This chapter picks up right where the last left off...which means it's still Friday, May 28...


Beneath

Chapter One Hundred Six – Oaths

"How did you wind up in this deal with Thanos, anyway? Were you out…wandering the universe with your mind?"

Loki gave a bitter short laugh. "As I said, I prefer my mind and body to inhabit the same space. No, I…" He still wouldn't tell her that. Not everything. She might be induced to feel pity for him, and he couldn't allow that. "I was stuck in Yggdrasil – it's not a pleasant place to be stuck – and he pulled me out. It turned out we had a mutual interest."

"Earth."

Loki inclined his head.

They sat in silence for what seemed an inordinately long time, as Jane thought back over everything Loki had told her. She couldn't help being a little annoyed that he hadn't told her all this before. Maybe it was mostly not her business – it was Loki's life, and Loki's experiences, and it was up to him what he chose to share of it and what he chose not to – but Thanos was still a threat. And maybe Earth wouldn't be his first target, since the Tesseract wasn't here anymore, but now Loki had told her for the first time that this leader of the Chitauri wanted to lay claim to the entire universe, of which Earth was most definitely a part, and Asgard and all the rest, and he was putting together a plan to do it, at least part of which was obtaining the Tesseract through a war he'd secretly orchestrated.

Jane sat up ramrod straight. "That note, or letter, or whatever it was, the message you gave Asgard, in its past, was that about Thanos? Were you warning them?"

"No," Loki answered after a moment of surprise. But of course Jane hadn't forgotten about that. She still probably worried about it. "Would you think it a good thing or a bad thing if I had?"

"I don't know," Jane said, shaking her head, too distracted to consider it. "But you need to warn them. In the present. They need to know what's really going on, who's really behind all this."

"No, they don't. What difference does it make? They're not fighting Thanos. The Tesseract alone won't be enough for him to write his name across the cosmos, and he won't be able to obtain it immediately anyway, if it falls out of Asgard's control. And I have no interest in getting involved. They wouldn't believe me, anyway. What did you call it, calling wolf?"

"Crying wolf," Jane said with a frown. "But Loki, this information could put an end to the entire war! I mean, if all those other guys, Nadrith, all the rest, if they knew they were just being used as…as stooges to some guy they never heard of who wants the Tesseract for himself, they wouldn't-"

"They wouldn't what? They wouldn't want to stand united against Asgard anymore? They would apologize for being such naïve power-hungry fools? 'So sorry, All-Father, we didn't realize who gave us the idea to knock you from Yggdrasil's crown, we'll just go home now.' No one made them go to war, Jane. They're heavily invested in this now. And as long as they think they can win, they aren't going to walk away from it, no matter what unsavory characters Brokk has been talking to."

"There has to be a way to convince them-"

"There isn't. It's too late. It's not that simple now. Maybe in the beginning, before the first lives were lost, before the other realms staked their pride on this…not now."

Jane tried to think it through. It just didn't seem right. Even if it wouldn't make a difference, Asgard had a right to know. The other realms had a right to know. How could they know for certain it wouldn't make a difference if they didn't try? She sat back, deflating in her chair. Maybe Loki's anger at his father and Thor and the rest of Asgard went even deeper than she realized. "If Asgard was going to lose, and you could stop it, end the war, or help Asgard win…would you?" she asked.

Loki's face twisted angrily; he looked away in frustration. He stared into nothing, eyes unfocused, and felt the weight of Jane's gaze on him in return. "I liked it better when I felt no particular need to be honest with you."

Jane's lips parted in surprise, uncertain what to say for a moment. There was truth in his words, truth that disarmed her and instantly swept away the bulk of her growing discomfort – Loki, who'd lied to her with abandon in the beginning, felt the need to be honest with her. There was also untruth in his words. "No, you didn't."

Loki's head jerked back toward Jane, and he choked out a laugh. "Yes, I think I really did." Calmed again now, he took a moment to collect himself. "I like questions with easy answers, be the answer a truth or a lie. Your questions are often not easy to answer. If I'm to be honest with you, I don't know. Why should I help a realm that would gladly hand me over to my enemies? But…my mother is there…and I have no wish to see Gullveig or any of the others claiming Asgard's throne, either. This has nothing to do with the other, though. Gullveig – Vanaheim's king – has always had an enormous ego wrapped in false modesty, and Nadrith…well, he was always smart enough to keep some things close to his chest. Whoever's running what's left of Jotunheim is doubtless thirsting for Aesir blood, and Svartalfheim's Quartet, each wants to outdo the other, they're opportunists. Crying 'Thanos' will change none of that."

"Okay," Jane said after considering it all for another minute or so. Even if some small nagging part of her felt that giving it a try at least couldn't hurt, she could understand Loki's point. Egos were involved now, and getting into wars was a lot easier than getting out of them sometimes. Admitting that a mistake got you into a war…also not easy. Sometimes, maybe, it didn't even matter how a war began, once the fighting started. Only the end mattered. "If that's what you really think."

"It is."

"I'm going to need to at least tell SHIELD."

"No."

"They need to know."

"They don't need to know. Certainly not any time soon. Can they reach Thanos? Do they know where he lives? Even I don't know that. There is nothing they can do to attack, and there will be no need to defend in the near future. Besides, Jane, think, how will you tell SHIELD you learned all of this information?"

Jane let her head roll back on her neck and sighed in frustration. This wasn't the first time this particular problem had come up. "I can tell Tony. We'll figure something out," she said.

"You cannot-"

"Loki, give me a break!" Jane shouted as she sat up again. "There's a threat to Earth. You can't expect me to keep quiet about that."

"There is no threat!" Loki said, shooting up from his chair. Jane jerked back, startled by his sudden movement, and he sat back down again. "I swear to you, there isn't. Not at the moment. Wait until the winter's over, then tell him what you must. But not now. I don't need the complication, Jane, please. I need to get to Alfheim, to Niskit…I need to… I need for you to keep this to yourself until we leave here."

It took a few more minutes of wrangling, but eventually Jane gave in, head in hands. Loki swore that there was no danger of Thanos attacking Earth in the next few months, probably not in the next few years, possibly never. He hadn't yet lied to her, that she knew of, when he specifically swore to something.

That settled for the moment – though it still made Jane uncomfortable – they turned from Brokk and his "more useful friend" back to Niskit.

"When do you think we'll get through all this? When will we go?" Jane asked when they were wrapping things up for the evening.

"We'll see," Loki answered, his gaze sweeping across the papers still left on his desk. "I'll begin testing you on what we've already covered on Sunday, then perhaps another week, if you've mastered everything. You learn quickly and you're good with the maps. I think you'll be ready then."

"We can't go on the weekend. We'll be gone all day, considering how much traveling we have to do when we get to Alfheim. We'd be missed here."

"Yes, you're right," Loki conceded, though he wasn't nearly as concerned about that as Jane was. "All right. We'll aim for Monday."

"Not Monday. House Mouse. Same thing."

"Not if I win us another week off," Loki said with a brittle smile. Jane never ran out of excuses to tell him no, it seemed.

"You should maybe stop doing that every single week. We should be doing our fair share of the work around here. Anyway," she continued when Loki rolled his eyes at that, "how about we plan for Tuesday, then?"

Loki nodded, feeling tired in the defeat, and after a day of delving into things he'd thus far felt were better left unspoken. "Fine. Another day or two shouldn't make a difference. But you will be ready by then, and I will test you thoroughly to ensure it. We go to Alfheim on Tuesday."

Jane nodded, trying not to put too much thought into Loki's intent to test her "thoroughly." They had a date. Today was Friday, May 28. On Tuesday, June 8, they were going to Alfheim.

/


/

Thor flew over treetops and then over buildings and gardens and parks. His eyes darted over the structures and the open spaces below him, the beautiful city with its towers and spires and the grounds where trees and grass and shrubs and flowers grew everywhere its planners could contrive to put them. It was peaceful there, and quiet. Eerily quiet, really, with both the toll the war had taken and the constant concern that a small portal could open through Asgard's defenses, just large enough for a few men to come through one at a time. Heimdall was watching carefully for that, of course, and sentries remained in place across the city ready to sound the alarm.

At the moment, Thor was less concerned about small portals than massive gaping ones that could disgorge thousands.

A sixth tower in the wall had come down. Unlike the others that had been destroyed by repeated concussive blasts or simply strike after strike of handheld weapons and ramming tools, before this section of wall Light Elves and Fire Giants had decimated already thin Asgardian ranks and the Fire Giants had brought through an enormous battering ram which they used to dislodge the tower right from its base before Asgardian reinforcements arrived and slew all but a few of the enemy who escaped through another portal or were taken prisoner. The Aesir were becoming less willing to take prisoners as prison populations outgrew each new structure built to hold them and as the Aesir casualties mounted.

When Thor arrived at the site, the tower was intact, but only about half of it still rested on its foundation, ready to tip over and break into rubble. Outside the wall, it would be difficult to find a patch of ground to stand upon for all the bodies. The reinforcing warriors and the field healers had already pulled the Asgardians from the carnage, the wounded and the dead, and a lone figure with prominent blue shoulder markings now picked his way gingerly over the field, seeking for signs of life among the enemy casualties. Thor wondered if it might be that young man he'd met in the Healing Room after the explosion, the one who was nineteen and so eager to fight. He could no longer remember the boy's name. He wondered briefly if the boy wanted to fight all the more now, seeing how dire the situation was becoming, or if he were grateful to be needed as a healer instead.

Inside the wall the ground was much clearer, some of the wounded were still being treated, and engineers and builders were scurrying about setting up equipment to try to brace the tower to prevent its collapse.

"Thor!" First Engineer Fjolvar called, hurrying toward him from the side of the tower so quickly he tripped over a random boot lying on the ground.

Thor stepped forward and caught him before he could fall. "Fjolvar, can you save it?" he asked, swallowing back anger at being called here for this. A sixth tower not doing its part to anchor the shield over the city was a serious situation – Fjolvar had warned that it was with the loss of seven towers that the risk of portals breaching the shield began to increase – but Thor already had to leave for the evening's Assembly in a few hours, and would have been informed of it then. For right now, he was of better use to Asgard fighting the enemy, closing portals, and preventing the loss of still more towers than standing around talking to engineers.

"With sufficient time and workers, yes. But we don't have enough of either. I pulled these men and women off work on a tower to the north that we've almost got repaired so we could stabilize this one. But to get it back into place so it reconnects with the power supply properly and actually contributes to the shield…that will take time. I was hoping you could speed things up."

"Me?" Thor said, eyes squinting tiredly – every time he stood still for more than a minute or two the exhaustion crept up on him, pressing unpleasantly at his eyes and passing a veil over his mind that made him struggle to concentrate and think clearly. Some part of him that stood removed from all this – a part of him that also crept up on him when stilled – almost wanted to laugh that they wanted him to assist in construction work while thousands of enemies were slowly overwhelming Asgard's defenses. Or does he want me to give his workers a rousing speech? I'll no longer fight for Asgard, but merely give speeches to those who do.

Fjolvar was nodding. "It is also a tool to build…isn't it?" he asked, glancing pointedly at Thor's side.

Thor looked down and his eyes fell on Mjolnir, almost as though he'd never seen it before.

"Its power has no equal – as a weapon, to destroy, or as a tool, to build…"

He remembered that day, not so long ago but from another lifetime. Reveling in the fervor of the masses and grinning and winking and tossing Mjolnir to encourage their adulation, he'd meant his oaths spoken in such high confidence and zeal, but he hadn't much thought about them, either.

"Do you swear to preserve the peace?"

He hadn't given even a second's thought to what that meant, to the degree or responsibility it would require of him, responsibility he'd promptly proven himself incapable of when he'd struck the first blow with a smile on his face on Jotunheim and thrown away a thousand years of peace, all in response to a single childish insult. He hoped he was doing better now, even though there was no peace to be found in any corner of the Nine Realms, except, he supposed, on Midgard.

"Your Majesty? Can you assist us? I believe it will go much more quickly with your help. Then we can get back to the one we've almost repaired, and then we'll be back to four towers down."

"But in the meantime, our enemies press on, and our wall is more vulnerable to further losses if I'm not there stopping them."

"Yes, I understand, and I would not request your assistance with anything else, but in this specific instance, the benefit from getting this tower quickly and safely back into place will… Your Majesty."

Thor forced his attention back to Fjolvar from out beyond the wall.

"Every man here wishes he could be out there fighting, and many of the women, too. Battle sings in their Aesir blood the same as any other. But with their skills, the best thing they can do for Asgard is to repair the fallen towers as quickly as they can, to keep the shield in place and protect our city and our citizens. This is how we fight."

Thor stared, no words coming for a moment. Then his gaze drifted back out over the wall again. Fridulf. That was his name. He'd spoken nearly the same words to that apprentice healer at the start of the war. Had he not expressed a similar sentiment to the Assembly? Had he not even meant those words, that someone else had to repeat them back to him? "I apologize. I meant no disrespect. I haven't used Mjolnir as a hammer was originally intended in a very long time. But your efforts allow the battles to remain outside the city, and if I can help you get one of these towers back into position quickly, then of course I'll do so. We need these towers. Tell me where and when to strike."

/


/

There was an art to it, really, as with the building arts in general – a hammer could be brought down at different speeds, different angles, with different degrees of force – and Thor had spent far more time learning to use Mjolnir as a weapon to destroy than as a tool to build. He was not entirely inexperienced in it, though, and Mjolnir, of course, was no mere hammer, but a hammer forged of rare precious metals and imbued with power and mystical magic. Two hours later, the tower was back on its base and part of the system again, putting the number of downed towers at five instead of six, and Thor was off to Assembly.

Sitting at the long table, Thor's gaze lingered on the somber faces of his advisors as each person gave his or her reports. Just two months – not even quite that – it had been since they'd sat at this table, his father sitting in the chair he now occupied, as jests and tales spilled out alongside mead, as Volstagg composed verse and Bosi proclaimed to raucous laughter that Asgard would send Sif, Maeva, and his mother-in-law to defeat the Fire Giants. He thought he'd understood, even at that early date, what war was. He and his friends had been injured; others had died. Now, though, he saw himself as terribly naïve then. He'd understood nothing. He'd fought in small conflicts, battles limited in both time and scope, and taken that for the meaning of war. He'd never imagined any of this. Casualty numbers that grew every day. More towers imperiled, more fields destroyed, more villages burned, more outposts overrun. This was not what he'd spent his life secretly and not-so-secretly dreaming of, despite the obligatory nods and oaths to the idea that peace was preferable.

Just two months had passed, but he felt centuries older, a millennium, even.

There were bits of good news, to be sure. Vigdis had conveyed a message to Brokk about a hidden weapons cache at an Einherjar encampment; the area was abandoned, its men out fighting, the cache itself small but arranged to look as though it were much more significant. Warriors from Nidavellir destroyed the entire area with gusto before Asgardian warriors "happened upon them" and decimated the surprised enemy, allowing a few to escape to report back that they'd accomplished their goal. This was where the use of Vigdis to deliver false information grew complicated: if Brokk ever realized she was delivering false information, at best she would cease to be useful, and at worst Brokk would hatch a plot of his own, perhaps killing her before her protectors could act, or somehow using against them Asgard's belief that he still trusted Vigdis's information.

A protest on Vanaheim had turned violent – not good news of itself, but a possible indicator that unrest there over the war and Gullveig's handling of it would grow, and attempted coups were not unheard of there, though successful ones were unheard of. An imprisoned Fire Giant was overheard by an Einherjar discussing a rumored coup on Muspelheim – Asgard had little insight into events on that realm at the moment, with just one of Bragi's people there, and this could mean unrest was present there as well; on the other hand, given the frequency with which coups happened on Muspelheim, it could mean there'd been a bad harvest or a sportsman favored by the king had lost a major competition or someone simply slept poorly the night before. But if a coup took place, might the new king be less inclined to send so many giants to the slaughter on Asgard?

The smaller War Council continued to discuss options for pursuing Gullveig while getting nowhere, but now there was Nadrith to deal with as well, though as a prisoner of war there were standards in how he must be treated and ways he could not be used. Such was not the War Council's normal purview; they were better prepared to discuss war strategy, and had thus far done well coming up with ways to use Vigdis. Thor had not attended since Nadrith's capture two days ago – Tyr or Volstagg informed him afterward, and conveyed back any thoughts Thor had on what they discussed. He usually had little to add, for he had no time to make all the plans and strategies himself.

Standards for treatment of prisoners were codified in Asgardian law, but while Nadrith's treatment was well within the law – other than when Thor threw him to the ground unnecessarily, which he still could not bring himself to feel guilt over – the rest of the prisoners' was now in violation of it, and this was a concern on multiple levels.

"The sheer number of them has simply outpaced our ability to keep them appropriately housed. I don't know what else to do, Your Majesty," Isolfur said. Facilities Advisor Bosi, who normally had responsibility for Asgard's prisons, had appointed him to the new position of Prisoner Maintenance Advisor six weeks earlier, when it became clear this would be a significant problem, and one Bosi did not have time for with so many other pressing issues straining the realm. The man was thin and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. "Our builders are working constantly, just three hours of sleep every other day, and every single one of them has taken on at least one apprentice, many of them inexperienced women and youths, and we even have children hammering nails. But Fjolvar keeps pulling them away to shore up the towers on the wall. I know we have to take care of the towers, but we also cannot have prisoners crowded so tightly into cells they have to sleep standing up! Not only is it against our own laws, but it's a serious safety issue as well. We run the risk of our captives overwhelming our captors, and we can hardly pull Einherjar from the battle simply to stand guard."

"No, we cannot," First Einherjar Hergils cut in. "We have lost far too many already. If our enemies breach the wall, they can release the prisoners themselves and hand out weapons. Closing off as many portals as we can" – he nodded to Thor – "greeting their attacks with our own, and defending the wall must be our priority."

"I understand that, I do. I just…I just don't know what else to do," Isolfur said in desperation. He was half a millennium older than Thor, but he sounded like a frustrated youth.

Overwhelmed, Thor thought. He is overwhelmed. Perhaps he doesn't realize that the rest of are, too, just because we don't show it as much. He would need to talk to Isolfur, or perhaps his mother could. He turned his gaze toward her a moment, and she lowered her eyes in a slow blink; he was certain she understood.

"This also damages our credibility in our efforts to ensure we're seen as the honorable realm, maintaining our principles despite the other realms' uncalled for aggression, in hopes of turning key populaces against their rulers," Bragi said.

"Your Majesty, this may seem strange, but…could Midgard send us builders?" Public Welfare Advisor Oblaudur asked.

Thor wrinkled his brow; it was less strange than entirely unexpected and it required some thought. "I don't think so. Midgardians lack our strength. I was there briefly after…what Loki did there, and saw how they build. They use massive machines for the lifting, and their materials are not like ours, much more fragile. I don't think their builders would be much help…unless you need more nails hammered. And we would have to take great care that their presence wasn't detected. We can't let this war engulf Midgard, too. Perhaps their building designers may be of some help?"

Bosi shook his head. "I'm afraid not. For both the prisons and the towers we use standard designs, and they're interwoven with magic."

"Can we release more of them on their honor not to return to the fight?" Thor asked, surprised no one had thought of it earlier.

"Not to Vanaheim," someone at the far end of the table muttered.

"Why not to Vanaheim?" Geirmund asked. "I know, Gullveig may send them right back, but won't that add to the unrest there? We could be honest with them. Explain that we're doing everything we can to house them according to law, but our resources are stretched too thin."

"Admit to them that we're barely holding this realm together?" Krusa asked, his voice heavy with skepticism.

"They aren't stupid and they aren't blind."

"Some of them are stupid," Bosi said with a shrug.

Thor frowned, but noticed a few others with various versions of restrained smiles. He couldn't begrudge them a moment of at least a little levity. He signaled for another slice of bread to have with his stew, then nodded at Geirmund. "Go on."

Geirmund nodded back, then glanced around, a bit of his old nervousness returning, it seemed. "I just mean that they already know the superiority of their own numbers. Could there possibly be anyone in the Nine Realms who couldn't guess that our resources are strained by sustaining a defense against a continuous onslaught of overwhelming numbers? So what if we admitted that, and tell them that we cannot even sleep at night knowing the worsening conditions of the prisons and being unable to better care for the honorable warriors held in them. Is it untrue?" he asked, inclining his head toward Isolfur. "And what if we then presented this offer to them, to let them depart on their honor, but we also tell them about what King Gullveig has done, so that they're aware of it and can take it into account in making their decision. We…we could even make them a further offer, as part of their oath, that if they are forced to come back, they will find a way to not fight but instead surrender themselves, and serve in good faith in some capacity. Healers, cooks, cleaners…something that frees our people for other tasks like rebuilding towers. We present ourselves as the more honorable party, being truthful with the prisoners and offering them a choice, and if any of them do return, if they are men of honor we will have gained a bit of free labor which we desperately need."

"Not free, we would have to compensate them," Law Advisor Finnulfur immediately put in.

"Fine, we can compensate them. That wasn't my point. Your Majesty," Geirmund said, leaning forward in his earnestness, "the other realms have presented this as a mere game of numbers from the start, have they not? 'Give in, you cannot possibly withstand our combined forces.' And everything we've been trying to do is make it not about numbers."

Thor looked around the table. He knew what he thought, and the raised eyebrows and murmurs and nods suggested what the others thought as well. But if they did this, if they released thousands and thousands of prisoners, not just the few hundred they had before, he wanted to be certain where the rest of his advisors stood, and whether any knew of any reason for opposing, other than the obvious uneasiness that significant numbers of the enemy could make false oaths. "A vote, Bragi," he said, turning to the oldest man at the table.

"A vote," Bragi acknowledged with a nod, and less than five minutes later the decision was made.

"I leave it to you and whomever you designate to arrange it, Bragi," Thor said. "Anything else, Isolfur?"

The newest advisor simply shook his head, his chest visibly moving with his heavy breaths. Thor was glad one of them would have some more peace after this meeting.

"More groaning, Heimdall?" Thor asked. A couple of nervous laughs came from around the table. A couple of days ago Heimdall's report had again included this mysterious "groaning."

"Not today, Your Majesty. Yggdrasil is quiet."

"But we did register more elastic seismic waves yesterday," Natural Environment Advisor Vafri said. "The phase waves were larger this time, but still nothing that could be felt."

"Has anyone consulted our scholars about this?" Thor asked. Everyone was unsettled by it, for no one had any idea what to make of it, much less what to do about it.

"Those that were available, I asked," Vafri said. No one, of course, was sitting around undertaking scholarly work at the moment. "None had any insight to offer."

When no one else had anything further to add, either, Vafri continued with his own report. He noted that the fish populations in the rivers the Frost Giants had cut off had yet to recover, but that his people believed they were nearly there, while the impact on other wildlife that depended on the rivers was not yet known. It was important – everything related to the food supply was vitally important – but so was everything else. Thor nodded in the right places, but it was as Vafri spoke that he began to truly chafe at having to present here. He felt more confident in leading these meetings, in his relationship with these advisors as his advisors, and in his own contributions and judgement, but much of what was discussed went beyond what he actually dealt with as a king in wartime. Vafri delivered his report succinctly, and though the Assembly did need to be kept abreast of such matters, whatever happened with the rivers would have nothing to do with him. He decided that he would speak to his mother about it afterward.

"Your Majesty…I must add something which is…not easy to say, nor will it be easy to hear," Hergils said as preface after reporting on the state of the Einherjar. The few who were still eating put their utensils down, and cups went down as well. It was plain from his tone that it would also not be pleasant.

"Go ahead," Thor said, suddenly and uncharacteristically nervous that Hergils had some critique of him to make, some error or oversight of his to point out. He would prefer to hear such a thing in private, but perhaps it was best done here, where he could immediately address it in front of everyone.

Hergils rubbed down his long mustache, cleared his throat, and spoke. "Last night one of my Einherjar came to me with something he'd overheard from a few of the civilian warriors. They'd just fought a terrible battle, barely managing to force back a combination of Dark Elves and Vanir. Our losses were heavier than usual. A small group of men, afterward, well, to be blunt, they wished to see us accede to the demands of the other realms."

Epithets rose up from around the table – cowards, scoundrels, traitors, and worse. Thor knew, as he took in the others' reactions, that he would have once reacted that way as well, would have demanded their names and thrashed them within an inch of their lives for their shameful disloyalty. "They see no cause for hope," Thor said. "They see the continued losses as pointless, because they believe we will be defeated in the end regardless."

Hergils nodded, as the condemnation around the table turned to surprise fixed on Thor. "They do, Your Majesty. The realms' demands are well-known by now. They said we had no need of the Tesseract, if the Frost Giants act up we can defeat them like we did the last time, and…they blamed Loki for all of this, and saw no reason why he shouldn't face punishment on Jotunheim for turning the bifrost against them. I'm not sure how it is that they even know about that, but everyone seems to know it now."

"The other realms knew somehow," Thor answered, somewhat distracted. Their warriors could have said something, and rumor spread easily.

"Our realm is not immune to unrest," First Palace Einherjar Huskol said.

"I speak only of this group, of course," Hergils put in quickly. "But this was one group overheard. It is uncomfortable, but we must, I believe, ask ourselves, how many have not been overheard? How many hold such sentiments, but do not wish to be branded cowards and traitors and thus never speak them aloud? I don't wish to unnecessarily alarm, or to…make assumptions about my fellow citizens. But it is something we must be aware of."

"The oaths we all take as citizens of Asgard call for us to fight the enemy down to the last person left alive," Volstagg said quietly. "I remember swelling with so much pride when I made it that I thought my chest might explode."

Thor waited for the sarcastic comment about Volstagg's chest indeed exploding, at least in size, but it did not come. Every man at the table was remembering his own oaths, and how deeply and purely he'd meant them. Maeva and his mother had taken similar oaths and were no doubt thinking the same.

Oaths said with youthful zeal, healthy and hale and surrounded by friends and family, became something else when all around you was death and destruction and you saw no possible end in sight except your own defeat.

Thor exchanged a look with Volstagg and knew they were thinking the same thing. Everyone here who'd been part of the fighting beyond the wall probably was.

"If they feel our fight is hopeless, then we must find a way to give them hope," Maeva said.

Thor nodded, and forced away his own flicker of unease over whether there truly was hope of victory. "I wish we could tell them of Midgard's support. That we are not entirely alone."

"With respect, Your Majesty, I doubt that would be of much reassurance," Bragi said.

"They may think what they will of the Midgardians, but our people's bellies are full because of them. This bread we eat here today is made from Midgardian grains," he said, gesturing at the bit of crust left on his place. "But Midgard's support must remain secret."

"You've been speaking to the warriors, haven't you?" Frigga asked.

Thor turned to her, startled. It was the first she'd spoken at this Assembly, other than to voice her vote with everyone else earlier. "I have," he said, a question in his voice. "They seem…enthused when I speak with them."

A smile flickered over Frigga's face, a mother's smile, incongruent in these circumstances but warming nonetheless. "I'm sure they are. We could begin gathering encouraging stories from the war, and you could share them with the warriors. You could tell them about the towers, how too many had fallen, but you helped our builders get one of them right back on its base and functioning, and how our builders have almost finished repairing another. Tell them of battles we've won in crushing victory, tell them of our successes, of the support of their fellow citizens who do everything they do now for them, our warriors."

"Specific examples," Thor said.

Frigga nodded.

Thor nodded back, and others began to offer stories of encouragement, while Bragi recorded them.

/


/

"You said little tonight," Thor remarked as he entered the chamber at the very peak of the palace, Frigga in quiet companionship at his side.

"I said all I needed to." Thor was doing well, growing more comfortable in his new position, and she did not wish to detract from it or create any sense of confusion over who ruled Asgard, by speaking up more often than necessary.

Thor nodded. "I value your opinions."

"Thank you," Frigga said in amused acknowledgement. She wasn't certain he'd ever said anything quite like that to her before. He'd always valued Odin's opinions – as long as they didn't diverge too greatly from his own – but with her he had a different relationship. Respect, yes, she knew he respected her, and not just as his mother. But this was a different form of respect from him. She was sufficiently confident in herself, and certainly experienced enough, to not need that form of respect from Thor, or to feel grateful for it, but simply found it a rather interesting and vaguely ironic development.

"When do you think he'll wake?" he asked as they approached the bed specially constructed for his father's Sleep.

"There's no way to be sure. Too much is different. The pattern doesn't hold." She took her usual seat with Odin at her right, peered closely at his face, then scooped his hand up lightly in hers.

"Mother…"

"Go ahead." She thought she knew what he wanted to ask, but it was up to him to ask it.

"I'm concerned with how much time I spend away from battle. I know I have other responsibilities now, and there are some things I must step away from it for…but I'm pulled in too many directions. You're already doing so much for me, taking on so much of the responsibility, but…would you…" Version after version of that question ran through his mind. Would you mind? Could you do it if it wouldn't be inappropriate? Do you think it would be all right? But he was king now. He needed to state his request, and if she felt it was inappropriate, she was not timid; she would say so. "Could you attend Assembly for me, in my name, and provide me with a brief summary afterward? Or someone else, whoever is appropriate. I would attend in person on those days I come in to sleep." The time during which he'd slept out in encampments with the warriors had been brief; since he became king and shouldered more responsibility for things beyond the fighting itself, it was more practical to get his sleep in his own chambers in the palace.

"Yes, of course," she said. It was indeed what she'd expected. She'd caught the brief look of exasperation on his face as Vafri spoke of the rivers' health. "I presided over the Assembly during the Ice War for your father. I don't think I've forgotten how." One side of her mouth drew up into a slight smile.

Thor nodded, relieved. There was some guilt in it, too, but he felt it was the right decision. "My focus has become too…divided." He shook his head at himself. "I never imagined that decisions about how to use my time would be among the most difficult things I'd face as king."

"A king has many demands on him, and on his time, even in peace. You did know this. How many times did your father miss dinner with us in our chambers? How many outings did the three of us make – you, Loki, and I – without him? It wasn't because he didn't want to be there."

"I know. And I understood it, I think. Somehow I never really made the connection that it would be the same for me." He gave a short laugh and stepped in closer, to look down at Odin's aged face. "I suppose I always assumed I'd simply get others to do the work for me."

Frigga laughed then, too. "Which is in fact exactly what you're doing."

Thor felt his cheeks heating, even though he knew she was just teasing.

"You're doing as you should, Son," she said, rising and releasing Odin's hand to take both of his. "You're doing well. But this is not the best use of your time. Go get your sleep, and when you rise a servant will have the details of where we shall meet tomorrow evening, all right?"

He bent down to kiss her cheek as she kissed his, then they bade each other good night.

/


/

Why do you hate him so much? Thor wrote in his private journal, sitting up with his back resting against a pillow and the bed's headboard. How was he any different from Mother? She told the same lies he did, yet you still embrace her. Is it because he was pulled away from us so much, growing up? He was king, Loki, we both knew that. I thought we both understood it.

He sighed and his gaze went vacant. He remembered testing his sword against his father's through the palace corridors while Loki stood to the side and watched. Had Loki laughed and cheered for them? Was he waiting for his chance to join in? Did he want to join in? Was he standing there fuming with resentment because he was just standing there while Thor trained against his favorite trainer in the Nine Realms – an experience all the sweeter because it didn't happen often, especially as he grew out of his childhood – and had that resentment boiled over into hatred? Thor had no idea what Loki had thought about such things. He supposed he hadn't paid any attention.

Did you truly feel so disfavored? Thor only thought it at first and did not write it, but then remembered his vow that he would be thoroughly honest in this journal, even when his thoughts were uncomfortable. He wrote it. Then he added, Were you so disfavored? I never thought so. Sometimes I thought you were more favored. Especially by Mother. I was envious of that at times. I can hear you laughing at me as I write this, but it's true. For all I teased you for it, you had a closeness that I never quite understood and never quite shared. Is that how you felt about me and Father? Yes, I was closer to him, it was easier between us somehow than between you and him, but it wasn't the same as the way you were with Mother.

Thor put down his pen for a moment. His thoughts were running away, and not making much sense any more. He was almost out of the few precious moments he allowed himself for this; he needed to get his sleep so that he could return to the fight refreshed.

I had an interesting exchange with Fjolvar today. I offended without intending to, I think – how many times have I done that in the past? I gave the impression that builders' work was less important than warriors' work. Yet without the builders our wall would be short six towers now, when instead we are only down five, with one more expected to be back up by tomorrow or the next day. "This is how we fight," Fjolvar told me. I've been thinking about it off and on ever since. It reminded me that every man fights in his own way, and made me think of similar words I'd spoken to another recently, to encourage him, and I meant them, but I failed to take them to heart myself. Ignorance or arrogance, I don't know.

His thoughts turned back to Loki again, as they always did in this journal, which he'd started writing in for the express purpose of collecting his thoughts on his brother. You always had your own way of fighting, and I know I sometimes made jests at your expense over it. I twisted knives in you with my words or my actions sometimes. And you twisted them right back. We played and we grew up and we fought and…is this not what brothers do? I think sometimes I didn't know I was wielding a knife. And sometimes perhaps I ignored how much the knife truly hurt. I teased, and I'm too tired to think through the reasons now, if there was more to it than simple teasing between brothers. But I valued you. Your opinions. Your skills. He stopped and shook his head, wondering how true that really was. I didn't always show it. And I admit, sometimes I didn't value you as I should. Sometimes I ignored you. Sometimes I belittled you. But I didn't think I was truly hurting you in that. I didn't think it would make you hate me. Is that what made you hate me?

Thor glanced at the time. The allotted time was past. I wish I could go back and change it somehow. But perhaps we are where we are meant to be. Healing is painful. Perhaps what we've endured is necessary for healing, and if that is the case, then what has happened, has happened for a reason, and as I ask our people not to give up hope for Asgard, I will not give up hope for you. I swear it.

/


Minimal and mixed feedback on the date thing, which makes me think most of you don't care too much one way or another on that. This chapter happens to have a date reference in it; it made sense to do it there. But normally that kind of thing would be rather awkward. So another suggestion was to mention it at the end of the chapter in this section, I can try that too, though this time I put it at the top. The date thing is solely for you, the reader, so it really doesn't matter to me how it's included, if at all. I could also make a blog entry and paste in the stuff in my "Dates by Chapter" Word doc...but I doubt too many of you would want to pull up my blog to look back at the dates. Anyway, on to another kind of date!

I'm moving on October 15 (unless more fluky things happen to delay it again!). In my mind that feels approximately like "tomorrow." You may not see me on here as much as normal over the next few weeks. And I will have to get internet hooked up at my house after I arrive. I'm not sure how long that will take or if I'll have other access in the meantime. But rest assured, I will reappear, and my schedule should return to normal at long last.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Drop 'em in the review box below, I appreciate every comment, long or short! I haven't been able to respond to the most recent reviews & PMs yet, but I will.

Previews from Ch. 107: Thor tries again with Nadrith; an idea arises about what's up with Yggdrasil; it's the weekend and you know what that means at the Pole; speaking of the Pole, the Polies learn something unusual has happened there; Loki gets to observe Jane in a new context (if you've been following my profile updates you might guess the context).

And excerpt:

Selby slipped into the last empty seat at the table, across from Jane, which somewhat surprised Loki. More often than not, Selby simply avoided Jane whenever possible. "Good morning," he said, to a loose chorus of responses. "Did you guys read the Saturday Science today yet?"

Loki had only a vague idea of what that was, some sort of electronic letter. He'd never seen it, because he'd never opened his Station e-mail account.

"Yeah. Weird, huh?" Wright said.