Chapter Twenty- Eight
Freyja couldn't help but smirk as she took in the gala she had helped organize. Everything was perfect. She and Frigga had done a stupendous job. The event was in the royal banquet hall, decorated with tapestries celebrating all the heroic work healers had done in historic battles. Anybody with money, whether they had a title or family name attached to it or not, had been invited to feast with the royal family, for a small fee. Those who donated beyond the entrance cost were seated more eminently, closer to Odin and Frigga and their two boys.
"Lady Freyja, this is just a wonderful cause, I really must congratulate you on your efforts here," a rather old man, Lord Gloin, gushed overenthusiastically to her.
Freyja smiled. "Thank you, but it would be amiss of me to take credit for this. Queen Frigga did most of the work. I just organized the auction at the end of the evening."
Lady Agata, who was standing nearby joined the conversation. "And what will you be auctioning?"
"Jewellery. What else would I be auctioning? Unlike some people I don't sell off my daughters."
Agata lifted her lip in a sneer and stalked away with a holier-than-thou air.
"Excuse me, my lord," Freyja said to Gloin. "I must go powder my nose."
She made her way to the women's chambers set aside for the ladies of court to rest after too much ale, or to avoid unwanted male attention, or gossip, or whatever they wanted to do in privacy. It was empty when Freyja went in, and she quickly checked her reflection in the mirror; she had gone with a somewhat modest gown, one with a full skirt, off-the shoulder sleeves and a sweetheart neckline that didn't dip too far down. She wore Brisingamen, but no other jewellery, and her hair was done up in braids piled on her head.
"I could be wearing the rags of widowhood and they would still assume I was going awhoring!" she muttered angrily to herself as she reapplied her bright red lipstick.
"Mor?"
Freyja turned to see Sigyn slipping into the room, dressed in her pretty jade-green gown, her blonde hair braided down her back. "Is the feast starting?"
"Soon, I think," Sigyn replied. "Loki wants me to sit with him."
Disapproval was clear on Freyja's face. "I didn't pay for your plate just so that you could dine with him instead of your sisters."
A flush coloured Sigyn's cheeks. "He paid for a plate next to his for me, with his own money. Please, Mor?"
"What am I going to do with an empty plate?"
"Please."
Freyja shook her head in frustration. "Fine. Go sit with Odin's son."
Sigyn frowned. "I don't have to."
"I just said you could."
"But you don't want me to."
"No, I don't."
"But Loki paid with his own money!"
"And I suppose you think I paid with somebody else's money?"
Sigyn stomped her foot in frustration and stormed out without another word.
Freyja rearranged her skirts in the mirror, her lips pressed tight. She knew she was being unreasonable with Sigyn, but that didn't make her go apologise. Sigyn needed to learn how to deal with disappointment! She couldn't please everybody all the time, and she needed to figure out who was worth pleasing!
Taking a deep breath, she went back out to the hall. People were slowly starting to take their seats, so Freyja found her daughters and they found their name places. Sigyn was seated at the head of the table, sitting beside Loki already. She didn't look at Freyja.
"Look at that, we might end up with another royal sister," Snotra muttered to Sjofn and Idunn, snickering.
"You're all royal. I am a princess of Vanaheim, if you've forgotten, as well as being a lady of Asgard."
"Yes, but only Hnossa is a titled princess of my sisters," Snotra replied swiftly. "But when Sigyn marries Loki-"
"Sigyn isn't marrying Loki."
"Just because you don't like his father doesn't mean that Loki is an unsuitable match!"
"Let's not talk about this right now," Idunn interrupted sharply. "We're supposed to be here for a good cause, not prophesying Sigyn's future!"
"Yes, let's just enjoy the meal," Freyja said frostily.
The feast was loud, exuberant and full of laughter as feasts normally were. It was also peaceful, with only three fights breaking out. Freyja avoided the meats the best she could. The smell always made her feel ill during her first months of pregnancy, and the taste was sure to make her vomit. She kept a careful eye on Sigyn at the head of the table. She ate primly, chatting with Loki, giggling and blushing at times. Frigga smiled fondly at the two from time to time, Thor ignored them entirely, shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could swallow it. Odin, however, kept giving Sigyn and Loki disapproving looks.
Well, at least that's one thing we can agree on!
After some time, Frigga caught Freyja's eye and made a small gesture to her before excusing herself from the table. Freyja did the same, and the two women went to the women's chambers together.
"I'm sorry for taking you away from the feast."
"It's quite alright. I was done anyway."
"I don't think I've ever realised how repugnant some smells are." Frigga laughed slightly as she sat on one of the provided sofas.
"Pregnancy will do that."
"Sigyn tells me that you're expecting again as well?"
Freyja felt her cheeks grow warm. "Yes. I am."
"Nine babies. I don't know how you can do it."
"I've got good girls. And Sigyn is thirteen now. She's expressed giddiness at the prospect of a new baby in the house." Freyja sat down as well, putting her hands on her belly; her clothing was just starting to get tight. It wouldn't be long before she had to pull out her maternity gowns.
"Sigyn is a very good girl. Very demure."
Freyja laughed. "She's my little rebel, that one. Rebelling by not rebelling."
Frigga smiled. "I think she's a good influence on Loki. I've never seen him so happy as he has been these past few weeks."
Freyja didn't respond that Sigyn, too, seemed more buoyant of late. "Odin doesn't seem too happy about their friendship."
"Odin can sit on a pin," Frigga declared. "And I can say that because I'm Loki's mother and I know what's best for him."
Freyja snickered. "The auction should be starting soon, shouldn't it?"
Frigga nodded. "Yes. And I have been giving this some thought. I know that we were just going to exhibit the jewels on their own, but I think we'd have a better response if you were displaying them."
"I'm already wearing a necklace."
"You can give it to one of your daughters for the auction, can't you?"
Freyja shrugged. "If you feel that will bring in more profits. This is for charity."
"Thank you."
"Was there anything else?"
Frigga shook her head.
"Alright. I should get back to my girls then."
"I think I'll be staying in here for a little while longer. The smell..."
"I understand."
Freyja went back to her spot at the table, to find Snotra and Sjofn arguing passionately about which hair style was best for women in battle. The rest of the meal passed nondescriptly, and they all were shepherded into an adjoining room for the auction.
Frigga gave a short speech reminding everybody of the cause they were here for, Freyja handed Brisingamen over to Idunn and was applauded onto the stage, where the first necklace was clasped around her throat. The bidding took four or five minutes, and the piece sold for nearly a thousand gold coins. They moved onto the next piece. It continued on this way for quite some time, Freyja's face quickly becoming sore with her smiles as she modelled the jewellery.
The auction was winding to a close, with only half a dozen pieces left, when a loud, male, and very drunk voice shouted from the back of the room.
"I'll pay shree thoushand gold if'll the whore drops sher gown!"
Freyja stiffened immediately. There were some disapproving looks in the crowd; Frigga immediately went to a guard and began whispering, presumably to get him to find the drunk and eject him. There was some tittering laughter in the crowd.
"Four thousand!" another man shouted.
"Five!" the first replied.
"Six!" Another male voice joined in. "It's for charity, Freyja, drop your gown!"
Freyja caught sight of her daughters. Idunn, Var, Snotra and Sjofn looked uncomfortable and angry. Sigyn's face was utterly white.
"Seven!"
"Eight!"
"Ten thousand, if I get a night out of it too!"
Freyja hurriedly unclasped the necklace she was wearing, thrusting it into the hands of the auctioneer. She rushed to her daughters as the bids rose, and the comments became more lewd. Her face burned with humiliation.
"Let's get out of here!" she muttered; she caught a brief glimpse of Odin, who looked furious, talking rapidly to Tyr, who stood beside him. The god of war wasn't moving, though his gaze was on Freyja. She turned her back on him, feeling disappointment rise with her shame. Wasn't anybody going to try to defend her?
"Where's you going, whore?" the first drunk man slurred as she tried to shepherd her daughters from the hall. A hand caught her arm. "Twenty thousand then fer ya, whore!"
Another hand grabbed at her neckline; she heard fabric tear. The next thing she knew the man was on the floor, crying out in pain. Sigyn was there, punching and kicking him with all her strength, her face twisted with fury.
"DON'T CALL MY MOTHER A WHORE!"
Another man grabbed Sigyn's arm as blood spurted from the drunk's nose. Freyja started forward to defend her daughter, but she was too slow. The man twisted Sigyn's arm sharply, making her cry out. And then Idunn and Var both tackled him, Var punching him in the throat, Idunn pulling Sigyn back before kneeing him in the groin. Several guards were close by now, and Snotra and Sjofn both shifted into defense positions.
"ENOUGH!" Odin's voice rang through the hall, making both attackers and defenders freeze. The king strode through the crowd, everybody moving back for his passage. His eye glittered dangerously. "This man is drunk, take him someplace he can sober up," he snapped at the guards, gesturing at the fallen man. "As for you, Lady Freyja, I must ask that you and your daughters leave now."
"Funnily enough, that's exactly what we were trying to do before we were accosted!" Freyja snapped back, having to physically restrain herself from slapping the king. "Good day!"
She turned and, with an arm around Sigyn, who was sobbing by this time, marched out, her other daughters following. As soon as they were a decent distance, Freyja stopped to examine Sigyn. A bruise was already forming on her forearm.
"Are you alright?" Freyja asked.
"No!" Sigyn shouted back. "This wouldn't have happened if you weren't such a whore!"
It was like a physical blow. Freyja couldn't breathe. Her head swam, and she stared at Sigyn in disbelief. None of her girls had ever... she didn't know what to do or say.
"Sigyn!" Idunn gasped.
"It's true!" Sigyn sobbed. "I have to listen to it all the time. People are always saying 'You're such a good girl' and I know they mean 'despite your mother'. You're a whore, just like they say!"
Freyja opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Turning stiffly, she walked away, her back ramrod straight. She heard Sigyn let out another, louder sob.
"I'm sorry!"
Freyja heard Sigyn running after her.
"I'm sorry, Mor, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. I love you. Please-"
"Idunn, I think Sigyn should stay with you tonight," Freyja threw over her shoulder. "You can give the necklace back in the morning."
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Brokk and Eitri were sitting at their kitchen table when Freyja marched in. They quickly wiped their mouths and stood.
"Freyja, what are-"
"Do you want me?"
"What?"
"Do you want me? Right now."
The dwarves exchanged looks. "Freyja, are you alright?" Brokk began. "You seem..."
"I want one of you to take me!" she sounded near tears. "I don't want to talk, or think, just..."
Eitri eyed his brother. Brokk shook his head firmly. "Whatever's bothering you won't be solved by lovemaking. If you want to talk-"
"Oh, Surtur take both of you!" Freyja half shouted, turning and storming out. She scrubbed at her eyes as she walked heedless of where she was going, until she collided with someone.
"Oof! watch what yer doing, y' worthlesh..." It was Volsak. He was swaying on the spot, reeking of ale.
"Get out of my way!" Freyja snapped, pushing at him.
He caught her arm. "Oh, it'sh you. Whore of Vanal-heim..."
He tried to push him off her. He grinned loosely.
"Wanna have shome fun? Let's shee if y'r as good as yer daughter..."
"Remove your hand!" Freyja hissed.
"Volshak, whash ya got there?" another man was ambling towards them; Freyja recognised him from the tavern on the night that she had confronted Valsak about Syn. He wasn't alone; three other men were with him. Freyja's heart spiked.
Volsak shook her arm. "Ish 'Lady' Freyja!"
One of the men laughed. "Pretty lady! I heards that she was holding an auction in the palace."
"Maybe we can have our own auction," Volsak replied with a sly grin.
Not again! Freyja thought trying to pull her arm away. First that drunk at the auction and now here! "If you don't let me go-"
"What are you going to do?" Volsak leered. "Nobody's going to come to help you! They might even join in our auction."
She swung at him, but another of the men stepped forward and grabbed her arm. "I'll pay thirteen gold for 'er!"
Freyja threw herself to one side, smashing her skull into Volsak's nose and then stomped on the other man's foot. Both shouted and let her go. Another of the drunks jumped forward, but she slammed her palm into his nose and he staggered back, eyes watering. Freyja tried to bolt through the resulting gap, but Volsak grabbed her again, twisting her arms behind her back.
Another of the man slapped his hand across her mouth and squeezed tightly. Freyja's heart was hammering, and she struggled uselessly.
"Ya gonna keep squirming like that?" Volsak hissed into her ear, his voice lowered. The other men crowded around as he dragged her into an alley and slammed her against the wall. They pinned her there, pushing a cloth into Freyja's mouth to block her screams.
"Where's our auction at? Who gets her first?" Volsak asked, resulting in the other cheering.
Freyja's eyes were wide, but she refused to cry. I won't let them, she vowed. I won't let them!
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Odin sighed heavily as he marched past the market, heading for Freyja's house. Frigga had told him in no uncertain terms that he had to apologise for not stepping in sooner when Freyja was accosted at the auction. He heard the all-too familiar clamour of drunken men laughing. He ignored it until he heard the brief, smothered scream of a woman. Changing his direction immediately, making his way to the alley where the drunks were gathered. He soon recognised his wayward sister-in-law, being held in front of the knot of men, who were all calling out prices and jeering.
"Ten pieces of gold!"
"Whore's too cheap for that," one of them sneered. "Two pieces of silver!"
Freyja struggled, a cloth stuck in her mouth.
"What's wrong, beautiful? It's not as if those dwarves don't pay for ya!"
Freyja's saw him; her eyes were wide and frightened, pleading.
Odin pushed through the crowd. "Let her go."
Most of the participants lost their nerve upon recognising the king, and left, mumbling apologies. The one holding on to Freyja didn't seem to care.
"We were just having some sport, m'lord." He slurred. "It's not as if she doesn't ask for it!"
Odin's glare was steely. "Let. Her. Go. Now."
The man obliged, muttering under his breath. Freyja pulled the cloth from her mouth and punched him hard in the throat. He coughed and staggered away quickly. Freyja slumped against the wall, struggling to breathe evenly. She rubbed her sore arm.
"Thank you." Her tone was grudging.
He eyed her in distaste. Once, she'd been a lovely girl, a fine bride for his brother... but in the years since, he had often regretted the decision. Look what she became!
"Perhaps you would not get into such messes had you not sullied your reputation so many times. I suggest you make your way home to your children, Lady Freyja." He turned and strode away, not caring whether or not she listened. He had a feeling she wouldn't- she never had before! He remembered belatedly that he was supposed to be apologising...
"I would not get into such messes if you hadn't killed my husband with your foolish war!"
Odin whirled back, anger flaring in him. "My foolish war? You hold me responsible for Laufey's ambitions and villainy?"
"I hold you responsible for not protecting my husband, and for letting the war rage for so long!"
Odin's gaze was scornful. "And I suppose you would have done differently? What would your strategy have been, seduce the Jotünns into peace?"
Freyja's face went white with anger. Her fists clenched. Biting back a retort, she stormed off, brushing past Odin as if he were a commoner in her path. She wanted nothing more than to beat him for that snide comment, but did not really need to deal with a fine or brief exile at the moment. She made her way home, fuming. One day, I am going to tell Odin exactly what I think of him!