If you didn't just read Ch. 97 "Harvest" you might want to refresh your memory on the ending...
Beneath
Chapter Ninety-Eight – Introductions
"Are you serious?" she asked, eyes going wide. "Yes! I mean…no, we can't, you-"
"Listen to me, and don't turn away. There's a tree behind you. Big yellow and brown leaves. On a branch not too far up stands an Einherjar. He isn't easy to spot unless you're looking – his armor and cape help him blend in to a certain extent. We're going to turn in almost that direction, toward a vendor with a big silver cart, about a hundred paces away from us. When we do, find the cart first, then look around you, and at the tree. You'll see him there. All right?" Loki asked, leaning down the whole time and making sure the gray hood came forward around his face, so that no one but Jane would even be able to see his lips moving. He didn't give her much time to think about it – to object – before lightening his grip on her wrist, then releasing it altogether when he turned and she turned with him.
Cart first…cart first…cart- There. She thought she saw it in the distance, through a break in the people surrounding it. The tree was closer and much easier to spot; she'd already seen it from the corner of her eye but made herself not look. Now she looked. He wasn't hard to find, it wasn't like he was wearing camouflage and face paint, but Loki was right – if you walked past the tree without particularly looking you wouldn't have noticed him. There wasn't much to see, really, just a figure dressed the same as the man who'd passed them on the road on horseback, his hair covered by his helmet and his face in shadow. She drew in a quick breath then, realizing his eyes had just met hers, and quickly turned away. It was surreal to think she'd just been looking at Jolgeir, the man who'd told her a little bit about Thor and Loki, and the man who'd now lost his sight and both arms in Asgard's war, but it wasn't as though she'd actually seen him in any meaningful sense – she wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a crowd. She wondered why Loki had bothered to point him out, and thought maybe it was because she'd shown an interest in him before.
"They must have hated this duty," Loki said.
Jane looked up at him in confusion before realizing he was referring to Jolgeir and whomever else had protected him and Thor. "Why?" She knew Jolgeir and Loki had been close.
"Look around. Very difficult to spot a threat in such a crowd." He watched as Jane did look around, but he knew she wouldn't see it as he could, much less how the Einherjar could. He'd enjoyed playing games with the Einherjar and especially Jolgeir in his youth, testing him, trying to slip something past him, to best him. When he'd done it then, though, it had been innocent, he thought, as he caught the not entirely unexpected sound of boots falling into step behind him and Jane.
"Good Harvest Day, sir."
Jane jumped at the voice right behind her. Loki was turning, and she followed suit, every muscle tense. Her eyes widened at the sight of an Einherjar towering above her and, with the golden helmet, even Loki. Then she tried to force some kind of neutral expression to her face which she knew must still look strained, because Loki was right, she was awful at this. He's just a person, like any other…except from a thousand years ago, she tried to vaguely reassure herself as Loki and the guard – Jolgeir? – exchanged pleasantries. Not that the guard seemed entirely pleasant. His face was friendly, even warm, but Jane had spent enough time around SHIELD types to know when she and Loki were being scrutinized in a professional capacity. That was fine, though, Loki knew what to do here, and she'd faced down SHIELD men-in-black and Loki in his horns…but what if Jolgeir recognized Loki despite his hood and the age difference? What if this moment completely changed history? Jolgeir had said he hoped to see her someday…he could never have imagined it would be like this.
"And you, my lady? Are you well?" the guard was asking her. Dark brown hair stuck out underneath his helmet and formed a neatly-trimmed mustache and beard, and hazel eyes gazed at her intently. She was almost certain it was Jolgeir now; though his voice before had come over a satellite link with a certain amount of interference, she thought she recognized it.
"You'll have to excuse her, sir," Loki said before Jane could open her mouth. "Jana doesn't get out of the village very often, and this is all rather overwhelming for the lady."
Jane gave a bracing smile and nodded. All things considered, it wasn't that far from the truth, even if part of her was kind of annoyed that he'd basically just called her an Asgardian country bumpkin afraid of the big city.
"I understand," the man said with a smile. "You didn't exactly choose a quiet day to venture into the city. I hope you'll enjoy the rest of your day."
"Thank you. I'm sure we will," Loki said, as Jane nodded again.
They started off again at a slow stroll. "Was that Jolgeir?" Jane whispered.
"Yes. Jolgeir and others are positioned in various locations to spot possible concerns. When he saw you look at him and no doubt display some reaction, he decided to take a closer look. I imagine he'll return to the tree now. It doesn't matter that he'll be seen doing so; he's not so much hiding as being unobtrusive…but the Einherjar are very good at being unobtrusive until circumstances require them to be otherwise. They're very good at being obtrusive, too."
"Wait, so you…you told me to look at him. You knew he would come check us out?"
"I suspected." He'd suspected – well, known – Jane would draw their attention to them, but hadn't really thought anyone would confront them. That indicated an unanticipated level of concern on the Einherjar's part.
"You used me to provoke him," Jane said, still keeping her voice quiet though she was upset. They weren't supposed to be interacting with anyone and Loki had done so twice now, once with someone he knew really well. She shook her head. For all she knew, he knew the man who'd moved aside for them at the parade, too.
"Provoke is a strong word. I enjoy toying with people sometimes, Jana. It was just a bit of fun. No harm was done, was it?
"It could have been. I recognized you, remember, ten-year-old you? And what if they missed a real threat because they were busy checking us out?"
"You recognized me because you knew I was there. You were looking for me. They don't have that advantage. And trust me, there are plenty of Einherjar about. No one missed anything."
Jane sighed, more of a hmph. Despite what he said before they left, she realized Loki wasn't really going to take her seriously unless something went terribly wrong…and she didn't want to win the argument badly enough to wish for that. She tried to relax and take in her surroundings again; stewing in annoyance at Loki wouldn't do any good and would just take away from the incredible experience of seeing Asgard. They were almost to the big silver cart, still mostly blocked from view by other people, when she suddenly felt Loki's hand pressing hard on her left shoulder blade.
"Jane, turn now," he whispered harshly, ensuring she did so with a controlled push. It was a close call. He hadn't noticed them though he'd known they had to be near, but it was crowded and his view was limited.
"What is it? Do we need the stuff in the bag?" Jane asked, clutching the rose-colored shawl more tightly around her and glancing at her wrists adorned with etched golden bracers instead of the devices that would take them safely back to Earth.
"If I opened the satchel now we would probably be searched. And it might change history somewhat if we suddenly disappeared into thin air in the middle of Central Market. Come, let's look at the fruit," he said, urging Jane a couple more steps forward, though another layer of shoppers prevented them from actually reaching the display stand.
Jane's eyes closed on a sigh. The effect of using their escape hatch hadn't occurred to her. But then, she hadn't known they'd be someplace so crowded, and she'd thought at first that Loki was going to make them invisible, and she hadn't really had time to think it all through in the first place, and-
"Mother, Father, did you see me?"
"Shhh, Loki, your father's talking."
Jane's eyes shot open like saucers. The voices were coming from behind her, and not very far away. A child's and a woman's. Loki's and Frigga's. Against the general sounds of the crowd a murmuring of men's lower voices was there somewhere behind her, too, now that Jane was paying attention, but they were indistinct.
"- see me?" child Loki asked – repeated, apparently; Jane missed the first part, and then began to listen more carefully.
"I did, of course I did. You played wonderfully," Frigga said, warmth and love evident in her voice.
"I only hit a few wrong notes, and I only had to take a breath when we weren't supposed to twice, and the other boys were practicing a lot longer than me."
"Yes, I know they were, but I didn't hear any wrong notes at all, so if you did hit any, you recovered well. You led our young warriors magnificently."
"Mother! Did you see me? Did Father see?" This voice was louder, and a few people's heads turned before they continued on their way. Jane dug her toes into her boots and bit her lip hard to remind herself not to turn around.
"Wait a minute, Father's talking." A quiet moment was followed by laughter. "We saw you, too, Thor. Not a stumble, not a false step, the blade exactly where it should be. Every move was perfect."
"Well, it should be. I memorized that routine ages ago. Ossur should have moved me to the second line."
"You see?" Loki, the one standing right next to her, said in an exceptionally sardonic tone.
Jane spared him no more than a flicker of her eyes, but missed whatever was said next behind her.
"Who's Father talking to?" Thor asked.
"Prince Nadrith of Alfheim. Come, I'll introduce you. Stand up straight and be on your best behavior."
It wasn't anything in particular, Jane supposed, just a steady erosion of will power, but suddenly her resolve broke and she turned. The area behind her and Loki had cleared as people who realized who they were approaching apparently kept a deferential distance, so she had an unobstructed view of the back of a tall woman in bright yellow with a sheer gold wrap draped over her shoulders and flowing down her back on either side of long honey blond hair. Her hands rested on the shoulders of young Thor and Loki, and the three of them moved forward, further from Jane and Loki. Beyond them, Jane could see the spires of a different design of helmet, a hand out to the side around an elongated gold trident of some sort, a flutter of red from a cape. Next to this man she couldn't really see but presumed was Odin, stood a young man seemingly in his early twenties – but who knew, here – dressed mostly in light brown leather, with dark hair and bronzed skin; physically he made Jane think vaguely of someone from a sun-drenched Mediterranean climate. Except for the pointed ears.
She couldn't hear Frigga's or the brothers' voices anymore but now it was the other man, the other prince's, that reached her. "Prince Thor, Prince Loki. It is my pleasure to formally meet you. You've both made your realm proud today in the parade. Prince Thor, you won't recall, of course, but I was at your Welcoming, so we have…"
Loki stepped in front of her. "Let's keep going," he said, not moving until Jane reluctantly did. "It's not polite to stare at the elves, my dear. And you were making Jolgeir nervous."
Jane instinctively started to turn her head back toward the tree.
"Don't" – he quickly continued, more loudly than he intended, dropping his voice again when he had Jane's attention – "turn around and look."
"Okay, okay," Jane said. "We need to get away from here." Loki was deliberately courting risk, and her own self-control here was pitiful. Her thoughts were spinning. Elves and Einherjar and princes and kings and queens. Little boys like any other, eager for praise from their parents.
"One more thing, and then we'll go somewhere else."
She looked up at him warily, but soon they were in front of that big silver cart, and pleasant scents were wafting up from it. An older woman in loose-fitting blue cloth and graying brown hair in a long braid stood behind it and was reaching down into the largest of many bins hidden away in the cart. A smile spread across Jane's face when she saw what the woman pulled out: a granola bar shaped like a county fair foot-long corndog, if not quite a foot long. A "sweet log," she knew immediately.
"Blueberry," the teenage girl next to her said, and the woman reached into one of the smaller bins and this time pulled out a wooden scooper with not blueberries, as Jane had expected, but honey. She remembered then that Loki had told her fresh warmed honey was drizzled over the sweet log, and she watched as the woman did just that. Jane figured then that the different bins had different flavors of honey, which she'd never particularly thought about before, always just buying whatever kind came in the plastic bear-shaped bottle.
"Two, please," Loki said while Jane was distracted, but she wasn't quite distracted enough and quickly looked up at him. He gave her and her predictably worried face a quick smirk. Do you think Asgardian children will starve because we bought two sweet logs?
Jane narrowed her eyes at him and watched the woman pull out two more of the treats, gripping the sticks for both of them in one hand. The smile slowly came back, because she was on Asgard and about to try a sweet log with fresh warmed honey. On Asgard. Not for the first time, it felt more like she was living in a dream than in reality.
"Vindula," Loki said with a nod to Jane, "and clover."
The older woman reached into her bins again and withdrew scoops of first one then the other honey; the vindula, whatever that was, was thicker with more of a yellow color, while the clover was clear amber and more liquid. The sweet log with vindula went to Loki while the woman turned the other one a few times until the honey stopped looking like it was going to drip back off. She then handed it to Jane and Loki handed her some coins that Jane caught only a glimpse of.
"If you're ready, then, Jana? I hope you don't mind another walk."
Jane nodded and bit into the deluxe granola bar, then sighed in pleasure as she chewed. Packaged granola bars were dry, tasteless, stale things by comparison with this explosion of flavor and fresh natural sweetness, and she instantly understood why Loki turned his nose up at them. The scent was gentle and aromatic and lacking in that odd aftertaste that packaged foods sometimes had, as though they'd picked up the scent of their packaging. By the time they'd left the Central Market crowds and Jane was polishing off the last of her sweet log, she'd decided to cut Loki considerably more mental slack in his complaints about the South Pole's food. Not that he'd been complaining quite as much lately. She glanced his way and did a quick double-take. "You aren't eating yours?"
"I got it for you," he said, handing her the second one and taking the bare stick from her right hand.
"I thought you liked them," Jane said, watching as he set the stick atop a narrow waist-high platform made of gray stone, kind of like a miniature column, then swirled a finger over it. The stick disappeared. Where did it go? Or did it disintegrate into submolecular components? Asgardian trash compactor?
"I do. But I've had them many times, with every flavor of honey from three realms."
"Well…thanks, then," she said, and bit into the second, though she wasn't sure she'd be able to eat it all. The flavor was different, reminding her a bit of peaches. Jane had so many questions she needed her notebook to keep track of them, but for now, as they continued onward down a road and turned onto a gravel path into a broad neatly-trimmed lawn, she decided to stick with the immediate. "What's vindula?"
"A plant that grows small white berries, or the berries themselves. It's widely cultivated in the foothills of the mountains," he said, pointing to area in the distance.
"Lucky you had Asgardian money," Jane said, giving him a sidelong glance.
"Don't ask if you don't want to know the answer." He'd made it, of course. For such miniscule purchases the coins would not be checked for evidence of magic. "And before you can point out the risk of putting a few extra coins in that woman's hand, let me tell you that on a festival day like this she sells thousands of sweet logs, and her family is making more all day long and bringing her fresh deliveries. I have not made her the millionaire that history never intended her to be with this purchase."
"I didn't say anything," Jane mumbled over a mouthful of oats and other grains she wasn't sure of.
"You were thinking it."
She looked over at him and his serious expression and broke into light laughter. "Maybe a little. But I wasn't going to say it." Loki cracked a smile but said nothing.
They walked in silence for a while; the lawn led to gardens and courtyards, and the spires of the city began to recede. Loki was glad of it. He would indulge Jane endlessly here, and encourage her to indulge more than she might if left to her own devices – that had turned out to be even easier than expected – but he would not indulge himself. Not in sweet logs or any other favored treats. Not in self-deception that any of this, any of what he'd seen here, was really his. Not in sentiment.
There was a certain pleasure in it, of course, the sense of mischief in being in a place and time he wasn't supposed to, in speaking to someone who walked the same streets as him but had no idea who he was on any level – prince, grown prince, false prince, future king, Jotun pretender. There was a certain fascination as well, different from Jane's, in seeing his younger self so innocent and naïve, in seeing forgotten boyhood memories – such as meeting Nadrith for the first time – through adult outside eyes.
But he'd also felt a strange disconnection from it all. A sense of alienation. He walked among these people now exactly as he was: someone who did not belong. He was keenly aware of it on this trip, more so than his other trips to the past on Asgard, perhaps because this was the first time he'd come here with nothing more to do than walk around, watch a parade, buy a couple of sweet logs, answer Jane's questions, and goad the occasional Einherjar. Everything was familiar, achingly so if he let himself dwell on it, but this was not his home, not his realm, not his family, not his life. He was a myth of Asgard's own making, further embellished on Midgard where they'd ironically enough come closer to the truth with their slander. How sickening it was to hear his younger self's excitement and eagerness and craving for approval, and think that just ten years earlier Odin had snatched him from an enemy realm crushed beneath his boot, and covered up the blue skin and red eyes with an Aesir disguise. Frigga, perhaps, had sometimes forgotten what lay beneath that disguise and thought of him as her own. Odin, he was certain, never had.
"So what did all that sword stuff have to do with a harvest? I mean, do you guys just break out swords for every holiday?" Jane asked, glad to be able to do so in a normal voice again. They were making their way up a slight incline across another lawn, this one obviously allowed to grow a little wilder – the grass was taller, and blue and purple wildflowers dotted it. Well off to her right two people were headed down a narrow road on horseback, but otherwise they were entirely alone.
It took a moment for Loki to reorient himself to question-answering mode; his mood had soured with his thoughts and his instinct was to snap at Jane, but he tried to rein it in. Then he realized that this question wasn't so easy to answer. Not because it was complicated, or uncomfortable as Jane's questions often were, but because he didn't really know the answer. "Harvest Day is not normally marked with swordsmanship or other displays of warrior skills. This one…I suppose because it was the first time it was elevated to a major festival day and they hadn't yet come up with all the elements that would be unique to Harvest Day…the parade incorporated many of the same elements as the Victory Day parade."
"Victory Day? The one that's for the Ice War victory? On your birthday?"
"Yes," Loki said, something tickling at the edge of his thoughts and distracting him enough not to otherwise react to Jane's words.
"And the instrument you were playing…you mentioned it before…two of them…bonepipe and…what was the other one? Because if 'bonepipe' means it's made out of bone, those looked more like wood."
"Bellpipe. And yes, they're made of wood. I played the bonepipe for a short while later, and those are indeed made of bone." Bone from an animal the player had to have killed himself. Loki figured that Jane, with her general aversion to blood and violence, wouldn't appreciate that detail.
"So you were a musician?" Jane asked, surprised. She never would have pictured that, even after he'd mentioned having played those two instruments. She'd assumed it to be more like her friend who'd taken piano lessons as a kid and now couldn't play anything except "Heart and Soul." Loki-the-musician was yet another version of him that seemed incompatible with the Loki who'd tried to subjugate Earth, though oddly compatible with the much more complex Loki she now knew him to be. But then, Loki was shaking his head.
"No. It was just something I did as a boy. I started with the bellpipe when I was nine, because Thor…"
"Go on. I'd like to hear it. I mean…if you don't mind telling me."
Loki sighed, frowned. When exactly was it that I began telling her such things? When was it that I stopped minding? "On Asgard, boys begin their training as warriors when they turn ten. Thor and I were so close in age that we grew up doing everything together, so when he turned ten, I started training with him. One day I was injured, and it was decided that I was too young and would have to wait until I was also ten to continue training. I was upset, and…and Frigga gave me a bellpipe to occupy me in the meantime, along with the opportunity to take lessons."
"Your mom sounds like a great mom," Jane said, conscious of the fact that Loki had referred to his mother by her first name, instead of as his mother as he had a few times when he'd first mentioned her, months ago, and also that he'd apparently hesitated before doing so. She remembered it was one of the first humanizing impressions she'd had of him, one of her earliest impressions that seemed to fall outside the mold of manipulative scary creepy tyrant – that his mother loved him and he her. So why "Frigga" instead of "mom?"
"More than you know," Loki said a moment later.
Jane wanted to ask more about her, but when she couldn't settle on any particular thing to ask, she figured she'd just let Loki decide if he wanted to say more. She had her answer when several minutes passed in silence. "It was really impressive, by the way. The bellpipes and the swords. Scary, though, too. I think if it was my kids I'd be too terrified to have them out there swinging swords around blind, or anywhere near anybody else doing that."
"The swords are blunted. Practice swords. Like butter knives to the Aesir. It's an Asgardian tradition," he said, trying to force himself to think of it as though he were some cultural curator, a tutor to an inquisitive student. Because raised as he was with them, he was never meant to be a part of Asgardian traditions, except for the time-honored tradition of detesting Frost Giants. "Historically, those trained in fighting but not yet warriors would lead Asgard's armies to their battlegrounds by the sound of their bellpipes. They were also used as spotters, to signal the enemy's location. The pipes are very loud, as I'm sure you've noticed, and they were further used to frighten the enemy, to create the impression of overwhelming numbers and the enemy's inevitable defeat. Over time, their role was limited to when visibility was poor, and eventually Asgard shifted to other methods of communication entirely. But it remains part of…cultural memory, you might say. The bellpipers were greatly respected for their swiftness and maneuverability and keen eyes, and especially for their courage in stepping forward with their hands wrapped around a pipe instead of a weapon." At least that was what the books he'd read as a child said. He'd soon discovered that a sword in hand garnered considerably more respect than a musical instrument.
"That's a nice story," Jane said. She felt bad that she couldn't come up with a better response, because it was a good story and she appreciated Loki sharing it, but her thoughts had snagged on the phrase "cultural memory," something her mother used to talk about sometimes, and from there it was difficult not to think about how much she would love to be able to tell her mother about all this. "Did you play in lots of parades, then?" she quickly asked, hoping to keep Loki talking because right now that was easier than her talking.
Loki gave a short laugh. "That was the only one. I was supposed to play in the Victory Day parade, several months before this, but I wound up sick in bed all day. By the next Victory Day I walked in the first line, and the pipers and lines weren't even part of the Harvest Festival parade after this first year. I never-"
"I heard some interesting news today."
"What?" Loki asked his mother as they meandered through the Einherjar exhibit of Statuary Hall.
"We're going to have a big festival on Harvest Day this year."
"Really?" Loki looked up with only mild interest from a statue of an Einherjar holding his shield over his head and bracing hard against an unseen something pressing down on the shield. Harvest Day was a nice excuse for running around the city all day without worrying too much about what others thought of his behavior, and eating a lot of sweets, but it wasn't that exciting. He'd been to Vanaheim's Harvest Celebration several times now – it lasted a week and was much more fun, although there he and Thor weren't quite as free to do what they wanted.
"Mm-hm. There's going to be a parade."
"Oh," Loki said, turning back to the statue and reaching out to trace the lines of the man's muscles straining to hold his shield up, wondering if he'd ever look like that. He didn't want to hear about parades, since he'd had to miss the last one, which he was supposed to play his bellpipe in and lead Thor. "Can we make them fight now?" he asked, jerking his head back around to his mother.
"In a moment. You haven't heard the best part."
"Oh," Loki said again. Mother was smiling, but he just wanted to see the statues come to life.
"The pipers and lines are going to walk in this parade, just like in the Victory Day parade."
Loki's face scrunched up. The pipers and lines only performed in the Victory Day parade. Ever.
"So you'll have another chance to play in a parade soon, if you'd like. Or, if Ossur says you're ready, you can walk in the first line, if you prefer."
It was tempting. It would be fun to walk right next to Thor in the parade, but by Harvest Day Thor might be in the second line. And he could always walk in the lines next time. This was his only chance to finally play his pipe in the parade. "I want to play," he said, a grin lighting up his face, stone Einherjar forgotten.
"You never what?" Jane repeated.
"Nothing," Loki said automatically. She did it for me. All this, he thought, with a glance over his shoulder where the festivities in the shining city continued unseen, this whole day. It was all for me. He swallowed against a lump forming in his throat. It hurt, like a knife to the gut. Why? Why would she do this? He knew why. She loved him. What he didn't know was why she had loved him so much. She knew what I was. Why didn't she tell me? "He kept the truth from you so you would never feel different," she'd told him not long after he learned the truth, implying she'd had nothing to do with it. She'd told him later, in his cell, that it was Odin's decision, and that she'd disagreed with it at times but he had never wavered, so in the end she'd supported her husband. She'd begun to say more, but Loki hadn't wanted to hear it and commanded her to stop. She'd stopped, but not because he had any power to command her. Instead because she'd always listened to him, when he was willing to talk to her. Would she still listen now? Or has she given up on me entirely, now that she believes I've brought destruction to this realm?
"Oh, hey!" Jane exclaimed as they approached the crest of the low hill they'd been walking up for some time now. "I think I just figured something out."
"What might that be?" Loki asked, nervous now about what thoughts Jane might be about to plant in his head next.
"The color thing. You had on a green shirt, and Thor had on a red shirt, and he wears a red cape when he's all…Thor, and your dad wears a red cape, too…and you had on a green cape in Stuttgart and your whole, uh, fancy Asgard outfit has green in it."
"Impressive, Jane. Perhaps next we can work on gray," Loki said, pointing to his cloak, "and pink," he added, pointing to her gown and shawl.
"Rose quartz," Jane corrected, shooting him a brief dirty look. "Anyway, so back at the Pole, when you wouldn't let me get you that red shirt, that was because each of you is associated with a particular color, and you don't wear the other person's color. Thor's and Odin's is red, and yours is green."
Loki gave not so much a nod as a lift of his head as he looked out to his right for no particular reason, along with an impatient sigh. It had been true for over a thousand years, it was known by all of Asgard and the rest of the realms if they bothered to care, and it was hardly a secret, yet Jane was treating it as her latest scientific discovery.
"You said you wouldn't wear yellow, either, and your mom had on a yellow dress, so that must be her color, huh?"
Loki's body stiffened and his stride became uneven before he caught himself. The lie would be one of the easiest in his life. A nod would be sufficient. She would believe it. She already believed it. He pursed his lips. He hadn't brought her here just to show her a good time and fill her up with sweets. He'd brought her here to prove it could be done safely and without any of her feared disastrous consequences. And he'd brought her here to tell her the truth about a few things that wouldn't be easy. Baldur's color was no more a secret than his own or Thor's, so he may as well start now. "At age ten a son of the king is officially titled Prince of Asgard and given a color he and his future family will be associated with," he finally said. She's clever. Let her make another scientific discovery.
Jane nodded, picturing the little Thor and Loki she'd seen today having miniature red and green capes pinned onto their shirts in some lavish ceremony with lots of shiny gold, and the image made her laugh. But only for about a second, before she glanced over at Loki and it clicked. Baldur had had a miniature yellow cape pinned onto his shirt, or something like that, whatever the actual ceremony was. And Loki still wouldn't wear yellow, after all this time. Something else he'd said that evening in the store came back to her, that she should be glad that she didn't remember the accident, that she hadn't seen the moment when the light went out of her parents' eyes. It had sounded a little disturbing, but then Loki said a lot of things that sounded at least a little disturbing, so she hadn't dwelled on it at the time. She'd had no idea that he was speaking from such a personal experience, that he must have watched his younger brother die. "Baldur wasn't…isn't born yet now?"
"I was fifteen."
"Oh." She thought maybe there should be something better to say, but Loki himself had talked around it rather than come right out and say yellow was Baldur's color, so as with his mother, she decided to say no more and leave it up to him. He said she pushed, and he was right, but somehow here, under the sun walking through the fragrant grass in this wide open field on Asgard, there was no rush to ask or to answer. No need to push.
A few minutes later they reached the top of the hill. Loki hadn't seen it in years now, but the landscape below was just as beautiful and lush and peaceful as he remembered it. Things in Asgard changed slowly if at all.
After pausing there at the top for a minute or two, in which Jane enjoyed the view and the short rest, Loki signaled her on, and they set off again, now descending the gentle slope. A small handful of trees here and there provided some shade– they looked like oaks but Jane was no tree expert – but otherwise it was just a continuation of the grassy field with the same blue and purple flowers, and in the distance a line of trees that she suspected hid a brook. She had a flicker of a thought that if Loki wanted to kill her, this would be a great place to do it. "Is anyone expecting you back today?" Then she rolled her eyes at herself, because that was just plain stupid. Loki had killed, but he'd never killed like this, at least not on Earth as far as she knew, a cold-hearted face-to-face murder, and even if he had – the acknowledgement was a strange one – she trusted him completely with her safety, even without the enchantment.
"We'll just go a little further down. When you get low enough, you can't see anything of the city anymore."
Jane followed him and before long broke the renewed silence. "So about that color thing, that-"
"Thousands of years of tradition, reduced to…'that color thing.' How charming," Loki said drily, but sent a quick smile Jane's way to let her know he wasn't actually annoyed, or particularly bothered by the mention of Baldur.
"Uh-huh," Jane said, relaxing a little more when she caught his smile. "That must make your wardrobe kind of boring."
This time the smile came unbidden. "'That color thing' never required me to wear exclusively green, you know. It was an official thing. Oh," he said with a sudden grimace. "Your lazy speech patterns are having a negative influence on me. I could wear gray and pink – excuse me, rose quartz – stripes if I so chose, in private."
"I think I might pay to see that."
"You can't afford it."
Jane laughed. "How much privacy did you get here?" she asked a moment later. "On Earth, the rich and famous don't have a lot of privacy. Cameras follow them everywhere, even to the grocery store or the gym or whatever."
"We don't have quite the same system of media here," Loki said, frowning halfway through as he realized his slip of the tongue, probably not for the first time this strange day. There was no "we" with regard to Asgard anymore. "But eyes were often turned my way when I went out, and it was difficult to escape the attention sometimes." If he went out with Thor, of course, as he so often did, the eyes were not really on him, for few found shadows noteworthy. "Often I came here when I wanted some privacy without feeling closed in. It's not strictly speaking private, actually, few outdoor spaces on Asgard are. But it's out of the way and not often visited by others, and it's highly doubtful anyone will show up in this area today when there are so many activities going on in the city."
"It's peaceful here."
"Mmm," Loki hummed in quiet agreement, then came to a stop. "This is as good a place as any. Have a seat."
"Ummm, okay..?" Jane said with a certain amount of surprise and confusion, glancing at the ground. She'd assumed Loki had some specific goal in mind, something he wanted to show her, and not a seemingly random patch of grass on an isolated hillside.
Loki watched her, and followed her gaze to the grass. "Here," he said, undoing the simple leather tie at the neck of his cloak. He pulled the dark fabric over his shoulders and spread it out over the grass, then sat down beside it, putting his back to the city and stretching his legs out straight in front of him. His right foot was killing him and he didn't try to hold back his sigh of relief at getting his weight off it.
Jane's eyebrows went up in surprise. He didn't quite have the dialogue down but he sure seemed to be trying out for the role of Disney prince. She gave a mental shrug and settled herself down on his cloak, pulling her knees up to her chest and planting her feet flat. He was a prince, and he could be pretty charming when he felt like it. And remembering how startled she'd been when Thor had taken her hand that first time and kissed her knuckles, she supposed that in Asgard, chivalry was truly not dead.
"Look behind you," Loki said once Jane had settled.
She twisted around and looked. All she could see was grass and flowers, a lone tree, a big blue sky without a single cloud. No sign of any civilization at all, much less the tall buildings of the dense city that wasn't even all that far away. "I see what you mean about privacy here."
"It's a good place for thinking."
Jane nodded, though she couldn't help thinking it was a great place to set up a reasonably-sized backyard refracting telescope. She spent the next couple of minutes looking around and trying to imagine exactly where she'd put it if she could. "So why'd you bring me here?" she finally asked when she'd chosen her hypothetical spot and Loki still hadn't said anything else or really even moved.
"You wanted to ask me a question, and I told you I would answer it on Asgard."
"Oh!" Jane exclaimed, remembering immediately. She scooted around so she was facing Loki instead of the trees and brook below. "Your other time travel trips," she said excitedly. It didn't seem nearly as concerning now, now that she'd done it, too. And of course that was why he'd brought her to Asgard's past, shown her things he knew she'd love to see, answered her questions with hardly any reticence at all, suggested she take the opportunity to collect data. She could call it manipulation, but she could also just call it regular old persuasion. He hadn't lied to her, or done anything under-handed. He'd enticed her with all the things he knew would make it hard for her to refuse his proposal, and in the end – the very quick end – she'd agreed. She was a big girl, capable of her own decisions. And she didn't regret this one in the slightest. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind as she acknowledged to herself that the day wasn't over; she hoped she wouldn't have to change her mind. Loki started talking before she could dwell on it further, which, she thought, was probably a good thing.
/
A couple of quick notes for this chapter: (1) Although Jane recalls Loki telling her Jolgeir is blind, that was actually temporary, and he's regained his sight at this point (neither Loki nor Jane know that). That's not necessarily important; it just occurred to me it might be a point of confusion, because it's been a while! (2) How Loki wound up playing the bellpipe in part goes back to the story in Moving to Alfheim; if you've read that one you will have recognized the references to it. (3) Oh! And a gold star for "QQuina" for guessing sweet logs might make an appearance. (4) I keep forgetting things! Guest (June 19), welcome to the story! I checked out Portlandia "one more episode" - very funny. Ha. Don't let them cut your power on my account. And "GoblinCityGirl," when you catch up, same to you! ;-)
Thanks dear readers, reviewers, followers, supporters - the last two weeks have been really rough and your comments were really appreciated, as they always are, really. This has been a rough year, on the whole...but like Jane in a recent chapter, "I am lucky," or as I would say it, I have many things to be thankful for. I count you among them.
Teasers for Ch. 99, which I might title "Revelations," haven't decided: Jane quizzes Loki, but soon finds out more than she expected, and something that someone hoped for in a review not too long ago will happen (now don't go getting overly excited); Loki throws Jane for a loop or two...but Jane repays the favor by the end.
And excerpt:
When it seemed Jane was done with her questions, Loki bent forward and began tugging off his boots, setting them on his other side, eye momentarily drawn to the spot where he could still see the damage one of them had taken from an Einherjar's blade, even if Jane perhaps could not. He next pulled off his socks, and dropped them in the boots. For an instant, he felt young again – really young – and could imagine himself flopping back into the grass, hands clasped under his head, or perhaps taking off and running barefoot, solely for the fun of it. He would do neither. It was time to get to what he'd brought Jane to the privacy of this hillside to tell her.
"I don't trust easily, Jane. But you have…proven trustworthy, and there's something that I need to trust you with now."
