Many chapters back I mentioned that there were some dark places in this story. It gets a bit dark here. It also gets a bit graphic in terms of violence. Nothing too overly detailed, I think we're still in the "T" rating, but I just wanted to give a heads-up. With that, strap in, this is a long one.
/
Beneath
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two – Resolve
"I feel like the Michelin Man."
"You look like the Michelin Man, except red and black. You can't even tell you're a girl underneath all that."
"Thanks, Ronny, I feel so much better now," Jane said with a smirk, trying to flex her fingers. Nothing bent very easily with the layers she'd added to her outdoor gear, not fingers, not elbows, not knees, but bending wasn't high on her priorities list at the moment, not compared to not getting frostbite or freezing to death. If everything went smoothly, it wouldn't be an issue. The risk of everything not going smoothly, however, was too great to ignore, so Jane and everyone else had added a second pair of long johns, extra shirts, extra gloves and hand mitts, extra headgear, extra socks. Pockets were stocked with chemical hand warmers.
"Any time," he said. She heard the smile in his voice; she certainly couldn't see it any more than he could see hers.
"Everybody ready?" Ken said from a few feet away where he and Wright had been talking about the ground-penetrating radar. The contraption had been attached onto a long boom sticking out from the front of the huge red PistenBully they would carry them out over the ice, lumbering along at just a few miles per hour on its monster tracks.
"Yeah," Jane said, along with Ronny and Paul.
"Okay, let's do this!" Wright called out, incongruously making Jane think of a locker-room pep talk. He was nervous, though. He had to be. He wouldn't be human if he wasn't. He would be sitting up front next to Ken, watching the scrolling radar feed from the GPR, and if in the unlikely event that he spotted a newly-formed crevasse, he would need to convey that to Ken and Ken would need to stop the vehicle – and all that would need to happen within about two seconds before the vehicle was already over the gap in the ice. The actual chance of encountering a crevasse serious enough to endanger the PistenBully were low – the risk was much greater to the heavier supply vehicles that made the journey overland to the South Pole in summer – but the consequences if they did run over a crevasse were severe enough that they weren't taking any chances.
Jane looked around her. They were staging in the Vehicle Maintenance Facility, and almost everyone had come down to wish them well and see them off. Loki wasn't among them. Even if he just looked at her and rolled his eyes, she would have been glad to see him. But he wasn't, and that was that. She climbed into the rear compartment of the PistenBully, tightly sealed molded plastic case containing electronics and a toolkit in heavily gloved hand. She was hit by a moment of nostalgia, for it was just the day before she'd climbed into the back of a carriage on Alfheim, but instead of Loki joining her, Ronny and Paul climbed in carrying sharp-edged shovels and ice chippers that looked like comically overgrown forks.
The engine kicked on, the big doors up at the front of the building opened, and with a lurch they headed out. They were separated from the driver's part of the vehicle, but through the windows Jane could see Ken at the wheel and Wright already hunched over the GPR screen even though they were still in the building. She took a deep breath to try to make herself relax, and looked at her travel companions. "Nervous?" she asked.
"Nah," Ronny answered immediately. "Real men don't get nervous."
"Ask again when we can't see the station anymore," Paul said.
The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
They talked, the three of them, about anything other than earthquakes and their current mission, quietly, respecting the gravity of what Wright and Ken were charged with doing up front. After a while though they fell silent, and Jane sat back and tried not to think about the fact that the station was slowly – very slowly – receding behind them. They were headed Grid Southeast – based on the "Grid North" system where "north" meant "toward Greenwich," designed specifically for the South Pole since normal compass navigation wasn't terribly helpful here, all points being north – to the area known as the Quiet Sector. Vehicles normally didn't go out that way even in summer, and planes landed on the ski-way outside it. The seismological instruments buried out in the Quiet Sector were sensitive enough to register vibrations from vehicles – hence the intent to keep it "quiet" there.
She looked out the window at the vast darkness to her right – the moon was only a tiny sliver – and remembered arguing with Loki about the window in the carriage, and how foolish she'd felt when she was still arguing and realized he's given in. They'd had fun on their travels. Contentious and exasperating as it had occasionally been, like when Loki seemed to be utterly incapable of not teasing her – "I charged it to my account…she's from the Vestmar Mountains…look at the tree, see the Einherjar, Jana?…Great Spiny River Crickets…" – they'd had real fun. And protestations aside, she couldn't deny what a thrill it had been to be the first person from Earth to step foot on not just one other planet, but two.
And then everything had come crashing down around them. Niskit. So much had happened since that it felt like ages ago she'd first seen that face appear in the gate, reluctantly letting them in as Loki turned on the charm. Niskit might possibly be insane, or at least have a few screws loose, but she did seem to care about Loki in some way, if not quite in a way that Jane would call normal. Abstracting away from everything else that had gone on, it had been interesting to observe the dynamic between them. They clearly knew each other well, and were comfortable in each other's presence. They both liked to antagonize each other it seemed, even to the point of being mean, but since neither of them seemed to take offense at it, Jane supposed that it didn't seem mean to them. Niskit had no particular respect for Loki's position, showing none of the deference that the other elves they'd met had…but then Niskit apparently had no respect for authority in general, given the whole attempted assassination thing. Unless authority involved putting the Dark Elves "in their place," like she'd been confident Thor would do. That was a little unnerving, now that Jane thought about it. It seemed more like the Thor Loki described and less like the Thor Jane thought she knew. The Thor I know, she corrected herself. Neither Loki nor Niskit got to shape her opinion of Thor. And Niskit was talking about Thor from 90 years ago. In just three days, three days that had changed her life forever, Thor's life, too, had been changed. Thor had changed. He'd become someone she liked, someone she could have cuddled with and let the world slide by without her, someone she wanted to pour her heart out to…but she'd never really had the chance for much of that. And she didn't know when she would again…
Jane sighed and shifted on her bench seat. Her mind was wandering into places she didn't want it to go, and her heart was aching with how badly she wished she could talk to Thor right now and tell him about everything that had happened since she'd last seen him. He would listen and nod and hold her and she would fall into the depths of his eyes and…and of course he wouldn't have the slightest problem at all with the fact that Loki had been hiding out here at the South Pole for months and she'd never tried to tell him. That's why they call it fantasy, she thought, making a goofy face at herself behind her facemask.
It was better not to think about Thor too much, just as she'd told Loki. Thor wasn't here, and couldn't be here, and there was nothing to be done about it. And she wanted – needed – to talk to Loki just as badly.
She wouldn't put it past him to try again. With someone else, or in a different time period. She'd known it was important to him, but she hadn't realized it was killing-his-supposed-friend important. Loki, maybe, had a screw or two loose of his own. As soon as she thought it, though, she knew it wasn't right. He's not crazy. He just…he's so volatile. He tries to be distant…smug…arrogant…but he's got so much pent up emotion and sometimes it just erupts and sometimes it's violent, like a loose cannon…like a volcano. A volcano… She wondered how long that volcano had been simmering. Thor thought it was a recent development, starting around the time Loki had tried to wipe out Jotunheim. Around the time Loki had found out he was adopted. As she looked back on what Niskit had said about Loki thinking his father had it out for him and treating him like a sewer, and what Loki had already sparingly told her about the rivalry between him and Thor, Jane thought maybe that was just when the volcano finally erupted, and it had been simmering for a very long time before that. Maybe since Baldur's death and the medieval torture Loki had endured afterward for a crime he hadn't intended to commit.
"He has a high pain threshold," Niskit had said. She wondered if he'd developed that way back then. "It felt like you were ripping me apart at the seams." Jane shuddered. Was she really pulling him apart at the molecular level? "That would be enough to put anybody on his back." All those things that had been a blur by yesterday evening were coming back now. Loki had screamed. Literally screamed. He'd walked around on that disgusting wounded foot for months with no sign of discomfort at all, but this had left him screaming and delirious and passing out. And he'd pushed himself up and stuck his foot out and demanded Niskit start over and do it again. "Try harder." Unlike Loki, Jane had never doubted that Niskit had tried her absolute best to remove Odin's enchantment. At one point she'd genuinely feared that whatever Niskit was doing might actually kill Loki. Which Loki, when she'd told him, had laughed off as a joke, "Would that be such a bad thing?"
It had disturbed her at the time, and it did again now. She'd heard him joke around before and she knew what he sounded like when he was joking…after the fact if not always in the moment. But that hadn't sounded like a joke. And later, when he'd acted so strangely, and they'd had the weird conversation about alcohol that remained fuzzy in her mind…it was like he'd been himself but…quieter somehow. Maybe more reserved. Like he was tired. And surely he was, after what he'd been through at Niskit's hands. After what was a much bigger disappointment than she'd initially realized. Another word popped into her head. Defeated. Like he was defeated.
When she got back to the station, she would find Loki and they would sit down and Jane would plant herself in front of the door and force Loki to talk to her, for as long as it took for her to feel confident that he wasn't going to erupt. And that he was going to be okay.
Jane shook her head at an image of Loki putting his hands around her waist, lifting her up, and depositing her on the other side of the room, then striding out with a wave and twisted little grin.
So maybe force wasn't quite the right word. But with everything happening now, with Gullveig dropping in on Earth and the launching of a worldwide manhunt and Maria shifting the interrogation her way, not to mention the earthquakes that she and Loki might have been causing…surely Loki would understand that they did have to talk.
"This is just like Whiteout," Ronny said out of the blue.
"Uh, yeah, totally like Whiteout. You know, except for the lack of a whiteout. And the lack of earthquakes in Whiteout. And the-"
"Hey, I haven't actually seen it yet. Don't spoil it," Jane said. Not to mention she did know the movie was some kind of thriller and she really didn't need to be getting creeped out right now.
The men fell silent again. She didn't know either of them on a particularly personal level, but she played volleyball with Paul, and Ronny's room was between hers and Loki's – he was the one who'd overheard Loki during his nightmare, and who'd made sure he was invited to another poker night to take his mind off whatever was bothering him. She remembered then that Paul, too, was part of their poker group. She'd never really talked with anyone else about poker night, and not even that much with Loki, figuring that Loki, like any other man, needed some "guy time," whether he thought he did or not. So she'd left him to it. Now, though, for probably the first time, she wondered what he said and did with the other Polies when she wasn't around. And what the other Polies thought of him. And it was the perfect time to ask…if she could figure out how to do it.
It took a few more minutes as they continued to lumber away from the station, but finally Jane spoke up. "So I keep hearing about this Three D's thing."
Two heads turned her way. "Yeah," Ronny said with a laugh. "That was Zeke's idea."
"I think we're going to have to stop doing it," Paul added. "I'm tired of doing other people's chores. Although Carlo gave me some hope last Sunday when he finally unseated Lucas. He was off his game, I guess. I don't know where that guy gets his lung capacity. I've never even seen him in the gym."
"I saw him there, once. Really early in the morning. He gets up crazy early most days I think," Ronny said.
"He's…quirky, I guess," Jane said. "It took me a while to get used to working with him."
"Quirky," Ronny repeated. "He's weird. What was that thing he was saying? 'You are but words,'" he said, imitating Loki's accent. "But I guess anybody who beats down the doors to winter over at the South Pole has to be at least a little bit nuts. Or, you know, 'quirky.'"
"He's a little weirder than average," Paul said.
"Yeah, well. Maybe. But he's cool. Good sense of humor."
Huh. Cool? Good sense of humor? He did have a good sense of humor…if you didn't mind the superiority complex and dark edge that often came with it. But Jane figured maybe he only doled that out to her. She'd seen him playing darts and knew he toned it down then. He clearly enjoyed competing, and seemed to easily fit right in with those guys and their competitive pseudo-macho banter.
"Did he ever tell you his dad doesn't think astrophysicist is impressive enough?" Paul asked.
"Uhhh…yeah, actually." He told you? "He doesn't really get along with his dad."
"No wonder. And apparently he's got a brother that walks on water."
"We should stay out of his business," Ronny said.
"Yeah," Jane agreed with a nod, and conversation fell off again as she wondered what else Loki might have told them. She figured that was all she was going to get out of Ronny and Paul, though.
When she looked out the window again, the station was no more than a hazy indistinct little blob of red on the horizon behind them. Actual snow at the Pole was uncommon, but blowing ice crystals sometimes permeated the air, reducing visibility as they did this afternoon. Before long even the blob of red wouldn't be visible.
/
/
When Thor entered the Feasting Hall that had become the Assembly Hall for the sake of convenience, he was met with silence. It brought him to a halt for a moment; Hergils approached with Gungnir and Thor absently took it in his left hand. "What's happened?" he asked his First Einherjar quietly, the table still a distance away.
"Nothing new. Just a little tension. This group simply behaves more civilly in the face of disagreement than does the War Council."
Thor met Hergils's gaze and nodded, but decided not to ask what they had disagreed about. If he needed to resolve it, they would inform him. He was simply glad it was only a disagreement, and not some further calamity. He went to his place at the head of the table and sat, placing his two weapons at either side. The food and drink was already on the table in large covered platters and baskets and pitchers. Bragi, at his right, stood and hefted a large platter, while several places down, Geirmund stood and took one of the baskets, then moved toward Thor as Bragi uncovered the platter and put three large pieces of dried smoked meat on Thor's plate.
"Where are the servers?" he asked in confusion.
"On sentry duty," Tyr answered.
"We're serving ourselves now," Hergils said, taking his seat.
Thor lifted his eyebrow but nodded. Einherjar had been acting as servers since the discovery of Vigdis as a spy, but there was far greater need of them elsewhere now. And there was no reason he, too, could not serve himself, Thor thought, and took the basket from Geirmund. He withdrew a piece of bread, then passed the basket to Bragi, and soon the dishes were being passed from person to person, more like eating in a group at a tavern than in the palace, but it worked – every plate and glass was filled, if with simpler-than-usual fare. There were no fresh fruits or vegetables at the table; his mother, unexpectedly absent from this evening's Assembly, had told him yesterday evening that other than a couple of orchards on palace grounds and what was grown in small private or communal gardens, they had no more fresh produce. Such foods were imported primarily from Vanaheim or grown on now-abandoned lands outside the city. Fresh meat was a rarity, too, for hunting had to be done outside the wall and game had grown scarcer in the wake of the damage to the environment caused by the freezing of the Eilif Springs about a month and a half ago – hunts took longer and yielded less game, making the risk outweigh the gain. Still, plates were filled, no one was hungry, and no one complained. This was the least of their concerns.
Thor got down a few quick bites before officially beginning the Assembly. They'd once been quite formal affairs; now "formal" meant not speaking with your mouth full. "You've determined a plan for increasing the sentries inside the wall?"
"We have," Hergils answered. "We have incorporated Hogun's suggestion to use those transitioning from Healing Room to battlefield, and we have reduced the palace guard contingent to two at the throne room, or at the Feasting Hall when we're in Assembly, two at your Majesty's door, two at the All-Father's door, and two at the door where he now sleeps."
"I check the additional magic protecting these places daily," Maeva added. "Nothing, not even the strongest of weapons or magic, should be able to penetrate those locations."
"We're also better using the women who'd already volunteered as principal defenders for their buildings, and they're going to spend some time each day sparring with the regular sentries. What happened today at the Shembli won't happen again."
For now, Thor thought, again with a flash of guilt for his pessimistic thoughts. It sounded like an excellent plan, one that would not require even a single warrior to be pulled from the battlefields. He needed to commend his advisors for their good work. "Thank you, Hergils. And Tyr, and Maeva. This is exactly what we needed." It was all he could think to say. A couple of months ago there would have been congratulatory back-slapping and toasts and raucous conversation and possibly even poetry. A few of the other advisors were nodding, and Oblaudur murmured something to Hergils, but the table was otherwise silent.
"If I may, Your Majesty…"
"Go ahead, Huskol."
"I wish to be relieved of my current duties."
"You…what?"
"I don't mean it quite as it sounds. My duties barely exist anymore. I am the Chief Palace Einherjar for no more than eight men at any given time. I believe my efforts would be better spent outside the wall, or else inside as a sentry myself. Hergils can manage the palace's security. But there is little need now for a Chief Palace Einherjar."
It was a simple request, a logical request, and yet there was something strangely unfathomable in it. As though the palace were being deserted. Abandoned. Which it was, in a sense, despite all the people now residing in it.
"And if the palace comes under attack?" Hergils asked.
"Huskol," Thor began, "Release another of the guards inside the palace and take his place. I would like you to be positioned outside my mother's chambers. And if the palace does come under attack, you will be here to direct its defense. I hope you will not see this as a lowering of your position."
"Not at all, Your Majesty. It will be my honor, and it will still give us one more warrior fighting."
Thor turned next to Heimdall. "The ground shook beneath our feet a few hours ago."
"I felt it as well."
"Volstagg thought it might be connected to Yggdrasil's groaning."
"Yggdrasil was groaning mightily just before the shaking," he confirmed.
Natural Environment Advisor Vafri spoke up then. "It was definitely an earthquake. But I can't explain it. The typical earthquake is caused by a massive release of energy generated when rocks along an underground fault line are put under pressure, and break. Asgard simply does not rest upon the fragmented plates that the other realms do. I have never heard of such a thing occurring here."
"The portals, then," Thor said. It was Nadrith who'd actually first given him the idea, bringing up portals when Thor asked if the other realms were doing something to Yggdrasil. "It's the only thing that's different. The portals must be causing it. It would have taken extra energy to maintain a stable portal through the shield, and afterward, we have an earthquake strong enough to feel."
"I received a report from Vanaheim," Bragi said, "and learned two things worth noting. First, Gullveig is back on Vanaheim, and has announced a new trade deal with Alfheim that will significantly increase Vanaheim's food exports."
"Alfheim grows most of its own foods," Trade Advisor Krusa said, the creases in his forehead wrinkling further. "We even imported some from them. What will they do with so much from Vanaheim?"
"We believe the ratio of enemy fighters has been shifting over the last two weeks," Volstagg said, as Tyr and Jolgeir both nodded. "We used to see more Vanir than anyone else, but now the Ljosalf appear in increasing numbers, nearly as many as the Vanir. Perhaps there are fewer Ljosalf available for farming."
"We've seen the same shift in the Healing Room," Jolgeir added.
"We don't know the terms of the deal," Krusa noted. "It could be also that Gullveig is facilitating the trade out of his own coffers, to placate angry Vanir. For all we know, that food will rot once it reaches Alfheim."
"That can't last for long," Accounts Advisor Domari said. "Gullveig's resources aren't limitless, and if the Ljosalf are actually paying for this increased trade that their population won't be purchasing – and surely they can't use all of it, their food needs can't match ours-"
"They don't," Krusa put in. "Not unless they ceased essentially all farming."
"Then in that case the Ljosalf coffers could not long withstand the bleed."
It doesn't have to withstand it long, Thor thought dourly, then turned to Bragi. "The second thing you learned?"
"Yes, thank you. Back to our earlier discussion…they have felt at least two earthquakes on Vanaheim. No mention of groaning…but then only we have Heimdall," he said with a nod to Asgard's gatekeeper. "It didn't cause the stir there that it did here, or, at least the populace doesn't seem to be concerned, probably because Vanaheim does experience earthquakes on rare occasion. The last report from Alfheim still did not mention earthquakes, and our citizen on Muspelheim laughed when I asked."
Thor nodded. Muspelheim had earthquakes with some frequency, and volcanoes, and violent oceans and electrical storms; it had probably been like asking someone on Asgard if they'd felt any breezes recently. "I'll speak to Nadrith about it again, now that we're more confident of the correlation. Perhaps if he understands that their actions are damaging Yggdrasil and the other realms, they'll cease using those portals."
"It's worth a try," Bragi said, though he didn't look particularly hopeful. Thor wasn't particularly hopeful, either. There had not actually been any damage, at least not thus far, and Nadrith was unlikely to be moved by some minor shaking in the ground.
"What about the press conference on Midgard, Bragi? Are we prepared?"
"We're…still working out some of the details, but we're almost ready. We'll do it tomorrow, late afternoon here, to coincide with the evening media presentations in New…"
"New York," Jolgeir supplied, to Bragi's nod.
"Good. Let's move on to the most important issue we must discuss this evening. Tyr, they have successfully breached the shield."
"They have. And we can expect more breaches. This changes the nature of the war."
Thor nodded and looked around the table. Faces were grim; many avoided his eyes.
"Perhaps if we withdrew into the city…abandon the wall and consolidate our warriors," Vafri said.
"They've destroyed buildings outside the wall," Volstagg pointed out. "If we abandon the wall they'll bring down more towers, enter the city like rain, and destroy buildings inside it. Buildings where our wives and children are sheltered. The risk would be…" He let out a puff of air and waved a hand in front of him, apparently giving up on words. It was a risk Volstagg would prefer not to take, Thor knew; no one here would bring their personal lives into these discussions, not at a time like this, but Volstagg was certainly thinking of his own wife and children.
"I agree," Tyr said. "It's too early for that, but the time may come when it will be unavoidable. We can discuss this during War Council tomorrow morning. We'll determine triggers for when we need to fall back, and how to do it in an orderly manner."
Thor nodded, keenly aware that he should be saying something, offering some encouragement, but every word that came to mind rang hollow. Fall back. Retreat. "Yes, do that," he finally said. "We must be prepared for all circumstances."
The scraping of a chair drew Thor's eye. It was Bosi, Facilities Advisor, slowly but steadily pushing his chair back, then rising. All eyes were fixed on him, and any hand that was raised with a glass or a fork went back down. Bosi was the second youngest of the advisors – Geirmund, a little younger even than Thor, was the youngest – and while he excelled in his area of expertise, he rarely contributed to discussions directly about the war. Thor thought perhaps he meant to offer a poem, as he had a certain talent for it, although his poems tended toward humor and could often be called bawdy. Perhaps he means to lighten the mood? Valhalla knows we need it…just let it not be too inappropriate.
"Your Majesty. Esteemed members of Asgard's Assembly. There is something I believe must be said, and since someone must say it…it may as well be me. Call me a coward if you must, but I beg you, do not call me a traitor, for what I say, I say out of the greatest love for my shining realm."
He paused for a moment; no one said a word. Not a poem, then, Thor thought with a growing sense of dread, back further straightening with the suddenly increased tension.
"We are losing this war. The end state of losing is loss. What we are facing…is defeat. I remember my oaths well." He paused a moment and broke into an awkward smile. "Better than most of you, because my Trials were more recent. And if called upon to do so, I will stand my ground alone unarmed before the throne and throw stones at the enemy and when I am out of stones I will throw my own boots and then my fists. But I…I feel it must be acknowledged…that there is another option."
Another chair scraped against the floor as Huskol stood. "The option you speak of is surrender?" His tone was calm, on the surface, but his voice was tight and his body tensed.
Meanwhile, Bosi's hands clenched into fists and Thor could see his jaw trembling even from almost the opposite end of the long table. His eyes were fixed on some point straight ahead, and everyone else's eyes darted between Bosi and Huskol. Three others started to move, and Thor remembered he was supposed to be leading this group.
"Sit," he said firmly, voiced raised just enough to make clear it was not merely a suggestion. Everyone looked his way, and Bosi and Huskol took their seats. And this was it. He hadn't planned it, he hadn't expected it, and yet he knew. He'd known from the moment the shield was breached. Difficult decisions. His mother had mentioned it. He himself had mentioned it to Tony Stark earlier this same day. The time would come. The time had come. And Bosi had known it, too. Someone had to say it…should it have been me? Is that leadership? He'd thought it meant encouragement, and showing confidence. Maybe it also means acknowledging the truth to them. And dealing with it.
"Your Majesty?" Bragi prompted, interrupting Thor's thoughts. He was right to do so; this was no time for such self-indulgent thoughts. This type of self-scrutiny, so alien to him until recently, had become much more natural, which Thor thought was probably a good thing, but at the same time he couldn't allow it to paralyze him.
Another chair scraped against the floor, but this time it was Thor's. Mjolnir he left on the floor to his right; Gungnir he gripped in his left. "Bosi, I can call you neither traitor nor coward. It takes immense courage to say what you did." He paused. That part had been relatively easy. "Our current course leads us to defeat," he said, systematically meeting the eyes of all those around the table. "We have not been able to determine any action that will both significantly alter that course and leave us with our honor. Bragi, work with our ambassadors and prepare a plan for negotiating an end to the war."
"Our warriors have not given up," Huskol said, his surprise plain to see.
"Nor have I. I have asked Bragi to prepare a plan, not to deliver it."
"I will require some guidance, Your Majesty. What we may be willing to offer…and what we are unequivocally unwilling to offer."
Thor's lips parted, and then he realized that he was only now getting to the hard part, that "negotiations," and the implication of "surrender," were nothing compared to the Ice Casket, the Tesseract…and Loki. The pressure of it was immense and horrific and unbearable and Thor wished for a hundred men to charge at without an ounce of fear, to fight them with Mjolnir or even his bare hands, to slay every last one without any complication or even thought. "Let's keep this meeting to only the absolute essentials, and afterward Tyr and Bragi and I will discuss the details," he said, buying himself a little more time, and a smaller audience. "Volstagg," he said as soon as the thought came to mind, "you too."
"Yes, of course," his friend said with a nod. Thor decided he was going to have to appoint Volstagg to a formal position in the Assembly. He was the oldest and most experienced of Thor's friends, and his sense of strategy was among the best. Bragi and Tyr were of his father's generation. Thor wanted a friend with him when he wrestled with this particular decision.
/
/
Loki stood near the ladder for a few minutes, waiting to see if they were coming right back down, or better yet, perhaps just one of them. When they did not, he decided to draw closer. Had Thor not been so weakened, he couldn't have risked this, but as it was, Loki assumed Thor had the hearing of a mortal. Levitating would have reduced the risk, but he wasn't sure if he was capable of it anymore, and he had little doubt he'd be further punished for it if he tried. The ladder would have to do.
He climbed slowly, smoothly, lightly. The ladder was perfectly secure and made no noise as he ascended. Their voices reached him as he neared the top; they were talking softly, but he still had the hearing of an Aesir. Or of something that wasn't mortal.
"SHIELD…make sure this research never sees the light of…"
Complaining about SHIELD. Her relationship with them was complicated, to say the least. Loki understood complicated relationships, and people you were forced to rely on but could not trust.
He preferred not to hear Thor's words, but some of them reached him anyway.
"My father explained it to me…your world is one of the nine realms…"
Your father. Yes, of course your father explained it to you. As did a dozen separate tutors and Heimdall himself. But you never listened to them, did you? Only what your father said mattered. Right up until your ego grew so large that you wouldn't even listen to him anymore. Jane, do you have any idea what a fool you've chosen for a lesson on Yggdrasil? At least you'll have a better one soon.
Except she wouldn't. This Jane would never meet him.
He tried hard to ignore them then. Whatever words they shared were, for him, nothing more than a distraction at this point.
He could tell from the way the voices reached his ears that they were not facing him, so he slowly rose higher, until he could see over the edge of the roof. He promptly ducked back down. They were on the other side of the big spire atop the roof, mostly blocked from view, but he could see a bit of Jane, sitting on a flimsy-looking chair, a small telescope pointed skyward a few feet away from her. If he came up onto the roof and quickly got a little to the left, he'd be hidden by the spire and they wouldn't see him. He knew how to ensure they didn't hear him even without using magic; he'd been able to sneak up on Thor when Thor's senses were at their peak, so he had no doubt he'd be able to do so now. And one of them had to leave here eventually, almost certainly Jane, since it was she who actually had a bed here. At least he assumed she had one inside the trailer. And he doubted Thor would fit in it, even if Jane deigned to give up her bed to him. The thought that she might have shared the bed with him did not bear consideration.
He crept up onto the roof, avoiding the handles on the edge of it that looked like they might squeak, and forward, keeping the spire between him and them. Their voices were still soft but now perfectly clear, no matter how much he tried to will them into white noise. Thor was telling her about Yggdrasil and the bifrost, in vague and general terms that wouldn't satisfy Jane in the slightest…but when he took a quick look around to more precisely gauge their locations, she was looking up at him and smiling and listening as though she were enraptured. And apparently she was, but Loki didn't think it was with Thor's story.
"I'm sorry. I don't tell it as well as he does," Thor then said in response to what sounded like a yawn from Jane.
"No, I'm sorry. It's not you. It's just…this has been a really long and crazy day and I…I'm kind of exhausted," Jane said. Loki thought he heard embarrassment in her voice.
"I understand. And now that you mention it…so am I. Actually, I can't remember the last time I was this tired. And…my arms are sore."
"From what I saw back at that SHIELD site, you're lucky all you've got is sore arms."
"You're probably right. I'm just not accustomed to this."
"We can stay up here…I mean, you know, if you want. It's quiet, and it gets cold but we've got the blankets. And the view's pretty awesome. Not that we would be, I mean, ummm…"
"I would be honored to share your stars with you this night, Jane," Thor said as Loki began to fume. Will they never leave him alone even for a moment?! "I would be honored to share your stars with you…"
"Yeah? Okay…but you'll tell me more in the morning?"
Thor didn't answer immediately, which surprised Loki. "I told Erik I would…yes. Yes, I will. If you'll tell me more as well. About your work, and your…Eyestein Rosing Bridge?"
"Einstein-Rosen Bridge," Jane said with a gentle laugh in her voice. "It's named for the scientists who…I'll tell you in the morning. Deal?"
"Deal," Thor answered, followed by the rustling sounds of movement. They were settling into their chairs, the ones pushed so close together. They were spending the night up here. Together. Jane had never mentioned this.
Loki stood in place, perfectly still.
"Are you warm enough? Here," Thor said.
"Thanks," Jane said. Loki could picture the smile on her face, and tried to wipe it out by instead picturing the look on Thor's face when Thor had thrown him onto his still-aching back on some Midgardian cliff.
When their words died away and several minutes had passed in silence, Loki eased his way smoothly out from behind the spire. They were lying on long chairs that flattened out almost like miniature beds, a blanket pulled up to Thor's waist and one to Jane's chin. These were not the circumstances he'd wanted. But there wasn't going to be a better opportunity. When morning came, Thor would be surrounded by more Midgardians, not to mention Asgardians, all the friends and defenders he could ever want, and it would be too late.
Thor was a heavy sleeper; Jane he was less sure about. What if she woke up when he…
He looked away, as disgusted with himself as much as with Thor. If you can't even think it, how do you expect to be able to do it?
It had been easier in more heated moments, when everything was whipping around him like a whirlwind, in a rush of victory in the ultimate manipulation and the most incredible chaos as the "Avengers Initiative" ripped itself apart from the inside out, or even earlier, when everything he'd ever wanted was in his grasp, everything he'd stupidly ever thought he wanted, and the only one who could still pry it away from him was Thor.
Thor was sleeping now. Sleeping! Right in front of him. On his side, facing away from him. Loki had spent much of the first ten years of his life and then some sleeping right next to him.
Different times. Things changed. Loki had changed. He'd slept next to his enemy for ten years. It was time to put an end to it. It wasn't the end he'd wanted. It wasn't a glorious battle. It wasn't a vicious fight, looking into Thor's eyes and letting him see just how much he hated him, besting him with wits over brawn. It wouldn't be a fight at all. Loki's breaths came shallowly as he stared down at Thor lying there peacefully. Helplessly. Ignorantly.
Baldur had been laughing when Loki's arrow pierced his heart. Was it really so different? What was meant to be, was meant to be, and perhaps the "how" didn't matter so much. His lips parted; the lines on his face cleared. It did matter. It was all that mattered. A glorious battle was for two honorable men. Thor was an arrogant fool and often spoke thoughtlessly, even cruelly, but none on Asgard questioned his honor. Loki's honor had been questioned all his life, it seemed, and as it turned out, they were right all along. Thor could have died an honorable death on Asgard, when the invisible assassin nearly severed his arm and would have followed with the kill. But no, Loki had saved him, because that was never meant to be Thor's end. No, this, this, was exactly how it was meant to be, the one with no honor murdering the one replete with it, the one he'd grown up beside, whose distorted mirror image he was. Sneaking up on him like a coward, piercing another brother's heart.
He stepped closer, approaching from behind Thor, right hand reaching for and gripping the knife. It felt as though a gale-force wind fought against him with every step – not a real one, not like with Baldur, but he felt it nonetheless, and he fought it harder and continued forward, unbearably slowly, into the resistance.
In New York, he'd slipped the knife in where it would hurt. So easy, so simple that had been. A bit of physical pain as proof of the foolishness of Thor's naïve sentiment. A moment of shock for Loki to regain the upper hand. He probably couldn't have killed Thor with that small knife if he'd tried, and both of them knew he hadn't been trying. Both of them knew Loki was highly skilled with blades. He'd used that skill to deliver a message Thor had understood, on Tony Stark's balcony and later in SHIELD's prison. You mean nothing to me. There is no "we." There is no "together." He'd used another knife later in SHIELD's prison, a manipulation of Thor's sentiment to gain his protection, but subtlety was lost on Thor and that message had fallen on deaf ears.
Now he was going to give a message that all nine realms would understand. I am Loki. Of Jotunheim. This is what a monster is.
The resistance lessened and his steps steadied, eyes fixed on the bared side of the neck.
He tried to picture it, really for the first time. He'd never had time to picture it before. But that wasn't true, he realized as soon as he'd had the thought. He'd had plenty of time to picture it. In all the time he'd spent waiting, he could have pictured it a million times in a million ways. He'd paid more attention to the trinkets in the building underneath him than the specifics of how he would do what he came here to do.
Visualization was helpful when planning an attack. The heart was the ideal target. The Aesir were strong, but even an Aesir bled out and his heart eventually quit pumping if it had a gaping hole in it. And this Aesir now only had the strength of a mortal. Thor's position was awkward for such a strike, though; the knife needed to be well-placed to ensure death and not just injury. The throat would be easier in this case. He need only close the distance, and the cut need not be so precisely positioned…it simply needed to be sufficiently long and deep. No voice to cry for help, and soon thereafter, no blood or air left in the body. Death would come quickly.
He was close now. Almost there. Just a few steps more. The knife was out, gripped securely in his left palm. He would have to hold the head down with his right hand, and slice with his left.
He came to an abrupt halt. Jane. He'd forgotten about her. He couldn't have forgotten about her, of course; perhaps he'd just wanted to forget about her. But she'd been hidden behind Thor's much larger frame, and now that Loki was nearer she was right there. Arm tucked under her head, contented smile on her face. She would be showered in blood.
She would be startled awake, turn to the sound of Thor thrashing in vain, and witness by far the most gruesome sight she had ever and likely would ever behold in her life. She would never forget it. It would haunt her in waking and in sleeping. His fault. Always his fault.
But it had to be this way. Didn't it? He had to do this. To change his fate. To prevent Jane from ever meeting him. He narrowed his eyes, staring now at the back of Jane's head and all but forgetting Thor. Back at the South Pole, Jane had a concussion because of him, and awaited the arrival of SHIELD, or Gullveig, or Tony Stark, or Thor, or perhaps all of them at once, ready to burn her research station to the ground as they fought each other and him. He'd come here because of Jane. To spare her the wreck he'd made of her life by ensuring he never became a part of it.
That wasn't precisely true, though. Jane was nothing to him, just like Thor. A distraction, at times pleasant, at times infuriating. He wasn't here for her, he was here for himself. Always and only for himself. If he was going to truly embrace what he was, what that meant, then he had to ignore that he'd cared for her. He wasn't capable of it anyway, not truly. His caring was selfish. He would do what he had to do, he thought as he raised the knife and pressed forward another step, the resistance returning more strongly than before. And he would turn away, remove the RF switch from his satchel, and flip it before he had a chance to see Jane's face.
I can change that, too, he thought. He would simply approach her later, prompt the images she would see tonight to the surface, then obscure them from her memory. He would be in full command of magic again; he knew he'd be able to do it.
Except I won't know how, he realized. The Other had taught him that ability. He would never meet The Other. More importantly, he would never meet Jane. He would never know she existed. The thought brought him no comfort. His next thought, that he would never remember doing this, did.
His gaze drifted slowly, almost reluctantly, back to Thor. He didn't want to remember doing this. You don't want to do this, his traitorous, weak mind supplied. It's not too late. You can walk away.
Loki huffed out a breath through his nose. Thor isn't awake to say it, so you say it for him? "We can end this. Together," he heard Thor saying again. And it didn't stop. "Come on, Loki, run!" "I'll be there, Brother." "Don't you dare breathe a word of this to anyone else!" "You're coming, aren't you, Brother?" "Enough!" "Know your place, Brother!"
He hated Thor. He hated what Thor had become. But was it really Thor's doing? Thor hadn't sprung into being from nothing. He was born of his father. Thor Odinson. He was what his father had made him. The same of course, was true of Loki. Loki Laufeyson, he thought, that version of his name making his stomach twist and threaten to eject its contents. You're thinking too much, just do it! Thor was the logical target, because his death would change what needed to be changed…but was he a fair target? "Fair" was irrelevant. Was he the right target? Thor was not innocent, not in word and not in deed. But he wasn't to blame for everything… And this change…this supposed change, was it real? He scoffed at the idea, physically shaking his head jerkily against it. "Your world is one of the nine realms…" "I would be honored to share your stars with you…" His voice was quiet, polite, respectful. Of a mortal. Has my voice ever sounded like that to her? Shut up! What does this have to do with anything at all? What does it matter if he's changed even one microscopic bit? Are you here as his judge? You are only here as his executioner!
The word rang in his head and stopped his thoughts cold, but only for a moment. Loki the Executioner. A word he'd never applied to himself. Something he'd never thought of himself as. There was no coming back from this. But any thought that "coming back" would ever be possible was the most hideous of self-deceptions, anyway. There had been no coming back for him from the moment he'd watched his left hand turn blue instead of black; he just hadn't known it yet. What he'd done to Laufey, that was close enough to an execution, in essence. But that beast was deserving of execution – cold, unflinching, satisfying execution. The so-called "father." The fathers. Yes, the fathers, Loki thought, everything speeding up into a seething whirlwind again. The false fathers, who don't deserve the title, he thought, latching onto the idea. He should have gone after Odin. No, it would never work. He would have to be alone. No one could see. No guards around. No protective magic. No Gungnir. It wouldn't work. It wouldn't accomplish anything. It has to be this! The thoughts flashed through his mind, racing past before he could actually consider them, faster and faster, frantic, desperate.
He was so submerged in them that he failed to notice Thor stirring until he was already turning over. Toward him.
/
Thank you to all reviewers, readers, favoriters, followers! Not much from me here this time; this chapter's long enough already! Avengers 2 premiered where I live on Thursday; I watched it twice in a row, which was a first (though I did see Thor 2 twice in the same day once, but that was with two different people and at two different theaters. This was all by myself, same theater, same screen...different seat. Fun day! From the last chapter, "bookaholic 72," I couldn't respond via PM, so to (not) answer your question, you are asking a very good question. ;-)
Previews for Ch. 122: Not much I can say without getting spoilery. Each of the three threads above continues.
Excerpt:
That left Loki.
"He did commit a terrible crime against Jotunheim," Volstagg said, the first to speak on the final demand and break through the discomfort surrounding it.