Edited: 24/06/13
Chapter 35 - The Turning Point
Loki forced himself to go to his bedchambers and lock himself inside before he succumbed to the temptations of trying to delve into that black thread he had found between his father and his son. It was old, had clearly been there for centuries, it could wait a few more days until he was more familiar with his new body. He could feel that his seiðr was stronger, grander, and altogether harder to restrain and control. Considering what he had done last time meddling with primal, deep seiðr, even inadvertently, it seemed prudent for him to hold back until he could be sure he would not harm either Odin or his son. Especially his son.
Stripping off his clothing, Loki stood in front of his mirror. As soon as he saw his eyes he understood why Sverrir had been gaping at him so openly when he had emerged from his chrysalis. His eyes were sharp and bright like emeralds reflecting light, his skin was whiter than ever and his hair was thicker and softer under his fingertips. On a careful inspection, he found the magical runes were all over his body now, just like his arm.
Rubbing his fingertips with his thumb, Loki growled as he realised his callouses were completely gone. He would have to wear them into his skin all over again if he wanted to hold daggers, Bo staffs or any other weapons without blistering. A thought leapt to his mind and he grabbed at his stomach, looking down.
"No!"
His scar from Fenrir's birth was gone, all his scars were gone but that one was the one he actually cared about. It was his mark, it was the only remnant he had of his youngest that reminded him that his boy had emerged from his body perfect and beautiful.
"No, no, no!" he snarled scratching at his skin, "You can't that away from me!"
Of course there was no answer from anything, and his anger faded away like water slipping over his body, replaced with a bitter resignation. He could do nothing to regain it, he had been essentially reborn and he supposed the scar was another sacrifice to his metamorphosis.
He would much rather have lost an arm again.
Loki spent the next few hours in a daze, his hands running over his skin, pulling at the runes to try and interpret them, while his mind drifted in a haze of quiet musing. The sun had tipped over its peak by the time he shook himself and decided to deal with the lendmenn before they worked themselves into a panic.
To say his advisors were obviously nervous was an understatement. Every single one of them was visibly wary of Loki as he walked into the State Chambers with his mother and sat down on his raised chair.
"Please, everyone sit." He extended a hand to the table and watched as everyone took their places. Some, like Tyr were open in their staring, while others like Sverrir, were more subdued, eyes flicking up to his face every few seconds. Frigga was composed and calm next to him, but Loki could sense her concern radiating like heat.
Resting the base of Gungnir on the floor, Loki lifted his chin a little,
"Now, shall we start by dealing with the recent events?"
Everyone nodded, all eyes, even sightless Hoder's, turning to him fully.
"As you know I went to visit Fenrir the wolf, for reasons I will not divulge just yet. Let's just say it was on a suspicion. And as you know, Fenrir bit my arm off when I got too close. I was then sucked into magical subspace..."
Loki kept his description of being lost in subspace brief and clinical. He did not want to convey the terror of the experience, nor the panic in forging the casket.
"Majesty, might I ask a question." Bragi asked quietly.
Loki nodded.
"How did you know how to make a Casket? As far as I was aware, no one knew where the Casket of Ancient Winters came from, or who forged it. It was always assumed that Laufey came upon it in some dark part of the Nine Realms."
Loki sighed, up until now he had avoided thinking too hard about this, "It was revealed to me by a… I suppose you could call it a shadow, left behind by the one who made the first one. I don't know how she knew what to do when she did it, but the shadow she left behind was enough to guide me in forming my Casket of Primal Fires."
"Nice name your majesty." Sverrir said with a faint smile.
Loki smirked, "I thought so. In any case, I forged the casket because I was converted into pure magical energy, and when I was able to reconnect with my flesh, I reformed. However, I had lost the connection to my arm and was forced to make it out of seiðr."
Loki held up his right hand, allowing the fading sunlight to catch off the polished marble effect it now had. "This began a process I did not anticipate. By chance I had made a perfect fusion of flesh and seiðr in this arm, but it could not survive attached to the rest of me as my body was. I may have been infused with seiðr, but it was in layers. It's rather like how a pie has crust, then filling, then crust. All the ingredients together make the pie what it is, but they are distinct from each other. My new arm was more like a cake, with all the ingredients mixed together to make the finished product."
Loki glanced up from his own hand and cocked his head to the side at the looks on some of the men's faces, "It may sound odd, but it's an accurate metaphor. Also, I'm starving."
Sverrir opened his mouth and Loki cut across him, "I'll eat after this meeting. In any case, my new arm was a much stronger fusion of seiðr and flesh because they were mixed together to form the limb, but it did not mix well with the rest of me. And since seiðr has its own mind of a sort, it decided that rather than fall off me due to incompatibility, it would simply make the rest of me match."
"So the chrysalis was to contain the seiðr as it transformed you into a being of seiðr and flesh, rather than a natural carrier of seiðr," said Kvasir sagely.
"What's the difference?" asked Forseti, eyes narrowed.
"The sheer power in a magical gesture," was the curt reply. Loki smirked at his old teacher, but was surprised at the dark look in his eyes as he looked at Loki. "Majesty, I would like to investigate this transformation. I'm certain I have read something of it happening before and I would like to gather what I can."
Loki nodded, "Of course. Now, unless there are any other questions, shall we deal with other matters?"
"Yes your majesty." Sverrir pulled out a document, "I spoke with Mýrkjartan and we have compiled the information regarding outlaws in Asgard."
Loki held out his hand and Sverrir gave him the document. Loki examined it, eyebrow rising as he read.
"Is Mýrkjartan sure about this?"
Sverrir nodded, "He is."
"But that would mean there's one outlaw for every hundred members of society. That's 40,000 people living outside the law!"
Frigga's eyes widened, "That cannot be correct, there cannot be that many Aesir who are so depraved that outlawing them is the only answer."
"Agreed," said Tyr, "There must be something wrong with those numbers."
"Or something wrong with the system," said Loki.
"The laws are clear!" Forseti said.
"They have been unchanged for millennia. They were written long before we had our Golden Apples, before we became immortals. How can we know they still work? How can we even be sure they are still remembered right?" Loki asked, keeping his calm. That clarity of mind was doing wonders for his temper.
"Wasn't the point of outlawing that eventually the outlaw would die, by starvation, injury or other means?" Sverrir asked Forseti, "How can that work when we are all now so mighty and healthy and fed with the apples that no one dies outside of battle?"
"The outlaws do not have the privilege of receiving Idunn's Apples. They will all die eventually." said Bragi, "My wife receives letters from every village in the realm with the names of each person to receive an apple."
"So, essentially, as was always intended, outlawing is a slow death sentence, made longer by the lasting effects of the apples," Sverrir scowled.
"You disapprove of this Sverrir?" asked Loki arching an eyebrow.
"I am not inclined towards torture," Sverrir's tone was blunt, "I detest the idea of causing anyone suffering beyond reason."
"Not beyond, they are criminals, they must be punished," said Loki.
Sverrir frowned at him, "But your majesty, you said to me only yesterday you intended to rehabilitate them."
Loki inclined his head. "I did. And I meant it. But not for every outlaw."
Tyr leaned forward, "Majesty, criminals are criminals. To rehabilitate them is only to invite the likelihood of them committing a crime again."
"Tyr, do you really think outlawing every person for every crime is sensible? You know the laws better than I, is that what our laws demand? That a petty theft is answered with a death sentence in this age when we are short of nothing, even if in some parts of the realm things are not as abundant as we have here?"
"Excuse me majesty," Freyr interceded before Tyr could reply, "But are we here to discuss a reform of the law, or are we here to discuss what to do about the current overabundance of outlaws? Both are large issues and it would be helpful if we had a clear focus."
Loki thought carefully for a moment, during which Sverrir said,
"Is the outlawing not a symptom of the issues with the law? If we combat the law, then wouldn't we deal with the outlaws in the same stroke?"
Delling shook his head. "We might reform the laws to prevent so many outlawings but that would not deal with the outlaws the land already has roaming around."
Loki tapped his fingers against Gungnir, thinking.
"My king," Frigga said gently, "What has motivated you to ask about these issues?"
In that moment, Loki was grateful to have his mother with him. "The death of Fasta Gudsteinsdóttir has troubled me greatly, both in her outlawing itself, and in the manner of her death. Both of these things I want to address, but the more immediate interest I have is in dealing with the gangs of outlaws that now plague the land. If Mýrkjartan is right, if there really are that many, I am afraid that it will result in raiding and murder now that Odin is no longer on the throne. It's amazing they have not caused more trouble."
"You fear they are too great a number," stated Frigga.
"Exactly. Although they are not inclined towards working together, what would stop them if they realised just how many there are? Asgard's standing army is dispersed in these times of peace, men and boys play at battle for sport, but they are not trained to fight a raid as they were during the wars. The outlaws are without codes of honour and without them, they have no reason not to cause harm."
Tyr raised an eyebrow at Loki who clenched his hand around Gungnir and silently dared him to say something cutting. Tyr wisely remained silent.
"So… what do you intend to do with them if they are rounded up?" asked Frigga.
"Once we have them, we will discover why they were outlawed via the records from their home village. If the crime was minor, then I will offer them a chance to regain their honour. Should they accept they will pledge their loyalty to me and begin a process of redemption."
"And what of those who refuse or who have committed crimes too grave?" asked Delling.
"Well what would you suggest?" asked Loki. He had been pondering this issue for some time, and while he was not against a real punishment, he was unsure what would be appropriate.
"Well, you seem set on removing them from the land, so perhaps it is a case of pledge to you or die." Tyr suggested, "It has been found that those who are threatened with death and then spared by the same man often cleave to him."
"Seems excessive and bloody," muttered Sverrir.
"Afraid of blood Kvasisson?" asked Tyr.
"No! But I don't think Loki wants to be seen as a tyrannical brute."
"King Loki, boy! You will not be so familiar again!" Forseti snapped.
"Enough." Loki's hand cut through the air. "Sverrir is right, I have no wish to be seen as a blood-bathing berserker. However, I know Asgardians want no king who is seen as weak, and I am not afraid to make my point in blood if I must, though I would prefer to be merciful to those who deserve it."
The men were quiet for a moment, thinking.
"Pledge or die does not always work," muttered Hoder, "Some would feel it is insulting to their pride. It might burn resentment in their hearts."
"Death is sometimes not good enough, it is almost a kindness to the lowest scum," said Tyr.
"And we're back to torture," said Sverrir.
"Let us establish first of all that this is a sound plan," said Freyr. "Majesty, what exactly would you do with the outlaws if they agree to your terms?"
"First of all I would have them brought to good health and given safe beds. Give them dignity, food and some consideration. I would have Tyr and his best men begin to train them –first just to make them fit, and then as warriors," said Loki.
Frigga's eyes widened, "You want to make them into an army."
"I want to make them into a loyal regiment," Loki corrected quickly. "The force of my father meant that a standing army was almost unnecessary. I cannot rely on this myself. I will need men who are totally loyal to me, and I want the outlaws handled with intelligence. So why not make these lost men loyal to me by giving them a chance of regaining their honour, being brought back into the law, having homes and families of their own?"
"What about the women?"
"What?" asked Loki.
"The women," Sverrir repeated, "At least a quarter of the outlaws are women, what are you going to do with them? If anything they will accept your offer before any man, it will give them safety from rapists, perhaps give their children homes, what will you do with them?"
Loki bit his lower lip, "Could we not apply the same process to them? They pledge loyalty to me, they are given food and shelter-"
"You can't think that you'll put them into training with the men?" said Delling.
"Why not?" asked Sverrir, "Lady Sif was one of our best warriors, and I would not be stunned if there are plenty of women just as capable in Asgard."
"Sif was indulged because she was Prince Thor's friend."
"She certainly proved herself though." said Sverrir. "And what of the Valkyrior, were they not mighty women?"
"The Valkyrior have not been seen since Odin swore an oath to the Celestials, they are nothing to do with us anymore," said Delling
Loki frowned, "What? What oath?"
Everyone looked around at him, but Sverrir was the only one who matched Loki's confusion.
"Your father swore an oath to the Celestials, which robbed the Valkyrior of their purpose. They have not been seen since, for they remain in Valhalla."
"The Celestials?" Loki wracked his brain for any knowledge of the Celestials, but he could only remember a brief memory when he was a child, of beings more powerful than the Norns or even Odin. He had dismissed it as a myth, even back then. "They are real?"
"Yes your majesty, they are very real, but like the Norns, they have long been unseen," said Kvasir.
"I've never heard of them," said Sverrir.
"There are texts, among the ones the Ljósálfar gave us which tell of them. I shall find it for you majesty," said Kvasir.
Loki frowned, tapping his fingers on Gungnir in an empty rhythm. "That is something that has been bothering me for a while now. Up until I became king, I had never been interested in certain areas of knowledge, the history before the War with Jötunheim, the way of life on other realms, and when I went looking for it there was none. Why is our library so uneven in its content? There is much on the greatness of Asgard, but what of the other realms? I shouldn't have to travel to them to gain insight into them if Asgard is meant to be the head and centre as is often claimed."
Kvasir sighed, "Majesty, the reason is simple. The Library of Asgard, as well as the Archives, were set ablaze before you were born. We were only able to save the books on Asgard because they were easiest to reach."
Both Loki and Sverrir boggled at him.
"How have we never known this?" demanded Loki.
"Because it was forgotten about when the war began. The blaze was set by a sorceress, at around the same time the Jötnar invaded Midgard."
"A sorceress?"
"A powerful, spiteful woman called Gróa Geirmundardóttir, the traitor of Vanaheim."
"I've never heard of her." Loki looked at Freyr who pursed his lips in disgust.
"We never speak of her," he said curtly.
Loki burned with curiosity, but Kvasir cut in, "That is for another time I think. Let us return to the matter at hand, the outlaws."
"I think there is merit in the idea," Tyr said carefully, "Helping men regain their honour is a worthy cause, and I support it."
"But what about the women?" demanded Sverrir.
"And where will they be put?" asked Bragi.
Loki looked at Frigga, "What do you think my lady? Do you agree with Sverrir?"
Frigga gave him a smile that appeared mild, except her eyes sparked with mischief. "I think it has been shown enough times that women are just as good at being warriors if they wish to be. Let them train with the men, but allow them to sleep somewhere where they will be safe from any ill-intentioned men."
"What if someone is not suited to fighting, man or woman?" Loki wondered, "It's all very well for me to plan an army, but not every person is a warrior. What do I do with them?"
"They could be put to some other work."
"What status would they have? Will you give them in-law status upon their swearing an oath to you?" asked Forseti.
"No, but I would bring them under my protection. A kind of temporary thraldom or bond, wherein they have to work hard and prove themselves to me to earn their in-law status once more. Once they had done so, they will earn money for their work, they can have their own house and raise a family."
Hoder shifted forward, "I have a suggestion. You intend for them to be brought here and restored to health and made fit. Would that time be enough for Tyr to determine if they are suited to fighting or not?"
Tyr nodded, "Yes, I believe so."
"Then once they have been assessed by keen eyes, a decision about their placement can be made."
"I think they should work as well," said Delling, "They should be put to tasks, menial work. Earn their keep, or else it's far too much of a favour."
"Why not give the men and women the same tasks!" Sverrir said excitedly, "Men and women could make wool, could clean and cook."
"You would have men act as women?" barked Tyr.
"You think something low about women's tasks?" asked Frigga with a faint smirk.
No one dared say yes to that to their former queen. Loki hid a grin.
"I think we've discussed enough for now," said Loki, "It is agreed? We will attempt to rehabilitate the outlaws?"
They all nodded with caution, as if unsure what to make of Loki's question.
"I want you all to work on the details. Delling, think of somewhere to put them, if you have to build a barracks, you may. Forseti, you are to write an oath for these people to swear to me. I want it precise and clear. Tyr, plan a regime for when they arrive, and work with Forseti and Hoder on what kinds of methods we could use to deal with obstinate behaviour and what to do with those who are unworthy of this chance. Freyr, I want you and Sverrir to consider possible work for them to do. Is that clear?"
"Yes your majesty," they chorused.
"Good. Let's get this started as quickly as possible if we can. Now, next item, the issue of my marriage." Loki was not blushing, he wasn't!
"Actually majesty, we were hoping you would allow us another day or two to consider it –ultimately it is your choice, but we have had no time to consider it, not with everything that has been happening," said Delling.
"And we think we need to address how to explain recent events to the people. Rumours abound, and they will only grow wilder once you're seen as… as you are now." Bragi made a vague turn in the air with his hand.
Loki hid his frustration. He was running out of time to make a formal proposition to the King and Queen of Vanaheim, but he knew he had to let the councillors do their jobs. So he waved a hand in agreement. In the end they decided that Bragi would compose an announcement that Loki would approve and it would be distributed to every village and town in the realm, explaining recent events in a simple and clear manner which put the king in the best light.
"It's a pity that we do not do as the Vanir do," said Freyr once Bragi had taken notes from Loki, who felt he was making a big concession letting Bragi do the composing for him. "We have a device which allows them to make a speech and have it be seen by everyone in the world at the same time."
"Such a thing would damage the aura of Asgard's King. He needs to be aloof. This would make him too accessible to the people," said Delling.
"Would that be so bad?" Loki asked, "Maybe if people saw me more and heard me speak to them directly, even through a machine or a spell, then they would feel that I am caring for the whole realm?"
"That may work for Vanaheim, where there's always the threat of civil war, but on Asgard, the might of the king is understood."
Loki decided that could be debated another day.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Nothing that cannot wait until you have rested," said Kvasir quickly.
"Oh there was something about the generals from the War," said Sverrir.
"Ah, yes. Thank you Sverrir. I shall do that in a few days. And one more thing comes to mind. As you all know, the Ostara festival is going to be upon us in less than two months. I've invited both Princess Sigyn and Queen Aetril and her son to our celebrations. And since I never had a coronation, I think we should do something about that, don't you?"
"You wish to combine the festival and a celebration of your accession?"
"I rather think I've earned it, don't you?" Loki raised an eyebrow and smirked faintly.
"Of course you have!" Sverrir exclaimed.
"Of course," Bragi agreed, "I shall see to it at once. If we are to celebrate your accession, maybe we ought to invite ambassadors from the other realms."
"Look into it," said Loki. "Now, if that's all, I'm going to get something to eat and then go to bed."
After eating in his chambers alone, Loki sat down and wrote a letter to Sigyn, detailing everything that had been happening in the past few days, his metamorphosis, his clarity about Odin, and his mother, Bergdís. He also asked her if she knew anything about this Gróa Geirmundardóttir who had burned down the library. He poured everything out, including his regret that he had been cruel to her, admitting she was right about his children, and the fact was that she had been the one who had actually started their relationship all those centuries ago when she had kissed him for the very first time.
As he sent the very long letter off into subspace, he sat back and remembered the day she had kissed him. There had been a fight between her and Sif, first words, and then fists. Thor and Fandral only interfered when Sif, with a quick hand and a sharp pull had managed to rip Sigyn's dress so she was naked from the waist up. Sif had been more embarrassed by her actions than Sigyn, who had been so furious she had barely noticed until Loki, hovering in the background, rushed forward and wrapped his cloak around her.
He had dragged her away from the fight and calmed her down, clumsily wiping her tears away, insulting Sif, even though he was pretty sure Sigyn had started the fight, and making terrible jokes to make her laugh, which eventually worked. That had been the moment when she had come close to him, and, oh, how mortifyingly aware he had been of her breasts as they pressed against his chest through his cloak, his mind still seeing them bared to the sunlight after Sif pulled on her dress.
"Loki, my Loki. So sweet and silly," she had murmured, his cloak slipping off her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around his back. Loki, blushing and with a short circuiting brain, had said nothing. Then she had kissed him, not lightly or carefully, but a full blown wet kiss that had set fireworks off behind his eyes as he kissed her back. Not exactly a usual first kiss, considering the girl had been half naked. And afterwards Loki had decided that Sif was entirely to blame for the fight and she needed to be punished. Now that he thought about it, maybe ruining her hair hadn't been the fairest response, but Loki had been very young and very dazed from the kiss, surely that justified it, at least now after so much time.
A faint frown crossed his face as he wondered what Sigyn would make of his new body. He had no fears of her being displeased, but she would not be happy about the loss of his scar from Fenrir anymore than he was. Idly his hand brushed over the spot and he sighed as there was no jump of nerves or any tug at his innards from where Sigyn had not quite bound everything right.
"The loss of the scar means nothing compared to the wound in your heart over his suffering."
Loki went ridged. The female voice was unfamiliar, deep and imposing, but as the lights in his room flickered and the air seemed to thicken, he knew who it was.
"It cannot be," he murmured, refusing to turn around.
"It can be," was the reply. "Turn around… father."
Loki slowly turned enough to peer over his shoulder. On the other side of the room, shrouded in shadows that had no source, stood a woman. Tall with floor length black hair, and the skin not covered by a fitted green dress could have been made of moonlight. She had her mother's strong build and her father's colouring, just the opposite of her older brother. She wore a veil that covered the left half her face, and a glove on her left hand, hiding decaying skin. And on her head she wore a crown with horns.
"Hel." Loki breathed, staring at his daughter.
Hel smirked at him, "Greetings Father-King."
I hope everyone had a good holiday. I did, but it was immediately followed by a flu, so feeling quite crappy right now –and reviews would definitely lift my spirits. Hopefully this chapter wasn't too filler-esque, since it was meant to show that Loki has started to learn how to deal with his advisors, and they in turn are figuring him out.
Night's Darkness