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.

9. The Apprentice

The Apprentice

I considered going in wolf shape, but in my current mood I'd be tempted to bite one
of the idiots if I happened to see them, especially that whelp Grim. Then too, Heror needed
the exercise, and I needed time to let my temper cool.

Heror welcomed the chance to stretch his legs and we made good time to the mead
hall. It was still quite early in the morning, no one was awake except the servants, who were
sweeping and mopping up the hall. I wrinkled my nose at the odor of spilled beer, grease,
dog, and vomit. Jorgmunder's scales, but the place needed a good scrubbing and airing out.

It smelled fouler than an outhouse. I thanked the stars I didn't have to live here. Odin was
going to have a fit when he saw what had been going on in his absence, I thought with a
wicked gleam in my eye. I'd love to be a fly on the wall when he got back and told off Thor
for wrecking his palace like this.

The servants gave me curious looks when I entered the hall, but none of them asked
my business. Living with Thor they probably figured they were safer if they minded their
own business. I couldn't help but notice that the servants were all men and boys now, no
women remained. I assumed they'd all gone with Frigga to her palace in the country. The
only women here now were the prostitutes and mistresses of the warriors. And they, of
course, were not up and about, but still abed. Like the rest of the lazy slobs.

I scanned the hall, looking for Thor's distinctive brass hair and beard. From what
Leif had said, he'd been here not too long ago, eating breakfast. I beckoned a passing boy
carrying a pail of ashes, he approached me hesitantly. "Do you know where I can find the
Regent?"

"I think he went back to bed, sir. Something with breakfast didn't, uh, agree with
him. Least that's what I heard."

"Oh. Thanks."

He bowed and scurried off. Something didn't agree with him indeed, I thought,
struggling to keep from laughing. In other words, he'd been too pissed off or too hung over
to eat and had decided to go back to bed and sleep it off. I probably should have waited till
noon, he'd have been awake then.

But I chose not to because he'd be easier to convince if he were sleepy and befuddled
from drink. Not that I couldn't talk rings around him in any case, but I didn't feel up to a
prolonged debate. I figured he would have taken over Odin's suite of rooms, since they were
the biggest and grandest.

Sure enough, there were two guards on duty before the ornate gold double doors as
well as a skinny man with a wispy beard and shifty eyes wearing the royal livery. That was
Rhinegold, Thor's personal secretary, a sneaky fellow that had always reminded me of a
ferret. Rhinegold was wearing a rich purple tunic bordered with gold and crimson breeches
and fine new boots. He also had on a thick gold chain with a huge ruby and an earring to
match. His belt was studded with garnets.

Must be dipping into the treasury, he could never afford such finery on his secretary's
pay. "Nice outfit, Rhinegold. Thor must have raised your salary," I greeted the oily little
man. "Do me a favor and announce me to the Regent."

Rhinegold gave me a supercilious glance, noting my worn clothing, as I'd not taken
time to change before coming here. "The Regent's resting, Loki. He's given me orders that
he's not to be disturbed. Come back later, otherwise you can make an appointment."

His officious tone and hidden contempt grated on my already simmering nerves.
"Didn't you hear what I said, Rhinegold?" I asked, my voice soft but hinting at danger
lurking just below the surface. "I need to speak to the Regent now. Not later, not tomorrow,
now."

Rhinegold glared at me. "Maybe you didn't understand me, Loki. Regent Thor is
indisposed and—"

"That's sir or Master Magician to the likes of you, Rhinegold," I said icily, baring
my teeth in a warning grin. "You forget whom you're speaking to, secretary. I don't have
time to stand here arguing with a witless peacock cheeping meaningless platitudes. Now
either you go and announce me or I'm going in there myself and I don't care if Thor's
asleep, puking, or entertaining a woman. Got me? Well, what's it going to be?"

Rhinegold looked as if he were strangling. "You'd not dare . . .!"

"Watch me." I stepped around his writing table and started towards the doors.

"Guards!" Rhinegold cried. "Don't let him in there."

The guards shifted uneasily, trying to determine if they should obey the little weasel.

"Oh, by all means, boys, try and prevent me," I drawled. "The hall could use a few
more stone statues or lizards running about." I twitched my fingers, and sparks danced from
them to fall on the floor.

"He's bluffing!" Rhinegold sneered. "He'd never dare to turn you into anything.
He's all talk and no action."

"Oh, really?" I hissed, then I spun about and leveled a finger at the secretary. "You
have two seconds to admit me Rhinegold, after that you're going to be a mouse and I'm
going to blow the damn door off its hinges. Decide!" I roared, my eyes blazing. "One!"

"You don't frighten me," the idiot laughed. "You'd never . . ." the rest of his
sentence was cut off as I snarled a word and a tiny white mouse appeared on the floor behind
the writing desk.

"Think again." I turned to the guards. "Do you need a demonstration too?"

"No, sir!" they chorused, staring with horror and fear at Rhinegold the mouse.

"Good. Open the door."

One of them pushed open the door and I went on inside the suite.

"What an ass," I heard one of the guards say as they shut the door. "Don't he know
better than to mess with a wizard thataway?"

"Now he do," chuckled his friend.

I wrinkled my nose as the acrid stench of sweat and dirty laundry hit me. The place
smelled like a midden. Dirty clothes were all over the place, on the floor, the chairs, even
the couch. The remains of lunch of whatever was still sitting on the table, half-eaten and
rancid. Flies buzzed around the dregs of ale in a tankard.

The carpet in the sitting room was stained with beer and gravy or mud, I couldn't
decide which. But there was a roaring fire in the hearth and the oil lamps were lit. A big
wolf hound was lying in front of the fire, gnawing on a bone. It glanced up, growled half-
heartedly at me, then whimpered when I glared it down. Cringing, it retreated to a corner
with its bone.

"Smart puppy," I said, then continued onward to the bedroom door.

I tried the knob, to my surprise it wasn't locked and opened easily.

I gave the door a shove, and peered inside the room. It was dimly lit by another fire
and a sputtering lamp. Heavy velvet drapes were covering the windows and in the king-
sized bed Thor slumbered like some great beast, snoring fit to wake the dead.

I stalked soft-footed over to the bed and yanked off the covers.

Thor remained oblivious, still shrouded in wine-soaked dreams. There was a squeal,
and a woman's head popped up from the other side of the bed.

"Hey! What's the big idea?"

She had dyed her hair a shade of gold that belonged on a coin, not a person, and she
was buxom and well-rounded, as well as stark naked.

"Get out. Your services aren't needed any longer." I ordered.

"Who the hell are you to give me orders?" she blustered, grabbing up what looked
like a scrap of cloth and tugging it over her head. It was actually a dress, but one so low cut
it was like wearing almost nothing.

"The name's Loki, madam. Master Magician of Asgard. Surely you've heard of
me?" I growled, giving her a look that could have roasted her.

"Oh!" she gasped. "All right. I'll go."

She scrambled out of the bed and grabbed her shoes then was out the door before I
could blink.

"Won't Sif be delighted to learn what you've been up to, eh, Thor?" I muttered, then
walked over to the curtains and gave them a good yank. Sunlight spilled into the room,
making the wine colored bedspread shimmer as if it had caught fire. I could almost wish it
had.

An empty wine jug and two cups were on the floor. Next to them was Mjolnir,
Thor's magical hammer. Thor stirred, groaning.

"Rise and shine, Thor!" I yelled. "You're burning daylight." Then I let out a crow
like a rooster.

The Thunder God shot up from the bed, eyes wild. "What the bloody hell is that?"
he bellowed.

"Good morning, Thor." I said pleasantly.

"Loki! I should have known." Thor spat. Then he glanced about. "Where's . . .?"

"She left. Had another client waiting," I informed him.

"Oh." Then he coughed, looking uneasy. "What do you want? I thought I gave
Rhinegold orders that I wasn't to be disturbed."

"I didn't feel like waiting. I need to discuss a contract with you."

"Now? Blood and ashes, magician!" he groaned and rubbed his temples. "Oh, my
head!"

"Headache?" I inquired silkily. "You poor thing. I could mix you up a potion . . .
if you agreed to do something for me, that is?"

"What?" Thor asked blearily, squinting at the sunlight.

"I want to buy a thrall from you. He's a young one, not properly broken in yet. He's
a Vanir, name's Leif."

"Vanir? We don't have any new Vanir servants . . ." he yawned, his brow beetling
as he attempted to recall something other than the names of various kinds of ale. Then I saw
a glimmer of recognition come into his pig like eyes. "Oh, you mean that clumsy little ass
who spilled my breakfast this morning? Good for nothing little prick! I taught him a good
lesson, I did!" he chortled.

"I know. I saw the results of your 'lesson' this morning." I said coldly. "Now how
much do you want for him?"

"Why would you want him anyhow? The only way you'll get any work from him is
to take a strap to him. All those Vanir are lazy, think they're too good to serve us Aesir."

"What do you care?" I countered. "From what you said, you'd be well rid of him."

"Probably. My father purchased his bond, not me, and he never did know how to
pick out thralls. He's too soft on 'em. Lets them put on airs, thinking that they counted for
something besides an extra pair of hands or a back."

"You've got plenty of servants. You'll never miss this one." I persuaded, longing
to beat the spit out of the smug bastard. Maybe if you treated them decently, they'd be more
inclined to work well, I wanted to scream, but I knew if I let on how much I wanted Leif,
he'd never sell him to me.

"True. He's scrawny, a prissy Vanir fop."

"Yes. But he's strong enough for what I need him for."

Thor winced as a shaft of sunlight struck him right in the face. "Close the damn
drapes! My head feels like an anvil as it is."

I slid the drapes partially closed. "Better? Good. Why don't we make a trade? I'll
give you a gallon of my headache potion for his bond. I'm sure you could use it after last
night. And if you, uh, get sick again, why then you'll have it right here and won't have to
send anyone to me to get more. That's worth more to you than a skinny uppity Vanir boy,
right?"

"Umm . . .I don't know." Thor frowned.

"I'll throw in a silver piece too. And I won't tell Sif about the woman you were
entertaining in your bed last night," I added, playing my trump card.

"It's a deal!" Thor agreed, hastily, his eyes widening in alarm at the mere thought of
his volatile sword-wielding wife finding out he'd been sleeping around.

"Sign here," I produced Leif's indenture, which I'd filched from his breeches pocket.
I hastily wrote a codicil that said that Thor was selling his bond to me for a promise and a
silver piece and a gallon of my famous headache potion. Then I signed it and gave the pen
to him.

He scribbled his name then said, "Now can I have that potion, Loki? Please?"

I snapped my fingers and a huge earthenware jug appeared on the table. "Take two
spoonfuls and mix it in tea. And drink it right away." I laid a silver piece on the table.

"Was that all you wanted?"

"Yes. Goodbye."

I started toward the door.

"Rhinegold! I need some tea!" came Thor's shout. Then I heard him moan and begin
to retch as his stomach protested his screaming in its current state.

I closed the door hurriedly and bit back a grin. Serves him right. That had been
easier than I'd thought.

I slipped out the double doors.

Rhinegold was still sitting in front of the writing desk. He raced over to me and sat
up, imploring me with his beady eyes.

"You going to behave yourself from now on?" I asked sternly.

The mouse nodded, nose twitching.

"Rhinegold!"

"Sounds like he's in a nasty mood," I said conversationally.

Rhinegold put his little pink paws together, as if begging.

I sighed. Then I whispered, "Revesario!"

There was a flash then Rhinegold stood before me. "Better get in there, Your
Mouseness. He wants tea." I informed the trembling secretary. "Oh, and you might want
to send for a mop and a bucket . . ."

Rhinegold bowed. "Yes, Master! Whatever you say, sir." He scurried inside the
doors, the guards snickering behind his back.

I found Heror awaiting me in the courtyard. "Well?" he asked. "How did it go?"

"I've got myself a new apprentice," I answered, grinning. "Come on, let's get home.
This place is making me nauseous."

Heror whickered agreement, then tossed his head and broke into a gallop, running
like the wind all the way back to the valley. I clung to his back, laughing in delight. I've
always loved riding a fast horse.

When I arrived home, I found that Belle had tea and porridge and sausage waiting.
Leif was still asleep, as I had known he would be.

"Well? What did Thor say?" Belle asked.

I told her and we had a good laugh over how easily I had tricked him into trading Leif
for a pittance of what Odin had originally paid for his services.

"I'm so glad you got him away from there, Father. They had no right to torment him
so. I don't think he'd have lasted a week there. If they didn't beat him to death he might
have drowned himself or something."

I agreed with her assessment. There was something innocent and unworldly about
the young man. He'd been the sheltered younger son of a Vanir lord, from what he'd said,
unused to poverty and physical abuse. Belle was right. A week up at the mead hall being
the butt of their cruel pranks and whims would have finished him. He wasn't cut out to
endure hardship, they'd have broken him eventually.

My daughter laughed even harder when I told her how I'd changed the supercilious
Rhinegold into a mouse. "And Thor had the nerve to say that Leif was insolent. That's the
pot calling the kettle black, since Rhinegold's ten times as insolent."

"Only to me, I think, since I'm not really an Aesir lord. They tolerate me because
of my blood oath, but I've never truly belonged there."

"Who'd want to? Not me! I'm glad you're not truly one of them, Father. The only
decent ones in the lot are Uncle Odin and Baldur. The rest of them are nothing but bullies
and spoiled little boys who need a good thrashing."

"Even if one of them was your father, child?" I found myself blurting, to my
everlasting astonishment. That question had weighed heavily on my mind, ever since Grim
had revealed to her that she was not my daughter by blood. I had often wondered if she
thought about her absent parents, but had never dared to ask. Until now, that is.

"That doesn't matter," she sniffed dismissively. "Just because he sired me doesn't
mean we're kin. You're my real father, and always will be."

"Was that why you never asked me about your parents?"

She nodded. "Once I asked Nanna about where I came from and she told me the
story, how you found me on the porch in a basket. She said I was lucky, because nobody
could have loved me or cared for me like you did. Especially not my real parents. At first
I was sad, but then I thought it over and realized she was right. I didn't need them, whoever
they were. I had you and you were all I needed. I'm proud to be your daughter, Father."
Then she reached out and hugged me.

I hugged her back, unable to speak for a moment. At last I said, "I love you, Belle,"
and left it at that. She would know without my telling her how much her words meant to
me, she was an intuitive child. At least I need never fear her leaving me to go and search
for her elusive parents. She had made her choice long ago and she had chosen me. I was
profoundly humbled and touched.

"Well." I said briskly, before I let my emotions run away with me. "It would seem
I've got a new apprentice, provided he agrees to stay here and let me teach him."

"Then he does have Talent? I thought so, but he was so badly hurt I wasn't sure.
What kind of mage is he, can you tell?"

"Quite a strong one. I'm surprised he wasn't apprenticed before now, though
perhaps they couldn't afford to pay the fees. Most mage teachers charge quite a lot of
money for their services, especially in Vanaheim, where mages are a penny a dozen. I think
he may have an affinity for fire and maybe a bit of air or earth, I'll know more when he
wakes up and I can study his aura closely, when it's not clouded with sleep drugs and pain.
Who knows? You might even have a rival, my dear."

"I look forward to it," she laughed, for Belle has always loved a challenge.
Now all that remained was for me to inform the young man of his new and improved
circumstances.

I visited Leif soon after nightfall, knowing the sleeping draught I'd given him would
be wearing off by then. So would the numbing comfrey salve. He was stirring as I entered
the room, blinking sleepily at me from large walnut-colored eyes.

"Hello, Leif," I greeted, lighting the lamps with a twitch of my fingers. That small
bit of fire magic came as easy to me as breathing. "Feeling better after your nap?"

"I . . .yes, thank you." He rubbed his eyes, then winced. "Though I'm still a bit stiff
and sore."

"That's to be expected. You won't be able to heal from the damage done to you in
an afternoon, even with your immortal blood. Are you hungry? I think you should eat a little
something. Bread, maybe some of my Nis Ava's lamb stew." I suggested.

"You have a Nis?" his eyes crinkled. "We had one at home too. Didn't think you
Aesir had non-human servants."

"Those at Valhalla don't because they don't know how to treat one. I, on the other
hand, respect and like Ava and she does the same for me. She has been my companion for
many years, several centuries in fact. Shall I tell her to bring you up a plate of stew and
some bread? She makes the best bread in Asgard. In my opinion, that is."

"Yes, I'd like that." he smiled shyly at me, and I quickly left the room to summon
Ava to me and tell her our guest wanted some food.

"Of course, Master Loki. I'll be up with it directly. Though I'd say he'll be more
than a guest before long."

"Hush, you interfering old gossip," I scolded her gently. "I haven't yet told him he's
to be my apprentice. If he agrees," I added quickly, for I would have no student here unless
it was of his own free will.

"D'you really think he won't?" Ava asked. "What's he got to go back to up there at
the hall but more beatings and such? He'd be a fool if he turned you down, and I don't think
he's that. Young, but not stupid." Then she was gone in a twinkling of golden motes. Like
most fae creatures, she could appear and disappear at will.

I returned to my would-be apprentice. He was lying on his side, he'd probably gotten
out of bed to relieve himself and was now trying out different positions, though I could tell
he was in some discomfort from this one.

"Your dinner will be up shortly," I announced, then went to get the small pot of salve
I had left on the nightstand. "You'll need more of this, I'd wager." I motioned for him to
lie on his stomach and he obeyed, flushing slightly.

"Can't you just use magic to heal me?" he grumbled as I began to apply the salve.
"You're supposed to be this great magician."

"Even great magicians have limits, boy," I said, amused. "My magic doesn't run to
healing much more than bruises and small cuts. But there are other ways to heal. I prefer
to use herbal remedies infused with a bit of magic for potency, similar to what the mortal
doctors in Midgard use. They work quite well. This salve is one of them."

"You've been down to Midgard then?" he asked, and I could hear the curiosity and
wonder in his voice.

"Many times. I even lived there for a brief time, back during what the mortals call
the Roman Empire. But that was before my daughter came along, of course. I haven't been
down to Midgard in quite awhile."

"She's very beautiful, your daughter," Leif said softly. "And kind too."

"Yes, she is. I'll introduce you to her in a bit, once you're up to receiving visitors,
that is." I joked lightly, gesturing at his half-clothed state.

He managed a half-grin at that, then hissed in protest.

"Sorry. Still tender in some spots, I see." I murmured. "You'll notice more
improvement by tomorrow morning. These look better already."

"Thank the Fates. I hate being stuck in bed."

I patted his shoulder. "Cheer up, young one. It's only for a few days at the most.
Think of it like a vacation, if it makes you feel any better." I replaced the sheet, covering his
backside and legs. Then I felt his forehead. "Good. Your fever's gone. Means your body's
fought off the infection."

He propped his chin up on his hands. "Forgive me, sir. I don't mean to sound
ungrateful. I appreciate you helping me like this, you could have just left me outside or told
me to go back to the hall. In fact, from what I'd heard, I thought you'd . . ." he trailed off
awkwardly, and his face got even redder.

"You thought I'd make sport of you and send you on your way, is that it?" I finished.
"I'm not surprised. My reputation in certain quarters is not a sterling one."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you, sir. I ought to know better than to listen to
rumors. But all the stories say you're nothing but a mischievous prankster who enjoys
playing tricks on the unwary."

"And they'd be right, for I do like pranks, but I only play them on those who truly
deserve it. Like those arrogant boors up at the hall, who need taking down a peg or two. In
fact, I played quite a good one on Thor just now, when I stole you right from under his
nose."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're no longer bound to service in Valhalla. Now, if you agree, you
can serve me, as my new apprentice. You've got quite a bit of Talent there, young man, and
it wants training. Well? What do you say, Leif?"

He was gaping at me like a landed fish. "You . . .really mean that? I'm no longer a
slave to them? I won't ever have to go back there again?"

"Yes to all those questions." I answered, then I told him how I'd won Thor's
agreement. He took great pleasure in hearing how hung over his tormentor had been and he
agreed to stay with me as my student.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you, Master Loki."

"Repay me by being a good student, Leif. That will mean more to me than gold."

He shook his head slowly, as if he could not quite believe his good fortune. "I almost
think I'm dreaming. But it's all real, I know that. Nothing here is what I believed it to be.
I thought Odin was an honorable man and you were a rogue, and instead I find everything
backwards."

"My brother is an honorable man," I put in. "Only he has the annoying habit of
assuming everyone is as honorable as he is, especially certain members of his family, like
his eldest son. I told him long ago that Thor had no more concept of honor than a prancing
camel, and he said he'd learn better when he was older. But he's older now and he's still
the same as he was when he was a mere century old. Worse even, now that he's got the
notion in his head that he's better than the rest of us simply because he's Odin's son."

"Well, isn't he? I mean, he is a prince of Asgard, right? That's royalty."

"When all's said and done, he's no better than any other Aesir. Prince is just a fancy
word for a ruler's son, it doesn't mean that he's noble, kind, or virtuous at all. Shoving a
crown on his head and giving him a title doesn't make a bit of difference to his character.
Which is why you'll note I don't give him any title of respect, for he hasn't earned any. For
me, actions count for more than blood, and the only things he's ever done well are drink, eat,
and beat his servants. Wouldn't you agree, Leif Malasteinsson?"

"Oh, yes. He does all those things damn well. He's the Prince of Petty Pleasures
and Punishments. And he's got the temperament of a dragon with a spear stuck in his tail."

"Not really worthy of anyone's admiration or deference then?"

"No. I don't think there's any Aesir lord that I'd respect up there. If you could have
seen how they laughed when that Grim beat me . . . I wanted to die. That hurt as bad as the
beating. I hated Grim then, but I think I hated the rest of them more, because they could
have helped me a little and they didn't."

"You were the evening's entertainment to them, son." I said bitterly. "Thor and his
friends take great delight in tormenting anyone weaker than they are. When Odin was here,
he could keep them in line, but now that he's gone . . ." I spread my hands. "Things are as
you saw. That's why I don't live up there, even though my kinship with the ruler of Asgard
entitles me to a room at the palace. I couldn't endure endless nights of that bunch of vicious
jackals, so I left and came here."

"Lucky for me." Leif said fervently.

Ava came in with Leif's supper and I sat with him while he ate, pleased to see he had
a decent appetite. When he'd finished, I transported the dirty dishes away to the washtub.
Then I introduced him to Belle.

He was shy and awkward at first, as can only been expected when a pretty girl has
seen you beaten to within an inch of your life. But Belle soon put him at ease. She has an
air about her—wry and gentle and compassionate—that makes everyone, even embarrassed
sixteen-year-old boys, feel comfortable around her. She took what could have been a
horribly awkward moment and turned it from a tragedy into a comedy with an amusing joke
or two.

"You'll have an interesting scar or two to brag about to your wife after your wedding,
Leif," she said, giving him a look that said she would not have minded a husband with such
scars at all.

To my surprise, he actually laughed. "That's assuming I'm ever married. Which
won't be until I've gone home, though I'm sure my father has an eligible girl or two picked
out for me already."

"Picked out for you?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You mean to tell me the
Vanir still have arranged marriages? I thought that antiquated custom went out of style
centuries ago."

"Not in my family. It's tradition. Both my brothers and my sister had matches
arranged for them by my father and mother. My father believes quite firmly that children
don't have the sense the Norns gave a goose when it comes to picking out suitable partners."

"And what does he consider suitable?" Belle inquired, her jade eyes sparkling.

"Oh, you know. A lady of impeccable lineage, accomplished in all the social graces,
educated, pretty, preferably with a large fortune to inherit, since our finances are in such
miserable shape." Leif shrugged. "I've always known what waited for me once I was an
adult."

"But what if you did not like that kind of woman?" Belle frowned. "She sounds like
a paragon and not a real person at all."

"I don't have a choice. My father would find someone as close to that ideal as
possible and that would be it."

"What if you hated each other? I think that's a barbaric custom."

"It's how it's done in noble families. Marriages are for alliance not for the heart."

"Humph. Then it's no wonder why half of you nobles are so miserable. It's a recipe
for disaster. A true marriage should be based on compatibility and affection not what you
were born and how much money you have. I'd never marry a man just because I was told
to." She eyed me over the rim of her tea mug.

"I know better than to even try," I chuckled, and Leif darted me a shocked glance.
I laughed even harder. "You'll find, young Vanir, that ours is a most unconventional
household. Neither I nor my daughter like to be told what to do. Especially not when it
comes to marriage. I've raised her to make up her own mind and she does it quite well. I'm
sure she'll apply that same good sense when she chooses a husband. Or not, as it's not
necessary for a girl to be married here in order to have status in Aesir lands."

"You mean a woman has no status in your land unless she marries?" Belle shook her
head.

"Well, no. She has the status of her father as a girl, but in order to improve that she
must marry a man with a higher status and then she assumes the status of her husband," Leif
explained.

Belle rolled her eyes. "How about her own status? As a person, in her own
right. Women do have minds of their own. Sometimes more than men, if you want the
truth."

"True, but it's always been assumed that women are, ah, more ruled by emotions
than men, so—"

"Oh, Norns preserve us! Not that old line again. Do you really believe that, Leif?
Take a look at your own situation now. Two overly emotional men beat you half to death,
and no woman would have done the same in the same situation. I assure you, such would
never have happened if my aunt Frigga or any of her ladies were in the hall. I'd say men are
more slaves to their passions than women, given the so-called nobles up at Valhalla."

"Maybe in your country, but in Vanaheim it's different," Leif insisted stubbornly.

"Are you telling me that Vanir men don't get drunk, don't have tempers, don't beat
their servants?"

"Well, it has happened before, but it's not the sort of thing that's considered proper
behavior."

"It isn't considered proper here either," she retorted. "But that doesn't mean it
doesn't happen. And I'm sure that the women in Vanaheim are just as capable of running
their estates and making their own decisions as a man, if someone would only let them try."

Leif's mouth twitched into a smile. "All right, you win! Sun and Moon, but I'm glad
you never met my father. You'd be at each other's throats."

"I'm glad I wasn't born a Vanir lady," Belle returned. "Because I think I would have
died of boredom."

"Either that or slain half of them with your saucy tongue," my new apprentice
grinned.

"Serves them right. Why, does it bother you that I speak my mind?"

"No. I find it most. . . refreshing."

"Refreshing?" A slight smile quirked up at the corner of her mouth. "Well, I guess
that's better than being an insolent twit, which is what Grim called me one day."

"When was this?" I asked, for she'd not been up to Valhalla at all since she'd
returned from Ran's palace this year.

"Oh, some time last summer. I'd gone to visit Sigyn and we met in the corridor.
He's never one to let an opportunity pass for an insult, but I gave him one in return that
pinned his ears back good." She smiled reminiscently. "I told him that while I might be an
insolent twit, that was better than being a boil on the backside of your family."

I burst out laughing at her sheer audacity.

Leif, however, was more shocked than amused. "You really said that to him?
Weren't you afraid he might, uh, do something to you?" he finished lamely.

"Like what? Even here, it's considered cowardly for a man to hit a woman, especially
a freeborn one." Belle scoffed. "He'd not dare do anything to me. A long time ago he
tormented me and Father gave him a lesson he's never forgotten. Not that I need that sort
of protection now. I know a spell or two that would knock him right on his aristocratic
behind if he dared use anything more than words against me. Grim might strut and act
tough, but magic scares him stiff. Ask anyone. He lives in mortal terror of my father, I
think."

"Oh, not mortal terror," I disagreed. "Say rather a healthy respect for what I can do
or will tolerate from arrogant rude little brats like him. He knows better than to cross me
or anyone I've placed under my protection."

"Does that include your apprentice, sir?" Leif asked.

"It does. So you needn't fear any more bullying from that witless troll son if you
happen to return to Valhalla on an errand for me in the future. Everyone in Asgard knows
that anyone who harms my apprentice will deal with me. And while I don't usually use
magic to kill, I can make your life very unpleasant with it, as Grim learned."

"Did he ever! Learned at the end of a switch," my daughter laughed, and proceeded
to tell Leif all about that incident in her childhood.

I was enjoying the lively repartee between the two. The Vanir snobbishness and
concern with class status had been what had caused me so much misery as a child and I still
found the notion that one was considered "superior" to another by virtue of birth and a name
utterly asinine. It had annoyed me past bearing then and it still did. Not that Leif was a
rabid defender of the so-called superiority of his class, but he still harbored the prejudices
of his upbringing regarding women and commoners, and it was a joy to watch my daughter
neatly puncture Leif's bubble of stuffy Vanir logic with the sword of her tongue. Better
watch out, boy, because she'll have you running in circles and jumping through hoops and
you won't even ask why. Our Aesir women are no man's lackey, and my daughter even less
so than most.

I tuned back into the conversation that had continued on without me, and heard Leif
make a derogatory comment about Grim being related to trolls and not noble Aesir men,
which was not surprising, given what Grim had done to the poor kid.

"Oh, you're dead right there, Leif," Belle agreed. "I've always thought he should
seek among the troll kin for a wife, since no other girl would put up with him. I'm also glad
you don't agree with his assessment of me, else we'd have a real argument every day. This
way, we might have one only every other day."

Leif looked faintly nonplussed, as if the idea of Belle arguing with him did not sit
quite right or perhaps the strain of carrying on such a debate was too wearying for him in his
delicate state. I noted the telltale signs of exhaustion around his mouth and eyes, signs he
was ignoring for the pleasure of my daughter's company. In the interests of his health, I
decided to interrupt their little debate for now.

I cleared my throat, and both of them started and looked at me in astonishment, I
think they'd forgotten I was there. "While I'm sure you two could go on all night shredding
Grim's character, among other things, it's growing late and Leif needs a good night's sleep
more than conversation."

"Yes, you're right. We'll talk some more tomorrow," Belle said quickly, looking
somewhat chagrined. She rose to her feet.

"But I feel fine," Leif argued, looking sulky, like a two-year-old told to do something
he didn't want to. "I'm not tired at all."

"Oh yes you are, young man, you simply don't realize it yet," I put in firmly. Belle
took the hint and left, bidding us good night.

Leif gazed after her longingly, then shot me a petulant glare. "You didn't have to
send her away. I'm not the least bit sleepy, I slept all day. I'm not a little kid, you know."

"True, but you are my patient, Leif Malasteinsson, and as such under my care. Belle
realizes, as I do, that you're not fully recovered from your ordeal, and as such you need more
rest than usual. Healing takes a lot out of you, naturally or magically. As your physician I
know what's best for your health, boy, so quit sulking and just do as I say."

I used my most authoritative tone of voice when I said that to him, knowing he'd
respond automatically to it, as he'd been raised to obey a dominant male figure.

He lowered his gaze to the pillow and murmured, "Yes, sir. Whatever you say,
Master."

"Close your eyes and go to sleep, lad," I said in a gentler tone. "You'll feel ten times
better tomorrow morning, trust me."

He sighed and lay back against the pillow, and as soon as he closed his eyes he was
asleep, just as I'd predicted. It was only then that his body could begin to truly heal the
damage done to him.

I left the door slightly ajar, and sought my own bed. I rose several times during the
night to check on him, making sure no fever returned and that he was sleeping peacefully.
The fever remained absent, but he murmured and whimpered the second time I came by, and
I sat beside his bed, humming a soothing tune that would counteract the nightmares he was
having. I was very good with suggestion spells and it was this that I wove into his dreams,
helping him banish the night terrors back into the void. He slept then, his breathing calm
and his face serene as a little child's. Though I'd wager a thousand gold crowns that he'd
have been embarrassed as hell if he'd known I'd just sung him to sleep to the tune of "Hush,
Little Baby." Hey, whatever works, right?

Satisfied he'd sleep soundly now, I returned to bed, and slept right through Ragnar's
crowing, only awakening when Ava rattled the pots on the stove as she cooked breakfast.

Leif improved steadily after that, though I kept him confined to his bed for the next
two afternoons to give the welts time to scab over. Bella and I visited him regularly, taking
our meals together, though in the afternoon he was left alone since that was our preferred
time to go riding. I gave him some books of basic mage craft to study while we were gone,
so he wasn't bored with waiting for our return.

I was surprised that he'd had no real tutoring in his Gift before this, since the Vanir
were usually quick to recognize magical Talent in their offspring. As a rule, Vanir were
more magically inclined than their Aesir brethren, which led me to think that I was probably
the offspring of an Aesir-Vanir cross, instead of the more popular giant the mortals made
me out to be. Giants have different magical abilities, mostly having to do with earth and
stone, whereas I was largely Gifted with fire and air as well as some elements of the forest,
which gave me my shapeshifting abilities.

Belle I also suspected had Vanir blood in her, as well as mortal (undoubtedly) and
Aesir. The Vanir blood gave her a delicacy of face and form that many of the Aesir lacked,
but from her Aesir ancestor she'd gained a hardiness of spirit and body. It was anyone's
guess what she'd inherited from her mortal half, unless it was stubbornness, for mortals were
among the stubbornest creatures ever to walk the earth. But they were also insatiably
curious and innovative, traits my daughter had in abundance.

However, they were traits I also shared, and that is probably the reason why I always
felt comfortable around them. Mortals lived brief lives compared to our own, but I had long
ago observed that they packed several immortal lifetimes worth of experience into their
single span. Or they did if they were lucky. Impulsive, reckless, headstrong, yes humans
were all those things, but they were also full of a vigor we immortals lacked as a race.

I said as much to my new pupil the second afternoon. "There is much we can learn
from humans, as well as much we can teach them."

Leif gaped at me as if I'd just suggested he stand on his head naked. "Humans teach
us? But Master, they're lesser creatures than us, what can we possibly learn from them?"

"Quite a lot. Where do you think I learned my medical knowledge? Not our people,
you can be sure, for they have no need for such. For that I studied among the great healers
of Midgard—the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Romans, and the Arabs. They taught me the
techniques I used on you. That comfrey salve which worked such wonders on your sore
skin—that was invented by a human doctor. The fever syrup I dosed you with is a secret
cure made from the bark of willows discovered by an Egyptian physician, and so is the
poppy pain reliever. Oh, there is much we can learn from humans, apprentice. We may
have powers they lack and lifespans they can only envy, but we are not all-knowing or wise,
though some among us would like to think so."

"But once we ruled over humans," Leif argued. "Doesn't that by definition mean we
are better than they?"

"You tell me. Thor rules here in Asgard for a time. Do you think he is a good ruler?
You have seen how he treats servants firsthand, yet he is in power over you. Do you think
he is better than you because people bow to him and call him Regent?"

"No! Thor doesn't rule, he tyrannizes people. He takes the power he's given and
uses it to make people fear him."

"Exactly my point. For that is what several immortals did to humans long ago. They
set themselves up as gods, and caused mortals to worship them. It was a game to them, only
the pieces they played with weren't wooden toys but real people. And some of them did
great harm to humans, causing war, famine, and death."

"You're speaking of the time when you Aesir were worshipped as gods."

"Yes, but we Aesir were not the only ones guilty of that mistake. Zeus and Hera,
those who call themselves the Greco-Roman pantheon, Ra and Isis and the Egyptian
immortals, Ishtar, Bal, Morrigan, Lugh and all the rest, we are all guilty of meddling in the
affairs of mortals. And usually it was not for their good, but for our own selfish reasons."

"But we gave humans things they never would have had," Leif pointed out. "We
taught them how to be civilized, how to build and cultivate, how to do more than just hunt
and kill and survive."

"True. Some of us helped more than we harmed. But we also did great harm,
stirring up old hatreds and causing wars. The Trojan War, that destroyed an entire
civilization was encouraged by a few immortal ladies arguing over who was the fairest. An
immortal beauty contest resulted in the death of hundreds of thousands. Do you think that
is an act of a superior race?"

"Well, when you put it like that, no. But Loki, they worshipped you as a god too
back then. You were the God of Mischief and Thieves."

I nodded. "I never said I was not guilty of the same mistakes as my fellow immortals
once upon a time. But the difference with me is that I learned from mine. I never required
my followers to sacrifice more to me than the occasional jewel or cake or perhaps a rabbit
or two. I didn't demand human sacrifice or grand temples nor smash humans to a pulp when
they didn't show me proper homage. I was the god of tricks and pranks, I taught them to
laugh and play and to take joy in being imperfect beings. I was the god of thieves too, but
never that of murderers or assassins. I never told any of my worshippers to kill in my name
either. Humans killed all too often as it was, they didn't need any encouragement. My
relatives, they had their followers slaughter right and left, but I refused to do that. They
called me coward, but I didn't care then, for I had learned the meaning of peace. A very
wise man named Jesus taught me that."

"I've heard of that one. The White Christ, his followers call him. He was once one
of us, wasn't he?"

"Yes and no. He was half-mortal too. But he sacrificed himself for the good of the
world and in so doing attained a true immortality. He was one of the most unselfish beings
I have ever known. A great Healer. It is why his teachings still survive on Midgard today.
Because peace is the one thing that lasts." I smiled sadly. "Once I thought otherwise. But
I have since been proven wrong."

"And yet, humans kill in the name of Christ as much now as they did the names of
our relatives," Leif pointed out.

I grimaced. "Yes, I know. A great irony, that. And a tragedy too. But no one ever
said the human race is perfect. I have since come to the conclusion that they are like us,
with good and bad individuals among them. But they have two things we lack—hope and
change. The hope to someday be better and the will to change and make it so. But you'll
understand better when you go down to Midgard one day and see for yourself."

"Then you're going to take me to Midgard soon?"

"Eventually. You don't just pop over to Midgard the way you do to a country fair.
It takes a good bit of planning, you need supplies, disguises, and so forth. But someday I
shall take you and Belle there. It is vastly different from Asgard and even Vanaheim. It has
a beauty all its own."

"Is that why your Odin spends so much time there?"

"Partly. But Midgard offers us challenges our own realms don't. You'll understand
better when you see it. Odin fell in love with it long ago and has remained so to this day."

So passed our second afternoon together. The next I began quizzing on him his
knowledge of magical studies, and then I learned that he would have begun lessons with a
tutor of magic had he been home, but instead he'd been sent here, and his magical studies
had been put on hold.

"That was a foolish thing to do. Magic waits for neither god nor man. Once it
emerges, it needs training, lest it become a danger to others and to the magician as well.
Every magician knows that, even the least among us. Your father should have trained you
in the basics of control if nothing else, especially before sending you here. Oh well, no use
in crying over spilt milk, as they say. You're my apprentice now and I can teach you as well
if not better than any Vanir master."

"Who was your master, sir?"

"No one and everyone." I laughed at his puzzled expression. "Didn't anyone ever
tell you I was never formally taught? I learned on my own, through trial and error, as I was
never considered good enough to rate a formal tutor as a child, since I was just an orphan.
Nor did my foster parents have money for one."

"But I thought you just said it was dangerous to learn magic without a teacher."

"It is. I wouldn't recommend it, trust me. I was extremely lucky not to have killed
myself a dozen times over. But when you're an orphan without a family, you learn to
depend on no one but yourself. I have always been an intuitive magician, it was that which
saved me from making too many major mistakes that would have killed me. And eventually
I met other magicians willing to give me advice and a few lessons here and there, though I
was never formally apprenticed. But, as I said, teaching yourself magic is not what I'd
recommend at all. It is a magician's duty, I believe, to teach others the responsible use of
the Art. That is why you're here, after all."

"My father would be horrified, I think, if he learned I was being tutored by the
Master of Mischief," Leif said with a mischievous grin.

"Too bad," I growled. "I'm the only one available who could teach you with
any degree of competence and speed around here. So he can take his pretensions and shove
them where the sun doesn't shine."

Leif collapsed in laughter. "Oh, sir! If he ever heard you say that . . .he'd be . . ."

"Struck dumb, collapsed in a fit, frothing at the mouth?" I suggested, my eyes
twinkling. "Pity all you Vanir lords can't take a bit of friendly criticism. It does wonders
for your self-image. And you start to behave like a normal person instead of an icon."

"You have no respect for those in authority, do you, Master?"

"Very little, mostly because those in authority have no respect for me. It works both
ways, Leif. Respect has to be earned, not blindly given. That's one lesson I learned on
Midgard. It's also the one lesson that escapes most of us immortals, Aesir as well as Vanir."
I drew in a breath. "Be that as it may, we were discussing the aspects of power."

By the fourth morning, I pronounced him healed enough to leave his bed and join
Belle and I on our outdoor excursions. The welts had faded to almost nothing, save a few
white lines. The memories would take longer. Indeed, I doubted he'd ever forget what
happened. But such was life, and he'd learned a valuable lesson in the abuse of power,
necessary for a young magician.

I taught my young charges about botany and nature as well as those magics
associated with woods, fields, and streams. I explained much of my knowledge had been
gained from spending years roaming the great forest on the border of Asgard, as well as
learning from the dryads, pixies, and other fae who dwelled there. They had been eager and
willing tutors in the Art and it was why I never discounted them the way so many of the so-
called higher immortals did. I taught them how to become one with the land around them,
to use the magic to make it part of them, for in this way they would learn how to shape shift.

Belle already knew how to transform into several marine creatures, such as a
dolphin, a sea turtle, or a gray whale. But this was Leif's first experience, and in order to
do a shift properly, you must not only understand the animal you became, but the place
where it lived. Everything was interconnected. For this first time, we became foxes, later
we practiced as squirrels, wolves, cats and rabbits. Leif eventually learned how to transform
into a bird, and unlike me, he didn't suffer from queasiness afterwards. Neither had my flare
for shifting, but mine was an unusual ability, and I did not expect it of them.

The days drifted from winter into spring, and before I knew it Leif had been with us
over three months, a regular member of the household by now. I began teaching him fire
magic now, which was at once the easiest and most difficult of the elemental disciplines to
master. Every apprentice can conjure a ball of witchlight or a fire spark spell that can light
a candle or start a small campfire or singe the britches of an annoying suitor, which was
what my daughter had done once to a young man who wouldn't take no for an answer. But
fire was unpredictable, like cats and men, and one could never truly call oneself fire's
master. Even I couldn't say that, and I had been playing with fire, so to speak, for centuries.
With fire, you had to maintain the tightest discipline over emotions, and spell out exactly
what you wanted it to do, for given a loophole in a spell matrix, it would slip through and
wreak merry hell.

I had a special room in my tower made especially for fire conjuring, bare stone
prepared with layer upon layer of fire repellent magic and dousing spells. It was where I
went to refine or test new fire spells and it was where I brought Leif in turn to begin his
training. There, I could be reasonably sure that if a spell did go awry, I could halt it without
damage to either magician or my house.

But for a month before I allowed him to set foot there, I drilled him relentlessly in
the meditative disciplines, for you only got one chance with fire. He hated those sessions,
as most of my apprentices did, but they were vital in a young magician's schooling, and I
never neglected them. I had put myself through the same regimen, so I knew just what a
pain in the ass they were, but sacrifice was part and parcel of mastery.

Ran had put Belle through the same type of torture, so she was sympathetic to Leif's
bitching. Up to a point, that is. Then she told him to shut up and quit whining. He did. For
some reason, it was more effective when she said it then when I did. Must be a woman
thing. For I had noticed that first night that he was attracted to her and wanted to impress
her. It was only natural, I suppose, and I did not mind it.

Leif was a Vanir gentleman to the bone, I didn't need to worry about him forgetting
himself and trying to force his attentions on my daughter. He had developed a rather acute
case of puppy love, I thought at the time. Typical adolescent behavior. Belle seemed to
return it, and I watched with knowing eyes from afar. Nothing wrong with a little romance.

Besides, I left them little time to be alone, for the mornings and a good part of the
afternoon were taken up with Leif's lessons in fire magery and as he progressed further, I
added air to it. Air was more malleable than fire, some said too malleable, but that was not
entirely true. One could mold air easier, but air could be a stubborn adversary, and deadly
if roused. Tornadoes, hurricanes, all of the great storms had been spawned from air, and like
any element it had its dark side as well as its light.

On the light side, air magery lent itself easily to spells of illusion, trickery, and
deceit—my stock in trade. Disguises and seeming glamours, they had been the companions
of my lonely youth, assuming them for an afternoon had enabled me to become at least for
a short time someone other than the unwanted outcast that belonged nowhere, Loki Son of
Nobody. And in the casting of disguises, I had learned the trick of seeing truly, until now
it was rare for me to be fooled by illusion.

Leif proved apt at illusion casting. He was an attentive student, one of my best, and
I enjoyed my lessons with him immensely. He was especially good at disguising objects, of
making a stick look like a snake, or a rock like a ruby, putting the illusionary skin on so tight
against the true object that it was hard for a mage to see through it. Even I, for all my
experience and my well-honed Sight, was sometimes fooled by his illusions.

"You could make a fortune as a thief," I had teased one afternoon, when he'd tricked
me into believing a mere garnet was a first rate ruby.

"For awhile. Until my father caught wind of it and then I'd be a dead thief," he
answered solemnly, though I could tell he was pleased by my praise.

I gathered from some of his remarks that he was deathly afraid of his sire, and
perhaps his agreement to sell himself into slavery had been more for himself than his
family's fortune. Perhaps it had been the only way he could see of getting out from his
father's thumb. Malastein seemed to rule merely by breathing, he wasn't deliberately cruel,
but he insisted on immediate obedience, he was like a force of nature. I remarked once that
for all his force of command, he'd been unable to control his failing finances, and Leif had
snorted and said that'd been the one thing he couldn't control, but he'd been working on it.

I began to understand why Leif had agreed to something which I would have found
intolerable. As a son in his father's house, he lived under a form of slavery already, so
agreeing to give his bond to Odin was not the utter subjugation of spirit it would have been
to me.

Only now did he begin to see that there was another way, that it was not necessary
to bend his will totally to another's, that he could make some of his own decisions and they
were good ones. I did not demand unquestioning obedience from anyone, such a concept
was utterly abhorrent to me, who loved freedom. I routinely changed lessons when and if
I felt like it, I had no set schedule after I'd taught him the basic disciplines.

"Magic is flexible, so too should the magician be," was one of my mottos.

"You're unlike any teacher I've ever had," he confided to me one day after a walk
through the woods. "All the other tutors I had always insisted on being on time, keeping to
the schedule, and learning what they taught solemnly."

"Boring, autocratic, and utterly humorless. Rather like a mummy," I rolled my eyes.
"Just the kind of teacher I'd hate, if I'd had one. Always stern and glowering, wouldn't
crack a smile to save his life, and all too ready to punish the slightest lapse with a switch,
am I right?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh, what pranks I'd have pulled with that one," I smiled, my nose twitching. "That
kind of uptight idiot just begs for a snake curled up round his books or disappearing ink or
a severe case of belching or hives."

"But if he'd found out you'd been behind it, you'd have been beaten good and
proper."

"Not if he couldn't prove anything. I'm not known as the Trickster for nothing. That
kind can't stand to be laughed at, humiliation is the worst torment for them. I'd have driven
him to tears and stammers within a week and he'd have resigned the day after."

Leif snickered. "I'd have paid good money to see that."

"What I've never understood is why anyone would put somebody like that in charge
of their children? Oh, I know the old excuse, children need discipline, a firm hand, and all
that nonsense." I made my voice deep and sonorous, like some stern lord's. Then I shrugged
a shoulder and said in my normal tones, "But children learn no better for being scared to
death than they do by being coaxed into it. In fact, I've found they learn worse if they're
terrified. And isn't the whole point of teaching to make sure your pupil likes what you
teach? And I've yet to meet a child who enjoys being scared into obedience. Which is why
you'll never see a switch in my hand, Mr. Malasteinsson. Because the key to a willing
student isn't obedience, it's a willing teacher. You should only teach what you love, then
you'll have no problems. I'd wager if you went back and asked all those stiff masters if they
liked teaching, they'd say they hated it and would have rather been out planting corn or
counting money or married to some pretty village maid instead. But the corn crop failed,
the money was stolen, and the maid ran off with the butcher's boy, and what could they do?
Why, teach, since all they had was an education, and it was the proper thing to do. And they
hated it and made everyone's life a misery as a result."

"What would you have done differently if you were them, Master?"

A/N: Loki's reply to Leif will be coming next chapter, as he reveals that he's not your ordinary master to the young Vanir. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed this!