Brynja's children were growing so quickly and keeping up with wild-hearted Katja gave her an idea of what it must have been like for Frigga to keep up with her in the years before she was shut up in the walls. Katja was just a few days short of her eighth birthday when Fandral burst into the kitchen and tossed a torn, dirty shirt on the kitchen table where she, Brynja, and Sunny were discussing her birthday plans.
"Fix this for me, wife, for tonight the warriors feast victorious!"
Brynja shoved it aside with her pen, "It needs to be washed before I can properly mend it."
He protested, "No, it will not dry in time."
"Then you will have to find another shirt."
He quickly grew angry, "Perhaps you do not understand, but I fought in this shirt, I won in this shirt, and you will make it ready for me for our victory feast."
"If you expect your wife to work miracles, you should have married a sorcerer," she shot back.
His temper flared, "If you cannot make it ready, I will send you back to your father to live in the walls." He slammed the door behind him as he left the house.
Brynja used the pen to pick up the shirt. She took it to the laundry vat and began to scrub it. After it was clean, she took it outside, her daughters following, and whipped it in the sun.
She turned to the girls, "Don't tell your father I'm going to use a little bit of house magic to dry this. I would rather he believe that he is very very lucky it dried in time." Both children nodded. She muttered a charm and snapped it one more time and the water fell from the fabric in a sheet. She brought the shirt inside and looked at the tears in the fabric. She cursed, "Shit, I hate doing things for that man when he's pissed me off." She turned to the kids again, "I'm just going to do the whole damn thing with house magic. Then we can get back to planning for Katja's birthday, OK?" The children smiled and cheered- they hadn't seen her perform the little household miracles before, but she was tired and knew they wanted, more than anything, to get back to planning the party. She flicked the fabric in each of the places it was strained or torn and they wove themselves back together. She threw the shirt over a chair, "When he comes back, he'll be happy and so will we. Now, Kat, what do you want to do for your birthday dinner? You know you grandmother will be happy to have anything you'd like made."
Katja grinned, "I want to have lots of different pies! And maybe even real dinner food, but mostly pies!"
Brynja laughed, "We will definitely have pies. And what else do you want?"
Katja thought for a moment and her face fell, "I want to hear Uncle Thor's stories, but Father would never allow that, would he?"
Brynja sighed, "No, no he wouldn't. And he'll insist you act like a lady and dress quite fancy for your feast. You know what he thinks."
Katja was glum for a moment, but then brightened, "We'll ask Grandmother to tell stories, then, or Grandfather! Father won't dare to tell either of them not to and I know they must know stories!"
Brynja nodded, "We can ask, but remember that they also both know what your father feels about such things. They are unlikely to completely defy his will."
Katja picked at a spot on the table, "Why does father always have to ruin our fun?"
Brynja had no answer for her.
At Katja's birthday feast, there most certainly were a lot of pies. Frigga had seen to it that any pie the child could think of was sitting on the table waiting for her to sample. Even dinner was served as pies- meat pies, vegetable pies, pies with filling spiced so exotically it was not entirely recognisable as to whether it was meat, vegetable, or something new.
Frigga also raised her glass to toast her granddaughter, winking at her as she said, "May all your dreams come true, my wild-hearted grandchild."
Fandral looked sour as Freyja rose to also give a toast, "Katja, I remember when your mother was your age. She was as independent as you are, possibly even moreso. I was so proud to have her as an apprentice many years later, trusted with helping her find her way in the world. She has always followed her heart, even when it has led her to unexpected places. May you be blessed with the same wanderlust and the same sense of justice and loyalty. With those traits, you will go far, see many incredible places, and feel so deeply that your life will have roots in the most beautiful places." Brynja knew that Freyja's words were not empty. Freyja was, in her own way, telling Fandral to let his daughter be free and that she would be watching. Brynja also knew that Fandral had been in a sour mood all day, to the point where Katja had outright asked him if he was angry that she had not been born a boy. He had not answered her and she had taken that as a yes, crying for hours after into her mother's dress.
Sunny, ever quiet, ever watching, was on alert at the feast, watching everyone, watching her father's reactions. She knew something would go horribly wrong, no matter how hard everyone tried to make Katja feel like a queen.
After dinner, they tucked into the desert pies and Frigga once again stood, "Ladies and gentlemen, I have heard that our birthday girl has a love of stories. I have one of my own to tell. I was not trained to be a great warrior during my youth, but I do know how to handle a sword. This story took place long after my childhood. Loki sat imprisoned for crimes against Midgard. There were dark forces gathering against us. Malekith waged war against Asgard, the prisoners were released, and I alone stood between Malekith and Jane, Thor's love, who had been infected with the Aether. I had a plan, though, to hide the girl, use my own powers of illusion to make it seem as though she was with me, and confront anyone who attacked us. I took a sword from a passing guard- no one would dare tell me no at that most desperate hour. I hid the girl and retreated to my chambers, knowing Malekith would find me. He did and we did fight. He thought he had the upper hand, but it was clear he had never fought a queen of Asgard and I had him, pinned, my blade to his thoat before one of his men, contorted by wickedness, slipped behind me and put a blade to my back. I refused to tell where Jane was, and for that, I met my death. The girl was safe, though, because I did not wimper and beg for my life, trading hers for mine. I died keeping my secrets, as do the warriors of Asgard. While you have a warrior king, be assured your queen aspires to such skill in fighting and wisdom in rule as well."
Around the table, glasses were raised to Queen Frigga. Fandral glowered at Katja as she enthusiastically took part in the ritual. Sunny sat tense, watching. She edged closer to her mother.
Thor raised a glass and made his own toast, "To Asgard's brave, whether it be bravery in battle or bravery of heart and spirit." He nodded to Brynja as everyone drank from their cups. She smiled and acknowledged his tribute.
Frigga toasted, "To all my children and grandchildren, wherever they may be- may you all be lights to all the worlds." Everyone at the table knew she was including Loki in her toast- she always included him when she spoke of her children. Everyone still drank, albeit a little more quietly, as they did not want to insult their queen. Frigga's eyes met Brynja's and they raised their glasses towards one another, a silent recognition of loss.
At that, Fandral rose, grabbed Katja's arm, and told her they were leaving; he turned to Brynja, "All of us are leaving. It is late. The girls are tired." Katja started to protest, but her father spoke over her, "No, child, you are tired."
While Fandral dragged a reluctant Katja to the door, Brynja led Sunny to stand before Odin and Frigga; she bowed and Sunny followed suit, "Thank you, Mother, Father, for this lovely party. We have truly had a beautiful time tonight celebrating Katja's birthday." Odin clasped her hand in acknowledgement and Frigga rose to hug her and to hug Sunny.
Fandral called from the door, "Come, dear, the children need to be in bed." He did not speak to her again until they were in their home, "Get to bed, girls. Your mother and I need to talk."
Brynja steeled herself for the pending storm after hugging both her daughters and sending them to bed. She knew what was coming. The chastisement for Frigga's story, for allowing Katja to cheer for it, for her participation in Frigga's toast.
"Brynja, how many times do I have to tell you that these girls are not to think they are going to be warriors? Frigga basically told them, in front of everyone, that they can be great defenders of others, something I have expressly forbidden. They are not to have their heads filled with such ridiculous notions! Frigga is a queen, she is something different, something these girls will never be."
She sighed, "Mother also has a mind of her own and I dare you to tell her what she can and cannot tell her grandchildren about her own life. She will not take kindly to it, I can guarantee it."
He shot back, "Then you and the children are forbidden from seeing her if she cannot hold her tongue."
Brynja's face hardened, "You will not tell me that I can't see my own mother."
"I can, and I will, tell you who you are to see. For that matter, you aren't to leave the house- I know that you and Frigga were raising glasses to that Traitor during the final toast- don't try to act like he's some kind of repentant, he deserved everything we did to him! No more visits to Freyja, either. Who knows what that witch puts in your head or what she shows you with her spells. You cannot raise our children as I see fit, you will not be allowed to visit outsiders until you can figure out just where your place is, wife."
She took a deep breath and tried to pull her temper under control, "If you don't stop talking, I'm going to lose it, Fandral. Just stop, before you push me too far."
He yelled, "How DARE you tell me how to behave in my own home!" He slapped her. She did not stagger, she did not fall, she glared at him and muttered under her breath. "Speak up so I can tell if I need to do that again," he commanded.
"Oh, gladly..." She spoke again, in a language he did not understand, clearly and loudly. He tried to slap her again and his hand hit a barrier as solid as rock. She heard the bones in his hand crack, "If you dare touch me again, far worse things will happen than a broken hand," she hissed.
He clenched his hand to his chest and swore before storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him.
Brynja went to check on her daughters, her cheek still stinging. They were both huddled together in bed, Katja still crying and Sunny stroking her hair.
Sunny spoke first, "I really don't like Father anymore. I don't want to stay here, especially if we can't go visiting."
Katja wailed, "He ruined my birthday! I only get one a year and he ruined it!"
Brynja sat down on the bed and gathered the girls close, "I know, loves, I know. We're not going to stay. Gather a few of your things- the belongings you hold most dear, and we'll leave tonight." Someone knocked on the front door, "Who could that be?"
She answered it and a young messenger stood on the other side, "Excuse me, there's a letter here addressed to Brynja. My master said I was to deliver it only to Fandral, though?"
"This is his home. I will see that he gets it."
The young man sighed, "Oh, thank you, miss. I'm just a fill-in while the other man is sick. I don't know how the usual man does this."
She tipped the messenger well, "Just keep it quiet that you handed it to me instead, OK? I don't want you getting in trouble or anything."
He nodded enthusiastically, "Of course, miss. Mum's the word," before walking into the night.
Brynja closed the door and locked it, bringing the letter to the chidren's bedroom. She knew the handwriting intimately well and her hands were shaking as she opened the letter.
Sunny noticed, "What's wrong, Mother?"
Katja heard her sister and pulled her tear-dampened face out of her pillow, "Mother? Who is it from?"
Brynja skimmed the letter to the end, "Loki, it's from Loki."
Both girls were silent for a moment before Katja spoke, "But I thought he was a traitor. Why would he write to you?"
Brynja read the letter out loud as her answer, "Dearest Bryn. It has been nearly ten years since I have heard from you and I worry greatly about your well-being. I have been writing to you at least once a year since you were pulled home to Asgard, often considerably more frequently. I have heard nothing of your fate. I do not know if you are even yet living and I hope your silence all these years does not mean that some ill fate has befallen you. I understand if you are still too angry to speak to me, though I would still very much like to hear from you, even if all you do is chastise me for my mistakes and weaknesses- I would deserve no less. Life in Jotunheim wouldn't be entirely terrible if not for the continual political balancing act that I do to keep us from both descending into civil war and from striking out at Asgard and, of course, for the fact that I miss you greatly, every day.
"I have rediscovered your books. It has been far too long since I had time to read. I hope that you have seen all the places you wrote about in the picture-book of Midgard, New Zealand most of all. I hope you have been so busy travelling that you have not been home to receive my letters and that life is so full of joy that you have entirely forgotten your miserable Jotun prince. Please know, though, that I have not forgotten you, nor do I think I ever could- not after all you have done for me and all we have been through in our all-too-short time together. I still think fondly of the first time we curled up together beneath my blankets after I lost all hope and you brought my soul away from the proverbial ledge. I remember your Witchery and the moment you trusted me to use it to heal you. Your kiss lingers on my cheek from when you saw me in my Jotun form. I would give up everything I have been given here to have you beside me still.
"If you ever do find a way to visit my realm, your room awaits. It took me far too long to realise just how much I still need you, but ever since I did, your absence has stung far greater than any wound I have ever received, even the one you saw nearly kill me. I readied your room for you should you ever return and it waits far more patiently than I ever could. Your gowns still hang in the wardrobe, your books on the dresser, and your bed neatly made- I even order the blankets shaken out and the bed re-dressed every week to make sure it does not get dusty and is always ready should you return.
"Please, Bryn, write to me. Let me know you are safe. I need to know at least that much. And if Brynja has passed and someone else is reading this letter, please tell me so that I might mourn the loss of my beloved friend.
"Ever yours, Loki."
Sunny was the first to speak, "He doesn't sound like the horrible person Father speaks of him as."
Katja added, "Or like he's some kind of crazy monster. It sounds like he really misses you, Mother. Why did you leave him?"
Brynja stared at the letter, "I didn't leave willingly, Katja. I was part of a bargain with your grandfather. He broke the deal we made, I was brought back here." She read the letter again, "He's been writing for years...where are all the other letters?" The words of the messenger hit her, "My god, Fandral's been hiding them from me." She bolted from the room to his study, a room she had been forbidden from entering. She looked around; there was very little in the room. A stand for his armor, a table for polishing armor and weapons, and trophies brought back from conquests hanging on the walls or on shelves. She did not see any place where he could have been hiding them. Her heart sank as she realised he may have been throwing them away as they came.
Sunny slipped past her and walked to the polishing table, "Look under here, he's got a secret compartment in the floor. I've seen it."
Brynja dropped to her knees and felt around for the edges of the door and found them quickly, hidden by nothing more than the shadows under the desk. She quickly found the ring, lifted the door, and saw a pile of papers within. She pulled the entire stack out, tossing everything in the wrong handwriting back into the hidden compartment. She did not care that they seemed to be letters from other women. The most important things to her were the letters in Loki's handwriting, all ten years of them. Her daughters helped her carry them into their bedroom after she shut the secret door and closed up Fandral's study.
Katja looked at the huge pile on the bed, "How are you going to read all these without Father noticing?"
Brynja did not answer. She went into her bedroom, grabbed her duffel bag, which she had not touched since her wedding day, and brought it to her children's bedroom. She then returned to her bedroom and tugged out the fine trunks her mother had sent over the gowns and jewellery in and hurridly packed everything. Sunny and Katja helped, knowing that everything in their lives was about to change. Brynja scrawled a note on a scrap of paper, folded it, and threw it out the window. It turned into a bird and fluttered off. She finished packing one trunk and began on the next. It did not take very long for the three of them to finish packing up Frigga's gifted finery.
Not long after they finished, someone knocked on the door in a distinct pattern and Brynja answered, greeting two strong young women and Frejya between them, "You called?"
Brynja nodded, "I need my husband to stay away tonight and I need to talk to you immediately. Secure the house. We can have no one listening."
Frejya gestured for her guards to patrol and chanted something that briefly illuminated the house and then faded away, "We will have no unwanted visitors." She stepped inside and greeted the two children before continuing, "Brynja, you look as though you've discovered something terrible. Speak, child."
Brynja took a deep breath, "Loki's been writing to me ever since I left and tonight I got the first letter I've seen of all of them. Fandral's been hiding them. Sunny knew where her father had a hiding place and now I have them all...so many letters, there have got to be at least a hundred there. They were tucked in with letters from women. I don't really care about them, though, just about the letters from Loki that he's been hiding."
Freyja's eyes narrowed, "I don't suppose the bruise on your face has anything to do with this, either?"
Brynja dropped her eyes to the floor, "Yes, it does. It has everything to do with it. He was furious that Frigga chose to empower my children with stories of her might. He was furious that Thor would dare toast to bravery in women. The toast that included Loki was the end of it. I can't say he got away unscathed, though, I did break his hand in retaliation."
Frejya patted Brynja's arm, "That's my girl. Now, what is your plan?"
"We're leaving. He forbade me from visiting anyone at all. I'm done. I have the same wanderlust now as I did years ago and my children deserve better than this. They deserve a chance to be warriors in their own ways. I've packed the gowns and jewellery Mother gifted me. I need you to make sure those get back to her tonight. I need to go pack the children's things without worrying that he's going to come in the door. I need a place to stay tonight."
Freyja nodded, "Go pack. I will take you to my hall in this city and my guards will deliver the trunks. This match was bad from the beginning and I admire that you were willing to try, but it's over. I think even your father can figure that out."
Brynja had turned to go to the girls' room and then stopped abruptly, "Shit, what am I going to tell Father?"
Freyja shook her head and gently pushed Brynja towards the door, "Nope, you're not thinking about that right now. Go on. Pack. If I have to, I will deal with your father. There are bigger things for you to do right now, though."
When Brynja stepped through the door to her daughters' room, she was surprised to find Sunny instructing Katja that she really only needed three or four changes of clothes, things could be washed in rotation, and if she hated everything else she owned, she could just leave it, it was fine. Katja dropped a pile of clothes on the bed next to the pile of letters. Sunny followed her over. Katja looked at the collection of fine dolls and gilded toys and then walked past them to her battered cloth doll that sat in an intricately carved wooden rocking chair. Sunny chose a pillow that Thor and Jane had sent her from Midgard that had the words to You Are My Sunshine embroidered on it in the shape of sunbeams.
Katja looked up at her mother, "So what are we packing this all in?"
Brynja opened her duffel bag and and pulled out her leather jacket before shoving everything left in it down, "I think we can fit your clothes in here. Not your cloaks and outerwear, mind you, but I think what is on the bed will fit." She showed them how to roll their clothes so they fit more snugly together and piece by piece, they packed them into her bag. She sent them off to find their cloaks, shoes, and boots while she stared at the pile of letters, trying to think of how to pack them.
Freyja saw her staring at the pile of letters as the girls gathered their outerwear, "I can carry those if you'd like."
Brynja shook her head, "No...I mean, thank you, but I've not held anything of his in so long, I don't want to let them go."
Freyja smiled, "Of course. Do you still have the bag you carried the little ones' diapers in?"
Brynja's eyes lit up, "Yes! It's in the sewing room." She dashed off to find it as Katja and Sunny brought in their cloaks, boots, and shoes.
Katja wasted no time putting on her cloak and boots, "Where'd Mother run off to?"
Sunny's question overlapped, "Did she find something to put her letters in?"
Freyja nodded, "Yes, she thought of something, and that's what she's gone to get. She'll be back in a moment."
Katja pulled her cloak closed around her, "I hope she gets back soon. I want to be gone by the time Father decides to come home."
Sunny nodded, "I know I'm not supposed to feel like this, but I don't want to see him for a very long time."
Brynja entered the room, the quilted bag in one hand and a small sewing kit in the other, "We're not taking many clothes, I need the means to repair them." She stuffed the kit in the bottom of the bag and carefully gathered the letters, setting them in the bag in neat stacks. She looked around the room and under the children's bed to make sure none had escaped her, "I think we're packed."
Freyja gestured her to the door, "Then let us get ready to leave. You need your cloak. Is there anything else in the house you want to bring with you?"
Brynja shook her head as she donned her leather jacket, "No. I don't want him to accuse me of stealing anything."
Freyja watched Brynja swing her cloak around her shoulders over the jacket- it was a light one, not the same one she had seen Brynja take to Jotunheim so many years ago, "I encourage you to walk through the house one last time, just to be sure."
Brynja left the girls with Freyja and did as she asked returning without anything new in her hands, "Nope, but I do need to make sure Mother's dresses and jewels get back to her."
Freyja raised her hand and moved her fingers in an odd pattern- her guards entered the house and bowed briefly, "There are two trunks here that must be returned tonight to Queen Frigga. Deliver them directly to her."
Brynja showed them the trunks and they left silently, their footsteps hardly audible as they slipped into the shadows. She slung her duffel bag over one shoulder, hung the bag of letters on the other, and slipped her shoes on. Her children were ready to go, each carrying their shoes and their special toys, and she held their hands as they stepped out of the house. She muttered a spell and the lamps inside went dark. She did not look back, nor did Freyja.
Not long after, Freyja's two guards slipped into Odin's palace and quietly made their way through the halls, nodding to the guards they met along the way. No one stopped them, they knew who the two fierce young women worked for. They paused outside of Frigga's chamber and waited. It was not long before the Queen met them at the door.
She looked at the trunks between them, "What does Freyja have you bring me?"
One of the women spoke, "Your daughter asked that these be delivered to you tonight. She is with Freyja and you can ask her questions come morning. Tonight, she and the children sleep."
Frigga gestured for them to bring in the trunks and they left briskly after having done so. Curious, she opened the trunks. Brynja's gowns. The jewellery. Frigga quickly understood what it meant. Brynja would have no need for them, wherever she was going, but she was going.
By the time Frigga opened the trunks, Brynja, Katja, and Sunny were settling into one of Freyja's guest rooms. She bid them goodnight and reminded Brynja how to find her chambers in case they needed anything during the night. She also assured them that if Fandral came calling, he would not enter her gates. She had made sure her guards understood that fact very clearly. Brynja felt safe in this house. She always had. She curled up with her daughters on a down mattress and it did not take long for all three of them to fall into deep sleep.