It was the day of the wedding. Freyja's house was a flurry of preparations as the girls hurried to do their hair and makeup and not wrinkle their dresses. Freyja was wearing her best gown (and by best, it mean most revealing), the one she didn't get to wear very often. Brisingamen hung around her throat and she wore the ruby tiara that Idunn had collected form Vanaheim. Skadi was not attending, and thankfully Njord was no-where to be seen. It was bad luck to start one's wedding by murdering one's father.

She glanced around at her daughters. "Is everything ready?"

"Everything except us!" Idunn struggled to fasten her sash while Var was fidgeting with her hair.

"Hold still, Idunn, you're making this twice as hard as it needs to be!"

"Will you all be this annoying when I get married?" Nanna groused, slapping away Syn's hand. "My hair is fine!"

"Alright, alright, I tried..." Syn backed away. Lofn was pinning the tiara in Freyja's hair.

"Is Uncle Frey here yet?"

"He just arrived. He's getting the dwarves into the garden," Snorta announced. "Alti, Sif, and Frigga are coming up the pathway, too. I'm surprised that Sif is here, she's never had anything to do with us!"

"Hey, she's my best friend," Sigyn replied.

Syn rolled her eyes. "Your friend, not ours!"

"She's here to show support for our family," Sigyn shot back. "She's not going to start throwing mudpies!"

"Too bad. I'm hungry," Var joked.

Freyja shook her head. "Anyone would think you were all still children!"

"We are," Idunn replied. "We're your children!"

Freyja smiled at Idunn before checking her appearance in the mirror. "I think all is prepared."

"What, you don't have a place waiting for your mother?"

Freyja broke into a smile and rushed over to embrace Gaea, who had just entered. "I'm glad you came!"

Gaea returned the embrace warmly. "Have I ever missed an important event in your life?"

"No," Freyja smiled. "I feel nervous for some reason."

The girls gathered around.

"Well, do you have any questions about your wedding night?" Idunn asked, very seriously.

Freyja burst out laughing.

"No, I think I'm covered there!" Freyja chuckled, tapping her daughter's nose.

"Alright," Gaea interrupted. "I think it's time you girls headed outside."

Freyja's daughters filed obediently outdoors. Gaea turned to Freyja.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You know you will be mourning in a few weeks."

Freyja squeezed her mother's hand. "I'd be mourning either way. At least this way I'll know I've given him something he wanted."

Gaea sighed. "I just wish I could spare you more pain."

"As you once told me, pain is the heart of everything." Freyja smiled. "It's time I go get married again. Funny, isn't it? I always vowed never to wed again and here I am!"

Gaea smiled wryly. "It just goes to show: life surprises us."

"You know, I've never asked. Have you ever married, Mother? Or wanted to?"

"No."

Freyja waited, but no more explanation was forthcoming.

"Why not?" Freyja prodded. She'd never thought to ask this before... Gaea had had many lovers, surely marriage had occurred to her at some point?

Gaea smiled. "I'm not going to answer that, dear. But let's get you outside! Your groom is waiting.

Freyja smiled, letting Gaea lead her outside. She decided that she would find out why Gaea was evading the question, later.

#

Later, after the ceremony and feasting was past, Freyja and Brokk sat among a pile of gifts, unwrapping them. Freyja's family and the other wedding guests were seated around them, so they could be thanked for their gifts immediately.

"This is a very beautiful painting, Nanna," Brokk said as he opened the gift from her. He looked at the thing questioningly before glancing at Freyja for help in deciphering what it was.

"It's a self-portrait," Nanna exclaimed proudly.

Freyja smothered laughter as Brokk stared at the painting and then the girl, trying to find some resemblance. She shook her head at Nanna, who smirked.

"It may be an abstract self-portrait..."

Nanna went red. "I said I enjoyed painting, not that I had any talent!"

"It's beautiful, anyway," Brokk said, smiling like a proud father. He set the painting aside, facing everybody so that they could see it.

"That is a self-portrait?" Syn demanded.

Nanna turned away, her lip quivering. "It's my fourth attempt."

"I don't know," Sigyn said slowly. "I think it looks more like Mor."

That sent everybody into gales of laughter, and Freyja quickly grabbed the next present. As she began unwrapping it, Gaea gasped softly and strode forward to snatch it from her hands.

"Mother!"

"Sorry, this was meant to be given to you later, privately." Gaea retreated with the package. "It's not for now."

Freyja raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"No."

"Is it terribly inappropriate, grandmother?" Syn asked eagerly. "Something that should only be seen in the bedro-"

Snotra pushed her over. "You can't talk like that, the queen is sitting right over there!"

Syn glared at her triplet. "I'm sure the queen knows all about lovemaking!"

Frigga's face went red.

Freyja shook her head. "Enough, children!"

Brokk smothered a laugh.

Freyja looked back at her mother. "You've got all of our curiosities piqued, Mother, you might as well hand over the gift."

Gaea sighed and handed it back. Freyja quickly unwrapped it to find a plain stone with a number etched into it. She turned it over, brow raising, and then handed it to Brokk, who likewise looked puzzled. Both looked up at Gaea, waiting an explanation.

"It's a countdown. So you aren't taken by surprise."

Freyja's face whitened.

Brokk looked at the stone. "Thank you," he whispered, sounding surprised. "I... Thank you. That helps."

"Helps?" Freyja repeated, still white with shock.

"Yes. Now we don't have to be afraid of not knowing when our last day is."

Eitri hurriedly walked forward and took the stone. His face whitened as well. "Only fifty-three?"

Silence filled the room.

"It's better than fifty-two," Brokk replied.

Freyja's eyes filled. "I thought it would be longer."

"I thought it would be shorter," Brokk admitted. He slipped the stone into his pocket. "Next present."

He picked up the parcel when Freyja didn't move. "Who is this one from?"

"Me," Idunn said, subdued. Less than two months?

Brokk smiled, beginning to unwrap it. Freyja struggled not to let her tears fall. She looped an arm around Brokk's and helped him. Eitri quietly left the room, his shoulders shaking. Freyja managed a smile when she saw what Idunn had given them.

"Uh... I don't want to sound rude, but what is it?" Brokk asked, holding up the messily-stitched handkerchief.

"It's my first sampler. Mor taught me how to embroider and I did that one on my own." Idunn took a deep breath. "I always said that one day I'd give it... to my father."

Brokk's eyes overflowed. He held the handkerchief as though it was more precious than gold.

"Thank you." His voice was choked with emotion. Impulsively, Idunn hugged him. "Thank you," Brokk whispered again.

Idunn drew back, abashed, as Eitri came back in, red-eyed. He took his seat silently, wondering briefly what that hug was about but not wanting to bring attention to himself. The gift-opening when on without another incident.

Afterwards, the group remained and made conversation for a while, before Freyja noticed Brokk looking weary.

"We had best retire," she said, standing. "Thank you all for coming. I love each and every one of you."

"Love you too, Mor," the girls murmured back as they stood.

Eitri was the last to trickle out. "Are you coming back to the shop or staying here?"

Brokk yawned. "Here's closer... if you don't mind?" He looked at Freyja.

She shook her head, smiling. "Of course not."

He stood, and leaning on Freyja, allowed her to guide him to her room- or their room now, he supposed. They called farewells to the guests.

Once in the room, Freyja closed the curtains and stripped out of her wedding dress. Brokk smiled in appreciation at her body, but was too tired to react. He took off his own clothing and slipped into the bed. It was far softer than he was used to. Freyja slid in next to him, kissing him gently.

"Let's just sleep for now, Love," Brokk murmured. "I am so tired."

"I know," she brushed her hand through his hair softly. She lay down beside him, encircling him with her arms. He sighed in contentment and was asleep in seconds.

#

Eitri walked slowly back to the shop by himself. He entered, sighing as he felt the loneliness. Fifty-three days. How could he go on without his brother?

He absently fidgeted with a half-finished necklace, before throwing it to the ground. What was the point? Brokk would be dead in two months, and he would lose touch with Freyja shortly after that, and then... "No-one will even remember me," he murmured, tears in his eyes.

"What are you moping about?"

Eitri jumped. He spun on the spot to see- "Mother?"

His mother, a short stump of a woman (even for a dwarf) with jet-black hair, huffed at him.

"We didn't think you were coming!"

"I was not going to see my son married to some Vanir woman, but that doesn't mean I can't visit my boys, does it?"

Eitri shifted. "I wouldn't let Brokk hear you refer to Freyja that way."

"She's Vanir, what's wrong with calling her that?" Dis huffed. "Never thought I'd see the day!"

"Can I get you something, Mother? Some tea maybe?"

"No, thank you. So where's your brother?"

"Oddly enough, he's with his bride!"

Dis's brows furrowed. "What is he doing a fool thing like that for? It's the middle of the day, time to work not sport! Norns Asgard has made you soft!"

Eitri smiled fondly at his mother. "I have missed you."

"Don't start getting mushy."

Eitri sighed. "Mother... did Brokk tell you why he was marrying Freyja?"

"Of course not! Your brother tells me nothing. What business it is of these Vanir and Aesir to go messing with our traditions-"

"Maybe he would have if you let him get a word in edgewise!" Eitri interrupted. "Mother, Brokk is dying."

Dis's jaw dropped. "...what?"

"He has less than two months left to live."

Dis struggled to find words. "And he chooses to spend them with a Vanir!"

"He loves her, Mother!"

"Love. Pah. Pathetic!"

"If love is what he needs to be happy for the rest of his life, I say give him love!"

Dis shook her head. "I need to see him... where does his Vanir live?"

"Brokk and his wife need some time alone!"

"Wife! Pah! A repressive Aesir construct. I had no need of a wife!"

Eitri suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "Mother, you would have had a husband."

"Husband? What's this nonsense now?"

"Women have husbands, men have wifes."

Dis shook her head. "These terms are so strange!"

"It's their way," Eitri shrugged. "But really mother, can I get you some tea?"

"No, I said. What exactly ails your brother?"

"A mass on his brain."

Dis's hand flew to her mouth. "Just like your sire... how long?"

"Less than two months. Fifty-three days." Eitri stopped. "Just like our sire? Mother, am I going to die like that, too?"

Dis shrugged.

"You could try to be a little more compassionate!" Eitri shook his head in frustration. He turned on his heel.

"Where are you going?"

"To the healers! I'm going to see if they can tell me if I have a mass growing in my brain!"

"Eitri..." Dis's voice trailed off. "It won't be detectable until...

He stopped. He turned back. "Then what can I do?"

She shook her head helplessly. "Nothing."

Etiri turned away again. "Nothing that you know of. But Freyja has an Elder Goddess for a mother."

Dis's eyes widened. "Eitri, we do not tamper with nature!"

"Is it not tampering with nature to tear up the soil to plant a garden? Is it not tampering with nature to raise a calf abandoned by its mother? Is it not tampering with nature to cut our ore and jewels from the ground and reshape them? Why is that alright, but it is not alright to seek a way to stay being me until my death? Brokk cannot even twine two golden threads together anymore. He can hardly draw what he wishes to see crafted." Eitri's eyes shone with fear and tears. "This is my love. My life. If there comes a point where I cannot craft, then I will take my own life!"

Dis's eyes widened further and a hand flew to her mouth. "That is the most unnatural thing you could do!"

"At least I would know I had chosen it!"

"Eitri-"

They were interrupted by the little bell announcing somebody had entered the shop. Eitri glanced at his mother and then wordlessly went to see who it was. It was young Nanna, cradling a small pot in her arms. The dwarf's eyebrows raised.

"I brought you some soup," Nanna said awkwardly. "I thought you might be hungry."

"Thank y-"

"She's awfully young to be one of your lovers!" Dis's voice was scandalised. Nanna jumped a foot in the air, spilling some of the soup. "Do you sleep with babies now, Eitri? What has Asgard done to you?"

"Mother, this is one of Freyja's daughters, sired by either Brokk or myself. Not my lover!" Eitri snapped.

Nanna glanced from one to the other nervously. "Perhaps I should come back later..."

Dis ignored her. "So this is one of the girls you or your brother sired? She is beautiful. You should return to Nidavellr and make beautiful babies there, boy."

"She looks like her mother," Eitri replied, clearly used to this argument. He took the pot from Nanna. "Thank you." In a stage voice, he whispered; "Escape while you can!"

Nanna smothered a laugh.

Dis scowled. "I heard that!"

"I said nothing, Mother," Eitri replied.

"Of course you didn't." She snorted. She turned to Nanna. "What's your name, girl?"

"Nanna, my lady." She curtsied politely.

"Nanna? What kind of mother names her child Nanna?"

"Mine, my lady," Nanna replied quickly. "Firstborn daughter of King Njord, and a Valkyrie of Vanaheim."

"You say that as though it should be impressive."

"It is."

Dis sniffed, looking haughty. "Such titles mean nothing to me, girl."

"She is also known as the Great Whore of Vanaheim and flaunts that title quite regularly, if that is more relatable to you, my lady. Or should I call you Grandmother?"

Dis frowned. "Mind your tone, girl. Didn't anyone teach you to respect your elders?"

Eitri put his head in his hands as Nanna's expression darkened.

"Didn't anybody teach you to mind your manners?"

Dis's brows raised - and then she burst into laughter. "I like this one," she announced.

Nanna looked somewhat confused.

"If you're an example of your mother, child, then perhaps my sons did not make a horrible choice after all!"

"Even if I wasn't as example of my mother, your sons made an excellent choice!" Nanna replied hotly.

"Not by Nidavellir's standards."

"Then Nidavellir is wrong."

"That's what you've been raised to believe. Doesn't mean you're right, girl."

Nanna tossed her hair back, putting her hands on her hips - the spitting image of her mother! "My mother is the best catch a man could ever make. If you think otherwise, then you're wrong."

Dis smirked. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that."

Nanna pointedly turned her back on Dis, addressing Eitri. "I hope you enjoy the soup. I will return when it is more convenient." Turning on her heel, she strode out, her head held high.

"Mother, did you have to be so rude?" Eitri sighed after the girl was gone.

"She was just as rude. I see no reason why I shouldn't speak my mind."

"She was only being rude in response to your attitude!"

Dis shrugged. "Sit down and eat before your soup gets cold."

Eitri felt compelled, for once, to stand up to her. "I'm not hungry at present."

"Fine," Dis shrugged. "Then I'll eat it."

"I want to save some for later." Eitri grabbed the pot from her.

"What has gotten into you? You don't have a little woman tucked away that you're wanting to marry, do you?"

"No. But neither do I have to bow to your every whim!"

Dis shrugged. "I will go find your brother then."

Eitri grit his teeth. "Mother. Must you be so self-centered? This is why we left Nidavellir! I love you, Mother, but I can't stand you!"

Dis' jaw dropped. "Ingrate! How dare you?!"

The dwarf's gaze dropped. He hadn't meant to say it, but with all the stress that was building up... "I'm sorry, Mother."

Dis turned her back on him.

"I'm sorry. I'm stressed and tired and scared. I didn't mean it, Mother."

"Apologise" Dis's voice was flat. She kept her back turned.

I did! "I'm sorry."

Dis sighed heavily, turned back round... and slapped Eitri soundly round the face.

"Speak to me that way again, and you are not my son. Understood?"

"Understood," Eitri muttered.

"Now sit down and eat your soup."

Eitri sullenly obeyed.

#

Quick question. Is anybody actually reading this?