Chapter 10
HELHEIM
The throne room of Helheim was relatively empty. It wouldn’t be once something of true interest started to occur among the living. Until then images would continue to move as long as Hela wished it.
Farbauti frowned thoughtfully as she watched the image of a rather ordinary woman come into view. She had lived her entire life on Jötunheim but with death she had been exposed to the other races. She would think her AEsir or Vanir, and from her dress would place her as a commoner from Asgard. Yet Hela was watching her with seeming interest. “Why do you watch her?”
Hela leaned back on her throne, her eyes flicking to Farbauti before returning to the images. “She is known to me.”
Her frown deepened. “She is but a servant.”
A touch of amusement touched Hela’s lips, her eyes not veering as she watched Anya fold a few casual items into a satchel in preparation for her journey. “Indeed she is. As predictable a creature as any of them. She is a commoner and is satisfied with that rank.”
“Then why would you watch her?” Farbauti took a step closer, repeating what Hela had said before. “I thought only those that were interesting were known to you…or those that will enter your kingdom.”
“Not all of them. Sometimes I watch those because of their interactions with others.” Hela’s eyes went distant for a moment. “She will be sent to Alfheim.” Farbauti still looked confused so Hela clarified. “By your son.” Farbauti may not have had the honor of raising him but she had not willingly abandoned her child and Hela was mindful of that.
“Why?”
Hela looked amused again. “I considered that.” Her head tilted a little as she reflected on such a seemingly small act. “The rage began with Odin’s lies that Loki took as a betrayal. The loss of the woman who raised him as mother has sustained him this long and will continue long enough to see Asgard burn. He is so blinded by that rage he would see warrior and denizen alike consumed…yet he has seemingly spared her.”
Farbauti also knew enough about the fire demon that the death of one realm would hardly satisfy him. Surtur would continue until there was nothing left of the other realms. “With Surtur involved it will not be for long.”
“No. Surtur will not stop with Asgard. He craves dominion over all the nine. Vanaheim and then Alfheim would fall under his hand. But if such events occur after Loki is dead he won’t care.” Now Hela turned her attention to Farbauti and asked a question she already knew the answer to, “Do you feel truly vested in the actions of the living?”
“No.”
The Helheim queen inclined her head to indicate she was speaking of Loki. “He was dead long enough to be aware of how distant the cares of the living become. He is focused on a moment and an outcome that will lead to no regret.”
“Then why would he even bother with her?”
That spark of amusement returned to Hela’s eyes as she glanced at the image of Anya again before letting the images fade to black. “I’ve watched this boy the whole of his life. I believe I know him best, but even then he still manages to surprise me. He is sending her away because she is one of the few that he would spare Asgard for.”
Farbauti blinked in surprise. She had been certain that Loki wouldn’t stop now. He would either succeed or someone would have to stop him. “Who else? He doesn’t seem to trust any of them.”
Idly Hela glanced at her fingers. “He has an affection for those warriors he surrounds himself with but he won’t stop for them. Of any of them, his brother is the only one with any influence.” Then an evil grin formed. “But it matters not. It’s too late. Soon the ground will shake. Soon all the AEsir will feel the end as it approaches.”
ASGARD
It was such a little thing. A flick of Loki’s finger produced a delicate wisp of green magic and the burn marks on the stone disappeared. Yet even with those blemishes gone Loki couldn’t help but stare at the spot. His throat felt dry and constricted, his palms clammy, but he couldn’t figure out why as he panted softly.
Closing his eyes was perhaps one of the most difficult tasks he’d undertaken, opening them again while lifting his gaze so that he wasn’t looking at the blemish that was no longer there on his mother’s fountain. His green eyes flicked this way and that, taking in every aspect of the fountain in the late afternoon sunlight as if he’d never seen it before. His brow slowly furrowed, barely suppressing a shudder.
The mark was a reminder of what was going to happen.
Could he do this to the realm that was once home? Could he do this to his mother’s people? No, that wasn’t the question anymore. It was already happening. Was he truly going to let this happen was the question? Was he going to allow the AEsir to fall and Asgard to be destroyed? But as soon as the question penetrated his jaw clenched and his eyes flared as that familiar rage reawakened. The question became easy to answer. It was the reason he was looking at a fountain and not her lovely face. Yes, Asgard had failed her and he could do this.
He bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile and strode back into the palace. It was almost time to put the war council through their paces. Once they were seen to he would journey to Muspelheim, never to see Asgard again. There was just one small matter to take care of first.
Loki waited with his arms folded loosely behind his back. He didn’t turn his head as a soldier was admitted into the expansive room, his gaze focused on the maps that were strewn about the table of the different realms. It was the circular war room, where few were admitted entrance. There were seats on three sides for lengthy discussion with the king’s place directly opposite the door.
He had called for a hearing of the war council, but that was still minutes away. Right now he would have a question answered of why Thor didn’t receive his message concerning Odin’s death. Perhaps it was just a mistake. Perhaps the letter had been somehow lost. But he suspected it had been intentional.
He’d already summoned the messenger who had been responsible for all correspondence. Now he was summoning the soldier who had been responsible for transporting official messages from the palace. He turned to give the other man a quick glance and found himself frowning with familiarity. “I know you.”
The soldier clenched his fist at his heart and bowed deeply, more so than was required. No, not a soldier, judging by his armor and formality. “Your majesty.”
It took Loki a moment before it suddenly came to him. “You were one of the dungeon guards.”
There were ranks within the ranks. The least skilled were guards along the outer posts. Those with skill but considered average in ability with no political pull were placed in the dungeons or walked the inner streets of Asgard. The man stood a little taller. “I have a rotation down there, yes, sire.”
This was the man who had told him his mother had died. Loki’s mind couldn’t help tripping down that day without his permission. The guard hadn’t looked at him at the time, the words spoken softly and with great care. Loki couldn’t stop himself from asking, needing to know the response. “Were you ordered to inform me by my predecessor?”
The guard needed no clarification to know what the question meant. “I-I took the initiative.” Loki narrowed his eyes slightly. Not a complete lie, but not the complete truth either. No doubt Odin had said something to the effect of ‘inform the people’. This one just decided to use the loose phrasing to lump Loki within that command.
Clever. A gesture that Loki appreciated, in all honesty. To learn of her death had been crushing. To never know of it at all until Thor appeared would have killed him. Or Thor would have said something unforgiveable and he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from trying to kill the thunderer. Which reminded him of another action this man took the initiative on without prompting. “Yes, you seem to be taking a lot of initiative lately.” Loki lifted an eyebrow, affecting a more official tone. “It is not for you to decide for your king. If I seal a missive, to my brother or anyone else, I expect it to reach its destination.”
The guard bowed immediately, this time appropriately. “It will not happen again, sire.”
Instead of giving the man his leave, Loki turned his head slightly and asked softly, “Why did you?”
The man seemed to weigh his words carefully before responding, which was not a typical reaction for an AEsir. But then a guard who didn’t follow orders blindly was not a typical AEsir either. “For the former I found…dishonor in the truth being kept from you.”
Loki raised an eyebrow as he turned fully. “And the latter?”
The guard was careful to keep his gaze averted. “The elder son of King Odin was just as capable as I in sparing two minutes of his valuable time.”
A very distinct way to phrase a reply. Thor may have abdicated the throne but he had still earned the title of prince just as Loki once had. That this guard would skip it spoke volumes. Not so popular as you once were, eh brother? Loki tilted his head slightly in curiosity as he asked, “What is your name?”
The guard dipped his head respectfully. “Hunther Arvidson, sire.”
Loki felt amusement curl the corner of his mouth and he relished the feeling. It had been so long since he had felt a positive emotion that wasn’t tangled with something ugly. “Do you have ambition, Hunther?”
Hunther stood up straight once more, eyes forward to stare at the far wall. “Of course, sire.”
He knew it wasn’t before he even asked but it was a question that had to be asked. “And is your current posting your desired vocation?”
The other man’s light eyebrows furrowed slightly, hinting to displeasure. “No, sire.”
Loki felt his lip twitch traitorously again. If this man needed a little political backing it was the least he could offer. “I will speak with Tyr. You will be reposted to an interior guard of the throne room.”
Now Hunther’s blue eyes met his own green orbs as his smirk grew. A promotion, to put it mildly. Hunther’s words were sincere. “Thank you, sire.”
“Remember, Hunther, I appreciate ambition…but do not let it consume you.” Something dark filled Loki’s green eyes as his thoughts turned to his own past. To an act and a gesture that had led to her death. “Some actions cannot be taken back.” And if it were possible he would move all of creation to take it back. Unless…
He shoved the vile thought away. The infinity gems assembled in the gauntlet would be the way. But that was not his plan, nor would he divert. He was set on a course for death that would send him to Valhalla to be with her. He would not allow himself to alter that course now. What he was doing for Hunther would settle the debt between them, even if there wouldn’t be an Asgard remaining for very long for the other man to enjoy it.
The doors behind them opened, admitting the war council and Loki gave Hunther his leave with a gesture. Hunther responded with a low bow of respect before retreating.
Loki didn’t watch Hunther leave, his eyes focused on the men entering. Three dozen men with various ranks, various strengths in battle. He wasn’t focused on the others, he was focused on Tyr. Of any of them, Tyr was the one who held the most sway over the others. He didn’t wait for anyone to settle into their seats or to open with pleasantries, waiting just long enough for the doors to close. “Asgard must prepare for war.”
Tyr looked almost thoughtful, the warrior not nearly as old as Odin but holding a certain similar feel to him. There were some rumors that Tyr was an illegitimate son of Odin but it wasn’t true. The pair of them had simply worked well today both on and off the battlefield.
There was no denying there was a certain pleasure in the older warrior’s eyes as he spoke, which Loki silently took note of, “Sire, perhaps you are not familiar with protocol--…”
Loki cut him off effortlessly, not about to be talked down to even if the other man was trying to hide his true intent. “I am quite familiar, General Tyr. What transpired today was a formal declaration. We are at war so there is no debate. Retaliation is our current recourse, we simply must determine our target.”
There were soft murmurs but the majority were focused on Tyr, waiting for his response. “There could be any--…”
Odin would thump Gungnir to end the debate and used gruff might to force his point across. But he was Loki and that wasn’t his way. His tone was almost dismissive, but he let his Silvertongue work. They may all wish to dismiss his power and control but it was hard to dismiss what the gatekeeper saw lightly. “There is not. Heimdall sees matters which concern him on Muspelheim. We are to determine if that is where our cowardly enemy has chosen to hide and if so…smite him.”
Tyr was by nature a tactician and considered one of the best. He didn’t follow orders lightly and he only did so from men he respected. Loki knew from the start he was going to have the most difficult time with Tyr considering their animosity for one another. Tyr had respected Odin and wouldn’t hesitate to follow any order no matter how ridiculous it sounded. For Loki, even reasonable requests were met with resistance and questioned. “We cannot form ranks and charge to this realm without assurity of who we are dealing with. We leave the realm eternal exposed if we are in error.” He spoke with an air of finality, as it he had the authority to overrule a king’s decree.
There were murmurs of agreement, the men nodding as one. The only reason Loki maintained his temper was because of the grim satisfaction he gained picturing all of these men dead with their brain matter decorating the walls.
A new voice caused heads to turn as Thor pushed open the double doors without pausing to consider if he was invited. The guards on the outside looked in with a questioning look. Loki made a dismissive gesture to them silently as the thunderer focused on Tyr, a grim set to his jaw as he asked. “You would question the judgement of your king, General Tyr?”
The warriors looked between the two brothers but when nothing was said by Loki, Tyr focused his response on the elder brother. In line of succession or not, Thor had never lost his title as prince. It was also obvious that Tyr had more respect for Thor than Loki. “I do not question, Prince, I seek clarification.” Loki lifted an eyebrow. That certainly wasn’t what he’d been hearing.
Thor didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Tyr. “Then your choice of words leaves much to be desired.”
Tyr’s eyes flicked back and forth from the pair of them in surprise. “I offer my sincerest apologies, my lord, if my words offended or overstepped my position.”
The statement may have been offered in Loki’s direction but Thor was the one who responded. “Your words succeeded on both counts. I have removed myself from the line of succession but never doubt that I will defend Asgard and my king.”
Loki silently studied Thor, green eyes hooded and expression an impenetrable mask. The man he had known for a thousand years was a leader, not a follower. He was the son of a king, raised and trained to rule. He was encouraged to be arrogant, ambitious, and ruthless. Loki had expected Thor to do something by now to inspire dissention in the ranks that would make himself look more favorable. He hadn’t expected the thunderer to throw his support behind his being king.
The trickster shook himself of his contemplation. Why didn’t matter. All that mattered was success. “What I propose is this: a small band will determine if Muspelheim is our target. While doing so, you will see that the warriors are ready.”
“They are--…”
Loki cut Tyr off, ticking each distinction in the warrior ranks with a finger. The primary ranks were ready to go at a moment’s notice, but technically there were three levels. “Primary. Secondary…and tertiary.” That froze the warriors, all of them with surprise in their eyes. Even Thor glanced at him. It wasn’t unheard of for all the warriors to be called into action but it was exceptionally rare. The tertiary were those that weren’t formally accepted warriors but they were close enough in their training that in a time of great need they could be called upon. Only once before had the need been so great that even those in that transitional age had been readied. “Yes. Every warrior, General Tyr, even those in their last years of training before gaining formal acceptance. All warriors are to be armed and ready.”
Now that they were listening his words set a grim tone to the room. He held Thor’s support, a man who had always been highly respected for his battle skills. As far as the rest was concerned, the discussion was concluded. “What do you suspect, sire?”
“I suspect that Surtur has woken from his long sleep…but I want assurity that I am correct--…” Loki trailed off as the ground under his feet, under all their feet, started to shake. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen when he was upset but this hadn’t been prompted by him. His head turned to look in the direction of the snow-capped mountains beyond the pine forest. The two crows who had acted as Odin’s spies all these years, Muninn and Huginn, cawed and flew through the room. Going through the motions, he’d sent them to Muspelheim to confirm what he already knew. Loki slowly lifted an eyebrow, able to understand them now that they were considered his spies as king. “Indeed.” The men all turned to him. “We travelling to Muspelheim is merely a formality. It has been confirmed. Surtur awakes.”
Eyes widened, a subtle variety of color amongst those present but the dominant color was blue. Tyr set aside his ego and dislike for Loki and addressed his king. “Sire…”
“I remember the old tales of Alfheim, the devastation of the uninhabitable regions of Vanaheim. The ground will quake for three days before the mountains will erupt, spewing fire and death on those too near…do you truly want to delay until I am proven right?” There was no more dissention. No more hesitation and Loki nodded slightly. “Ready the men. I will travel with a small group to determine if he may be simply put back into his grave. If not Heimdall will be notified and Asgard’s survival will depend on your success.”
Thor looked as if he might object, but he swallowed what he had been about to say. He couldn’t stop Loki, and any objection he offered would only weaken his brother’s position. Instead he vowed that whether Loki like it or not, he would be accompanying him.
HELHEIM
The throne room may have been sparsely occupied but no longer. Now all sorts of creatures were crowded in the space to see what was happening. All the dead had felt Surtur stir the realm of Asgard, turning peaceful mountains into eminent volcanos. Odin was dead but a short time in comparison to those surrounding him and had the strength to force himself to the front. Not that any of the dead were foolish enough to obstruct Hela’s view.
“He cannot know of the destruction he is calling down on Asgard…”
Hela slowly lifted an eyebrow at Odin’s words to himself, his eye glued to what was going on. She disagreed. Loki knew exactly what he was doing. It amazed her that Odin still didn’t understand the nature of the boy he had brought back from Jötunheim. She doubted he would ever understand.
The boy that he did understand was Thor. The thunderer was quick to anger and did so often. His rage was like a spring storm. Powerful but brief. It was a rage that fizzled and died quickly. Loki was quite a different creature and much more dangerous because of it. His rage was a slow burn. It took time to develop it, time that could be spent dousing it, which is why he could remain so cool and calm so much longer than his brother. But once that rage had hit the crisis point and exploded, there was no turning back. It would burn much brighter and much longer than Thor’s was capable.
A rage that could see him through the destruction of Asgard and even Thor’s death. It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t regret once the rage was no longer goading him. But then again his rage was so great that he had no intention of surviving to worry about the aftermath.
Hela grinned slowly. Cruelly. It would take three days for the mountains of Asgard to turn into volcanos. She was quite positive Loki would take the long way to Surtur’s holding cell. By the time they arrived to find Surtur free, there would be little to nothing left of Asgard.
Author's Notes:
We're about to move on to a rather hot local...and no, not the Bahamas.
Next:
Old friends have a chat; Anya meets the queen of Alfheim