Chapter 17
ALFHEIM
Anya continued to pace and wring her hands as she anxiously awaited word. Asgard couldn’t fail. It just couldn’t. She’d tried reading but she couldn’t concentrate, worried for the warriors of Asgard on Muspelheim. Silently she would admit her worry was focused on a specific person. A few centuries ago she didn’t hold this anxiety. But Loki had been declared dead and then alive so often now that she was always anxious when he flung himself into danger, worried that the next time it was declared it would be true. Even a walk of the grounds hadn’t help to clear her head. She desperately needed a distraction.
Sigyn knocked lightly on the doorframe before she entered. She paused just long enough to note Anya’s almost frenzied pace before stating the obvious, “You seem distressed, Anya.”
“Lady--…” At Sigyn’s warning look concerning formality Anya corrected herself, “Sigyn. I am just…worried.” She sighed this but she couldn’t stand still. She needed to do something.
Sigyn silently gestured towards the informal area and the pair of them sat with Anya still wringing her poor hands. The light elf frowned almost delicately, but was certainly willing to provide the distraction the AEsir needed. “This cannot be the first time in your lifetime Asgard has gone to war.”
Anya glanced down at her hands and chuckled lightly. “No, I am not that young.”
The elf queen tilted her head curiously and asked, “How old are you?”
“2147.” The reply was without hesitation.
Sigyn blinked twice in surprise. “I didn’t think AEsir remembered their age so precisely.”
Unconsciously Anya stopped wringing her hands when she smiled ever so slightly. “Most don’t. It merely becomes a number to them after their majority.”
“Yet you do.” Sigyn carefully prodded, knowing the AEsir retaining this was significant.
Anya nodded slowly, her voice quieting, “I have reasons to remember my age.”
“Really?”
She sighed softly and chose her words carefully before she spoke. What she was saying was common knowledge so she saw no harm in speaking the truth, “My position is unique. I have the freedom of choosing to not marry, to not have children, and to continue my chosen vocation. Most women at my age do not have those choices so I remember my age to retain my gratitude.”
“Are there truly not that many opportunities in Asgard?” A wary look crossed Anya’s face and Sigyn was quick to wave away her apprehension. “Talking to me of such things isn’t a betrayal.” When the AEsir servant didn’t look anymore comforted the elf queen offered, “Talk of what is common knowledge, not hidden from the other realms.”
“There are opportunities. I could be a merchant or a baker. Perhaps even a seamstress…” Anya hesitated before listing some of those opportunities and Sigyn picked up on that.
“I heard a hesitation.”
Anya chewed on the inside of her bottom lip before explaining, “For the former I would have to have a spouse of a similar vocation or he would have to have enough gold to support an independent business. As to the latter…” A self-depreciating smile crossing her lips. “I never was very skilled at it.”
“Which again lends itself to a limited amount of choices after a woman is married.” Sigyn raised an unimpressed eyebrow at such options. But then she thought about Anya’s position as Loki’s servant and offered another choice, “Surely with the support of someone from the nobility you would be able to pursue such a venture.”
Fire flashed in Anya’s eyes as she stated stiffly, “I will not use someone to achieve something.”
“I’ve discovered it.” The expression on Anya’s face shifted to confusion at the relief and mild triumph in Sigyn’s voice. “I must admit you had me vexingly confused. You have so much potential but no drive to achieve more. You don’t want it.”
Anya felt her brow furrow as her confusion deepened. “I have told you I am satisfied with my position.”
“No, you’re truly not.” Anya opened her mouth to object but Sigyn ignored her. “You stifle your own ambition. Why?”
Slowly Anya closed her mouth without making a sound. It’s not that Sigyn was wrong because she wasn’t. But it was a truth she’d never put into words, even though she was considering doing so now. She’d barely known this woman for any length of time but she was about to speak of something that no one else knew. She supposed it was because unlike anyone else in Asgard, Sigyn might actually understand.
“Your perception of the opportunities for a single woman are not inaccurate. Lady Sif has achieved much, and that was with the support of our departed Queen. Not that I have even a fraction of her skill. She required support but her achievements were gained honestly.” Sigyn said nothing, just silently listening. Anya’s expression turned thoughtful. “I could become a courtier, but why would I want to? They play with politics and hop from bedchamber to bedchamber to achieve what they want. I have no magical skills and no woman is a dignitary between realms.” But she desperately wished there was. She would love to become an ambassador for Asgard. But the council would never want a woman to support their interests in another realm. Also the warriors would never believe that a woman who wasn’t Sif could remain unmolested or un-abducted. Wry amusement filled her expression. “Lord Loki has threatened often enough to ennoble me.” With a sufficient title she could open that quaint little shop seen only in her dreams, selling her wares. But as always she was quick to push away that distant dream. “I will not allow it because I don’t want to become like what I’ve witnessed.” She hardened her voice and tightened her jaw, even as she remained in tight control over her features so that Sigyn couldn’t take offense. “With the exception of only a few, every noble and aristocrat I have ever been in the presence of are greedy, self-absorbed and self-important fools. A servant is nothing more than walking furniture to them and commoners are opportunities to line their own pockets. They would stand on the backs of people without thinking twice to achieve their own goals. I will never be like them.”
Amusement filled Sigyn’s expression as she made a statement that clearly didn’t require a response to, “I am assuming that I would be among that exception.”
Pleasant politeness descended over Anya’s face as she replied quietly, “Of course. You have been an excellent host and have treated me with the utmost respect.”
“I have received a missive, Et’ana.” Both of them stiffened as an elf entered without at least the polite knock. Anya pushed her irritation away while Sigyn just held out her hand and shot the messenger a cold look. He was quick to retreat with all haste.
Sigyn read through the missive, nothing in her expression giving away her own feelings on the content. Her blue eyes glanced at Anya before the letter was held out to her. Anya held up a hand in protest but Sigyn just shook her head and stated softly, “It’s nothing we need to hide…and I think the wording can relay the message on gentler terms than I am capable.”
Anya took the letter with trepidation and started to read. Moments later her expression crumpled in despair. While the wording wasn’t elegant, it did offer a hint of sorrow to the news of Asgard’s victory…and great loss.
HELHEIM
The dead were still and silent, turning from the glowing reflection of burning embers to the queen of the dead who didn’t move. She didn’t even twitch. She hadn’t in quite some time.
Odin watched and felt a strange swelling in his breast that had never been exclusively directed at Loki before. Pride. Even knowing that all of this destruction had been due to Loki’s actions, he saw past it to the act itself. The act of a choice. To choose not just the nine realms and the AEsir, but that Thor would live and ascend to the throne.
A sound disturbed the silence, eyes turning back to watch Hela slowly stand and clap. As if the actions had all been staged by actors for her own personal enjoyment. There was amusement on her face and in her eyes. But there was something more. Knowledge. She turned to the south and whistled sharply, a sound that carried like a shrill scream.
Nothing occurred for several long moments before two flamed beasts walked through the walls, up to either side of Hela. Odin stiffened, recognizing them for what they were. The legendary flamed hellhounds of Niflheim. Just as the Valkyries escorted the honored dead to Valhalla, it was said the hellhounds escorted the worst of the damned to Niflheim.
“His act is worthy of Valhalla, not Niflheim.”
Hela didn’t look at Odin, her fingers lovingly caressing each of her hound’s heads. She didn’t owe Odin any explanations, but she was curious as to his reaction when he learned the truth. “Loki gave his soul into my keeping in exchange for protecting the denizens of Asgard.”
Odin froze, eye wide in shock. Loki had always been the child he understood the least. The boy embraced magic with a fervor he never had. His passions seemed to be in schemes and lies, which only further confounded him. Yet that he would offer his soul to Hela in exchange for the protection of the citizens of Asgard spoke of a nobility that most AEsir would fail if put to the test.
He sounded hoarsely surprised as he asked, “An agreement you honored?”
She gave him a toothy grin. “Most did not need my protection. But I used seidr to spare your realm’s buildings and the few that remained.”
His eye hardened. “You cannot have him.”
Hela slowly lifted one eyebrow at that firm statement. It was spoken softly but there was steel behind it. Her lips twitched as she looked at him fully and asked, “What was that?” The dead’s gazes pin-ponged from one to the other.
Odin stood up taller, a rumble in his voice. He spoke louder now but didn’t alter his words. “You cannot have him.”
“I agree.” Farbauti stepped forward as the gathered dead quickly backed away so as not to get in the line of fire. Then the Jötunn glared at Odin to emphasize her stance. “Not with you.” She turned back to Hela. “But Loki should be in Valhalla with the woman he acknowledges as his mother.”
“This is not a democracy, children.” Farbauti’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and Hela was surprised to see a bit of temper there. Not too surprised. Farbauti, even in death, retained a love for all of her children. But it was the first display of temper directed at herself since the woman had died. Hela’s gaze moved to Odin to see a stubborn set to his jaw. Not that either of them had any true power here but she was curious as to his reason. Asking him softly, her tone giving none of her own thoughts away, “Why not?”
“You are not worthy of him.”
Hela snorted rather loudly, asking him, “And you were?” She studied him, surprised at the rebellion in his gaze. Until now Odin had been a shadow of his former self. Now the king the AEsir remembered long ago stood before her. She understood why and it irritated her. She shook her head slowly to herself. “Still such a fool.”
His brow furrowed. “I will have your reason for your words.”
Surprise flickered across her face, but there was also mockery there. “They aren’t just my words. Your Advisory Council has been calling you such behind your back for years.” His upper lip curled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. Hela ignored him. “The Norns have given you that label and who am I to disagree with them? Both of your sons have called you this…and if Thor is calling you a fool then it must be true.” Farbauti couldn’t hold back the snicker even if she tried. Not that she was trying very hard. Hela redirected the conversation and explained why she agreed with that label. “You do not see Loki’s worth now that he has accomplished what the great King Odin could not. What three fourths of the nine realms banded together could not. He did not just incapacitate Surtur. The fire demon will never reconstitute himself. Loki destroyed him.”
“With your aid.”
Hela shrugged at Odin dismissively. “I offered knowledge. If he didn’t have the capability, it wouldn’t have worked. To put this into context that even you can understand…I lay the magical equivalent of a sword at his feet. He had to have the skill, strength, and accuracy to wield it successfully.” Now disgust curled her lip. “But do you, Odin Borson, acknowledge such a feat? No. You only see what you wish to see. Your pride is focused elsewhere. He has paved the way for what you envisioned all along. That your trueborn son would sit on the throne and continue the stagnation that has hovered over the AEsir for more than 7,000 years. That, is what you are proud of and that is why you are a fool.”
Odin blinked once but he didn’t bother with denials that no one would believe. At this point he wasn’t entirely certain that she was wrong since she seemed to be right about everything else. Instead he focused on why he believed Thor to be the king that Asgard needed. “Thor is my heir.”
“He was.” A sly grin spread across her face that eerily reminded him of Loki. “The Thor of a few years ago was your heir, like you in all the ways that you wish you weren’t. You changed his course by letting him learn from humanity the value of compassion.”
Odin’s voice was gruff as he ignored the comparisons between himself and his son. “He became worthy of the throne.”
Hela corrected him effortlessly. “He became a man open to change. A man who can think for himself to determine what matters most to him in this life.” Her eyes flicked over to Farbauti. “A man who can look past blue skin and red eyes to see the brother he wishes to reconcile with once more.”
He shook his head, his mind remaining focused on the wrongness of Loki being here after such a sacrifice. “Loki--…”
“Why did you fear him?” She cut him off with her quiet question.
He didn’t see the point of it but he puffed up in denial. “I was not--…”
She cut him off with another sly grin. “I can hear lies, a gift I gave to him.”
“You?” Odin asked, his voice startled. He couldn’t place the time, but he had noticed it was around the time that Loki became fascinated with his spell work. It was about the same time that he stopped being easily fooled with lies, almost as if he could detect them.
“As talented a liar as you were in life, you are transparent to me in death.” Hela’s lip twitched a second later, belatedly realizing the physical truth of that statement. Then her expression turned back to sly, her eyes burning with knowledge. “You feared his intelligence. His magic. Would it aid your fear to know that he and I are on equal terms in power?”
Odin blinked rapidly several times. He had seen Loki’s abilities. Tricks and illusions, mostly. This was the first time Loki had ever used his magic in a monumental capacity and it ended up destroying him. “His magic was never--…”
She ignored him. “His limitation is his mortal form and his youth. Were he not born mortal, he would rival the Norns.” She stepped away from her throne, crossing the distance and her hounds following on either side of her. The dead had no choice except to part for her. Loki was further disadvantaged by the realm he grew up in. A realm and a father that didn’t provide the proper tools that he needed to use his magic to its full potential. She could help with that and provide him a few tomes. To make things interesting she might do it. “His disadvantage of his age, however…once he’s gained enough knowledge, lives long enough…he will be a force.” Farbauti jerked slightly though she didn’t move, staring at Hela in shock.
Odin didn’t take notice of the tense, only that she now had everything she wanted. “You have, yet again, arranged an end to your benefit.”
It truly would be an end to her benefit if her goal was to destroy the realms. To have not just the AEsir who had never known defeat in command of her armies but the trickster prince of Asgard, the greatest mage to ever walk the nine. But then again, Odin never had understood her and he never would. When she acted, power wasn’t her only motivation.
Hela stopped and gave Odin a condescending look. “You think I would be happy if the boy died?” He looked startled once more and she just gave him a pitying shake of her head. “I told you, the living are far more entertaining to watch. Besides, I was certain he wouldn’t change his mind. He surprised me…that should be rewarded.”
“But, he’s dead.”
Her lips quirked. “You were a simple man in life and even more so in death. The boundary between life and death is not nearly as rigid as you believe…and for the mage powerful enough, there is no boundary.”
ASGARD
Sif felt as solemn as she looked, adjusting her armor in the mirror. She felt a bitterness rise up from within. She had never seen the Advisory Council scramble so quickly. It had been less than 48 hours since Surtur’s defeat. They wanted Thor crowned before the end of the day because so many in Asgard were still displaced and a stable government was needed. Even the most hardened of the warriors had seen it as an act of poor taste. The crowning of a king should be a joyous occasion but she saw little to rejoice. Thor had agreed only because tonight they would be sending out the ships in the funeral rites to honor the fallen and he wanted to be the one to send Loki’s first. Then tomorrow his first act as king would be to dismiss the entire council.
Slowly she frowned at her reflection in the mirror before reaching back and releasing her tightly bound hair. It fell like a curtain of ebony around her face and for once she didn’t flinch from it. Her hair wasn’t as unmanageable as Loki’s but the color did remind her of him. Picking up her brush, she moved the bristles through the strands a few times before loosely pulling back half of it. Still out of her face, the unbound portion now fell loosely down her back.
In remembrance.
His words kept repeating in her mind, a thousand times by now since the battle. She found herself wishing he had lived, not just for Thor’s sake but for her own. With the truth revealed concerning her hair and his past feelings…it would have been nice to see what could have happened between them. The pair of them had respect for one another. With time it could have grown into something more.
There was no red in her armor. What wasn’t silver was black. She wrapped a wide black band around her right gauntlet. Formal armor was fitting for today, but this was not a day of celebration and Thor didn’t want it to be. Which was good because she didn’t think she’d be able to muster it.
Fandral knocked on the doorframe a second time, realizing she hadn’t heard him the first time. She glanced at him in the reflection of the mirror and the look that flashed across her face he felt mirrored by his own emotions.
“I wish it was all just a dream.” She moved away from the mirror as she said this, facing the balcony. She stilled her trembling lip by biting into it. She would not break down in front of him.
“It feels like it was one. It--…I never expected matters to end like this.” Fandral slowly shook his head after he spoke. They were warriors, all. Since the beginning they had all been trained to fight hard and to die with honor. Still, it was quite different to see one of their own perish in battle.
She could remember just a few years ago feeling invincible. The six of them against any foe. She had felt confident they would always hold victory. “I keep waiting, expecting him to appear and laugh at our grief.” She refused to look at him, finding it easier to speak at the wall. “I wouldn’t even be angry with him at this point.”
“You wouldn’t?” Fandral asked quietly, only mildly doubting.
Sif sniffed but didn’t turn around, holding her head just a little higher. “I would punch him of course but it would be the least he deserved.”
Fandral grinned slightly but the amusement quickly slipped away. His mind was still turning over what he had learned. “The bards are already busy writing songs and sonnets to Loki’s legend.” Sif didn’t even twitch in his direction and he stared at her back a little harder, willing her to turn around. “He signed the edict.”
She frowned just a little, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder as she asked, “What edict?”
“Your edict.” She lifted her eyebrow slightly but her face remained blank so Fandral explained further. “Anyone of the proper age, boy or girl, may request training…without the requirement of head of household approval so long as they are judged fit enough.”
Sif mulled over what an edict like that could mean, a scowl automatically flashing across her face as she asked, “And who decides that? Tyr?”
Her anger with the general knew no bounds, both for obvious and less obvious reasons. What respect she'd carried for him had been crushed under the knowledge of what he had done. The fact that he let Loki shoulder the blame left her cursing him a coward as well as a bully. Yet even in her anger, she could see that he did regret. He, like the rest of Asgard, was subdued with the loss of their king.
“You do, actually.” Her mouth dropped in shock before she jerked back around and blinked rapidly to will away the burn in her eyes. So many emotions welled up in her heart it was overwhelming. Fandral seemed to sense this, glancing away to shake his head. “I still cannot believe he did with seidr what no one managed with might.”
There was a lengthy pause, a silence that filled the air that was both comfortable and tense. Fandral glanced out a window, seeing the banners hanging from every available surface. Not the colors of the soon to be king, but Loki’s colors of muted green, gold, and black in remembrance. “He did.” Her words were quiet, but filled with passion.
“Sif?”
Sif jerked around and there was fire in her eyes. “He defeated Surtur with might and I will have words with any man who dares to say otherwise. He accomplished with magic what the bulk of the nine realms could not. He used deception to spare those foolish enough to listen to Tyr instead of him. And he used might to do what Mjolnir and Gungnir could not.” She was nodding to herself, finally walking on solid ground for the first time in what felt like centuries. “That will be my new task. To inspire Asgard to see the worth of our magical caste. We could invite Vanir and Elf spell casters here, to teach defensive and offensive spells. I will use Loki as the example to the enchanters of the realm to emulate.”
Fandral’s lip twitched even if there was still sadness wrapped around it. “I am not certain Asgard could survive the pranks if they were to truly follow his example.”
Her own lip twitched. “It will be a small price to pay. How many never came forward to learn to fight just because their strength was different than what Asgard embraced? They did so just to avoid the ridicule that Loki faced for most of his life. We will show them true courage.”
She was inspiring. The Sif that he remembered from long ago. It would be what Loki would want and he nodded before confiding softly. “I took note of the way he fought.” A style of fighting that he had sometimes wished he’d had the courage to use instead of the berserker tactics of brute strength that weren’t the best fit for him.
Sif nodded firmly. “Then you will show me and we will pass on his legacy.”
Fandral nodded in agreement. “Aye.”
Thor stared at himself in the mirror. He looked at the face of a man that would soon hold the lives of all Asgardians in his hands. A man who would soon be the king of Asgard. He desperately needed Loki to peer over his shoulder and softly say something to boost his waning confidence. He flinched and bowed his head as his heart squeezed painfully.
He would never again feel that mischievous presence at his side. He didn’t want this and he wished with every fiber of his being that this wasn’t reality. That he wouldn’t have to continue for another 5000 years alone. He would choose a queen when he was forced to and have a family again but he had lost all of them and he wasn’t certain he would ever get over that heartbreak.
A knock at his doors roused him and he spoke without turning, “Enter.”
Hogun walked in through one of the doors silently a moment later, closing it behind him. Thor strained to give a small smile that was little more than a grimace as he asked, “Is it time?”
“Almost.” Thor nodded absently at Hogun’s response, not moving away from the mirror but no longer looking at his reflection. At least not until Hogun’s question penetrated the fog of regret. “What weapon from the Vault did Loki use?”
Thor turned away from the mirror, showing Hogun his back as he crossed to Mjolnir. Loki had told him repeatedly that he had no skill in lying. Unfortunately his brother hadn’t been wrong. “He never consulted me on the matter. It is of no import. Asgard has won and lost, let us not dwell.”
Hogun ignored the blatant lie that now lay between then, choosing to attack this topic directly. “Only the Casket of Ancient Winter--…”
“Do not utter another word.” Thor whipped around to snap this. Mjolnir was in his hand and he pointed the weapon threateningly, temper in his eyes. “You will never speak of it. I will hear no disparaging words against my brother. None. Ever.”
It wasn’t the first time the warriors had seen Thor issue a threat. It wasn’t unheard for him to do so once daily. It was rare for that threat to be issued at one of them. Hogun was careful in his response but unafraid, speaking perhaps more than he had in the last century. He had heard the term Frost Giant used often enough in Asgard but he ensured that that word was not used now. “General Tyr has informed me that the Jötunn have a similar ceremony during specific times when an honored warrior falls. He has also informed me, and only me, that if we were to delay the funeral rites by half an hour we would be able to honor the customs of Lord Loki’s heritage by birth as well as the customs of the people he chose.”
Thor’s eyes widened incredulously. He wasn’t certain what surprised him more. That Hogun had spoken so much or that Tyr would act so honorably considering the animosity he had witnessed between the general and his brother. But he didn’t focus on any of this, asking the usually silent warrior softly, “How long have you known?”
Hogun again considered his words carefully before he responded, “It is the second time he has used that relic. A weapon to my knowledge that can only be wielded by the Jotnar.”
“You had no suspicion the first time?”
Hogun didn’t reply but then he didn’t have to. It wasn’t long before Loki was assumed dead after his fall. There wouldn’t have been a point for the quiet warrior to contemplate the origins of a dead man.
Thor’s jaw tightened, unsure why he even asked what he said next. “Is that why you never trusted him?”
Hogun’s brow furrowed as he thought carefully. Distrust between himself and Loki had been because the trickster’s actions often contradicted his words but it never had anything to do with race. It was also a distrust that had faded in recent months. It hadn’t disappeared completely. There would always be a wariness between them. But then only for a man or a king that he was loyal to would he obey without question, like he had to help ensure Surtur’s defeat.
But Hogun didn’t speak of that, instead he focused on what he believed. “It does not matter where a man or woman is born or their lineage. It is the choices that are made that matter.” He was silent because he usually found speaking unnecessary but today these words and this truth were important. “I was born Vanir but I chose to be Asgardian. Your mother did so as well.” As did many other citizens of Asgard. While the dominant species was AEsir, there was a wide variety of other races represented. He was also old enough and trusted enough to know of one other truth few remembered. “Half of your father’s lineage came from Jötunheim, but he chose to follow his AEsir blood.” He shrugged as if where Loki came from meant nothing. “Loki is Jötunn by birth, but he chose to be Asgardian. That is what matters.”
Thor jerked to stare at Hogun as the words slowly penetrated and understanding followed. Not just Hogun’s stance concerning the importance that some make of a circumstance of birth. The understanding that if Odin was half Jötunn, then that meant that there was a quarter of their blood in his own veins. Yet the horror and outrage that he would have felt a few years ago from learning that he had Jötunn blood in his veins was absent. If anything such news was a comfort. He had something in common with his brother. “Do the others know?”
They both knew Thor was specifically asking if the others of their group knew about Loki’s true origins. “If any do it would be Sif, but she has not spoken of it.”
A knock ended any further conversation and after a pause Sif entered with Fandral trailing. Her grim expression matched her attire and Thor found it fitting. He desperately wanted to delay the coronation, at least until after Asgard as well as himself had been allowed the opportunity to grieve properly but there was no one left to act as Steward.
The five slowly exchanged glances amongst one another before they turned as a unit to depart. There were still words to be expressed between each other but they would face the challenge of today with a united purpose and settle those issues another day.
Author's Notes:
I tried not to make you wait to long for the next portion. :D
Next:
Gathering a few missing pieces