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Chapter Eleven
"A number of matters," the Allfather answered. Seemingly unconcerned by the scene taking place in the background, Odin was a politician to the bone. "But first," he flicked a hand towards the formerly battling pair, nonchalance ruined by the fact he had to immediately grab for his saddle horn as Sleipnir bucked. "Release him."
Loki just smiled, the expression half shark, half tiger, and all trickster. "And why," he questioned. "Should I do that?" Comfortably settling himself against a conveniently placed wall, the god of mischief began to bounce his daughter on one knee, causing her to giggle. She didn't know who this strange man was, but he couldn't be too bad if Momma wasn't worried.
Odin nearly flinched. "He is your brother." He to knew which son would walk away if it ever came down to a true fight between the them. Hint, it wouldn't be Thor.
"So?" The royal house of Asgard had never been overly concerned with blood ties before. At least not from Loki's perspective. However, green eyes flicked to his adoptive brother briefly before returning. "But perhaps," he continued. "We could make a deal of some sort."
Now the Allfather did scowl. "The throne of Asgard," he announced loftily. "Does not bargain with our enemies over such matters. You know that my son." That policy had been put in place long before he had become king, when his grandfather's sister had been stolen out of her cradle. It hadn't taken the other realms long to find out the golden city was serious about it. Many of them putting similar policies into place.
"Ah," the younger man turned Ariana to face her grandfather. "But this is not so much a negotiation as a trade," his smile vanished entirely. "Your son, for my daughter." For a moment, no one moved, no one spoke. The air itself seeming to thicken as a pair of emerald eyes bored into a single blue one.
"She is dangerous."
At those words Loki nearly snapped. "Who isn't?" the sorcerer shot back. He didn't see anyone suggesting they chain Thor down somewhere, and the blond had caused more damage in his stupidity than his canine son ever had. But then, his brother wasn't a monster. That was the sticking point, wasn't it?
It was Thor's choked off cry of pain that finally broke the stalemate, one of his ribs giving way beneath the pressure.
Odin gritted his teeth. "Very well," he snapped at last. "But the girl is never to set foot in Asgard. She is banished, on pain of death." If he could not control the creature he would at least insure she never threatened the realm eternal.
At this point Loki had to wonder two things. One, had any member of his so-called family even bothered to learn his daughter's name? And two, why would Ariana ever want to go to Asgard? However, he said none of it.
"Not good enough," Loki told the other. "I want your word, thrice sworn," and he didn't care if the Allfather was offended by his request, not with his youngest child's safety on the line. If the Aesir ever came for Ariana again, he would denounce Odin before all the nine realms as an oath-breaker.
What could he do really? The Allfather gave the oath, making sure to phrase it so it was only valid upon Thor's release and safe return. After all, he knew his younger son well. Knew the tricks and turns of that cunning, ever moving mind of his.
Besides which, in spite of what the majority of Asgard believed, out of all his children, it was Loki who was the most like him, not Thor, not Balder. Loki. In fact, Odin reflected for a moment before dismissing the notion to the back of his mind. That may be the reason why he was always so ready to mistrust his adoptive son's words.
The moment the final words were spoken, the world serpent gently placed his uncle on the deck, scales taking on a greenish light as his form shimmered. When the glow faded, a man stood at Thor's side, supporting him. He looked very like Loki, tall and slender with long dark hair. But his skin was paler, so white it was almost blue, exotically tilted eyes a shade closer to gold than emerald.
Jaw dropping, the god of thunder stared at the man he now knew to be his nephew. "Jormungandr? I," he stuttered, facts rearranging themselves in his mind. "I didn't know."
The other's expression didn't change an iota. "You mean," Jor hissed, his words perfectly understandable despite the serpentine accent. "That you did not wish to know." None of the Aesir had. Given Loki's talents at shape-shifting, was it truly so surprising his children had inherited a portion of his gifts? He released the other, stepping back. "Now go," he ordered pointing at the Allfather. "You are no longer welcome here."
Thor could only nod, a frown taking up residence on his features. He had much to think about. Then he winced, catching the looks of men and woman who had fought at his side. And many amends to make, not only on Midgard.
Eye of the Beholder
Whew, drags hand across forehead
That was a tough one to get out.
Just the epilogue to go now.