“With the most likely candidate eliminated, Thor forced Loki to help him in his search for Mjolnir.”
—Asgard Historical Record, Volume 15
Racing across the realms on the back of a horse had always been one of the small joys in life. Wind whipped through my hair, the drum beat of hooves sounding in my ears as our horses bolted toward the horizon. My heart thudded in my chest, only the restraint of common sense keeping me from letting go of the reins, leaning back, and pretending I could fly.
Thor was far enough ahead of us that our horses struggled to keep up. His mount was a Jotun breed, bigger and stronger, built to hold heavier bodies. The perfect thing for a god built like a stone house. As he rode, the sky clouded over, giving me a distinct impression of his mood.
Loki was grinning from ear to ear, bent over the neck of his horse as if that were enough to will it to run faster. His hair whipped behind him, snapping like flame, his travelling cloak billowing out over the animal’s flank. In that moment, I was very aware of just how handsome he was.
He turned his head to me, catching my stare. The eager rush of excitement on his face shifted into something coy, his eyes smouldering. He bit his bottom lip. A shudder ran through me, and I turned my eyes back to the path ahead, willing my body to quiet itself.
The moment we crossed the shallow stream into the fields of Fólkvangr, the enormous stone fortress Sessrúmnir came into view over the far ridge. It had none of the glittering gold of Asgard, and its stone ramparts were dotted with soldiers. Where Odin had built himself a paradise, Freya had made a stronghold.
A horn blew, announcing our approach.
We slowed the horses just before the doors and hopped down. A pair of red-and-gold armoured guards stepped forward as if to ask us what business we had but took a step back when they caught sight of Thor. One could call it cowardice, sure, but it was more likely a healthy respect for the god who could snap your neck with his little finger.
Instead, the guards pushed open the looming iron doors and let us into the main hall. Freya was already waiting inside the doors, hands on her hips, dressed head to toe in leather and chainmail. Even with all that, she still wore Brísingamen, the necklace dripping amber down her throat. “What are you doing here?”
Loki pouted. “Aren’t you happy to see us?”
“I’d rather have my monthly bleeding than let you in.”
“Oh, I understand,” Loki said, hand on his chest with exaggerated empathy. “My monthly bleeding usually comes as a beating from Thor, but it’s never well-timed or comfortable.”
Freya’s teeth ground together, her hands clenched into fists. “What. Do you want?”
“We need your falcon cloak,” Thor said.
That drew a dry laugh from her. “As if I would give something so precious to you. You don’t have the seidr to use it, and I’m hardly going to hand it over to this Silvertongue.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I could do it.”
“No, you couldn’t. I let you try it once, and you couldn’t get off the ground.”
“That was decades ago. I must be better at it now.”
“I very much doubt that.”
“Freya.” Thor stepped forward, palms out, a desperate look on his face. “Please. Give Loki the cloak. Mjolnir is gone.”
She groaned. “You lost it already?”
“I didn’t lose it!” Thor scratched his head. “I just can’t find it.”
Freya dragged her hand down her face, exasperated. “You have rocks between your ears, I swear it. The Dwarves make you an unstoppable weapon, and you just let someone walk away with it.” She turned around and strode down the hall. “Well, come on!”
We hurried into step behind her, past the red and gold banners that lined the stone walls. As we neared the end of the hallway, the ringing of steel and the clamour of soldiers filled the air. The doorway opened up into an expansive courtyard where more than two hundred soldiers were sparring against each other. As they fought, their weapons glanced off bodies without so much as a scratch, not a drop of blood to be seen. An effect of Freya’s seidr, no doubt.
Freya took us to her fur-covered, sun-bleached wooden throne. She sat down, crossed her legs, and looked at us. There was nowhere to sit, so we stood.
Loki glanced around. “Are you going to give us the cloak, or should we dance for you instead?”
Freya beckoned the help with a crooked finger. A young woman approached the throne. “Bring the falcon cloak.”
The woman nodded and left, staying close to the walls of the courtyard and disappearing into the fortress.
Freya leaned forward. “You’ll return it to me in the same condition. If there’s a single feather missing, if it’s dirty, if it’s disenchanted, if it so much as smells like you, I will have you killed. I won’t even bother to soil my own hands doing it. You’ll just be dead.”
Loki laughed. “Well, I hadn’t thought to do anything to it, but now that you bring it up…” He shrugged.
The woman appeared again, a heavy brown feather cloak draped across her arms. She stopped next to Freya and waited for a command. Freya waved a hand toward Loki, who graciously took the cloak from the woman. He ran his hand along the outside, then pressed it to his face, staring Freya in the eyes. “So soft.”
Freya stood, her face red and her teeth bared. I stepped between them, hands up. “Just tell him how to use it.”
She glared past me. “Put it around your shoulders, summon energy, and get the fuck out of my keep.”
I turned and pushed Loki back a few paces. The conniving look on his face normally meant trouble, and that was the last thing any of us needed. I took the cloak from him and stood on my toes to wrap it around his neck. It came down to his ankles, concealing almost his entire body. “You’re going to get us in trouble, Loki.”
He brought his gaze back to me, a warm smile on his scarred lips. “It’s fine. Don’t miss me too much.”
I tightened the collar around his neck and tilted my head to kiss him. “I won’t.”
His fingers found the back of my neck, holding me there for another kiss, then he touched his nose to mine. “Always.”
I backed away, giving him room to shift. The change was no different than normal, a ripple in the air so bright it hurt to look, then a pop. A large falcon stood on the stone. It hopped a couple of times, and then flew off, a single feather floating down from the sky. I held my palm out to catch it and looked up to see Freya’s exasperated groan.
Knowing that there was no shortcut to scouring the realms for a hammer, Freya had the kitchen bring out food. A small table was set out for us to eat at. Thor barely touched a thing, but I was famished. Freya ignored us for a while, handing out orders to captains and staff or reading through a stack of letters, but eventually she came and sat across from me.
“Thor.” She looked up at him. He’d been pacing across the hall for a while now, chin down and staring at the ground. “You’re going to stomp a trench in my floor. Sit down and eat.”
Thor mumbled something under his breath and came to the table. “How long is he going to be?”
“As long as it takes. This is what you get for being so careless.” Freya unhooked the chainmail over her chest and pulled it off, revealing the muscled curves of her arms. “As much as it pains me to say it, you may as well get comfortable.”
I pulled a piece of bread off and handed it to Thor. “Please eat.”
He took it and stared at it for a moment, then put it down. “I can’t eat. My stomach is bubbling, and I can’t stand it.”
I looked at Freya. “He’s nervous. I think this is a first.”
Thor huffed. “I’m not nervous. I just don’t like this.” His face screwed up, and a vein in his forehead bulged out. He stood up suddenly. “No. I can’t. I’m going outside to wait.” And he did.
“He really didn’t get any portion of the brains in your family.” Freya took a long drink, then set her horn down. “Though neither did you, it seems.”
My eyes rolled involuntarily. “How long were you holding that in for?”
“A while.” She cut a large piece of smoked boar in half and took her share, pushing the platter toward me. “You know exactly how I feel about Loki. You’ve always known.”
“Yes, and I’ve always known you’re a woman of extremes. Extremely beautiful, extremely bloodthirsty, extremely hateful, whenever it suits you. Blessed are those on your good side and Yggdrasil shade the rest of us. Too judgemental to understand anything.”
“At least I know my convictions. I know who my enemies are, I know what I want, and I know what’s best for seidr. Do you have any idea what you want, other than a title? Which apparently you’ll go to any lengths to get.”
“When did you get so bitter?” I snatched up another wedge of cheese. “Were you always like this, or was it only the last 50 years?”
A crease formed in Freya’s forehead. “I’ve fought for everything I have. Don’t tell me what I am.”
I gestured in confusion. “You’d think that would make us allies, wouldn’t you? That we both feel like we fought tooth and nail. So why doesn’t it?”
“You made your choice.”
“You had years to help me before Loki came around, and you didn’t. We’re not friends, we’ve never been friends. You’re too rigid for that.”
Freya chewed slowly. “I know you don’t believe me, but you need to end this thing with Loki before you figure out just how bad he is.”
“Listen, if we don’t change the subject, I’m going to shove that attitude down your throat so far even your little army won’t be able to find it.”
Thankfully, the doors burst open before I had any need to prove myself capable of such a thing. Thor came running in just as a falcon swooped down into the courtyard. The air shimmered as it descended, and Loki landed in a crouch, the cloak billowing out around him. He stood, a grin plastered across his face.
He waited a moment, brushing down the feathers. “No? No one’s going to comment on the entrance? Alright, your loss.”
Thor was on him in an instant. “Did you find it? You must have found it.”
“I’m not going to tell you anything if you keep shaking me. Stop.”
Thor backed away, hands up. “You don’t have it.”
“No.” Loki went to the table and picked at the scraps of lunch. “It’s in Jotunheim.”
“Jotunheim.” Freya covered her face with her palms. “You let that hammer fall into the hands of the exact people you were going to use it against. I can’t believe you’ve survived this long with that little in your head.”
I went to Loki and helped him take the cloak off. “How did it get there?”
Loki planted a kiss on my forehead. “That’s still a bit of a mystery, but Thrym—the Jotun who took it—knew exactly who I was, even as a falcon. He called me down, we talked, and he admitted to hiding it.”
“Where?”
“He wouldn’t say. He wants to make a trade. We get the hammer, and he takes Freya as his wife.” Loki sat down on the end of the table, looking right at her. “Really, I don’t understand everyone’s obsession with you. You’re on the top of everyone’s list, but clearly no one has met you.”
Freya’s face turned scarlet. She jumped up from the table and got as close to him as she dared, snarling up at him. “Insult me again.”
The sneer on Loki’s face was malevolent. “How many nights in Dwarven beds did that necklace cost you?” He reached out and flicked one of the amber jewels. “Four, wasn’t it? That’s a high price for something so tacky; I’d have haggled.”
She cried out, enraged, and shoved Loki. He stumbled back, laughing, and that only fuelled her anger.
I moved to get between them, but Thor grabbed my arm. I shot him a look.
Thor shook his head. “Let them work it out.”
Freya’s hand went to the necklace. “You think I care what you think of me? That the beds I’ve been in amount to anything tallied next to yours?” She tore on the chain, and Brísingamen came free from her neck, the steel links snapping like glass. “If I’m a whore, what are you?” She swung at him.
Loki jumped out of the way just in time. “Darling, you’re awfully riled up for someone who doesn’t care!”
She backed him up into the table and slammed her open palm into Loki’s face, the amber and metal cutting his skin. A line of red appeared on his cheek, and he grinned as the pain bit into him.
“That’s enough.” Thor stepped towards Freya. He grabbed the back of her armour and a chorus of metal rang out around us. The training had stopped, and her army had turned their blades on us.
“It’s only enough when he’s dead.” Freya’s free hand went to the knife on her belt.
Without a second thought, I swung at her.
Freya turned her head to me, more annoyed than hurt. “Are you serious? Where did you learn to punch? Your—”
Then Loki disappeared from under her. She fell onto the table, barely saving herself from smashing her face into the wood.
Something leapt from the surface, scurried across the stone, and clambered up the outside of my cloak. A mouse. I picked it up, caught a glimpse of its emerald eyes, and sat it on my shoulder.
“Where is he?” Freya whipped around, blade out. “Come out, you filthy fucking rat.”
“Close,” I said, pointing to my tiny companion. “Not quite.”
She made a move, but Thor stepped in front of her, grabbing her arm. She screamed in frustration, but there was no fighting it. Thor was Thor. He held her in place. “This isn’t the time.”
Several of her army had gotten close enough to strike Thor, but none had tried. He looked at them. “Is this a fight you really want to pick?”
They looked at each other, considering their options, then backed away.
The mouse nudged my face with its nose and ran to the edge of my shoulder, squeaking. I carefully set it down on the ground and gave it space. A moment later, Loki was back, sitting cross-legged on the ground, wiping the blood from his face.
“If you’re done failing to kill me, I think we have more pressing matters at hand.” Loki winced as his finger caught on an open gash.
“I won’t be sold to a filthy Jotun for a hammer! Traded like a fucking horse every time some god owes something!” Freya screamed, throwing her knife wildly toward Loki and missing by a wide margin. “Asgard can burn for all I care!”
Thor pushed Freya back, holding her shoulders as if her stillness would translate into calm. “I’m getting Mjolnir back, whether you help me or not. And if you don’t, then I don’t much care where you end up.” He let her go and walked away, towards the entrance to the hall.
Loki gave Freya one last sneer, got up, and followed Thor out.
Freya’s eyes met mine, and there was something desperate there. “I won’t do it. Sigyn, they can’t just sell me off.”
“They won’t. I’m not going to let that happen.” I didn’t do anything as foolish as reach out. I just…stroked her ego. “You’re not going to let it happen. You’re the Goddess of War. No one tells you what to do.”
She huffed and squared her shoulders, drawing a long breath. She pulled the chainmail from the back of her chair, fastened it back over her chest, and walked past me. “No. They do not. Now someone get me my horse. I’ve got places to be.”