Land: Grimdark Norse Mythology Retelling of Discovery of Iceland: The Ten Worlds, #2

PART I

OUTSIDE

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, every where,

Nor any drop to drink.

(The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

CHAPTER 1

MAGNI

I must have still been blindfolded when it started, I had to be. So Maya was right when she said it was fake. I would try to recall it a thousand times and I would always be blindfolded when it started.

One day earlier, not even a whole day, I was ‘invited’ to the Assembly where the Gods would decide on the manner of my death – so I thought. Maya and I were accused of plotting to keep my father – Thor – outside Ásgard by building a wall, and rightly so, my only regret being that it failed anyway. The Great Hall where the Assembly took place was filled with so much magic it nearly made me throw up. I only didn’t because Heimdall blindfolded me. Just his touch made me forget where I was, and when I closed my eyes underneath the blindfold I saw his focused eyes that bored into my soul, the sharp contours of his face, the way his impossibly white clothes gave his smooth, golden skin a slight bronze tint. He was a beacon of light as he guarded the Rainbow Bridge so nobody could cross it and enter the Gods’ domain. The point of Heimdall, the Gods’ Sentinel, was to be seen. I didn’t know I was soon going to see him in all the detail. Or that less than a day later his features would become a blur to me. Except for his sword.

Before dawn the next day, we – Lady Freya, when I still respected her, Maya, and I – had emerged from among the roots of the Tree. We had crossed from one world to the next, reaching Jötunheim with its sharp cold and air tasting slightly of metal. We kept walking through the snow a bit longer, so I’d get further from Yggdrasil’s sickening magic. Some parts of my body were still pleasantly warm, my lips swollen from Heimdall’s stubbly kisses. I would see Mother – Queen – Mage. Maya dropped my hand, which meant I was safe from the Tree. And then it struck. As I was lifting my hand to reach for the blindfold.

I could neither change nor erase this memory.

I had raised my hand to pull off the scarf covering my eyes, because I had to see to keep walking without falling; by the time my fingers reached the wool, it was because I had to see what and why I was feeling. My mind and heart opened, a hurricane blew everything away, cleansed me and made space for him. I hated the darkness, because it made it impossible to see him. If I could see that I couldn’t see him, it was love before first sight. Which couldn’t exist without Freya using her magic, making Maya right when she said the love between me and him was fake. But it never had been. Nothing has ever been more real. So, the clearest memory of my life must have been wrong. I couldn’t have been blindfolded, I must have seen what happened next before it could happen.

People were waiting. They carried torches. I could hear voices, the noises horses were making, none of it important. I was sensing him, standing next to the embers of a bonfire. Why wasn’t it burning brighter? The man who was my life was – I couldn’t think straight – too far. I had to get to him. I half-ran, half-slipped off the hill’s slope, cursing, because I couldn’t fly. Shock sent a shudder through me when someone who wasn’t my man grabbed my hand. Stopped me from going where I had to be. Told me to get on a sled. I wanted to fight, but we came here for… I couldn’t remember… to meet Mother. The bag Freya had told me to carry had been taken from me, or maybe I had lost it, or it had disappeared.

My man helped Maya get on the horse, then mounted it himself. I couldn’t ride a horse even alone, maybe a horse that was magical and then I wouldn’t want to, I hated magic, it was unnatural, but now Maya was with him and I was on a sled, I would take all the magic. Why couldn’t dawn arrive faster? It was just too dark and I wanted to cry with frustration. Where was Lady Freya? On another horse. She was the Goddess of love, she would understand. She’d know how much I needed him.

We were not moving very fast, probably because of my weight, the sled being pulled by two horses. My neck hurt, I couldn’t twist it enough. I ignored the ache. Everything around me was blurry except the silhouette of a man on horseback. My man was still holding a torch – his arm must have been hurting. When it got lighter he threw the torch in the snow and I relaxed a bit, knowing he was more comfortable. His other arm was wrapped around Maya’s waist and I didn’t really hate Maya for that, but I sort of did, a bit. The sled wobbled when I tried to change my position and I nearly fell off. Why was he wearing a fur-lined hood? I cursed the weather. Why did it have to be cold? Everything was against us… me.

I barely registered fallen trees around us and the familiar roar of Ifing. When the sled stopped I followed on foot as my man, Maya, and others continued on horseback, between fire pits, barking dogs, hens, children’s cries. Cats. I nearly stepped on one. This was a town built of tents. One of them towered above the others like a castle. My Mother, the Queen and Mage, must have been there, and I really couldn’t wait to see her. It’s just that I wanted to see him first.

This is where you’ll be staying, Lady Freya announced. They dismounted. Turn towards me. I made sure of your comfort. The meal will be brought soon. It should be warm inside, there is a brazier. Bælin? Oh, there you are, darling. She kissed someone on the lips, a brief peck for a tall bear of a man who wasn’t him. Thorolf will remain with you in this tent at all times. None of you will leave, Lady Freya emphasised, unless told otherwise.

Maya let out a snort. I knew you’d betray us, but imprisoning us on arrival is quick even for your standards.

You are guests of honour, said Bælin, and we can’t risk you being seen by too many people. That’s all.

Let me see him!

There you are, said my man, opening the tent flap, his voice low, strangled. He cleared his throat. My Graces.

And then we were all inside and it was warmer, so I dropped my own woollen cloak, and he pulled the hood back.

Thorolf, she had said, Thorolf.

I had never known craving like this. Thorolf. He was lacking from my veins and my mind and my heart. I needed Thorolf’s touch, taste, his everything just to live. It was bewildering and all-consuming. I still couldn’t get my real first sight. His skin must have been dark because I could only see the whites of his eyes. Not enough, never enough, Thorolf.

Two beds, Maya said. Three people. Well, I’m not sharing. She looked around. Ah, yes, a tent, a brazier, a dark elf. Exactly like in my vision. You can sit down and hold hands now, both of you. Magni? Do you hear me?

My knees sort of stopped working and I found myself sitting on one of the beds – piles of furs and skins. My fingers convulsively grabbed at one. Hold hands. She had a vision of us holding hands.

My Grace, Thorolf started, then coughed. Your Grace, this is… I am a guard. I will just… stand here.

Now I’d heard his voice, and I wanted to hear more of it. Saying something else. Like ‘yes’.

You’re wasting time, but do as you wish. Where’s that food? Any water in here?

Thorolf indicated with a nod.

Now my eyes were used to the dim light, I could tell how beautiful he was, even though I couldn’t really see, but there could be nobody more beautiful in the world. My head was blabbering. Thorolf. The most beautiful word I’d ever heard, whether ‘Thor’ was in it or not. ‘Thorolf’ was exactly right, it was perfect.

If his name was Cockwomble you’d think the same, a strange voice inside my head remarked, but it wasn’t biting. It was…curious.

We are guests, yes? Maya checked. Not prisoners?

He nodded.

And we are Gods. Um, I mean, Magni here is, I am Freya’s… I don’t even know what by now. She sounded bitter. Anyway, Magni, as a God, why don’t you command our guard to sit next to you, so you can hold hands?

O-only if he wants to. My voice was foreign to me. I had a boulder stuck in my throat. I swallowed nothing, my mouth dry, hot. My hand was cold. It craved. W-would you like…

It would be inappropriate, Your G-grace…

You’re wasting time, Maya repeated. My vision will come true whenever you get to it, then. Where’s that meal?

As if on command, the flap opened. The large man – Bælin – came inside with a tray he handed to Maya, left again, and returned with another for me. I hope you enjoy, he said. If you need anything else…

And where is the third? Maya asked.

The third?

Meal for our guard.

I am not hungry, Your Grace, Thorolf said.

I’ll share, I quickly said. I am not hungry either.

He’s always like this, Maya said to Bælin. If you don’t want your guest of honour to go hungry, off you go and bring food for Thorolf.

Something glinted in Bælin’s eye – did he wink at me? – and he disappeared without another word.

He brought soup of some sort and a chunk of bread – my memories of Jötunheim bread were not fond, but this looked much better. Edible, even. That was all. Lady Freya had insisted on us eating a big supper before our departure. I was distracted by…the events, though, and hadn’t been hungry. I was now. I licked my lips, ready to… it’s just that Thorolf stood there, waiting…

There is no morsel of food you can’t split in half.

The hunger insisted. I was not going to eat until my man got fed, though. I put my tray away. The soup would go cold, the steam slowly replaced with thin layer of fat. My stomach demanded and I still wouldn’t. When Bælin returned I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

Why don’t you sit next to Magni, Maya cooed, as Thorolf stood with his tray, both his hands occupied. He couldn’t eat, only watch and smell, and I got angry, although I didn’t know with whom or what.

I’ll just– just sit on the ground.

Nonsense. Do I outrank you? I must, since I am a My Grace and a guest of honour. Sit, she snapped.

With a question and terror in his huge eyes, Thorolf took a few shaky steps in my direction. I moved my tray, making space for him, and nodded stiffly. He sat too far, but then if he sat in my lap it would also be too far. Eating was such a foreign idea. We weren’t touching, why weren’t we… I still felt him. I’d sense him from the other side of Ifing. How had I ever lived without Thorolf? Tears blurred my eyes in sympathy for the old me. I was overwhelmed. Hunger. I was hungry. Food was for eating, so I wouldn’t be. Hungry.

I picked up a spoon and forced some lukewarm soup in, nearly choking on it. It was acceptable, even if Maya made faces and complained, saying something about Ásgardian food and guests of honour. It’s just that the hunger inside me left no space for food.

‘Oh, for Gods’ sake! What’s going on with you two? Eat, so you can hold hands. I have premonitions, Maya informed Thorolf, who sat motionless with his chunk of bread in his hand. I have seen this bit of future. Once you’re done with the food, your hands will be free. You must be starving."

Neither of us said anything. The spoon in my hand shook slightly.

Her accusing glare moved towards me. "I thought you were insufferable after that night with Heimdall. Last night, she specified, in case I forgot. I had. Previous life, more like. What is happening?"

I forced another spoonful of soup into my mouth to avoid answering. Heimdall’s dark eyes, skin, white robe or something. I had been asking Maya earlier whether other Gods also had dungeons in their bedrooms, I suddenly recalled, and blushed, as if Thorolf could hear my thoughts. I remembered thinking I would never forget that night. Now I couldn’t work out why. It made no sense. It was only Heimdall.

I had to swallow that soup. I couldn’t spit it out without anyone noticing. My stomach wasn’t protesting like it used to when I had been eating Idunn’s fruit, it just wasn’t interested. I only cared for… Mother, I reminded myself. The thought was hollow. The fact that I couldn’t touch him was driving me insane, and I started eating faster; she was right. Once all this was gone I would be closer to the holding of the hands. We were wasting time.

Are you two in love?

This was love?! That explained… nothing. I must have been in love, although I couldn’t remember right now, I had never felt like this. I wasn’t sure what my name was. Why would I be in love without Thorolf?

You’re in love! I’m going to strangle her at nearest opportunity, Maya spat, heading towards the tent’s opening. I want to talk with Lady Freya. Now.

I’m afraid it’s not possible, Your Grace. Her Grace Freya is now meeting Her Highness. I was informed, however, that you will be invited into her boudoir later. Every word was clear but a blur, we were almost alone, except for the rest of Maya, but her head was outside, so she couldn’t see… I swallowed another spoonful of the soup before realising it was a spoonful of nothing at all. I had finished it. Are you two in love? Was it cruel of me to want Thorolf to be, too? If he refused me… I couldn’t bear the thought.

Mint tea. Maya. I shuddered. She could punish me. I wouldn’t let her do it to Thorolf.

Excuse me?

I want mint tea.

I– I don’t know what that is…

Oh, good. That stink still haunted me, really something I’d never forget. I shifted and accidentally moved closer to Thorolf, but only a small bit. He winced and my cheeks blazed. Maybe he really didn’t want to sit here with me. Should I move away? He’d notice it wasn’t accidental… As if I even could move away.

Water, then. And something for them. Stout, ale, mead, you must have something here.

Is she always like this? he whispered.

A shock went through me. Thorolf said something to me. I had to process the words one by one, line them up into a sentence, which was a question. No, I whispered back. I think she’s angry. Finish your food.

I’m…trying, Your Grace.

And don’t call me that. My name is Magni.

I have to… procedures…

Oh, at least you’re talking, Maya said grumpily and both of us flinched. My empty bowl fell on the ground, the spoon clanging against clay. She stared pointedly at the bread I forgot I was holding. If she wasn’t watching, I’d hide it under the furs. "What is she playing at in her boudoir?"

Neither of us had an answer. Every time I thought of ‘we’ or ‘us’ a little pang of happiness and fear at once came along.

The drinks arrived, together with a small table. Maya helped herself to a mug of water, then looked at us questioningly. I needed some water, yes. Cold, thrown in my face. I tried to convey that with my eyes. Judging by her sigh, I either failed or succeeded.

I’m tired, Maya announced between sips. I’m going to have a nap. Will that help you be more comfortable?

The idea of being comfortable was currently as foreign to me as… something very foreign. I put the tray away, the bread on shameful display, untouched. Maybe I’d get hungry later. I had to take care of my man.

Eat, I whispered to Thorolf. I command you. I was a God. Or a half-God, at least. I could command him. I didn’t want to, though. Just a bit. Unless he didn’t want to be commanded.

I can’t.

Why not?

I… I’m not hungry, Your Grace.

Maya began to snore, which was how I knew she wasn’t asleep. Just the soup? I pleaded.

I’m trying…

Some sort of magic I didn’t mind happened and we were now close enough for our arms to touch through many layers of clothing. I wished the tent was hot, so we could get less covered. It wasn’t, though, even with the layers. The brazier was pitiful, producing barely any heat, the smoke hole on top of the tent letting in cold. I wanted the thing refilled, both because of our layers and because I needed light. I didn’t dare to ask in case it turned out this was Thorolf’s duty and I’d both be giving him work and he would stop sitting next to me.

Maya’s snoring finally ceased, replaced by normal, slow breaths. Now she had really fallen asleep. I shifted again, my knees touching Thorolf’s. He did the same. We could finally see each other a bit. I had never known dark elves were so… dark. I had never met any, except Idunn, and I never thought of her as a dark elf, she was simply Idunn. The whites of Thorolf’s eyes shone, the pupils reflecting the miserable light. His hair was cropped very short, so was the stubble on his face. Those lips… I could just… my thoughts fell apart.

I opened my hand and nodded, hoping he’d know the words I didn’t. Thorolf glanced at my hand. May I? he whispered.

Please…

The Nine could stop existing right now as long as I could still hold his hand, although I would prefer it if the Universe lasted longer, because those lips. Our hands were sharing our sweat. He bit his lip and I thought I’d die, but I didn’t, then the tip of his tongue briefly appeared and then I really thought I’d die and I still didn’t.

It was as if a day flew by like a quick breath. Maya smacked her lips, yawned, and we couldn’t move away from each other faster.

I can tell, she informed us, stood up, stretched, yawned one more time, and stuck her head through the opening again. I would like this brazier refilled, please. Also, is this all the food we’re getting?

His Grace Magni and the guard will be fed soon, Your Grace, when you depart for your meeting with Her Grace Freya.

Thorolf abruptly stood up. His hand was not in mine, his knee wasn’t touching mine, he was… the guard.

And that will be when?

When Her Grace sends for you, Your Grace.

I rolled my eyes. If only we had names to clarify who was being addressed. Instead, we had hierarchy that made Thorolf not sit next to me at all. What are you doing? I hissed desperately.

Thorolf, standing in a corner, crossed his arms on his chest. Guarding, he said, Your Grace.

Oh, f-for Gods’ sake, I said angry. You heard Her Grace, she has to see us holding hands. She had said that. Ordered. Thorolf approached me again, doing something like a curtsy, before dropping next to me. Our fingers immediately intertwined, making my hand complete. I hoped Maya would issue some more orders. Again, a thought that was hope: maybe he feels like I do without being ordered.

Maya grinned when she returned to her spot. The ‘beds’ were piles of furs and skins, reminding me a bit of Thor’s bedroom, where… where I didn’t want to think of what happened. Very good, she approved. Tell me a bit about yourself, Thorolf.

Why didn’t I think of this?! Because I couldn’t think about anything.

There’s not much to tell, Your Grace… He cleared his throat.

I think you need a drink. Maya filled two mugs and handed them to us. He leaned forward to take his, muttering something apologetic. Our arms, together with the layers, rubbed against each other, so did his leg, and when he moved, so did my cock. I knew Maya couldn’t see it, but I still blushed.

Tell us everything, I rasped, then gulped half of what turned out to be watered ale. It tasted of Jötunheim. Could I take him to Ásgard? Take him right now?

I’m a… He paused. It’s called ‘indentured’. I am in the employment of Her Highness Queen Járnsaxa, same as my sister. Gerdur.

What is an indentured? I asked.

A slave, Maya said with a note of disgust. It just sounds nicer.

No… we are taken care of… there is a contract.

Long?

I had no idea what they were talking about.

Lifetime, Thorolf said quietly.

He’s a slave, Maya informed me matter-of-factly. Your mother’s. What are your duties?

His fingers stopped being mine. I am a soldier, Your Grace, Thorolf said flatly, his back straight, hands on his knees. Nobody important, just… one of us. My sister is a lady-in-waiting. She… His voice softened. My sister is different from other people. The Queen is very kind to her. We lack nothing. It’s a good life.

How do two dark elves find themselves serving a jötunn queen?

She was interrogating him. I was grateful, because I’d never dare to be so blunt, but also my hand was now missing five fingers.

We were slaves. We… Her Grace Freya bought us and brought us here, and gifted us to the Queen.

Why?

Why what, Your Grace?

Never mind, I’ll find out. When did this happen?

A few moon-turns ago, in midwinter, Thorolf said. We were very lucky. Bought him? Gifted to Mother? I didn’t understand how those words went together. Slave? Did that mean what I thought it meant?

"Ah, in midwinter, Maya said, each word an arrowhead dripping with venom. I knew the target was Freya, but that sharpness still scared me. When we were building the wall. Such coincidental timing. Tell me about your family."

They’re dead, Thorolf said, and it got colder in the tent.

May I come in? A man’s voice. Thorolf jumped to his feet and crossed his arms on his chest again, standing in a corner, divided from me by an invisible wall. Maya seemed relieved. I was cursing her for being so insensitive and myself for being grateful towards her. Those were too many feelings.

The tent became lighter. Soon it got warmer… that felt nice… soft… With a startle, I woke up – I was dozing off. What I was leaning against was not a wall, it was canvas. If I dozed off harder, we’d be under the tent, not in it. I really had to lie down for a while. It wasn’t fair, though. Thorolf had also had a sleepless night. I shouldn’t… my eyes shut by themselves. When I made them open again, a yawn escaped from my mouth. My body was betraying me.

You know what, Maya said, why don’t I leave you and go for a walk? Thorolf, you can take my bed, I swear I’ll return and Magni isn’t going anywhere as long as you’re guarding him.

We’re not allowed to go out, I reminded her.

She snorted. Watch me.

We watched her.

Nothing happened.

There is no mana, Maya said, bewildered. Not a drop. She paced around the tent. It’s … gone. How can this be? Not a drop! As if we’re hanging above water. Like in that jarl’s room. Bugger Freya! She stopped, deflated. No mana meant no magic, I knew this much.

I can lie down on the floor, I said.

Nonsense. I’m going to sit by the brazier, I’m cold. Thorolf, lie down on my bed.

Your Grace, I can’t do that.

I order you to. I am a Go… Maya’s voice died out. Oh, ha ha, actually I am not. Sometimes I forget. Magni, order him to lie down.

Lie down, I said. Next to me. On me.

I am guarding you, Thorolf answered, ‘you’ dragging into a desperate yawn.

You can guard us lying down, Maya said.

I… I must report every word you say to Her Highness.

What?!

Orders, Thorolf said. He sounded small and a bit broken. She… she doesn’t have to keep my sister near her at all times. She can send her to… somewhere… where there will be other soldiers. My head was shaking in protest by itself. My mother wouldn’t… couldn’t… she was the Queen.

Before Thor turned the City of Light into rubble, not caring whether Mother or I were safe, or how many would die, King Thrymr did much worse things.

How old is she? I whispered.

Fourteen, he said in a tiny voice that made me want to grab him in my arms and never let go. Her mind isn’t… it’s… she fell. His shoulders were shaking. I was shaking, too.

Thorolf, Maya said softly, the commanding edge gone, as if she’d turned into someone who cared. I swear an oath, here and now, on Odin’s staff, that Magni and I will not exchange a word until I have to go. This is my oath and I make it freely. Does this help?

I swear, too, I quickly said.

I won’t sleep, he mumbled and my heart beat maybe twice before I found out he snored. I smiled and thought about him until a voice woke me up.

What… I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. Movement – Thorolf jumping up, returning to his corner, dragging my sleepy gaze along.

It’s for me, Maya said, lifting herself from the skin she was sitting on. About time, my back was starting to hurt. I bet Freya’s boudoir is more comfortable.

Her Grace Freya requested that you spend the night with her, Your Grace.

Spend the night?

My eyes opened wider.

His Grace Magni will be guarded well. All night. Uninterrupted. The way he spoke was confusing. The man was not making fun of us, even when he emphasised the last word. He sounded…worried. I gulped. Did ‘uninterrupted’ mean what I hoped it meant?

Sleep well, Maya said softly, smiling. Outside the tent, she sounded very different. "This will be a good moment to give them both dinner and make sure that brazier stays hot!" Her sharp voice reminded me of Freya’s.

CHAPTER 2

MAYA

Calm lake on a quiet day, I told myself. Calm lake, quiet day… oh, bugger both. It had never worked anyway, no matter how hard I was calming and quieting myself. I was going to erupt in Freya’s face the moment I laid my eyes on her. Preparing some insults in advance would be a better use of my time.

As we walked through the camp, I tripped over a cat doing its best to be invisible, and I instinctively thought good job. Tripping people was what I did best in my cat form, unless I was standing in the doorway, meowing loudly, as the person tried to figure out whether I wanted the door shut or open. Or sleeping. I had promised myself not to ever shift into anything again anyway, but I preferred keeping promises because I chose to do so. With every step, I kept discovering no mana whatsoever. As if all of it got used up.

The Queen’s enormous tent was placed right where the road between Ifing and the City of Light used to be. I had built most of that city and given it its magic, as King Thrymr’s sorceress – or, as everyone else including Magni used to call me behind my back, witch. There used to be a road, and mana underneath, when I had delivered Thor’s hammer to the King, who had thought Freya would marry him to get the thing back. Then the King had attempted to rape me, I had taken away the City’s light, met Magni, in my cat form watched Thor in a wedding dress and Loki as a bridesmaid, all of a sudden the City of Light turned into a Pile of Dust and Blood, and I was taken to Ásgard, and Magni to Midgard. Now I only recognised the place because… actually, I wasn’t sure how. There was no city, no pile, no road. The Haunted Forest nobody but Magni dared to enter was gone, razed to the ground. The only thing that remained the same was the furious roar of Ifing, the river which could not be crossed unless someone with an orb filled with mana hovering above his head was delivering Thor’s hammer to me, so I could…

Nausea rose in my throat. That past was what led to us being here today. Without me, could the City still be here, even as a pile of turf badly lit without my magic? I had been there, though, and now it was a war camp. Those were lots of people, mostly jötnar and humans, an occasional elf, united by their hatred of the Gods who claimed Ásgard for themselves. They wanted in.

A very small part of me hoped they would succeed.

Your Grace.

Next to the Queen’s ‘palace’ stood a somewhat smaller one. The man lifted the flap, pointed invitingly, and waited. Meow, I thought, not moving.

You’re wasting heat, Freya called from inside the tent.

I told myself that erupting outside would be a waste of breath and slid in.

The first thing I saw was pillows. All the pillows. Everything here was colourful and subdued at the same time, the opposite of Sessrúmnir or the guests of honour’s tent with a smoking brazier. Freya stretched herself comfortably, playing with a grape, smiling sweetly.

I forgot what I intended to yell first, so I decided on a general ‘you scheming bint!’ I didn’t even get to ‘bint’ before an arm wrapped itself around my waist and something sharp poked my throat.

Your Grace, a man’s voice said kindly.

Manners, Freya said, admiring her fingernails. You will observe manners here. There will be no raising of your voice, throwing things, or whatever you feel like doing. In general, if you feel like doing it, don’t.

I felt like not being touched by this man.

That’s enough, Herjólf, Freya said and my wish came true. Please wait outside. You will hear if I need you.

Your Grace, the man repeated, bowed, and left me with an itching sense of familiarity.

Sit down, petal. Wherever you like. Not there, I like to face the entrance. Closer to me. Are you hungry? I will call for supper, just say when.

You made them fall in love, I hissed. Don’t do the shocked face. You know exactly what I mean.

Oh, I do, Freya said lightly. Pink wine?

You even have that here?

I have almost everything I need. Once you and Magni breach the wall and Járnsaxa with her army enter Ásgard, we’ll finish our preparations.

Me and Magni breach the wall? I was so shocked I actually drank some of the sparkling liquid which tasted like sugar, only with more sugar.

Freya stretched and yawned, showing her teeth. She resembled a cat more than I had while being one. How else do you think they will enter?

What about Ifing? They can’t cross Ifing.

That will be taken care of. She did that thing where she paused, pretending she was being polite and giving me a chance to comment, knowing I was temporarily incapacitated. The river will freeze, Freya continued. She sounded bored. Have I mentioned the great mage, the Queen, can control weather? In the right conditions, everything freezes. Thanks to the rocks, you and Magni should make it through without much problem. You don’t have to fell all the wall, just enough for the army to enter.

I didn’t even know where to begin imagining any of this.

Once they’re in, and Magni kills Thor…

I snorted the wine through my nose, nearly drowning.

Darling, I’m sure you understand this is necessary. Otherwise there will be a massacre. We don’t want that, do we? The jötnar have suffered enough. As if you care, I wanted to say in carefully non-raised voice. Freya didn’t pause this time, though, and I knew better than to interrupt her. Nobody but Magni can do it. You have already proven you can transport the hammer. You will simply ensure Thor can’t reach it. Magni won’t need it, I’ll tell him exactly what to do.

No part of me could move, including my lips. I thought she had brought us here as hostages, or… actually I hadn’t thought anything at all, too busy being furious with her for making Magni and Thorolf fall in love. Unless they had suddenly developed a very peculiar illness… right. Erupt calmly, I instructed myself, and opened my mouth.

I think you must be hungry by now, Freya sighed and rang a metal bell a few times.

A young dark elf – that age between a girl and a woman – appeared. Your Grace?

This is your Auntie Maya.

Hello, Auntie Maya. My name is Gerdur.

My mouth shut.

Auntie Maya is very nice, Freya cooed. She and Thorolf are already friends. You will get along very well.

They are friends? There was suspicion in the child’s gaze in a woman’s body.

"Yes, pumpkin. Your brother and Auntie Maya adore each other. Why don’t you give Auntie a kiss?"

Gerdur approached me, a bit warily. I did my best to lift myself up, dizzy, my hands gently hugging her when she gave me a slightly wet kiss. I am a good girl, she announced when I let go of her.

Very, I croaked.

See? Freya beamed. You’ve made a new friend! Isn’t it nice?

The Chieftain isn’t nice, Gerdur complained.

Auntie Maya will tell him to be nice tomorrow, when she’s done with her work. Why don’t you wish her good luck, then tell the cooks we’re ready for dinner?

Good luck, Auntie Maya! Bye bye! She skipped outside excitedly.

I didn’t drop back on all the pillows, I fell. Everything inside me hurt. I had spent a sleepless night riding a horse, rather than shifting into one myself, which gave me an idea of how Magni felt about magic being unnatural. Thorolf’s instructions to move with the animal made me think of what Loki had done to me, and I had decided to instantly dislike Thorolf for calling us horses ‘animals’. Once we had arrived, with the exception of my nap, I had spent the whole day telling Magni and Thorolf how to be in love without starving to death, and boiling with anger at Freya. Now I could tell her what I thought, I couldn’t think at all. You are… I gasped. You are…

Don’t Thorolf and his sister look alike? Such sweethearts. You see, Thorolf would do anything for her. Absolutely anything. And, as it happens, since there is a budding feeling…

You’re…! Freya simply pointed at the entrance. I wanted to say you’re a monster, I continued somewhat quieter, my voice trembling, "but that would be offensive to monsters. You made them fall in love so you can… what? What do you actually want?"

I want Magni’s happiness, she said, sweeter and stickier than the pink wine. Aren’t they cute, pumpkin? Young love is so wonderful.

"I am trying not to throw this at you."

"We’re talking here, inside this tent, because there is no way for Odin’s raven to enter it unnoticed. Heimdall hears every word uttered in Ásgard and Midgard. Not in Jötunheim. This is as private a conversation as private gets. You know what Odin has done to my kin. They no longer exist. The jötnar love me and will do anything for me. I could harm them if I wanted to, like Odin and his son – you remember Thor is his son? – but I won’t. I’ll open Ásgard for them, and you will help me, because that’s what’s right."

O-Odin… he’ll overpower you.

Wolf’s teeth shone between blood-red lips. Odin couldn’t grasp the enormity of power I wield, darling.

So you want his throne?

Oh, no, said Freya, rolling her eyes. Why would I? I have a much better candidate, someone deserving. No, petal, not you, don’t be ridiculous.

I haven’t said anything!

Keep. Your. Voice. Down. This tent can keep a raven outside, but it’s not soundproof. That slightly cheered me up. If she was letting this Herjólf listen, he and his knife wouldn’t be around much longer. It’s a simple plan, sweetie. We let the jötnar in. You and I take Idunn, Bragi, Freyr. We’ll need gold, too. The rest? Freya shrugged. "The jötnar might treat them better than they have treated the jötnar. Or not. It won’t be our problem anymore. Odin will be overthrown. Why do you think Frigg dislikes me? She knows."

But in the prophecy, it says, um, that Odin…

It’s only a long, boring poem that means nothing. I’m not even in it. Balderdash, she judged. Not that I will be around. I will be ruling Earth, the Tenth world, with the help of those I deem useful and loyal to me. Do you know what ‘loyal’ means?

What about Magni and Thorolf? And Gerdur?

We were interrupted by the dinner’s arrival. Two men carried in a low table, bowls and plates filled with all sorts of delicacies for Freya not to eat. This was all for me. I should be too shocked to eat. Unfortunately, the smell of meat, which turned out to be beautifully baked crispy chicken, made that impossible.

You were saying, dear?

Magni and Thorolf, I mumbled through chicken, guilty at not being shocked enough, and Gerdur. Will you discard them all?

I need Magni. He needs Thorolf. Thorolf needs Gerdur. Gerdur is being taken care of. The teeth flashed again. By the Queen. And I take care of the Queen’s needs. Love, darling, is a power greater than anything Odin has lying around.

And…me?

Oh, said Freya, putting down the disfigured grape and picking another one, that’s up to you.

I tried to purse my lips on the chicken leg. When she sounded bored or angry wasn’t when Freya was to be feared the most. It was when she sounded completely neutral. Like now. If I were to refuse to aid her plan… then Magni would have to do it on his own, which would set a chain of events in motion, at the end of which I’d potentially have everyone’s blood on my hands. Including Gerdur’s. I clenched my teeth so hard the bone broke. Freya observed me with the same sort of interest one reserves for dung-beetles as I picked out the pieces from my mouth.

Please use a wet towelette to wipe your hands, darling, do not stain my cushions. They’re silk.

I used a buggered wet towelette to wipe my hands.

You should really have a baked apple. They’re lovely.

How would you know? I snarled.

The Queen says so.

I have a question, I said.

Have a baked apple.

Why would you pick…

Have a baked apple.

Are you serious?!

Have a baked apple.

I thought I had learned everything there was to learn about Freya. That I understood how evil she could be, even for no particular reason. People associated her with cats. Freya hated having cats around. They were competition at cruelty towards those they chose to play with.

I took a buggered baked apple and stuck a chunk in my mouth, determined to loathe it. It was lovely. What would happen to the rest of this food? By Jötunheim’s standards, this was a feast.

I have a question, I said, once I swallowed, ready to stab her with the apple if she refused to answer until I ate everything in specific order. Freya politely raised an eyebrow, gracing me with her loveliest false smile. Why, out of all people in the Nine, this Thorolf? There must be more slaves with sisters.

Oh, petal, he’s an indentured servant. ‘Slave’ is such a vulgar word. I am firmly opposed to that sort of thing. Freya leaned to the side and the chunk of apple I threw flew right past her. She could tell when she went too far with me. He’s very good looking, she continued, as if nothing had happened. And very tall. Don’t you think he and Magni make a lovely couple?

I ground my teeth. You know exactly what I mean.

One is a God, said Freya dreamily. "One is a slave. They have absolutely nothing in common, sweetheart, not a single thing. Except love. Some say love conquers everything, did you know that? We’ll see if it can, indeed, conquer everything."

I finally lost my appetite.

I made a mistake once, she confessed. Loki dared to steal my Brísingamen. Her hand shot to caress the necklace. I tried to imagine her neck bare and failed. Loki had stolen Brísingamen and survived? "He gave it to some mortal woman he wanted to love him. My Brísingamen on the neck of a human. You know Loki gets bored. I made her love him forever. She would die for him. And she did, after Loki impregnated her three times…"

Angrbóda, I gasped. You mean Angrbóda.

And that’s why we now have Hel, Fenrir wolf, and the Midgard serpent. Then, of course, I got burnt at the stake. Týr’s idea of justice. She rolled her eyes. All I did was create a bond so perfect I myself could never undo it. Like layers of paint, one after the next and the next. You can’t take paint off, layer by layer. She died at birth, Freya sighed. The serpent was too much. You know Loki doesn’t – me, I was truly sorry for her. Trust me, petal, I won’t be sorry for Magni!

A noise of fabric being moved, someone clearing his throat.

It’s okay, Herjólf, Freya called. I got a bit upset.

Your Grace.

Freya picked a raspberry – not a good choice of a fruit to fiddle with – then shocked me by eating it. When silence returned, she kept her voice low. Herjólf is the man who taught Magni all about love. I searched for him high and low, until… She quickly leaned away. I’d grabbed the goblet to empty it with big gulps, though, not to throw it at her face. I was right. I’d heard this voice. Magni had even told me his name. Herjólf ‘loved’ Magni so much he had tried to kill him when Magni had finally grown enough to say ‘no’. I put down the goblet, my mouth full of sweet poison, as Freya waited for me to say something. I had no words. She grimaced, unsatisfied. Magni and Thorolf will never stop loving each other. And Herjólf will be around. It’s going to be very interesting to watch.

What has…! She raised a finger and I tried to scream quieter. Magni done to you?

I recoiled from the expression on Freya’s face. Two things about Freya never changed: Brísingamen on her neck and her perfect beauty. I’d seen a flash of ugly, unadulterated hatred. He said he would sell me to the highest bidder, she hissed. "At the Assembly. In front of all the Gods. In front of my brother in his final days. And Odin said yes."

He didn’t mean…

Silence! When the Artisans made Brísingamen with me, Loki twisted the truth until I became a cheap whore, willing to spread my legs for dirty dwarves for a trinket. I didn’t care. Look at my Brísingamen. No lies could take it away from me. Magni – she spat the name – "made me a thing. Odin allowed that. In front of all the Gods. In front of Loki and Sif. And Frigg, who never comes to those meetings! Freya hushed herself, lifting her finger and staring at her own fingernail until it stopped shaking. When that dumb jötunn king demanded me for his wife in exchange for Mjölnir, I simply said no, and I was respected. Your friend Magni has insulted me more than anyone before or after…"

But you know why, and also it didn’t happen! I mean, you never got sold…!

Her glare froze blood in my veins. Once people found out, this became a story popular enough to keep any mediocre skald swimming in ale. The jötunn smith demanded Freya, the sun and the moon, they say. What saved poor, powerless Freya was Loki’s wit, when in the shape of a mare he seduced the smith’s stallion, giving Odin the magical horse Sleipnir. Freya’s red lips folded in a smirk.

I was the horse who had given birth to Sleipnir. I had come up with the story of Loki turning into a mare. To disgust people! Blood rushed to my face. The veins in my forehead swelled as my heartbeat turned fast and angry. Loki’s wit?!

Now you’re beginning to understand, Freya said to a grape. Stories have power even Gods don’t. You came up with a story, asked Bragi to spread it among people, and he did. What they chose to do with it was up to them. You wrote yourself out of it.

Loki is – is – they were supposed…

"Oh, petal, they are disgusted, as they laugh. At me. Once Ásgard falls, I am not keeping Bragi alive only to please Idunn. We’ll need new narratives, new truths. Please don’t wipe your hands on your trousers, use the wet towelette. A bun, sweetie?"

I wanted to protest, beg, scream, explain somehow that Magni hadn’t even been there, it was Módi… Módi would have done that. I grabbed something at random – a banana with the skin in place – and bit into it to spare my lip. The bitterness combined with the wine’s sugary glue made me want to throw up. Magni and Thorolf didn’t love each other. They couldn’t. They didn’t even know each other’s names… of course she picked someone with ‘Thor’ in his name, out of vanity and vengeance, and found this Herjólf to cause Magni even more pain, and now I knew about Loki’s wit, I couldn’t even pretend I couldn’t understand.

We’ll attack mid-day, Freya said, her voice dreamy, as if she had just eaten Idunn’s fruit. Perhaps that was why she ingested an entire raspberry in one go. Odin’s army of the dead spend the whole day battling, come back to life at night, to feast and drink. She rolled her eyes at the abhorrent urges to eat and drink. In the afternoon, they will be at their weakest. When they are reborn, Valhalla will have a new master.

CHAPTER 3

MAGNI

The supper arrived – chewy dry meat, more bread, onion slices I decided not to eat, because the word uninterrupted gave me hopes and I didn’t want onion breath. Mash I recognised as carrot and apple, surprisingly nice. A chunk of cheese. A jug of ale. Nothing hot and not much of it either. I compared my portion with Thorolf’s to make sure he didn’t get something inferior. Or less of it. I noticed that before the man with the food entered Bælin asked – without peeking inside – whether My Grace allowed it. Bælin knew. Did everyone know? While we were being interrupted, Thorolf sat on Maya’s bed, too far from me. I was hungry enough to eat the onion slices after all, although they were first, so maybe the rest would kill the smell and taste. The interruptions ended, so did my food, and now I could finally–

Thorolf made himself small, his food half-eaten. The fear in his eyes made me stop breathing. He was scared of me.

My love, I whispered, what’s happening?

He flinched, hard. Your Grace.

I didn’t intend to call him that. But if I explained, it would sound like I didn’t mean it. Which I did. May I sit next to you? I asked.

I think I shall stand up, Your Grace.

In disbelief I watched him get to his feet and return to the corner of the tent farthest from the brazier. My mouth opened, I raised my hand, not knowing what to say, do. But Thorolf didn’t take his guard stance. He dropped to the ground, wrapping his arms tight around his knees. Sobbing. I am nobody, Your G-grace. I’m a slave, Her Grace said, she’s right. I am owned by your mother, Queen Járnsaxa. Her Grace Freya has given my sister and me to her as a present. She bought us. She paid with a kiss.

I turned into a statue, my mouth still open, hand in the air. I couldn’t breathe.

One kiss, Thorolf continued, his voice getting quieter. I was so incredibly grateful she agreed to take Gerdur, too. I already decided I’d kill whoever tried to split us. Thanks to Her Grace, her kiss, I – it took me a while to understand. She saved us both from… I don’t want to think what… then she owned us for a while, as she travelled back here, and gave us to the Queen.

My hand dropped, mouth finally worked, let a word through. In-indentured…

He sniffled, wiped his eyes with his sleeve. There is a contract, he said bitterly. We do what we are told to do, and in return we get fed, clothed, we have a roof above our heads. I am named Chief Commander. Thorolf laughed bitterly. It could have been much, much worse. And it can be, any time. The things slaves are forced to… Gerdur is lucky. More. She’s happy. His voice broke. I’ll do anything… for her. Pause. Your Grace.

My love, I said. The first time was by accident. Not now. I loved him even more for loving Gerdur like this. I loved Gerdur, too, because he loved her. I loved Lady Freya for that one kiss. We, the jötnar, always knew she was the kindest Goddess. And Thorolf was my love. I was so full of the emotion. Had I ever told anybody I loved them? My father. I… I failed to tell Gunnar and then it was too late. Thorolf had to know now, in case he… no. He would never die. Not on my guard.

Please, I said, sit here next to me. If you’re going to yourgrace me, then – I swallowed the taste of onion – I order you to do it from here… if you don’t mind.

It doesn’t matter what I mind. His head hung limp as he sat where I pointed. The tears on his cheek flickered with the light of the brazier. I wanted to kiss them off so badly. I’d never dare.

Please never call me ‘Your Grace’ again, I said instead. It’s an order. Don’t ever call me that. I don’t care what they say about forms or titles. You and I are equals.

We aren’t! I flinched at the sudden outburst. For a blink, I was small. You will always be a God and I will always be nobody. Always. You’ll keep eating Idunn’s figs to keep you young and immortal. I won’t.

Figs? I asked stupidly. Out of so many things to say I picked ‘figs’?

The golden figs. Thorolf paused. Is that not true?

Possibly. I didn’t know what figs were. Thorolf… how old are you?

I’m three years older than Gerdur, she is fourteen. But in her mind, she is six or seven summers old. She will always need me. Your G – we, you and I, are on opposite sides. When we attack Ásgard, I will fight against you, against the Gods. I might die. Hopefully I won’t, because Gerdur needs me…

You won’t die! I won’t let anyone touch you!

I will do what the Queen commands me to, Thorolf continued in a quiet, wooden voice. You are a God. We are nobodies. We are things. We will never be equals.

He was wrong on so many counts. I didn’t belong in Ásgard. I wasted my immortality away. I didn’t belong anywhere but next to him, and he – next to me. A God. My mother had given birth to me in a dilapidated house in Jötunheim before Thor had paid for a bigger one, to see her without me and my grandmother interrupting, before Mother had sent me away to be raised by Gunnar, the local blacksmith whose name only I would ever remember… I shook my head. Those were day thoughts. We’re not equals, I agreed, you’re guarding me.

Y-yes?

I might escape.

No…!

So you must overpower me, I said, not quite knowing where those words came from, but making sure not to stand in their way.

I couldn’t…

Like by sitting on top of me.

Oh!

Thorolf overpowered me within a breath. With a kiss. His kiss, he was kissing me, and I didn’t order him to. I pulled him closer with my arm, so he couldn’t take his kiss away from me. I had to let go, eventually, because I wanted more, much more. And judging by what his hand was doing to my belt, he did, too.

I’m sorry. Not only his hand, all of Thorolf moved away. The, uh, the onion… I shouldn’t have.

I laughed. He looked so guilty. I ate mine, too. We’re even.

Thorolf exhaled, covering his mouth with his hand, relief in his eyes. Too much relief. Did he kiss me first because… As if lightning struck me. Are you doing this because you think you have to?

He flinched as if I’d hit him. I am not!

My mother… or Lady Freya… they did not tell you to…?

"Magni!"

I exhaled slowly, dizzy. I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just that…

He waited, allowed me to gather words and then they all escaped at once.

I’m not free either. Not anymore. If your fate depends on my mother’s whim, so does mine. I don’t think I know how to live without you. I don’t remember, I said, bewildered, because it was true. I have always disappointed people, because I wasn’t Thor. He’s the real God, I’m only his son. I am just me. We came here at night, and everyone we spoke with was either human, or Freya, or, or you. I am a jötunn, like the rest, but they don’t want me here, like I’m not their kin. They only see the son of Thor the Slayer. I stood up, kept him from doing the same. What do you see?

Thorolf’s eyes travelled from my face to my chest, my belly, then I blushed, hoping he couldn’t see through the breeches and the tunic. Not until he wanted to see. I hoped he would. He examined my boots, my belt, extended his hand. I helped him stand. Our noses were almost touching, our eyes met again, and we held each other with only our gazes.

They say jötnar are ice giants, Thorolf slowly said. I see a fire giant. You’re made of heat, power, strength. I could let my guard down with you. I love you. His eyes opened wide. He was as shocked as I was. We were real. I haven’t felt this way for… ever. I’m sorry, Your Grace, I didn’t want to…

I told you not to call me that.

You even sound like this… fire-wolf. Like there’s this growl. You could kill me with two fingers, I know that, and I know you won’t, but I wouldn’t resist. Yes. I’m sorry, but I love you. I don’t know what to do…

I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close enough to inhale his scent. Thorolf was nearly as tall as me, and I could tell he was strong, although for some reason we were still wearing clothes. Clothes should be banned.

Safe, he whispered, you make me feel safe.

I held him closer again. There must have been a bit of smoke in my eyes. I’m not very good with words, I murmured. I know beauty, though. You are perfect, you are art… bronze… ruby… mahogany… you confuse me. Why are you here? Why do I feel this? Why are you wearing clothes? I can’t tell you how you make me feel until I find out for myself. I let go of Thorolf now, because I couldn’t watch him and hold him at once, which was unjust.

Something flickered in his eyes. Thorolf stepped away, pointedly looked down, undid his belt. Very slowly. He let it slip on the floor, his tunic loose now, and when nothing more happened my confused gaze met his challenging one. More, I croaked, immediately losing, although also winning by not ripping his clothes into pieces.

It’s hard.

I couldn’t not glance down.

To take off a tunic, Thorolf continued in a completely neutral voice. I always get lost in the sleeves, my head gets stuck… I’m quite clumsy. You will have to help me. I was about to point out he had to bend, that he was tall, but he knew that himself and didn’t even try to help me and I understood something and now that I smelled his sweat hot iron was no longer my favourite scent in the Nine.

Thorolf didn’t react at all when I stepped closer and lifted his tunic a bit, slipped my hands underneath. I bit back a groan. His skin was so smooth, nearly glowing under my fingers. He offered no resistance when I pulled him towards me just enough so that it wouldn’t be quite enough. Our foreheads touched, so did our noses, and we stared into each other’s eyes. The answer to my unvoiced question – whether ‘hard’ meant me or him – was ‘both’. I could tell through two pairs of breeches. I didn’t want quick relief, though, I wanted to learn him and I was always a slow learner and maybe I could teach him something, too.

He blinked first, and whether those were the rules or not, I decided I won the first round. The second was touching his lips with the tip of my tongue. Thorolf clearly didn’t know there was a second round, his hands squeezed between our waists as he battled my belt, he was clumsy, couldn’t get to the clasp, he was especially clumsy a few inches below my belt, making me groan, he was driving me insane and we were still completely dressed, I broke my belt a bit but now it was off, and so was his tunic and mine which I didn’t like anyway, even before it ripped from top to bottom.

Panting as if I’d emerged from underwater, I clasped my wrist with my other hand, cuffing myself behind my back. I had to be