Blood Moon

The rush of the Bifrost was familiar to Eyvor, something she hadn’t felt often but a feeling she knew. It was cold, but also blazing hot, and powerful, like the waves on the ocean that could tip the largest boats over without issue. The quiet that immediately followed was overwhelming, and she didn’t fault Jake for clutching onto her hand tight enough that she could feel his arm shaking from the strain. It was disorienting, and nothing she could have told him would have prepared him for that. The shimmering room that marked the entrance to Asgard was lit brightly, as always, and Heimdall stood in the center, his armor gleaming and his sword in front of him, the watchmen ever-ready to protect the Realm.

“Welcome to Asgard,” he rumbled, and Eyvor rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Thank you,” she replied, looking over at Jake, who had lost some of the color in his cheeks as he was still reorienting himself. “You okay?” Jake nodded, but she shuffled closer to let him lean against her, just in case.

“Your arrival has been eagerly awaited,” Heimdall continued.

“How many times have Mother and Father asked you when we were coming?” Eyvor asked. The brief laugh Heimdall let out told her it was a high number. “I’m surprised they aren’t here already.”

“I told them it was tomorrow.” She smiled.

“For a meddling old man, sometimes I like you more than anyone else here.” Heimdall smiled.

“Welcome home, Eyvor.” Jake shifted away, standing on his feet and straightening his shoulders.

“Better?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Jake, this is Heimdall, gatekeeper of the Bifrost. Heimdall, Jake Lockley.”

“Hi,” Jake greeted.

“Welcome to Asgard, Jake Lockley.”

“Come on, tvillingsjel,” Eyvor urged. “It’s a long walk across the Rainbow Bridge.” Jake was staring at himself in the reflective floor. “Steven can ask his questions later. Let’s go.” She tugged at his arm, and he willingly followed. “Bye, Heimdall!”

“Farewell, Eyvor.” She led Jake to the opening out of the Bifrost room and out into the open air, and she paused, letting the boys take it in. The golden palace stretching high above everything, gleaming in the setting sun, with all the glittering buildings surrounding its base. The air smelled sweet, like fresh fruit and warm spring days full of flowers. The water below them was crystalline, glistening and rolling. Eyvor knew that her home was beautiful, and she took the time to admire it for a moment. 

“Steven, no, you–” Jake said, and Eyvor smiled.

“Let him have the body just for a moment, tvillingsjel. It won’t hurt anything.” Jake grumbled, and then Steven was turning to her with wide eyes and a bright smile.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never seen anythin’ like this ever. It’s–wow, I can’t believe we’re in Asgard. Where is your house? Can we see it from here? Have you ever been into the palace? Do you–”

“Steven, solskinn, breathe,” Eyvor laughed, taking his hands and pulling him away from the door. “You can’t see my house from here, but you can see Mother’s orchard.” She pointed to the far right of the island that houses the city. “Do you see those trees?”

“Yeah. Is that the orchard?”

“It’s part of it. We’re heading that way, though. My house is on the far side.”

“Bit of a walk, innit?” She laughed.

“Just a bit.” A sharp whistle rang through the air, and Eyvor looked behind them to see a horse standing by the entrance to the Bifrost. 

“I thought you’d want to ride,” Heimdall called from inside the golden dome of the Bifrost entrance.

“Meddler!” Eyvor called back, but she reached for Steven’s hand and began to lead him to the horse. He stopped, though, and when she looked back, Jake was staring up at the horse skeptically. “What’s the matter?”

“Never ridden one before,” he replied.

“I know how to ride something the great Jake Lockley doesn’t? This day should go down in history!” He rolled his eyes at her.

“Never had to learn. I’m a city boy, remember?”

“Come on, it’s not that hard.” She put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself atop the horse, the motion coming easily to her. She reached an arm down for him. “I’ll help you.” He took her arm and held on with both hands before trying to follow the movement she had made. It didn’t work, but she was able to pull him up all the same. “Hold on to me,” she said. “Asgardian horses are faster than Midgardian ones, and you won’t be used to it.” His arms looped around her waist. “Ready?”

“Sí.” She adjusted his grip and pulled his arms tighter.

“Tight, tvillingsjel. It’s a long way down if you fall off.” Jake gave her a squeeze and nearly forced all the air out of her with it, but she laughed, turned her head around to kiss him, and then squeezed the horse’s sides with her legs. It set off, and she urged it into a gallop, its hooves pounding across the Rainbow Bridge. 

Eyvor couldn’t fly. The closest she’d ever been was laying on Marc’s back as he glided on the desert winds towards the city. Before then, though, she’d flown on the backs of horses through her home, arms spread wide as the air buffeted her face and whipped through her hair. Asgardian horses were so much faster than she remembered, and the people of Asgard knew to get out of the way if they heard hooves on the cobblestone roads. She heard Jake let out a whoop behind her as they rode, and she grinned, letting the thrill rush through her blood in ways she’d only felt in the heat of fighting. Even if he didn’t know how to ride horses, she was certain she and Jake would be riding a lot while they were here. She pulled on the reins slightly to get the horse to slow down, and they turned, leaving the city behind and stepping onto a dirt path, wide enough for horses, but not carts. They passed rows of flowering shrubs and ducked under trellises covered in ivy before arriving in an orchard, nothing but trees spreading out in front of them. The air was sweet, filled with flowers and fruit, and as they rode underneath the branches, she reached up and snagged an apple from the bough that was nearly buckling under the weight of the fruit it carried.

“Welcome to my Mother’s orchard,” she said to Jake. “Go on, pick one. I’m allowed to take what I want from here, and they taste so much better fresh from the trees.” She felt Jake let go of her waist and was nearly hit in the face with leaves when he pulled down the entire branch to grab one. She burst into laughter, and she felt the rumbling of his chest behind her as he quietly laughed as well. There was a crunch, and she heard him hum appreciatively.

“Tienes razón,” he said. “They are better.” She continued on, letting the horse walk down the path leisurely. It was peaceful, quiet, not a sound but the wind through the trees and the waves on the shore off to their right.

“This is delicious, love,” Steven remarked, and she smiled, happy that Jake let him have a taste as well.

“I told you, Mother’s apples are fought over and coveted.”

“Did all those things really happen? When people try to steal them?”

“She did get kidnapped, yes. And Loki did save her. He didn’t turn her into a walnut or anything, though. That part was made up by the people on Midgard. He just helped her onto a boat, and their boat was faster.”

“What did you do?”

“Oh, I was too young at the time to know what was going on. I barely remember it happening. I remember Mother being gone for a while, and Father being sadder than ever, but it was over so quickly that I don’t think I ever realized there was anything to worry about.”

“Oh.” They rode in silence again, and she pointed up ahead of them.

“There’s a fountain up ahead, and we should be able to see my house from there.”

“Pretty far away,” Marc said, his voice muffled from a mouthful of apple. She smiled again. 

“Mother likes her privacy, and Father says the quiet lets him focus on his songs.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’ll be honest,” she said as they continued forward, “I thought you would let Jake and Steven handle this trip.” Marc was quiet for a second.

“I wanted to try the apple.” She giggled.

“I’d like it if you were here. I want all of you to enjoy this.”

“I’m awake,” he replied. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You know that’s impossible.”

“I know,” he sighed. They reached the fountain, which was a stone structure carved to look like a woman bent over helping a small child pour water out of a large jar. “Is that supposed to be you?” Eyvor laughed.

“It is. Doesn’t look much like me, does it?”

“No, I can see your crooked nose. I can see it.”

“Marc!” Eyvor gasped, twisting in her saddle to gape at him. “My nose is not crooked!” He grinned at her, proud of himself. She jabbed him in the thigh with two fingers and turned back around in a huff. “I cannot believe you.” The arms returned around her waist, a half-eaten apple in one hand, and squeezed.

“Your nose is perfect, mi amor,” Jake assured her. “He’s only teasing you.”

“I know, she replied. “If anything, you have the crooked nose, as many times as I’ve seen you get punched in the face.” He chuckled.

“Work hazard.” She shook her head fondly and urged the horse past the fountain while she pointed ahead of them.

“See it?” Her house was just through the trees, nestled between two of the oldest apple trees her mother had planted, but perched on the cliffside overlooking the ocean. The orchard went to the very edge of the cliff, but her mother had her own garden with other plants near the house, the smell of flowers thicker here than anywhere else in the orchard.

“Your house?”

“Yeah. If Mother and Father are too much, you can leave. I don’t mind.” He squeezed her waist in lieu of answering. They broke through the tree line, met with the crisp smell of the ocean along with the faint sounds of strings playing. “That’s Father. He’s probably serenading Mother again.” They stopped at the front of the house, Eyvor helping them to dismount and laughing when she watched Jake’s legs buckle underneath him after the unfamiliarity of riding a horse. “Are you okay?”

“Bueno.” The gate to the garden swung open, and Eyvor turned just in time to be caught up in her father’s arms as he laughed.

“Eyvor, my little dewdrop! You’re home early!” He pressed kisses all over her face, squeezing tight. “Welcome home, dewdrop!”

“Hello, Father,” Eyvor greeted, returning his hug. “I’m not early. Heimdall just told you a day late.”

“My darling,” her mother said, reaching out for her, and Eyvor wiggled away from Bragi to her mother’s arms. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Mother. I’m glad to be home.”

“And you must be the one my daughter talked so highly of!” Bragi exclaimed, turning to Jake, who was standing awkwardly by the horse, hitching his bag up higher on his shoulder.

“Mother, Father,” Eyvor said, sliding out of her mother’s grasp, “this is Jake Lockley. This is my father, Bragi, and my mother, Iðunn.”

“Welcome to Asgard,” Bragi greeted, his smile wide and his eyes bright.

“Please, come inside,” Iðunn insisted, motioning with her hand for Jake to follow her. Eyvor fell into step with him, letting her parents lead the way.

“If they’re too much, let me know,” Eyvor said. “I’ve never brought someone home before. They’re excited.”

“Gracias, rosa de sangre.”

“De nada.” The inside of Eyvor’s home was warm and bright, with large windows open to let in the sunlight and sheer curtains flowing in the breeze. Everything was in one room, the seating area and the kitchen, as well as the bench her father often sat on when he was working on a new song. There were three doorways on the right side of the room, two with curtains and one with a door. “I’ll show Jake my room first,” Eyvor said before her parents could start questioning him. “We’ll be right back.”

“Alright, dewdrop,” Bragi answered, settling onto the pillows and cushions in front of the doors that led out into the gardens, where the breeze from the ocean was blowing in. “Hurry back.” Eyvor led Jake to the far curtain, pushing through it and stepping into her room, which was nearly exactly like she’d left it. There wasn’t much in it, as she hadn’t spent much time here, but it was cozy. It was small, but she didn’t mind. She had a small porch that was built out from the house, nearly over the edge of the cliff, and the doors were open, the blue sheer curtains billowing out into the room. Her other window was open as well, filling the room with the scent of flowers and the ocean. Her bed was covered in soft blankets and furs, a curtain of light fabric creating a canopy above and around it. On one side, her wardrobe was standing open, filled with the nice clothes she hadn’t brought with her, and some of the weapons she’d used when she was younger carefully stored beneath them. 

“Cozy,” Jake commented.

“Very. You can put the bag down anywhere. And if you need space, the porch is the unspoken safe spot. They won’t bother you there.”

“I’ll be fine, gotita.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“When they tell you stories about me, you’ll change your mind. And if Father starts mentioning anything about grapefruit? Run. I’ll be right behind you.” He started to question her, and she shook her head. “It’s better for all of us if you don’t know, trust me.”

“They seem like fun,” he said with a grin.

“You’ve only known them for ten minutes. That’ll change.” She gave him a kiss. “No matter what happens, I love you.”

“Te amo.” With that, she took a deep breath, shook out her shoulders, and pulled Jake back through the curtain to the questioning and embarrassment they were both about to endure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jake wasn’t a people person; Eyvor knew this very well. It was amazing how well he could pretend he was a people person. Her parents were a lot, she knew this. Eyvor wasn’t really anything like them. Bragi was loud and boisterous, and Iðunn was doting and quiet. Eyvor liked to think she had a quiet intensity to her, but she had never felt that she shared anything with her parents but her affinity for music, love of apples (and fruit in general) and, as Mimir had always said, eyes that always shone with mischief like her father’s. 

That being said, she must have done a good job preparing Jake for them, because he was playing the part of interested listener perfectly (though from the occasional fiddling with his sleeves, she imagined that Steven was helping a great deal in that regard). 

“–but here I am, rambling, when I should be getting to know you better!” Bragi exclaimed, cutting himself off of his latest ramble. “Tell me, how did you meet our little dewdrop?” 

“Father,” Eyvor groaned from where she was helping her mother peel and slice apples for the dessert she was making for after dinner.

“No, no, I won’t hear any more out of you! I want to hear him tell me.” Iðunn hadn’t spoken much in the conversation, but she was watching the two interact with a small smile on her lips. 

“We–” Jake paused. “Similar paths in life,” he replied, speaking a bit slowly and giving time for Bragi to translate it mentally. It helped that Old Norse and Old English were so similar, so her parents were able to pick things up the way that Eyvor had, but there was still a language barrier they were working to overcome. Eyvor had to translate a few times already. 

“Paths?”

“Jake and I both protect people,” Eyvor explained. “That’s how we met, protecting people.”

“Oh, so you’re a fighter too, eh?” Jake nodded.

“We saved a group of kids together.”

“He punched, I held a van, it was great,” Eyvor said with a smile at Jake, which he happily returned. She did enjoy the times they got to fight together. It hadn’t happened as often, since they were still keeping their work with Khonshu a secret from Marc and Steven, but she loved it when it happened.

“I’m glad that you are able to do what you love, darling,” Iðunn said, patting her hand gently.

“Thank you, Mother.”

“And you met such a fine man to do it with!” Bragi said. Eyvor glanced over at Jake again. She wanted to tell them about Marc and Steven too, but if he wasn’t ready, she wasn’t going to. Jake gave her a tiny shrug. She rolled her eyes fondly.

“What are the two of you talking about?” Iðunn asked. Of course she noticed. Eyvor looked back at Jake, who gave her a small nod, but kept his mouth shut. Looks like she was doing the explaining.

“Well, I met Jake first, but I met his two brothers later. We were seeing if maybe we should introduce you to them as well.”

“Oh, we would love to meet them, dewdrop!” Bragi replied with a bright smile. “You should have brought them with you!”

“We did,” Eyvor replied, sliding the apples to her mother to continue working. “That’s why we were talking. It’s not difficult to explain, really, but we didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Are they invisible?” Bragi joked.

“In a way,” Eyvor replied. She and Jake gave her parents almost the same talk that he had given her all that time ago in his cab, her sitting in the floorboards and him staring out the windshield so he didn’t have to look at her while he explained. It took about the same length of time, with Eyvor throwing in that she and Steven were as involved as she and Jake were, but she and Marc were just friends. Iðunn, for her part, took everything in stride, and while Jake balked and backed away at the offered hug from the woman, when Jake allowed Steven to front to begin the new round of introductions, he took the hug happily.

“Hello,” he greeted with a bright smile. “Name’s Steven, with a V.”  Eyvor watched her mother’s eyes light up with delight. Oh no.

“Hello, Steven. It’s lovely to meet you. Would you like some tarts?”

“Love some, actually. They smell delicious,” he replied, and Eyvor allowed herself to shift to the background. Steven was so good with people, and he had both her mother and father charmed within five minutes of speaking to them. Marc had told her once that Steven was the best of them, and she didn’t always agree with the notion, mostly because she hated to compare the boys in any way, but she would agree that he was the best with people. Marc was horribly suspicious of every single person, and Jake was selective. Steven was kind to everyone, even if they weren’t kind to him. Luckily for her, Bragi and Iðunn were loving people. Even though she had felt misunderstood most of her life, Eyvor would be the first to tell others that her parents had been endlessly supportive of her pursuits. She’d never felt neglected or anything like that. 

She watched from her preferred seat in one of the wide sills of the open windows, the breeze from the ocean blowing her hair slightly as she watched Steven ask endless questions of her parents, where they were answered patiently and with delight. She had to help translate a few times, but not often. Her parents were picking up the language quickly. Iðunn told him all about her orchard and garden, the care of them, and she happily told him about the time she’d been kidnapped because of her apples. It was one of her favorite stories to tell. Bragi told him about the skalds that he had worked with over the years, and some of the things that he had witnessed. Steven was awestruck when he mentioned that he had helped write Beowulf, and that prompted a whole new batch of questions, which made Eyvor lean comfortably in her seat with a fond smile on her face. Steven, more than Jake or Marc, would enjoy this trip the most, the little scholar. 

The conversation was halted when there was a knock on the open front door, and Eyvor’s eyes widened when she saw Frigga herself standing in the door. That did not bode well.

“Solskinn,” she whispered, making Steven turn his attention to her, “come here.” She held out a hand for him, and he came over, taking her hand and looking at her in confusion. “When she introduces herself, bow.”

“Why?”

“I see the rumors I heard were true,” Frigga said with a smile. “The wayward daughter had come home for a visit.” Eyvor stood to her feet, giving a slight bow for Steven to copy in a moment.

“It is good to be home, my queen,” she replied. Steven let out a short gasp, stiffening beside her.

“Welcome home, Eyvor. Your parents have missed you dearly,” the Queen of Asgard said to her.

“I’ve missed them as well.”

“And I had heard that you brought someone with you. Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Her sharp eyes were turned on Steven.

“This is Steven. Solskinn, may I introduce you to the Queen of Asgard, Frigga.” Steven gave an awkward little bow, ducking his head in a jerk.

“It’s an–an honor,” he said, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Frigga smiled at him.

“Hello, Steven. Eyvor, don’t be rude.” Eyvor furrowed her brow in confusion.

“My queen?” she asked.

“I was raised by witches, child. I know things. Now, finish the introductions.” Eyvor looked over at Steven, who was looking at her in awe, and she shrugged.

“Up to you, solskinn,” she said to him.

“It’s all right, love,” he replied, and Marc’s wary gaze snapped back over to the queen standing in Eyvor’s house. 

“Marc Spector,” he said with a stiff nod, but the queen just smiled warmly at him.

“A pleasure.”

“Eyvor,” Marc said quietly, and she shrugged at him again.

“I don’t know what to tell you, kjæreste,” she whispered back, “but she’s the queen.” Marc gave her parents a cautious look.

“She talks about you a lot,” he said awkwardly, but her mother and father both brightened regardless.

“We’re excited to get to know all of you,” Iðunn replied. Marc looked back at Eyvor, who gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“It’ll be okay, kjæreste.” He rolled his shoulders, and Jake looked angrier than usual, shifting to stand slightly in front of Eyvor to look at the queen.

“Jake Lockley,” he said, touching the brim of his hat in respect. Frigga gave him the same smile. 

“Lovely to meet you, Jake,” she replied. “Now, Eyvor, you have returned home, and that is something to be celebrated. After all, there are those in our fair home that would love to know that you’ve returned to us safely. Iðunn, make sure that they’ve got whatever they need, and we shall see you at dusk.” With that, she swept out of the room with a regal turn, and Eyvor immediately started protesting.

“Mother, please, don’t make us go. I hate parties, and the boys hate crowds.”

“When Queen Frigga tells you to go to a party, you go, my darling,” Iðunn replied. “Surely you’ve still got some nice clothes in your wardrobe?”

“Mother, I don’t want to go.”

“Nonsense. It’s only one night. Well, you’ll only be expected for one night. Please? For your father and I?” Eyvor looked back at Jake, who was watching her carefully, and sighed.

“Father, do you think you’ve got something we can borrow?” she asked, and Bragi launched into an excited ramble about all the options he had that Jake was welcome to borrow, while Eyvor gave Jake the most apologetic look she could muster.

They had a party to get ready for, apparently, and she was not excited about it.