This chapter is dedicated to FullmetalFairy for reading this chapter over for me. Tapadh Leat, thank you!
Pronunciation/Glossary
Formorian - race of Celtic giants
Puirt-à-beul - translation: mouth music. Usually fast paced, historically these songs accompanied dancers when instruments were not available, so the lyrics imitate the melody. (Poorsht AH bee-al)
Apples of Idunn - Idunn is the name of the goddess of youth who keeps the apples that give the gods their eternal youth.
Mímisbrunnr - the well in which Odin gave one of his eyes in return for knowledge (MEEm-is-broon-oor)
Yggdrasill - supposedly an ash tree, known also as the world tree, or the tree of life. It is sacred, as it is the tree around which exists the nine worlds. (ig-druh-sil)
Chapter 17
Nobody else was to be seen in the grounds of the gathering hall, and apart from birdsong and the occasional rustle of the breeze, it was quiet and tranquil in the land of the Aesir.
My fur bristled under my skin, both alert and wary about being on unknown territory, and brimming with the need to run through the lush meadow towards the forest where the musky smell of deer carried on the wind. Everything overwhelmed the senses here. The air was crisper, the colours more vibrant, and the call of the wild all the more harder to ignore. . .
“Focus on the feel of your skin,” Hati advised quietly, noting my sudden restlessness. “The way your joints move in this form, the way these little hairs tickle the back of your neck.”
My skin erupted in goosebumps as he brushed the rough pads of his fingers down the back of my neck where baby hairs had escaped the braids keeping my hair over one shoulder. He smirked at my reaction, smug. It worked though. His touch would always anchor me, and I had to resist the urge to arch into his touch like a pleased kitten.
“It’s the magic in the air here. You especially must be able to sense the raw energy that stems like tree roots beneath the earth.”
I nodded. I could sense it all right. It burrowed under my skin and into my marrow until I was sure my very bones vibrated with the presence of a primal, untameable power. My own magic fizzled inside, fighting to break free before curling tight back into itself out of sheer will from me.
Further ahead, Gná dismounted to allow Hófvarpnir to graze on grass by the shimmering loch, taking her shield and spear to climb the steps leading to the two towering gilded doors. They opened with a light touch of the goddess’ hand, groaning on hinges larger than my arm to reveal a hallway tall enough for Formorian to walk through.
It was echoingly empty. The floor was made of a reflective stone in swirling patterns of rainbow colour much like the bridge we’d crossed to get here from Midgard. Our steps obnoxiously loud as we walked along, the smooth stone cool against my bare feet. I craned my neck to look up to study the engraved, dark-wood rafters stretching overhead, depicting intricate knotted patterns and battle scenes.
Flags draped the high walls, and rich tapestries in deep greens and blues showed moments from stories my father had told me, captured in glittering thread. A few times, I swore the animals and gods moved across their tapestries, went from frowning to smiling, or sitting to standing, but I must have been wrong. . .
My hand slipped from Hati’s so I could get a closer look. He allowed a few steps of distance before I sensed him turn to watch me, shifting anxiously on his feet.
Awe and wonder filled me as I was certain the rabbit in white thread had definitely leaped to the other side of the woven image. I grinned and turned in a slow circle, eyes trying to catch every magnificent detail so I could describe it for my family when I returned home. No words would be able to do it justice but I would try.
“This is not a place to linger,” Hati called, hand outstretched for me.
“I’m coming,” I murmured, walking backwards even while I tried to decipher the meaning of a tapestry in which Freyja, I guessed by the two lynx at her feet, had her hand held up to what appeared to be a breath of air in golden thread that ebbed and glowed with real light. Something in my gut twisted as I stared at it, like I was looking at something I should remember but couldn’t. It wasn’t a scene from any story my father had ever told me.
Hati grabbed my hand, tearing me from the feeling that had settled over me in a chill with a firm yank to get me moving again. Golden eyes cast over me in concern, darting to the image I’d been entranced by then back at me.
The next set of doors we were led through were smaller, but still so large that I was sure they were made so giants could fit through. Walking through them was like entering yet another realm.
A rainbow streamed across the room, formed by sunlight fracturing on a strange cut ball of glass hanging high above. The sun warmed the side of my face as we made our way further in, large windows making the room bright and welcoming. Painted walls made it feel more like a garden than a room, every inch of space between the windows on the right covered in vibrant scenes of spring; green vines climbing around the frames with life-like flowers blooming all around.
On the left were scenes of a harvest at sunset in shades of yellow, brown and orange, the details caught with the smallest strokes of a brush so that it appeared the wheat truly was swaying in the wind, undulating and flowing like waves across the sea.
“My lady.” Hati stopped in the middle of the hall and bowed, though he was careful to make it clear it was out of respect and not submission.
Vali remained a step behind us, hunched as if that would stop the glowing goddess I now noticed sitting on a wooden throne from noticing him. She was flanked by another woman in a dress of rich blue and a golden band around her head, her eyes the same golden brown colour as the leaves that fall in autumn. Gná took her place on the other side of the seated goddess, her spear thudding against the ground as she rooted it in place, fingers curling tight around the wood.
Numb with the shock of finally facing the deity who was responsible for my existence, I was unable to emulate the curtsies Ingrid had taught me. I struggled to so much as find the will to look when I feared doing so would make everything I’d been through all too real. All too inevitable. I suddenly wished I’d taken Vali’s approach and chosen to linger behind.
“Your manners have improved greatly since our last encounter, Hati Hróðvitnisson, son of Fenrir.” Her voice was soft and melodic as she greeted my mate, but the warmth of kindness and perhaps even affection did not put me at ease.
Hati chuckled. “I would like to say I have grown and learned much since I last had the honour of being in your presence, My Lady. This time I would leave with you smiling and certain we are on the same side.”
I tried not to react as the two spear wielding women shared a smirk, the one with the golden band muffling a giggle behind her hand.
My nose scrunched.
Hati's rough-spoken charm was as beguiling as ever. The throned goddess herself cracked a smile, and her entire being glowed all the brighter, radiating warmth just as the sun outside did. It wouldn’t surprise me if Hati felt a measure of attraction towards the goddess; I myself couldn’t stop staring.
The light streaming through the massive stained windows caught tones of copper in her blonde hair, and reflected off golden skin, smooth and unblemished by time. Cerulean eyes were luminescent and sharp, with a depth of knowledge that was unnerving, and her dress too was like nothing I’d seen from home. It flowed like water, thin and draping, cinched tight at the waist by a golden belt with a loop where I knew a sword would hang. Because despite her beauty, the elegant way she sat, and the crown glittering in her hair, she was a warrior. Her arms were toned, fingers dainty but sure in the way they curled around the arms of her throne. She sat straight and ready to move, and I knew her two guards while muscled in their own rights, would fall long before their Alpha would in battle. Their Queen, I amended the thought.
This was Freyja, wife of Odin, daughter of the Vanir, seeress, witch, goddess of fertility and harvest, love and war; her titles were endless, her authority and power undeniable. It was she who chose first from those slain in battle before Odin could take his pick for Valhalla, and she who had seen the coming of Ragnarök. Magic flickered around her, though I wasn’t anyone but she and I could see the rippling, threadlike energy winding around her limbs.
Her smile widened when the polite conversation I’d missed in my study of her ended and her gaze fell on me. I stiffened under the weight of it. The expectation, brimming hope, surprise and even dread that all passed over her face as she looked me slowly up and down.
“Look how she has grown, Gná, Fulla.” She looked at her two handmaidens in turn. “Does she not look much like the she-wolf we trusted to carry her?”
Why did these gods seem loathe to address me directly?
“My mother would be pleased to hear you say so,” I said, not liking the comparison even though it did please me to hear her say it. No matter how I was brought into being, Laoghaire had carried me for nearly six long months, had birthed me, fed me from her breast, and raised me. She was my mother, as much as she was to any of my siblings.
Gná smirked over her shoulder, and Freyja began to laugh, blue eyes glittering with amusement.
"You understand us? My, this I did not expect at all. Dear Hati, have you been teaching her?”
“I have not,” he replied, his gaze too falling to me, his with something akin to smug pride. “I doubt she even realises what language it is she is speaks now. She changes from using one with her family to speaking another to Astrid without so much as a stutter.”
I blinked, then turned a frown towards my mate. I did? Was I not speaking the tongue of Nirribhidh right now? That and The Gàidhlig were the only ones I knew.
“You are speaking with the fluent tongue of one born here in Ásgarðr,” Freyja explained, a grin still stretching full pink lips. “Your accent is flawless.”
I blinked again.
No. I couldn’t be.
“You have spoken it to me before, Little Alpha,” Hati insisted. “While other times I have spoken it and you have looked at me with no recognition. Being here has perhaps unlocked a part of you that knows it from before you were born into Midgard.”
"Oh."
Well. . .It would explain Gná’s surprise when I’d spoken to her, and why she and Freyja hadn’t addressed me directly; they weren’t being rude, they’d been under the impression I wouldn’t understand. But. . . it sounded familiar, the words they spoke, as familiar as the language of my homeland, and more so than the fumbling Norse I spoke. . .how?
“You knew, my handmaiden, oh what a jest you have played on me, Gná. I look the fool. I can’t wait to see the surprise on the other’s faces.” Freyja laughed again, before sobering up with a breath, her focus returning to my mate. “Noq that I know we all understand each other, shall we move on? You asked for an audience, Hati. I am here to listen before the gaggle of the court comes on the heels of my husband.”
“I would rather your husband joined us to hear the news I have brought-“
“He is listening, son of Fenrir. Speak your news, and then I am sure you will have demands to make of me in return. . .including, I believe, sparing your Uncle.”
Vali shuffled forward to my side, bowing lower than he’d done for me, but with far less playfulness as he said, “It is my news to share, radiant one. I brought it, and for my life, from my lips you shall hear it.”
Gná made a clicking sound with her tongue, fingers dancing over the shaft of her spear in a way that made Vali gulp.
“Peace, Gná,” Freyja frowned at her before motioning for Vali to step forward. “Speak, Lokison.”
Vali smirked at Gná, then strode forward with a cocky tilt to his head, confidence returning. He bowed again before Freyja’s throne, rising with a grave expression more suited to what he was about to tell her.
“Sköll seeks a weapon from the vault, one he would reveal to only his closest, however, from your expression, I guess you know which one. . . He will attack Ásgarðr, My Lady, but it will be a distraction. While the force used for this distraction will probably require many warriors, you must make sure the vault is also suitably defended. I would consider immediately removing the weapon and hiding it elsewhere.”
“A wise suggestion, son of Loki,” Gná muttered, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Unless waiting until we are moving the item to its new location is exactly what Sköll wants. We know well you fly the flag of whichever master gives you what you need at the time. You switch sides like a flopping fish on the deck of a ship; the perfect man to send to make us think he might be hoping for our forgiveness by offering such information.”
Vali looked neither offended nor concerned with her appraisal, one I knew my mate shared. He gave Gná a dashing smile, and shrugged. “It is up to you whether to believe it or not. However, I know neither where Sköll will strike to distract you, how he intends to get into the vault, or which weapon he is keen to have-“
“The holes in your knowledge do not convince me you are telling the truth. In fact, if you are, it tells me your sleuthing skills have becomes sorely lacking.”
That offended him. He ate up the distance between them in a blink, his snarl bouncing off the walls. “He stopped trusting me. He thinks I somehow helped Hati and Eabha escape his grasp so he kicked me out of his inner circle. That I know of this attack and managed to leave with my life is indeed beyond even my belief, and that I stand here before you in one piece with any information of use at all is thanks to my skill, and not the lacking of! If I was so useless I would have been killed centuries ago.”
“That we can agree on.” The warrior smirked, her chin lifting as she gained another snarl.
“I believe him,” I said, wishing to put a balm on the tension sizzling in the room. “He may be good at being who he needs to be to survive, at showing whichever emotion, or show of contrition, might gain him another chance, but no one can fake the fear I saw in his eyes when he came to me for help. I do not see what good would come of making this up. He knows his life would be forfeit if he was caught lying.”
Hati shifted on his feet, though I couldn’t tell whether he was unhappy I’d spoken out or if he was worried what the three goddesses staring at me would make of my outburst.
Of course there was the worry of whether the information was to be trusted, but my fear was more that if Sköll had kicked Vali out of his inner circle, who was to say he didn’t feed him false information to his benefit knowing Vali would need something to bargain with for safety.
Freyja chuckled, her eyes moving to something over my shoulder, but when I looked back, I could see nothing.
“You have made my husband smile, Child of Ragnarök. It seems he is an agreement with you, as am I. I believe it is best we treat this as a real threat until proven otherwise.”
Gná spun to face her with parted lips, though no protest left them. Fulla, who hadn’t uttered a word so far, offered me a smile and a nod. Hati’s hand on my back was another vote of confidence. Maybe it was only I who could hear the puirt-à-beul paced beat of my heart hammering away as adrenaline pumped through my veins.
Child of Ragnarök. An ominous title.
“A wise decision,” Hati agreed.
Freyja hummed, her expression creased in deep thought. “Thank you for bringing us this news. We will think well on what to do and make sure we act swiftly. Vali, you are free to remain in Hati’s pack if you wish, as long as you are welcome there. I’m sure I need not make threats about what will happen if you betray us, or them.”
Vali gulped, bowing once more. “Yes, My Lady. Hati has been very clear in what will happen to me if I do, though I fear it is Eabha’s teeth I would truly have to deal with.”
My lips twitched.
I would rain down more than fang and claw on him if he betrayed us. There would be nothing left of him to bury or burn if a single of his actions caused harm to my pack.
“Until she is called to her true purpose, I believe that to be true,” Freyja replied. “Her place as Alpha was unforeseen, and while I am both pleased of and proud of the accomplishment, that is not her final place.”
It felt like a waterfall of ice had come toppling down on me. What did that mean? Not my final place?
“Until I return the souls to Hel’s keep and stop Sköll from destroying us all, I know being Alpha is not my only duty. Yet, nobody will tell me how I’m to do that. This is why I have come. I need answers. I know what I am, or what I should be, but not how.”
“No, child.” Freyja shook her head slowly with sympathy misting bright eyes. “You’ve no idea what you are, whatever you’ve heard. . ."
“Then tell me!” I pleaded.
“This body you are in now is young, used only to hide you away, it is not where you belong. It can not contain all that you are. When the time comes, if you are to save those of us you can, you would need to leave it behind. Only then will you understand what you are.”
“Leave it behind?”
“She means you would have to die,” Hati growled, his stature growing as he postured towards a goddess who didn’t so much as blink at him, or the absurdity of what he’d said.
One might have thought her unaffected by such a claim if they missed the subtle dip of her head. “I mean she would need to be released from the restraints of the body we bound her to.”
The world was ripped from beneath my feet. I barely heard the argument that followed, my mate’s growls thundering so loud the windows rattled and the ground shook. It was all I could do to remind my shocked body that I still needed to breathe.
“You created a life knowing it would need to be taken! You entrusted her to me knowing I would-"
“You are mistaken! I entrusted her to you because I knew you would keep her safe, that you would be willing to do anything to right the wrongs of your brother, and perhaps slow the progress of Ragnarök. What Eabha will become, she already was long before even I walked the realms. All I did was take that spark of energy, energy that already had a level of consciousness, and give it a body to hide from those who would seek to use or destroy it.
“The seed she grew from in Laoghaire’s womb was plucked from one of the apples of Idunn, her bones are strengthened by the branches of Yggdrasill, and in her blood runs water from Mímisbrunnr. What she is, is beyond even Odin. Unforeseen by me, she can traverse worlds and dreams as easily as she straddles the veil between life and death. She will one day return to being capable of creating life as much as she is of bringing great destruction. I am powerful, I know more of Seidr than nearly all who claim to know magic, but even I could not have guessed what would come of what we created. As little as I could have guessed that she would fall in love with you, so do not accuse me of being some grand orchestrator of grief and heartbreak.”
Hati was silent for a long moment, head bowed and expression hard with dislike of being scolded. When he spoke again, his words were a hoarse whisper, “Tell me you did not know I would fall for her.”
“I knew you would be drawn to each other. Your paths are closely intertwined, prophecy and duty bind you together, closer than I could know. For every fork in life one of you took that would lead you apart, the other would take another further down the road that led you back together. It has been extraordinary to watch.”
I might have felt validation that Hati and I were together out of choice rather than fate alone if I’d been of mind to listen. As it was, I was amazed I remained on my feet when my mind swirled with the myriad of impossible things that made up my existence. How could one possibly comprehend being created in such a way? Of being created with such things.
And yet all that paled in comparison to being faced with where my path would lead me.
“When?” I asked, voice oddly calm despite the inner turmoil determined to make my legs buckle beneath me. “When and how am I to die? Tell me what I am to do. I won’t continue to search blindly in the dark while you have the ability to light a candle for me. Tell me how giving my life will save anyone, convince me I should allow my feet to tread to that end.”
“No. I will not hear of this,” Hati bellowed, whipping around to glower his fury down on my calm resignation. “If Freyja did not see all you would be now, then how can we trust she sees all that you will ever be? If we can slow the progress of Ragnarök then we can have time to find another way of doing whatever she expects you to do without having to sacrifice yet another life.” He twisted back to face Freyja again, his form shuddering, hands fisted by his side to hold back the wolf wanting to tear free. “You have watched enough of my family be damned, you will not take another. Especially not the life of my mate!”
Sadness eminated from the goddess, alongisde a weariness that spoke of centuries of her own grief. “There is no other way. Her last breath will be the breath that returns life to these lands so those of my children who survive have a place to start again, so your pack have meadows and forests to roam. More than that, her light will return the sun you destroy so her own people, the skin shifters of Midgard, continue to thrive too. You are not the only one who faces great loss Hati Hróðvitnisson. By the time Ragnarök has passed, my husband, and many of my children will have fallen. I saw that. I saw their deaths. And you do not see them screaming at me as if seeing what will be is the same as causing it to happen.”
Hati deflated, though anger still sharpened his scent, sweetness masked by something dark and oily that clung to his expression too.
“You do not need to remind me, My Lady,” he muttered. “Your visions of Ragnarök are the reason I grew up without a father. It did not need to be that way. I’m sure you see that now. I’m sure you see in binding him, you created the monster. So forgive me if I am firm in the belief that this does not need to be. If I must to save my mate, then she and I will stop Ragnarök from happening at all.”
To hear him speak so passionately, and for me, it warmed my soul. He was right. Too many times the gods had been given knowledge of the future that ended in that knowledge causing the fulfillment. Was that hope enough that Freyja could be wrong? Or now that I knew, was there no escape?
“Prophecies can not be stopped. Delayed, yes, changed perhaps, but never stopped. Our followers on Midgard have dwindled, our names becoming nothing more than echoes. Our deeds will soon be nothing but myth and legend; stories told of gods from long ago. One day that will change. One day people will whisper life back into our names, and that dying ember will one day be a raging fire again, but for that to happen, so must Ragnarök.”
Hati growled again, pacing away a few steps while I tried not to notice the pity on the faces of the others in the room.
Brown eyes clashed with blue, and Freya tipped her head as she met my determined expression with one of her own. Then, even though her lips did not part to so much as breath, I heard the whisper of her voice in my head, like a forgotten memory. . .
“Sometimes for things to survive, they must die, and be reborn.”