Another week, another chapter. And more art at the end of it!
Enjoy.
"Ah, Loki, here, I have been guarding this for you," Uncle Freyr said as Loki reached the refreshment table.
"Only as you have consumed all of the others," High Priestess Járnsaxa replied, good naturedly.
"I am a man who knows what he wants," Uncle Freyr replied.
"Thank you, Uncle," Loki said, banishing Gungnir to his pocket dimension and temporarily putting down his goblet so he could take the plate a servant handed him with the slavatka. He then glanced around. "Are you finding new items you like, Helblindi-Princex?" he asked as he found his sibling nearby where the floor dropped.
"Some of them," Helblindi replied. "Others have been rather more... ah..."
"Overpowering?" Queen Sága offered.
"Hmm," Helblindi confirmed, pulling a face.
"Not because they were too hot, I hope?" Loki checked.
He had been very specific in his instructions regarding the food and drink. They did not need any of the jötnar badly burned due to an error by one of the servants.
"Nay," Helblindi rushed to deny. "More in the flavors."
"Jötnar food has been blander since trade with the rest of the Nine was blocked," Laufey stated bluntly from where they stood with a goblet of what Loki had no doubt was the dökkálfarian beer Lord Aðalgrímr had ensured they had to hand for the ceremony.
"What do you recommend from the jötnar delicacies?" Loki asked his sibling. "I am quite fond of the Hár fish stew, so I am curious as to what you have brought."
Although Ásgarðr had brought the majority of the food and drink, for obvious reasons, Jötunheimr had insisted on providing some of it. No doubt, out of pride.
"The hrognal is my favorite," Helblindi replied. "'Tis a type of fish egg paste, not too dissimilar in taste to some of the components of the Hár fish stew."
"Which one is it?"
The dish his sibling indicated did not look displeasing, so Loki nodded to one of the servants who put some on a second plate along with some slices of a bread-like food. He finished the slavatka which he had already started, before exchanging the now empty plate for the new one.
"Is there a non-alcoholic drink you would recommend?" Helblindi asked, looking over the array of pitchers.
Normally, Loki would have questioned what drinks his sibling liked, but he doubted he would know any of them. Instead, he tried to recall what they had decided to serve of the cold drinks.
"Maybe the rowan berry juice," Loki recommended, and laughed at the face his uncle pulled.
"Are you certain?" Uncle Freyr asked. "'Tis a very divisive drink."
"Hmm, but Father, Thor and I all like it, while none without jötnar heritage do."
'Twas a pattern he had only recently realized, as both Uncles Vili and Vé were quite fond of it as well as both of his cousins.
"It has proved popular with the jötnar delegations in the past," Queen Sága agreed. "But not generally with either vanir or æsir ones."
Tentatively, Loki tried his hrognal and he was happy to discover he did, indeed, enjoy the taste, sharp as 'twas. It made him decide to try several of the other dishes Laufey had brought as it would serve the dual purpose of being diplomatic and discovering if he was far less picky with dishes from his birth Realm than those on Ásgarðr, where he oft disliked a particular spice or combination of flavors.
"When you have had some more food, you should be able to try one of the alcoholic beverages," Queen Hreiðmarr said, stepping forward. "I would recommend the winter mead or chilled vanir wine, if you wish to do so."
"I shall see," Helblindi replied, carefully.
It made Loki wish to smile. Clearly, his sibling was wary of attempting anything alcoholic again after their first experience thereof.
Conversation, and the group, drifted slightly to allow those who had not yet selected their food and beverages to reach the banquet table. During the time, Loki paid special attention to both Hreiðmarr and his newly discovered sibling. The former to attempt to prove he had meant her and her people no slight, and the latter simply as he wished to know more of Helblindi. As the conversation drifted to other topics, though, he found himself conversing with everyone present at one point or another, even Laufey. The latter conversation was brief and carefully worded, but still took place.
Eventually, Loki glanced around and spotted his uncle at the banquet table once more, debating his options. Using the convenient excuse of his empty plate, he stepped away from the others.
"Having trouble deciding what you wish to have next?" he inquired.
"I am thinking 'tis time for something sweet next," Uncle Freyr said. "The sweetbreads you brought, mayhap, or the honey cakes."
Both had always proved popular with his uncle.
"May I ask you a question, Uncle?" Loki inquired, selecting some of the jötnar desserts.
He could not immediately tell what any of them were, and he had a strong suspicion more than one actually consisted of either meat or fish, which was intriguing.
"Should I be afraid, Loki?"
"I am uncertain, but I could not help but notice how abruptly you ceased laughing at Queen Sága's comment, earlier."
"Ah," Uncle Freyr said, his face closing off. "How much do you know of the íviðjur?"
"Only the basics," Loki replied carefully, not wanting his uncle to skip something, assuming he was aware of it.
Loki could already tell this was not something the man would speak of twice.
"Well, they are rare and quite valuable to Jötunheimr," Uncle Freyr explained, face darkening. "Or, at least, to most. Laufey always seemed less enamored with the attention they received."
A wave of coldness and foreboding washed over Loki. Had he not been the only íviðja to suffer at his birth mother's hands? Helblindi had said it had been quite a while since they had been blessed with one. Given what Bestla had said, and his own age, that should not be the case unless Jötunheimr had been unlucky with the birthing of their sorely needed seiðberandi.
"Laufey was quite insistent during the negotiations that the Casket of Ancient Winters was theirs and not the íviðjur's," Loki replied, voice low and keeping a careful eye on the others, lest anyone sneak up on them.
Uncle Freyr scowled. "It does not surprise me after what I was told."
"Oh?"
"I have only known one íviðja, mind, but she was quite clear on the matter of how Laufey treated her.
"She?" Loki questioned, a broad smile crossing his face as several puzzle pieces finally slotted into place. "Why, Uncle."
"'Tis not what you think!" Uncle Freyr protested.
"Is it not?" Loki asked, glancing over at the jötnar delegation.
He still could not imagine being attracted to one.
"Nay, you cannot look at them," Uncle Freyr said. "The íviðjur are quite different and not only in height. Do you know what name they were given by many in the Nine?"
"Nay."
"Ice maidens, for their fair and comely appearance."
Loki had to fight not to crinkle his nose in disgust. Fair and comely? Not only did it clash with all he thought of the jötnar, but also most of what he had ever heard of his own appearance, definitely all of what was said on Ásgarðr. Though, his adoptive Realm was the least likely to think well of the jötnar, even before the last war.
Still.
"Maidens?" Loki protested.
"Not entirely true, aye, but I doubt I need to explain to you how it came about."
Nay, he did not.
"As for Gerðr, she did prefer to be referred to as female," Uncle Freyr continued, voice and face softening. "She oft chose female dress, too, when off Jötunheimr."
Ah, Loki could start to see why his uncle had ceased laughing so abruptly earlier. Or why he had yet to marry despite the need for heirs.
"I fail to see how I was wrong," Loki teased.
Uncle Freyr made an odd, aborted move with his arm, which Loki realized had been his uncle's desire to jostle him in annoyance, before Freyr recalled where they were and Loki's new status.
"Impertinent whelp!" Uncle Freyr muttered instead.
Loki smiled unrepentantly for a moment, ere he sobered. "I take it from what you said before, she vanished rather abruptly?"
"Aye."
He did not need to inquire as to whether the circumstances had been suspicious, Loki could already tell his uncle's opinion of it from the man's manner alone.
"My condolences," he said instead.
"'Twas a long time ago now," Uncle Freyr replied. "But I will treasure what you managed to do with the Casket of Ancient Winters. Gerðr would most definitely have approved."
Though he had never met her, Loki felt the words keenly. She was the last of those like him, and, from the sounds of it, it seemed like she had suffered the same fate Laufey had intended for him. If in taking his own vengeance he had been able to exact some for her as well, then he was pleased for it.
"Well, 'twas my pleasure anyway, but now 'tis even more so," Loki said, before he became more serious. "But you do need an heir, Uncle."
"Do I?" Uncle Freyr inquired, the mischievous expression he shared with Frigga crossing his face. "I seem to have a very capable nephew who is half vanir."
The relief at the confirmation that his uncle did not know was immediately washed away by the horror of his words.
"Nay!" Loki retorted sharply, raising his forefinger in emphasis.
He was not going to be saddled with a different throne! But, how best to ensure it?
"I doubt your people would want someone raised on another Realm," Loki began. "Besides, Father could still change his mind, and then you would be stuck with Thor."
The way his uncle's eyes widened told Loki he had made his point. At least for now.
There were days when the pounding of his head behind his remaining eye made Fury almost want to claw it out.
Today was one of those days.
It had started with a bad night's sleep and gone downhill from there, including spilled coffee, bad traffic, a conference call with the World Security Council, and piles of paperwork. Then, he had received a call to say Stark was up to his usual antics, causing chaos for both his agents and the stock markets. Also, his latest report from the scientists in charge of investigating the event which had caused the collapse of seemingly random people across the globe a week ago, had consisted of so many big words meant to disguise the fact they had no clue why it had happened. Or why most had reported hearing haunting music immediately beforehand. And then his stomach had started complaining about something he'd eaten... or not eaten as the case may be.
If he didn't fear that saying so would make it come true, Fury would say this day couldn't get any worse.
There was a knock on his door.
Fury swore before raising his voice. "What?"
"Is this a bad time?" Coulson asked, entering with the look which Fury had heard agents call the 'trademarked Coulson is unimpressed' expression.
It nearly made him smile. Nearly.
"That depends on why you're here," Fury replied.
He just knew his day was about to get even worse.
"The Bifröst has opened."
Fury swore.
"I've sent Hawkeye and a team to meet whoever has arrived, and to bring them back here," Coulson continued.
"Let's hope it's news of a successful peace treaty with this Jötyn-"
"Jötunheimr, Sir."
"That world."
"Would it make a difference either way?" Coulson asked. "Treaty or no treaty, we've no way of knowing whether this King Laufey will honor it or come looking for war here instead of Ásgarðr."
It was a question Fury had needed to field from everyone ranging from the president to various members of the World Security Council.
"Which is why we're prioritizing the creation of new weapons and investing in whatever Dr. Selvig will require for his research into the Tesseract," Fury replied. "But I've been ordered to cultivate our relationship with the Ásgarðrians as best we can, just in case they're serious about coming to our aid should we be attacked."
"I suppose it comes down to whether we would wish for their help or not."
Fury snorted. "As you say. Let's just hope it never comes to that."
"Hill is preparing a conference room for our guests now."
"Good," Fury locked his computer and rose to his feet. "Let's watch their arrival and see what we're dealing with this time."
They walked through the halls of the makeshift base in silence, heading for the security center. Though Fury had never intended for this base to last this long, he had preferred to keep it operational even after the abrupt and rather dramatic departure of the hammer. Not only was it remote, but by allowing the aliens to view this base, they may underestimate what they were capable of, which couldn't hurt. Well, unless they were serious about this all-seeing and hearing gatekeeper of theirs. The possibility still disturbed him as it had everyone else who'd been informed of what Lord Birgir and Lieutenant-General Yngvarr had said.
Was it even possible? Once, Fury would have thought not, but those days were long gone. Between Rogers, Danvers, Banner and many others, he had long since learned that nothing was truly impossible, merely improbable until proven otherwise. True, the ability to see and hear clear across the universe was rather bigger than anything they had already encountered, but they were dealing with beings who claimed to be well over a thousand years old and whom their own ancestors had looked up to as gods. Right or wrong, it meant they possessed superhuman abilities and Fury would not be caught off-guard just because some supposed skill or ability seemed unlikely.
No, he could only hope most of what was recorded in Norse mythology was as wrong as this King Loki's supposed jötunn nature, or the fact none of the myths knew Thor and Loki were siblings, as otherwise they were in far more trouble than even Fury would like to admit. What with sky walking, world serpents, Ragnarök and all of the rest. As if they didn't have enough to deal with right here on Earth as it was! He could only hope King Loki was as diplomatically oriented as Thor had claimed his brother was, if so, there was a slim chance he'd not only achieved a peace treaty with Jötunheimr, but that it would be kept as well.
"Sir," Hill greeted as he and Coulson entered the security center. "I have prepared the room closest to the entrance for us to meet our guests."
"Good," Fury replied. "Do we know any more?"
"Hawkeye has called in to say they have collected a party of three."
"Three?" Coulson repeated. "That's it?"
"So it would seem," Hill confirmed, bringing up an image from the camera in one of the vehicles sent to retrieve the Ásgarðrians. "One of them is Lord Birgir, the other two are unknown."
That much Fury could see for himself, though one of them - the other man - was dressed similarly to the, what had Thor called them? Ah, yes, the Einherjar, another of those damned new words he'd been forced to learn after Óðinn had deemed fit to send his son crashing to Earth. The other was a woman, dressed quite unlike the warrior Sif who had come previously. This woman was wearing a flowing pale gray dress with some leather and metal pieces which seemed more ornamental rather than utilitarian, though he would not make the mistake of assuming her safe. If her strength was at all like that of Sif, then she was quite dangerous for that alone.
"Do we have names?" Fury asked.
"Eiríkr and Lady Nanna."
"Nanna?" Coulson asked, his eyebrows rising. "She doesn't remind me of any grandmothers I know."
Hill smiled. "I would recommend not mentioning that to her."
"Do we have any information on either from mythology?" Fury asked, ignoring the banter.
"Not on Eiríkr, or at least nothing we could suppose referred to him," Hill replied, moving to one of the computers. "It was a popular Norse name."
"I assume it's not spelled E-R-I-C?"
"Not even close."
"And Nanna?"
"Her, we do have something on, but, even assuming it's at all accurate, there are conflicting narratives," Hill said, pulling up the database they had started compiling with any and all information they could find on Norse mythology. "In one, Nanna is said to be Nepsdóttir and is considered to be the wife of Balðr and the mother of Forseti. In this version, she was said to have died of grief when Balðr was murdered."
"Murdered? By who?" Coulson asked.
"That's where things get a bit tricky given what we know for certain about Ásgarðr. The popular story about Balðr, which is far more consistent, is that he's a son of Óðinn and Frigg, so a half-brother of Thor," Hill explained.
"Wasn't he the one killed by Loki with mistletoe?" Fury questioned.
"Sort of," Hill replied. "The story is that Loki made either a magical spear or arrow of mistletoe, which was the one living thing Frigg had not been able to extract a vow from not to hurt Balðr, after they had both had visions of his death. Loki then gave the spear or arrow to Balðr's blind brother, Höðr, to throw at Balðr, since apparently people had taken to throwing things at him to watch them bounce off."
"Jesus, talk about tempting fate."
"I assume it killed him?" Coulson questioned.
"Yes, but things get even more interesting," Hill replied. "See, in another story about Nanna, it's said she's the daughter of King Gevar and that she married Höðr instead of Balðr. In this version, both she and Höðr are human and Balðr is considered a demi-god. Both Höðr and Balðr apparently competed for her and Höðr won, while Balðr wasted away from nightmares of Nanna."
"Cheerful," Fury muttered. "Is there a version which has more credence to it?"
"The first version seems to be more prevalent and is deemed more truly Norse mythology, rather than a fable which came later or evolved from it."
"But it would paint Loki as an enemy of Nanna, even if she had survived the death of her husband," Coulson mused.
"I would recommend assuming her story to be as inaccurate as Loki's seems to be, even though there are elements of Thor's tales which have proven to be true," Hill said.
"Well, we shall soon find out," Fury stated as he watched the cars pull up outside and his men get out, opening the doors for their guests. "Hill, with me. Coulson, I want you to watch from here and monitor the situation."
With that, Fury turned heel and strode from the security center.
"There are times when I'm still not quite sure I believe I'm awake," Hill said while they approached the meeting room. "What with speaking to representatives of another world and all."
Fury snorted. "Makes you wish for the good old days when it was only superhumans, right?"
"Exactly. It also makes me dread to think how long it will be before this is normal."
Perish the thought, but Fury knew exactly what she meant. He would never have thought dealing with the likes of Stark and Banner would ever be what he longed for.
"It could still be worse," Fury reminded her. "They could be visibly alien, in which case we would have had a far larger problem when Thor first arrived."
It was something which the World Security Council had mentioned, and which Fury had pondered and started to consider planning for. They knew, after all, that not all aliens were so human in appearance as the Ásgarðrians, and SHIELD could not afford to be caught off-guard and without a plan. Not when they were Earth's first and only line of defense against all things either non or superhuman. He would have to give the Avengers Initiative some more thought, even as they moved forwards with the Tesseract project. Just in case it didn't work, or they needed something before Selvig made sufficient progress. The scientist had said it would take years or decades to fully understand the cube.
And, if the peace treaty had failed...
"Let's hope for good news," Hill said as they reached the door to the room she had prepared, an armed guard on either side.
"Lord Birgir," Fury said upon entering the room. "Thank you for returning."
"Director Fury, Agent Hill," Lord Birgir replied, turning from where he and the other two had been examining the refreshments laid out.
Were they that fascinating?
"Thank you for sending transportation to collect us," Lord Birgir continued. "May I introduce Lady Nanna, one of the highly respected magic users on Ásgarðr."
"A witch?" Fury asked in surprise.
It was one of the areas his analysts still struggled with. How a society which was clearly so advanced and technologically superior to any on Earth, could still believe so heavily in magic.
Lady Nanna winced. "Mage would be the proper term. Witches are those with little formal training who peddle in mere potions or curses."
"Ah, our apologies," Hill said. "We are unused to magic, and so do not know all of the differences in meaning between the many terms and names for those who use it."
"Lord Birgir has informed me thus," Lady Nanna replied. "I must admit to being surprised, since Miðgarðr used to have a strong magical tradition."
"That has narrowed over the centuries, particularly the last few," Fury replied.
Lady Nanna smiled and Fury tried to determine her age. She appeared older than Thor or his so-called friends, more like Lord Birgir and Lieutenant-General Yngvarr. Not that it said much, as even Thor was over a thousand years old. Still, he would peg her more as middle-aged, if Ásgarðrians aged at all like humans when accounting for their increased lifespan.
"Would you like something to drink before we sit down?" Hill asked, moving towards the refreshments. "We have coffee, tea or water."
Fury was surprised at the tea, though he supposed it allowed for a greater variety based on the different colored packets.
"Tea I know, what is coffee?" Lord Birgir asked, stepping forwards.
Rather than try to explain, Hill filled him a cup. "Some people add milk or sugar to it," she explained, handing him the mug.
Before Fury could add a warning about the heat, Lord Birgir had already taken a sip, not that it seemed to bother him any.
"It smells bitter," Lady Nanna said. "Do you have any floral teas?"
"Uh, we have some fruit ones and, ah, yes, hibiscus, which is a flower," Hill said, holding up a packet.
"I shall try that," Lady Nanna replied, taking it. "How does it work?"
Much as Fury wanted to start right away, he knew the value of playing nice in situations like this and so waited until everyone was settled, and he had his own cup of coffee.
"I assume you have news of the peace negotiations?" Fury asked, wanting to get straight to the point.
"Aye," Lord Birgir nodded, pulling a large scroll from the bag he carried. "I am happy to say the talks were successful and here is Miðgarðr's official copy of the resulting treaty."
As soon as he touched the scroll, Fury knew that he'd been right, it was freaking parchment. How the hell did such an advanced society like Ásgarðr still use parchment? No doubt they'd have to file it away under the same quirks that led to them still using hammers, axes and swords along with such primitive body armor. At least it gave him hope they might be able to provide something to trade if it ever came to that.
"As that is an official copy, 'tis written in Norse," Lord Birgir continued as Fury unrolled the scroll a little to find it covered in huge runes.
He was no linguist, but they looked to be ancient Norse to him. But why was the writing so large?
"Are the jötnar very large?" Hill asked. "Is that where the... uh... speciest slur came from?"
"Aye," Lord Birgir confirmed. "On average, they are at least twice as tall as the average æsir."
"Æsir is Ásgarðrian, yes?"
"Correct."
From what Fury had seen, they seemed to be slightly larger than humans, so that was not good. Not good at all. He could only imagine what the frost part of frost giant referred to.
"As I have been informed most of you no longer speak Norse, we have had the treaty copied into both English and Mandarin," Lord Birgir continued, pulling out two more scrolls. "I was informed those were the two most common languages now spoken on Miðgarðr. Do you speak either?"
"Do we speak either?" Fury repeated in surprise. "Don't you know what language you're speaking even now?"
"Ah, we are not speaking your tongue," Lady Nanna smiled. "Like all of the other species of the Nine, we have the gift of All-Speak."
"All-Speak?" Hill frowned.
"It means we are able to understand and be understood by all, regardless of the actual language being spoken."
That... would explain a lot, even if Fury was not sure he liked the sound of it.
"How the hell does that even work?" Fury demanded, brow furrowing.
One of the proposed suggestions to get around being overheard by the apparently all-seeing and all-hearing Bifröst guardian had been to say and write confidential information in code or another language, given the Ásgarðrians seemed to speak English. But if they didn't... would code even work, or would this All-Speak translate that too?
"'Tis very complex magic and not fully understood even by many of us," Lady Nanna replied. "'Tis something all of us are granted shortly after birth."
"You call it All-Speak," Hill commented. "Does that mean it works with the written word as well?"
"Nay. That would require another working and is far more difficult as the All-Speak relies on the power of knowing what the speaker intends to say. With written words, the writer could be long dead or thinking of other things at the time the words are being read."
Fury rubbed at his good eye, feeling the headache behind it building. His day really had gotten even worse.
"Fine, so this is a direct copy of the treaty," Fury said, holding up the large scroll before indicating the two smaller ones. "And these are the translations of it."
"Aye, precisely," Lord Birgir confirmed. "Most pertinent for you is that King Loki has managed to achieve peace and reestablished a number of privileges the previous treaty had taken away."
"And this Casket of Ancient Winters?" Hill asked. "It seemed important but also gave them the ability to leave their planet, if I recall correctly."
"Aye," Lord Birgir replied. "It has been returned to Jötunheimr to allow their Realm to heal, but its abilities have been limited so it cannot be utilized for either transportation or attack."
Fury shared a startled glance with Hill. That was a rather surprising development.
"Will the limitations hold?" Fury asked.
"From what I understand, the jötnar currently do not possess a mage powerful enough to undo King Loki's work. And, even if they found one, they would need to decide utilizing it thus was worth the risk of a renewed war precisely when they have regained the only artefact which can save them and their entire Realm."
So possible, but not probable.
He had worked with worse odds before.
"Very well," Fury relented. "If we have any questions after reading it, can we contact you?"
"Naturally," Lord Birgir confirmed. "Next, you will be pleased to hear all four of those who attacked your men were found guilty of not only those crimes, but dereliction of duty and treason as well."
"Good. Their punishment?"
"A life sentence of indentured servitude."
"Indentured servitude?" Hill repeated in surprise. "Ah... what does that mean for you? I believe it may be different from what it means- or meant- here."
"Certainly. It means they will be forced to perform tasks for the rest of their lives, often manual," Lord Birgir explained. "For instance, they have been put to work aiding with some repair work in the eastern part of the city."
"You allow them out of prison?" Fury frowned. "Those who have committed treason? What's to keep them from escaping?"
"Their collars," Lady Nanna replied. "This sentence comes with the fitting of modified dökkálfarian slave collars imbued with metal magic."
"Slave collars?" Fury repeated, his very being rebelling against the mere idea.
"It allows the king and guards to give them orders which they cannot disobey. Such as do not attempt to escape, or report anyone who tries to aid you in doing so."
"Mind control magic," Hill deduced.
"Nay," Lady Nanna denied. "It does not influence their thoughts or desires, only their actions."
"There is magic which can do the other two?"
"Aye, 'tis the darkest and foulest of arts, forbidden throughout the Nine by joint decree of the other Realms, but still used beyond the Yggdrasill."
Fear sliced through Fury and, while he had would not allow it to show, he had no qualms admitting it to himself. Magic that could influence the mind and desires was not something he wanted to contemplate, much less know existed.
How could they possibly defend against that?
"You are not pleased," Lord Birgir asked with a furrowed brow.
"We're not used to magic, it's startling," Hill responded. "And we have done away with slavery long ago."
"As have we, hence the alterations made to the collars," Lord Birgir clarified. "If utilized as the dökkálfar do, it would be true slavery. We have, however, applied restrictions and they can only be used on those sentenced thus for high level crimes. Also, we do not extend it to cross generations or allow citizens to utilize it."
It made Fury feel a bit better, but the mere implications were enough to make him deeply uncomfortable even if the US did use prison labor itself. Those damn collars made all of the difference.
It seemed to constantly come back around to magic, and he knew the World Security Council wouldn't like it. He could just see them demanding he start a magical division of SHIELD.
"And their punishment is for life?" Hill asked.
"Aye."
"Do you know why King Loki went with this punishment rather than another?" Fury asked. "You had mentioned other possibilities before including execution."
"During the trial, the king said this way they could pay back Ásgarðr for their crimes," Lord Birgir said. "I have also heard he has said it gives them no choice but to follow the proper chain of command."
"Poetic," Fury could not help but admit.
And he could see the appeal of the collars when worded like that, though he wished he couldn't.
"Silvertongue," Hill said, inadvertently reminding Fury of all the titles Loki had collected in Norse mythology.
It was a fair few, more than any of the others, bar Óðinn.
Lord Birgir smiled. "'Tis a kenning King Loki has gained from the ljósálfar. On Ásgarðr, he is often called a wordsmith."
"We also have a third name for him in our mythology," Fury stated, curious to see how they would react.
"Related to words and ending in smith?"
"Yes."
"That would come from the dökkálfar," Lord Birgir explained. "He had dealings with some who preferred to call him a liar rather than admit they had been deceived by his words and had not understood his meaning."
An elegant way to put it, though Fury knew well there could often be several sides to a story, let alone two.
More politics and family drama, woven together! I hope you enjoyed that and have lots of questions about what, precisely, happened around the time of the last war. I'll definitely be coming back to all of it in the sequel 😁
As regards the whole 'ice maidens' thing, this is partly based on the needs of the fic, but also partly on mythology. If you look at the stories, jötunn or jötnar is sometimes used to describe giants, and sometimes exceedingly beautiful beings; such as Skaði & Gerðr, who are married to Njörðr & Freyr, respectively. I've just taken this uncertainty and run with it to explain some of the odd discrepancies within the MCU, and for the purposes of this fic.
The brief interlude on Earth is added in here more to close the subplot started with Thor being banished there, but I couldn't resist knocking on the fourth wall a bit. Rather than tidy up the myths and bring Norse mythology in this fic universe more into line with the MCU canon, I've decided to leave it more as it really is. That just gives me more room to toy with it, both here and later. Therefore most of what was mentioned in the dialogue between Fury, Hill and Coulson is real, just pulled from different sources. How much I'll run with as being 'real' is a different matter altogether...
I'm also delighted to say that penguinofthewaddles has drawn even more fantastic art for this fic! This time of the burning of the Yggdrasill, when Loki was channeling the excess seiðr off through Gungnir. It can be found on Instagram. I'm being so spoiled with art!
Finally, I've answered some more commonly asked fic & writing related questions on my blog if anyone is interested.
Norse Mythology:
Forseti - god of justice and reconciliation [deep dive into him on my blog]
As stated in the chapter, Eiríkr is just a common name, with no particular references.
Old Norse:
dökkálfar - dwarves
ljósálfar - "light elves"
jötnar/jötunn - "frost giants"/"frost giant"
æsir - the gods of the principal pantheon in Norse religion - so Ásgarðrians here
vanir - one of two groups of gods (the other being the æsir), from Vanaheimr
íviðjur/íviðja - a word of seeming nebulous origin, often translated as "giantesses"/"giantess", but I did find some sources which said they were a different, better looking type of jötnar.
seiðberandi - sorcerers/mages
Just so you know hrognal is an entirely made up word.
Up next week: Fury's part continued & the final scene of the treaty signing ceremony...