We followed an orb of glowing moonlight light, created by magic, through the darkness of the tunnel. My bright sphere of silver light drew a smile from me, because creating moonlight had been the very first spell Valerie had taught me, shortly after Osgar returned her to Milbank, to blast away the blocks which kept me from remembering my life as Dunthryth. That first spell-casting practise, which had elicited the distraction Conn needed to slip away and hand himself over to Ragnar, seemed so long ago. A distant memory amongst a tide of history, almost insignificant considering all that had followed and all that went before. Yet there I was, Fríge once more, performing the very same feat of enchantment to guide gods to safety.
Something about that comforted me. There was a symmetry to it. The reality of our godhood had been what inspired Ragnar to request Woden's surrender in return for my safety. Creating moonlight had held me in awe long enough for my husband to place himself in captivity. That had driven me to go to Fenn, to call on the valkyries, and to destroy Ragnar. One small, innocuous act of magic had allowed so much to happen to each of us; for freedom to be lost and regained, that it seemed fitting that the same act of sorcery would lead my children and their allies into the future.
We passed through three more hidden, sliding stone doors before I finally permitted the staggering herd of escapees to sink onto the dirty tunnel floor. They sat among the cobwebs and slimy water that dripped from the ceiling and ran down the walls, not caring about the grime and spiders, because the corridor still proved cleaner than the cages they'd left behind. A grim reality, one some might never recover from, but I had to hope most could achieve some semblance of peace.
We had progressed far enough from the dungeon that even if Tiw blew apart the walls searching for how we'd escaped, I felt confident he'd find nothing more than a strange corridor between rows of empty, abandoned store rooms. A facade I'd created in the past to protect those I had rescued. Even if he made it passed my wards, I hoped he would believe that first corridor to be the extent of the hidden subterranean construction. Even if he managed to enter the second passage, he'd only find more of the same.
I doubted he'd have the patience for blasting his way into the third, especially when he could only guess that we'd left via the tunnels. I was counting on him not having the control to remove my wards, and on him not yet realising that I had returned to Ésageard to recover my true form and my memories. Let him think some other rebel had freed the prisoners, even if he couldn’t guess at how the miracle had been achieved. I hoped he thought I remained hidden by Milbank's walls, cowering out of sight, and that the unnerving prong of the fork of possible futures which led to him sitting on Woden's throne and finding me in his realm was unlikely to come to fruition.
Despite my concerns, the odds of Tiw following us into the forth tunnel were insignificant enough that I felt prepared to take a risk. Too many of those he'd held captive and tortured were beginning to slow and stumble, at risk of falling behind. They needed to rest, and I would allow it, at least until I could heal them enough to continue. Several sobbed in pain, while others stared vacantly ahead, too exhausted to cry.
Starting with those who relied on others to carry them, I worked along the line of prisoners, my magic seeking out those wounds which prevented them from standing unaided, healing them as efficiently as possible before moving onto the next injured man or woman. There were so many of them, and each littered with so many broken bones and stab wounds, burns, and bruises, that I couldn’t hope to heal anyone completely. Even goddesses had limitations, and my following on earth wasn't enough to allow for the frivolous use of magic. I needed to conserve enough of my strength to return to earth myself, before Leof panicked over my safety.
Still, I refused to abandon any of the prisoners, especially as I found two more sons amongst the most delirious and weakened of the escapees. Hermóđr had suffered a head injury, his brain swollen and bleeding, as if his skull had been recently clubbed or slammed against the floor, much as Ragnar had often done to me. The damage was easy enough for me to reverse, and not for the first time in my lives, my own skill at healing came as a relief. If I'd been any other goddess, except Eir, the goddess of healing, we would have been in trouble. Although that gave me another idea.
“Lofn,” I asked, getting my lady's attention again. “Is Eir among the prisoners?”
“She is but I'm sorry to say, my queen, she won't be much assistance at present. None of us will be. We're too hungry and weak,” my friend answered.
“That's alright, I can do enough to get us to the sanctuary, but having a healer amongst your number will be useful in the days to follow, as you recover your strength,” I pointed out, trying to smile. “I still have a war to help Woden win. If Eir can take over caring for our people once you are safely housed beyond Tiw's immediate reach, it would be useful.”
“I'm sure she would be happy to do so,” Lofn assured me. “And Fulla and I will do all we can to assist her.”
“Thank you,” I said gratefully, then reverted my attention to my patients.
Hermóđr recovered quickly, greeting me with the same teary recognition Thor and Höđr had done, but my final son proved to be another matter. Burns covered more than half of Meili's body, infected burns which oozed foul smelling pus from inflamed skin. Blood poisoning wormed its way through his veins, agonising and driving awareness and rational thought from his mind as his eyes rolled in his head.
The toxin in his veins had spread so thoroughly around his body that healing him proved to be a trial of endurance and patience, even for me. Every vein and capillary had to be examined and healed, every inch of flesh cleared of necrotic cells and gangrenous tissue. The stink of decomposition made me gag, and as I realised my son was rotting where he sat, I hated Tiw all the more for that understanding.
“After Gersemi told the guards about your last visit to the dungeon, Tiw had us tortured for information. Meili was the last, and Tiw's anger at being thwarted, at losing control of you and at getting so little from us, made him go too far,” Thor revealed as he crouched next to his younger brothers, between Meili and Höđr. “The dungeons were no place to treat such extensive wounds. It was too easy for them to become infected when left exposed amongst the filth.”
I nodded, my throat closing around a ball of regret as I croaked, “I'm sorry for all I caused when I didn't know the truth of who I was.”
I continued soothing Meili's injuries, cleaning the infection from his blood and erasing his burns as I brought him back to awareness. His skin was still knitting back together when his brown eyes regained focus, and accusation sparked in their brown depths, so intense his irises flared to gold.
“You left us!” my son yelped, his own innate magic seeking ineffectually to cast out mine as he tried to scramble away. “You left us with him! For centuries!”
“Meili,” Thor responded, his tone commanding, sounding far more like his father than I could remember him being in his youth, when hunting giants had been sport and when his rivalry with Loki had been good-natured banter rather than a matter of war. My son had grown up since I left Ésageard, and his mannerisms finally matched the man's body he'd inhabited since much earlier.
Thor had still been naive and rebellious when Woden and I left for Middangeard, but the intervening war had changed him, and that both made me proud and disheartened me in equal measure. I wished he'd never needed to rebel against Tiw and survive in a cage, even while I felt pride in his ability to do both. I wished he'd never had to order our people to fight, believing us to be lost. I wished so much had been different, even though my options had been limited by the knowledge that our strength had been failing, and that Tiw’s rise was inevitable. All I could influence was his subsequent fall, or lack thereof, if I failed.
“Meili,” Thor tried again as his sibling continued to back up. “Think about this, she came back for us. She chose to come back, even though we know Tiw wants to possess her. Lofn and Fulla told us the truth. Think, brother. She hasn't abandoned us. Our mother is here now, freeing us, healing you.”
Meili glanced at Thor and then back at me, stating bitterly, “I was still a child when Tiw put me in chains. When you vanished beyond reach. You were my mother and you left me here. What sort of mother does that?” he spat.
“A queen,” a valkyrie said from further down the line. “You were not all she had to protect, my lord. She is mother to all who follow her, not just those born from her womb. She paid for her choices too. She paid in ways even you can't imagine. I know, because I listened to her slaver rant about them as he begged and pleaded with me as I escorted him to Helheim, rather than to Valhalla where Tiw had promised him glory.”
“Ár,” I said in realisation. “You're the valkyrie who answered my prayers and disobeyed Tiw.”
The black eyed woman nodded, bowing her head. “My queen, I am. And despite all that has been done to me because of that, I do not regret obeying your command over obeying Tiw's. Hail Fríge. Hail Woden.”
“Thank you,” I said earnestly. “Both for your loyalty then and you continued loyalty now. I appreciate what you sacrificed to grant me my request.”
She managed to smile, heaving a slight shrug as she admitted, “That vampire tortured my king and queen. My sacrifice was little compared to what you gave up to ensure we got here, to this place, where we might yet regain what was lost.”
Thor watched me, the dark red slashes of his brows pulled into a frown. “One day, you will tell us all that you sacrificed, and Saga will write it into legends, and Bragi will write it into poems, and the world will never again forget what the mother of all people is willing to endure to protect her children.”
“I don't need sagas and poems,” I admitted honestly. “There was a time I used those tools to shape the world into one I could recover, but when this us over and done, I don't need to be remembered for the full truth. I just want... peace. To be free of war, weariness, and worry. To live a life unshackled, with my husband by my side, and my children safe at last.”
“Then that is what we will help you achieve,” Thor promised.
For a while we fell silent again, as I focussed on those who needed my help. Then, once those in need of healing were healed, and those in need of rest were as rested as possible, I encouraged my people back onto their feet again, continuing on our long trek through the stone tunnels, which echoed with our footsteps, at least until the roaring of water drowned out the sounds of our progress, rushing above our heads.
“What is that?” Hnoss asked, looking up at the stone ceiling, which was partially obscured by stalactites, formed by centuries of dripping water leaving mineral deposits along the length of the chamber.
“We're under the dam at the far end of the lakes that lead to the water garden. The sound is water rushing through the overflows. We're a long way from the palace now. When we reach the end of the dam, there's a short walk through forest to a hidden citadel where you should be safe for a while.” I explained. “Tiw hasn't yet discovered the sanctuary, it'll offer some shelter.”
“There’s a hidden citadel this close to the palace? And you didn't think to tell us before?” Meili demanded, despite Thor's censure.
“If I had told you before, one of two things would've happened, or perhaps both. First, the disappearance of Woden's heirs would've raised Tiw's suspicions and exacerbated the situation when he accelerated his plans, perhaps killing me and your father outright, and condemning all realms to his tyranny. Or the location of the citadel would've been tortured out of one of you at some point in the last millennium, and then we would have been fucked, to say the least, as I would've had no where to hide Woden's body or escape to when I was Tiw's prisoner, and you would have no where to escape to now. I did what I did to give us all the best chance possible. Believe me, I explored a million options. I followed each suggestion to its conclusion. I didn't make the decision to leave you undefended lightly, no more than I chose to condemn myself to slavery lightly, or sentence your father to Tiw's corruption of Valhalla. None of this was done is ignorance or spite, son.”
Striding onwards, I added, “We should keep going, I want to be within the hidden citadel by daybreak. Wandering the countryside in daylight will only increase the likelihood of discovery, especially as Tiw will soon have guards searching far and wide in the hope of locating you.”
At the far end of the corridor there was a stairway that led upwards, and to the right of it an archway that let into a room stacked high with tunics and britches, and more importantly cloaks and shoes. Even in the past, I'd understood that acting in haste could mean repenting at leisure. If anything, I understood that more clearly as Fríge than I had as Darcy. As quickly as I wanted to reach the hidden citadel, only an idiot would lead a group of naked and nearly naked people into the forest at night. Having feet torn by rocks and thorns would only impede our journey, and the night air would be cold after the stifling heat of the overcrowded cells.
“Get dressed, there should be enough clothes for everyone, and make sure you all have shoes and cloak. But do so quickly; we'll travel faster if appropriately shod, but we don't have time to waste,” I advised.
By the time we finally reached the last hidden doorway, at the top of the flight of stairs, which lead through the outer wall at the edge of the dam, even I felt fatigued. I hadn't exactly eaten well before abandoning my body last time, and I had used a lot of magic, even by my standards. Yet I pushed ahead regardless, knowing I still had tasks to complete before I could rest. Passing out into the night, I sealed the last stone door behind us, invisible to all but those who knew it was there, then ushered those I'd rescued into the trees.
The terrain made progress slow, inhibited by roots that tripped us, and hanging vines that grabbed our hair and limbs, as if determined to re-capture us on Tiw's behalf. The sound of badgers snuffling in the undergrowth, and wolves howling in the distance, made several people jump, eyes wide and white, fearful glances cast towards each and every noise as if the escapees expected Tiw or his guards to leap out at any moment.
Thankfully, so armoured stranger appeared with sword in hand, and no malevolent deity found us, promising war and retribution. Although the sky was already beginning to lighten as the last man stepped through the cloak of vines that his the crevice that led into the basin where the citadel had been built, the sun had yet to slip up over the horizon, and it was with some relief that I followed those I'd rescued back towards safety.
The gates were already opening as we reached them, and I arched a brow as Leof tugged me into his arms. “You were supposed to be back at Milbank already.”
“I know, but listening to your thoughts across entire realm is... fuzzier... than listening to you from the proximity of the same realm. I did as you asked and took the bodies of Vili, Sjöfn, Ve, and Syn back home, your cats too, but I had to come back in case you needed me,” he stated, and kissed me deeply enough to reveal how worried he'd been, even though his emotions had told me as much anyway.
“Father,” Thor interrupted, his tone unnusually choked as he stepped towards us and embraced Leof. “It's good to see you, Father.”
Leof engulfed his son in a bear hug, and then they were both laughing and crying and doing everything possible to destroy the image Antony Hopkins and Chris Hemsworth had worked so hard to portray. They were not comic book superheroes. They were better; a father and son who had spent to long apart, and too long unaware of the other’s fate, happy to see each other. Others crowded around Leof too, our sons and daughters greeting him while others dropped to their knees around us; gods, valkyries, and elves swearing their continued loyalty to us in a gesture that stole my breath and brought my own tears to my eyes again. Only one man neither greeted Leof nor knelt, and instead, Meili stalked across the courtyard until he came to a stone bench, where he lowered himself with his back to everyone.
“He'll come around,” Thor said, watching his brother.
“I wouldn't blame him if he didn't,” I replied, disheartened to realise it was true. “He was so young when we left. But it's bad enough we've lost Viđarr so thoroughly, and all the children we lost while human, without losing Meili to anger too.”
Leof pulled me against his side again, pressing a kiss to my hair as he murmured, “Give him time. If he's anything like me, he might pull away for a time, but eventually he'll realise that you always had everyone's best interests at heart.”
That much could be true, but I was too afraid of the alternative to look. In all honesty, the future exhausted me. I had planned and schemed, worried and waged war, and I had been tired of it centuries before becoming Dunthryth. Once Tiw was beaten, I never wanted to look into the future again. I wanted to be as blind as most others, with no knowledge of how fate intended to chew me up and spit me out. Hadn't I done enough? Given enough? Couldn't I pass responsibility for care of all of creation on to someone else?
As Leof urged our followers back to their feet, I wondered again if we could have a future on earth, as vampires rather than gods. Could we abdicate and let our heirs ascend to the throne of Ésageard. I longed to be... ordinary.
“If the myths you had me weave were true, then I was never supposed to rule in the aftermath of Ragnarök,” Leof reminded me as he took my hand again. “I never really thought about it before, when the myths never had me return. You only ever revealed what needed to be revealed, and when you said we could survive, I never considered that we might choose a different future, rather than returning to the throne we lost.”
“We'll talk about it later,” I answered with a noncommittal shrug. “If we win, we need to decide what we want, what is best for Ésageard, and what's best for Middangeard. But first we need to win. We'll do what is best for the people who need us, as always.”
Leof nodded, and motioned towards the citadel, “While I was finding Vili, Ve, Sjöfn, and Syn, I also opened up the store rooms. The charms we placed have held in all but two. I’m sorry to say the grain in one store is long gone, decomposed or eaten by vermin, and the clothing and blankets in another are little more than moth eaten rags. The others are all in tact though, perfectly preserved, just as you intended. There are seeds to plant as well, and weapons for both hunting and war. Everything our people need to get back on there feet, its all here.”
“Good,” I smiled, then focused on the last task I needed to perform before returning to Middangeard.
Heading passed the sanctuary, the mead hall, the temple, forge, and throne hall, I went instead to the buildings which had been carved into the mountain. I strode down a long corridor, following torches which Leof had ignited while carrying out his own mission, and descended down several flights of stairs, passed the darkened doors of dwellings and facilities, libraries, baths, and studies, which the newly freed could use to rebuild their lives. I descended into the vaults, passed rooms where magic preserved meat and fish, barley and oats, vegetables and fruit, and I went to the chamber I’d long ago designated as storage space for agricultural supplies.
Relief flooded me as I felt the tingling power of my own ward, confirming Leof’s claim that the store had been perfectly preserved despite all my centuries of absence. Some instinct I'd acquired during my human and vampire lives demanded I send a prayer of thanks skyward, but that seemed self serving, all things considered, and so I bit back the unnatural response and pushed my way into the room that would allow my people to replenish the stores.
The equipment, hoes and scythes, sheers and forks, would all be put to good use by those I'd helped to escape, once they had recovered their strength. Chests of tools sat alongside sacks of seeds, each with the names of crops crudely stitched onto the cloth. I needed none of those, not immediately. Planting the basics could wait, and so I passed the bags of seeds without pausing, reaching the far end of an aisle before I found what I was looking for; a small gilt chest.
The ornate box displayed the embossed images of trees and apples on it's lid and sides, and the latch had been shaped like an apple leaf. It was the last piece I'd ever requested the dwarf smiths make for me, and inside lay seeds taken from the golden apples of the palace orchards. The apples had once sustained and strengthened the gods. Not so completely that we didn't rely on prayer to fuel our power, but they kept our bodies strong, youthful. They prevented sickness, and cured illness that had already set in, and they were the last gift I could give right then.
Making my way back upstairs, I headed out into the red-orange glow of dawn, where those who had spent forever in cages turned their faces skyward, seeing sunlight for the first time in centuries. Leof raised his eye to the dawn as well, fascinated, even as he stepped instinctively back into the shadow of the mead hall.
“You can feel the sun on your skin, Leof. You have nothing to fear in that form,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he answered with a slight shrug. “But I have a millennium of conditioning to overcome.” His eye drifted to the box in my hands. “You're planting them now?”
“There are still injured and sick here. I couldn't heal everything while escaping the palace. The fruit these seeds can provide will do more to chase away infection and renew strength than I could do alone. One tree will provide fruit for many people,” I pointed out, then asked, “Do you want to see what I did in the clearing, in my shrine to your life?”
Leof nodded and followed me as I crossed the courtyard to a wide, undeveloped strip of land within the citadel's walls. Untended grass and meadow flowers swayed in the breeze, and for the most part I left the parkland green, dotted with splashes of bright colour, exactly as it was. Reaching out with my magic, I cleared several small patches of earth, then I opened the box in my hands, taking out the precious seeds one at a time, and carefully dropping each onto the soil I’d exposed, onto tiny islands of fertile brown among the green.
Once the seeds were nestled in their new earthen beds, I took a deep breath, and wound my magic into the ground again, into the seeds Id planted there. Using the same enchantment I’d used at Conn's ash, I triggered germination. Roots twisted down into the soil, then green shoots rose upwards, unfurling fresh, young leaves. The saplings continued to grow and thicken, shoots becoming trunks and branches as their leafy canopies reached higher, spreading wide, so that the rising sun cast dappled light and shadow beneath the boughs. Buds became blossoms, and petals fell around me like floral snow as I forced the lifecycle of my new orchard onwards. Flowers were replaced by fruit which swelled up, growing, ripening from bitter green to a golden colour not found amongst fruits of earth. The apples would be honey sweet, and more satisfying than any other food. They would aid in the recovery of those Tiw had tortured.
“Are they what I think they are,” a woman said behind me, and I turned towards Iđunn with a smile and a nod.
“Once upon a time, you tended the palace orchard and provided for the gods with its bounty. I thought you may wish to resume your position here. I had seeds brought from the palace before Tiw sent me to earth. Before I sent me king to earth, truth be told.” Offering the other goddess the box, I added, “There are a little few more seeds in the box and you can add them to the orchard. But I wanted to make sure I got you started, as a first crop will help Eir tend the wounded too.”
“You really aren't staying?” Iđunn asked, frowning.
“We have a war to fight,” I reminded her. “You will be safe here for a time, but it's not an indefinite solution. We need to defeat Tiw, and we need to ensure the survival of other allies too, those who will help us overthrow the usurper. What comes after the final battle... I haven't decided yet. But right now, we're needed in Middangeard.”
The goddess considered me, her expression fearful, at least until she nodded. “It'll take a few days for the apples to really improve our health, but afterwards... Many of us would fight for you. Our spirits have been broken, many times over, but for the first time in so long there's hope. We will stand with you.”
“Concentrate on recovering your strength, on living, on freedom, on learning how to live again,” I advised. “It may be that we ask you to stand with us when we take back Esageard and defend the liberty of every realm in existence, but first you need to recover. And I need you all to know that we won't demand you fight, to face down the very guards and oppressors who’ve kept you in a living nightmare. Those who wish to remain here, in safety, even when we take up arms, have every right to do so. You're free. You've already more than paid for your freedom. We expect nothing of you.”
A man came to stand by Iđunn, his matted hair and beard were long, and his frame so slight from starvation that it took me a moment to recognise him as her husband. Bragi only hesitantly reached for his wife, seeming unsure if he could or should touch her. I wondered how long they'd been kept apart. How long had they spent in cages, unable to seek solace in each others arms? As long as I'd spent in Ragnar's pit of despair, pining and fearful for the husband he chased until I believed he'd died, and grief had consumed me?
The thought made me shudder, and Leof closed the distance between us, wrapping me in his arms, even as Iđunn shyly slid her hand into Bragi's. They would be alright, I suspected. Or rather, I knew. In my soul, I knew they would be alright, and we could be too.
“You might not expect anything from us,” Bragi stated, continuing where I'd left off. “But we expect something from ourselves. All of us have wanted to rediscover the strength to fight at some point or another, and now we gave it. Our queen died for us, to bring us to this place, where she could free us once more. It wouldn’t sit well with many of us if we abandoned you through fear. If you need us, we will fight.”
“Hear, hear,” Thor answered. “You didn't raise us to cower.”
“You didn't teach us to break, even when we grew used to being beaten,” Gersemi added, and her sister smiled at the strength in her sibling's tone.
Leof smiled too, pride in his expression as he nodded his agreement, “Then if you want to fight alongside us, you will do so, because you are free to make a stand.”
Tugging my sons and daughters into another hug, with the exception of Meili, I took another moment to hold them, to persuade myself they were safe and that we'd all be alright, then I re-joined Leof, murmuring, “We should go home. Your brothers and their wives will have questions, and I need to rest. I've used a lot of magic, and I need to sleep before I attempt to recover Fenn, especially as I'm going to do this without a trade.”
“You're sure you can do that?” my husband asked. “You're sure we don't need Loki or Viđarr?”
“I'm sure,” I answered with a determined nod. “And if I fail, we'll be in no worse a situation than we were anyway. Viđarr is still an option.”
“Then let's go home, Little Warrior. I sort of deposited the bodies and your cats in the living room of the Sire's suite without explanation, in my hurry to get back here,” Leof stated, a picture of a rather sheepish All-father. “I'm going to need to speak to Vili and Ve.”
A laugh escaped me and I shook my head, grinning up at him, “Oh, my Leof, I adore you.”
Pulling me back against him, his hands slid down my back until they sat low enough to be indecent, holding me tight against his front as he kissed me more hungrily than our children probably wished to witness.
“I adore you too, mínu Fríge. Now, how about I take you to bed?” he asked, seconds before calling, “Bifröst!” and sending our atoms spiralling apart, tumbling through the ether in a flash of brightly coloured lights.
