Author's Note:

Is this weekend yet? Friday is weekend, right? Updating now because...I'm weirdly impatient about it.

Loki is not in this chapter, but he's coming up in the next one. Yes, seriously. It's time I start closing up some of the open plot threads.

'-

To the ever-faithful reader and commenter Giada(and this small section is just my replies to you, since you have no account): Thanks so much for the reviews! It really is a significant number because I don't have that many to begin with. I don't think I still remember all your reviews, but I think I can reply to some of the highlights.

- About your Ch7 review: wow, your law classes helped you get the gist of the chapter? Which part of the conversations were that? I'm wondering if I should edit it and make it easier to read...

- About Ch8, you're right. Loki's going to be in for a surprise when he realises what she uses that statecraft for...

- In Ch11's review, you mentioned of how the cup that Loki took had a different thief that was aiming for it (the ones the Avengers were actually trying to trap). You're spot on! That detail would show its relevance sometime later.

- On Ch16: Yeah, it's a pretty heart-rending moment for most fans when they reach here. And no, Loki definitely has no idea that she'd slipped under his guard all this time without him realising it...

'-

XXXVI. Histories and Mysteries, Part 1 (At the Grand Meet)

A conversation on the land-bound. An unexpected fracas occurred. Bragi meets an old friend. Powwow. Darcy gets updated on more shit that hitteth the fan.

'-

Once she had seen the ageless majesty of Tyr, she began to notice all the other alvar, elves in the Golden Hall.

Throughout the first dinner course and the second, it felt as if a dimmer knob was gradually turned on to throw light in the room. Now, the table was being cleared once more. As Bragi guided her around the hall and introduced her to a few other people, her gaze had wandered near and far, and Darcy could see.

Where the Vanir were generally glamorous and the Asgardian mostly martial, the Alvar were subtler in their style. There was a woman with a crown of daisies on her hair that danced on the open floor once more, but unlike the daisy-chains Darcy used to make as a child, these had hearts brighter than yellow topaz, their stems and leaves were silver wires so fine one might imagine it took pixies to work them. The flowers themselves stood starker in reality than mere diamonds.

There was another who sat unassuming between two Vanir, who for some reason she couldn't recall of ever seeing before. This was made even more remarkable because he was merely two chairs down from the seat right across hers and everyone was already seated before the three high kings entered. His dark coat was as faded as his pale eyes, the circlet upon his brow glowed like the early morning light. If she wasn't looking directly at him, she could never be sure that he was there as he had always slipped from her sight. This happened even as she and Bragi walked past him.

As the music turned to more danceable tunes once more, attracting a sizeable following from the people that had left the tables (Bragi assured her that the third course would be a while). That was when Darcy started paying attention to the crowd. It was a lot larger than she remembered it being at the beginning of the feast.

They had wandered out into one of the side hallways now, but with more than one grand pair of doors to the hall open, Darcy turned back from the balcony to look into the Hall once more and people-watch. The Bard was watching Darcy's frequent head turns with a small smile.

"Was there anything of note that you've found?" He asked, leaning back against the balcony railings.

"Anything? I missed people! Suddenly there's more people in this room than I thought there were! How does that work? How does one fail to see people?" She sputtered.

"When the people prefer to stay unnoticed, of course. Or when many have forgotten that not everyone has a higher Sight and could perceive them easily when they do not firmly tread the Here." Bragi replied.

The answer was one that sounded so simple that she wondered why it hadn't crossed her mind before, and yet musing over it for a second or third time afforded glimpses of deeper mysteries under the surface. Out of all the questions bubbling in her mind, Darcy chose what she hoped had the easiest answer.

"They do not firmly tread the 'Here'?" Darcy hoped for clarification.

Bragi shrugged, mildly apologetic. "You have to understand that they do tend to be a little on the forgetful side."

"What did they forget?"

This time, the old Asgardian had a curious smile.

"How much do you know, Darcy, of the staðarandar?"

That was way out of any lingo she knew. "Eh, what?"

Bragi paused for a moment before he seemed a little sheepish. "Pardon me, I wasn't using the Allspeak there. The, hmm, genii locorum?"

"Land spirits?" Darcy checked back.

She was pretty glad that she'd chased for an explanation about it from Tony that she wasn't a complete blank about it. It certainly wasn't a topic in any of the thick files Pepper handed to her. Well, she'd scanned the titles…it wouldn't somehow get stuck inside the section on technology, right? The biggest chunk on culture and spiritual beliefs was funeral rites, and she was sure she'd heard enough from Jane about it for now. There were other things that she needed to concentrate on. Too many things to catch up with and not enough time…

She was met with an acknowledging nod. "Yes. How much do you know about them?

"Just that they're not common, pretty powerful, and generally doesn't care enough about people's daily life to interfere?"

She didn't know why they're detouring to speaking about genius loci from elves that are somehow Not Quite Here, but it wouldn't hurt to try to follow his explanation. Bragi smiled at her one sentence summary and raised his mug to show his appreciation for what she knew.

"Hmm, yes, that's quite a succinct way to put it. Now, what do you know of the land-bound?"

His words still came across clearly to her, but was it just her impression, or had he lowered his voice just now?

"I have no idea," Darcy said.

"Well, we know that the genii locorum are very powerful. Also, merely because they seldom interfere in the affairs of men does not mean that they never interfere," he said, with almost methodical slowness.

Darcy had a gut feeling that the direction he was going in was vaguely familiar. She remembered how Loki managed to slip out of the wards of Stark Tower.

"And it does not mean that we can't ask for their interference." She stated.

Bragi was delighted at her answer.

"Exactly!"

She glanced up. The glow of the lanterns above them flickered and dance, as the floating lanterns themselves bobbed up and down like shining waterlilies in invisible currents. The changeable light reminded her of the time she and her friends tried to see the Bayeux Tapestry under medieval lighting.

Bragi with his stateliness looked as if he could be one of the men in it. Or in something even older, a figure from the ancestral stories carved into the walls of a pagan temple in old Uppsala. A face grave and unconcerned by rushing time as he watched generation by generation pass.

The Bard continued with his explanation. "For any particular king, their great interest most of the time would be to ask for assistance from one genius loci again and again. This would be the spirit of their own land, the unofficial guardian of their own kingdom."

His explanation evoked in her mind the picture of a queen defending her kingdom from an invasion. If her troops are outnumbered, she wouldn't hesitate to try out other means, no matter how obscure or how impossible it seemed.

"A ruler would give a lot to be able to call for help at the most desperate times. A ruler would…wouldn't mind being bound to the land spirit?" She hesitated.

(Darcy couldn't help to also wonder, even if only for a moment, what she looks like now under the fairy lights).

"A ruler would not mind being land-bound." Bragi agreed.

"How is that even possible?"

"It's a long ritual and an even longer story, but it is not our concern for now. What is important is that most thought it to bound the land to them. Little did the realise that the bindings went both ways. As much as the land spirit is bound to you, you are also bound to them. Allow for the years and centuries to pass, and the binding becomes more permanent. The borders between the selves becomes increasingly porous; the land-bound begins to understand the genius loci better, to know its thoughts and ideas. This comes at around the same time that the ruler is able to request for help easier and even manipulate some of the genius loci's lesser powers on his own."

"A maturing land-bound ruler is a powerful king indeed among his peers."

Bragi paused to take a sip out of his mug. Never mind all the benefits that being land-bound could give, Darcy sensed a large 'but' coming.

"But…?"

Bragi quirked his lips on one corner. "Why should there be a 'but'?"

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Because, there's no such thing as free lunch in this world. If being a land-bound queen gives you awesome kickass powers, I'm pretty sure the costs would let you know about it sooner or later."

He did not immediately answer her, but her conclusion seemed to amuse him. "That is a very good attitude to take to power and favours. They are never free."

"Aaaand? What happens to the land-bound?" Darcy wheedled.

"Their tight bond pulls the land spirits closer to our physical existence, attuning each genius loci closer to the people living on its land. They grow more aware of the changing seasons and years. Usually they choose to surface more often by then and reports of their sightings increase. There are no lands in the kingdom that is barren to the extremes anymore with such attention. Perhaps there have been more changes in the way the genii locorum experience the world after that, yet it's not as if we know their immense and alien minds." Bragi said.

"As for the ruler?"

"The ruler Is now able to walk as the land spirits Walk, within the earth or in the skies. Many of them have become poets, telling tales of the wonders they'd seen with eyes that are not a mere man's. Many still turn to study the stars that they could now perceive far clearer and feel with better intimacy. Others wrote great histories of their lands as they could see the layers of its history with greater depths now. They remembered past kingdoms that had once stood on their land the way the land spirit had remembered them, and some become intent on excavating ancient cities whose precise place have long passed from history."

Truly, the Bard of Asgard spoke of great and wondrous things now afforded to the kings and queens that have bound themselves with the genii locorum. Yet if it was so great, wouldn't everyone and their grandmother try to bind themselves to land spirits great and small? Wouldn't it be so common that she'd have heard about it quickly from either Thor or Loki? And yet she barely heard much about any genius loci, much less the land-bound.

"Are there really that many people who are land-bound?" She couldn't quite hide the scepticism from her voice.

Bragi's mysterious smile was wider now.

"No, not really. Not for at least a millennium, and easily more than that."

Darcy almost jumped up. Ha! Her suspicions weren't baseless after all! But she didn't manage to utter a word in because a loud bang and crash sounded from the gardens below and several shouts. She and Bragi exchanged glances for one second before looking down from the balcony.

"What the hell…" Darcy murmured. She missed Bragi's bemused expression at hearing her words.

Luckily, there was enough lanterns spread above the garden to illuminate the scene. It wasn't a surprise that the noise came from drunk people. What she'd thought as someone falling into a pond or tripping over a garden bench, however, was someone breaking said garden bench over another guy's head and shoulders. Then, said guy's friends took offence at that and started a shouting match. Then, they tackled the bench thrower. That was as much as she could make sense of the mess, but it wasn't really surprising.

What was surprising was how more and more people kept getting pulled into it, turning it into a brawl than a scuffle. She could hear Bragi groaning beside her.

"Oh, those boys…I thought they were better than this."

"Someone has to stop them." She didn't hide her worry as she said it.

"The Einherjar are already moving."

Yes, but they were still at the edges, and the fight in the middle was getting intense. One of the drunk guys had enough coordination to climb a tree to get the drop on someone below him.

"It's not going to be fast enough."

"Yes, I believe you're right." Bragi's voice was grim. "Please, excuse me."

Darcy thought he was only trying to lean forward and gave instructions. She certainly didn't expect him to climb over the railing and jump down. She yelped. That was a one-story height, and it wasn't a short one-story either! Not to mention that like many Asgardians, he always wore some armour on him. She heard his clank on the ground too. If Bragi was human, he would have some broken bones under all that metal!

"Careful!"

He raised an arm and she took that to mean he was okay.

For an older man who was shorter than most Asgardian warriors, he actually made pretty good speed knocking some of them away and out as he forced his way into the centre. He was still only one man, though. At least that was what she thought until she saw another man flying down from the balcony on the other end of the garden, opening a path with ease from the opposite end from Bragi. With the Einherjar taking care of the edges, the two of them managed to pull apart the main knot of the fight.

The other man seemed to be in a worse mood than Bragi, if the way he tossed people out was any indication. He did not make much effort to make sure that they had a nice landing, contrary to Bragi's more measured approach.

"Look out!" Darcy yelled.

Two drunks were stupid enough to try attacking the second man's back. Unfortunately for them, he did not even need to turn before he casually picked up a fallen sign post to hit drunks number one and two over his shoulder. It was hard not to be impressed.

That was some pretty uncanny senses.

Once Bragi and the other man found each other, they acted as a team. Ah, he must be an old friend of Bragi's then. Usually, Bragi went low while the stranger went high—and when Darcy said high it wasn't just for a jab. The man was not just extremely light on his feet, he must be part cat, or something. When Bragi lent him his shoulders to step on, he jumped in an impressive arc and took down a group some twelve-feet away. He used everyone else as perching spot with less regard than he did Bragi; he easily wiped out more people by falling on them like judgment raining from the heavens. How did he not trip on his cloak, though? Darcy wondered. The Bard himself had a more solid fighting style and was also productive though at a steadier pace.

Still, it was hard to beat his style of putting down groups of people at once like he was playing ninepin bowling with drunks. They coordinated their movements so well that the remaining booze-filled guys were only standing and belligerent for less than twenty seconds.

Bragi waved at her to show that everything was fine, she waved back with a relieved grin. He conversed with his taller friend, the jumping-jack acrobat. The next thing she knew, he placed an arm behind Bragi's shoulder and leapt.

Up and up and up…

Darcy scrambled away as they landed at the balcony once more.

Yet there was something…odd about how they landed. For all his armour, Bragi barely made any sound. Neither did his companion, his long hair flew behind him for a moment before falling down as he touched the ground. They were as light as a leaf upon the surface of a pond – she was only four feet away and she couldn't feel any thud or vibrations through the floor.

(Wings folded close).

Darcy blinked and shook the flash of image away.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, my dear," Bragi said as he dusted his clothes. His friend seems less concerned with any dirt or dust; not that it was easy to tell if there was any with the grey cloak he was wearing. "But then I also have this great opportunity to introduce my friend to you. Let me introduce you to Vethrfölnir. He is not exactly bound to a land-spirit, but he is spirit-bound all the same. I thought you will be interested in his experience."

"Hawk, please," he corrected as he bowed to Darcy. The first thing that she noticed was that he did not look to be close to Bragi's age – if he was human, she would've thought he was in late thirties, or maybe someone well-preserved in his forties. Darcy curtsied hurriedly, (or the closest imitation she could manage). He was quiet and his voice was scratchy, as if he hadn't spoken much in a long time.

"Or Veth. Vethrfölnir seems…ungainly for conversations that are not formal."

The Asgardian was considering his friend with open curiosity. "Oh, so it's Hawk now? Really?"

He shrugged. "Well, I am Vethrfölnir and Hawk. What does it matter?"

"It certainly matters. You've never said that before. You were Vethrfölnir of Alfheim, Right Hand of Tyr, spirit-bound to Hawk, Watcher of All the Skies."

Hawk (Veth) turned to the Bard slowly, taking in the words. This was when she noticed that his dark hair wasn't brown – it was dark grey. Not exactly a sign of age, is it? On his head was a circlet with a crest of crystals with a pewter gleam that she could easily mistake for feathers, similar to Tyr's greater crown.

"You are right. Still, things change." Hawk said after thinking over it for a while.

Darcy was honestly feeling not a little overwhelmed.

"So…" she began. "The Hawk is a genius loci?"

It was Veth (Hawk) himself who answered. "He is a fyrstandar. The First of Spirits."

"Genius primordialis," Bragi clarified beside her.

Unfortunately for Darcy, that was the only explanation Hawk gave. He treated it as if the answer was clear enough in that sentence and turned to her next. "And you are…? A wise lady from Vanaheim that the Bard happens to know at such necessary moment?"

Darcy's eyebrows rose up a little. Huh, first time someone thought I was a Vanir here.

"But surely she looks just like any other Asgardian!" Bragi said with astonishment – that is, if you can't see the gleam in his eyes. He was pulling one over his friend and Darcy didn't mind hanging on for the ride.

Veth seems to take Bragi's exclamation as a request to explain how he did it.

"Ah, but I know your habits, Bragi. Not even a feast will make you think only of pleasures and without regards to Asgard or the Nine Realms. I take from that point, then, that you will certainly be working for peace. You are working in talks with Vanaheim, then? And yet it would invite not a small amount of risk if she were to be identifiable as a Vanir, isn't it?"

Darcy's confusion was definitely shared by Bragi. It took a few moments before something close to understanding began to grow in his eyes. The Bard looked sombre when stepped forward.

"Vethrfölnir of Alfheim, Right Hand of Tyr," he spoke with care, "the Aesir-Vanir War is over. It has been over for centuries, for more than a millennium or two."

"But I could swear…"

"You left Asgard sooner than you had planned to, tiring of all the conflict. You took off from the ashes the first Golden Hall, burned down with Gullveig inside. That place was…Pride of Asgard indeed. The act of great men with need." Bragi's tone was self-mocking. "Such base, base need."

Darcy could hear regret in his voice.

"A golden hall for a golden woman; a perfect pyre to send her off." Veth murmured as he stared into the distance, into a past long gone. Was it just her feeling, or had his eyes been that yellow before?

Bragi winced. "Yes. The next time you came, the Hall had stood once more, remember? The second Golden Hall. It was only bright at the roof then. It has yet to have its current grandeur. Time has passed; you've flown away and you've come back today," Bragi insisted.

"So, let the past sleep once more, Hawk. Let it lie and let it be. Come to the present and land. Be here and see, and you'll understand."

Veth brightened. He turned his head back to Bragi in a distinctly avian way. For a second she could see the Hawk in him, could almost see a great wingspan in the spread of his cloak. It disappeared again when he moved as the angle was lost.

"Ah, yes. It has been over for a while, hasn't it?"

"Yes, it has," Bragi said.

"I'm sorry, I do tend to forget things." He sighed. He ran a hand over his hair, shoulders tense.

"I am worse than any other elf, I gather. Worse than any other spirit-bound or land-bound. It's just that, when compared to the infinite skies, no kingdoms truly matter…"

He trailed away, lost in his own thoughts again..

"It's alright." The Bard answered with the same patience, even if there was a touch of sadness in his blue eyes too. "I understand. I'll always be here to remind you."

"Yet it is such an understandable mistake to make, isn't it?" Veth mused aloud, hand gripping the back of his head. "If we are in such a great age of peace, why are the tensions like back before?"

"I'm sorry?" Darcy asked.

She hoped that someone would start explaining things before she started firing a lot of questions. After all, she had no idea what effects it would have on Veth's apparently questionable psyche.

"There, in the garden, I thought I had to hold back the vengeful Vanir again." He explained to Darcy. "It is completely unexpected. Consider this; a large fight between the Vanir and Aesir? A large fight, where the factions are drawn according to the Realms, instead of perhaps drawn across military units or groups of sportsmen, with each faction having members from each realm? We have here a vicious brawl that is not trivial, nor is it done with goodwill about thy neighbour."

Vethrfölnir had turned to restlessly wander around them, occasionally his left hand tugged on his hair, leaving a weird spot that stood up compared to the others. Darcy had to join her hands together to stop herself from pulling his hand down. Or from holding his left hand in hers, to give him something solid to clasp. Now, he stopped in front of Bragi.

"Didn't you see that too?" The elf asked.

"I did," the regret cut deep into Bragi. It was something heavier – it was the first shade of shame.

"Can you blame me, Friend, to have seen the wrong time?" Veth asked. "Yet what is happening here, Bragi? I swear I can scent war gathering in the air too. It is no wonder that I have been restless since I've arrived, for reasons I can't put into words immediately."

"There won't be war. It's too ridiculous a reason for war." Bragi cut in.

"The young men, the children involved in the fight will certainly need to be punished to stop them from anything more idiotic. We are better than this."

He walked away from Veth only to do his own back-and-forth.

"Guys, guys! I have no idea what you're talking about. From the beginning, please." Darcy tried her best to keep her voice level. She might not have completely succeeded. The Bard of Asgard slowed down his steps.

"Do you know the reason the Allthing was called, Darcy?" Bragi asked.

"No idea."

"I don't have the faintest idea either," Veth admitted. "I only follow where my liege commands. Yet I did hear that it was not the Allfather who has used his rights to call the Allthing. It is…peculiar. I cannot imagine anything that my liege would consider so grave an issue that he will call for the Allthing himself. Yet who, then, among the other kings and queens…?"

Bragi glanced at their surroundings quickly. It was barely a flick of the eyes that Darcy almost didn't notice it.

"Not here. Let us adjourn to a smaller room first."

Bragi lead and the two of them followed with unspoken urgency.

It took some effort for Darcy to get her brain to shut up and stop coming up with worse and worse scenarios. Earth was certainly fighting the Frost Giants right now, but she had always been able to focus at her task here and not worry. It was only a matter of time before she could explain the situation and her case, and she'd be able to get help for Earth. If, for some reason, Asgard was not as peaceful or perfect as it seems…

What hope was there for Earth? What if the fight spilled over there? What if—

Shut it. Zip. Don't think about anything else, Darce. We don't know anything. Is it actually as serious as Veth put it, or is that just his flashback to an earlier time? Guy's not all…here, is he? He admits that himself. This is all just useless speculation at this point and when has that ever helped anyone?

She forced herself to look up, to not get lost in thoughts again and observe her surroundings. They were in one of the side hallways, the Hall no longer in sight now. At first, even the open doors held sound of many conversations or raucous laughter and games. The farther in they went, the less voices heard and less open doors in general. The golden lanterns still floated high above them, their constant presence somehow a friendly sight; crumbs of light cast to show the way; thread unspooled into the labyrinth – assuring her that the exit lies just over this way.

A few quick turns and Bragi found a small and empty drawing room for them.

It was a tall room that was round-ish in shape and quite small. Darcy wondered whether it meant they were in a tower-like structure. Bragi closed the door behind them and dropped the wooden bar across to lock. In the middle was a circular table with three chairs; it was not due to lack of space; judging by the size, they can easily fit two more, and maybe a third. Darcy could not stop thinking about the number of chairs—why three? Wouldn't it be natural to put four? Or six, since it's half a dozen?

Why does the room have the exact number of chairs that they need?

Take a deep breath, Darce. I think you're panicking. You're overthinking this.

They each took a seat without a word.

"Who called the Allthing into being?" Veth rasped.

"It is a long story," Bragi hedged.

"But surely, we can start there," Veth said again.

"And you can fill us on the backstory as we go. It could work," Darcy said, feeling more dread than curiosity for what she was about to hear. She was telling herself over and over that it can't be that bad. Bragi took one long indrawn breath.

"Frey called the Allthing into being," was the answer.

Veth was confused. "Why? I don't understand."

"To call Odin into account—but not many knew this. Not many would accept his reason, even if Odin himself can accept it and Tyr decides to adjudicate it. It will all be within the Council of Kings and their discussions will stay there. To the others, the timing of this Allthing may be unusual, but it is not unexpected either. It was already about time for another one to coordinate. It was perhaps time to discuss on the position of Midgard with its maturing people. That is the official reason."

"But the actual reason didn't stay there, did it? It was not known just to this Council of Kings" Darcy asked, not really looking forward to the answer. Her gut feeling was going wild. "That was why there was tension enough to break into a fight. Somehow it got out, people got wind of it. The Aesir felt the Vanir was being ridiculous and the Vanir thinks the Aesir is being arrogant if they can't take something as small as this."

The more things change, the more they stay the same, she thought. Unlike presidents of modern earth countries, she guessed that the citizens of the Nine Realms generally felt a strong attachment to their kings and queens, or High Kings and High Queens because they've been ruling for some time. The long reign instead of periodical change was also conducive for personal attachment to grow. Therefore, when a ruler is questioned, it can easily look like his or her personal integrity is the one being questioned. Somehow, the act itself cannot be a neutral governing one of mere checking and rechecking of actions and events, or perhaps to try to evaluate what has gone wrong from the last messed-up policies and what can be fixed going forward. It becomes a political act. It can be construed as an attempt to attack the said queen. Or king.

"This is the pitfalls of having a leader with a strong personality. The man and the position is so tightly intertwined, that in the end, each becomes interchangeable. No one can question the position without ending up looking as if one is questioning the man, personally." Darcy stated.

This is why presidential term limits are put in place, Darcy thought with a sigh. To stop that inexorable merge. Kingdoms certainly don't work with that, though.

"People are not unfeeling robots. When they have bad or incompetent rulers, they will despise them. Yet when they have a good or competent one, people will celebrate with their successes and grieve with their failures. Together. In those cases, it's hard to avoid the king and the throne slowly merging into one being."

Some patterns in history were still familiar even now due to people's tendency to repeat themselves.

She groaned and dropped her face into her hands. "If they're kids at my high school, the Aesir and Vanir are certainly not eating lunch at the same table and everyone has started whispering behind them. Now that I've told you about my two cents, please tell me how much I got wrong, Bragi."

Hawk had stilled in surprise in the middle of her explanation, giving her all his attention. Darcy, being too occupied in not thinking about the pissy world for as long as she could, did not see the impressed look given by the elf next to her.

"Perhaps you would like to guess of Frey's actual reason?" Bragi calmly asked.

"Ha, no way. There are more things in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in your philosophy," she quoted, right before she looked up again. "How the heck would I know what Nine Realm political issue turned into a landmine between Odin and Frey? There's more things that have happened between them than there are years in my life. Times ten."

"Oh, it is not something you are completely unfamiliar with. In fact, considering that you are a Midgardian, I am sure you are very familiar with several of the issues." Bragi answered.

All the big Problems with a capital P that she'd experienced with the Asgardians was usually related to Loki's shenanigans. People usually also mention Loki like he's such a problem too, and maybe that was the answer. Yet before Thor stopped being a royal pain, wasn't he a jerk too? He's just a different, more jock-like jerk than Loki. Who might Frey have an issue with? Wait, why should she choose? She could just make a safe guess by saying it's one of them.

"Let me guess, the Allfather has kids that are…problematic?" Darcy asked.

"Close enough, even if not quite there yet. There have been more large inter-realm conflicts in this last century than there had been in the half a millennium that came before that. Frey finds this to be a worrying pattern for the stability of Nine Realms. He wishes to make sure that Odin is indeed still capable at being the Allfather. Especially after the unexpected loss of Friga." Bragi answered.

Darcy and Veth winced at that.

"Oh, that's a pretty low blow, isn't it?" Darcy couldn't help asking. The Bard raised his hands in a 'what can one do' gesture.

"Well, no one has mentioned it, but it is clearly on everyone's mind."

"Things must have changed drastically since I last came," Hawk mused. "Unlike all my previous journeys."

"Really?" She asked, curious about what he meant.

"I am sure that even if Frey is High King of Vanaheim, he will not have dared to question Odin in the Allthing if Tyr had not given weight to his concern beforehand. Yet for Tyr to agree that Frey has a point and provide his support…what has happened in the Nine Realms?" Veth asked, glancing between Bragi and Darcy.

Bragi took a deep breath. "You know of the old war against the Frost Giants already, thus we can leave that story for now. Recently, there was a failed attack in Asgard. An Asgardian unit lead by its prince trespassed on Jötunheim's grounds, infringing its sovereignty in anger at the attack. A battle was clearly fought on the main planet of the Frost Giants. This precipitates in a declaration of war from Jötunheim. Jötunheim invades Asgard soon afterwards."

"The winner of this series of conflict is not a mystery." Bragi finishes.

"Asgard," Hawk said.

"Yes. But there has been more. Not too long after that, an Asgardian prince lead an attempted invasion against earth." Bragi began again. Darcy cringed, knowing how bad it was going to look like.

Oh boy. Darcy noticed that Bragi had not used names at all, only titles. But even as she thought of bringing the issue up to him, she thought it over. After a while, she had to marvel on the ingenuity of it. For people from other realms, how many of them actually noticed whether it was Thor or Loki involved? How many of them just saw it as "oh, it's one of the princes of Asgard"? This is especially true when one considers that the two of them had been up to many adventures (and mess) together for centuries, going by Thor's stories.

They'd been inseparable.

"Yet the princes of Asgard have saved Midgard once from this ancient dark elf King," Veth tried to comprehend the last news that Bragi had just told him. "But they've tried to invade it…how many times now?"

"It was never both princes at once doing any invading. Most of the time, it was only one of them that was experiencing a terrible lapse of judgment." Bragi replied.

Darcy guessed that he was a terrifying opponent at poker, because one really couldn't guess what the event looked like to people who knew said princes from the way Bragi told it. He truly provided the distant, bird's eye view, and he somehow managed to remove his emotional reaction from the telling as well. One might guess that he had known about all this from the news on television than from knowing the people involved.

"But doesn't that make it worse?" the elf asked, "if you mean to imply that they don't experience a lapse of judgment at the same time, then one would always try to hold back or to oppose his sibling."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Darcy asked. "At least they counter each other that way."

"Yes. If it was only Jötunheim, they are being careless, but it does not matter as Jötunheim can easily meet force with force and give them their due for their insolence. Yet when Midgard is the centre of their conflict, it means that a whole Realm that has not matured far enough has become yet another counter in their sibling rivalry!" Vethrfölnir couldn't raise his voice – it was thin enough as it is, but the intensity was there.

"I can certainly understand why Lord Tyr's accepted Frey's concern as reasonable."

"Well, neither I nor my liege minded the Allthing overly much. Things are as it should be." Bragi said, unconcerned by the Hawk's disbelief of what the scions of Asgard were up to.

"Oh no, it's not." Veth replied, shaking his head with certainty. "This is just the surface."

The Bard frowned. "What surface?"

"There is a larger problem in Midgard that no one yet sees. There, the heavens are unravelling. The signal is faint, but I can sense it better than almost any instrument as I've flown directly above the system…and then above the planet itself." He said, softly. It only made the news he bore seem that much more dangerous.

"What do you mean by 'the heavens are unravelling'?" Darcy asked. She was sitting straight up and tense in her seat.

"Perhaps it's just a weather issue…a space weather. Their sun has been more active than usual, perhaps? Intense solar storms on its surface?" Bragi's questions followed Darcy's, egged on by the same unease.

The Hawk stared them down with tired eyes as bright as citrine, unmoved by their worry or doubt. The weight of knowing gaze did not look remotely human at all.

"Do you think I would not recognise a sunstorm when I see it? No, I am quite sure it is an Unravelling. It has to be mended soon and quickly. This is my main reason of being here. It is unpleasant to be the bearer of bad news, but such is far better for any unfortunate people affected than if there were none."

Darcy couldn't help it. "What is the Unravelling? What's wrong with Earth?"

"Yet for it to start at earth is…impossible. It would have been Asgard if it was anywhere, isn't it?" Bragi asked back with insistence. Hawk's answer to those questions was just a light raising of his shoulders.

"Does any prophecy or sayings ever say that, Bragi? I am not aware of much lore, but the Hawk knows what it sees with the Hawk's eyes, and that is all my explanation. If you doubt me, well, imagine what the consequences will be if I'm actually right and was ignored." The elf stated, as inscrutable as many of his race.

"What. Is. the Unravelling?" Darcy added a snap to her voice, using that thin line between a question and an order that mothers are good at. Her mother was certainly good at that, and she freely borrowed that style.

Vethrfölnir finally turned his gaze to her, so did Bragi. The Bard started after prefacing it with a heavy sigh.

"As far as we know…"

"…it is one of the earliest signs of the Fimbulwinter," the Hawk finished, his expression grave.

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Author's Note:

So! We finally get an idea of what it was that was worrying Vethrfölnir when he was still flying high up in space.

On mythology: there are definitely mythological allusions everywhere in this chapter and others that will come after this. Considering we've gone full Nine Realms in scope, it's inevitable. I've been reading at least two-thirds of Edward Turville-Petre's Myth and Religion of the North: The Religion of Ancient Scandinavia repeatedly and I ended up seeing connections and potential all over the place. Read on to the glossary if you want to know for sure.

Gullveig dies after being stabbed with several spears at once and then burned in a pyre, and I don't think she's dead when she was being burned, as she was still spitting curses at the Asgardians as her last words. As this is one of the triggers of the Aesir-Vanir war, it's certainly from the time of the Bad Old Days.

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Random Norse-ish Glossary:

Fimbulwinter: (Norse Mythology) Great Winter (of Ragnarok). Oddly enough, I first encountered the term from Charles Stross' Laundry Files series. As for now, let me just quote the Younger Eddas/Prose Edda of Snorri Sturleson for this (Benjamin Thorpe's translation from Old Norse into English, 1906—for anyone interested, you can easily download it from Project Gutenberg):

{[63."I have not heard before of Ragnarok," said Gangler; "what hast thou to tell me about it?"

"There are many very notable circumstances concerning it," replied Har, "which I can inform thee of. In the first place will come the winter, called Fimbulwinter, during which snow will fall from the four corners of the world; the frosts will be very severe, the wind piercing, the weather tempestuous, and the sun impart no gladness. Three such winters shall pass away without being tempered by a single summer. Three other similar winters follow, during which war and discord will spread over the whole globe…"]}

Fyrstandar: This is a word I cobbled up from the Old Norse fyrst (first, earlier, primordial) and andi (spirit). I hope I get the plural form of fyrst correct, while andar (spirits) is certainly the plural of andi (spirit). My literal translation of the genii primordialium.

Staðarandar: I cobbled up this word from the Old Norse staðr (location, site or place) and andi (spirit). I just need to find the plural forms for both, with staðr in genitive instead of the vanilla/standard nominative because it's describing the andar. Yes, it's a translation of the genii locorum, and yes, I can get obsessed with details sometimes.

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More detailed notes on mythology:
(seriously, skip this unless you're a huge nerd like me, not really related to the story. I'm just OCD when it comes to references.)

There's all sorts of other books on Norse mythology too that I just read a page or several (or a chapter or two). The ones I read in the largest parts are Turville-Petre's, as I've mentioned before, then Hilda Davidson's Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. Davidson's work takes a more anthropological point of view compared to Turvile-Petre's more philological angle. Also, we can't speak of Indo-European mythology without hitting Dumézil's body of work, so there's that too (I failed to get my hands on Dumézil's Loki, though*). I hope I managed to enrich my fic from all those readings.

To anyone interested in deepening their knowledge of Norse mythology and is ready for the more serious stuff beyond basic introduction, I recommend picking up either Turville-Petre's or Davidson's aforementioned work. Both are classics in the field. John Lindow's Norse Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals and Beliefs is also useful index of characters and events, along with providing some basic grounding in the worldview the myths are embedded in. His chapter on Time (especially Mythic and Cyclical time is useful).

*I am more useless than I thought I'd be on this front. I managed to pick up a version of Dumézil's Loki that's printed in Blackletter. I mean, my German is crappy/nonexistent enough as it is, any illusion of ability that I have just dies when I have to slog through an arcane font as well.

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