Chapter 6
ASGARD
Sif slipped into her spot along the table with an ease that spoke of familiarity. The servants were quick to appear with plates of food, she and the others waiting. Six months now they had been taking meals with the king of Asgard. This all still felt surreal but she’d learned to curb her tongue. It would be more accurate to say that she learned to just keep her mouth shut. Surprisingly as the months had passed her urge to constantly question Loki’s every order and decision had faded. She refused to inflate his ego any bigger than it already was by admitting it out loud but on rare occasions she even found him a brilliant king.
She felt a twinge as she sometimes did of the reminder. Six months ago had been Odin’s funeral rites, yet Thor still hadn’t returned. She supposed it was possible Loki hadn’t informed him. But she’d seen the disappointment that had flickered across his face before he’d hidden it during those rites.
Firmly she pushed thoughts of Thor to the side and sipped from her glass. Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg occupied the other spaces, all of them waiting for their king to arrive. Sometimes details over their tasks were discussed during meals but other times it was a casual gathering. Loki appeared with a slightly preoccupied look on his face, sitting at the head of the table at his own place setting.
“Something troubles you, sire?” Sif frowned delicately as she asked.
She still hadn’t quite grown accustomed to calling Loki ‘sire’ but she supposed it was just a familiarity that would grow with time. He certainly hadn’t acted the way she had dreaded he would. She had expected he would commit some unforgivable act that would bring Asgard to ruin while he stood to the side and laughed but the exact opposite was true. All the decrees she knew of were done to Asgard’s benefit.
His personal gold vaults inherited from his father had been opened, he financing the repairs to Asgard. But it had been more than that. Training. Recruiting. He’d hired spell casters from Vanaheim to reinforce the walls surrounding the city and the dwarves to forge weaponry and armor. Commerce had been restored. This was not only an Asgard restored, it was mightier than anyone could remember in recent memory.
At first she and the warriors 3 were certain they were a council in name only. Just an excuse to keep them all together so the trickster could more easily keep an eye on them. But Loki actually listened. He didn’t always follow their advice, but he didn’t dismiss their input automatically.
His green eyes flicked in her direction, expression blank as he answered her question, “A trifle of a matter.”
Sif let it lie for now and concentrated on her meal. She knew he thought he hid it well but there was a war going on behind his eyes. She wasn’t sure where it stemmed from but it set her warrior instincts on edge.
Loki glanced down and stabbed a tomato with a fork, a satisfied smirk curling his lip as it bled for him. Sif was more observant than he gave her credit for and he hastily forced the look off his face. He’d just this afternoon sent his little hired minion to Muspelheim. Now it was just a matter of time before the war would begin. Yet he found himself hesitating before giving the order. He’d done it, of course, but the hesitation was still there.
Something about the conversation still lingered in his mind. His minion had wanted to sell the power source that kept Surtur caged and Loki had given his blessing. What did it matter? But he was having second thoughts about that decision.
Fandral searched his mind for a way to lighten the mood that had settled around Loki. Putting concern in his tone, asking almost without thinking. “Talks with Vanaheim were to your satisfaction, sire?”
Slowly Loki lifted an eyebrow as he replied, effectively distracted. “There is no war pending if that is your concern, Fandral.” The men all sent the adventurer knowing looks while Sif rolled her eyes in disgust.
Fandral was well known for visiting Vanaheim for the companionship. “That was not my intent behind the question!” Loki just looked at him and slowly a dashing smile chased across Fandral’s face as he corrected himself. “Not my only intent.”
Loki purred his words softly. “Of course not.” But an unconscious smirk was teasing the corners of his lips and Fandral considered himself the victor.
Volstagg sighed mightily, looking around him with regret on his face. “I will miss this…”
Fandral frowned as he asked, “What will you miss, Volstagg?”
The rotund man gestured with the turkey drum in his hand at his dining companions. “Eating so companionably, the five of us.”
“Why would you miss that?” Loki asked the question quietly but there was something else in his voice. Something subtle and deadly.
Volstagg continued on, oblivious to the tension that was now vibrating through Hogun. “Our work is completed, Asgard restored.”
Technically Asgard had been fully restored days ago, but Loki continued to point out matters that needed their personal attention. “I was not aware that I ordered a disbanding of your council.” His purr was lethal this time, eyes glowing green as he continued. “But do not feel beholden to keep my company.”
Volstagg opened his mouth to reply, shock on his face a second before Sif threw a biscuit and hit his nose. It wasn’t what he meant. He honestly enjoyed these meals the five of them shared.
Sif threw Volstagg a scowl to go with the biscuit before turning her attention to Loki and explaining for herself, if not for the rest of them. “What was meant to be said, sire, was that we wish to continue this council in whatever new direction you see fit.”
Pity he couldn’t stand. Loki had far too much pride to abide it. If he suspected even for one second any of them were aware of just how vicious a companion loneliness was right now he wouldn’t hesitate in banishing them. Loki weighed in her sincerity before feeling a spot along his spine lose tension. A spot he hadn’t even realized had been tense. He nodded slowly, returning to his venison. “I will consider what projects would suit your talents.”
Sif sent Volstagg one last glare and returned to her own meal. In truth, though she doubted she would ever admit it out loud, she had come to enjoy Loki’s company. She was now exposed to a Loki who wasn’t competing with his brother. A Loki who took their input into consideration, even if he didn’t always act on it.
“You think so loudly, Lady Sif.”
She glanced at the trickster suspiciously who just smirked in reply. She was aware of his ability to skim surface thoughts from those around him. He was also aware of her awareness. After a moment of consideration she decided to warily extend a hand of trust. “Our recent efforts to safeguard the realm has provided inspiration, sire.”
Loki toyed with his wineglass as he watched her, asking casually, “Inspiration?”
Sif took the invitation to continue, speaking carefully. “We have increased Asgard’s might but perhaps we are not embracing the full potential of her citizens.”
Loki mentally scoffed. Not at what she was saying, but what she wasn’t. “Bluntness is your strength, Lady. Of anyone in this palace, I expect you to have the balls that your companions do not.” Even during the centuries that they hadn’t gotten along, her blunt honesty he found refreshing. Unfortunately she had yet to master herself enough to understand when she crossed over to bitchy.
The men all stiffened at the insult and a passionate fire lit Sif’s eyes as she spoke boldly. “Women have as much right to learn the sword and shield as men.”
A range of scoffing noises filled the dining hall, Loki ignoring them to continue watching Sif. They both knew the other three reacted from a deeply ingrained behavior passed on for generations. Daughters were taught household skills. They learned to knit and cook. Those gifted with magic were taught shielding spells to keep their children safe. Women were wives. Truly exceptional spell casters were healers.
It was why Loki had been mocked as much as he had. He didn’t fit the mold of an AEsir male. He didn’t have the strength to be the warrior he should be. He was an exceptional spell caster, but men weren’t healers. He had a foot in each door, but welcomed by neither.
Fandral’s mustache twitched as he spoke, “Name one woman who could defeat me with a longsword.”
Loki and Sif answered in unison, not looking at Fandral. “Sif.”
At the time Loki had appointed them, he had done so with the intention of making them a council in name only. He gave them tasks because it kept them out of his hair. He’d indulged their ideas but found himself surprised that sometimes their advice was sound. Loki had known them for centuries, yet he felt like for the first time he was starting to understand them.
Loki put down his wine and signaled for the next course. “I gather you have discovered those interested.”
Sif moved her arms back so the servants could take the empty plates and switch them for desert. It’s not that she was concerned about reprisals, but she’d rather not be specific until she had a better feel for how well Loki was receiving this. “Perhaps. But one of Tyr’s requirements is for the head of the household to give his blessing.”
A blessing that would never be granted. Sif’s father had been an exceptional man who saw his daughter’s potential beyond her being someone’s wife. The quickest of scowls crossed Loki’s face before it vanished with the mention of the general’s name.
Loki took another moment for the servants to complete their tasks and step back before nodding his permission. “Gather details on the numbers involved and your personal assessment of their potential and I will entertain your proposal.”
A thousand years of never believing a word that came out of his lying mouth. She’d never trusted the prince he had been further than a mortal could throw him (mortals couldn’t). But with surprise she found she did trust the king he had become. Sif allowed a satisfied grin to curl her lips as she tipped her head down slightly to him.
Loki’s gait was slow and casual, walking the Bi-frost to the observatory where Heimdall stood and looked over the nine realms with his golden eyes. It had been tempting to leave the gatekeeper to rot in the dungeons, but after sitting on the throne for a week Loki had decided the other man was more useful at his post. He’d expressed himself clearly and evenly as he’d released the AEsir. If Heimdall was even suspected of further treachery Loki would have his tongue silenced, blind him, and then cast him out of Asgard, uncaring of where he landed.
Heimdall could see anything and everything, if legend was to be believed. But Loki didn’t make the mistake that everyone else did. Heimdall could see what he chose to see, but it didn’t mean he understood.
“Heimdall.”
Heimdall didn’t turn but knew better than to not acknowledge the recognized king of Asgard. “Sire.”
Loki couldn’t stop his chest puffing up at such a gesture of respect aimed at him, coming from the man before him. “My, my…how it must burn to let that word pass your lips.”
Heimdall didn’t react, but then Loki hadn’t expected that he would. Loki prided himself in being able to understand people, whether they be AEsir, Vanir, or mortal. Heimdall had puzzled him at times. A man who didn’t fit a typical AEsir mold. Loki was almost disappointed that they both disliked the other.
Loki leaned against the golden inside of the observatory, his body language casual as his green eyes lazily flicked over Heimdall’s stoic form. “I can say with utmost sincerity I was surprised you did not act to retrieve Thor yourself.”
Heimdall knew better than to ignore Loki a second time. “The prince denied the throne.”
A ghost of a smirk tugged at Loki’s lips, his tone pleased, “And you were watching, no doubt.”
“I was.” A flicker of familiar distrust crossed the gatekeeper’s face. Even from the cells his golden eyes allowed him to see. His tone could have been described as chiding, “I watched a falsehood take the throne but your words allowed for his choice.” The distrust smoothed, surprise now in those golden eyes as he looked at Loki. “Your actions of late honor your father.”
Loki refused to allow what he was feeling to show on his face. He refused to acknowledge, even to himself, how much hearing words like that meant. All that was missing was Thor standing there and nodding in agreement. But Thor wasn’t there because his brother hadn’t come home. Instead Loki turned and muttered to himself. “And I thought I had a loose viewpoint concerning honor.”
“You find fault in my actions?” Heimdall’s face remained impassive as he asked.
Loki bared his teeth in what might have been described as a grin as he replied. “Far be it from me to protest actions that worked to my benefit.”
Heimdall slowly shook his head, golden eyes returning to watching the realms. “It was for the benefit of Asgard that I stilled my tongue.”
Loki mentally rolled his eyes but he didn’t respond to the opening. In truth he found himself questioning Heimdall’s sense of honor. A man who had loyally obeyed Odin’s every whim until Thor had come of age. Then suddenly even Odin’s edicts meant nothing if it contradicted Thor’s benefit. The gatekeeper may never admit to it but Loki suspected lust if not love was involved.
Instead, Loki turned his attention to the missive he was sent. Heimdall almost never left his post. For the gatekeeper to take the time to have a message sent to him by messenger, Loki knew it was important. “What have you seen?”
Now Heimdall’s brow furrowed slightly beneath his golden helmet. “What I saw was unclear. Something stirs on Muspelheim.”
Loki buried the giddiness aching to burst from beneath his skin. He’d provided the directions so his hired minion would discover the caverns that led to Surtur. His minion had provided a time table but there had been no communication since. He wanted nothing to trace back to himself because the second he wasn’t careful was when his plans always unraveled. Although he was starting to suspect that he continued to fail because he truly didn’t wish to win.
Instead he kept his tone curious and his face carefully blank as he asked. “Hmm…something to be concerned about?”
Heimdall didn’t respond, but then his brow remaining furrowed was response enough. He didn’t know.
Loki nodded slightly. “Notify me if what you observe poses a threat to the realms.”
“Sire.”
Loki turned to stride back to the palace, grinning once he was assured he wouldn’t be observed. It was almost time. Relief and hesitation in equal measure rose up within him. Relief that he would soon be free. The hesitation…
As Asgard had been restored to a glory that he remembered as a child, the hesitation had started to grow with it. His green eyes looked outward to the glorious city that he remembered. A city that reminded him of his mother. He was convinced his actions would be to everyone’s benefit…but somehow he felt like he was disappointing her.
HELHEIM
Hela glanced lazily at Odin who seemed to be determined to silently stare a hole through her. She smirked a little since he was ever so much fun to torment and decided to indulge him. Odin noticed she was more amused than anything else and made an observation. “I fail to see the point in holding court over the dead.”
She stroked her fingers almost lovingly across the arm rest of her throne, legs crossed and body leaned back in a casual sprawl. “To welcome the newly dead…and of course to feel important.”
“You could at least attempt to emulate the life we left behind.” Odin grumbled his words but reminded Hela of a pouting child.
Hela lifted an eyebrow slowly. This conversation felt familiar, just with different words. Her tone was chiding as she corrected him, “I have no interest in hosting decant, self-indulgent feasts when no one here can partake. Nor do I intend to alter my realm for your AEsir sensibility.” Now she cast aside amusement, bored with him and those like him as her tone turned scathing. “You’re dead. Get over it.”
Gruff authority filled the room, the former king of Asgard speaking. “I would not be dead if not for you. Certainly not here.”
Tipping her head back, Hela laughed in amusement. After a few moments of indulgence she glanced Odin’s way again. “Oh do explain your latest attempt to foist blame on someone else.”
“You broke your own rules to manipulate this outcome.”
She pointed a finger in the old king’s direction as she spoke. “First of all, I have no rules so there was nothing to break. Secondly, you read too much into my intent.”
Odin growled his words, “It was you who spoke of a desire for I to be within your command.”
Hela rolled her eyes. But then her expression turned thoughtful. “Did you know that people are predictable? They are, morbidly so. A creature that is predictable is boring and not worth my time. Your societies have taken advantage of that fact, quantifying and classifying their people based upon certain status. Humans have a class system based on income and geography. Your own have commoners, warriors, nobility…the people within those classifications are raised to a certain standard. Are taught to speak and act in a particular manner.” Her hand waved dismissively as her expression filled with a dismissive disdain. “You were tediously predictable in life, Borson. Your eldest is just as much that I could no doubt predict his actions from now until his end. And then we have Loki.”
Odin folded his hands behind his back, casting a quick glance around and unconsciously mimicking one of his sons. “Yet you managed to convince him to leave my soul to fate’s whim.”
Now Hela looked surprised. “You assume I lied to him.” She grinned just a little as she shook her head. “I did not. He asked questions concerning you and I offered my perception. I do not claim to be omnipotent and he does not assume such. My answers were simply in agreement with his perception.”
He sighed in exasperation and shook his head, grumbling, “He has done nothing but twist my words--…”
“Shut. Up.” The words were as sharp as a thunder clap. As much a command as the release of a spell. All movement ceased and Odin was surprised to find he was at a loss for words. Hela leaned forward, irritation on her face as she spoke, “You speak as if he does so to antagonize and vex you. Has it never occurred to you, you old fool, he is offering you how he perceives your actions? Perhaps instead of internalizing everything you should have explained yourself. Love or affection or whatever you wish to call it cannot be felt and accepted, is in fact useless, if it is never expressed.”
That indeed shut Odin up.
Hela didn’t care either way. While she enjoyed pointing out mistakes there was hardly any point in trying to inspire change. Everyone here was dead. Change was a luxury for the living.
She crooked a finger and a pedestal slowly formed in the middle of the room. The base was filled with water and sitting perpendicular in the water was a fine width of glass. Odin turned his attention to the object before glancing at Hela questioningly.
“This would be the other purpose for court. Death would be quite boring were it not for my ability to watch the living.” Odin didn’t even realize horror was reflected on his face and Hela had to fight to suppress a giggle. “Not everywhere. Your throne room, for instance, was well protected from my eyes and ears. But other realms are not nearly so shrouded. Midgard, for instance.”
Odin frowned slightly, confused. “You watch mortals?” The unspoken question was why.
Hela shrugged lightly as she leaned back once more. “They do have their moments. Not recently, unfortunately. The saturation of reality television has made them dreadfully stupid.” She gestured and a goblet was presented to her, something dark and thick within. She took the glass in one hand. “They film themselves in real situations, which in reality is just a crass, fictitious form of life.” She took a careful sip of whatever lay within and made a happy sound in the back of her throat. “Not even the mortals here can explain it.” Putting the goblet to the side, she gestured and an image appeared for all within the throne room to see. A planet consumed in flames, volcanic and considered by most beings uninhabitable. “I wish to see what happens on Muspelheim.”
Odin eyed the fiery realm, curiosity in his voice as he asked, “Why have you interest there?” It was a realm of the fire demon. At one time it was inhabited by fire giants but they had died out centuries ago.
“Surtur, of course. Loki returned to life for the one purpose of learning the truth. You confirmed it. Now he will seek death and give the AEsir the final battle they so crave.” She smiled evilly, her question wrapping around his neck like a noose, “Who else do you believe Loki will utilize?”
Odin felt the ground beneath his feet disappear as he was filled with shock and horror. Surtur had been so strong he couldn’t be defeated, only imprisoned. If Loki released that creature not only would he destroy the AEsir but the remaining nine realms as well. “What??”
Author's Notes:
No, Asgard isn't going to turn into all sunshine and roses. I'm far to cynical to allow or believe that.
And right about now Odin is thinking... oh, shit. :D
Next:
Surtur has a visitor; Thor returns (uh oh)