Page 28 of Last Thrall of Asgard

When each scene finished, they replayed from the beginning, over and over. If Balder was reliving more of his worst moments than his best, then Helwasa pit of despair, because on the end of the bed sat the god himself, staring at the scene of his fitful dreaming.

I let the memories replay twice more before I closed the door behind me.

“Oh! There you are,” Balder said, though any real surprise quickly faded, becoming as docile as his smile.

To find him handsome was no surprise. He was often called the fairest of the gods, even above Freyr. His eyes were amber, almost golden, same as his hair and beard. The beard was shorter than Freyr’s more medium length, and his chin length hair hung wavy and free. He was dressed as simply as Hel, in dark trousers and a sleeveless white tunic, with no adornments, save equally simplistic leather bracers. Although, upon those bracers, was a stitched depiction of the very plant that had spelled his doom.

Mistletoe.

Besides being the fairest, Balder was said to be the embodiment of charm and magnetism. Yet here, now, he was a shell of the man, thegod, he had once been in the scene where the others praised him, and his eyes said he knew it.

“Could it be? The incomparable god Balder,depressed?”

Balder’s smile twitched. He supposedly radiated more light than gleaming Heimdall, but it was muted now, like everything about him. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. I was told you expected me, but in my experience, a sadfuckisn’t as therapeutic as one might think.”

He laughed. “I can see why Loki likes you.”

“I don’t know about that. Revels in tormenting me, yes, but then, he’s like that with everyone, isn’t he?”

“You may be surprised.”

I often was, especially since meeting gods.

Balder patted the bed beside him, so I sat with him, facing the scene of his dreaming. His nightmares of death.

“Loki killed you,” I stated the well-known fact. “Well, Hod did, but it was Loki’s doing. Then, if some stories are correct, when Hel said she would return you to life if all living things mourned you, and all did, Loki disguised himself as someone who refused, and you remained dead throughout Ragnarök.”

“Yes,” Balder said with a contented sigh. “A fine gift as an apology for my demise.”

“Gift?”

“I wasn’t ready to return. Even after Ragnarök, I am still not ready. But it is not pity I seek, young mortal.”

“Oli.”

“Well met, Oli. Help me feel alive again, so I might believe my rebirth is warranted.”

As Balder reached for me, even if not meant to be about pity, I felt it for the solemn god. He might not have the countenance of an Aesir right now, but he used the strength of one to pull me onto his lap and kiss me. It was a good, hard, deep kiss, but it sank my heart like a stone.

His sadness was different from Freyr’s. It made me want to go slow, be tender, be caring with this fragile deity.

Then he moved us up the bed, sprawling us so I tipped on top of him, and brought one of my hands to his throat like Heimdall had. “We may be in Hel already, but I wish to be reminded of my death.”

“What?” I snatched my hand away from him. “You said you wanted to feel alive.”

“Yes, but every moment, awake or asleep, I see my death again, just like in my dreams. I cannot escape it. Please. I need to know I can surpass this. Survive its terror. Live again.” He seized me by my tunic and wrenched me into a harsher kiss.

The scene of Balder’s funeral pyre was in full blazing glory behind the headboard, and as I glanced up to watch his corpse smolder and blacken, I could smell it. Not anything rancid, but the thick, smokey scent of a bonfire, still in his hair and on his skin. Was I imagining it? Everything felt hazier the more he sucked on my tongue.

Balder brought my hand to his throat again, and I let him, but I kept my grip lax, no matter how much he tried to make me tighten it. I wasn’t sure if I could tighten it. I felt dizzy. Strange.

“B-Balder—”

“Please. I feel like a phantom. Rebirthed like the Greek stories of a phoenix rising from its own ashes, yet I still returned here.”

“Why?”

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