Chapter Twenty

"Mor, I don't like that dress on you."

Freyja turned from her mirror, tilting her head so that she could put her earring in. Sigyn sat on the edge of her bed.

"What was that, dear?"

"That dress. I don't like the way it looks on you."

Freyja turned back to the mirror, and inspected the skin-tight gown with the knee-flaring skirt. It was gold, with a ruby-studded belt around her waist. "What's wrong with it?"

"I just don't like the way it looks. You can't even walk in it." Sigyn kicked her feet. She was wearing a blue cotton dress with a satin rose belt and belled sleeves. Her hair was brushed back, tied with a ribbon the same colour as her belt.

"I suppose you're right," Freyja sighed, looking at herself. "It is a little over-the-top to go to the market."

"You mean to see those dwarves."

Freyja threw open her wardrobe. "I wish you wouldn't talk about them like that. After all, Brokk-"

"Yes, Mother," Sigyn said wearily. "Brokk fathered me. But he's not my Da. Ve is, like you always say. Why should I like that stupid dwarf?"

"You should show respect for your elders."

"You mean like calling them cranky old buzzards, the way you respect Njord?" Sigyn asked innocently.

Freyja smirked. "That's exactly what I mean, yes." She shook her head. "I know your sisters have told you things about the dwarf brothers, but they aren't as bad as your sisters say. They made Bragi his chairs, remember? Just because my relationship with them isn't what is normal for Asgard does not make them bad men."

"I don't like the way they look at you. Like you're one of their necklaces on display."

"What do you think about this gown?" Freyja pulled out a violet linen dress with no sleeves and a low neck.

"I like your green one the best." Freyja put the violet one away and pulled out the green one that she knew that Sigyn was referring to. She smiled at the selection and nodded.

"This is your Da's favourite one, too."

"That's why I like it."

"Such a good fashion sense my little girl has." Freyja quickly changed. "I forgot to ask. How were sword lessons yesterday with Uncle Frey?"

Sigyn wrinkled her nose. "I hate sword lessons, Mor. I don't understand why you make me take them."

"That isn't an answer, sweetheart."

"Uncle Frey says that I am doing very well," Sigyn replied in a sing-song, bored voice. "I need to tighten up my grip, and work on my footwork, but I have very fluid motions and I'm very quick. My defense is good but I need to be more aggressive. But I don't like being aggressive. Why do I have to learn this, anyway? Asgard has never been more powerful."

"You have to learn because I said so." Freyja kissed Sigyn's forehead. "I never liked training when I was young, either, but I'm glad that I did."

"I just want-" Sigyn cut off.

Freyja frowned, but didn't say anything. She knew that Sigyn was about to ask about magic again. Her hands trembled for a second as she remembered her dream from the previous night, and she tried to suppress it. She took a deep breath and turned away, going back to the vanity dresser to change her earrings. The first signs of magic had manifested in Sigyn when she was only five years old. Freyja had taken her and the triplets to Vanaheim to visit Hnossa and Skadi. There, some of the local boys had harassed the girls as they went for a walk, tugging their braids and calling them daughters of a whore. The triplets had taken on the largest boys, trading punches, but Sigyn had been smaller and more delicate than her sisters. The boys had knocked her down. Syn said she saw one of the boys put his hand up her skirt, but Sigyn emphatically denied it.

Freyja had heard of all of this when she was visited by six very angry mothers, dragging eight frightened boys with moderate burns on their hands and arms that were the shape and exact size of Sigyn's hand. Freyja had been so frightened that this would alert Atum to Sigyn's presence that she had reduced her little girl to tears by shouting for six hours. She put her into training the very next day to suppress the magic tendencies. She'd switched mentors a dozen times because each of these teachers approached Freyja with very passionate arguments to teach Sigyn advanced magic.

"Let's go, Sigyn," Freyja picked up her money purse and took Sigyn's hand.

"Mor, I do not need to hold hands anymore," Sigyn complained, pulling her hand away. "I'm thirteen, I'm not a little girl."

"You'll always be my little girl."

"But I'm not a little girl." Sigyn walked slightly behind Freyja on the way to the market. "Why couldn't I stay home, Mor? I could get some of my studying done."

"Sigyn, you're already three grades above your age. The only person in the nine realms smarter than you is your uncle Thoth."

"But I want to finish Publius Ovidius Naso's Metamorphoses tonight."

"Metamorphoses? What's that?"

"It's how one of the mortal cultures, the Romans I think, views their world. It talks about the Olympians a lot, but not the Aesir or Vanir. It's fascinating."

"How long is it?"

"Fifteen books."

"Fifteen books?" Freyja stopped to let her daughter catch up. "When do you find all this time to read?"

Sigyn shrugged. "When do you find time to try on so many dresses?"

Freyja laughed, but when she turned back to her path she stopped. Not ten yards ahead of them was Lord Tyr. He was inspecting weapons laid out by a blacksmith. Freyja's heart skipped a beat. Thirteen years, and she still couldn't control the way she ached for him every time she saw him. Since the day when they had separated, she had rarely seen him. He had even stopped volunteering to be Ve's host... Thinking of Ve only made her heart ache more.

"Mor? Mor, are you alright?"

"What?" Freyja looked down to Sigyn, who took her hand, looking concerned. "Oh, yes. Yes, I am fine, darling."

"You look sad."

Freyja smiled brightly, and pulled Sigyn along with her. "I'm fine. Let's keep going. I want to stop in at the dwarf's shop. Ostara is coming soon and I want a matching hairpin and brooch... maybe I should try those belly chains that dwarfish women wear... But we have to be quick. Idunn will be making tea for us."

Sigyn sighed in annoyance. "Maybe I could see Uncle Frey."

"I don't have time to walk you to Frey's house and then back to Idunn's house."

"I could walk myself."

"Absolutely not." They passed the blacksmith's shop, and Freyja wondered if Tyr was a little too studious as he inspected a broadsword. Freyja was quick in the dwarf's shop, finding nothing she truly liked. She left a description with Eitri what she wanted (and making an arrangement to spend the night with him in two day's time) and then headed for Idunn's house. She didn't notice that Tyr had lingered around the blacksmith's shop. She didn't notice the hesitant, regretful expression on his face as he took a step towards her. She didn't notice when he turned on his heel and headed in the opposite direction.

Freyja dropped Sigyn off with Idunn and then went to the palace. She took a deep breath as she made her way to the throne room. It was almost time for Ve's one day and she needed to "negotiate" with Odin. If she didn't know that Ve would want to see his brother, she would have found a volunteer herself and cut him out entirely.

Odin was alone in the throne room. That was both a good and a bad thing. Good because it meant they could shout as loud as they needed to. Bad because it meant that they could shout as loud as they wanted to.

"Lady Freyja," Odin greeted, sounding as though he was having a hole drilled into his head with a spoon.

"My king. Do you have a list of possible hosts for Ve this year?"

"One."

"One?"

Odin nodded. "You are aware that my brother wrote a letter to Lord Tyr last year?"

Freyja pressed her lips together. "Yes."

Odin handed her a piece of paper. "Halfway down."

Freyja looked at the letter, her heart constricting as she saw the familiar slope of Ve's writing. She needed him so much! Pulling herself out of her pain, she started to read. Just as Odin said, halfway down the page was what she wanted.

I know that you have not been in Asgard of late, my friend, while it is time for me to visit but I ask that this next year you make the effort to play host once more.

Freyja read and reread the request.

It is becoming harder each time I come. Perhaps because my hosts these past twelve years are men I do not know. Perhaps because the magic of the amulet is fading. I need to know, Tyr. Please.

Freyja silently handed the letter back. She could feel the tears trying to form but she didn't let them.

"Tyr has agreed so long as you have no protests."

Freyja looked at the floor.

"He told me about your... relationship."

"Given that you have one friend, and that is Tyr, I expected no less." Freyja folded her arms, deciding not to point out that she had been the one that let him know... "My relationship with Tyr ended thirteen years ago. What does it matter now?"

"I merely do not want to see my friend hurt again."

"Then tell him that he had best avoid becoming involved with the Great Whore of Vanaheim again."

"Oh, I have," Odin shot back. "But even now he talks of how he could have been with you forever and that he still thinks that you were motivated by fear to end your relationship with him."

"It matters not. I have no intention of reviving our relationship, and I doubt very much Tyr could change my mind, provided that he even wants to have such a relationship again. So you have no reason to fear, do you?"

Odin surveyed her silently.

"If Tyr is willing to be Ve's host, I will not object, considering Ve made the request himself. Shall we continue our normal way of dividing his time?"

"Is Hnossa coming to visit with her father this year?"

Freyja had to turn away to hide the tears that filled her eyes. "No," she said softly. "She says that she will be with him again in a few short years and that it's too painful for her to say goodbye again every year."

"So she has fully come to accept her inevitable death?"

Freyja told herself that the unspoken accusation she thought she heard was just imaginary. "If there is no cure of the mortality of the people of Midgard, how can there be a cure for hers?"

Odin was quiet a moment. "Sometimes I think that the universe was kind to Ve by taking him away before Hnossa's mortality takes her. It would kill him to lose his daughter."

Freyja whirled on him. "And you think it's not killing me?"

"Ve would not have the wisdom to spend the years she had with her." Odin's gaze was uncharacteristically soft. "He would have wasted her time and then regret not being there with her."

Freyja straightened her shoulders. She would not discuss her daughter's impending death with Odin! "Is there anything else, Allfather?"

"We will have the normal divide of time?"

"I have no objections to that."

"Then that is all."

Freyja turned to go. "I will see you in three days time then."

She was leaving the throne room when two boys burst in. Thor brushed past her, red-faced, shouting that Loki had done something. The younger prince trailed behind, running straight into Freyja (on purpose she thought.)

"I apologise, my lady," he said, stepping past her and running after Thor. "He's lying! I didn't do anything!"

Freyja shook her head and continued away. She had best get back to Idunn's to collect Sigyn... Frigga came hurrying up the corridor. She slowed when she caught sight of Freyja. The two women had never repaired their friendship, and now all their talk seemed to be strained at best. It made Freyja's heart heavy, but she would never admit that.

"You and Odin were discussing your plans for Ve's day?" Frigga asked. At Freyja's nod, she continued. "I hope the boys didn't interrupt you."

"No, we were finished when they barged in." Freyja winced, regretting her choice of words. She didn't want Frigga to think that she was insulting her sons.

"Lord Tyr will be hosting Ve again?"

Freyja nodded.

"Good. I think that it's less stressful for all of you when you agree quickly..."

"It is. It's good that we didn't have to fight this time... Perhaps we should have had Ve decide a long time ago." Her gaze fell to the floor. "I must go now. Good-day, my queen."

"Good-day, Lady Freyja."

I should talk to Tyr about this, Freyja thought as she walked away. I hope that it won't be too awkward... She had never trusted any of Ve's hosts since Tyr to ask for their permission to sleep with her husband. Could she ask Tyr for that again, after the way she had ended things with him? What would he say? She shook her head and left the palace. She would have to find the time to talk to him and see. Certainly they still had issues that needed to be addressed! But would she have the courage?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Frey slipped off his shoes before he entered the well-lit cave where he had been born. He smiled as he saw his favourite childhood toy, a green horse, sitting on a bed of moss. He stretched out, feeling the tension in his neck ease almost instantly.

"Frey."

His smile grew wider, going from ear to ear. Gaea was stepping into the cave, wearing an ivory tunic matched with pine-green trousers. Her hair was braided into a crown.

"Mother." Frey ran to embrace her. "It's been too long."

Gaea nodded. "Far, far too long. You have to tell me everything that is happening." Arm-in-arm, they walked to a nearby bench carved into the wall.

"Where to start?" Frey mused.

"With you," Gaea replied, squeezing his hand. "Have you found yourself a lover yet?"

"I don't need a lover, Mother," Frey rolled his eyes. "And if I did, I would marry her before we became lovers."

Gaea smirked. "Such a rebel."

"In this family? That is rebellion. I've never wanted to rebel against society," Frey sighed. "That's Freyja. She is the only woman I know who could thoroughly destroy her reputation and still manage to carry on as though she is the only sane being in the nine realms."

"We'll have time enough to worry about Freyja later. So you don't have a lover. What is in your life?"

"Njord sent me a message," Frey admitted. "He says that if I apologise for my rude behavior, I will be allowed to return to Vanaheim."

Gaea waited.

Frey stood and began to pace. A hot, stressed ball of anger, huddled in his chest. He took a deep breath and just let it all pour out.

"He wants me to apologise! Me! After everything he's done! I don't understand how Gullveig can stand to stay with him. It's not like he's anything a father should be. Or maybe he's different with her, because she could always run to Skadi if she got angry with him."

Gaea shifted guiltily, but Frey didn't notice.

"I bet he only wants me to come back so he can disinherit me and instate her as his heir and future ruler. I am never going back. Never. If the old man died today I wouldn't even pretend to shed a tear. Freyja might. She still cares about him, somehow. I don't understand how or why-"

The floodgates were open. "And Freyja!" He shouted, standing and pacing. "She just assumes that I'll bet here at the drop of a hat to put up a fence or chase mice out of her pantry, or watch the girls or face off with one of the palace guards because he was bragging about how he made her beg for him. I am not her personal honour guard or babysitter or carpenter! I am not her crutch! I have things of my own to do. My garden is overrun, I haven't picked up a book in a week, I can't sleep, my military pension has been slashed because I haven't rotated out in five years because Freyja can't function without me. Sigyn had nightmares almost every night. Freyja has done nothing about it. She won't let her learn magic, although she clearly has the raw talent. She's selfish, immature and-"

Frey slumped to the ground. Gaea walked over and gently stroked his hair.

"And?"

"And Syn is going down the same path as Freyja. The other night she came home at dawn when Freyja spent the night with Brokk. She reeked of alcohol and didn't bother trying to hide what she had been doing."

"Isn't that better than lying?"

"She is only nineteen."

"Freyja was only eighteen when she married Ve."

"And she was too young."

Gaea sat down. Frey put his head on her shoulder.

"What about this bothers you so much, Frey? Why is it different for Syn than for Freyja?"

"I think she's only doing it to get back at her mother. And the drinking. She is not making rational choices. What if she gets pregnant?"

"Then she has a child. Is it so different from your sister or me?"

"Yes."

Gaea raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"You are an Elder Goddess. You have legend and power. Freyja has her status as Ve's widow. What does Syn have to protect her from boars and dirty old men and gossips?"

A look of understanding crossed her face. "You're afraid that what happened to Freyja will happen to Syn, and that you won't be able to protect her."

"I couldn't protect Freyja. It could happen to any of the girls. Freyja and her daughters are all I have. Asgard is not kind to women without husbands who have babies."

"You can't go through life blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens."

"You say that. I know it." Frey dug his knuckles into his eyes. "I don't know how."

Gaea sighed and pulled her son in closer. "Oh, my lovely son. What happened to the little boy whose greatest concern was how he could make his sister smile after she ruined her favorite dress?"

"The dress became a rape and the girl broke and a smile just isn't enough anymore."

"Has she-"

"She doesn't talk about it anymore. She doesn't tell me when she has nightmares. I know she still has them. I'm so tired, Mother. Of being angry and afraid and trying to always be there, and then feeling guilty recently when Freyja asks me for help."

Gaea was silent.

"I'm going to start asking for rotations. I'll go wherever Odin sends me. I need to start thinking about me again."

"Yes," Gaea agreed quietly. "You do."

Frey let out a deep breath, grateful that she wasn't going to scold him or tell him he was being selfish. "When was the last time you saw Freyja?"

"When she brought Sigyn to visit." Gaea fell into thought. "She barely reached my waist."

Frey's brows knit. "She's thirteen now. She couldn't have been more than five then..."

"Freyja is still angry with me for leaving."

"Couldn't you talk to Odin, work something out?"

"You know him. Do you think I could?"

Frey shook his head. "No."

Gaea put her arms around Frey and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here."

"So am I, Mother. It will be nice to have a few days, just to relax. Can I lay down? I haven't slept properly in a long time."

"Of course. Are you too old for me to sing you to sleep?"

"Never," Frey smiled. He went to the moss bed and lay down. Gaea pulled a blanket over him and began singing softly. Within moments he was asleep.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Just talk to him about it," Freyja told herself, steeling her nerves as she marched to Tyr's house. "Pretend you've been asking all of Ve's hosts for this..." Her stomach was twisted and she felt as if she was trying to keep a boiling ocean from spewing out of her mouth. Her strides were long but mechanical. Was this really a good idea? She was at Tyr's door before her courage failed her.

She stood frozen for five minutes, trying to get herself to move; either knock on his door or turn tail and run. She couldn't make herself do one or the other.

"Freyja."

She yelped and turned to find Tyr at the steps leading up the path.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Four minutes." Freyja swallowed. His hair was longer and their was a new scar above his right eye. But his body was still strong and bulky and when he came up equal with Freyja she smelled pine and sweat.

"I..."

Tyr raised a brow.

"You're going to be Ve's host this year."

"And you want my permission to sleep with him?"

Tensely, Freyja nodded. Tyr studied her.

"Very well. You'll have it. But I require something in return this time."

Freyja's heart sank. Was she disappointed? Yes, she didn't want Tyr to see her as just another harlot! She realised that she had no right to think of it any other way... Not after the way she had treated him.

"Of course," she agreed. This wasn't how she would have wanted Tyr again, but at least she knew she would enjoy this payment...

"Will you come inside?" Tyr asked. "Now?"

Freyja frowned. The triplets were home, even if Frey decided to leave... and Sigyn was responsible. She nodded. Tyr unlocked the door and went in. Freyja followed. She waited until the door was closed before she stepped forward, raising her face to Tyr's. He put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her from coming closer.

"What are you doing?"

Freyja blinked in surprise. "You said-"

"I didn't mean that."

Freyja stepped back. "You didn't?"

"No. Why would you think I did?"

"Because when men tell me they want something from me, they always mean that they want me in their bed."

Tyr's brow furrowed. "I am not so self-destructive to get tangled up with you again."

Freyja tried not to be insulted. "What do you want then?"

"An explanation."

Freyja's face paled. "I can't."

Tyr's gaze was hard.

"It was thirteen years ago, what does it matter?" Freyja backed away.

"Freyja, you want my permission to use my body when I am not in control of it. The least you can do is tell me what you were so afraid of thirteen years ago and why you ended things the way you did!"

Freyja shook her head, panic rising in her. "I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I just can't!"

"So you are more than willing to share your body with whomever asks for it, but you won't answer one question?"

"Anybody can have my body, whether they have my permission or not, but I control who gets to see my soul!" Freyja shouted.

"With your permission or not?"

She went pale.

"Freyja?"

No. I did not say that!

"Freyja, what did you mean?"

"Nothing, it's just a saying."

Tyr reached for her. "Freyja."

Freyja took a deep breath and allowed Tyr to lead her into the kitchen, where she sank into a chair and hid her face in her hands. Silence seemed to smother them. Eventually Freyja looked up.

"I can't tell you."

Tyr leaned his head in his hand. "Then you can't sleep with Ve this year. I'm not giving you my body if you won't give me an answer."

Freyja was silent for a long moment. "I was afraid." Tyr pushed himself from the table. "Why I ended things between us. I was afraid."

"Of me?"

"Yes." Freyja twisted her hands as she looked up at Tyr's angry and frustrated expression. "Because..."

"Because of what?"

"Because I was falling in love with you."

Surprise came over Tyr's stony features.

"I told you that I wouldn't allow myself to fall in love again. But I..."

Tyr sat down again. Freyja wanted to take his hand, but could not tell if he believed her. He stared at her, but for the surprise in his eyes expressionless.

"If that is true, why were you so often afraid of me when we were alone? Why did you run from me that day you attacked Odin? Freyja!"

"Don't raise your voice!" Freyja buried her face in her hands again. "Please, Tyr. Don't-"

"Just tell me!"

"I was raped!" Freyja exclaimed. She pushed herself up. "A man broke into my house and forced me! There, I told you! Now you can tell me how it was my fault for being a whore, and that whores can't be raped anyway because I let any man into my body, or that I'm lying and why didn't I just enjoy it?!" Freyja was screaming by this time, her face red with her flaring anger.

Tyr sat still, staring at her. She fell silent, her chest heaving. She blinked back tears.

"Say something."

Tyr stood. Slowly he walked over to Freyja and pulled her into his arms. Freyja stiffened at first but then melted into his embrace.

"You didn't trust me," Tyr murmured.

"No." Freyja buried her face into his shoulder. His strong arms felt so comforting! Why had she ever driven him away?

"You could have told me, Freyja."

"I'm not going to apologise."

Tyr pulled back slightly. He gently brushed her hair back from her face. "I'll write Ve a letter."

"Thank you." They stared at each other. Tyr let her go.

"You should go now."

Freyja nodded. "I will." But if you asked me to stay- No! Don't think like that. She stepped towards the door.

"Freyja..." She turned. "Maybe we can talk sometime. When it's not so late and we won't be tempted to... not talk."

Freyja smiled slightly and nodded. She turned away again.

"Freyja-"

"Yes?" she asked without turning.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Freyja took a deep breath as she headed back outside. She let it out shakily. What is wrong with me? Why did she want to badly to run back in there and throw herself onto Tyr's bed, pulling him down on top of her? A bitter smile crossed her face. Because I am a whore. Anger rose in her. Why should she feel guilty about her desires? Why should she be shamed for doing the same thing that men so often did? Setting her jaw, she headed for the dwarves' shop.