Chapter 1: Freya's Falcon Coat

5004, OTT

Outside the bitter cold winds of Longnight howled around the thick Duro-Crete walls of the Burg; but here in my mother’s drawing room it was warm and cozy. The soak-stones glowed warm with Tyranno Oil fire in the oven. I always thought her room was just a bit warmer than all the other rooms and halls.

Here in her chambers the gray and drab Duro-Crete walls were mostly covered with velvet curtains and antique tapestries depicting the first settlers, the gods, scenes of great clan Wars and legendary hunts.

I was lying on my favorite spot, nestled among the incredibly soft, copper-colored Nubhir furs spread out on mother’s divan. Her fur blankets were lined with smooth, luxurious shimmering ivory satin; ever since I could remember I loved the feel them. My fur blankets were made of the coarse back pelt of Fangsnappers, were not lined at all and always had a strong musky odor. Here everything smelled wonderful.

She was sitting across from me in her favorite chair, with the thick Book of Legends on her lap and reading me another fantastic adventure of Thor the Thunder God.

Her long blonde hair glistened like spun gold in the warm yellow light of the brass reading lamp beside her. The old book rested on the maroon colored skirt of her velvet dress, the one with the golden seams I liked so much.

She was a great reader and could bring the characters of the story to life, just like now. She gestured with her slender hand and began to read:

“One morning Thor, the mighty God of Thunder, awoke from a deep slumber; he reached for his hammer as he was wont to do first thing every morning. Alas, on this day, his fist formed around thin air - the hammer had disappeared.”

Her hand was searching the thin air next to her chair and I was no longer lying down. I hadn’t heard this story before and had to sit up straight. Thor’s hammer was gone! How could he defend Asgard and make thunder without it?

She glanced at me, gave me a deep smile and continued on reading. Her voice increased in intensity and she managed to speak with a deeper voice. “Thor was beside himself. His rage was immense and would probably have been quite destructive, but without his hammer, all he could do was rant and rave. What good was the God of Thunder without his mighty weapon?”

I could only imagine, Thor without his hammer, unthinkable!

Mother’s voice became quieter and her face had a quizzical look “Of course he had his suspicion as to the identity of the thief ... it could only have been those pesky Giants! But no matter, he needed his hammer back, and quickly! First thing though, he had to find out where the Giants might have hidden it.

Who better than Loki, the shrewd one to make inquiries? Not to lose any time, Loki went to Freya and asked her for the loan of her feather-dress, the famed falcon-cloak, so he might quickly fly to the land where the Giants dwell. When Freya heard what the cloak was needed for, she was more than willing to help.

So Loki went on his way and it wasn’t long before he happened upon Thrym, one of the princes of the Giant clan. Thrym feigned surprise and inquired what could possibly be so wrong in Asgard, or perhaps Elfland, that Loki dared enter the realm of the Giants on his own.

Loki told him of his mission, to find the Hammer of Thor. Whereupon the Giant threw back his huge, ugly head, shook with thunderous laughter, and then told Loki that the hammer was well out of the reach of the Aesir, safely buried, some eight fathoms beneath the Earth’s surface. And it would never again be swung by Thor ... lest Freya herself be brought to him as his bride. Freya, of course, was Odin’s bride and the most beautiful of the Aesir”

I knew Freya would have looked exactly like my mother, for who could be more beautiful than her? “You should have a cloak of feathers too!” I said. “So you could look lovely and I could borrow it to fly around!”

She laughed. “Oh that would be grand indeed. However I doubt Freya would want to share her cloak with mere mortals, but I too wondered what that cloak would look like, especially when my father told me this story when I was a little girl.”

“What did Freya say when she heard about that?”

“Let me read you more of the story and let us find out.” She turned the page. “Loki hurried back to Asgard, to inform Freya that she needed to ready herself to become the bride of the Giant Thrym, a terrible fate but for the good of Asgard, of course!

Freya’s outrage became the stuff of legend in the halls of Asgard - the idea, she, the beautiful, wild, free-spirited Freya, the bride of that mangy dog!

Something had to be done and finally, Heimdahl, the Wise One, advised Thor that there was no other solution than that he, Thor, dress up in women’s bridal frocks and pretend to be Freya.

To say that Thor was less than taken with this idea would be an understatement. No way was he going to risk the ridicule of all Asgard. There had to be a better way!