Beneath

Chapter Fifty-Four – Evidence

Frigga was waiting for him at the entrance to the Feasting Hall, her gaze falling on him, giving him a practiced inspection for injury – there were only a few scratches and small cuts and minor burns, nothing that warranted a visit to the Healing Room – then looking expectantly beyond him. Her relief turned to a frown, for no one followed him.

"He is resting," Thor said as soon as he reached her.

She nodded, took his hand, kissed his forehead.

He fought not to pull away from her, both because he felt somewhat uncomfortable being kissed by his mother in what was – or what had once been – a public place, and especially because he knew what was on his forehead after days of fighting and killing. It reassured her, though, he supposed, so he let her do it, and squeezed her hand back in return.

"He isn't coming to this council, then?"

"No. He said…he said it would be more than he could bear. He's concerned about needing the Odinsleep again already. But…he was there, he already knows the losses we took. Is there something else?"

"There is. 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.

"Come. There's no point in you hearing it twice. We're almost ready to begin, but I wanted to wait for you and your father."

Thor nodded and entered the Feasting Hall at her side. At the long table sat Hogun, three uniformed Einherjar he didn't recognize, a nervous-looking young man who looked vaguely familiar, another unfamiliar man in a simple laced-up tunic, Maeva, who had become a regular attendee since planning for Asgard's defense had begun, and Bragi. It was a strange council. Small, certainly for what was surely a matter of great importance, and full of unexpected people while lacking expected ones. Bragi certainly was present for nearly all councils, and Hogun was sometimes in attendance, but when he was, it was almost always with Volstagg and Fandral, and often with Sif as well. First Einherjar Hergils, who had been leading Einherjar warriors in and around the forest, was just sitting down beside Maeva, his face darker than usual with soot.

He looked around the hall itself and realized why it felt empty; no guards were positioned along the walls and no servants hovered with plates and pitchers.

Those present were oriented around the end of the table where Odin sat. His chair and those to its left and right were empty.

"Do you wish to lead the council?" Frigga asked quietly just before they reached the table.

"If you wish it I will, but I know little of the subject, and truthfully…I was hoping for some sustenance."

"Sustenance you shall have. But do not set your hopes too high," she answered with a light smile.

Thor gave her a curious look, but he took his customary spot to the right of the head chair in silence, nodding to the greetings of several of those seated, while Frigga took the head chair itself.

"You may begin dinner service now!" Frigga called – loudly.

Thor, who'd been about to ask Hogun how he was doing, looked up at her in shock. He thought that if perhaps he were not quite so tired, then all of this would make perfect sense.

Four Einherjar then filed out of the kitchen, three carrying black kettles, the fourth carrying two pitchers. Thor watched as Asgard's elite professional warriors and guard force reached the table. One filled his glass with red wine – he was too tired and his stomach too empty for the mead he would normally take. The others first retrieved bowls from a nearby serving cart, then one placed a bowl before him and ladled stew from the kettle into it, splattering some of the liquid onto his already filthy armor.

"My apologies, Prince Thor," the man said, continuing to serve him the stew.

Thor laughed at the strange symmetry of it – the last time he'd been in this room, before the second round of battles, he'd had mead spilled on him. "At least you aren't likely to run away crying over it. But I do suggest you not abandon your position for one in the kitchen."

The Einherjar serving him smiled and nodded, then moved on to Bragi, seated next to him. When Thor looked around the table, expecting to share a laugh, no one was laughing, and around half avoided his eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked, searching the faces of those he knew.

"Eat, Thor," his mother said. "We're still waiting on two more. We'll discuss it once they arrive."

Thor looked around once more, found no answers, shrugged, and dipped his spoon into the bowl. There was an odd burnt smell, he realized as he lifted the spoon, found also in the taste. Potato chunks dissolved into mush in his mouth, the carrots crunched like raw between his teeth. Thor ate it with a smile, fondly recalling the many field-cooked meals he'd shared with Loki and his friends over the centuries. Then he looked up at his mother again. Why are we eating field-cooked meals in the palace? There was no doubt in his mind these Einherjar had not only served the meal, they'd prepared it. Frigga merely crunched down on a carrot – he could hear her do it – and tightly smiled, so Thor went back to his stew.

The Einherjar finished serving and set the kettles down on the far end of the table, then two scurried back to the kitchen and returned with rectangular loaves of dark bread. One of them drew a dagger from a leather sheath on his forearm – Frigga opened her mouth to object but was too late – and made quick clean slices through the bread. Thor caught Hogun's eye and chuckled. He supposed an explanation would come eventually, but in the meantime this was certainly a more entertaining meal than he'd expected, and it helped to distract him from the carnage he'd just come from and the prisoners so numerous no one yet knew what to do with them all and the worry that at any moment another portal could open and another mass of fresh warriors could pour through.

"Here they are," Frigga said, just as Thor signaled for seconds on the stew.

He looked up to see Chief Palace Einherjar Huskol walking in with another man Thor didn't recognize, dark haired and with a slow and slightly odd gait, his arms behind him as though a prisoner in shackles. He watched in curiosity as the two approached, thinking this prisoner must be the reason the council had been called. The prisoner, Thor quickly realized, was Jolgeir, and for a split second Thor thought perhaps he'd been badly injured and was actually lying in the Healing Room dreaming all of this absurdity. He soon recognized, however, that Jolgeir was of course not a prisoner – the long sleeves of his yellow tunic were empty, and fastened somehow behind him. "Seriously injured," another Einherjar had told him. "Rumors that he's lost the use of his arms." Thor remembered being relieved to hear it, thinking Jolgeir's arms would heal in time. He stared, unblinking, as Huskol stayed by his predecessor's side and pulled out a chair for Jolgeir, directly across from him, helped steady him as he sat, then pushed the chair forward. Huskol then nudged the Einherjar in the seat to Jolgeir's left; he took his bowl and glass and moved to the end of the table and Huskol took the vacated spot.

"Would you like some stew?" one of the Einherjar-turned-servers asked, bringing a kettle to stand near the former and current Chief Palace Einherjar, while another man brought the pitchers.

"I've eaten already, thank you," Jolgeir said, as Huskol nodded.

It was only then, in the way that Jolgeir did not quite meet the eyes of the person who'd spoken to him, that Thor realized that he'd lost his sight as well as his arms.

"Are you sure?" Huskol asked. "It would be my honor to assist you."

Jolgeir thanked him but declined.

"It's a good thing you've eaten, Jolgeir," Thor said, trying to get past his shock. "Your own men cooked it, and they splash it on you when they fill your bowl."

"We'll consider this part of their training regimen, then. It's only a shame that they must practice on our queen and prince."

"The queen is not complaining, and the prince knows well he could do no better. Now," Frigga said, turning her attention from Jolgeir and Thor to the table at large, "since we are all here, let us begin. Please continue to eat as you like. Bragi?"

Next to Thor, Bragi stood. "We will first hear from Fridulf Hjalmarson, healer in training, so that he may return to his duties once he has spoken. Otherwise, we shall hear reports in chronological order."

Fridulf – whose name Thor instantly recognized as the discontented nineteen-year-old who'd tended to him – pushed his chair back to stand, but Bragi motioned for him to keep his seat. He reminded the nervous youth that this was informal, and that he should simply state what he'd observed. Thor watched and listened with interest, his second bowl of stew forgotten, his spoon still in his hand.

"Well, it was yesterday. Early afternoon, I think. I saw a man take a Healing Stone and break it over his injury. It looked like a simple stab wound, but it didn't heal. So it made me curious. He said it was caused by an enchanted dagger. When I tried to heal it, I could tell there was some kind of magic there, and removing it was really hard. Actually, I didn't think I could do it at all, but he encouraged me to try, and…he sort of told me how to think about it. I worked on it for a long time, and I made a little progress, but then I got called away. And that's it. I didn't see him again after that."

"Describe him, please," Bragi said, and Fridulf did: tall, slender, curly blond hair, beard.

Any number of men on Asgard fit that description, but it sounded like no one in particular Thor knew. "Is this a new type of weapon we're facing?"

"We haven't seen any other cases like it, my prince," the boy said, straightening his posture.

"How was his health otherwise?" Frigga asked. "Did this wound cause him much pain?"

"He didn't show it, but he wasn't moving his arm. It caused a lot of damage to the shoulder muscles. But otherwise his health appeared fine."

"Any other questions?" Bragi asked a moment later.

Thor had a dozen, but he assumed he was more in the dark than anyone else here, and he also understood that the real reason Fridulf had been asked to speak first was because he did not need to be privy to whatever discussion would follow. If there were other appropriate questions to be asked, someone else at the table who knew what all this was about could ask them. He glanced at his mother; the worry lines in her forehead were showing and her lips were slightly parted. She, too, he recognized, had questions she wasn't asking. Thor wondered what hers were.

Frigga listened as Huskol asked Fridulf if he'd seen the blond man speaking with anyone and Fridulf said he had not, and then it appeared there were no more questions. She didn't want him to go. She wanted to embrace him. To touch the hand that had touched Loki's shoulder. To press him for more details on how bad the wound was, on whether Loki looked tired, whether he looked sad, or angry. He'd encouraged this boy. Isn't that a good sign? Isn't it evidence of the good still in him? she thought. Frigga steadied her escalating emotions as Fridulf stood to leave but then turned back to face Thor.

"Thank you, Prince Thor, for what you said to me the other day. I haven't forgotten it."

Thor nodded; Fridulf bowed to him and the queen and left.

"For those who are just catching up," Bragi began with a pointed look at Thor, "that man with the strange wound was Loki."

Thor dropped his spoon into his bowl, sending another splatter onto his armor. "Because the wound had magic in it that resisted healing? Loki can't be on Asgard. He's on Midgard. He has no way to get here."

Bragi shook his head. "We know that Loki knows additional passageways between the realms unfamiliar to anyone else; he even confessed as much to Heimdall. And though we thought it unlikely because of Midgard's distance to us through Yggdrasil, clearly he has found a passageway here. That or he's located some other powerful relic on Midgard."

"I will ask Odin, but no other such relics are known to me," Frigga said.

"So Loki…you're saying Loki is here. And injured. And he went to the Healing Room, right down the street from here, for treatment." This is impossible. They're frightened, and Loki is an easy target.

"There's much more, Thor. Just listen for now."

He looked at his mother for a moment and found her face smooth and expressionless. He nodded.

And so it began.

The two Einherjar who'd seen – or not seen, in fact – someone make use of the newly sealed and guarded gateway to Svartalfheim. Someone who'd fought well, incapacitating a trained Einherjar and relieving him of his sword in the space of a couple of seconds. Someone skilled in magic, making himself invisible, dissolving a heavy stone into silt, and opening the magic stone behind it. Someone who knew this gateway existed in the first place, and had gone immediately for the passage at the back of the cave.

Denial could be powerful, but Thor knew from this evidence alone that no matter how strongly he believed Loki had to be on Midgard, he had in fact made it back to Asgard, and then to Svartalfheim. Until recently, only a tiny handful of people had known that gateway even existed. Jolgeir, he now knew, was one of those who'd known all along, having followed him and Loki through it in secret on their early adventures there.

No one knew what Loki had done on Svartalfheim, but next spoke Dantral Ferison, one of Bragi's secret envoys, the man in the laced-up brown tunic. While pretending to be Vanir and doing his best to spread dissent on Svartalfheim over the attack on unarmed civilians in Asgard's throne room, he'd encountered a man who turned out to be indisputably Loki, entirely undisguised except for uncharacteristically mussed-up hair and unadorned clothing. "He said he was disgusted that women had been killed, and he asked about Prince Thor and the All-Father. Then I turned and we saw each other, and he recognized me. Or at least, he knew I wasn't who I was claiming to be. I was worried he would expose me, but he only wanted to leave. Then a child came in announcing that there was an Asgardian intruder in the area. This intruder had killed a Svartalf warrior. I never heard who, or why. Loki threw the little boy aside and escaped before others in the tavern could capture him."

"Was the boy hurt?" Frigga asked immediately. She'd been heartened to hear Loki had asked after Odin and Thor, but then to harm a child…

"A few bruises, I'm sure, otherwise, no. I didn't stay long after that, for my own safety and because I knew I would need to get to a place where I could call for Heimdall to bring me back so I could inform you. I…quite honestly, I was beginning to believe I'd been imagining things until I got here and realized there had been other sightings of him."

Dantral, more trusted than the unknown young healer Fridulf but still with no need to be part of further discussions, was dismissed.

The next to see Loki was Fridulf, whose testimony they'd already heard, and Bragi spoke for another healer who'd afterward interacted with Loki less, and had simply led him – reluctantly, she had noted – to the private wing so Eir could examine his wound. This detail meant little to Thor, but Frigga knew why Loki had been reluctant. Having been his personal healer for over a millennium, Eir would probably recognize Loki through any disguise, and Loki knew it. He hadn't wanted to be discovered, and he hadn't sought out Jolgeir. And that meant, as Jolgeir had said he suspected, Loki had never intended to pass on those warnings to him.

At Bragi's direction, Jolgeir – who needed no introduction before this group – related his tale next, how he'd known his "healer" was Loki by his words and the way he'd said them, how Loki had been surprised at his condition but seemed to have known about the explosion, how he'd asked whether the queen had been hurt, how he'd tried to tell Loki that Asgard needed him – Thor noted several reactions to this, none of them quite favorable – how Loki had made to leave but seemingly as an afterthought had warned him of the danger to the Felingard Forest and given him the name of a palace servant, Vigdis.

"What was his demeanor?" Thor asked. Like his mother, he remembered that Loki had once felt a special fondness for Jolgeir; he recalled his younger brother as a child getting into trouble for distracting him from his duties, wanting Jolgeir to play with them or bringing books for Jolgeir to read him. "Was he friendly with you? Or…" It wasn't that Thor couldn't think of any words to say. He didn't wish to speak aloud any of the words that came to mind.

"He was…he was Loki. A little distant. Guarded. Careful to hide whatever he was really thinking and feeling."

"He didn't threaten you in any way?" Hergils asked from the far end of the table.

"No," Jolgeir said immediately. But then a shadow passed over his face. "Not then."

"Jolgeir," Frigga began, hesitating, already getting the sense she wouldn't want to hear what Jolgeir said next. "You've seen him since then? Since yesterday afternoon?"

"I have, Your Majesty. Very early this morning. He was there when you entered, Huskol."

"What?!" Huskol shouted. "I saw no one. Why didn't you say something? He…he'd made himself invisible? That little-" Huskol glanced at the queen and did not finish his sentence. "He was threatening you then?"

"Perhaps I should continue my story after we hear from the others. I know Hogun saw him."

"I did," Hogun said, speaking up for the first time. "He was leaving the private wing as I was entering. He appeared as Jolgeir described him. I questioned his presence there, and he became…confrontational. But his challenge was only with words. Though I did not recognize him at the time, I have no doubt now that this was Loki."

Confrontational, Thor thought. The new Loki, then, rather than the old, who avoided confrontation, whose temper rarely got the best of him, and who was unfailingly polite, even while turning your wine into writhing snakes or your hair into the same. Was it all a mask? he wondered. Did his politeness hide anger? Was there more behind his little tricks than a desire for a clever jest? He recalled the last real moment of levity he'd shared with his brother. He'd been poking fun at Loki for his use of subterfuge instead of weaponry when they'd ran into a problem in Nornheim, and that servant had chuckled. But I always did that. Just a little teasing between brothers. He made fun of my helmet, and I made fun of his, just as we have for a thousand years. I made fun of his trickery, and he was always calling me a fool or an idiot. Where's the harm? Surely he was not actually bothered by such things. Thor thought back, eyes narrowed as he tried to remember what grew more distant with each passing day. It had sometimes gotten on his nerves when Loki called him stupid. More so when he was younger, less self-confident. A few times he'd gotten so angry he and Loki had brawled over it. But Loki had never started fights over a bit of teasing. The very idea of Loki starting a fight – until recently – was almost unheard of, and Thor had teased him for that, too, though Loki had been known to finish fights started by someone else.

"What?" Thor suddenly blurted out. He hadn't been listening, and Huskol had just mentioned something about the tesseract. Snatches of the words he'd just said came back. "Loki tried to steal the tesseract?"

Tyr strode in, then, looking as filthy as Thor, for although he was supposed to be serving solely as a war strategist, he had jumped in to help turn the tide of the most recent battle.

"There's no way to be 100% certain it was him," Huskol explained, "but given that we know he was in the immediate vicinity right before the attempted theft, and given that we know he is able to make himself invisible and that he used this trick while attacking the Einherjar guarding the gateway to Svartalfheim, it's the only reasonable assumption."

Huskol went back and repeated the account put together from the Einherjar guarding the empty observatory, while Tyr took the seat vacated by the trainee healer Fridulf, and Geirmund arrived, first hovering near Bragi, then taking Dantral's empty seat.

Thor let his head fall back and ran a hand through his hair. He stole a glance at his mother, who was steadfastly looking only at Huskol as he spoke. She wasn't hearing these details for the first time, Thor knew, for she didn't react when Huskol related how Loki had stabbed several Einherjar and had himself been stabbed, and had seemed to vanish from the building in a blinding flash of light, taking half of a sword with him, presumably in him.

"This was the last sighting. Or so I had thought," Huskol finished, looking to Jolgeir.

"He came at dawn, invisible, when my wife and daughter were visiting. He said nothing until they left. He asked strange questions. If I knew who he was. If I knew what he was."

Thor and Frigga exchanged a quick look; they alone at this table knew what Loki had been asking.

Jolgeir smoothly and professionally summarized the rest of the brief conversation, up to his offer of aid, before pausing for a moment. "He grew quiet then, and I waited for him to say something, but…he still said nothing, and I felt a blade at my throat."

Gasps and quiet exclamations sounded from around the table. Frigga stared at him, her hand over her mouth in shock and horror.

"You told me your wife nicked you while trimming your beard."

"He was in the room, Huskol. He was clearly upset about something. I didn't want to do anything to provoke him."

"You asked me to open the door-"

"Yes. So he could leave."

"So he could escape," Huskol corrected.

Jolgeir inclined his head. "I wasn't aware he was currently under arrest."

"He isn't," Frigga said. "You did nothing wrong, Jolgeir. I'm grateful you were able to speak with him. If he comes to you again, tell him I wish to speak with him myself. And that I will guarantee him amnesty if he does so."

"My queen, amnesty? Loki is clearly involved in this," Bragi argued. "Most in this hall know that he and Brokk are friends. I don't know how he escaped from his banishment to Midgard, but he is now roaming the realms freely, attacking other Aesir, and attempting to steal our most powerful and dangerous possession. We must capture him and find out what he knows."

Frigga shook her head. "Do you think Loki will be so easy to capture? He escaped from a heavily enchanted chamber with twelve Einherjar raising swords against him. And you say 'attacked,' he may say 'defended.' Aside from defying the All-Father's punishment, he hasn't been proven guilty of anything."

"Anything new," Bragi corrected. "Forgive me, my queen, but he has already been proven guilty of much."

"I have no idea what Loki is up to, and I am not in a frame of mind to imagine theories. But I must say this," Thor stated, glancing around the room at the various expressions of anger, confusion, discomfort, and worry. "I understand Vigdis said that Brokk said he was working with Loki. But the last I heard of Brokk was perhaps…sixty or seventy years ago, when he and Loki got into some trouble on Alfheim, and Loki escaped but Brokk did not, and Loki did not aid him. Loki was afraid Brokk would come after him if he got free." Loki hadn't volunteered the information, of course, but Thor had seen his haggard appearance as he'd slunk back to his chambers and pried the story out of him while he was still rattled and had his guard down.

"Loki and Brokk used to have extravagant fights…but they always made up in the end," Maeva pointed out.

The table then devolved into multiple arguments and shouting. Frigga sat at the head of the table watching and listening in silence, while Thor joined in and found himself arguing with whatever point was put to him, seeking to defend Loki but at the same time not truly believing him entirely innocent.

"How else would Loki know about the Felingard Forest attack? Or about Vigdis?" Huskol asked. "He must be in league with Brokk. And then perhaps he finally remembered who he was and began to feel guilt over his actions."

"How did I know about the Felingard Forest attack and Vigids?" Jolgeir asked. "Do you believe I am involved in these attacks? Perhaps someone told Loki, just as Loki told me."

"What if this is all some grand scheme?" Tyr asked, speaking up for the first time and causing the rest of the arguments to taper off. "Like what Prince Thor explained he tried to accomplish on Midgard. Loki could have told Jolgeir about the forest and Vigdis to distract us from his real goal all along: the tesseract. Vigdis had been dismissed, she had lost her usefulness as a spy. They lost nothing in giving us her name."

"But why would Loki be one of their three demands if Loki is in league with them?" Thor demanded.

"A distraction," Tyr answered. "We haven't seen a single Frost Giant here. I don't believe they're invested in this. And why would Vanaheim want them to have the Ice Casket back, anyway? The Frost Giants attacked Vanaheim before they attacked Midgard. Perhaps this is solely about the tesseract, and everything else is a diversion."

"If this was all about Loki stealing the tesseract, for himself or Svartalfheim or the alliance against Asgard or whomever…he would have made a more impressive attempt, I think," Maeva said. "What he did lacked forethought. Loki never lacked forethought."

"We may not know all the answers, but we know he tried to steal the tesseract. There is no avoiding that," Huskol said, glancing between Thor and Frigga, both of whom could tell there was more he wished to say but he knew he should not.

"You wish to say something, Geirmund? Please," Frigga offered, and all eyes turned to the supplies advisor, who had stood in the middle of Huskol's statement.

Geirmund bowed his head to her; there was a long silence before he managed to find his voice. "Prince Loki has often been accused of things based on assumption. It sounds like we are all making assumptions here, based on fragments of unrelated information that can be interpreted in more than one way."

The silence remained, and Geirmund remained standing. Thor thought he looked nervous. He was new to his position, and probably not used to speaking before such a group of people.

"But I came to this council for another reason entirely, I'm afraid," he continued after a moment.

"Go ahead," Frigga said, grateful for a change of subject. She'd called this council because she knew she must, but she hated these discussions of Loki as though he were merely a problem, a thing, rather than her son, and this one had certainly not brought them any greater understanding. And what she'd learned about Loki threatening Jolgeir, that she wished she could have never heard.

"Although Prince Loki's warning resulted in a quicker defense of the Felingard Forest, we still lost all three of the grain silos located in a farming area not far from there. We have nine more, but we have almost nothing left to harvest, and many of our fields have been destroyed. I fear they may be deliberately targeting our food supply."

"I'll assign guards to the remaining silos," Hergils said.

Geirmund nodded. "With you permission, Your Majesty, I believe I should return to Midgard to continue trade talks."

"Yes, do it. Do you need Thor to accompany you?"

"Unless he wishes it, no, I've already been introduced to the appropriate people."

"Good," Frigga said as Geirmund sat. "Does anyone have anything new to add?" she asked, slightly emphasizing the "new." "We will discuss Loki further later, once you've had a chance to think about what you've learned today."

"I will have a report prepared on our losses soon, Your Majesty. It was a victory in the end, but a very costly one, and we are running into logistical problems as well. We should discuss it with the full council," Tyr said.

Frigga nodded; Huskol looked down at the one Einherjar at the table who had not yet made the reason for his presence clear.

"Your Majesty," he said, standing, his golden orange cape swirling around him as he approached the queen. "I led the inspection of the observatory and its surroundings following the incursion there. We swept a wide area, including the bridge. We found this there, by the primary gate, but only this afternoon, in our second sweep."

Frigga took the piece of bright red fabric from him. He returned to his seat while she turned the fabric between her fingers and brushed a thumb over it. It stirred something in her, though she could not place it. "A whisper of magic surrounds this. But it is not of Asgard. The material is…strange. Synthetic, not natural. Something of Midgard?" She handed it to Thor.

"It could be," he said, examining it as his mother had, but far less familiar with cloth types. "They use such odd materials. But you think it came from something Loki wore? Since he turned ten I have never worn green and he has never worn red. I don't think he would wear this. And why would he be on the bridge? There's nothing there now. Since the war began we haven't even guarded it."

"Even though it no longer pulses with energy, the bridge may remain a strong focal point of magic. And perhaps he wasn't alone," Maeva said.

"No one ever saw him with anyone else. But it's true some of the Einherjar in the temporary observatory believed two culprits were present. I judged that this was simply because Loki is well-trained," Huskol said.

"I saw a flash," Thor suddenly said, interrupting someone else's response. "To the south, as I was flying over to fight the Dark Elves and the Vanir. I looked, but I saw nothing else, so I continued on. It could have been in the area of the bridge."

"We'll return the guard. We'll double it," Hergils said. "Maeva, perhaps you can assist as well," he added, and Maeva nodded.

"I don't want him harmed. We must avoid assumptions," Frigga said, nodding toward Geirmund.

The meeting broke up a few minutes later, and the Einherjar who had served now began to clear the table. Thor realized they had taken over this duty because the kitchen workers were no longer trusted around such discussions. He exchanged a few quick words with Jolgeir, whom Huskol was already helping out of the hall, and arranged to go speak with him again tomorrow morning, then with his mother, then worked his way down the table past others who wanted a moment with him, to Hogun whose legs he learned were yet stronger, and finally to Geirmund.

"Thank you for defending Loki, Geirmund. He has few friends here, and I didn't know you were among them. I appreciate your reminder. My brother is…disturbed, about many things, and…" He trailed off. It used to be easy to defend Loki. It had gotten harder and harder.

"It's nothing. I just…I know sometimes people assume things about Loki, and…well. Do you wish to accompany me to Midgard?"

"No. I wish to sleep for the next month. But…will you pass a message for me?"

"Of course."

"Tell Tony Stark, or Pepper Potts, or I suppose the voice in the walls called Jarvis, tell them that Tony's assistance was greatly appreciated, but there's no longer any need for him to continue the searches we discussed."

From Geirmund's expression accompanying his agreement, it was clear he realized exactly what – or rather who – Tony had been searching for, but he was discrete enough not to comment on it. Geirmund took his leave, and Thor began the long walk around to the palace's private wing and his own chambers, where he feared that despite how much his body longed to rest, his mind would not permit it.

/


/

Jane lay on her stomach in bed, propped up on her elbows. She'd taken a nap in the afternoon, exhausted from the experience on the bridge, but naps had long been a double-edged sword for her. Helpful in the moment, murder at night. So now it approached midnight and she still couldn't sleep, didn't even feel tired, her whole sleep schedule thrown off. She'd lain in bed for nearly an hour staring at the stars Tony's whoever-exactly-she-was Pepper had sent, before giving up and fishing out the mythology book again.

She wasn't going to read about Loki killing Baldur, much less Loki's punishment for killing Baldur – that wasn't exactly going to help her sleep. Instead, she'd been recalling that passage that first introduced Loki in the Prose Edda, that said something about how Loki often got people into trouble, but at other times got them out of trouble with his cleverness. She hadn't seen that Loki before, but maybe that was the brother Thor loved. And maybe that person was also found in mythology.

She found herself reading a summary of a strange story – they're all strange, she reminded herself, and she supposed she should be used to that by now – about a long journey Loki had taken with Odin and someone named Hoenir, whom Jane didn't bother to look up. They killed an ox to eat – Jane rolled her eyes, for she didn't know much about oxen except that they were big, and she figured, yes, the Aesir must all have enormous appetites like Thor – but the meat stayed raw even though they cooked it. A giant eagle then told them that the meat wouldn't cook unless they gave some of it to the eagle. The Aesir agreed, but then the eagle gobbled up half the ox. Loki went into a rage and hit the eagle with a large stick. Jane drew in a shaky breath, because Loki going into a rage and lashing out sounded familiar.

The eagle got its revenge, though, carrying Loki away, still holding onto the stick, and dragging him over the ground so that his feet got cut up by stones and trees and he thought his arms would be wrenched from their sockets. "He called out, begging the eagle for mercy, but the bird answered that Loki would not be saved unless he swore an oath that he would find a way to lure Idunn, with her apples, out of Asgard."* Loki agreed and was released, then kept his oath, luring Idunn away with some apples. A giant – a Frost Giant? Jane wondered – named Thjazi, in the shape of an eagle, came and carried Idunn away. The Aesir began to grow old and gray without their apples – Jane remembered then that these magical apples were supposed to be what gave the gods their near immortality – and they realized Idunn had last been seen with Loki, so they captured him and threatened to torture or kill him until, in fear, he promised to retrieve Idunn and her apples. Loki took a falcon's shape, found where Idunn had been taken, turned Idunn into the shape of a nut, and carried her off while Thjazi chased them as an eagle. In the end Loki made it back safely with Idunn, and Thjazi was killed by the rest of the Aesir.

Jane stared blankly in the direction of her cardboard-covered window, trying to find some moral or deeper meaning in the story. Maybe Darcy, with her social science bent, could have done it. She'd hoped for a happy story, and while this one beat the one about Baldur and the gruesome death of Loki's sons, happy it was not, even if Loki more or less saved the day in the end. Jane just thought it was sad. Abstracting away from people turning into eagles and falcons and nuts, which Jane didn't imagine she could ever quite wrap her head around, someone else had picked a fight and Loki had taken a metaphorical swing, and then was beaten until he agreed to commit a crime. He committed that crime for the first person, then another group of people threatened to torture him unless he found a way to undo his crime, which he did, risking his life again in the process.

Bad decisions and things spinning out of control.

Jane rolled over and sat up. She still wasn't tired, and when tiredness finally hit, she didn't want to fall asleep with this on her mind. The rose book, she thought, the one that had, by some extremely fortuitous stroke of good luck, been left behind in her room. It made her feel close to her mother, and she enjoyed the scientific side of it, hybridization and plant genetics. And it was nice to look at something beautiful and alive – on paper at least – every night when she went to bed. She'd already read about one rose tonight, but there was no reason she couldn't keep going.

Still, she found herself distracted, and while reading about a rose hybridized in Belgium, out of the blue a number came to her. The number 38. With a deep breath, she put aside the rose book for the mythology book underneath it.


/

*Citation: Sturluson, S. (2005). The Prose Edda. (J. L. Byock, Trans.). New York: Penguin Group. (Original work published approximately 1220).

To "Jacquelinelittle" - please comment/critique/question as much as you like! It wasn't my intent to suggest otherwise, only to let all unregistered users know that I'm normally not able to answer questions in the text of a chapter, even though I have done so a few times. I do it on rare occasion when space permits or the question seems to be a common one.

Did you all see the Joss Whedon quote which would seem to say Loki's not in Avengers 2? I'm sad but not all that surprised. He can't be the villain again, but it could be interesting to see him as a reluctant "Good Guy" - but maybe that ground is covered in Thor 2. Thank goodness for fanfiction to remedy any future lack of Loki!

On to previews from Ch. 55, "Stories": Loki wakes up in - what else? - a bad mood, and more of his world is carved away from him; Loki considers which is worse - starvation or having breakfast with Jane; Jane tries to lay some ground rules...and we'll just see how Loki responds to that; Loki tells a story; Jane tells a story; Loki remembers something from long ago but is bothered by his reaction to it.

And excerpt (Loki speaking first):

"No, no. You've had your chance to speak; I'll take mine now. You wish to hear about Asgard, about the rest of the Nine, about what I was doing before your great-great-grandfather's great-great-grandfather was born? I understand that. I've always been full of curiosity myself. I'll tell you a story, then. But not my story, because that's not really what you want to hear, is it? No, you want his story. So that's what I shall give you. A story about Thor. Would you like that?"

Jane listened with a sinking heart. His expression was congenial, but his tone was full of menace. What did you expect, Jane? You knew this wasn't going to be easy. "I strongly suspect I'm not going to like it, but if you want to tell me, then I'm willing to listen."

"Good," he said with a curt nod. "And I'll swear to you now, every single word of this story will be the unadulterated truth."

Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing, thanks for "favoriting" and "following" - I don't think I've ever remembered to mention that; I appreciate all of it. Thanks for your enthusiasm. Congrats to "igelheim" for guessing there might be a piece of Big Red floating around Asgard now.