Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sif gripped the hilt of her sword tighter, but only out of habit. It would be useless in the challenge to come and there were no enemies to fight on the peaceful road that lay before them, winding through the thick forests of Vanaheim, Frigga's childhood home.

“I am ready, my Queen,” Sif said, pressing her fist to her chest in devotion.

“In that case I am no longer your Queen,” Frigga told her with a subtle smile.

And so their journey began. Frigga led Sif through the forests, far from civilization. Wide roads of fine stone turned to narrow dirt paths. They passed beyond the palaces and cities, the villages and even the hidden covens of secretive witches, to tread in the wild places beyond.

Periodically, Frigga would stop and shed the layers of her station. She let down her hair, left fine ornaments to rest in the soft dirt by the road, hung her breastplate from a branch and left it behind. She removed her shoes to walk barefoot in the dirt, then finally the elegant Asgardian gown (one of many Sif was so used to seeing her in) was cast aside as well, leaving her in a thin white robe of simple cloth that fell loosely around her form.

Now so much more free, her hair flowed around her face. She trailed her hands to the side of her as she walked, stroking the passing breeze with her fingertips, as if to become one of the birches at their sides - fingers as the yellow leaves rustling in the wind. Queen no more. Not wife, not mother, perhaps not even witch – only woman, and soon not even that.

Sif noted the change in her but could not bring herself to follow yet. Her armour stayed firmly in place, her beloved sword by her side. But she knew at some point, she would have to let go. She’d asked for this, to share in this sacred time of women and wolves where men dare not tread. To enter into the wolf-time and live in their spirit. And perhaps to retain a fragment of it upon their return. 

After walking a full two days they came to a clearing at last. The white barked trees formed a circle around the soft dirt and thin grasses under their feet. A fire pit lay in the middle, a remnant of ceremonies past.

“Your turn,” Frigga said.

Sif nodded, still a bit hesitant. It was time to shed the warrior she clung to so dearly. This concept of self that defined her, protected her, allowed her to protect others. But also thing that kept the wolves at bay. There was no place for that here and now.

She laid down her armour at the edge of the woods and set her sword by its side. Then she donned a simple robe similar to the one Frigga had chosen. Together they built a fire, piling up sticks and branches, which Frigga lit with a flame from her hand.

After that, they sat by the fire, facing one another and Frigga took Sif’s hands in her own.

“Now we wait,” Frigga said.

“What if they attack us?” Sif worried.

“They will, at first,” Frigga agreed.

“How are we to fight back?” Sif asked, concerned not so much for herself as the woman who in this place she no longer called ‘Queen’.

Frigga shook her head, “We’re not going to fight back.”

Sif took a deep breath and drank in Frigga’s acceptance, letting herself be guided, not by her Queen, but by one who had walked this road many times before and knew the way.

They waited as the flame beside them burned brighter, crackling high into the air, keeping all creatures away. Eventually, the fire dimmed to glowing embers and sent great wisps of smoke up into the darkening night. They listened to its dying wheeze, the last separation between them and the wild that lay all around them, until only the sound of their breathing remained.

It was then that the wolves came.

First the living – a flurry of fur and colour, white and black and grey. They growled in the darkness, surrounded them, tearing at their thin garments and nipping at their flesh.

Still calm as their tattered clothes slipped from their bodies, they paid no mind to the blood and bite marks that now marked their skin, nor the tongues that came after to lick their wounds clean as the pack accepted them.

Next came the dead. Howls rushed out of the trees and lupine forms swelled up from the dirt below. Wolves billowed out of the smoke and even shimmered down from the star light above.

Living and dead, the wolves danced around them, welcoming them into their group, inviting them into their dance. The wolves bayed their song into the night, and the two who were once Warrior and Queen joined them, crying out to the sky above and losing themselves as last.

The wolves began to skirmish and fight for position. In union with them, the two rolled and tousled with each other on the ground. Wolf-Frigga claimed the victory, pinning the once-Sif under her, waiting for a yield that came with a whimper of submission.

Battles concluded, the wolves around them licked and consoled one another. The Sif-wolf sighed as the Frigga-one stroked her hair gently, nuzzling into her neck. Bonded.

Then the living wolves fell into their rut and for a time the two became lovers. They howled their ecstasy to the heavens, mouths and bodies entwined.

Last came the hunt as the dead gave chase to a deer of pure light. Ethereal as it bounded out of the smoke, the wolf-Frigga grabbed hold of its antlers and the Sif-wolf sank her teeth into its undying flesh. A meal for all.

Sated at last, the pack rested.

With the dawn, when Sif awoke, she was herself again. The events of the previous night were fresh in her mind, but seemed distant, like a waking dream. Frigga still lay sleeping in the dirt when Sif roused her with a hand on her blood stained shoulder. 

"My Queen. Are you alright?" 

Frigga stirred, then sat up slowly and smiled at her warmly (and a bit sadly). "I'm very well. Though, I supposed its time to take up our titles once more. And you Sif?"

"Very well," Sif told her, knowing it would not be the last time she would walk this path now that it was known to her. 

"Then I suppose," Frigga said, picking up a strip of the tattered remains of their clothing and restoring it to it's original state with a single thought, "we should be on our way back."

"Yes," Sif nodded with a sigh, reluctant to leave the sense of tranquility that seemed to permeate everything around them. 

Frigga knew at once what she was thinking, "There's no rush."

Sif smiled. 

They lingered long on their return, picking up their armour, weapons and finery. But also stopping often to gaze into the trees, smell the air and listen... for the wolves, bidding them to return one day.