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Chapter 14: In Which Bad News Abounds

Bea didn't like to think of herself as a coward. But maybe she was.

Since arriving at the feast, and that had been several hours ago, she had been unable to put a single bite in her mouth. She did a lot of cutting and shuffling, moving her food in an intricate dance across her plate, and she got down a few swallows of wine, but didn't dare try anything else. If she tried to actually eat, she was pretty sure her stomach would affirm her cowardice in a very nasty and public way. If she tried to drink more, she was pretty sure she'd be dancing on the tables in short order. Not the sort of stunt she wanted to pull in a crowded room of semi-hostile demi gods.

Even if she was hungry, though, it was unlikely there was enough room for her and a sandwich in the corseted bodice she'd been forced into. It had looked lovely spread out on her bed, and she was sure it made her look better than she had ever looked in her life, but Bea was coming to understand why princess were always busy fainting and being generally useless. They didn't have the breath for anything else, and whenever they tried anything remotely undignified – like slouching – their corsets were swift to show them the error of their ways.

But she sure had to look happy, dang it, because she was seated immediately to Thor's right, just two seats removed from the Allfather himself. This was the high table, and it lived up to its name – being elevated on a low dais above all others. It was like being a shop window dummy.

On second thought, maybe it was a good thing she couldn't eat, because she had atrocious table manners.

Thor, busy eating, drinking and laughing it up, kept interrupting his merriment to shoot her concerned glances. It made Bea feel guilty for sulking, guilty enough to up her act and smile for him, but not enough to actually stop moping. Loki was too good with words and weaknesses. It would be a while before she genuinely felt up to smiling.

She missed Tony. If she was back on Earth, he'd drag her off, get her to do something stupid with him, and then leave her to explain the mess to Pepper. Instead she was stuck in the limelight, pretending to be fine for a whole bunch of aliens who didn't even like her. Plucking up her knife, Bea set to work shredding a slice of roasted meat past the point of recognition. She was interrupted by Thor's great big hand engulfing hers.

"My father wishes to have words with you after the feast," he said.

Have words? What words? Bea looked down at her plate, wondering if she'd just offended all of Asgard with her lack of appetite.

"Fear not," Thor said, "you are not in any trouble. I believe this has to do with the reason S.H.I.E.L.D. agreed to your visit."

Bea's mind flew to inter-galactic conspiracies, and she shared her suspicions with Thor through a sharp sideways glare.

"My father and Heimdall both took note of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s demand for an audience, and of their fears concerning the Chitauri."

"So, what, were they just playing hard to get?" Bea asked.

"No, they were simply demonstrating the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. does not hold sway in Asgard. Odin is king here, and he does not bow to the wishes of every mortal who knows to shout at the sky." It could have been Bea's imagination, but she was pretty sure she caught a sharp zip of sarcasm in Thor's voice, and she definitely wasn't imagining how much his grip on his goblet had tightened.

"Ah." It might be wisest to pay attention to her own plate. "Right. So… I won't have to explain it all, then."

"Indeed."

The feast proved awkward after that. Thor regained a pleasant expression after a few minutes, but Bea could practically smell the miasma of princely temper rolling off him. And she couldn't forget that Odin Allfather was sitting two places down, probably thoroughly aware of the whole pageant of awkwardness that was unfolding… and Heimdall was probably watching, too.

Bea was starting to really hate Asgard. There was no privacy; someone was always watching.

Eventually, though, end the feast did, and Bea discovered a whole new level of awkward as she tried to riddle out whether she was supposed to follow a servant to the meeting room, wait for Thor to escort her, or tag along on the Allfather's coattails.

"Bea Doedottir."

Speak of the devil…

Bea snapped around to look down the table at the Allfather. For a second she tried to rise from her chair, then realized that was probably unnecessary since they were supposed to be eating dinner together – eating… right. Conversation would be difficult if everyone Odin spoke to had to rise and bow before answering. So, instead of continuing her imitation of a drinking bird, Bea craned forward in an unladylike manner to see the Allfather's face around his son's gargantuan shoulders.

"Yes, sir? Sire? … Highness?"

Odin's eyes twinkled. A passing connection floated through Bea's mind, and she wondered whether Loki truly got all his mischievousness from his "other" parents.

"The hour grows late, and I would speak to you before the festivities end. I have words for you, and you, I understand, have a few for me, entrusted to you by the folk of Midgard."

"Of course…"

Before Bea could make herself look like anymore of an idiot, Odin raised his hand, the twinkle in his eye sparking the dimmest hint of a smirk, and said, "Allfather will do well, Doedottir."

"Of course… Allfather."

With that, Odin rose from the table, and Bea scrambled to follow suit. In her rush she smacked her knife off the table, and she darted down to pick it up – rethought the matter – and popped back up after bending halfway down. She glanced over to find Thor was grinning like an idiot. Freya, now visible from her new vantage point, was discreetly covering her mouth while the gleeful little lines around her eyes told the truth of her amusement.

Well, if her job with Stark ever fell through, she could make a killing in Asgard as the court jester.

Odin, politely ignoring the incident, had already started strolling away. Bea zipped after him. It took her a moment to realize that she was not the only one who had hurried after the Allfather. The two frowning councilors who had stood by Odin when Bea arrived were now flanking them, still dark, surly, and silent. The four of them soon reached a small chamber, still gilt and polished with enough shine to magnify a single candle's flame to the brilliance of the sun. Unlike the room where Bea had dined with Thor and his cohorts, this felt much more formal. Most likely it was a room for private official audiences. Private, but not casual.

Did these people ever just kick off their boots and dare to wear something comfortable?

They all gathered around a table, and though chairs were provided, the Allfather did not take a seat, so the rest of them remained standing as well. Because, of course, anything that might make such an awkward meeting more comfortable must be shunned.

On the bright side, if Bea felt the desperate need to run away, she wouldn't have to fool around with a chair.

"Bea Doedottir," Odin said.

The way the Allfather was using her name, it was like it was going out of style.

"I was made aware of the injustice done you by Loki upon my sons' return to Asgard." He motioned to the two grim observers. "I seek to make reparations in any way I can. These men are two of my oldest and best informed councilors. They have fought by my side in battle, and are among the few still alive to have first-hand knowledge of the Chronos. They are called Dahzbog and Aegir. I have requested that they share with you what they know of your people during your stay in Asgard. It is my hope that, though this will not undo what my son has wrought, it will strengthen your bonds of friendship and understanding with my people."

Bea's head was spinning with all the possibilities laid before her. How much did these men know? First-hand experience. Did that mean that they'd just seen Chronos in passing? That they knew they had weird hair? Did they know any Chronos personally? Did they know why Loki seemed so darn sure the rest of the Chronos were extinct? Did they know what she'd become?

Even as her head whirled with hopes and anticipation, doubt and fear grazed the inside of her stomach with razor blades. How different would she be? Was there any hope of her abnormalities fading? How accurate were Loki's claims?

Her mouth felt too stiff to move. Shakily, she licked her lips. "It is a hope that we both share, Allfather."

He nodded. "I am pleased."

After a quick look from their king, the two councilors also nodded. Bea couldn't help but feel they were less than enthused about the situation. Of course, she had yet to see them enthusiastic about anything.

Odin didn't leave her a lot of time to consider this quandary. "Now," he said, "it is time we addressed the demands of the organization you call 'shield'."

Amazing. Even at the other end of the universe, S.H.I.E.L.D. was still interrupting her life. But she'd been given a job, and she would do it, even if it was someone else's and her heart, gut and head were all set against it. "Prince Thor told me you already know of their request to send Loki to Earth?"

"I am well aware of their desires. But I am afraid it is impossible. Loki cannot leave Asgard until his sentence has been served."

In that moment, there were two Beas. One of them was jumping around, fist-pumping the air and screaming the "Hallelujah Chorus." The other was shriveling down to slug-size, wondering if it would be cowardly to just hide in Asgard while Earth was turned into fertilizer by the angry alien horde. Odin didn't want to share. That meant Bea didn't have to deal with the creep in the flesh. It also meant that she had to deal with Nick Fury while she waited to be eaten by a flying slug-whale-dinosaur from outer space. Yeah. She'd seen the footage. An army of those things? They were dead. They were all very, very dead. And Loki was Fury's last hope. It was a pretty sucky last hope, but it was better than no hope at all, which it looked like she got to carry back home with her.

Eventually, the shrinking Bea won out. "Just to clarify, Allfather," she squeaked, "I'm pretty sure Midgard is going to be pulverized. If we don't get Loki to give us some inside information… well, it's not going to be pretty."

"I understand." What sucked was that he really looked like he did. Bea wanted to accuse him of lying, but… he looked old. "However, there is nothing I can do to shorten Loki's punishment."

Having no idea what else to say – no idea how to argue with Odin freaking-Allfather – Bea clasped her hands and began a detailed study of her feet. "O-okay."

"It is possible," Odin continued, "that Loki may be able to aid you, and should his sentence end, I will gladly send him to Midgard, under Thor's governance, to aid you in the coming war. But the matter is out of my hands."

Trying to even her breathing, which had raced faster and faster as she considered the consequences of this decision, Bea smiled. "It's alright. We Midgardians are very… creative. I'm sure we'll think of something."

"I am certain you will."

A/N: This chapter wasn't as long as I'd originally planned. But the next chapter should not only be very long, but very action-packed, so you have something to look forward to. It should be posted Friday evening. If not Friday, then Sunday night.

A note about updates: I work weekends (Sat and/or Sunday), and there is no internet at my workplace, so I am cut off from you all for 12-36 hours, depending on the week. This means that updates will happen Friday night, EXTREMELY early on Saturday, Sunday evening or sometime on Monday. Just FYI, so I don't get complains about my weird schedule. Everyone clear? Ok. On with the show.

Replies to Annons:

Ana: Thank you so much! I hope that you get this far in the story, and that you're still enjoying it! Thanks again!