Author's notes: In which Balder demonstrates his behind-your-back skills (someone watched his big brother Loki), and Tom starts to suspect he needs to look up 'friendship' in a dictionary. (or: in which the author doesn't know what to put in the author's notes)
Warnings: All magic comes with a price.
Ruby fixed herself a cup of tea, cursing her clumsiness when her trembling hands caused her to scald herself. Tom took over at this point.
"It's Kathryn," Ruby said, still shocked. "David Nolan's wife."
Nolan. Tom had seen him a number of times. He had never interacted with the man personally, but there was something about him that seemed ridiculously familiar. He nodded to indicate he knew whom Ruby was speaking of.
"But Kathryn's dead," Ruby continued shakily. "I… I found her heart, Tom. They were taking Mary Margaret away for the murder today…"
"Miss Blanchard?" Tom questioned. "She's hardly the sort to inflict harm upon someone." And he knew exactly what sort of people inflicted harm upon others. Mayor Mills and Mr. Gold were among the town's number.
"I know, but all the evidence…" Ruby shook her head. "I'm so confused." Tom silently handed her a steaming mug of tea, and she thanked him. "This town just keeps getting freakier."
Tom nodded agreement, sitting beside her and pulling a book out of his inside pocket and opening it to the marker. The Fellowship of the Ring, at Madge's behest. Tom was already halfway through Ruby looked over at him and laughed, and Tom looked back at her quizzically.
"You really suck at this whole comforting-friend thing, you know?" she said.
Tom blinked a moment before saying, "I don't have any friends."
"Matthew would disagree," Ruby replied. "That kid is practically your shadow. Or maybe you're his, considering all the mayhem he drags you into."
"Isn't this supposed to be about you?" Tom said dryly. Ruby only smiled and drank her tea, nerves gradually soothing. Tom sat next to her, silently reading his book. He seemed to have chosen not to leave, and that was soothing too, at least a little. Ruby was calm enough to go back to work sometime later.
Tom watched her for a short while before he was satisfied that Ruby was alright. He tucked the Tolkien book back into his coat's interior pocket, then picked up his dinner and went home to the library. It wasn't until he bumped into Lillian that he realized he had been gone more than half of his workday. But Lillian laughed his concern away and said they had all of seven visitors that day, and he had absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.
Tom had the most peculiar boss, he thought at times. Lillian didn't leave right away and turned to face him. "Tom, do you happen to have, oh, an hour or two free on Saturday?" she asked.
"I believe so," Tom replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Do you know Charlene Boxer?" Lillian sent a question in return. Tom shook his head. "She's a lovely woman, you'd like her. Charlene is expecting, but since her husband, Benjamin, died in action overseas, she's all alone in the house they had been hoping to fill. So she's invited me to come stay with her, and the little one will be joining us in another month."
"It sounds as though you'll be quite happy in sharing quarters," Tom said politely.
"Charlene and I have known each other for quite some time," Lillian said, and her tone was fond. "It feels like she's my daughter. So, shall you be able to lend a hand?" she came back to the original question."If you don't mind helping, that is."
"Not at all," Tom replied.
"I'll donate most of my books to the library," Lillian said. "Except for the children's ones, those will stay for Charlene's baby. There will be a lot of things I won't be taking with me, perhaps I can pawn them to Mr. Gold. There ought to be a fair bit of extra money to put towards the monthly rent on the library."
"Whoa, steady on, Lillian," Tom said. "You're only changing houses, not leaving the library!"
"I don't know, Tom," Lillian replied honestly, and didn't fail to notice the slight widening of her assistant's eyes. "I've been giving a lot of thought to retirement lately—I am nearly seventy, you know. Not getting any younger."
"Oh. Of course." Tom's expression was strained.
"There is someone I've been thinking of asking to take over the position of librarian, but eh…" Lillian glanced sideways at Tom and restrained a giggle. "I don't know if they're interested." As always, Tom still didn't catch on. Lillian shook her head lightly and said goodnight, trusting Tom to finish locking everything down. He always did.
Once Lillian was gone, Tom slipped into the library and nestled in the security of his small room. Sticking the occasional piece of his lasagna dinner in his mouth, Tom's eyes traveled across his book's pages, finding great pleasure in devouring the masterpiece Madge had introduced him to. It was a good thing The Fellowship of the Ring had successors.
Finally Tom forced himself to a halt as he finished the first book, tucking his marker (a green ribbon) at the first page of The Two Towers. Relaxed, his head full of good tale and his belly full of good meal, he laid back on his bed and fell asleep. Sadly, it did not take his dreams long to turn dark.
It was far into the night when Balder and the others at last rode back into the haven town. They were each exhausted, but Balder especially, for something troubled his mind still and he had not yet told the others what it was. Nor did he feel obligated to do so, especially after the treachery of Sif.
They dismounted and unsaddled their steeds, releasing them to graze. The others horses followed Skjótr, knowing the grey was wise to the ways of this realm. Exhausted, the Asgardians went to rest, believing what Balder had told them: that Thor's awakening would come with the dawn. Balder excused him, telling them he had to take council with one of the town's leaders.
Volstagg still gave him a questioning look, but he was as fatigued as the rest and so he did not press. Balder left the hut and strode right out of the village, going to the clearing where the statues were laid out. It was so far into the night that the dawn was beginning to come, and Balder's sharp eyes were able to pick up the text of the open book in his hands.
He gaze perused the unfamiliar name, printed in runes, and carefully read it aloud, thrice with gaining confidence, finishing with a ringing I summon thee.
Up from the ground reared a magnificent stone mane, luminescent golden eyes beneath, and finally the last rocky, claw-tipped paw planted on the upturned grass and the strange creature stared into Balder's eyes. It easily reached his shoulder, nothing like the pup-sized statuette he had taken from Rumplestiltskin's castle.
"What is my task, Prince of Asgard?" the stone lion rumbled, its voice frighteningly deep and ancient, and Balder knew that he was tampering with a magic he couldn't possibly hope to control, should it choose to turn against him. However, what he had to ask of it was natural to its nature, and that shouldn't bring about anything foul.
"These people here," Balder said, gesturing with his hand. "Statues now, but people once. I know it is within your power to lift the stone curse, lion, and I ask you to do so now."
The golden eyes burned into him a moment longer. "It is within my power," it replied. "This is your request, and no more?"
Balder nodded. "It is."
The lion began to pace toward the back of the clearing, to the oldest of the statues. It looked back at Balder. "You know the price you must pay?" it queried, and quoted, "to lift the moment's curse from another's soul, will forever be yours to hold."
Balder realized he was shaking and steeled himself, jerking his chin in a nod. "I know this."
The lion looked back to the statue. While Stonebreath screamed to entrap its victims, the lion inhaled, breathing in deeper and deeper as the grey stone turned to grey mist and was pulled into the lion's maw. A child, now fully flesh and bone once more, fell to the grass in deep slumber. The lion moved on. Balder winced at the pinprick in his chest, a needle stabbing from within.
He checked each person the lion freed, neither he nor the magical creature saying a word. But the lion stopped when there were two left: Bagheera and Thor.
"I can only take one more," the lion said. "Thirty-one is all I can save for your price. You must choose."
Balder stared at it, aghast.
Lillian was changing out light bulbs in the library. While they didn't have very many (in fact, hardly at all), Lillian wasn't going to have a poorly lit library for any reason. Tom returned from breakfast and walked over to Lillian. He seemed concerned about her being at the top of the ladder, as he always did whenever he saw Lillian up there, but Lillian had come to learn that he wouldn't ever say anything.
"Shouldn't I do that?" Tom asked, a worried frown creasing his features. "You might fall, and you're not the most limber of women anymore, Lillian."
Well. That was different. Lillian looked down at Tom in surprise and said, "Well, do you want to do it?"
For answer Tom held the ladder firmly in place and waited for her to come down. Lillian obliged and Tom scaled quickly up, swiftly exchanging light bulbs and moving the ladder to the next lamp. Lillian watched him, wondering what on earth had sparked this change. Tom paused at one of the lamps, looking thoughtfully at the bulb in his hand.
"Lillian," he said. "Do you…" He hesitated, then struggled on. "Do you consider me to be a… a friend?"
Lillian was speechless. Had Tom really, really just asked that question? Tom shrank a little, perhaps murmuring never mind, and Lillian shook herself out of her surprise. "Of course I consider you my friend," she said, and Tom glanced down at her, astonishment in his eyes. "We've known each other for thirteen years, Tom. I let you live in my house for eight months. Those are the sort of things friends do for each other, don't you know that?"
"I must confess that I hadn't," Tom said, honestly. Befuddled and all the more contemplative, he returned to his task.
Lillian wondered who it was that had planted this thought in Tom's head. She wanted to know, because she would find that person and wrap them up in the biggest hug she had ever given. Tom was setting the ladder below the last lamp when young Matthew came to join them.
"Hey, Mr. Hemming," he called as Tom started up the ladder.
"Good morning, Matthew," Tom replied, sparing the lad a brief look before continuing his ascent.
"Did you hear the news?"
"Maybe."
Matthew shook his head in light exasperation. Lillian noticed Tom glance down and smile slightly, eyes holding a sparkle of mirth. That had never been there before.
"Miss Blanchard is out of jail," Matthew said. "She didn't kill Mrs. Nolan at all, Mrs. Nolan was alive the whole time. She's at the hospital right now."
"I know," Tom replied. "Ruby found her last night."
"I knew Miss Blanchard didn't do anything to Mrs. Nolan," Matthew said confidently. "She's too good to do horrible stuff like that."
Yes, but since it wasn't Blanchard who murdered anyone, and Mrs. Nolan was still alive, then who orchestrated the whole thing? Tom decided to keep that thought to himself. He replaced the last bulb and climbed back down the ladder.
"Shouldn't you be heading to school, Matthew?" he inquired, lifting an eyebrow at the boy.
Matthew shrugged. "Yeah, but I can make it. I just wanted to tell you about Miss Blanchard."
"Well, you have now, and thank you," Tom replied. "I have work to do, lad, now scoot." He ushered him along.
Matthew stopped, an embarrassed look on his face. "I can't remember where I put my backpack," he realized. "I put it down in here somewhere and now I can't remember where."
Tom blinked at him. "Really, Matthew?"
"Sorry! Please help me find it, Mr. Hemming?"
Tom released an exasperated sigh, which bore a certain amount of exaggeration, and helped Matthew search. They found the missing pack a few minutes later. "Here it is, Matthew," Tom said, lifting it up and setting it back in Matthew's hands. His eyebrows furrowed. "Why did you put it behind the checkout counter anyways?"
"Well, I didn't want anyone to take it," Matthew replied simply.
"You couldn't have just kept the backpack with you?" Tom questioned, lifting his eyebrow again.
Matthew shrugged. "I don't like carrying a lot of stuff. See ya after school, Mr. Hemming!"
Tom saw him out to the door (mostly to make certain that Matthew hadn't lost his shoes as well, or something else as vital) and before coming back in paused, sniffing the air. Spring. The final thaw was on its way.
Volstagg hadn't fallen asleep yet. In fact none of the Asgardians had. Pensively Volstagg watched the hut's door, then rose to his feet. "He's been gone too long," he stated. "Fandral, come with me."
Sif started to follow but Hogun stood in her way. "We stay here," he said firmly, and Sif backed down, her stare a mixture of anger and shame.
Volstagg and Fandral left the hut. Volstagg had a deep suspicion that Balder was going to try and bring Thor back tonight, and every moment the youngest Asgardian was gone he became all the more certain of it.
"Volstagg, his tracks lead this way," Fandral murmured, and Volstagg followed him. The sky was graying with the coming dawn. Quietly, the two Asgardians reached the field of statues. Fandral jerked to a halt, staring in silent horror, and Volstagg remembered that he hadn't seen this place before.
They dropped down to a low crouch when they realized they were not alone. Balder was speaking with a lion of stone, bearing piercing gold eyes. And Volstagg realized that now, only two statues were left. All the rest were limp on the grass, returned to their original states. Balder wasn't just bringing Thor back, he was bringing them all back!
"Should we intervene?" Fandral whispered. Volstagg shook his head, and they both stayed hidden among the trees and overgrowth.
The final two statues appeared to be Thor and a great cat. Balder had been staring at the lion for a long moment, shocked into silence. The lion repeated its words, its voice deep as a mountain. "I can only take one more," it growled. "Thirty-one is all I can save for your price."
Thor makes thirty-two, Volstagg remembered Balder's words from days before.
"You must choose."
Balder finally forced himself from his stunned muteness. "Surely you can do both!" he cried.
The lion shook its stone head, a growl rumbling within. "I cannot," it replied. "You must choose: your friend or your brother."
The cat was Balder's friend. Balder's very close friend, if the conflict on his face was anything to go by. "How can I make such a decision?" he wondered despairingly. "It's impossible!"
"Nay, only difficult," the lion answered harshly. "Choose; or I shall leave them both as they are."
Balder was weeping. Fandral started forward again but Volstagg dragged him back. He understood now, why Balder wanted no one else to be a part of this. Volstagg wasn't quite sure how he knew, but he knew that somehow, Balder had just traded his life in exchange for all the others.
"I need them both," Balder sobbed. "Bagheera saved my life so many times; it is how he became so, through my own fault. But Thor… the others will only follow me so far without him. I am a mere substitute. Asgard needs its Golden Prince." Shaking, weeping, he looked into the lion's eyes and said, "I choose Thor."
The lion turned to Thor and opened its mouth, breathing in the curse that held the Thunderer captive. Mjolnir fell from Thor's hand and Balder caught him as he collapsed, sinking to the ground with gut-wrenching sobs.
"Bagheera, forgive me," he wailed. "Forgive me, dearest of friends! I'll find another way, I swear I will!"
The stone lion faded away with a last growl. Volstagg and Fandral left their hiding place and came to Balder, who wept for his friend while his unconscious brother lay in his arms. He saw the two Asgardians and a bitter smile twisted his lips.
"I thought you would come, Volstagg," he said, voice husky.
"I'm so sorry, Balder," Volstagg said, and it was heartfelt.
"No one should have to make a decision like that," Fandral added. "If I could have helped—"
"You did," Balder replied, confirming Volstagg's suspicions. "You stayed away. If you were here, it would have been worse. No, it is best that I did it alone." He looked down at Thor. "You shall have to carry him away," he said. "I will not be here much longer."
Thor slowly came to, blinking in confusion at the bearded chin above him. His hand went up and touched it, and Balder's twin blue eyes gazed back down. "Balder?" Thor murmured, hopeful and bewildered. "Brother?"
Balder nodded. "Yes, Thor," he managed to whisper.
Thor released a joyous cry and sat up, enveloping his youngest brother in his arms and laughing. "It is so good to see you!"
Balder choked back his tears and tried to smile, and somehow that pained Volstagg more than anything. "It's good to see you too, Thor," he murmured, and gingerly returned his brother's embrace, as though he were uncertain as to how it worked.
Regina found herself entering Mr. Gold's yet again (and she would keep coming until she got a result, or Mr. Gold pleased her away), and she was determined to get what she wanted this time. Mr. Gold lifted a sardonic eyebrow at her arrival and remarked, "You certainly are obstinate, Your Majesty."
"I only want one thing, Rumplestiltskin," Regina said, smiling as she put extra emphasis into his true name. "Tom Hemming's real name and then I'm on my way."
"I've no interest in giving you Mr. Hemming's name," Mr. Gold replied.
"Then why, pray tell, have you not told me to please stop asking about him?" Regina inquired, eyes narrowing.
Mr. Gold held her gaze. "Perhaps there is… something I would consider worth selling it to you for," he admitted. Regina smirked in triumph. "Or two."
"Two?" Regina repeated indignantly. "I'm not—"
"Oh believe me, Your Majesty, Hemming is a very important person," Mr. Gold said, eyes glittering as he displayed a smirk of his own. His was much more satisfied. "He's worth two."
Regina frowned. "Alright then, name them."
"First," Mr. Gold said, "after I tell you his name, you don't hurt him. Second," His eyes hardened. "you never ask anything about Tom Hemming ever again. This is the deal, Regina. Take it or leave it."
Those conditions could only mean that Hemming was a threat to Regina and there were many more important things to know about him besides his name. But she had to start somewhere. There were plenty enough loopholes for her to take advantage of… carefully.
Regina nodded. "Deal," she said. They shook hands.
Mr. Gold smiled. "His name is Loki Laufeyson," he told her. "Or Loki Odinson. It depends on who you ask, really."
Neither of the names meant anything to Regina. And that was alarming. "What—" she began, but then Gold leveled a hard look on her and she remembered the second half of the deal. If she wanted additional information, she would have to look for it elsewhere.
Tom was just returning from the hospital. He had been bringing Madge Lykke some new books and taking her finished ones back to the library. She had been amazed that he had decided to follow through with his offer.
"Mr. Hemming!"
Tom turned around and saw a young girl standing on the sidewalk, nervously fiddling with the folds of her dress. What was her name? Alyssa, Alexia, Lizzie… Eliza, that was right.
"Yes, Eliza?" Tom asked.
"You have to be very honest," Eliza said solemnly. "How do I look?"
"Like a young lady dressing up for the occasion," Tom replied, and wondered what the occasion was.
"I'm serious!" Eliza exclaimed. "Daddy's taking me out on a date and I want to be beautiful."
"Why are you asking me?" Tom wondered.
"Because Mommy will always say I'm pretty and Daddy can't look because I have to surprise him," Eliza explained, looking distressed. "And you make all the bookcases, Mr. Hemming, so I know that you know what's beautiful." She looked up at him with wide, dark eyes. "So, am I beautiful?"
Tom examined Eliza very seriously. "You're missing one thing," he told her. "Wait here." He ran back into the library and ducked into his room, sifting through the boxes tucked into one corner of the space, until he finally found what he was looking for: a tiny box carved by Tom's own hand. Rising, Tom left his room and rejoined Eliza, who had been waiting.
Tom knelt and opened the box, carefully taking out the necklace stored inside and clasping it around Eliza's neck. "There," he said, and smiled at her. "Perfect."
Eliza smiled and gently touched the pendant hanging from the gold necklace. "It's so pretty," she murmured. "Thank you, Mr. Hemming. Is it your mommy's?"
"Sort of," Tom replied softly. He had made a good choice in picking this necklace; the gold offset Eliza's dark skin in a most lovely way. "Please don't lose it, Eliza, it's precious to me."
"I won't," Eliza promised. "Do I look pretty now, Mr. Hemming?"
"You are the most beautiful princess I have ever seen," Tom said truthfully. "There is no doubt about it. Your father will be left breathless."
Eliza giggled and flung her arms around Tom's neck, something he was learning he just ought to resign himself to. "Thank you, Mr. Hemming!" she bubbled happily, not seeming to realize she had already spoken her gratitude.
"You're welcome, lass," Tom replied. "Enjoy your date."
Eliza parted with a shining smile, calling goodbye to him as she skipped down the sidewalk. Tom rose to his feet and went inside, shaking his head in befuddlement. Lillian smiled at him as he came in, remarking on how he had once again saved the day. Tom gave a baffled shrug.
"I don't know why they keep coming to me," he said. "They never used to pay any mind to me before." No one did.
"I should think it was obvious," Lillian replied. "You care, and they can see it."
Tom really, really had the most unusual boss.
Everyone was ecstatic upon seeing Thor alive and well again, and a massive group hug ensued upon the Thunderer's booming arrival. Even Sif's position as a traitor was forgotten for the moment. Balder stood apart, smiling slightly, but his hand still went up to push away the occasional tear. He prayed that Bagheera could find a way to forgive him, faithless Asgardian that he was. Even more intensely he prayed to find a way to free Bagheera, before it was too late for him to do anything more.
He realized that Thor was looking at him, and had just finished asking him a question. "My apologies, I did not hear you the first time," he said. Pause. "Brother." How strange it was to say that word again, after so long.
"How has this come to pass?" Thor asked. "Sif tells me I was turned to stone and you were the one who saved me. How?"
"There was a book in Rumplestiltskin's castle," Balder said vaguely. "It detailed the way to bring the statue folk back to themselves. I have also been informed of Loki's…" Betrayal? Treachery? Madness? Breaking? "Fall," Balder finished hesitantly, and a mixture of rage and sorrow swept across Thor's face.
"Aye, he did fall," Thor murmured. "And now he has escaped, which is why we need your help."
"I know," Balder replied, his eyes downcast.
"He was reluctant at first," Fandral said.
"Were you?" Thor was confused. "Why?"
"There are others I search for," Balder said softly. "Others who matter more to me than Loki. But you say that wherever he may be, he must certainly be causing slaughter. So I shall help you."
Thor couldn't seem to imagine how Balder could think anyone was more important than Loki. Balder was unsurprised by his eldest brother's sentiment.
Balder realized that the Warriors Three were looking between Sif and Balder. Balder's throat seized. No. No. This was not his responsibility, these Asgardians were not his to care for! He had brought back their Mighty One, let him see it all now!
"There are things I must attend," Balder said abruptly. His mind was split in two, screaming coward! and you have no duty to them! "The Warriors Three can explain everything that's happened." He turned sharply and disappeared inside his hut. He locked the door even though he knew it was an entirely vain gesture.
Balder stood for a few moments and breathed, trying to steady himself. He grimaced as pain stabbed him from within his belly, leaning against the door. He'd have to keep an eye out for any pain-dulling plants as they travelled, so as to keep this secret for as long as possible.
But why wasn't he dead? The stone curse took effect immediately, so why…? Balder pulled off his wool tunic and tossed it down onto his cot, and his brow furrowed as he saw the hard speckles of grey across his belly and stomach. Thirty-one of them.
He would have to learn what was happening later. Balder unlocked the small chest set at the foot of his cot, raising the lid and gently withdrawing the folded stack of clothes wrapped in a dusk-blue coat. He changed out of the muddied and plain clothing he had worn for the past year and donned once again his Asgardian garb, re-belting his sword to his side. He noticed the grey expanded in the meantime. He didn't put the cloak on just yet.
Balder caught a glance of himself in the dirt-smeared mirror propped up on his table, behind the wash basin, and paused. He cleaned his face and took a razor to his beard, the first he had since time had begun to flow again. He didn't want to look too much like Thor. He carefully pulled the blade across his jaw until there was nothing left but bare skin, with only a few nicks. A pair of scissors he found as well, cutting away his lengthening hair until there was just enough to crop up between his fingers. A different man looked back at him through the mirror.
Balder's fingers trembled as he fastened his cloak, and when he looked into the mirror, Balder the Questor gazed back. His eyes were different now; old and weary, the eyes of one who had lost the thing they breathed for.
"Balder!" Thor shouted, a frantic note to his voice.
Balder picked up his satchel from the cot, with the books and maps inside (the statuette had turned to ash, as he had expected). He saw something glinting at the bottom of the chest, and he bent over and picked up a golden ring. It was his. Balder had thought he lost it. Silent, he took the ring and slid it onto his weathered and dirty finger, where it fit just as snugly as it had the day he had first put it on.
Quickly he blinked his tears away and stepped outside. Thor blinked at the transformation that had taken place in the last few minutes, and then the partly panicked, partly angry look returned to his face.
"I would know the meaning behind all this, brother," he said strongly. "My friends here say that you rode out to the castle of Rumplestiltskin—The Dark One, even I have known better than that!—and that Sif, my friend, is a traitor?! What is this madness, Balder? Every one of these people are my closest of friends, fiercely loyal to me. "
"To you, yes, but to Loki?" Balder gave Thor a hard look. "Think of that, brother. It is true what Sif has done. She made a deal with Rumplestiltskin to have Loki done away with—"
"That is not—" Sif began to protest angrily. She composed herself. "That is not what the deal was about. That is not what I went to the imp for."
"Then what?" Balder demanded furiously, grabbing the satchel at his side. "This book is Rumplestiltskin's. In it is a list of every deal Rumplestiltskin has ever made, and how convenient, some of them are written in runes. One of them has Loki's name in it. Specifically: Tresses for Loki's powerlessness. And look whose tresses are missing."
Thor turned to Sif, his expression both wounded and stunned. "Sif," he said. "Is this true?"
Sif faced him. She nodded. "It is," she said softly. "I am sorry, Thor. I never would betray you—"
"You have," Balder said flatly. "You betrayed Loki, our brother, and by doing so you have betrayed Thor and I as well."
Thor's look was deeply grieved. "Sif. How could you do this?"
"Thor, I…" Sif's eyes were wide, panicked. Then she turned her gaze to her boots and shook her head. "There is nothing I can say. What I have done is indefensible. If you wish me to leave…"
"No," Thor said, and Sif looked up in surprise. "No, Sif. You have made a horrible mistake, and broken my trust. But I cannot cast you away. I did that to Loki, and we have all seen how that went. You will not leave this company, Sif."
Balder shook his head in disgust. "I would not keep a snake to my chest if it wept tears of remorse!" he hissed under his breath, but no one heard him. Louder, he said, "You five must prepare the horses for travel, we leave now." His eyes met Lancelot's across the square and he added, "I have something to do."
Thor nodded and allowed the others to lead him in the right direction. A cry began to echo through the camp, a joyous cry, as the once-statues returned well and whole again. Balder and Lancelot met, though it took some time for them to navigate around running friends and family members.
"I believe this is your handiwork, Dusk," Lancelot said, smiling warmly at the scene unfolding throughout the camp.
"I had a part," Balder replied. He quickly turned his wince into a smile.
"Where do your friends go?" Lancelot inquired. "Surely you are not leaving again so soon."
"Before he succumbed to Stonebreath, it seems they were seeking out my assistance," Balder said. He shrugged. "Apparently word spreads. You wished to speak with me, Lancelot?" Thor, please hurry with those horses.
"Yes," Lancelot said. "There are matters of concern I have seen coming to light, and I believe you would be the one to—"
A horse head rammed into Balder's back. "Ehem, Dusk?" Fandral called. Thor gave him an odd look.
Balder turned and saw with relief that all the horses were saddled and ready. "Gentlemen!" he exclaimed. "You prepare quickly. But then, this is urgent, so I understand your need for haste."
"Urgent? What is urgent?"
"Goodbye, Lancelot! You shall have to tell me some other time!" Balder leaped atop Skjótr's back and with a sharp whistle called the Asgardians after him. Skjótr champed eagerly at his bit and together they galloped away.
Balder drew his sword and the others didn't fail to notice. "I don't know how well our departure is going to be taken!" he shouted in explanation. They passed the camp's boundary and once out of sight, vines exploded from the earth. A blow from Hogun's mace sent it recoiling.
"Quick! Before it entangles around the horses!" Fandral cried. They pushed their steeds faster than they had gone yet. After a point the vines could follow them no more, and the Asgardians sighed with relief. They slowed their horses to a walk.
"What was that?" Fandral wondered.
"It looked like Cora's magic," Balder replied. "Apparently she is not so powerless as we believed. No matter, we are out of her reach." Skjótr felt dominant and trotted a little further ahead of the other horses.
Thor guided his horse up beside Volstagg's. "Balder is different," he said, and he sounded unhappy about it. "You have been with him longer of late, Volstagg, do you know what has sparked his change?"
Volstagg shook his head. "He has hinted, but your brother refuses to say what plagues his mind." He hesitated. "He is very wounded, Thor."
Thor winced. Balder continued to ride ahead, unaware of the words spoken behind him.
