Triumph 32

The wind roared out it’s anger, the sound deafening, drowning out all other noise. Snow was stirred up and blown about, flakes of it tumbling down to land on the white powder that coated every inch of the land, the flakes sticking to trees and people just as insistently as it did the ground. It was a white hell, as far as the eye could see endless snow spread out in either direction, broken up only by the ice crystals, the distant looming mountains in which the Frost Giant King Thyrm made his stronghold.

An eagle’s eye view of Jotunheim would show a single, solitary speck walking across the snow, foot prints being filled in by the falling snow almost as quickly as they were made. Upon closer inspection, one would see it was a person, a man half the height of the giants who made this land their home. He was clutching a light gray cloak around his body, and his face was hidden in shadows cast by his hood, snow flakes sticking to the warm spool cotton of his clothes. The figure pressed on, fighting against the wind, little by little making progress deeper into the valley.

Down the sloping plains the figure traversed, taking slow, careful steps so as not to slip and slide down the icy slope. It would take the man nearly an hour to cover the ground, at last coming to the base of a mountain. The hooded figure paused, staring at the mountain critically. It would seem he had come to the end of his journey, and to the keen observer there was nothing to distinguish this patch of ice from any other.

But a hand was raised, black leather sleeves wrapped around the fingers for added warmth. Palm up and facing towards the crystal wall of the mountain, the man concentrated, red and black ether swirling around his wrist. A beam shot out of his hand, and it struck the wall, making the crystal waver as though it was liquid. More and more energy was poured into the crystal, and soon it faded away, revealing that with which magic sought to hide. A door, a magnificent thing made of cold iron, it’s gold glided hinges well oiled.

The figure approached the door, body language reading cautious, and once again the hand was raised. A fist was made, the hand dropping to knock against the door. The bangs reverberated, loud clanging that could wake the dead, revealing the strength in that slender arm. He kept on banging, slow, leisurely knocks that didn’t betray the urgency he felt. At long last his patient was rewarded, the door opening, a frost giant standing at the entrance.

The frost giant had icicles for hair, jagged points of crystals sticking up in every which way, some glinting with blood frozen on the tips. His eyes were an ice blue, and his breath hissed out, echoing the wind when it roared. “Who goes there.” demanded the giant, squatting down to peer at the little man.

The man touched his hood, drawing it back to reveal his face. Deeply tanned skin, and short cropped black hair was revealed, the man grinning up at the giant. “Hello Brisbane.”

“Loki?!” The giant smiled, and it was all teeth, a horrendous grin that would have a lesser man fleeing in terror. “What brings you out here in the dead of the night?!”

“I’ve business with you Brisbane.” Loki said, and the smile faded off the giant’s face.

“If it’s about that business with Lady Idunn…” He began nervously. “I want you to know that me and the boys had nothing to do with Thiazi’s insane plot.”

“Of course not.” Loki said soothingly. “I know that your hands are innocent…” He paused, a smirk crossing his lips. “Of that crime at least.”

“Then what?” Brisbane wondered out loud.

“I’ll tell you, but first…let me in out of this blasted snow storm!” Loki ordered, gladdened that his divine blood, a mix of both Aesir and Vanir, kept him from fully feeling the effects of the cold wind.

“Sorry…I forget that you other…creatures…don’t much like the cold.” The way Brisbane said it, it sounded as though he considered anything that wasn’t a frost giant to be a lesser species. Snow crunched underfoot, the giant moving to the side to admit Loki into the mountain.

Loki swept past the giant, stepping into the outer ring of Utgard, the chief city of Jotunheim as far as the giants were concerned. The gate swung shut behind him, Loki ignoring Brisbane for the moment to shake out his clothes, causing snow flakes to litter the ground. It did not matter, for even here snow was everywhere, covering the floor. But at least inside the mountain, they were away from the wind, away from the danger it posed, and it’s tendency to carry voices to ears all too eager to eavesdrop.

“Walk with me Brisbane.” Loki ordered as though this was his home and not the giant’s. He began navigating the pathway that curved to the left, walking as though he knew where he was going. And indeed he did, the Trickster God having been here countless times before. Deeper and deeper they traveled, entering the lower levels of the mountain, seeing doors that led deeper into the stronghold.

It was only when they were behind one such door that Loki spoke, settling down on a couch carved of ice. “Well…have you no drink for dear old guest?” He arched an eyebrow at the giant, watching as the creature frowned.

“Loki…why are you here…?” demanded Brisbane, lumbering closer to the God.

“I find your lack of hospitality most disappointing…” commented Loki, giving a graceful shrug of his shoulders. “But no matter…it’s not your hosting skills I have come here for.” He leaned back on the couch, trying to get comfortable on his stiff perch. The Frost Giant sat down next to him, casting his body in shadow as he stared down at the God. “I have a job for you…” Loki explained, fighting to keep the mad grin off his face.

“A job eh…?” Brisbane stroked his chin, ice shavings falling off at the caress of his fingers. “What kind of job?”

“What other kind is there?” Loki demanded. “Surely you don’t think I risked coming all this way, taking care to not teleport into Jotunheim so as not to be tracked by my ether signature for something…that wasn’t on the shady side.”

“Yay…but you used ether to open the illusion on the door.” pointed out the frost giant. “Isn’t that risky?”

“The amount of ether I expended to cast away that feeble illusion is hardly enough to warrent worry.” Loki said unconcerned. “Already it should have faded away, carried on the wind so as not to leave behind a trace of my power. However…” Loki leaned forward, eyes intent on the giant. “Do you want to talk about that, or the job?”

“The job I guess…” Brisbane said, shrugging his shoulders. “Does it pay well?”

“Indeed it does.” Loki said, hand slipping into his cloak, removing a small leather satchel. “Catch.” He tossed the bag into the air, the giant lashing out with one meaty fist to catch at the satchel. Large fingers fumbled with the delicate ties of the bag, spilling gold into his hands. “That’s ten percent of your pay up front. More to come when you deliver the package to me.”

The blue of his eyes gleamed as they reflected the shine of the gold, the giant smiling as he gazed on the money. “Must be some job to pay this well. Tough too, eh?”

“Perhaps.” conceded Loki. “There’s an element of danger to it. You may find yourself with more than you bargained for in attempting to acquire the package.”

“Just how dangerous…?” demanded Brisbane, reluctantly drawing his gaze away from the gold. “I don’t want to end up like Thiazi.”

“You won’t…you won’t…” Loki was quick to assure him. “Not if you do exactly as I say…”

“And what do you get out of this?” Brisbane wondered, taking care to stuff each and every coin back into the satchel. “What could you possibly want that’s worth this much gold?”

“I want…to play a trick.” grinned Loki, and the giant groaned.

“Of course, I should have known.”

“It’ll be the trick to end all tricks…” added Loki, a slow smirk crossing his lips. “A way to welcome the new God to Asgard.”

“New God? Yeah…” The giant nodded. “I heard rumors about Odin’s replacement.” He shook his head. “You got some balls wanting to mess with him.”

The smirk widened, Loki nodding in agreement. “I mean to spirit away his greatest treasure…so yes…I suppose I do.”

“…And how will I get to this treasure?” demanded Brisbane. “Surely it’s locked up tight in Valhalla…I don’t want to have to face all of Asgard to get it!” He shuddered, the couch shaking with the force of his trembles.

“Relax…” Loki soothed. “Leave that to me. I’ll get it out into the open so you can get your hands on it.”

Brisbane was silent for a moment, just thinking it over. At last he nodded. “All right. I’m game.”

“Good…” Loki’s smile widened, the God leaping to his feet. “Gather your boys Brisbane…it’ll take the whole mangy lot of you to pull off this prank!”

————————————————————————————————————————————————-

In Valhalla, not everyplace is perfect and pure, not every hall gleams with silver and gold. There are some places that are meant not to be seen, kept far, far away from the God’s eyes, hidden away in the deepest parts of the stronghold. The dungeon was one such place, dirty and dank, smelling of decay with the wails of prisoners sounding night and day.

The place Frei found herself in, wasn’t as bad off as the dungeons, though it was drab, with gray plaster on the walls, and a dull stone floor that held no carpet across it’s surface. It was clean, the faint smell of soap in the air, the girl finding no trace of dust as she touched the walls with her gloved fingertips. Plain wooden furniture was spread out among the halls, looking uncomfortable to the young Goddess’ eyes.

Frei shivered, hands touching her upper arms, rubbing them for warmth. She was disturbed to see such plain surroundings in the shining realm, thinking these halls looked more like something that would be found on Midgard. She listened to her booted heels clicking on the stone, echoing loudly throughout the hall. No Frei did not like visiting the servant’s quarters at all and she despaired to think of her sister living in such a place.

Her footsteps speeded up, Frei walking faster, casting nervous glances in open doorways. She knew no one could hurt her here, and yet she was worried. To the young Goddess the servant’s quarters were one step up above the squalor of the dungeons, Frei not wanting to spend any more time than necessary here. She walked and she walked, until at last she reached a doorway that was cast in the warm glow of a lit fireplace.

“Hello?” Frei called out, hand poised to knock on the door. She peered into the room, seeing several people standing about. And among them, her golden beauty out shining the drabness of the gathered mortal souls, was her sister. “Freya!!” shouted Frei, hurrying into the room. Her sister turned, surprise in her green eyes, staring in shock at the approaching Goddess.

The other souls reacted to the Goddess’ presence, soft murmurs and whispers as they dropped to their knees, bowing to her. Frei ignored them, all but running towards her sister, arms spread wide for a hug. “Freya!! I missed you!!” She threw her arms around her sister, hugging her tightly. She was overjoyed to hear her laughter, Freya returning the embrace, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Calm down Frei!” Freya exclaimed, pulling back from the hug.

“Calm down?!” demanded Frei, hands on her hips. “But we haven’t seen each other in so long!”

“You exaggerate my dear…” Freya shook her head, but still she smiled. “We just saw each other not too long ago.”

“Yes but that was…” Frei shook her head, feeling the hint of tears in her eyes. True it had been a short separation, Frei seeing Freya the night of Lezard’s introduction to the Gods, but it had been a brief and painful reunion.

“Shh…don’t cry…” Freya whispered, thinking it odd her sister was so emotional. Hadn’t they just seen each other a few short hours ago? “I’m here now, and you can see me whenever you like.”

“Yes.” agreed Frei, a watery smile on her lips. “Thanks to Lezard’s generosity.”

“Er yes…” said a displeased Freya. “Um Frei…can they get up now?” She gestured at the servants, the young Goddess startled to see them bowing, seeming to notice them for the first time. She hastily gestured for them to rise, offering a kind smile on her face. They did so gratefully, and all but two found an excuse to leave the kitchen, unnerved by the young Goddess’ presence.

“So you…live here now?” Frei asked, trying not to show the upset on her face.

“Well not in this room!” Freya sighed. “But yes…I do…”

“Oh…”

“Would the Lady Frei like some soup?” asked the old man who had stayed behind, turning a ladle in a heavy black caldron that hung over the open fire.

“This is Andhrimnir.” introduced Freya. “He cooks all the meals for us, and the einherjar.”

“Oh!” Frei’s eyes widened. “You are the one who prepares the nightly feast in the hall of Odin!” The man nodded, scooping out a bowl full of soup. He pushed it into Frei’s hands, the girl inhaling deeply of it’s scent. “It smells wonderful.”

“It tastes even better.” Freya smiled, finding food was one thing she liked about being mortal.

“And you…” Frei nodded at the middle age woman, whose chestnut brown hair was streaked with gray. “What do you do?”

“I am Fulla…” She announced proudly. “I was the handmaid of the Lady Frigg until…Odin’s replacement arrived.” Worried shone in her eyes, the woman fearing what had become of Frigg.

“Oh…pleased to meet you…” Frei nodded at the woman, smiling.

“What brings you here at this time of night Frei?” asked Freya, receiving her own bowl of soup. She sat down at the table, gesturing for Frei to do the same. Fulla and Andhrimnir discreetly moved to the other end of the kitchen, quietly talking to each other. Occasionally glances were cast in the sisters’ direction, but aside from that they left them to their privacy.

“I just couldn’t wait to see you.” Frei answered, stirring her spoon through the thick soup. “I was worried…”

“Worried?” questioned Freya, spoon paused before her lips. “About Lenneth?”

“Lenneth?”

“Yes. You’re wondering how she’s doing aren’t you…?” Freya sighed, setting down her spoon. It clattered into the bowl, strays droplets of soup splattering onto the table. “I’m worried about her, Frei…really worried. She was sick today, so sick…I fear what that mortal has done to her.”

“The Lady Lenneth is sick?” Frei was surprised by the news. “I hope it’s not serious!”

“If only she would have let me get Eir.” A distracted Freya mused, still frustrated by the Goddess’ stubborn refusal.

“I’m sure Lady Lenneth knows her body best.” suggested Frei. “If she felt there was no need for Eir’s healing touch, then I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

“I hope so Frei. I truly hope so.” Freya murmured, surprised by the concern she felt for the Goddess. She tried to tell herself it was only because she reminded her of the other Lenneth. That and the fact that Lezard would act even worse if Lenneth wasn’t around to keep him in check.

“Perhaps I could stop by for a visit tomorrow…?” A hopeful Frei asked. “Surely Lady Lenneth wouldn’t mind the company…”

“Yes…she’d like that.” Freya said, thinking how Lenneth had enjoyed being around Frei though their time together had been short. “I’d like that too.”

“I’m glad.” Frei smiled, then sighed. “It’s rough not having you around. I…” She hesitated, unsure if she should remind her sister of her former glory.

“What is it Frei?” urged Freya, seeing the look in her sister’s eyes.

“It’s just…all your responsibilities have fallen to me!” A hint of a whine came through in Frei’s voice. “It’s too much to handle!”

“But it’s good to keep the titles in the family.” Freya said, her expression neutral, hiding her pain. “I’m sure you’ll do a fine job as a Fertility Goddess.”

“It’s not the fertility I mind so much as the battle and death parts.” Frei sighed. “How did you do it Freya? How did you keep up with nine different sects to over see?”

“Frei, if you want my help, all you need to do is ask.” Freya reached across the table to cover her sister’s hand. “I’d be glad to help you get settled in.” She said, giving the young Goddess a squeeze.

“Thank you sister.” Frei said gratefully.

“Anytime…” Freya said, biting back a sigh.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

With a sigh, Lezard set down the ledger, his hand reaching up to adjust his glasses. He glared at the revealed papers, eyes stormy with anger at the messy handwriting that covered the page. It left him squinting, trying to figure out the words, trying to make heads or tails of what letters the writer had intended to use. Was that an a or an e? A p or b…? Lezard shrugged, tired of trying to puzzle it out.

The messy handwriting was not the worst of the lot, but it was the most annoying. The Gods wrote in whatever language they felt like, only some of them showing a courtesy to Lezard in writing in the standard Norse of Midgard. Some of the Gods even went so far as to write in rune, forcing Lezard to do the painstaking task of translating as he read. It made going through the paper work a time consuming task, one Lezard felt could better be spent in Lenneth’s arms.

Lenneth. He glanced at her, and all hints of anger evaporated from his eyes. He couldn’t stay upset when gazing upon her beauty, staring at her peaceful slumbering face. She wore a hint of a smile, sweet lips curved upwards as she dreamt, snuggling closer to her pillow.

He stretched out his hand to her, for one brief second hovering it over her face. And then he was touching her, gently caressing her cheek, marveling once more at the softness of her skin. To his regret, his touch roused her, dark eyelashes fluttering as she opened her eyes.

“Hey.” He said softly, gazing down at her.

“Hmmm…” She made a noncommittal noise, loathe to fully awaken. “Is it morning already?”

“No…not yet…there’s still some time.” Lezard told her. “Why don’t you go back to sleep…?”

“I’ll try.” She agreed, then frowned up at him. “Have you been up all night with the paper work?”

“I took the occasional nap here and there.” He lied, not wanting her to worry. She pursed her lips together, a thin line that said she didn’t believe him. “How are you feeling?” He asked, hoping to distract Lenneth from his sleeping habits.

“Better…” She admitted, slowly sitting up. “I told you all I needed was some rest.”

“I see…” Lezard looked at her, and this time it was he that didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “I still think we should have Eir check you over.” Lenneth was shaking her head no, and Lezard sighed. “Lenneth please…if not for you, then for me. It would put my heart at ease to know the healer has given you a clean bill of health.”

Lenneth was silent, avoiding his eyes, forcing him to take hold of her chin. He gently turned her face towards his, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Why does the thought of seeing a healer bother you so?”

“It doesn’t.” insisted Lenneth. “I just…”

“Just what?” He prodded when she trailed off.

“I just know my body, and know this is nothing serious.” finished Lenneth with a sigh. “But…if it happens again…”

“If it happens again, I will personally take you to see Eir.” Lezard said, his voice a dark threat. “I won’t have you dying on me Lenneth.”

She laughed, though she was ill at ease with his words. “I’m not going to die Lezard…”

“No. You’re not.” agreed the new God, a grim smile on his face. He was moving, leaning his face in close to her so that their breaths mingled. He watched her watch him, seeing her eyes widen slightly as he went to caress her lips with his own.

“Lezard…” She said, stopping him before he could fully seal his mouth over hers. “The last time I was sick…I changed…” The words came rushing out, Lezard listening quietly to her fears. “I went from being Creator to returning to my origins…to becoming just a plain Goddess again.”

“Oh Lenneth, you are anything but plain.” Lezard interrupted with a smile.

“You know what I mean!” She retorted, shaking her head. “Could I be changing again?”

“Changing into what?” wondered Lezard out loud, and Lenneth shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know…” She whispered, and for a second he could see the nervous fear on her face.

“Lenneth…” He took her by the shoulders, hugging her close to his chest. “You have nothing to fear…nothing…!” He repeated when she started to protest, bowing his head so that his forehead rested against hers. “Oh Lenneth…why didn’t you tell me what was on your mind sooner?”

“I guess I thought by talking about it, it would make it more real.” Lenneth replied, sighing. “Pretty foolish, huh?”

“Yeah.” Lezard nodded his head in agreement. “I don’t want you to ever hold back from me, no matter how silly or unimportant you think your concerns are. All right?”

“All right…” Lenneth agreed, a small smile blossoming on her face.

“Now…are you really feeling better?” Lezard asked, gazing deeply into her eyes.

“Yes Lezard.” Lenneth replied. “Whatever that illness was, it’s passed now.”

“Good…I’m glad…” He placed a kiss on her forehead, seeing her smile grow. “But I’d still feel better if you let Eir look you over come tomorrow morning.” A sigh then, Lenneth looking very much like she wanted to protest. “I won’t take no for an asnwer.” He said, a tad chidingly. “Not in this Lenneth.”

“Fine…” She said, a hint of exasperation to her tone. “I’ll let Eir examine me. Are you happy now?”

“Quite.” grinned Lezard, this time placing a kiss on her lips. He meant to keep the gesture innocent, a chaste expression of his love, but at the touch of her lips he grew heated. Unable to help himself, Lezard pressed his mouth harder against hers, lips working to beguile her mouth open. Lenneth didn’t protest this, the parting of her lips signaling her compliance in this matter.

His hand wound it’s way into her hair, gripping her by the back of her head. Lezard held Lenneth still as he kissed her, feeling her hands touching his chest, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt. A few more firm kisses at her mouth, tongues stroking together, and then he was pulling apart, just enough to hear her gasp. He reacted to the sound, things low on his body tightening in interest.

“Lenneth…” His lips grazed her chin, and down they slid, tiny reverent kisses along the front of her throat.

“Yes Lezard?” Lenneth asked, still held immobile by his hands, biting her lip to keep from moaning. He didn’t answer, not in words, finding his mouth was too busy worshiping at her flesh to form coherent sound. His other hand was on the move, landing on her thigh, fingers bunching up the material of the night gown she wore. He then smoothed his hand down, across the satin material of the gown to the silk of her skin, fingers caressing against the inside of her thigh.

Another kiss, a passionate claiming of her lips, and then he was lowering her down to the pillows, hand shoving her night gown up higher on her body, revealing her belly to him. His hand lay flat against her stomach, and Lezard paused, raising up off of her to gaze down at a breathless Lenneth. “Are you really sure you’re not sick?” He asked, his eyes gazing at her face critically.

Lenneth stared up at Lezard, realizing he had given her a potential out with his words. They gazed at each other in silence for a brief minute, words unspoken between them, and then she was nodding her head. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“I’m glad…” He was bending down again, Lenneth assuming his intent was to kiss her. But instead he pressed his cheek against hers, lips situated near her ear. “Because I don’t intend to let you sleep any more of the night away.”

She shivered at the dark promise in his words, feeling his teeth catch hold of the lobe of her ear. Lezard playfully sucked on it, even as his hands were moving, caressing her body, making her wiggle and writhe beneath him. He kissed his way down from her ear, finding the side of her neck, searching out the pulse point that beat more rapidly at his touches.

Lenneth sighed, blissful and at peace, but a stray thought worried it’s way through her mind. “Lezard…” She pushed at his chest, and he reluctantly allowed her to move him. “What about your work?”

Lezard merely offered her a mysterious smirk, and then he was lashing out with his foot, shoving the ledger and all it’s papers onto the floor. “Work’s over and done with for tonight.” He announced, returning his lips to her flesh. Lenneth did the only thing she could do in this situation…she laughed.