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#so gow 2018 switched the first dwarves around if i remember right
arleniansdoodles · 1 year
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How much is calliope able to tell sindri of the Greek world?
So far, she hasn't really told him a lot about Greece, except that she's from Sparta, and a bit about the creation of humans in Greek mythology XDD I think Sindri's spent more time telling her stories about Midgard, specifically dwarf legends and his memories of Faye!
Speaking of, it's been a while since I shared a snippet of the fic, hasn't it? Below is a little piece of Sindri and Calliope sharing stories; for context, they're at Sindri's hideout in Svartalfheim, and Calliope's been visiting him at his forge just to chat and spend time together :D
“I thought of an old dwarf legend to tell you,” he offered. “Want to hear it?”
“Yes!” Calliope piped. “What kind of story is it?”
He smiled slightly. “It’s about the first ruler of the dwarves …”
Sindri went on to tell her about Durinn, the first dwarf ever created, and how he founded many great kingdoms and wielded the strongest of all hammers. Durinn made many manikins out of the earth, which were given life by the gods, becoming humans. Other dwarves evolved from the maggots that ate the first Giant’s flesh, and they all formed Durinn’s clan.
“Maggots!” Calliope repeated, failing to repress a shudder. “I wouldn’t want to come from a maggot!”
“Then what would you come from?” Sindri asked, amused. “Would you rather be made from the earth?”
“That’s what we say in my homeland,” Calliope said. “The first humans were made from clay. At least with clay, you can sculpt it any way you want!”
That was true. And at one point, Sindri had been just as disgusted by the maggot legend as she was.
He told her a few other stories, having thought up a very short list of all the happy ones, or at least those that didn’t end badly. Calliope hung on his every word, asking questions and poking for more details. Like, what did Durinn do in his leisure time? Did he make weapons like Sindri? Or did he build other things? And the famous alchemist Ivaldi, wasn’t he ever worried about making a mess with his experiments? Did he ever take a break? If his sons were always helping him, maybe that was their idea of family time!
Her chattering drudged up memories of the past – Atreus, around Calliope’s height, pestering Sindri with questions of dwarven history. Sindri saw him in his mind’s eye, perched on the edge of the worktable, idly swinging his feet.
I really wanna see Svartalfheim someday, Atreus chattered on. If its tower ever opens up, will you show me around? I wanna meet all the dwarves and learn their stories!
Sindri shook himself. That time was long past. Atreus finally got around to seeing Svartalfheim, though Sindri wasn’t able to give him a tour. Even if he could, there wasn’t much to show, or many dwarves to meet, given how they’d all shunned him at the time.
Then again … Maybe Calliope wouldn’t mind seeing more of Svartalfheim. She certainly seemed interested in Niðavellir, far below the mountain they stood on. One day, perhaps, Sindri could show her around there.
Calliope eventually grew bored of engraving practice and helped Sindri around the forge instead. Once he finished his current project (a very sturdy shield), she offered to sing the Thrymskviða for him.
Calliope’s music was an entirely different experience from listening to dwarf music. Hel, Sindri was tempted to put it on Faye’s level, and he considered Faye’s voice to be high art in itself. Calliope’s voice was pure and clear, like water from a mountain spring, or the snow glistening on Midgard’s peaks. Her magic lay just beneath the surface, waiting to be used, but she didn’t need it; the story of the Thrymskviða unfolded in his mind like painted murals moving on wooden panels. He saw King Thrym stealing Mjölnir while Thor slept, followed by Thor’s rage, and the Aesir’s meeting to discuss solutions … And the song ended.
Sindri blinked, coming out of his daze. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Yes, but I haven’t practiced the next verses as much,” Calliope said, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to mess them up here.”
“Even if you did, I’m sure you’d still sound great. You, uh, you really have a voice.”
Calliope’s cheeks flushed red. “Thank you.”
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