Chapter Twenty-Five
"This ocean shall be the tears that I've shed across the years, and it shall be made red by the blood of your dead," Sigyn finished, biting her lip as she waited for Loki's reaction to the first part of her attempted epic poem.
"I don't know, Sigyn" he said slowly. "An ocean of blood and tears? That sounds an awful lot like what Set's hidden realm is supposed to look like."
Sigyn closed her notebook. "You weren't paying attention. That is Set!"
Loki's brow furrowed. "What?"
"Didn't you hear the part where I said 'And the shadows are long/when you walk on your belly'?"
"I... guess that I wouldn't have thought a demonic elder god would be so emotional."
"I'm trying to tell a different story, Loki. Everybody knows he's evil, but why is he? My grandmother is his sister, I heard her talk once about how her brother was a very sweet child. At least, I think it was her... it's been a while since I've seen her."
"Couldn't you make up your own characters, Sigyn? It seems sort of weird to be writing about real people."
Sigyn sighed. "It's terrible, isn't it?"
"No, not terrible. It just needs some work, that's all. And I'm here to help. Maybe you're just reaching too high right now. Maybe you should work on climbing the ladder. You know, instead of attempting an epic poem right off the bat, just keep writing longer and longer poems until you've got the story that you really want to tell?"
"Maybe. I want to learn some magic now." Sigyn tossed her book aside.
Loki grinned. "Alright. I've got a new one that Mother taught me yesterday. Here..." With a flick of his wrist, a nearby quill quivered and stood up and started dancing.
Sigyn clapped her hands. "All right, tell me how."
She listened eagerly as Loki explained what had to be done. As usual, the excitement of magic budded up in her, overwhelming her guilt at disobeying her mother. She doesn't know what it's like, the blonde told herself firmly. If she knew how much I loved this, she's let me learn. It isn't fair not to let me learn magic!
"You could write a poem about this, you know," Loki said as he laid out a new quill for her to practise on. "Using magic."
"I couldn't," Sigyn held her hand over the quill, concentrating. "If Mother found it..."
"Then don't say it's about magic," Loki wheedled. "Just write about how you feel. How do you feel?"
"Um..." Sigyn flicked her wrist as Loki had done; nothing happened. "I feel a little nervous trying new spells. Afraid they won't work. Excited because I love magic. Warm. My hand tingles."
"No, not like that," Loki stood behind her, putting his hand over hers, showing her the correct way to move her wrist. "See?"
"Safe," Sigyn continued as Loki continued to guide her hand, his free hand brushing against her arm. "Whole-" It was hard to concentrate with him so close to her, but she didn't mind. She liked the way she felt next to him... But she moved away anyway. "Confused."
Loki released her wrist. "Why?"
"I love using magic, but Mor doesn't want me to."
Loki rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with magic!"
"I know! But I still feel bad about disobeying Mor. Don't you feel bad when you don't do as your parents ask?"
"Only if I get caught!" Loki responded with a cheeky wink. "And I'm too clever to get caught! Unless Thor blabs with his big fat mouth!"
Sigyn giggled and then sighed. "I don't like the way Mor looks so disappointed in me."
Loki shrugged. "Father always looks disappointed in me no matter what I do, so what's the difference?"
"What about your mother?"
Loki kicked at the floor and shrugged.
He looked so sad that Sigyn had to give him a hug and quick kiss on the cheek. "Where are Thor and Sif?"
"Out sparring probably. They don't care about anything except that stupid tournament. Who needs them, anyway? We've got each other and magic."
Sigyn laughed at Loki's joke. She held her hand over the quill again. Again, he stepped up behind her, taking her hand in his. This time she didn't move away. She could feel his breath on the nape of her neck and shivered slightly.
Using magic, she thought, is like being in love.
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Freyja bit her lip as she approached Brokk. What if he didn't agree to her idea? Well, she'd have to come up with something else but really this was the best plan she had. He looked up smiling as she slid onto the stool next to his behind the counter.
"Freyja. I didn't expect to see you today."
"I have a favour to ask."
He looked slightly disappointed, but shrugged. "Ask away."
"I've been asked to help gather funds for the Healer's Rooms, and I was wondering if you and Eitri would mind holding an auction for some of your pieces of jewellery. They really are exquisite."
Brokk's brow furrowed. "Would we see any of the profits?"
"You'll receive a percentage to cover your expenses, and I am certain that your customer base would increase, if people were wearing more of your wares."
Brokk huffed. "I'll talk it over with Eitri."
Freyja sighed, moving to whisper in Brokk's ear. "I'll make it worth your while if I have to..." She wasn't fond of actively selling herself like this, but she'd known Brokk for years, and...
His pupils dilated just thinking about it. She knew he'd persuade Eitri to agree now. She smirked and leaned in just close enough to flutter her lashes against his cheek. Brokk took her hand in his.
"When is this fundraiser to be?"
"The night before the tournament that was announced. Everybody will be eager to show off new acquisitions in the celebration of the new champion."
"Hmm. I suppose business has been slow this year. Perhaps a display is what we need." Brokk cast a glance over his shop. "You'll help us decide which pieces, won't you? You know what's most fashionable in Asgard at the moment."
Freyja laughed. "You know that far better than I do. If you want me to stop by again you can just ask."
"I'd like for you to come to dinner tonight."
Freyja fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I have a lot of things to do tomorrow."
"Then just come for dinner."
"I've heard that one before."
Brokk gave her a severe look. "From me?"
Freyja opened her mouth to retort, but stopped. Brokk had always been honest with her... She thought of the lie she was telling about the child in her womb and guilt hit her like a ton of bricks. I could have very easily lied about Sigyn's origins, and yet I choose to tell my dwarves that this child is theirs? "Dinner will be fine, I suppose. But that's all that will happen tonight. Agreed?"
"Agreed. Will you be wearing Brisingamen to this auction?"
"I'm not sure. On one hand it's the most valuable thing I own, and it would definitely bring more men in... Perhaps some of them would even bid higher in an effort to impress me. On the other hand, it is the most exquisite thing on Asgard. All other jewels will pale in comparison."
Brokk smirked. "Wear it. If men are men, then they will outbid themselves to prove that they aren't there to look at you."
Freyja laughed. "Thank you. I trust you'll explain the situation to Eitri?"
"Of course." Brokk nodded.
"Good. I'll see you tonight, then."
Freyja smiled as she left the shop. That had been easier than she was expecting.
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"I'm going to miss you, Uncle Frey."
"I'll miss you, too," Frey replied, tightly embracing Sigyn. "It's going to be an adjustment for everybody, but I know that you'll be alright."
Sigyn nodded, though the tears on her face suggested that she didn't believe him. Frey wiped the tears away and kissed her forehead. They were in Heimdall's observatory, having arrived a few minutes before being deployed so that they could get in a final goodbye. It was nearing sunset on Asgard, although when he arrived at his destination it would be twilight, and never waver from that. The dark world was always in a state of dusk.
"Is that the prince coming?" Idunn murmured, looking back over the rainbow bridge.
"It looks like Thor," Sigyn agreed, wiping her eyes. "And Sif! I want you all to meet her, hold on!"
Sigyn dashed to go greet her friends, and Frey took the opportunity while Freyja and the rest of the girls were commenting on how nice it was that Sigyn finally had friends to pull Syn aside.
"You haven't told your mother yet," he murmured.
"I'm going to."
"When?"
Syn wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't know. But how can I tell Mor that her first grandchild is going to be the same age as her youngest child?"
"Just tell her. You two can moan about how uncomfortable being pregnant is together." Frey tried to give Syn an encouraging smile. He embraced her tightly. "Just tell her, Syn. You won't be able to hide it forever. And it wouldn't surprise me if she already suspects."
Sigyn was returning then, dragging along a dark-haired young girl. Prince Thor trailed after them, looking quite uncomfortable.
"This is my friend, Sif," Sigyn said, beaming. "Sif, this is Mother and Idunn, you know them already, and Var, Snotra, Syn, Sjofn, and Uncle Frey."
"Hello, Sif," Idunn said severely. "You missed your dancing lessons today."
The girl paled as she looked at Idunn. "You won't tell my mother, will you?"
Idunn fought a smirk. "Not this time. I'm sure you had more interesting things to do." She waggled her eyebrows at Thor, who went a bright red. Sif blushed too.
"Don't be mean!" Sigyn protested.
"I'm not being mean, Sigs. If I was mean I'd tell Alti that Sif is more interested in the prince than dancing."
"Idunn!"
By this time, the rest of the rotation was arriving. Frey sighed. "It's time for me to leave."
Sigyn blinked back immediate tears and launched herself into Frey's arms again.
"Be good," he told her, kissing her head. "Practise your fencing."
Sif's jaw dropped as Sigyn nodded once and moved back so that Frey could embrace the rest of his nieces.
"They actually want you to fence?" she asked incredulously.
Sigyn nodded once.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I hate fencing."
"But you'll practice, right?" Frey asked seriously.
"We'll make sure she does," Freyja said somewhat severely.
"I wish my mother was like that... Maybe we can practice together?" Sif suggested hopefully.
Sigyn shook her head emphatically. "No! I've seen the way you and Thor spar, you'll hurt me!"
"Will not!"
Frey chuckled and embraced his twin sister. "You'll be alright?"
"Of course I will."
"You're still mad at me, aren't you?"
"Of course I am. But I'll get over it." Freyja smiled at him. "Just be safe."
Frey nodded and took his helmet from Snotra and put it on. With one final smile at his family, he joined the other soldiers. This was going to be good, to leave Asgard for a while. At least he'd be able to get a bit more money coming in... he had a lot of renovations to do on his house and maybe now he'd find the money to do them!
Still, his gaze lingered on Freyja and Syn. The timing for rotating out again could not have been worse.
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"Loki was wondering where you were today," Thor said to Sigyn as they walked a little ahead of Freyja and the triplets on their way back from the bifrost. "He spent the whole day pouting."
"I was busy, helping Uncle Frey," Sigyn replied. "You'll tell him that I wish that I could have seen him, right?"
Thor nodded. "I'll tell him. Will we see you tomorrow?"
Sigyn looked back at Freyja hopefully, and with a sigh Freyja nodded.
"Don't look so excited for Sigs to have friends, Mor," Syn muttered petulantly.
"I am glad she has friends. I just wish that she had a little more independence... at this age you girls were telling me that you were spending the day with your friends, not asking my permission. You also had more than three friends."
Syn walked silently for a moment. "Mor?"
"Yes?"
"I think I'm going to visit Hnossa for a few weeks."
Freyja turned to her eldest triplet. "When?"
Syn shrugged. "Soon. I just want to get out of Asgard for a little while."
Freyja contemplated her daughter for a moment, and spoke quietly. "Syn, are you pregnant?"
Syn gave her mother a panicked look. "What?"
Freyja's heart sunk. That reaction only confirmed it. Syn was pregnant. She was going to have to go through the same snide remarks and knowing eyes that Freyja had gone through. She put an arm around her daughter.
"We'll talk later, when we can be assured better privacy." And to make sure that Syn knew that she wasn't angry, she kissed her forehead.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Sigyn," Thor said, waving vaguely as he took the path that would take him to the palace, tugging Sif along by the hand.
Sigyn fell back into step with her sisters, looking forlorn.
"Sigs, I know you're going to miss your uncle but everything will be alright." Freyja patted her youngest daughter's hair. "In fact, I think that we should go visit Hnossa soon. Maybe tomorrow we'll pop over to Vanaheim for a few hours. I have to tell her that she's going to have another little sibling, after all."
Sigyn perked up, but then wilted. "I promised that I'd go see Loki tomorrow."
"Well, I'm sure you can see him in the morning before we go."
"I guess..."
Snotra and Sjofn gave each other amused glances. "Sigyn and Loki, sitting in a tree-" they started chanting.
"Leave her alone," Syn interrupted. "Loki's just her friend, let's not start driving a wedge between them."
"We were just joking."
"Well it's not funny."
Snotra's brow creased. "What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing. I'm just tired."
"You're not going to miss supper again, are you?" Sjofn asked worriedly.
"I'm fine! Mind your own business!"
They were close to the house now, and so Freyja quickly directed Sjofn, Snotra and Sigyn to start making supper while she talked to Syn. They retreated upstairs to her room. Syn stared at the floor, tears welling in her eyes.
"Sweetheart," Freyja began, brushing her daughter's hair behind her ear. "Just tell me."
Syn took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm pregnant."
"And who is the father?"
Syn burst into tears. Freyja wrapped her arms around her, and her daughter leaned into her embrace, burying her face into her shoulder. Freyja's mind immediately jumped to how Sigyn was conceived, and her blood ran cold. Atum wouldn't have come back, would he? Why would he do something like that to Syn? Tears filled her eyes. Why would he do it to me?
"Volsak," Syn choked out. "Volsak is the father."
It took a moment for Freyja to process what Syn had said. "Volsak? Why?"
Syn just cried harder.
Freyja fought to keep control of her anger. How could you be so stupid? She wanted to rage. Stay calm. Get all the facts first. "Syn, did he force you?"
There was a long pause and she shook her head.
"Did he coerce you? Drug you, get you drunk, anything of the sort?"
"No." The word was a whimper. "I was mad at you, and so I approached him."
HOW could you be so stupid?! Freyja closed her eyes. We all make mistakes. How could you have been so stupid as to get involved with Faraldar? "How far along are you?"
"I figured it out just before you announced you were pregnant again. Are you furious with me?"
Freyja paused a moment to take notice of her emotional state. "No. I'm furious with myself."
Syn looked up with red eyes. "What?"
"I've set a terrible example for you and your sisters. I never wanted any of you to end up with my problems on your shoulders..." Freyja held her daughter closer. "On the bright side everybody will be blaming me. You'll just be the poor child who didn't stand a chance with me as your mother."
Syn choked out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "This isn't about you, Mor!"
"I know. I just want you to know that I love you. And I am here for you, no matter what. I will help you get through this."
"Will you really?"
"I will." And Volsak had better stay away from you from now on!
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Atum was cleaning blood off his sword when a figure emerged from the shadows around him and sat across the fire. He smirked slightly, raising his eyes to meet the golden ones in the tawny face.
"Hello, Sekhmet," he greeted.
"Father."
Atum contemplated his daughter. "What are you doing so far from Heliopolis?"
"Thoth sent me to look for you. He is very concerned."
"About what?"
"You."
"He has no need to be concerned."
"You have not been seen in the Nine Realms for over thirteen years. We have heard nothing from you. Not even the Mother Goddess can say where you are or why you do not return. This is no need for concern?"
"Go home, Sekhmet. You have found me, as Thoth sent you to do. I have my reasons for staying away. The demons I hunt do not confine themselves to nine realms!"
Sekhmet's brow furrowed. She was quiet for a long time. "My uncle also told me to deliver a message. 'Some secrets are best made known.' I do not know what it means-"
"You have delivered your message."
"If it is demons that you battle, I can help. I am a warrior, this life in the city makes me ill."
Atum hesitated for a moment. He did crave company, and Sekhmet had always been a fierce fighter. Without her help, he would still be fighting the wolf-demons that Chthon made centuries ago. She could hold her own in a battle against Chthon's pets.
"Very well," he agreed. "You may stay, for now."
Sekhmet nodded, and Atum went back to cleaning his sword.