Judgment
The next few hours passed in a confusing blur. Sif, Loki, and I were each questioned by Odin separately about what had happened at the stables. Aizerue was present for my interview, partially to help me stabilize after having overextended myself yet again during the combat, and also to determine whether I had any part in exacerbating the situation or if I had done everything I could to help. I felt vaguely guilty, unsure if the confrontation had been partially my own fault somehow, but by the time we were done I was reassured that I had done the best I could to contain and control the situation. I caught a glimpse of Sif leaving her own interview, with her head held high and a brightness to her eyes that made me wonder how much she’d been found at fault for.
I was allowed to return to our suite to rest for a little while. I’d expected questions and maybe some teasing or criticism, but the mood was solemn and quiet. Scathsa and Laharu invited me into the sauna, and I accepted, grateful for the chance to relax in my native form. As I dozed, Laharu checked my aetheric pattern and helped ease some of the stress I’d put on my system, and by the time I was woken I felt completely recovered.
Our entire party was called to the smaller throne room in the late afternoon. I stood in the front of our group next to Aizerue, once again wearing an illusion of armor as my second replacement set was still being fabricated. On the other side of the aisle, Loki, Sif, Frigga, and Thor’s other warrior friends were gathered. Although the Warriors Three were clustered as far from Loki as they could get, I noticed that Sif was standing by his side. There were a few other Aesir present who seemed to be representatives of various sorts, but aside from this small audience, the only other people in the huge hall were what seemed like every guard in the palace, and probably a few more squads from other areas of the city.
Thor himself stood alone in the center of the aisle, stripped of his cape and ceremonial armor and with his hands cuffed together before him, his aura a churning mix of conflicting emotions. As one of the representatives recited a list of public grievances against him he remained impassive, though his expression bordered on sullen.
I had expected there to be more ceremony, but after the charges were read Odin thumped his spear on the dais. He stood up as the ringing echoes died, looking more weary than I could have imagined.
“Thor Odinson,” he said, staring down at his heir. “You are found guilty of endangering the lives of innocents, the peace of Asgard, and the future of all Aesir. You chose to make a reckless, violent attack against your own brother, based on incomplete evidence and your own prejudices. You were given more than one opportunity to reconsider and take a more tempered path, and you rejected that wisdom at every turn.
“Through your actions today, you have publicly demonstrated your unworthiness as heir to the throne of Asgard. For your crimes, I, Odin Allfather, will take from you your titles, your powers, and your status as citizen of Asgard, and exile you to another realm. If you learn wisdom in weakness, humbleness in isolation, you may someday be allowed to return—or you may live out the shortened life of a mortal in foolish arrogance.”
During his speech a ripple of shock passed through the crowd, and even spread among the waiting guards. The stoic facade of Thor’s expression crumbled into dismay. A second thump of Gungnir on the floor silenced the murmurs. “Bring him to the Bifrost gate,” Odin said, and a group of guards stepped forward, surrounding the ashen-faced Thor.
We were all loaded into several skybarges and towed out to the roaring edge of Asgard, where the ocean waters fell endlessly into the starry void, but only five people entered the round-roofed, gilded chamber—Heimdall, Aizerue, Loki, Thor, and Odin, carrying the hammer Mjolnir in one hand and the spear Gungnir in the other. We watched in silence as the Bifrost was activated and a beam of light speared out somewhere into the void for a few minutes before fading away. Only four people emerged from the building.
Back at the palace, the crowd of observers disembarked onto the throne room platform, talking quietly. Odin’s entourage immediately marched away, withdrawing from the situation without any further answers or discussion. Loki stood alone on the edge of the group, scanning the room. His gaze flicked to me and lingered for a moment, then he turned to walk away. I glanced at Aizerue, who nodded once, and followed the Jotun down a hallway. I felt the brush of an aetheric query as he affirmed my identity before he slowed down, allowing me to match pace with him.
We walked silently through the corridors of the palace for some time, through sections that were unfamiliar to me. As we walked he wove a shroud of invisibility over us, seeming to do it almost reflexively, as if he was acting in his sleep. He led me up several long stairways, past alcoves that housed some of the palace’s defense systems, either trusting me not to take advantage of the tactical information or completely unconcerned with the possibility.
Somewhere near the top of the palace, we reached a small observation balcony. It felt disused and almost abandoned, despite being as clean and well-maintained as the rest of the palace. Loki walked to one of the benches and sat down, staring out at the landscape shown through the wide windows. I hesitated for a minute before following and seating myself beside him. We watched the sunlight fade from the spires of Asgard, the giant torches along the promenade of statues flaring to life as a constellation of lights were kindled across the city. With a quiet command, the only word he’d spoken since returning from the Bifrost, Loki shut off the lights in the viewing room. Shadows gathered and deepened around us.
“I didn’t want this.” His voice was barely more than a whisper in the stillness of the room. “They think that I engineered this somehow, or influenced Odin’s decision, to get Thor out of the way of the throne. But I don’t…” I tried to think of something to say, but before I could come up with anything he continued.
“All our lives, father kept telling us that we were both born to be kings, but we always knew that only one of us could rule—and everybody knew it would be Thor. All our lives, I watched as Thor refused to pay attention to the lessons of governance that we were taught, while I excelled. No matter how well I did, no matter what I did… by the simple accident of his birth, he would be a king someday. And all our lives, I heard our father’s voice—we were both born to be kings, but if only one of us could be king and it was already decided that it would be Thor… what did that leave for me?”
Loki stood up and paced restlessly. I couldn’t see him as more than a silhouette, but his aura blazed with intense, confused emotions.
“I love Thor. He is my brother, he is—a good person, in his way. He has a good heart. But that’s not enough to be a good king. He cares about Asgard, he wants to do the right thing, but he won’t stop and think, he won’t listen. I believe today was the first time father had no choice but to face the fact that his heir is truly unfit to rule.”
He paused, staring out over the city with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And now, I have to face the fact that… I don’t want it.” Turning back to face me, I could barely see his smile in the shadows, full of self-mockery. “Endless responsibility, difficult decisions—it’s not all ceremonies and luxury. That’s what Thor never understood, could never see in the warm glow of his carefully nurtured fantasies. It means doing painful things for the good of the realm… that’s why father made me come and watch as he cast my brother out.”
His shoulders slumped and he sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I want any more,” he said tonelessly. “Until—unless—father can figure out some way to bring Thor back and make him acceptable to the people he offended today. I was born to be a king, but I never really believed that I would someday have to be one.”
The churning patterns in his aura had been stabilizing as he spoke, and were now almost as still as usual. I couldn’t help thinking that I should find some way to take advantage of the situation, to exploit the vulnerability he was showing me for my people’s interests, but the idea made me feel vaguely nauseous.
As I debated how to respond, Loki smiled at me, as if seeing me for the first time since Thor’s brief trial. “I apologize,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “It’s rather outside the scope of my diplomatic duties to drag you away and spend an hour ranting and whining at you.”
I snorted and shook my head. “I followed you willingly. It seemed that you needed someone to listen for a while, but I don’t consider that to be part of my own—diplomatic duties.”
“Then why did you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.
I struggled with myself for a moment, then shrugged. “I thought you needed… a friend.”
Surprise flashed across his face for a moment, along with a bright yellow burst in his aura. His expression cleared almost immediately, but the yellow streaks took several more minutes to fade. “I… thank you,” he said. He hesitated, then sat down again next to me, and we watched the lights of Asgard in companionable silence, green tendrils of his aura wrapping slowly around me like drifting vines.