Chapter Twenty-Eight - Fylgja

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Author's Note: Hey everyone! So, again, the chapters are taking me an excruciatingly long time to write, but I'm chugging along and doing my best! Life's been crazy and hectic and busy and I don't know what weekends are or what sleep is, but welcome to college as a theatre major! There are only two more chapters after this!! How crazy is that?!? So, onto this chapter, which is admittedly a little lighter fare than usual, which, trust me, is a blessing in disguise. Please, keep the comments coming! I enjoy every single one of them, even if I don't always get the time to respond or interact with you guys! Enjoy, and I hope to have the next chapter out soon!

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Chapter Twenty-Eight - Fylgja, or Follow

I walk carefully through the trees. They fill me with an odd sense of isolation. I feel so alone, though I can hear Loki breathing beside me. I turn to look at him, just to affirm that he actually is there and I’m not entirely losing my mind. He’s already looking at me by the time I turn my head. 

“I don’t like this place,” I remark quietly to Loki, afraid to lift my voice much above a whisper. 

He nods, his eyes scanning around us quickly. “The western mountains are notoriously hostile for a reason, my dear.”

“I cannot believe that Odin would send Frey all the way out here…wait, no yes I can,” I roll my eyes. I rub my hands together absently, feeling a sudden chill. The Asgardian Mountains were relatively peaceful for a while. But somewhere along the path, the trees grew twisted and menacing, blocking out the sun high above us. Something about this place is absolutely, brutally oppressive. The very air feels like a weight in my lungs with each breath. “He must be around here somewhere, right?”

No sooner have the words left my lips than I see him. He is still quite some distance away but he barely looks like the Frey I know. He is skinnier, and the shadow of a beard that once decorated his cheek has fully realized itself. He doesn’t see us right away, as we stand back at the edge of the woods. I note that he is chained to the rocky face of the cliff, and he stands guard before the tall carved wooden doors that fit directly into the cliffside. I’m still not entirely certain what lays beyond, but something Odin deems important enough to guard. But also this post is a punishment. So what in the name of Nine Realms could be so bad?

I take a step forward and a branch cracks beneath my feet, drawing Frey’s attention. He stiffens but seems to realize it’s me almost instantly. He runs forward, but his chains reach their end and he is yanked back slightly. I run into his arms, crossing the distance he cannot, and I hold him tightly because I am afraid he might slip through my fingers again. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” I mutter over and over again against his shoulder. He pulls back slightly, cupping my face in my hands, before he brings his lips to mine and abruptly kisses me. 

“There has never before been a happier man than myself at this very moment,” he whispers, his thumbs rubbing my cheeks. Loki appears at my side, though he seems surprisingly calm and restrained near a man who just kissed me. Frey looks at Loki and lets me go, grabbing Loki by the shoulders, kissing him in pure relief and then embracing him as well. Loki’s expression over Frey’s shoulder may just provide me a lifetime of amusement. When he relinquishes his hold on Loki, Frey returns to me and I embrace him again tightly. I run my hands across his shoulderblades, grown sharp and protruding under his skin since I saw him last. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper against his long, unkempt hair. 

“I cannot believe you’re truly alive,” he says, pulling away but still clinging to my shoulders. He smiles at me and suddenly I feel tears in my eyes. “I mean, of course I believe you are alive. You are not one particularly fond of dying.”

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