By the time I woke up, we were near the borders of Asgard. We entered the city before nightfall, having traveled for a mere few hours on fast steeds. As we entered the Bifrost, a dark man with a piercing gaze greeted us. The All Father dismounted his horse carefully and walked towards the Gatekeeper, still holding me tightly in his embrace as I stirred. Normally, having never in my current life heard the Asgardian language, I wouldn't be able to understand what was said between the two of them. However my spirit, my soul, had somehow made a leap through time and space, therefore knowledge that wasn't exactly mine followed my conscious mind. Memories of events that haven't yet happened –and hopefully never would- haunted my thoughts for now, the thoughts of a mere toddler, and yet not quite.
"Greetings my king."
"Greetings to you, Heimdall Gatekeeper. What news from the field?"
"The Jotuns are retreating my lord. They have abandoned the vast expanse of the kingdom of Jotunheim, and they are moving South, as far away from the Bifrost's entrance as they can reach. I see the king of the Frost Giants alive, but unwell, leading his remaining warriors away from the field of battle."
Then the dark man, Heimdall, glanced at me, seemingly unsure of how to continue. I yawned loudly, and smiled at the guardian of Asgard, something I hadn't done in my past life. In my last "first" meeting with Heimdall I kept glancing at him warily, his bright red eyes and intimidating features making me unconvinced of my safety when close to him. Now I knew the man, he served Asgard, he would give his life for the city and its occupants. And, if nothing else, he neither caused nor aided my downfall, only going as far as to not let me do anyone harm. I always respected him for his devotion, towards Asgard and its king, since it wasn't the complete, blind and uninformed devotion one saw in the other Asgardian warriors. His devotion was inspired by the depths of his creation, by his protectiveness over something seemingly eternal. In many ways Asgard was Heimdall's child.
The guardian kept looking at me, obviously stunned by both my calmness and my actions. Then, with some hesitation, he released his left hand from the grip on his sword and lifted the palm slowly towards my face. Now, I said I didn't hold any grudges against Heimdall, but still, I wasn't ready for contact just yet. So I lifted both my hands, raised them above my head and towards the offending hand. I caught the small and middle fingers of the digit, squeezed, and commented on the disrespect with something that came out suspiciously as a cooing sound. The irony was too much for me to bear, to be an ancient being that had just made baby sounds, so I cracked a toothy smile and giggled. Heimdall was yet again surprised, only this time he sported a smile of his own as he let me hold his hand. Almost immediately though he turned serious, turning his face from me to the All Father.
"Laufey was searching for him."
Odin seemed surprised at that, for the hand that was holding me unclenched for a second, only to return to its previous place, tighter than before. However, his surprise was nothing compared to mine. Laufey was searching for me; had that happened the first time around? Could it be possible that I wasn't abandoned, as the All Father claimed? Was I stolen from Jotunheim? I felt my rage bubbling up in my throat, I wanted to scream, to pound Odin with all the accusations I had, from this life and the last one. Still thousands of years of suppressing my emotions aided me into concealing my troubling thoughts for later. Still grasping Heimdall's fingers, I chanced a look at the All Father. He looked skeptical, turning his gaze to the ground, then to me, then back to Heimdall. He nodded for him to continue.
"I don't think he wanted him back my lord. He didn't seem concerned for his safety. He entered the temple holding a dagger, just as you had taken your leave. At first I thought he was searching for you or for any remaining soldiers. But then he moved towards where the youngling had been. The caverns were dark my lord, so the remaining cloth that you abandoned when you took this little one could have caused the illusion of a sleeping child." Here the guardian took a breath before continuing. "He attacked the cloth with the dagger. I think he wanted to kill the child."
I held my breath at that. I wouldn't cry, I wouldn't. I knew there was no love lost between me and Laufey, but for him to try to kill me was a completely different thing than to simply abandon me to my fate. And while the result of both actions would have been the same, me dying, my biological father killing me seemed like a more cruel way to go. Still, I don't know why I expected differently, why I allowed myself to hope. After all it was a matter of weakness. Laufey wanted to be strong, to seem strong against the All Father, and the chances of him discovering me, as meager as they were, were a risk Laufey was not willing to take. It was nothing personal, for I was never something personal to Laufey, even though I was his blood. It was just business. I understood that. It didn't hurt any less.
Looking at the All Father again, I was surprised to see that he was furious. Livid even. He held me tighter against him, closing his eye to calm himself. He touched the sides of his nasal bone with his free hand and pinched tightly, trying to cast an unwanted headache away. And failing miserably. Then he lowered his hand, careful not to touch the white gauze that covered his injured eye, turned to Heimdall and nodded in acceptance. Then he turned around, put me on the side-saddle pouch in which I stayed during the journey from Jotunheim to Asgard, mounted his horse and ordered his troops forward. Heimdall opened the gate, and I was once again in the city of the Aesir. Back to the city of Asgard.
Back home.
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