Beneath

Chapter Seventy-One – Window

Thor watched helplessly in the moonlit night, his hand outstretched as Mjolnir slowed, and feared it would not slow quickly enough. Volstagg must have caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, for he turned in time to see the hammer's progress halt close enough to his face for him to reach out and touch it. It flew back to Thor's hand then, and he staggered back a step at the impact of it. He stood there for a moment steadying his breath, then quickly took out three Dark Elves who had broken through the line, and the next thing he knew Volstagg was standing right in front of him.

"Whatever it was, Thor, you have my sincerest apologies."

"What?"

"I assume there's a reason you nearly flattened my skull?" he asked with a laugh that didn't sound quite normal to Thor.

"I…it was an accident. I apologize, Volstagg. My aim will not fail me again."

"Your aim hasn't failed you in many centuries. Perhaps nearly ten centuries."

Thor looked away, out toward the edge of the skirmish, close enough to hear the shouts and the clashing of blades, beyond which the sun was just peeking over the horizon. His aim hadn't failed him this time, either. His vision had. It had blurred, and he'd thought he was aiming at the two Vanir warriors approaching Volstagg's position, but when his vision cleared he realized he had miscalculated their location and motion, and his aim would prove deadly to his friend. I'll just have to take an extra second to be certain what I'm looking at. Or not use Mjolnir at such a long distance.

"When's the last time you slept?"

Thor shot him a look.

"I slept two days ago, along with all the men I lead."

"I don't need sleep. If I sleep while the fighting continues, Asgard looks weak."

"If you take out your own men instead of the enemy, Asgard looks foolish."

Thor's chest puffed up in anger, but in place of a response he pushed Volstagg aside, spun Mjolnir, and let it lift him up and carry him over to where he'd spotted a single Aesir warrior being steadily separated from the others by three Dark Elves. As he neared the ground again he let gravity take him the rest of the way, drew Mjolnir back, and unleashed a brutal downward swing on one Svartalf's head; the fitted black leather helmet was no protection at all. The body crumpled downward and before it was fully prone Thor swung Mjolnir at a second black- and tan-clad enemy, crushing his chest and sending him flying. Now pitted against just one sword, the other Aesir dispatched the third Dark Elf and nodded his thanks to Thor before rushing back to join his fellows.

Do I look tired, Volstagg? Thor asked in his mind, whipping his head back to where he and Volstagg had been standing, but his rotund friend had disappeared back into the battle. Thor closed his eyes for a second against the dizziness that had hit from the rapid movement of his head, then quickly surveyed the fighting around him, selected the place he thought he could make the most difference, and used Mjolnir to take him there.

/


/

"Prince Thor!" a voice shouted from behind Thor as, three hours later, he again scanned the scene to determine where he should next go. He turned and quickly spotted an Einherjar some fifty paces away, clean and shining on a field full of dirty, bleeding men. The precise shape of his helmet told him this was a palace guard.

"What is it?" he called as he trotted toward the man. He recognized him but could not recall his name, and had perhaps never known it.

"The queen has sent for you."

"Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. I only know that Chief Huskol was trying to contact you through the horn, but you didn't respond, so I was sent to fetch you."

Thor, now standing before the Einherjar, turned back to the battle lines. His blood sang his need to stand with his fellow Aesir, but if his mother wished to call him away from it, he assumed he was needed for some other task that only he could perform. "Consider me fetched," he said, taking flight again to get back to the city and the palace as quickly as possible.

Once there, he hurried up the stairs in the private wing two at a time, but was brought to a halt just two floors up by a man in the middle of the stairs going slowly up, leaning backward and hoisting a large chest in front of him. Thor slipped up alongside him and saw that it was Geirmund.

"Good morning, Geirmund. Is it still morning?"

"It is, my prince. And good morning to you as well."

"Are you moving in here?"

"I am. We are, I mean. My wife and I. All of the other advisors have, and the queen insisted that we do so as well."

"It's for the best. You're needed close at hand, and your wife will be safer here. Your little one as well…if…she…"

"Not yet. Three weeks."

"Ah. You must be excited."

"I am. And terrified, if I'm honest."

"There's no shame in that," Thor answered with a laugh. His thoughts drifted back to something he hadn't thought of in a very long time, his youngest brother's birth, which he'd missed because he was too busy vomiting at the mere thought of it, and less specific memories, more faded with time, of the baby screaming for no apparent reason and Thor being convinced something was wrong with him. "You should get help with the rest of your things."

"This is the last of them. And Dagrun has someone helping her put things away. We're on this floor," he said, pausing and putting the trunk down on the fourth floor landing.

Thor nodded and clasped the young advisor's arm. He had not forgotten that Geirmund was one of the first to speak in Loki's defense when evidence was first brought forth against his brother.

"Prince Thor," Geirmund said as Thor was about to continue his path upward. "I go to Midgard today, with Krusa. We're arranging the first delivery of food supplies through your friends there. We depart in about an hour. Would you like to join us?"

Thor sighed. "I would love to join you. Midgard would be a welcome respite. But I'm needed here. Geirmund…," he began, trying to reach and solidify a thought stubbornly hiding behind a fog. "The food they provide…much of it will go to our warriors, will it not?"

"It will," he said with a nod.

"Have you had any input from the Einherjar? What is needed, how it will be distributed and prepared for use in the camps?"

Geirmund wrinkled his brow. "We…have not. I'm sorry, I didn't think of it. You're right, food preparation in the camps is not the same as in a proper kitchen. I believe we're receiving grains that will still need to be ground."

"No one can be spared now, anyway," Thor said with a frown.

Geirmund began to nod but then looked up at Thor with brighter eyes. "Jolgeir. If the Healing Room can spare him, I could bring Jolgeir."

Thor nodded with both relief and frustration; he never would have thought of that. "Yes, Jolgeir is perfect for this. He'll be able to see things from the perspective of the men out fighting."

"As soon as I deliver this trunk, I'll make haste to the Healing Room to see if he can join us."

"Good. Oh, and Geirmund…could one of you…" Ask. Just because you can't doesn't mean they can't. But they don't know her. She-

"Yes, my prince? Please, ask anything of me, and it shall be done."

Thor took a deep breath. Ask. "There's someone I care about there. Her name is Jane Foster. If you have time, perhaps one of you could ask Tony Stark to permit a phone call to her, just to inquire as to her well-being. And perhaps…" Tell her I've been thinking of her. Tell her I miss her. Tell her I long to hear her voice again myself. To see her face. Tell her I wish I could go to her. "Tell her that all is well here. I don't want her to worry. And…perhaps it is best if Jolgeir does it, while you and Krusa speak with Tony and Pepper. And if possible, Krusa doesn't need to know." Krusa was old, Geirmund he did not know well, Jolgeir he trusted with his life.

"I understand. It should be easily arranged," Geirmund said, as Thor looked at the trunk on the floor. He didn't want to see Geirmund's reaction to him thinking of a Midgardian woman while Asgard was beset with war.

"I wish you a productive journey, then."

Geirmund thanked him, and Thor continued up the stairs all the way to the top, where the guard as his parents' doors opened the door for him and he stepped in, the protective magic permitting only immediate family, one servant, and the two guards assigned to this floor access.

"My prince, the queen is in the library," the female servant told him; Thor nodded and proceeded through two other rooms until he reached it, the same place he'd been most recently to hear Huskol's and Jolgeir's cases regarding Loki's potential involvement in the plot against Asgard.

"Thor, it's about time. I was getting worried," Frigga said, standing up from where she sat at the table with Bragi.

"Mother, don't," he said to stave off her embrace. "I'm filthy."

"And we have a laundry," she said, sliding her arms around his chest and pulling him close. "Are you hurt?"

"Nothing serious," he said. "Why have you sent for me?"

"I want you to hear a report from Bragi. Your father was already here. I'd hoped to have you both together."

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear the horn. What has happened, Bragi?" Thor asked, joining Frigga and Bragi at the table and sitting when his mother showed no inclination to stop him despite the blood, sweat, and grime that covered him.

Bragi first filled him in on the protests on Vanaheim that had already been mentioned at the advisors' assembly. "Then earlier this morning, we had more good news. Two of the larger farmers' unions staged protests in Vanaheim yesterday. Their demands involve subsidies for the trade they've lost with us, rather than an end to the war itself, but we'll take any sign of unrest as a good one. And we had the first report of a protest in Svartalfheim, too. Small…but it's a start."

"How small?" Thor asked.

Bragi hesitated and Thor knew the number wasn't going to be high. "A few dozen," he said.

"A few dozen," Thor repeated, the number even lower than he might have guessed. "So a few wives want their husbands to come home. Is this the entirety of our war strategy now? Resting on women's tears?"

"Would you discount the influence of women, because they aren't hefting swords? Do you know how much of the burden of the war our women are bearing now? If the other realms lose the support of their women, they'll be brought to their knees," Frigga said softly, but Thor recognized the sound of a lecture from her when he heard one.

He bowed his head. "You're right," he said quickly. He was tired, short-tempered, and not thinking clearly. He'd been so immersed in the battle itself that he'd forgotten it was those not fighting who were keeping Asgard functioning. The same must be true elsewhere, though not to the same extent as here, where the war was being fought. "But a few dozen protesters or a demand for farming subsidies isn't enough to make any king blink, much less withdraw from a war he's committed his realm and his pride to."

"We never expected this strategy to bear fruit overnight," Bragi said. "And we never expected it to win the war for us on its own. But you know how vastly outnumbered we are. We need every advantage we can gain, even if it involves a bit of subterfuge on our part."

Thor nodded slowly. He remembered that Bragi had been uncomfortable with this plan in the beginning, the use of loyal Asgardians, Aesir and others, to help spread information showing the dishonor and treachery of the other realms, some of it true, some of it exaggerated, some of it with only the thinnest veneer of truth to be found. Thor hadn't been comfortable with it either. He was too tired now to pass moral judgement on it, though. "Their honor continues to be tarnished. I caught a Vanir warrior sneaking into the woods off to the east of the Sekin, and found out he was one of the ones we sent home with Gullveig. He said he was forced back into service," he said, and explained what he'd done with the man.

"We can use this," Bragi said. "Those men took that oath and meant it. Our prisons are crowded now with foreign warriors, but the prisoners are not poorly treated. No one was forced to take that oath, as is clear from the fact that not all did. Did he say how high up this command to take up arms again went? Was Gullveig involved?"

"He…I don't think he said," Thor answered, though he really wasn't certain. His memories were fuzzy, more impressionistic than concrete.

"We can ask. What is his name?"

He thought back with difficulty. "Folgur…Forgur…Fort…Fortur. No, Fotur. Fotur Golfurson. Something like that."

"I'll have someone track him down and get the details, and I'll make sure all of our citizens on other realms know about this."

"Good thinking, Bragi," Frigga said. "Men forced to break oaths made in good faith…few will look kindly on that. Gullveig's arrogance is growing in direct proportion to his stupidity. That can only aid us."

"Indeed, Your Majesty. With your permission?"

"Go," she said with a nod.

Once Bragi was gone, Thor also stood. He felt confused over why he'd been called away from the battle for this, although he supposed it was good in that it allowed him to pass on to Bragi this information that was perhaps more important than he'd realized.

"And where are you going?" his mother asked him.

"I'm sorry. Was there more?" he asked, pausing, his hand on the back the chair he'd vacated.

"No. I simply asked where you were going."

Thor squinted at her. "Where else would I be going?"

Frigga sighed, then rose and stepped around him, placing herself between him and the passageway to the next chamber. "Your bedchamber."

"My place is out there," he said with a vague motion of his hand.

"You haven't slept since the attacks resumed; I asked. That was more than five days ago now. You are strong, Thor, but you are not invincible. You must get some rest."

"Mother, we are at war."

"I'm going to pretend that wasn't insulting because I know how exhausted you are. My son, this war will not end today, whether you're fighting in it or not. And it won't end tomorrow. All of our warriors must take time to sleep, to eat, to treat wounds, and then return to the fight with all their strength. You are no different. And you are a leader. You must set an example for the others."

"An example?" Thor asked, aware that his voice was growing louder but unable to stop it. "Father hasn't slept since it began again either. And if he keeps on fighting, then so do I."

"And you know the price he pays for that ability. I won't have you getting yourself killed out there because you're too stubborn to admit that you're made of flesh and bone just like everyone else. Do you even realize that you just shouted at me?"

Thor took a deep breath and looked away. There was a mild but constant throbbing in his head, and while his strength had not wavered, clear thinking was becoming a challenge. He remembered nearly killing Volstagg. Sending Fotur Someoneson to treat the Vanir without a thought to how Vanaheim forcing its warriors to break their oaths could play with the Vanir citizenry, without reporting it to anyone other than the nearest Aesir healers who knew nothing of this effort. Mjolnir beginning to feel heavy… Perhaps it was affecting his strength after all.

"Asgard needs you, Thor. But we need you for the duration. Not just today."

He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth – not that the back of his hand was any cleaner than his mouth – and gingerly reached for his mother's hand. "I'm sorry," he said, lifting the hand to his lips to kiss it. "I'll sleep. But no more than three hours. I have to get back out there."

"No less than five."

He released her hand, shaking his head. In five hours sunset would be fast approaching. It was too long. "All right, four hours."

"Five, Thor. Did I say this was a negotiation? Even five is not enough, not if you continue to push yourself beyond your limits. Five now, and five more in two days, three at the most. I am your mother, and if that means nothing to you, I am also your queen. You will take care of yourself, so that you can protect Asgard. Do you understand?"

Thor wanted to argue, but he knew it was futile. He was compelled to obey her orders, when she issued them as such. "I understand…Your Majesty," he said, quirking his lips up in a half-smile. He went down on one knee into his most respectful bow, and wondered if this was what old age felt like when he stood up again from it.

"And Thor," Frigga said when he had already walked past her and into the next chamber. "Take a bath."

He looked up at the wood-paneled ceiling and laughed wearily despite himself. "Yes, Mother."

/


/

"Frost Giants!" Odin shouted from his throne.

Thor spun around, whatever words his father had said before forgotten. "Where are they?" he asked. He felt the chill in the air and shivered, but he saw no one. He and Odin were alone.

"Hiding, like the cowards they are."

Thor spun back toward his father, but Odin was gone. "Father!" he called out. His voice echoed in the empty chamber, and frost crept along the walls. "Where are you?!"

He turned away, creeping slowly toward a column to peer behind it. "Father!" he called again.

"He's gone."

Again Thor whirled back toward the throne, sword suddenly in his hand, for that was not Odin's voice. And it was not Odin, he saw. Laufey sat on the throne of Asgard. "What have you done with him?" he demanded, advancing on the hideous blue thing sitting where his father should be.

Laufey gave a casual shrug along with his self-satisfied smile. "I killed him."

Thor's blood roared. Not just his blood, but his voice. His whole being.

"Don't focus on the head. It will be too high for you to reach. Take care with the chest. Bony spurs that we don't have protect it in critical places. To most efficiently slay a Frost Giant, the position and angle of the tip of the sword is critical…"

Tyr's words from training long ago droned on in his ears as he ran with all his might, the throne somehow pulling farther away from him as he raced toward it. Laufey smiled at his efforts, then began to laugh. To mock.

Thor ran and ran, harder and harder, and finally the growing gap began to shrink. Thor's blue eyes locked on Laufey's red ones as his feet pounded the stairs of the dais, and at the last second shifted to one of the spots Tyr had drilled them on and drove the sword in with all his might. It went straight through all the way to the hilt, and the force of the sword's guard impacting the thick blue flesh caused something to audibly crack inside the chest. Shimmering dark blue blood seeped out around the blade. Thor pulled hard on the hilt, the knife slid out, and blood began to pour out through the hole in the leather.

Leather… Thor drew back in surprise, stumbling a little and catching himself on the stairs. He stared at the chest leaking a river of blue, because he could not bring himself to look elsewhere. Brown leather. Gold metal. Gold disks. Hammered velvet fabric. Hammered green velvet.

"So this is what you really think of me."

Against his will, Thor's eyes shot upward and found Laufey's red eyes shifting into Loki's gray-blue ones, Laufey's harsh blue skin shifting into Loki's smooth pale face.

"I always knew it," Loki said, a smile on his lips, from which a trickle of blue trailed down, shifting into red.

"No, Loki."

"It's better that you face the truth, Brother. Lies never suited you."

"No. Loki…"

"You have your wish," Loki said, beginning to slump to the side as his face turned from pale to white. "You have finished me. You've finished us all. Just as you always wanted."

"No! I never meant it! I didn't know! Loki! Loki!"

Loki's eyes fixed on his as he slumped further, and finally his eyes lost focus and his head lolled to the side.

"Loki! No!"

"Loki!" Thor shot up in bed, eyes wide open, completely disoriented. He looked jerkily around him, uncertain why he was in his bedchamber instead of the throne room, hands clenching on the sheet underneath him, wanting to grasp for Loki.

He quickly realized it had been a dream and his shoulders slumped and his chin touched his bare chest. He'd had a few nightmares about Loki after his fall from the bifrost, but none for a while now. None in which he'd killed his own brother. He still hadn't quite found his way back to reality, and for a brief moment thought the entire war was a dream, too.

His head began to clear and he remembered what had brought him here. Five hours. He ran his hand over the bedside table and saw the time; he'd woken about twenty minutes early. Mother will have to be satisfied with four hours and forty minutes. He gave a shiver, and remembered the cold in his dream. All the bedcovers were at the foot of the bed. Either he'd kicked them off in his sleep, or he'd had too little energy to pull them up in the first place when he went to bed, and after his bath he hadn't bothered to put on more than his underclothes. He'd gotten cold and his brain had conjured Frost Giants. That was all.

Or was it? he asked himself. I killed my own brother. No, he corrected himself, I killed Laufey. His thoughts hurtled forward, then lurched to a halt. Such thoughts were wasted in this moment, racing through his head while he sat alone, soon to be forgotten as he once more took up Mjolnir. He got up, grabbed the first undertunic he found and pulled it on, then added a robe. He had twenty minutes. A few less now. He'd already agreed to this time away from the battles. He hurried through his chambers to his study, where the private journal he'd begun writing in still sat from the last time he'd had a chance to use it.

I dreamed I killed you, Loki, he began writing, addressing his brother as words poured out of him with little conscious thought. It was awful. But I thought I was killing Laufey, not you. And in reality, I didn't even do that. You killed Laufey. You risked mother's life to do it. You knew she would be with him. And you let those Frost Giants in there anyway. How could you do that? And what if you had come too late? You could have gotten Father killed, too. Why would you do something so reckless? Sometimes I do hate you, Loki. You put us all at risk. You brought destruction to Midgard. You threatened Jane, and you tried to seek her out. You try to hurt me at every turn. And perhaps I hurt you in the past – Thor paused for several seconds and stared at those words, then marked out "perhaps" – but I never meant to. You are my brother. I don't care where you were born. Again he paused and stared. The words accused. He marked the sentence out. He had vowed not to lie here, not even to himself. I am trying not to care where you were born, he wrote in a rush. There was no time to think too much about what he was writing. You are my brother, no matter your birth. Remember how we would all share our dreams and you would pull out that funny hat and give the wildest interpretations of them? Shameful and perverted interpretations, more often than not. And we would all howl with laughter. Or else wind up in fistfights. What would you make of this dream, Loki? I'm certain it would be something cruel…

He managed to scribble down a few more sentences before he heard the chime signaling him to rise. He left the journal where it was, putting his pen down mid-sentence. He could write all day – there was no bad or good place to stop. He finished dressing in clean clothes, took Mjolnir in hand, called his armor through it, and hurried down the stairs to return to the fight. The hammer was light in his hand, as it should be, and his thoughts were clearer than they had been in days. Sometimes mothers still know best, he thought as he thrust Mjolnir upward and took to the skies.

/


/

It was a complete coincidence that Jane was there for the VOIP call that came in, though when she saw the number and recognized it, she knew that if she hadn't been there she would have just gotten a summons on the radio to come to Comms. She let the Carhartts she'd been pulling on over her other clothes drop back to the floor and stepped out of them to slide into her desk chair. It was 8:30, and she really should be working, but she'd planned to stay in and work from the Science Lab. After she'd caught Selby glancing her way then quickly turning his head a couple of times she decided to go out to the DSL instead, which required a trip back to her room for a wardrobe adjustment.

"Hey, Tony," Jane said after pressing "Accept Call."

"Hey, there. How's my brown-eyed girl? I'm here with friends."

She'd been about to answer when he added the bit about friends, and instead she was momentarily tongue-tied. Thor? she wondered in equal parts happiness and fear. She would love to hear his voice again, but the previous time she'd talked with him on the satellite phone he'd specifically asked her, in a roundabout way, if Loki was there. Lying to Thor…she understood Tony's reaction to that now. It would feel like the worst betrayal of trust. She wouldn't be able to do it. "Um, everything's good," she finally said instead of the witty or intended-to-be-witty thing she thought she would have said otherwise. "I was just getting ready to go out to the Dark Sector Lab…suiting up."

"Yeah? That sounds way cooler than I bet it really is. So, uh, I've got a couple of friends of Hammertime here on business, and one of them wanted to talk to you for the big man."

Jane's eyebrows went up. "Thor's not there himself?"

"He's kind of busy, you know, uh…well, here he is." Jane heard some rustling noises. "There you go. Just talk. She'll hear you, and you'll hear her through this."

"Hello? Lady Jane Foster? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you," she said to the unfamiliar voice

"Ah, good. My name is Jolgeir Randvidurson of Asgard, and I wished to speak with you on behalf of my prince, Thor Odinson."

Jolgeir, Jane repeated in her mind with wide eyes. She hadn't forgotten that name, the blind man who had recognized Loki on Asgard. The person Loki had said he admired. "Hello. I'm pleased…honored to hear from you, Mr…I'm sorry, I haven't exactly met a lot of people from Asgard. How should I address you?"

"Jolgeir is fine, my lady. I am also honored to make your acquaintance. And I have also not met many people from Midgard. None, until today."

"Please, call me Jane. Is Thor all right?" she asked as casually as possible. She wasn't supposed to know about the war.

"He is unharmed. He and the All-Father continue to lead Asgard's warriors valiantly in battle against our foes."

Before Jane could respond she heard Tony muttering in the background, and then his voice was on the line, too. "I guess you didn't get the memo on that one, Buddy. Yeah, Jane, Thor didn't want you to worry, okay, so don't be too mad at him. There's kind of a little war going on in Asgard, and they lost a big trade partner because of it, so we're helping them out with some supplies."

"It's not that much of a surprise, actually," Jane said, rushing ahead. Now that they knew she knew, she could ask questions. "Thor told me a few months ago that there was tension between some of the realms."

"I apologize…although I suppose it is to my prince I shall have to truly apologize. I was unaware that you didn't know. The war is not a little one, but there is none braver than the Aesir, and none stronger than Prince Thor."

Tony cleared his throat. "Okay, I'll leave you to it, then. I'll be back in the next room with Pepper and Geirmund and, uh, the other guy. When you're ready to say goodbye, just press- just tell Jarvis- just tell the room that you want to hang up."

"I understand," Jolgeir said.

"Why is Asgard at war?" Jane quickly asked. She knew the answer, she thought, but most of what she'd learned had been fragmentary, and anything she'd learned from Loki was suspect.

"That is something of a long story. But I suppose one could say that the other realms believe us – Asgard – to hold too much power. We have always held such power, but they say they no longer trust us with it, after Prince Loki used the bifrost – do you know of it?"

"The bifrost? Yes. Well, a little," she added, still lingering over the strangeness of hearing Loki referred to as "Prince Loki." Somehow "Prince Thor" hadn't sounded as strange.

"After he used the bifrost to try to destroy Jotunheim. And when we refused to accede to their demands, they declared war."

"What were their demands?" she asked. Loki had just told her two days ago, and she hadn't doubted him at all, but this was a perfect chance to confirm that he was being honest with her, and maybe get a different perspective.

"Two of our relics, including the one Prince Thor brought back from your realm not long ago, and the surrender of Prince Loki to Jotunheim."

Jane nodded. Exactly what Loki had said, but with even less detail. She wondered if Jolgeir was doing that deliberately or was simply a man of few words. "Why did he – Loki, I mean – why did he want to destroy Jotunheim?" That was something Loki had never told her, except to express visceral hatred of Frost Giants.

She heard Jolgeir take a deep breath before answering. "The Aesir have long hated the Jotuns, and the Jotuns the Aesir. My own father fought them in the Ice War, long ago, under King Odin All-Father. But to try to simply eliminate their entire realm from Yggdrasil…I don't know. I'm not sure anyone does, other than Loki himself. Some say he went mad."

Mad… Can that be it? He doesn't seem mad. Disturbed, yes. Mad… Right, and your one semester of psychology makes you qualified to diagnose stuff like that. "What about Midgard? Do you know why he did what he did here?"

"I'm sorry, my lady. Jane. I do not. He had been gone from us a year already when that happened, and I don't know what took place during that time."

The Chitauri took place. The Chitauri's ruler.

"Though…"

"Yes?"

"I may be overstepping my bounds, but I suspect pride of some sort was involved."

"Pride? What do you mean?"

He hesitated; it seemed to Jane he was reluctant to speak personally of Loki. She remembered then the other part of what Loki had said. Loki admired Jolgeir, but it wasn't mutual. "Asgard values in its men physical strength, a certain type of ferocity, a love of battle and drink. Prince Thor, in most eyes, is the model Aesir. Asgard wasn't always kind to his younger brother."

"I see," Jane said on auto-pilot. She didn't see at all. Loki had already told her that Thor was stronger than him, but he was no weakling. And ferocity and love of battle, he certainly had those down pat. It sounded like Loki should fit right in…other than the drink part. And what did that have to do with pride and Midgard? "So, uh, are you one of Thor's friends?"

Jolgeir laughed, a warm friendly sound. "I wouldn't presume to say so. I am – or, I was until recently – the Chief Palace Einherjar. It means I am responsible for overseeing the security of the palace. And long before that, from the time the boys were able to crawl away from their mother until they turned twenty, I was one of the Einherjar responsible for their personal security."

"Really? Oh, I wish I could talk to you all day long. You must have the best stories to tell."

He laughed again. "I do have stories. But if you're looking for compromising ones, Thor is my prince, and will one day be my king, and some…discretion would be required."

"I think that can be arranged," Jane said with a laugh of her own. "Were you close to them, then, when they were kids?"

"In a manner of speaking. More so to Prince Loki. I was too close to him for a while, really. It was difficult to watch the surroundings when he was always running up to me with something he wanted to tell me or show me. He even tracked down where I lived once, I think he was just five or so, with a book he found and wanted me to read him because he said it had my picture on the front," he said with another chuckle. "It wasn't really me, of course, just a uniformed Einherjar. Close enough for a five-year-old, I suppose. Prince Thor on the other hand didn't particularly care to have us around. He didn't appreciate the idea that he needed protecting. He grew up, of course...and he's learning how to be a good king now. And Prince Loki, well… But I'm sorry, Jane, I was asked to inquire about you. Are you well?"

With difficulty, Jane let go of the millions of other questions she would have loved to ask Jolgeir; she realized he was there with Tony for reasons that were surely more urgent than should really allow such a leisurely conversation. Instead, she assured him she was fine, and, because he showed an interest, she told him a little bit about life at the South Pole, and he commended her courage.

"Tell Thor…," she began before trailing off. What should I tell him? "Just tell him to be safe. And not to worry about me."

"Gladly, Jane. It was indeed a pleasure to meet you, so to speak. I hope to see you in person someday."

"Same here," she said, puzzling over the reference to "seeing" her, and then the fact that he'd been basically a bodyguard and a chief of security…she'd already forgotten Loki had said he was blind. But there was no way she could ask about it without an explanation of some sort for why she was asking. They said their goodbyes and Jane sat there a moment longer staring at her laptop before opening up a search browser and looking up "Einherjar," getting the spelling right on the first try. She thought she might have seen the word before in passing.

She opened up the Wikipedia entry and read. "Those that have died in battle?" she read out loud to confirm she wasn't imagining it. And they ate some "nightly resurrecting beast" with a name she couldn't pronounce and drank mead from the udder of a goat.

Jane sat back, deciding not to read past the opening paragraph. "He sounded really polite and friendly for a dead guy," she told her laptop with a half-whimsical, half-queasy smile. "Although I guess there's no reason dead guys couldn't be polite and friendly."

After finishing getting her ECW gear on or else in her pockets, she gave a quick knock at Loki's room, but either he wasn't there or he had his sound barrier thing up. She trudged out to the Summer Camp jamesway but found it empty, and the DSL, once she reached it, was empty, too. She lost track of time and missed lunch, but when she went back to the elevated station for dinner he wasn't there either, nor did he answer when she knocked at his door afterward.

It made her uncomfortable that she hadn't been able to talk to him. She wanted to tell him about talking to Jolgeir, but she worried how he might react if he thought she'd had a call from Tony and kept it from him. Not that she'd promised to inform him about all outside contact, but still. It wasn't until she was climbing into bed that she thought of using the radio, but by then she figured there was no point. They'd be working together all day tomorrow.

/


/

Two doors down, Loki was also finally settling into bed. He was exhausted from a long day hunched over a screen in the Computer Room until the satellite was lost, then more time poring through Jane's Yggdrasil data, staying up all night Saturday and sleeping poorly on Sunday. The timing was good to go to bed early and get a full night's rest, for tomorrow he would again be Lucas Cane, assistant to Dr. Jane Foster in her research on dark energy and wormhole theory, instead of focusing on his work. Of course, if he happened to run some of thoughts past her on general relativity, closed time-like curves, and active directing of an object's path through Yggdrasil while carrying out her assigned tasks, it would be no more than casual conversation between two scientist coworkers.

It was possible. The more he read, the more he looked at the data, the more he thought about it all, the more convinced he became of this truth. He thought back to that book from Nidavellir, the one whose pages he'd so zealously torn out, and the skit it had inspired him to write for him and Thor before he'd realized how forbidden such ideas were. But imagination was not forbidden in Asgard. He had grown up fighting imaginary enemies, coming up with other skits for class, improvising them for Baldur…. That was a place he wished his mind hadn't gone.

Imagination wasn't the problem. Something about time travel itself was the problem. He closed his eyes and repositioned his pillow. Of course, he thought. Power. It's always about power. Odin has it all. Or at least he likes to think he does. But he can't control time. He's never known all of Yggdrasil's secrets. I will. I will surpass him. I will upend his throne. I will leave Thor in my shadow…

You are weak, Odin, he thought as a moment's lucidity returned while sleep began to overtake him. Threatened by a youth's imagination…

Loki's thoughts soon bled into dreams

Odin sat on his throne, a book pressed against his lap. He tore a page from it, swung his hand out to the right, let it flutter to the floor. He tore another page, then another and another.

"That belongs to me!" Loki shouted. "What gives you the right to do such a thing?"

"I am your father."

"No, you aren't! Give that back to me!"

Odin ripped another page and let it fall to the ground, never even looking at the growing pile of refuse piling up at his side.

Loki vaulted up the stairs to lunge at Odin, to take back his book, but the two Einherjar at either side of the throne easily subdued him, pinning him down on the floor on his back, where he could only stare at the ceiling and listen to the sound of paper tearing. He struggled and raged but everyone ignored him. Thor approached the throne, said something Loki couldn't hear, made Odin laugh. "Thor!" he called, not knowing why he called. He could see him stroll past; Thor never even noticed him laying there.

The guards disappeared and he sat up; suddenly he was in a chair and Odin was much closer, standing above him.

The scene shifted almost seamlessly, and having experienced it several times now, even in his dream Loki knew what was happening. The dream was delving into memory, and the memory would soon twist and warp. He wanted it to stop; there was a brief moment when he thought he could make it stop, when he thought he could simply wake up and end this, but then the dream pulled him back under.

"Where did you get such an idea, Loki?" Odin demanded, towering over him.

"How do you know it was my idea? It could have been Thor's," he said defensively.

"It wasn't mine," Thor said, turning a angry glare on him.

"From a book."

"What book? Where did you get it?" Father was angry, his left eye narrowed almost to a slit.

"It's called The Window. I bought it on Nidavellir last month."

"I want you to get rid of it."

"What? But…it's just a book, Father. It's just a story about a woman who-"

"With whose coin did you buy it?" Odin demanded, grabbing the fabric and bits of armor on his upper arm, fingertips pressing into flesh.

"Yours," Loki gasped out against growing pain. He glanced over at Thor for help, but Thor was still glaring at him.

"You are a worthless child. Untrustworthy. Bringing dangerous ideas to my realm. To Thor's realm. You are a blight upon my name. I should have left you on Nidavellir amongst the dwarves. I should take you back there now and leave you."

"No, Father," he said, shaking his head back and forth in horror. "Please, don't abandon me!"

"The Frost Giants already abandoned you. The dwarves wouldn't want you either. None of the realms wants you, Loki. Not one person in all the realms wants you."

And so it continued, until again he was thrown from the bifrost into a swirling pit of black nothing, again The Other's voice told him he had not been forgotten, again he woke with a lurch and dizzying disorientation, again he forced himself to try to pick apart truth from lie.


/

So apparently I'll be releasing a chapter every 2 or 3 days to finish before TDW comes out. Ha, just kidding, I wish. Not enough hours in the day. But I wrote the next chapter very quickly somehow, so you're getting this one quickly.

"L'Archange": To quote - "Still I can't help but hold hope that something more intimate would develop between Jane and Loki. And I don't mean just a romance. I mean something deeper. More profound. Something with incredible depth and foundation." Keep holding on to that hope! There will be profundity by the end. At least there is when I picture the end in my mind. I hope you will find it so as well, and enjoy it!

Thanks to all readers, reviewers, fellow travelers on this very long journey!

Teasers for Ch. 72: Loki's been hard at work, and seeks Jane's opinion but he isn't terribly fond of constructive criticism; Loki thinks about loss.

Also, a heads-up for the end of Ch. 72: This scene ties back to another of my stories, Moving to Alfheim. It's not necessary to have read it to follow the chapter (what you need to know is provided), but if you want the fuller backstory I'd recommend reading it if you haven't. (It's short...for a story I wrote!)

And excerpt:

"Sooo…that thing you said, about making me blush in a tavern full of drunken peasants? No need to treat that as a challenge, too, you know."

"Why, Dr. Foster, did I make you blush?"

"No. You might've made me a little queasy. Which is just perfect timing considering I was on my way to the galley before I stopped in here."