Beta
[Asgard – The Great Hall]
The missive was clear.
You are to attend the great hall immediately.
Those were the words uttered by the courtiers of the court. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that the request was rather abrupt and strange.
Loki had fallen, his mother was on quivering ends, and his father was distraught. Yet, something had changed within a single moon.
Without realising it, he soon found himself standing in front of the arched golden doors that would lead him into the great hall. He let a sigh loose before pushing the doors open. His red cape fluttered as a gentle breeze brushed against his every step.
“Father,” he said abruptly as he stepped forward. But then he found himself coming to an abrupt stop. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sif and the Warriors Three apprehensively standing in the centre of the hall. Their expression of concern and discomfort was evident as they fidgeted and glanced around. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked. His voice was coarse, and aggressive as his muscles tensed. His gaze shifted towards the centre stage where his father was seated on the Throne.
“If that tone of yours can’t be kept in check, I suggest you leave and return,” Odin replied uninterestedly as he turned his gaze to the left.
Immediately, Thor realised that they were not alone.
On the rarest occasions, they would be seen together. They were Council members with their own daily tasks. To see them today, Thor realised that something was verily wrong.
“It seems, the crown prince is still up to his usual tricks,” the man he knew as Lord Tyr answered.
He was dressed in armour, much like Thor. But unlike Thor’s shiny armour, the old man was drenched in dried blood. Thor knew the stories well, after all, he was the one who taught him the warriors’ life.
The greatest general Asgard has ever seen… he who carries the weight of the departed on his very armour, he mused quietly. “Tyr,” Thor started.
“Boy,” the man he knew as Lord Slothi, the Lord of Justiciar answered. “You forget common protocol,” he sneered as he relaxed his muscles. His tunic of white and gold relaxed and oozed as he sank into his seat. “This is the court after all… title is important.”
“Then you will do best to remember that I am the crown prince,” Thor sneered.
Tyr laughed.
“And what is funny?” Thor hissed venomously as his fists tightened.
“That you would call yourself the crown prince… when you have chosen a life that takes you away from the path of being King,” answered the man he knew as Lord Mimir, the Lord of Public Relations with a small smile. “A Crown prince is not just a mere title that can be chosen, and readily given up at will. Nei… tis a title for those that will pursue kingship.”
“How dare you?” Thor screeched as he stepped forward. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sif’s and the Warriors Three’s eyes bulging in retort.
“Enough,” Odin roared as he pressed Gungnir gently against the marble floor. The smallest shockwave was emitted as his gaze hardened.
“Father,” Thor implored.
“Lady Asny, the secretary of the council will now begin the procession,” Odin answered as he ignored Thor. He turned to face Lady Asny and smiled. “Please begin,” he added softly.
“Hem hem,” she answered as she stepped forward. “Please refrain from interrupting me till I am finished,” she continued. Though with the way her gaze lingered on Thor it was clear that the missive was directed towards him. “The Warriors Three and Sif face penance for failing the court. Namely, failing Asgard’s royal family.”
“Blasphemous,” screeched Thor as lightning crackled at his fingertips. He attempted to step forward but found that he could not move. Instead, vines of green had fastened around his arms and legs. “What is the meaning of this?” he roared as he attempted to unsheathe himself.
“Men,” Lady Herkja, the Lady of Agriculture answered. “It’s my doing,” she added with a gentle smile. “Lady Asny was clear that one must not interrupt her… and you did… and until I see otherwise, you will be confined in such a state.” She turned to face Lady Asny. “Please continue, Dear.”
“Thank you,” she answered with a smile before turning to face Sif and the Warriors Three. “Let’s attempt to do this… in a professional manner,” she said soothingly as her strained face turned into a state of deadly seriousness. “Do you plead guilty?”
“We did the right thing,” Sif answered sternly. “If we didn’t do what we did, Loki would have destroyed Jotunheim?”
“And now, you suddenly care about Jotunheim,” chorused a woman known as Lady Tola, Lady of the Treasury, from the back benches. “Where was that care when you followed the disgraced firstborn into Jotunheim?” she asked callously as she ignored Thor’s wince. “Where was your sense of pride to serve the nine realms then when you ventured into their sovereign land where you began a war? A war that was caused by your actions… yours only. Not Loki’s, but yours.”
SIf’s bones were shaking as her breathing grew frantic. Fear and panic surmised her mood well when she realised that this was no mere court. Decisions and conclusions had been reached, and they were merely part of the conversation for formalities’ sake.
It was desperation, and she wasn’t sure what came over her. “He’s a Frost Giant,” she screeched as she ignored the Warriors Three and Thor’s bulging eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snarled before facing the court. “We all know the stories. The stories of how those filthy beasts were used as a lure to get children to sleep.”
She expected a response. She expected someone to shout and scream, but even she couldn’t fathom the great General’s speed. Immediately, the gap between them had closed. His hand had found her throbbing throat. Her vision blurred as black dotted spots began appearing.
“Tyr,” roared Thor venomously.
“Silence,” he responded menacingly. He watched with pleasure as Thor retreated to the confines of the many vines that wrapped and coiled at his body. “Listen carefully,” he whispered to Sif before turning his gaze towards the Warriors Three. He could see the subtle shift in their posture. His gaze hardened as his eyes danced. Almost, imploring them to make a move towards him. A moment passed and he found his lip curling upwards as he turned to face Sif once more. “Asgard pays homage to the citizens of Alfheim and Vanaheim… I do not know where your bigotry and racist fascist remarks come from, but we will not condone such actions.”
“Tyr,” Lady Asny said soothingly. “That is enough,” she continued as her gaze turned from Tyr to Sif.
As his hands loosened, Sif grabbed her own throat and began rubbing against it. Her breathing grew tenfold as she stared at the man she once called teacher.
Immediately, Tyr’s gaze shifted upon Hogun. He could see the immediate flinch in his posture. “Before you say something,” he continued with his laced icy tone as he pointed his index finger towards him. “Let me remind you… You are no Asgardian… you are Vanir. Keep that tongue intact, wise Hogun or I shall cut it, and have it fed to your children in a bowl of soup,” he said darkly. “Asgard home’s no fascist,” he added as he walked to the side.
Lady Asny couldn’t help but smile as her lips curled upward. “Forgive the general,” she added with a serious tone. “The last few moons had been stressful… and quite rightly so,” she continued. “Take your time Sif. I imagine, that throat of yours is a little sore,” she added with a wink as she turned to face Thor. “You disappoint me Prince… you care so much about this… thing, yet not your brother… where did loyalty to blood go?” she murmured as she began pacing around.
“I-” Thor started only to find that he could muster no words. Instead, he found himself closing his mouth shut. His gaze turned to his father in the hopes that he would say something. Yet, there was nothing. There was no reaction. Thor couldn’t help but wonder if he had erred.
“I did not give you leave to speak,” Lady Asny answered Thor as she ignored his strained gasping features. “But fortunately, you have some insight into keeping that loose tongue of yours behind the confines of your mouth,” she continued as she turned to face the Warriors Three. “Maybe… you would want to begin from the beginning, rather than acting like your friend… your degrading friend,” she added with her teeth slightly ajar as her tongue rested on the tip of her teeth. “Explain to me… to the court… why your heads shouldn’t be decapitated and fed to the wretched wolves in the mountains.”
Fandral’s mouth opened and closed. Like Thor, he had a similar trait to speaking before thinking. Yet, against all odds he found himself being silent as he turned to face Volstagg and Hogun.
“Laufey said… there was a traitor amongst the house of Odin,” Hogun answered carefully. He knew that such an accusation had a surreal impact. He expected gasps to flutter throughout the court. Yet, like the others, he stood dumbfounded as the Court members and Odin did nothing but stare.
“You thought Loki had let them in,” Lady Tola murmured dangerously. Her eyes were wide as her towering body leaned forward slightly.
“You believed the words of an enemy… that your own prince was a traitor?” questioned Lord Slothi as he turned his gaze to Thor. “Did you hear that, Thor? They believed the words of Laufey… the very thing you went to slay… that your brother was a traitor.”
“You bring shame upon Asgard,” tutted Lady Herkja as she shook her head. “By gods… these imbeciles.”
“Continue,” Lady Asny sneered darkly.
“The Throne,” Volstagg murmured. Immediately, Hogun’s gaze fell upon him and Volstagg found himself leaning forward as he hid his head.
“You presumed… that Loki had usurped the throne,” Lady Asny noted with a slight gasp. Immediately, she turned to face Odin who was seated on the Throne. “Was Loki given the throne, my king?” she asked even though she knew the answer.
“Yes,” Odin answered in an ominous tone. His gaze hardened as he turned to face Thor, and Thor couldn’t help but recoil in disgust.
“Thank you, my king,” answered Lady Asny as she turned to face Sif and the Warriors Three. She couldn’t help but smirk as they all shared the same look of disparity and despair. “So… it has been established that there was no usurping.”
“We didn’t know,” Fandral answered ever so quickly. The moment the words had left his mouth, he could feel Sif’s and Hogun’s glare deepening.
“Didn’t know?” Lady Asny asked as she began to pace around the quartet. “I didn’t realise… that you are all in high positions within the court. I didn’t realise that you were more than mere… soldiers.”
“We are Thor’s friends,” Volstagg answered firmly. “We did… what we thought was right.”
“And in doing so, you committed the most heinous crime,” Lady Herkja roared. “A crime against the royal family,” she seethed.
“Indeed,” Lady Asny continued. “You are soldiers after all… your duties are towards the king… not Thor.”
“He’s the crown prince,” Hogun answered. “He’s the next in line.”
“Is he?” Odin muttered quietly. Immediately, everyone turned to face his quaking tone. “Is he?” he asked again in a harsher and louder tone as he eyed his son.
A question to me, Thor mused as the stares around him hardened. “Wh… when I fell to Earth… I changed as a person… I… I don’t see myself sitting on the throne,” he answered as he leaned his head forward.
Lady Asny watched as Odin retreated into his seat. She could see the sorrow and sadness that was slowly creeping up on the All-father. “So, you chose friendship over duties,” she mulled darkly as she turned to face Hogun. “How disappointing,” she murmured as she shook her head.
“I raised you better,” Lord Tyr mumbled as he scaled the very armour he wore. “To be warriors… not this,” he continued with a gesture of waving his hand towards them. “Consider this as a statement of fact… you are no longer warriors of Asgard,” he mulled.
“No,” Sif mumbled as she fell to her knees. Panic and fear slowly filled her heart as she fought the brimming tears.
“No?” Lord Mimir asked with his head to the side. “You have cost the king a son… it is a fair trade is it not?”
She gritted her teeth as she could not respond accordingly. Lashing out, “are we going to excuse, that he attempted to commit genocide by wiping out Jotunheim?”
“And finally, we have reached the truth of the matter,” Lord Mimir noted dryly. “The absolute disgust towards the second prince.”
“Sif,” scorned Hogun grimly.
“Enough,” she iterated as she faced the court. “This whole folly is nothing but a sham. We only did what you did. The same way you treated him, is how we treated him. Now that he has died, you grew a desire to care. Where was this care when the name-calling started? The truth is… you felt the same way we did. That he was nothing more than a disgusting piece of sh-.”
“It seems… that you have chosen to die today,” Odin muttered from the throne darkly as he stood up.
Immediately, her body froze as her eyes widened.
His aura was immense as seidr crept into the fabric of time they lived and breathed.
She, like the others, had witnessed the All-father on the battlefield on a few occasions. They had seen his victories. Some involved brute force, but there were others that simply withdrew.
“Wretched scorn,” Odin snarled as Gungnir materialised. Immediately, the council members moved to the side as Odin walked down the dais. His golden armour clambered and jilted as he walked down. “You talk… like you know… but the truth is you don’t,” he snarled as he raised Gungnir.
Immediately, an energy blast was discarded. He could hear Thor’s screams, but he discarded those thoughts as he could see what he could not. Of the Warriors Three, Fandral was always the loose cannon. Acting rashly while employing the trait of not thinking. Fandral’s sword was raised high as it cut through the energy blast which was then dissipated into nothing.
Immediately, in the corner of his eye, he could see Tyr moving towards Fandral. The fierce provocation was short-lived. One moment Fandral was standing with his sword held high, the next, he was on the floor with Tyr’s knee on his back as he held his head high with a sword branded against his neck.
“I wouldn’t try that,” Lord Slothi said as he noticed Volstagg’s and Hogun’s sudden flinch. A mace appeared from within his woven cloth as his jarring teeth gaped.
“Father,” Thor’s voice trembled through the hall. “Please,” he yearned against the ever-so-tight vines that seemed to hold him in place.
“You are but children… compared to what we are,” Odin answered as he turned to face Thor. “And you still haven’t learned… disappointment,” he noted as he turned away. “Release him Herkja. I have no use for a son that cares for traitors.”
“Yes, my King,” Lady Herkja answered as she waved her hand.
Upon release, Thor let a sigh loose as he stumbled and fell on his knee. “Father,” he said as he ignored Sif’s and the Warriors Three’s concern.
“I am your father… I will always be your father… but that is it,” answered Odin as he sat down on his throne seat. “Your friends do not recompense and as such… I do not care. They are to be banished from Asgard’s capital with immediate effect… stripped of their warrior status… and their life is now forfeited to the second prince.”
“Father,” Thor pleaded. “You can not do this,” he shouted. Somewhere along the lines, he found Mjolnir within his palms. Shifting his gaze, he saw his father seated on the throne with a brewing smirk. Surely, they know what goes through my mind, he mused as he turned to face the council members.
“I would not know that,” Lady Asny answered.
“For what is right and just? I would,” answered Thor grimly as he stepped forward.
“You believe… that this action right now… given what has been said and found… that this action right now, is just and right? To let bygones be bygones?” Odin asked as he leaned forward in his chair.
“Yes,” Thor answered.
The effects were immediate. Mjolnir fell. The loud thudding sound shocked Thor. Slowly but steadily, he turned his shaking hand to see the inner palm wretched in red and scars as the helm of Mjolnir caved in.
No.
“You are not worthy,” Odin said sadly as he held onto Gungnir. “Loki was wrong… he was wrong to save you.”
“Save me?” roared Thor as he stepped forward. “He sent the destroyer to kill me!”
“The All-father sees all,” commented Lord Mimir stoically. “Even in his Odinsleep.”
“He saw the treacherous thoughts within your friends… he saw them greatly, and he acted upon it. After all, when facing war… what brother wouldn’t want his brother to fight by his side for the glory of Asgard?” asked Lady Asny.
Thor’s eyes widened at the admission. Loki had tried to save me?
“Even in his death… you think poorly… but do not worry Thor… Sif and the Warriors Three,” Odin murmured darkly as Gungnir powered up.
“Father,” Thor pleaded.
“Do not fret… the means to send you to another realm are no longer at my disposal… but stripped of your titles, you shall be. Nothing more than a commoner, and nothing less than a commoner. Banished to the outskirts of Asgard… you will learn,” Odin mulled darkly as he watched Thor gulp.
Immediately, a burst of energy was released.
Dark matter covered the quint.
Their gasps and screams could be heard for a mere second.
When the particles had dissipated, Thor, Sif and Warriors Three were no longer there. Instead, the great hall was filled with silence.
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[Asgard - Northern Borders]
“Where are we?” Sif coughed and croaked as she stood from the rubble that she and her friends had landed on. “What wretched place are we in now?” her voice screeched.
“We are still on Asgard,” Hogun noted grimly as he could hear squirms of muttering, chanting and screeches from across the clearing. “The dialect is a little off… it’s the northern borders,” he continued as he faced the icy walls that shrouded the mighty city of Asgard.
“So, a week’s walk to the capital,” Sif noted as she pulled Fandral from the ground. “Come,” she commanded.
“Do you think the All-Father would have made it that simple?” Volstagg asked quietly as he stood up with his broad sword planted against the ground. “It would do him no good in sending us to somewhere we are familiar with… not when he intends to punish us.”
“That’s the king you’re talking about,” murmured Fandral as he brushed at the smothering dust etched on his woven clothing. “And look at this… it will take weeks to clean.”
Sif shook her head. Spinning on the spot, she found Thor looking into the distance. “Thor,” she said as she walked towards him. “Your father didn’t mean it. Loki… he’s clouded your father with his –”
Before she could blink, she could feel a searing pain of heat rippling through the side of her face. She couldn’t stop the shock and pain that flourished across her expression as her hand found the side of her face.
“Enough,” Thor said darkly as he recalled his hand to the side.
“Thor,” Volstagg and Fandral shouted.
“Father wasn’t wrong,” Thor said as he looked down at the ground. His arms and legs trembled. He was the God of Thunder, but things were never that simple. His emotions were out of control, so seeing the tepid rain flickering into existence should have been no surprise.
“Thor,” Fandral started.
“That’s enough,” Hogun noted. His gaze followed Thor’s, and he couldn’t help but be surprised.
“Even now, you stand here against the All-father… but not only the All-father, the King of Asgard… but the council members as well as the sworn Einherjar,” Thor said sadly as he looked away.
“Thor,” Sif implored earnestly towards her friend.
“If Loki was that bad… tell me… tell me why the people mourn for him,” he said as he turned to face the clearing. “Tell me,” he asked silently as he fell to his knees with his hands shaking.
Thousands of Asgardians stood side by side against a structured statue of Loki. Thor knew that the statue was new. There was no crack in the marvelled marble and the gold paint seemed to be fresh as the odour of citrus and alcohol seemed to pass. He was more surprised to find that the statue had been painted blue.
He knew that the word of Loki’s heritage had been spread afar by his closest friends. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew it to be the truth. Yet, that thought was insignificant when compared to what he was witnessing. Children, mothers, and fathers cuddled around the smallest of fires that ushered and wavered against the harshest of cold breezes as they held hands and prayed.
“Because… he was never you,” her voice croaked as she walked passed Thor and his friends. Her hands flourished in a wave of green which matched the corset, and pungent leafed skirt that she wore.
“Amora,” Thor ushered as he shook his head towards his friends.
“The All-father seems to think you can be redeemed,” she said stoically with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “He seems to be under the impression that you all can be redeemed,” she continued as her gaze shifted towards Sif and the Warriors Three. “I disagree… but time will tell.”
“Amora,” Thor muttered once more.
Her gaze was fixed on the smallest of fires that she could see from the clearing. “Loki died, thinking he could never be your equal… but you will live, knowing that you will never be his equal.”
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[Asgard – Odin’s and Frigga’s bed chambers]
He found himself seated, looking somewhat like a ghoul. His breathing was gnarly, croaking and wheezing as heaved in and out. The use of Gungnir was toll-taking, but he found that he simply did not care.
“You could have told him the truth, husband,” the Queen said as she walked towards her husband. “We could have told them all,” she added silently.
Odin let a bemused chuckle escape. “How do I tell that boy… and his friends that the reason I treated Loki was not because I hated him or despised him, but because I was scared that he would turn out like his older sister… a sister that even he cannot remember.”
“Yet our youngest did,” the Queen’s voice chorused. Her eyes were tantalising and mesmeric as she found herself seated next to Odin. “Thor might not remember, but Loki does. He wears the same colours as her… he might not remember who she is, but he remembers something, and now, I see, that my son has been banished… again,” Frigga hummed in an unhappy tone as she kissed Odin on the side of his cheek. “Can a mother not rest?” she asked daintily. “Is there no peace for the house of Odin? Or must we quell the very beast that roams within our heart?”
Odin opened his mouth, before firmly closing it. After all, Frigga was not wrong. They were his lies, and his failures alone.
“So, what is next for the great King of Asgard?” Frigga continued soothingly as she rested herself against his chest.
“Frigga,” Odin hummed.
“Do not lie, Son of Borr,” Frigga said as she stroked Odin’s beard. “I know you,” she whispered quaintly. “I see you,” she continued. “I see the path you have set… the path of redemption… the path of restitution… So tell me, what is next?”
Their eyes met each other. Nothing but the sounds of their synced breathing could be heard.
That was, till Odin turned away.
“Jotunheim,” he whispered.