Chapter 14 Gullveig
Gullveig
It feels surreal, now the moment is finally here.
I’ve stood here, docile and patient, silently preparing myself for what’s about to happen as well as I can, but there’s not much more I can do.
Gorm and I were carefully chosen for our aptitude, and then we trained intensely for years—sent here for just this purpose, but now that the vanir have taken us, I can’t help the trembling in my hands.
My feet are grimy, the hem of my roughspun dress, ragged.
Running through the woods does that, I suppose. It was necessary, to be captured and brought here against our will. They’d never have trusted it otherwise. When we heard that Freyr and Freja had both lost their human bonded, we knew the time to be ‘caught’ was right.
“It’s alright,” my twin brother says. “We’re ready.”
Maybe he is.
As the black creature approaches me, its head lowered, its eyes intent, I want to huddle and cry out like a child. The vanir are so different than the aesir we love so much, so much crueler.
Then I feel it—a sensation I’ve felt hundreds of times, or maybe even thousands. A sensation I’ve been prepared to fight against almost my entire life.
The miserable moon vanir’s trying to ensnare me.
I dig down deep, and I refuse.
The black scales of the moon vanir sparkle when he lifts his head and glares at me. The pressure intensifies, the soul-sucking power of his attempt to force a bond battering my internal defenses.
Not today, demon. I fling the words at him like an attack of my own.
Enraged, he sinks his massive taloned feet into the stone floor below us and he roars.
I hold on, barely. More than just my hands are trembling by the time he ceases his assault. Sweat has broken out on my brow. My entire body’s shaking, but I have rebuffed every one of his efforts to ensnare me.
One glance to my side shows me that Gorm’s struggling too, but he hasn’t been bonded by the ice vanir who approached him either. It was painful and exhausting, but the aesir prepared us well.
We’re just two earth children in a long line of the same, prepared to do our part to fight against the miserable bondage of the vanir and their ongoing mistreatment of our people.
Whenever I lose my resolve, I remind myself that this war can’t be won in a day, or in a month, or even in a year, and we all have to do our part, or it will never be won.
But we have to win.
Losing costs us far too much.
The war’s about so much more than us. It’s about our future.
It’s about all the other earth children, Gorm’s children, since I’ll never have any.
My twin had already started his family when we were selected for this task, and he’s here because he loves those children more than anything.
We both want a better world for them. We’re determined to create a world for them where the vanir aren’t lurking around the corner, preparing to ensnare and enslave us, treating us as a disposable good they can use and discard on a whim.
Two more vanir attempt to bond me, one storm, and another moon. Another ice vanir comes to bond Gorm, but none of them manage it. I’m shaking now, even when no vanir are attempting to bond me.
When I finally hear the order from Bjorn, bellowed as if he’s ready to explode, I know we’ve succeeded. Freyr, Freja, report to the bonding grounds immediately.
I can’t help my half-smile, turning slightly toward Gorm. “Yes,” I whisper. I’m not sure I could manage any other words, even if it would be safe to say them.
When we heard they’d lost their humans in the last conflict, even knowing they’d need to rebond soon, there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen before we could stumble onto vanir ground and be rounded up.
We thought we could hold off the other vanir who would attempt to bond us, but we weren’t sure.
There were so many holes in our plan—it was always a long shot.
But the aesir’s number one targets, other than Bjorn himself who almost never enters any altercations, are his twin children, Freyr and Freja.
If the aesir can destroy them, it could shift the entire tide of the war.
No earth child can really make a huge difference, but our deaths at the right time will allow the aesir to attack the twins when weakened, and that just might be enough.
Bjorn sails down from their massive stone tower, his terrifyingly wide wingspan blocking the sunlight entirely as he nears.
I’m already bonded, or I’d take one of these rebellious little snakes myself.
The earth shudders when he lands. I do so enjoy breaking the ones the aesir have built up.
He tilts his head when he looks at us, like he’s examining a fascinating or frustrating puzzle.
Freyr and Freja, the two demon-cursed ice vanir twins approach from different places, but they both land mere seconds after Bjorn. Why couldn’t they be bonded? Freja peers down at me with curiosity. Are you sure they’re really bright? Perhaps some spell made them appear—
Bond them or the other earth children will be inspired by their miserable rebellion. Bjorn tosses his head. Now. Do it.
Why don’t we just kill them? Freyr asks. I’ve had plenty of rebellious earth children, and it’s exhausting. I’d rather just get one who—
Bjorn screams in his son’s face. Do it now.
Freyr sighs and circles around his father, focusing in on me.
I’ve already picked this one, Freja says. Take the male.
Freyr might have complained to his father, but he doesn’t seem inclined to do the same with Freja. He shifts without a single word and leans toward Gorm, clearly intent.
At the same time, Freja lowers her head near mine.
She’s a real sight to behold—her scales much more impressive than the simple white of most ice vanir.
They’re translucent in places and they shimmer, like a rainbow has formed across them and then frozen in place.
Her head’s delicate, but her mouth’s still wide and full of razor-sharp teeth.
The scales across her head are smaller, and her eye ridges are graceful.
There are no horns around her face at all.
Her eyes, when she trains them on me, are the color of an iris in spring.
A bright, vibrant purple.
Alright, little one, let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be.
Unlike before, I make only a token effort to block her.
Gorm’s still putting up a fight—probably for show—but even he finally allows Freyr to bond him.
That was simple, Freja says. What were the others complaining about?
“I chose you,” I whisper. “That’s what made it simple.”
You chose me? Freja laughs then, and it’s a fine sound. Well, that’s a first, isn’t it? I hope we’ll get along well together, then, little one.
Getting along with a vanir would be a first, from what I hear.
The vanir and their earth children never get along.
As the bond settles into place, I feel just what they described to me.
It’s like a net has been thrown over my mind, and I allow it to settle, keeping the one tidy packet of knowledge hidden in a far corner, well behind the net.
I can’t help my smile, as I contemplate the next few months.
The trickiest part of our plan actually worked. Gorm and I are here, bonded to the most powerful of the vanir, and now we just have to bide our time.
Come along, Freja says. We have a lot to do today, so I’ll just get you settled in my cavern. You can clean it while I’m gone.
Clean it? Fabulous. At least cleaning’s honest work.
She crouches down, and I’m not sure why until I realize she thinks I’m going to climb on her back.
At first, I resist. The vanir don’t usually allow their ensnared to ride them.
They’re forced to trot along below, catching up if or when they ever can.
Freja has been known to take her more capable ensnared along in times of war, however.
And that might make my ultimate goal much easier.
Our plan was to somehow coordinate when and how I should kill myself so that I can do it while she’s at war—but if I’m with her, that’s much simpler to time.
She uses the bond to push me into climbing on her back right as I decide to do it.
Almost the second I’ve sat down, reaching my hands to gasp her shoulder joints, she leaps into the air, her wings pumping wildly.
My right hand slips, and I slide down her back, almost plummeting to my death.
Just before I’ve fallen, I manage to catch one of her back ridges, and I hold onto it with all my might.
As she banks and then drops without warning, sailing through the opening of a large cavern, I sense that she’s amused.
Not bad for a newly-ensnared. You’ll improve.
When she lands, I slide off her back and realize she has two dozen other earth children there already, waiting.
I should’ve assumed. It’s what the vanir do.
This is your initial team. You may be assigned others, but for now, gain control over them and set them to work. They can clean your chamber as well, which is near the end, by the entrance. It hasn’t been cleaned in many days, since the death of my last bright, so it might be in bad shape.
I don’t say anything in response. She doesn’t appear to be looking for one.
I’m surprised when she crouches beside me. If one of the gods offered you a gift, would you prefer the strength to endure or the power to dominate your enemies?
“Do you jest?” I look around. “As an earth child, I’m not likely to gain the power to dominate over you, am I?”
No, I suppose not. She laughs. You’re entertaining.
“I’d choose the strength to endure,” I say. “It’s the most realistic gift for me.”
I suppose that’s what I should expect from a slave.
She eyes me for a moment, and then she turns to leave.
Just before she launches from the edge, she turns back.
I’ve lost quite a few ensnared earth children in the past few months.
I’d like to keep up with you longer. It’s quite tiring, always suffering their loss and then training a new one.
What do you say to receiving some education in physical combat to make you less vulnerable?
Combat? Why would she want to train me in combat?
You couldn’t use it on me, of course. She narrows her eyes, and I feel her push the command as she says the words, You will never use a blade or any other weapon against me or harm me in any way. You will not use poison, and you will not conspire with others to poison or cut or harm me in any way.
I bow my head.
No. She snorts. Don’t bow or scrape. I don’t like it.
I meet her eye. “I would be willing to train, if it would please you.”
You know, little one, I think it would.
“Gyda,” I say. “My name’s Gyda.”
I’ll be back soon, Gyda. Be ready to learn.