#his reaction to book 7 is probably very amusing especially the seidr thing

[asterouslyaesthetic]

so i know we already have the whole "older brother of a woman linked to us via dreams also dreaming of us" shtick covered by hríd, but we also have freyr apparently and it's been living in my head rent-free forever

this is his level 40 confession:

Long, long ago...I dreamt of a summer day spent beneath the sun's rays...And you were standing beside me in that dream, [Summoner]... There is no mistake. That was a true dream... It was a promise made by the future. How will the dream continue from here, I wonder... Of course, knowing would detract from the mystique. Dreams form our desires and shape the future...but for now, let us simply drift off into the summer sun.

how long ago was long, long ago...because for me, my mind immediately jumped to tiny freyr—with short hair and only a single braid instead of two and his eyes closed all the time still, but his face still manages to reveal his emotions when he does not give it permission to, particularly when his sister is involved—waking up as a voice inside his older self's brain, able to see and feel everything he does but unable to exert any influence, because he has always had some influence over dreams and that extends to visions of the future.

and there's this pretty mortal in a sundress who sits next to him as he's simply laying down, and when she says his name, his older self opens his eyes, only to be rewarded with salt water sprinkled at his face and a beautiful smile that makes his heart pound.

but he's so young and she's a mortal, and the only thing young freyr concedes that day is that it's nice to see freyja having fun with a friend.

the visions, bits and pieces out of context that show a wonderful future, don't stop after that day, as if to taunt him for when he disregarde, the clear signs that he grows to love her, because he does and how is it hard to when she cares for freyja so deeply that his sister is willing to trouble herself for the mortal's sake?

those in the palace begin whispering after the fifth time he bumps into the wall with a soft smile on his face.

he sees her past and sees her variable future—some things are fixed, but others are not. he sees her in a wedding gown, as a happy bride and a sad bride, he sees her with children, and he sees her grow old, whether alone or with her variable husbands; most of them are kings, but only three are of Midgard, and of those, one is only a grand duke, beloved brother to the empress.

(never with him)

he sees her in a beautiful deep red dress, on a balcony with only the company of fireworks; he hears the way his heart pounds, and remembers what he once thought; and though there is no recognition in her eyes, she welcomes him to her side all the same

but what should be the start of a two-sided relationship, an acknowledgement of him from her, becomes a time he hopes will never exist

because it isn't until much later that he learns what his sister attempts to do, how she traps the mortal in a neverending dream—about his death and the last thing he sees. to see her smile at him one last time...that much, at least, is granted to him.

but ironically, his desperate attempts to convince freyja to avoid such a path, to leave the beautiful mortal alone, are what drive her into consolidating her plans—and she never realizes, not until they both are willed into existence in Askr, that it wasn't simply a matter of loving mortals; that it was a matter of loving one mortal and wanting her to be happy to a self-sacrificial point.

because his death and freyja's, they are fated, they are fixed, and the prospect of them surviving even once means that they will have changed the future in all timelines. because they, like those of ymir, or hel, or vanir and asgard, exist outside of time—singular entities watching over all worlds—but are still beholden to it.

and then he is summoned, to her, and she smiles the way she did the first time. and freyr, he makes himself a promise. to be helpful in whatever way he can—to be the shoulder she can lean on when she's tired, the ears that listen to her sorrows.

and when summer brings along with it a warmth in the breeze, she takes him—and his sister, and his fairies, and her fairies, and all her other heroes—to a familiar scenery.

a familiar scene, salt water on his face, the beginning of his downfall.

the beginning of his love.

as a hero, his powers are restricted. he has no clue what goes on in the minds of his other selves summoned to other askrs, as he would've if he'd been alive. whether they're as lucky as he is, if they also "get the girl"

when night falls, he confesses his dream to her, his eyes still closed. she's quiet for a while, before she asks him about his words, about whether the dream formed his desires.

and when a quiet yes slips from his lips, and he tells her about wanting to be at her side, her smaller hand lightly grasps his own and feels something soft on his cheek, near his lips

"mine too. my desires...as well, since that dream. when you first approached me."

(telling freyja results in a tantrum from her and an attempted deescalation that his beloved takes far too much glee in.

by week 3, his sister pouts when he expresses his affection for his lover and mixes salt in her coffee, but there remains no malice in her actions.)