Who: Adonis and Jord. When: The day that Odin came, late night. Where: Jord's apartment. Warnings: ....Rage? Childishness? Rampant jealousy? Language? Potential bat-shit Jord?
When Jord was left alone in her apartment, left alone to think and stew and fear, her first impulse was to try and contact Adonis. A post was waiting on his journal, and it only served to confirm her fears; he didn't understand at all, didn't understand her or her relationship to Odin. She wanted desperately to explain to him, because it was complicated and she knew that, it couldn't be taken at face value because the nuance of it had been developed over centuries, just as their rift had been developed since coming here. Did she blame him for being upset? No, how could she? It would be purely hypocritical; had he gone to meet with one of the goddesses who ruled his life, she would have been livid.
But at the same time, this was different, and she wasn't sure if he would ever understand why. When she had given herself to Odin, it had been of her own free will. She was his subject, not his servant, and her loyalty was given because it was deserved, not because it was demanded. In the end, the All Father had chosen Frigg. A logical decision to be sure; she was a goddess of Asgard, the protector of marriage and family, a wise union for a king...and he loved her deeply. Jord was a giantess of the Earth, she was wild but she was wise. She bore his son and she raised Thor to be phenomenal, the most loved beside Baldr. To Odin, she was lover, advisor, friend, the mother of his child. But in the end, she could not stay. Jord could not bear the burden of being the Second. She could not bear that another goddess had Odin in a way that she never could. And so she left as amicably as possible.
It had not been easy. Had she wanted Odin to return to her when those new settlers came to this land? Yes. Had she wanted him by her side when the Industrial Revolution came about? Without a doubt. He was her pillar of strength for so long...but through all of her trials, she remembered that she had existed before Odin and she would exist after him. Her loyalty never wavered, but she built herself from the ground up, and the goddess that she became was shaped largely by the mindset of those who loved her earth. It was a balanced mindset, but much more free. She missed him, but she didn't need him. There would be no returning to him in the capacity of Concubine and King.
And then, centuries later, Adonis had entered the picture. And maybe she should have told him, but when was there a moment when the time was right? It wasn't an appropriate topic to just...bring up. Things had happened so strangely and so fast. Regardless, she had not explained this to him. The truth was that even if Adonis had never entered the spectrum of her existence she would not have returned to Odin, not even in this troubled time. Even if her struggle for independance had been internal, it had been intense. Difficult. And she wasn't going to give up all of that progress just because her former lover came to lead her pantheon in a time of intense danger.
These were the thoughts that plagued her as she roamed her apartment, straightening things needlessly, rearranging furniture only to put it back where it had started, powering her way through two bottles of mead and a bottle of wine only to pace the roof until she sobered again. She walked down the street to the market and bought a whole carton of those exotic cigarettes that they stocked just for her, and there she bought more alcohol as well, harder alcohol. Half a bottle of rum and three-fourths of a bottle of vodka were gone by the time she decided to lift the lid on her grand piano and play before those bay windows. Music rolled through the apartment, beautiful and sad, anxious, and after a few hours and far too many thoughts, angry as hell. Because it was late, it was dark, she had drank more alcohol than any being should consume and it had hardly touched her, her head was full and swimming and brimming with thought, and god damnit, he was trying to hurt her, he was needling at her by talking to other goddesses, by not coming home in any timely way, by not contacting her or letting her know he was safe.
Worse, worst of all, it was working. She despised him for that. But she despised herself more.
When had this happened? When had Adonis needled his way under her skin? When had she given him this kind of power, and why had she been so stupid? She fished for a cigarette....another pack was gone. Oops. More pacing, more smoking, but only water to drink now. She needed to sort this through, when and if he decided to come home. A frigid wind cut through the city, an ice-cold rain fell on the streets, and she seethed, but with every passing moment that he did not arrive home, her anger grew colder. Jord wanted to cauterize the part of her that hurt this badly. She wanted it gone, never to care this deeply again. Clearly, it was nothing but trouble, danger...
By the time she felt his presence drifting into the periphery of her own, she was clear-headed and completely livid. The rain was falling in icy sheets but she was in her warm apartment, perched on the couch, curled over so she could see the door. Her hands clasped a steaming mug of coffee, black as midnight. Quiet and still, the goddess of the Earth waited for him to unlock the door, to walk through.