Page 93 of Between Broomsticks and Beating Wings
He let out a sigh, jaw clicking as his gaze hopped from Freyja to Rune to me. “This is your mess, Freyja; do with them what you will. As their new goddess, their fate is in your hands, but I won’t forget what you’ve done here today. There will come a time when you’ll pay dearly for taking what was once mine.” Odin shook his head in disgust. “You should’ve sent the valkyrie to Midgard to rot.”
“Unless invited, you will not step foot in Sessrúmnir again,” Freyja said. “Your intrusions may be excused by lesser gods, but I will not be so easily moved.”
Odin straightened his robes, still covered in hardened blobs of gold. “Very well.”
“Well then, get the fuck out of my hall.” Freyja said, her silver eyes flaring. “You may leave through the entrance you destroyed.”
Odin cleared his throat and, with a wave of his arm, transformed into a sleek, golden raven. He released an aggressive caw as his wings flapped angrily. The god disappeared into the maw of the corridor, and as I watched him go, my fingers itched to light him up. I always did like the scent of roasted bird.
Rune placed her hand on my wrist. “He’s gone. Let it be.”
I blew out a breath and relaxed my hand. “I guess we’d be dead pretty damn fast if we’d tried to fight hi?—”
“Speak for yourself,” Freyja said. “If you don’t think I can take on the Allfather, you clearly haven’t been around Fólkvangr long enough. My hall may be tranquil, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a goddess of war and battle. Odin is only wand-wed because of me. I taught him everything he knows—but I haven’t taught him everythingIknow.”
My jaw fell as I stared at the goddess.
“As such, I know what battles should be fought and when it’s time to hang up your weapons—or never draw them in the first place. I never would have started a war over a thing such as this. Sometimes, bringing a man to his knees is far more effective than cutting him at the ankles. Odin is a man of many things, but someone to admit when he’s wrong is not one. He would have continued to meddle in your lives for as long as you allowed him to.”
“I thank you for not only defending your home, but us as well,” Rune said.
Freyja nodded. “As you are my attendants, it is my duty to protect what is mine. You both have shown great strength today, and I am far more pleased knowing you will remain where you are than I was when I awoke this fine day.”
I took in a long breath, not sure how I felt about being called theirs by someone who wasn’t Rune. But if a goddess would go into battle for us, then we were in the right place. I wanted to throw my arms around Rune and cry out in relief at seeing that tiny white hair upon her head, but Freyja looked upon her as if there was still much to discuss, and I knew there was. I kept my tempted arms by my side and took a step back to give Rune and Freyja a moment.
“Now, Rune,” Freyja said, brushing back her hair and standing straighter. “This may not be the induction you wanted,but unfortunately, it’s the induction you’ve gotten. I want to officially welcome you to the House of Wings Fólkvangr sect. I hope you find everything you need here, and you feel at home within these walls.”
“I have a feeling I’ll have everything I need,” Rune said, glancing back at me. My face heated, and that one look from her sent a thousand butterflies free within my belly.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right,” Freyja said, her eyes slowly moving between the two of us with a ghost of a grin. “Now, will you do me the honor of becoming the sect’s head trainer?”
“I will. Thank you, Goddess,” Rune said with a bow of her head. I couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders fell in relief, as if she’d been carrying all nine worlds upon them. A weight lifted off us both. We had each passed a test of our own, and not only had we come out on the other end more powerful, but we finally had the chance to be together, without any god, test, or fate in our way.
“Brilliant,” she said, clasping her hands. “I'll have you sized for armor and leathers within the week. You'll be introduced to the sisterhood once your hair is fully stripped of color once more. We can’t have a brunette telling the girls what to do, now can we?” Freyja let out a low, amused laugh.
My lungs refused to take in my next breath. I thought of how long it’d taken for Rune’s hair to turn white the first time around. Even Rayna still had half her blonde hair remaining, and she was centuries old.
Rune seemed to be thinking the same thing. She shifted uncomfortably before Freyja, scratching the back of her neck. “And what would you have me do in the meantime?”
“Fear not. Once the seidr settles into your bones, the color in your hair will fade. It should take no more than a few days. Did you truly think I’d make you wait half a millennia? That would hardly be a productive use of time.”
I let out an audible sigh of relief that bubbled up into a giggle.
Thank the gods.
Or, should I say, thank the goddess? There were far too many gods lumped into the first expression, and I didn’t know how many of them actually deserved my gratitude. I’d always been wary of the divine, and leaving Midgard only solidified my beliefs. As much as I respected Freyja, I wasn’t naive enough to believe there were any gods or goddesses who were all good. They were all far too removed from humanity, too old and untouchable. With time and unfathomable power came scars on their godly nature, too deep to ever mend.
I watched Freyja, beautiful and deadly, and I thought about my next ten, fifty, one hundred years serving on her council. I couldn’t help but wonder if those scars would find me too one day.
“Now, what should I call you?” Freyja asked Rune.
“What should you call me?” Rune repeated, her head cocking ever so slightly.
“As this is a new life, your third life, I expect you may want to choose a new name for yourself. I know Odin chose your last one, but I don’t name my valkyries. They name themselves.”
Rune thought about this for a moment, and I too wondered what a world without Rune would be like. She took a step back and reached for my hand. I grabbed it tight, thankful for her presence. I didn’t have to think long or hard to know I didn’t want to live in such a world. Whatever her name was, whatever she chose, she would be mine, and I would be hers.
“I’ve been Rune Dragomir for 604 years, and I plan to remain as such. Odin may have named me, but he’s done stripping away my identity. I escaped him as Rune, I found my home as Rune,” she paused, her gaze moving from Freyja to me, “and I fell in love as Rune.”
