So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.

This story is part of several prequels leading up to That Which Wanders is Unaware. The sequel to TWWiU will be updated every week, but the prequels will be updated is I get to them.

You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name.

Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album by searching the title of this story and my user name.

CHAPTER ONE

TYSDAGR, GÓI 30TH 1410

TUESDAY, MARCH 13TH 1410

1001 HOURS

VESTFOLD, NORWAY

SANDEFJORD

ARNORA

Strings of bones. Banners of red and dull white. Feathers tied high around the trunks of trees. My world was the scent of pine needles and blood. The former more offensive to me then the last, because it reminded me of a world I would never see again.

I did it for the kingdom. I told myself I was doing it for my family, for the honor and pride of my bloodline. But those were just the comforts of illusions, there to hide the fact that if I did not serve willingly, I would do it in chains from within a cage. A cage I surrendered so quickly I never truly saw it.

I did everything in my life for the kingdom, and they refused me just as much.

"If you forget these delusions of shadows and murder, I will allow you to remain in Asgard and to continue your service to the realm. What say you?" Had I the means, my rage was great enough that I would have killed them all on that bridge. Starting with Odin.

Delusions of shadows and murder he said. The shadow he spoke of, it caught me by the neck once, and left a curse there that almost crushed my throat into my bones! It did this to me in his own hall, in his son's own presence.

Loki. I want to kill him too. I followed him, I served him, and I loved him. Those words were not and now shall never be spoken. I did as he asked, I stood at his side first as one of his servants, then as he slowly promoted me to his personal retainer. If ever there was anyone I truly served of my own volition, it was him. I was loyal and steadfast. I defended his name, and even kept his secrets! Loki was there when the shadow curled its fingers around my skin, and he spoke as if my life held no regard!

"Perhaps killing a servant of the All-Father's household in his household is not the wisest choice, unless of course the idea was to draw his attention now?" His words were casual and his face calm, right up until the shadow vanished, but its grip remained. Then Loki's face was one of panic, and his hands bleed as he used strength to overcome sorcery!

I almost died, but as I stood before Odin I did as my master asked. I said nothing of the conversation I saw him having with that thing. I said nothing of the familiarity they clearly shared. I said nothing of my suspicions, and I let the blame fall on someone else. I let that shadow walk unhindered because I was loyal, and I trusted my Prince. Then I felt that magick on my baby as she laid so still in her cradle!

That thing cursed my child! That thing Loki was scheming with! It came into my home, into my room! It stood over my child as I slept, and it CURSED MY BABY! I carry the blood of Eir, and the knowledge of her teachings. I could still feel her there, just the tiniest little spark of life clinging to the edges, and fueling my desperation!

I broke into Loki's library and I looked for the right books. If I could not heal my daughter quick enough to stop the curse, I would find a way to bring her soul back after she died! I would make a new body for her if I had too, but I would not let her die! I knew necromancy was forbidden. We venerate death on Asgard, to bring someone back from Valhalla is like chaining a whale inches above the water. It is cruel and monstrous according to our society. But I am sixteen, and Kenna is my first born child!

Loki called the guards because he thought I was a thief. By the time he realized who I was it was too late. The guards were there, and they had the orders of Odin behind them now. Loki's commands were ignored, and I was dragged away screaming as my daughter was torn from me and left in his hands!

I was taken before Odin, and as I spoke, as I begged, I could see it. I said a figure in a cloak, a person whose face was hidden by a shadow too thick to be anything but a spell, came and put a curse on my child. I saw it in his face with every word. He knew! He knew what killed my daughter. He knew what tried to kill me, he what Loki was conspiring with. I asked for one thing from the kingdom I dedicated my life to, and the kingdom said no.

Odin chose to let my child die, and threw me in prison to protect the secrets of his family! Odin probably would have executed me too if it was not for the fame of the 'heir of Eir'. My sudden disappearance would not go unnoticed. It gave them time to persuade the king.

Frigga, the Queen herself spoke on my behalf. So did my family. So did Loki, accomplice to murder that he was. They persuaded Odin to give me mercy. And I spat on it. He told me if I forgot my delusions of shadows and murder, he would allow you to remain in Asgard and to continue my service to the realm and I told him I hoped it came back and took him first.

I wanted them to kill me! My kingdom, my prince, everything I dedicated my life to both betrayed me! Even my own husband, the father of my child betrayed me! Randulfr, father of Kenna, the daughter I fought so hard to save, left me to fight alone! She was his child as much as mine, but he just stood there in silence. He chose his king over his kin. I always knew marrying an Einharajar meant I might lose him one day, but I never imagined it would be like this!

I wanted them to kill me, and they banished me instead. I felt the Bifrost hum under my feet, and then beneath those feet I felt rock and pine needles, and that is where I stayed.

I have been here ever since, waiting. I saw the light from the Bifrost appear again in the distance not long after it left me. I thought perhaps Odin sent my murderer after all. That my death was walking in my direction with an axe, now that there was no one to witness the crime. No one would ever know, they would all think Odin was merciful and gave me a chance, they would all think each year I did not return was my own fault. I did not care what they thought, I just wanted my executioner to hurry and find me.

That was more then a month ago, and who found me was a human instead. There was nothing special about her to me. She was just a woman with brown hair, wearing a gray dress with a brown apron, and filling a basket with herbs.

But to her, there was everything special about me. The Bifrost levels the land when it touches, and only what it touches. So she saw a foreign woman, dressed in foreign clothes. She saw a circle of knotwork that the snow did not touch. She saw a circle drawn by the Gods, surrounded by trees that had their sides shaved clean down to the very wood. She left, and part of me hoped she would not come back, but I knew she would, because getting what I want clearly was not my fate.

She brought back people. First she came back with a woman carrying a wand. Then more women. Then they came back with men in off white robes with shaved heads, and kohl staining their lips and eyes.

They wanted to know who I was. They wanted know why I came. I never said anything to them. They wanted my name, but all I wanted was to leave it behind. When I gave them nothing, they gave me a name they thought was fitting. There was an arrogance in that I know they did not mean. I should have been offended, but I lacked the strength to care. Íviðia was just a word, just a sequence of syllables. No matter what it meant, it really meant nothing.

The things they built for me meant nothing either. I sat through all of it in silence, hoping soon I would just fade away from hunger. It did not take me long to realize I had made the mistake of hoping again, and this wish too would never happen.

They built arches leading up to my clearing. They built a table. They built pens from branches. They decorated the trees with strings of bones, feathers, and banners of cloth. They decorated the site with worshipers. I had never been touched by so many people.

They came with prayers. Standing before their priests as they invoked the names of people who did nothing to deserve their worship, and then came to me with faces speckled in blood. They asked questions, made requests and kissed my skin.

I wonder what I must have seemed like to them. A young woman with strangely colored skin and eyes. My clothes were rags, but even those were finer then best among them. My body lived, even though I took no food or drink from them.

They did not know why I did not die, and I did not either. I just sat there quietly as they slit the throats of animals and hung them from the trees around me. It had been more then a month since I tasted food, and I felt in my flesh. I was starving, but I lived. Why did I live? Why would this cruelty continue? Why could I not just rest and find peace? Why could I not just be with my daughter again?

I took someone else's child to give my life purpose again.

At first the crowd was large. A Goddess had landed in their forest. Many came to see me. The drums and dancing, the drunken debauchery, it went on late into the night around me. They held celebration of life, in mockery, around a woman who wanted to die.

It was a relief when the crowds started thinning. Life on Midgard was harsh and unforgiving, even when the winter was not upon them. If they wanted to live through the year, they could not stay away from their homes just to watch a woman sit in the dirt.

That did not stop them all though, there was still the Völva who tended to me. A sacred class of women who practiced a magickal art. I understood that, and in a way I think she understood me. she saw the signs of grief on me as she dared to wash my skin, and comb my hair. She would have done that forever if I stayed. She was building houses nearby.

A woman came. Not one of the Völva, but just a woman from the village, with a large basket under her arm and a boy on her back. She came to seek blessings, and she brought a rooster as her sacrifice.

It was not the rooster that made me move. They had been killing animals all around me for a long time.

It was the way that baby kept being ignored. They had brought children to me before, but those children had been surrounded by crowds, and easy to ignore even when they were inches from me. There is no crowd now, just the mother, the child, the Priestess, and I, standing on my feet before them all.

None of them knew what to do, but least of all was the mother. I had been still for so long I doubt any of them expected it I could even stand at all. She might have considered my movement a sign of good fortune if it was not for the intensity in my eyes.

I hated that child! I hated the sound it was making! I hated the way it made me feel! The way all of this made me feel! I wanted death, I waited for it, but it just kept refusing to come! All I got was the sound of animals screaming day after day! I hated that even though she showed hesitation, when I held out my arms she put her son in them!

There was nothing special about this boy. He had brown hair and brown eyes, and he cried only because of the colic twisting in his stomach. I hated him for that, for being so weak and helpless, for being so like the child I failed.

I could not stand the way he giggled and squeezed his fat fingers around mine. I wanted to die, but I was so tired of wanting to die.

Odin sent me here hoping time and hardship would soften or kill me. It had not killed me yet, and I refuse to let it bend me to his will.

If I can not starve to death and waste away on this planet, then I will live. I will spend every day defying that bastard just by existing. I do not know how I will do it yet, but I will build another life, and someday I will find a way to make them pay!

Neither of them stopped me as I walked away. I know they wanted to but I think it was a combination of fear, and the fact that had to chase down that 'blessed' chicken. Its throat was half slit already, and the blood had drained so much it barely fluttered in the Völva's hand. When my fingers traced over its feathers it flailed back to life as she all but threw it in shock.

They probably will worship that bird now for all I know. I do not care. That child ruined everything.

NOTES FOR THE READERS:

Yes, I'm aware that the viking age ended long before the 1400's, however I would like to remind everyone that the MCU is only based on our universe. Therefore since the first Thor movie had the Frost giants attack a village that was clearly viking, in the 1400's I'm going to assume the viking age was still going and make adjustments accordingly while blending that detail is well is can with other history at the time.