Beneath
Chapter Fifty-Three – Change
"Jolgeir, glad to see you're up already. How is your recovery coming along?" a tall broad-shouldered Einherjar with flaming red hair asked as he entered the room, the door swinging closed behind him.
"I still rise early, and I get stronger every day. And you, Huskol? Are you finding your way in my old position?"
While Huskol answered, Loki took note of the fact that Jolgeir had just informed him that this man who was only vaguely familiar was the new Chief Palace Einherjar, and would thus be a particularly formidable opponent if this did not go well.
"What happened here!" Huskol exclaimed, now headed right toward Loki, who backed away, keeping the knife tight in his grip, regretting that if he needed to use it he would have to do so left-handed.
"It's nothing. Sibba was trimming my beard and she nicked me. It just started bleeding again."
Jolgeir sounded a little defensive, and his intonation was a little off – to Loki the lie was evident, but he supposed to Huskol it simply seemed that Jolgeir was embarrassed that his wife had tended to his beard. He watched as Huskol went to the other side of the bed, retrieved some bandages from a drawer, and pressed one to Jolgeir's neck. Loki wasn't concerned; the cut was little more than a scratch, well in line with the lie. He was bothered that he'd done that in the first place, that a rush of power had accompanied it. Jolgeir had done no worse than anyone else, and what use was there in killing someone who lacked any ability to fight back? He could hear Thor lecturing him about fighting with honor, face-to-face, hand-to-hand, worthy opponents and so on and so on. It was easy to fight with honor when you got to make the rules for exactly what that meant. But Loki hadn't worried about honor in a long time, not Thor's version of it, anyway. He could have done worse here; he had shown restraint in the end.
He was more worried about Huskol realizing they weren't alone.
"The queen would like you to join us tonight for a council, if you can."
"I can, with some assistance. But…why me?"
"Because of who came to see you. She wants to see if we can figure out more about Loki's role. And some Dark Elf he's friends with."
Loki's eyes fell shut. Vigdis. So they've talked to Vigdis, and of course she told them about Brokk. And they know of my connection to him. They may know I was seen on Svartalfheim. You should have kept your mouth shut! he chastised himself. He'd tried to help, and instead handed over what would appear to be evidence against himself on a silver platter. And now even his mother believed him to be involved in this whole plot.
"Brokk? He's a part of this?"
"That's his name, right."
"Brokk…that doesn't surprise me. He's completely amoral. But Loki…I'm sure he has his reasons for what he's doing. He deserves a chance to speak in his own defense before we jump to conclusions."
Huskol nodded. "And when we capture him, we'll give him every opportunity," he said darkly. "Vigdis is being held a few doors down from here. Her guards are keeping an eye out, in case he shows up back here."
"Mm, I see. Huskol…it's a little warm in here. Could you go prop open the door? Let a little more air circulate?"
"Of course," Huskol said, while Loki stared hard at Jolgeir.
You've already jumped to conclusions if you think I have any need to defend myself. Loki couldn't fathom how that could be the case yet Jolgeir was letting him escape, which was clearly what that open door meant. Huskol would have heard the squeaky hinge, too, if Loki tried to get out on his own. He slipped out into the corridor. He wouldn't be coming back.
/
/
Jane sat baking on the bifrost. Extreme Cold Weather gear was meant for…extreme cold weather. Not sunny afternoons where the temperature was probably around 70. She wasn't used to such heat anymore, and would have been baking even without being dressed for -100, she thought. She felt like she was swimming in her own sweat, and was grateful at least that she'd braved the short period outside between the jamesway entrance and Pathfinder without her balaclava or hat. Saved by a moment of vanity. It seemed silly and childish now, but she hadn't wanted Thor to see her like that, so completely covered up that she was unrecognizable. And in the half second's thought she'd given to it, she'd further justified it with the idea that with her face covered up like a bank robber, if she encountered some random Asgardian before she managed to get all that stuff off, they might shoot first and ask questions later. Or stab first, as the case may be.
There were no Asgardians here. There was nothing here. She couldn't even see Asgard, hidden behind the gate she was tethered to. The early morning sky, the bridge beneath her, fast-flowing water leading to the top of a raging waterfall, the bridge, the towering gate itself were all that was visible to her. The steadily rising sun with the darkness of space somehow visible beyond the end of the bridge was something to behold, but she took no pleasure in it. It was only going to get warmer. The sun would rise on her and all of Asgard…and none of Asgard would ever even know they were sharing their sun today with one woman from Earth trapped on their bridge.
Thor was out there fighting, injured but healed. So close, so unbelievably close, laughably close in some ironic sense, yet far enough away to be out of reach, completely ignorant of her presence in his world. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were out there somewhere too, probably also fighting. Yet even if they just happened to take a walk along Asgard's sidewalk-to-nowhere, as Loki had put it, they wouldn't see or hear her. She was alone. She'd felt that way many times at the South Pole, mostly because of how successfully Loki had isolated her from everyone but him. But here…this gave new meaning to the word "alone." Jane hated feeling alone, had ever since returning to her home for the first time after her parents had been killed.
Time dragged on. She wasn't sure how much time had passed; after her watch battery died she hadn't looked into replacing it. She wondered how long Loki would be gone. What did he say? "Things to do?" He always answered her questions with questions, lies, vagaries, half-truths. He'd never really explained himself about anything. Not truthfully, anyway.
She looked down at her right wrist, and tried again to tug at it. It was sweaty enough, but she couldn't get that metal band over her thumb. On TV, people break their thumbs to get out of handcuffs. Jane shuddered. She was going to have to get a lot more desperate before she could even contemplate such a thing.
She got on her knees and crept to her left and then her right as far she could, trying to no avail to see around the gate and the door that was open toward her.
"I assure you that I can hear you." "Loki?" she said out loud, as soon as the thought occurred to her. A minute later she tried again, shouting as loudly as she could. "Come back here!" she added.
Of course he didn't come. "It was worth a try," she grumbled under her breath.
And then a new thought occurred to her: He took the transmitter. What if he doesn't come back? Her eyes went wide and the pressure grew on her chest, under thermal underwear, a long-sleeved T-shirt, a flannel button-down, Carhartt overalls, a sweater, and an unzipped Big Red. No one else would ever find her here, if what Loki said was true. If he left her here for good, she would die of dehydration. And it wouldn't even take all that long, she thought, conscious of the pools of sweat dripping off her. Perhaps she wouldn't even last through nightfall. Someday someone would trip over her dead invisible body, but they wouldn't know who she was, and no one on Earth would ever know what had become of her. Erik would never know. He would sicken himself with worry…
She pressed her chest in close to her hands; she began struggling with the buttons on her overalls – they were stiff, for she usually just shrugged into and out of the shoulder straps – and it was very slow going, with her maneuverability limited, particularly in her right hand.
What if it was all some elaborate trick? Tell her Thor was hurt. Convince her it was safe to come here. Shackle her up to die of exposure. The enchantment that protected her wouldn't touch him. Loki wasn't killing her; the heat would eventually do that job for him.
"I don't need you anymore," he'd told her when he came back from Asgard. So she was expendable. And she'd threatened him.
"Two words: Sattelite. Phone." If Loki wanted to get rid of her, this was the perfect way to do it. He could go back to the station and he would no longer have to worry about anyone revealing who he really was. She worked independently, and hadn't been back on the social scene long enough for her absence at gatherings to be deemed odd.
She looked at her wrist again; she'd only managed to get one button on the Carhartts undone. Thought about those people on TV shows. Gave a tug and didn't stop as the pressure of the band on her bones grew and grew. She squeezed her eyes shut and when the pain suddenly spiked, she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and stopped. She looked at her hand. It was red from the pressure of the gold band and surely soon to be ringed in a motley-colored bruise, but nothing was broken, and her hand still wasn't going anywhere. She gave up on the Carhartts and went to work on the buttons to the flannel underneath.
A drop of sweat managed to get directly in her eye; she winced and rubbed her eyes, then bent to wipe a palm across her brow. With the brush of a slight breeze, she remembered like it was yesterday standing in the cool evening air in Sydney, excited to see the Southern Cross for the first time. Now she gazed out over a sky with a sun, two moons, and swirls of distant galaxies for which she did not even know names. Jane sank back down all the way to the ground and leaned against the gate. "You're such a dreamer, Jane," her mother used to say with a smile of fond bemusement. My dream came true, Mom.
Jane let her eyes flutter closed.
Wait. What is this? Her eyes popped open again. Giving up, that's what this is. She heard Erik's voice: "I'm so proud of you…for never giving up…"
She looked down at herself – she was wearing so much clothing. It would take her all day to try get out of even some of it, trapped in this awkward position with her hands shackled. TV people. Right. How bad can it be? They have really good doctors here. I'm sure they can fix broken bones…on an invisible person… Jane looked at her hands, held up at shoulder height, yet again. The skin already looked chafed and reddened. She steeled herself for it. This time she would pull as hard as she could, left hand wrapped around right wrist for extra leverage, and not stop no matter how badly it hurt until her hand was free. She closed her eyes again. Looking wouldn't help. She would know she was free when momentum made her fall over backward.
"Let's go."
Jane nodded and started to pull.
"What are you doing? I told you to stop that," Loki said, placing a hand over her wrists and sending the metal of the band back into the disc he'd drawn it from. "You never listen," he added, as Jane looked up at him in shock.
"You came back."
"Of course I came back. Give me your hand. We're leaving."
Jane stared up. He looked distracted. Mildly annoyed, also, but that was nothing unusual. Distracted was unusual.
"Your hand. Now," he said.
It was the voice of someone who was used to giving orders. Less distracted. More annoyed. She held up her left hand, afraid of how much it might hurt if he tried to pull her up by her right. Once on her feet she swayed dangerously, the sunlight dimming for a moment, and both of Loki's hands steadied her arms this time, his right hand gripping the RF switch in between his palm and her suffocating layers of clothing. "I didn't think you were coming back," she said woozily.
"And we've already established that I have. Now hold still." He let go of her experimentally and found she was still unsteady; actually looking at her for the first time he realized she was drenched in sweat and glanced down at what she wore. He should have thought of that, he supposed, but she would be fine. With a little careful balancing he managed to keep her upright and flip the switch, turning the transmitter on for Pathfinder to locate its signal sometime in the next five minutes and bring them back to Midgard. He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her back and looking upward instead of at her so that he didn't have to think too much about what he was doing. Thankfully she seemed too weak to struggle.
"How could you do that to me?" Jane asked, softly, then again, more insistently. She put her hands up between them to push him away. "I thought you left me here to die. I was about to try to break my own hand to get free because I thought I would die here all alone without anyone even knowing where I was or what happened to me. How could you do that to me?"
Even at full strength she couldn't have pushed him away, but as she struggled and squirmed his arms slipped on the fabric of Big Red and she almost managed to pull entirely away from him before he repositioned his arms and pressed her even more tightly against him. "Jane, I obviously didn't leave you here to die. I did exactly what I said I was going to do. Attempting to break your hand was your own foolishness. Now stay still!" he hissed into her ear when she nearly slipped free again. "Do you remember that broken sword protruding from my back? Someone's hand was holding onto the other end of it when Pathfinder brought me back. If you don't stop trying to get away from me, one of us isn't going to make it through in one piece. And it's not going to be me."
It still took a few more seconds, but Loki's words made it through and Jane fell still, sucking in her abdomen, clenching her arms to her sides, and leaning in toward Loki. She hadn't thought about that. They only had one structural field generator tied in to a transmitter, and it was strapped to Loki's wrist now, and programmed to the general shape of Loki's body…not Loki-plus-her.
She closed her eyes and silently prayed. In another minute she could see the flash of light behind her eyelids and felt that terrifying sensation of both motion and non-motion and that moment on a roller coaster when a sudden drop makes your stomach twist in revolt. She fisted her fingers into Loki's shirt and squeezed her eyes more tightly shut.
When she opened them again, the cold hit her physically, and she gasped as a moment of relief quickly turned painful. Loki was asking her if she could walk, but she was too focused on herself to pay much attention. Is everything still there? It was hard to tell. She was covered in sweat and now it was again somewhere around -60 or -70, the moisture on her exposed head and hands beginning to burn as it froze on her skin. "Give me a minute," she managed to get out as she concentrated on each part of her body in turn, checking for movement…checking for existence.
"I'd rather carry you. It's freezing out here." "You're not dressed warmly enough." He'd been dressed a lot more warmly then than in this simple cloth shirt, pants, and shoes that didn't even cover the ankle, and he'd been going to a place not nearly as cold.
"Don't you dare," Jane said, finally stepping away from him and losing the additional warmth he provided with Big Red opened up. She was dizzy and light-headed though, and walking seemed a bit too much to ask of herself yet.
"Come on. I'm not standing around out here," Loki muttered, losing patience. He put an arm around her back and pressed her forward, letting her lean on him as they moved. The quicker he could get her in, the quicker he could get warm, and get this over with.
Jane let herself be led, and was too busy being grateful for the return of his warmth to be upset about being manhandled.
Back inside the rigid-frame jamesway tent Jane immediately pulled away from Loki and collapsed into a chair, letting her head roll backwards as she stared at the struts holding up the "roof." Her hands began to shake and she clasped them together to still them.
Loki took the empty water bottle from yesterday that Jane had apparently left behind after cleaning up the mess his wounds had left behind, and took it back outside, where he filled it with snow piled up beside the building, melted it, added more low-moisture snow, and continued several times until the bottle was full. "Here," he said, setting it on the table in front of her. "Drink it."
Jane gave him a sidelong glance, then lifted her head and picked up the Nalgene bottle. "Did you get this from the snow?"
Loki grit his teeth for a moment before responding, trying to keep his anger under control. "Yes, I did. Is that not sufficient for you?"
"It's not that, it's just…the ice is too pure here. I need to replenish my salts and everything else I sweated out."
So the answer is yes, it is not sufficient for you. He remembered this problem – as it was for the mortals, at least – now that she mentioned it. The water here was so pure that they actually added minerals and whatever else – he hadn't paid that much attention – to make it healthy drinking water. That didn't mean he liked having his entirely unnecessary generosity criticized. Then he remembered what was left in his satchel. He pulled out the second package of blueberry Pop-Tarts that he'd never had a chance to leave behind in Jolgeir's room…and probably wouldn't have anyway, once he'd calmed down. "Eat this, then. I'm sure it has plenty of salts and…things." He tossed it at her; she flinched but caught it.
She took the water bottle, brought it to her lips, took a sip and couldn't stop. She gulped her way through the whole bottle. Loki stared at her, then the empty bottle, as though she and it had committed some grave affront to him. He swiped it away, went outside for a minute or two, and returned with it full again, while she opened the Pop-Tarts and put the first one away much like Thor had upon his introduction to Pop-Tarts. She made herself take more measured drinks from the refilled bottle while she tried to get her thoughts to settle down.
"Your hood isn't going to do you much good anymore," Loki said another minute later.
"Huh?" Jane asked, her mouth full of sugary goodness, her thoughts still not coalescing.
"Big Red. The hood is missing a bit of fabric."
Jane sat up straight and a second later was peeling herself out of Big Red as fast as she could. Sure enough, a small section of the hood, which must have been sticking out, was cleanly shaved off from the rest of the jacket. Her hand shot to the back of her head, then back around in front of her face when she felt wetness there, but there was no blood, just sweat that had started to freeze in her hair and was now melting.
"Are you well now?"
"I…I guess so. Yeah. Better." No longer worried about the back of her head being shaved off, she looked at her hand itself. An ugly purple bruise had appeared where the raw skin circled her hand, at its worst around her thumb joint.
Loki saw her hand, too, and looked at it with resentment. I should leave that to heal in its own slothful mortal time. "I tried to break my own hand." He rolled his eyes. It wasn't like he'd left her there that long, no more than a couple of hours. Still…it was almost as though she were holding that hand up deliberately, accusing him of something. "Fine," he grumbled, placing his hand over hers, not quite touching.
Jane was startled, but quickly remembered how he'd healed her neck and the frostburn on this same hand. When he took his hand away the chafing and bruising were gone, and when she tentatively touched her thumb joint it gave only the slightest twinge. "Are you a doctor?" she suddenly asked.
He frowned. "Healer. And no."
"Same thing," Jane muttered under her breath.
"Hardly."
"Whatever."
"I'm going back to the station. And please don't take any other unannounced trips to other realms. I won't be there next time."
"I don't… Loki, wait. Wait," she repeated, standing up and hurrying toward him when he didn't stop.
Hand on the doorknob, Loki finally paused and turned. "I need to think, Jane. I need to…I just need to think."
"But, just…wait…why…why were you there this time?" Jane asked, the fall that would have killed her, which she'd completely forgotten in the amazement of being on Asgard and then the fear of a lonely slow death on Asgard, suddenly coming back to her, though even now only in little flashes. Sitting there on the bridge, abandoned, she'd thought Loki wanted her dead. But that couldn't possibly be true, she realized now, thinking more clearly. If he'd wanted her dead, all he had to do was let her keep falling, instead of coating her in dust from a thousand-year-old net. Of course, if he had made her disappear forever, literally, or let her fall to her death, her absence would be noticed eventually, whether from a missed fire drill, or shirked house mouse and dish pit duty. And that would have drawn SHIELD's attention. Still, he would probably have found a way out of that, like he did everything else. So… "Why did you save me?"
"You went there because of me. Because of what I said," Loki answered after a long moment. The answer didn't come easily, and he wasn't sure if it was the truth or not. He wasn't sure why he'd done it. He hadn't deliberated over it, he'd just done it. But of course Jane wanted to know why. Always why and how with her. "Although that was incredibly stupid of you," he couldn't help adding.
"I did ask you about it. You made it sound like everything was safe. But you knew it wasn't. Because the same thing happened to you, didn't it? You never mentioned that Yggdrasil didn't set you down over solid ground."
"Mmmm. Didn't I? That sounds familiar. Let me think…ah, yes. It reminds me of the time someone failed to tell me Asgard might be at war with Svartalfheim."
Jane grimaced. "I said I was sorry about that. I really didn't think it would matter that much at the time. It was just people talking. It wasn't war. And I…I didn't want it to stop you from leaving." There, I said it. The selfish, ugly truth.
Loki barely noticed. "Well, it is war now. I went to Svartalfheim, by the way."
"You uh…you what? You…why did you do that? How did you do that? You were supposed to go to Asgard."
"I do what I want, Jane. I don't have to explain myself to you. But I risked my neck there because you lied to me," Loki said, his voice rising in the end as memories flashed through his mind – guards at the "secret" gateway to Svartalfheim, a pit lined with blades on the Svartalfheim side, Brokk and his blue candles and The Other and the yellow candles and the over-enchanted dagger and being chased out of a tavern as he learned of the war for the first time.
"I told you I'm sorry, and I am. I really, really am, Loki. If I could have it to do over again, I wouldn't keep it from you. But don't go trying to get on any moral high ground with me about lying, okay? And I didn't know there was a war. But you, you knew the danger. You knew exactly what would happen if I used Pathfinder, and you knew that eventually I would use it, you had to know that. Once I knew it was safe, once your return told me it was safe, of course I would use it. We even talked about it, about who would try it out first, when I still thought you were Lucas, when you were still lying to me about that. And then you told me something…what, just to hurt me? You told me something that made me want to go right then and there. I was afraid I would never see Thor again."
"I didn't expect you to immediately go racing out here like some lovesick youth. How was I supposed to know you'd be so reckless?"
"And I didn't expect you to go to Svartalfheim. You told me you were going to Asgard. You told me you were going to see your family. How was I supposed to know you lied about your interstellar travel plans?"
"You are the most infuriating-" Loki stopped as the doorknob broke off in his hand. "Mortal construction," he scoffed. Nets probably crumble away in a week here. "Have it your way, Jane. I don't care what you think. Call it even, call yourself the victor, or the victim, whatever you like. Just leave me be." He turned and bent over the hole where the doorknob had been to try to reattach it.
Whatever further argument had been on her tongue died away as Jane watched Loki with a frown. Who was that? she asked herself. Because it didn't sound like Loki. Or Lucas. She couldn't put her finger on what it was exactly, but it bothered her. Something was wrong. With him. And suddenly she felt guilty. Not about Svartalfheim. At least, not more than she already did. She felt guilty because putting aside everything else, he had saved her life. And he may have caused the dehydration in the first place, but he'd physically supported her afterward, made sure she got back to Earth whole, given her food and water, and healed the damage to her hand. And all she'd done was argue with him. Not that he didn't- No. Get over it, Jane. It may make your skin crawl, but…
"Loki…," she began, just as he got the doorknob back on. "Thank you." The words left a slightly bad taste in her mouth, but not nearly as much as she'd thought when she decided to finally say them.
"For what?" he asked, straightening up and looking at her in confusion.
"Look…whatever else happened, happened. But if you hadn't come after me today, I'd be dead right now. So thank you."
Loki stared hard at her, thinking there must be some sarcasm or taunt in her words, but he couldn't find it. And with Jane one didn't need to look too deeply. Her feelings were close to the surface; her attempts at trickery and deceit were laughably transparent. He'd tried to kill Thor right in front of her, conquer her planet, cut her off from everyone around her, even to strangle her – though he hadn't meant to do that, he reminded himself – and she was thanking him. I did save her life. She should be grateful. But those words didn't sit right, even as they ran through his head. He averted his eyes. There were polite words one should say when one was thanked. His mother…Frigga, his mind supplied, had taught them to him well. Frigga, who now thought he was behind this alliance against Asgard. He refused to say any of them. "If you're done," he finally responded, "I'll be going back to the station now."
Jane didn't try to stop him again, though it wasn't out of fear he would assault her. He might hurt doorknobs, but he wouldn't hurt her. Not intentionally, at least, she caveated, thinking of what she'd just endured on the bridge, what her muscles still felt weak from. Maybe he didn't realize how dangerous that was for me…maybe it wouldn't be dangerous at all for him. Maybe he just didn't think. Whatever had or hadn't gone through his mind when he cuffed her to the gate in her ECW gear and left her there, she was sure he hadn't meant to put her at risk. And it had nothing to do with the enchantment, either. Loki hadn't pushed her when she fell, and he hadn't overheated her using some kind of magic like when he'd warmed her hand that time it had become frostbitten. She'd never thanked him for that, either, she remembered, she hadn't been willing to. But he'd had no obligation to treat her hand back then; he hadn't directly caused that damage, not like the damage to her throat.
He was capable of such violence. Such rage. There was more to him than that, though. She'd seen glimpses of it before, particularly in the way he spoke of his mother – she couldn't remember him ever looking genuinely happy except when he'd talked about her that one time. "She always made time for me," she remembered him saying. Smug, condescending, joking though never in a particularly mirthful way…but not truly happy, not truly content. Being sent back for some kind of still-not-clearly-explained punishment on the same realm where you'd just been soundly defeated wouldn't tend to make a person full of joy and light, she supposed, but still…all that anger with nothing good to balance it out had to be as corrosive as acid.
And I didn't help. Ohhh, I didn't help, Jane thought with a grimace as she made her way back to the table and sat down to get off of legs that had grown a little shaky again. She'd tried a few times, when she still thought he was Lucas, when she'd decided he probably needed a friend. But once she knew the truth…she'd told herself she was helping. Helping him to learn a lesson, to learn something from his period of "punishment" on Earth. But she hadn't wanted to help him at all. She was angry at him. For what he'd done to Erik. To Thor. To innocent people in places from Europe to the States. To her. But it wasn't about helping him. She'd wanted to hurt him. She'd seen a snake with a rattling tail and picked up a stick and poked. Then poked again, and again. And he'd bitten.
Jane still didn't understand who or what Loki really was, but he wasn't a puppy to be housebroken by rubbing his nose in the wrongs he'd done, no matter the scale of those wrongs. She didn't understand him…but she decided she was going to try, and she knew she would have to find a new way to do it.
/
/
Thor slogged his way through the morass of the remnants of the battle. There was no more fighting per se, but there was so much uncoordinated motion, so much shouting, that it almost felt as though battle still raged. Fresh Einherjar arrived to man the wall and secure masses of prisoners, older youths dragged bodies away, tired Einherjar and civilian warriors – many of whom had been fighting since the beginning of this attack, a little over two full days ago – assisted the youths or helped injured fellows back toward the city or to horse-drawn carts that would get the most severely injured more quickly to the Healing Room. Thor stopped to help a few along the way, but otherwise continued on, choosing his steps carefully for the ground was littered with gruesome things. He had been summoned to the Feasting Hall.
"Father," he greeted, when he reached Odin's position atop a slight incline. Odin sat astride Sleipnir, Gungnir in his right hand and the reins in his left, his posture straight as a rod.
"Thor," Odin said in return, giving a small nod.
They regarded each other in silence for a moment, Thor feeling as though he should say something, as though there were things that needed saying, but all he could do was look up at his father.
Odin extended a hand down; Thor looked at the hand, then back up at Odin in question.
"Ride with me," he said.
Thor nodded and slipped a foot into the stirrup Odin had vacated, then pushed his way up while his father pulled. He settled himself, released the stirrup, and held on to the cantle at the back of the saddle as Odin got them off to a slow trot.
"You fought well," Odin said.
"Thank you," Thor said, though again it didn't seem enough. He was somewhat distracted by Sleipnir's odd eight-legged gait. He hadn't ridden his father's horse since his youth, when both of them fit on the saddle and Odin would hold him in front. There was something profound here, he thought, but his senses felt strangely deadened, his mind dulled.
"Difficult decisions lie ahead, my son. Some of them may fall to you."
"Must you sleep already, Father?" Thor asked, suddenly worried, and wishing he could see more than his father's back. He had last woken from the Odinsleep less than two months ago.
"No, not yet. But I cannot keep this up indefinitely. We have put an end to this attack, more quickly than expected I suspect, but more will come. I need to know that you can put Asgard first, Thor. No matter how much it pains you personally."
"I can," he answered automatically. Have I not already publicly pledged such, when I was to be proclaimed king? "I will," he added.
"Even if it requires great sacrifice."
"Even then," he said, remembering how he'd destroyed the bifrost, knowing it could not be easily rebuilt, knowing it may never be rebuilt in Jane's lifetime, knowing that Loki's threat could prove true – "If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!" And then he understood, as the adrenaline and battle lust still coursing through his veins first began to yield to a wave of exhaustion. Loki.
"Thor Odinson, do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?"
"I swear."
"Do you swear to preserve the peace?"
"I swear."
"Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and pledge yourself only to the good of all the Realms?"
"I swear!"
He had not taken the throne, but that did not invalidate the oaths he'd made. Oaths he would still make today, and would have made at any point in his life since he was old enough to understand them. But he'd also made an oath to Loki.
"I swear to you, Loki Odinson, I won't let them send you to Jotunheim."
Is that what he's getting at? That I must put Asgard before Loki? But Loki is part of the Nine Realms, too. Loki is part of me. Does my oath to guard the Nine Realms not apply also to Loki? He couldn't stem the tide of bitterness that rose up in him, recalling that Loki had betrayed him time and again, most recently through his intent to make good on his threat to seek out Jane. Are my oaths in conflict? To keep one, must I break another?
Thor felt a hand pat the side of his knee and looked up; they'd arrived at the palace while Thor was lost in thought. He quickly dismounted, and Odin followed, while a guard ran forward to secure Sleipnir until a servant could return the black steed to the stables.
"Go to the meeting your mother has called," Odin instructed.
"You aren't coming, too?"
Odin gave a small regretful smile. "This council would take more out of me than I could bear at the moment, Son. I'll ask for a report on it once I've rested."
Thor nodded and watched him go, around to the right where the private entrance was. He wondered what Odin knew about this meeting that he didn't. A feeling of unease settled over him as his father disappeared around the corner. He straightened his back and pressed forward, into the public area of the palace, toward the Feasting Hall.
/
Dear guest reviewer whose review didn't ever show up on the "Reviews" page - I got one review that just said the default "Type your review here" thing last time, technical glitch I imagine. I deleted it. Wanted to let you know in case you typed something up and thought I didn't "like" it or something. I've never deleted a review otherwise.
Story Q&A: I have a bit of extra space this time, so I wanted to answer "Jaquelinelittle's" questions here, those that weren't already addressed in this chapter (some of you do sometimes make me think you've managed to read my files!) - good questions (as usual), and several others had these same ones so I presume they're on a number of readers' minds. (1) Could Heimdall have seen Jane when she was falling before Loki made it Asgard? YES. However, he's also very busy, and in this take on things he doesn't see all things all at the same time, so while he could have seen her, he might not have. If they're far enough apart at the Pole, also, he could see her, say, if Loki's at the station and Jane's at the Dark Sector Lab. The former would of course be a red flag, while the latter would not. (2) Did Thor try to kill Loki after Loki tricked him into falling (re the flashback)? YES (or, well, who knows how far he would have gone had his friends not stopped him). If I get around to writing it, this will be covered in my story Eighteen; the flashback scene is not long after the end of Loki's punishment for killing Baldur. Thor did not know at the time that Loki had a net in place, and genuinely believed Loki had tried to kill him. The Baldur story will be covered, some aspects of it anyway. (3) Did Loki intend to kill Jolgeir? NO. Well...not really. He just really snapped for a moment. And the message to Thor would have been through the Pop-Tarts, not through Jolgeir's dead body. Still, a mental ward and a straightjacket might not be such a bad idea. Also, earlier "melluky" asked "Why does Loki blame Jane?" Basically Loki is not into personal responsibility at this point in his life. When things go wrong, it can't possibly be because he is making terrible decisions and doing harmful things. And while he kind of has a point here (covered this chapter), in reality he still would have gone to Brokk had he known of the possibility of war with Svartalfheim; it would have changed little, though he would have been a bit more cautious. (Feel free to ask questions, everyone. I usually cannot answer them from non-registered users, though.)
Teasers from Ch. 54, probably titled "Evidence": Frigga and Thor hear the evidence of Loki's presence off of Midgard, and everyone - probably including readers, though many of you are phenomenally astute - learns at least one thing he or she didn't know before; Jane tries to think about Loki in a new way.
Excerpt (this is Frigga and Thor):
"[...] We have new information on who may be behind all of this…and that your brother may play some role in it."
"Loki?" Thor asked confused. It seemed more likely that there was some other brother out there he didn't know about than that Loki could be involved in anything at this point; he hadn't even been seen or heard from on Midgard since the first two days he'd been there.