Chapter Eleven—An Assassin's Truths
Warnings: Violence, Swearing.
A/N: ...oh, hey. I'm back! Life decided to happen and time got away from me, but enough of that! On with the chapter!
Fulla carefully balanced the tray on her forearms as she reached for the latch to the queen's chambers. The princess had barred herself in for the evening after yet another day of dancing lessons. If she was being optimistic, Fulla would say that they had gone rather well and that she would surely had the dance perfected well in time for the wedding only three nights hence. But, if she was being honest—which Sigyn would insist on—she would have to admit that there really was much to be desired.
The maid sighed. The princess seemed to know this already and had refused to eat with Mim, Menglad, and her after the day's lessons concluded. Now, it being well past dinner time, Sigyn had yet to appear in the dining hall and Fulla suspected she would be hungry. After practically begging the head cook for a loaf of bread, a mug of ale—she knew that the princess didn't drink, but Fulla also knew she would want something stronger than water—and a wedge of sharp Jotun cheese, Fulla had gathered it all on a wooden tray and made the winding journey through the many halls and staircases of Utgard.
Bumping the latch before using her foot to nudge the door the rest of the way open, Fulla peered into the darkness of the parlor. Frowning at this, she ventured farther into the room. Glancing about with the aid of the silvery light shed from the moon filtering in through the windows, she could easily see that Sigyn had been occupying the settee and reading or writing something—the candles on the side table had burned themselves out. Setting the tray down on the ornate dresser below the carving of past Jotun queens, Fulla ventured silently from the parlor towards the opened door of the bedchamber.
If Sigyn had managed to sleep so early, Fulla did not wish to waken her. It wasn't surprising in the least and was for the best. After all, with all the stress that the princess had been undergoing not only since her arrival to Utgard but also ever since the proposition of the treaty, it was understandable to be in want of sleep. Fulla strongly believed that sleep was the best cure for anything. It was an enormous relief at times, just to relax and retreat into one's mind.
As she carefully peered into the bedchamber, Fulla only had a moment's comprehension that the bed was still perfectly made without any sign of Sigyn within it. Before a frown could form across her face, the maid briefly caught sight of something being swung directly at her, a scream piercing the air that she would later be told was hers. Sheering pain, red blurring her vision, overwhelmed her senses before her body seemed to default to its natural reaction—a faint.
Mim was strolling along the south wing third floor corridor, tossing an apple that he had nicked from the kitchens lazily from hand to hand. He grinned faintly as he watched the rise and fall of the fruit that matched the rhythm of his steps, feeling quite pleased with himself. After taking his evening meal with Fulla and his mother, Menglad had practically dragged him back to her personal chambers in Utgard to have a 'chat'—as she phrased it to Fulla—who seemed to think nothing of the matter despite the pleading glances from Mim to aid him in his plight.
Whether he liked it or not, Mim soon after found himself sitting awkwardly in his mother's personal reception room with a cup of piping hot tea in his hands—despite his mound of sugar, it still tasted like dirty stockings to him—being stared down by Menglad. He had to endure a lecture on how she wasn't going to live forever and she would haunt him from the afterlife if he allowed the proud line of Gastropnir to end with him. Then she went on to badger him about the candidates to be the next Lady of Gastropnir—Mim briefly wondered on his own father's sanity at choosing his mother as his wife but wisely decided not to voice these thoughts—which then led to a rather awkward conversation on his opinion of Fulla.
Menglad had assured him that, though not ideal, his marriage to an Asgardian—such as Fulla—would not be too horrible. After all, it would be a sign of good faith and support of the king's own marriage to a foreigner while also providing Gastropnir a lady that would be so desperately needed when Menglad traveled onto Helheim. Not to mention a way for the continuation of the noble line of Gastropnir. Though not ideal—and they should certainly not abandon searching within Jotunheim for a wife—it could be acceptable.
At this, Mim was divided between amusement and mortifying embarrassment; though, he reasoned, he really should be accustomed to his mother's antics and not be affected by them. Though, he was saved from replying when he realized the lateness of the hour and cunningly spun the lie that the king had requested a meeting with the advisors to prepare for the fast-approaching wedding. Not allowing her to question him on why it was to be held so late and why she wasn't requested to attend as well, Mim had hastened from her chambers with all speed.
Nipping down to the kitchens for an apple, Mim now strolled along, relishing in his own cleverness. Swiping the apple out of the air, he took a bite from it, letting the juice dribble down his chin before mopping it up with his sleeve. It was his own small form of rebelling against his mother; abusing his clothes whenever possible. Just then he paused in his stride.
Echoing distantly through the corridors from the southwest corner of the palace was a shrill scream of someone, most likely a woman from the pitch. Mim took only a moment's comprehension before he sprang forward, dashing down the corridor at full tilt, the apple laying forgotten in the middle of the hallway. The only residences in the southwest corner of Utgard were in the tower, and, more specifically, the queen's chambers.
Rounding a corner, Mim caught sight of a trio of guards cautiously proceeding down the west hallway towards him. Not having any time for formalities, Mim snapped, "Two of you come with me and the third go to the bell tower. Tell the bell-keepers to sound the alarm." There was a beat of silence as Mim paused for two of the guards to follow him but was only met with the trio blinking at him in silent confusion. "Now!" he barked.
That seemed to jolt them into motion as one peeled away from his fellows, hurrying back the way they came, while the other two fell into stride behind Mim as he continued. It was a short stretch from the intersection of the halls and the base of the winding stairs that led to the queen's chambers which they covered in barely a moment's time. Not paying much mind to his protesting leg muscles as he pounded up the stairs, Mim dashed up the spiraling staircase, climbing with all speed to the chamber door. Not waiting to knock, Mim burst into the parlor of the chambers.
He was met with silence and the room seemed to be empty, as far as he could tell with the light shed by the moon. Drawing his sword from its sheathe at his hip, Mim advanced forward with caution, stepping lightly so as not to alert any adversaries that may be lurking in the shadows of his movements. Flicking two fingers at the guards and then towards the door that led from the parlor, Mim signaled for them to fall into ranks behind him, ready to defend each other from an ambush.
It was a hard task navigating around the lavish furnishing of the parlor without a single noise being made, but finally, Mim was standing before the door to the queen's bedchamber. Taking a moment to steel his nerves for the absolute worst, he kicked the door open with all his force, charging in with his sword brandished. Chaos ensued.
Mim and the guards burst into the queen's bedchamber to find three black-clad men—assassins by the grappling equipment and knives they wore at their belts—and Fulla unconscious on the floor, most likely knocked out. Just the sight of the maid's crumpled form on the floor kindled a blazing fury within Mim's chest. Not waiting a single moment, he launched himself at the nearest assassin, letting out a savage battle cry.
The man, taken aback at the sudden sight and vicious noise of Mim, was stunned for a fleeting moment. But, when he caught sight of Mim's glinting steel cutting through the air, he barely managed to bring up his hooked dirks—Svartalfheim in style—to stop the attack from separating his head from his shoulders. Mim, not unused to battling a foe wielding the particular type of dagger, hurriedly withdrew from the brief lock the blades had been in. To allow his blade to be locked with the dirks would be a deadly mistake, seeing as the hooks could easily leverage his weapon from his hands.
Mim stood his ground, his eyes narrowing as the assassin danced away from him, careful not to allow the slightest of openings in his defense for his foe to take. The two observed each other for a brief moment. Judging by the assassin's movements, the dirk wasn't the only thing that was Svartalfheim. The other man moved with the nimble grace of a fighter trained in the forested country. The thought briefly came across his mind that there would be no prompting or gain that Svartalfheim could have with attempting to stage an assassination on the soon-to-queen of Jotunheim. But then, those were thoughts for later as he had his life, and that of Fulla's, to defend.
The barest flash of moonlight on a blade was the only indication that the assassin was swiping his blades down in an attack. Acting more on instinct than thought, Mim barely managed to duck his head to the side in time to keep the dirk from biting into his skin. With practiced reflexes drilled into his memory, Mim thrust his sword forward at this exact moment, taking the assassin, who held the advantage mere moments before, by surprise. Righting his stance Mim was faced with the shocked expression of the other man, his eyes wide with surprise and mouth open in shock.
Then, he yanked his blade out of the man's abdomen, scarlet coating the silver steel. Blood welled in the assassin's stomach as well as his mouth, pouring out as if it was his final words. The assassin desperately clawed at the wound in his stomach, attempting to press the fatal wound closed. It was of little use though as he staggered from his feat and onto the plush carpet that matted the floor, crimson staining the yellow thread. Turning from the sight, Mim set his face so as it wouldn't betray his horror at killing a man—typically a honorable accomplishment in Jotun culture—before hurrying to the aid of his comrades that seemed to be having a harder time of disengaging their foes.
With Mim's added efforts, the remaining assassins were soon bound and gagged though only after being knocked unconscious by rather blunt thumps to their heads from Mim's sword hilt. Gasping for air as he attempted to wipe the sweat from his face, Mim finally knelt at Fulla's side, thankful to see she was unharmed save for the angry red bump adorning her forehead. "Fulla?" he asked, gently shaking her shoulder.
She grumbled something incoherent in response to this as she rolled onto her side, curling against Mim, asleep. Taking up her hand, he kissed it affectionately before returning it to rest at her side. Clamoring to his feet, he turned to the guards, both of whom were busying themselves with adjusting the captives' bounds and adamantly avoiding gawking at Mim's improper show of devotion. "One of you is to remain here to guard the prisoners, though I doubt that they shall reawaken soon," Mim said, his tone indicating that he wasn't to be questioned. "And the other is to take the Maid Fulla to the palace physician."
"Yes, sir," both the guards saluted smartly. Without further pause, Mim hastened from the queen's chambers in all speed. The mere fact that three assassins, presumably trained in Svartalfheim, had snuck into the walls of Utgard was reason enough for alarm. But to be within the queen's own personal chambers was a crisis. The King had to be informed without a moment to be spared.
As Mim bolted for Loki's personal study—the one sure place the King was sure to be at that time of night—the alarm bells began to sound. Mim sighed and rolled his eyes; the bell-keepers really didn't know the meaning of haste.
"I heard Fulla's scream and I went running for the queen's chamber. I found them in the bedchamber. There were three of them," Mim summarized hurriedly as he dogged Loki's steps. Typically, with the scene that Mim had interrupted, he would have been teasing his friend for all that he was worth, but now they were no longer simply friends. Instead, they were a king and his royal advisor, and there was little room for joking with the current crisis at hand.
"Were?" questioned Loki.
"One has been killed," Mim replied with a short nod. "The other two are bound and gagged—presumably still unconscious."
"Any ideas on who hired them?" Loki questioned as they pounded up the steps of the southwest tower.
"They wielded Svartalfheim weaponry and were trained in their fighting style," Mim answered before adding, "Though it seems out of place. We have strong trading ties with Svartalfheim."
Loki nodded absently as he strode through the queen's sitting room and burst through the door into the bedchamber. Upon sight of the king, the guard snapped to attention. It took only a moment for Loki to take in the sight of the two bound assassins, the third's body already removed but his blood stains remaining, and the guard that stood dutifully before his sovereign.
"Thank you, sir guard, but I have use for you elsewhere. If you would have a servant make up one of the more sizable guest chambers and then send for the collection of the Princess Sigyn from my personal library and to escort her there. Also, have the captain of the guard dispatch a search throughout the palace for further intrusion whilst doubling the guard. Send four or so men here after that is done to collect these assassins for the dungeons," Loki instructed, his voice reminiscent of Laufey. "I do not want a single fly leaving or entering Utgard without my knowing of it."
"Yes sir," nodded the guard, saluting before hurrying to do the king's bidding.
Taking up post at the door while watching his friend warily, Mim wisely decided to hold his tongue for once, instead simply observing Loki's actions. The king paused for a moment as he seemed to analyze the assassins before he held out a palm, a small orb of blue soon forming, and tipped it over the heads of the two bound men. Mim, though used to his friend's tricks, watched with amazement as the blue orb turned into water that splashed over their heads and dripped onto the already stained carpet.
The assassins woke with jolts at the water jumpstarted their systems into consciousness. Not allowing them a moment of thought to either speak or even realize their current situation, Loki waved his hand, mumbling a string of words under his breath that sounded like ancient Jotish—Mim couldn't be certain, he had slept through most of those lessons as a boy. "You have been bound by a truth-telling charm. To each of my questions, you must and will only be able to respond with the truth and nothing but," Loki informed the two men. They stared back at him in wide-eyed terror. Neither daring to blink in fear of being hexed in the bare milliseconds between when they closed their eyelids and opened them again.
From that look in their eyes, it was easy to read that they knew exactly who stood before them. Loki, holding himself at his full height with his golden crown resting upon his brow, looked every bit the king he was. For some odd reason that Mim could hardly fathom, he was suddenly proud of his friend.
"Is that completely clear?" questioned Loki. The two men bobbed their heads hurriedly. "Good, I shall remove your gags then." With another wave of his hand, the knots of the gags undid themselves and fluttered down to rest on the stone flooring before the men. "Mim, would you care to join me?" Loki said, indicating his royal advisor to come stand at his side.
"Well, I thought you'd never ask," chuckled Mim as he abandoned his post, smiling brightly. Now that the immediate danger had passed, he decided it seemed quite proper to cheer up the tense mood with a bit of his humor.
Loki ignored him. "Tell me your names," demanded the King.
"I am Scirner," replied the man on the left who bore a nasty scar that ran from his left temple to the corner of his mouth.
"And I am Gleipnir," the other replied, seeming surprised that the words had so easily slipped from his mouth; his black, thick brows furrowing at this. Just as Mim had suspected, both men were from Svartalfheim, judging by their thick accents unaccustomed to speaking Common Tongue.
"So you're both of Svartalfheim?" prompted Loki.
Scirner glowered, yet nodded mutely nonetheless while Gleipnir said a hasty, "Yes."
"Who sent you to assassinate the princess?" questioned Mim, cutting in before Loki had a chance to ask his next question.
Silence followed this question. The two assassins traded looks before Scirner clamped his mouth shout while Gleipnir seemed to be attempting to choke down the answer in his throat. Both of their faces turned an extraordinary shade of vivid purple. Loki sighed at the sight, saying, "There's no use in trying to fight the spell. It suffocates you until you give an answer." Scirner's glower worsened at this.
"It's strange how honorable assassins are," Mim observed dryly. "Not wanting to reveal their employer." Loki resolutely ignored him. A pause followed, in which Mim took up humming a cheery drinking tune that made the king glare at him in annoyance.
Just when Loki was about to lose his patience—both at the assassins and at Mim—Gleipnir took a deep, rattling breath of air and managed to wheeze out, "A Jotun lord."
"What?" Mim exclaimed in disbelief at the same moment as Loki demanded in a dangerously low growl, "Who?"
The royal advisor glanced warily over at the king; he knew that tone of voice. He had only heard it twice in his memory and never from Loki. It was Laufey's most dangerous tone, when he was so enraged that the only fate for the person that caused his anger was death. If the king was merciful, then it would simply be a beheading by the king's swift sword. If he was vengeful, which he usually was, it would be slow, gruesome torture. Mim suddenly felt pity towards the assassins.
Scirner, his tone scornful, replied, "We received the commission nearly two weeks ago, just after when the announcement arrived in Svartelfheim of the engagement between the Asgardian princess and the Jotun savage." Loki's actions were so rapid that Mim barely had time to register them.
The King sprang forward, grabbing hold of the assassin's tongue from within his own mouth. Whilst he wrenched it out, his other hand unsheathed his dagger. The tongue was sliced off and tossed carelessly onto the floor in matter of moments. Mim disdainfully toed it away from him.
At this Gleipnir raised an eyebrow. The other assassin seemed almost impressed by this and said, respect in his voice, "The commission was sent with full payment—which is odd since typically we only get half before and the rest after the assassination is successfully completed—as well as a map on how to enter Utgard and climb up to the queen's chambers unobserved." Scirner, who was clutching at the empty space in his mouth, sent a warning look at his colleague but Gleipnir ignored him.
"Do you know the motives behind the commission?" Mim questioned.
Gleipnir shook his head. "I do not. As a hired assassin, we do not ask questions as long as get full payment."
"But do you know who the Jotun lord was?" demanded Loki, leering menacingly.
Unfazed yet still showing an uncanny sort of reverence for the king, Gleipnir replied, "The commission was sent from Lord Thiazi of Thrymheim."
"Fulla!" cried Sigyn at the sight of her maid entering into the parlor. She had been waiting around in the guest chambers she was to stay in for the evening, attempting to be patient for the return of her maid. After being escorted to her new rooms, Sigyn asked after the whereabouts of her maid. When informed that Fulla was being attended to by the physician, it took at least four servants to restrain the princess from running off through the palace in search of her maid—that not being the safest of things for Sigyn to do at that moment. So, she had plopped herself down on one of the chaise lounge chairs and attempted to distract herself with stroking her cat.
"Sigyn—" began Fulla before she was cut off with the princess wrapping her in fierce embrace.
"I was so worried about you! When I heard about the assassins in my chambers, I feared the worst," Sigyn said, sincerely as she led Fulla over to sit on one of the couches arranged in the guest chambers' parlor, sitting opposite her in the chaise. The maid blinked in surprise at this.
She knew that Sigyn viewed her as a close companion, but the princess' face showed a true, deep relief. What Fulla didn't know was that she was the kindest, most honest, and genuine person that Sigyn had ever met. The princess held her maid's friendship in the highest of regards.
"Yes, I heard it took a small army to keep you from running off into the palace in search of me," Fulla replied, a teasing smile across her face. That smile was suddenly startled from her when the black cat pounced onto her lap, curling into the folds of her simple brown dress in her lap. "Who's this?"
"A kitten the King gave to me," Sigyn explained before adding, wanting to avoid the tale of the cat and all that happened before for as long as possible, "I'll explain that once you tell what has happened. I know of the assassins in my rooms, but tell me of what happened to you."
"Well, I took my evening meal with Menglad and Mim…" began Fulla, her voice soon adopting the soothing rhythmic quality to it that she always spoke in when she told her tales. Sigyn listened silently, though it was hard not to interject when Fulla described being knocked unconscious. The maid added in the parts about Mim battling and killing one of the assassins, as she had been informed when she awoke at the physician's, and concluded with saying, "I was unharmed save for this."
The maid brushed aside her sandy brown curls that obscured her forehead, revealing an angry red bump. "Oh my!" exclaimed Sigyn, "Does it hurt? Are you alright? Do you want me to call for something? A cold compress perhaps?"
Fulla waved her off with a laugh. "Don't worry over me. The physician put a balm on that took away the throb. It should be gone by tomorrow evening." Sigyn nodded to this, contented by this answer before Fulla asked, "How about you? Are you alright?"
Sigyn gave Fulla a searching look before sighing, saying, "Yes, I'm frightened, if that's what you mean. But, being Asgardian, I'm too damn stubborn to admit it to myself."
Fulla laughed at that, making the cat meow at her. "Oh, sorry, dear," the maid apologized to the cat with a grin before inquiring to Sigyn. "How did you come by this one?"
The princess took a deep breath, feeling the dread inside of her grow. She had been attempting to ignore it from fear of it gnawing away at her mind. There was no use in worrying about something that was in the past and couldn't be undone. But now that it was time to actually speak the words aloud to someone, a great anxiety seemed to wash over her.
"I was writing a letter to Balder, which I still need to post," Sigyn began, fishing the crumpled scroll from the pouch at her belt, frowning at it before setting it aside. Then she took a deep breath and began to tell her own tale of the night's adventures. "Then Mim came bursting in with the news of the assassins and I was left with the kitten," she concluded.
Fulla was silent for a beat before she said bluntly, "You broke your vow." The maid did not think much of the Jotun marriage traditions—she found them quite daft, really—but there was still the fact that Sigyn had given her solemn oath to uphold her vows. Albeit, she did not break them on purpose.
"I know!" Sigyn exclaimed, burying her face into her hands. "I don't know what to do! The one vow I had to uphold before the marriage, I broke! Some ancient Jotun curse is probably going to smite me at any second! I ruined the treaty before it even could be solidified. What am I supposed to do? Should I ask Mim for help—I mean he saw us together—but he would even know what to do to help?" The more the princess talked, the more her speech became slurred and hurried, betraying her panic.
The maid, alarmed at the state of her friend, said, "Sigyn!" She abruptly cut herself off. Fulla continued, soothingly, "Breathe deeply and think calmly. There is nothing we can do tonight. You must get some sleep so we can deal with this in the morning." Sigyn opened her mouth to protest, but Fulla was already up with the cat tucked under her arm and bustling about, preparing for bed. "By the way, I think I know what we should name him, the cat, I mean. I think we should name him Loptr."
"What are you going to do with them?" questioned Mim, running a hand through his thick brown curls, making them stick even more precariously than before into the air; deciding to handle at least one of the problems at hand. He glanced up at the king who strode back and forth, pacing just before the dais where Mim had seated himself, both of them retiring to the throne room.
"With the assassins?" questioned Loki, pausing in his stride. "Scirner will be sent into the Arena. If the gods are merciful he shall die within a week at the hands of another warrior. Gleipnir, on the other hand, I shall appoint as a guard."
Mim's thick brows rose so that they disappeared underneath his brown curls upon hearing this. "How are you planning on avoiding getting a dagger in your back?"
"I will place spells on him but I doubt they are necessary," replied Loki before continuing his pacing. Mim frowned, wanting to protest that Gleipnir should simply be sent with his fellow assassins into the Arena, but wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. He was the royal advisor, but he knew it was best to not offer his advice at that particular moment. Mim's silence was rewarded as Loki began to speak, "We can't blatantly accuse him. To do so would cause civil war. He holds the largest number of banner-men of all the warlords and he could easily sway at least half of the lords to his side immediately if he were to rise against me."
Knowing Loki spoke of Thiazi, Mim questioned, "Couldn't you cast a truth spell on him before the whole court? Question him as you did the assassins?"
"No, I couldn't say the words of the spell without him being aware of it. He would immediately be insulted for me not trusting him even after he swore his allegiance to me," Loki replied shaking his head. "That would be an act worthy of war to him." Mim nodded in agreement. Jotun warlords were short-tempered, even the composed and dignified Thiazi. The slightest of insults could push any one of them over the brink of war. There had been many squabbles between lords laced throughout Jotunheim's history, though not since the Asgardians began their invasion.
"Well, what of the other half of the warlords?" prompted Mim, returning to the first option.
Loki paused in his pacing to frown at Mim. "The other half are the weak ones that Thiazi sees no need in having their loyalty. Even with them, I would be dethroned and executed within a week of Thiazi declaring war."
"What if you gained the trust of the greatest warlords beside Thiazi before he did?" questioned Mim.
"What, ask them all over for a pot of tea and then say, 'oh, by the way, the man you fear the most tried to have my to-be wife murdered, care to join me against him?'" Loki shot back, sarcastically. "I couldn't even talk to them without Thiazi becoming aware of it."
"Ah, but you forget, Loki, that I am the royal advisor and I have a special way of going about things," Mim replied with a grin. Loki raised an eyebrow and Mim took that as a prompt to continue, "Well, you see, along with arranging the arrival of the fair princess, I have been keeping up with gossip around not only the palace but the country."
"And what, exactly, does gossip have anything to do with our current crisis?" Loki demanded, irritable.
"You see, I've been receiving certain whispers from around the country that certain warlords don't entirely like nor trust a certain lord of Thrymheim," Mim replied. He paused before adding with a bright smile, "I'll fetch a map then, shall I?" Loki nodded his agreement to this. Mim bounced to his feet and practically skipped from the throne room, returning in a handful of minutes with a map, inkpot, and quill in hand.
Setting themselves up at one of the side tables, the king and royal advisor poured over the map of Jotunheim before them. Dipping the quill in the ink, Mim quickly underlined three names. "Fimagard, Eldirheim, and Griotungard," Mim proclaimed when this was completed. "Of course, I would add Gastropnir onto the list, but you already have our loyalty." Loki briefly smiled at his friend before inspecting the map closely.
"Aurentil, Vidar, and Skadi," mumbled Loki, naming each lord of those regions. He remembered each of their battles well. Skadi had been the most challenging of the three; wielding a pair of deadly fast daggers, while Aurentil fought with cunning strategy and Vidar a sort of silent resilience.
"Each of them shamed by Thiazi in one way or another," Mim said before tapping the little dot that read Fimagard. "Aurentil was to lead a night skirmish on a nearby Asgardian garrison that had been terrorizing his people. Thiazi swept in and burnt down the garrison the night before Aurentil planned to, taking away the glory of his fight." Now Mim tapped Eldirheim. "When Vidar was only sixteen, he was humiliated by the much more seasoned Thiazi in a sword duel in front of Vidar's betrothed. Thiazi then married the young girl." Mim finally tapped Griotungard. "Skadi was in love with Thiazi's daughter but he denied the marriage on the basis that Griotungard was not powerful enough nor was Skadi worthy."
"How have I never heard of these events before?" questioned Loki, surprised.
"All too minor of dealings to be taken to royalty," Mim replied with a shrug.
Frowning, Loki said, "From now on, no matter how small the matter, if it involves my warlords, I wish to know." Mim nodded to this before they returned to the map. "Fimagard commands the trade routes from the east to the mountains of Thrymheim. Aurentil could easily block supplies of wheat, flour, and all grains. Eldirheim has the second most banner-men after Thiazi, certainly the most well trained warriors, while Griotungard has the richest trade and agriculture. With their loyalty, I would have some chance against Thiazi's wrath."
"And Gastropnir is third wealthiest and well-armed," added Mim with chuckle.
Loki grinned slightly at this before asking, "Are you absolutely certain they still feel vengeful against Thiazi?"
"Very sure," Mim replied, confidently.
"Good," Loki nodded, resolutely. "I want messages sent to them immediately. Write that we shall meet this very night in the war chamber. I shall set spells on it so that we won't be overheard or noticed at this late hour."
Mim grinned mischievously at this before Loki added, "And remembered to send a message to Menglad as well."
"Why most you ruin all my fun?" Mim complained. Loki just smiled innocently back before striding from the throne room.
A/N: So, we're beginning to come to the end of the first arc of the story. New characters are being introduced as we gear up towards the next big points of the story! Excitement is about to ensue. Also, I really apologize for the long wait for this. I'm going to try to get regular updates going again, though not every day like they were at first. I hope this latest chapter was worth the wait, though! Thanks for reading and please leave a comment, question, or what-have-you!
