Her horse walked calmly behind her as she approached the cottage where an old man was dying. Older humans were easier to deal with. They were resigned to their fate and usually welcomed her after the pain they endured as part of dying. Humans would endure just about anything to end pain.
"Hel," a deep voice sounded behind her—a voice she knew so well. The sound lingered along her skin and she stopped. Meeting him here was utterly unexpected.
"Balder," she replied and turned. It was too dark to see him clearly, the moonlight glinting on his hair. From their last discussion, he made it seem as though she was the last person he wished to see.
"My brother," was all he said, silently moving closer. His sword wasn't drawn. "Hoder."
The name escaped her for a moment. Yes, the brother that had killed him. "What about him?"
"Is he still existing?"
Shrugging, she stepped away. "Nidhogg probably ate him."
His hand gripped her arm, a touch familiar but harsher. Fingers dug into her flesh. "I need to know."
"I don't. Take it up with Nidhogg. Somehow I think he will remain silent on the topic. But why don't you go down to his hall and have a look. I am sure Nidhogg would welcome you—with open jaw."
"Not a problem if I slay him."
Turning back, she stared at him. “You will not!"
"Your precious pet. Perhaps we are all better off without him."
Hel's slap across his face reverberated, but it was a good way of showing him exactly how displeased she would be if he so much as tried to hurt Nidhogg. "Nidhogg is necessary. More necessary than you."
"Who is to say? Who says we must keep to the old rules? Nothing."
"You don't understand how many humans are needed to grow a new serpent. Nidhogg is necessary."
Balder stared at her for a moment. "You released the Draugr."
"It was necessary."
"Thousands and thousands died," he said, his disbelief clear in his voice. What did he expect her to do?
"If you have dead, you need a serpent to drain them, to eat them when necessary. They don't fade otherwise and we’d start drowning in the dead lingering forever and ever. It is the cycle of things and there was no point denying it because it is unpleasant. To grow a serpent from an egg requires an enormous amount of nourishment. I had to."
"It just about destroyed the whole human race."
"But it didn't."
His grip tightened on her arm and it hurt.
"You're hurting me." It didn't relent.
"Who placed Vali in Midgard?"
"Not me."
"Then who?" he roared.
With magic, she generated an icy blast that cut into him. "Don't know, don't care." She leaned closer. "No friend of mine."
"You don't have friends. You have hostages."
Anger rose her hand and she slapped him hard across the face yet again. His hand pushed her away, holding her by the neck as her back hit the wall of the nearby building. For a moment he didn't say anything, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. His palm flattened on the middle of her chest holding her still. Sometimes she forgot his strength. This side of him she didn't know well. The potion had always kept him docile, but he was anything but docile now. It sent a thrill up her seeing him like this. This side of him had been missing before.
Perhaps not the loathing in his eyes. It was also new and not exactly welcome. Their relationship was now new and unknown, and it seemed to shift and change every time she saw him. Toward hate and loathing.
The ever-present ache for him was still there. It clenched her insides as the pressure of his warm hand held her. The darkness made his eyes unreadable. Nothing to say, but still here.
With the pressure of his hand still heavy on her chest, she stroked down his arm.
"Don't," he said.
Pausing for a moment, her fingers rested on his arm, that familiar touch between them, his scent enveloping her. How could he not want this when they had been here so often, so consistently? She knew his body as well as she knew her own.
Reaching, her fingers grazed his abdomen, along the firm muscles. His golden skin, hidden by the darkness. The urge to taste had her pressing her lips together. Her fingers traveled lower.
"Don't," he repeated, but he wasn't moving away. If he wanted her to stop, he could back away. He wasn't exactly pushing her away. He wanted her, she realized, but he didn't want the desire he felt. That was his problem. Firmly, she stroked along the bulge of his manhood and he suppressed the groan in his throat.
She dared him to stay and it was now a game of wills—one set up so he would lose. The hardness under her hand told her so. He had already lost and couldn't make himself move away.
His breath was caught in his throat as her hand ran more firmly along his cock. Desire was there, beyond a doubt. He wasn't quite as disgusted and indifferent as he pretended. Hel smiled.
Shifting his hand up to her neck, his thumb pressed her head up so she looked him in the eye. Here they had been before, but it was different now. The need she saw in his eyes was darker and deeper than anything she'd seen before. He didn't want this, but he needed it—because he loved her.
A brutal kiss crashed down on her. Not the sweet kisses she knew, something else. He wasn't giving; he was taking. The taste of him suffused her mind and her eyes closed. A groan escaping her. It felt so good. It felt as if she was home after such a long and cruel absence. Tightness inside her ached for him.
The strength of his body pressed to her, pushing her into the wall behind her. Her arms around his shoulders, she held him, every firm plane along her front as the kiss refused to relent. Urgent as if he stopped, he would have to face what they were doing.
A firm hand stroked up her thigh under the material of her dress. She didn't need the warmth, but she loved the warmth he brought to her, the feel of his hands on her body. He strived to be closer, withdrawing only to free himself.
Pain laced the firm stroke into her, but the pleasure of it drowned it out. She had him. Not just his body, but his mind—even if he fought against her. This was justification. Everything she'd said was true. He was hers, whether he wanted it or not. It wasn't some potion that bound them together. The potion had only made it easier for him.
Firm thrusts drove her higher, his teeth biting down on her bottom lip, almost as if she would escape otherwise. She wasn't escaping, and neither was he. They belonged together and the sooner he accepted that, the happier they would all be.
The winding tension inside her made her clasp him harder around the shoulders. They needed this—needed each other. Each thrust battered the wall behind her, his hands holding her up, holding her to him as he pressed deep inside her. The strokes became less harsh, slow and firm, meeting the strong pulse of her core. Complete unison between them.
The rush came on with a trickle that turned into a torrent, finally a storm that submerged everything in its exquisite bliss. They were so much more than themselves in this moment. The energy of the universe existed in this place. Life and death, and everything in between. How could he possibly think this was meaningless? It was everything. Between them, they shared the secrets of the world.
Breath burned when it returned to her body. Balder was depleted, leaning against her, the weight of his body pressing her into the wall. But there were none of the kissing and musing that normally came afterward. Instead there was awkward silence as he pulled away from her, her skirt falling down around her unsteady legs.
What would he say to her now, she wondered. Would he lie? Say that this meant nothing?
He was still for a while, not looking at her. Hel felt like slapping him for not looking at her after what they had just done.
"I am going to seek my brother," he finally said. His brother? That was all he talked about? Where was her apology for how he’d treated her when she was the one he wanted all along?
"What care I about your stupid brother. His stupidity traded himself the place he i
s in."
"Even you, in your twisted and grisly mind, understand loyalty to family."
"But not the person who you shared your bed with for millennia? That person you simply discard when you choose to—when it's inconvenient for you? Maybe you're no different from the brother who would fire mistletoe arrows at you. Perhaps I should take him as my lover," she snapped. Anger flashed in his eyes, but not enough to do something. As if she wasn't worth the effort. If she'd had a knife in her hand right now, she would cut him.
Chapter 22
THE VILLAGE STARTED TAKING up more and more of Nanna's attention. She loved the familiar things—things she had forgotten all those years in Asgard, and then even more years in Helheim. Her human life was like a distant memory, but now she reveled in the smallest detail of village life. The women showed her how to wash wool and pull it into the soft strands with paddles. Then spin it.
The easy comradery between the women felt calming to her and she was happy to sit in the small cottages, twirling wool into yarn. Mostly they ignored her, but their wariness was abating.
Then there was the blacksmith. Axel his name was. He spoke very little. The son of one of the women in the room and she was very proud of him. Nanna could see why. He was a sight to behold as he worked his hammer. Muscles rippling, that wide stance, and a note of curiosity when he saw her.
Sitting as she was on a bench with her work on her lap, Nanna bit her lip, thinking of him. This rush of curiosity, of newness was thrilling. And still, he had never said one word to her.
When the sun started fading in the sky, she returned to the hall. How she wished she had a family and was living in one of the cottages like the others. Vali and Balder didn't feel like family. They felt like remnants of an old life—a past life.
Lily stood on the doorstep to the hall, her hand absently resting on her belly, like women did when a child was growing inside of them. "Nanna, you return," she said. "I don't know where you go these days."
"I help with the wool harvest," Nanna said.
"Yes, of course. That is very kind of you. I am sure it is much appreciated."
"I am not sure if appreciated is the right word, but they are getting more used to me."
"They treat me different too, even as I have known these people all my life. I suppose they fear what is different."
"I am not different. I was born as human as you were. Now I want to be what I was born to be."
"What of Balder?" Lily asked carefully.
A frown crossed Nanna's brow. She knew he wanted to rekindle, even as she had told him they were not reunited. "Guilt drives him," she said, but it was more than that. In her heart, though, she didn't care, because she didn't want to rekindle with him. It felt both heartless and disloyal to say so, even if she had declared their marriage was no more. But she didn't want to go back—and it felt like going back to being a person she wasn't anymore.
"He does care about you," Lily said.
Of that, Nanna didn't doubt, but it was difficult to tell how much of what he believed he wanted was driven by guilt. To some degree, he was perhaps driven by a dislike for change. And then there was Hel. Hel, Hel, Hel. The woman pushed herself in even as one tried to keep her out. Relentless. But then she was death—couldn't be escaped, couldn't be bargained with and eventually she was there whether you wanted her or not.
"Here he comes," Lily said, and Nanna turned to see him riding toward the hall, his reins loose. Balder was unhappy and he didn't look her in the eye. His shoulders were heavy and so was his heart. Having lived with the man long enough, she knew exactly how to read him. Something had happened—something he wasn't pleased about. Being easy going by nature, it could only involve the two things that were not easy for him—her and Hel. And it wasn't her.
"You were gone for some days," Lily said. "Have you been searching for something?"
"Uhm," he said, not knowing what to say. "Actually, I have been thinking about my brother Hoder."
"I do not know this brother," Lily said. Nanna knew, though. It would explain his heavy heart, she supposed.
"Hoder is the one I slew," Vali said, appearing from inside the darkness of the hall. "Why have you been thinking of him?"
"I think he still dwells," Balder said.
"I doubt it," Vali said, his eyes hard. It seems Vali hadn't quite forgiven Hoder for the role he’d played in Balder's death.
"I don't understand," Lily said. "If he was dead, would you not have seen him?"
"He would be in Nastrond," Nanna added. "Where the evil doers and murderers are taken."
"Where he belongs," Vali added.
"He was deceived," Balder defended.
"No one is that stupid unless they have bad intentions."
The two brothers stared at each other, then Vali walked into the hall.
"I will not forsake my brother," Balder called.
"You cannot go to Nastrond," Nanna said.
Balder finally looked at her. "You care if I live or die now?"
"Balder. Don't be churlish," she chided him.
With a sigh, Balder held whatever he considered to say. "He is my brother, and if he dwells there, I must free him."
"I take it this is not a nice place," Lily said.
"No, it is not. It is the worst place. True death is better," Balder said.
"If he has dwelled there for so long, there might be nothing left of his mind," Nanna said, recalling how lost she had been, but she had revived. But the torture she had endured would have been nothing compared to what Hoder would have. A shudder spilled like ice down her back. "Even if he exists, there could be nothing to save."
"I will not have him suffer for eternity for something I can forgive him for," Balder stated. "Even if Vali cannot."
"He did not know him like you did," Nanna said. Hoder and Balder had loved each other, even if there had been a streak of jealousy in Hoder. Balder was given all the gifts—cherished and strong in every sense, while Hoder had been blind and beholden to the people who had to help him.
"I understand," Lily said. "If my brother suffered, I could not bear it—no matter what he did to me. Especially if he hadn't done it on purpose."
"Hoder would never hurt me."
Nanna wasn't entirely sure that was true. Hoder had likely not intended on murdering Balder, but he had fired the arrow and he had always been resentful at his twin.
"Vali does not know him like I do," Balder said. Another truth was that Balder had never seen the reproachful glances thrown his way by his brother, but reproach was different from murderous intent.
“Even if you manage to get the serpent to release him, I doubt Hel will release another of her charge to you. She would be prepared this time,” Vali said.
“Hoder is not of interest to her.”
“Any way she can spite you, she will,” Nanna said. “Anything she can do to make another suffer, she will.”
“That is unjust,” Balder said.
“Unjust?” Nanna said, astounded. “Hel begrudges any happiness in others. If she can quell it, she will.”
“Hel cares for her own happiness. Others’ is of little concern to her.”
“You defend her now?”
“No, but she is not like you paint her.”
“How would you know? You were bespelled the whole time.”
The muscle in his jaw worked. “Perhaps you have a different perspective,” he conceded. Yes, that was right, while his perspective was of the one coddled by her.
"So you will go," Nanna said. It would be perilous and there would be a good chance Balder would perish. It would mean fighting Nidhogg to get into his hall.
"Yes," he said, but again he was avoiding her eyes.
"You will see Hel, too. You cannot go to Nastrond without passing through Helheim."
The tightness in his jaw returned. Was he so concerned about seeing Hel? It wasn't only anger that flashed in his eyes now, but guilt.
Enough of this guilt, Nanna thought and turned away. Th
e conflicting feelings he had for that woman was something he could keep to himself. Nanna refused to be infected by them. Too much of her well-being had already been stolen by that relationship. The incessant guilt that drove Balder. She wasn't interested. It was his turn to deal with Hel and the things she had done.
Both Lily's and Balder's footsteps approached as Nanna reached the main table. Vali was already sitting. It was the first time the two brothers had been in discord, but perhaps Vali didn't understand the bond between the twins. It ran deep and had more facets than anyone could count.
"You have made up your mind, then," Vali stated. "I will not join you in this."
"I would not expect you to."
"If you die, you will belong to Hel again," Nanna said. Perhaps there was part of him that wanted that—all decisions taken away from him, to be forever in love with that woman through his potion-induced devotion.
"I will not die." A quest this dangerous, it was either foolhardy or deceptive to say so. Nidhogg was a formidable enemy and he didn't like his property being stolen.
Balder sat, returning to being absorbed by his own thoughts. "I will go in the morning, and I want to take Thor's chariot."
Technically, it belonged to Vali now as he had claimed it from the charred battlefields in Asgard, but it would be spiteful and petty for him to say no for such a perilous undertaking. It was perhaps understandable why the chariot was necessary. If Hoder was in worse shape than her, he would not be able to ride.
Rising, Balder left the table and retreated into the darkness toward his bedchamber.
In truth, Nanna didn't know how to feel. Balder was going to face incredible danger, and there was a good chance he would not survive. Even true death was possible. In the morning, she would wave him off, this man that had been her husband for so long. They were in discord at the moment, but she did not wish him any suffering. This finally became clear to her. She did not wish him to suffer; she didn't wish him the guilt he felt about how she had been treated, or how Hoder was suffering. These burdens were heavy on him. Balder was never made to bear heavy burdens. He was the god of gold and light-heartedness. Loved by all.
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