by S. E. Babin
Hel took the drink in her elegant fingers and sipped while she studied her father. Loki squirmed under her perusal. A shark’s smile graced her lips. “You’ve been avoiding me, Daddy.”
My shoulders tensed at her casual use of the endearment. She no more thought of Loki as her daddy then I thought of Odin as my husband. Hel knew exactly what to say to get underneath his skin and she was using it to her advantage.
“I’m not,” Loki said, but his fingers tapped once, twice, three times on the solid surface of the bar, belying his nerves.
Hel noticed it, too. “Perhaps we should do something together then. Maybe a tour of the town?” Her dark gaze flicked to me. “Or a tour of the brewing area?” She offered a quick smile, chagrined and totally insincere. “I’ve heard of Freya’s legendary brewing abilities. I’d like to see how she does it.”
Few people knew I could brew and fewer still would have betrayed my secrets considering I’d done this under the shroud of secrecy. The door to the basement was hidden from the customer’s eyes, a small magic that kept some of my smaller secrets safe. Or was supposed to, anyway. A small, tight smile hit my mouth. “I’d be delighted to show you,” I said, relieved to hear my voice sound normal.
A huff of breath escaped Loki. “Maybe another time,” he said. He stood and held his arm out to Hel. “I think a walk with you would be wonderful.” He even managed to sound sincere. Bully for him.
Hel set her glass down and stood, curling her pale fingers around the fabric of Loki’s shirt. I wonder if those fingers felt like a vise to him or if there was anything within him that still cared for the little girl she’d once been. They walked out together, both dark-haired and lean, but one with a casual, elegance and the other with the grace of a feline. They were a fine pair together, and I wondered briefly what her mother looked like.
That way lies madness, I thought.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the shadows lingering behind dissipated and slipped out of the cracks of the building to follow their master.
“Thor’s beard,” I gasped. I hadn’t realized how suffocating they were.
I had to get Hel out of here.
The sooner the better.
Two
I spent the rest of the morning prepping the bar for the influx of customers I knew would be waiting by the time the doors opened. Gravelbeard, grumpy though he might be, had managed somewhat of a cult following since I’d hired him on as chef. His creations were unique, but more importantly, they were delicious. That, I knew, was what kept people coming back. Don’t get me wrong, they came here for the beer and spirits too, but it was hard to resist a cantankerous dwarf who made delicious food in between his frequent outbursts of salty profanity.
“Freya, for fuck’s sake, did you order more salt?!”
I cringed as Gravelbeard’s voice floated out from behind the kitchen doors. At least we didn’t have customers right now. Rolling my eyes, I finished drying off the last glass and set it carefully down on the tray. “It’s in the pantry next to the cinnamon,” I called back. “Open your eyes, you blind bat!”
A hoarse chuckle floated back to me.
I shook my head. With a satisfied look around the bar, I slid my apron off and hung it on the rack behind the register. I wiped my hands on the new pair of jeans I ordered from some online store Loki showed me and stepped out from behind the bar.
Jeans were a new thing for me. I’d known what they were for a while, but I’d never owned a pair. Now that I did, I wasn’t sure I’d ever go back to wearing my loose skirts and tunics. They were comfortable. I could wear whatever shoes I wanted with them, and I could dress them up and down depending on my mood. Plus, I occasionally caught Loki staring at my rear-end with a slightly glazed expression in his eyes. Apparently, he liked a woman in light wash denim.
The sound of the door opening made me turn. Loki stood there, his face pale. Those emerald green eyes looked slightly haunted. I frowned and opened my mouth to speak, but Loki’s head jerked down.
Not now, he didn’t have to say.
He stepped inside and held the door open for Hel who breezed in like her father didn’t just look like he’d seen a zombie or something.
“Freya!” she called. “What’s on the menu tonight?”
I shrugged and did my best to keep my voice friendly and even. “Only Gravelbeard knows,” I said honestly.
She chuckled and headed upstairs. “I’m going to run up and shower. Tonight is going to be one for the record books!”
I frowned as I watched her slim back race up the stairs.
“Loki?” I questioned.
He blinked. “Uh.” Loki shook his head as if to clear it of cobwebs. “I don’t know what she means by that if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked quietly.
In answer, Loki pointed to the basement door and then held his index finger up to his lips. I nodded, checked the time to make sure I had some to spare before we opened, and opened the door for him to lead the way. As soon as he was inside, I lifted my hand, said a few words to re-conceal the door and followed him in.
I inhaled to fire off a thousand questions, but Loki put a warning hand on my arm. “Wait,” he urged.
Shutting down my curiosity, I followed Loki into the darkness.
When we reached the room where I brewed mead, Loki pulled me inside, his hand warm upon mine, shut the door, and whispered a few words that sent a tingle down my spine.
My magic liked his. I’ve refrained from telling him this. He already had a pretty healthy ego.
“What the heck is going on?” I blurted.
“You need to get Hel out of here as soon as you can,” he said.
“As much as I would love to do that, we’re considered neutral territory, Loki. I can’t just kick her out.”
“Break the rules, then.”
The light was dim, but Loki’s eyes appeared to glow. Bright emerald even on a cloudy day, right now they seemed avid, almost zealous.
I crossed my arms against my chest and leaned back against one of the vats. “No. If she’s gone against us or in some way has seeded dissension, then absolutely. If it’s just her presence you object to, then I’m sorry. We both know I can’t. If I started kicking people out of here just because they made me uncomfortable or said something weird, we’d be down to a population of 10 in a week.”
He sent both of his hands through his hair, making it stand up like he’d been on an all-night bender. “Freya,” he pleaded.
My voice softened. “I can’t, Loki. I don’t like her. She creeps me out. But I can’t send her away. She hasn’t done anything.”
“But she will.” His face was stricken.
“I’m sure she will,” I said, I reached over and touched his arm. “But until we have evidence of it, I can’t risk it. I won’t be like Odin or Thor or any of those other guys. I created this town for everyone. For those who didn’t want to be subjected to the arbitrary rules that changed upon their whims.”
“This could be our downfall, Freya.”
My hand dropped from his arm. “What are you saying?”
He shook his head. “It’s just a feeling I have.”
“As much as I respect intuition, this time it’s not enough. I feel the same way. But we have no proof.” I studied him, the way his eyes looked haunted and the unhappy twist of his lips. “What happened on your walk?”
He seemed fine before then.
“Nothing.” He turned away from me. His posture was tense and his fists clenched at his side.
“Loki?”
“Freya,” he breathed. “Can we not talk about it right now?”
I blinked. Loki was overly communicative even on his worst days. For him to not want to talk about it was even more consuming than the death goddess we had upstairs probably plotting our demise.
“Fine,” I said after a moment.
“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”
A sigh escape
d me. “We can’t change the rules every time we don’t like a player,” I said.
I left him standing there among my handmade brews. His face was partially cast in shadow making him look like a pensive statue.
Heading back upstairs, I closed the door behind me, shivering with foreboding.
Three
The Morrigan was lounging in my bed in a black lace nightie and a come-hither smile. She’d popped up so much over the last few weeks that I wasn’t even startled. I didn’t often sleep here, but when I did, I chose this room.
“Hey,” I said and plopped down beside her on the bed.
Her lips puckered into a pout. “You’re no fun anymore. Loki would have crapped his pants if I’d done that to him.”
“Try living with Odin for thousands of years and see how you react. Shock value doesn’t work all that well on me.” I turned on my side and studied the raven-haired goddess.
A delicate shudder racked her slender frame. “No thanks.”
“So what’s going on?” I asked her. “What fresh hell are you about to lay on my doorstep this time?”
Morrigan had the nerve to chuckle. With a wave of her hand, her outfit changed into what she favored - a pair of black leather pants and a tank top. Feathers were woven into her dark hair, but she wasn’t wearing as many as usual. Her lips weren’t the color of blood today, either.
“Everything okay?” I gently prodded her. We weren’t friends. Not exactly. Tentative allies, maybe?
Her eyes shuttered and she laid back on my pillow, her hair spreading out like ink. “Hel is here, isn’t she?”
“Yup,” I said and flopped into a reclined position. I stared up at the wooden ceiling. “Loki isn’t super stoked about it either.”
“You know you have to get rid of her, don’t you?” Her voice sounded more serious than I’d ever heard.
“So I keep hearing,” I said lightly. “And yet no one has given me one solid reason for doing so.”
“She’s dangerous.” The Morrigan lay like a corpse, her face tilted to watch the ceiling fan as it made lazy circles.
“I’m laying in bed with the most terrifying creature to walk the world,” I said and chuckled. “And I’m no slouch, either.”
“The problem is, Freya, you and I care. No matter how much we don’t want to. Hel … she does not. She wants power and doesn’t care how she gets it.”
“There isn’t any power here,” I said with utter conviction. “Taking this from me would end up being a huge headache for her.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” The Morrigan gave a little sigh. “There’s power in being the first to do something. You thwarted the All-Father at great cost to yourself and Asgard. Power abhors a vacuum and you managed to create a monster one when you gave him over to the Norns.”
I cleared my throat delicately. “Um. We gave him to the Norns. In fact, it was mostly you, but I had a hand in it.”
Her lips widened into a fierce smile. “And it was glorious, was it not?”
A snort escaped me. “It was,” I agreed. “Though it doesn’t have anything to do with Hel.”
“Hel will ruin you, Freya.” Her voice was deep and earnest. “That’s what she does. She ruins things. I’ve heard things. Rumblings around. Whatever she’s planning will be big. When she comes up from the Underworld, the gods have reason to be wary. She will not stop until she reaches her goal.”
“And what is her goal?” I asked Morrigan. I turned over to face her and watched as her eyes tightened at the edges.
“No one knows, Goddess of War. And that should be something that makes us all afraid.”
A chill ran down my spine. “If I broke the rules and kicked her out, I would break the spirit of this town.”
“If you don’t break your rules, you may not have a town,” she said. Her fingers stroked the material of my quilt. “What is this made of? I like it.”
I hid my smile. “I believe it’s called cotton. Would you like one?”
Her crystal blue gaze met mine. Something like fear skittered through her eyes. “I - I would,” she said, making it seem like a question. “But I do not wish to bargain for it.”
“I am not asking you to bargain,” I said. “I would offer it as a gift.”
Her eyes narrowed. “For a boon later?”
“No, Morrigan.”
Her lips turned down. “For blackmail?”
I stifled a sigh. “Morrigan. No. Have you never had a gift freely given?”
Suspicious moisture shimmered in her eyes before she blinked and all of sudden, the softer Morrigan was replaced with the woman who’d first visited me and scared the hell out of me. “Forget I said anything,” she snapped. “I hate it. The material feels like lying on sand.” Her lips curled. “You should really try harder if this is what you’re guests are sleeping on.” Without meeting my gaze, she disappeared without another word.
I shook my head as sadness filled me. Asgardians were not kind, and we were certainly not always kind to each other. I always hated that about us. I wasn’t always the best at friendship when I was married to Odin. Certain things I could not do for fear of being accused of favoritism. Not that Odin cared, but I did. I’d made few friends during my marriage, but seeing the way Morrigan reacted over such a simple question made me wonder: was it insane to strike up a friendship with the goddess who terrified most Asgardians and with good reason?
We’d worked relatively well together when we had to. She had a tinge of a psychopath personality, but we all had it in our own way. Loki was ever impressed that I’d been able to contact her and had been wanting to officially meet her for a while now.
A smile lit my lips as I came to my decision.
Morrigan was going to be my friend whether she liked it or not.
Loki was waiting for me when I came back downstairs. The worry he wore on his face earlier had been hidden under a careful veneer. This was the Trickster and I had reason to be concerned.
I tilted my head. “Loki,” I acknowledged.
His emerald eyes lit. “Wife,” he drawled.
A sigh escaped me, unbidden, even as a thrill raced through me at the word. I was so resistant at first to jumping from one marriage to another, no matter how unintended it was. I still wasn’t super crazy about it. But Loki wasn’t Odin. Loki was … special. He was kind. And even though the walls guarding my heart were high, Loki was beginning to scale them.
“We’re opening in just a little while. Can you help me check the taps?” I didn’t look at him as I walked around behind the bar.
“Sure, my little sweet potato,” Loki said. I could feel his eyes on me, but I worked like I didn’t know it. He was a distraction I couldn’t afford right now. If Hel was going to be making my life difficult soon, I wanted to have a clear head and an open heart. This was my town and I was going to make sure it was safe.
I couldn’t let Loki’s intense gaze and flirty ways worm under my skin. There was a job to do and I was the only one fully qualified to do it.
“I SWEAR TO THE GODS, FREYA! THIS GLUTEN-FREE NONSENSE CHAPS MY ASS!” Gravelbeard screamed from the back.
A bark of laughter escaped Loki. I shook my head and continued checking the taps. Loki worked quiet beside me and we finished quickly with Gravelbeard still grumbling to himself in the kitchen.
Hel was nowhere to be seen, fortunately, so I poured myself a small glass of mead and collapsed onto one of the stools. People didn’t realize how tiring it was to have a bar. You were on your feet the entire time it was open, but you were also on your feet during the time it took to prep everything.
Loki grabbed a beer and sat down beside me. “You should be proud of this, Freya.”
I looked around at all the gleaming wood and rustic fixtures and allowed a smile to touch my lips. “I am,” I said. “I’m proud of all of us. This wasn’t just me.”
“Aye, but you were the only one brave enough to attempt it,” he said. Loki raised the glass to his lips and I watched as his th
roat worked when he swallowed. I looked away before I made a fool out of myself. I wouldn’t welcome an advance from him until I knew my heart was in the right place. Right now, it felt like it had been squashed and then ran over by a steam roller.
"I just hope we get to keep it." Odin might be with the Norns right now, but I knew my ex-husband. If there was anyone who could bargain his way out of something, it would be him. We weren't done with each other. I could feel it in my bones. No one slighted him and got away with it. I'd done a lot more than slight him. I'd left him, stole his spear, embarrassed him in front of his people, took some of those people with me, and then sold him out to three enormous powerful women with grudges the size of Asgard.
I grimaced as I thought about it. Yeah, Odin would not be happy with me if he ever managed to get away from them.
Concern lit Loki's face. "What do you mean?"
I shrugged one shoulder, casually letting it fall. "The gods do not like it when others have something newer and shinier than they do. They covet what their neighbor has."
Loki adjusted his position on the barstool and leaned forward. "You aren't wrong."
A snort escaped me.
"But you're powerful enough to hold on to it. And if you aren't powerful enough, together we are more than a match for anyone who seeks to challenge us. Odin included." Loki reached over and put his hand over mine. My fingers curled instinctively, seeking comfort in his touch. I didn't like how my body responded to him. Nor did I like how my heart warmed when he was around. Well ... I did like it. I just didn't like that I liked it.
I still believed in happily ever after. When I was young, I dreamed of marrying someone powerful but kind, someone who embodied the traits of a true king. And then I wound up with Odin - someone who never finished chewing his food before he spoke, treated women like playthings, and ruled with an iron fist. I'd put up with it for way too long, but even through all of his abuse, I still believed in those happily ever afters - for everyone but me.
