constantly with overeager maids and the occasional male intent on pleasing them. Yet Eira the goddess held in the distance, their prize…when the time was right.
“Yes, Avarr. Just a bit longer,” Freya said as she materialized behind them.
“Damn it. I hate when you do that,” Avarr snarled.
Hall elbowed him in the gut. “Your apologies, Freya. You caught us unaware.”
Avarr bowed his head. “Goddess,” he muttered, no doubt choking on his rage. How he went day after day muting his emotions still baffled Hall, because the moment they had any privacy, Avarr exploded.
Freya laughed at them. “You’re both so very cute.” No one but Freya ever called them such. Ferocious. Brutal. Monstrous. Cute? Not so much. “So close, yet still the answer eludes you,” she mused.
“Answer?” Hall frowned. “You said we had to be ready. Nothing about questions needing answers.”
“And that’s part of your problem. You aren’t open. But you will be.”
She kept him in a state of hope. Hall was constantly trying to find the answer to getting Eira into his arms. For good. “Yes, Freya.”
“Don’t be glum, sweetness. You’re in luck. I’m feeling particularly joyful this day. We’re about to play the games again!”
“The games?”
“It’s been five hundred years. Ah, but it seems like just yesterday.”
“Uh, Freya, we’re only three hundred and eleven years old.” Yet he knew what she meant. Ludos Deorum —Games of the Gods. He’d heard about them for years, and now they’d play them again. He wondered if the stories the falcons and valkyries liked to tell were true…
In her excited enthusiasm, Freya glowed. Literally. Beaming with a soft blue nimbus that highlighted her golden hair, bountiful breasts, and lush hips, their goddess of fertility, war, and sex aroused passions like no other—with the exception of Eira. The only woman to ever turn Hall’s attention from his goddess. That had to mean something.
“Three hundred, three thousand. It all runs together without something meaty to sink our teeth into, eh?”
Avarr grunted.
“Yes. Avarr knows too well, hmm?” She winked at him, her blue eyes fathomless and frothing with power. “Now come with me, my lovely pets. I have need of you in Sessrumnir.” Her grand hall, set apart in Folkvang.
They followed her through a labyrinth of splendor. Vines and plant life in bold splashes of color edged into every aspect of Freya’s legendary palace. As the goddess of fertility, her reach extended beyond people and animals into crops and land. Mistress of procreation, of the earth itself.
As she passed, the vegetation grew thicker. Flowers bloomed, in grace and thanks to Freya’s love.
All in all, Hall was glad to worship this particular goddess. He’d heard Thor could be an asshole, and Frigg was too temperamental. No doubt dealing with Odin’s many infidelities took its toll on poor Frigg. A god could do worse than cheat though. Hall didn’t even want to think about what life with the trickster Loki must be like. His goddess, a creature entrusted with the nine worlds’ fertility, took it upon herself to heal with a carnal touch.
So why couldn’t she see how much he needed Eira?
She reached behind her and patted his arm. “My advice was not just for Avarr, dear.”
He flushed and worked harder to shield his thoughts.
They arrived in her special meeting room soon enough, but to his surprise, several gods and goddesses already filled it. Deities from multiple pantheons sat drinking, eating, and talking with good cheer around the raised dais. A cornucopia of meat, cheeses, fruits, and mead sat along the banquet, a feast fit for the most powerful of the divine.
He and Avarr exchanged a wary glance. When gods and goddesses from alternate realms put aside their differences to laugh together, an apocalypse had been known to follow. There was nothing more the gods loved to share than the fun to be had with the total annihilation of one
“Yes, Avarr. Just a bit longer,” Freya said as she materialized behind them.
“Damn it. I hate when you do that,” Avarr snarled.
Hall elbowed him in the gut. “Your apologies, Freya. You caught us unaware.”
Avarr bowed his head. “Goddess,” he muttered, no doubt choking on his rage. How he went day after day muting his emotions still baffled Hall, because the moment they had any privacy, Avarr exploded.
Freya laughed at them. “You’re both so very cute.” No one but Freya ever called them such. Ferocious. Brutal. Monstrous. Cute? Not so much. “So close, yet still the answer eludes you,” she mused.
“Answer?” Hall frowned. “You said we had to be ready. Nothing about questions needing answers.”
“And that’s part of your problem. You aren’t open. But you will be.”
She kept him in a state of hope. Hall was constantly trying to find the answer to getting Eira into his arms. For good. “Yes, Freya.”
“Don’t be glum, sweetness. You’re in luck. I’m feeling particularly joyful this day. We’re about to play the games again!”
“The games?”
“It’s been five hundred years. Ah, but it seems like just yesterday.”
“Uh, Freya, we’re only three hundred and eleven years old.” Yet he knew what she meant. Ludos Deorum —Games of the Gods. He’d heard about them for years, and now they’d play them again. He wondered if the stories the falcons and valkyries liked to tell were true…
In her excited enthusiasm, Freya glowed. Literally. Beaming with a soft blue nimbus that highlighted her golden hair, bountiful breasts, and lush hips, their goddess of fertility, war, and sex aroused passions like no other—with the exception of Eira. The only woman to ever turn Hall’s attention from his goddess. That had to mean something.
“Three hundred, three thousand. It all runs together without something meaty to sink our teeth into, eh?”
Avarr grunted.
“Yes. Avarr knows too well, hmm?” She winked at him, her blue eyes fathomless and frothing with power. “Now come with me, my lovely pets. I have need of you in Sessrumnir.” Her grand hall, set apart in Folkvang.
They followed her through a labyrinth of splendor. Vines and plant life in bold splashes of color edged into every aspect of Freya’s legendary palace. As the goddess of fertility, her reach extended beyond people and animals into crops and land. Mistress of procreation, of the earth itself.
As she passed, the vegetation grew thicker. Flowers bloomed, in grace and thanks to Freya’s love.
All in all, Hall was glad to worship this particular goddess. He’d heard Thor could be an asshole, and Frigg was too temperamental. No doubt dealing with Odin’s many infidelities took its toll on poor Frigg. A god could do worse than cheat though. Hall didn’t even want to think about what life with the trickster Loki must be like. His goddess, a creature entrusted with the nine worlds’ fertility, took it upon herself to heal with a carnal touch.
So why couldn’t she see how much he needed Eira?
She reached behind her and patted his arm. “My advice was not just for Avarr, dear.”
He flushed and worked harder to shield his thoughts.
They arrived in her special meeting room soon enough, but to his surprise, several gods and goddesses already filled it. Deities from multiple pantheons sat drinking, eating, and talking with good cheer around the raised dais. A cornucopia of meat, cheeses, fruits, and mead sat along the banquet, a feast fit for the most powerful of the divine.
He and Avarr exchanged a wary glance. When gods and goddesses from alternate realms put aside their differences to laugh together, an apocalypse had been known to follow. There was nothing more the gods loved to share than the fun to be had with the total annihilation of one
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