._.
Beneath
Chapter One Hundred Eighty-One – Shift
With Thor gone, Loki paced his sitting room, fueled by a thin layer of restless energy over a deeper well of exhaustion that had probably never fully gone away from the first time Thor showed up tonight.
Better had Thor arrived with a large drawing of a tree, and names dangling from its branches. "Odin" and "Frigga" up top, with "Loki" underneath, right next to "Thor." Winning that battle had mattered, in the beginning. He'd come to realize, though, that winning wasn't the point of it at all. The battle itself was what mattered. It was a safe battle. A simple one. What was simpler than arguing over which tree Loki's name belonged on? It was a bulwark, keeping the host of graver issues lurking beneath it off the table. If he hadn't understood the depths of that before, he was beginning to now.
Thor's confession was sweet vindication that left him flayed open. Painful for Thor, too, yes, but a moment of understanding didn't compare to a lifetime of enduring, or even to the sharpness of the blades in listening to his brother so earnestly admit he believed he was better. Not "better" with regard to what Loki had done the last few years. Just better. At their cores. In their fundamental make-ups. Their fundamental make-ups, of course, were completely different. Thor hadn't even known it, but had sensed it all along. He'd known without knowing, and his attitudes and behavior had reflected it, even if Thor hadn't been entirely conscious of it. Thor had always hated Frost Giants.
Loki squeezed his eyes shut. He could not dwell on this. He couldn't change those basic facts. It is what it is came to mind. He remembered thinking the mortals must have shrunken their brains with the poor quality of their microwaved foods. He remembered mocking the phrase – and them – with an air of ponderous sagacity. But there was a certain wisdom in it. It simply is.
It would be fine. He would be fine. He'd thrown his worst at Thor, and Thor hadn't turned his back. Of course he hadn't. Thor had told him in the journal exactly what would make him turn his back: hurting Jane. Not enraged accusations that called his vaunted honor into serious question. He wasn't sure why he'd ever worried about that. Maybe that wasn't really what had worried him. He no longer needed anything from Thor that Thor might be reluctant to agree to, anyway. He wasn't going to get dragged into his old life, either. He doubted Thor would even try that again, certainly not with the same old arguments. No more pesky honor telling him what he should think and getting in the way of what he really thought of his supposed younger brother.
He would really like to see Jane right now, he thought. He would really like to talk to her. Not about all this; definitely not about all this. He thought he might enjoy listening as she told him one of those stories from her book on Norse mythology, then skewering it mercilessly and making her laugh. Or maybe watch another movie with her, just her, the way they'd watched Back to the Future, and let her drive him to madness with her constant interruptions and explanations, until he stole the remote control from her and foiled her every attempt to regain it. Maybe he could teach her a card game, the way she'd taught him the basics of poker.
None of that was going to happen. Someone else would go to Midgard with her invitation – Loki wished he'd suggested that their mother go. She would come to Asgard – at least he'd managed to accomplish that – but he would have very little time to spare for her, and even if he did, its appropriateness would be questionable. Yes, he had shown Jane Asgard's stars first. But that was it.
Brokk was all that mattered right now. Brokk was the only thing he could actually do anything about. "Where would I go, if I were a weaselly, scheming…duplicitous cur?" Loki asked himself, shaking his head at the end. That wasn't a path he cared to pursue very far, but the fact was, he and Brokk were not exactly polar opposites, and he had experience with being on the run. With hiding, even if he usually preferred not to think of it as such. Loki had secretly stayed – not hidden – for relatively long periods of time on Vanaheim, Alfheim, Svartalfheim, and, most recently, Midgard. The idea of Brokk going to Midgard – and more specifically the South Pole – gave him pause, but upon consideration, he thought it unlikely that Brokk would go there. Midgard was unfamiliar, and Brokk would find it difficult to blend in, impossible at the South Pole. Even Loki hadn't gone there by choice. Brokk also had no way of knowing where on Midgard Loki had been, in the event he decided he needed some kind of revenge against Loki for getting in the way of whatever it was exactly that Thanos had promised him.
Loki sank into the deep leather sofa of his day room, a space he often used when he wanted to rest and think and not do. He swiveled around and sprawled his legs out over it, staring up at the dark wood beams on the ceiling. On the other realms, Loki had concealed himself in acquaintances' homes, anonymous roadside taverns, climbers' huts, and deserted shelters of all sorts. Brokk wouldn't go to any acquaintance Loki also knew, and everything else was too random. Essentially endless possibilities.
The one realm among the seemingly obvious ones that he hadn't used for such purposes – not if he'd had any other choice – was Asgard, his own realm, and Loki first thought too that Brokk was unlikely to be on Svartalfheim. As he mulled it over, though, he grew less sure. He and Brokk were hardly polar opposites, but neither were they quite alike. Asgard was small. As a Prince of Asgard, everyone here knew who he was, most of them by sight. Svartalfheim was many times larger, and Brokk was an ordinary citizen known to few, even if the realm's political and military leaders now knew him well. Brokk was comfortable on Svartalfheim, with its vast dense forests and labyrinthine underground dwellings and passages, in a way Loki had not always been on Asgard. And Brokk had never done as much travelling around the realms as Loki had. Remaining where you felt comfortable might make you more predictable, but there were good reasons why people did it.
Most likely Svartalfheim, then, Loki thought. It was a tenuous deduction, but he had to narrow it down somehow. He began going back over the places he knew Brokk liked to go when he was concerned about attracting too much attention. Brokk wouldn't go to any of those now, not the ones Loki knew, but he thought if he could just identify what those places had in common, it might give him some ideas of where to look.
His eyes snapped open. He scanned his surroundings warily. He couldn't remember the last thing he'd been thinking. He realized with a shaky breath that he had fallen asleep. He'd fallen asleep, and the device Eir had given him to prevent Thanos and his lackey from finding him was several rooms away. "Stupid," he muttered to himself. The lackey was constantly looking for him now, it seemed, abandoning his previous pattern of occasional dream interference intended to torment and provoke him for entertainment; Loki had made Thanos angry by refusing to submit, and informing him that Brokk's plan had failed probably hadn't helped his mood. He wiped at the damp corner of his mouth and stood. He would figure something out tomorrow. Tonight – sleep.
/
/
Thor woke feeling as though he'd just fallen asleep. He wasn't used to getting so much of it anymore, and he'd lain awake much of the night, not tired enough for sleep to overcome his worries. He couldn't stop thinking about Loki, and about himself.
Some things made sense now, that had defied all sense before. Why nothing Thor said, not even the obvious lack of logic Thor had pointed out in his generally logical-to-an-annoying-fault brother's insistence that even though they both called Frigga "Mother," they were not brothers. It wasn't so much about being brothers. It was about Loki not wanting to be brothers. Family was important to Thor, and that hurt. It hurt his pride, too, of course, he confessed to himself. "You're not the only one who has pride," Loki had told him.
His hand brushed across the place on his abdomen where Loki had stabbed him, before pulling on his tunic. "We can stop this. Together." For a moment, he'd really believed Loki would relent.
He wished badly that Loki had told him earlier. Much earlier. He wondered why he hadn't. Thor had never been one to try to mask his feelings; when he was angry about something, no one was left unaware of it. Loki had always been quieter, more circumspect, cryptic even. But he'd always had a smile for him in return when Thor tossed one his way. Thor had never imagined he could have been that unhappy, or frustrated, to the extent that he'd truly wished they weren't brothers. Loki, perhaps, had thought he wouldn't be believed, might have even been laughed at. And as much as Thor liked to think he would have listened, and taken Loki seriously and tried to do better, he couldn't forget what he'd said about Loki's "imagined slights." He was forced to admit to himself that he probably wouldn't have taken Loki seriously, back before he'd started down this path of introspection. Not just probably, he told himself, remembering that he hadn't been fully taking him seriously even last night, right up until he made clear the impact of what Thor had said on Jotunheim.
Those words hadn't come out of nowhere, some new phenomenon arising only in that instant, for the first time. In the moment he'd spoken them, those words hadn't shocked him, hadn't made him stop and think, "How could I have done that to Loki, how could I have degraded my own brother before our greatest enemy?" And Loki's blood father, he thought, although they hadn't known that at the time, and Loki had certainly never shown any sign of sentimentality toward Laufey. Unless killing him reflected sentimentality of a different sort. Which it probably did, he realized. He shook his head at how easily he stumbled off his intended track, then greeted Bosi's wife warmly as he passed her on the stairs, lest she think his mind lost.
He wondered how he had come to treat Loki with such lack of consideration. Lack of respect, just as Loki had accused him of and he had vehemently denied. He wondered if he'd done the same to his friends who weren't his brother. If so, he couldn't recall it. Maybe it was just Loki, because Loki was his brother, and would never turn away. "I remember a shadow, living in the shade of your greatness." At the time, Thor had mostly dismissed that, too, as more of Loki's mad ravings. But a shadow couldn't walk away if it wanted to, could it? A shadow was stuck with whatever cast it. He'd taken Loki for granted.
"You are a vain, greedy, cruel boy!" his father had shouted at him, after Thor had finally gone too far. Odin had never further explained what he meant, but he probably wasn't referring to his treatment of Loki; with time to reflect on those words, Thor had found some broader truth in them. He wished he'd found the specifics, too. "Whatever I have done to wrong you…" He truly hadn't known. And he understood now why those words – that ignorance – had infuriated Loki enough to have the Destroyer strike the blow he had.
None of his other friends had dared challenge his lead or stand up to him. On Jotunheim, they knew his blood sang for battle and they did not attempt to intervene. On this and other rare occasions when Loki did, Thor had been angry and resentful, and toward Loki he'd been dismissive and even disparaging.
As he'd told Loki, he couldn't change what he'd done in the past. But now that he was aware of this pattern of behavior, this pattern of thinking, he was going to do his best to change it for the present, and the future. He could only do that, of course, if Loki gave him the chance to. And that was far easier said than done, given the conflict that remained between them, and the oath he'd given that he would no longer press Loki on his desire to make amends. Only official business would be between them now, Thor supposed; they hadn't exactly made the terms of the agreement clear. Somehow, he was going to have to find a way to prove to Loki that he could change.
Loki, too, he hoped could change. But if he'd learned anything through all this, it was that that was up to Loki. All the cajoling and pleading in all the Nine Realms wouldn't make a difference. Thor had no power over Loki or anyone else, not in that way; he could only change himself.
There was something vaguely liberating in that idea, but it went against the grain of his instincts, which told him to fight for something if he wanted it badly enough. Waiting wasn't his usual strategy.
Hurrying into the throne room while the trumpeters were still announcing his arrival – something he still wasn't used to, for the custom had been eliminated during the war – he went straight for Bragi and drew him aside.
Loki wasn't going to like the conclusion reached. Thor himself felt guilty about it, even though he'd questioned himself and was confident that his decision was purely based on facts. He was afraid Loki wouldn't see it that way, though.
"I'm sorry, Loki," Thor said when Loki found him shortly after he'd spoken with Bragi. "Svartalfheim can argue treason against him, if they choose. The only realm – excuse me, the only party that can possibly best that is Asgard, because our case isn't philosophical or ideological. Not the case involving Vigdis."
Loki clenched his jaw and considered options before speaking. "I told you words and actions aren't the same. If you really want to do better, you-"
"This has nothing to do with that. This is about Brokk and using Brokk to get to Thanos. I hope that you will remind me, if I'm not being the kind of man I want to be, but you cannot just bring that up every time you don't get what you want. Besides, if we get Brokk…Loki, you are a part of that 'we.' You'll be able to question him, and say to him whatever you need to. I give you my word."
Loki bit back a useless retort. Don't fight pointless battles, he reminded himself. "Fine," he finally said. "But I'm not ceding my own demand."
"I wouldn't ask you to."
That gave Loki pause. Perhaps Thor was just thinking that if Loki won, he would extend Thor and Asgard the same courtesy of access to Brokk. Still, it was unexpected. "Good. I should go," he said, turning to do just that.
"Wait, one more question. About the feast."
Loki turned again. He'd studiously not asked, although in the throne room activity was even higher than yesterday, and preparation for an official feast seemed a likely cause.
"You said…" Thor stepped closer and lowered his voice. "You said where Jane is the clock is about five hours different. But you didn't say whether it's earlier or later there. I'm hoping it's later."
"Why?" Loki asked, mentally kicking himself for having failed to be more specific last night. When Thor was at the South Pole, the station hadn't exactly been keeping normal operating hours, and it was dark twenty-four hours a day, and of course Thor didn't have any idea at all about the time difference.
"Because I checked Mother's schedule. If it's later there, she can go invite Jane. She's free this morning. But if it's earlier, then we have to wait until Jane wakes, but by then Mother will be out on official visits to three of the villages. Damage assessment."
"It's five hours earlier at the Pole. Almost all of them would be asleep right now. Fjolvar and the other builders and engineers can survey the damage."
"Yes, but you know how this works, Loki. It's a responsibility, to see such things in person. I was thinking I might send Volstagg, then. He and Jane have met."
"Perhaps someone a little less obtrusive," Loki said, lips curled up in distaste.
"Hogun? Hogun is unobtrusive."
"I thought you were considering their fate," Loki said sarcastically. "You wish to reward them with a trip to Midgard instead?"
"It's not… Keep your voice down. I will consider it. But in the meantime, they're free to assist as needed. And for those who lack Jane's passion for the stars, I doubt the South Pole can be counted a reward. I would gladly send you – you're the obvious choice – but I didn't think you'd be able to get away."
Loki slowly nodded. That much was true, though he bristled a bit at the comment about the South Pole. Even if he'd once shared the same opinion. Still, Loki felt a certain jealousy in the matter, which was probably irrational, but he supposed that if he was at least aware of it, he wasn't in danger of being too irrational. His mother could go; that would be fine. He was thinking Eir might be the next best person…until something else occurred to him.
"Jolgeir or Geirmund, perhaps?" Thor asked. "She's spoken with both of them."
"No. I have an idea."
/
/
After Loki left, Thor lingered a while longer. He'd wanted to talk to his father anyway; he'd just assumed he'd have a little while to think it over first. Now he had a favor to ask, a time-sensitive one, and Odin would be otherwise occupied later in the day. He'd best do it all now.
"Enter," Odin said when Thor knocked on the door to his office.
"Father," he said in greeting, glancing around. This space had been completely destroyed by the explosion, about two and a half months ago. It had been rebuilt and furnished with the essentials, but still looked cold and barren, absent all of the mementos and tapestries and rugs.
"Come to claim your office?" Odin asked, tracking Thor's eyes as they surveyed the area.
Thor chuckled. "There are plenty of offices. I have no need to kick you out of yours."
"You mean you have no need to try," Odin said, chuckling as well. He put down his pen and sat back in his chair; it wasn't nearly as comfortable as his old one. "I come to this chamber out of habit. But it doesn't quite feel like mine anymore."
Thor nodded, and silence hung between them.
"Have a seat. Something is obviously weighing you down. Something you wish to discuss?"
"Yes," Thor answered, taking one of the chairs opposite the desk.
"We're well positioned for the negotiations?"
"You haven't spoken with Bragi?"
"Do I need to?"
"I…suppose not. Yes, I think we're well positioned. We aren't seeking anything onerous, and both Bragi and Loki believe the only real issue is Brokk."
Odin nodded. From the first he'd heard of Brokk, he'd had a bad feeling about him. "I wish Loki had never met him."
"I imagine Loki now feels the same. Father, it's Loki I wanted to speak to you about. One of the things I wanted to speak to you about," he corrected.
"Go ahead," Odin responded, not quite managing to keep the weariness from his voice. He'd hardly slept last night, thinking about what Frigga had told him about Loki.
"Really it's about me, I suppose. When we were on Jotunheim, when I rekindled the war…I told you that Loki tried to smooth things over and get us out of there."
"Yes. And you ignored him."
"If only that was all. I didn't just ignore him. I spoke down to him. Right in front of Laufey and all the other Frost Giants. Jotuns. I told him he should know his place."
Odin's eyebrows went up as he sat back. "In my grandfather's day, Loki could have challenged you to a fight to the death for such an affront."
"I hadn't realized it. The context. And last night was the first he spoke of it. Shouted, more precisely. After we'd been arguing again. I don't think he intended to tell me. It's the first time we haven't argued about being brothers.
"Hm." Brotherhood, the basic acknowledgement of who his family was then, was perhaps not Loki's real concern. In which case…he had entirely miscalculated. He already knew that, but now he thought he might be beginning to understand it.
"There were other things I said and did…or didn't do. But that was the worst. I never thought about what I was doing. What a humiliation it was. Did you know? Not about that, specifically," he clarified when Odin's expression reflected confusion. "In general. That I treated Loki with so little regard."
Odin laughed again, a doleful laugh this time. "My son, you held no one in any particular regard other than yourself. Even your regard for your mother and me came and went at the convenience of your whims. Why do you think I banished you?"
"But what I said to Loki that day…I never would have said such a thing to my friends."
"Are you so sure? Did any of them ever try to stand up to you? To act against your wishes?"
Thor shook his head; he'd already considered this. "Perhaps not. But-"
"You called me…what was it now exactly…'an old man and a fool.'"
Thor winced at hearing his father quote those words back to him in such a dispassionate tone. "I knew you were still my father. I knew you wouldn't…I thought you wouldn't turn away from me. I thought you might make me go build a bridge in some village. Work in the Healing Room, perhaps."
"For starting a war?"
"Obviously I didn't appreciate the gravity of my actions at the time."
"Obviously."
"Still…I know I treated Loki differently. Perhaps because he stood up to me, at times. Perhaps only because I could. Because he wouldn't turn away. Because I thought I was better than him, and that somehow gave me the right."
"Thor…you have made mistakes. You've learned from them. What is between you and Loki I cannot comment on. As for me, learning from your mistakes is all I can ask of you. By the time you're my age, you'll have made many more. Learn from each one, try not to repeat them, and eventually, you may truly grow wise. But you will probably always have a blind spot or two. For me, that has been my sons."
"Sons? Both of us?" Thor asked, surprised. He felt like his father saw right through him, like the pages of an oft-read book.
"Yes, both of you. Do you think I realized you were that impetuous and reckless, to run off and reignite a war? But with you it's a matter of degree, and I have a tendency to see the best. And-"
Thor's breath caught in his throat and his mouth fell slightly ajar as everything faded away but him and Odin and the shock of what Odin had just said. The implication of it. Odin clearly recognized it, too, from the way he'd cut himself off, and the unfamiliar expression on his face.
"And?" Thor prompted, when he thought he was capable of speaking again.
"That's not what I meant," Odin said firmly, carefully maintaining eye contact. "Because one thing is true of you does not mean its opposite is true of Loki. I spoke poorly. Even to say I see the best in you is an oversimplification. I only meant to say that Loki remains a different sort of blind spot, and a larger one. He often doesn't react at all how I expect, or make the choices I expect."
Thor considered that, and thought back to what happened when they were all at the South Pole together. To some things Loki had said, that he had perhaps not given the weight they deserved at the time. "He didn't react how you expected when you sent him to Midgard."
Odin gave a surprised laugh, then fell silent. He took a moment to collect himself, then smiled blandly. "That, my son, is what is called an understatement."
"You gave me a way home. A means to end my banishment, on my own, even if I didn't know it at the time. Why didn't you think Loki could earn his way home?"
"He was on a path of destruction…a path of self-destruction…" Odin stood. That chair was not nearly as comfortable as his old one. "I didn't think he would turn from it." And he didn't. From destruction, yes, to Odin's surprise, he had turned from it before losing all use of magic, and avoided self-destructing in the way he'd expected. He'd turned instead down an entirely different path of self-destruction, and had been prepared to follow it to its terrible end. Not in the split-second decision of a moment gone horribly wrong, but in a deliberate, twisted act that had required at least some amount of planning and thought.
Thor watched as his father walked behind him and traced a finger over a large tome laid open on a pedestal. He narrowed his eyes, reminded of how Loki kept putting his back to him last night and skimming almost mindlessly through the books on that one shelf, never lingering or withdrawing anything. "Do you hold him in less regard than you do me?" he finally worked up the nerve to ask. Did I learn it from you? he wondered, but did not ask. Because I more closely fit the Aesir ideal? Because I am Aesir? That was the one that now bothered him, whether Loki had been treated differently by those few who knew he wasn't Aesir, whether Thor had unwittingly picked up on that, and reflected that attitude back at Loki without realizing where it came from. But while this was probably the frankest conversation he'd ever had with his father, he didn't want to antagonize or insult him. And if his father had erred in this way…he did not wish to place himself in judgement over either his brother or his father.
Odin glanced up at the door. It was closed, and soundproofing was built into his office. "Do you mean because you are Aesir and he is Jotun?"
Thor swallowed before answering. It was as though he'd been reading his thoughts. "I mean because you didn't think he could turn from his path, but you thought I could."
"That's not all you meant. You sound more like Loki this morning, with these questions…except that his are more honest. Isn't that an interesting development? It's all right," he said, waving off Thor's attempted response. "Someday, Son, if you are so blessed, you will be a father. And you'll find that at times it can be just as challenging as that throne. I've never treated Loki as though he were any less than you, because of his birthplace or anything else. I've never believed that. I've held you to the same standards; I've had for you the same expectations. But his offenses – his crimes – were not the same as yours. You rejected sage council and lawful authority on matters you had a difference of opinion on. Loki rejected all of Asgard, everything he'd ever been taught about honor and principles. War is terrible, but Asgard does know war. Loki went straight to annihilation, and then deliberately targeted a realm under Asgard's protection at a time when we could not defend it. He was defeated yet showed no remorse, not for any of it. Your circumstances were not the same. Still…I thought your punishments ran quite parallel. Until Loki pointed out a fundamental difference and I realized they were not. In this case, I had different expectations of Loki than I did of you. If you ask what this says of me…I don't know. Perhaps it says nothing at all. But I tell you again, none of us is immune from mistakes. When I make them, I do exactly what I've asked of you: I strive to learn from them."
Thor nodded, though he wasn't sure he'd understood what Odin was trying to tell him, beyond a possible admission of a mistake in how he'd handled Loki's punishment. And then he thought perhaps Odin wasn't so sure, either. Odin and "uncertainty" made an uncomfortable combination. Even if he'd occasionally thought his father was wrong, he'd rarely thought he was uncertain.
"Loki is speaking to you, then?" Odin asked
"A little."
"Good. I'm glad. He needs to be able to speak to someone, and he isn't going to speak to me without me dangling his freedom before his nose. Your mother says he isn't talking much with her, either."
"Is that why you tied us together? Without telling us how?"
"That was little more than a bit of mischief," Odin said with a smile. "A subterfuge I think Loki might appreciate…if he weren't so busy detesting me. How long did it take you to discover it?"
"Soon after we arrived on Jotunheim. Loki tried to fool me with a duplicate and slip away to bargain over the Ice Casket without ever telling me he'd taken it."
"I knew he would try to take advantage of you at some point. And I wanted you to work together. If I'd told Loki what I'd done, it wouldn't have taken him five minutes to find a way around it. Thor…I would ask one thing of you."
"Yes?"
"Do you think that your brother is without hope?"
Thor's brow wrinkled. "Without hope? If you mean a lost cause, Father, I do not," he answered, as firmly as he knew how.
"No. Without hope for himself. For his future."
"I…don't think so. We haven't really spoken of such things. But I do think he considers his future." A future in which he leaves Asgard, Thor thought, remembering Loki's words from last night. There was still time to convince Loki otherwise on that, though. Somehow.
Odin was relieved, but the only reflection of it he allowed was a slight lessening of the tension in his muscles. He didn't think that of Loki at this point either, but after what had happened, an additional opinion was in order, and Loki, it seemed, had spoken more with Thor than anyone else since his return to Asgard. "This is what I ask of you, then. If he does ever seem as though he is without hope, if he seems as though he will fall…don't let him. Come to me, and I won't let him. Or Frigga. She would know what to do." Even Jane Foster, he thought, but she was on Midgard and Loki on Asgard, and that was the appropriate way of things.
Thor nodded; this time, his father was speaking vaguely again and Thor knew there were layers he was missing, but he understood well enough. He would never forget shouting his brother's name and watching him fall further and further away, helpless to do anything to pull him back. He felt more confident in his earlier response now, though. Loki wouldn't be fighting so hard for his freedom if he intended to let go the next time he found himself dangling over an abyss. "I'll do my best."
"Your best, I hope, will be better than mine. But some things are in Loki's hands alone."
Thor was struck again by how unusual this whole conversation was. "You've never spoken to me like this before."
Odin inclined his head in agreement, though he hadn't particularly thought about it until Thor mentioned it. "You've never been king before. Not in peacetime, at least. And you've never spoken to me like this before, either."
"I thank you for it. I wish I had realized when I was younger how much I have to learn from you. Even your mistakes. I thought I knew it all already. I was a fool."
"Such is youth," Odin said with a smile, dropping into his chair again. "Even if youth clings on for more than a thousand years. Now. You have a request for me, I believe? Don't give me that look. You have spoken to me like that before. Usually when you want something."
"That's not true."
"Not always, no. But it is now. Speak."
"There is something I was hoping you could assist me with."
/
/
"Geirmund!" Thor called from the foot of throne, having spotted the young advisor speaking with a couple of others off to the side.
He excused himself and came forward. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
"How are Dagrun and Nerid?"
"They're doing well, thank you. Dagrun is anxious to move back to our own home, though we're grateful of course for the hospitality we've been shown here in the palace."
"I'm sure we'll start the return process soon. In the meantime though, I was thinking…I know it's still a few days early, but perhaps you'd like to arrange Nerid's Welcoming in conjunction with the feast tomorrow night? You can invite as many others as you like."
Geirmund gave a startled laugh. "I'm not sure the atmosphere will be quite appropriate for a Welcoming."
"What's more appropriate than a celebration? We're all eager to greet your little one, and Loki accuses me of trying to turn the feast into a meeting. If Nerid is there no one will forget that it's not a meeting. We'll hold the Welcoming first, and celebrate calmly until after."
"You are too kind, Your Majesty," Geirmund said, already shaking his head. "We had planned on a smaller ceremony, in four days, on her one-month birthday, and…I think…"
"No, no, that's all right," Thor said, interrupting Geirmund from what was clearly an awkward refusal, and recalling what Loki had said about no one being able to say no to him. Geirmund clearly didn't want to say no, but was more willing to do it than Loki's words would suggest. "Do as you and your wife prefer of course. I don't mean to pressure you. It was merely an idea."
"And a generous one. It means a great deal to Runa and me, how you've remembered us and our daughter despite everything else going on. We are eternally in your debt."
"Not at all. I think we've all shared in the joy of Nerid's arrival, because of everything else going on. We'll have to make sure someone still recites a poem in her honor."
"Ah…yes, that would be most thoughtful."
Geirmund was clearly uncomfortable now, and Thor felt a bit of guilt for being the cause of it. He should have asked someone else to mention the idea, so that it didn't create an unnecessary sense of obligation. He should have asked his father how he handled such things. He let Geirmund return to whatever he'd been doing before, and called over a woman he recognized as a legal clerk.
"Do you know where Finnulfur is?" he asked the young woman.
"He's in his office reviewing treaties, Your Majesty. He wanted to be prepared should any questions of law arise during the negotiations."
"Very well. Go to him and tell him that I will be stopping by shortly. A question has arisen…but it isn't about the negotiations."
The woman nodded and bustled off, and Thor turned to his next agenda item.
/
/
A shout at the other end of the galley, behind Jane, made her fumble with her coffee and spill some of it on her hand; she swore at the burn – she'd just sat down with it – and grabbed for her napkin. Behind her a ruckus was growing, punctuating by a sharp scream.
Coffee wiped from her tender hand, Jane twisted around to see what was going on; with everything that had happened here, there were hardly any limits on what a scream could mean. A group of people had clustered near the entrance, with others approaching from the serving line and standing from their tables. Jane followed their gazes and pointing figures…and pressed back against the table behind her as two big black birds dove straight for her. She jerked to the right and the birds, which looked like crows, alighted on her table. Jane turned back around in her seat, starting warily at the creatures who hopped about mere inches from her, bobbing and twitching their heads.
Is this a dream? she wondered. But her hand was red and throbbing – that had felt pretty real. Hallucination? If so, she was sharing it with everyone else here. Selby, fresh from Club Med, was at the table with her, and everyone else was drifting over to gather around them, even Perry and Mari from the kitchen. The cacophony of a minute before had given way to silence. One of the birds suddenly ruffled its feathers; Jane made a noise of surprise, joining a chorus of other shouts and screams and sudden jittery movements. Behind her someone gave a nervous laugh.
Not a dream, not a hallucination. Two birds had just flown into the galley at the South Pole, where nothing lived but forty-nine humans.
"Jane?" Selby said.
"Yeah?" she answered, not taking her eyes off the birds.
"I'm going to go out on a giant limb here and say this has something to do with Loki."
One of the birds hopped around to face Selby and bobbed its head up and down.
"Woah," Ronny said, crouching down to his knees to peer at the birds at eye level. "I think it understood you."
The bird facing Selby bobbed its head again, while the other took a couple of hops closer to Jane.
Ronny reached out a hand toward the one closer to Selby; the bird screeched and flapped its wings, rising a few inches from the desk before settling again. Ronny grimaced in embarrassment at his own screech made in fright. "I guess they don't like to be touched."
"You shouldn't touch them anyway," Carlo said standing behind Ronny. "Birds carry diseases."
Both birds screeched at that, and the one nearer Selby took off, making everyone duck. It circled over their heads for a few seconds before veering off to land on the hood over the food service area.
"Way to go, Carlo," Austin said, giving his shoulder a nudge. Carlo turned and shot him a look Jane couldn't fully see.
"Hey, Mari, maybe they're hungry. Get 'em some bread," Zeke said.
Mari, at the back of the gathered crowd – still growing as others arrived – closest to the kitchen area, glanced back uneasily at the bird pacing above the food. "I'm not feeding Loki's birds."
The bird next to her gave a loud croaking squawk.
"Who cares whose birds they are?" Wright asked. "I haven't seen another living thing besides you schmucks in seven months. They're birds. Hey there," he said to the bird still on the table. "Can I touch you if I ask first? Pretty please?"
"That is so unfair, dude," Ronny said as the bird hopped over toward Wright at the side of the table and stood still while Wright bent a finger and gently rubbed the its head and back.
"One of my sisters has an African Grey Parrot. That thing is an evil genius. These crows seem a lot nicer. You just have to treat them with respect."
"They're ravens," Macy said to a few murmurs and nods of agreement. "They look just like the bird on my copy of Poe's The Raven."
"That's not at all creepy to bring up," Drew said.
"Ravens, huh?" Jane said, remembering she'd read something about ravens in the mythology book Darcy had sent her.
"Jane," Selby said, "I think we're all so amazed at seeing a couple of birds showing up here out of the blue that we're missing the obvious question. Why are they here? I mean…they flew straight toward you."
"Yeah," Wright agreed. "And this one has something wrapped around its leg."
/
The title was hard to come up with on this one, but once I did, I was fairly satisfied with it. A number of mostly-subtle shifts are taking place here, including one that readers are not privy to. "It will come. In time." (-Loki)
Writing-wise conditions are better for me now - I'm back under my own roof, with a bed no less (turns out I'm past the age where sleeping on the floor is okay), and an internet connection that is highly unlikely to be absent for 5 or so days per month. There's still a lot going on, but these two things should help a lot!
Guest review responses (as a general reminder, I don't always include responses here, I try to, but if I don't, it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with how long the chapter was, or how tired I was when I released it, ha). Guest (Dec. 31): Thank you! Hopefully things go more smoothly from here on out! / Guest: Thanks! Yeah, a Thor with only the muscles and no brain is a caricature. I've done a lot more with him in this story than originally intended. At this point there's definitely hope for these brothers to mend their relationship, putting it back together in a new way. You raise a good point about all of the differences between Jane and both Odinsons, including class which isn't mentioned much...and "peasant" is the perfect word for Jane from their perspective, Loki would totally have called her that in the beginning, and jokingly still might now! / "C": Ha, don't get used to that two chapters thing! As for shapeshifting (and all "magic"), I place a high premium on logic, which requires lots of thinking things through if you're going to write it. "Because magic" *can* cut it, I think, depending on the style of writing and plot and such. Just not for me! (So don't necessarily let it shatter your own perceptions.) I can't speak to HP stuff, I saw the movies once and don't remember them terribly well, as with all things I see only once; didn't read the books.
Previews for Ch. 182: Jane deals with her avian visitors (three guesses why they're there and you know those first two never count); Thor undertakes a bit of manual labor (Loki got a servant, he doesn't do manual labor, you know).
Excerpt:
"Scissors?" Macy suggested.
"Try pulling on it," Ronny said.
"I don't think- Oh!" Jane exclaimed, jerking away and dropping to the table the scrap that had unexpectedly come off at a light tug. When she picked it back up it started expanding outward from the corner held between her fingertips. The others were murmuring among themselves and making noises of surprise; Jane was barely aware of them. Writing was visible but distorted and stretched, shifting as the material grew and its relative dimensions changed. Within just a few seconds, the soft paper, some kind of razor thin leather, Jane now thought, stopped changing and she was looking at upside-down writing in black ink.