A tingle. A rush. The insects in my blood that I'd gotten to know years before when I wed her returned with full force when she fell in my arms. The boys' laughter. Their joyous song of games and naïve ignorance to everything that they'd escaped.
The river had honored me with a chance to save them all. To the river, I'd be forever grateful. Perhaps in Mother's eyes, I'd redeemed my every selfish deed and earned the treasure of my family.
I could hardly wait to get home with them and hear about what I'd missed in my time away. Vali clung to my leg tightly and refused to let go, riding along as I walked. Narvi held Sigyn's hand and nuzzled against her arm in a gentler fashion to his brother. Our neighbors nodded toward me when I passed—some had a glimmer of appreciation in their eyes which said they'd conducted with someone who told them all about what happened at Don. As much as I'd wanted to see my Ginny before resting the night before, surprising her was sweeter. I would've chosen to do the same every time had I many opportunities to relive the moment in the center of our fortress.
"Father, Mum says I can't have a horse yet," Vali lamented, weighing more with each passing step.
"That time will come, little wolf," I said, patting his back to egg him off when our house came into view. "In the meantime, I'll ask if the owner of the steed I used would like your help so you can learn a bit. Would you like that?"
"Aye!" he cheered, sparkling and jumping in place.
"How about you, Narvi?" I asked, tipping my head to get a better look at his freckled face.
He flushed a light pink and nodded, bottling his excitement a bit.
"Just so long as you teach them to be safe," Sigyn said through a sigh. "I don't know the first thing about all that."
"You'd do well to learn too, Gin." I kicked my chin forward and the boys ran ahead to the house, letting me embrace their mother with her forehead against mine. "Gods, I missed you."
She hummed and stroked the side of my face in her gentle ritual. "Thank you for returning to me. I was afraid you'd remember how much fun you had out there doing...well, anything but this domestic business."
I chuckled. "Our life is far from boring."
"Father," Vali crooned while stomping his foot by the door.
"You see what I've been dealing with?" Sigyn whispered.
"Don't worry. I'll wear him out." I pecked her cheek and marched toward my feisty son, who had all the patience of a gnat, though I wouldn't have changed him one bit if I'd had the chance to craft him out of clay. Narvi, too.
In fact, my belly had a gnawing twist that grew each time I heard him laugh—deep down, I had new dreams and hoped my Ginny would agree.
"When will you tell us where you've been?" Vali asked after our late supper while I cleaned the table and let Sigyn rest. A wide-eyed and nodding Narvi supported the inquest at his side.
"Like I said before, it might not yet be time to tell you."
"ˆPlease?" Vali somehow gave his gaze a glassy sheen that made him appear younger—a spell that only he could cast given his stature and cloying frown.
"Nothing that will give them nightmares," Sigyn said as she rocked with her eyes closed in the gliding chair before the fire.
I wiped my hands dry and stretched my back, even more grateful now that even after the river's fruit seemed to have worn off, the repair to my shoulder remained and left me pain-free. "Alright. I'll tell you a story. You sit."
They squealed and sat in front of the fire, joined by a stretching Tiwaz who vied for attention by flicking his bushy tail until Narvi conceded and stroked his back. The cat surrendered on his lap with loud purrs that made Sigyn smile though her eyes were closed. Three happy boys, ready to listen.
"Let's see now. Once upon a time..." I started.
"Are you the hero, Father?" Narvi asked with furrowed brow.
I laughed and pet his head lightly. "Focus on the story."
He nodded, though the apprehension on his face didn't dissipate fully and he scruffed in Tiwaz's fur more aggressively.
"Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Once there was a land, quite far away, filled with people who suffered and struggled. They worshiped the gods and goddesses of Yggdrasil, the rulers of our universe, hoping to find answers to their ails—their starvation, their sadness, their illnesses. One of these wretches was a creature named Gorr, and he thought the gods should save his world. He thought it was their duty." I opened my hands and projected a sphere of swirling orange and yellow, much like the vision of Gorr's home I recalled from my taste of the river. Lightning crackled over its surface and a false wind gust throughout the room.
"But Gorr did nothing to better himself. He didn't think to leave, grow his own food, seek help from brethren...he lost everything while he did little but pray." The projected planet stained red all over while the boys cooed at the effect. "He blamed the gods for his plight. Cursed them. Cursed himself, too, so he might carry the burden of his endless hatred and anger. He believed they couldn't exist, because he hadn't been helped."
"Did you help him?" Narvi asked, far less amused by the lights in my projection than Vali.
I blinked a few times and debated how much I wanted to share with him. Should I state his title? His purpose on Vanaheim? The reason he came to hate us so? Mother came to mind—she framed everything with kindness. It was a talent I lacked. But I didn't want to risk frightening him at such a delicate age. "Yes, Narvi. Yes. In the end, I did help him. I...I sent him to the afterward to be with his family again. Gorr doesn't carry his burden of hatred anymore."
Narvi looked at his hands for a few moments. "Where is the afterward?"
Sigyn chuckled and stopped her rocking to hear my answer. "This will be fascinating."
"Don't presume I don't know how to answer these things, Gin." I ended the projection to address both of the boys. "The afterward...it's what I call the place our spirits go after this life. Where we go when we no longer live in these realms."
"What's a realm?" Vali asked, to more chuckling from Sigyn that I'd cracked some floodgate of questions. My own fault.
I cleared my throat. "To put it simply, it's where we live. Our universe is called Yggdrasil, the great tree of life. There are nine realms in Yggdrasil, and we live near the very top. Our realm is called Vanaheim. It's why the people around us are known as the Vanir. You've heard your mother and I discussing the Vanir, yes?"
They nodded.
"The Vanir are special people, and their realm is equally so. Magic runs through this world unlike anywhere else." I lowered my face to meet Narvi's eyes. "Before I left, I set out flowers for you to draw. Did you find them?"
He lit up, though Vali crossed his arms and huffed. It was evident they'd fought over my not bringing him back something special from my journey to the Vidar.
"Well, you should know there is no other place capable of growing such beautiful blooms. We live in paradise, my sons. The only paradise beyond this one might be the afterward, where we meet those we once knew and thank them for all we couldn't thank them for in life."
"That wasn't very exciting," Vali grumbled, avoiding my gaze.
"Oh, it wasn't?" I directed his face toward me. "Should I tell you how the evil beast tore out the heart of the Vanir elder?"
"Loki!" Sigyn admonished.
"Yes! Yes! Was there blood, Father?" Vali asked, forgetting all about Narvi's supposed win earlier. My softer son curled in on himself, disgusted in perfect opposition.
I stood and stretched my back again. "Sorry, Ginny. I'm just giving the boy what he wants."
"Aww," Vali fussed, standing with me. "But I—"
"No, no, my son. Your mother's right. When you're older, I tell you more of the story. For now, it's time to get you off to bed." I pecked the top of his head and nodded at Narvi to do the same. Once the children had given Sigyn their goodnight kisses and chased Tiwaz around the corner, I held out my hand for her to stand beside me in the firelight.
"You know you give very diplomatic answers to your sons. Do you think we'll ever tell them of Asgard?"
I shook my head through a sigh. "They'll learn of the other realms someday...of all their long-lost connections. But the boys have a promising future here. What good would it do to tell stories of a home they are not welcome in? They'd be too curious not to see it for themselves, and I can't let them step foot there while there's still a bounty on my head. And they aren't real heirs, despite my title—a royal throne of bloodline would only bring them pain. No...if I were to do this all again, I would want to be chosen."
She eyed me with a sideways glance, lilting the edge of her lips in a smirk. "What happened to my husband? It seems every time he goes to Don, he returns a different man."
"Yes. But only a man. Not a king, or a god, or a senator. Just Loki."
"Not to me," she said. Dragging her hand down the side of my cheek, she teased my lips with hers and leaned against me. It had been an eternity without her touch.
I hummed into her. "Not that I haven't traveled there enough lately, but Regin still has a ceremony ahead. Now that Hriedmar's gone—"
"Wait, he passed? When?"
"He was the elder. A real gruesome end." I shook my head. "Anyway, the boy needs support of those who want him to move forward. I was invited to return in a fortnight."
Her mouth hung open with pinched brows. "Again?"
"Not alone this time." I took both her hands firmly. "My Ginny, will you return to the city where we wed, so we might bid the new couple long life and good fortune?"
Her pulse quickened even in her palms, which was echoed in the sweet flush highlighting her cheeks. "Always."