“Does Skathi know? About me, I mean?”
“Skathi knows everything and says very little about any of it,” Thor says. “You remain a mystery.”
Those words are my doom.
He can’t tame me because he doesn’t understand me. That’s not his fault. I don't understand me either. A heaviness is setting into my soul, a sort of inevitability that makes me start to accept what I cannot change. Thor and I are not going to be together. Not now. Not ever. It’s like Skathi said. There’s fate here, not fickle fortune. Something stronger, something inexorable that is pulling us apart no matter how hard we try to come together.
The hour is late and once more I find myself outside the house. Thor and I spent the rest of the day separate, brooding to ourselves. I should be grateful that I have a roof over my head and food in my belly, but the thing about unrequited love is that it makes all the basics in life feel irrelevant.
The night is beautiful. From the house I can see not only the stars, but the church below. It is stunning. And wonderful. And a once in a lifetime view. Snow has fallen and covered the craggy ground, making the landscape pure and pristine. I am very fortunate to be seeing it. And I’m too pissed off to enjoy it. Because I think I might be heartbroken. I’m not sure.
Thor can’t get past the fact his dumb hammer works for me. He doesn’t see it as something that connects us in a good way. He sees it as some strange burden, and now I feel like I've forced myself on someone I never intended to.
Maybe I’m not pretty enough for him. That's it. He needs some willowy, elegant creature like Bryn’s Nina. She’s stunning. And I’m just a rubbish-eating local from Direford. He knows I’m rubbish too.
I know I should just leave, but I’m not entirely sure how I'd do that. I don't know how to harness horses to a carriage, and I can't fly a plane. There must be roads in and out of this place, but I have no money, and no passport, oh, and I’m fucking wanted.
This is not a good moment to realize that I’ve lost absolutely everything and yet, here it is. I have nothing. I don't even have someone who will feed me expired food anymore. I feel pathetic, and weak, and unwanted. I'd cry, but I'm afraid the tears would freeze against my cheeks and make me even more sad and pathetic.
“You are angry, child.”
I am no longer alone. She is suddenly beside me. Thor’s maternal goddess. I don’t really want to talk to anybody, but you can’t tell a goddess to go away. At least, probably not without serious consequences, and I have enough of those for the moment.
“Yes, I am.”
“You want revenge.”
“No. Not particularly.”
“Pity. I was always very good at revenge,” Skathi sighs. "What are you angry at?”
Now that I know she’s a goddess, I find myself biting my tongue. Doesn't seem like a good idea to annoy her. Am I afraid of her? Yes. I am not afraid of much in this world, but this woman is not of this world. She is the embodiment of deep, old, cold things, and she has an agenda.
“Your son,” I say.
“Ah. He has angered you. Men often have that effect on women. And in turn, women confound men. I believe he is confounded by you.”
“Is there some way of unbinding me from him? I know he doesn’t want me. I took his dumb hammer because he had it out, exposed, and now because I killed someone with it…”
“No," she says.
“No?”
“The hammer is an extension of his will. Not yours. The hammer did not save you. He defended you. He opened up the skies to allow you to escape, and he took you into his arms. You did nothing. Except take what called to you.”
“But he doesn’t want me.”
“Thor is a man who has never known what he wanted until he lost it. He is brave, and he is strong. He is kind, in his own way. And he is constant. But he has never known love.”
“Never?”
“Never," she says. “I returned his breath to him, but there are some things that die with a person when they die. I believe the heart may be one of them. He cannot love you because he cannot love anybody.”
“But he seems so normal. At least…”
“Normal. Compared to what?”
“Compared to anybody. Bryn. He’s a bitter old priest…”
“I'm familiar with Father Bryn. He is not a good comparison. He is not heartless, but he is devoid of soul. Don’t assume that because Thor has a better grasp of social behavior he knows how to care the way a man without his pain might.”
I don’t know if she is trying to make me feel better, but she is not. She is making me feel substantially worse, in fact. I can’t even hope that he might come to love me, because according to this goddess, he can’t.