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2012 Part XVI

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Judgment of the Council

July 5th, 2019: The council gathered at the appointed place—this time, Rakel Heðinsdóttir’s abode—and sat together in her living room. She was one of the members of the council along with Dagur Skarsten, Oðinn Petursson and his wife, Katrín, Friðþjófur, who we often called Frið, Lára, Tómas, Yrsa, Örn, and the four of us. Frið was a red haired man of thirty-five with broad shoulders. He stood more than six feet off the ground, but was the ideal gentle giant. He was firm and strong simply by size, yet soft and gentle by nature. He was a gardener on the other side of the village. Lára and Tómas were siblings that were very, very different. Lára was a twenty-five year-old woman with blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was a big woman, very strong and lively. On the other hand, her brother, Tómas, was a lanky, red-haired man with dark brown eyes. Yet, despite their looks, they bonded together better than any pair of friends I had ever known; not only did their minds agree in interest and disputes, but they also shared the same birthday. Yrsa and Örn were the two eldest and wisest people in the area. People would visit these two for wisdom to help them through the difficulties of their life. Yrsa, a woman over a hundred years old, was a blind woman with long, flowing, healthy white hair, but her eyes were fogged with blindness. She takes walks with her ninety year-old husband (not Örn) in the parks daily and has almost memorized their traditional route by the coolness of the shadows and numbers of steps. I didn’t know her very well, but she was good friends with both Lára and Chelsea. Örn was even older than Yrsa—old enough to have seen the end of the nineteenth century. He, oddly, had grey hair and grey eyes. His hands were ominously gnarly, contrasting his kind, laid-back behavior. Though he was born in Iceland, most of his life was not spent there; he traveled the world quite literally; by the time the turn of the early century came, he moved to England to learn new European languages, then moved around the continent until he came to Asia; then, he repeated the process again and again. None of the languages he learned ever came close to perfection, but he did what could to scrape by. He arrived in South America as the Cold War began and made his way northward; he returned home just after the Vietnam War. Örn is the Great Uncle and best friend of Dag.
The four of us—Chelsea, Nick, my husband and I—entered last, greeted by Rakel and guided into her living room. As we sat, speech slowly dwindled to both a tense and calm silence. Jake sat me down in a large chair before seating himself in the one next to it. His hand never once left my hand.
After a bit of silence, Yrsa rested her back against her chair and said to me, “Despite your call for urgency, I doubt it would be unwise to ask; how is your youngest faring?”
I couldn’t smile, but I answered with, “The baby, despite my constant stress, is well, and… I would like to keep it that way.”
Both Yrsa and Örn blinked in surprise. Dag inhaled deeply and held his head high. Chelsea, Rakel, Nick, and Lára raised their eyebrows in surprise. Jake tightened his grasp on my hand. “I do not mean rudeness. I just find myself quite distressed with our current circumstances. Would anyone like to bring anything up for discussion before our main topic?”
I looked around the room, but everyone was silent and anxious.
“Go ahead,” Jake urged.
“Very well. I come bearing news of the War and the usurper king. As of now, and for the next few months, he will be on ‘vacation’ from the war.”
There were a few sighs of relief, most of which came from Rakel and Katrín. Dag did not sigh, but instead asked, “How is this urgent news, may I ask?”
I took my hand from Jake and tapped my fingers together, leaning forward. “Have you heard of the War with Russia?” I asked.
Everyone’s face went grave, but, for most people, it was the gravity of ignorance. It had been quite some time since we had met, and sometimes the War would slip our minds—their minds. I never forgot, though I sometimes overlooked.
“This was our last hope; as with both Napoleon and Hitler, Russia’s greatest ally, old man winter, fended off the unwanted troops.” I paused here and looked down. “A few days ago, I received word of Russia’s fall, and with it, all of the Middle East, all of Africa, the rest of Asia, and, when I checked today, most of the Pacific Ocean gave him power. All that’s truly left is New Zealand and any islands it possesses, a couple small islands in the Pacific (Nive, the Marshal Islands, and the Cook Islands, to name a few), and Iceland. Not even Greenland remains.”
No one spoke. Suddenly, we began to feel lonely; after all, we were the last country in the Northern Hemisphere not loyal.
“Thus, I have gathered you all to propose that we fall neutral,” I finally explained.
Suddenly, the room echoed with the scraping sound of chair legs on a wooden floor and outbursts of outrage. Even Chelsea was among this.
Jake stood. “Please! Everyone! One at a time! This is merely a proposal; other suggestions would be more than welcome, but—ONE AT A TIME!”
Finally the people silenced. I had covered my ears at the yell, but turned and thanked him. “Now, we will start with Dag and go around the room.” I watched Dag as he uncomfortably stood any cleared his throat.
“This… this is not a proposal you would normally suggest. I worry that you might be—and forgive me—under his influence.”
Jake stood, obviously more insulted at this than I. Jake had no words to say, so I took his hand and calmed him back to his seat.
I returned my attention to Dag. “You are forgiven, and no, I am not ‘under his influence;’ the way I am now seeing it is as a more secure way to hide—and keep the rest of the country safe while I’m here. I would very much like to see my child born somewhere safe where it and its brother may grow up happy together. I… I have come to terms with the idea, and am willing to try it. If anyone else has any suggestions beyond this one, they will be gladly considered.”
Dag’s face changed a bit from nervous to resolve. “I think it is the best idea you have ever presented to this council.” He sat down and gestured to Örn, who was left staring wide-eyed at his grand-nephew. My mouth was sent agape for before I followed Dag’s actions and motioned for Örn to begin. I would ignore the insult—or compliment—whichever it was intended to be.
Örn stood slowly, obviously still surprised. Finally, he said, “Of all the men I have seen in my years—or even read about in old history books and heard of through legends—none could compare to Ganondorf in wit, cunning, power, or even execution. From what I have heard—or, rather, understand—he was able to control you even before you were brainwashed.” Here, I gave him a look of confusion, to which he responded, “The dome: when he… convinced you through your dreams to leave the dome.” When he saw my face of understanding, he continued. “That is a frightening example of how powerful and influential he is. You must understand how we would be nervous of your sudden change in mind.”
I nodded, saying, “Yes, it would be difficult to understand. But you must understand the situation we are falling victim to. I understand that you are all confused by this behavior, but you must also be worried of your current position. Anyone who is NOT, make yourself known and explain.”
No one stood, but everyone fidgeted anxiously.
“And anyone with any idea of how to test me should come forward as well.”
Again, no one stood, but looked back and forth at each other.
“Örn, do you have any suggestions in place of the action put forth today?”
After a moment of deep thought, he said, “No. I believe falling neutral would be our best option. Other countries are doing so now, so it will be less conspicuous on Iceland’s part. And, in falling neutral, we are less likely to be invaded by far. We are a small country with small defenses, not so much an interest to a warlord. But perhaps it would be wise to inform New Zealand of this decision.” Örn had been sitting, elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. He stood up and looked around at everyone. “Despite what we’ve learned and know, this option seems most suitable for the purposes of safety, does it not?”
“We can only oppose him for so long: once the war begins again, why would he ignore us? Why exterminate a swarm except for only two or three mosquitoes?" Lára said.
“Because those two or three are useless anyway!” Chelsea said, standing up. She looked at me. “I saw what they did to you! You had no idea who I was! who he was!”—she gestured to Jake—“even who you were! I’ve seen his power and who knows what he’ll do to the country while it’s under his rule!”
“And who knows what he’ll do to the country while it’s not under his rule?” Yrsa voiced, standing in opposition to Chelsea.
Tómas stood between the two and said, “Enough; there is little use for such idle bantering. If we have opposition, we need options; if we have agreement, we must make use of it.”
Chelsea stared at Yrsa for a long while before sitting. When Yrsa heard the creak of the floorboards and chair, she, too, sat, Tómas following silently.
“Thank you, Tómas.” I directed my attention to Chelsea. “I understand wholeheartedly your opposition, and that’s why I brought the meeting together. Do you have any suggestions?”
She closed her eyes in thought, only to open them not long afterwards. “I think I read somewhere that Ganondorf knew a way back and forth between Earth and Hyrule. Surely not everyone in the entire world has surrendered to his power; the remaining not loyal to him should find a way to Hyrule.”
My eyes widened at the thought. I looked at Jake, whose eyes found mine instantaneously. Admittedly, since I was a little girl, I had always wanted to see the beautiful land of Hyrule—the imagination of another man, a land impossible to find physically. It was an impossibility that suddenly seemed on the tip of my fingers. I did not voice this and said instead, “How long do you imagine it would take to find that out? Not even I remember what exactly he might have said about the whereabouts.”
She thought for a moment. “Maybe there’s one in New England—I mean, that would make his sudden appearance in New Hampshire make sense.”
“Whoa, Chels! You’re talking enemy territory!” Frið cried out.
“Hey, I’m trying, aren’t I?”
Finally, Nick stood up. “All in all, it seems the option put forth is reasonable. If we fall neutral, it will be less questionable if we travel internationally. If we put Sam’s idea into play, then perhaps we can escape to Hyrule!”
“And warn the Hylians, while we’re there….” I muttered to myself. No one, not even Jake, heard.
“Yeah, and what about the beasts that will roam the area, huh? I doubt their ability to be tame, and I doubt their King would be the sort to consciously stop their actions. He’s ruthless and evil!” Oðinn spoke this time.
Everyone around me muttered in agreement. I sighed and put my hand up for attention. “There was one individual I met while under Ganondorf’s control that held a free mind. He claimed that Ganondorf was somewhat decent a ruler.” Everyone moaned and groaned in disgust. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but he had a good point: unemployment has never been lower, the countries have never been more united, few people under his rule have died in the war, and he has only used necessary funds for his work. So much as it seems, he’s leaded, but not selfishly like other governments have….”
Everyone had been staring at me in disbelief, and I realized what I was saying; I was defending the actions of Ganondorf, the King of Evil!
“I… I mean… I just don’t think… I don’t think he would be….” I sighed. “I don’t know what I’m saying.” I leaned back into the chair and slouched so low I almost slid out of the chair entirely.
Silence echoed dangerously through the room. Finally, to my intense relief, Örn stood and said, “As you yourself once said, there is no such thing as ‘black and white’ and only ‘light and dark greys.’ But that is not what we’ve been brought together to discuss.”
Then, Yrsa stood. “I suggest a vote to see where we all stand on the given subject: fall neutral or remain fighting.”
Everyone nodded in agreement. I reached out for Jake’s hand inconspicuously, but he didn’t respond. I looked at him and he kept his eyes fixed on the coffee table in the center of the room.
I sighed and sat up. “Alright, let’s actually go around the room this time.” I glanced at Jake, who seemed unwilling to speak, so I turned to my left instead. “Nick, how about you begin.”
He stood. “Let us fall neutral: Yea to the proposal.” I half guessed why: he would be able to visit his family again.
I nodded. “Chelsea?”
“…Fall neutral.” She hesitated, but when she spoke, her words were undeniably certain.
Again, I nodded, “Rakel?”
“Neutral.”
“Lára?”
“Neutral.”
This moved around the room until I got to Dag, where I hesitated in expectation.
“I can see it in your face, Sam; I would be surprised if my answer, falling neutral, didn’t surprise you.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Indeed, you did catch me off guard.” I looked at Jake and lightly called his name.
“I vote we fall neutral.” He was quick and harsh with his words. They made me want to cry a little, but I ignored it.
“And, of course, you know my position on the subject.” I carefully stood up and said, “Perfect: it’s a unanimous decision. Yrsa, Katrín, and Örn, can you appeal to the Prime Minister of Iceland?”
All three nodded their heads. “You go home and rest; I’m sure all this action has stirred the littlest out of some rest,” Katrín said.
“And, while we’re on that note, you’re seven-month mark was just the other day. Take it easy,” Dag informed me.
I grinned. “Yeah, yeah. No need for the lecture.”
Eventually, the formal gathering became purely social, in which Jake said nothing. As evening fell upon Iceland, we guests left for our respective homes. Jake and I walked together, but he was very reserved and almost dangerously sharp when spoken to. I dearly wondered what was wrong, but decided to save the conversation for our return home….
First thing's first, I cannot believe I missed this chapter. This was supposed to come before Chapter 17.... This is simply embarrassing, and I'm not sure what happened.

I can understand difficulty in pronouncing these words when there are so many different things going on; most of these names are truly Icelandic, so are spoken with a different accent, too. To begin, any vowel with an accent mark over it (ex: á or í) just means to make that syllable the more prominent of rest; (ex: Tómas is pronounced TOE – mas). The next thing is the letter “eth” (ð). This consonant sounds like a “th” as in “thousand”. The next letter is Ö, which is no more than English “oo”. The dots tell someone to make it the long vowel sound. Next, all “j” are pronounced like the English “y.” Finally, the letter “thorn” is an interesting one; it looks like (þ) and is pronounced both like the eth and the “j” (ex: in Friðþjofur, you would pronounce it frith – THYO – fur. Fun fact about is name, Frið means peace and þjofur means thief; put together it can mean warrior or, literally, peace-stealer.)

I may be over simplifying, and these rules should not be taken as be-all-end-all.
That’s all, folks!
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