Chapter Twenty-Two
"...should be married," Njord said, his voice hoarse since he had been talking ever since he had woken.
"Well, I have received a proposal from Brokk the dwarf."
Njord spluttered incoherently. "Dwarf! You would be better off marrying a pig!"
"Then it is a good thing I turned him down."
"Bad enough that your daughters were sired by the animals," Njord muttered, not listening to Freyja. "Hardly even my kin. My granddaughters half-dwarf! Lust filled beasts, dwarves-"
"Shouldn't you go back to the palace, Father?" Freyja interrupted.
"I have a right to be here, it is my duty as my father-"
"I am not remarrying. I have told you that!"
"Your daughters need to be married, unless you want to drag them into the mud as well."
"Var is too busy with her career to worry about men right now."
"She should be at home with babies caring for a husband, not gallivanting around the nine realms acting like a pompous princess! If she likes singing so much she can sing to her children."
"She is becoming very successful and independent."
Njord grunted. "And those triplets-"
"Are only nineteen."
"Should be married. Don't know why you haven't gotten them husbands to take care of them yet. Or will nobody bargain with you, ashamed to have their sons involved with your daughters because of your reputation? I know of several wealthy families on Vanaheim-"
Freyja rolled her eyes and tuned him out. It was fascinating to her that despite all his bluster, Njord never once suggested that Hnossa marry. He did not openly say so, but Freyja knew that her father suspected that her eldest was born through an affair with a mortal, and that was why she, too, was mortal. It was a common view, even though Ve had proclaimed Hnossa his daughter and that her immortality had been stolen by a demon's attack-
If I had known what a demon he was-
"Freyja! Are you listening to me?"
"No, Father. I'm going to visit Idunn. You can either go back to the palace or find your way to the nearest tavern, but you may not stay here."
"Ungrateful brat!"
"Yes, Father. I am ungrateful." Freyja pulled on a shawl. "Are you coming or going?"
Njord sourly got to his feet. He stormed out without another word. Freyja was glad that he hadn't brought up Frey- after the events of the previous night, she wasn't sure she could have held herself back if Njord had continued to insult her twin.
"Sigyn!" she called up the stairs. "Come on, now. It's time to go."
Sigyn slowly walked downstairs. "Can I stay here today?"
"Are you sick?"
"No. But I just don't want to go. Please?"
Freyja shook her head, but sighed. "Alright. You can stay. Have lunch ready at noon. And you and I are making supper tonight, so make sure we've got everything that you want to make."
Sigyn smiled and hugged her mother. "Thanks, Mor. Love you. See you later!"
"I love you too."
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Frey walked into his twin's house, not looking forward to her reaction to the news he bore. He had gone to the palace as soon as he returned to Asgard; he would be sent out in two weeks time to an outpost in Svartalfaheim. There were rumours of dark elves and Odin wanted their home world under watch. Frey was in uniform, but not armour. Freyja was still going to react strongly to the situation... He made his way to the kitchen.
"Uncle Frey!" Sigyn squealed when she saw him. She abandoned the stew she was stirring to run over to him. "I missed you."
"Sigs, I've only been gone for two months," Frey laughed, hugging his niece.
"Two months is a long time.," Sigyn replied.
"Sigyn, let your uncle come in before you attack him like that!" Freyja chided. "Come add carrots to the stew."
Sigyn obeyed, and Freyja came over to Frey, wiping flour off her hands onto her apron. "Will you be staying for supper?"
"If I won't be intruding."
Freyja shook her head. "You are in uniform. We can talk about that later, though. How is Mother?"
"Well. She wishes that you would visit more."
"I'm busy. She can visit me."
Frey frowned. He didn't want Freyja to have yet another thing to fight with Odin about, and so hadn't told her about Gaea's banishment. It wasn't easy, though... He inwardly sighed.
"Mor?" Snotra slipped into the kitchen. "Uncle Frey!" She hugged him tightly. "I didn't know you were back!"
"I just got back."
"Are you staying for dinner?"
"Yes. Are you?"
Snotra rolled her eyes. "Mor, can I take some bread up to Syn? She's not feeling well."
A troubled look came over Freyja's face, but she nodded. Snotra gathered a small loaf of bread and slipped out again. Frey washed his hands and helped Sigyn finish up the stew while Freyja made biscuits. When it was done, Freyja sent Sigyn upstairs to fetch her sisters while she and Frey set the table.
"I've requested to be put back into rotation," Frey told his sister, bracing himself for the worst.
"Alright."
"I'm leaving in a week. I'll be gone for three months."
"Alright."
Frey glanced at his twin; she was studiously laying down the utensils. "Really?"
"Really what?"
"Is it really alright?"
"Why wouldn't it be?" Freyja set down her last knife and fork. "You could have told me before now, though."
"I just made the request today."
"Before you came here?"
"I was only gone for two months!" Frey had to take breath. "It there is anything around the house you need done-"
"Nothing."
Frey sighed. "Freyja, you wouldn't be so quiet if you weren't furious."
"I'm not furious. Just disappointed that killing people is more important to you than your family."
"I won't be killing anybody," Frey said through gritted teeth. "And my retainer has been cut, I need some rotations so I don't run out of money."
"Fine."
"Freyja."
"I could pay for-"
"No. I'm not going to live off of you."
Freyja headed into the kitchen. "Could you bring in the stew?"
Frey followed. "I'm only going to be gone for three months."
"And back for a week and gone for another three months." Freyja turned to him; there were tears in her eyes. "I need you here, Frey. I need you to just give me a little while longer."
"Freyja, I've given you thirteen years! You and the girls have been my life for thirteen years. I need to find my own life."
"But Hnossa-"
"Still has many years left. I'm not changing my mind. You will do fine without me. Your dwarves can fix fences or whatever else needs to be done, everybody knows you're sleeping with them anyway!"
"I'm not going to call on them for help!"
"Then what is the point of them?"
Freyja grabbed a plate of biscuits and marched back to the dining room. Frey found a potholder and grabbed the stew, stewing himself. He studiously attempted to shove his rising guilt aside. Even if he wanted to change his mind, he had already received his assignment. Why did Freyja insist that she had to be the centre of the universe? It was just more proof that he had to get out of here, the sooner the better.
"Gone two months and all of a sudden..." Freyja murmured.
"It's not sudden. If you paid attention to anything besides your jewels you'd know that!"
Supper was silent. Sigyn talked a while about the new book she'd started reading, until Sjofn had snapped that they didn't need to hear about it again. Freyja had half-heartedly scolded her, but afterwards nobody said a word.
"You three clean up," Freyja said one she was done eating. "I'm going to take a bath."
"But I helped make it!" Sigyn protested.
"Don't argue." Freyja stood. "Actually, I'm going out. I expect the kitchen to be clean when I get back."
She swept away without another word. Sigyn sat pouting until Sjofn persuaded her to help clean the table and then she could go read.
"Uncle Frey?" Snotra murmured as the stood. "Can you go talk with Syn? Something's wrong but she won't tell Sjofn or me what it is."
Frey's first instinct was no. He had just got back, and he had to prepare for his rotation... He sighed and nodded before making his way upstairs.
"Go away!" Syn shouted when he knocked on her door.
"Syn, it's Uncle Frey."
There was a moment of silence and then the door opened. Syn was disheveled and she clearly had been crying. "I didn't know you were back."
"What's wrong?" Frey's brow fell with concern for his niece.
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing."
Syn took a deep breath and swallowed. "Where are Mor and Sigyn?"
"Freyja went out and Sigyn is helping with cleaning." Frey put his hand on Syn's shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Syn's eyes filled with tears. "I... I'm pregnant."
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"I'm pregnant," Freyja announced as she swept into the dwarf's shop. They were just closing up, but stopped to stare at her.
"Are you?" Brokk asked in surprise.
"Yes."
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"Mor is going to kill me," Syn sobbed, leaning against Frey for support. "I was so stupid!"
Frey rocked Syn back and forth. He really wished that Freyja was here. He didn't know how to deal with this! Syn, pregnant? "Does anybody else know?"
Syn shook her head. "I've been trying to tell Mor, but I just don't know how!"
"She'll understand, Syn. She isn't going to be angry with you because you're pregnant."
Syn laughed in a hysterical, bitter manner. "That's not the problem! The baby isn't the problem!"
Frey frowned. "Then what is?"
"She'll ask who the father is."
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Eitri glanced at his brother and then stepped forward. "Do you know which of us is the sire?"
Freyja shrugged. "One of you. It's not like we've had a lot of one-on-one time lately, is it?"
It was a lie. She hadn't been with either of the dwarves for three and a half months. Her cycle had come just after her last 'visit' with them. The only man she had since then was Ve in Tyr's body, and then Tyr himself. There was no doubt in her mind who the father of this child was. But it was close enough that nobody would ever know that she was lying.
I am not letting him claim my child! Odin would take her – or him – away from me in favour of his friend.
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Frey wasn't sure what to say. "Do you know who the father is?" he asked his sobbing niece.
"Yes."
"Then why-"
Syn looked up at her uncle, swallowed hard, and burst into tears again.
Frey was silent while Syn sobbed. The only thought in his head was not Syn too! He silently prayed to whatever power could hear the prayer of a god that he had not failed to protect his niece as well as his sister...
"Syn, I know it's hard but... the baby's father... Did he force you?"
Syn shook her head, and Frey sighed in relief until she spoke. "He's married."
Frey went rigid.
"Please don't be angry," Syn pleaded. "Uncle Frey, please don't hate me! I was stupid, I wish I hadn't but I did and I'm pregnant. I know I messed up-"
"What were you thinking?" Frey hissed.
"I wasn't!"
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, forcing himself to calm down. Syn held her breath, staring at him with red eyes, clearly expecting the worst.
"Who is it?" Frey asked eventually.
"Fandral's father," Syn replied miserably.
Frey frowned a moment before he lurched to his feet. Fandral – he recognised the name. He was only a year older than the triplets! His father had to be at least as old as Frey himself! He would kill the man for this!
"Please don't be angry!"
Frey sank back down, struggling to hold in his anger. "Does he know you're pregnant?"
Syn shook her head. "I don't want him to know."
Frey put an arm around her shoulders. "How did it happen?"
"I was mad at Mother," Syn said quietly. "Volsak had talked to me in the market earlier that day. I know she hates him. He's propositioned her in the past, and she thinks him a pig. Because he's married and still has dozens of women in and out of his chambers."
"Why were you mad at your mother?"
"I don't even remember. But I went to him and spent the night. And I liked it so I kept going back."
"For how long?"
"Almost five months now. I... I wanted to stop seeing him, but I just... It feels so good-"
Frey pinched the bridge of his nose. He had heard such sentiments from Freyja before. It was different coming from his niece.
"I'm sorry. That's probably too much information." Syn wiped her face. "I knew I shouldn't. And not I'm pregnant. What should I do?"
"I don't know. You could go to Midgard, stay with Gaea until the baby is born, if you aren't ready to be a mother. She would make sure the baby got a good home."
"I don't know if I am," Syn sighed. "I'm too busy being scared to think about what it means to have a baby. I don't even know if I want to be a mother, ever."
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"You must be near fourteen weeks?" Brokk asked, walking with Freyja back towards her house.
Closer to eleven. Freyja nodded, smiling. "I just wanted you to know that I wouldn't be coming around often anymore. You can deliver my purchases to my house when they're ready."
"Of course," Brokk nodded.
"I haven't told anyone yet, so keep it quiet, will you?"
He nodded again.
"Good."
"Freyja, if it's not too much to ask... This new little one, perhaps I could..."
"Perhaps you could what?"
"Perhaps I could make her a swing," Brokk muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground. "You said that the one you used for your other daughters was getting old."
Freyja shrugged. "If you want to. I suppose I can give it to Idunn when she needs it."
"Is she expecting?"
"Not that I'm aware of. None of my girls are going to be mothers soon, Brokk."
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Frey cradled Syn closer. "You have to tell your mother."
"I know."
"Sooner, rather than later."
"I know."
"Uncle Frey?" Sigyn's sweet voice came up the stairs. "Uncle Frey! We're baking apples, do you want one?"
"Are you going to be alright?" Frey murmured.
Syn nodded. "I'll get cleaned up and come downstairs."
"Uncle Frey?"
"I'm coming," Frey called back. "And put one in the oven for Syn, alright?"
"Alright!"
Frey kissed Syn's forehead. "Everything is going to work out."
Syn managed a smile and nodded. Frey was halfway back down the stairs before he remembered he was leaving in a week. He passed Freyja coming up as he came down. But for a very tense 'goodnight' she said nothing. Frey sighed. They'll have to get along without me...
AN: To the anonymous reviewer StrangeOne- thank you for the reviews, your comments are appreciated, and in answer to your question, no, that is not going to happen. Sorry if that disappoints you :)