The Gift

I stared, transfixed, at the sight of Marissa slumped on the black shaft of the Spear of War and Death. I could not move, could not even breathe. If I did, I knew it would simply affirm what my eyes were already seeing—my beloved, struck down, her heart's blood slowly running out of her to pool in a red swath across the dark rock.

In the wake of the Black Spear the broken bodies of innocents lay scattered.

Some skald had written that during the last war when Odin had used Gungnir, I recalled fuzzily. Truer words had never been spoken, for there lay my Seeker, innocence shattered and broken indeed.

With a snarl, I reached out and tore the spear from her, my eyes red with such fury that I could barely breathe. It slipped free of her easily, sated now with her blood. My hand tightened convulsively on the bloodied shaft, dark with the blood of countless victims. I knelt on one knee, Gungnir balanced lightly in my hand, rage mingled with grief thick in my throat, searching out an enemy to slay.

*I am death. I am blood. I am the glory of war. Use me. Wield me, and I shall make of you a legend. *

I could hear Gungnir's sweet war ballad in my head, urging me to kill, to slay, to forget my loss in the flames of war and vengeance.

For there was Malastein, weaponless before me. Malastein, the slayer of my beloved. Malastein, my blood enemy, who owed me the price of a mortal life. For one instant all the blood-debt and vengeance of my wild Aesir ancestors rose in me, rattling their swords and shields, screaming loudly for the sweet taste of vengeance and blood. A red mist rose before me, and I knew I could claim blood-guilt from Malastein with Gungnir and satisfy this aching in my chest with his death.

*Slay him, my lord, and the blood-price will be satisfied,* the Black Spear hissed, trembling in my grasp.

But no, that was wrong. I was no warrior, no lord. I was a magician . . .and I did not kill for the joy of it, nor revel in death and destruction. The path of vengeance and hate was not for me. I turned a deaf ear to Gungnir's pleading, dropping the Black Spear at my feet.

I lifted Marissa into my arms, cradling her close. Blood stained my arms and tunic a brilliant crimson. Cold, she was so cold . . .But I could feel the life in her still . . . a few breaths . . .her eyelids fluttered . . ."Loki . . ." her name hssed through bloodless lips, and I caught her dying thoughts. *There is . . . no greater love . . . than a woman lay down her life . . . for her beloved . . .*

*NO!* I howled soundlessly, my heart splintering into pieces. *Don't leave me, Rissa!*

Beneath my hand her heartbeat faltered.

*Sorry . . . love . . .*

I knew then what I must do. I had not the gift to heal, such was not my Talent. Yet all immortals are given the power to save a life once in their existence.

Once only.

I had turned away from the path of vengeance, the old way of war.

Now I embraced the path of peace, and to that end I would heal what had been broken.

I bent over her, my mouth touching hers. "Take my breath, it is a gift I give freely." I breathed into her mouth.

I drew upon the last of my power. "Take my life, it is a gift I give freely." I felt the great wound in her chest close, the blood begin to run in her veins once more. Crystalline tears ran freely down my cheeks to mingle with her blood.

"Take my heart, I give it to you freely. By all the Powers That Be, I make you immortal, whole in body and spirit, a part of me for all eternity."

With those words I gave her all that I was. All of my power, the true essence of what I was, that made me immortal, I took from within me and shared with her. I felt my bones turn to liquid fire and I screamed in agony, for such a gift is not made without sacrifice. But beyond the pain was light, love, and a heart that beat warm and steady beneath my fingers.

Marissa lived, she breathed, and suddenly all of the pain that had gone before was worth it. I had sacrificed a portion of my immortality in return for her life, but I found I did not care. The sharing had made me more, not less. To gain all, you must first sacrifice all. Like Jesus before me, I had offered up the ultimate sacrifice, and been rewarded beyond all expectations.

I held Marissa close, savoring her every breath, my eyes bright with tears, and waited for the battle to end.

End it did, with Baldur slaying Malastein when he refused to surrender to the Aesir prince, and Belle and Leif driving the remaining fire giant away with snowballs and heavy rain. I was content. The threat of war no longer loomed upon the horizon. Gungnir would be returned to Valhalla, where its influence would be muted and muffled, and peace would reign once more in the realm of the gods.

My quest was done. Now I could go home and live the life I had chosen for myself as magician of Asgard. Only this time I wouldn't be going home alone. I, who was once an orphan with no family, would now return with a wife and a daughter and a new son.

I smiled as I thought of this. Then I passed out, right in my new wife's immortal arms.

Marissa informed me later that I slept for nearly a week, because even immortal flesh doesn't recover that quickly from being battered, torn, drained, and given away. But when I woke I was lucid, refreshed in body and soul, and . . .weak as a newborn kitten. For three days I remained thus, barely able to stir a step without help, living off broth and a thin gruel fed to me by Ava and Belle. But on the fourth day I awoke hale and hearty as if nothing had ever happened, full of energy and vigor, my magic sparkling through me like fine wine.

I met Marissa coming through the door with a tray of soup and bread. The sight of me awake and dressed startled her so much she nearly dropped the whole tray on the floor. Luckily, I caught it just as it slipped from her grasp, placing it on the table next to the bed.

"Thanks, sweetheart. I was just about to go looking for something to eat," I said, and gave her my most endearing grin.

"I guess you're feeling better, huh?" Laughing, she kissed me.

"Much." I answered, drawing her into my arms and putting my head against her hair. She smelled of lavender and hyacinths. Quite a contrast from the last time I'd held her, bleeding and dying in my arms. We remained that way for a long while, neither of us saying anything.

At last I said, "It's like a miracle, holding you in my arms, alive and laughing."

"I know."

"Did they tell you what happened after Gungnir . . .struck you?"

"Yes. Belle explained everything to me. She told me you saved my life . . .by giving me the gift of your immortality. Does that make you half immortal now?"

"No. It only means that my powers are less than what they were. A small price to pay for bringing you back among the living."

"Oh Loki. I can never repay you," she began.

"Hush," I put a finger to her lips. "All debts between us are paid, Marissa, as of this moment. You saved me and I saved you. The scales balance. What I gave you, I gave freely, and I will never regret it. Do you?"

"No. Of course not! I only wish there was something I could give you in return."

"But you already have given me something. Yourself. Live with me and love me, that's all I ask of you."

"I can do that. That won't be hard at all."

"Ummm . . .you might think differently after you've had to put up with me for a month."

"I doubt it," she answered. "I love you, Loki. Now more than ever."

"Me too." I said, then I sat down on the bed, holding her gently on my lap.

"Hey! I thought you were hungry, mister," she giggled, fending off my hands.

"I am. Just not for food. Yet." I said huskily. I began to play with her hair.

"Should you be doing this? So soon after you've been sick, I mean?"

"I'm fully recovered," I chuckled. "Why? Don't you want to?"

"Yes. I just was worried . . .that I might exhaust you or something," she said impishly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Exhaust me? Over a few kisses?" I laughed, kissing her ardently.

"If you're certain?" she asked, her eyes twinkling up at me.

"Definitely."

I shut up after that, concentrating on kissing her thoroughly. I was no novice, but with Marissa it was as if I were reborn, and together we explored the depths of our newfound passion. And in her arms I learned again the definition of love, which I had never really known before. Always before, I had kept a part of myself back, never daring to let myself love truly. Not so with Marissa.

I had gone to the gates of death for her, had bartered for her soul with the coin of my immortality. There was nothing I did not know about her and she about me. My darkest secrets and noblest sentiments were hers to know, and the same was true of her. Once that would have terrified me, but no longer. I had learned to trust, and thus to love wholeheartedly.

The lonely child that had been betrayed by those he had trusted was no more, he had found solace in Marissa, she who had sought out all the bruised places in my soul and healed them with her compassion and love. She alone in all the world accepted me for all that I was—magician, thief, rogue, father, lover, and husband.

And all she asked for in return was that I love her.

I did, Norns help me, I did. More than I ever thought possible.

In the days that followed, I set out to prove my love to her in both word and deed. I courted her in the old-fashioned sense of the word, bringing her small gifts of jewelry and candy, taking her for long walks in the orchard, or riding with her along the beach beside Ran's sea palace.

We played in the waves, swimming as dolphins or sea otters, frolicking with the mer people who were Ran's subjects. Afterwards we had a picnic on the sand, sharing the fish and other food we'd brought with the mermaids and mermen, who'd assumed legs for an afternoon.

The seafolk were extremely fun to be around, they loved to joke and laugh and to play silly games like Blindman's Bluff and charades, as well as riddles and dice. They made a potent wine from pressed sea grapes called seasilk, and thought it hilarious when we got drunk after only two glasses. The mer people metabolize alcohol differently than we Aesir do, and thus it takes them longer to get drunk. But they very kindly put Marissa and me to bed in their palace, treating us as honored guests.

This was partly due to the fact that they respected me as the highest ranking magician in Asgard and didn't want to run the risk of offending me, and also due to the fact that my wife and I were now regarded as heroes for finding and recovering Gungnir. It was ironic, really, that the object that had caused us both so much pain and toil was also the very thing that made our reputations great.

Leif had even composed a ballad about our quest, and for once it wasn't idiotically heroic or filled with high-flown sentiments, but a simple tale of mistakes made, love found, sacrifices made, souls redeemed, and justice served. In short it told the truth, as so few bardic tales do.

I was quite proud of him for writing it, for he did not spare himself at all, but he said afterwards that it was part of his penance for stealing Gungnir in the first place. Thor, after hearing it for the first time, declared the young Vanir had punished himself more aptly than he could have, and declared the matter closed.

Thus Leif married my daughter with a clear conscience and an unsullied reputation. The wedding was held in a pavillion between Ran's palace and Valhalla, and it featured food from both sea and land. Thor opened the treasury to pay for it, saying it was the least he could do after Leif and Belle had brought Gungnir home, so the wedding cost me nothing.

Belle made a gorgeous bride, wearing a silken blue dress made for her by Freya, and as I escortd her to her new husband I kept blinking back tears. "Stupid dust!" I growled, trying to cover my sentimentality.

Belle squeezed my arm and whispered, "I'll miss you too, Father. But I'm only across the yard, not in a different realm."

"It's not the same," I muttered. But then I smiled at her and said, "Be happy, Belle."

After the short ceremony, I gave both youngsters my blessing and the kiss of welcome before escorting them to the feast. Soon, I thought giddily, it would be my turn.

The two moved into a small house I had built for them on the edge of my property, as Leif was still my apprentice, as Belle was Ran's. The young Vanir was nothing like his vindictive father, for he forgave Baldur for killing his sire. "He had to be stopped, and the Norns chose you as the instrument of their vengeance. You did us all a favor."

Belle stood as Marissa's attendant at my wedding, and Baldur was my groomsman, in the absence of Odin. We had opted not to wait for my brother to return but to have our vows spoken as soon as we could. I had waited centuries for this day and I wasn't minded to wait one day more. Our wedding feast was held in Valhalla, and all of my Aesir family except my missing brother attended. It was a singular honor done me for my actions in bringing Gungnir home. It was the first time in my memory that no one had anything derogatory to say either to my face or behind my back. They accepted me at last and with me my immortal wife, and for the first time ever Valhalla felt like home, a place where I belonged. I was the recipient of many back slaps and toasts and the grin on my face stretched from ear to ear.

I danced with all the ladies of the court, including Sigyn, who gave me a congratulatory kiss on the cheek and murmured, "Did I not say, Loki, that someday you would find a woman that would win your heart?"

"I'm sorry I ever doubted you," I laughed.

"I wish you every happiness. You deserve it," she said sincerely.

"So do you," I said softly.

"And I've found it with Hoenir," she said, beaming.

"Odin's secretary?"

She nodded. "He's been coming to call quite regularly. In a few months I might ask you to escort me at my wedding."

"Me? But-but I'm not old enough to be your father!" I sputtered.

"Well, since mine is long passed, you are the closest I have to a male relative," she informed me impishly.

I bowed over her hand. "The honor is mine, Lady Sigyn."

I glanced over at my bride and found her dancing a reel with Baldur, her dark hair flying free behind her, entwined with summer flowers, like a wild nymph. I tapped Baldur on the shoulder. "Excuse me, little brother, but I'm stealing my bride away."

Baldur spun her around and then laughingly released her, saying, "You sure you want to dance with this rogue, Rissa, darling?"

My wife grinned at me, a sultry sweet smile she reserved only for me. "Always, Baldur." She came willingly into my arms and said, "Shall we dance, my Bright Heart?"

I spun her around. "Bright Heart? I've never been called that before."

She twirled about me, her feet glidng like a bird's through the air. "It's my name for you, husband. Because you are the heart that brightens my days."

I matched her step for step, our hearts beating as one. "Just the days, lady?" I queried with a smirk.

She swatted my arm. "Behave, Loki! A lady never speaks about that in polite company. But you know full well what I mean, alskling." She murmured calling me the Swedish for "dear one" or "my love".

"I do, my sweet wife," I purred, my voice soft as summer velvet. And I was looking forward to the wedding night with sweet aching anticipation.

I was not disappointed.

So passed the long lazy days of summer, and in Odin's absence, I helped Thor draw up a treaty with the Vanir lords that would, I hoped, put an end to their squabbling with my people and bring about a lasting peace between the two kingdoms. It was dry, boring, and maddening work, since the Vanir lords were inclined to quibble over every word, but at last we managed to hammer out a set of accords everyone could live with, Norns be praised! Whoever said peace was easy has never tried to ratify a treaty with the Vanir. It was a hell of a lot easier when we were trying to kill each other with our bare hands, believe me. I had to keep Thor drunk for most of the proceedings, since otherwise he would have probably insulted half the delegation with his blunt (read rude here) ways and started another war. But in the end it all worked out.

It was around this time that my footloose and fancy-free brother decided to return home. He roused me from my warm bed at the crack of dawn by tapping on my door with his blasted walking stick (which was really a Staff of the Magi in disguise). I was ready to spit fire, I can tell you, especially since I'd been sleeping quite contentedly with Marissa wrapped about me.

I yanked open the door, practically frothing at the mouth. "What the bloody blue blazes do you want? Don't you know what time of the morning it is, damn it all?"

"So sorry, brother. Was I interrupting something?" Odin inquired, his one eye twinkling merrily.

I nearly fell over. "Fenrir's bloody blue balls! About time you came home, Odin!" I gasped.

"Ah, that's more like it," my brother laughed, embracing me heartily.

"Come in, you old vagabond. Wait till you hear what's been going on while you were away . . ." I began.

Odin followed me meekly, and sat drinking several cups of tea and eating some of Ava's delicious cinnamon-blueberry scones while I filled him in on everything that had happened in the year and a half he'd been away.

"Well, at least you weren't bored," he remarked after I'd finished my story.

"That's one malady I didn't suffer from," I snorted. Then I added softly, "So . . . you aren't angry that I made Rissa immortal without your permisson?"

As leader of the Aesir, Odin could have me banished for doing so, whether he would or not was something I wasn't sure of.

To my relief, my brother's one eye twinkled. "Loki, you had extenuating circumstances. I would be a poor brother indeed if I punished you for saving the woman who won your heart and brought back my spear at the cost of her life." He frowned. "Did you honestly believe I'm that petty?"

"I . . . wasn't sure," I admitted, not wanting him to know that I had suddenly become vulnerable as I never was before.

"Humph! Well, you can put that mischievous brain of yours to rest, Loki. I'm happy for you, little brother. You've finally learned to trust your heart to a woman. And it's about time! Oh, and congratulations on your marriage. I think you'll make a better husband than me, Loki. So when do I get to meet your new wife?"

"Right now," Marissa answered from the hallway. She was wearing a pretty lavender dressing gown and fuzzy sheepskin slippers. "I'm not sure if I should curtsy or just shake your hand, sir."

"A hug will do just fine, my lady," the old reprobate said, grinning. "And just call me Odin, Marissa, we're family now, you know." He hugged her gently. "May I offer you my sincerest congratulations on your new marriage?"

"Thank you, Odin. But that's not all you have to congratulate me on, brother-in-law," she said with the air of a little girl with a guilty secret. "You see, I'm pregnant."

"Already?" I gaped.

Marissa shot me a puzzled glance. "Well, a child usually follows a wedding night. Why are you so surprised, Loki?"

"Because most immortals don't conceive easily the way mortal women do, my dear," Odin informed her calmly. "That's why he looks like you've just smacked him upside the head with a hammer."

"Oh." My wife shrugged. "Guess I'm an exception then."

"In more ways than one," I said, then I grabbed her and spun her about the room. "That's the best news I've had in months, Marissa darling. Do you know when you're due?"

"Around April or thereabouts, I think." The smile she gave me lit up the whole room. "What do you think about Matthew for a boy? Or Aleta if it's a girl?"

"Whatever you like is fine with me," I said, grinning like a fool. "Give me some of that mead you've been slipping into your teacup on the sly, Odin. This calls for a drink."