For The Little Things

The impossible has happened. I’ve fallen in love. Helheim’s gates broke on the quickly following news that I was getting married. I had no family to talk sense into me. It would have been futile. It wasn’t his meager riches, his average physique, or his bumbling anxiety that kept me fascinated with him.

It was the little things.

It was the way he remembered to ask before refilling my coffee cup. It was the way he would bring me roses, but take the best rose and place on my ancestor’s offering bowl. (“Thank you for bearing her bloodline”, he would say.) It was the way he would wipe out the sink after washing dishes. It was the way he tried so hard not to hit my pet peeves, and sincerely apologize when he inevitably does.

It was the little things, that when added together, mean so much in a relationship. I did my best to reciprocate, and occasionally, I failed. But he forgave me as I forgave him. We were comfortable together.

His family did not like this. His family would try to split sky and sea to try and force us apart. Horrible apparitions and strange creatures would come to me daily, trying to talk me out of the marriage. But then, what else could I expect, seeing I’m marrying a god.

The God of Little Things.

His birth was more afterthought than intentional event. Among his divine brethren, he was always overlooked, always forgotten. Always the first one berated when things went wrong. He had tried to hard all these millennia to settle things. But the more humanity tinkered with mechanical devices, and occult workings, the more the little things mattered. Think of all the little things in life. The little things that brightened your day. The little things that destroyed it. The little things that would be the final tipping point between an entry on an incident report and a great tragedy. This was his purview. And now some humans were actually treating him as a God of Note, with offerings!

His brethren felt slighted by the attention given such an insignificant accident.

He had sought a wife among his pantheon before. Most of the eligible women were delighted by the effects of dating him. Toilet seats were down and warm. Cakes were timed perfectly. He not only remembered their favorite flowers, but took care to remove the thorns as well. They loved having all the little things go their way.

But his average, homely, appearance turned them off. They were divine! They were goddesses! All the little things didn’t matter when they were to be shackled to such… mundane and simple-appearing… little man.

We met in a diner. I was having coffee, or rather, I was nursing the coffee cup to keep from throwing it at my blind-date’s head. He was droning on about himself, and had failed to notice I had not only tuned out of the conversation, I had actually begin scribbling in my journal. He had brought me flowers, on advice from our mutual friend. Our mutual friend had advised him not to bring me red roses, but to bring me black roses if possible, or failing that, to cut the head off of one of the roses. A little test. Will he pay attention to the little things?

He had brought me six red roses. That itself wasn’t a deal breaker. Admitting he knew what he was supposed to do, but thinking it wasn’t that big a deal so why bother with it, was the deal breaker.

The god, nursing his own sting of rejection, watched all this. He came over and picked up one of the red roses. “Excuse me, Miss. I do believe, this is what you was waiting for?” He hands me the rose he picked up, only now the petals are as black as soot. As I take the rose from him, my “date” starts to complain. “Would you have coffee with me? No hidden requests. I won’t speak if you need the silence. I’ll listen if you’d rather fill it. I just would like to have coffee with someone that pays attention to the little things.”

I left my date behind, and sat with him. We met at the diner often. Then his brethren started to intervene. I challenged his identity. He admitted he is the God of Little Things. “But you can call me, ‘Mark’.” I wasn’t scared off. We both came from failed relationships. We both had learned from them. We started dating, and became “a couple”.

And now, we are to be married.

His family is splitting the sky in disapproval. He came to me, in tears. He hid his face as he told me the pronouncement against us. If I were to marry him, I would have to be ascended to godhood. There was no way around it. That just how Things Were. The gods met in council, and in an overwhelming number, voted to forbid my ascension. We could not marry.

Fine. Somehow I doubt I would be able to get tax benefits from marrying a god, anyways. We don’t have to marry. He starts laughing through his tears. For him to be a god of little things, he overlooked asking me about that.

“What did you do, Mark?” More tears and laughter.

“Mark. You agreed to something.” He nodded. “What did you agree to, Mark?”

“I will surrender some of my godhood, so your lifespan can be increased.”

“You will… or you did?” He looked down. “You did.” He nodded. “What did you surrender, Mark?”

“I can’t force little events to happen the way I want them to. They’ll have to play out just like they do for everyone else.” Something about the arrangement did not sit well with me. I had the feeling, this was only the beginning of a cascade of problems for Mark. I found out later, in exchange for him giving up the prime reason of his existence, my lifespan would be extended 300 years.

But I would continue to age normally.

I was not pleased by this. I begged him to leave me, and take back his godhood. He was being tricked and manipulated into surrender. But he loved me, and loved me dearly. He went back to the council, and surrendered another piece of his godhood in exchange for my youth remaining for 250 more years.

I vowed to love him as I love him now. For Mark. Even if he couldn’t make the toilet seat warm in the winter anymore. We both became very attentive to the little things in life. Since he couldn’t influence them anymore, it meant we had to pay attention to details. Most of the time, it worked in our favor. Sometimes it didn’t. But we continued, him and I. Happy with each other.

After a year we discover the downfall to my extended life. I’ve been made infertile. No godly bloodlines can be established. This doesn’t sit well with him. We have our first major argument. He admits he wanted children because that’s what he expected married couples to do. He admits that now he has seen how having children changes the relationship, he’d rather be selfish and hold on to me, just as I am. (Good. Because I had no intention of bearing any more children in the first place.)

The other god folk, are not happy with our continued happiness. They continue to call him to appear before council. As I feared, they keep finding more ways to remove bits and pieces of his godhood from him. They are gradually making him mortal.

In the process, they are removing from him, aspects that I love dearly. I had given much talk to loving the man inside the god, but as he changes, I am forced to admit, I love the all that is Mark. And I fight for those I love.

I start finding ways for Mark to work around the restrictions they impose on him. Even though I know, if I am successful, it will likely mean Mark will be taken from me forever, I’d rather Mark be free to be himself than caged and forgotten.

At first, I’m finding behavioral loopholes. Then I spy the limitations of the restrictions. Little by little, I find myself entangled in the weft of godhood. But it is such a little thing at first, that by the time I notice the effect on me, I have already been irrevocably changed.

The more Mark is shifted toward mortality, the more I am shifted towards divinity. The more Mark descends, the more I ascend. I am slowly transforming into a goddess.

I say nothing. I’m still very vulnerable as a newly divine thing, and an older god can easily destroy me. I continue keeping up the appearance of a mortal until I am unable to hide the truth from Mark.

He stares at me, softly glowing in divinity. He knows why this has happened. He smiles, sadly, resigning himself to the coming death that mortality brings.

One morning, I wake up, and I can feel a permanent shift in me. I am no longer human. I am divine. My (now truly mortal) husband sits up and looks at me. “Your eyes hold infinities. Congratulations, goddess.” He sounds so sad.

“You call me ‘goddess’ because I fucked you good and well last night.” I laughed to ease the anxiety, and the roses on the wallpaper lifted and bloomed.

We watched the display in sudden silence. It was roses that brought us together. He starts laughing fiercely. “Yea, okay, that too.”, he capitulated.

“What do we do now, Mark? The gods have reduced you to mere mortality. I can feel infinities flowing in me. There has to be a way to put things right.”

Mark sighed. “I grow old and die. You sow your powers of chaos among them. Have fun upsetting their perfect ideal. I wish I could watch it unfold.”

It was clear to me, the plan the other gods had set into motion. They had tried to sweep him into irrelevance before, only to have need of him to intervene as nearly every plan backfired miserably. He was an ugly reminder that their divine world was not as perfect and as well-ordered as they wanted to believe.

The god folk looked at our marriage as a means of getting rid of him. Who needs a God of Little Things, anyway? There is Attentiveness and Carelessness. There is Chaos and Order. Between those four, the little things are covered. All he did was get in the way. He married a human? Excellent! Make him human to join her, then kill them off together. One less source of trouble in the world, and their plan would be complete.

Except they didn’t plan for me ascending to godhood. Nor did they plan for the type of interference I would bring. I won’t have the assurances of the little things falling my way. But if my suspicions were correct, I wouldn’t need them. All I needed to do, was step foot into the hall of the gods. The rest would work itself out without any nudges from me.

“Do you want to die as a human? Or do you want to return to your post?” A plan was forming in my head.

“If I take my powers back, it will kill you!” I laugh. Roses turn black and drip bitter honey. He admired the display, and realized it was something he could never do. “It won’t. Because you don’t have my godhood!”

“Dear, I’m not the Goddess of Little Things. I think I know where my influence lies, but getting you back to yourself won’t kill me outright. At the most, I just become human again and forget all that has happened. So, again I ask you, divine or mortal?”

“I love you, but I need to be me. Divine.” The ache in his face, as he accepted to be himself would mean losing me, tore my heart. But we both knew, things had to be put right. The God of Little Things had to be restored, before the law of unintended consequences did more than elevate just one violent human.

“Good, because I shouldn’t have this much of this kind of power. Just one little thing will enrage me, and I’ll wipe humanity from existence with a roar.” He caught the reference and laughed.

I put my plan into effect, using the powers I now have. The god folk don’t see I have ascended until my mortal husband and I step into the Great Hall of the Gods. Chaos, who had been sulking her favorite tool of instigation was gone, fell off her chair in laughter. “Told you guys you were making a mistake! Now look! There are two gods where you had planned none!” She is quite delighted to see me. Even more delighted, when I nod towards her and address her as a Stately Goddess. Her peals of laughter assured me that I will achieve my goals. The little things may try to trip me up, but I have the forces of Frustration and Blind-siding on my side.

Order came to see what Chaos was laughing about. (Never bodes well when she is in tears, you know.) He takes one look at me, and realizes I am outside of his immediate control. At once, he traces the events that led to my ascension, and understands he himself pushed that wheel into motion. I’ve never heard such blood-curdling expletives come from such a perfectly shaped mouth.

I feel a cold rod pressed to my body. I turn to see a blacksmith measuring me. In quick movements, he not only knows the measurements of my body, but the extent of my abilities. He furrows his brow at the implications. “She’s not the Goddess of Little Things. She is something else, entirely. She fills a gap in the pantheon. If you try to get rid of her, more new gods will ascend in her wake. By trying to force humanity to abide to certain roles, you are encouraging them to break away and form new ones.”

The Goddess of Knowledge nods in agreement as she steps up to me and accesses me herself. “Order, you may have placed into motion, a series of events that will be the undoing of us all. Do not forget how we attained our own places in the pantheon, who we had to destroy and up-end to secure our peace.”

“Goddess, I am not here to start a war among the gods.” She listens to my words, and agree. But cautions me against allowing other elder gods to use me to that end.

Indeed, the Goddess of War steps up to me, her girdle soaked with still viscous blood. She has a multitude of hands, some of which bear weapons, some of which bears masks, some of which bears books, and some of which bears the symbols of religion. She raises a sword to my face. “Would you conquer us and make yourself queen? You and what army? Come and face me!”

“Why?” My answer shocked War into sudden silence. Chaos stops laughing to better listen. Knowledge smiles and turns away. “You guys are worse than children. An eternity of Adult Day Care? No thanks! I’m not here to take anyone’s place, War. I’m here to put the God of Little Things back into his place.” War is surprised by my answer. She looks at me closely and realizes my power. She changes from menacing guard to protective defender. Several of her many hands try to hold me close to her.

“I will sponsor this one! And take her under my shield! Let her name be written in my lineage!” War’s announcement takes most by surprise. Chaos falls over in tearful laughter again. Order finally sees what War and Smithy saw, and tries to grab me for himself. I slip out of both gods’ reaches.

I see Chaos pull Mark away from the increasingly crowded floor, and hide him in her robes. She catches my eye and I hear the voice of Chaos in my mind. “Go, Goddess. There is a false wall to your right. It leads to the lair of the Ancient Ones. Those are the ones you seek. Go, Goddess! Destroy yourself! And accept my thanks for what you are about to do.”

Other gods, now wanting whatever it is that War and Order want, start trying to grab me for themselves. Most don’t know why, only that if War and Order want it, then it must be good if only as a political tool for later.

Time slows down, movement comes to a stop, with my Divine Eye, I see the path I must take to achieve my goal. Like a thread of pure light, the path is drawn from me towards the hidden hall. Instead of a straight path, the thread turns and ducks as it uncoils. I know it to be dodging obstacles I don’t see yet. I memorize the path. Time resumes.

I spring forward, matching the speed of the thread only I had seen. Fast in some places, barely moving in others. As the other gods reach for me, I out-maneuver them. Hands close onto empty air. Intercepting paths cross nothing. Chaos starts laughing again, as I frustrate the careful commands of those loyal to Order, and pierce the apparition hiding the Hall of the Ancient Ones.

Behind me, I hear Order and the Goddess of Love arguing. She did her work too well, he says. Of all the humans to get to fall in love with Mark, did she have to pick the one that wasn’t afraid of the pantheon, he says. The pantheon is going to be undone, and all because of a runaway love spell, he says.

Wait. I never considered this. This was all… but… the little things he did for me… the little things I overlooked for him… The truth. It burns. I did come to love Mark on my own, but not until after the love spell had worn off.

This was all his fault, she says. He insisted on finding a human that would not be merely obedient, she says. The love spell didn’t even take, because the human he had picked kept too careful control over her heart, she says. Yes, the human does love him, and loves him to the point she is acting with her heart and her mind, she says. This is what happens when you try to hold on to control too damn tight, she says. The pantheon is going to be undone, and perhaps this is a good thing, she says.

The pantheon might be undone, but I sure as hell will be. I pick up my speed, and race down the hallways into the beginnings of an underground cave. The further I run, the older the cave rock around me, the deeper into the Unknown I venture.

“Goddess! Come back! Not all the Ancient Ones were destroyed!” I stop and turn to look behind me. War, carried on the back of another god with winged shoes, was crying out to me. “Goddess! We can make room for you! You will be adored and loved. But to go further, is to be destroyed! Not even I can stand there. And you still have the stench of humanity upon you! They’ll rip you to pieces, and there is nothing we can do.”

I know what I am now. I have no fear. I will see my husband returned even if it meant my death. “I know! Go back, War! Leave me. I know.” I turned away, and plunged myself into the waiting darkness.

A thick Darkness embraces me. Picking me off my feet and holding me fast. I haven’t even the leeway to feebly struggle. “I have been watching, goddess. What do you want from us that you risk dissolution to obtain it?”

“I want the God of Little Things restored to his station as he was before, with the powers he had before.”

The Darkness grows cold around me. “That is all?” I affirm such. “You want nothing for yourself?” I shake my head. “You do not ask to be goddess with him? Why not?”

“I am a goddess because he was fraudulently stripped of his godhood. Let him take his rightful place, and I will take my rightful place. Becoming a mortal has destroyed him.”

“Your marriage will be undone. You will be undone.” I nod, knowing this would be the outcome from the moment I set out to put things right.

“Surrender to us then, to Those That Came Before. Dissolve yourself in us, and your desire will be fulfilled.” I felt other Ancient Ones surround me. I was released from Darkness’ unbreakable grip. A floor held my feet. A glimmer behind me betrayed the way to safety. The Ancient Ones were giving me one last chance to change my mind.

I knelt in submission, and was consumed so quickly, even the knowledge of my destruction could not be written.

I’m seated at a diner, coffee cup in my hand. I had finally had enough of the blind-date’s prattlings and had assaulted him with the red roses he had brought me. “Go find a mirror, you Narcissus! Leave breathing folk alone!” The waitress had brought me a fresh cup of coffee, and a slice of cake (manager’s gift!) as an “atta-girl” for standing up for myself.

I was still upset.

Why can’t people pay attention to the little things?

“If there is a god of little things, I sure would like a little help my way, please.” Only the coffee cup heard me.

“Excuse me, forgive me for intruding. I just have to tell you, the way the light shines on your face, makes you look beautiful. It’s not the light itself, it’s what the light reveals.” I look up from my coffee, to see an average looking man standing over me. I’m trying to roll my eyes at the blatant pick-up lines, but his words, his voice, sounds so familiar. I find myself unable to be snarky with him.

He smiles as I pause, a hint of sadness in his face. “Here, for you. We will likely never meet again, but I can’t let this moment pass without saying anything. He places a potted mini-rose and a jar of honey on the table.

“I know it’s an odd gift from an odd man. I think you can appreciate it though. The mini roses are black, you see. Most people don’t like that. And the honey is bitter. Again, most people don’t like that. I had hoped to give it to… But…” I can tell his heart is broken, and he’s trying to salvage himself with this random kindness. I pull the gifts towards me.

“Most people don’t appreciate the little things.” I smile as I answer him. “But it’s the little things that can save you or destroy you. Thank you, I will cherish these.” He brightens into a vibrant smile even as the tears streak his face. Poor man. I hope she was worth it.

“Thank you, kind stranger. I think I can face the coming days now.” He wipes his eyes and pats my hand. He recomposes himself and walks towards the door behind me. I hear him whisper, “Always a goddess to me…”, followed by a name I only heard in a dream.

I turn to challenge him about the name, but he is gone. I sit alone in the cafe, with a jar of honey as sweet as remorse, with a rose bush that blooms the Darkest Dreams.

Make of that, what you may.