Freyja

                                                                  Chapter 1

Isolation. That's what made Freyja feel at peace. No one around, nothing but the trees and the animals and the feeling of nature. She pressed her hands against a tree, and rested her forehead upon its rough bark. She deeply inhaled the scent, and released all her thoughts. This was home to her. She had never known anything else.

Freyja, named after the Norse goddess of love, was beautiful, but not in a womanly way; she was more of an innocent beautiful, almost like a doe. She had light olive colored skin, and luscious, wavy, golden hair. Her eyes her large and innocent looking, and were as brown as the dirt beneath her. She had freckles dotted randomly across her nose, and she was as lean as a twig. The only thing different about her was the strange design of symbols, trees, leaves, and old Norwegian runes, tattooed all up her right arm in jet black ink.

The leaves rustled  over head in the wind, and it sounded like beautiful music to her. Freyja lived in the forests of Norway, in a tiny village. The village did not  have a name to travelers, for it was so tiny. It consisted of  seven houses, and one empty building that was used as storage, but also as a guesthouse for when travelers came by. But the villagers, they called it Freylan. Yes, it was also named after the goddess. It is a village legend that Freyja, the goddess herself, had come down to Earth and had built the houses  as refugee for some Pagans, who had been running away from the Swedish. Norway had been at war with Sweden for as long as the villagers could remember, and the Pagans were constantly running away from them, trying to keep their religion safe.

She wandered around the lonely forest, resting her hands against every tree that she passed. As she did this, she closed her eyes, and sang softly to herself a prayer to her own tune.

“Battle maids,

Steel sitters,

Fate weavers,

I called to thee.

Alone, inside myself,

I ask for your power,

to regain,

to renew-“

All of a sudden she stopped. Something wasn’t right…she didn’t feel alone. There was something nearby, and she could feel it. Squinting her eyes against the sunlight, she could make out a dark figure of...a man? Yes, it is a man, she thought to herself. She could tell by the way he was lean, yet muscular in the arms. Even though travelers did come by often, they were never in the forest. They stayed on the dirt paths, because the forests were considered dangerous or even “magic”.  

"Show yourself!” she called out, in what she tried to make a menacing voice. But, the man just chuckled to himself and took a step back, mocking her. “I mean it!” she shouted, this time reaching behind her to grab her bow off her back.

“Okay, okay, I’ll show myself. No need for weapons.” The man said with humor in his voice. He stepped forward, until he was standing in a patch of sunlight.

Freyja rolled her eyes.  He was handsome. She HATED handsome men. They were always cocky and believed they could get whatever they wanted. He was tall, and lean, but had just enough muscle in his arms to make him look strong. He had jet black hair that was long, but well kept unlike most of the men she had met. He had piercing green eyes that looked like the eyes of a cat, and he had tan skin like a farmer. He had some slight stubble on his face, probably because he had been traveling for days. And, he was barefoot.

She lowered her bow. “I see you walk barefoot, too?” she commented as she stared at his feet, not wanting to look up at his face.

He laughed. “Yes, well, I got attacked by some bandits. They wanted all my food, money…and my shoes. I tried to tell them that that’s no way to treat a Lord, but those silly bandits just don’t listen, do they?”

Freyja widened her eyes. “A pleasure to be in your presence, Lord,” she murmured as she curtseyed.

The “Lord” just laughed again and said, “Oh, no need to curtsey. I’m hardly a Lord anymore. I have gotten banished from my land. I am merely just a homeless man now. Call me Luke”

“Luke?” Freyja responded. “That is not a Norwegian name?”

“No, it is not. I am not Norwegian, I am just English.” He answered.

“Then how are you speaking Norwegian, if you are English? And why are you all the way out here?” she shot back, not believing a word the strange man said.

Luke just smiled and said, “Well, I was taught Norwegian ever since I was a little boy. My parents believed the Norse language was important to know. And I am out here because I was banished from England. And I decided to come here.”

“Seems unlikely,” Freyja said. “But, it does not matter. You should come to my village and eat some supper. I believe Mother has made stew.” Then she just motioned him to follow, and walked away. She didn’t hear him following, so she turned back to look. He was just standing there, hesitantly. “Well come on now! I’m not going to drag you into a cave and eat you!” Freyja called.

Luke smiled and responded, “Oh trust me, that was the least of my worries. I just...I really should be off now. I have to go…somewhere. But thank you for your kind offer, madam….?”

Freyja grinned and said, “My name is Ida.” Which of course, was a lie, but why would she tell this strange man her REAL name? Not a chance.

"Well IDA, it was very nice to meet you. Have a nice day,” Luke said, and winked at her. Then he strolled away until he disappeared in the trees.