The All-Father managed to mask his sadness when he heard that he’d missed the birth of his son, Baldur. Frigga had named the child and he had sent his blessings and accepted the boy into his house, naming him a prince and next in line to the throne of Asgard behind Thor and Loki. Still, Odin missed his children and his wife. His opportunities to visit Asgard were few and far between as the centuries passed though he always made it a point to ensure that his own men rotated out often enough that they spent at least one full year out of every decade with their families. The king of Asgard knew it wasn’t enough but there was little he could do about it. The Jotuns left him no other alternative. They had overrun Midgard, Nidavellir, and Alfheim. The dwarves and elves had been forced to retreat into the secondary realms of Svartalfheim and Vanaheim while the humans and other mortals native to the expansive cosmos of Midgard were hanging on, fighting an enemy far beyond their capacity. As yet, the Jotuns had not mounted a full-scale assault on the realm of Midgard. They were occupied with mopping up the last remnants of opposition in the dwarven and elven realms and solidifying their hold on those worlds.
“My liege,” Frey said as he approached Odin. “The latest reports from the Nidavellir front.”
“Did they manage to clear out their artifacts?” Odin asked. He had a very good idea of why the Jotuns were concentrating on the dwarven realm. They wanted the items that the dwarves had crafted and the power they contained. With even a tenth part of the dwarven treasures, the Jotuns would be able to easily sweep through Midgard and might pose a direct threat to Asgard itself. Odin could not allow that to happen. There was too much at stake. The Asgardian forces had already learned the hard way that the Jotuns were not the same mindless slaughtering armies they had been during the All Souls War. “Any hope of recovering the prisoners?”
“They cleared out all of the artifacts, my liege. As for the prisoners…that is much more difficult to answer, All-Father.”
“Why? We managed to free several dozen dwarves and nearly a hundred elves from the Jotuns in the last battle in Alfheim. I know they were ill and had suffered during their captivity but surely our healers are capable of restoring them to health, are they not?”
“The healers are no longer certain that there is anything that can be done to restore the prisoners, my king.”
“Explain,” Odin demanded. He was confused beyond measure at this. “Have their injuries been treated?”
“They have.”
“And have they been given food?”
“Yes.”
“Any illness that they carried has been healed, correct?”
“Physically, yes.”
“Frey, I can understand that those whom the Jotuns held captive are no doubt suffering psychological and emotional trauma. I know that our magic, powerful as it is, cannot completely heal those wounds. Is that what you are trying to tell me? That the prisoners minds are broken beyond saving?”
“Not just their minds, All-Father,” Frey said cautiously. “Their very souls are tainted. Some kind of corruption has befouled them. Some more than others. Some of the prisoners have absorbed this foulness into their very beings, making it a part of them. In time, it will twist them physically, changing them into something else entirely. With others, the taint is trying to seep in but they are fighting it off — it’s more like an oil slick on the top of a pure mountain lake. The water is untainted but the foulness is trying to seep down into it. Our healers have exhausted themselves trying to remove this stain from the prisoners but each time they manage to get any of it to leave, it returns. Only when the prisoner shakes it off themselves does it depart without returning.”
“I see,” Odin said breathlessly. “What do the healers recommend?”
“That we no longer waste so much energy trying to save the prisoners,” Frey sighed. “I don’t agree but this war has dragged on for close to a millennium. If we continue to exert ourselves too much now, we may find ourselves unable to continue fighting it much longer.”
“Perhaps this is what fate has ordained,” Odin replied sadly. “We will follow the healers’ recommendation for now. Take those we have rescued back to Asgard. Perhaps being there will help them fight this foulness.”
“Thor and Loki will want to return with me, my king,” Frey said, the warning clear in his tone.
“They are not ready for war,” Odin answered automatically. “They are just children.” Frey made a noise that sounded like a strangled gasp of disbelief. “What?”
“My liege…your sons are nearly men. Thor is quite skilled in all manner of warfare and Loki is a master of magic. Both are able strategists. I believe that they would be of great help to you.”
“They are just children, Frey. Why, Thor can barely saddle a horse, let alone lead a battalion and Loki still thinks that hiding Sif’s shoes is the grandest game ever devised!”
“Of course, my lord,” Frey replied with a quiet smile. “If you will, your wife has sent word that she would like to see you at our base in Alfheim.”
Odin sighed and shook his head. “Lead the way, Frey. I know better than to argue with you about this now. When was the last time I saw them?”
“One hundred and six years ago. And, the Queen did ask me to tell you that she has taken appropriate safeguards for her visit. She understands that your orders that she and the children remain in Asgard are for your peace of mind and for her protection. However, Baldur is old enough to be entrusted to the care of nurses and his tutors now and the other children are nearly grown so your wife would like to see you more often…”
“Not to mention that Frigga is one of my finest warriors, I know,” Odin muttered angrily. “One hundred and six years? Are you certain?”
“Quite.”
“Time… it’s the cruelest master of us all, I think,” the All-Father whispered to himself as he and Frey slipped through one of the gates between Nidavellir and Alfheim.
“Stop pacing, brother. It’s distracting.”
“I can’t help it. I want to be out there with the soldiers. I can’t believe that we were forbidden from enlisting.”
“I can’t believe that you thought we could just slip in among the regular soldiers without being found out.”
“We should have posed as elves or dwarves. That would have worked.”
“How would we have gotten out of Asgard to do that?”
“Don’t you know some way we could just… hop realms or something?”
“Magic doesn’t work that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t.”
“But it’s magic!”
“You might as well complain about gravity or electro-magnetism not working the way you wish they would. The simple fact is you can’t just hop between realms. You can only cross them where they touch or by using a point of concentrated power like the Bifrost. Theoretically, I could create such a point but there’s no way I could hide it.”
“I suppose you’re right. Still, I just wish we could join Father in the fighting. We’re men now. We should be allowed to fight like men instead of cowering in Asgard with the women and children.”
Loki sighed. Thor was right, of course. On that point, the two brothers agreed even when they agreed on little else these days. Idly, Loki wondered how it was that the two of them could be so different in temperament when they were raised by the same family and under the same circumstances. Thor was brash, loud, brave — every inch the bold warrior he’d been born to be. His shoulder-length blond hair was often darkened with sweat and he’d taken to wearing a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache as soon as he could grow them. His skin was bronzed from hours spent outdoors and he had a warrior’s musculature. The scent of horse clung to him constantly and he was rarely without his armor and a full complement of weapons. Thor and his friends often drank and sang songs about battle and boasted about the deeds they would perform as soon as they were allowed to join the ranks of the fighting men and women. Loki, on the other hand, was quieter. He had few friends. His skin was pale from the time he spent indoors studying magic and working on his spells. He wore his inky-black hair the same length as Thor but kept his own face clean-shaven. He was not weak but his strength was more of a wiry type — he was nimble where his brother had brute strength. The only weapons Loki has mastered aside from his magic were the staff and daggers. As he watched Thor resume his pacing, Loki sighed again. They were brothers but if they stood side-by-side, no one would realize it. Aside from sharing a certain breadth of shoulder and blue eyes, they were nothing alike.
“Maybe he will let us join him now,” Loki found himself saying. “After all, it’s been many years since he’s seen us.”
“It’s been over a century since he returned to Asgard,” Thor agreed. “And the last time he saw either of us, we were still tripping over our own feet.”
“That’s true,” Loki said, his eyes distant. “That was back near the beginning of the war. Before Alfheim fell.”
“I wonder what our lives would be like if this war had never happened,” Thor said suddenly, jarring his brother out of his thoughts.
“Very different, no doubt.”
“Why did the Jotuns attack, do you think?”
“They probably saw an advantage.”
“Yes, but what?”
“We don’t have enough information to say for certain. One thing I know,” Loki sighed. “I hate the Jotuns. They’ve taken Father from us for nearly half our lives. They’ve killed countless millions of innocent mortals. They’ve killed hundreds of Asgardians and hurt thousands more. They won’t stop until they’ve been destroyed and that’s what I intend to do one day, brother. Destroy the Jotuns so that they can never hurt anyone ever again.”
Odin was glad to have Frigga there to hold him. He’d managed to mask the shock of seeing his boys grown into manhood for a short time before he’d been forced to excuse himself. His wife, though, knew him better than he knew himself. She followed him and held him as he shook and wept quietly for all the years he had missed.
“I hadn’t realized just how long it had been,” he whispered.
“I know,” she said just as softly. “You’ve only been back a handful of times and each time, they were busy or your visit was cut short by another attack. But, they want to join you.”
“Do you think they’re ready for it? I would spare them the horrors of war — especially this one.”
“They’re as ready as any other soldier, Odin,” Frigga sighed. “And I think it would be good for you and for them. Thor needs to see war first-hand if he’s ever to lead the armies of Asgard into battle and Loki should see it as well. You’re always complaining about the lack of mages in your forces and having Loki with you gives you a powerful magician in your arsenal. Both of them have studied extensively and want to be with you. They’ll serve you well. Besides — you’ve given others the chance to have time with their families. It’s difficult for you to see yours so perhaps we should join you instead of remaining back in Asgard and waiting for you to come to us.”
“I’ll take Loki and Thor into my army,” Odin said, “but you must return to Asgard and rule in my absence.”
“I thought that would be your answer,” Frigga said with a smile.
“Have you seen an end to this war?” Odin asked. “Will we be victorious or is it pointless to continue?”
“The war will end and we will be victorious,” Frigga replied calmly. “But it will be much longer and darker with many more battles to come before victory arrives. And that is all I can tell you, All-Father. Ask me no more.”
“Very well,” Odin sighed. “Let us go back now and tell our sons that they’ll be joining me in battle. It won’t make up for the time I’ve missed but…maybe it will help to know that I won’t be missing any more.”