9. The Library of Dreams
. . .
Thor watched the small ginger human dart from stack to stack in the great library nestled in the belly of Asgard's palace. The words in those great old tomes would be lost on the young man without his help, but Fitz seemed to find a useful interest in a number of the schematics even without it. Thor couldn't resist a grin that felt broad and young on a face prone to recent cynicism. The enthusiasm visible in Fitz's shaking hands was infectious. Here was a scientist in his element, placed humble and high amidst Gods. It made for a striking contrast against Stark, whom Thor would long consider before letting near this place. A good warrior and nigh a friend, but the Iron Man's ethics made Thor fret many hours.
It made up for the severe looks from a handful of the library's tenders. They flitted disapprovingly through the grand central hall to monitor the matter, but as long as their princes were here, they would say nothing outright. As was proper. He lifted his chin to get the young man's attention. "You hold a book regarding the science of propulsion so far out of date for us that even I might stumble over its archaic notes."
"This where you tell me it's where we might get in about fifty years if we hurry?" Fitz's eyes darted up to study him before tracing a finger in the air over the golden text and the mechanical lines accompanying them.
"My own guess based on experience is that your theories will diverge and thus you will find those ideas interesting but ultimately a waste of time. The matrix was not only fuel-dependent but relied on certain mineral priming. Fussy, as I dimly recall. A failed evolutionary line."
"Hmm." Fitz gently cradled the spine of the book as the corners of his mouth dipped inward. "Hmmm. Value in following different trains of thought, especially those so remarkably different... but on the other, I've not got a lot of time in here, do I?" Quick but gentle, he placed the book back on the shelf where he found it. Balled hands dropped onto his hips as Fitz looked up into Thor's face. "Okay. My original question, then. Got a Popular Mechanics: Bifrost Edition?"
Thor laughed, casting his head back enough to catch a glimpse of Loki high above in one of the more heavily restricted alcoves. The slender figure was moving fast towards the study tables with several tomes nestled in the crook of his elbow. Once upon a time that would have been a most common sight. Even a comforting one; the slow drone of a lecture on theoretical mage-work putting him to an easy afternoon nap more than once.
Fitz must have caught his look, lifting his head to see the same. "Is it all magic up there?"
"Not quite all, and of what there is, only those things that are not most proscribed." Thor looked down to catch the knotted together brows. "Those tomes are kept even deeper and some may even be lost down dusty hallways. Though I expect he knows yet where many of them are. Regardless. There are many disciplines to his art among the realms and beyond. We have a fair collection of these styles."
"Bet there's a whole cabinet just on chaos/order philosophy up there." Fitz grinned at the arched eyebrow on Thor's face. "I got to watch him and a couple other sorcerers talk a few times. I picked up the gist."
"Interesting lad." Thor extended a hand to him. "You will not find simple discussion here for your questions about our bridge. But there are a few minor tomes on some of the underpinning structure, some recently annotated when we reconstructed it. I'll help you through them."
Fitz beamed. "Wonderful!"
. . .
"And have you left the boy asleep in a happy nest of books well past his hungry comprehension?" Loki shut the book in his hand, reaching for the next. He looked tired, with a dull heaviness behind his eyes, but there was also some amusement behind a question whose answer he suspected.
"Near abouts. A familiar scene, I think." Thor settled himself atop a broad, thick desk of stone and ancient black wood, getting an automatic look of disapproval for it. On a similar instinctive reflex, he slid back off the desk and took the stool next to it instead. Old habits that neither of them recognized. He wrinkled his nose at the dusty air of the balcony rooms. "I've heard from Sif. Most of your friends have returned safely to their realm. Meanwhile, yon Coulson and the lady Johnson have been busy in the markets, asking questions and startling our people. He presses to visit the far starport before returning for the night, claiming that our strangeness pales next to the greater galaxy's wonders. His statement to his friend and fellow agent was, I quote direct from Sif's message, 'There's stuff over there that would blow your mind.'"
Loki snorted. "I'm always surprised the port's yet in permitted operation."
"Your many crimes against Asgard considering, there were a few decent public works decisions made while you sat the stolen throne." Thor allowed a grin at the sharp look he got. "I didn't bring it up for a fight, Loki. The port's presence has eased certain diplomatic snarls with the Corp, much less the Kree." Thor leaned back, crossing his arms as he remembered. "Speaking of, I would have thought perhaps you or Sif might have alerted me about the young lass's bloodline. Instead I discovered it through an incautious reference this morning at breakfast, after you left to begin your studies."
He got another look, this one loaded with a lot more cautious study. "Is that the fight you seek? She's a human girl, and has a place among her people." Loki brought up a hand before Thor could finish his protest. "Think carefully. I might have a stone to throw here."
"I worry more at the unveiling rise of those terrigen-changed along Midgard's surface than your friends and their loyalties." Thor picked his words carefully, catching both meaning and warning. "I seek no fight over that, either, only remain cautious of times to come. The girl is kind, if occasionally a living dervish. There will be others. And where will they stand, if they have no friends and no purpose like this one?"
The black head shook from side to side, another book gently set down on the desk near where Thor sat. "I have no answer yet. I focus on this riddle alone for now. All things in their time."
"And what progress is there on your riddle? Will you tell me more fully what you have in mind?"
Loki put a hand on the book he'd just placed, the thin face smoothing over into the old, unreadable mask. Then it tightened again and he pulled another stool over to sit himself down upon it. He remained quiet.
Thor watched his expressions change, wondering what lay behind them. "What you told me of Coulson's encounter with the All-Father... I yet find it hard to believe that our answer hides there. Father has been forever steadfast. Asgard is his life, his duty. He is the kingdom, in and out." Thor leaned back, resting against the desk. "For him to threaten it, be the root of our doom, what would that possibly mean?"
"So it would be best to rule it out." Loki glanced up to examine the expression in his eyes. "Not my preference, not my wish. But it is the tactical option. No less a reason, this possibility entire comes from someone whose instincts in these sort of things tend to be surprisingly reliable."
Thor considered that. Yes, Coulson did have a good eye for people. The human's honor itself spoke much for Loki's current status. If he thought he saw something awry in the All-Father... hard to believe. But possible. "And by what method? Have you found one?"
Much to his surprise, Loki looked away with a bleak expression. He tightened his mouth. "One, yes. And there are two wrinkles to it." He looked back. "The first is ethical. It will amount to seeing what should not be seen, and I would be at risk for denying the privacy of a king's scout. There are things I can do to mitigate this, but it is a heavy choice to make. I suggest to see through his faithful eyes, you understand. And his eyes see much."
Thor's face clouded, comprehending what he meant.
"I do not come to this lightly. It must be agreed upon before I act and we will have to bear that this is a crime of no small accord. The second is... logistical in its nature." He waited, searching Thor's face.
"My fears run deep." Thor looked down to follow ancient cracks in the library tile with his gaze. His next question was muttered and meant for himself. "Are they deep enough to agree to this?"
In his mind lurked the witch's vision – all life in Asgard bound to a maddened eternity in the depths of Hel, bound by rags and crested with the skulls of monsters and beasts. Whether literal or only symbolic of some great disaster meant to obliterate the realm, it frightened him in a way that went through the bone and chilled into the marrow. The loss, the despair, the risk that he would contribute to this disaster somehow. A destroyer, said that dead, mad Heimdall. He had been a destroyer. How? What did the Norns mean to show him? "I remember a thing our mother said often. That there should be no secrets in a family."
"Kindly. Noble. And I am not certain it is the truth. The last she said that to me..." Loki's voice faltered. "It wasn't a particularly good time."
"I want to not be afraid, Loki. Is that selfish?"
The slender chest heaved in a soft sigh. "If it is, I cannot fault you for it." He patted the book under his palm. "The logistical wrinkle: I do not have the requisite tools here for this particular form of augury. I need a particular kind of nexus, a lens, a core-power nestled at the heart of certain dedicated threads of magic. A crux and vinculum designed for this purpose. This is in itself a great if archaic working, the kind of obscure magical architecture that a school or coven would create and maintain over years for their study. The good news is, if I can access an established core, I can harness it just fine." He paused, the tension coming back into his face. "The bad news is that we have relative access to two such possible constructs and I like neither of them. And the one I like less is, much to my dismay, the better option."
Thor saw a discomfort growing in his brother to match his own. "Where?"
"Muspelheim, for one." Loki managed a slight smile at Thor's abrupt wince, studying the dark blue cover of the book on the desk. "A little unpleasant, but there are old bastions where idiots attempted to bargain with the more demonic locals. I could survive it, but there are also no certainties that what I require is there. And no one to ask. Not much backup. Little hot. Small problems, you understand."
"Already I would prefer the other in your stead."
"Would you?" He didn't look up. "I can try the other, but." He stopped. A muscle jumped in his jaw, tightening in a line down his throat. Thor heard something click in his throat when he spoke again. "No certainties there, either, though I'm to understand they've reignited certain older ways. Peace there might be, but it's a risk. There's a great many risks for me walking into that situation. Is that selfish to mention?"
"Loki." He knew instantly, and his heart dropped into his belly. Thor tugged the book from underneath Loki's hand, almost surprised that he let it go without a fight. "I cannot ask you to risk jotnar wrath for my fears. Set the books aside, we'll find another way. If our father is in shadow, we will draw him out somehow and not risk further damnation."
"There might not be another method, and your fears chew on time as a possible factor. In my experience, you cannot let such things fester for long. I will try, if that is what is required." Loki still didn't look at him.
Thor stood up, banging his fist once on the desk. The force behind it painted the slash of a wince across the pale face. "No. For all our conflict, I won't ask this. I can't ask it. The ice is where all this damned pain began for us, an abyss in all our lives."
"The place I ultimately started to lose my mind," Loki muttered, so low Thor nearly missed it. He raised his voice to its normal volume, still calm. "And what if doom chases too quickly to be otherwise stopped?"
"Then let it come and be ended with honor!" Thor found himself biting off a snap. He waved it off. "Enough. We've lost enough in this family, in this kingdom. What's left should not be thrown aside so lightly. Not for my fears. I need more than a night's terror before asking too much of another. I won't ask for that, Loki."
Loki closed his eyes before nodding slowly. He looked pained. "I'll keep looking for now."
Thor ran a hand down his face to calm himself, resolving to consider other possibilities. Perhaps some way of approaching the All-Father himself. "As you must. I'll tend to Fitz below, seek out if Sif has further news. Dinner will be quiet tonight, I think. I hope."
"At sunset?" He glanced up for the nod Thor gave him before departing, the book he'd taken away still clasped in one broad hand. "Yes. Of course."
. . .
Loki waited until Thor was fully out of sight before reaching inside his tunic for the other book he'd hidden away. The correct one – what Thor took from him was a simple volume of aeromancy, written in a tongue just complex enough to complete the ruse. "Thank you," he said, the soft words not echoing at all in the still library air. "That is what I needed to hear."
