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Chapter IV: Jötunheimr

Loki and Thor came with us right up to the gates to Jötunheimr. They really were gates, huge iron gates that were shut fast, with a heavy chain holding them closed. We went – I can't believe I'm saying this – in a chariot drawn by goats.

Yeah. Goats. The kind that make weird bleaty noises and try to eat your hair.

Of course because we were living a freaky Norse legend, the goats were munching something that looked horribly like a raw, dismembered cow when we first saw them.

Thor drew up outside the gates and we all got down. Sam's eyes were wide as he looked at the gates. Past them, nearly at the horizon, we could see the bulk of a huge castle through the endlessly-falling snow. I asked if that was our destination. Loki nodded.

"We would storm it, but it's closely guarded. We don't have a hope without the hammer, and in any case I don't want to risk having the two hammers used against each other… So you remember the plan?" he added for the five millionth time.

Before I could say something snarky, Sam said, "Yeah, we do. But I want a sign of good faith."

"From us?"

Sam shrugged. "You have us all dressed up about to infiltrate Jötunheimr. I think that's enough of a sign of good faith on our side."

"What do you want?"

Sam raised his head and stiffened his shoulders, making sure Loki was very aware of his extra inches. "Send Dean home now. Safe. Unharmed."

I said, "What the hell!" about the same moment Loki said, "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"You'll still have me," Sam said calmly. "I'll go in and pretend to be Freyja, and you can sneak in as the handmaiden and get the hammer. You don't need Dean for this."

Before Loki could say anything, I told him, "Excuse me a moment. I need to pound some sense into my idiot brother."

Then I dragged Sam away. It was easy enough, given how much he was floundering in his ridiculous frilly dress.

Once we'd put a comfortable distance between us and the two pagan gods, I said, "Are you out of your freaking mind, Sam? Do you not know the plan? You really think this Loki dude is going to come back for you once he's got his hammer?"

"Dean –"

"He's not Gabriel. Remember that. Gabriel was – OK, maybe a little less of a bastard than the other sons of bitches, and I know you have a soft spot for him because he brought me back to life when you begged him to. But you've told me yourself Loki can be evil."

"But you'll be safe," Sam said, like I was an idiot for not seeing that. "Dean, there's no sense both of us risking our lives for this."

"Did you miss the part where I agreed to this damn fool plan only because I was going in with you?" Sam started to pull the eyes, but I grabbed his shoulder before he could. "Don't. I get it, OK? I get that you can persuade Gabriel to do this and then he'll send me back with or without my consent, but don't."

"You'll be safe," Sam said softly.

I was torn between wanting to ask him where all the concern had been while I was in Purgatory and hugging him until he stopped sounding so young and lost.

But I didn't want to start a fight, and we had lost enough manliness by wearing dresses, so I just said, "Together, Sam. Come on. Isn't that the way we always do it? You and me against whatever crap is going on. We'll be fine."

Sam sighed. "Fine."

Sam and I were trudging through the knee-deep snow. I had a guiding hand on Sam's shoulder. Visibility sucked for me. I was sure Sam, who now had all those layers of gauzy veil down over his face, wouldn't be able to see a damn thing.

We'd covered about half the distance to the castle when there was a loud clanking sound. Another chariot appeared from the mist, a horse-drawn one, with a Thor-sized guy sitting on it. Unlike Thor, though, who just looked like he didn't care about much beyond alcohol and fighting, this guy actually looked malevolent.

I pulled my veil over my face just before he descended.

"Lady Freyja?" He asked. Sam inclined his head without saying anything. The man smiled. "I was sent to bring you to my master. Come with me." His burning gaze fell on me. "Are you Lady Freyja's handmaiden?"

I decided that for once it would be best to follow Sam's example and nod.

"You may come with us as well."

He handed Sam into the chariot as delicately as if he'd been a piece of fine porcelain. Apparently the goddess-of-beauty impression was good enough to convince one jötunn, at least. I filed it away to tease Sam about later.

The chariot drew up outside the castle. Sam and I were shown to a private room so the Lady Freyja could prepare herself for her first meeting with her bridegroom.

"Now what?" I asked. "How long do I have before they know you're not Freyja?"

Sam shrugged. "I can probably pull it off until I have to take off the veil. Based on the legend, Thrymr's going to feed me first, so you have some time." He slipped the hammer out and handed it to me. "Best if you keep that. You're the one who's going to have to fight."

"You can't go in weaponless."

"If I can pull this off, it won't come to my needing a weapon. And if they have guards on Mjölnir, you'll need some way to get past them. Keep it. I'll see you after the wedding feast."

I took it, frowning at the mention of the wedding feast. "Don't eat anything they give you."

I couldn't see Sam rolling his eyes because of the veil, but I could sense it. "Don't be ridiculous, Dean. Thrymr thinks I'm Freyja. He's not going to want to poison me."

"Yeah, but what if he suspects a trick and serves up something that's safe only for Gods? Thor would have been fine." I shook my head. "And we wouldn't even know how to identify something like that. So, no, Sam. No food. And it's not like you're a big fan of food anyway, so don't be a bitch and decide to eat here just because I'm telling you not to."

Sam laughed. "OK. Fine. I won't eat. Happy?"

"I'll be happy when we're back home."

Sam opened his mouth, but before he could say anything the man was back. "Thrymr awaits the Lady Freyja."

I squeezed Sam's shoulder and whispered, "Be careful. Stay alive."

Sam shot me a look, though I couldn't really read his expression under all those veils. But his hand found my arm, and I felt the press of his fingers on my bicep. Then Sam and the jötunn were gone and I was alone.

I didn't leave the room right away. If this Thrymr person had even half a brain, he suspected a trick. There would be guards outside the door. There'd probably be guards outside the windows, too.

But they'd be expecting a woman in a dress, not a hunter with a job to do.

I stripped down to my jeans. I didn't have a shirt and it was freezing, but I could swipe one of those off the first guard I managed to knock out.

I looked around for anything I could use as a weapon, because I didn't trust the hammer to behave itself and I didn't plan to use it except as a last resort. Finally I decided on the heavy poker next to the fireplace. I hefted it. It had a nice balance, sitting in my palm like it was meant to be a weapon and not a household implement.

Right. It was time to go kick some Norse-bad-guy ass.

The door was unlocked. There was only one guard outside the room and he was freaking useless, standing around staring cluelessly into the distance. Probably because he thought I was a handmaiden and not a threat.

Idiot.

By the time he managed to turn, I'd hit him hard enough to wind him, and another firm blow sent him sprawling to the ground. Then I used the hammer to make sure he wouldn't be getting up again.

I grabbed his sword and his coat. It would be about twelve times too big on me – hell, it would've been twelve times too big on Sam – and it smelt weird, but it would have to do. At least the sword was sharp.

The place was huge, though, and I didn't have the faintest clue where to start looking. I bit my lip. Time was important – time was crucial; Sam couldn't keep up the charade forever and I didn't think he could defend himself against a horde of angry giants even if he had Mjölnir. I had to be quick –

And I couldn't do this alone.

Making up my mind, I made my way down the corridor to where I could hear sounds of feasting and revelry. (Sam's words, not mine.) A couple of the frost-things shot me sidelong glances as I walked past, but it looked like they were too drunk to register that I wasn't one of them.

I opened the huge double doors and slipped into the high stone hall.

Nobody noticed. Everyone's eyes were on the table at the far end of the room, where a plus-sized dude was singing drunkenly about the beauty of his new wife.

I couldn't hold back a smirk. This was years' worth of blackmail material. I would never be letting Sam live this down.

But first we needed to get out and get back home, and for that we needed Mjölnir.

Sam was sitting next to Thrymr, head bowed and hands clasped demurely on the table. He was barely moving, probably not wanting to cause any extra scrutiny.

I sidled along the wall. I knew the moment Sam caught the movement; and as soon as he raised his head a fraction, he knew it was me.

Sam ducked his head again so quickly I half-thought I'd imagined him noticing me. He laid a hand on his companion's arm, as gently as a woman would. I didn't know whether to laugh or grit my teeth. When Thrymr bent to whisper to Sam, I decided on gritting my teeth.

After a moment, Thrymr raised his head. "Lady Freyja wishes to see the hammer Mjölnir," he announced.

Two of the jötnar standing behind him began to make their way to the door, and I let out a sigh. Sam had known what I needed. Of course Sam had known. We might not be on the best of terms, and he might have half his mind on the girl he'd left behind, but he still knew me better than anybody else ever would.

I slipped out and followed the jötnar who were going for the hammer.

Getting it wasn't difficult. They were too drunk to know I was following them, and I had a sword. And a magic-hammer-from-the-future under my coat.

I hid the second hammer under my coat too – nice furry greatcoat, I could've hidden a freaking car under there and not shown it beyond looking like a bit like Santa Claus (the Disney kind, not the creep who pulled out one of Sam's fingernails).

Then I went back to the hall.

Well, obviously. I wasn't leaving without Sam, Gabriel's stupid plan notwithstanding. And he was an idiot for ever thinking I would.

I slipped in. If the freaks hadn't been drunk out of their tiny brains they'd probably have wondered what was up with me coming and going, but they were too far gone.

Sam looked up again, eyes meeting mine automatically as I made my way through the crowd to him. I nodded.

Sam bitchfaced at my lack of adherence to the plan – and if Sam thought I was going to follow a plan that involved me leaving him unarmed and helpless with a horde of drunk Norse giants, things were worse than I'd thought – but he got to his feet, extricating himself deftly from the arm Thrymr had flung around his back.

"Moron," he hissed, as soon as he was close enough.

"Me or your new husband?"

"Shut up. What are you doing here? Did you get it?"

"Of course I got it. What do you take me for? Come on, let's go."

Before we could get moving, though, the doors were flung open and a guard hurried in.

"Treachery!" he yelled. "Lord Thrymr, your men are slain and Mjölnir has been taken!"

Oh crap.

The news seemed to sober Thrymr at once. His ugly little eyes narrowed as his head swivelled, until he was looking straight at Sam.

Oh crap.

"Dean, go," Sam hissed under his breath, as Thrymr got to his feet.

"Are you freaking insane? I'm not leaving!"

"We can't fight them all off, Dean. And he already suspects me. He's not going to let me leave. You have to go. Take the hammer to Thor and come back with Thor and Loki."

"Not happening."

"Dean. It's the only way you can help me. Or else we're both going to die here." I shook my head. It was sensible, and rational, but still. No. "Dean, please." Thrymr growled an order, and a couple of the giants seized Sam's arms. "Please."

That was the last word Sam had time for before they dragged him back to the table, ripping the veils off and pushing him roughly to his knees.

I swallowed. Sam was right. The only way I could help him was to leave and come back with the people who could actually kill these sons of bitches.

I waited until everyone was yelling and seizing weapons, and then I ran out of the room.

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