The Midgard Woman

To begin at the beginning...

The Nine Realms were divided into just that, Nine Realms, each home to all manner of beings. Asgard was the home of the Aesir, the God-like beings who possessed a powerful magic that ruled over the other realms and eventually bled into them, leading their people to develop magic skills of their own. But none more powerful than that in Asgard.

Jotunheim, on the other hand, was the home of the Jotunn, or to use the more common name, the Frost Giants. Contrary to popular opinion, however, the Frost Giants were not the savage, primitive beings that everyone else believed them to be. Giant they may be, yes, well, all but those who were born “runts,” who were small by Jotunn standards but to everyone else the size of an ordinary man or woman (and it was quite rare for a Frost Giant to birth a “runt” anyway) but they were by no means vicious monsters. They were simply beings who preferred to be left alone to their own devices, like tigers. They did not wish for war with the rest of the Nine Realms for the simple reason that they did not truly wish to be much involved with those realms at all, when all was said and done. They lived simply and only ever became involved with those from realms such as Asgard for political matters, which were always peaceful.

Until that one small misunderstanding that sent everything into turmoil.

The incident in question involved yet another of the Nine Realms, Midgard, which was also called Earth by those who lived upon it. Unlike the other realms, Midgard was the only one which had not developed magic of its own, and for that reason it was under constant Asgard protection, and Heimdall, the Gatekeeper, who saw everything that happened over the whole stretch of the Nine Realms, always kept a special eye on it, and anything he didn’t think was of great concern to the Asgardians, he kept to himself.

Which is one of the reasons the misunderstanding happened.

One of the reasons, mind, there were others too. But Heimdall cannot be blamed for everything that happens in this story.

Anyway, the Midgardians didn’t have much to do with the rest of the Nine Realms, for the simple reason that only a small, select few knew of their existence. Those were the humans that Asgardians or Jotunns or anyone else from one of the other realms chose to show themselves too and trusted enough not to spread word of their existence around in a world that hadn’t even developed magic yet. After all, as Heimdall once predicted, such a thing could upset the delicate balance of the Nine Realms and cause great disruption for all of them.

So for the time being, Midgard was set a little apart from the rest of the Nine Realms. After all, it was rare for anyone else to have dealings with Midgardian people and vice versa, and Asgardians like Prince Thor and his friends grew up understanding that no Midgardian had ever travelled into one of the other realms via the Bifrost Bridge, or at least, not willingly. After all, the Bifrost was free to anyone who wanted to use it, as long as they politely asked Heimdall to open it for them, and in all the stories they had heard about Dark Elves and Frost Giants whilst growing up, they were sure that some Midgardian prisoners must exist within the other realms, snatched from their homeworld to become slaves or whores to evil Elves and Giants alike and with no chance of being set free to return to Midgard again.

Perhaps it’s understandable that they got confused.

Then again, perhaps not.

At any rate, Thor grew up with a certainty that Frost Giants couldn’t be trusted. Not that he had met many in his time, but the fact they always wished to be left in peace, which was something that a Prince like Thor couldn’t even begin to understand, instinctively told him that they had something to hide. As time wore on, and he finally reached adulthood, Thor was sure that he knew everything there was to know about Frost Giants, as young people who haven’t seen much of the world yet often believe, that they know everything and that nothing is left to shock them.

But, of course, Thor was wrong.

So the story moves on, finally landing at what most would call the “True Beginning,” and they’re probably right, but after all, even the beginning of a story has its own backstory. At any rate, the “True Beginning” as fans coin it, begins in Asgard, with Thor readying himself to accompany his Father, Odin, also known as the Allfather, on a political excursion to Jotunheim, something he had been looking forward too for most of his childhood.

Thor grinned as his trusted servant Jarl finished tying the last fastening of his armour. He had been talking about this with his friends, Sif, Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg, for weeks and now the moment was finally here, he couldn’t help feeling more than a little excited. His friends were also coming with him, but only because they were also trusted soldiers in his Father’s army. Along with them, Odin was also bringing two of his most trusted guards, and that was it. He knew, after all, that bringing an entire army marching into Jotunheim was not the way to maintain their peaceful relationship with the Frost Giants.

“Excited, Your Highness?” Jarl asked, automatically straightening Thor’s tunic for him beneath his armour.

“Excitement doesn’t cover it, Jarl,” Thor replied, picking up his hammer and helmet from the chair by the door. “I’ve been looking forward to this my whole life.”

“Oh,” Jarl replied. “I didn’t know you were so keen to see Jotunheim.”

“It’s not the thought of Jotunheim,” Thor replied, “it’s the thought of finally being able to see what goes on in this political meetings Father’s always having to get involved in. It’s like I’m finally becoming a man today.”

Jarl nodded. “Will there be anything else, Your Highness?”

Thor grinned. “No, Jarl. You may go.”

He pulled open the door and stepped out into the hallway beyond, his cloak billowing behind him like a river as he strode along the corridor and made his way into the throne room. His mother, Frigga, the Queen of Asgard, was waiting patiently to bid him and his Father goodbye and good luck on their journey.

“Thor,” she smiled, wrapping him in a tender embrace. “Now, you remember what I told you?”

“Always listen to Father,” Thor replied, grinning as he hugged her back.

“And always respect the Jotunheim customs, no matter how strange they may appear to you,” Frigga replied, releasing him and fixing him with a serious look.

“Right,” Thor agreed, although she could see that he didn’t think such a thing was a big deal.

“Thor, I’m serious,” Frigga insisted. “If the Jotunns expect you to do as they do, then you do it, you hear me? If they eat with their hands instead of utensils, then you eat with your hands instead of utensils. And never question any of their customs or traditions, or you might offend them.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Thor asked, with a teasing smile.

“Thor,” sighed Frigga. “The Jotunns might not be our best friends in the Nine Realms, but they are our allies, and they need to know that they can respect and trust us, so we must show that we can respect and trust them. It goes both ways. I mean, how would you feel if we invite them here and they came and sat on the floors instead of the chairs we offered them and chose to eat raw meat and drink blood instead of eat or drink anything we prepared for them?”

Thor stiffened. “I’d feel very insulted.”

“There you are, then,” Frigga replied, soothingly. “You might not mean to insult the Jotunn by not choosing to follow their customs, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t be offended anyway. Think before you act.”

Thor smiled, knowing that she was right. “Do you fuss over Father like this?”

“Yes, she does.”

They both turned to smile at Odin as he strode into the room, Gungnir clasped in one hand. “She fusses over me all the time, Thor, much more than she’s ever fussed over you, I’m sure.”

Frigga rolled her eyes. “You are only still alive today to complain because I fuss over you, husband.”

“Yes, dear,” Odin joked, kissing her cheek. “Come, Thor, or we’ll be late.”

“Look after him!” Frigga called as they left the room.

“I will!” Odin replied.

“I was talking to Thor!”

Thor laughed. “I will, Mother!”

They made their way towards the courtyard, where the guards, Sif and the Warriors Three were lined up, awaiting orders. Sif and the Warriors Three grinned at Thor as he approached and he returned it.

“Right, everyone,” Odin announced, standing before them. “Our visit will be a short one, however we will probably be invited to stay the night, as it is not within the customs of the Jotunn to turn out guests overnight. Our reasons for going are purely political, so no hijinks or anything else that might offend our hosts. One final thing, it will be, as I’m sure you all know, extremely cold on Jotunheim, so if any of you are not properly dressed, then now is the time to speak up.” No one spoke and Odin nodded, gently. “Good. Now, let us make our way to the Bifrost Bridge.”

Everyone nodded and then followed him on horseback to where Heimdall was waiting to admit them. Once there, they all dismounted, knowing that they would not need horses on Jotunheim, because they would be going straight to the ice palace of King Laufey the second they arrived.

“Gentlemen,” Heimdall greeted them, respectfully nodding, “and Lady Sif.”

Sif smiled, politely, whilst the others nodded.

“Good luck,” Heimdall said, opening the Bifrost for them, and in a showering of rainbow light, they were swallowed up and transported to Jotunheim.

Unlike Asgard, where the sun was still shining and which always seemed to glitter gold, Jotunheim had a darkness about it that could only be connected with eternal winter. The whole realm was coloured blue, white and black and even in the daylight, there was a dullness about the sky, brought on by lack of heat in the atmosphere. Even bundled up warmly in their layers of clothing, the Aesir visitors each felt a shiver run down their spine as they glanced around the place.

“Odin.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Thor and his friends jumped visibly, having not noticed the Jotunheim party awaiting to meet them. Laufey stood at the head of the party, his blue skin bumped like barnacles with muscle and adored with pale swirl patterns and his red eyes glinting like rubies in the dim lighting, even though his facial expression and tone were both cordial. He stood with four other Frost Giants behind him, obviously soldiers or guards, and they all maintained a friendly enough air as they nodded at the Aesir party. What surprised Thor, however, was their clothing. He had always been led to believe that Frost Giants dressed only in ragged loincloths and nothing else, after all, why would they need to cover up against the cold? But instead, he observe that they all wore black hose made of some thick, coarse material tucked into black boots that were fringed to look like snowflakes at the tops where they met the knee, and loose tunics, with open collars and without sleeves, which looked to have been made from brown sacking and tied with rope belts, from which a variety of ice weapons hung. Laufey, however, wore a long open waistcoat over his tunic, made from a darker brown material and lined with fur. The gold and dark blue stitching up and down the front and back of it looked regal, indicating his status above the other Jotunns.

Odin nodded, respectfully, and made the Ancient Sign of Greeting which Laufey returned. “Laufey. It has been a long time.”

“Indeed it has,” Laufey rumbled, although his voice was neither frightening nor sinister, it was startlingly gentle, or at least on the verge of being so. “The last time we met, both your son and mine were barely into their childhood. Now my son had grown, and I see that yours has too.”

Odin indicated for his son to step forwards and Thor, realising what he had to do and remembering what his Mother had taught him, also made the Ancient Sign of Greeting. “I am honoured to meet you, Sire. Thank you for allowing me to observe your meeting.”

Laufey nodded his head, softly. “My son will also be present, young Thor, although I sense he is less enthusiastic about it than you are. He would rather be with his books.” Odin chuckled. Laufey smiled and then turned towards the palace. “Come. Let us get politics out of the way and be free to enjoy the rest of the evening together in my palace.”

Odin fell into step beside Laufey as they walked and Thor jogged to keep up as his friends and the Aesir guards fell into step with the Jotunns, who were quiet but not unfriendly, it seemed. However, Thor quickly came to realise just how boring politics could be and he found himself groaning inwardly at the thought of attending this meeting.

“Help me,” he muttered to Sif, but she just laughed and then went back to sharing some joke with a Jotunn soldier by comparing the size of his battle sword to hers.

“My son’s appearance may surprise you,” Laufey said, getting Thor’s attention and he glanced upwards. “Whilst he has always stated he is proud to be a Frost Giant, he prefers to maintain an Aesir form, because he finds it more appealing to others.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have to worry,” began Odin.

“Particularly with women,” Laufey finished, meaningfully, prompting chuckles from both of them.

“I see,” Odin replied, grinning.

It wasn’t the colour of Laufey’s son’s skin that surprised Thor, however, when they came upon him inside the room allocated for their meeting, but his stature. And then he remembered something he had once read about “Frost Giant “runts” in a book, so suddenly the sight of a Jotunheim Prince who was actually almost the same size as he was stopped being surprising.

“Loki,” said Laufey as his son looked up in time to see them walk into the room. He closed his book, pushed it away from him across the table and got to his feet. “Meet Odin of Asgard, and his son Prince Thor.”

Loki made a small bow of respect, inwardly thinking that there was one place in particular he would rather be right now. “I’m honoured to meet you both,” he said, politely, knowing that the sooner this meeting started, then the sooner it could finish and he would be free to pursue his other interest again.

“As we are by you, young Loki,” Odin replied, bowing back.

Loki smiled, briefly, and then slipped back into his chair. This was something that surprised Thor too; he had indeed been expecting them to sit on the floor, as his mother had had him believe, and certainly not with any kind of table between them. Albeit, the furnishings were made of craggy stone that had been polished smooth, but they were furnishings none the less, and he was impressed, even if he didn’t show it.

The meeting began and had only been going on for about two minutes when Thor felt like his eyes were beginning to close. There was nothing, he decided, exciting to be found in politics at all; it was not like a battle, all energy and rushing highs, bloodshed and shouting, pain and fighting. The meeting was slow by comparison and seemed to drag on forever. To distract himself, Thor shot a glance at Loki to see how he was faring. Loki, however, was sitting patiently with his eyes trained on his Father, inwardly counting down the seconds until they could be free of this tortuously slow nightmare.

Eventually, however, just when Thor was wondering if anyone would even notice if he slipped out of the room to find something more exciting to do, the meeting came to an end and both Kings got to their feet. Loki got up too, retrieving his book as he did so. Thor quickly followed suit and walked behind his Father as they were led towards the dining hall.

Again, Thor was surprised to find the place furnished with tables, chairs and long reclining seats, although a few of Laufey’s men had opted to sit on cushions on the floor instead. They were indeed eating with their hands, but the food they dined on was such as Thor would have eaten with his own hands back on Asgard anyway, so he stopped feeling nervous about having to do so. He quickly spotted his friends gathered around a few reclining chairs and quickly went over to join them.

“So, how was it?” Sif grinned at him.

Thor shook his head as he sat down beside Volstagg, who was snacking on what looked like a leg of capon. “I hope I never have to sit through something like that ever again for as long as I live.”

“Wishful thinking,” grinned Fandral. “Think how often your Father has to do it. That’ll be you after he’s gone, you know.”

Thor groaned and ran his hands across his face.

“Blodpudding, sir?” A young Jotunn servant was offering him a plate.

“Oh,” Thor said, smiling gratefully as he took one. “Thank you.”

“You need to try the capon,” Volstagg said through a mouthful of it. “I mean, I thought the food here was supposed to suck-!”

“Shh!” Fandral hissed, though thankfully no one seemed to have heard Volstagg coherently enough to fuss.

“But I’ve been proved wrong!” Volstagg finished, frowning at him.

Thor laughed.

“Wine, my Lord?”

It was a different voice now, and Thor looked up in surprise, as did his friends, for it belonged to a woman. And not just any woman, it seemed. She was fair, and not just the colour of her skin; her features were very beautiful, her face soft, her brown eyes kind and her hair as golden as Asgard itself. But judging from the clothes she wore, she was clearly a Midgardian.

“Um, yes, thank you,” Thor said when he finally found his voice.

“Here,” Hogun said, gruffly, holding up an empty goblet. “We grabbed one for you.”

The woman giggled, lightly, and poured him a generous measure, before moving across the room with the jug still clasped between her hands. Thor watched her, surprised by her presence in a place like this, for after all, no human ever came to Jotunheim. Then it all made sense as he watched her go over to where Loki was sitting alone in a corner of the room. She spoke, although he couldn’t hear what was said, and Loki looked up, relaxing his surprised expression into a sly one as he replied. Whatever he had said was probably some witty remark, as the woman laughed and set down the jug on a table beside him. As she did so, Loki said something else, his expression darkening slightly and the woman stiffened, her cheerful expression faltering as she suddenly looked nervous about something. She ducked her head and Loki caught hold of her hand. She winced, visibly, as he got to his feet and Loki muttered something before taking hold of her wrist instead and then leading her from the room.

Thor and his friends were silent a while as they digested what they had just seen.

“What just happened?” Fandral said, finally, even though they all knew.

Thor stared in the direction that they had gone. “It looks like...she’s a prisoner.”

“The poor girl,” Sif said.

“Are you sure?” Hogun asked. “I mean, he didn’t see particularly...harsh with her.”

“Harsh?” Thor looked at him. “Didn’t you see the expression on his face when he saw her? Or the way she stiffened when he spoke to her, and winced when he touched her? She’s clearly terrified of him. He’s probably been abusing her.”

“And using her to warm his bed,” Sif added, her own expression darkening at the thought.

“Exactly,” Thor agreed, turning to Hogun. “There’s no other explanation for it. She is their prisoner! Why else would a Midgard woman be in Jotunheim?”

Hogun shrugged. “Are you going to tell Odin?”

“What good will that do?” Volstagg asked, though a mouthful of food. “He won’t want to go making waves with the Frost Giants by telling them to release one of their prisoners.”

Thor nodded. “He’d tell us to respect their customs because it’s not our place to interfere.”

“But we must do something,” Sif insisted. “The poor girl’s clearly out of her comfort zone. She needs to be back on Midgard, not here in the freezing cold playing the unwilling bedfellow of a Jotunn Prince.”

Thor nodded. “I agree. We’ve got to do something.”

“Alright, but what?” Fandral asked. “I mean, we can’t very well just go barging into the Prince’s rooms and demand he release the girl, can we? That’ll only make things worse.”

“We can’t let him abuse her,” Sif exclaimed in a horrified gasp.

“I don’t like the idea of it anymore than you do, Sif,” Thor replied, “but Fandral’s right. We need to be subtle about this.”

“Then what’s the plan?” Volstagg asked, taking a sip of wine.

“We return here tomorrow night, and liberate the girl,” Thor replied.

And this was precisely what they did. Or rather, tried to do.

After spending a rather restless night in a Jotunn bed, which was surprisingly comfortable compared to the rest of the furnishings in his guest room, Thor was more than ready to return to Asgard, but he forced his head to listen to his heart as he reminded himself that they were to return here this very evening and rescue the young servant woman from Midgard. After all, who knew what horrors she had gone through the previous night?

So, it was all settled. Laufey and his party saw them to the border where they had arrived the previous day, and as Thor watched him exchange pleasantries with Odin, he couldn’t help feeling that perhaps Laufey had had nothing to do with this young woman’s kidnapping at all; perhaps it had all been engineered by his son. That Loki must be truly wicked to get away with such a thing.

“I look forward to one day creating political ties with you, young Thor,” Laufey said to him, by way of goodbye, “although I shall be sorry to stop receiving your Father’s visits.”

Thor smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Sire. I will be honoured to do business with you also someday.”

The Bifrost took them back home and as Loki watched the rainbow lights from his bedroom window, he felt glad that they had gone, as if he could suddenly breathe again now that they were no longer in Jotunheim. Now everything could go back to normal again; no more putting on a pretence or hiding his true nature. Everything was free to be as it was before.

Or, so he thought.

Thor and his friends worked hard all day coming up with their plan to save the woman. Eventually, the sun began to set in Asgard and the five made their way to the Bifrost Bridge on foot, so as not to alert Odin to their absence by taking horses. Heimdall was surprised to see them again to say the least.

“Prince Thor,” he greeted them, “Warriors Three, Lady Sif. Is there a problem?”

“Heimdall, we need you to open the Bifrost to Jotunheim,” Thor said. “Please.”

Heimdall blinked at him. “Jotunheim?”

“We left something behind,” Sif said.

“All five of you?” Heimdall didn’t look convinced.

“Please, Heimdall?” Thor asked.

Heimdall raised his eyebrows but did as asked. “Be careful,” was all he said to them, and so the Bifrost carried them back to Jotunheim.

“I don’t like this,” Hogun muttered, glancing about them as they approached the palace quietly. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Stop being such a maiden, Hogun,” Thor replied, raising Mjölnir and swinging her around. “Are we all ready?”

“Ready,” Sif said.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Fandral agreed.

“Volstagg, you know what you have to do?” Thor checked.

Volstagg rolled his eyes. “Get in, grab the woman and get back out again. It’s hardly the most complex plan you’ve ever come up with, Thor.”

Thor grinned and then with one final swing, released Mjölnir. The hammer sang as it flew through the air and collided with one of the top castle towers, cracking parts of it off with noises like lightning crackling. The effect was remarkable, for as the five friends quickly pressed back into the shadows, choas began to erupt inside the palace. Pulling himself on top of a rather disgruntle Fandral’s shoulders, Volstagg tucked the Jotunn-style cloak they had managed to procure with the help of one of the Queen’s personal seamstresses, around them to hide their lack of blue skin and then ran forwards, intermixing with a crowd of Frost Giants who had come running out to see what the damage was. They ran into the palace and began to hunt for the young woman.

Meanwhile, Thor, Sif and Hogun slipped further along the shadows, looking for a place from which they could cause more distractions. As they moved along, Hogun glanced up at the palace and saw the young woman they had come to rescue appear at the balcony of one of the top room windows to see what the damage may be. Something about her appearance confirmed his suspicions, although he couldn’t put his finger on what.

“I’m telling you, Thor, something is wrong,” he muttered, but Thor ignored him and sent Mjölnir singing again towards another part of the palace, not doing too much damage but just enough to get everyone running around, creating more confusion and giving Fandral and Volstagg the time they needed to rescue the young woman.

“I hope we find her soon,” Fandral groused as he hurried up the stairs. “I can’t hold you much longer!”

“Shut up and keep running!” Volstagg retorted.

“That’s it,” Fandral panted, leaning on a wall to catch his breath. “Next time I’m going on your shoulders! I swear you’re putting on weight!”

Then, to their surprise, the woman they were after came running past them. Fandral straightened up and hurried them towards her, and Volstagg caught her shoulder. She spun around with a wild-eyed look and an exclamation of “What is it?” Then, she saw who had caught hold of her and she frowned in confusion. “What are you doing back here?”

“We’ve come to rescue you, Miss,” Volstagg replied.

“Rescue me?” the woman repeated, bewildered.

“Volstagg!” Fandral groaned. “Shoulders going!”

Without another word, Volstagg grabbed the girl in his arms and threw her bodily over his shoulder. Fandral groaned with the extra weight but began to run regardless as the woman gave a startled shriek of “What do you think you’re doing? Put me down at once!” and began to batter at him.

“Easy, Miss,” Volstagg muttered as Fandral ran them along the corridor and then hid behind a wall as several other Frost Giants ran towards the door. Volstagg quickly set the woman on her feet but before she could say anything, he spun her about and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shh!” he hissed, and the three of them listened until Fandral deemed it safe to go.

“Now or never,” he muttered, and with that the pair of them threw off the cloak and began to run towards the door, which was now clear of all Frost Giants. Volstagg dragged the woman behind them, even though she struggled and protested, but they barely heard her as they ran towards the spot where Thor had told them to meet and take the Bifrost back to Asgard.

“Will you kindly take your hands off me, please?” The woman snapped, finally managing to wrench her arm free of Volstagg’s grip. “And tell me what exactly is going on?”

“It’s alright, Miss,” began Volstagg.

“Excuse me, I have a name,” the woman interrupted, sharply. “It’s Georgiana.”

“Miss Georgiana,” Volstagg went on, “I know you’re a bit confused and scared right now, but rest assured, you’ll be safe soon.”

“Safe?” Georgiana repeated. “From what?” She shivered, since she was only wearing a thin cotton nightdress with long sleeves over her fur-lined boots. Before either man could make to wrap a cloak around her, however, Thor, Sif and Hogun came racing up to them.

“Heimdall, open the Bifrost!” Thor exclaimed. “We don’t have much time!”

Georgiana turned back to the palace, all ready to run, but before she could do so, the Bifrost swallowed them all up and she let out a scream that carried right back to the palace, and all the Frost Giants heard it. Then, she felt something solid beneath her feet and she stumbled, almost falling over, but Sif caught her arm and steadied her. Georgiana, however, shot her a glare and pulled her arm free before turning to Thor. “Prince Thor, I demand that you take me back home right now!”

“Don’t worry, we’re going to,” Thor reassured her. “Whereabouts on Midgard do you live?”

To their surprise, she simply stared at him. “Midgard?”

“Sorry,” Thor corrected himself. “Earth.”

Georgiana let out a soft, sarcastic laugh. “Yes, I know what Midgard is! But it might interest you to know that it hasn’t been my home for the last five years!”

Heimdall had finally come up, and his eyes widened at the sight of her. “Prince Thor,” he said, shaking his head. “What have you done?”

Thor frowned. “What do you mean? We just rescued this woman-”

“Rescued?” Georgiana repeated. “Is that what you’re calling this? Because it seems like you just dragged me away from home and hearth for no valid reason whatsoever!”

Sif stared at her. “But you’re Loki’s prisoner!”

“Loki’s...?” Georgiana’s eyes widened and she looked genuinely offended. “Is that what you thought? That he was holding me against my will?”

“I knew something was wrong,” Hogun muttered, closing his eyes.

“What are you saying?” Thor demanded, stepping up to her.

Georgiana glared up at him. “I am saying, Prince Thor,” and she put heavy emphasis on the name when she said it just to show her indignation, “that Loki is not my captor. He’s my husband!”