Chapter 5
FREYR
It went on like that for several days, spending time with Ravnur, which was not very different from how I had spent my days before then, only now, when anyone asked to join their king in bed, I politely declined.
Quite quickly, it seemed, others came to realize why I was denying new bedmates, for the requests soon stopped, and I could feel the eyes of my people watching me and Ravnur whenever we were together.
Mostly curious stares. Maybe some a bit jealous.
I couldn’t blame anyone, since I had been the one to swear off courting.
Yet their scrutiny started to weigh on me.
I had no specific plans to see Ravnur today and had told him I would be off alone for an errand.
I think he must have guessed I wanted to keep anything else about the excursion secret, and he hadn’t pressed.
He was remarkably patient with me. With the sparsely stolen kisses we had shared since the first that neither of us had tried to take further.
Part of my hesitation was so Ravnur would know I truly meant this as a courtship, not carousing, not like with all the others. The other part… was because the weight of what I was risking hung heavy in my chest as if my heart had been replaced with tarnished steel.
Here I was in Jotunheim, at the entrance to the domain of a very specific Jotun, Gymir, and his daughter who was effectively once again a maid. Out of respect, I did not enter the grounds but waited for her to be told of my presence, knowing she would come out to meet me in time.
This "land of giants" was not what some mortals believed. The Jotun were not truly giants. Larger than life in personality, surely, as Loki was a testament to. They had partially garnered their title due to their untamed homeland.
While both Vanaheim and Alfheim were wooded and lush with greenery, and Nidavellir was the dwarven land of mountains, Jotunheim combined it all into a wilder and more treacherous whole.
The Jotun made their homes amidst the chaos in ways the rest of us couldn’t hope to replicate, as if every twisted tree or cavern was mere decoration for their homesteads.
The gateway into Gymir’s domain was built into the largest tree on the land, with a big enough trunk that the carved double doors that opened to welcome guests could have fit five or six people across.
Today it was one lone figure who appeared from out of its archway and descended its hewn stone steps to where I waited at the bottom.
I dismounted from Gullinbursti, magical sword on my hip.
It must have known its former master neared us, for it quivered in its scabbard as Gerdr came to stand before me.
The sword had never disliked Gerdr, but I think perhaps it feared being returned to her care when it had never been the right fit.
The radiant giantess was everything she had always been in my eyes, like some Huldra forest nymph to tempt me.
She gleamed like a beacon, and it was no wonder that her beauty had reached me from an entire realm over once, and I had been transfixed.
To say I had no love for her now would deny all she had meant to me. To say I was in love with her still…
No. Could one ever truly be in love with someone who could never love them in return?
Gerdr’s strawberry hair was in two long braids that hung in front of her shoulders to her waist. Her blue eyes sparkled, matching the pale blue of her dress. The rosy glow in her cheeks and pinkish hue of her lips was all I had ever thought I wanted in a wife—once.
“Hail, Freyr.” Gerdr smiled, cordial but formal in a way, for we were no longer husband and wife, and there must be a distance between us now for both our sakes.
“Hail, Gerdr. Forgive my unannounced visit. I will not keep you long, but might we sit and talk a bit?”
There were boulders aplenty nearby with flat enough surfaces for sitting. She gestured to one just to the side of the stairs and sat, patting the space beside her.
I gingerly joined her.
“You seem troubled,” she said, as gentle-hearted and patient as ever, for she had earned the pedestal I put her on, but out of reach on that pedestal she would forever stay.
“I am. My heart aches anew, and I do not know how to temper it.”
“You owe me no new apologies. We are at peace with one another.”
“That does ease me, but it was not for your sake that I came, but the hope of being with another.”
Gerdr’s eyes widened, and her smile turned teasing. “You are finally letting your heart lead you instead of…” She cleared her throat. “Your sword?”
I snorted. While the sword in its sheath quivered again, I knew that was not the one she meant.
“I am trying, but the closer we become, the more I anticipate disaster. I did not know disaster awaited me with you. I thought you were won, not coerced or bullied. I was so wrong about all of it until it was too late, and all we could have between us was heartache to show for it.”
“Freyr,” she said, and took the hand that rested on my thigh. “That was a lifetime ago. You know what mistakes to avoid. Do you pursue your paramour yourself instead of sending a proxy?”
“Of course.”
“Are you honest with them in everything?”
“More every day. He even comments on it, that he can tell when I drop my mask.”
“And does he love you?”
That stole my breath more than any other of my wayward thoughts. I had occasionally found myself doubting it, succumbing to old fears, much as I had known the answer since the start of this. “He does.”
“Then there is only one question remaining. Do you love him? For if two people love one another, nothing should keep them apart, but if one does and the other does not, the latter must be let go.”
As I had let her go.
Did I want to be let go? Could I love Ravnur? Or would it all unravel again, only this time with my sweet hirdman the one spurned?
I returned my attention to Gerdr, taking in her fair form.
Still, she was patient with me, despite everything.
“I think part of why I needed to see you today was to acknowledge once more what we were, what we weren’t, and the part you played in who I was reborn to become after Ragnarok.
I was not handling things in quite as healthy a manner at first.”
“Yes.” Gerdr huffed. “When it comes to those little—or not so little—elven devices, word does get around.”
“Oh dear! The realms do enjoy their gossip.”
“We do.” She grinned. “And you were entitled to what you sought. We all need indulgences, so long as they are consensually attained. You were never meant for that forever though. You’re a romantic. You seek love, not a life of lustful pursuits without depth.
“And if you dare make some jibe about, ‘oh there is always depth,’ I am going right back up those stairs.”
I chuckled. “Never! Although the thought did cross my mind.”
She chuckled too. She had only ever really been my friend after we parted, and true beloveds should be friends from the start.
“If you finally found love at last,” she said, squeezing my hand with what certainly felt like the strength of giants, “do not deny yourself what you want, especially not because of me.”
Some combination of vise-like grief and a flood of reprieve washed through me.
Tears filled my eyes, and I let them, for the conflicting but fitting emotions I felt required the outlet.
I had not realized how much I had left to weep over, all I had been keeping trapped and tamped down within me, barely chipped away at with dalliance after dalliance, or maybe made worse.
Steadying myself with a cleansing breath, I slipped my hand from Gerdr’s and patted hers before I stood.
“Thank you. I intrude upon you unwelcome yet again, and still you offer so much. But I think I mostly needed to see you once more to better let you go.”
Gerdr stood as well, eyes shining with their own budding moisture. “You are never unwelcome, Freyr. You just weren’t…”
“I know. And you weren’t either. For me, I mean. I know that now. I just need to confirm if I am right about who is.”
Gerdr cupped my cheek, and I couldn’t resist holding her hand there to enjoy its comfort and warmth. “You will know the next time you see him.”
“You are so certain?”
“Yes, because it will feel different from when you thought you found love with me.”
Perhaps I could call it Jotun magic that I believed her so thoroughly.
I took her hand from my cheek, kissed the top of it, and left her with a peace now settled between us that had not quite been there before.
“Bring me to Ravnur,” I bid of Gull, and the beast took off at its usual great speeds as if flying over the land.
We did not head toward Alfheim, but up a different branch of Yggdrasil. Once I realized where we were going, I slowed Gullinbursti and leapt from its back to finish our trek on foot. I knew the domain this branch led to, for it was a beautiful meadow belonging to my kin.
In the distance, while nearing my sister’s homestead and hall at the meadow’s center, I saw Ravnur visiting with the horses in Freya’s stables.
Her domain was beautiful, surrounded by trees with mountains beyond them, and a river running through it, passing just beside the homestead, where wild flowers bloomed all along its banks.
No hunting was allowed here, and so birds sang and wildlife flourished in rare harmony with one another.
Beautiful. But none of it was as breathtaking as the dark-skinned, dark-haired elf I had my eyes on, and who, as I drew closer, seemed to sense my presence and looked outward from the stables to find me.