Chapter Nine

Many Meetings

The painting was a riot of colour: rich scarlets blending into luxurious blues, warm yellows and striking greys. It depicted a dance of violence, a conflict long passed into myth and legend. When she had decided to visit the great art gallery of the Asgardian citadel, Alex had almost expected to see rough hewn inscriptions of a Viking nature. She did not expect neo-classical murals stretching across metres of wall space. Each paint stroke was deliberate, each dot of colour adding depth to the already glorious scene. Of the neat Asgardian runes at its base, Alex could pick only four words: Battle. Glorious. Odin. Laufey.

Laufey. If the rumours were true (and she had not the courage to ask) the cobalt hued beast of a 'man' depicted in the mural was Loki's father. The residents of Asgard called him a monster, but Alex could not help but feel that this was a judgement made in the aftermath of war. Laufey had attacked Midgard, but not before the Asgardian forces had threatened the outer reaches of Jotunn territory. He was a king doing what he thought best for his people.

No, the true monster was Loki.

Alex moved away from the mural, her heeled work-issue boots clicking against the polished boards of the floor. Like all architecture close to Odin's palace, the art gallery was a gaudy structure wrought of gold. High arches spanned the ceiling, in dispersed by windows that allowed the golden sun to illuminate the paintings within. Often she would ponder what her people would do if they were to visit Asgard. Gold was such a rare commodity on Midgard. She remembered hearing that it was formed in the final moments of a star's life: more specifically, a red giant. In all of human history, the earth had surrendered only enough gold to fill three Olympic swimming pools. Three times that amount would have been used to construct the art gallery alone.

No, it was probably best that the wider population of Midgard never found out about Asgard. Immortal or not, the population of the eternal realm would never be able to withstand an attack from the resource hungry armies of Earth.

Stepping beneath a lumbering archway decorated with vines of gold and silver, Alex found herself in the hall housing the portraits of the royal family. The paintings themselves were monumental, easily several metres high. Odin was central, flanked by equally as stunning depictions of Frigga and Thor. They were a family as golden as the walls upon which their portraits were hung, yet Alex could not help but let her gaze linger on the empty patch of wall by Thor's side. Another monolithic painting leaned against this wall, a simple white sheet hiding its subject.

"My husband believes it is for the best, but it pains me to see my son covered."

Alex gasped audibly, turning on her heel. She had had very little contact with the queen, yet now here she stood, resplendent in a simple gown of white. Awkwardly she knelt, but Frigga held up her hand. "You do not need to kneel before me, Agent Beckett."

Alex almost cocked an eyebrow. A sentiment not shared by your son, your majesty. Nevertheless, she nodded. Frigga was a woman who demanded reverence, whether she asked for it or not. The queen swept across the hall, drawing the sheet away from the discarded portrait. Even in portrait form, Loki stood apart from his adoptive family. He had been painted in full armour, the gold of his horned helm a prominent feature. But what drew Alex's gaze was the glint in his green eyes, the mischievous grin curling his lips. This was a painting of the God of Mischief, not the traitor prince, the enemy of Midgard, the son of Laufey.

"An image captured during lighter times," the queen reflected sadly. There were tears glinting in her pale eyes, and had she been anyone but the queen, Alex would have draped an arm around her shoulder in comfort.

Alex found she was unable to look away. "He looks so young."

"The past year has aged my son a thousand cycles. He was always one for trouble, but..."

"Now he is a murderous psychopath?" Alex was not exactly sure what made her say this. It was foolish, not to mention downright disrespectful. Oddly enough, the look Frigga gave her was not one of anger, but rather something Alex could not quite pinpoint.

"We all do things we come to regret, Alexandra."

Alex felt the colour drain from her face. How could nine words say so much? The queen knew. How could she know? As though reading Alex's mind, Frigga shot her a soft smile.

"I frequently visit the palace library in the evening. I find you often see more than you expect."

"But-"

"The All-Father has decreed that none shall see Loki, but once something is seen it cannot be unseen. In the end, it is a choice we make." Frigga's fingers weaved within Alex's, a strangely comforting gesture. "My son always likes to think he is in control, Alexandra, but remember it is you who holds the power here."

Her words were unexpected, and Alex found she was unable to reply. It was a two pronged warning. On the one hand, the queen was warning her of the dangers of getting too involved with Loki. This Alex already knew. The other was the most profound: a clear, motherly shriek of do not hurt my son!

The queen moved away, heading back toward the archway.

"You will not tell Thor? The All-Father?"

Frigga turned, the eerie smile still on her face. "I do not believe they would be as understanding as I," she nodded. "I will leave this up to you."

And with that she was gone.

oOoOoOo

It is you who holds the power here.

As Alexandra continued her exploration of the art gallery, she could not help but reflect upon the queen's words. Power was not usually a word she associated with herself. It was not that she was a weak-willed hussy who allowed others to control every iota of her life. She had always grappled to maintain an inkling of independence. But on a similar note: the most important aspects of her life had been dictated by someone else.

Lucas Malory had used a promotion to control her.

Her father used his influence to make sure she studied law, rather than fine arts.

Her mission to Asgard, while a result of these manipulations, was one of the few things she felt she truly achieved on her own. It was she who impressed Nick Fury, she who had gained the respect of the royal family enough to be allowed accommodation for a year. True enough, Fury wanted her to act as spy, but not under the duress of family influence or because he wanted her in his bed.

This is where Frigga's words seemed to come unstuck to Alex. Any power she gained through her new found freedom in Asgard was compromised by Loki. He held something over her head and he used it. He was her father, her brothers, her lovers and Malory all rolled into one handsome package. How did she have the power?

Pushing this thought aside, Alex shot a timid wave toward the terrifyingly stern curator, before venturing into the Asgardian heat. Her mind wandered longingly toward the thin, comfortable gowns provided for her by the royal family, but she knew she had to remain in uniform. It would not do to introduce herself to Jane Foster looking as though she were turning native. The woman may be on the outside, but she and Eric Selvig were still employees of S.H.I.E.L.D. In a sense, Alex was a little nervous about meeting Jane. Not because the woman intimidated her, but rather because if Thor's wishes came true, she would be the future queen of Asgard. The nerves were not necessarily for herself, but rather for the unsuspecting woman who would be arriving at the observatory within the next thirty minutes.

Alex met Thor at the stables. The prince, despite his regal armour, looked as fresh as a green warrior, faced with his first battle. Periwinkle eyes were wide, lips pressed in a straight line.

"You'll be right," Alex smiled, hoping that the archetypal Australian statement would calm Thor's nerves a little. He did not smile, but nodded, mounting his horse with ease. Alex was mildly terrified of the steed she was presented with, a huge black beast by the name of Arthuros. According to the stable hand, Arthuros had once belonged to Loki, and Alex had been the first he had taken a liking to since Loki's punishment.

Like horse like rider, Alex thought idly, trying to ignore the niggling feeling that Arthuros might throw her into the surging seas below the rainbow bridge. She had ridden the horse a handful of times around Asgard, but there was just something about the bridge that put her on edge.

Thor, as though noting her apprehension shot her a light look. "You'll be right."

The ride to the observatory lacked drama. Arthuros, it appeared, truly did like her and did not wish to be responsible for her imminent death. Both horses returned riderless, for the entourage would make their way back to the palace by foot.

The past three weeks had seen a great deal of change to the observatory. The capsule enclosing the Tesseract had been rendered into something Heimdall was capable of using. The once skeletal structure was now clad in glass and steel.

Alex could not help but gasp as the Tesseract opened the gateway to the rainbow bridge. It was more beautiful than she ever could have imagined, yet another example of how the Asgardians managed to mingle functionality with aesthetics. Within seconds, a clump of people appeared in the flashing globules of light.

She recognised Eric Selvig instantly, having been present at his interrogation after Loki's short-lived reign on earth. The man looked healthier than he had then, his pale hair thicker, cheeks plumper. She shot him a smile, only to be almost knocked down by a tall, slim brunette who jumped immediately into Thor's arms.

The shorter brunette at Selvig's side snorted. "Well, that's awkward."

Selvig merely smiled, holding his hand out to Alex. "It is nice to see you again, Agent Beckett. This," he pointed with his thumb, "is Darcy Lewis."

"Which she couldn't figure out for herself by the fact that I am not currently eating Thor's face." Darcy held out her hand too, and Alex could not help but smile as she shook it. Despite the younger woman's affinity for ill-fitting clothing, Alex could not help but notice that she was ridiculously pretty. As was Jane Foster, who had finally let go of Thor.

"Sorry about that," the astrophysicist said sheepishly, "I am not usually that rude." She held out her hand. "You must be Alex Beckett. Thor has told me so much about you."

"He has?"

Thor nodded happily, leading the group out of the observatory. Darcy gaped at the gold-clad figure of Heimdall, gaping more as her periwinkle eyes fell on Asgard.

"Fuck me, that is a lot of gold."

Alex snorted. "Pretty much my reaction when I first came here."

"Seriously? Is everything here gold? I mean, are the toilets gold?" Darcy's train of thought was evidently travelling a thousand kilometres per minute. "They do have toilets here right? I mean, do Asgardians need to pee? We don't have to carry everything home in a little bag, do we, like when you go camping?"

Alex was now laughing. "Yeah, they have toilets... and yes, they are made of gold. It's awkward at first, but you get over it."

"Do you think they'll mind if I souvenir a toilet sea-"

"Darcy!" Selvig's voice cut over the roar of the waves below. Darcy shrugged sheepishly, eyes wide as she observed the surroundings.

"Shit me! This bridge is, like, completely neon!"

Before Selvig could interject with another strained "Darcy", Alex leant closer to the young brunette. "I'll bring you back here tonight. If you lie on the bridge you can feel the light moving inside."

Darcy grinned. "Awesome."

The group moved along the bridge in relatively silence after this, occasionally broken by one of Darcy's broad observations. Alex allowed her mind to wander back to the last time she had lain on the bridge, the first time Loki had come to her. She wondered momentarily if he would have done so had she not been present on the bridge. Was it a completely random meeting, or had he intentionally sought her out?

"So, tour guide. As part of our tour, do we get to see Thor's bro?" Darcy asked as they reached the base of the bridge.

Alex frowned. "His bro?"

"Loki. Is it true that his lips are sewn shut? That shit's brutal."

"Yup. We actually have to walk through his courtyard to get to the palace." Alex pointed to the patch of green in the distance.

"Is he as hot as he is in the pictures?" Darcy appeared to be a relentless question machine. Alex suspected this may have been due to her political science background. Her voice was a low murmur now, no doubt aware that Selvig nurtured some pretty negative feelings toward the God of Mischief.

Alex shrugged. "He's very attractive I suppose. Everyone in Asgard is ridiculously hot though." More than anything she hoped her voice was nonchalant. The last thing she needed was for the notably savvy Darcy to start suspecting something about Alex's involvement with Loki. Hell, it was bad enough that Frigga knew.

The courtyard was empty when they arrived. It seemed as though the residents of Asgard had grown tired of the imprisoned prince. There were only so many times one could throw rotten fruit or excrement at a tied man before it became dull. Upon noting the pale figure of Loki, Selvig's features grew harsh. The glint in his eye made it clear that if he encountered Loki in the corridors, he would not obey Odin's wish of ignorance. In fact, Alex could imagine the older man seeking Loki out for retribution.

Even chained with his lips sewn shut, Loki was striking to look upon, a fact evidently not lost on Darcy. "Is it sick that I am kinda turned on by this?"

Alex smirked. "Wait till you get closer. The smell is enough to turn you off."

It was clear Loki had heard her, for his eyes narrowed as they walked by.