Chapter 4 — The Birth of a Prince
There were moments in the history of Asgard when the Realm Eternal seemed to lean forward, as though the very stones and stars sensed the significance of what was about to occur.
The night Frigga went into labor was one of those moments.
It began quietly too quietly for Odin's liking.
The All-Father's instincts had kept him alive for millennia. They whispered to him even now as he paced along the golden balcony overlooking the city.
Storm clouds had gathered despite no scheduled weather manipulation from the palace's mage-engineers. The air thrummed faintly with magic, not ominous but expectant. Below, the city's lights flickered gently as if bowing in anticipation.
Odin gripped the balcony railing.
"This is no ordinary child…" he muttered under his breath.
He sensed it something stirring in the cosmos, vibrating in harmony with the unborn prince. Something that resonated with ancient Asgardian runes yet did not belong to them at all.
Frigga had sensed it from the first month.
The palace healers felt it.
Even Heimdall, ever watchful, had quietly admitted:
"My king… this child's thread shines far beyond Asgard. I see… light."
Odin had said nothing at the time.
But now, pacing in the cold air, listening to Frigga's distant cries from within the birthing chamber, he felt something tighten in his chest that even he couldn't name.
Pride?
Fear?
Wonder?
Perhaps all three.
---
The Birthing Chamber of the Queens
Inside the palace, Frigga's chamber glowed with soft golden light.
Runes of protection pulsed across the walls. Midwives and healers moved calmly but with reverence this was the birth of a prince, after all. But there was an underlying tension.
No Asgardian child had ever produced magical and physical anomalies in the womb the way this one had.
Frigga lay amidst silken pillows, sweat pearling at her brow, yet her expression was composed, serene even. Her hands rested over her belly as another contraction rippled through her.
A healer to her right, a silver-haired woman named Yddra, whispered gently:
"Your Majesty… breathe. The babe is strong."
Frigga smiled through clenched teeth. "That is what concerns me."
Another contraction. She squeezed the edge of the bed.
"For All-Father's sake… Thor was easier than this."
The healers exchanged looks Thor's birth had nearly ruptured the palace wards. If this one was worse… Then the unthinkable happened.
Light flared from Frigga's abdomen. A blinding, warm, golden light. Yddra shielded her eyes. "What sorcery is this?"
Frigga gasped but did not panic. She placed her palms over her belly as warmth spread through her.
"He is… shining," she whispered in awe.
The flare lasted barely a moment but left the walls shimmering. The healers murmured nervously.
"That was no Asgardian magic," Yddra muttered.
Nor was it a curse. Nor a spell. Nor anything anyone recognized.
It was simply light.
Light that felt like warmth, strength, dawn.
Light that felt like the beginning of something.
---
Odin Arrives
The doors burst open. Odin strode into the chamber, Gungnir in hand though not drawn for battle. His single eye swept the room, sharp as a blade.
"What happened? I felt a surge—"
He saw the soft golden glow still radiating faintly from Frigga's stomach.
"The child," he whispered. "He did that?"
Frigga nodded, breathing slowly as another contraction rolled through her.
"He… reacts to the sun. Even in the womb."
Odin's brows knit together.
"You felt the warmth outside, didn't you?" she murmured through the pain.
Odin nodded slowly. "Yes. I felt… dawn."
Frigga smiled faintly.
"Appropriate, for what grows inside me."
Odin stood beside the bed, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Then let us greet him properly."
---
The Labor Intensifies
Hours passed. More than Odin had expected. More than Frigga had ever endured.
The child was strong too strong.
Every time he kicked, the air trembled. Every time Frigga screamed, golden sparks erupted around her. Every time the healers approached, they were forced to step back as waves of heat rolled off the queen's belly.
By the sixth hour, the palace's protective wards flickered.
By the ninth hour, Odin looked truly worried.
"He is draining you," he murmured, cupping Frigga's cheek.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "He is merely… eager to enter the world."
Another surge of warmth pulsed from her stomach.
Yddra flinched. "My king. My queen. This child's energy is… unnatural."
Odin growled softly, "He is my son. There is nothing unnatural about him."
But even he could not deny the truth. This was a power they had never seen not in Thor, not in Loki, not in any child in all the Nine Realms.
A power born of sunlight. A power that had begun to grow the moment his soul touched the womb.
---
The Moment Approaches
Frigga's breathing quickened.
Her knees bent.
Her back arched.
Her fingers clenched the linens so tightly the fabric tore.
"It's time," Yddra said.
Healers moved to their positions. Odin stood at Frigga's side, holding her hand. Her magic stabilized her body, but even that was beginning to strain.
"Push, Your Majesty. Now!"
Frigga pushed with all the force of a queen, magic surging around her. Light burst from her again, brighter than before. The healers shielded themselves from it, yet Odin stood steady, his silhouette illuminated by blinding radiance.
A sound filled the room.
A hum.
A vibration.
A resonance that felt like the sun rising.
And then
A cry.
Not a soft mewl like most newborns. But a powerful, resonant wail that shook dust from the rafters.
Frigga collapsed back into the pillows, tears streaming down her cheeks not of pain but overwhelming joy.
The healers stared at the infant in stunned silence.
---
The Child of Light
The baby boy glowed softly just enough for his skin to appear kissed by sunrise. Tiny golden sparks danced across his chest with every breath.
He was healthy.
Strong.
Radiant.
The midwives approached hesitantly, hands trembling.
"My queen," whispered Yddra, "he is… unlike any babe we have ever seen."
The newborn opened his eyes. Deep gold irises blinked up at the ceiling, reflecting the chamber's light like miniature suns.
Frigga's breath caught.
"Oh, my beautiful boy," she murmured.
Odin stepped closer, awe creeping into his stern features.
He took the child from the midwife's trembling hands and held him carefully. The baby did not cry. He gazed up at Odin with calm, unblinking golden eyes.
Odin felt something stir in him.
He had held Thor at birth and had felt the thunder rumble faintly around him.
He had held Loki when he was a baby and had sensed illusions flickering like mischievous sparks.
But this child… He felt warmth.
Strength.
Light.
Dawn.
A power that was not magic nor thunder nor trickery. A power that belonged to no race Odin knew. A power that felt… ancient.
The baby reached up with a tiny hand and touched Odin's beard.
Odin's stern expression broke into a rare soft smile.
"He likes you," Frigga said with a tired giggle.
"He should," Odin murmured. "For he shall surpass me."
The healers exchanged startled looks but did not dare question him.
---
The First Flare
Just as Odin moved to hand the child to Frigga an unexpected warmth surged in the room.
Not heat.
Not fire.
Light.
The baby's body glowed again brighter than before.
For an instant, golden radiance filled the chamber as though a tiny sun had ignited within. The healers gasped and stumbled back. One of the runes on the wall flickered wildly.
Thunder clapped outside despite the clear sky.
Odin shielded the child instinctively.
The flare lasted barely a heartbeat. But when it faded, Odin felt his pulse racing.
"What… was that?" whispered Yddra, voice shaking.
Frigga closed her eyes, breathing slowly.
"That," she said softly, "is his gift."
Odin frowned. "Gift? Or burden?"
Frigga met his gaze, calm and certain.
"That depends on us."
---
Naming the Prince
Odin placed the glowing infant into Frigga's arms.
She cradled him lovingly, brushing a finger across his cheek. The child leaned into her touch, cooing softly.
The golden light dimmed to a faint aura gentle, warm, peaceful.
Odin kneeled beside her, placing his hand on the baby's head.
"Your power is great, little one," Odin murmured. "May the Norns weave your destiny with wisdom."
He paused, then exhaled slowly.
"In honor of my father, and in hope that you shall one day surpass us all…"
He looked at Frigga.
She nodded, smiling softly.
The All-Father raised his voice slightly not a roar, but a tone of reverence.
"You shall be named Bor."
A hush fell over the room.
"Bor Odinson."
Frigga whispered the name again, letting it rest upon the child like a blessing.
"Bor."
The baby blinked once.
Then smiled.
It was small barely a twitch of lips but unmistakable.
Frigga laughed softly, tears welling.
"He accepts it," she said.
Odin nodded, pride swelling in his chest.
"Then let it be known throughout all the Nine Realms. A new prince is born to Asgard. A prince of dawn."
Thunder rumbled once more outside the palace.
The rays of the morning sun crept across the chamber floor.
The faint golden aura around baby Bor shimmered.
And Asgard welcomed its third prince.
A prince unlike any ever born before.
---
The Prophecy Unspoken
Far from the palace, in the Hall of the Norns, the three weavers paused. The threads of fate trembled. A new strand bright as the sun wove itself into the loom, shimmering with potential so vast even the Norns hesitated.
Urd touched the strand lightly.
"He is powerful."
Skuld frowned. "Too powerful."
Verdandi whispered, "He is necessary."
The loom hummed. The strand glowed. And Bor Odinson's destiny began.
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