Song of the Chapter: Running Up That Hill ~ Placebo

Because Placebo's cover sets the mood better than the original, faster-paced version Kate Bush sang. Special thanks to Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl for the Norse translation and the constant reviews. I hope you enjoy.


Chapter 11

Fragile Strength

"Most people want to be the sun who brightens up your day. I would rather be the moon, shining down on you in your darkest hour."

-Anonymous


It had been three days, three incredibly trying days since Freyja had returned from her mysterious journey. In those three days, she had not come out of her room, had not spoken to anyone, and had not eaten. Outside her door, acting as a personal guard, sat Freyr. He stayed almost motionless, leaning against the dark wood with an air of dismay. The prince had stayed by the door as long as Freyja had stayed within her chambers, never leaving unless he absolutely had to. His eyes were ringed with black after the nights without sleep but he refused to stop for rest. The servants and royal family alike were worried for the siblings.

Loki felt as if he was going out of his mind. He had never, not once in his life, seen Freyja do such a thing. After all of the troubles she had received, never had one driven her to hiding in the sanctity of her chambers. She wouldn't allow her brother to enter, nor the servants, which caused him to think she would not welcome him either. So he spent most of his time pacing in various rooms of the palace, trying to determine just what was troubling her.

When he was not fretting over her concerns, he had assigned himself to bringing her meals to her door every day. She had yet to so much as retrieve one, but he refused to give up in his task. As he walked towards the door at noon, he noticed Freyr was hanging his head in defeat. He looked up with sad silver eyes as he noticed Loki.

"Any sign of her?" he asked the Vanir.

"Not a word. What could possibly be ailing her? The only time she has ever kept her troubles from me was when she had the nightmares."

Loki repressed a shudder, remembering when her screams would pierce the night. She had told him some of the memories that haunted her, but often she kept silent as she saw his hurt at her revelations. He wondered if she had ever actually confided the secret in her brother.

"If that is the case, then she is only keeping to herself to keep from bringing you pain."

"What could she possibly be keeping from me?"

"I don't know, Freyr."

The blonde sighed, hanging his head once more, "She's never done this before. When something wounds her, she seeks solitude but never to such a degree. I worry for her. We can survive without sustenance, but only if we have a source of energy to sustain us. As it is, she could stay in there for centuries and never come out."

"She has to leave eventually."

He shook his head, "It has something to do with Father, that much I can tell. But I cannot fathom what he could have done to cause this reaction."

Loki sat down next to Freyr, placing the tray next to him.

"Father has always been…distant," he sighed. "And with Freyja as dependent on displays of emotion as she is, they have never seen eye-to-eye. All she has ever wanted was to coax a smile from Father, some small sign that he cares. I thought we had failed her when she ran away from home to come here. That was why I came here afterwards, much to Father's chagrin."

He paused before laughing shakily, "I was envious when I first met you. It was the first time I had felt such a thing."

"I thought the Vanir incapable of feeling envy."

"We are supposed to be unable to feel it, and yet I was greatly jealous of you. She had forged a bond with you that she had only shown to me before. It only strengthened the idea that I had let her down."

Loki shook his head, "Freyja cherishes your relationship greatly. You were there for her before she knew I existed. I could never replace you in her heart."

"You're a good man, Loki," he said suddenly. "Despite your troublesome tendencies, you are good for her."

"You should rest, Freyr," Loki said in surprise. "Your fatigue is getting the best of you."

"I'm being completely serious, though I suppose you're right."

"Go rest. I'll watch for her."

Freyr glanced at the door in hesitation.

"Go on."

With a resigned sigh, he stood up, "Thank you. And, just between you and me, if you ever wish to ask for her hand, you have my full support."

"What?"

Freyr gave a tired smile, "I'm not blind, Loki. I see the way you look at her when she isn't watching. And I know my sister too well not to know when she is in love. There was a time when she scoured the Realms for what she has with you. I'm simply glad she found it with someone I know and trust."

"You're not going to warn me not to break her heart or cause her pain?" Loki asked, not quite believing what he had heard.

"I don't believe you could if you wanted to," the crowned prince said. "The only thing I fear that will hurt her is if Father takes her back to Vanaheim to keep her away from you, though I highly doubt that she would allow it. Thank you."

With that he turned and began walking down the hall.

"For what?" Loki called after him in confusion.

"For how happy you make her, even in her darkest hours."

If he looked closely, Loki could have almost sworn Freyr's eyes had flashed with magic. Unsure of what to do, he watched the Vanir walk off and disappear from view. He stood up and knocked on the door in attempt to try his luck.

"Freyja? Will you allow me in?"

There was silence to answer his question.

"I do not know if I can be of any assistance, but it is always better to speak of what hurts us than to attempt to heal yourself."

He waited, wondering if she was even listening.

"You do yourself no good by staying in there alone."

"Why do you want to come in so desperately?" he heard a quiet voice ask.

"Because I want to help you."

"No one can help me. No one can change their nature," she said coldly.

"I'm worried for you, as is Freyr."

"Save your worry for someone who deserves it."

"At least tell me what ails you."

"Why?"

He paused before speaking once more, "Because, if it pleases you, I will remain silent through the whole of the ordeal. I can offer no more than that, for there is nothing more to possibly give. I know I cannot mend what wounds you, but I wish to try nonetheless."

Silence filled the emptiness once more and he wondered if he should have said something different. Then, much to his surprise, the door clicked open. Picking up the tray, he walked in and locked it behind him. Loki gaped at the sight that met him.

The usually neat room was in tatters. Furniture had been tossed aside as if in a fit of rage. Books from the usually full shelves that covered most of the walls lay cluttered across the floor, splayed apart in random forms. The once ornate mirror was shattered, pieces lying on the floor like fallen snow. The curtains of the windows were falling off, partially obscuring the light that attempted to penetrate the darkness. In the middle of the chaos was a single blue armchair in which a disheveled Freyja sat, watching the coiling tendrils of her silver aura twist around her thin fingers.

"Decided to redecorate, I see," he muttered.

"I don't understand how I never noticed this before…"

"The need for change?" he asked in confusion.

As he walked closer, he took in her appearance. Her powder blue gown was slightly frayed, as if she had run through a bramble patch and her eyes were both red from crying and dark from sleepless nights. Her face held a slightly haunted look to it. He wondered why she didn't turn to look at him as they spoke.

"I am not what I thought I was," the smoke suddenly turned to silver flames.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

"Tell me what you know of my heritage."

"You are Princess Freyja of Vanaheim. Daughter of Njord and Van, twin sister to Freyr, second in line for the throne, as you are the younger child-"

"Lies," she spat, clenching her hand into a fist around the flames.

The air shook with pent up energy. The tray in his hands rattled, some of the water spilling from the glass. Loki's eyes widened at the display.

"You've lost me once more."

She stood up, carefully avoiding his eyes, and walked through the disarray as if it was not there. She picked up a strange-looking book and opened it to a page near the center. She took the tray from him and replaced it with the book.

"Go ahead, read it. Find out the truth about me."

He looked up worriedly as she placed the tray on a flipped chair. Before she could turn around, he began reading the graceful glyphs that made up the language of her people.

"'Njord returned late in the night, presenting me with a gift of his own. He says she is the daughter of a woman he cared for greatly, a woman who is now dead'."

He stopped in his reading, looking up at Freyja, "Whose journal is this?"

"It was Queen Van's, before she took her own life. Don't stop."

He licked his lips, wondering why she was asking this of him, "'Perhaps this child is the daughter of his sister, a woman he never mentions. She is a beautiful girl, but the aura of magic surrounds her at all times. I have never sensed such power in a child before. He was glad to see me welcome the girl with open arms, and even more thrilled at the sight of his son, but something seems to still weigh heavy on his mind.

"'The girl is a very strange, though lovely, child. She does not cry, even when Freyr screams out for me. She seems far too intelligent for her age and I believe she is half Æsir, for she has eyes so blue they cannot be anything but. When she sleeps, she leans close to either Freyr or I. Even without searching the future, I can see the compassionate woman she will become. I now have both a son and daughter to enjoy.'

"Love, what is this?"

She sat back down in the chair, "It is the undoing of my father's deception. It is Queen Van's confession of my true nature. Skip twenty pages and read until it ends."

He turned to the page she described, "'Lies.'

"'He has lied to me. He has lied to me for as long as Freyr has been alive. I suppose his deceit is a product of my being naïve. A daughter of a woman he cared for, he had said. And not a word of it was false. He cared for the mother greatly. He cared for her and she bore him a child. I have seen the proof in the girl's eyes.'

"'I had decided that she cannot be our niece, as she bears no golden ring in her eyes. I was wrong, yet right. She is not our niece, but she bears the mark of our royalty. She looked into the future not ten minutes before now, and I saw it. When her eyes turned silver, I saw it. She is his daughter, but she is not mine.'

"'Has he lied to me before? When did he begin to keep secrets? Why did he turn to the embrace of another woman? Have I failed him? So many questions without answers to put aside my fears cloud my mind.'

"'One thing I am certain of. He has created a monster. A halfling. There is no other explanation. She is of the Elves. The taint of magic which surrounds her, it must be spells placed upon her to keep the truth hidden. Now that I know, I can see under the illusion. I see the Elven marks. I see the failure of our marriage.'

"'What can I do? I love Njord, yet he does not love me. Does it hurt him to look at my face in the morn and not that of his lover? Perhaps I should remove the face from his sight, to ease his sufferings. Perhaps, in such a way, I will never fail him again. Perhaps Freyr and Freyja will live a better life with a father who is not plagued with a woman he does not love.'

"'I will not cause him pain any longer. I will not cause the children pain over a marriage of lies. I will end all our suffering.'

"You're a blandet rase?"

"Worse," she hissed. "A blandet rase is simply the mix of the races. I am the mix of a Vanir and a race separate from the gods. A monster of unimaginable powers, a creature that is unlawful and shouldn't exist. A halfling.

"More than that, I am the claimed first-born child of Njord. Freyr will never gain the throne because of me. I have unknowingly stolen his greatest wishes. How can I ever explain this without hurting him? If I told him, he would be crushed. I cannot do that to him, and yet he will find out when he attempts to inherit the throne."

She went silent, leaving Loki to think over what she had revealed. He now understood why she refused to allow Freyr in. He could see how deeply the news had hurt her.

"A halfling?" he asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"They are one of our greatest secrets. If a Vanir sires a child with a being that is neither of Asgard or Vanaheim, the child is always a threat. They are born with unique abilities, and become cold-blooded murderers. When one is found, they are destroyed before they endanger the Realms."

"That does not describe you."

"Am I not of two races?"

"You are not a monster, Freyja, nor are you a murderer."

She looked at him, tears brimming at the edges of her strange blue eyes, "I am an abomination."

He walked behind her, discarding the book, and wrapped his arms around her, "No, you are a compassionate, beautiful woman who doesn't deserve such news."

"You only speak of this form I wear as a shield. If you saw what I truly appear as, you would not see me the same way again."

"Your true form cannot be so terrible. I'm sure you are just as beautiful."

"I'm not," she said as she broke his embrace and walked into her bedchamber.

He followed her, taking a seat on her bed across from her, "Show me, and I will prove you wrong."

"No," she said firmly, fear in her eyes.

"Why not?"

"I have watched many Vanir fall in love with Æsir, Loki. They may be perfect together, but disaster strikes when the Asgardian becomes curious about the Vanir's true form. As soon as the Vanir obliges, the Asgardian runs from fright to leave the Vanir heartbroken. It is why you either find Vanir with their own or with Æsir who never see the truth beneath the charade."

"I swear to you, I will not spurn you for such."

"Don't make promises you cannot possibly keep," she said, her voice breaking.

"Please," he whispered. "I love you, Freyja. Nothing could ever change that."

She stiffened at his statement, turning to look at him once more. Before he could continue, darkness seemed to slowly envelope her. Her skin deepened until it was a strange blue-black, just a shade darker than that of the Jötunns. Her red curls straightened, turning a strange iridescent black as if it was made of darkness itself. She grew taller, form thinning until it was almost skeletal, as the angles of her face sharpened.

His eyes widened in shock at the frightening change, causing her to look away with a pained expression. He felt guilt at making her uncomfortable in her own skin so he forced himself to keep a solemn face. The more he looked, the more mesmerizing she seemed to be. It was truly enthralling that her true form was such a mix of otherworldly and enticing. If possible, she seemed even more striking.

"This is your true form?" he asked, slightly breathless.

"With the illusions my father placed upon me, yes."

"What do you look like without the enchantments?"

Her hair suddenly turned a lustrous shade of white-silver and her ears elongated to end in points. She didn't look up as her transformation finished and he realized she thought he was disgusted by it. He wondered how she could think that about herself. He made his way behind her. Without warning, he placed a kiss on her now bare shoulder, as the neckline of the dress had fallen slightly when she grew thinner.

Her eyes snapped to him in surprise, "This form is not abhorrent to you?"

"No," he muttered against her dark skin. "There isn't a single aspect of this form that I find unappealing."

If he had thought her skin was heated on his before, it was burning against his in this form. She allowed him to lean forward to kiss across her collarbone, tracing the delicate line with his tongue. She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he placed open-mouthed kisses across her skin. He worked his way back up, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

"Loki," she whispered, the word spoken as if it was a prayer.

He felt her form begin to shift under him as she began to revert to her Asgardian form.

"Don't," he whispered.

She opened her eyes, confusion clear in them.

"Don't change. Stay like this," he murmured, nuzzling her neck.

"You want me to stay in this form?"

"Yes. Allow me to explain what I see."

She took a shuddering breath as he tore the fabric of her dress down the back, revealing her sheer chemise. He grazed his teeth down her neck as he reached the hollow between her shoulder blades.

"I see a woman with everyone's best interests at heart. A woman who is far too self-sacrificing for her own good, who would put the happiness of her people before that of her own. I see a princess who would die for those she loves, and would happily trade herself away if it meant their safety. She is compassionate, thoughtful, creative and intelligent. It is this that makes you beautiful to me, love, not the skin you wear."

He placed gentle kisses down her spine, causing her to shiver.

"No one should be allowed to hurt you in such a way. No one has the right to call you a monster when you have never hurt anyone in your life. If I could, I would take all of your pain for you. You deserve to be treated as a queen, and nothing less."

She moaned softly as he moved back up to the other side of her neck.

"I am lucky to have you," she whispered.

"No," he replied, kissing her high cheekbone. "I am the lucky one."


Loki couldn't tell exactly how long had passed, but he somehow found it didn't matter. He lay next to Freyja, her back to his chest, feeling elated that her mood had lightened. She had reverted back to her Asgardian form, though she had remained in her true form as he made love to her, and was humming an unfamiliar tune.

"You know," she said suddenly, turning over to face him. "You didn't stay silent as you said you would."

"Did you truly expect me to?"

"I suppose not."

"You look tired."

"I haven't been able to sleep."

"What about now?"

"I don't know," she muttered.

"I could tell you a story."

She smiled, "You never did finish the story of Sun and Moon."

"Do you recall where I left off?"

"Yes, Moon kissed Sun when they crossed paths one day."

"Ah, that's right. Sun was unable to reply to Moon's actions as she had set. However, the next day, Sun confessed that she had often longed for Moon's companionship, but had been afraid to tell him so."

"How did Moon respond?"

"He proposed that they begin courting and she accepted. As they continued their love affair, Moon realized that he greatly needed her. See, he was jealous of his brother, the Sea, even though he loved his brother dearly."

"Why would he feel jealous of his brother when he is intelligent, brave, handsome, witty and original?"

"He was jealous because his brother was everything he wasn't, everything the people below him loved. But it did not matter for when he was with Sun, he forgot all of his anxieties and self-doubt. She made him feel whole, as if no other being had the better of him. She was his strength, just as he was hers on occasion.

"But her father did not approve of Moon, for some reason unknown. Despite her greatest efforts, Sun could not persuade him. And so Moon made her a proposition."

"What was it?"

He leaned into her and whispered, "Run away with me, love. Let us leave all those who would tear us apart behind."

Her eyes widened, "You want to run away?"

"We could go anywhere that pleases you and no one could keep us apart. Think of it, Asgard has Thor and Vanaheim has Freyr. Neither worlds have need of us."

"Where would we go?"

"Anywhere. Alfheim, Midgard, some distant world we could call home."

"What of Freyr? And Thor? And your mother would be saddened to see you leave."

"We could tell them where we are so that they could visit us whenever it pleased them."

"Could you truly leave your home and all you know behind?"

"And what of your home?"

"I have no home," she replied, her voice apathetic.

"Then let us create a home for ourselves elsewhere."

She sighed, "Loki, Asgard needs you. Thor needs you. When Thor becomes king, he will need his brother at his side to aid him in times of need."

"Thor will not need me. He has never needed me."

"No, he has always needed you. He may not enjoy showing it, but he cares for you. You are his opposite, his balance."

"Opposites counteract each other," he pointed out.

"But what is one without the other? They cannot exist separately."

"Is this your way of saying you wish to stay?"

"I want nothing more than to be with you, Loki, but I do not think this is the way to gain such."

"And this satisfies you? Never being able to share your happiness with your loved ones?"

She leaned towards him, resting her face on his chest, "You bring me happiness. What more do I need?"

He stayed silent as she closed her eyes with a smile. But, to himself, he wished he could offer her more. He wanted to offer her everything in his grasp. He would simply have to wait to do so.