Odin stood at the gateway of the Bifrost and gazed out over the cosmos. He was quite proud of this particular invention of his and Heimdal’s. From the Bifrost, anyone could see any part of the universe and watch its present passing. Heimdal, of course, could see the present passing for any and all parts of the cosmos regardless of where he stood whereas Odin could only focus on a handful at once. As always, when Odin gazed out, his first focus landed on Jotunheim. Seeing nothing alarming, the All Father let his thoughts wander as he gazed out on the other realms.
In the ten centuries years since the end of the All Souls’ War, everything had remained calm if tense between the two immortal realms. However, the thousand years that had elapsed for them were equivalent to over ten billion years for the mortal realms. Perhaps a little more since the physical realm had existed for as long as the immortal realms. Time itself had only been measured roughly between the two after the end of the War. Still, the All Father was impressed by what he saw. The flighty elves of Alfheim had gone through several dozen cycles of civilization. The dwarves had finally come out and begun making the most marvelous inventions a few centuries back. And the humans had sprung up so suddenly — barely a century ago. They were just beginning to lay down their first civilizations. Such a short-lived race with so much potential. Odin had a feeling that they would wind up having a huge impact on the cosmos.
In that thousand years, his sons had grown into childhood and several other children had been born. The two boys had a playmate, Sif. Thor spent most of his time playing at war with Sif, Tyr, and Baldur. Loki often tagged along, using the lessons in magic that he’d learned from Frigga and the cryptic knowledge he’d gleaned from the Norns to ‘aid’ them in their ‘battles.’ However, when Loki and Thor were at odds — an uncommon but not infrequent occurrence — Loki spent most of his time with Bragi, Nanna, and Idunn. Still, most of the time, Odin and Frigga had to watch out for the boys and their friends who were constantly underfoot. Thor was already clamoring to be allowed to join in patrols with the older Asgardians and to be allowed to test his strength against the Jotuns. Loki, on the other hand, seemed to have no desire to leave the glowing realm of Asgard and frequently pleaded with Thor not to leave either. His two sons and their playmates were why Odin had Heimdal watching Jotunheim constantly and why Odin himself, at least once a day, stood on the Bifrost and checked the Jotun’s home realm himself.
“I wish I had Frigga’s foresight,” Odin muttered as he continued his study.
“It would be useful,” Heimdal agreed, pulling the ruler of Asgard from his thoughts. “However, it comes with its own set of problems.”
“If only there were some way to know what they were planning…” he sighed. “But our spies always get found out.”
“The Jotuns are fiercely devoted to each other. Odd for a race dedicated to the destruction of all life.”
“I just have this feeling that they are planning something. Something major. Every time I think of them, the hair on the back of my neck stands up.”
“Are you certain this is a true premonition, All Father?” Heimdal asked. Odin regarded the other Asgardian and saw no censure on the man’s dusky face. His amber eyes were clear, serious, and held no misgivings. Odin relaxed slightly. He was unused to anyone questioning his judgment. “I speak only the words from your own mind, my king. You do hold Farbauti’s son hostage.”
“Loki is not a hostage!” Odin replied angrily. “He is my son just as much as Thor is!”
“I mean no offense. However, you did not always feel so strongly. Once, you feared that Frigga had planted the seeds for a new war just by taking the infant.”
“That was different. The Jotuns have never given any sign that they suspect their prince is with us. Perhaps they think he died…”
“What are your plans for the boy, my liege?” Heimdal asked. Curiosity colored his tone and expression now. Odin regarded the Watcher somewhat suspiciously. Only Frigga had any inkling about the hope that lived in the Asgardian king’s heart. “You do nothing without a plan, Odin,” the other man said pointedly, his somber voice somewhat chiding. Odin blushed slightly, the pink tinge of embarrassment giving his gray eye a sparkle of color. The scar from Laufey’s attack stood stark-white from the heat of the All Father’s chagrin.
“In my heart, I hope to raise him as my son. Should Frigga and I be blessed with a daughter, I hope to wed her to Loki and bring a lasting peace between the Jotuns and the rest of creation. Thor will one day ascend to the Throne of Asgard. Loki, bound to my line by marriage and adoption, could then take the Throne of Jotunheim and lead his people knowing that he had the might of Asgard at his back.”
“And what does the Queen of Asgard say to this plan?”
“She says that Loki’s bride has yet to be born but that she will spring from a union unholy to her people and to ours. She says that Loki’s bride will be born of bloodshed and violence, of the deepest hate, and will be cursed and cast out, bound to the Eternal Cycle of Mortality, enslaved and ignorant, marked for bondage and suffering,” Odin sighed. “She also says that Loki’s bride will carry a drop of my blood but no more and no less than that.”
“No wonder you are so disturbed,” Heimdal said calmly. “That is a dark fate for a babe yet unborn.”
“It is,” Odin whispered, his voice hoarse with the memory of how terrified Frigga had been when she foretold this fate. He still felt guilty about pressing her on the matter but when her bleeding had been late, Odin had been so full of hope that she carried the child who would unite the two royal lines that he’d begged her to look into the future. Instead, he knew that she carried another son for him. If they would ever have a daughter was something she could not see. “He will need to be strong and gentle to help her overcome it,” Odin added with a shudder. Frigga’s face flashed into his mind. Her eyes had been filled with tears and her visage as white as fresh-fallen snow while she gave the foretelling. Her normally musical voice had been grating, rusty, and near the end of it, she had begun screaming, clawing at her eyes as if blinding herself would remove the horror she saw. Odin had been forced to bind her hands to keep her from injuring herself until the vision ended. She’d been bedridden for days afterward. Eostre and Eir had nearly exhausted themselves caring for their Queen. Odin was thankful that the episode had not triggered a miscarriage. “I pray that her vision can be altered,” he said softly.
“Has her foresight ever yet failed?”
“No,” Odin replied. “But still… I pray that the future she saw will never come to pass.”
Frigga lay on a swooning couch in the shade of her balcony and gazed out over Asgard. One hand rested on her belly in a protective, maternal gesture even though it was far too early to feel anything from the child growing inside her. Her dressing gown — woven of light cotton — was cool and comfortable and, for once, the children were playing quietly in the garden that the balcony overlooked. She could not tell what game or fancy of their imagination they were acting out but they were not arguing or shouting in their childish version of war. On the table next to her was a stack of books that her sons had brought for her. The children’s books of stories were from Thor while the heavy tomes about magic and science were from Loki. She smiled softly as she glanced at them. Each of her boys tried their best to distract her from her worries by bringing her things that they imagined she wanted. Of course Thor focused on stories of adventures — that was his nature. Loki, with a maturity that belied his years, devised a travois to drag heavy reference tomes he could barely decipher the titles to on subjects he knew Frigga enjoyed. Every day that she’d been ill her sweet sons had brought her a different gift. The flower bracelets and necklaces woven by childish hands were preserved by her magic and stored with the precious jewels and talismans in her jewelry box. The drawings and finger paintings that demonstrated more enthusiasm than skill or coordination hung alongside the great works from Kvasir and Vor. The rambling story they’d spent the better part of an afternoon acting out for her was a memory she would hold dear alongside the memories of her wedding and the first steps and words either child had spoken. The quiet visits from Loki where he showed her how much he’d learned from his tutors and the more boisterous visits from Thor where he demonstrated the war-lore he’d gleaned from his tutors were times she would treasure above all the wealth her husband had bestowed upon her.
“What are they doing now?” she wondered aloud as the quiet in the garden was shattered by screams, shouts, and sobs. Her heart began to race and she swung her legs from the couch, standing up with the words of a spell on her lips ready to protect her sons and their friends from whatever danger had appeared in their midst. The outcry devolved into some kind of heated discussion with many side-long glances at her and a lot of emphatic gesturing. Then, as a group, the cluster of children began making their way towards her, their feet dragging, heads down, and lower lips either protruding or being gnawed on in discomfort. Thor looked angry and Loki looked traumatized. Sif and Nanna both seemed more curious than any other emotion and Bragi and Tyr sported looks of confusion and disgust. Frigga sat back down and waited for the milling group of young ones to approach her. From the garden, she could see Freya, the nurse of the day, struggling to stifle a look of amusement. Frigga’s concern changed to curiosity as the gaggle of children clambered up the winding staircase and spilled out onto the balcony. None of them would meet her calm blue gaze for more than a few seconds. They shuffled over towards the couch and flopped down with the boneless grace that came with their small bodies until only Loki and Thor were still on their feet. Thor shifted his glare between his brother and his mother while Loki struggled to keep hold of a tome that had to weigh at least ten pounds. He held it against his chest with his arms wrapped around it and looked perplexed. “Is everything all right, my dears?” Frigga asked warmly.
“Is that book telling the truth, Mother?” Thor demanded angrily as he pointed at the book Loki was holding.
“I don’t know, Thor. What is the book about?” she asked, gesturing for Loki to hand it to her. Her eyes widened when she read the title and her confusion melted away to be replaced by maternal amusement as she flipped through the pages. “I’m afraid that the book does tell the truth, little ones. However, this is a subject you shouldn’t be learning about for quite some time,” she explained as she set the tome aside and tried not to laugh. The Queen of Asgard had the feeling she was going to be fielding a lot of questions and dealing with several sets of irate parents after today. “Why were you looking at this?”
“Because we wanted to know when the baby would get here,” Loki answered. “This book said it had all of the information on pregnancy and childbirth.”
“It says that it’s going to hurt you a lot,” Thor muttered sourly. “Why are you doing something that will hurt?”
“Because it’s just how it is. I want to give you two another little brother and your father and I both want you to have another brother. It only hurts for a little bit, though, and it’s not all bad.”
“Can you have two babies at once?” Sif asked. “Is that how you had Thor and Loki?”
“A woman can have two babies at the same time,” Frigga replied carefully, dodging the issue.
“Do they come out at the same time? Does it hurt even more then?” Nanna asked curiously. “And how do they get inside the woman to begin with? Are they always there and you just decide to have one? Do you get to decide if you’re going to have a boy or a girl or does the dad decide that?”
Frigga took a deep breath and tried not to laugh or glare at Freya who had finally made her way up the stairs and onto the balcony. It looked like this was going to be a long and awkward explanation.
Loki and Thor sat quietly in the room they shared. Each had been offered their own room but the brothers preferred to stay together. It was late at night and their bellies were still full from supper. They’d made certain that their mother got twice as much to eat as anyone else because Thor had overheard one of her attendants saying that Frigga was now eating for two. Loki thought that Mother and Father had both looked amused at the size of her portions and he’d felt a little silly but when she ate everything, Thor had been delighted at being so helpful and Loki had felt relieved that they’d guessed right. The idea that Mother was going to be hurt when their new brother was being born didn’t sit well with either of them but as Father had explained, they couldn’t change reality. Father had told them that their mother chose to do this knowing it would hurt her for a little while because the pain was worth it. Neither boy had understood what their father meant when he’d told them that they would probably never be able to comprehend any woman’s mind but the day would come when they looked forward to their own wives having children and were grateful that the women were willing to suffer the indignity of pregnancy and childbirth for them.
“What do you think Father meant about us having wives one day?” Thor asked. Loki grimaced at the ceiling before rubbing a hand over his eyes and sitting up in his own bed. His brother was laying on his stomach on his bed across the room. His feet were in the air, his head propped up in his hands and a puzzled look on his face. “Do we have to get married when we grow up?”
“I think so,” Loki said carefully. “I’m not sure. I think that it’s just something you do when you grow up like getting a job and going to war.”
“Uncle Frey isn’t married and he’s a grown up,” Thor pointed out.
“Maybe he’s not grown up enough?”
“Master Kvasir isn’t married either and he’s definitely grown up enough. He’s older than Father.”
“He was married,” Loki countered. “His wife got killed by a frost giant.”
“Oh yeah,” Thor sighed. “I forgot.”
“It happened before we were born,” Loki said magnanimously. “That’s why you don’t remember it.”
“Do you think that Vidar is going to get married soon? He moved out of the palace and built his own hall.”
“I don’t know,” Loki admitted. “Maybe?”
“What does it mean to be married anyway? Is it like being best friends?”
“I think it means you have to live in the same house and sleep in the same bed and share everything and give each other presents all the time like Mother and Father do. You also have to get married to have children.”
“So if you want to have kids like us, you have to be married or else you can’t have them?” Thor asked, his blue eyes wide.
“Yeah,” Loki nodded thoughtfully. His own blue eyes were clouded with confusion. “I’m not sure why it’s that way but it is.”
“Father did say we have to deal with reality and that reality isn’t always nice,” Thor offered. “It must be one of those rules like ‘if you throw a rock in the air, it will come back down.’”
“I suppose,” Loki shrugged. “Do you want to get married when you grow up?”
“I dunno. Never really thought about it.”
“Yeah. Me neither.” The two lapsed into silence again. After a while, Loki laid back down in his bed. He could hear Thor’s sheets rustling and guessed that his brother was climbing under his own blankets in order to get to sleep. Loki closed his eyes and began to drift off but his brother’s muffled voice brought him back to awareness.
“Who would you want to marry if you have to get married when you grow up?”
“No one that I know right now. You?”
“I dunno either. She’d have to like weapons and fighting, though. Whoever you marry will have to be really smart and like to read and do magic like you do.”
“Yeah,” Loki sighed. He was very sleepy. “Brother?”
“Hm?”
“’Member to make sure Mother gets double pancakes tomorrow at breakfast, k?”
“Yeah,” Thor muttered sleepily. “G’night.”
“’Night.”
The sounds of soft snores soon filled the room. From the doorway, Frigga and Odin shared amused smiles. Their sons were unaware of their parents spying on them. Hand-in-hand, the couple tiptoed towards their own bedroom sharing knowing looks with the other adults they passed in the corridors. The story of the children’s lesson in reproduction had made its way across Asgard with lightning swiftness. Once Frigga and Odin were safely in their own chambers, they began laughing until tears streamed down their faces and they were clutching their sides.
“The poor dears, trying to look out for me and not really understanding anything at all!” Frigga giggled as she knuckled a tear from the corner of her eye.
“They’re good boys and they’ll be good husbands one day. Provided, of course, that they ever manage to understand what marriage actually is.”
“I think they have a fine grasp on it for being children.”
“A better grasp on it than on the mechanics of reproduction,” Odin chortled. “That is going to be a conversation to remember.”
“Creator help us all. I think explaining the whys and wherefores of the bedroom can wait until they’re old enough to notice that boys and girls are different beyond just wondering why Sif and Nanna have to sit to use the toilet.” The two grinned at each other again before Frigga pulled back the blankets and got into bed. “Now, All Father, why don’t you tell me what is really troubling you?”
Odin sighed. His wife could see through him as if he were made of clear glass. “It’s the Jotuns.”
“Have they done something?”
“No. They’ve done nothing. It’s just a feeling I have. I feel like they’re just waiting. Waiting for the perfect time to launch another war — one that will kill many innocent mortals.”
“Perhaps you’re wrong. Maybe it’s just hearing what lies in store for Loki and worrying about the new baby that has you thinking things are going to go wrong. After all, Thor was born at the end of the last war.”
“Perhaps,” Odin sighed as he stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the bed. “Perhaps.”
The next morning Odin had to bite his lips to keep from grinning as he watched Loki and Thor watch Frigga like a pair of hawks while she struggled to eat the giant stack of pancakes and the double helping of sausages that they had piled on her plate. She dutifully swallowed every bite with a delighted smile. Odin finished his breakfast and excused himself. Today was the day he heard cases from the rest of Asgard and sat in judgment over disputes. As much as he wished he could stay with his family and watch his wife gorge herself on a breakfast that would give even a starving warrior pause, he had duties to attend to. He made his way to the throne room, entering through a side-door that opened directly onto the dais. He hurried over to his throne and sat down so that everyone waiting on him could rise from their kneeling postures and begin pleading their cases.
By the time the morning was gone, Odin was wondering just how a realm as peaceful as Asgard could have so many petty disputes. As he listened to a case involving a pair of farmers whose flocks had mixed and who were now arguing over who owned the lambs that resulted from it, he prayed that something would happen to break the tedium. Maybe if he got through this case, he could break for lunch and see what Frigga and the boys were up to. There were only a few other cases waiting after this one. If they were short ones, he could hear them before lunch and…
The rear doors opened to admit a rider on horseback. Odin rose from his throne wondering just what dire news was coming. The rider’s cloak bore Heimdal’s sigil so Odin knew that was no joke. When the rider reached the base of the dais, he dismounted and raced up the stairs and knelt before his king. Odin motioned for the messenger to rise. “What news?” he asked the man.
“My liege,” the messenger said breathlessly, “the Jotuns have launched an attack against Nidavellir and Midgard. Thousands have died in the minutes it took me to reach you with this news.”
“Rally the armies,” Odin said hoarsely. Had he really been wishing for something to break the tedium? Perhaps he should have been more specific in his wishes. “We must defend the mortals.”