6
After changing out of his bloody clothes in Asgard and donning his familiar olive-green jacket and tan pants—the style almost identical to what he’d worn during the war—Bernard transported to the only place that seemed to give him any peace of mind. Alfheimr. The usual quiet and tranquility of the Elves’ new world always seemed to soothe his mind and his spirit when he was troubled.
With his hands clasped behind his back, he paced in the bright sunshine and chilled air near the shining copper fountain in the central square, trying to figure out his next move, but thoughts of his bewitching white-haired partner kept intruding, her pretty face staying in his mind’s eye and refusing to leave...but, why?
Why did she have such a hold over him? In the years he had known her, he’d thought her to be a little standoffish, shy maybe, and more than a bit mysterious. There was something about her he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He rubbed a nagging ache on his chest, the devastated look in Alva’s eyes when she’d spotted him in the dungeon haunting him.
Forcing his thoughts back to the plan he had hatched in front of the God’s Glass, which now seemed farfetched and a huge gamble. But could he carry it out, nevertheless? Could he risk everything his new friends had accomplished to recover everything he had lost? Did he dare...?
“Bernard! Why are you wearing a path in my newly grown lawn?” Ailuin lightly slapped Bernard’s back with one hand as he fell into step beside him. “I can feel your angst a mile away, my friend, so give.”
Bernard pushed back his inner aggravation and shrugged. “Just trying to figure out my next move...now that the war is over, there isn’t much to do.”
“What are you thinking? I know my brother and I would love to have you stay here with us. We need all the help we can get rebuilding Alfheimr.”
“I’m certain you and Lamruil can handle things on your own. You are co-regents, after all. I would just be in the way.”
“Pfft! That’s ridiculous and you know it. You have amazing ideas and are a definite boon when discussing battle strategies and defensive measures. My brother and I value your input. You have a real knack for seeing things clearly, while the two of us tend to focus on the minutia, then argue with each other at length about each point.”
Bernard shrugged with a quick laugh. “Well, you are brothers—and twins, to boot. You and Lamruil are too much alike in some ways and complete opposites in others. Lamruil just needs to sit back and relax more while you work on your concentration skills. Although, maybe you should try to find him a girlfriend?”
A horrified expression crossed Ailuin’s face. “Bite your tongue! I am not a marriage service and refuse to find a girl for my brother. Besides, there are so few elf women left...” his voice trailed off, his blond brows drawing together in a scowl.
“I’m sure there are hybrids out there like your wife. Raisa is a blend of both human and god, and the two of you fit perfectly together. You just need to keep an open mind and continue searching. After the Great War, where did the survivors go?”
“We think the majority escaped to Midgard, but a few have been located in Niðavellir and Helheimr. The problem isn’t so much not enough women, it’s because the different elf cultures refuse to blend. The Dökkálfar are dark elves, Svartálfar are black elves, and lastly, the Ljósálfar are the light elves.”
“We have problems like that on Earth…sorry, Midgard. Helheimr I recognize, but where is Niðavellir?” Bernard sat on the edge of the circular fountain base.
Ailuin stopped, evidently realizing he no longer paced beside him. Turning back, he chose to stand rather than sit and folded his arms across his chest. “Niðavellir is the home of the dwarves. It means dark fields in Old Norse and is an apt description of the gloomy caves where they reside. Their underground cities, however, are quite opulent, covered with their mined precious metals and gems. They are extravagant. Too much for my taste. I prefer simple things.”
“Good thing you married me then, isn’t it?” Raisa laughed as she ducked under his arm and snuggled against Ailuin’s side. They, like the other three Night Witches and their mates, were perfect couples. A twinge of jealousy flared to life deep inside his chest. He’d had that once, not too long ago. He wanted to feel his wife and children in his embrace, his wife’s soft lips on his and his children’s small arms wrapped around his neck.
At that moment, Bernard decided he would do whatever it took to be with his family again, even if that meant traveling back in time and saving them. There was potentially only one person standing in his way. Heimdall.
“Ailuin, what do you know about Heimdall?”
Bernard tried not to watch as Raisa played with her husband’s long white-blond hair, repeatedly twisting the strand around her fingers. He focused his gaze on the elf’s handsome face. Well, not handsome. If anything, the identical twin co-regents of Alfheimr were beautiful. As a male, he usually didn’t notice things like that, which he’d always thought stupid, but, of course, men noticed beauty. They also saw ugly, but that was acceptable. He would never understand social norms.
“Not much, actually. I know he’s the gatekeeper for the Bifröst and, if anyone manages to break into Asgard, he will sound his horn, which alerts Óðinn and his son, Thor.”
“Can he really see the future?”
With a quick downward glance at his wife, he returned his sharp blue stare to Bernard. “I can’t answer that. It’s...complicated.”
“Complicated. That’s your answer?”
Ailuin shrugged. “It’s the best answer I’ve got.”
“What do you mean by complicated?” Bernard tried to stifle his building frustration and knew he failed when the elf’s lips twitched in amusement. “Either he can, or he can’t.”
Raisa shook her head. “That’s not true. From my understanding, Heimdall can see anyone in any world, both their past, present, and future. However, if you mean the broader-based future, no, I don’t believe he can see that. Like Ailuin said, it’s complicated.”
Bernard’s frowned deepened to a scowl. “More like convoluted.”
“Why don’t you get Heimdall to explain it?” she asked.
“I don’t think Heimdall would answer if I did ask. I don’t believe he likes me very much.” Both Raisa’s and Ailuin’s lips twitched. Thankfully, neither laughed at him.