Mythology Note: the "new arrivals" referred to here are the mortals who die in combat who were, in Norse legends, brought to Valhalla by the Valkyries. Also, not sure if there are actually villages on Asgard, so I added that with author's license. I figure there have to be other minor gods without much power on Asgard; who else filled the halls at Thor's coronation?
If any of you know more about Norse mythology, please let me know in the reviews. My resources don't tell me much about these sorts of details.
Also, just realized AFTER publishing this chapter that my computer auto-corrected all of the curse words into jibberish. So some of it didn't make sense. My apologies-what you see now is the correct rendition of the text.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In a matter of minutes, the blanket of quiet that usually fell over the villages surrounding the palace during the night shattered and transformed into a frenzy of warriors and weapons. Even Thor, who usually parted crowds merely by stepping into the room, had to dodge out of the way of several men trying to keep control of wild horses or deliver weapons to somebody.
He finally reached the stable where the Warriors Three and Sif had gathered to prepare for battle. He had to stoop over the low table Sif was using to pore over maps of Jotunheim. "How many warriors do we have?" he asked.
"About three hundred," Fandral said.
Sif glared at him. "Three hundred able-bodied men and women who want to fight," she amended sharply. She crossed her arms and turned to Thor. "We only have a handful of real warriors at the moment: the Valkyries, about a dozen of their new arrivals from Midgard who actually know how to use swords, perhaps seven townspeople who are actually competent at warfare…"
"And Loki."
The Warriors and Sif stared at him in disbelief.
"So it's true?" Hogun said incredulously.
"Oh, we know it's true," Sif snapped. "There must have been twenty people in the hall when he arrived. What I want to know is why we suddenly trust the Frost Giant after he betrayed us."
"Now is not the time to explain," Thor said evenly. "We have more important matters to attend to. But know this: I shall be working in tandem with my brother, and I expect all four of you to do the same." He looked at each of them sternly. "I trust him. Do you each trust me?"
They hesitated. After a long pause, Fandral nodded.
"With my life."
"With all of our lives," Volstagg said, unsheathing his sword.
Hogun nodded in agreement.
Thor turned to study Sif, who was still glaring at him with steely eyes. "What say you, Lady Sif?" he asked.
She stared at him a moment longer, raising an eyebrow. "If he tries to make me to bow to him again, I will break his nose." She sighed. "Alright. Where is the sorry bastard? He needs to be armored up if he expects to tag along."
Thor glanced towards the castle. "He's getting ready. In his own way."
"Would it be redundant to call you a bitch again?" Darcy snapped as she and Loki hurried down the staircase to the gardens.
"Yes, but if it makes you feel better, by all means."
"You're a bitch."
"Arf."
"And you're a smart-ass ."
"It comes with the territory."
Darcy sighed. "I still can't believe you lied to Odin to 'protect' me."
"I didn't lie," Loki said hurriedly. "I omitted."
"On the off chance he did think I should be punished, what's the worst thing he could do? I don't have any immortality to take away."
"Oh, we gods are pretty creative at punishment," Loki said breezily. "Nothing I would want or expect you to endure, especially since most of them would kill a mortal. Beheading, sewing peoples' lips shut, tying people up under a poisonous snake so that venom falls all over them and burns through their skin…" He held out his arm as he opened a door for Darcy. She rolled her eyes.
"Why do I get the impression that these punishments were invented for you?"
"Well, I am, as you say, 'a bitch ' and a smart-ass. Although if you wanted to get technical about it I'm usually male, so the title 'bitch' would be somewhat inaccurate."
"Usually?"
"I believe we've discussed the matter of my shapeshifting across genders before."
"That explains it. I blocked the memory out because the idea of Thor in a dress was too traumatizing to handle," she deadpanned.
Loki swallowed the comeback on his lips, for they had reached the marble pavilion in the middle of the herb gardens. Odin was there waiting, his back to the pathway as he stared up at the stars.
"I am ready to perform the spell, All-Father," Loki announced by way of greeting.
Odin turned around, a grim look on his face.
"Have you the materials?" he asked.
Loki reached into the folds of his armor and withdrew the vial from the General.
Darcy felt slightly nauseous. "You don't have to, like, drink that…right?"
"No." He fished a small dagger and a pair of vials from his cloak as well. "What the spell consists of is mixing the blood from each of the persons and applying it like a salve to the scar while focusing a particular brand of healing magic upon myself." He handed the dagger and one of the vials to Odin. "One or two drops from each of you will suffice."
Odin smoothly took the blade and pierced his fingertip with it. Without flinching, he held the cut over the vial until two small drops of crimson spilled out. Once he finished stoppering the bottle, he murmured something in a tongue Darcy couldn't recognize, setting his finger afire in a small blaze of light. When the fire petered out, no hint of the cut was left on Odin's hand.
She grimaced. My turn. She reached out for the knife, but Loki caught her wrist.
"I'll do it," he said. He unflexed her pinky gently and laid the smallest edge of the knife against her skin. She screwed her eyes shut, expecting a stab of sharp pain. But she felt nothing.
She opened her eyes, confused. She found that Loki was already putting a stopper on the flask. He smiled slightly. "Insensitivity spell," he explained. He then took her hand by the finger smoothly, and held it up to his lips. He breathed softly onto the cut. Darcy squirmed a little bit; his breath tickled. She almost didn't notice the surface of her fingertip knitting itself together, little strips of white crisscrossing over the small scarlet line in a healing dance, turning rapidly pink and finally smoothing out as if the skin had never been broken.
"That's just freaky," she said, making a face.
"That's nothing," Loki said, his eyes gleaming. He reached into his cloak as if to retrieve the flasks. He paused slightly. "You may want to step back a little bit," he warned Darcy. She backed away hurriedly. Giving her and Odin one final glance, Loki returned his attention to the vials of blood. He looked at them intently for a moment, as if admiring some work of art. His face turned serious after a few seconds. He removed the cork from the largest of the vials-the General's blood. Balancing the open bottle on his fingertips gingerly, he opened the second bottle with a small 'pop.' He wrinkled his nose slightly as he tipped the contents of the second vial into the first. He gently swirled the crimson liquid. It continued to churn in circles even as he stopped to open the last vial. His eyes darted to Darcy as he held the bottle on the cusp of the others. She smiled at him reassuringly. He gripped the flask and slowly let the blood pour out. He braced himself, half-expecting sparks or beams of light to pour out.
Nothing happened.
He frowned. "That's odd," he murmured.
Odin narrowed his eye. "Perhaps you must to apply the blood to your wound in order for a reaction to occur."
Loki's lips settled into a thin, anxious line. "Perhaps," he said cautiously. He held the bottle out to Darcy. "Would you hold this for a moment? And, er, don't drop it or do anything to it, please."
"What would happen if I did do something to it?" she asked, suppressing a grin.
"Remember that vortex of doom and despair?"
"Right," Darcy said sheepishly. "No touchy."
She held on to the flask with both hands as if her life depended on it...then realized that it was made of glass. She relaxed her fingers slightly. She looked up from the glass absently only to promptly look down at her hands again. Loki was unfastening his cloak and armor, peeling away the layers to expose his back-and, by extension, his chest. Not the time, she told herself sternly. No touchy. You promised.
He reached out to take the flask from her, eying her curiously. "What?" he asked.
Darcy handed him the vial, rolling her eyes. "Just hurry up and get your shirt back on," she snapped.
He seemed to be debating something in his mind, the way he was visibly trying not to smile. She saw his eyes flit to Odin in his peripheral vision, and he wiped the smile from his face. But his eyes kept glinting with mischief as he took the vial.
"I don't know if I can reach," he teased. "You might have to help me."
"Don't push your luck," she said flatly.
Odin raised an eyebrow sternly. "Son, as much as Frigga would love to see you married off, don't you think there are more important things to take care of right now?"
Darcy could have sworn she saw a flush spread across Loki's cheeks for a split second. But when she peered closer, it seemed to be a trick of the light. He cleared his throat slightly. "Yes, certainly."
Without further comment, he covered the mouth of the vial with his finger and tipped the bottle upside down. Grimacing, he let some of the blood spill onto his hand before stoppering the bottle again. He raised the bottle in a sarcastic toasting gesture to Darcy and Odin. Then he twisted around to apply the blood to his scar. The result was immediate.
Darcy raised a hand to her eyes without thinking, her eyes screwing up against the sudden gust of wind that roared through the pavilion. She peered through her fingers hesitantly, searching for Loki somewhere in the newly-formed halo of light. It was no use. She looked away from the blaze; strange colored shapes danced across her vision as she recovered from the intensity of the light.
But Odin remained standing upright, his eye fixed intently on the center of the aurora, showing no signs of disturbance. "It is working," he said over the deafening gale. "The transformation is almost through."
Darcy took his word for it, not daring to look at the light again for fear of being blinded. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the howling winds stopped. Darcy kept her hand in front of her face a minute longer, and did not turn around, just to be safe.
"Darcy..."
She felt little tendrils of her hair start whipping around her face again, and she turned farther around to brace herself on the garden wall against the renewed storm.
"My son, perhaps you could test out your newly-refound powers upon something in the garden besides Lady Darcy."
Hearing Odin's words, whe glanced at Loki through her outstretched fingers cautiously. Her breath was nearly stolen away.
If his eyes had been green before, they were practically the color of jade now. His whole person seemed to glow from within, every feature more clearly defined than it had been on Earth. His skin lost the faintly bluish cast it had obtained from being on Jotunheim. His hair was darker and thicker. Her eyes wandered downwards and stopped on his lower back.
"Your scar," she said, gesturing to him. "I thought that would go away with the spell."
He began to twist around to look at it, then his lips turned up in a devilish smile. He frowned as though deep in concentration for a moment...and he stepped away from himself.
Darcy couldn't believe what she was seeing. One Loki was standing perfectly still, looking thoughtful, and another was walking around behind the first with a grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He peered at his duplicate's lower back to where Darcy was pointing.
"That is curious," he said quietly, turning somewhat serious. He reached around to feel his own lower back absently, searching for a scar.
"Is 'curious' god-speak for 'really goddamn trippy?" Darcy asked incredulously.
His roguish smile returned. "You think this is a good trick," he said, "wait until you see—"
"Loki, my son, I hardly think now is the time for a demonstration of your entire repetoire of spells," Odin said. Darcy got the distinct impression that he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes.
Loki nodded. "Of course, All-Father. It wasn't my intent to show off." He glanced at Darcy. "But I would like to try a couple of my more rudimentary enchantments here," he said, "rather than on the battlefield. Imagine, for instance, if I discovered that I was unable to do a basic fire spell inthe middle of a hand-to-hand fight." He held his hand up; it promptly burst into green flames. He waved his fingers through the air and the fire died. "Or that I could not walk through an enemy or a battle axe." He stepped casually through a bronze statue on the rim of the pavillion, his body turning transluscent where the metal met his skin. He came back to the center of the circle, nodding his satisfaction. "Yes, I think my magic is restored enough to do most of my basic battle hexes and charms." He bowed to Odin. "With that fact established, I believe my brother and the Warriors are expecting me to assist in preparations for battle."
He turned to Darcy. She half-expected him to kiss her hand—if that was, in fact, what Asgardian etiquette dictate he do. Instead, he winked and waved his hand with a flourish. And then he left, floating through the staircase...and leaving a hedge of flowers growing at an alarming rate in his wake.
Darcy brushed away the little purple buds that threatened to wrap around her wrists and waist without—she was proud of herself—a single giggle or smile. She turned to Odin, smoothing any hint of amusement from her face. "What can I do to assist with the battle, sir?" she asked formally.
He grimaced. "Lady Darcy, if the battle we are about to engage in reached a point where you were forced to enter the fray, I doubt there is much that any of us could do except pray." He stroked his beard thougthfully. "Nevertheless, if you wish to participate in some effect, I suggest you speak to Freyja."
"The love goddess?" Darcy asked, astonished.
"She is as much a warrior as the Valkyries themselves," Odin said gravely. "Half of the mortal dead belong to her when they pass on. She is responsible for the defense of Asgard when the other warriors and myself are absent, although her defenses have never been required." He nodded. "Go, child. Find her."
Darcy scurried off without another word.