Loose Ends
Freya returned to Vanaheim two days after leaving the refugees from Alfheim in Hildisvíni's hands at the settlement in Midgard. She had wanted to stay a little longer to help, but she also had responsibilities to her own realm and could not be in two places at once.
Despite her respectable, restrained posture, she was exhausted. Not physically, but mentally. It had been more than a month since Asgard had been destroyed, but the things she needed to do seemed endless — the people she needed to help, the realm she needed to govern, the enemies she needed to defeat.
The Einherjar...
Looking away from the maps of the realms spread across the table, she let out a long sigh and dropped into the chair. The ceiling of the cave where they gathered was nothing special. Neither was the cave itself. To many, it was just some random place in the middle of Vanaheim. But to Freya, it reminded her of one of the last moments she had ever felt happy — the moment she reunited and reconciled with her brother.
I miss you, Freyr. Ah, how welcome your help would be right now... and your playful nature, she thought, remembering the farewell they had thrown for him a few weeks ago.
As she pressed her tired eyes with her fingers, she frowned, sniffling, and stared at her hands. They were so dirty that her tattoos could barely be seen.
She needed a bath. And a good meal. And rest. Yes, gods could go a very long time without eating, drinking, or sleeping. They were immortal, after all. But they still paid a certain price.
"You're strangely quiet today."
She lifted her gaze and looked at the tall blond woman in a blue dress, with braids almost as long as her own body. Sif was standing near the table where plans for all eight remaining realms were being discussed and finalized, sorting through some papers.
She had just returned from an expedition to Svartalfheim with Sigrún, bringing dozens of refugees to Vanaheim, as well as important new information about the Remnants of Asgard. Information that, in fact, made new alarms sound in Freya's already overburdened mind.
With her hands resting on the tabletop, Sif took her eyes off the papers before her and looked at Freya with a neutral expression. "You know you don't need to carry so much weight alone, Freya."
"I have to," she answered without hesitation.
"No, you don't. Why do you think I left Midgard and came to Vanaheim with you?"
To stick a knife in my back? Freya thought, but immediately regretted the thought. It was not fair. Although she still did not trust Sif completely, the woman had, in fact, helped her greatly by managing Vanaheim's affairs and the refugees housed there during her short absences.
Besides, Atreus had given Sif his vote of confidence before leaving. And if there was one person's judgment Freya trusted, aside from Hildi, it was his.
"Thank you, Sif. Truly." She took a deep breath, then stood and massaged her wrists. "All right, let's start the reports."
Sif raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to wait for your sisters?"
Freya shook her head. "They won't be joining us today. Since Sigrún was with you in Svartalfheim, I gave her a summary of the regions of Alfheim I explored last time and asked her to pass the information on to the other Maidens. Hopefully, they'll be able to reduce the search area for Gná even further."
"And the other two?"
Freya ran her fingers over the desert plains represented on the map of Alfheim on the table. After her last expedition, most of the deserts in the realm of the elves were already covered in red markings.
She narrowed her eyes slightly. "They won't be joining us either. I asked them to investigate some parts of Helheim we haven't explored yet."
Sif crossed her arms. "Helheim? Why? No survivor of Ragnarök could have endured there for this long, and no enemy could cause any significant trouble there." She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Don't tell me you're still looking for that boy."
Freya looked at her across the table for a moment. "That's one of my reasons, yes. Is there a problem?"
Sif exhaled. "Look, I understand you feel some sense of responsibility toward his mother because of what happened with Baldur. I do too, in a way. But face reality, Freya. That boy, even if he somehow survived the Fall, is dead. No Midgardian peasant would have lasted this long alone in any of the realms ravaged by Fimbulwinter, much less in Helheim."
Freya remained silent for a moment, shuffling the papers. "He's not a simple peasant. You heard what Hildi told us. What Frida revealed to us. She herself stated that she spent a night with an Aesir god in the past, though she didn't say which one..."
"I heard. And perhaps she really did have relations with one of my neighbors. But if her son were one of us, I would know."
Freya frowned at Sif. "Do you really think that mother is lying? Do you think her illness is an act?"
"I didn't say she's lying. I said she's wrong. Freya, I was Odin's diplomat. If there was anyone in Asgard, besides him, who could know of the existence of an Aesir god lost across the realms, that person would be me. And trust me, Odin did not leave loose ends. He kept a written file in his library on every Aesir god and on every person even minimally connected to them, including through unofficial relationships. A Vanir woman one of them met in a tavern; an affair another had with a dwarven peasant woman from Niðavellir; a brothel visited centuries ago in Midgard.
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"His spies saw everything and reported everything, no matter how frivolous the situation seemed. If a young Aesir god had been living in Midgard for so long, he would know. And so would I."
"Then maybe Frida was mistaken," Freya retorted. "Maybe the boy is the son of a Vanir god."
"Are you listening to yourself, Freya? Do you really think she confused an Aesir god with a Vanir?"
Freya exhaled. "I know it's unlikely, Sif. But whether Frida was mistaken or not, you can't deny what Hildi said about the boy. No mortal could lift half a house by himself."
"There are several ways for a mortal to acquire strength—"
"Ways that a Midgardian peasant who spent his entire life tending goats would not have access to."
The two stared at each other for a while. It was the third time they had argued about Frida's son, and not without good reason. Freya knew that a new god, as long as he was friendly, would be of great help to the realms. Especially now, with so many people in need under her and her allies' responsibility... and with the suspicious actions their enemies were taking.
"Forget it." She exhaled and waved one hand. "Let's focus on what's most important."
Sif looked at her for another moment, then turned her gaze to the table and nodded. "Agreed."
"Look," Freya continued, gathering the maps of Alfheim, Helheim, and Svartalfheim, "I didn't ask Kratos and Mimir to go to Helheim only to search for the boy. I also asked them to investigate the empty Einherjar camps we found there."
She moved to stand beside the Aesir goddess and began organizing the papers on the table. Then she pointed to certain regions in each of the realms that she had marked with a black circle with an "x" in the center.
"These are the camps we found and eliminated. And these..." She pointed to the black circles without an "x." "Are the empty camps we found. As you can see, the more we explore the realms, the more we come across empty Einherjar settlements."
Sif brought her fingers to her chin, analyzing the papers. "I thought you were being paranoid at first, but I think you're right."
Freya nodded. "They're abandoning their things. They're moving..." She narrowed her eyes, a dark premonition plaguing her tired heart. "Someone is gathering the Remnants of Asgard."
Sif nodded, impassive. To Freya, it was incredible how well she could maintain her composure. Freya certainly was not as controlled as Odin's former diplomat.
"Gná?" Sif asked.
"Could be. She would certainly have the motive and influence to gather the warriors of Valhalla. But she's not alone; Gná could not have gathered so many in so little time if she were."
"Some of Odin's Valkyries still haven't been found — Brynhildr, Geiravör, Geirölul, Rist... Perhaps they're helping their queen."
"Perhaps. Whatever the case, we need to investigate and do something about it soon. It would not be good to have a war while we're so busy rebuilding the realms."
"Indeed."
Freya shifted her gaze from the maps she had separated and looked at the ones of Niflheim and Muspelheim in the distance — the two realms they had explored least since the end of Ragnarök. Perhaps it would be a good idea to direct her companions' efforts toward even more inhospitable places...
"It's strange..."
Freya turned to Sif, who was analyzing the documents she had brought. "What is?"
"The organization... The clear purpose... Waiting a month while gathering enough soldiers to raze village after village without making a move... that's not like the Valkyries still loyal to Odin. Though they're smart, most of them are also fanatical, especially Gná. If the queen were behind this, she would have made some move by now."
Sif was right. Freya had already noticed that, despite the Einherjar clearly gathering, they remained strangely inert, something the Shield-Maidens would not normally tolerate for so long. At the very least, they would already have organized an attack to undermine the already weakened and tired forces of Freya and her allies.
But there was no other option that could lead Asgard's resistance besides Gná and her sisters. At least, none Freya knew of...
She frowned. "Besides the Aesir gods we've already dealt with, is there anyone else who might still be alive?"
With a thoughtful look over the maps, Sif remained silent for longer than Freya considered acceptable. A moment or two later, she answered:
"I don't think so."
The wrinkles in Freya's frown deepened. "What do you mean, you don't think so?"
"I'm certain we've already confirmed the deaths of most of them, as I wrote in one of the first reports I made with Mimir and gave to you."
"Summarize it for me," Freya asked, her tone stern.
Sif sighed. "Odin killed his own brothers, Vili and Vé, millennia ago, after their failed attempt to usurp his throne as ruler of the Nine Realms. Váli and Höðr, two of Odin's first sons, also died, but fighting Sinmara and Surtr when the two sought their vengeance. Vidar, the eldest of the three, was the only survivor of the confrontation, but died soon after from the wounds he suffered.
"Bragi was also killed by the All-Father because of the tortures Odin inflicted to force Idunn, his wife, to reveal the secrets of the fruits from the tree she cultivated. Idunn died shortly afterward, unable to bear the death of her husband. The rest died during Ragnarök, or are incapacitated, or joined us. If you want to know the names of the others and what happened to them, you can simply read the report."
"And still, you're not certain..."
"I was..." Sif crossed her arms again and gestured toward the map with her head. "Until these events."
"Who are we talking about here?"
"...Vidar."
Freya raised her eyebrows. "You just said he died because of the wounds he suffered during his fight against Surtr and Sinmara."
Sif nodded. "I did. But I always thought Odin's report was somewhat... vague when it came to the descriptions of his death." She exhaled. "Forget it. I'm exaggerating. After so much time walking with you and with the man who killed one of my sons, I think it's only natural that I've become a little paranoid."
Freya sketched a restrained smile. "Maybe. Either way, I think it's worth paying attention to. If there is even the slightest suspicion that an Aesir god might have escaped our scrutiny, we should keep an eye on it."
"Unlikely," the Aesir goddess replied. "Odin would have no reason to—" She suddenly fell silent and furrowed her brow.
Freya raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I was about to say Odin would have no reason to hide him. But what would be more interesting to the All-Father than having one of his best warriors walking around while everyone thought he was dead?"
The Vanir goddess grew concerned. "If he was one of Odin's best warriors, how did I never hear of him before you?"
Sif stared at Freya for a moment, as if she had already given the answer to that question. And, in truth, she had. If her cruel ex-husband truly wanted to hide the existence of one of his deadliest sons, then she, the ruler of a people who had spent so long fighting his own, certainly would not have that knowledge. And neither Sif nor any other member of Odin's family would have said anything about a son who was supposedly dead for thousands of years.
"How dangerous was he, Sif?" she asked, worried.
Still with her arms crossed and a neutral expression, Sif answered, "Vidar was called the god of vengeance. What do you think?"
Great... she thought, another dark premonition sending a chill down her spine.
Freya straightened and clenched her fists. "I truly hope this is just your newfound paranoia talking."
Sif nodded.
"So do I."