Blood Moon

Mimir lived in the roots of the World Tree that was hidden far below the ground of Asgard. As a child, it had been easy for Eyvor to slip in and out without notice, as she was only a child, what harm could she do? She hadn’t meant to find her way into this darkened hollow in the earth where only a magical beam of light gave any form of illumination to where the old frost giant lived. The pool of water was always calm, except for when he would take a sip out of it. When she was younger, she’d asked for a sip too, but he’d replied that it was only for adults. When she got older, Eyvor realized what the water actually was and how angry with her and Mimir Odin would be, and she never asked again. Instead, she brought a basket with her and shared bits of food with him as he patiently answered all of her questions. As she’d grown, it was harder for Eyvor to get in and out without Odin’s ravens catching sight of her, but with Tyr’s teaching and Mimir’s instructions, she had always been able to find ways to reach her oldest friend and greatest confidant. 

Like it or not, Marc was the stealthiest of all of them, and Eyvor made Steven promise to let him handle this because Odin would not take kindly to her bringing someone from Midgard into the Pool of Knowledge. Basket in one hand and Marc’s in the other, Eyvor led him into the gardens of Asgard, and then out past the hedge walls to the stone path leading to the forests, and further still until they reached an overgrown patch of thorns and vines that grew in tight knots up the side of a cliff. Carefully, Eyvor lowered herself to the ground and crawled on her belly into a small patch that was mostly vines, not thorns, until she was inside the cliff walls. She heard shuffling behind her, and a hand gripped onto her ankle in the dark. “Ready,” Marc breathed into the silence, and she led him forward, pushing the basket ahead of her, until she saw a familiar blue glow ahead of them. Gripping the basket, she tilted her head back towards Marc.

“Let go. There’s a drop ahead.” He released her, and she tumbled down out of the tunnel into a soft pile of furs that she had first dropped onto all those years ago. She barely had time to get out of the way before Marc landed with a much less graceful thud and “oof.” Eyvor helped him to his feet, dusting off some of the debris from the overgrown tunnel. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Marc answered, looking around the area they were in, before his eyes widened, and Steven’s smile spread.

“Oh, oh wow, is this–”

“Hold on, solskinn,” Eyvor said, picking up her basket. “There’s someone you have to meet first.” She stepped forward, gently pulling Steven along behind her, into the blue glow of the room. 

It was a cave, a large one, and it was lit entirely in a dim blue light that shone like a beam into the still pool of water that took up the majority of the cave. Roots grew all over the walls, nearly covering the rock entirely, and there were some that were growing from one end of the cave to the other, creating obstacles in the middle of the space. There was a stone wall around the pool, and the closer they walked, the more they had to tip their heads back to see the top of it, but Eyvor pulled Steven towards a root that was growing out of the ground and up at an angle. “How good are you at climbing, solskinn?” she asked.

“Not very. Never had a use for it, have I?” Eyvor laughed.

“Hold onto me,” she said, and Steven clambered up onto her back, holding on tightly as she bit down on the handle of the basket and started climbing. The higher they got, the more Steven twisted and turned, trying to take everything in, until they were even with the top of the wall and Eyvor jumped, catching the side of the wall in one hand and gripping Steven’s arm with the other to keep the jolt from making him fall. “Are you okay?” she said around the basket handle.

“Bit of a warnin’ next time, yeah?” She pulled them up onto the wall, and Steven dropped down from his perch on her back.

“Sorry, solskinn,” Eyvor said, taking the handle out of her mouth. 

“Visitors?” a voice said, and Eyvor couldn’t help the brightening in her soul that she felt at the soft timbre it held. “Been a long time since I’ve had visitors.”

“Well, had to make sure you hadn’t gone and drowned yourself, didn’t I?” Eyvor called, taking Steven’s hand and walking along the wall, which was as wide as a city block for them. 

“Ah, Eyvor. No, haven’t drowned yet.” Eyvor pointed Steven’s gaze towards the voice, where the shadows of the roots cast the figure into darkness, but she could easily see the familiar figure of Mimir resting by the side of the pool, where he had always been. He was unchanged, white locks plaited neatly, his beard braided and neat, and his eyes kind and wisened. She still sighed at the sight of the angle he was forced to live at, so he could take his daily sips from the pool without assistance, because Odin would never let anyone stay down here to help him. She’d once asked if she could find some cushion or something for him, but he had only dismissed the notion, saying she would get in trouble for such things, and Odin would keep a closer eye on this place for it. “It is good to see you, my dear.”

“You as well, Mimir.”

“I see you’ve brought someone with you this time. Come closer. Let me get a look at them.” Eyvor nudged Steven closer to the talking head, which laid on its side, a quarter submerged on a shelf built into the side of the well so it could drink from the water when needed.

“‘Ello,” Steven said, waving slightly. “Name’s Steven, with a ‘V,’ none of that ‘ph’ business. Eyvor’s told me a lot about you, but I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect all of this. It’s–wow are we underneath the World Tree?” Mimir laughed, and Eyvor settled down on the ground, pulling open the basket while Steven looked at Mimir with bright eyes.

“We are, Steven. It is from here that it draws its life.” Many of the roots were plunging deep into the pool on the other side, but here, it was clear of most of the roots, as Mimir used to sit here and contemplate the knowledge he gained. After he was beheaded in the war between the gods, though, Odin fashioned the shelf for him, and Mimir was allowed to continue his ever-growing knowledge while Odin came to consult him regularly. Eyvor had many instances as a child when she had to hide amongst the roots to keep from being discovered by the All-Father when visiting her friend, but she was glad that at least he was still able to be in this place. He had never cared for the louder parties and grandeur of Asgard.

“Love?” Eyvor jerked her head up from where she had been setting out the food she’d brought with them to where Mimir and Steven were looking at her.

“Hm? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

“Tell me about Midgard,” Mimir said as Steven sat down next to her. “It’s been a long time since I visited.” He gave her a wry grin, and Eyvor smiled.

“It’s loud. And busy. And there are so many people there. But it’s also beautiful, and I like it there very much.”

“You seem happier than you were last we spoke.”

“I am. Thank you.” Mimir looked back at Steven, who was practically wriggling in place.

“You have questions. I will answer them.”

“Oh, so many. Shut me up if I babble on too much. What are the other Realms like? Eyvor’s never been to them, she says, and I’m dyin’ to know, honestly.”

“Oh, well that is quite the question, Steven Grant. We’ll begin with Alfheim, because Eyvor has been there but she doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Mimir!” Eyvor exclaimed. “Don’t tell him about that!”

“No, please tell me!” Steven said eagerly.

“It’s my favorite story of you,” Mimir replied, eyes glinting mischievously. Eyvor groaned.

“Go on. I can’t stop you.” She glared at Steven. “I’m eating your cashews, though.”

“Aw, love,” Steven pouted, but she huffed and turned around, grabbing the small container of nuts to begin munching on pointedly. The sad thing was, she couldn’t even stop the boys from listening, because Jake and Marc were probably equally as interested in hearing the story as Steven was.

“Oh, how many springs had it been, Eyvor? You weren’t yet a young adult, were you?”

“I was, and you know it.” He chuckled.

“This was before the war, you must understand,” Mimir said, “so I was in my full sense of self, and I could see it unfold in its glory.”

“In it’s nightmare,” Eyvor muttered.

“Oh, love, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“Listen to the story, solskinn, and maybe I’ll share some cashews with you.”

“May I at least have my hummus and pita?” She handed them over. “Thank you, love.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Well, Freyr had invited his sister to visit, and of course anywhere Freya goes, she brings Bragi and his wife for entertainment, and as Eyvor was allowed to go. I went along as well, as I had some business to attend to in Alfheim. However, that first night, a celebration went on for hours, well into the late morning the next day.”

“Freyr threw good parties,” Eyvor commented.

“He did,” Mimir agreed.

“‘Did?’” Steven echoed. “Is he dead?”

“He’s been missing for a very long time,” Mimir replied. “No one knows where he is, and the Nine Realms have all been searched. But that’s another story. This party, welcoming his sister to his realm, was lavish and extravagant, and one of the biggest parties thrown outside of the house of Odin himself. Your imagination couldn’t come up with how much food and splendor there was, nor how many people there were.”

“It was awful,” Eyvor grumbled, biting into an apple and staring down into the water beside them.

“In that, I will agree,” Mimir replied. “There were so many people that at times the giant hall felt smaller than a pantry. Now, I had stepped outside to wander the gardens, as Alfheim is known for its lush fauna, and surely Freyr’s gardens would be the best. I was correct, unsurprisingly, and as I wandered back towards the palace to rejoin the festivities, I heard a commotion.” Eyvor bit back a groan. “The sound of raised voices, and then water splashing, followed by even louder shouting. I followed the sounds, along with several other party-goers, to find Eyvor there standing smugly off to one side while her parents fussed over her, and to find the son of one of Asgard’s minor nobility drenched in the grand fountain, his face the color of a tomato as he shouted at her.”

“What happened?” Steven asked, looking over at Eyvor, who refused to meet his gaze. She hated this story. It was funny, she would admit, but she hated it. 

“Well, she could probably tell you better than I, but since she seems inclined to forget it happened all together, I’ll tell you what we were all able to piece together. Eyvor did not make it a habit, and still doesn’t, to appear in most of the festivities of Asgard. If she does, she tends to find Tyr and shadow him or find a hidden corner and remain there for the entirety of the party. This led to a reputation amongst regular attendees that she was both terribly shy and incredibly repressed and sheltered. Most people didn’t know that she was Bragi’s daughter, simply because he was always entertaining, as he does, and she was as far away from that as possible. Besides, she takes after her mother more than her father.

“Either way, she was this mysterious young woman who had been cast as this delicate wallflower, and it was going to attract some attention at some point. Eyvor, what was the boy’s name?”

“I don’t remember,” Eyvor replied.

“No matter. Anyway, this boy got it into his head that she would make for an easy target. His intentions were less-than-pure, and he had managed to find Eyvor watching the large fountain in the center of Freyr’s garden. He made several attempts at her, all of which she spurned, and he grew frustrated, calling her many names, and when he tried to force her to follow him, she flung him into the fountain!” She watched in the water’s reflection as Steven looked at her with wide eyes.

“Really?”

“I did,” she said.

“The boy was in a rage after that, but the fountain was so slick that he couldn’t get out on his own, and she moved as far away from him to watch, and that is when all of us arrived. I believe Tyr handled him, did he not?” Mimir asked.

“He did. I don’t know how. I never asked.”

“Nor does it matter. However, it caused such a scandal that no one was allowed to leave a party unaccompanied for several years afterwards, for fear of it happening again. Bragi may seem absentminded, but he is formidable, and when his daughter is thrown into the mix? He caused such a stir that Odin himself apologized on the boy’s behalf.”

“Why is that your favorite story?” Steven asked. “That’s horrible.”

“Because I knew that she was as dangerous as Tyr, when she wanted to be, and she had never had cause to be so until that night. Everyone finally knew not to mess with her, and Tyr and I got to watch everyone else learn it in one night.”

“Love?” Steven asked, reaching out hesitantly towards her, and she looked up at him.

“Yes, solskinn?”

“Why do you hate it?”

“Everyone stared at me after that,” she replied, “as if I were an explosion waiting to happen. Or something for them to figure out. I didn’t go to parties again for a long time.” Steven scooted closer to her, leaning into her side.

“I’m sorry, love. Glad you handled that bloke, sounds like he deserved it, but I’m sorry.” She smiled and gave him a small kiss.

“Thank you, solskinn. You can have your cashews back.”

“Ooh.” 

“Tell us something different, Mimir,” Eyvor said as Steven grabbed his cashews out of her hand. “Something fun. Steven likes to learn.”

“Oh certainly! Let’s begin with the squirrels in your mother’s orchard. Let’s see, this was before the war, still, and after your mother was kidnapped, if I remember correctly.”

“You do.”

“Ah, right. Now, Eyvor’s mother takes very good care of her orchard, and it’s not uncommon for animals to try to make a home there when they aren’t supposed to. One day, when she was gathering apples…”

They sat at the edge of the pool, listening to his stories and Steven asking questions, until it was very late in the evening, and they left Mimir through a different entrance, because Eyvor had promised to show Jake something, and they were nearby. When they slipped out, Jake grabbed her in a tight hug.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Who? Mimir? I don’t think you can, but why would you?”

“No. That bastardo who touched you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” she said with a smile. “No one’s seen him since that night. I’m not saying Tyr killed him, but he’s definitely banished, I can tell you that much. Gracias, tvillingsjel, but it’s okay.” Jake grumbled, but she distracted him by nipping at his neck. “Come on, I promised to show you something.” They were in a densely-wooded part of the forest of Asgard, and she led him away from the hole that led to Mimir, to a different crack in the ground, going far into the mountain until they emerged in a cavern that was open to the moonlight via a hole in the cave above them. It illuminated an underground waterfall and pool, and Eyvor giggled, letting go of Jake’s hand to run towards the water, kicking off her shoes as she went. “Come on, tvillingsjel!” she heard Jake chuckle, just before she threw off her shirt and dove underneath the waterfall, soaking herself in the slightly-chilly water, but Jake caught up quickly, both of them missing their clothes, and she giggled. “I told you I’d show you the best place in Asgard.”

“You did, mi amor,” Jake rumbled, nipping at her earlobe, “and we aren’t leaving for a while.”

“Good. Just make sure we can get back right after sunrise. Mother will ask questions otherwise.”

“Of course, rosa de sangre.” He pushed her up against the rock wall, and she giggled.

“What’re you waiting for, tvillingsjel?” she teased. Jake made a sound low in his throat, giving her a harsh bite, and she laughed again.

They only barely made it back to her house in time for sunrise, hair still dripping slightly. It was worth the exhaustion.

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

Eyvor was glad that she’d gotten to show the boys Asgard, but all of them were ready to go back to Midgard. After making sure to say goodbye to Tyr and Mimir, they rode to the Bifrost with Bragi and Iðunn to head for home. It had taken a lot of convincing for her parents to not immediately follow them back to Midgard, but Eyvor and the boys had managed to stay their visit by promising to keep in touch and let them know when they could come by. 

“Ready to go?” Heimdall asked, and Eyvor gave him a smile.

“Yeah. Midgard won’t protect itself, after all.” Heimdall hummed, looking over to where Iðunn was giving Steven a tight hug.

“Midgard has its own heroes. But your reasons are your own, I think.”

“Don’t meddle, old man,” Eyvor replied, and he smiled, shaking his head at her.

“Until we meet again, Eyvor.”

“Until then, Lord Heimdall,” she said with a short bow. “Come on, solskinn! Layla’s waiting!”

“Yes, yep, just coming!” he said, hurrying over to her side while Heimdall began to open the Bifrost.

“Come home soon, dewdrop,” Bragi said, giving her a tight squeeze. 

“Yes, Father.”

“And darling,” Iðunn said as she pressed a kiss to her forehead, “next time, tell us when you’re bringing home wayward Asgardians. They’ve been the talk of the whole realm.”

Eyvor’s brain shut off for a second; it had to. 

“What?”

The roar of the Bifrost filled the air, and Steven took her hand, eager to get back to London.

“Well, darling, you didn’t have to make such a fuss about us liking them! They’re already from here!”

“They’re from Chicago!” Eyvor shouted over the noise.

“No, dewdrop!” Bragi called back in confusion. “You can’t feel it?”

“Come on, love,” Steven said, and Eyvor was pulled back into the Bifrost until they landed in the apartment, sending books and papers flying, and Layla jumped out of her seat, gun at the ready, but Eyvor was stuck reeling with what her parents had told her.

They weren’t Asgardian. She knew that. Born and raised in Chicago, Marc had told her that. Layla mentioned that his accent came out more when he was upset, but she knew that they were from Midgard. 

What were they talking about?

“Layla!” Steven said, and the woman was instantly relaxed, giving Steven a smile.

“Welcome back.” Eyvor was too lost in thought to listen to the conversation they were having. She knew they were Midgardian. Why would both of her parents insist that they were Asgardian? It wasn’t like either of them to be so certain of something and be so wrong. She would admit that all of them seemed to slip into the Asgardian way of life relatively smoothly, but Jake had spent his whole life pretending to be Steven or Marc most of the time, and Marc had been a mercenary, whose job it was to blend in until it was no longer necessary. Steven, however, had been a bit too much like a tourist to fool anyone. 

Had something actually changed and she just hadn’t noticed it?

“Eyvor!” She jerked out of her thoughts to see Layla and Marc looking at her in confusion.

“You alright?” Marc asked.

“Yeah, just thinking,” she replied, shaking herself out of the mood and smiling at Layla. “Hi. How’ve you been?”

She kept thinking about it, though, even while Layla was telling them about the things she’d gotten up to while they were gone, and while Steven excitedly told her about everything in Asgard. She was still thinking about it long after Layla left. 

“Hey,” Marc said, and she looked up from where she was watching the fish swim in their tank happily.

“Hi.”

“Kinda hungry. Think I can have an apple?”

“Oh, sure,” Eyvor said, pulling one out of her bag, but just before she handed it to him, she froze.

“Eyvor?”

“The apples,” she mumbled, clarity hitting her.

“Huh?”

“My parents said that you’re Asgardian,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out why. I know you’re not. But I figured it out. It’s the apples.”

“What about them?” Marc asked.

“They’re from Asgard, that’s why I have them. They grow in my mom’s orchard.”

“Okay?”

“In the legends, Mother’s apples are what gave the Asgardians long lives. Sort of like a fruit version of the fountain of youth, ya know? That’s not true, but they are special, at least a little bit. But I eat them all the time, and I give them to all of you pretty often.”

“You’re saying those apples made me Asgardian?”

“Only one way to find out?” Eyvor replied with a shrug. “In the suit, you and Jake never had an issue keeping up with me, and we both know I’m faster than you normally. Up for a race?”