Lofoten Islands, Norway
MYTHOLOGY MEME ~ [6/8] Legendary Creatures ~ Unseelie Faeries
The Unseelie Court consists of the darkly-inclined fairies. Unlike the Seelie Court, no offense is necessary to bring down their assaults. As a group (or “host”), they appear at night and assault travelers, often carrying them through the air, beating them, and forcing them to commit such acts as shooting elfshot at cattle. Like the beings of the Seelie Court who are not always benevolent, neither are the fairies of the Unseelie Court always malevolent. Most Unseelies can become fond of a particular human if they are viewed as respectful, and would choose to make them something of a pet. Some of the most common characters in the Unseelie Court are Bogies, Bogles, Boggarts, Abbey Lubbers and Buttery Spirits. The division into “seelie” and “unseelie” spirits was roughly equivalent to the division of Elves in Norse mythology, into “light” and “dark” distinctions. (x)
He sank into the heap he was sitting on, resting back against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment. He had to get over this. And now. Maybe next time, he wouldn’t leave for so long, things were simply confusing there. He rubbed his arms and drew his cloak more fully around him for a while, warming up as he rubbed his stomach to calm himself down. He was so important. He was his father’s son, he was a son of Odin.
Why was he different from everyone else?
He spotted his brother farther off, and shrugged his cloak back open and tried to straighten back up, quickly scrubbing his face to wake himself up before smiling up to his brother from his resting place.
"I’m fine, brother. Perhaps I don’t fully have my land legs yet." He offered and got up, with that. Unwavering as ever he offered a smile. “And after sparring as I did earlier, it’s been an effort in and of itself." He admitted but that was about all he was going to confess.
"Did you find anything that you found interesting?" He started walking then waited for Eiríkr to follow him. “Anything that can be of use to you aside from making fish taste different?” He chuckled softly rubbing his hand over his chin, which was still, predominantly, hair free; much to his chagrin at times.
"I was thinking we could fish a bit in the lake nearby for dinner, I’m not sure if father had caught anything for us or we were expected to fend for ourselves and him as well. Another test, you know?" He tried to think about everything else but his idea trailed off when he began focusing on not letting his feet drag. He’d get some nuts when they were home, that would definitely help tide him over for a fishing trip. Or maybe they should try and find a boar or deer… Though at this point he wasn’t listening to Eiríkr.
Perhaps he only imagined it, but somehow it seemed like his brother was carrying a unseen burden on his shoulders. Eiríkr wasn’t sure if it was the right time to bother him about it or leave it be for another day.
However, Þórr seemed to wish to hide whatever troubles it was he bore; so Eiríkr decided to let it slide for now.
"I hope you get your land legs back soon then, you’re useless if not," he rolled his eyes, maybe he had just imagined it. Surely his brother was too strong to let anything bother him. He took after their father in strength; Eiríkr didn’t doubt that his brother would be a great ruler. Maybe he was simply over-analysing.
"I did actually," he smiled a little and held up the little leather bags he had filled, "Some of these will make good medication, others I’m sure will make mead taste a bit different, you know… add some variety," Eiríkr smiled to himself at the various herbs and plants, already plotting what to do with each and every one of them. There were endless possibilities, and he fully planned to hide away for a day or more to study these new plants in detail.
"Fishing would be good. Bet you I’ll get more than you," he laughed, a little excited to have his brother back. So maybe he had missed him a little. Just a little. But he wasn’t going to tell anyone that.
"Þórr?" he asked when he noticed the elder hand’t been listening to a word he had said.
"Þórr?" he tried again "You’re acting weird…"
Are you implying I wouldn’t do so in real life?
I wouldn’t have sex with ya in real life.
So tha point’s sorta moot, ain’t it?
I might have to go bleach my eyes though. ugh
For better or for worse, Cécile was not expecting too much although paying a visit either in person or through a call was an unspoken promise. The sense of impeding dread at someone’s oh so light suggestion on what would be an appropriate gift had long eased. The hair curler was already being heated and piles of clothes were on her bed being sorted through for the most pleasing possible combination (if mostly for her). When she did something she usually did it thoroughly and commercial but sweet holidays were no exception especially when she had a good reason to celebrate.
Half her head was in rollers when the buzz at the front door interrupted her prep. She certainly did not expect enough roses to hide her work in progress visage in nor did she expect to give such a giddy grin when signing away on the delivery. She didn’t even mind that a nosy neighbor saw her grinning into the flowers as she fumbled back into her apartment to bury her face in them before distributing bunches in vases for each room. The card however took the cake. Roses in her cheeks joined the ones in her home as she read it a few more times than really necessary, giving a chuckle at two certain easily misconstrued statement. Perhaps they may have been on purpose. realizing she was hugging it to her chest, sighing like a near adolescent girl, she put the card down on her nightstand with care.
With new found purpose, Cécile tore herself away from overanalyzing the card through glances across the room and really stepped onto her mission of primping or at least ensuring symmetry of the calculatedly effortless looking loose curls she was aiming for. Although she had in her spirit of romanticism promised wooly jumpers at some point and it was supposed to be more of a quiet night, toning it down was a challenge. Two dozen possible outfits and that was not even counting the overnight bag! However, the conclusion that a peplum blouse, a well tailored pair of dark wash jeans and lower than usual heels seemed the best ‘look I am not trying too hard’ look paired with loose curls tumbling down her back only punctuated by a red ribbon and a mere 15 minute makeup job. It took a lot of planning to look effortless.
It was what she estimated was dinner time when she arrived at his home. Cécile was just estimating at least by putting it an hour before her own usual time to account for her languid southern European sensibilities versus the mindset of the north. Just a little more hair smoothing and some extra lipstick and perfect. With a ring on the doorbell, she waited, not so hidden grin on her face.
Erik had gotten up before the sun rose; ensuring the house was spotless and that he had everything he could possibly need for a nice night in.
He had nothing short of fretted over this; pacing back and forth in his kitchen as he pondered what to actually make.
About one hour of googling various food sites, Erik settled for something somewhat easy. A nice fish soup with mussels, prawns and monk-fish was sure to be a hit (he hoped).
He had just finished making the soup and was just putting the chocolate tart in the fridge; when he heard the doorbell ring.
Brushing the flour on his hand onto his blue apron, Erik opened the door with a smile.
"Cécile!" he grinned and pulled her into a hug; momentarily forgetting he had flour all over his apron.
"I’m glad you came," he laughed softly, his cheek taking on a hue of pink when he noticed the flour stains on her clothes.
"Oh fuck, I’m so sorry," he reached out to brush some of it off her with a sheepish smile.
"Not the best start to valentines," he coughed awkwardly.
At least in some’v those ya took it like a champ
Are you implying I wouldn’t do so in real life?
Reine, Lofoten islands, Norway
Odin’s Eagle. Own photo.