From above the washing machine, Freyja found a knife to cut away his ropes. She did it carefully, not wanting to encourage any of his skin to come away at the same time. Even dead, Freyr didn't deserve such an indignity.
She needed to get him upstairs, onto his bed, because she didn't want him to wake up alone down here, especially when she had no idea how often he had awoken to that horror. No, never again. He would wake up with her beside him, and with no sign of the thing that had done this. But he was too bent up for her to be able to pull him up the stairs, and too stiff for her to make him walk himself. The spell she had for that required a more pliable body, and it would tear Freyr's apart.
Freyja turned off the machine blasting the Arctic air and then considered, carefully, her brother's body. After a few minutes she realised she only had one viable option that wasn't 'sit here and wait for him to warm up'.
She sighed, standing and walking back up the stairs. On the landing she jolted to a stop: the copy was gone. In the place where the fake Freyja had been there was now nothing at all, and Freyja could feel no presence in the building. But when it had looked like Freyr it had felt like Freyr, and maybe now that it looked like Freyja it was possible she wouldn't be able to feel it. Or maybe it had no feelings of its own, only stealing that from others.
Freyja moved through every room of the house to seek it out, but it wasn't waiting and hiding. It was gone and, unfortunately, not dead. That she would have to deal with later.
In Freyr's bedroom, Freyja took a mental snapshot of everything she saw, placing it into a fully formed image in her mind.
Returning downstairs, she kneeled beside her brother's body and held her hand in front of her, palm flat as though pressed against an invisible wall. She drew all of her concentration and will into a tight ball that gathered beneath her heart and began chanting, forcing her will to travel up through her heart, through her lungs, through her throat, into her tongue, into her words. She let each chanted breath follow out and then she pursed her lips and blew in the direction of her hand.
The portal that opened was small and thin. It was a pathetic thing that would not hold for long, but on the other side of it shimmered Freyr's bed. Continuing to chant, Freyja pushed his body through the glowing purple and green lights and once she saw him hit the bed, she dropped the magic.
For a long time Freyja just sat on the floor of the basement, getting her energy back enough to stand. The portal she had prepped for Merlin had been a thing she spent all night setting up, and (while exhausting) it would only have needed a few words on this end to make it appear. This had been a portal created fully in the moment.
The cooling machine would need to move into the bedroom. She didn't want to keep him frozen, but she wanted to keep the room cool enough. She hoped he didn't require much magic from her until he returned, because Freyja had used most of hers up today.
The vardøgr she would seek another day, but for now she would watch over her brother.