Chapter 5
ASGARD
Loki had been expecting many things after returning to this life. He had been expecting to have to abide the whining and complaining from both the noble and warrior classes. Neither had disappointed him. He had anticipated the Advisory Council trying to lean on him to see things their way…they quickly learned he was neither amused nor indulgent to their pathetic attempts at manipulation.
He was not expecting to look up from the paperwork that he was sorting on his desk in his formal study to see four figures covered in mud from head to toe enter. Sif was glaring at him as if it was entirely his fault. Or perhaps the glare was from the fact that he immediately started cackling. He may have been responsible for the heavy rain but not the mud. It was, however, a delightful bonus.
She jabbed a finger at him. “You did this.”
He let his amusement slowly fade, not even glancing at Sif as he asked, “Did I?”
Her eyes narrowed and flashed in rage. “You cursed the weather.”
“I’m not the one titled the God of Thunder, be careful in your accusations, Sif.” Not that he couldn’t have told her the truth but he just didn’t feel like it. “Consider it idle curiosity but what happened?”
Fandral was as still as a statue, not wanting to move and dislodge anything. “A mud slide.”
That caught Loki’s attention and he leaned back to watch them in amusement. “How in the nine were you involved in a mudslide on cobblestone?”
The blond swordsman’s brow furrowed slightly. “The walkways don’t maintain stone throughout the city.”
Volstagg sighed and a chunk from his beard fell to the floor where it splattered. “It would be more accurate to say the road turned slippery and we couldn’t avoid a large puddle at the base.”
Loki was fastidious by nature and fought not to cringe. “I asked for you to gather details for the immediate area, not to travel to the neighboring providences.”
Sif gestured wildly, sending mud in every direction in her wake. Loki was quick to throw up a barrier in front of him. “We were still within the capital.”
Slowly Loki narrowed his eyes. “You are creating needless work for the servants.”
“You could…” She searched for a word for a moment before settling. “…poof it away.”
“Whores perform tricks and I am not one.” She didn’t even attempt to disguise her actions, rolling her eyes at him like a child. Loki growled softly at her continued lack of respect. “I do not care about your irritation. I am not about to abide you and yours forgetting your manners and falling back on old habits.” She huffed and glanced away, crossing her arms. Loki turned his attention to the others and asked, “Where were you?”
Hogun had remained silent all this time. Now he crossed carefully to a large map on the wall and indicated an area of Asgard only a couple of miles from the palace. “This general area, sire.”
“Why in Hel…” Loki spoke almost to himself, his finger of his right hand tapping his lip as he puzzled through the situation. “Is there anything about this area that would logically coincide with this pavement choice?”
Volstagg glanced down to hide his frown. “It’s the outer circle of the capital, sire.”
Loki looked at all of them. “Clarify.”
Fandral pulled his shoulders back slightly. “The nobles and warriors of distinction are housed closest to the palace, the merchants further than that and most of the commoners live and work in the outer circle.” He didn’t say anything for a heartbeat before asking softly, “You didn’t know?”
“I was the second son.” Loki refused to say anything further about it and Sif was just wise enough not to press further. He was taught politics and diplomacy but the inner workings of the realm were lessons that were reserved for Thor, taught to him by Odin. Loki wasn’t worthy of such attention.
But an ugly picture was developing in Loki’s mind. It stemmed back to a problem that had been brewing for centuries, if not longer. The warriors were granted a higher status, and to a certain extent he could understand that. Their sacrifice should be rewarded. But this denial of even basic utilities like a safe road to travel on for those that weren’t warriors didn’t sit well with him.
Suddenly he needed to move, rising from his desk. He turned away from them to slowly pace, asking to gain their opinions, “What would you say is the first priority?”
“For it to stop raining…”
The trickster froze for a moment to glare at her out of the corner of his eye. “Sif, I am about to waste two hours of my day locating a spell to conjure you your own little black rain cloud to follow you around. Offer something useful or go away and pout.”
Fandral offered a suggestion to hopefully restore the peace. “Opening commerce. Most of the businesses suffer from an inability to get raw materials.”
Loki nodded thoughtfully. “Easy enough to arrange.”
“The buildings away from the palace are in desperate need of repair.”
Which was something that he knew just from looking out the balconies. He crossed back to the desk and moved a few things, searching for the most updated accounts. “Hmm…how in Hel can there be nothing?” His glare turned from the parchment to the walls, thinking if all the gold inlaid within a couple of the rooms were to be stripped it would easily solve Asgard’s monetary issues.
Sif’s eyes widened in alarm and immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion. “Sire, the people can’t survive a tax--…”
In spite of popular opinion he wasn’t a largely material person. He had grown comfortable with the privilege afforded to him but he could care less about frivolous things that didn’t have to do with magic or books. “Don’t concern yourself with it.” Turning his attention to the others. “I need to know how many buildings, the damages, and the costs.”
“It might be more useful if we were to recruit some assistance.”
Loki made a slightly dismissive gesture at Fandral. “Not until we have firmer details. I will make use of your skills for now.”
“You cannot raise the taxes!”
He let the parchment flutter to the desk and crossed his arms as he stared at her. She was about to step on his last nerve and he put serious warning in his voice. “You are not on the Advisory Council, Lady Sif. I do not require your input in this area.”
“Thor wouldn’t--…”
“GUARDS.” Loki all but roared the word, causing everyone to jump back from him. The double doors were flung open, two soldiers appearing with weapons drawn. Their eyes assessed that there were no assassins in the room, looking to their king for guidance. Loki’s upper lip was pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. “Throw her in the cells, I don’t care which one.” They didn’t hesitate and after a moment of stiffening Sif allowed herself to be escorted out. Loki turned his glare to the others. “Anything to add?” If there was anything anyone wanted to say they didn’t mention it. “Good, then you know what I require. You’re dismissed.”
Loki couldn’t remember her name. Tia something or other. It didn’t really matter, anyway. She was one of the courtiers and currently she was before the throne, whining about…something. One of the reasons he wasn’t paying attention to her petition was because he knew she was lying to him.
The other had to do with whatever was going on beyond the double door entrance to the throne room. It wasn’t uncommon to hear very gentle murmurs of waiting petitioners, the thick wood excellent for muffling sound. Yet this was louder. Not quite shouting but it did hint to irritation, even distress from several parties.
Deciding to put him to the test, Loki glanced over and caught Fandral’s eye. The blond warrior surprised him, inclining his head slightly before moving away from the throne for a side corridor the servants used to travel from one end of the palace to the other without being seen.
Fandral wasn’t certain what he would find when he approached the opposite side of the double doors after taking the less public path. He wasn’t expecting to see four sentries using their weapons to force back over a dozen people.
Tightening his jaw, a hand on the hilt of his own weapon, Fandral walked forward with confidence and asked, “What has happened?”
“These commoners will not disperse.”
The largest commoner looked to him, dipping his head slightly in a respectful greeting common between soldiers. “Warrior Fandral…the king’s decree allows for anyone to approach the throne, does it not?”
“Aye.” Fandral nodded and looked back at the sentries, asking incredulously, “You would disobey your king?”
Three of them looked uncertain but not the most forward of the quartet. “He is not my king.”
Fandral recognized him by his family even if he didn’t know the man personally. One of the many sons of Ing. A family of great influence, which would explain why the other three were bowing to his will. A family who fanatically followed Odin and had been eagerly anticipating Thor’s ascension. “You speak treason.”
Ingson stood stiffly but stated his opinion boldly. “He would not even be king were there any other choices present at the time. I would rather follow Lady Sif than he.”
Fandral slowly shook his head, speaking almost to himself. “You would dare utter such things with such impunity.”
Ingson made a scoffing noise. “What can he do? Why would I need to fear a trickster?”
“Indeed. Why would you?” They all turned in the direction the voice came from but saw no one standing there. Then Loki appeared, looking the four over silently for a moment before baring his teeth. “I couldn’t help but overhear.” Loki looked at the other three, asking softly, “Do the rest of you believe the same?”
Ingson didn’t wait for them to stutter out replies. “Stand fast. If we are imprisoned, General Tyr will release us.” After a moment the other three obeyed, their willingness to ignore a direct question all the answer that was needed.
Fandral felt his eyes widen. Loki just slowly crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his bicep lightly with one finger, a contemplative expression crossing his face. One of the commoners, a large man who held the bulk and faded scars of someone from the infantry in his youth, tensed to lunge. But he didn’t when Loki held up that tapping finger, belaying his reaction without saying a word. After another moment Loki glanced at this man who had illustrated a desire to come to his defense. “How useful would a horse be to you?”
The older man looked surprised, but he recovered quickly and replied honestly, “With respect, sire, we did not come here for one of your prized stallions.”
“I understand and your petition will be heard. The question was outside of that.”
After a moment of pause the commoner answered neutrally, “A man can always use a good horse.”
Loki glanced over at the other three male commoners who also gave affirmative answers. “So be it.” The sentries glanced nervously at one another as a trickster grin spread across his face and his eyes flashed a dangerous emerald green. “There are many established punishments for disobedience. You have disobeyed a command from your king…there is no higher crime and I could demand your heads if I chose.” Ingson just his chin out defiantly, his jaw ticking but choosing to remain silent. The rage that had been inspired by her loss filled Loki’s eyes. A rage that had continued to fester all this time. A rage that threatened his sanity and goaded him to continue this destructive path. He now focused that rage on a target. “But I will not. Since you will not be useful to me, you will be useful to them.”
Loki forced open the doors with an agitated wave of his hand a few minutes later. The interior guards were staring in surprise at the scene their king was walking away from. Apparently a group of commoners had come to petition before the throne and had brought four horses with them.
Once word spread of who those horses had been every guard took their duties and the consequences of failure of those duties more seriously.
Tia sputtered as the double of Loki who had been sitting on the throne, the double she had been talking to, faded. He walked past her, pausing to look at her coldly. “I have heard enough. It is neither my interest nor my responsibility to cater to your whims of larger, grander accommodations. Find a new lover with a more privileged suite to your liking or be content with what you have been given.” He continued walking up the steps, talking to her over his shoulder. “Now get out. I have more important people with actual problems to hear.”
Sif looked up from the cot she sat on when the Warriors 3 approached her cell. It was, in fact, the same lit cell that Loki had occupied once upon a time. Only it had been cleaned of everything save for a simple cot for her to sleep on. Fandral was the one who spoke first with a shake of his head. “That was not your most brilliant moment, Sif.” They all knew comparing Loki to Thor was a guaranteed way to cause the trickster to lose his temper.
She crossed her arms and ignored him. “Has the culprit for the missing gold been found?”
The blond warrior shook his head ever so slightly, answering her question with the true cause for the empty gold vault. “The repairs to the palace started by Lord Odin bled out the reserves.”
Sif closed her eyes for a moment with a pained expression before asking with resignation and anger, “How much is he going to bleed from the citizens?”
He ignored her question. “He posted in the square. The palace doors have been opened to any petitioner to come forward with a need.”
She blinked at him in surprise, asking without thinking, “Anyone?”
“Anyone.” Now Fandral answered her previous question. “He’s…he’s paying for it himself. And we both know that’s not something Thor would have done.”
“Thor isn’t greedy.”
Fandral reminded her with a simple statement, “But he would take the advice of the Advisory Council and the nobles.” People who were far more interested in lining their own pockets than worrying about citizens who would always be poor. It wouldn’t have occurred to him to use what was inherited from his father.
Sif huffed and glanced down, her brow furrowed as conflicting emotions once more tried to surface. Loki wasn’t acting or reacting the way she believed he would. The boy who had chopped off her hair and turned it black she saw as a petty, cruel, spoiled brat. Over the years she hadn’t seen any improvement in his disposition. His actions of late stemmed from a nature that vastly contrasted her impressions of that child. “When am I to be released?”
Fandral crossed his arms and refused to look at her. “He hasn’t said.”
“He’s going to leave me to rot.”
A slight frown crossed the blond warrior’s face as he asked, “Would you have spoken in such a manner to the All-Father?”
Sif sniffed lightly, dismissive. “He’s not Lord Odin. He’s Loki.”
“He’s our King.” Fandral was near to snarling before he stormed away.
She blinked after him in surprise. She’d never seen such a reaction from Fandral and asked after he was out of sight, “What in Hel is wrong with him?”
The two men glanced at one another but it was Volstagg that responded, “Loki announced his decree to entertain the need of commoners and posted in the square his decision to allow any to come before him. Several of the guards disobeyed and barred the citizens from entering.”
Not that Sif was surprised. Nobles and elected officials came before the throne. Commoners spoke to those people to represent their interests, usually with a small bribe. Loki allowing anyone before the throne was an act that had no past precedent and those nobles would no doubt be displeased with the loss of that side income. “Your point?”
It was Volstagg’s turn to look surprised. “Would any of the men dared to defy Thor’s orders? Ever? Loki is king yet he is openly defied.”
Sif quietly mulled that over before nodding reluctant in agreement. She glanced at the other cells around her, all of them empty. “I’m surprised they didn’t join me.”
“He was furious. He cursed them into beasts of burden in front of their replacements.”
She thought to blurt out her disbelief but forced the words back. But it left her wondering just how powerful Loki truly was if he was capable of reducing men to beasts. “No doubt that will stifle their rebellion.”
“If mere guards will pick and choose what orders they will obey how will the warriors respond?” Hogun spoke with quiet grimness but it sobered both Sif and Volstagg. “You know how opportunistic some of the realms are. If an assassin comes that hesitation could kill him.”
Volstagg nodded in Fandral’s direction. “Fandral takes the duty of guarding his king seriously.”
Hogun stood a little straighter. “We have all chosen to be on hand in case there is need of us.”
Sif nodded after a pregnant pause, struggling to think of something to say before settling, “Thor would have wanted it.”
Volstagg frowned a bit as he seemed to debate something. In the end he chose to say nothing and followed the path Fandral took. Hogun stayed a bit longer, his face set in the grim expression that she was used to seeing. But there was something in his dark eyes that spoke of a decision that had been made, his tone full of conviction. “I do not know why Loki arranged for our presence in the throne room the day King Odin died, but I am certain it was him. But whatever he had been planning no longer matters. We are not merely waiting in the presence of a younger brother for Thor’s return. Even if Thor returns, who our liege is will not change.” He took a step closer to her cell. “Your words and your actions dishonor yourself, Sif. You swore your loyalty.”
Sif stiffened, feeling defensive. “I do what he says. I may not be pleased but I follow his commands.”
Hogun glared at her, stifled passion filling his voice as it rarely did. “Loyalty is not merely a hollow act. It is a word. It is a gesture. A belief and a conviction. You follow him as shallowly as the rest. You shame yourself.” Sif jerked back as if slapped. Hogun ignored her, solemnly staring her down before walking away. “I do not guard him for Thor. I do so for Asgard.”
The Warriors 3 hadn’t returned, giving her time to herself. Time to do little more than think and pace. She was not one to fear enclosed spaces but she felt boxed in. Caged. “These cells are so small…”
Loki spoke from behind her as he appeared, stretched out on her cot. “Hmm…after two days you say such. Imagine spending almost a year here.”
Sif whipped around, a sharp retort on her tongue but she swallowed it a second later. The only thing she could think was that he was completely unaware of how tired he looked. His skin was paler than normal and there were dark circles forming under his eyes. The question she voiced was quiet and without heat, “What do you want, trickster?”
His lips twitched in amusement, as if embracing the familiarity of her agitation and disrespect. “Still no manners…or no self-preservation. At the moment it’s unclear the cause.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him. “I will not beg for forgiveness.”
Loki slowly shook his head. “No, of course not. You actually giving me the minimum of respect my rank deserves would be far too reasonable a response.”
“How did you enter here?”
“Magic.” She made a sound of disbelief and he just shrugged it off. “Scoff as you wish but considering some of my skills it’s not nearly as difficult for me as it would be for most.” Her eyes widened as she watched him stick his hand through the solid wall.
“How?”
He retrieved his hand and glanced at her, almost looking down his nose at her. “AEsir are narrowed minded creatures who think in three dimensions. Neither this wall nor the ground or ceiling are contained by this ward.”
Sif felt her eyes widen. This was the exact same cell he’d been condemned to after his defeat on Midgard. He’d spent months down here, in a cage that obviously can’t contain him. “Then you could have escaped at the moment of your choosing.”
He tilted his head a little, looking amused. “It would defeat the purpose of being caught if I did that.”
“You--…” Her eyes widened as she cut herself off.
Loki continued speaking as if oblivious to her reaction. “Not to mention I do still have the Casket of Ancient Winters in my possession. So yes, I could have freed myself at the moment of my choosing.”
“Then why would you not act against the Dark Elves??”
He sat up after a considering moment and asked, “Why would I? You, all of you, proved the extent of your loyalty where I am concerned.” Her face contorted but he didn’t give her time to comment. “In times of crisis prisoners may be freed to earn back their honor yet no one thought to do so with me. Why? Because no AEsir believes I understand the concept of honor. You all believe that I would simply disappear at the earliest convenience and gleefully leave you to your fate.”
“Would you not?”
Loki actually wasn’t certain how he would have reacted at the time. He had still been furious with Odin and the lie that his life had been. But he wouldn’t have wanted Frigga or Thor killed, in spite of that anger. He probably would have stayed to ensure their success. It was the after that was truly unknown. “The past is precisely that so what might have been matters not.”
Sif sighed softly. “How long will I remain here?”
“That depends on you. As thrilling as some of our discussions have been I no longer have a tolerance for your attitude. You’ve become a bitch, a shrill harpy, and I tire of it.”
It took effort for her not to sharply retort. Instead she buried it and asked slowly, “You expect me to offer you words of remorse?”
“No. Because that would be an intelligent course of action. I expect you to stubbornly cling to your pride and wallow in the dungeon, spouting rants and insults of the injustice that has occurred that your precious Thor would never subject you to.” Loki pushed himself to his feet. “You and your little friends and the rest of Asgard have made it quite clear over the years that I am not Thor. Nor Odin. That I can never aspire to be even a fraction as great. So be it.” He stepped towards her, a growl entering his voice. “I refuse to continue to reshape myself into a warrior, a prince, or a king that you and small-minded fools like you will accept. If I have to fill the rest of these cells with the warriors who will no doubt be just as disrespectful as yourself if not worse then I shall.” He glanced around at the cell that would be her home for the time being. “You will remain here until you choose to respond. Either you will learn to curb your tongue or you will choose to leave my company.”
“You would…strip me of my status…?”
His eyes moved slowly up and down her body as he stepped closer, invading her personal space. “Tempting and I am certainly enjoying the visual but that is not entirely what I meant. If you say nothing you remain here. If you choose to apologize and maintain your vow then you may return to work. If you choose to leave it will be a physical departure from Asgard and I will kick your ass down to Midgard personally.” She opened her mouth and he was quick to warn her, “Do not choose that possibility with haste, Lady Sif. If I banish you to Midgard there will be no retracting it for I will never return your immortality.” Her eyes widened as she took a step back from him and her mouth closed with a click. “If you go to Earth, even if Thor returns to Asgard with you in tow you die a human.” Sif couldn’t think of anything to say. She only knew with certainty that he was serious. Loki turned to look out. “Guard.”
Like all the palace staff recently, the guard was quick to make an appearance. “Sire?”
Loki stood just a little taller, glancing back at Sif even though he wasn’t talking to her. “Lady Sif may wish to respond at a time of her choosing. Until then give her something to entertain her and listen for her decision.”
“Should--…” The guard had been about to offer lowering barrier. He trailed off to stunned silence as he watched his king melt through the floor of the cell and reappear next to him. Sif’s eyes were just as wide.
Loki ignored them both. He had plans to implement and a minion to hire. He was looking forward to an end to this life. “Think carefully, and make a decision you can live with.”
Author's Notes:
So sorry for the lack of updates. Life has been...heavy. But there's finally a light at the end of the tunnel.
I was also struggling with this chapter.
Next:
A slightly better attitude; the dead are voyeurs (eewwww)