed against the small of my back, the familiar warmth of Mai’s mægen washing over me as she prodded me into the dining hall. I turned away from the red haired family, shoving away the hurt, and anger at their actions as I strode into the hall. 

The dining hall was a spacious room, with high ceilings, and stain glass windows. Dozens of rectangular tables were positioned on either side of the room leading up to a long table at the far end, forming a U shape. The end table sat upon a raised dais, with three steps leading up, allowing for the enclave’s lord, and his chosen guests to look down on the hall. 

Ard Tiarna Cináed was already seated at the high table, and to the Ard Tiarna’s left, my aunt sat in a emerald green dress that clung to her curves, and dipped low at the front. Lord Fergus was nowhere to be seen, which meant he was either running late, or no longer attending the meal.

“Blessuð nótt, Smártungl Elayna.” The two Aos sí nobles spoke in unison as they rose from their chairs.   

“Blessuð nótt,” I said, leaving off any titles from my response. 

Seated in the center chair that was normally reserved for Lord Fergus, I gazed out at the hall, noting that only a small number of the enclave’s people sat at the tables, and they were seated far away from the Dökkálfar. The remaining tables were occupied with a few Aos sí guards who accompanied Ard Tiarna Cináed. 

After seeing me seated, Maitane, and Sorcha departed the high table, heading to join one of the nearby lower tables. 

 Two of the Skutilsveinr from my escort took up positions standing in the corners of the hall behind the high table, with Helma directly behind my chair, and the third moving to stand beside the door from which the staff serving the meal would enter. 

Seated on my right, Ard Tiarna Cináed reached for a silver jug, pouring the contents into a goblet, which he offered to me with a smile. “Smártungl, would you be opposed to removing the Garmr at the doors into the shadows? I have requested all who belong to the enclave join us tonight, however some are refusing to enter with the presence of the Garmr.” 

As the lord spoke, Æsa appeared from within my shadow to recline at my feet. I swirled the contents of the goblet, and a faint snuffling could be heard from the canine as she scented the air. “I will concede on this matter to ease the fears of those who reside within the enclave, however it shall be for this night alone.” 

 When Æsa gave no indications of concern, I brought the goblet to my lips, and took a small sip, savoring the long forgotten taste of home. The wine was a deep magenta in color, with a sweet floral aroma. 

Rasira, that was the name of the flower used to make this wine. The purple beautiful flowers bloomed only at night, their petals glowing, and luminous. It was said the flowers were a gift from Sol to her brother Máni, a beautiful blossom that he could enjoy even on the darkest night when his moon did not shine. 

“You have my gratitude,” Ard Tiarna Cináed said, inclining his head. 

I did not respond to his words as I lifted a hand, and made a basic hand gesture. Moments later, Nyx was kneeling in front of the table, having responded to the non-verbal summons. 

“Have the Skutilsveinr at the doors withdraw their Garmr into the shadows, so as not to distress the faint of heart.” I ordered, making a second gesture to convey they were to be on guard.  

Whilst the Garmr could carry out the task of searching for weapons and poisons from within the shadows, their senses would be dulled, resulting in a chance that something may make it past their noses. The lord's request may have come out of concern for the enclave’s people, but I could not overlook the possibility of ill intent. 

With the Garmr withdrawn the hall slowly filled with members of the enclave, all of whom kept to one side of the room, leaving the tables on the opposite side for the Dökkálfar, and Seelie guests. 

As the hall continued to slowly fill with people, the Ard Tiarna asked several questions regarding what I knew of the enclave's current status. I spoke at length about the lack of training for the guardians, and Lord Fergus’s proclivity for luxury goods, which meant there was little money left for the enclave. Members of an enclave paid a residential fee to the lord each year, with the money going towards the upkeep of the enclave, and the guardians who protected the residents of the city. At its prime, over a thousand had called New York home, but the ill-management of Lord Fergus saw the enclave fall into a steady decline. Now there were only three hundred people under the protection of the New York enclave. 

“I have seen the records kept by Fergus, and you are correct that he has mismanaged his duties as lord.” Cináed admitted, giving a light shake of his head. “My guards have found several tears in the veil which have been open for a long time without being sealed, it will not be an easy task to regain control over the city. The boogie you spoke of is not the only thing infesting the sewers. We have discovered signs of what appeared to be a large colony of goblins, three nests have been located so far, and I believe with the size of the city, there will be many more.” 

My hand froze with the goblet I held halfway to my mouth, my mind stuttering as it tried to process everything the Aos sí lord said. A colony of goblins beneath New York? The Fir Darrig only mentioned a Boogie in the sewers not- The Fir Darrig’s words played through my mind, “not just all the gobs around.” He had mentioned the goblins, I simply hadn’t been paying enough attention. 

“My Skutilsveinr are available to assist with culling out the goblins,” I said, forcing myself to lower the goblet I held. 

 “I am sure they will be most proficient at it.” Ard Tiarna Cináed declared, his eyes looking around the hall. “It seems the last of our guests have arrived.” 

I followed his gaze, seeing the tables were now full for the most part, with only a few gaps on the side of the room my Skutilsveinr sat on. 

I looked around the room, noting with interest that only my Skutilsveinr stood guard, and the number of Seelie Aos sí in the hall had decreased to only a handful. 

Something isn’t right. My eyes narrowed as I counted the Seelie guards. Six, there were only six members of the Ard Tiarna Cináed’s retinue in the hall. Were they out hunting goblins? 

“- the high king’s beloved garneacht, Smártungl Elayna av Svartálfaheimr.” 

I plastered a polite smile on my face as I realized Ard Tiarna Cináed had moved to stand before the high table, and was giving an introductory speech. I had been so caught up with the missing Seelie guards that I hadn’t even noticed him get up from the chair beside me. 

“His esteemed majesty has heard how his beloved Elayna has enjoyed her short visit to New York, and as such, he has decided to bestow it upon her as a gift in celebration of her coming of age! From this day forth, the lands known as New York shall belong to her highness, Elayna Mírya, Smártungl av Svartálfaheimr, Nineteenth Princess of the Seelie court.” 

A soft buzzing filled my ears, and my stomach decided it no longer enjoyed the Rasira wine I had drunk. I stared at the Ard Tiarna Cináed with wide eyes, not entirely certain if I had imagined the words which spewed from his mouth. 

Turning to me, the green-haired Aos sí set a rolled up piece of parchment on the table along with a golden tiara, and gave a low sweeping bow. “His majesty bids you enjoy your new holdings, and invites you to play again when you have grown some more.” 

With a wide grin, the Ard Tiarna Cináed clicked his fingers, and disappeared in a flash of green light, taking his guards with him. How dare he! This trash heap of an enclave was his mess to clean up, not mine.

Lady Isabel smothered a giggle as I reluctantly picked up the scroll, and tiara. “Your faðir warned you playing games with the high king would end in your loss, niece.” 

“Are you sure about that Lady Isabel of New York,” I hissed under my breath. “Someone will need to oversee the enclave on my behalf, who better than my dearest aunt?” 

“Do you forget I am the Unseelie high courts ambassador to Svartálfaheimr?” She smirked, picking up her wine filled goblet. “Your people are waiting, my moon. Time for your first royal speech. Think of it as good practice for when you return to court.”

Forcing my face back into its mask of impassivity, I rose from my chair, and gazed out at the people gathered in the hall. Their expressions ranged from shock to sheer terror, and I didn’t know how to soothe them.

“I know for many of you this has come as a surprise.” I began, staring into the faces of the enclave’s residents as I pressed a hand to my chest, schooling my expression into one that I hoped conveyed a sincerity.  “I see the fear on your faces, hear the murmured questions as to if you will be safe within an enclave ruled by the Dökkálfar. We are not evil beasts as the former lord would have you believe, we are people like you, and you- you are our people. I am sure some of you have already heard the rumors of creatures appearing in the city as of late. Creatures that the guardians have struggled to deal with. This is not a reflection upon them, but on the manner in which Lord Fergus mismanaged the running of this enclave.” 

Raising a hand, I gestured to the Skutilsveinr who rose from the tables to stand with their hands pressed to their hearts. “The Dökkálfar shall hunt without mercy, ridding this city of the vermin who have infested it. The Dökkálfar shall protect each and every member of this enclave; we will not abandon you when difficulties arise as others have. This small moon shines upon all within this hall, and her light shall never dim.” 

 As one, the Skutilsveinr let out a cheer, and to my relief, their voices were joined by several of those from the enclave. I wasn’t foolish enough to think a speech like that would win them over, the fear they felt would not wane so easily, but it was a start. 

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