Beneath
Chapter Thirty-One – Precipice
The next morning, Friday, March 26, the delays continued, with Loki's mandatory attendance at a meeting of the trauma team. Even if he ignored the fact he still hoped to have left Midgard before the actual Mass Casualty Incident drill, unannounced but scheduled for sometime next week, and the fact that if there were mass casualties – and he hadn't caused them in the first place – his priority certainly wasn't going to be providing medical treatment for the mortals, it all still seemed like a colossal waste of time. He wasn't going to be providing medical treatment even in the drill. Apparently he was going to be pretending to be unconscious in an unspecified location, hidden by fake smoke. He was mildly curious how the Midgardians made fake smoke – he knew it wouldn't be the way he did it – but other than that he could muster no interest in the meeting whatsoever this time.
Nonetheless, by the time the meeting ended, with its hands-on review of equipment and techniques, Loki realized with no small bit of irony that if he happened across an injured mortal and were so inclined, he would stand a good chance at being able to extend that mortal's life by a few years without any magic at all.
On Sunday he and the other two victims (it seemed that at the South Pole "three" counted as "mass casualties") would be told when and where to report for their accident and what symptoms to pretend to have. Dr. Ellison had asked him if he could keep a secret. He merely said yes, but could not restrain his smile as he imagined putting his answer instead in the form of transforming his clothing into something much more recognizable. Yes, he could keep a secret.
He left "Club Med," as the Midgardians apparently called their healing rooms, at around 10:00 in the morning. It was his first trip to this room, right next to the galley, and if he didn't make it off Midgard soon he'd be back to it next week strapped down to a spine board. If he needed any further motivation that would do it; he had a strong aversion to being strapped down to anything. He hadn't realized all that he was agreeing to when Jane had volunteered him to play one of the victims.
Loki hurried the few steps to the galley to pick up something to eat and drink. He'd worked through the night again and skipped breakfast to avoid Jane. There was no need to see her today; they each had their own separate tasks to accomplish now. And he wasn't interested in any further discussion along the lines of yesterday evening. Any potential benefit in it to him was far outweighed by the risk. Even more so because he was very close to not needing her anymore. He needed her to fabricate the transmitter's circuit boards, and it was convenient that she would be able to do it, given that it was the one component he was less than confident he could create himself. But as soon as he was able to confirm that he could reach Svartalfheim or at least Asgard through Yggdrasil, she would be superfluous.
He would leave her behind and forget her. He didn't need friends. Especially not the kind that had gone so far in taming "the mighty Thor," and that had distracted him with thoughts and feelings he no longer wanted to have. He hadn't responded to her implied question. And he wouldn't.
Loki shook his head as he perused the leftovers refrigerator for something with Selby's name on it. Jane was distracting him even now. He pushed her aside in his mind and turned to his plan for the day. Find something to eat – unfortunately Selby hadn't seen fit to leave him anything this time, so he turned to the leftovers the galley stored for people eating at odd hours – take it to his room, further examine the lithium polymer battery, then begin searching for materials with at least some similar properties to duplicate it from. It would be delicate work, since it needed not to simply look like the battery, but to be literally identical to the battery in function. Failing that, he thought he might be able to interweave an imperfect duplicate with his magic and let magic actively serve the function of the battery, but even that would require a thorough understanding of both the transmitter and Pathfinder's tracking and recall functions. He also wasn't sure if any of this would count as a violation of Curse Two, but even if it would, it was necessary and thus far there'd been no disastrous effects on him. And he wasn't eager to give Odin the further win of another examination of his motives. He had to do it, so it didn't matter if Odin saw it as right or wrong.
/
/
Thor wiped a hand across his forehead, smearing the splatters of mud there instead of actually getting rid of them. It had rained heavily the day before, and the field currently being used for a training exercise was slippery with loosened and worn away grass and soaked earth. The group of warriors before him, some three hundred men, stood in small clusters drinking water from skins, which younger men, many still youths, and a few young women darted around refilling. They had just practiced an offensive charge over Asgard's wall, and it still lacked the coordination that Tyr said would be necessary for the charge to be maximally effective. Dozens of horses had been given flight, but the warriors astride them had arrived too late to attack from above while the men on foot were at their most vulnerable.
They would have to run the drill again, from the start, but change some of the circumstances, because there was no way to know who might attack, in what formation, in what location, with what weapons, and the warriors needed to be prepared for any eventuality. They were running out of time to get it right. Three days remained within the two-week deadline Gullveig had pompously proclaimed. And if Asgard were attacked on the fourth, the realm's warriors needed to be ready, not tired and recovering from training injuries. This was the last day of full-scale training. Beginning tomorrow, exercises would rotate among smaller groups of warriors, while the rest ran through only light, simple drills to keep themselves primed and alert, ready to deploy wherever they were needed.
Volstagg, who was leading this group, proposed the new scenario and Thor nodded approval; Volstagg rode off to confer with the Einherjar sentry posted closest to the site of the new assault. The sentry's first alert went unheard, announced by a single note on the small enchanted ram's horn he and all of his fellows wore slung around their necks. This was a local alert, to heighten the vigilance of anyone nearby: I have seen something which may signify attack.
The second alert, two notes in short succession on the ram's horn, activated the magic wrought over the horn. Its clear voice was easily tracked to its source, and could be heard all over Asgard: We are under attack at my location.
A third option, three notes, had been planned for and explained, but never practiced. It was to be used only if drastic measures were required: Every Asgardian who is able, male or female, young or old, come immediately to this location. Announcements could be made through the horns as well – all of the commanders and many of the warriors they commanded wore rams' horns as well. This was discouraged, though, unless absolutely necessary – such as to provide information on the nature of an attack or the type of defender needed – in order to keep communications simple.
A fourth type of alert could precede or follow any of the others. It had not been practiced, but had been heard on numerous occasions within Asgard, even in Thor's lifetime, when in the past it had been used to mark the start of Thor's coronation ceremony and the beginning and ending of celebrations for the victory over Jotunheim, among other things. Kept within Heimdall's reach, it was no ordinary ram's horn. It was taken from a ram born of magic, grown large and strong. It was the length of Heimdall's arms, with two full twists in it, and had been coated in gold and etched with runic inscriptions. It could in theory be used to proclaim any significant event, but all knew that the long, low note from the Gjallarhorn now had one meaning only: We are at war.
Two notes sounded, followed by Volstagg's voice announcing the beginning of Exercise Three, so that no one mistook the alarm for an actual attack. The warriors around him, on foot, on horseback, on winged horseback, raced off in the direction of the alarm. Thor did not follow. He was to be part of a different exercise shortly, responding to the appearance of portals created by magic-wielders to mimic the portals that Svartalfheim could even now be forming to open on Asgard. A portal opened by magic may require magic to fully close it, but Thor had had some success against the open portal on Midgard by directing lightning against those trying to come through it.
He heard the rumble of a horse's hooves behind him and turned to see Hogun approaching at a rapid gallop. "How goes your task, Hogun?" Thor asked once his friend reached him and dismounted. The two clasped arms for a moment in greeting.
"Well. The Weapons Vault will remain protected."
Thor nodded his appreciation. Hogun was part of a small team designing and implementing safeguards to further enhance the already formidable defenses surrounding Asgard's most powerful treasures. It was strange working at parallels with his friends instead of side by side, and it was good to stand here with Hogun, boots sinking into mud, if only for a brief time, as it had been with Volstagg. "Volstagg is running this exercise again. Our warriors aren't used to this kind of coordinated battle."
Hogun gave a short grim nod. "Heimdall sent me to deliver a message to you. Your friend on Midgard says he has no answers, only an update. He said you would understand."
Thor considered that. He was needed here; his role in the upcoming mock battle against opened portals was critical. He didn't think he could abandon it for no more than an update, but if Tony had thought this update worth contacting him for, then he should find out what he had learned. Any visit to Tony, however, was unlikely to be brief. Tony liked to engage in irrelevant conversation even at the most inappropriate times. And then he had an idea. If anyone could go to Midgard, meet with Tony, and return again with the minimal amount of time wasted, it was the man standing silently before him.
"Can you leave your work for a short while longer, Hogun?"
"I can."
"Then I have a task for you." Thor took a long look around them and found there were no stragglers; they were alone. "I must tell you something first, something known only to myself, my mother and father, and one fellow warrior on Midgard. I must ask you to keep it secret."
Hogun merely raised an eyebrow slightly.
Thor nodded. As little as Hogun spoke, he would be unlikely to repeat anything Thor told him even if it weren't a secret at all.
/
/
A ram's horn sounded twice, followed by the announcement of an exercise. Something shimmered in the air above the edge of a forested area to the west. As Frigga watched from a balcony on the top floor of the palace, a streak of red flew past. An instant later the sky flashed with lightning which raced down to the speck of red. Her son directed the lightening as more false portals opened, some in the sky, some on the ground, and soon other warriors arrived, quickly settling into zones of attack.
Frigga turned away. She'd watched these training battles off and on all day, deep in thought. She'd spent much of the time treading and retreading the past, and even now found herself wandering back into the sitting room just outside her bedchambers to stare at the area where a tall display case of jewelry now stood, but where once a crib had been. Her first child had been born during war, and had slept in that crib for the first few months inside her bedchambers, before Odin returned home for a short time and she moved the crib into this room to make sure her husband was able to sleep at night. Her second child had been placed in that crib next to her first, on the first night of real peace in years. Her third child…her third child was gone. But he had slept there, too.
War, if Odin could not find a way to avert it, was about to begin anew. Thor was now himself preparing for war. It was inevitable, she knew. A son born to Asgard was by definition a warrior, practically speaking, even if he took up some other trade or profession. He trained for battle and stood ready and eager to enter the fray whenever needed. And her sons were not just any sons – they were Odinsons. She knew war awaited them; peace never lasted forever.
Loki had escaped this war, was probably entirely ignorant of it, and yet at the very heart of it. If the leaders of the other realms were to be believed, he was in fact the cause of it. Meant to bring peace, he had instead brought war to every single one of the Nine.
Her gaze fell on the old cushioned rocking chair she'd rocked each of her sons in. It had been repaired numerous times, and bits of it had had to be replaced, the cushions more times than she could count, but its construction was solid and she refused to get rid of it. Loki had held Baldur for the first time in that chair, and Frigga remembered like it was yesterday how he'd held him so carefully, how he'd looked at the baby with awe and adoration. He'd meant to protect him, and instead…
Frigga was never certain what Loki really meant to do. He'd said he never meant to hurt Baldur. He'd said it again and again, his face contorted in agonizing pain. But he'd also looked her right in the eye and told her he would make the Jotuns pay for their attempt on Odin's life. The attempt he'd facilitated. Loki lied. He'd done so all his life, though not always with such ill intent. Lies were an integral part of his life from his very first days. She wondered if he was born with that predilection, part of him through Jotun blood, or if he'd simply absorbed it through the lies she and Odin perpetuated. She wondered, as she did from time to time, if it was her fault.
Oh, Thor had lied, too. "No, Mother, I didn't eat any of the pie," he'd say over a blueberry pie with a missing slice marked by one jaggedly-cut side and blueberry juice on his chin. Loki was different. Loki would slice the metaphorical pie carefully, not like a child using a fork instead of knife, and there would be no sign of blueberry or cream or crumb anywhere on him. Metaphorical in his case because if he'd ever done anything like that on his own, she would never have known about it. Loki would lie, and she would believe him.
Frigga didn't love Loki any less for his imperfections. Thor was imperfect, too. He could be brash and arrogant, and as he'd grown older, his temper had developed into something fearsome that perfectly matched his ability to call thunder through Mjolnir. She loved Thor no less for it. She loved them both as they were, even though Loki's drastic, rapid descent had shattered her heart.
She feared for them both. Thor, at the front lines of a war against seven realms, and Loki, somewhere on Midgard being sought by seven realms. There was nothing she could do to protect Thor. There might be something she could do to protect Loki.
/
/
The exercise over and discussion of it concluded, Thor separated himself from the others to inform Tyr, who was tracking all of the exercises and looking for ways to improve their strategies and performance. Before he could reach the palace, however, he spotted Hogun again riding toward him.
"What news do you bring, my friend?" Thor called as soon as Hogun was in hearing range.
Hogun of course new better than to replicate Thor's eagerness and dismounted at his side before answering quietly. "Your friend continues to search, but he has not found Loki. He found one image of him, in a town called Warman, in the Saskatchewan area of Canada."
"Loki remains in Canada then? In this Saskatchewan?"
"He does not know. But the image is old, from the day after Loki was sent to Midgard. Tony said that most video cameras save their images for a few weeks at most, and since he hasn't found any other images, Loki may have left Saskatchewan. If he remains there, he has been adept at hiding himself from cameras and made one mistake. The image Tony located comes from a police camera; they keep their images longer."
"Police?" Thor asked, instantly worried. "The planet's guard force? Did you see the image? Was Loki in trouble? Was he violating some law?"
"I saw it," Hogun said with a nod. "There's no doubt it was Loki. But he was not in trouble. He was entering a building across the street from the police station. A sweet shop of some sort called Tim Horton's."
"Loki always did have a sweet tooth," Thor said absently, mulling over this information. It may have been nearly two months old, but it was the first evidence he'd had even of his brother's existence on Midgard since his father had deposited him there. He felt a strong desire to see Loki, to ensure he was all right. He wished he'd seen that image himself. "Did he look well?" he suddenly asked.
"The image was not of sufficient quality to judge."
Thor nodded. It was a ridiculous question anyway. How different could Loki have looked from when Thor had stood right next to him one day earlier? "And Stark had no further information?"
Hogun's expression changed little, but Thor had known him almost all his life and recognized the significance of even the tiniest movement of a muscle in Hogun's face.
"What? Tell me everything you learned."
"Your friend likes to talk."
"He enjoys the sound of his own voice," Thor agreed, cringing a bit on the inside for what Hogun must have had to endure. "But please, tell me what he said."
"He asked many strange questions about Asgard and about you and about my attire. And he insisted that Krispy Kreme is better than Tim Horton's, no matter what any Canadian tells you."
Thor thought that over…for half a second. "I doubt that has any relevance."
Hogun inclined his head slightly. "You asked."
"I apologize."
/
/
"We had another volunteer this morning. A Light Elf merchant who's lived here nearly a century. He has a similar story to many of the Vanir volunteers. He wants to defend Asgard, but he doesn't want to raise arms against Alfheim. When I asked about his contacts on Alfheim, it turns out he's done business with many powerful people there, including a cousin of the king. He also lived for a time on Svartalfheim. He agreed immediately to my suggestion to travel to Alfheim and plant the idea that Svartalfheim is using the other realms. I…emphasized that we believe it to be true," Bragi said, averting his gaze. "He left this afternoon. That gives us nineteen. Ten on Alfheim, nine on Vanaheim."
"King Nadrith arrives tomorrow afternoon. I will see if our secret envoys have had any effect. This latest volunteer may be too late, but his connections may indeed make him more valuable. You did well to make use of him, Bragi, especially when I know it isn't your preference," Odin said. Bragi, like Thor, found this use of deceit distasteful. But Bragi and many of the other advisors, unlike Thor, had seen the Ice War, and even the Vanir-Aesir War, and understood the gravity of what they faced.
"Were you able to meet with Gullveig?" Thor asked.
"No. He would not see me, unless it was to accede to his demands. I will try again after I see Nadrith." Odin had now spoken with all of the other leaders, but had decided to concentrate their final efforts to stop the war before it began on Alfheim and Vanaheim.
Geirmund, the supplies advisor – newly named to separate supply management from the trade advisor's normal duties – reported that those not involved in or directly supporting the training exercises were out hunting, salting and curing, harvesting early everything possible, and preparing for long-term storage of excess food. Asgard, with its relatively small land mass, received much of its food supply through trade with Vanaheim. "We may wish to consider seeking trade with Midgard, Your Majesty," the young advisor, a few years younger than Thor, said nervously.
"It is an option to keep in mind," Odin agreed. "Prepare lists of what we may request and what we may offer. Keep in mind that their realm is fractured and barely governed. Most of their people remain unaware of our existence. Work with whomever you must to also prepare plans for how we might initiate a trade request."
Geirmund nodded his assent, and Thor caught the glance that came his way. He took a sharp breath. Now would he have to deal with food supply as well? He still had doubts about Odin's methods, but if that had lessened his respect for his father at all it was easily forgotten as he watched him navigate through advisor after advisor, listening to their reports, asking questions, offering suggestions, making decisions.
"The palace, Jolgeir?" Odin asked.
"We completed the upgrades today, All-Father. Escape routes are in place, extra guards have been posted at key entry points, and layers of shielding have been placed around the entire structure, densest at the throne room, your chambers, and Prince Thor's chambers. No one will be able to enter those areas without your explicit authorization."
"This is Maeva Mordidottir's doing?" Odin asked. Maeva was the late Mordi's eldest daughter, and was now considered the most powerful master of magic in Asgard.
"It is, Your Majesty. Maeva tested her own magic against it and was unable to enter the throne room without undoing what she did, and she is confident no one else would be able to replicate that precisely enough to undo it."
"Very well," Odin said, moving on to Hogun, who reported on the enhanced security of the Weapons Vault.
First Einherjar Hergils reported that all known portals to other realms were now under constant guard, and would be sealed at nightfall on the last day before Gullveig's deadline ran out.
"Heimdall wished me to remind that Loki knew of hidden passageways between the realms," Hogun put in.
Hergils nodded. "We have been seeking them ever since Heimdall first informed me. But we have found none. And we still don't know if this was only a single passageway to Jotunheim, or multiple routes to other realms as well, or if only Loki was able to use them."
"Thor, you can think of nothing else Loki ever said on the matter?" Odin asked.
"No," he said with a shake of his head. "Nothing other than what we've already discussed." They'd also discovered a few of the otherwise forgotten portals to Vanaheim in their younger years, but those he had already noted back when they were compiling the list of all the portals between the two realms. Loki had never mentioned finding any other portals, much less using them to travel without telling anyone. Loki stopped sharing his secrets with me long ago, Thor realized. When did that happen? We used to tell each other everything…
"Could there be passageways to and from Midgard?" Sif suddenly asked. She almost sounded like she was asking herself as much as anyone else, and Thor knew it had just occurred to her. He hadn't thought of it either.
"Let us hope not," Odin said. He was the only one who didn't look surprised by Sif's question. "Is there anything further from Heimdall?"
"The other realms are training, but he has seen no signs of impending attack," Hogun answered.
Odin turned to the agricultural advisor, and Frigga, sitting at the opposite end of the table, let her thoughts wander. She did not like these meetings, but knew she needed to stay informed, since in a moment of crisis she might be called upon to speak for Asgard. She had done so regularly during the Ice War when he was away, ruling as a monarch in her own right, and once Thor came she'd often sat on Odin's throne with a crying baby in her arms, lest he be raised more by his nursemaids than by his own mother. She'd been grateful for Odin's safe return, grateful to entrust the ruling of the realm to him again, grateful to no longer have to choose between her child and her kingdom.
How we have come full circle, she thought with uncharacteristic bitterness that she tried to swallow away.
Odin thought he knew the enchantment on the gem she had given Loki; he thought it was the same simple necklace he'd given her the day after bringing Loki home. Simple magic, with a simple message: I love you. Odin had never really been good at expressing his feelings, but this necklace, which glowed against her skin every time he thought of her with love, told her everything she needed to know about what he felt for her and for their children. In her mind, it bound their new family together as they learned how to simply be a family, for before the Ice War it had only been her and Odin, and after it, they were a family of four.
Odin thought he knew the enchantment on the gem, and had told Thor that it could not be used to find Loki. He was wrong. Magic was no more than manipulation of energy, of the energy that formed and surrounded all things. Such manipulation of energy could be tracked. If it was strong enough. If one knew what to look for. It was. And Frigga knew.
Her eyes fell on Thor, listening attentively to everything going on around him, a severe expression on his face. Suddenly she missed hearing his laughter. She hadn't heard it in such a long time. Perhaps not since the day of his intended coronation.
She couldn't tell Odin what she'd done; was deception in her blood, too? He would be angry, because she'd gone behind his back. And if things on Asgard got too bad, if it looked as though all would be lost…Odin would be forced to do what he must, to sacrifice Loki. The realm eternal would survive. Their family would not.
She wondered, though, as she had ever since he asked about it, if she could tell Thor. She wanted to. Badly. What if some danger approached Loki, and he were completely unaware of it, and left with no time to react, no time to employ the modified necklace she gave him? Wouldn't it be good to know where Loki was, so Thor could go protect him, rescue him even, if needed? But she didn't think she could bring herself to put Thor in that position either. Because Thor was destined to be a king, one day not too distant, and Thor would have to be a king first, too, before being a husband and father himself, when that day came. Before being a son. Before being a brother.
When the meeting finally ended, Frigga approached Thor, standing with Sif and the Warriors Three.
"I've heard the taverns are all closed," Fandrall was saying.
"Nonsense. Tens of thousands of warriors were out doing battle today. There isn't a tavern in the realm that won't be open tonight filling their plates and their tankards," Vollstag said.
"Weren't you listening?" Sif asked. "Someone has to be there to actually work in the tavern. Everyone's busy with preparations right now."
Frigga stepped in before Vollstag could respond. "Thor, I would speak with you."
"Of course, Mother," Thor said, stepping away as the others bowed their heads in respect.
She led him away, all the way to the back wall; everyone else either remained clustered near the long table or had already departed through one of the doors on the opposite wall.
"What is it?" Thor prompted when his mother said nothing. He glanced over at his friends. He was anxious to join them again and head out to a tavern to unwind for a little while; if none were open, he knew a couple of tavern owners who would surely be willing to unlock their doors for him and his friends.
"You must keep this in confidence. Can you?"
Thor watched her questioningly. Finally he nodded.
"If it becomes necessary, absolutely necessary…if Loki is in danger and you need to go to him…I may know a way to help your friend quickly find him."
"What?" he asked in surprise. "Mother, if you know-"
"That's all I will say on it, Thor. You will come to me to hear the rest only if you must. And until then we will not speak of it again. Understood?"
"Yes, Mother," Thor answered.
She took his hand, squeezed it, then released it and walked away. Thor watched her as she left the room, wondering what she knew that he did not.
/
/
Loki saw Jane for the first time all day at dinner that night in the galley. She was sitting with yet another person he'd never seen her with before – did she now plan to make everyone here her best friend? Perhaps she offers to contact everyone's mother for them, he thought with a sneer. Belittling Jane's offer made him feel slightly better about that whole conversation. Less like she'd somehow gotten to him.
He put together a plate of food – this time some kind of fish called "sole," which he hoped didn't taste like its name – and tried to sit elsewhere, but Jane called him over. Reluctantly he joined the two women.
"Lucas, do you know Mari?"
"I'm sorry, I haven't had the pleasure," he said. He recognized her, actually, but had never gotten her name. She worked in the kitchen, which he thought must be one of the least pleasant jobs here. This woman had to wash dishes six days per week.
"Mari Koppel, Lucas Cane," Jane said. "Mari's one of our cooks. She's from New York. Lucas is working with me on a research project out here. He's in grad school at the University of Toronto."
Loki ran though basic pleasantries with minimal attention; he'd been actively trained in such things and it came rather naturally to him anyway. If this was the route Jane insisted on going, he could follow her on it, as long as the destination remained the same. Meanwhile, he found himself surreptitiously studying this Mari Koppel from New York. Short wavy blond hair, blue eyes, expressive face, a little taller than Jane and a little heavier. For all he knew, he could have seen her there. She could have seen him. If she had, she obviously didn't recognize him. And he probably hadn't seen her, either.
In the beginning, he'd found it fascinating, what happened far beneath him. Little figures running here and there, cars abandoned and bringing traffic to a standstill, sirens flashing…everything was so different from Asgard. It was like a game. A game which he controlled, whose rules he wrote and rewrote. He'd never seen any of the faces of the miniature players down below. The only players who earned his attention were those who stood in his way.
"Will you join us, Lucas?" Mari was asking.
He breathed in slowly, then took a bite of fish, allowing himself a moment to recall what he was being asked to join. He'd wound up with plans to be restrained to a spine board the last time he agreed to something without paying attention. A movie. She'd asked him to watch a movie tonight. He knew what they were, more or less, but hadn't really seen one, only video security feeds and short informational videos.
"Ah, I don't-"
"Have you seen it?" Mari asked.
"He's a hockey fan, he's seen it. Oh, wait, he's a Canadian hockey fan, maybe not," Jane teased.
"Why wouldn't I have seen it because I'm a Canadian hockey fan?" Lucas asked, imitating the way she'd pronounced his supposed home country.
"You haven't even heard of it? It's about the US versus the Soviet Union in the 1980 Olympics," she answered.
She may as well have been speaking in code. "The US" he was relatively certain was the United States, but he'd never heard of the Soviet Union or the Olympics. He tried to politely refuse, but Jane enticed him by saying they would catch each other up on the day's progress afterward. He suspected she did it on purpose, and resented being manipulated by her instead of the other way around.
Before dinner was over he'd figured out everything he hadn't understood before; Mari's grandparents had been born in Estonia, then part of the Soviet Union, a country which no longer existed. Much of this union's territory remained in a country called Russia, and that one he'd heard of. Apparently these two countries used to be at war with each other, a "cold war," but that term was never explained; his only similar term of reference was the Ice War. He gathered that the hockey game was a metaphor for the war, but found the entire concept rather bizarre. Asgard and Jotunheim had certainly never engaged in sporting matches while they'd been at war, not that he'd ever heard of anyway, and neither had they done so since. It would likely result in a bloodbath.
Mari informed him that he would have to wear something sports-themed to the movie. Before he could try to get out of that one he remembered the horse hat Mohsin had given him – he'd already worn it once, it wouldn't do any further harm to his pride to wear it again, and it would nip in the bud a guaranteed conversation in which Jane and Mari tried to get him to wear something borrowed from someone else.
They split up after dinner to change for the movie; all Loki needed to do was pull the white Melfort Mustangs hat with its hockey stick-holding horse dressed in white, green, and blue on over his head to be ready, so he took a few minutes to survey the materials he'd collected on his latest round of Hidden Treasure. Jane had been right; this type of battery was not yet commercially available. He'd researched it in the early afternoon on the internet. But he'd gathered plastics and various other types of lithium batteries, and he was eager to begin trying to reform them to his needs. He let his eyes drift closed for a moment. He was so tired. He could barely concentrate. Tonight he would have to sleep. Tomorrow he would be refreshed, ready to create exactly what was needed to get him off this planet.
Loki waited a few more minutes, staring absently at his finds, then grabbed his hat from the back of the shelf in his wardrobe and put it on. He headed downstairs and through the wide main corridor to the B3 lounge at the other end of the station, the first room he'd seen here, where he, Jane, Rodrigo, and the disappearing Gillian had been given a lecture and shown a short video as introduction to the South Pole. He hadn't been back here since.
Some fifteen people had already gathered, including Jane in her faded orange Caltech T-shirt and Mari in a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants with a "New York Knicks" insignia. Wright was there, too, but none of the other scientists that Loki knew were present. All the seating was full, so Loki was forced to join a few others on the floor. The floor he didn't mind so much; he did mind the occasional leg or foot that bumped into him.
As the movie got underway, Loki found himself enjoying it much more than he expected. It helped that he had seen this game played and understood its basics, and he was intrigued that it was based on actual events in Midgard's history. There was really nothing like this on Asgard, where such play-acting was considered the domain of children and youths; he'd enjoyed it then, but thought little of it since. It was rather impressive when done professionally by adults. He quickly went from interested to engrossed, even relating to certain moments, such as when the trainer pushed the young hockey players so hard that some of them vomited. Tyr had made him vomit more than once.
He was narrowing his eyes at some cultural reference he'd failed to grasp when he felt the weight of a stare. He looked to his left and saw it was Jane. She gave a quick smile then turned back to the large television screen.
At the end of the movie, as the American team got their "miracle" per the movie's title, Loki couldn't help a rush of pleasure for the enthusiastic young men, having accomplished what no one thought they could, against seemingly impossible odds. He shook his head and pushed aside the emotion, manufactured as it was by the movie and its swelling music. He could hear someone behind him actually crying. Regardless of any attached sentiment, the movie intended to teach a lesson, he thought: Work hard and you can achieve your goals. It was a lesson he could appreciate. Perhaps if he'd worked harder, he would have achieved his goal on Midgard and all these people would be kneeling to him right now instead of bumping into him as they stood from their seats. The thought made him laugh. Perhaps that overconfident SHIELD man he'd killed was right after all, perhaps he'd lacked conviction. That thought made the laughter die on his lips.
He felt that stare again and turned to see Jane standing to his left, watching him. He untangled his legs and stood, closing the distance between them with a few steps. "What?" he asked.
"It's nothing."
"When I say that you pry incessantly until I answer."
Jane rolled her eyes. "Fine. But really, it's nothing. It's just…you look…different, somehow. With that hat on."
Loki tried to swallow but found his throat uncooperative. "Different?"
"Yeah, well…" She trailed off; Loki thought she looked uncomfortable. "I've never seen you with a baseball cap on. It's just…strange. That's all."
Loki grabbed the part that stuck out in front and jerked the thing off his head with his left hand, automatically running his right hand through his hair to smooth it. "How's that?" he asked quickly, hoping his voice sounded normal.
Jane grinned. "I didn't say it looked bad. Just strange. Come on, let's go talk shop for a few minutes."
Loki followed her out, all his concentration on slowing his heart rate back to normal.
/
Thank you sooooo much for the reviews, I have no idea why this chapter tumbled out in two days but the one after it that I just finished writing was like pulling teeth at times to get the words on paper (which has happened before, but I really didn't expect it this time). Especially the last few reviews that came in, just because of the timing, they were such an encouragement - and I'm so sad I can't respond to any of them! Please know that I'm thankful for every single review, whether I can directly tell you or not. Guest (2/3, on Ch.6, when you get here!), I'm so psyched someone finally mentioned knowing Melfort on here! And good timing as it makes a recurring mention in this chapter. Rogue, and everyone, I'm very committed to finishing this. I write every single day without fail, my rule is I cannot go to bed without writing in it even if it's only a sentence. And the thing is if you can get a sentence out, you can generally get much more out. And everyone, again, thank you, for reviewing, for reading, for joining me on this ride.
I hope you didn't groan *too* much at Krispy Kreme vs. Tim Horton's. For those who've lived or spent enough time in both countries, or maybe just live in border areas, it is in fact a common debate...and I figured Tony wouldn't have been able to stop himself from asserting his preference. I'm not so much of a doughnut gal, but if I had one I'd go for a fresh hot one from Krispy Kreme. If I had to choose a favorite item overall though, I'd go for Tim Horton's apple scone...mmmmmmm. BTW...you can Google-map that Tim Horton's in Warman. Police station across the street. What did we do before the internet?
Previews for "Ch. 32: Countdown" - Loki has another nightmare that's not entirely from his own mind; we meet Alfheim's king and, um, his argument almost convinces *me*; Thor gets a little testy with Alfheim's king; Jane continues getting more involved in station social life but Loki's not entirely willing to go along with it; and, of course, progress is made toward Loki's goal.
And excerpt (Odin, first, speaking with Alfheim's King Nadrith):
"[...]There is no more risk."
"You didn't foresee Loki being a risk, though, did you? What is it that you do not foresee now? Why is the tesseract of such great importance to you, anyway? You were without this relic for a millennium. Why must you cling to it now? Is it solely your pride? And the Jotuns, do they not deserve to have their own Casket returned to them? Have not a thousand years of deprivation and now near extermination earned them the right? Does your son not deserve to be punished by those whom he has wronged instead of by the father whose heart is soft with love for him?"