A/N: This is part of Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl's "Shadows and Regrets" universe, but can be read as an AU standalone. Written by request. Happy birthday!
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Sweat trickled between Freyja's shoulder blades as she fended off blows from her opponent's sword. Her armour was stifling. She parried a strike; the blades slipped together; metal scraped metal and she wondered what the sound of metal piercing flesh was like; the feel of it... Or flesh entering flesh.
Her defence faltered and another strike from her opponent knocked the sword out of her hand. The tip of his dull blade rested on her collarbone.
"Is this how the Valkyrie fly?"
Freyja glared. Her opponent lowered his blade and took off his helmet. Sweat pasted his blonde hair to his fair skin. He frowned, his blue eyes troubled. "What is wrong, sister? You never admit defeat so easily."
Freyja took off her own helmet and tucked loose strands of her golden hair back into the braid that crowned her head. She turned away from her twin. "I am just distracted, Frey."
"Your wedding?"
"My wedding night."
"Freyja!" Frey shuddered exaggeratedly. "There are some things that a brother does not need to know his sister thinks of!"
"My dear, sweet, naive Frey, it shall not be long when I will be doing rather than thinking."
Freyja laughed as her twin covered his ears and pretended to vomit. She began taking off her armour. The cool breeze felt good, cutting through the cotton tunic that stuck to her sweaty skin.
"Father will not be happy if you leave your armour here again," Frey warned as his twin headed off the training grounds.
"Father can castrate himself!" Freyja retorted, whirling on Frey. "This is no use to me any longer. I shall never complete my training and join the Valkyrie. Women in Asgard do not wield swords!"
She stormed out of the training grounds and headed for the stables, but Frey followed and caught her arm.
"I am sorry."
Freyja pulled her arm away.
"You always hated training," Frey continued, walking beside her. "I thought- well, I thought it would be something you would be glad of. Not having to train anymore."
"I did hate training. Until I was told that I would no longer be permitted to continue. Leave me alone, Frey."
She dashed into the stables, leaving her twin behind. She quickly saddled her horse and swung up, straddling it – another thing she would no longer be permitted to do, ride horses like a warrior. In Asgard, women rode side saddle – as if it was possible to actually ride in such an uncomfortable fashion!
Freyja would have preferred to ride without a saddle at all. Several incidents of injuries from getting thrown in early adolescence has mostly cured her of attempting to do so- but she loved the feeling of freedom, her fingers twined in the horse's mane, clenching its flanks with her knees.
The goddess felt her nerves calm as she guided her horse to the fields outside the city and urged it to a full gallop. Life changes, she reminded herself, and few women can say that they prevent war single-handedly.
Except her hands would have nothing to do with peace.
"Stop it!" Freyja hissed at herself, reining her horse to a stop. She dismounted, pressed her smooth white hand to her alabaster brow. She had been told by her stepmother, Skadi, that virgins were always anxious about their wedding night; what she was feeling was perfectly normal.
"Frey told me you would be here, little sister."
Freyja turned to see a tall, heavily muscled man walking towards her. A smile broke across her face and she launched herself into his arms.
"Atum!" she exclaimed happily, burying her face into her older brother's golden tunic. "You came!"
"I heard my favourite sibling was getting married, of course I came." He smiled warmly, his green eyes sparkling, a sight few besides herself and their mother had ever seen. His golden skin flashed in the sun, as did the curved sword at his waist. "Although I wonder why I was not told by the bride herself about her wedding."
"I have been busy. Training."
"Training for the Valkyrie? Little sister, I would sooner believe you were too busy trying on wedding gowns."
Freyja's smile slipped. She would have to be carefully with her wording. Her brother's temper was not to be tempted. "Training in customs. I am not to be wedded in Vanaheim. My betrothed is Aesir. The younger prince. Ve."
A cloud passed over Atum's face. "Why?"
"I agreed to this marriage, brother. You know me well enough to know that I do not do things I do not want to do."
"What has the fool your father done, Freyja?"
Freyja gripped Atum's shoulders. "Promise me that you shall not be angry."
"I do not take orders, little sister," Atum replied, tapping her nose. "That is something you and I have in common."
Freyja widened her eyes until tears pooled in them. "Please. He may be a fool but I do love my father."
Atum smiled fondly. "Someday those false tears shall not get you what you want from me."
"Is this that day?"
"No. Walk with me, sister, and I will not let my temper get the best of me."
Freyja smiled smugly as they began to stroll through the fat, golden wheat stalks, but it was short-lived.
"In the spring, several Vanir warriors were caught in a secret war council with fire demons. Father swore to Odin-"
"Odin?" Atum interrupted. "That arrogant little boy is king now? What happened to his father?"
"I do not rightly know, brother. You know that politics bore me. Anyway, Father swore he had no part of it, and offered to send Frey to Asgard as a show of good faith. Odin... had other plans. But I do like Ve," she was quick to add. "He is sweet. He insisted that we conduct a proper courtship, and that I be asked, not told. I hope, eventually..."
"So your father is handing you over to the Aesir as a permanent hostage."
"You promised you would not be angry," Freyja reminded him. "And I am marrying a prince, albeit the younger one. So no, not a hostage. I would think less fondly of the situation if I was required to produce an heir for the realm. As it is, I shall be able to have eight daughters and no sons, and there shall be none to complain."
Atum laughed. "What have you against sons?"
"They always prefer their fathers."
"Not always." Atum's face darkened for a moment, but Freyja looped her arm through his and he smiled at her again. "Are you certain you wish to go through with this marriage? You are so young, Freyja, even by the standards of your father's people."
Freyja walked in silence for a moment, watching two hawks circle the sky. "I shall miss Vanaheim," she said eventually. "I shall miss the sun. It is too harsh on Asgard, all hot and yellow. The blue dawns here... there is no beauty in the nine realms that can rival them- except my own, of course."
"Of course."
"I shall miss my friends. I shall miss my sweet, naive twin. I shall miss my stepmother, and my dresses. They have such horrid fashions in Asgard! Everything is covered from nape to sole... I shall die in that, it will be so hot!"
"What about your father? Shall you miss him?"
Freyja's face darkened. "No. I shall not."
"I could have word with him and Odin-"
"No!" Freyja laughed to cover the sudden spike of her heart. "I may be young to the Elder gods, but I am a grown woman and I do not require aid from my big brother at every turn anymore, Atum. Besides, there are things that I am eager for in Asgard."
"Such as?"
"Children. I intend to have a baby so quickly that the court gossips about whether it was conceived before or after the wedding!" Freyja said brightly, but Atum was not so easily embarrassed as Frey.
"You care nothing for your reputation, then?"
"What is a reputation but words put on one by others?"
Atum's smile was vague. "I see. What else are you looking forward to in Asgard?"
"Well, they have direct trade with the dwarves. I shall have so many jewels I will drown in them. And the men are much more attractive than the weasel-faced boys I have been forced to entertain here over the years."
Atum frowned. "You shall be a married woman."
"Does that mean that I shall no longer be able to enjoy pretty things?"
"You know what it means. I worry for you, little sister, and your preoccupation with pretty things."
"Do not be. I shall be fine. This... this is a good thing. It really is. Ve is an honorable man. A bit clumsy with his words, but sincere in his gestures." Freyja bit her lip. It would be a good thing. "I am going to my new home today. Will you see me off?"
"Alas, little sister, I cannot. I have... business elsewhere in the realm that I must attend to."
His tone and the darkening of his face made Freyja shiver.
"How is Mother?" she asked quickly. "Shall she attend my wedding? I have not heard from her in so long, I wonder if she still knows that I exist!"
"Gaea is well. Furious that Njord would marry you off without first consulting her. But she shall attend, or so she has told me. Now, little sister, tell me how you are planning to seduce all the hearts of Asgard into loving you more than they love their queen?"
Freyja laughed. How well her brother knew her!
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It was almost evening before the summons came for Freyja, telling her that the Aesir had arrived to take her to Asgard. She elected to wear her most daring gown- the fabric was almost sheer, and with the plunging neckline and even lower back she had already started many rumours with it. Despite protests from her ladies-in-waiting, she elected to leave her flowing golden hair loose to her knees and unadorned. She had them paint her face and rouge her lips, and put bangles on her wrists and jewels at her throat.
The people of Asgard would remember the first time they saw her!
Frey collected her from her quarters. He rolled his eyes when he saw her ensemble, but then had to wipe tears from them. He squeezed her hand tightly, with a forced smile.
"Bring my chest," Freyja ordered one of her ladies-in-waiting, gesturing to the small chest that was filled with the few jewels and books Freyja was taking on her journey. The ladies-in-waiting followed some distance behind the twins as they made their way to the courtyard.
Freyja swallowed. She was leaving. Alone. Not even a servant to accompany her-
Njord and Skadi were already waiting at the bifrost site, the circle etched into the stone. A few of the nobles were as well, and many frowned disapprovingly at Freyja's attire. She could only see one man wearing Aesir armour. It was not her husband-to-be.
"Where is Lord Ve?"
"I apologise on behalf of the prince, my lady," the Aesir solider replied. He pulled off his helmet and bowed to her. "The Jotuns are forgetting their place, and my lord Ve had to stay in Asgard to council with the Allfather. I am Faraldar, and I was sent to escort you to Asgard."
Freyja frowned at the young Aesir. He was hardly older than she was! He black hair was cut short, incredibly dark against his pale skin. He looked like he had never been in the sun; she was darker than he was. But his eyes were the most vivid amber she had ever seen. She repressed a shiver.
"If the prince thinks that the Jotuns are more important than his bride, so be it," she replied coolly, turning away. She embraced her brother and then her stepmother, and took the chest from her lady-in-waiting. "Fare thee well, sweet brother and dearest stepmother. I shall miss you both terribly. Goodbye, father."
Njord opened his mouth, but Freyja turned away, joining Faraldar in the center of the bifrost circle. She smelled orange blossoms and smiled. Her family must have infused the air with her favourite flower to help ease her parting.
"We shall be taken soon," Faraldar reassured her. "There is no need to be nervous, my lady."
He took the wooden chest from her. She opened her mouth to protest, but a column of colored lights suddenly beamed from the heavens, enveloping them both. Freyja felt a jerk in her stomach, and then she was flying. Thousands of stars whipped by her. Her stomach churned and she closed her eyes. There was another jerk, and then the movement stopped.
Freyja gasps, stumbling to one side. A strong hand caught her elbow, steadying her. She opened her eyes to find herself inches from Faraldar's vivid amber gaze.
He smelled like orange blossoms.
"Travelling via bifrost is difficult to become accustomed to," he said with an easy smile.
Freyja straightened herself, pulling away. She glanced around to see she was in a large domed room. A pedestal was centered in the room, and a very young dark-skinned man (more like a boy, really. He was younger than Freyja! Were all guards in Asgard babies?) was removing a sword from the center of the pedestal.
Freyja looked past him to see a dozen or so more guards of varying ages standing at attention near the entrance to the dome. A woman stood with them – Frigga, wife of Odin, queen of Asgard, very distant cousin of Freyja's, if the genealogies were to be believed. They shared a great-great-great-grandmother.
Everything is golden, the younger goddess thought, trying to look confident as she marched forward. The gold was too much; it hurt her eyes. Even Frigga's dress was gold. But Freyja was relieved to see that the gown was off-the-shoulder, revealing the queen's creamy white shoulders and a modest amount of cleavage. Perhaps having a Vanir queen had given the Aesir a better style after all.
"Welcome to Asgard, Lady Freyja," Frigga greeted with a warm smile. "I am truly sorry that we do not have a proper welcoming for you, but you understand that these are troubles time for us all. I hope tonight's celebrations shall help to ease the sting on this oversight.
Was it just these few guards and the queen who had come for her? No parade, no honour- not even the peasants lined to see their prince's bride? Freyja forced herself to keep her shoulders straight. She had come to seal the peace between the realms, she reminded herself, not be worshiped. Still, it hurt.
"Thank you, cousin Frigga-" she was not a citizen yet, no need to address her as 'my queen'- "This journey has been exhausting. Might I retire to my chambers now?"
"Make sure the carriage is ready," Frigga ordered the guard, and then pulled Freyja to one side. Lowering her voice, she said, "It was difficult for me, too, when I married Odin. Leaving Vanaheim."
"You and Odin married for love, or so the rumours say. You have not been ripped from your family to satisfy warmongering suspicions."
Frigga nodded. "Odin and I do love each other. And I can only imagine how difficult this is for you, cousin Freyja. But Ve is a gentle man, and he shall always treat you with kindness. And know that you can bring any problem you have to me. I shall be here to help."
"Thank you. I shall remember that," Freyja replied sweetly.
Bring her problems to a woman she barely knew?
Not likely.