“The trouble with having prophecies is that it colours everything. There’s not a Jotun in the realms that can step inside Asgard without the assumption that they’re here to ransack the place.”
—Laufey - Asgard Historical Record, Volume 2
A summons arrived for us the next evening, strapped to the leg of one of Odin’s ravens, and with it was a threat. Come to Valhalla or else.
What awaited us was a feast. An excess of the finest foods laid out as far as the eye could see, despite it not being an official feast day. If anyone else thought it was odd, they weren’t about to complain.
At the head table, next to Odin, was an unfamiliar Jotun. She towered over him even while she was sitting. Hel, she even made Thor seem small. Her face was severe, and she was so pale, she was nearly translucent, her skin covered in long, swirling tattoos. The blue ink of the tattoos disappeared under her leather armour, up the length of her arms, and all the way to the tip of her chin.
Never in my life would I want that woman’s scorn set on me.
There were two empty chairs at the far end of the table, so we took them. No one had bothered to put up seats for the boys, however. Narvi crawled up on Loki’s knee, and Váli, too proud for something like that, stood at the end and stole food off my plate. It was a long, uncomfortable meal.
After the meal, Odin stood. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that we have a guest tonight. She is Skadi, daughter of Thjazi, the rightful heir of his keep and leader of her family in his stead. She has come—”
“I have come—” Skadi stood, stealing the room’s attention. She leaned against the table, her palms resting on its top. “—to seek retribution. One of your own came into my father’s keep, lured him to Asgard, and is responsible for his death.”
Odin cleared his throat. “Thjazi also kidnapped Idunn and kept her against her will, which was the reason that Asgard interfered in the first place.”
“Her presence at the keep was entirely in line with the bargain that Loki made with my father.” Skadi’s eyes travelled down the table towards us, and a chill ran down my spine.
Loki muttered something under his breath and looked away, entirely too focused on helping distract Narvi with food.
“Asgard took back its property and that is final.” Odin waved a hand.
Skadi slammed her hand on the table, shaking everything on it. “And none of you died for it. My father was killed deliberately and by your hands. If you won’t give me the recompense that I’m owed for his death, I’ll return to Jotunheim and rally every one of my people against your city. We’ll see how you stand up to that.”
Odin sighed. “There’s no need for a war.”
“No,” Skadi said, a grin splitting her face. “You wouldn’t want a war with us. Because one day, you’ll get one, and you know as well as everyone else that one of those wars will end you. So. What will you give me?”
The room was deathly silent. Every last einherjar had stopped eating, every Valkyrie was standing still to watch. One Jotun against the Allfather.
Odin took a drink, biding his time. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “As our messenger would have told you, we were able to recover your father’s body after his death. He remained more or less...intact. He’s been preserved with seidr by the infirmary as requested, and now that you’ve come to claim him, we’ll provide him with a proper funeral pyre.”
Skadi pushed back the thick locks of hair on her head. They fell back down in a cascade of white, glinting with silver beads and sharp canine teeth. “Not even close to enough. What else?”
Tapping his fingers on the table, Odin continued. “To ensure his memory lives on for your kin, I’ll arrange for his eyes to become part of the night sky. Stars.” Odin waved a hand for a refill of his drink. “And if memory serves me, you lack a husband. You could remain the sole ruler of your keep, or we could help you to select someone suitable.”
Frigg looked up at Skadi. “Depending on who you choose, your marriage would bestow a place of status in Asgard. Perhaps even the title of goddess on you and any children that may come from your union.”
Her eyebrow raised. “Finally, something that sounds appealing.” She looked up and down the table. “Hmm. I’d insist on a woman, but your ladies are too brittle for my taste.” Her eyes stopped on Baldur. “But this one seems like he could gallop at a decent pace.”
“Unfortunately, Baldur is already spoken for.”
“I’ll have him or nothing.” Skadi crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at Odin like she might take his head off for the fun of it.
Frigg stood and put her hand on Skadi’s shoulder, something I would never have dared to do. “If you insist on a chance at having Baldur as a husband, we can find a more impartial way to choose. Our other eligible men will line up, and you can choose them by their feet alone. Surely, you’ll be able to pick Baldur out from the rest, since he’s by far the most beautiful.”
Skadi mulled it over, a look on her face that said she wasn’t taking it at all seriously. “Why not? It’s not every day you get to prove that the gods are fools.”
Odin started to sit down, but Skadi pushed back his seat with her foot.
“We’re not done. The death of my father has been a burden on my spirit. Immortalize my father, get me a husband, and make me laugh. Then I’ll consider this debt repaid.”
Odin scanned the room. “And how would we do that?”
Skadi sat down, kicking her boots up onto the table. She ripped the meat from a leg of boar, chewing slowly. “I already have something in mind. Bring me Loki Laufeyjarson, father-slayer and traitor to his people.”
A murmur rose in the hall. I looked at Loki. His face was grim as he kissed the top of Narvi’s head, then his eyes met mine. I held out my hands to take Narvi from him, but the boy clung to Loki’s tunic, whimpering.
“Come now,” Loki whispered, prying Narvi’s fingers away. I wrapped my arms around Narvi and dragged Váli closer to me.
Loki made his way around the table to stand in front of Skadi. Without a hint of guilt or weakness, he looked up at her.
“Make me laugh, fathur-morthingr.” Skadi took another bite, watching him with a sly grin on her lips.
Loki’s face tightened, his arms crossed over his chest. “There once was a skald and a beggar—”
“No.” Skadi threw the meaty femur at him. It bounced off his chest and clattered to the floor. “No jokes.”
He drew in a long breath, his fingers digging into his palms. “Then what do you want from me?”
She didn’t need to think it over. “Bring me a goat and a rope.”
The room waited a small eternity in silence as the rope and the goat were found and brought to the front.
“Now,” she commanded. “Tie his cock to the goat. I want to hear him scream.”
The hall burst into chaos. Some were calling out in encouragement, while others seemed to think she had gone too far.
“Perhaps we’ll attach the goat to your balls,” Loki snapped. “They must be as large as boulders to demand something like that.”
“They certainly out-measure yours, little traitor.” She stared down at him, as casually as if she had asked him for a horn of mead. “You wouldn’t want to start a war, would you?”
Odin glared down at Loki. “Do as she says.”
“Mama.” Narvi curled up against my chest, whimpering.
I hushed him. “Get down. We’re going to take a walk in the garden, alright?” I nudged Narvi to his feet and took his hand. I offered the other hand to Váli, but he refused, his face full of shame. He took off ahead of us, bursting out the doors before we were halfway there. I tried not to listen to the bartering and bickering behind me, to the eventual capitulation and defiant acceptance of what was coming.
Váli only stopped when we were well into the garden, where the noise of Valhalla became more of a hum. He dropped onto his bottom on the grass. I sat down next to him.
“Would you like to hear a story?” I pulled them both against me.
Narvi nodded, sniffing back tears. Váli was silent, staring out ahead.
“In the time before time, there were only two realms. On one side sat the flaming, volcanic realm of Muspelheim and on the other was the frozen wasteland of Niflheim.” I stroked their hair, speaking in a low, calm voice. “In the middle was Ginnungagap, the great void. One day, the ice and the flame drew together, and from it grew the largest of all giants, Ymir. But Ymir, he was a sleepy creature. While he slept, he started to sweat. The first Jotun was born from the sweat under his arms, one man and one woman. Your very oldest ancestors.”
A scream rose up from the hall behind us. It was drowned quickly with cacophonous laughter.
I hugged the boys as tightly as I could. “Ymir slept on and while he slept, the ancient cow Audhumla fed him with her milk. What Audhumla liked most of all was salt, and there was salt in the ice, so she began to lick and lick and three days later, she found a man inside. His name was Buri, and he was the grandfather of Odin...”
◦ ● ◦
Dusk had already come and gone when a hand came to rest on my shoulder. Loki sat down across from me, his eye purple and his lip split. His gaze went to the boys, who’d fallen asleep against me.
“It’s done,” he whispered.
“Good. Has she chosen a husband?”
“Njord.” He stared down at his lap as he picked the raw skin from his thumb. The corner of his lip turned up. “Freya’s not impressed with her new step-mother.”
I managed a smile as well. “She seems destined to have Jotun blood in her family.”
Loki didn’t reply. He just stared at the hall behind me.
“It’s time to go.” I scooped Narvi into my arms. “Can you—”
“I have him.” Loki hoisted Váli up, propping him against his chest. As I passed, he reached out for me, stopping me in my tracks. There was something odd in his eyes. Impatient. “Does any of this mean anything to you?”
“Why would it? You made penance to Skadi, not to me. I’m just as lonely as yesterday. Just as broken.” I turned from him and walked away.