Magician of Asgard

by Snapegirlkmf

The story of Loki as you've never heard it before! In his own words, this is the truth behind the legendary magician and trickster god of Norse myth! This is an AU retelling of the Norse god Loki and does NOT follow most of the original myths so don't expect things to be the same as in the original stories.

5. Baldur's Bane

Baldur's Bane-or An Accidental Poisoning

Now, about the Baldur story . . .first off the whole thing about Baldur being the
Prince of Peace and all that stuff is a crock. There's only ever been one man who held the
right to that title and he wasn't living in Valhalla. His name was Jesus of Nazareth, better
known as Jesus Christ. I met him long ago in Galilee, but that's another tale.

The skald who wrote the "Death of Baldur" was a convert to Christianity and needed
a Christ-like figure for his saga to impress the king of Norway, who was also newly
converted. So he picked Baldur. Then, of course, he needed somebody to be the villain of
the piece and my name came to mind immediately. After all I was known as the god of liars,
thieves, and mischief, why not add murderer to the list? Hell, why not go all the way and just
call me Satan? Then all you need to complete the picture is Odin and Frigga as stand-ins for
Joseph and Mary and you've got the Holy Family of Norse mythology. Neat, huh?

If you study the poem closely, you'll notice there are a lot of parallels between it and
the Christ story. Baldur is born the son of Odin, known as the AllFather of the Norse
pantheon (the divine connection). Baldur is saintly, handsome, sweet, and everybody loves
him (like Jesus). He is later betrayed by one of his own, the blind Hod (Judas), who was
tempted into sin by Loki (alias Satan). Hod kills Baldur with a dart of mistletoe given to him
by Loki (here the metaphor stretches a bit thin). Baldur is dead and is universally mourned
by his followers (like Jesus' disciples). Then Baldur's spirit goes to Hel's realm (the Norse
afterworld) but eventually he gets resurrected and returns to spread his message throughout
the world. In only one instance does the poem differ from the Christian version. At the end
of the Baldur saga, Loki the villain is punished for his actions by being tied to a rock and
having a serpent drip venom into his eyes instead of being forgiven for his sins. I guess the
skald couldn't resist a little good old Norse vengeance, huh? Maybe he wasn't such a devout
follower of Christ after all.

If it weren't for the fact that my reputation got smeared past repair, I might have
found the skald's attempt to Christianize us hilarious. Instead it just pissed me off royally.
But I got even with him too eventually.

However, there is a grain or two of truth inside that story. Baldur really did get
poisoned and nearly died, but it was an accident, and yes I almost got blamed for it. But
before I tell you about it, let me introduce you to Odin's golden son, Baldur the Brave.

Baldur is the handsomest of all Odin's sons, hands down. He's tall, graceful, with
long golden hair and a short beard and perfectly even white teeth. His eyes are the color of
the sky and they're always dancing. His favorite color is blue and he always wears some
shade of it on his person. Like all of Odin's sons, he's a warrior. Unlike them, he can think
as well as swing a sword. He's also more cultured and diplomatic than his brothers. By that
I mean he uses a fork at the table, says please and thank you and doesn't hurt women and
children. But he's no saint and he wants world peace about as much as a dog wants a plague
of fleas.

I like Baldur, he's not such a bad guy for an Aesir lord. He's one of the few men
besides Odin that I can actually sit and have a decent conversation with. One that doesn't
involve swords, battle tactics, beer, and the best way to seduce the serving maid as she goes
by with the next round of drinks. The above list is common topics of conversation at the
feasts at Valhalla. Baldur likes music, poetry, and jokes (at least he always laughs at mine).
He has a wife, Nanna, who absolutely adores him and two little scamps, a boy and a girl,
Vali and Hilda. They're three and four and on the few occasions when Baldur's invited me
to dinner, I've entertained them with magic tricks and word games.

Normally I don't have much to do with kids in Asgard, most of them are scared of
me because of my magic, but not Baldur's. They run to meet me when they see me on
Heror, hanging onto my stirrups and begging for a ride. I always give them one, like most
youngsters they're horse crazy.

"Where's your father, Vali?" I ask as I pull up at the gate to the pasture.

"Out getting the sheep in from the fell," the little boy answers. He's the spitting
image of his father. "He won't be back for an hour."

I swing him down to the ground. "An hour, huh?"

"Yeah. So you've got time to tell us a story, Loki."

"A story! A story!" yells Hilda, bouncing up and down on my saddle. I scoop her up
and dismount before she makes Heror nervous with her jumping.

"What kind of story?"

"One with lots of blood and ghosts in it," Vali grins. "Like the one you told us last
time about the man who got his head chopped off and carried it under his arm. Or the one
where the banshee scares all the travelers to death with her scream."

"Blood and ghosts? Are you two sure you're normal children?" I tease. "Because
normal kids are scared of things like blood and ghosts."

"Course we're normal kids," sniffs Hilda. "I wanna hear the one about the witch
who shoves little kids in her oven and cooks 'em for dinner."

"Witches and ovens? I don't think you're normal kids at all. I think you're giant kids
that were switched with Baldur's real kids. Because only giant kids like stories about things
like that."

"Are not!" Vali cries. "I'm too little to be a giant kid."

"Yeah. And I'm too pretty," states his sister, which is true.

"You sure about that?" I ask. "Maybe I'd better put you two to a test. If you're giant
kids and not Aesir ones you'll have fangs instead of teeth. Now let's see if you've got fangs,
Hilda." I peer into her mouth. "Hmmm. Looks normal to me. Okay, guess you're Baldur's
daughter after all." I grin, patting her on the head. "Your turn, Vali. What's this? It looks
like a pointed tooth. Oh no! Hilda, I think your brother's becoming a giant."

"What can we do, Loki?" she cries, playing along.

"There's only one thing to do to stop him from becoming a giant," I say dramatically.
"And that's to give him some magic candy." I pluck several pieces of molasses candy from
out of the air with a flourish. "Here you go, Vali. Eat the candy and your giant tooth will
be gone."

Then he gobbles the candy. I give some to Hilda too. "There! Now I'm better. Can
you tell us a story now, Loki? Please?"

"Later I'll tell you a tale scary enough to shiver your bones and make your hair fall
out," I promise, tweaking his nose. "But I don't have time now. Your father'll be back and
then it'll be time for dinner."

"But we have time for a game of growling bear!" cries Hilda. "That doesn't take
long."

"Yes! Let's play growling bear!" screams Vali. "And this time I get to be the
hunter."

"No, me!" his sister says.

"No fair. You were the hunter last time, right Loki? It's my turn now," Vali says
firmly. "Let me get my spear." He runs to grab a toy spear from a box near the front porch.

I unlatch the pasture gate and unsaddle Heror, letting him inside to graze with
Baldur's horse. Then I walk to the middle of the yard.

Vali comes to stand before me with his little wooden spear and Hilda stands next to
him, grinning. "We're ready!" they chant.

Then I transform myself into a black bear. Not a full size one, but one about as big
as a pony. But plenty big to a couple of four-year-olds. I charge across the yard, growling
horribly.

Hilda and Vali scatter, screaming and giggling. "Get him, Vali!" the little girl
shrieks. "Poke him in the behind."

Vali, the bear hunter, tries to poke me with his spear but I'm too quick. I stand up
on my hind legs and snarl, swinging at the air, pretending to attack the boy.

Hilda is jumping up and down, yelling like a banshee. "Poke out his eyes! Hit him
in the gizzard!" Bloodthirsty little brat, isn't she? She'll probably become a Valkyrie for
sure.

Vali thrusts at me with the stick, howling a war cry.

"Land sakes! What's going on out there?" That's Nanna.

"Nothing, Ma!" Vali yells back.

"We're just playing bear with Loki, Ma!" Hilda giggles.

"Oh. Mind you come in and wash your face and hands after, you hear? That means
you too, Master Mischief!"

"Yes, Mother," I growl back, making the children burst out laughing. They love it
when I sass their mother.

"I'll Mother you all right, you wretch!" Nanna says, coming out of the house to wave
a broom threateningly about my head. She's actually quite lovely, with gair the color of summer wheat and eyes as blue

I duck, backing away far enough to stand up on my back legs. "Why Mother, don't
you love me any more?" I whine like a little boy.

"Love a big brute like you?" Nanna snorts, but she's smiling.

"Oh, but I love you!" I wail. "Let me give you a hug, please!"

"Loki, don't you dare . . ." Nanna gasps, backing away.

I walk forward on my hind legs, my paws outstretched. "Please, Mother!" I sob,
following her around the yard until I corner her against the gate and grab her in my bear
paws, hugging her against me.

"Ugh! Loki, stop it."

Then I lean my muzzle down and begin to lick her cheek. She struggles, yelling and
laughing. "Wretch! Don't you dare put your dirty tongue on my cheek."

"How about this?" I laugh, changing back into a man and planting a great big kiss
on her cheek. "Is that better, Mother dear?"

"Scamp!" she laughs. "Let me go, the children are watching."

I step back, releasing her. "Hey, kids! Don't tell your father that your mother got
kissed by a bear, all right?" Then I wink at them.

"Sure!" they chorus.

Just then Baldur comes through the back gate with the sheep. They run screaming
to him. "Guess what, Pa? Ma got kissed by a bear!"

He laughs and puts them on his shoulders. "She did, did she? I'll bet it was a
scrawny little one." He winks at them. "What's for supper, Nanna?"

"Nothing. The bear ate it all," she says, straightfaced.

"What?" Baldur bellows. "Loki, you damn pig. I'm starving!"

"So was I." I say. Baldur glares at me. "Just kidding. It's still on the table."

"We fooled you, Pa!" the kids sing, laughing like fiends.

"Guess so." Baldur laughs. "C'mon, Loki. Let's eat before it gets cold."

That time supper was lamb stew and crusty hot bread with honey and butter.

I enjoyed many other suppers with Baldur and his family. And yet the night Baldur
was poisoned by mistake, suspicion fell on me. Now I ask you, why in hell would I poison
a man I liked and respected, especially one with a family that I also liked? I was ten times
more likely to poison Heimdall than Baldur, if you want me to be honest.

Baldur's protected against most harmful things thanks to Frigga, who cast a spell of
protection over him when he was a baby. He was always her favorite, and she didn't want
anything bad to happen to him. She wanted him to be proof against poisons too, but that
spell was beyond her. So she came to me, and I told her I could make a spell that would
neutralize most poisons but not all.

"You can't protect him against everything, Frigga," I told her. "It's just not possible,
even with magic. He's a kid, and kids get hurt. That's part of growing up."

"I know, but he's my baby. Oh, you wouldn't understand, Loki, you're not a parent."
Frigga sighed.

"Look. I'll do my best, but there's no way I can make a spell that'll be foolproof
against all the poisons there are. But I'll proof him against the major ones, like snake
venom, arsenic, hemlock, and so forth."

"I guess that'll have to do."

My spell should have been enough to protect Baldur from an assassin, but even my
magic wasn't powerful enough to defeat chance. And it was black chance that led Baldur's
blind brother Hod to mistake the leaf of mistletoe for spiky mint. One was used to flavor
mulled wine, the other was poisonous if ingested.

Hod had a garden that he grew herbs in. The herbs were arranged in a grid which he
had memorized, so he knew exactly where everything was by smell and touch. Unknown
to him, a stray mistletoe seed had gotten in among the mint plants and took root, growing
upon the stake next to the mint plants. When Hod plucked it, it smelled
like it too, since the mint had rubbed off on it and it had mint growing all over it so he didn't feel the spiky leaves. He ground it up with the other herbs and never realized anything.

Baldur's favorite drink was spiced wine and Hod made the best spiced wine in
Valhalla. So no one thought it strange that he would make his brother a cup for dinner.
He'd done it countless times and no one bothered to watch him. He mixed the wine, heated
it, and added the spices by touch, including that deadly mistletoe. Then he served it to
Baldur.

Luckily Baldur had eaten heartily before he drank the wine, otherwise the poison
would have gone through his system like wildfire and probably killed him outright. But it
had to be absorbed slowly, along with the food, and that saved him.

Now mistletoe, when it's ingested, constricts the breathing passages and slows down
the heart. It makes you sleepy and achy, but otherwise it doesn't hurt. So Baldur felt a little
sick and tired and said he was going to lie down after dinner.

No one thought anything of this except his mother, who was overprotective of him,
as I've mentioned. She came in to check on him after about fifteen minutes. And found him
gasping for air, his eyes yellow as a cat's, for that's how the poison expresses itself in the
early stages.

She began to scream, utterly hysterical. "My baby's dying! Help!"

Odin came in followed by Thor, Sif, and Sigyn.

"What's wrong with him, Mother? Is it the plague?" Thor whimpered.

"Of course not!" Frigga snapped. "He can't get the plague, he's immortal."

"Then what's wrong with him?" Sif wondered.

"He's been poisoned," Odin stated.

"Poisoned!" Frigga screamed. "But who'd poison my poor baby?"

"Loki probably would," Thor growled. "He knows more about herbs than any of us
here. Why don't you ask him?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Sigyn snapped. "Loki would never poison Baldur. He wasn't
even here tonight! But he's the only one who will know what kind of poison this is and how
to treat it. I'll go and fetch him."

When I arrived at Valhalla I got several nasty looks, but I ignored them. My friend's
life hung in the balance. Frigga was still hovering over her son, wringing her hands and
sobbing, utterly beside herself.

I had no time to deal with her histrionics. "Frigga!" I snapped, shaking her hard.
"Quit that crying and listen to me. What did Baldur have to drink or eat? It's
important."

"I-I don't know! I can't remember. Oh please, Loki, save him."

"I can't unless you help me. Now think, dammit. What did you have for dinner?"

"Roasted chicken and pig with honey and vegetables. But everyone ate it and no one
got sick."

"What else? Did he have anything to drink?"

"Just some mead. And spiced wine. But Hod makes that, surely it couldn't be that."

"When did he say he felt sick? Before or after dinner?"

"After. He said he felt tired and achy and was going to lie down. Then I came in and
found him like this!" she began to cry again.

Frowning, I checked his pulse and peered at his eyelids. Then I smelled his breath.
Mistletoe leaves a distinct odor. I swore softly. "Frigga, what was in that spiced wine?
What kinds of herbs?"

"The usual kind. Some cinnamon, mint, and nutmeg. Why?"

"Because someone put mistletoe in there and Baldur drank it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now listen very closely. I'm going to cast a spell on him that'll open up his
lungs and his throat so he can breathe easier. After that I need to go back to my house and
make up two potions. I need you to stay here and watch him, don't touch him, don't try to
wake him up, just watch him."

"Will your potions stop the poison?"

"They should," I answered honestly. In truth I didn't know. A lot of it depended on
Baldur, how much mistletoe he'd ingested, and how much time had gone by afterwards. I
turned to where the comatose immortal lay and placed my hands over his chest, whispering,
"Breathe."

I poured my power into him, clearing his lungs and his trachea. He gasped and
breathed normally. "All right. Now for the hard part," I muttered and transported myself
to my laboratory.

I mixed four drafts of each potion, packed it all in my satchel, then took some
wakeflower root as well, which is like a smelling salt.

I told Frigga to have someone fetch a basin, a pitcher of water, a cup, and towels.
Then I checked on my patient. He was still out, his eyeballs yellow, but his breathing was
better. I waved the wakeflower root under his nose. He sneezed. "Baldur!" I called softly.
"Time to wake up."

"Go 'way," he mumbled, brushing at his nose.

"Wake up!" I ordered, shoving the root under his nose.

He blinked at me groggily, now fully awake. "Loki? What is it?"

"Baldur, listen. You've been poisoned. I'm trying to help you, so just do what I say.
I'm going to give you two potions. The first one's a blood purifier, it's going to give you a
fever and make you sweat. The second's going to make you puke your guts up. Now don't
fight me, just drink."

"All right," he said woozily.

I held the first potion to his lips. He swallowed it obediently.

I waited a minute. It worked quickly. His face flushed and sweat began to pour
down his cheeks. It was tinged yellow. "Hot." Baldur panted.

"Yeah, but that's good." I soothed him. "Okay. Open up." I fed him the second one.
Then I grabbed the basin.

He puked up everything he'd eaten. Frigga held his head, stroking his hair. When
he'd finished, I wiped his face with the towel and gave him water. He was still sweating,
though his color was pale now from vomiting. But his eyes were still yellow, though lighter
than before.

"Now what?" Frigga asked.

"Now we wait a bit." I said. "Then we do it again."

"Again?" Baldur said in dismay.

"I'm afraid so." I patted his shoulder. "Here. Let's get that tunic off."

I stripped him down and bathed him with a wet cloth over his protests. The water
was yellow as I wrung it out. I waited fifteen minutes, then re-administered the potions.
After the second time his color was nearly back to normal and you could see the whites of
his eyes.

"How do you feel now? Can you breathe okay?"

"Yeah. But my stomach hurts," he grumbled.

"Sorry. It can't be helped." I glanced at Frigga. "This is working. His body's being
cleansed of the poison. Two more times should finish it. Get me some bread. And more
water."

Baldur started to complain again, saying he wasn't going to take any more of my
medicine. I threatened to hold his nose and pour it down his throat. "You want to die, you
stupid ass?" I growled. "If you were mortal you'd be dead and in the ground by now. So
just shut up and do as you're told."

Frigga returned with the bread and the water. I gave Baldur the bread to eat, because
the bread would act like a sponge and absorb any of the remaining traces of poison in his
stomach. It would also give him something to throw up.

I wiped him down again. An hour passed. I dosed him a third time. He showed
marked improvement. By the fourth time his eyes were back to normal and so was his
sweat. "You're going to be okay now," I said and then I grinned.

"You sure about that? Because I feel awful."

"I'm sure," I reassured him, running a quick health check on him with my magic.
The poison was gone. Frigga burst into tears and Baldur turned to hug her.

"Drink plenty of water. And get some rest," I instructed. "You should be back to
your old self by tomorrow." I yawned. I was exhausted.

"Thanks, Loki." Baldur began awkwardly. "I owe you one."

"Forget it. But you're welcome anyhow. Good night."

I was fuzzy-headed, so I couldn't risk a straight transport back home. I would have
to walk. I gathered up my empty bottles and stuffed them in my satchel. I wanted to study
that wine cup, but my eyes were shutting.

I walked back down to the mead hall. Several of the warriors were still there, getting
drunk and discussing Baldur's condition. They looked up as I came into the room.

"How is he?" Odin asked quickly, concern in his eye.
"He'll recover. But it was a close thing."

There was a collective sigh of relief.
"Can I go see him?" Odin asked me.

"Yeah, just don't stay too long. He needs his rest."

My brother departed, undisguised relief shining on his face. Then someone said,
"What kind of poison was it? I heard it was mistletoe."

"It was. He drank it with his wine." I said grimly.

"What?" stammered Hod. "But . . .that can't be. I made it myself. I'd never harm
Baldur."

I walked over to where Baldur's cup sat on the table. For once I thanked the fact that
the warriors were such pigs, because it meant the servants hadn't cleared away all the dirty
dishes. I sniffed the dregs of the wine. Sure enough, there was the acrid stench of mistletoe
in it.

"Whether you intended to or not, Hod, the proof's right here," I said icily. "There's
bits of mistletoe mixed in here, down at the bottom of the glass."

Hod began to weep, saying he didn't do it.

I walked up to him. "Then how did the mistletoe get in there? Did anyone else touch
this cup besides you?"

"No! But I didn't put it there. I picked the herbs myself. I put in mint and cloves
same as I always do." Hod blubbered. "You've got to believe me."

"Leave him alone, Loki," Thor growled. "You've upset him enough for one night.
How do you know for sure that's what was in that cup?"

"Because I can smell it, idiot!"

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you know so much about it cause you put it in there!" the Thunder
God accused.

I gaped at him. "Don't be stupid. What reason would I have to poison Baldur?"

"Maybe cause you wanted his wife. We all know how you visit her and play games
with her and the children," Thor said. He'd gotten that information from Hugin and Munin,
Odin's gossipy ravens.

"So what? That doesn't mean I'd kill Baldur."

"It does if you want Nanna for yourself. Right, fellows?"

I gazed around at the others in the hall. Not one would meet my eye. In fact some
of them were nodding and agreeing with the big lummox. I couldn't believe my ears. Were
they all insane?

"Thor's right," Hod babbled. "If I didn't put the mistletoe in the cup, then Loki must
have!"

I remained with my mouth open, too shocked to even defend myself.

"Shut up, you blind oaf!" Sigyn came to my rescue. "Loki has no need to poison
anyone. All he needs to do is blast them with magic." She meant well, but her comment
only added more fuel to the fire they were building under me.

"How do we know he didn't do that?" Thor demanded. "Maybe he cursed Baldur
instead."

More mutterings followed.

My head throbbed. I couldn't deal with this now. I wanted to sleep for a year.

"You stupid bastard," came a new voice from the doorway. Heads turned all over
the hall. It was Baldur. He was leaning against the doorjamb, shirtless, wearing a pair of
breeches and barefoot. His hair was still damp with sweat. He looked haggard, but he was
clear-eyed. And he was glaring at his brother. "If I wasn't half-dead still I'd come over
there and punch some sense into your skull. Loki saved my life and you think he poisoned
me?"

"Well, he wanted Nanna . . ." Thor began.

"Then why by all the hells didn't he just let me die?" Baldur scowled. "All he had
to do was to say he couldn't cure me and that would have been that. But he didn't. He
stayed with me all night and he saved my life. He's no more guilty of poisoning me than I
am. Get that through that thick head of yours, big brother. And you too, Hod. Because if
you didn't put the poison in there on purpose it must have been by accident. In which case,
I forgive you. Now all of you idiots shut up and go home, I need my sleep."

Then he turned and walked back up the passage to his bedroom.

"Thank you, Baldur," I murmured. Then I walked out of the mead hall.

Everyone avoided my eyes, ashamed. But no one apologized. Not that I ever
expected them to. For despite Baldur's defense of me, I still was little better than an outcast,
tolerated because of my magic and Odin's oath. I wondered bitterly if it would ever change.
Probably not.

I knew that if they had been able to pin Baldur's poisoning on me, they would have,
no matter what actually happened. Disgusted with all of them, I trudged home. I would
return tomorrow to check on Baldur, but after that, they'd be lucky if they saw me in a year.
Which didn't necessarily mean I wouldn't go up to the hall to borrow things from time to
time. I was the Master Thief, after all, and I went where I would and no door or lock could
keep me out. Maybe it was time I reminded those louts that, they tended to forget just who
they were dealing with. And if I was going to get blamed for something, it ought to be for
something I'd actually done, I thought angrily. We'd see who got the last laugh here.

I spent the next seven months or so keeping my hands busy snitching various objects
from those who'd accused me and playing around with my magic and tending to my animals.
Baldur stopped by twice to visit, each time bringing me a gift to thank me for saving him,
even though I told him it wasn't necessary. He told me they'd found the mistletoe among
Hod's mint plant and therefore I was cleared of suspicion. I told him it didn't matter anyway,
people had always been quick to think the worst of me. Baldur then said it wasn't my fault
most of my relatives were dumber than sheep. He was the most decent member of my family
except for Sigyn. He told me I had an open invitation to dinner at his house whenever I got
sick of my own or Ava's cooking.

Which was where things stood that fateful morning when I went out to the barn and
returned to find a basket with a baby on my porch.

So how did you like the way this turned out?