Chapter Ten

Chthon retreated back into his incorporeal form, trying to mask his own fear. He had only begun to materialise on this world when Atum had appeared to confront him. Would the sun being never stop? He had never before hunted him so tirelessly, never stopping to rest for any reason.

It was possible, Chthon reflected, that he had miscalculated the effects of distancing Atum from Gaea. He had unleashed a force stronger and more dangerous than he had expected.

White-hot flame filled the cave in which Chthon's shadowy form was concealed. There was nowhere to run now- Atum stood, blazing with light, between Chthon and the cave entrance. His own will bound Chthon to this world. Atum's form had only grown grimmer and more imposing over the months, his expression now always empty... and terrifying.

"Have you tired of running yet?" His voice was almost as dark as Chthon's own.

The demon thought quickly and spoke slowly, trying to play for time – he did not intend to die today! "You have grown stronger since last we met."

Atum shot a blaze towards him. Chthon called upon his dark powers to block the fireball. With a thrill of horror, he realised it wasn't enough. A scream tore from his being as the blaze burned through his shadowy form. He retreated further from the sun-god. Atum approached confidently. Chthon sprang forward, but blazes of white light flung off Atum made him scream and shrink back again.

"You should have killed me when you had a chance," Atum snarled, charging forward, encompassing the shadow with light.

The agony was too much! Chthon condensed his form into its physical manifestation, falling to his knees as he did so.

"That was never my intention, Atum, I never have wanted you dead."

Atum responded with several burning blows to his face and chest. Chthon kicked at his ankles; Atum easily avoided him, kicking him hard in the chest and stomach. The fury rolling off his son was more than anything he had ever sensed before, and even as he screamed he felt a surge of triumph. Atum stepped back after a moment, leaving Chthon sprawled on the cave floor.

"I told you I would make you suffer before I killed you."

Not today! Chthon thought frantically – perhaps if he could distract Atum, anger him enough to make a mistake...

"Spoken to your sister lately?"His voice was brazen. "I imagine not, as you have been hounding me night and day. Perhaps I should pay her a visit on your behalf? She seemed so enjoyable, all those months ago."

Atum lunged at Chthon, roaring deafeningly. Chthon tensed – waited – until the last possible second... and managed, barely to slip past him, out of the cave. Congratulating himself on his lucky escape, he cloaked himself from all eyes, then vanished in a swirl of shadow.

"You are even more like me than I thought!" he laughed.

Atum's bellow of outrage echoed behind him, but the seal on the world slipped. Chthon threw open a portal and hurled himself through. He fell into the Flickering Realm, groaning with his injuries. The N'Garai gathered around, making concerned noises.

"Be calm, my children," he reassured them. "The sun god is nothing compared to my might."

He stood, brushing himself off before taking his incorporeal form again. He could not let it get that close again. Perhaps, if some manner of reconciliation took place between Atum and his 'family', the sun god would no longer be so determined to annihilate him? It was worth a try.

Chthon groaned. He could not risk attempting to take on Asgard. The realm was heavily guarded, it would take too much strength to break past its defenses. And once he did, Atum would be waiting for him. No, this was going to take intricate planning, and time.

Lots of time.

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After returning from the healing rooms, Freyja had told the whole family that Bragi had been hurt but was alive, and after sending the triplets to start unpacking their rooms, had told Gaea and the older girls the details. Var and Lofn were paralysed with horror, but Hnossa, bless her, and Gaea had both decided that there was no point in doing nothing but worrying. And so they had resumed moving things in from the old house. Freyja has stayed behind to put things away, and because this was where Idunn would go when she left the healing rooms.

She heard the clatter of wagon wheels on cobblestones, and pushed herself to her feet. Rubbing her aching back, she went out to greet them. But it wasn't Gaea or either of the girls driving the wagon.

"Frey!"

A smile burst across her face at the sight of her twin safe and whole, and she ran to greet him as he pulled the wagon to a stop. Var, Lofn, and Gaea got out of the back. Frey swung out of the wagon and tightly embraced Freyja.

"It's over," he said. "We've defeated the Jotünns."

"It's over, Modir!" Var laughed, joining the embrace.

Freyja buried her face in Frey's shoulder. He smelled of sweat and blood. She pulled away. "You haven't even washed."

"I had to make sure you and the girls were all right."

"Come on, girls, let's unload this," Gaea said, hoisting the oak headrest of Freyja's bed down.

Freyja shivered as she looked at it. Maybe she should have gotten a new bed, as well. But it was so beautiful! You couldn't get oak of that quality just anywhere... Plus she had used a lot of her yearly allowance on the new house. She would have to live frugally for the rest of the year, or until she sold the old house.

"Mother, I can help with that-"

"You just got back from a war," Gaea interrupted. "You need some rest."

Frey ran his hand through his hair. "You are alright, though?"

Freyja nodded. "We're fine." She bit her lip, and pulled him aside. "Bragi lost his legs."

"I know." Frey hugged her. "I'll go get cleaned up and come back to help."

"Don't you have to report or something?"

Frey shook his head. "Already done."

Freyja smiled at him. "You should probably try to get some rest."

"I'd rather be with family." With a final smile, he headed off to his house.

Freyja watched him for a moment, and then turned back to unpack what she could. They had so much work to do! It would take at least another week to get everything put away into its place. It would be good to have something to do, though.

"Modir, perhaps you should rest for a moment," Hnossa suggested as Freyja began to put dishes into the china cabinet.

"Songbird, I know the limits of my own body, you don't have to hover like a nervous dew-goose."

Hnossa hummed. "It's just... well, this is different than when you've been pregnant before."

"Not so different."

"I'm concerned is all. You're under so much stress..."

"Hnossa, I'm fine."

"But you will rest when you need it?"

Freyja nodded her assurances. She continued working for a few more hours, rallying the young triplets back to unpacking when they became too rowdy, before she was so exhausted that she could not convince herself that she did not need rest. Frey, she assumed, had gone to help with the last load from the old house.

She sank to the sofa with a groan, leaning against the armrest and lifting her feet up. She gazed around at the clutter, and sighed. Her baby started kicking at her ribs again, and she rubbed the spot.

"Hello?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard Tyr's voice. "In here."

Tyr entered the drawing room, his injured arm in a more secure-looking bandage. "Freyja."

"Tyr." She swung her legs off the sofa. "Sit down."

"I'm afraid I can't stay," he replied, perching on the edge of the sofa. "Odin has returned, and we have much to discuss."

Freyja's brow furrowed, wondering why he was telling her this, and then she remembered. "Oh! Oh, right... I'm sorry, I completely forgot that we were-"

"Who are you?"

Both Freyja and Tyr turned to see young Syn standing in the doorway with a doll under each arm, glaring suspiciously at Tyr. She edged into the room, walking over to Freyja, who put an arm around the little girl.

"Syn, this is Tyr. He's a... friend of mine."

Syn hummed. "Where did he come from?"

Freyja's face flushed with embarrassment, but Tyr laughed.

"I was a very good friend of Ve, your mother's husband."

Syn's face brightened. "You knew Da?"

Tyr nodded. Syn contemplated him for a moment, and then put her dolls in Freyja's lap, and dashed away. Freyja sighed, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Tyr hesitated for a moment. "They call Ve Da?"

"They want to, and he wants them to." Freyja rubbed her tender stomach. "I wish they could meet him, but... it's only a day. And I don't want the little girls to be confused."

Tyr nodded once. "I understand." He picked at his thumb. "As for our..."

"Meeting?" Freyja contemplated Tyr. "You have concerns."

Tyr nodded again.

"Can we talk about this another time? I don't want the girls to overhear..." Freyja glanced behind her, as though expecting to see her daughters standing there in shock and disgust at the scandalous topic.

"Perhaps we can have dinner sometime soon?"

Freyja hesitated, and then nodded. Tyr's brows furrowed as he studied her, but then nodded as well.

"In three days?"

"Yes, that will be lovely."

"I will see you then, then."

Tyr stood, kissed her knuckles, and headed out. Freyja turned herself again so that her legs were up, and dug her fingers into her hair, sighing in frustration. She always kept a distance between herself and her lovers, and made sure they knew that. But with Tyr, things were happening differently. Yes, the purpose of their interactions hadn't changed, but... She didn't even know what was different about him. Perhaps it was because he knew Ve.

Or, she thought, forcing herself to confront what she did not want to look at, perhaps it is because you were forced by your brother and carrying a child from that event.

She ached to be with a man again, but at the same time it still terrified her. Even by herself, there were times when she had to stop because the memories of what Atum did to her were so vivid that they left her feeling just as sick and helpless as she had during that night.

Do I want sex or intimacy? she wondered. And is it fair to Tyr to demand one and deny him the other? What does he want from me?

Freyja shook herself and pushed herself to her feet again. Her stomach hurt from the baby's kicking, her back and feet ached, and her head was swirling with confusion. There was only one thing to do. Get back to work.

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"Mother, can I speak with you privately?"

Gaea looked at Frey's serious expression and sighed, knowing what he was going to ask. She glanced around Freyja's new kitchen to make sure that everything was more or less in order, and then gestured for him to sit. He did so, fiddling with the cuff of his tunic.

"I don't know any more than Freyja does on the matter."

Frey seemed to be far too interested in the shape of his nails. When he looked up, there was a fire in his eyes that Gaea saw only rarely. "She knows who it was. I asked her neighbours, they said a light was on in her bedroom that night."

Gaea nodded.

"Why won't she tell me who it was? Why won't you?" Frey lowered his voice, always a sign of how angry he was. "Whoever did that to her needs to be punished!"

"And that is why she doesn't want you to know. You'll get yourself killed trying to avenge her." Gaea reached out and put her hand over her son's. "Frey, listen to me. What Freyja needs is not vengeance."

"So that sick bastard is allowed to go wandering around without the consequences of his actions?" Frey pulled away from her. "Mother, what if he comes back? How can I protect her if she doesn't let me?"

"I know this is hard for you to hear, but the best way to protect her is to leave it alone. Frey, she needs you here, she needs your support. She does not need you to die."

Frey frowned. "So whoever it is, he is powerful."

"Very powerful. And not of Asgard."

"Not of Asgard?" Frey's confusion grew. "Then where-"

Gaea shook her head. She had already said too much. "Help me get dinner ready."

Frey sighed in frustration. Gaea watched him as he began setting the table. If there was one thing she knew about her son, it was that he had the patience of a monk. He could outwait time. He wasn't going to give up.