Last Time on BPoT:
Loki peers over his book at them from his spot on the couch. Thor is nowhere to be seen. Odd. Green eyes blink slowly several times before he hides behind the pages again. Natasha snags two ice teas, weaves her way between Clint and Phil, and nudges Loki over with her foot, so she can sit too. The alien pulls his long legs in, curling up like a kid.
She tunes out the rest of the noise as she hands him a tea bottle. "Bad?"
He nods.
"Is it your head or bones?"
"Head."
"Flashback?"
"Two. But not severe. I kept my surroundings for the most part." He sips his drink. "Thor helped."
"Good." Natasha cracks open her drink. "Where is he?"
"Calling mother." Loki turns a page. "He's worried."
She lets the slightly sour taste of green tea slither down her throat. "He's your brother."
"Yes."
"Game night," she tells him. "You up for it?"
"If only to beat Phil at chess."
She snorts. "No one beats Phil at chess. Ever."
"I will."
She sends him a sympathetic smile.
"Cynic." He mock snarls at her, before turning back to his book.
She laughs.
The invisible sword above them wobbles precariously.
And Now:
It takes all Odin's strength not to melt the gilded courtroom, to not call upon some ancient magic and smite those before him. He wrestles with the desire to scream and rale at these nobles who dare to demean his son, Loki, who think they can demand more payment from his youngest. They sit round the circular table, smug in their confidence that Odin will soon see their point of view.
"It is not that we doubt your wisdom, All-Father," Kari says again, playing with his bejeweled fingers.
Odin almost snorts.
Oh, how they pretend to grovel before him.
We don't doubt you, Oh King Most Powerful, they say. (Then why do they continue to argue this?)
We don't wish to insert ourselves into judgement already passed. (Lies, they've been trying to 'help' him make decisions for weeks now)
Oh no, no. We only worry at the lenient comfort afforded to Loki. (As if they wouldn't beg for such, if it were they on trial)
Surely, they whine, Loki will manipulate the mortals with his quick tongue, convince them to raze Asgard to the ground.
Odin hides a smirk. Loki wouldn't need to say anything. The nobles would convince the humans to attack all by themselves – which would be a headache in and of itself.
"We think only for the good of Asgard, my king," Thelmsa, daughter of Gad, smiles. Her red sleeve falls a bit lower on her cream arm as she angles herself closer to Odin. He feels bile try to erupt from his throat. As if he would ever think of betraying his wife for such a harlot, for any woman! This wench holds not a flicker of light to his beloved.
"Indeed," Kari is quick to agree Thelmsa. "Loki is dangerous to those untrained to watch for his lies. The mortals are…ill equipped for holding him."
Stupid, weak, below us, are the adjectives Odin is sure the man wants to use.
"Can we allow such a mistake to last?" another noble murmurs.
"You have been too kind to the Trickster for too long, my king," Thelmsa says, insists really.
"Indeed, perhaps another –"
"Enough!" Tyr snaps, standing, his chair almost falling over. The general glares at the Asgardians round the table. "You forget yourselves."
"We – "
"I said, enough!" Tyr snarls. "You think your king has not thought of these things? That he cares more for Loki than for Asgard? You think him unfit to rule?"
"No!" Kari's eyes widen at the most serious accusation. "We, of course, defer to the wisdom of the All-Father."
There is, however, too little respect in his tone, and too much playact. These nobles have become much confident in their position. It is, perhaps, time to rectify that. Weed out the old court and replace it with better, more learned men and women. But first…
Odin rises slowly, all eyes riveted to his every motion. "I have indulged you for many days now, in deference to your parents' old ties to this court. I have listened to children whine and snivel at a missed act of vengeance."
"All-Father…!"
"Silence!" Odin slams Gungnir against the cold floor. A wave of magic washes across the room. "You seek revenge for the many times my son has embarrassed or caught you."
Not one of them denies it.
Good, Odin is tired of the blatant falsehoods.
"I have decided Loki's punishment. I have passed it as judgement. It has been written in the scrolls for all time. It will not be revoked." Odin locks his gaze on each of them for a moment. "Any more questions about this will be treated as treason, for I cannot see it as anything else. Why else would you continue to go against my decree, if not because you think yourselves better fit to rule Asgard?"
Thelmsa opens her mouth, but shuts it quickly.
Odin raises Gungnir again. "We have a mad titan roving the universes. He seeks Asgard. He will find it soon. We would best spend our time to prepare, so he will find us ready for him."
The nobles murmur in quiet agreement.
"This meeting is finished," Odin decrees, and leaves them to find their own way home. The guards will direct them out, because he has dealt with them for as long as he can. By all the stars! He hates diplomacy sometimes. He misses the olden days when a sword and a quick skirmish could end an argument before it began. Odin sighs. But then, that is what led to Hela and her madness, is it not?
So much blood, wasted, lost, because he was too quick to war against those who disagreed with him.
Thank the heavens, Frigga married him. His angel in armor saved more than the Nine Realms, she drew his soul back for the eternal pits of hell.
"My king," Tyr says, suddenly at his side.
Odin pauses. "What is it, my old friend?"
"I fear not all the nobles will let this go so easily."
"You think them foolish enough to start an insurrection?" Odin prays not. The last thing they need is a civil war, not when Thanos is so close to attacking.
Tyr shakes his head. "No. They will not risk Asgard so."
"You think they will attack my son."
"Yes." Tyr leans against the wall. "Lorelei comes to mind. She has not been seen for many years now, and has a deep grudge against Loki. For those desperate enough, she can be found through the dark magics."
"I cannot spare troops to send to Earth." Odin feels the weight of kingship fall heavier on his shoulders. How he wishes he could send thousands of soldiers to protect his son. But he cannot, and Loki will understand that. It will hurt him, Odin has no doubt, but Loki has always known the sacrifices a king makes, even of his loved ones.
"I do not say to send troops, my king. A few well-trained men and women would do nicely. I highly suggest a magic user as well."
Odin ponders this. "It will spark more ill-will."
Tyr snorts "To send people to protect their heir to the throne? Hardly."
Odin laughs. "As always, you are cleverer than me in subterfuge."
"I try, my king."
Odin shakes his head. Try, indeed. Tyr has ever been by Odin's side, through the dark times as well as the lighter ones. It does Odin's heart good to see his sons have such a stanch protector. There were times he began to doubt it, thought perhaps the general might be swayed by the nobles, but Tyr proved himself many a time.
0/0/0/0
The blood still trails to the doorway. The servants work quickly to rid the hallway of the gruesome evidence, but the constant activity of healers going in and out disrupt the cleaning. Odin hesitates to step over the congealed splatters – so much, how is his boy still alive after losing so much! – before entering the healing room. General Tyr is beside Frigga, murmuring soft somethings to her. His wife's eyes blaze with a Valkyrie's fury. Thor…is nowhere to be seen. Odin prays his eldest is not involved in this.
And Loki…his youngest, his clever Loki, is laid on a bed. Above him, gold and blue holograms move and fluctuate as the healers work to save his life. Many bones and muscles are broken and ripped, but, worse, blood pours out of his pores like waterfalls. Puddles grow on the floor surrounding the table. It stains the bottoms of the healers' dresses and robes. Odin resists the urge to go over and stroke his boy's hair, to comfort and reassure Loki that he is not alone.
By all the Realms, Loki isn't even out of his middle years, not even considered a man yet!
"General," Odin commands.
Tyr removes himself from Frigga's side, and kneels on one knee before Odin. "My king."
"Rise, my general. Report this foul deed."
Tyr stands. "The enchantress, Lorelei. She attacked the princes while we were on a mock patrol. She segregated them from the rest of the group, wove her magic to befuddle our minds."
"You attacked them," Odin says. It is to be expected. Lorelei has quite a few tricks in her arsenal, but her most prominent is the use of bespelling men to do her every wish.
"We did." Sorrow fills Tyr's face. "I tried, my king. I tried to resist her. I knew what she wanted. But…"
Odin lays a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I do not blame you."
Tyr does not shake off the forgiving grip, but his glare does deepen. "Loki was finally able to defeat her spell on us, but she wove something else before she left. It is what is causing…this."
Tyr waves at all the blood.
"What spell did she use?" Odin asks.
"We are not sure, my king," a greying healer answers for Tyr. "But we are close."
Odin nods to him, before focusing back on Tyr. He stifles the hot anger that wishes to burst out. Tyr is not the one at fault here. Lashing out at him will do no good. "Has she been captured?"
"Yes. Your sons did well, my king. They fought bravely. Loki kept Thor safe, even at the risk of his own health. That last spell was aimed for Thor."
As Loki ever does, he protects his older brother. Odin's pride for his boy swells, even as he worries over the lack of self-preservation. It's no wonder Thor is not here. The guilt, the rage…Thor is most likely in the training grounds, beating some poor, unfortunate post of wood into splinters.
"Come," Odin demands. "We shall get our answers from her."
0/0/0/0
Yes, Tyr has proven himself loyal to the family. Were the situation with Thanos not so dire, Odin might send Tyr with the party to Earth. The old general has a way with his youngest that not many do.
"Who would you suggest for such an undertaking?" Odin asks.
Tyr's brow wrinkles in thought. "Hogan and Volstagg to start. Familiar faces for both your sons."
"But not the Lady Siff or Sir Fandral?"
"Nay. I have need of Siff for the female side of our army. She encourages them. And besides…" Here Tyr gives a rueful chuckle. "I had thought to try her with the Valkyrie."
"They have long forsaken Asgard."
"Not without just cause."
Odin sighs. "No, not without just cause. We have wronged them most terribly. You think Lady Siff will be enough to convince them to aid us?"
"Us? No. But Asgard's people? She might."
Odin can only hope so. "What of Fandral?"
"He is…too young, my king, too self-absorbed. I would rather keep him close, train him more, else he will die in the first wave from Thanos."
Odin nods. "Very well. Who else shall we send? I have a mind to send the Lady Eira. She is a most proficient healer, and my wife has told me she is advanced in the art of magic as well."
"I agree. Garth and Eske would be a good set to add as well," Tyr says.
"Very well then. Gather them and meet me in my private quarters in one hour's time. I shall give my blessing for their task."
One hour is, indeed, not long to prepare, but Odin fears to wait til the morrow. For Tyr to even warn him means that the nobles will not wait long. And, should they find Lorelei, it will be even sooner.
Odin leaves Tyr to his duty.
The tingle of long forgotten magic dances on the breezes as he nears his wife's chambers. He slows, allowing the soothing touch to mellow his irritation, to smooth the worries Thanos has brought up. He knocks on the door.
"Come, my beloved," Frigga calls.
He enters, thankful to find her alone. "My queen."
"Loki is not out of danger," she tells him.
Odin sinks into a chair, propping Gungnir beside him on the wall. "I presumed as much."
"He is surrounded by friends." Frigga weaves the strands of her banner through her loom, deft fingers never missing a thread.
"And will they sing his death song when he passes?" Odin whispers.
For months now, he has born the guilt of placing this curse on his son. In what was meant to be a kindness, Odin stripped Loki of his Asgardian and Jotun forms. He thought to make Loki vulnerable enough to elicit pity from his once enemies. Only after, when he sought out Heimdall, did Odin realize the plague he'd brought down on his son instead. The slow, agonizing death he'd doomed Loki to bear.
As soon he'd found out, Odin had readied himself to go to Loki, to reverse his spell, to save his son. Frigga stopped him. His love, his heart, told him that to do so would bring Asgard to ruin. The nobles would rebel at such an obvious gesture of favoritism. The threads revealed Thanos attaining Asgard because of it. She warned him to leave Loki's recovery or death to others, to let loom weave its path. But…
"Do you still persist that I can do naught to aid him?" he asks.
"Yes."
"It is hard, to sit by and know that I could end his sufferings with a few words, were I at his side."
"I know," Frigga stops her loom's rhythmic march. "Think you it does not pain me as well?"
"Nay, I know it does." Odin takes her chilled hand in his larger one. "Has the loom shown anything more to tell us of his fate?"
"No. It remains silent on this."
Of course, it does.
"And Thanos?" he asks.
"He reaches the border of the Realms now. Soon, his touch will be felt by all."
"I must ready our patrols then."
Frigga squeezes his hand gently. "A letter, sent with group bound for Earth would not be amiss, my husband. If you cannot go to Loki, at least send him word of your love."
Odin kisses the back of her hand. Then he lets go, grabs Gungnir, and departs without another word. He will leave Frigga to her work, and attend to his own.
And we finally get back to Asgard! Man, Odin is not a happy alien, is he? Poor guy. Ah well, maybe this healer will be able to help Loki for him. Or will she...? Dum, dum, duuum!
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