Chapter 4- Agmund
Asgard was, of all the nine realms, the most prosperous and beautiful. That is not to say that the other realms were dull in anyway sense of the word. Why, if one ventured to Vanaheim they could enjoy the sweet smelling air of the hanging gardens that hugged and crept over the white stone buildings. Venture into Alfheim in the right season and one could see that the nights glowed under the moon light as did its people, who take great joy in dancing and holding festivals at all hours. Though very little light enters into Nidavellir, the caves that the dwarves made into homes and cities have magnificent carvings etched into the walls. Even Jotunheim, though few would dare to speak or even recall, had beautiful architecture created from both stone and ice; though the war had caused the sturdy structures to crumble, any who traveled to Jotunheim today would admit that even the ruins held a certain enchantment about them.
These are just to name a few, yet none could deny that Asgard could hold one's eyes for hours with its golden palace, sky high buildings that touched the clouds and the beauty and laughter of its people.
But even the Golden Realm had its poor.
The palace stands in the center of the city. Around it are the houses of nobles and high ranking warriors. A little beyond the houses are the barracks and training grounds for soldiers. Conveniently placed taverns were built nearby for warriors who needed some good meat and ale after sparring.
The barracks and taverns take up the South and East side of Asgard while the North and West side held the market place, the houses of the citizens of Asgard and a few inns for travelers. The market place is vast and filled with vendors from several realms, selling their goods in wooden booths. It's a loud and lively place, filled with yelling, haggling and few brawls every now and then.
As one traveled farther West, they would leave the city and enter into the fields of farmers. Should they travel North, they would not find fields but shabby buildings, muddy streets and dirty people with quiet, hungry eyes.
Though it has no true name, it is often called the Rust District of Asgard by the citizens. Indeed, many mothers warn their children that if they venture into the Rust District, they will be caught and sold to the Jotuns to be eaten. Stories like this and the belief that liars and thieves live there have given the Rust District a distrustful reputation that made it even harder for its inhabitants to make ends meet.
The truth is, while there are some strange and dishonorable characters living in the district, it is mostly made up of widows, orphans and the sickly. When Asgard had been at war with Vanaheim so long ago, it was the North side that had been attacked hardest and it was those living in that area that suffered the most.
This is not to say its reputation is entirely undeserved.
Agmund whistled a soft tune to himself as he casually bumped into another Asgardian at the market place, causing the woman to drop her goods onto the dirty street. A few apples and loaf of bread got a little muddy while her milk, in a finely crafted pitcher, broke apart. She cursed him for his carelessness and bent down to pick up what she could salvage. Gasping in mortification, Agmund bent down and helped her, apologizing as he did.
If his hand managed to slip her coin purse and an apple into his pocket, well, perhaps she should have paid better attention.
It is not that Agmund particularly enjoys stealing from others. In fact he rather detests it, but nobody buys the goods offered in the Rust District and he and his mother have to eat somehow. Often times, he'll keep an eye out for the more finely dressed shoppers. Nobles never mingled with the commoners but they often sent their servants out wearing fine clothing to show their wealth without even being there.
Agmund hated that. Hated that these people were so high and mighty; wealthy enough to show off but not kind enough to help those below their stations.
Agmund grew up believing that the poor were invisible to the rich. He and his kind were nothing more than something to joke about or to be accused of a crime when noticed. He burned to prove them wrong, to show that the poor of Asgard were not liars and cheats; that they worked just as hard as everyone else and if they were just granted a moderate amount of money to fix up the district, they could integrate with the market place and make their own way like everyone else.
He and numerous others from the district had tried several times to petition before the All Father but none of them had ever made it past the palace guards, who felt their dirty faces and rags for clothes were unsuitable to be seen by anyone in the Royal Court.
It was humiliating and it made those in the Rust District overflow with resentment towards anything related to Asgard's upper crust.
So one day when he spots a slender young man dressed in fine greens and silvers, Agmund thinks he's another servant and goes about his business bumping into him as the man looks at some daggers a merchant is trying to sell him. Green eyes set in pale skin look at him curiously as Agmund slyly maneuvers a heavy coin purse from a silk pocket into the sleeve of his shirt. All the while, he holds the servants eyes and gives him a sheepish smile and quick apology to which the servant gives back a small smile along with the tiny, barely there tilt of his head before turning his attention back to the merchant.
Agmund thought nothing more of it as he rounded the corner and took out the coin purse to see how much he managed to get off the servant. By the feel of the purse, it would seem like he had made a good haul.
So he is naturally shocked when upon opening the purse, there is nothing but air inside. The heaviness disappeared the moment he looked in and he was left with an empty purse. A finely made one but an empty one all the same.
Bewildered and disappointed (but mostly bewildered) Agmund decided to recount his earlier hauls and was astounded to discover that all 3 coin purses he had lifted off others had been lifted off him.
That servant had pick-pocketed him!
Stunned at this revelation, Agmund looks around the corner to catch sight of the man only to find him gone.
It stings his pride that his own skill had been used against him so finely that he had not even noticed. He tried to put it out if his mind as he spent the rest of the day making up for what he lost. Unfortunately, he was only able to grab two more purses before a cry went up in the crowd that there was a thief in their midst. Agmund quickly and quietly made his way back to the Rust District before he could be accused.
As he walked towards his small house, he mentally prepares himself to face his mother. She does not judge him for what he does; she knows he steals so they can live another day. Still, it hurts to look at her; to see the woman who had raised him so thin and frail. A woman still deeply broken over the death of her husband, a fine man who had fallen in battle, whose only presence in the house was a sword hanging on the wall. It was the only thing of value that they had and Agmund would never dare ask his mother to sell it. She looked to the sword every day for strength and guidance. Without it, Agmund feared she would wither away, turn to dust and join his father in the afterlife.
After his father's death, she had been able to support them with her sewing but as the Rust District's reputation grew, she lost clients. For a time she taught the orphans of the district how to read and write, often having them practice writing in the dirt with sticks. She was not paid for this but as the orphans and Agmund grew, they found other means of supporting themselves and had no qualms giving her bread and drink on someone else's money.
As Agmund rests his hand on the door handle, he stops as he hears voices conversing inside. Fearing the worst - guards, interrogating his mother about his crimes - he quickly pushes the door open and wonders if he can reach his father's sword before the guards can draw their weapons.
But there are no guards - only his mother chatting with the servant from the market place. The servant looked out of place in Agmund's house; his elegant clothing and clean appearance clashed with the rickety table and crudely put together chair he was sitting on. The windows were dirty with a few broken panes and the walls had cracks.
Both looked over at him and the servant let loose a mischievous smile before hiding it behind his hand. Confused at the turn of events, Agmund turned to his mother and demanded answers. Her eyes lit up in a way he hadn't seen since he was a small child, but there was also reproach in them as she introduced Prince Loki to him.
Prince Loki. Not a servant.
He had stolen from a prince.
By Valhalla, he was going to be executed, wasn't he?
It wasn't that he hadn't been aware of what the princes looked like; it was that Thor was seen more by the common people than Loki. Thor, who loved to go on adventures with his comrades and get drunk at the taverns while telling tales of their bravery to all who would listen. Loki, while often mentioned in these stories, had never been seen at the bars, so while most people knew what Thor looked like, few had ever seen Loki.
Of course, his exploits were as famous as Thor's adventures. There are not many that can get away with changing the all the ale in the palace to water and live to tell the tale.
And while he had been described as pale skinned with green eyes and black hair, Agmund would have thought the prince would have had a pair of guards with him if he was shopping at the market.
Agmund stands there and waits for Prince Loki to condemn him. Clearly, his mother wasn't aware he had stolen from the prince else she would not be so relaxed. He's prepared to get on his knees and beg that his mother be spared but Prince Loki simply nods his head as he did at market before turning back to converse with Agmund's mother.
Still uneasy, Agmund joins them at the table and sees that his mother had brought out some clothes she had made. Prince Loki looked them over with a delicate eye before declaring that he would like to commission a tunic from her. He sat down a coin purse - the same one Agmund had taken - and asked if it was enough.
With trembling hands, Agmund's mother loosened the string and let out a shaky breath at the gold coins that spilled onto the table. With tears in her eyes, she tells the prince that it is far too much for a tunic and tries to give some back.
Prince Loki shook his head and told her that he would have nothing but the best and that the coins should cover for both supply and labor. Still in shock, his mother asks the prince what type of tunic he'd like her to make. Smiling, Prince Loki tells her that as long as it was green, she could do as she pleased. After saying this, he glanced out the window and exclaimed that he must take his leave lest his absence be noticed at the palace. As he walks to the door, he calls out over his shoulder that he would be back at the end of the week to check on the progress.
Both Agmund and his mother are speechless. After a moment of silence, his mother begins to babble as she starts to move in a frenzy. She talks about everything at once; what type of clothe she would need, if silver thread would be in bad taste and that she needed new needles this instant.
Agmund is wondering why his head is still attached to his shoulders.
As he thinks over the strange events that occured, he becomes more and more convinced that it is an elaborate prank that Prince Loki has set up. By the end of the week, Prince Loki will come back, scoff at tunic and have Agmund arrested.
He vaguely considers running to another realm (taking his mother with him, of course) but even though Agmund is a poor Asgardian, he is still an Asgardian with pride and he will accept the consequences of his actions. A right pity though, he thinks as he caresses the sword on the wall, that his father did not survive. Agmund had always loved his father's sword. He had no wish to wield it, but he was fascinated with the shape of the blade, the curve of the hilt and the designs so intricately engraved onto the steel.
Surely, had his father lived, they would be living in a nice house and Agmund could have been a blacksmith's apprentice.
But the reality is that his father is dead, they are not living in a nice house and Agmund is not a blacksmith's apprentice.
He goes through the next few days as a man living his lasts. His mother - he has not the heart to tell her of what will come - works on the tunic with the fervor of one possessed. She used part of the money to buy the finest supplies she could and Agmund could see a masterpiece slowly being sewn together.
He ardently hopes Prince Loki will not destroy the tunic.
Prince Loki kept his word and came back at the end of the week. Again, he is alone and again he nods politely to Agmund before inspecting what his mother had made so far of the tunic. The Prince has a good eye, Agmund decides, when he declares the work top quality and gives his mother even more money despite her still having much left over from the last time.
They talk a little, his mother and the Prince. She's flushing with pride, telling the Prince all these technical terms that Agmund knows the prince must find boring. But Prince Loki seems to be a keen listener and hangs onto her every word, nodding every now and again and even asking questions.
The Prince's act is very good, but Agmund can see through it and it angers him. It is one thing to trick him - he deserves it for stealing, but his mother had done nothing.
He slams his fists on the table, startling the two and demands that Prince Loki stop his mind games. His mother gives him a horrified look and Prince Loki cocks his head to the side in a curious manner. The prince explains that he is not playing any games; he is overseeing a tunic he commissioned.
Agmund snorted at the diplomatic answer and called the prince out like the liar he is. Prince Loki flinched at the accusation and his mother, Odin help him, his mother. . .
. . . reached across the table and slapped him across the face.
"Who are you, thief?" she had hissed at him, the red sting on his face still prominent and throbbing. "Who are you to slander one of the Royal Family? You shame me," she said, before solemnly pointing at the sword on the wall.
"You shame him."
He choked out the story to her; how he had accidently stolen from the Prince when he mistook him for a servant. It only infuriated her more and through gritted teeth she explained that she was aware of his error, seeing as the prince had painted it as a humorous story to her and that he felt no harm had been done since no money had actually been stolen. Regardless, she had offered to sew some clothes for free to make up for Agmund's actions and had been showing the Prince some of her past work when Agmund had walked in.
And Agmund does feel shame as he takes in Prince Loki who had been silent. Prince Loki, who could have had Agmund killed for theft, had not only forgiven the transgression but had even helped his starving family.
Falling to his knees before the Prince, he bowed until his forehead hits the dirt and begged for forgiveness.
And Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies, forgave.
It took Agmund a long time to puzzle out why Prince Loki had forgiven him. Had it been Prince Thor, Agmund had no doubt he would have been summoned to the training grounds and killed in battle, for that is how Thor handles those who displease him.
Prince Loki began coming by the Rust District once a week. The orphans and other residence were nervous in the beginning - for why would a prince spend his time in the Rust District? - but over time, his visits became welcomed, anticipated even, when it became clear he was there to help them.
The younger orphans, in particular, enjoyed his visits because he often came in disguise and the first to find him would receive a gold coin and a magic trick.
Through the years, Prince Loki made the Rust District a better place. It started with Agmund's mother (now a Royal Seamstress) but it had expanded once the other residents felt comfortable talking to Prince Loki. Agmund felt significantly better when others did not recognize Loki as a prince upon first meeting him.
It was Prince Loki who brought back medicine and used spells to help heal the ill. If he could not heal them, then he would bring someone who could.
It was Prince Loki who listened to the residence and helped them achieve their dreams. Several orphans were able to go to school because Prince Loki paid for them; the girl down the road who was happiest when she was baking was hired by a local baker after Prince Loki spoke of her talent. Often, Agmund passed her in the morning and could hear her humming sweetly as she set out freshly baked loaves to cool.
It was Prince Loki that set Agmund up an apprenticeship with the local blacksmith.
That had been many years ago, when Agmund had been a child who thought he was a man.
And for all those years he never understood why Prince Loki would do so much for people who could offer nothing in return. Agmund had thought on it often and it was in the middle of etching the runes of a warrior's name into a sword that he realized why Prince Loki had done what he had so long ago.
Agmund is a well-known blacksmith now and he often received commissions from the noble households. He learned they were not all bad people, but sometimes he would catch them gossiping about how Prince Loki had wasted his time and money trying to fix up the Rust District, unaware that a former occupant was but a few feet away. Nobles like that often discovered priceless items missing after Agmund was finished, though none had connected it to him.
Prince Loki loved the people of Asgard. Simple as that.
Prince Thor brings glory to Asgard by his great feats done outside the realm.
He is loved for it.
Prince Loki brings glory to Asgard by making sure her people are happy.
He has never been recognized for this.
So when word breaks out that Prince Loki was captured and a rescue party was being put together, Agmund does not volunteer to go. He doesn't have the any skills that would be helpful in battle. He does, however, make sure the finest swords he made are given to the warriors going for no cost.
He also begins on a set of daggers for Prince Loki when he returns.
And he will return.
After all, if Prince Loki can pick-pocket the best thief in the Rust District, he can escape a few kidnappers.