“Then bound they on Thor | the bridal veil,
And next the mighty | Brisings’ necklace.
Keys around him | let they rattle,
And down to his knees | hung woman’s dress;
With gems full broad | upon his breast,
And a pretty cap | to crown his head.”
—The Lay of Thrym
Thor’s mood didn’t improve much over the next six days. The clouds followed us through the fields as the eight of us rode to the border of Jotunheim, into the woods and out again, and up the rock path that led into the endless snowy mountains. While Loki was enjoying herself to the fullest, I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for my brother. He was just so… miserable.
We made camp under an outcropping of stone on the sixth night, expecting to reach Thrym’s keep the next day. We built a sizable fire, leashed the horses to a hook Thor had ground into the mountainside, and settled in for the night.
When I woke the next morning, Loki was curled around me. We weren’t the only ones sharing a bedroll for warmth, but likely the only ones enjoying it.
“Good morning,” she whispered, blessing me with soft, slow kisses. Her hands roamed under the furs, tracing my curves.
I shivered under her touch. “Loki! Not with everyone else here.”
“No one will know.” She nipped at my bottom lip.
I looked up. Thor was sitting next to the fire, his eyes downcast, but definitely looking in our direction.
Loki followed my stare and laughed. And, presumably just for Thor’s benefit, she gave me another long, passionate kiss before crawling out of the bedroll.
The camp woke up slowly, dragging themselves from the warmth of their beds to the fireside. Hard seed bread was broken and passed around, and salted meats were warmed on the stones close to the flame. There was an undercurrent of excitement in the riding party, but Thor was gloomier than before.
“Thor, you need to eat something.” I was busy rummaging through my pack for a few modest accessories, like one of the headscarves some of the city folk wore. I wrapped it around my head, but my hair refused to be contained.
Loki helped twist it into a more manageable shape as I secured the entire thing. Thor still hadn’t said anything.
“You’re going to make a very sad bride if you don’t learn to smile a little,” Loki teased.
The frown sunk deeper.
With a sigh, Loki dug into my travel pack and brought out a tiny container of kohl, lip paint, and a shining metal mirror. “This is the problem with the men in Asgard,” she whispered to me. “Brave enough to fight dragons but take away their raging masculinity, and it scares them to their core.”
She rounded the fire and sat next to Thor, taking his face in her hand and yanking it to the side. “You listen to me. If you want Mjolnir back, you’re going to need to play the part. We’re going to make you beautiful, you’re going to dazzle Thrym, and then you’re going to kill him. Doesn’t that sound like fun? It’s all just one big game.”
“I really want to kill him,” Thor mumbled just loud enough to be heard.
“And you will. It will be brutal and violent and bloody. The manliest thing you’ve ever done. Now, eyes shut.”
“If you draw a nutsack on my face, I’ll throw you down the mountain.”
Loki gave him a pat on the cheek. “No funny business, I promise. But only this once.”
She used a steady hand to apply the kohl, tracing the applicator along the curve of Thor’s eyelids. She smudged it in the right places, creating a look fierce enough for Freya herself. Then she used her finger to apply the red paint to Thor’s thin lips. She even shaved the stubble from his face with the edge of a blade, talking all the while about the burly things Thor could do when he got his hammer back.
Decapitating Jotnar, for a start.
◦ ● ◦
It wasn’t long before Thrym’s keep appeared on the horizon. We were still out of earshot of the walls when Loki called for the riding party to halt. “I know everyone’s been having a great time these last few nights, snickering about argr men while you thought we weren’t listening, but this is where it ends. As far as you’re concerned, the woman before you is the goddess Freya, and we are her handmaids.” She gestured to the two of us. “If you make the mistake of addressing any of us by our true names, your death will be my deepest pleasure. Understood?”
The soldiers nodded in agreement, their faces solemn. Loki turned to Thor. “You understand your part, yes?”
Thor groaned, exasperated. They’d stuffed him into a regal sky-blue gown, something worthy of a goddess’ wedding. He spoke through the thick lace veil over his face. “I’m aware. No speaking or touching or doing anything that draws attention to me.”
“Exactly.” Loki turned her horse around and started up to the icy gates of Thrym’s keep.
I fell in beside her. “Here goes nothing.”
“This may just be the greatest day of my life.” She grinned and reached out to squeeze my hand. “Very validating.”
The keep loomed over us, sheets of ice coating the high stone walls. It looked like a proper place to freeze to death. On either side of the gates stood a lookout, where the guards were yelling down into the keep. As we approached, the gate swung open. Behind it stood Thrym, arms open and a broad smile on his face. He was nearly two heads taller than Loki, with skin just as pale wrapped around an enormous broad frame. An icy blue sheen ran just under the surface of his skin. He was dressed for a banquet, his royal blue tunic embroidered with gold. A scar ran across his cheek, but underneath, he looked like someone had just made all his dreams come true.
The captain of the riding party stepped down from his horse and addressed the keep’s master. “It’s our honour to present Freya, Goddess of War and Love, blessed ally of the Aesir, descendant of the Vanir, rightful overseer of half of Midgard’s worthy dead, most beautiful woman in all the realms. Your bride.” The captain gestured towards Thor, who sat sulking on his horse, the thick veil obscuring his face.
Thrym scratched his beard. “This is Freya? Everyone talks about how strong and beautiful she is, but no one has ever mentioned how...large she is.”
My breath caught in my throat. Everything in me itched to take control of the situation, but I fought it back. One wrong move might reveal the entire plan.
Loki pulled her horse up beside the captain, interrupting before he could continue. “Mighty Thrym,” she spoke coyly, surely stroking his ego. “The tales of Freya could never encompass her true beauty. We’ve kept it a bit of a secret, but there may be a tiny touch of Jotun blood in her veins. I trust that won’t be a problem for someone as esteemed as yourself.”
Thrym straightened his back, standing proudly. “Of course not! I had no idea. She’s practically family already!” He waved us in, stepping out of the way. “Come in! You’re going to love it here! We’ve prepared a feast bigger than anything you’ve ever seen. Join us inside when you’re ready!” Thrym stomped off, a swagger in his step.
Astonishing. It baffled me how someone could believe what Loki was saying, despite the evidence to the contrary sitting right in front of their nose.
The stable boys came forward and helped the riding party with their horses. Loki accepted the hand of a lanky young man who helped her step down from her horse. She blushed and dropped to the ground, as demure as could be.
I slid down of my own accord, jealousy brewing in my stomach. Loki caught my eye and skipped to my side.
“You’re playing the part awfully well, aren’t you?” I pouted.
She took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “What is life but a series of parts to play? My love for the stable boy pales in comparison to my love for you, darling. But yes—”
Thor leapt off the back of his horse and landed with a ground-shaking thud. For just a moment, his wedding gown flew up, exposing his thick, manly legs.
Loki whipped around and marched toward him. She jabbed him in the chest with her finger, her snarling face an inch from his. “Behave yourself!” She drove her fingernail deeper into him. “Or do you want us all to be ripped to shreds by Thrym’s guards? Act like a lady for once in your life!”
Loki turned on her heel and marched off, taking me by the arm as she passed and dragging me toward the keep.
◦ ● ◦
Before long, we were all seated in Thrym’s stone dining hall. The Jotnar had done their best to make it seem cozy, setting large fires in the hearths and hanging excessive decoration along the walls. Shining gold platters and polished drinking horns, everything glimmering. The room was warmer than outside, but the cold still found its way in. Icicles hung from the cracks in the stone, dripping from the ceiling.
Thrym sat at the head of the table. He’d insisted that his bride sit next to him. Loki sat between Thor and me. The rest of the riding party followed down the length of the table. Across from them were a line of Jotnar that Thrym had named and I hadn’t bothered to remember. His sister was next to him, overdressed and sour looking. With the exception of one, every one of them was larger than us, and each had an outfit that was accented with a weapon on their hips.
The woman directly across the table was smiling at me, her black hair wound in a thick braid over her shoulder. But the smile wasn’t warm, and neither was the axe hooked to her hip.
“Honoured guests, I hope you’ll make yourselves at home here. We have everything you could possibly need, so just ask.” Thrym clapped his hands, and several of the staff came into the hall carrying platters of food. They laid out roast duck, pig, and salmon. A heaping platter was set at the head of the table, heaped with roasted cuts of an entire ox. Casks of mead were placed along the table, and each of their cups were filled to the brim.
Thrym was staring at Thor, waiting for his bride to speak. I cleared my throat. “I’m afraid Freya’s barely said a word for days. She’s been so eager to finally meet you that she could hardly bear it. But her voice should return in no time.” I held up my drinking horn. “To you, Thrym, and your generosity. This meal is—”
My words were drowned out by the deafening screech of Thor dragging the platter of ox meat across the bronze table, stopping only when it was safely in front of him. It took all my willpower not to cover my ears with my hands. He ate from it voraciously, handfuls of greasy flesh disappearing under his veil.
Loki set her hand on my thigh and gave a frustrated squeeze.
To say that Thrym seemed put off was an understatement. I half expected him to recoil right out of his chair. “Freya...what an appetite! I’ve never seen a lady eat with such enthusiasm...”
Thor reached across the table with his grease-slick hands and snatched up three salmon, which he tossed on top of the rest of his food. They slapped onto the platter, sliding against the pile of meat. He reached for another platter, but Loki moved it away from him. I couldn’t be sure, but I was certain Thor growled at her.
Loki turned to Thrym. “Freya was so excited to hear the news of your proposal that she hasn’t eaten a single bite for eight days and eight nights. I can’t say what a relief it is that her appetite has returned. It must be because she’s finally in your company.”
Thrym nodded, his gaze softening as he looked on his bride. “I know the feeling too well. I’ve spent my whole life waiting for you. Eat as much as you like, my beautiful goddess. Anything you need is yours.”
Thor grunted and reached for another platter. He dumped it onto his own, stealing an entire platter of pastries. Good thing I’d lost my appetite since he’d already taken a bite out of everything in reach.
Thrym’s sister rolled her eyes.
The group ate quietly, everyone watching Thor from the corner of their eyes as he demolished plate after plate. It was up to Loki and me to keep up conversation with Thrym, chatting about the weather and the state of life in Asgard. By the time the table had been cleared, Thor had inhaled eight salmon, the entire ox, all the pastries, and three casks of mead.
I pulled a handkerchief from inside my dress and passed it under the table to Loki, who slid it to Thor. He grunted again and the fabric disappeared under the veil. He wiped the residue from his mouth and tossed the dirty fabric onto the table unceremoniously.
Yggdrasil shade us. The only thing working in our favour was the fact that every Jotnar at the table was too uncomfortable to look at ‘Freya’ too closely.
“Mighty Thrym,” Loki leaned forward, as charming as she could be, “when can we count on the return of Mjolnir to the people of Asgard?”
Thrym chuckled. “Soon. First, I want to claim a kiss from my beautiful bride!” He reached out to pull the veil aside, but quickly jumped back. “Freya! You have eyes like a wild beast!”
Loki’s hand was on Thor’s bicep, trying to keep him from leaping out of his seat.
“You’ll have to excuse Freya,” I said quickly. “She’s been so excited to be married that she hasn’t slept since she found out. She swore she wouldn’t go to any bed until she could go to bed with you. Isn’t that right?”
At the other end of the table, one of the riding party choked on their drink.
Loki nodded. “She’s been exhausted. Probably why she caught a chill so easily. Stubborn thing, but surely you appreciate her commitment.”
Thrym relaxed into his chair. “I’ve never met a woman so eager to be bedded before. I’ll be sure not to disappoint.” He winked at his bride, and what little I’d eaten curdled in my stomach.
“This is all well and good,” Thrym’s sister—Inara? Ira? We were going to kill them, it didn’t matter—said. “But no one’s said anything about the bride gift. You’ve asked for your hammer, and now I want to know what you’re going to give us for housing Thrym’s voracious new wife.”
“Sister, we can figure these things out later.” Thrym put his hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you fetch the hammer so Freya and I can finally be married?”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t think so. The Aesir have enough wealth that they can spare some for us. Freya’s going to cost us her weight in gold just to keep her fed, not to mention two handmaids...as if anyone could need that much help getting into a dress.”
Loki eyed the sister over the rim of her drinking horn. “We’ve been instructed to pay a sizable amount for Freya’s care. You’ll have it once Mjolnir is returned to the captain.”
“You see?” Thrym waved a hand in Loki’s direction. “All things in time. Fetch the hammer, sister.”
She rose from the table in a huff and stormed out of the room.
Loki leaned into me, her lips beside my ear. “Be ready. This is where things get fun.”
I counted the Jotnar along the table. Thrym and his sister and seven others. Plus the rest of the keep, if they decided to intervene, though we could never be sure. I put my mind to gathering energy.
The sister returned in short order and set Mjolnir down at the head of the table with a thud.
“If that settles it, we can begin with the ceremony.” Thrym rose from the table, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
A deep chuckle rose from the veiled bride. It sent a shiver down my spine as it built to a cackle. Thor stood and reached out for Mjolnir. With the hammer in hand, he ripped the veil from his head and turned on Thrym.
“What’s this?” Thrym cried out. “You aren’t Freya!”
Loki rolled her eyes. “Well obviously not.” She pulled the curved dagger from her belt and vaulted over the table, kicking Thrym’s sister to the ground.
I spat a string of runes under my breath, summoning a burst of wildfire and tossing it into the face of the woman across from me. She screamed and batted at her hair as I scrambled over the table. I snatched up a platter and smashed it into her face for good measure.
The room shook. Thor had thrown Mjolnir into Thrym, driving him across the room and into the wall. Thor caught the hammer as it rushed back to him, his scream of rage rising above all the clamour. He hurled himself at Thrym, hammer raised above his head—
Don’t get distracted.
My mark had fallen to the floor, using her own shirt to put out the wildfire. I leapt down from the table and kicked her in the jaw with all my strength. She stopped moving.
Loki climbed to her feet next to me. The sister’s body was a mess, gruesome bone and muscle peeking out from the slash across her throat. Red was splattered across Loki’s cheek and down her lips, blood dripping from the dagger in her grip. “Next.”
A pair of Thrym’s soldiers had cornered one of ours. Loki snared one from behind and twisted him around. With a nod, she tossed him at me, and the Jotun fell into my grip just as the current of electricity shot from my hands. He seized, the smell of charred flesh filling the air. His eyes rolled back into his head, and I let him go. He continued to writhe on the floor as I turned my attention to the next Jotun in line.
“Sig!”
I whipped around. A woman in a flour-covered apron was brandishing an iron pan and about to knock me out cold. I ducked as she swung and backed away from her, arms out. “You don’t need to do this. Stay out of the way, and everything will be fine.”
She screamed, shaking the pan but making no move towards me.
“Would you like to be the master of this keep?”
She blinked.
“Round up the rest of your people and keep them safe, and I’ll give it to you.”
“Liar!” She swung the pan in my direction, missing by miles.
Loki slid up behind her and set the edge of her blade against the woman’s throat. “That girl is my world, so test me, darling. Please do.”
She dropped the pan. Its clatter was loud enough to rise over the screaming and the metallic ring of weaponry. “I’ll go,” she said, her hands raised in the air.
Loki ruffled her hair and pushed her off. “That’s a good woman.” We didn’t bother to watch her leave.
Our soldiers seemed to have things under control. There was only one Jotun left standing. Thor was still in the corner, toying with Thrym. He had the poor man pressed up against the wall by his throat and was breaking his fingers one by one.
“Did you just give this place to a scullery maid?” Loki asked, slipping an arm around my waist.
“I might have.” A childish grin slipped out. “Father will be thrilled.”
The doors burst open, a rush of cold air pouring in from outside, along with another dozen of Thrym’s people.
“Back to work, I suppose.” Loki shrugged.
“Wait. I want to try something.” I pulled up my skirts and slid the dagger out from the sheath strapped around my thigh.
Loki threw me a smile and bounded back into the action. I followed behind and was quickly knocked on my back by a fist to the face.
“Ymir’s asshole!” Pain shot through my skull, and my teeth jarred. The Jotun stood just above me, so I whipped up a leg and kicked him between the thighs. He squealed and dropped like a stone, and I stabbed the dagger into his throat. The blood sprayed hot across my face. He choked, the sound wet and bubbling, then collapsed into the growing puddle of red.
A hand reached down to take mine, and the captain of the riding party hoisted me up. He turned his back to me at once and elbowed a Jotun in the face.
One after the other, the Jotnar fell. As we stood there, trying to catch our breath, I realized that some of the noise of battle was still ringing. Specifically, a hammer on stone. Thor was still in the corner with what used to be Thrym.
“Do. Not. Touch. Me.” He repeated it over and over, bringing the hammer down again after each word, coating the walls and floor with blood and shattered bone.
The whole riding party, even those who had been wounded, watched Thor’s descent into madness. There was nothing left to the body, and yet Thor kept hitting. Blood was soaked through his wedding gown and ran down his face in streaks.
Loki wrenched her blade from the fresh corpse of a young man and wiped a hand across her face, smearing more red across her cheek. “Yggdrasil above, what is he doing? Thor!”
When he didn’t respond, she picked up a thick femur from the dining table and tossed it. It struck Thor in the back of the head. He whipped around, his eyes as crazed as any berserker, looking for the enemy.
“Brother! Come back to us. It’s all over.” I held my hands out, ready to summon a shield if he ran at us. A berserker could kill 20 men in a rage without blinking an eye, and that wasn’t accounting for the fact that this was Thor.
His whole body shook with each breath. He threw his hammer down one last time, spraying the room with entrails and cracking the stone. “None of you say a word about this to anyone. Do you understand me?” he roared.
Loki tossed her hair back and grinned. “Well, that’s unlikely.”