Author's Note: This was my favorite chapter to write. I think it's just going to get better from here if I can get my ideas to work.
Chapter Eighteen: Back to Asgard
"You want to get back to Asgard?"
Skurge didn't trust these bandits and bounty hunters whose faces were obscured clearly for secrecy, but he didn't have options now did he? He knew his Amora was back on Asgard. He hoped for the best. He hoped she escaped or at the very least imprisoned. The worst case scenario was something he didn't even want to consider. He needed to get there as soon as possible.
"Yes," he answered.
"You're not the only one who wants Thor dead," one of the bounty hunters snickered. "You can kill him for all we care, but we take his head to collect."
"Fine by me."
"We have to find a realm tear. Let's go," one of the bandits said.
X
The first thing she noticed when she awoke was that her head hurt, and the lights were too bright. She groaned irritably and strung one of her arms over her eyes.
"You're awake."
Was that Baldur? She sat up and opened her eyes. She needed to adjust, but even through blurry vision she saw her friend. Despite feeling rather dizzy and overall like garbage, she leapt off the table and into his embrace. She felt arms wrap around as he steadied himself, and she smiled into his neck, absolutely elated as her head spun. She truly, in her heart of hearts, thought she would never see him again. She thought he wouldn't care to see her again, forget about her, but no it seemed the universe was determined to have her back on Asgard. This, she could see him again.
"I've missed you," she said, surprised at how vulnerable she sounded.
"I've missed you too."
"Awww," she heard a woman's voice coo sincerely.
And, that was when her bubble burst. She realized that they weren't alone, and this was a little embarrassing for her. She released him, stepped back, and crossed her arms over her chest. Then, she looked at who was present. There was a woman who was dispelling some healing magic along with her nurses. Well, that was a little embarrassing.
"What's wrong with Freyja?" Baldur asked.
"It's my chakras, right?" Freyja asked. "They're out of whack, right? Is there a blockage?"
She was far from a balanced person. It felt as if things, in many regards, have gotten worse. It could be more than one chakra blocked. That would explain why she kept passing out and having trouble conjuring magic. She understood the risks of having a spiritual awakening and practicing magic. One of them is having magic affect your physical form a lot more intensely due to magic affecting your entire life. It wasn't always the best trade off, but her third eye was open, and she wouldn't close it.
"It does seem to be a chakra and spiritual problem," she said.
She felt a hand touch the center of her shoulder blades and rub gently there. Normally, she didn't care for comfort. Most of the time, it came with bad intentions and ulterior motives. And, if he was a stranger, she wouldn't like it to begin with, but he had been a good friend. She allowed it.
"What do you recommend?" she asked.
"Find the source. I can pour some substance on your skin, and it will show the color of the chakra that's blocked."
"Okay."
The blonde woman with green eyes and a heart shaped face came back with a vial and a smile. Now that she had a chance to take in the environment and relax a little, she kind of recognized her. Something seemed familiar about her that Freyja couldn't quite place.
Just as the woman poured the liquid onto her palm, Freyja asked, "What's your name?"
"Eir. Hmm, it turned green and indigo, meaning your heart chakra and your third eye are blocked. It would explain the passing out and the inconsistency with your magic."
"If I was back on Vanaheim, I could soak in the spiritual pools," Freyja said bitterly. "Any ideas what could've caused the blockage?"
"Perhaps, it has to do with your childhood friend, Loki. Maybe, subconsciously, you know he's on trial for his life and—"
"What? That's happening right now?!"
"Y-yes."
It felt as if her heart dropped out of her body. She ran out of the room and towards the throne room. She slid across the hallways, not slowing down on the turns. She was out of breath, panting harshly as she threw the large double doors open.
"Lo—"
A soft gasp left her when two guards grabbed her by her arms and dragged her out of the throne room. She thrashed and tried to escape. She had to make sure her friend was okay. How could they do this to her? Let her defend her friend's life!
"Let me go! I have to make sure he's okay!" she shouted.
"The Allfather said to keep you away from Prince Loki," one of them said coldly.
"Loki!" she shouted.
Again, she was dragged back to the medical ward and thrown in with a locked door. She pounded on the door angrily, and then dropped to the floor when it wouldn't budge. She buried her face into her hands and sobbed in frustration. She felt Baldur's arms wrap around her and rub her arms gently. She leaned into the comforting hold and buried her face into his neck.
"Freyja, you're shaking," he said.
She wasn't ready to say goodbye to Loki. Yes, she was hurt and angry with him about what he did a year ago and what happened on Earth, but she couldn't leave it like that. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to her oldest friend. Last time, they spoke, they were fighting. She couldn't leave it like that.
"You're burning up."
"I don't want to say goodbye to him," she said.
"Bring her back to the table."
A small gasp escaped her when she was lifted by her friend. Why was the world dizzy again? Why was her vision blurry? Why did it feel like a thousand degrees here?
She was back on the table, staring at the ceiling. That was until she saw Baldur and Eir standing above her with concern in their eyes. They were hazy, and it felt as if their words were muffled. It felt as if her head was under hot water.
"… more serious… cure… Loki," Eir said.
Huh?
She felt a kiss on her forehead as a hand stroked her cheek. She could see the love and concern in Baldur's eyes as her vision finally gained some kind of focus.
X
"Lok—"
He turned around to see if she really was there. She was! But several guards grabbed her by the arms and dragged her out, shutting the large wooden doors. He only got a glimpse.
"Freyja, wh—"
The chain, held by one of the guards, yanked his head back towards the Allfather. He glowered.
"That is the last time you will ever see her again," he said. "You are to live out your days in the dungeon."
"And what? Marry her off to Thor while that witless oaf becomes king?"
"Not Thor," he said. "Freyja has been responsible for curing and bringing back my eldest son, Baldur. The treaty states she'll be marrying the crown prince, not you."
Loki scoffed with an incredulous smirk on his face, "More lies from you, Allfather."
What will Odin not cover up or banish to get what he wished for? The disgust and contempt was unmatched in Loki. Perhaps, only Freyja came close. Odin was attempting to marry her to someone who wasn't him and keep her here forever. He couldn't let it happen. He couldn't let one of his brothers have her instead of him. He adored her since they were children before her transformation. Thor certainly didn't deserve her, and he hadn't met Baldur, but he already deemed him unfit to be his friend's husband. Only Loki deserved the throne. No one else was worthy. Just him.
"I'm simply trying to spare you and your brother pain. It wouldn't have benefited either of you to know you had a brother whom you may never meet. It seemed my efforts were wasted," Odin said. "Stones and glass houses, Loki. You are known for your lies."
"Never malicious until recently," he said with a curl of his lip. "I don't understand why you can't let bygones be bygones."
"Do you not understand the gravity of what you did on Earth?"
"I'm just living in your image. The lives you and Borr took to conquer the nine realms were momentous compared to what I took on Earth. I merely wish to take what was promised to me from birth."
"Your birthright was to die! If it wasn't for me, you'd have died on a frozen rock, and you wouldn't be here now to hate me. Take him to the dungeon."
Loki scoffed as the guards grabbed him. The coldness and disdain in his 'father's' eyes and face hurt him in a way he didn't think the old man was capable of anymore. He walked along to the cold dungeons. It seemed he wasn't the only one who was angry about being deemed a criminal of Asgard. There were a variety of races from the nine realms, and all of them looked very vicious. He was amongst the collection of people on Odin's shit list. Fine by him, more people to potentially manipulate.
He was thrown into the glass cell, uncuffed, and then left alone to his own devices. He glowered at the door as he rubbed his neck and wrists. He wasn't against chains but not in this context. He looked around. It was nicer than what the others got. He had a bed, a chaise lounge, food, and a bookshelf. Though, it was quite the downgrade from his spacious, well furnished bedchambers with a roaring fireplace. It disgusted him that he was subjected to these quarters. He deserved better than this.
As he flopped down against the chaise lounge, he caught sight of a young woman. She was laying on her side, wearing rags that hardly covered anything. His eyes followed up from her bare feet along her curvaceous contours of her body until a mop of blonde hair. She was a short, cute thing. He regarded her curiously, wondering if she'd lift her head for him. He kept watching her until she eventually did.
He almost choked.
X
"Forever may the mead and the women be as abundant as they are tonight!" Volstagg shouted with his horn held high as the guests roared with delight.
She didn't wish to be here. The only small reprieve was that Loki wasn't dead but imprisoned. It took some weight off her conscious. She was hoping Odin would show mercy and declare her free to leave, but of course this was the night Thor and his warrior buddies decided it was time to come back to Asgard, and thus time for the celebration. She'd heard the stories of the men coming back and celebrating for weeks on end. Would she be subjected to wait or participate during these long parties? It sounded exhausting.
The music began to play, a jaunty lute and invigorating drum percussion. Men started downing in their mead from the horns of slayed beasts as they made grabs at the women. She noticed new faces. Did some men come back with women from the conqu– liberated realms? It was the same drum beat with them. They pillage and then steal women to be their wives against their wishes. Death or forced marriage in a foreign realm? It's not an easy choice. And, the Æsir can't understand why she's so reluctant to marry since it'll be a crown prince. What greater privilege for a woman than to bare future heirs? But she wasn't some war prize even if the universe tries to make her one.
She was still standing at the edge, picking the food that wasn't skewered alive. The party wasn't much of anything. Everyone was getting sloppy drunk and writhing on the dance floor. It was a proxy origy at best. It was no fun for someone who didn't think this was worth celebrating especially when she didn't exactly like the party goers. If Loki, whomst she found out was imprisoned, were here, they'd liven this place up. Though, Baldur invited her, thinking this would help her relax. However, he was taking forever getting a drink for both of them.
Eventually, he came over with a smile on his face with two horns in either of his hands. She returned a wry smile and took a horn. He looked as if he wanted to do cheers, but she didn't even bother as she quickly sculled the mead. She watched over the brim as her friend's eyes widened. When it was empty, she turned it over and nothing dripped out of it. The surprise on his face was amusing.
She chuckled darkly.
She could feel the effects of it begin to color the edges of her mind. It felt good. She was feeling a little looser. Maybe Baldur was right, and this was what she needed. She was stressed out this past year. She felt like she was dancing on the knife's edge because she defied Asgard and hung out in Midgard. Even on Midgard when she wasn't being attacked by a hit man, she was constantly told to either lose or gain weight in the wonderful modeling industry of Manhattan. Baldur, thankfully, never contributed to that. Honestly, if she didn't have him around during the last year, she would've lost her mind. She was sure of it.
"I need more drinks," she said.
"Are you planning to get drunk tonight?" he chuckled, giving her that ridiculously dazzling that made her heart skip.
Could she be with an Odinson? He was now the heir to the throne for being the eldest son of the Allfather. If the two of them became an item, it would be expected for them to get married and produce other heirs.
She sculled another horn of mead.
Could she do it? She really liked him. He was kind, intelligent, composed, sensitive, artistic, attractive. If he wasn't an Æsir, but an Æsir crown prince especially, she would. That kiss they shared was good – brief but good.
Baldur grasped her waist and spun her around. She was surprised as she looked at him from the side. Then, he spun her out and pulled her back into him. She swayed with him as his chin rested atop her head and her back rested against his torso. They swayed.
She looked at the crowd and saw Thor. Apparently, he'd been watching her for some time given the look on his face. The intensity was jarring when they caught eyes. She knew what longing looked like. He didn't even bother to look at the woman tugging at his arm for his attention. What? Were the women in the other realms, or even Asgard, not good enough for him? What's wrong with being with someone who reciprocates your feelings? She supposed it wouldn't be a challenge then. He just had to chase that dragon. She assumed it was to inflate his ego and satisfy that pride and vanity within him since she was being difficult. He could be happy if he was realistic and appreciated who actually cared for him. He could say he wanted to be friends all he wanted, but the puppy love was written across his face.
She looked away quickly, letting out an uncomfortable, small breath as she tucked a stray lock behind her ear. He was expecting her to believe he'd be satisfied just being friends. Please. She'd heard men complain all the time about what the Midgardians claim as the 'friend zone'.
"I think he's jealous," Baldur said.
"Oh well," she said. "He said he wanted to be friends. I suppose he was lying."
"You can't expect him to get over you that quickly," he said.
"It's puppy love," she said. "It doesn't come from something real."
"You don't know that for sure."
She turned around in his arms and looked up into his face. His face was somewhat pleasant and neutral. Perhaps, he was just trying to be nice to his newfound brother, whomst he hadn't met until very recently, but he didn't know Thor like she did. Norns, she was tired of Thor taking up space in her head.
"Let's stop talking about Thor," she said, rising to her tiptoes, and wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Okay."
He then grasped her waist and spun her around the dance floor. Her legs dangled, and she found herself laughing softly to herself. Yeah, she was a little looser with a couple in her, but she was enjoying herself. Though she didn't like partying with everyone else, she adored Baldur and the booze was good. She could dance with him for a little while.
When he spun her out, she ended up in front of a refreshment table. She picked up another horn of mead. Again, tonight, she caught eyes with Thor across the room. He was speaking with the Warrior's Three and holding a horn too. She acknowledged him with a nod and after a moment he nodded back. She raised her horn, and he did too. He seemed to be sipping tonight, but she sculled it. When it was empty, she turned it over and smirked at the astounded look on his face. Yeah, she knew how to drink.
She threw the empty horn somewhere she didn't care about just as Baldur grasped her arm again. She laughed deeply as they continued to dance. She would forget. Tonight, she would forget that her childhood best friend was in prison. She would forget that she was in Asgard. She would forget that she would probably have to go through with marriage. She would forget that her brother and father were worried. She would forget that her chakras were fucked. She would just forget. That was that.
Through her hazy brain, she noticed that people were shouting and cheering around them. What was going on?
"Scull! Scull! Scull! Scull! Scull! Scull!"
Oh. She took another horn of mead, sculling quickly, just noticing that she was in competition with some burly warrior. And, she was winning. Good. When she finished, she slammed the horn upside down. The warrior spluttered his drink, lost his balance, and fell over. She chuckled darkly as the crowd laughed and jeered.
The need to pee was ignored too long. She needed to go and find the restroom. She pulled away from the crowd and wobbled around and out of the great hall. She looked around, and all she found was more giant columns and foliage. Hmm, was anyone watching? She was considering squatting in one of the plants.
"Freyja!"
She turned around just in time to see it was Thor who grabbed her into a big hug, lifted her, and spun her around. She stiffened in his embrace and when he let her down she took a few woozy steps back. She readjusted herself as he grinned down at her. Then, he held her face with both hands and kissed her on the forehead without preamble. She wiggled out of his grasp, fell back on her butt, and frowned at him.
"What? Am I bothering you?" he said somewhat playfully.
"Yes," she said in a short, incredulous sound.
He offered her a hand to which she took.
"What did Eir say about your fainting?"
"Pft, fainting," she scoffed, frowning. "I'm going to my chambers."
She saw a frown appear on his handsome face before she began walking away. Well, stumbling actually.
"Or, are you going to visit Loki in his cell?"
She stiffened and came to a stop. How did he know that? Did she mutter something she shouldn't have. She didn't think she did so. Was she beginning to get so obvious that a simple guy like Thor could figure it out?
She turned to face him and slurred, "What of it?"
"Our Allfather forbade—"
"Your Allfather," she corrected, feeling the anger mount, "I'm not an Asgardian for one. Two, hic, if I choose to visit my friend, then I will visit him."
He closed the distance, looking confused. She knew they had a major falling out, but they're still brothers. Shouldn't he still have some sort of compassion for him? Did he really want him to rot in a cell? Considering what Thor had done to the frost giants, he really should be in a neighboring cell beside Loki if they wanted to be technical about it.
"You know what he's done, and what he's done to you. Why do you still care for him?"
She looked him in the eyes, unwaveringly. "I know you've always been loved by everyone, so you don't understand this. When you're ugly and somebody loves you, then you know they love you for you. And, you can't help loving them even if you become pretty because they saw you for you at your lowest."
Her voice was getting angrier and angrier. Damn, her head was beginning to hurt, and she needed to pee.
"You love him?"
She was floored. Did she say that? Well, if she did she meant it in a platonic way. She didn't think she could ever trust him enough to love him beyond that. And, she didn't trust herself with that kind of love.
When she looked up at Thor again, she could see the hurt in his eyes. It was painful to look at, so she quickly averted her eyes. She didn't try to make him like her. He just did. And, she hasn't been leading him on. She was honest from the jump. So why did she feel bad for him when he believed she was in love with his brother?
"As a friend. I love him as a friend," she explained, huffing softly. "Goodnight."
She quickly walked away, stumbling badly. The world was fuzzy and everything was dizzy. No, damnit Thor, did he truly kill her buzz? She let out a frustrated sound when she was struggling to continue to walk forward. Work legs, work!
"Freyja, calm down, I'm taking you to your chambers."
"No!"
"You can't visit Loki!"
She began thrashing and yelling. She needed to see him. She had to know if he was okay. Norns, let her see if her friend was okay!
"Let me go!"
"Ow!"
She realized she had bit his hand. She was becoming so feral, but who do you blame? Do you blame the people who made her feral? Or do you blame her for being feral?
"Hey, what's going on?"
"She wants to visit Loki," Thor said breathlessly.
Who was it? Who was here to help Thor? Dammit, just leave her alone.
Large, gentle hands grasped her face. They were warm and familiar. They gently lifted her face, and her eyes were so bleary but she could see through it a little. She recognized that sandy blond hair and concerned eyes.
"B-Baldur?"
"You need sleep and water," he said. "We can talk about this in the morning."
"What?"
The fight left her body. She was just tired and sad. She relaxed so much that her body went limp. If Thor hadn't restrained her, she would've face planted. She just wanted to crawl up in her bed and die of embarrassment and misery.
"I'll take her to her chambers. I'll keep an eye out on her," he said.
"Why you?"
She groaned. She didn't want to be present for their testerone poisoned fighting. She didn't want to be in the middle of their arguments. She just wanted to… to…
"Bleugghghgh!"
Maybe, Thor will just agree now. She closed her eyes as her perspective changed once more. She whined pitifully, feeling gross from the fall out of the vomiting. She struggled weakly, wanting to do this herself. But, Baldur shushed her gently.
And that was the last thing she remembered about that night.
The morning after drinking was shit. Her head was pounding like a hammer, and her eyes were swimming and having trouble adjusting to the painful light streaming through the window. She groaned. She was embarrassed and angry with herself. She took the pillow and put it around her head and eyes. She wanted to scream, so she did.
She was aware of Havi's distressed sounds and attempts to comfort her, but it was like droplets in a river.
Norns, how did her life turn out like this? She was stuck back on Asgard, her friend was in prison, and she was most likely going to have to marry one of the Æsir princes to be a broodmare. Not to mention, her chakras were so out of balance, her magic was fucked too. Maybe, Odin would be merciful and not marry her off, but she wasn't going to escape Asgard. She didn't know how to escape it. She screamed some more in the pillow.
Eventually, she got tired of it. She threw the pillow away and rolled away. She saw what looked to be hot coffee and downed it without hesitation. She slipped out of bed and stumbled a little. After a stretch and several pops of her back, she shuffled to the attached bathroom. She didn't vomit this time, but she peed. She then washed her face with cold water to try and liven herself up a bit.
She was terrified to look up into the mirror. She was angry at her stupid appearance. She wished she was average looking, hell, right now she wished she was ugly again. She was so mad at how the world treated, especially that modeling accursed industry, her that she could scream all over again.
You're too fat.
You're too skinny.
Maybe, she needs a nose job.
Go to the gym.
Too short.
Ugly.
Ugly!
UGLY!
Impulsively, Freyja picked up the hair brush and threw it at the mirror. It shattered of course. Only when the shards littered the sink, counter, and floor did she realize the ridiculous and violent thing that she just did. Havi was crying, and she felt like a monster. With shaking limbs, she hugged him.
What was wrong with her? There was definitely merit to the chakra and spiritual issue shown by Eir's test. What was she to do? Her head was hurting so much. The hangover was making this far worse. She felt as if she was losing her mind, her sanity. Her self loathing felt almost as bad as her lowest point. She ended up flopping down face first into the bed as Havi curled on her back and tried to purr for some comfort. She had to wait for the pounding in her head to cease. Then, she would try to do some soul searching.
X
"Where's Freyja?" Thor asked.
Baldur looked up curiously from his oatmeal and fruit. Thor couldn't curve the jealousy. His older brother whomst he didn't know about until very recently was the crown prince, heir to the throne, held his father's attention, and – most hurtfully – held Freyja's affection. He felt as if he'd been replaced. Is this what Loki felt for all these years. Never had Thor felt like this before. And, he wished that Baldur was terrible, so he could dislike him guilt free. But no, he seemed to be an upstanding guy.
Baldur said, "I had one of the chambermaids send her coffee. My guess is she's dealing with a hangover. She may not come for breakfast."
"You didn't lie with her last night?" he said.
His brother frowned and said, "She was blackout drunk. I put her to bed, and then I went to my own bedchambers. Do you really think that low of me?"
"No, it's not that."
"Father said he wished for us to train together. Despite your victories, he suspects there may be an attack coming along," Baldur said. "What are you doing today?"
"I don't have plans."
"Do you wish to train after breakfast?"
The opportunity to beat up his brother without repercussions and under the guise of training? Yeah, he'll take him up on that.
"Sure."
X
"Who are you?"
"Amora."
Loki couldn't look away from her. It almost creeped him out how much she looked like Freyja. Their faces and bodies were almost identical. The only differences were the blonde hair and very minute details such as Amora's eyes were more watery and 'innocent'. Loki lived long enough to know that there was no such creature especially since she's sitting in prison.
"Why do you look like Freyja?"
She seemed annoyed to be asked that question. It was brief, but the look was there. Her eyes peered up and took a big breathy sigh. Even with the roughness of prison life, her beauty and near identical looks to Freyja was stirring something within him.
"Would you believe that I wished upon a star?" she said playfully, sounding childish.
"Don't be coy," he said, feeling a smirk curl on his lips. "Are you related?"
"No."
"Magic?"
"Technically yes."
He'd been observing her for the past day rather closely. He didn't have anything else to do, and it was obvious that Amora knows she's beautiful. The guard she was assigned to was obviously star struck and clearly baffled that she was remotely interested in him. Amora played the shy, helpless girl really well which ensnared her targets. That guard was under her thumb each time he gave her a meal. He was almost impressed.
"It seems you're in need of my guidance to get out of here," he said, putting on a smile.
"Not really."
He frowned as he watched her continue to look at the door on the opposite wall. He trusted his instincts. She had something planned. Was she going to wreak havoc in Asgard? He wondered what she was in for. What would she do when she got out? He had no doubt she'd escape.
"Any particular plans?"
"None I wish to share."
He was growing a little frustrated. Why won't this woman speak? As a prince, he had zero trouble getting women to open up to him in more ways than one. Sure, they were all infatuated with Thor, but he always offered comfort to Thor's rejects.
Then, the door opened, and the guard from yesterday came back. As if an on switch was flipped, Amora was a completely different person. Her face lit up, eyes watery, smile elusive and innocent, and posture submissive. She had 'rescue me' written all over her. She was brilliant, and he was a little annoyed at it.
"You were gone so long," she said, voice light and airy. "I thought maybe you forgot about me."
"Of course I wouldn't," the guard said quickly.
He was so tragically sincere that Loki almost felt badly for the guard. Almost.
She was in his space. Her touches were spare. If he didn't know better, someone may believe she was being shy, but Loki knew better. Everything about Amora's seduction was calculated, perfect, and well practiced.
"Were you successful?"
"I… yes, I was," he said, growing redder and redder by the second.
Hmm? What did she ask this lovesick guard to do? Was she planning to break out? What are her plans? What did she get thrown into prison for? Why does she look like Freyja? Why isn't she cooperating with him? He loathed being out of the loop.
"You have to switch cells," he said. "I think they're getting suspicious."
"That's fine," she said softly.
He watched as they left the cell. He was annoyed that his distraction was leaving. What was he supposed to do now? Read until the end of his days? This was not how things were supposed to go. He should be king by now, and Freyja should be by his side as his queen and mother to his heirs. But when did he ever get what he wanted?
X
Thor wished he could find a good reason to hate Baldur, but he couldn't. His newfound brother was actually a decent person. The new crown prince reminded him of his fellow Avenger who wore stars and stripes. He couldn't find a flaw. He was beginning to understand why they called him the God of Light and Purity. He couldn't just hate Baldur simply because he and Freyja were close. Well, he could, but it wouldn't do anyone any good. His relationship with his other brother was tarnished right now, but that didn't have to be the case with Baldur.
"You're getting distracted," Baldur said with his sword pointed at his neck.
"What threat did Father say he thinks will come?" he asked.
He tried to keep focus as they sparred with one another. His mind was all over the place right now. For the first time in his life, winning battles wasn't enough to satisfy him. He wanted Freyja. He didn't necessarily mean sexually though he wouldn't mind that, but he mostly just wanted to be close with her. He wanted her as a friend. He wanted a bond. He wanted her affection all for himself. And she wasn't well. She kept fainting, and traditional medicine wouldn't work. Lady Eir said it was something within. He didn't understand magic, but he understood that Freyja was deteriorating right in front of him. So, he just had trouble caring about some supposed threats coming their way.
"Something about elves and frost giants. The short time that Asgard hasn't been in communication with the other realms have broken some good will between us."
"But I just liberated Vanaheim and Alfheim," Thor said.
"That doesn't mean they like us. Freyja and other Vanir still hate the Æsir despite signing a treaty. I'm sure you're well aware."
"Then, why does she like you?"
Damn, he didn't mean to let it come out like that, but he was genuinely baffled that she just seemed to blossom around him. It made him feel so inadequate. Feeling inadequate wasn't allowed.
"Ask her," he said, shrugging it off.
"Do you fancy her?"
Baldur paused, and Thor had the opportunity to gain the upper hand. He managed to pin his older brother to the wall with the head of his hammer. No escaping the question now.
"She's… my muse," he said, clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed by the question. "I, uh, can't quite put what I feel into words."
Thor relented, feeling defeated even though he won the soaring match. He knew. It was clear that he was into Freyja, the flush on Baldur's face was evident enough. He was going to pursue Freyja, and there was nothing he could do about it. For the first time in his life, he would have to compete for a woman's affections.
They ended the sparring there.
Thor wanted to visit Freyja. He hadn't seen her all day. Was she okay? She didn't seem okay. It was almost time for dinner, and he hadn't seen her at all. He needed to go and check up on her.
Several maidens ran up to him, blocking his path. He frowned in confusion at their appearance. He noticed immediately that they were wearing black dresses and lace chokers with a carved stone in the center. He knew exactly who they were trying to look like, and it was odd. They weren't at the extreme like Amora, but he imagined the motivation was the same. Somehow, Freyja was on everyone's mind.
"Hello," one of them said.
"Hi, excuse me," he said.
"Wait," one whined.
He ignored her and headed down the hall past the two maidens. It may come off callous, but he didn't care about them beyond how he felt about his people in general. He didn't want to waste his or their time.
He was at Freyja's bedchambers. He knocked gently. There was nothing. He knocked a little harder. Still nothing.
"Freyja?" he asked.
Nothing.
"Freyja?" he said a little louder.
Nothing.
"Freyja! Are you alright?"
Nothing.
"Answer me if you're alright!"
Nothing.
The door was locked when he tried it. He knew this was a violation of personal privacy, but he found himself not caring. She could've drowned in her own vomit from her hangover. She could've passed out from her magic condition again. She could be calooting with Loki. She could be—
One good throw of himself against the door, and the lock broke. It burst open. And, he didn't know what to say or do….
