‘Come on, blueberries, bedtime!’ Anthony called out after closing the window shutters to shut out the freezing night air of Jotunheim and the howling of the raging storm.
‘Story first, dad,’ his little ones pleaded just like they did every night.
‘Yeah, right, as soon as you are all in bed.’
The ensuing chaos lasted for almost half an hour, but finally, everybody was nicely wrapped into their furs and eager to listen.
‘Which story do you want to hear? I haven’t got a new one today.’
‘You said there would be a fresh supply of books delivered from Vanaheim this week,’ a boy complained.
‘I know, and I’m so sorry. But that was before the blizzard. Now we’re experiencing all kinds of difficulties and have to wait a little longer.’
‘Is that why father hasn’t come home for so long?’ a girl asked, sounding worried.
‘Yes, love.’
‘Are you afraid?
‘A little, and I miss him too.’
‘Then tell us how you met him, dad.’
‘What, again?’
‘Oh, pleeeeease...’
Knowing that, with their father missing for several days now, his children would find comfort in the tale of how their little family got started, Anthony sat down and made himself comfortable in his easy chair. He put a plaid on his knees, refilled his mug with tea, and began to tell his story.
‘Once upon a time, there was a rich smith on Asgard, the Realm Eternal. His name was Howard and he had two sons, Arno and...’
‘Anthony!!!’ the children shouted gleefully, with their little blue faces flushed with excitement and their red eyes full of joy.
‘Indeed, you are right. Arno was the older one and this meant that the smithy and all the wealth of the family would go to him one day, although Anthony was clearly the more gifted of the two.’
‘Unfair,’ the youngest child complained.
‘Tsk!’ said the oldest one.
‘That’s the law on Asgard, kiddos, they don’t believe in sharing. But their father made sure both boys received a good education and both graduated with honours from the Department of Mechanical Engineering at the Royal Academy of Asgard.
Still, the brothers never really went along.
Arno was bossy by nature and Anthony wasn’t happy at the prospect of playing second fiddle to his brother for the rest of his life. Also, Arno was jealous because Anthony had a soulmark, and he had not. So Anthony decided to leave the village and joined the army as a weapon smith in the Corps of Engineers.’
Anthony stopped for a moment to drink some tea, then he continued. ‘Joining the army had another advantage for the smith: it enabled him to travel almost all realms on the branches of Yggdrasil with the exception of?’
‘Midgard and Jotunheim,’ the chorus of children answered.
‘Very good, kids. And why was that so?’
‘Because Odin All-father, the King of Asgard, had declared them off limits after the Great War.’
‘And was trying to rule all the other realms,’ a little girl added.
‘Yes, my dears. Although in polite speech, this is called, ‘showing military presence,’ explained Anthony.
The children giggled and Anthony smiled.
‘Who can tell me why Anthony wanted to travel so desperately?’ he continued.
Several children raised their arms, eager to share their knowledge.
‘Because of the soulmark,’ one said.
‘He wanted to find his soulmate,’ another chimed in.
‘Exactly!’ Anthony exclaimed. ‘Because his chance to find his chosen one while being stuck in a remote village was almost nil. And for several years, he was happy on his chosen path.
He made a name for himself, got promoted quickly, and earned a lot of money. Soon, his fortune equalled his father’s, and Anthony was able to buy some land and build a cabin at a lake. Owning land on Asgard gave him a voice in the local Thing, and the only thing that was missing in his life was his soulmate.’
Anthony sighed at the memory. ‘But, blueberries, he found something else. Do you have an idea what I'm talking about?’
‘Friendship! He found a friend!’
‘Uncle Rhodey!’
‘Yes, he found Rhodey, who was also a high-ranking officer in the army. Together, they visited many strange places and, as you all know, their friendship lasts till this day. But then, for the first time in his life, Anthony witnessed an actual war. First, the battle of Haragon and, a few decades later, the campaign against the Marauders on Vanaheim, and Anthony realised what those weapons he was designing and building did to the people they were used against.’
Anthony leaned back on his chair and fought against the images of the dying and maimed people that still haunted his mind. Again, he heard the screams of the wounded and the sobs of their families. It’s just the wind, he told himself, but he knew that this wasn’t true.
‘So he decided to leave the army,’ one of his daughters said calmly.
‘He decided to leave the army,’ Anthony echoed after a few moments and cleared his throat.
‘Anthony applied for a research job at the Department of Magic Artifacts at the Royal Academy and, because of his skills and experience, was accepted and got another raise. He was allowed to keep his military rank as an honorary title and soon earned a doctorate by identifying the magic abilities of foreign objects the army send home,' he said, recalling this exciting episode of his life. 'Sorry, kids, I need a short break. My mouth is dry from talking so much.’
The children rolled their eyes and chortled; their dad always talked a lot and was not known to let a minor impediment like a dry mouth stop him.
After helping himself to more tea, Anthony continued, ‘He was living in Glaðsheim, the main town of Asgard, now, kept his lakeside cabin as a holiday home, and would have been considered a most eligible bachelor if he hadn’t had his soulmark. And why, do you think, was that?’
‘Because of the Soulmate Law,’ a girl answered.
‘People with soulmarks are only allowed to form an intimate relationship and have children with their soulmates,’ another one elucidated.
‘You are right, my dears. The law is tough, but it makes sense. But it is also cruel, because having a soulmate doesn’t mean you will find them. Having a soulmark means having everything or nothing and to Anthony, who wasn’t young any more, the prospect started to look increasingly bleak.’
‘Dad, tell us about the dreams.’
‘Oh, those dreams,’ Anthony said softly. ‘Sometimes, his soulmark would tingle ever so faintly, especially after working on very old artefacts with unknown origin. Whenever that happened, Anthony would sleep restlessly, dreaming of snowy plains and winter storms and being caught in a drifting iceberg, able to watch the world go by but unable to escape or breath.’
‘That is terrible, dad.’
‘Yes, it is. Sometimes, he drank too much after those dreams and needed to take a day off from work to get the alcohol out of his system but, naturally, this wasn’t always possible. One day, he had to work early while still in his cups and managed to blow up his workshop.’
‘Poor Anthony,’ the children whispered.
‘Anthony got severely wounded in the chest and his scars never faded, but fortunately, nobody else got injured and no one was killed. The incident was hushed up by the academy's authorities and he wasn’t fired. Such reckless, irresponsible, and dangerous behaviour at the top level of society would always be covered up on Asgard or else the populace might start asking questions. Instead, Anthony received another promotion and another raise; he was now the Head of the Weapons Vault, also known as Odin's Trophy Room, where the All-father kept his most prized possessions and spoils of war.
And, damn it, kids, he was also completely useless.
He had to spend his days sitting at a huge gilded desk editing footnotes for catalogues in a windowless office while other, younger researchers had all the fun with the foreign magic. Sometimes, he would show distinguished scholars, visiting nobles from the countryside or illustrious guests from other realms around. Then and now, he was asked to attend a state dinner or some function at the Royal Academy, but Anthony thought his life was utterly meaningless and he felt hollow inside. He began drinking even more heavily, especially after Rhodey got married and started a family.
Anthony was lonely now and, like many lonely people, tried to convince himself that he actually preferred this state of affairs. Anyway, deep inside, he knew the truth, and, while self-medicating with schnapps in his luxurious, lonely condo near the palace, he wished for some sort of miracle to happen.
And in a way, this miracle (or at least something rather unexpected) happened.
After almost a millennium of isolation and silence, the new Jotun king, Býleistr, reached out to Asgard. His parents, the old king and queen, had retired and their parting wish was to end the hostilities between their realm and Asgard.
Býleistr was only too happy to oblige.
Starting peace talks was the young frost giant’s greatest ambition because he had watched his realm going to the dogs from childhood on. He wanted his people to play a role on Yggdrasil, the World Ash who carries the weight of all nine realms, again and restore Jotunheim to all its former glory.
At first, Odin All-father balked at the idea but his wife Queen Frigga, who was a learned lady from Vanaheim, quickly convinced him otherwise by stating that Yggdrasil not only carried the realms, but also nourished them and preferred the people of said realms to live in harmony- or else!’
After a brief pause to let the message sink in, Anthony asked, ‘I guess you’ve all heard about the lost realms?’
Awed, the children nodded.
‘Yeah, I’m glad y’all know that Yggdrasil doesn’t fuck around and has no sense of humour at all.’
‘Dad said the f-word!’ a boy stated mirthfully.
‘Never mind, just be careful when using swear words yourself. They're not always appropriate and might offend or even hurt the person you’re talking to. Now let me continue, please.
The same day, the All-father grudgingly released the snow raven who had delivered Býleistr’s message from the dungeon and send him back to Jotunheim to signal his willingness to talk.
Those were busy days for the ravens of both realms. They flew back and forth, laden with messages, and in the end it was agreed: the king would send his youngest brother, Prince...’
‘Loki!’ the children yelled with delight.
‘Ah, so you’ve heard of him?’ Anthony laughed. ‘You truly are a clever lot. Loki’s mission was to negotiate the reopening of the Jotun embassy in Glaðsheim and sealing a minor trade agreement. Not much, you might think, but it was a historical beginning.
Anthony was at the Bifrost when the prince arrived. The frost giant was about the same height as an Aesir warrior, but slender instead of bulky, with pale skin and black hair. Loki was clad in body-hugging dark leathers that showed off his elegant figure beautifully.
A nice eyeful, Anthony decided, but his mind was elsewhere. His job was to make the Weapons Vault safe for the prince’s impending sightseeing tour. There were several valuable Jotun artefacts Anthony would have to hide from Loki’s eyes and also the Destroyer, a gigantic enchanted automaton build to defend Odin’s treasures against his enemies, had to be modified.
Of course, with his history, Anthony wasn’t allowed to work on it himself although he had once helped to build it.
It was humiliating, but now he had to supervise a group of engineers and magic wielders much younger than him doing what Anthony felt was rightfully his job and, after making sure his team knew what they were doing, he withdrew to the chamber where the Casket of Ancient Winters was stored.’
Anthony interrupted himself and asked, ‘Who knows what the Casket is?’
As it turned out, all the children knew, which wasn’t surprising at all considering that Anthony had told this story at least a hundred times over the decades.
The Casket, the kids explained, was a mighty relic, the most important source of power the Jotnar ever possessed, and also very holy. Odin had taken it from them after the Great War and the giants had tried to steal it back ever since.
‘Very well, my dears, you’re all very smart,’ Anthony told them lovingly before he returned to spinning his yarn.
‘Frustrated, Anthony started to check the security protocols for the Casket’s room and had it cleaned. He even polished the relic’s pedestal himself because apparently, that was all he was good for now.
On the second day of Loki’s visit, Anthony was already sick of the prince.
The giant (who really was a shorter giant and probably the runt of the litter, Anthony thought) managed to charm everyone, and everybody was gushing over him.
So Loki, Anthony was told, had brought a wagonload of rare ice sheep wool for Queen Frigga, who loved to weave and was an acclaimed artist in the field; the prince had already earned the byname Silvertongue for his amazing way with words; he was so smart and good looking, elegant and polite, a gifted sorcerer and shapeshifter who had assumed the Aesir shape to make his hosts feel more comfortable in his presence.
Anthony was tired of having Loki shoved down his throat and also, he had had a nightmare again, one of the worst he ever had.
All Anthony wished for was the prince to be gone (for good, if possible) so he could go and spend a night at the tavern to drink himself into oblivion.’
‘Anthony, no,’ a girl exclaimed.
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, this never happened. When the hour of Loki’s tour of the Vault arrived, Anthony was sober, presentable, and ready to show his guest around.
The Jotun prince arrived in the company of Thor, the crown prince of Asgard, and his retinue of courtiers and warriors. Everybody was listening politely to Anthony’s rather dull and uninspired descriptions of priceless items like the Crown of Surtur, the Eternal Flame, and the Tesseract, but the cherry on the cake was, of course, the Casket.
For Loki, it was his first encounter with a relic he regarded as sacred and wanted to return to Jotunheim while everybody else was curious to see how he would react to the object of desire.
When the party finally entered the Casket’s chamber, Loki asked very politely if he was allowed to touch it and Thor, charmed like everybody else except Anthony, allowed it.
The moment Loki laid his hands on the Casket, his whole appearance changed: slowly, his skin turned blue and his formerly green eyes turned red. The markings of his house became visible on his face and he radiated an amount of power that left even Thor, Asgard's mightiest warrior, speechless.
And Anthony? His soulmark suddenly started to glow and for a brief, fleeting moment, he felt like he was was on fire. The shock made him go down on his knees while he heard somebody behind him complaining about him being probably drunk again and being a disgrace to Asgard.’
‘And what did Loki do?’ a boy asked.
‘He dropped the Casket, sank down next to Anthony, and took him into his arms while whispering words of comfort and endearment.’
‘They were soulmates!’ the children announced with joy.
‘Oh yes, they were. The reason they hadn’t noticed before was that Loki had shapeshifted into an Aesir skin which dampened his soulmark’s energy.
The whole affair kind of simplified the negotiations between Jotunheim and Asgard. Because once the Soulmate Law was invoked, there was no way back, and even Odin All-father, the greatest king the Realm Eternal has ever seen, had to bow to the will of Yggdrasil.’
‘The World Ash has no sense of humour whatsoever!’ an exited kid shouted.
‘Remember the lost realms,’ another one whispered.
‘You are right,’ Anthony confirmed. ‘Soulmates belong together and Yggdrasil has no patience for people who are trying to separate them. And as soon as Odin had granted Anthony permission to move to Jotunheim, other people who hadn’t found their soulmate started to wonder if their chosen one might be a frost giant as well.
Suddenly, there was a need for a Jotun embassy because many lonely people wanted to travel to the realm to see for themselves, especially after Loki reminded them in a public speech that Bestla, Odin’s mother and your great-aunt, had been a Jotun and a soulmate, too.'
Anthony paused for a moment to take a look at the timepiece on the windowsill. A little girl yawned, politely covering her mouth with her hand. 'But it's getting late,' Anthony said, 'and I notice that some of you are looking very sleepy already. Shall we call it a night? You all know how the story ends.’
‘Yes, please, I’m tired,’ the youngest child confessed and the other kids agreed, thanking their dad for the tale and wishing him a good night.
‘Good night to you too, blueberries,’ Anthony said as he turned off the light. ‘Remember, I love you, and so does your father.’
Instead of going straight to bed, Anthony went downstairs and put on the kettle to brew more tea.
He knew there was no sleep for him tonight, not with his soulmate travelling abroad while a devastating blizzard was hitting the realm.
Fuck, Anthony thought while fondling the fresh mug of fragrant tea in front of him because he needed the warmth. He could even hear an avalanche thundering down the nearest mountain and just hoped that everybody in the valley was save.
But he already knew the Jotnar were strong, resilient, and hard to kill. How else could they survive in a place like this?
They had evolved in a hostile environment exposed to all sorts of hardships and Anthony even remembered watching a frost giant recovering from a broken neck and a crushed windpipe after being trapped under a thick layer of stones and snow for hours.
The Jotnar were a truly remarkable people and Anthony, who had followed Loki into Jotunheim without any qualms, had learned to love them.
Slowly, while recalling his fondest memories of Loki's and his life together, Anthony dozed off against his will and woke up to the gentle touch of large blue hands on his shoulders.
‘Tony, my love, I’m back,’ Loki whispered, calling his soulmate by a private pet name nobody else used.
‘Lokes,’ Anthony responded drowsily. ‘You back? Are you well? We all missed you.’
‘I’m back, and I am fine. I even managed to bring the books you wanted with me.’ Loki answered. ‘And how are you?’
‘Doing fine, and so are the blueberries. They asked about you. Told them a bedtime story.’
‘You’re the best dad,’ Loki said.
‘And you’re the best father,’ Anthony replied and smiled at his chosen one.
Arm in arm, the soulmates went upstairs. After making sure the children were fast asleep, they went to bed themselves and Loki entertained Anthony with the news of Odin’s latest attempt at undermining the developing relationship between the Aesir and the Jotnar.
‘Idiot tried to mess with the Bifrost this time,’ Loki huffed. ‘Fortunately, there was only some minor damage and no one was killed or injured as far as we know, but that's what caused this blasted blizzard. The All-father is like a dog with a bone.’
‘Yeah, he’ll never let go.’
‘I have a good mind to tell the Aesir that some Midgardians have soulmarks, too.’
‘You evil, evil prince,’ Tony said. ‘People will want to travel to Midgard then.’
‘That is the idea.’
'And, of course, this would drive Odin insane.'
Instead of a response, Loki only winked at his chosen one with a mischievous gleam in his bright red eyes.
Anthony looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Thor hasn’t found his soulmate yet.’
‘Indeed. And one is so tired of having him snoop around the neighbourhood, always ending up at one’s kitchen table, complaining and eating one’s groceries.’
‘So true, my dear.’ Chuckling, Anthony turned off the light and when he finally fell asleep, his brain had already turned the latest events into a fresh story to tell the blueberries at night.