TITLE: On the Turning Away 5A/13 SERIES: Dark Side of the Rainbow Bridge AUTHOR: Raven4 ( arcadian13_2000@... ) ARCHIVE: Feel free, but I wanna know where FANDOM: X:WP, H:TLC PAIRING: Strife/Cupid, Eris/Various RATING: NC-17 OC, POV WARNINGS: 1. WARNING WARNING: Non-Consensual sex ahead. This tale will include mention of the multiple rape of Discord. I'm not planning on being very graphic, but I am planning on being very emotional. If this squicks you out, don't read it. Skip this chapter. 2. Very little DeadStrife tm. This is mainly Freya's edited account of the conception of Strife, Joxer and Jett/Jace and the last days of Asgaard. 3. Heavy Angst ahead. The recollection of rape, torture and deicide is not a happy smiley story. If you don't like Angst, see warning 1. 1. Darkside 5A is written in the poetic style of Icelandic sagas. If you find it difficult to follow, there will be a normal version of the story labeled Dark Side 5B. If you are really enjoying this series, I recommend reading both as there are some details particular to each. 4. She's not Mary Sue; she's my goddess. DISCLAIMER: Actual Gods and Monsters are public domain. So there! Herc and Xena Original characters (Joxer, Strife, etc.) belong to Ren Pics and Flat Earth Prods. Translation; Don't break 'em and make sure they've been washed when you return 'em. NOTES: Freya is the secret identity of the goddess formerly known as Munin. Ragnarok is the Norse end of the world. For Questions about other Norse names and terms used by the goddess, visit http://www.pantheon.org/mythica.html Flames will be cheerfully ignored or used to keep Asgaard burning. SUMMARY: Freya confesses her crime while protecting the innocent "My name is Freya Njordsdattir." She locked her gaze on his face. "And I brought about the end of the world." For the second time in as many hours, Strife, god of Mischief stared at his servant with his mouth hanging open. Long moments passed before he closed it with a snap and looked at her skeptically. "Care to run that by me again, birdy girl?" He asked. "'Cause I don't think I heard ya right." "You heard me, my lord." She said softly. Her eyes were far away, fixed on sights that she had once seen and no one would ever see again. "In the ages long passed, when Yggdrasil bloomed with life and fed on death, the gods of the north, both Aesir and Vanir, lived in peace on Asgaards plain. Fair Frey and his sister Freya were Vanir among Aesir, with their father, Njord they travelled; hostages to seal the peace. These were the times of mighty deeds, when Thor's hammer smote the Jotun giants and Odin, the Allfather ruled o'er Asgaard and it's children. From his meadhall, Gladsheim he ruled o'er all the worlds. The einherjar, those blessed to die in valiant strife feasted. In Valhalla nights they feasted, and then fought throughout the day. They prepared for Ragnarok, when Odin god would lead them. For it had been told, by a holy Valla how Loki would come with fire and anger, with the fire giants led by Surt, the sons of Muspel, the frost giant horde and all those dead by peaceful means to raze the mighty halls of Asgaard, burning all the worlds in his rage. Fathfull Heimdall would sound his horn Gjaller. To warn of the horde's approach. Loki's hand would kill bifrost's gaurdian, but Heimdall would take the godkiller with him. Ragnarok it was said to be, and no one doubted it's coming. Fenris Wolf would devour Odin, then vengeful Vadir would kill the beast. Mighty Thor would subdue the World-Serpent, but poisoned in the fight quickly fall. Frey will die in battle glorious, beauty laid low by fiery Surt. Tyr would do battle with Garm, the hound, and dying both would the other fell. The Einherjar, the hallowed dead would war with those from Hel's dominion. Dead fighting dead on the plain of Ida, until none were left to tell the tale. And Surt enraged with old complaint, would fling his hands about the world, and all would die in his anger's flame. The nine worlds burning, reduced to ash. Friend and foe would die together, and leave no one there to weep or toast. From these ashes a new world rises, green and free of any gods but these. Them who lived through Asgaard's burning. Never more to taste its' mead. Gladsheim long ago forgotten, never more it's memory seen. This was the prophecy told by the vala, and all named in it feared it not. It was fate and none could change it. Therefore we drank in Aegir's home. Making merry as unschooled children and counting not the cost of slaughter. I remember that final battle. I saw it clearly from Aegir's hall. I watched the finest and basest falling. Their blood co-mingling on the ground. For Asgaard had sinned, and so Asgaard paid the price. There came in the time before our fall, a foreign Aesir, a goddess lost. She came to Svartalfheim and asked to join the drawves in their arcane play. She was comely, fair and clever, and her company much desired. So they sat her at their table and back to feasting turned their minds. They had freed godkiller Loki, from his justly earned lament, and brought him down into their grottoes, to make them laugh by his rudeness and art. The foreign girl of him knew nothing, not of his pride or of his rage. She looked on him and thought him handsome, and so she drew his speech and gaze. But soon was Loki, cruel and nimble, offended by her wit and look. For she refused to name him wiser. So he plotted vengeance harsh. Wicked Loki, giant kin, he beguiled the Grekkenmaid. He posed her riddle after riddle and each one came she to with glee. Answering godkillers challenge almost before he gave them out. Arrogant Loki would not see it as other than insult and purposely given, so he conspired against the Grekmaid to see her fall beneath his foot. Odin, one eye and Loki the giant bloodbrothers were by Odin's oath, but Loki banished for killing Baldur was out of favor with Aesir's lord. But Loki knew of Odin's habit, to break any maidenhead he found, and so to the allfather Loki petitioned, and so was the fate of the Grekmaid sealed. Loki drugged her youth with godmead and bore her away to Gladsheim's door. Come see, he said to Odin's anger, come see what tribute I have brought. A foreign god for you to plunder with treasures never touched by ought. She is ripe and fine and lovely, and I would give her firsts to you, as a token of the honor that I offer you and yours. Odin grinned and followed Loki to the place where Grekmaid lay. And he found her shape most pleasing, and would break her, yay or nay. With war rough hands they took her out and bound her to Yggdrasil's roots. There to take unwanted license and water the lifetree with virgin blood. Loki mocking held her open, scoffing at her cries and pleas, and drank her tears as Odin broke her. First of Asgaard to plunder her trove. When Odin's lust had been emptied in her, then did Loki take his turn. And laboured hard, did cruel godkiller to make the Grekmaid scream with pain. All through his rutting his fists fell on her. His pleasure could be read in her bruised flesh. And laughed he together with Odin, Betrayer about the lewdness of the view. When he had finished using the goddess, he wiped his spear in her sable hair and laughing went to find another who would use her just as rough. Odin stayed to beat her further, finding this a wondrous sport, 'til Loki returned with Frey the lovely, blindfolded to see neither blood nor pain. Then the silver tongued godkiller whispered in my brother's ear. Here is woman, warm and willing. Tis her wish, your heat to feel, but in secret, you not knowing, whose sweet body you may touch. Gentle Frey listened for objection, trusting not in Loki's word, but Odin's spear was lodged in her throat, his girth did silence the GrekMaiden's cry. So deluded, blinded Frey, trusting that the girl was free, thought this was a game of loving, and thrust inside with single stroke. And so did Loki in this way, violate not one, but two. For sweet Frey's heart in two would break, when he learned the truth at last. To Grekmaid's horror and godkiller's glee, Frey a giving lover was, and sought to bring his partner pleasure, using all a love god knows. And so she, helpless pinioned between blind Frey, Loki and Odin's spears, was made to come against her will, and even worse this made her shame. Frey did climax close behind her and ran his hand along her flank as one would a tender lover begging her to give her name. Then Loki led him from the garden and back to Aegir's feasting hall, and handsome Frey returned to drinking, with not a clue of what he'd done. For Frey's love seed was strong and fertile and bound the other two within, so in the moment Grekmaid came three lives were in her belly wrought. One, the son of one eyed Odin, one, the get of Loki was and lastly came a child of Frey all bound to grow within her flesh. So was the fate of Asgaard sealed at the base of Yggdrasil. They brought her into Aegir's meadhall and of her suffering made they sport. And Loki laughing told fair Frey the truth of his ecstatic touch. Frey to Alfheim fled in shame, full sick that he'd turned love to hate. Freya in her rage did challenge this offense with wrathful words. All maidenheads were hers by right because she ruled o'er pleasures all. But Odin overruled her words, and disregarded all her censure. The grekmaid would not go, he swore, but would remain to be their sport. And Freya's suit being denied, she left that place and journeyed home. To her hall, where she called forth power to swear a solemn vow. She could not free the godly Maid, being to Odin subordinate, but she could share the poor girls suffering and suffer with her in kinship's spirit. So she watched through all the horrors that the captive Grekmaid bore. And never once did Freya turn her face away from Grekken's pain. Nine months she kept her anguished vigil, while Loki and his brother played. Though her eyes were red and weary, never did she move her gaze. She daily sent a missive harsh, demanding the Grekkenmaid go free. And to her side came Odin's Frigga, and covered all the worlds with snow. Spring would not come, the god-queen swore until the Grekkenmaid was freed. At long last, as Grekkenmaid grew heavy with the forced fruit, sickened Freya could not bear to merely watch her sorry fate. She could no longer countenance godkiller's sin against poor virtue, and so her falcon cloak she took, and set to search the world's throughout, to find the Grekkenmaid a champion who could take her from Asgaard. Long searched Freya through the void, seeking vainly for some sign that she would find the Grekmaid's champion and lead him to her captive place. Til, unable to journey further, Freya fell to rest upon the shores of a country, warm and fertile, and there she met a searching god. His quest was for a missing sister, lost nine months before. Her heart rejoiced, yet she said nothing, unsure what to tell this god. Til finally, she through art made heavy the storming thunder of his eyes. He fell to sleeping, and she took him, wrapped him in her falcon coat, and bore him through the void asleep, to the foot of Asgaard's slopes. There she let him wake and wonder, keeping hidden from his sight. She contrived a trail to lead him unto the hall where his sister lay. The Grekkenmaid was big with child, and sleeping, chained on straw and stone. Bruises stood out on her face, and scratches marred her milky arms. Her ebon hair was lank and dirty and her eyes were dull with pain, but when she saw her brother come, a smile sublime spread on her face. Grekken god did lift his sister gently in his mighty arms, and bore her out of Gladsheim's door away across the plain of Ida. Odin's wolves, Geri and Freki would have howled to wake their lord, but Freya in her anger slew them, breaking their necks with her milk white hands. Hugin and Munin, Thought and Memory, Odin's ravens saw this act, their warning croaks also were silenced by the twist of Freya's arms. The corpses of allfather's pets, she hid beneath the meadhall stones. And then she followed the grekken pair to conceal their fleeing path. Freya let her long hair down and off she took her golden kirtle, followed by her tunic gown, and nude she stood beneath the moon. Slowly raising up her passion, she wove the spell of lover's flame, and dancing on the plain of Ida, concealed the trail beneath her feet. Her rising passion warmed the ground and with her art she summoned flowers, that the scent of fleeing Greklords would be lost in odor sweet. Then unto her hall returning, Freya brooded through the night, hoping that the Grekmaid's family might heal her broken, wronged heart. Through her mirror, she did watch as maid and lord their homeland reached. His sister Grekkenlord did carry to a hall of marble white, and leave her in the care of women while he to his siblings went. Freya watched the Grekgods ' anger kindle when the tale was told. Then she saw them, raging Grekken girding all for battle fierce and she knew the end was coming, brought about by Loki's sin. Fair Freya being such a lady as from war and love was made, saw the Grekken rage was righteous, and could not bear to see them die. So when the Grekken host approached Bifrost, the rainbow bridge to Asgaard, Freya stole godkiller's knife and threw it into Heimdall's breast. Heimdall, thinking Loki slew him, sounded Gjaller, his world-end horn. And all the gods were roused from slumber to meet and fight on Ida's plain. But not as Vala had pronounced it went the final battle there. In the place of Vala's killers, Grekengods were come to war. Loki's Fenris they had slaughtered for his father's heinous deeds. A dog with three enourmous heads did swallow Odin one eye down. Then this unknown Grekkenhound dissappeared from battle's view before Vidar could take revenge and slay him in his father's name. A lovely god as gold as sunshine struck down Frey with golden fire, and Thor was felled not by the serpent but by a mighty hunteress Grek after he had vanquished midgaard's serpent with Mjollnir's blow. So each fell who had been spoken of in Vala's prophecy, but not as she had seen it done within her vision of this time. Loki's death came not from Heimdall, who lay dying at the bridge, but from the Grekkenmaid's dark brother, who tortured slowly foul godkiller 'til he died in agony. Thus did Ragnarok come justly bringing doom on Asgaard's host. As they, the gods, had wronged Grekmaiden, price was paid in holy blood. Loki's sin caused Ragnarok, but Freya's efforts killed the gods. She was pinned by Nemesis' two arrows to the meadhall's board, and welcomed death most lovely Freya, for she her fellows had betrayed. But the final arrow golden, from the Grekken's bow was stayed, and Nemesis her shot abandoned, leaving Freya still alive. Freya freed herself with effort, and left the shattered Asgaard halls, wandring far and wide in penance for the world she helped to end. Now kind Baldur, best of Aesir rules o'er newborn Nordenland while faithless Freya the betrayer hides in Grekken Hades' realm. This, the tale of Asgaard's ending. This, the end of Asgarrd's tale." Freya's voice trailed off, but her face was pale and streaked with salt and her reddened eyes were still distant, fixed on the sights she alone had seen. The best and the worst of her kind had perished together. This was the cause of her hate for Loki, but it was also the cause of her hate for herself. Strife looked at her long and hard. He'd have to think about this.