Skegga's Edda Chapter 15 - The Fire Crown

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The Kindling of the Fire Crown

Loki had tired of life in Battlehall.  Odin appeared intent on seducing half the maids of Middle Garth and had not been seen now for nearly three seasons.  Hoenir was still in Vanhome, Mimir griped and complained from Odin's high seat and Tyr spent most of his time at Saga's secluded hall.  With hardly anyone left to fuss over, Mother Bestla had turned her kindly attentions to Loki and Hermod.  Loki had taken as much grooming advice and fussing as he could bear.  
The Trickster unrolled his new falcon feather cloak, a recent gift from Freya. He smiled remembering her offer to teach him the spellcraft of the Vanfolk, a gift he had gratefully accepted. Afterwards it had been highly questionable who had learnt most from the meeting of two skilled minds, gifted in similar but subtly different ways. Loki threw the feather cloak around his shoulders and leapt into the air in a falcon's guise.
Delighting in the freedom of flight he swooped low over the fens of Godhome. The handmaidens resting on the sun dappled sward at Fenbank scolded him as he snatched counters from their gaming board with his claws and dropped them in the thick rush beds. Over Thor's lands Loki flew more respectfully:  the Thunderer might be away but Loki did not wish to incur the anger of Earth's formidable son.  He circled and made his way to the newly established garth of Folkfield and Freya's own residence.
The Osfolk were still working on the finishing touches of the hall and the beautifully carved and painted barge boards were being raised. Loki found Freya watching the workers and swooped down beside her. He let the feather cloak slip back revealing his true form, and looked up at the towering walls graced with carved birds, boars and stags heads. 'I thought you might like a break' he said with a wink.
'I'm busy' Freya muttered her thoughts elsewhere.
'Not even a drink then?' Loki pressed, his disappointment obvious.
'No, if it is a drinking partner you are wanting you could try Heimdall. He is having a bit of a celebration.'
'Heimdall? Revelling? Never! He's always too busy playing watchman.'
'Not anymore, since I taught him the seeing magic. Now he can keep his minds eye on our enemies and his real eyes on his mead horn and a good woman or two. He is making up for lost time.  You should find him better company than he was before.'
'Well that is good news' said Loki happily, he gave Freya a playful hug.  'But I would still rather stay with you.'
'You never give up do you Loki?' Freya scolded.
'No'.
'Then maybe I will indulge you soon, but it will cost you. You will have to do me a favour.'
'Anything' Loki grinned.
'I earned the lands here in return for teaching magic to the Osfolk of Godhome.    I have yet to complete this task and I want that payment to be made in full before my hall is completed.  One of the Osfolk is less than keen, if you persuade them to come and learn I will give you what you want.'
'No problem' Loki boasted.
'Then bring Os Thor to my witching bower.' Freya laughed and turned her back on Loki, who cursed under his breath.
'That is hardly fair.  Thor is still in the Outlands' Loki called after her.
'No, he has returned, so go and earn your fun.'
Loki swore loudly.

Loki wasted no time in searching out Thor, reverting to his falcon form he sped straight back over the fields to Stormbright Hall. In the alehall he was greeted by Thor's housekeeper Sigyn who directed the Trickster towards the stables.  There he found the thundergod busily polishing the bronze panels on his chariot. 'Wassail to you' said Loki cautiously.  Thor grunted an acknowledgment, intent on attacking a particularly stubborn stain of troll blood. Sharp sand and vinegar had failed to shift it and the thundergod had decided to try stubborn determination instead.

Loki stepped forward to inspect Thor's handiwork, 'There is an easier way than that.'
Thor scowled and tossed his polishing cloth aside, it was now smoking. He looked up at the Trickster 'What way?' he asked.
Loki closed his eyes and mumbled a chant under his breath. Thor stared at the now perfect gleaming bronze, he could see his face reflected in it. 'Not quite what I had in mind' Thor groaned.
'But you wanted it clean didn't you?'
'That was too easy, I was enjoying the challenge.'
'Enjoying?' Loki scoffed.  'You were really losing your temper!'
Thor sighed, 'It's not a challenge if it's not difficult. Now what I am going to do with my time?'
Loki laughed 'What any god should be doing when relaxing at home, making love to a beautiful woman.'
'You may have a point there' agreed Thor with a thoughtful smile.
'That's the spirit.'
'So, which particular woman were you thinking of? One of Frigga's pretty handmaidens?  A playful maiden from Middle Garth? A wild insatiable ettinwife?'
Loki pretended to consider and said 'A fine fellow like you? You should have the very best!'
'Who?'
'Freya' Loki whispered.
Thor sighed 'In case you have forgotten, Freya is my sister.'
'Half sister.'
'That makes no difference, the Osfolk don't bed close kin.'
'So I have heard' Loki agreed grinning. 'So says a man whose father is also his uncle, and his mother is also his grandmother.'
'That is unfair.'
'Its true though, stop hiding from it.  You don't live in Middle Garth, I know you grew up there but you don't need to live by their rules.'
'It would be hopeless anyway.  She has been on at me to learn her poxed witchcraft,  I don't need to tell you I have no interest in that.'
'That's a shame.' Loki sighed 'She does want you, I am sure of it.'
'Really?' muttered Thor.
'Yes, and can you imagine anything more desirable than a tumble with Freya?' Loki did not have to pretend to look wistful.
'I can imagine where that would lead, no spell-craft, no fun. I would be better off with a trollwife' Thor said sulkily.
'Oh, give her a chance, she just wants you to be worthy of her.'
'Worthy?' Thor retorted loudly, making Loki jump. 'Of course I am worthy of her!' The Thunderer snatched up a spare axle beam and snapped as if it was a twig.
'So that is the measure of worthiness,' mocked Loki, 'that you could break the poor woman in half? Have you not considered that she might want you to match her mind?'
'I am knowledgeable enough in a god's skills' Thor growled.
'Oh magic has its uses. You must confess it is a great help in keeping your wain shiny. And then....' Loki magically conjured an image of the Vanwife forcing Thor to view the exquisite curves he was desperately trying to block from his mind.
Increasingly suspicious Thor demanded 'Why are you suggesting this anyway? What have you got to gain?'
Loki shrugged smiling.
'Out with it!' Thor pressed.
'Er well,' Loki replied, 'we have the same problem, until you allow Freya to teach you the magical arts, she won't sleep with you and she won't sleep with me.'
'Aha! So you have your own interests at heart, that makes far more sense. So if I were to go through this unmanly charade, for your benefit, what will you give me?'
'Are you crazy? You will get Freya!'
Thor pressed mercilessly, 'So will you.'
Loki thought quickly, he had underestimated Thor badly, 'I could offer you my friendship.'
'Don't I already have that?'
'You drive a hard bargain' Loki sighed.  'Then I could offer you a blood brotherhood.'
Thor laughed 'You want her badly don't you.' He laid a hand on the Trickster's shoulder 'I don't want any friendship tied by an oath, I want it offered freely or not at all.'
'Very well then.' Loki grinned.
'I don't promise anything,' Thor cautioned 'but I will go to Folkfield.'

Thor made his way not to Freya's hall but to the Great Ash to speak to his sisters.  Sybil greeted him warmly and offered to scry the Wyrd loom for him.  'What troubles you?' she asked.
'A few spans ago I spent a tide with an ettinwife called Grid.  She enjoys my company and I enjoy hers so I visit her cottage when I am passing her way.  She said something that made me most uneasy.  She said I caused her to remember how happy her mother used to be when she received a visitor from distant parts.  A man who treated Grid very kindly as a child and brought her gifts.  She showed me one that she had treasured:  it was a small statue, so finely wrought that I have only seen its like once, in the golden chessmen that once belonged to your father.  I asked the name of the gift-giver:  he was called Perun.  I have been blind, that storm-eyed, red-haired ettinwife is my sister.'

As he spoke Sybil had teased out the threads on the loom to find the ettinwife, 'Well no harm has been done there' she said.  'You should keep visiting her.  We need friends in the Outlands.  Is that all that troubles you?'
'No, that chance happening led me to think of Freya.  I confess I am drawn to her, sister or not, but  I would have your council.  Would ill come from such a mating?'
Sybil waited as the threads on the loom tangled into new patterns at his words.  She gasped.
'What's wrong?'
The Norn hushed him and looked intently at the threads, it was a while before she met his gaze.  'There are four strands to each life thread: health, joy, worth and luck.  All are interlinked, for joy brings health, worth brings luck and so on.  All I will tell you, is that if you bed Freya, it will greatly increase your luck.  Go to her brother, it is woven.'
Thor hugged her fondly and made to leave.  Sybil watched him walk through the mists back into godhome, and shook her head in wonder at her own lifethread, which now gleamed like gold where it hung beneath the loom.

After a hasty bath and a hunt for clothes that were not too battered from his adventuring, Thor made his way to Folkfield.  The garth had a high hedge about its gardens to protect the Osfolks' eyes from the lusty behaviour of the Vans.  The stout gate had a carving of rearing rutting boars, clearly the work of Meilli.
Jord's son pushed open the gate in some dread at what he would find within, but the gardens were quiet and peaceful.  The air was thick with the scent of honeysuckle and he walked the timber path to the hall's door.  Beyla greeted him, as soberly dressed as he had ever seen her, and she pushed an ale horn into his hands.  This was not what he had expected.  'Ale?' he asked confused.
'Yes ale.  Is that not the custom in Godhome?'
'Yes it is. Thank you.'
He drank the offered drink down and Beyla led him through the fine new hall to the spell chamber beyond.  Freya was also gowned in the manner of the Oswives of Godhome.  She sat on the chamber's outer bench with a baby girl-child at her breast.  She smiled in welcome at the Thunderer 'Welcome home Os Thor.  Come and meet your new kinswoman.'
'Your daughter?'
'Indeed, mine and Meilli's.  I named her Blyth.  Odin has been busy wooing women in Middle Garth to bred him battle goddesses, so I thought Hlin Gna and Skuld will need some help to watch over the peace loving folk.'
'Then Meilli is a good choice for a father' said Thor, smiling.
'Indeed.  I am glad you are here, for I fear I have been a poor sister to you.  Since peace was agreed I have spoken many times to my father.  I have tried to understand how the Osfolk and Vans are so different.  He told me a tale of how he visited your mother soon after your birth.  He said he was greatly shocked to see how she had changed.  How she had wrapped herself in heavy clothes to hide her beauty.  It made me realise that such a shock could work both ways.  I confess that when I learned you were my brother I thought of you as a Van, not realising that living in Middle Garth would mould you in a very different way.  I have driven you away from your home, and caused you pain by flaunting my flesh before you.  I beg your pardon.'
'Maybe I am more Van than you know' Thor admitted, and laughed with relief at her kindness.  'But tell me, what tale did your father tell of my childhood, I do not recall his visit.'
'I will happily pass on his words.  After his kin had fought, burning and flooding the lands of men, Father Njord took a small boat and sailed away far out into the open sea.  He was deeply grieved and had no wish to live.  He let the boat drift unguided into the deep ocean.  He ate and drank nothing for span after span until, despite his holy blood, he was close to death.  Finally he saw a sign, a floating lily drifting past his boat, as fresh and bright as if rooted on an inland lake.  He turned, for the first time, back towards the lands of men, and saw a path of flowers leading back across the open sea.  He raised a flower with shaking hands and ate of the petals and slowly his strength returned.  He turned his boat, called the wind into the sail and made his way back to Middle Garth.  

'He followed the path of flowers dreading what he would see when he reached the land.  But many tides had passed and the land was green again and pleasant to behold.  The flowers marked a path inland and he followed them, until he came to a sheltered inland valley where he found the cottage of your childhood.  He was surprised to see so humble a stead, as the Osfolk had lived before in soaring towers and palaces.  But he hurried forward, forgetting the past in his loneliness and need for his wife's embrace.  He pushed open the low door and the sight within caused his heart to sink.  Oh Thor how can I explain?  Do you remember how we appeared to you when we faced you at Godhome's gate, naked, lusty and dangerous?  That is how Mother Nerthus had always been, flaunting her body to invoke desire and loyalty in her allies and desperate longing in her enemies.  And to see her swathed in a heavy gown with her beautiful red-gold hair hidden in a scarf, Father Njord knew that the Oswife he loved was no more.

'Yet there was another surprise for Father Njord to bear.  In front of the hearth was a row of eight cribs, seven holding one babe and one holding two.  Mother Nerthus gave him food and good ale and waited until he was done, and then she spoke.  "Dear loyal Njord, I am glad to see you for I have a task for you.  These are the children of my three husbands.  Six are the children of wise Fjorgynn.  I have bound their might to the path of Wyrd, so that our kin will never again to blind to the cost of their deeds.  The pair in one cradle, they are your children, I have named them Frey and Freya, I have fettered their thew so their power will lie in spell-craft alone.  I will teach Fiorgynn's daughters for I cannot teach them ill, they will see any error for themselves.  Will you take your own children?  Take them to Elfhome:  let them enjoy the best of our lives before, free in lust beneath the trees.  But make them wiser as to the weight of their tread upon the Wyrd.''  
'Father Njord agreed readily, and was in part reassured at her words and glad that she had fettered her children's power with such care.  She pushed the crib with the two infants into his arms and led him out of the door.  But Father Njord is no fool, he knew that two and six do not make nine.  He asked of the child of which she had not spoken.  "The last is Perun's son" Jord admitted.  She offered no more and Father Njord feared that this child's strength had not been fettered in any way.
"Oh dearest Mother, dearest Wife, let me take Perun's child with me to the peaceful woods of Elfhome.  Seven children would tax anyone, let me ease your burden."

'Mother Jord could see the path of his thoughts and begged him to leave her one man-child in her household, to remember the loves she had lost.  She wept and his love won over his fears.  He has often wondered if he did right that day.  Why Thor, if he had persisted, you would truly be a Van.'
'A sobering thought' Thor agreed.  'But why should I cause such concern?'
'It is clear that you have your mother's strength of thew.  Father Njord feared that you might also have her strength of mind.  Mother's strength in dragon form near destroyed the Nine Worlds and killed two Os of great power.  That is why he is wary.'
'But surely if I had her spell-power I would know, it is now many tides since our birth.'
'Indeed, I am sure your strength is fettered the same as the rest of your siblings.  Only by working together can we match her strength, a useful safe-guard.'

Still deeply touched by his sister's loving apology, Thor spoke of his visit to the ettinwife Grid and his words with the Norn Sybil.  Startled, Freya called for Beyla and passed her the sleeping child.  She looked on her half-brother as if seeing him for the first time and said: 'Oh poor Thor, your mind must be exhausted, let us lay that one ghost to rest.  Then you will think on your spell-craft all the clearer.'  Laughing she pulled him up the stairs to her bed.
Beyla prepared a fine breakfast for Folkfield's guest that so delighted Thor that he almost forgot the reason for his visit.  No longer fearing of upsetting her brother, Freya was wearing a thin white gown that hid nothing of her charms.   When Thor's hunger was sated Freya raised the other matter he had been dreading.  'I do not know what spells I can teach you.  Our Mother shared out our skills with great caution.  The Vanfolk have little strength of thew but can work difficult spells with little effort.  The Norns are bound to the paths of Wyrd, and have little strength left for spellcraft.  In you I would guess your power lies almost entirely in strength of thew, though I hope I can teach you a little to keep you safe from the trollwives.  Would you let me look at the paths of your mind?  I promise to be gentle this time.'
Thor winced remembering the Vanwife's mindbolt but submitted to her.  She lay her hands on his head and sent her spirit gently within.  Freya felt warmth, tasted it and smelt it, the feel of power was almost overwhelming to her.  She felt her father's fear, that their mother had left her terrible strength full force in Perun's son.  But then she noticed that the strength was not unchecked.  She felt a wall within his mind, a deliberate barrier blocking much of Thor's potential.  Freya withdrew, breathing heavily;  the room felt cold about her.  'Well?' asked Thor smiling, grateful that she hadn't hurt him.
'I have never looked into Mother's mind but I would guess that yours is similar.  Though I am glad to say that she has fettered your strength.  So I will assume that your ability in spellcraft will be limited like that of the Norns.  All your sisters have mastered the use of the seeing-spell, the ability to look into other worlds.  I think you will find that diverting and useful.  Come let us see if you have the talent.'  She led him into the spell-chamber.
The Vanwife smiled and led the thundergod to her new high seat, a riot of Meilli's finest carving.  Thor hesitated at its steps as if relishing his ignorance of the magical arts, then resignedly climbed the delicate steps and sat on the seat's soft cushions. Freya climbed up beside him and to his surprise urged him to remove his tunic. She sat behind him her legs pressing close on either side, and her breasts warm on his naked back. Thor's misgivings melted away.
'This seat is my watching tower,' said Freya 'it represents the great World Tree. Here we can imagine that we sit within its branches, like the far sighted eagle, and see to every corner of the Nine Worlds. As the tree has roots so does the highseat have pillars, one represents the Outlands, one the Underworld, and one the lands of Middle Garth. And now that I dwell among the Osfolk I have added a fourth for Elfhome. Each pillar bears runic verses describing the Garths, and each is made of timber taken from that world. The platform is not necessary to see beyond Godhome's walls, but it allows such magic to be worked with far less effort. Following me so far?' Thor nodded and the Vanwife continued.
'As in all things it is better to learn by doing. Your sisters strove a full season to learn this art so I will lead our first journey, and I hope you will see that their efforts were worthwhile.  Try and relax.' Freya gently massaged Thor's shoulders and gently eased her thoughts into his mind and guided his thoughts into hers.  Through her thoughts they shared the calm that allows the soul to fly free of the lich.  The room became cloudy and indistinct. Folkfield Hall faded away and they seemed to be floating high above Middle Garth, with the mountains of the Outlands just visible in the distance.  'I have a ward I need to watch over' Freya explained.  The image of Middle Garth came nearer until Thor could make out the individual trees and grazing beasts. The fields of men sped below them as if they rode on the back of a soaring bird. Freya focused on a settlement with a large communal roundhouse surrounded by outbuildings and cattle pens and ringed with a high embankment. The roundhouse roof offered no resistance and they could see a feast in progress below them, the walls and roof tree were decked out with greenery and the celebration was clearly a wedding.
'Can we be seen?' asked Thor.
'No' freya replied. 'We are here only in spirit. It is possible to use the platform to move by way-spell to another Garth but that takes a great deal of skill and, as you know, only the greatest of the Vanfolk can master it.  Maybe if you do well now I will try and teach you that some other time.'
'Which is your ward?' asked Thor.
'The bride,' replied Freya.  'Observe and know her'. The young woman sat in her wedding finery, a dress of red wool embroidered with spirals at the hems, jewellery of amber and crudely beaten sheets of gold, her hair and face hidden by a veil. Thor could see her clearly but slightly distorted as if through thick glass, and he could sense more than her appearance. Her thoughts also came to him clearly: she was very young, barely a woman, a confusion of joy, pride and a consuming nervousness spilled from her.

'Good' said Freya encouragingly 'and now the bridegroom.'  Several seats away the bridegroom sat drinking heavily, laughing and swapping crude jokes with his fellows. His thoughts struggled through a haze of ale, but his lust was strong and demanding. 'Well?' asked Freya.
'She's a maiden, and he is too drunk to care.'
'Indeed, let us look out for her.'

The feast was over, the last platters cleared away and young men were chanting for the newlyweds to take their leave. The bridegroom heaved himself upright, swaying slightly he walked around the trestle, tugged the girl roughly behind him, and made for the curtained sleeping area down one side of the roundhouse. Freya smiled as Thor willed their vision after the couple.  He could sense the growing terror in the young woman and, filled with compassion, had not realised that he had taken control of the seeing-spell. The bridegroom tore the veil from her head and kissed her roughly.
'What can we do?' whispered Thor.
'Help her find passion' Freya replied 'use your mind to soothe and delight her.'

The bridegroom hauled the dress from her shoulders, the girl backed away sobbing now in fear. Her terror was like a rearing beast, Thor embraced it with his own thoughts willing her to be calm. Gradually the weeping subsided, the bridegroom reached forward to clasp her barely budding breasts. Thor filled her mind with thoughts of pleasure, awakening her body as if with a tender caress, and heard her gasp of delight a moment before the drunken hands grasped her exposed flesh.
'Very good' laughed Freya. 'I think you have a natural gift in the witchman's art'. The vision had gone and Thor could only see the walls of Freya's chamber. 'So do you think you could use your new found skill?'
'I don't know,' Thor replied 'I still don't think a god should practice magic.'
'Oh Thor!' Freya teased him 'after what you have just done for that girl, do you still think magic is unmanly?'
'Er, well, maybe not that part.'
The Vanwife pushed Thor onto his back, pulled off her gown and sat aside him. 'Now!' cried the goddess. 'Let's see just how unmanly I have made you.'

Eventually, and after no short length of time, sated of the pleasures of the lich, they decided to continue Thor's training. Freya suggested that the Thunderer should try to make a journey of his own without her assistance. 'What would you like to see?' she asked.
Thor considered, 'The outlands I suppose, then I can see what the ettinfolk are up to.'
'Not very original' laughed Freya 'but very practical.'
She settled herself once more behind him on the cushions of the high seat. 'Lead the way,' she said.
'What? I don't know how.'
'Try,' said Freya.  'Close your eyes and think of a place you know very well and will yourself there.'

Thor concentrated, closing his eyes to block out the sights of Folkfield Hall, he considered the desolate wilderness of the Outlands. He remembered the ettinwife Gjalp who lived on the stony road far to the east. Thor had befriended her and often stopped to rest at her cottage when he passed that way. He remembered tiny details of Gjalp's dwelling, the dry stone walls stuffed with moss, the log roof with its soot dusted cobwebs, her fishpond. He recalled sitting with her helping catch fish for supper and the ettinwife's infectious laugh when he splashed her with water.
With the place firmly in his mind Thor felt the spell take hold and opened his eyes to see the landscape of the nearer Outlands rushing below him. It took longer than before, but the far Outland border was much further from the gods' Garth. And there was the cottage, Gjalp was stooped over the stream beating her washing.
'Can I talk to her?' Thor asked Freya.
'You can, but she will hear you speak with her mind rather than her ears. Never try this with a mortal unless they are asleep, otherwise they tend to get overexcited.'
Thor sent a greeting to Gjalp. The ettinwife, wise in magic herself smiled.  'Wassail my dear Thor' she said.  'Well, what is Godhome coming to if you are dabbling in the female arts!'
'That's enough of that', Thor replied indignantly.  'How are you faring?'
'All is well for me, all is not well in Middle Garth.'
'How so?'
Gjalp sighed 'Lut made his way west three waking spans ago, he had a hunger for mortal blood and I am sure he has found some by now.'

Lut's name was known to the Thunderer, the monster had enough troll blood in his veins to give him a hunger for manflesh.  Thor acknowledged the news with some choice swear words and willed the vision back towards Middle Garth, following the shattered trees marking the ettin's wake. They crossed into Manhome and the smoke of burnt out houses and discarded human bones marked the trail. At the next settlement the fires of destruction were newly lit and the air was rent with the screams of human suffering. Lut towered over the carnage, his form hideous. The ettin had nine heads, each one uglier than the next, and four arms dangling from his humped back. He was gloating over four women that he had bound to the broken stump of a tree. Two men struggled helplessly in his talon like hands. 'Don't worry my pretties' growled one of Lut's heads, dribble pouring between its tusks. 'I wont eat you yet a while, not until after I get to play with you.' Lut casually raised a screaming man and bit a great chunk out of his thigh. Another arm reached out with extended craw to tear away a woman's clothing.
Acting on instinct and driven by a boiling rage Thor leapt from the high seat, and howled his challenge at the ettin.  Lut barely had time to register surprise at the Thunderer's sudden appearance before Thor grabbed the arm holding the injured man and tore it from the ettin's body. Lut screamed in pain, and screamed even louder as the other arm clasping a captive was also ripped away. The ettin staggered back, blood pouring from the ragged stumps where his limbs had been.  Weak from blood loss he sank to his knees. 'I thought I told you to keep your filthy lich out of Middle Garth!' shouted the enraged Os.  Lut spat defiantly, Thor advanced for the kill, anger giving his eyes the glow of laver and his brow flickered with flames.  He grabbed Lut's remaining arms, planted his foot on the dying ettin's chest and pulled, Lut's abused body fell into a deepening pool of his own blood.
For a moment Freya had stared in shock, then she gathered her scattered wits, whispered a hurried chant, gathered her power and leapt after her brother.  Freya ran to the aid of the injured man, but his wound was too severe even for her healing arts and he pleaded for her to let him die so that he would not burden the womenfolk. The Vanwife wept at the tragedy and her golden tears settled on the stranger she would never know. Thor released the women from their bonds and was instantly embraced by relieved, sobbing farmwives.
'Comfort them' said Freya.  'Let them have one happy memory of this terrible time. I will wait for you on the high seat, call me when you are done and I will bring you home.

With the farmfolk safe asleep and the ettin's lich dragged far from their steading, Thor called out to the Vanwife and they worked the way-spell together to bring him back to Folkfield Hall.  Freya regarded her half-brother with concern, his gaze had returned to its calm stormy blue but a spark of fire remained in its depths.  In the gloom of the spell-chamber his brow flicked with unearthly fire.  
'Your head is glowing'  Freya told him.  
'Glowing?  Should it be?'
'Its your mind-strength, you are much stronger than I thought.  For good or ill we have awoken it.  They will fear you.'
Thor brushed his hands about his hair and felt the unfamiliar warmth there and shared her worry 'Who will fear me?'
'Everyone.'
'Including you?  Oh Freya, I would never harm you.'  he pulled her into his arms.  'I made a promise to Mother Jord and I make the same promise to you, I will never let darkness take me.  There.'  He forced a smile 'Is that better?'
Freya regarded him again, the strange glow was gone, though standing so close she knew the power had not diminished and could feel the heat of his presence against her skin.  'Oh Thor, you can work shapechanging too?'  she realised she was staring and lowered her gaze.  'This happening has thrown both of us' she admitted.  'Go and rest your mind with women or ale and we will meet again in the next waking span.  My mind aches in confusion and I am sure yours does too.'

Thor took his leave from Folkfield willingly.  For a long while he sat alone in his chambers at Stormbright Hall, deeply concerned about his new found strength.  He could feel it simmering in his soul, ready to lash out at any gentle urging.  He sat on his bed and rested his gaze on the gold chessmen that stood on a cupboard of Meilli's carving.  All too easily could he see himself following his mother's destructive path, using his terrible strength against his own family in a moment of rage.  It had already happened, thanks to Gullveig's wicked spells, and now the consequences would be so much worse.  Freya spoke truly that some would fear him, Njord it seemed already did.  

He felt the need for comfort and made his way down the many steps to Sigyn's door.  Sigyn listened and, as he had so desperately hoped, accepted his new strength without fear.  She asked him to drop his disguise and show her the strange glow that had so alarmed Freya.  He did so and she cried out with delight 'It so becomes you, your hair now glitters like gold.'  She ran to fetch her dressing mirror and held it up before him.
'I look like some fiend from Muspell' Thor wailed.
Sigyn shook her head at him 'It's a crown for the chief of the Osfolk.'
'All the more reason to hide it.'
'Well I like it' Sigyn declared stubbornly 'and I promise you when Meilli sees you thus he will want to weave your image or carve you.'
Thor swore foully at that threat, but her reassuring words had greatly eased his mind.  She hugged him tightly nestling her head beneath his hairy chin, and said 'I can feel your power here like the warmth of a hearth, I have never felt so safe.'
Sigyn drew him to her bed and held him until his troubled mind found sleep.

After a quick but hearty breakfast Thor returned to Folkfield.  Freya was glad to see him well rested and after hugging him fondly pressed on with his lessons.  'Now we need to make sure you won't be worried by any more mind-spears, like the one that felled you at the gate.  This should be easy after what you achieved in the last span.  Think up a wall of iron about your mind and the spell won't touch you.'
Thor did as he was bid.
'Ready?  I will use the same spell as before.'
The mind-wall felt strong but his memory of Freya's attack made him nervous;  he chewed his lip and nodded.  Freya chanted and focused her strength and let fly, then staggered back, gasping.
'Are you all right?' asked thor concerned.
'You did well, that was like running into a cliff face.  Did you feel anything?'
'I felt a strange shiver when you were chanting and a slight nudge when you cast your spell.'  Thor grinned:  he could keep the Vanfolk out of his head.  After Gullveig's tricks that felt good.
Freya swallowed her indignation that the powerful spell had been so little felt.  'The shiver, have you felt it before?'
'Sometimes, when people come up behind me unexpected, and before you attacked me the first time.'
'You are feeling the tug of the Wyrd threads when you might be in danger, that is a rare skill and most useful.  You know what to do now:  raise a shield with your mind.  If the danger might be from thew you can weave a larger shield out of spellcraft.  You can shield buildings and farms but the larger the shield the more strength it will cost you.  Your second-sight has saved us a lot of work, for the Osfolk must be able to call you when they are in danger.    It is better to keep your mind open as much as you can.'

Freya completed his lessons by teaching him shape-changing, a skill he had already made use of to conceal the signs of his powers.  Under her guidance he easily took the form of an eagle and a bear.  She was deeply envious that he could make the changes with little effort.
She regarded him fondly and said, 'I know a thousand spells of lesser note, but you have achieved the greatest skills with so little work, I don't think you need to learn them.  So go and put my thinking to the test.  Warm your bath water with a wish and light your hearth with a thought.  Weave a way between your hall and the Hel-road for your people to tread. Your mother built a bridge through heaven, I think with effort you could achieve equal wonders.  Your learning from me is done, my friend.  Now you must teach yourself.'
'Have I earned your favour?'
'Of course.  You need to ask?'
'Good.' he swept the Vanwife up into his arms and carried her up to her bed.

Notes:
Although this tale is new most of the fragments within it are drawn from ancient lore.

Freya is said to have taught spellcraft to all the gods of the Osfolk – that includes Thor.

Travel seems to be a problem for the gods, in the myths they ride horses through the sky or change into birds.  Journeying from one Garth to another clearly takes hours or even days.  The one exception is Thor who can somehow travel back to Godhome in an instant during an emergency.  He can also hear when he is needed even when riding in the furthest Outlands.  In this version of the tales this talent is shared with the Van gods Njord, Frey and Freya.

Thor does employ shapechanging spells in the tale of his fishing for the World Serpent, where he takes the forms of both a boy and a giant.  Symbols of Thor often incorporate bird heads that may be a forgotten animal aspect of the god, most likely the eagle that is connected to thunder and lightning in many cultures.  One of his nicknames, Bear,  may also point to a forgotten animal form.

Thor's control over the weather and land fertility (as confirmed by Adam of Bremen) can only be explained by magical ability.  His very name means 'thunder' so it would appear that he was born to be a thundergod, and is not totally reliant on chance treasures obtained in later life.  He was also the main god invoked for hallowing ceremonies and sacred artefacts.

Thor's odd appearance is also traditional.  Most sources give Thor red hair, a colour associated with magic and sanctity, hence the use of red caps, rowan berries and red yarn in folk charms.  Many depictions of Thor made between the seventeenth century and circa 1900 show the god with a crown of flames, a halo of stars or a combination of the two.  Where this imagery derives from is not clear.  One single Eddic reference says that he has hair more beautiful than gold which might possibly be a reference this phenomenon.   That his eyes blaze with fire when he is angry is mentioned in several myths.  The idea that there is a slight hint of fire in his eyes when he is calm is my addition.

The fire crown may derive from Thor's elevation among the gods by the common people who loved him best.  For them Thor was the most powerful, most dependable, most noble and one of the wisest of the gods and goddesses (1), but sufficiently down to earth to be likeable.  A total contrast to the scheming, ambitious, untrustworthy Odin.

Lutt is recorded as one of the ettins killed by Thor in the Thulur, the Eddic list of poetic kennings. No description is given for the ettin or his demise but his name means 'stooped';  similar mutant ettins are described in the sagas.

In the interests of continuity, Freya's powers are shown to be less than they are after the Brisingamen story.

1: see Magnus Magnusson's 'Hammer of the North' if you think I am raving, he agrees.
© 2013 - 2024 Thorskegga
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