Chapter Eleven

Tyr collected Freyja from her new house. They walked arm-in-arm back to his, talking quietly. As was normal when Freyja was seen walking with a man, most of the people either stared or avoided looking at them. When they made it to Tyr's house, Freyja found that the table was laid with fancy plates and crystal glasses.

"This is beautiful."

"You sound surprised."

Freyja smiled at Tyr as he awkwardly pulled out her chair with one hand. "You seem more like the type to decapitate your enemies than set a table so beautifully."

"I am, but that does not mean I am incapable of setting a table or cooking a meal." He kissed her gently. "I hope you like chicken."

"Love it."

He kissed her again and disappeared into the kitchen. Freyja poured herself a glass of grape juice and took a sip. Tyr returned quickly, bearing a platter of baked chicken thighs and breasts, drizzled in a pale yellow sauce, surrounded by potatoes and carrots. The smell hit Freyja's nose and suddenly she felt so hungry she could eat the whole chicken.

"Here we are," Tyr proudly announced, setting the dish down in the middle of the table and then sliding portions onto first Freyja's plate and then his own.

"It smells delicious!" Freyja exclaimed.

"I hope it lives up to its scents then."

Freyja eagerly cut off a corner and put it in her mouth. It was a little dry, but still delicious. "It's wonderful."

"Thank you." Tyr took a bite himself, and nodded. "Not too bad for a crusty old solider!"

"Not bad at all." Freyja chewed another piece. "So. You said you had concerns?"

"Yes." Tyr chewed in silence for a moment. "I would like to know what exactly it is you want."

Freyja's brow creased. "Do you mean generally or detailed?"

"I mean are you looking for a lover or a notch on your bedpost?" Tyr's gaze was steady.

"Contrary to popular belief, I do not notch my bedpost." Freyja ate a piece of potato as she gathered her thoughts. "Honestly, Tyr, I am not sure what I am looking for. What do you want?"

"I thought, at first, that I would be fine with just one time, and then life going back to the way that it was. I thought, I could help you with that and then that would be the end." Tyr hesitated a moment. "I suppose I'm not certain what I am looking for, either."

Freyja sighed. "I won't be tied to a man. I have my lovers, and I care for them all in one way or another, but they are lovers only. I will not be constrained by them to do anything that I do not wish to do, inside the bedroom or out of it. I will keep them all so long as they do not get jealous or possessive, or until they wish to break it off."

Tyr swirled the liquid in his glass. "I don't like one-night encounters. It seems that they are all I have, though. Even the woman who carried my child-"

"I'll share no claim to my children," Freyja interrupted "I don't let my lovers get close to them. I won't allow them to be hurt by becoming attached to a man I have no intention of sharing my life with. If you are looking for a mother for your children, look elsewhere."

"Understood." Tyr ate in silence for a moment, and Freyja wondered what it meant. "What I was trying to say is that if we are to proceed, I do not want to be a notch in the bed again. I want to be able to have conversations, meaningful conversations, I want to be able to share details of my life, not just details of my body."

"You want an emotional connection," Freyja murmured. "As well as sex."

"But if that is not what you want, then we can have tonight, you can notch your bedpost tomorrow and we go on living our separate lives."

Freyja looked into Tyr's dark brown eyes. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. "I want... I want someone who won't run away when I start crying and can't explain why. Someone who will stop if I ask him to, no matter if we've just started kissing or if he's seconds away from finishing. Someone who is willing to be on his back as often as I am on mine, someone who will be willing to hold me if that's what I need, and accept no as an answer... Someone who will move slowly, gently, who will touch me tenderly..." Tears pooled in her eyes. "I want a man who does not exist."

Tyr reached hesitantly and put his hand on hers. "Perhaps I can try?"

"I don't want to fall in love again, Tyr," Freyja whispered. "Love hurts too much."

"Then I will not ask for love."

Tyr kissed her lightly, gently, and moved his lips to her neck. She closed her eyes and twined her fingers in with his uninjured hand.

"If I could, I would carry you to my bed right now," Tyr murmured.

Freyja tilted her head so that he could continue exploring her neck with his mouth. "I can walk."

Tyr pulled away. "Have you had enough to eat?"

An unexpected laugh burst from Freyja, and she pulled his head close again so she could kiss him. "Yes," she said, pulling away. "I have had enough to eat. But was that the only concern you had?"

Tyr offered his uninjured hand and helped her stand. "No, I have two others."

"And they are?"

"I'm not going to put you into labour, am I?"

Freyja shook her head. "We just have to be careful. Although with Var... You don't want to hear about that, do you?"

"Perhaps some other time." Tyr kissed her again, and then with his hand in hers, lead her from the dining hall, into a room that had a grand bed, with a frame made of dark cherry-wood. It was sparsely decorated. "One more thing. I'm not going to touch your baby, am I?"

"No," Freyja reassured him. She turned around, brining her intricate braids over her shoulder. "Unlace me?"

Tyr stroked her neck and shoulders, and then began to tug at the laces. "Last time you said we were moving too fast."

"I know, but this time I made a mistake wearing this dress. It's terribly uncomfortable. I only keep it because I like the way the colour looks on me."

Tyr chuckled, kissing her neck as he unlaced her. When the laces were loose enough, she dropped the gown to the floor. She was wearing a more modest slip this time, made of cotton rather than satin, a scoop neck, with cup sleeves and a skirt that went all the way to her knees. She slid that off too, slowly, and it joined the gown on the floor.

"One thing that you should know about me, Lady, is that I like to keep my living spaces orderly."

Freyja smiled, lying down on her side, as Tyr removed his clothing and folded them awkwardly, placing it on a nearby chair. He retrieved Freyja's clothes and folded them, too. He set aside his sling, and lied down then too, facing Freyja, carefully keeping his weight on his shoulder rather than arm, reaching out to caress her shoulder down to her waist.

"I always like this part," Freyja murmured.

"What part?"

"The light touch of a man's hand on my skin... it feels..." Freyja giggled at her own thoughts. "This is when I feel the most beautiful woman in the nine realms."

"You're always the most beautiful woman in the nine realms."

"Normally, I feel like I'm the most beautiful whore in the nine realms." To her embarrassment, Freyja realised that she was crying again. "But this is the way Ve used to make me feel."

Tyr wiped a tear from his face.

"I'm sorry." Freyja pressed her palms to her eyes. "I keep messing this up, don't I?"

"Do you want to just sleep?"

"No." Freyja sighed with frustration. She wanted things to go back to normal! "I want you. You're a good man, Tyr, honourable... Maybe I just need to stop talking."

Tyr gazed at her for a moment longer, and then leaned in to press a long, slow kiss to her lips. He teased her lips open, and massaged her mouth with his tongue, his hand running down her body, lifting her leg and bringing it up to rest on his waist. He reached to pull her closer, and winced, pulling back, as he rolled onto his injured arm.

"Well, this is going to make things difficult!" he groused, glaring at his arm. "As if it wasn't difficult enough trying to figure out how this works, with you being with child!"

Freyja laughed gently, kissing him again. "Lay on your back."

"You really do know what you're doing, don't you?" Tyr asked, obeying the order. He rested his injured arm on his chest.

"Does that bother you?" Freyja asked, straddling his knees. She reached for him.

"No."

Freyja smiled at Tyr. She let out a small moan, and felt Tyr respond to the sound more than he did to her motion. He reached out with his uninjured hand, tracing her lips. She kissed his fingertips, and moved forward. Their eyes were locked on each other as she allowed his entry.

"Freyja," Tyr groaned, propping himself up onto his elbow. Freyja leaned down to kiss him, her enlarged belly pressing against his hard, sculpted chest. She began moving, and her head lolled back.

"Tyr?"

"Yes?"

"Touch me."

With a smile, Tyr obliged her. Freyja moaned again. Tyr pushed himself up higher, catching her around her neck, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Freyja loved the feel of his lips at her hairline. He wrapped his arm around her waist, kissed her lips hungrily, she moaned in his mouth, he grunted in reply. She threw back her head and screamed in triumph. Her body throbbed, and she leaned over to let her lips probe Tyr's mouth.

"Freyja," he groaned, falling back, his temples glistening with sweat.

"What?"

She felt him trembling beneath her, and realised that he had not finished. Tyr caressed her neck, she caught his hand and pressed her lips to his palm, moving again, faster this time, harder, laughing in heady, giddy victory.

Tyr growled in pleasure, his uninjured hand gripping Freyja's hip. "Freyja!"

Freyja slowed her movements as she felt his release, letting the ache of pleasure in herself lessen before she lay down beside him, cuddling against his chest.

"I could run through Asgard singing right now," she murmured.

"Like this?"

"Mm-hmm."

Tyr kissed her hair, putting an arm around her. "I'd rather just stay here."

Freyja closed her eyes and inhaled his scent; sweat, cooked chicken, and pine. Tyr kissed her hair again, and then her forehead, cheek, jawbone, throat. "Do you need to rest first?"

"Keep kissing me like that and I won't."

Freyja sighed with happiness as she rolled onto her back and Tyr propped himself on his uninjured arm, gently cupping her face with his bound hand, pressing open her mouth with a kiss. Freyja linked her fingers behind his neck, and then broke the kiss slightly.

"You're going to have to go fast this time," she warned, "Mother always warns me that I need to avoid lying on my back for extended periods of time after four months."

She brought her knees up to her chest, and Tyr knelt in front of her. He kissed her neck, nibbling at the corner of her shoulder before returning to her throat and mouth. Freyja ran her hands up his back, sliding her fingers through the sweat on his skin. Tyr rested his forehead against her temple, reaching down.

Just like Atum did. Freyja tensed, a thrill of panic making the heat in her body go cold. She pushed against Tyr's chest, twisting her head away.

"Wait, stop!"

"Freyja?" Tyr pushed himself up, his brow furrowing. "Are you alright?"

"I..." Freyja covered her face with her hands, taking deep breaths. Tyr started to pull back, but Freyja caught him. She wrapped her arms around his torso, looking in his eyes. "Give me a moment?"

Tyr nodded.

Freyja stared into his eyes. They were concerned, caring. She felt the muscles in his shoulders and neck, and slowly pulled his head back to hers, kissing him gently. She teased his mouth open. He eased in. She nodded to let him know that it was all right for him to continue.

No, this wasn't what Atum did to her. She hadn't wanted that, he had been empty and mechanical. But Tyr was there, he was looking in her eyes, the expression on his face worried, moving slowly. And she knew that if she wanted him to, he would stop, he wouldn't hurt her. The alarm in her chest eased.

"Faster," she murmured.

Tyr obliged. He pressed a kiss to her neck. The alarm tightened in Freyja's chest, and she gasped.

"Look at me," she pleaded.

Tyr pulled back, and brushed her hair from her face, his movement stopping. "Are you alright?"

"I need you to look in my eyes."

"You look frightened."

"I am. But don't stop." She clutched at him as he started again, her fingers tracing his lips, his chin, his ears. Her blue eyes locked on his brown ones.

Her alarm did not disappear, and she didn't feel any pleasure, but she could continue. He kissed her afterwards, turning so that their bodies were still entwined but that they both were lying on their sides.

"Are you alright?"

Freyja nodded. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Maybe not." Freyja cuddled against his chest, pressing herself firmly against him. "But thank you all the same."