We all know the Asgardian's version of the war with the Frost Giants...but what about a story from the other side?

Enjoy!

Sacrifice

I can hear them coming, though they are still far away, they grow closer with every passing second. I look down at the babe in my arms, my son, my only child, my silver lining. When they break our defences, which is inevitable, we will be found and they will kill us both; I cannot let that happen.

The wards around my room will grant us extra time, but not much, and I hastily scour my surroundings for a suitable hiding place. The bed, the closet, the desk, the cot…none of them are suitable, and my heart skips a beat as I hear tramping footsteps outside the door. I sigh as they pass, taking a deep breath to help focus my mind; panicking will get us nowhere.

My mind alights on a possibility; under my bed there is a section of the floor that is removable, and it's where I keep my most precious belongings guarded by magic. It's small…but the child could fit if I emptied it. A frown creases my brow as I'm presented with further obstacles; how will he breathe? What if he cries?

Instinctively I glance down at him, only to find his solemn eyes staring up at me, wide and candid in his infancy, but with an intelligence that I know will serve him well in future years…if he gets to them. Very softly, I start to hum a lullaby, rocking him gently in my arms as I think on what to do.

If I put him under my bed, I'd have to cast a spell to ensure he could still breathe properly, and if I put him to sleep beforehand then he won't likely wake up and cry out. Of course, there is the risk that the room is raided and he is roused, but in the months I have had him sleeping in my room, not once has he cried when been awoken. If I am lucky, the intruders would come and go without ever noticing his presence. And if I survive, I can return for him and take him someplace safe, somewhere far from this realm and its inhabitants. If, always if…it is frustrating to know that no matter how much I plan, if fate is set against me, then I am lost. I brush such thoughts from my mind; I need to focus on what I know will happen rather than what might happen.

My decision made, I hurriedly set the child in his cot, shoving my bed out of the way and revealing the bare floor beneath it. With a tap of my magic a section of the stone slides away to reveal a small cove of treasures I have collected over the years; a shard of everlasting ice from the northern border, a battered book written in the language of the Asgardians, a leaf from one of the great trees in Alfheim…a vial of Laufey's blood he gave to me on the night we first bonded. I curl my fingers around the glass, a faint smile gracing my lips as I watch the dark liquid tilt and sway within. Slipping the vial under my dress, I waste no time in scooping the compartment clear, dumping everything I once deemed precious on the floor. When I am done, I hastily stuff it all into my closet, and go to my son. He hasn't made a sound all this time, but as I draw him to me a small gurgle escapes him, and I smile in spite of myself as a tiny yawn escapes him.

I'm humming again, a little louder this time, bobbing gently up and down to encourage him to sleep. I keep my ears tuned to the outside world, and I realise I haven't heard anything major for a while…what has happened? Surely the Asgardians have not been defeated so easily? Or maybe they have already won…?

Panic quickens my heart as footsteps hurry to my door, and I barely have time to retreat behind my closet before the door opens and a familiar figure rushes in. I breathe a sigh of relief, stepping from the shadows.

"Runa, what news?" I ask as they close the door behind them. The woman looks up at me, her eyes betraying her fright,

"Feya, their numbers are great and they have breached the main gates…they will be at the palace in minutes," my life-long friend answers, her eyes taking in the moved bed and uncovered hiding hole, "Laufey has ordered me to take you and your child to the temple." I cannot help the surprise that crosses my features at this; Laufey personally requested that I be protected? Runa sees the look on my face and she gives me a small smirk, "you are still a favourite of his, despite what the others might tell you."

"As if I would believe their envious jibes," I retort with a smile of my own. Runa chuckles, then sobers abruptly,

"Still, we must leave at once…are you ready?" I nod quickly, the most important thing to me right now is the child in my arms, and his safety is my priority; the temple can offer him protection I never could, and at the back of my mind I wonder why I didn't think of it in the first place.

I don't bother pushing my bed back to its place, instead wrapping my son in another blanket before leaving with Runa, hurrying along the corridors with her. All is cold and dark, which is the usual way things are in Jotunheim, but there is a sour taste to the air, and all seems brittle and frayed, like things are falling apart at the seams. A few guards pass us by, and I see their faces are grim but determined as they set to face the threat against our realm. I know Laufey may not always make the right decisions, but he is a good King to his people and he has our love and respect.

To reach the temple we must cross an open courtyard and my arms tighten around my child as I duck my head against the onslaught. There is noise everywhere, the clashing of weapons, the screech of metal, the cries of the wounded and dying…I dare not look up, aware that all is happening mere feet away from me. The smell of blood is heavy in the air and I nearly trip over a fallen soldier, his chest cleaved near in two by a wicked Asgardian axe. I have no time to mourn as I rush after Runa, diving back into the safety of the palace walls and onwards to the temple.

We are stopped in our tracks as we pass too near the fighting and a giant and an Asgardian duel in our path, blocking the way. Runa flattens me against the wall, shielding me with her body, but the fighters pay us little attention, engrossed in their battle. The giant wins when the Asgardian mistakenly touches his skin and in a moment he is frozen and his skull smashed. The victor glances up at us, his eyes filled with battle-fire, and he nods to us briefly before striding off in search of new prey.

Runa deflates visible and grabs my shoulder, pulling me onwards while muttering, "that was too close, too close," under her breath. The blanket around my son has shaken loose and I hasten to tighten it as we run, my arms vice like so as not to drop him, and I fear I might be hurting him. He makes no complaint though, and I fix the blanket and speed on, my feet pounding against the stone as my heart beats frantically within my chest.

Finally, we reach the temple, and Runa pounds against the door with both fists, yelling the password and crying for assistance. Before I have time to blink the door opens a fraction and hands reach out and snatch us inside, shutting the door behind us.

"Runa, do you have to yell the password so loudly?" a giantess scolds my friend, and I nearly roll my eyes. Runa scowls but makes no reply, grabbing me once again and dragging me further into the safety of the temple. I don't come here often, but every time I do the splendour of the place never fails to amaze me, the glowing blue of the ice, the crisp feel to the air…it's both refreshing and relaxing.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere of the place is marred by the situation it faces, and I see the figures of many women and children dotted around the place, all taking refuge in this sacred place. I exchange courteous glances with those I recognise before they turn away from me, and I almost smile as I realise that even in our time of crisis I am shunned.

Runa leads me to a corner by the altar and sits me down, not far from another giantess and her own child in arms.

"I must go, but stay here…you'll be safe," my friend tells me, and I want her to remain here with me, but I know better than to ask. Everyone who can fight is fighting, and even in the temple only those with small children are allowed to stay, the mothers of older children being separated and sent to fight alongside the fathers. I bid my friend goodbye, quelling the quake of fear I feel in my heart at the thought of her dying; Runa is a good, strong warrioress, and she will not go down easily.

In the semi-quiet of the temple, I rest my head against the wall at my back, adjusting my son so that we are both at our most comfortable. The sounds of fighting are almost non-existent, and were it not for the talking and shuffling of many mothers and children, this place might almost be peaceful.

The giantess next to me is ignoring me, but I pay her no attention; she no doubt believes, like so many others, that I am a manipulative witch who tricked her way into Laufey's bed, and I doubt anything I say at this moment will convince her otherwise.

Of course, I see myself in a different light. I'm different from other giantesses, in many ways, first of all being my size; I am tiny compared to my peers, and I fear I have passed on the trait to my son. Secondly, I have magic, which is surprisingly uncommon among frost giants, and viewed with caution by most. Thirdly, and perhaps my most prominent feature of disdain by others, is my intellect; I just so happen to be intelligent, more so than the average giantess. All of these put together have made me an object of mockery by some, and prompted most to shun me. To be perfectly honest, I could care less what others thought of me or said about me behind my back, and I was quite content to brush off such comments. And then, of course, I met Laufey.

It was at a gathering not too long ago, hosted by the King for his people, when the main hall was full and the drink was flowing. I was bored and resorted to entertaining myself by changing the colour of the food or conjuring tiny ice butterflies to nip people. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but Laufey noticed me and asked to meet me. I was presented to him, we began to converse, and then…

Well, to cut it all short, he became intrigued with me and I became one of his mistresses. As King, he was entitled to as many women as he liked, but he was surprisingly picky about them. To my knowledge, I am one of 4 current mistresses to Laufey, and the only one he has called upon repetitively for advice. He has no wife, but I do like to entertain the idea that I am the closest thing he has to one. I know he cares for me, though I am unsure how deep his affection runs, and I certainly care for him. And maybe if things were not so against me I might one day become his wife…I cannot say for certain.

Laufey's decision to make me his mistress was not a popular one, to say the least. Many objected to it, but few did so openly, and instead fumed and muttered quietly in small groups around the court. My already low appeal to other giantesses dropped dramatically, and I was suddenly the object of more ridicule and lies than I care to remember. But I kept to my previous method of ignoring such talk, and satisfied myself with beating any who dared challenge me with my wits and holding myself in high-esteem wherever I went. Runa and a few others have stuck by me regardless, and thus I fancy I can quite easily carry on my life as it is. That is, if my life is given time to carry on.

My thoughts have drifted, and in that time a handful of other mothers have arrived, bearing grave news that trickle through our ranks in hushed voices. Apparently all is not going well at all and the Asgardians are looking to storm the palace and take control completely. Some giantesses are looking to leave and flee, but I would deem such a task idiotic as it is still a bloodbath out there and if an Asgardian didn't get you then a wild creature certainly would, especially if you had a small child. I will remain here, and should the worst come to the worst, I will do all I can to protect my son, even if I must die trying.

The deities above must have heard my self-less thoughts, because moments later I am listening to the pounding of Asgardian fists on the temple doors. Mothers all around me are hurrying to fight or flee, shoving their children away or sending them running. I remain seated while chaos ensues around me, calmly thinking out my options.

I could leave with the others through the back door, but the Asgardians are not stupid and will no doubt have this place surrounded. I could hide somewhere in the temple, but I do not know it well enough and my magic alone will not guarantee our safety. I could stand and fight, but I would risk my son in the process, and I will do no such thing.

The pounding is relentless and soon turns into the steady beat of a battering ram. At the back of my mind, I wonder why they are so eager to reach the temple since I know of little here that would be of value to them. Nevertheless, it is a sacred place and will have its secrets.

My son has fallen asleep, bless him. He cried a little earlier on but only because he was hungry, and he settled once I fed him. His chest rises and falls in steady breaths, his small lips parted with the pink of a tongue just visible between the folds. I brush a finger against the markings on his forehead; I cannot let him die.

I raise my eyes to the heavens, and as I do they snag on the altar. It is then I realise that it is hollow, and I shuffle over for a closer look. A cloth is draped over it, hiding the hollow from view as it dips into the ground, and my heart flutters as I realise it is the perfect size for my son. Without really thinking I lower him to the ground, settling him in the hollow beneath the altar, pulling the cloth around to hide him from view. It is a weak hiding place, but I feel strangely comforted by it, almost reassured by the altar's sacred value that my son will not come to harm within its hold.

The babe sighs in his sleep, and I lower my lips to kiss his brow, surprising myself when tears fall onto his face. Drawing back, I find I am crying, and I hastily brush the tears from my face; crying will get me nowhere.

The sound of splintering wood breaks the air and the sound of chaos escalates around me. I have no time to spare and whisper the briefest fare well to my only son before I stand and face the enemy. I retreat from the altar, not risking a glance back and praying fervently in my mind that he will be safe. My body reacts almost automatically as I see an Asgardian rush forward and all of a sudden I am fighting, magic flying from my fingers as I whirl in ice and terror.

I don't know how many I wound or kill, but then I am falling and there is something sticking from my chest; an arrow. I hit the ground and pain rockets through me, and everything is red and there is blood and I can see the stars above.

Darkness begins to cloud my vision, and I know this is the end…my end.

My last thoughts are of my son, mere feet away…sleeping.

If there is any mercy in all the 9 realms, he will sleep on.

If there is any mercy in all the 9 realms, he will survive.

If there is any mercy in all the 9 realms, he will live.

Please read and review! I'll let you decide who the giantess is...but I'm sure you can guess :P

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