Chapter Text
Despite the reverence of being a mage, a Norse male mage (seiðkarl) is seen as womanly and thus a lesser man by their fellow Norse pagans. This understanding is lost on their atheist cousins and the distant Finns.
In days long past, Ægir was considered a jötunn or a god. Now he is commonly revered as a god.
Reynir’s brothers’ first time out into the world served as a coming-of-age rite. Reynir was a seiðkarl, they did not have that custom. But even his sisters had their adventures, which could be seen as their own rites into womanhood. Why should Reynir not have the same?
Sure, Öresundsbro was not Bornholm, neither was Silent Denmark, and so what if Trond said there were no palm trees, it was still the warmest place in the Known World. It was all just a bonus for Reynir anyway.
Magic was the purpose. Proper magic. Not just the magic taught at the Academy of Seiður, but the things taught in the Norwegian military. Something that Reynir could not have learned, no non-immune mage could. But Trond and him had made a deal.
Even if it meant venturing into the Silent World. He always loved the stories his siblings told him, but he never wanted to go. But for this, it would be worth it. And he would get his own stories to tell them in turn.
It was something he had to think about when the idea of going out there gave him second thoughts and it became hard to breathe.
When the boat had finally docked at Öresundsbro and all the people were on their way out, Reynir stayed. His chest felt tight. He was not used to crowds. Reynir absentmindedly kicked his feet while he waited.
Taking a breath before joining the last people in shuffling out of the boat and setting foot into Denmark. I’m really here.
Out of everyone's way, Reynir bowed his head and spoke quietly. “Thank you, Ægir, for allowing us safe passage.”
There was hardly a point to the prayer, Reynir had nothing to sacrifice. Hopefully, the prayers Reynir made before he left home were enough. The last time he had slaughtered a sheep, he prayed for the safety of his family and for himself on his journey.
Was it wrong for me to pray for myself? They didn’t even know I was leaving.
When he finished his prayer, Reynir caught a few people looking at him. He turned his head away, feeling warm.
It then occurred to Reynir that he was not sure what to do next. Well, he made his way through Reykjavík.
As it turned out, everything was in Icelandic. Finding where to lodge was easy. All that was left was to wait. He was sure he would be found by his co-workers.
Co-workers . That was new. Reynir had never worked outside of his family before.
Reynir was leaving the rest area when he heard an unfamiliar voice. “Reynir?” He turned to see a large man approaching him.
“Yes.”
“I’m Mikkel Madsen.” His voice was deep, calm, and gentle.
They shook hands, firmly, but not the crushing grip Reynir had expected. It felt odd. Shaking hands was done for agreements in Iceland, or at least it was in the country, and normally his father was responsible for that.
While Mikkel was hardly taller than Reynir, with his size Reynir felt he was being towered over. Mikkel was stoic as men should be, something Reynir had given up on being. Reynir would surely embarrass himself, if he had not already. And he did not know if Mikkel was nice or not. He may not know until they are out in the Silent World.
Or was Reynir being a jerk by assuming things of Mikkel?
“Are you feeling alright?” Mikkel asked.
“Yes!” Reynir’s voice came out at a higher pitch. He cleared his throat before repeating himself.
“Were you heading somewhere?” Mikkel asked.
Reynir just wanted to look around. Mikkel said he could show him if he wanted. So they went together. Mikkel used to work here.
They walked past some buildings that were, “ Restricted to the Public .” Mikkel was sure to say what they were used for.
“More storage, the break room, illicit substance lab, and the managerial office.”
Reynir's head tilted to the side.
“That was a joke,” Mikkel said. “Seemed like you needed one, but I suppose my humor does not translate well.” His tone was so weird that Reynir was not sure if that second part was also a joke.
“Sorry.” Reynir did not know what else to say.
With that, Mikkel led Reynir through Öresundsbro. There were a lot of people here. Mikkel said that there was some tourism but mostly it was business and visiting families.
After a while, Reynir asked, “Why is everything in Icelandic and not just Danish?”
“Everyone in Denmark knows Icelandic but not all Icelanders who come though can read Danish,” Mikkel said.
“What about everyone else?”
“It’s the most common second language.”
“Is that why…?” Reynir asked more questions which Mikkel did not seem to mind answering. Mostly about how military bases worked. Though he would get some jokes in response. And there were more times that Reynir was not sure if Mikkel was serious or not.
When asked where he was from, Mikkel avoided it and asked Reynir in turn, which he did answer.
“It sounds like you’re from the middle of nowhere,” Mikkel said as they looked over the loading dock. “You seem to be managing well.”
Reynir was not sure if that was a compliment.
“Trond set up a lot for me but the rest was not hard to figure out.” Reynir looked out over the ocean. “But I would have worked as an unpaid cabin boy to travel if I had to.”
“You would have worked off the books?” Mikkel said. “You would not have gotten far that way.”
Reynir did not say anything for some time.
“When is Trond going to be here?” Reynir asked.
“In a day or two,” Mikkel said. “Or more.”
Reynir crossed his arms. He wanted to get going before he lost his nerve. But at least he got to see more of Öresundsbro, where there were places for food, little shops for gifts, a bookstore- a bit of everything. Even holy items, like Mjölnir pendants, many were as nice as Reynir’s own.
“Do Danes really not believe in gods?” Reynir asked.
“Well,” Mikkel said, “some of us do.”
“Do you believe in them?” Reynir asked.
Mikkel was quiet for a moment. Was it rude for Reynir to ask that?
“I believe in what I have seen. And,” Mikkel said,“ I have seen some… strange things.” He lowered his voice, “I sometimes feel better with runes around.”
That made Reynir smile. Mikkel's voice was one of the deepest he had ever heard and he spoke softly.
“Where does that put me?” Reynir asked. “What is a mage to an atheist?”
Mikkel smiled to himself like Reynir had just said something funny. “You’re just a young man. More pious than most but you're not any different from any other man here.”
So that did not matter. He knew that should be the case, but he could not imagine what that meant. Everyone in Búardalur knew what he was and he saw the change that came when strangers learned it. Like he was not quite a man.
Moving on from those thoughts, Reynir window-shopped, looking at little trinkets, like the ones his siblings used to bring him.
Two men, likely younger than Reynir, held hands as they walked by. Reynir stared at them. After realizing what he was doing, Reynir quickly looked away. They did not notice, hopefully, no one else did either.
When he looked at Mikkel, he seemed amused with Reynir.
Reynir whispered, “Mikkel, why were they holding hands?”
“You don’t know a lot about Denmark, do you?”
Reynir had mostly heard that they were deviants who talked funny, so he shook his head.
“It’s common for teenagers to date the same sex before marrying.”
Reynir’s eyes widened. They dated the same sex? Openly? Sure, it was normal for young people to do things before marriage, often with both men and women. Bjarni had told Reynir that his second time was with a man and Reynir was sure there used to be something going on with Guðrún and one of the neighbor girls. Their father was known to have been very close with an old friend before he met their mother. But it was not something you would go around telling people!
Even mages, who never married and were always assumed to be licentious, would not go and do something like that so publicly.
“Wait,” Reynir said. “Danes date people they know they can’t marry? That’s sad.”
Mikkel looked like he was going to tell another joke, but that slipped back into his neutral expression. “I don’t think anyone here would argue with that.”
Reynir toyed with his hair. “So…, do you still talk to your ex-?”
“Sometimes.”
“Does your wife-?”
“Don’t have one.”
Reynir opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself from asking, why not?
“Err, right,” Reynir said. “But why are they holding hands?”
“Is that so indecent?” Mikkel’s smile returned, making it clear he was mocking Reynir.
“No,” Reynir’s shoulders raised. “It’s just… embarrassing.” It was a private thing. Like kissing.
Reynir distracted himself by looking at the bookshops’ windows. Memories of Hildur and Ólafur arguing over how restrictive Iceland should be with books came to him. Reynir hardly thought about it but he did wish he could have just learned about magic at home. But at least this way would give him a better story to tell and bragging rights with it.
Reynir walked by some magazine stands. Some of them were from Iceland, others he could not read but they were probably from Denmark. Some of them were marked with flags, either from Iceland, Denmark, or Sweden. Reynir never cared much about them but Guðrún used to collect magazines and Ólafur would borrow them from her.
Looking over Into the windows of the next store, Reynir froze. The signs said, “ Softcore ,” “ Explicit ,” and “ Banned Outside of Denmark .” Different covers had nearly-naked women, a few had men on them. Many of them had things like blindfolds, restraints, faces completely covered by shining masks, the threat of being hit by canes, or oddly shaped tools whose uses were known only to the gods. Reynir could hear his heart in his ears. His eyes kept returning to one where a man was spying on a woman bathing in a river.
Reynir did not react when Mikkel grabbed his shoulders and herded him away to an alley.
“Don’t worry about it,” Mikkel spoke softly. “The first time is often shocking for Icelanders. I have even heard screaming. And the ones who come here to buy them can be-.”
Reynir pulled away from Mikkel and hugged himself. Reynir was told that Scandinavians would touch you as if you were related and Mikkel was only helping him. But someone outside of his family grabbed him.
“I know they had that here.” Reynir watched people pass in the walkway behind Mikkel. The walls were close together and the ocean was to Reynir’s back. “I didn’t think they had it out so openly.”
“When I worked here, they kept going back and forth on how open they are with it,” Mikkel said. “I think they get more money this way.”
Obscene material was banned in Iceland. And what he saw was so perverse. But he wanted to know what those things were for. It was not like he could ask Mikkel and he was certainly not going to buy one. Well, okay, he could buy one later when he was alone.
I’m not doing that!
An Icelander traveling to Scandinavia, seeing something they were not meant to see, then being manhandled and cornered by an older handsome foreigner in an alley sounded like something out of a more scandalous romance novel.
In spite of himself, Reynir was glad his coat came down past his waist.
“I think you’ve seen just about everything,” Mikkel said. “Was there something you wanted to get?”
Reynir took a breath. “Maybe we could look at the docks again?”
It was nicer seeing the ocean when on land than on a boat. More peaceful. The sound of the birds trilling and the water ramming into the base. Less fear of sea beasts dragging you down to Rán's halls.
They had not said anything since they left the alley. Reynir looked over at Mikkel, who was looking out at the sea.
It was the first time Reynir noticed Mikkel’s blue eyes. Mikkel seemed kind, if odd. Even now, it was easy to feel safe around him. But Reynir was still unsure about being trapped in the Silent World with him. Not that he had a choice at this point.
Getting away from that place, Reynir calmed down, but his mind kept going back to that one cover. What would it be like to watch someone like that? Or to find out someone was watching you? It was not the first time he had thought about it, and he could not let his mind linger on it. Maybe he would think about it again before bed.
After walking around for a while, they went for an early dinner. It was always nice when Reynir got to have any meat other than lamb, hogget, and mutton. Though he felt like he was being watched. It was probably just him not being used to being around so many strangers.
Mikkel went over the rest of the crew: “Sigrun is from Norway, she will be our captain. Trond knows her personally. Emil is from Sweden, he is a cleanser. They are not the most trained part of their military but if he’s survived that long out there he should be competent enough. Then from Finland, we have Tuuri and Lalli, they’re related, I’m unclear on how. They might be married- I suppose they are old enough. Tuuri is a mechanic and a skald. Lalli is a scout and mage.”
Reynir never thought about Finnish mages much before but it would be cool to find out about them.
“Wait, how old is everyone?”
“Sigrun is thirty-two, Emil and Lalli are nineteen, and I forget, are you twenty or twenty-one? Tuuri is whichever one you are not.”
“I thought I would be the youngest.”
“It’s pretty close between the four of you,” Mikkel said. “If it helps, they all have much more experience than you do.”
Reynir pressed his lips together. There was a nicer way to put that, Mikkel was being needlessly rude.
“So, how old are you?” Whatever it was, Reynir was going to say Mikkel looked older.
“Thirty-four.”
“Seriously!” Reynir thought he was at least forty. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you look so young.”
“I can give you copies of their dossiers,” Mikkel furrowed his brow. “Ours are in there too.”
Dossiers? Whatever it was, one of them was Reynir’s. He accepted the offer.
After they were done eating, they lingered in the mostly empty restaurant, Reynir asked, “So, what do you do?”
“I’m the medic,” Mikkel said. “But mostly I will be taking care of the chores. It would be good if I had your help.”
“Of course! I do that all the time.” Only after Reynir finished speaking did he realize what he just said. He was used to women's work. His shoulders dropped.
“That’s a relief,” Mikkel leaned back against the wall behind him. “Working with men who don’t know how to cook or clean for themselves is always a hassle.”
Reynir never looked at it that way.
“Does a female captain bother you?” Mikkel asked.
“No,” Reynir said. “I’ve heard that men and women working together is better for teamwork and stuff.” Also, having a woman in charge sounded safer for him and for whichever Finn was a woman, but Reynir was not going to say that.
“That would make sense.” Mikkel brought his hand to his chin in thought.
Things fell quiet again and unlike before, Reynir was bored.
“So, how did you get this job?” Reynir asked.
“Oh, that,” Mikkel looked away. “I had done jobs for Trond before.”
Reynir wanted to know more but Mikkel had not been willing to talk about himself much.
“And you?” Mikkel asked.
Reynir grinned. “Well, one day I got a letter from my old teacher, from the Academy of Seiður. She said that she may have a job for me…”
And thus began Reynir’s tale. The letter told him who General Trond was, why he wanted a mage, and where to meet him if Reynir was interested. It was hard to believe but he did go to meet with Trond in Reykjavík. As it turned out, Reynir was the only one willing to talk to him.
Trond made a deal with him. Reynir would go out on the expedition into Silent Denmark and following would work for Trond for some years. For this, Reynir would be able to learn from the Norwegian Military, which Trond would pay for.
Reynir left out the part of the story where he lied to his parents. He had only told them that he would be spending some time traveling.
“...I still find it hard to believe but I could not be happier.”
Mikkel was hard to read. Was he disappointed? Concerned?
Reynir was not stupid, he knew how that sounded. But it was not like Trond was a creepy old man or anything. And if he did want to take advantage of someone, why find some Icelander from way out of nowhere? But if Reynir was wrong, it was not like he could shame his family. No one would know them in Norway. And everyone would assume, whether it happened or not, so it was better not to care. And he could ignore the twisty feeling he sometimes got from his gut when he thought about it. Not that Trond would actually try anything.
“Not all Norwegian mages are in the military,” Mikkel said.
Reynir had never thought of that. Were there things only taught in the military? Did that mean he could have learned real magic differently? But then, where would he even start to find someone to teach him?
They left soon after, Reynir had thought that they were being followed, but of course, it was just someone leaving at the same time.
It was early evening when Mikkel walked Reynir back to his lodging room. Reynir was happy to have Mikkel looking out for him. He really was a good man.
“I almost forgot,” Mikkel said, and then walked off.
Reynir did not know if Mikkel was coming back or not and when he thought to ask, Mikkel was too far away to address without drawing public attention to Reynir.
So Reynir waited around, hoping he did not look too out of place.
An older man with pale blonde hair walked up to Reynir, looking him up and down. Reynir squared his shoulders.
The man rested his hand against Reynir’s door and looked him dead in the eyes. “He break you in yet?”
He really just said that?
Reynir’s face burned and he could hear his heart in his ears. The thought of him and Mikkel together. The way this man spoke to him. Reynir had worse things said to him, but never in public where someone could overhear. Reynir just wanted to disappear into his room.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Reynir took stock of who was around. There were not a lot of people nearby but he was not completely alone with this man.
“ Sure you don’t,” the man said. “Mikkel made such a big deal out of me dating a nineteen-year-old, and here he is with you.”
Reynir was about to correct him but stopped himself. Maybe it was better if this man thought they were dating. It was a lie his sisters used while traveling.
“I guess he got tired of old broads and returned to his youth in the gay scene.” The man leaned towards Reynir. “He must have a lot of fun with you, Little Lupine”
Taking a step back, Reynir's cock twitched. Something he did not want to think about.
“Not surprising with his whole bisexual routine…,” The man continued talking at Reynir. Insulting ramblings about Mikkel, Reynir, or both. It was so weird that this was happening.
Was the man dangerous? Maybe Reynir could wait him out? What if he did not leave? He could not hurt Reynr out here in the open, right?
“Even a hick like you could do better.” The man gestured to Reynir. “Or are you happy his dick doesn’t-.”
“Harassing civilians would put most people out of the job.” It was Mikkel, he was carrying some books. “But your father seems to feel differently.”
Reynir rushed over to Mikkel.
The man said to him, “I was just telling your new bitch-.”
Mikkel snapped at the man in Danish, which quickly turned into a low-volume argument that Reynir could not understand. Mikkel had trouble getting words in.
What Mikkel was doing was not working and the man was in no hurry to leave. But everything was fine. Reynir just had to get the man to go away. He took a moment to think.
Reynir cut them both off, “Oh, no. You’ve got it all wrong.” He played with his hair. “Mikkel’s way too young for me.” He looked off into the distance like he was daydreaming. “I actually have my eyes on this Norwegian guy. He’s completely loaded, and, like, one hundred.”
The man stared at Reynir with bewilderment. Then he walked away, muttering something to Mikkel in Danish. Then it was quiet.
“Are you alright?” Mikkel asked.
“Of course I am.” Reynir had not given it much thought before but he was dizzy.
“You could report him,” Mikkel said. “I could help-.”
“No, no! It’s not a big deal,” Reynir said quickly. “I have heard Scandinavians are more expressive, but that was… a lot?”
“He’s a former co-worker who likes to cause trouble.” Mikkel rubbed his temple before continuing. “Generally, I don’t think Danes and Icelanders are all that dissimilar there. People are quieter in the country and more open in the city. Swedes are more so, and Norwegians are very expressive.”
“Yeah,” Reynir hated how weak his voice sounded. “I’ve heard that.”
“Though, I would not recommend going after older men at your age,” Mikkel said. “He does not talk about it much but Trond is a married man. Not to mention the uncountable grand and great-grandkids. An extramarital affair would not get much from his will.”
“Oh, no!” Reynir put his hands up in front of him. “I was just saying something weird so he would leave….”
Going by Mikkel’s face, he was messing with Reynir again. Reynir sighed. Somehow, the joke helped.
“I don’t have to worry about him bothering me later, or anything.” Reynir rubbed his neck. “Right?”
“I don’t think he would accost you twice,” Mikkel said. “But if I am wrong, you can always get help.”
Reynir's eyebrows tensed as he looked up at Mikkel.
It was then that Reynir paid attention to what Mikkel was carrying.
“The dossiers and these.” Another small smile formed over Mikkel’s lips as he handed the rest to Reynir. “Trond wanted me to give you this. Apparently, they are not allowed in Iceland.”
There was an envelope, under it were two books, each made of leather. It had to be the ones that Trond promised. The ones that taught mages basic military magic.
Real magic .
Reynir’s hands shook slightly as he slowly reached for the books. Mikkel placed it all in his hands. “It’s not going to crumble.”
“Sorry.” Reynir looked down at the books as he held them against his chest. “And thank you. Thank you! Kiitos!”
“Ole hyvä,” Mikkel said. “Remember, you can come to me if you need anything.”
Reynir nodded, not looking up. He could forget about all the embarrassments of the day and teach himself how to be useful to the team. “Well, good night.”
After hearing it back, Reynir scurried into his room. When he almost tripped over his bags, the envelope slipped away, and the books almost fell with it! But he could tidy up later. This was more important.
Reynir sat down and set the books on the desk. One was a guidebook for mages and the other was a collection of runes. Reynir carefully opened the guidebook and started reading.
The book introduced itself as being for Icelanders who did not understand Norwegian customs or unimpeded magic. While it highlighted the importance of remembering cultural differences, it warned that the true range of magic may be intimidating or even frightening for Icelanders at first but to pace yourself and approach ideas with curiosity.
It gave a brief history of mage regulation in Iceland and how pre-regulation Icelandic mages had practices similar to those of their Norwegian sisters.
Reynir never liked being called a woman because he was a mage. Yes, he was a seiðkarl but he was still male.
The book overviewed how mages are gifted by Freyja and Odin, the soul, one's fylgja, the afterlives, and the unchangeable nature of fate.
There was a list of many different ways runes could be made. It included, “organic material.” It also mentioned that there were a variety of rituals for magic.
Rituals for magic? Did that mean there were other ways to channel his powers?
Then it moved on to listing tools of mages. Such as a staff, a dress, a knife, herbs, mushrooms, and animals.
Reynir did have a staff but what was a dress needed for? The knife was clearly for sacrificing animals, which was why animals were there, but why herbs and mushrooms?
And finally, mage duties. Spells, finding prophecies, and roles in worship.
You can find prophecies?
It closed with the importance of blood, pain, and sacrifice.
Pain? He understood blood and sacrifice, but pain? What could that be good for? He remembered hearing horror stories about Norwegian blóts, usually ones about human sacrifice but it would be silly to think that Norwegians in the year 90 would torture animals before killing them to please the gods. Let alone doing that to humans.
Reynir had finished the introduction. He did not understand it yet but that was what the rest of the book was for. So he continued to the first chapter, and the next, and the one after that, and so on until he found the chapter on sex magic.
He held his head in his hands. There was so much to take in and it was hard to say he liked all of it. Or most of it. The book did warn him. But pain was as holy as blood and they were best together. Taking a knife to one's skin was a form of prayer, it was better if there was more pain involved, and this did not stop at oneself.
Reynir had slaughtered many sheep but he never wanted to hurt them. It could be done with no pain or at least limited pain. He knew what a scared and hurt sheep looked and sounded like. How they moved and felt under his hands as he tried to help them. It was painful to imagine hurting them or what a knife would feel like tearing through their tense screaming throats.
Reynir squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.
Mages were blessed by the gods and they should be taught about their powers. It was not a human’s place to judge the gods. Even if they did not like it. The Norwegians must be right about magic and religion.
It was late, Reynir had a long day, he should go to bed.
After closing the guidebook, he brought out the one for runes. He found the ones for protection, ignoring everything else for the night. Retrieving his tools from his bag, he set to practicing the runes. He just needed to do a few so he had something he could give to his crewmates. After memorizing them, he got bored and started to experiment, drawing on his years of Icelandic magic.
When a door slammed outside, it knocked Reynir out of his trance. Without much thought, Reynir got up, cleaned up his room, and got ready for bed.
Reynir then laid down and looked up at the ceiling that was too dark to make out. He got what he wanted.
No, not yet .
This was only the beginning. There was so much more to learn. He needed to do it. He left home and had been willing to risk going to the Silent World for this. Reynir was a mage. He wanted to be a true mage. And now he could be. Even if it frightened him, even if it hurt, he would become one, it was his fate. He should be happy it was that and not decaying on a farm.