Beneath
Chapter One Hundred Eighteen – Tourists
Loki waited for the elevator. Two dark-haired boys of perhaps fifteen years burst through the main doors, one with a basketball under his arm – Loki had once briefly observed this game at the Pole – and he gave an internal groan at the thought that he would be sharing the elevator with them. They gave only a brief glance in his direction, though, as they ran past, then pushed open a door at the back of the lobby. Loki heard feet pounding on stairs.
He was in the middle of a quiet sight of a relief when it hit him. Feet pounding on stairs. Past Einherjar that were always there, standing at attention as though statues rather than men, ignored by their two princes. Laughter. Friendly shoves. Closeness. Happiness. Love. Home. Belonging. It crashed over him and then receded, rushing further and further from him, all lost, disappearing from view.
He blinked and saw the elevator doors closing. He stuck his hands into the small gap and forced them to open again. Of course it was all lost. There was nothing so special about that. Everyone grew up. Thor had supposedly finally done some growing up on Midgard. Loki had done the last of his on an unknown distant realm.
Mortals used their elevators for even short distances. He'd been used to climbing dozens of flights every day and found them rather lazy, but this one provided a certain convenience. He withdrew from his pocket a piece of leather that had broken off from his pants, ready to repurpose it. He didn't know exactly what it should look like, but then he figured Jessica Higgins wouldn't either. He'd seen similar things on the TV screen; it would be good enough.
He didn't expect the punishment, and he lost his balance and fell to the side, banging into the false wood paneling and cracking one of the pieces. He pushed himself back upright, face trembling in fury. Odin had said he could make documents. He narrowed his eyes, remembering then that there had been a caveat. "So long as they aren't designed to cause chaos." A passport to travel and a license to operate a vehicle in Canada were apparently fine. A badge identifying him as SHIELD agent James Smith was apparently not. Dearest Father, you warned me not to appropriate the name of your real son. Does James Smith also offend you? He'd wanted a common name, and had little sense of which names were common and which uncommon in this country or any other on Midgard, so he'd put that question to Google as well, and selected the most common man's chosen name and the most common family name.
James Smith, however, was not supposed to walk with a limp, so when the elevator doors opened, Loki emerged slowly, accustoming himself to the reintensified pain and embracing it so that he did not react against it. The slow pace also gave him a chance to orient himself and determine that 512 was to his left, and by the time that was done he was walking normally again.
He knocked, and waited. She was working up the courage to open the door. Good.
It opened a crack, a dainty-looking chain connecting the door to the doorframe; Loki wondered if that actually stopped Midgardians who wished to force their way into a dwelling. A familiar-looking woman with long curly blond hair filled the crack. Her lips parted slightly but no words were forthcoming, so Loki spoke first. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Higgins. May I come in?"
"Who are you?" she said after further hesitation.
"I'm afraid I can't discuss that from out here. Would you like to see my identification?"
Her eyes lit up; it didn't seem to have occurred to her to ask. "Yes."
Loki handed her the repurposed leather through the cracked door. It now opened to an imprint of SHIELD's bird symbol on one side – he'd seen it enough times on the wall in the room they'd taken him to for questioning and had nothing better to do than stare at it since he wasn't answering any questions or really even listening to them – and a picture of him with "J. Smith" printed underneath it. Nothing about it was perfect, he was sure. It was made in haste from material that resisted his attempts to restructure it. But it was good enough for his current purpose. And he was certain he was no longer capable of the detailed work of the passport that had passed the scrutiny of security in multiple airports, anyway.
"John Smith?" the woman asked with a new look of skepticism.
Too common, perhaps? Loki wondered. "James, actually. It's very important that I speak with you."
"About Selby?"
"About Selby," Loki said, carefully keeping the smile from his face and the eagerness from his eyes as he said the name aloud.
She swallowed and then put on what was clearly a mask of defiance. "He'll be home in about half an hour. You can come back then." She wasn't trying to close the door. It was a test, and a ridiculously simple one at that.
"I think we both know that he won't be home for a lot longer than that. Somewhere around November, I believe." It was Friday, May 21st here, and Saturday, May 22nd in New Zealand, whose time the South Pole followed. Down at the frozen bottom of this planet, someone had forgotten his obligations. Someone was happy and relaxed, proud of his new "dream job" and embarrassed of his pride and too unsure of himself and his relationships with those around him to know whether he should be proud or embarrassed. Someone was planning a honeymoon with this pretty blond, and felt himself unworthy of the woman who'd agreed to marry him before he left her to live on the ice. Someone was supposed to be planning instead for an encounter with a shadowy dangerous warrior and spy organization that was quite displeased with him. Someone needed a reminder.
She frowned and looked back down at his identification. "This isn't the FBI or the Chicago PD."
"No, it isn't," Loki agreed. He actually understood, more or less, what organizations she was referring to; just a few months ago he would have had no idea. Not that it would have mattered. Any collection of letters she strung together, other than SHIELD, would have received the same response. "Could we please have this conversation inside, instead of through a door?"
The woman hesitated again, but then reached up to the doorframe and jiggled the little chain, letting it drop onto the door. An Aesir woman wouldn't have been so fearful – she would know how to defend herself against an ill-meaning stranger – but this woman was living alone in a large city, and her skills included corralling small children at the school where she worked and waving "pom-poms" about while dancing or standing on men's shoulders, exuding "wholesome sex appeal," and spelling the name of her school mascot, so the internet explained when he'd looked up "cheerleader." And of course, Loki was just as skilled at quiet, subtle intimidation as he was at the more blatant forms. "Come in," she said, opening the door wider and stepping out of the way.
He entered and went past her; she wouldn't expect that and his invasion deeper into the area where she felt safe would throw her further off balance. His eyes swept around the room – a living room with a small kitchen at the back of it, a short corridor off to the side with three doorways, the one at the end to a bathroom, the other two probably both small bedrooms. Everything looked a little worn and a little messy, but comfortable. A happy home. On the wall above the sofa was a large framed portrait of the smiling couple on their wedding day.
"Mrs. Higgins…Jessica," he said as he turned to face her, a smile on his face that was patently both warm and false and historically quite successful in getting under others' skin. She was pretty, if a bit ordinary at the moment, in a casual blue thin-strapped dress over a plain white shirt, feet bare. From other images he'd seen of her, he knew she could be quite beautiful when she wanted to. "I'm from an organization known as SHIELD. We don't advertise our existence. Our work is usually accomplished in the shadows. When we are done, everyone knows someone has been there, but our involvement remains hidden. It works best that way, you see. Secrecy ensures that we're able to continue our work. We take that secrecy seriously. Very seriously," he said, taking a measured step toward her. His posture was entirely non-threatening, but her own mind would be filling in all sorts of blanks.
"What work?" she asked, taking a small step back, toward the door. He doubted she was even conscious of it. "And…why are you here? If you're all so into secrecy, why are you here telling me about it? And what does this have to do with Selby? You said you were here to talk to me about him. Is he okay? Did something happen?"
"So many questions, Jessica. Yet there's one you didn't ask, isn't there? And that tells me that you've already heard of SHIELD."
"I…no, I don't-"
"Let's not waste time with feeble attempts to deceive, hm? Part of SHIELD's work is simply to know things. To know everything. Now, would you like to tell me exactly how much Dr. Higgins has told you about SHIELD?"
He could see the decision playing out over her face; she was remarkably transparent. Jane used to be like that, he thought, then gave a long blink and focused hard on Jessica Higgins. Her shoulders fell a bit, and that was the end of her defiance, though certainly not of her worry and fear. "Not much. He never knew much. Just what his…what he heard…"
"I don't need the name. I already know it. Go on." He didn't, but he also didn't have the slightest interest in it, and didn't want to waste time on her trying to avoid implicating whoever had spilled some of SHIELD's precious secrets to Selby. "What did he tell you about SHIELD?"
"Not much, not about SHIELD. Just that that's where his friend was working on some secret physics project. When Selby told me about it I didn't even understand half of it. Something about a cube."
"Yes," Loki said with a crisp nod, intended to show her he already knew all this, and problems would only come if she lied. "What else?"
"What really happened in New Mexico. That Thor the thunder god from Norse mythology was real, and he really carried around a hammer, only it was stuck in the ground and creating some kind of…disturbance in the sky. That the initial reports from New Mexico were right, that some robot thing destroyed half the town and Thor got his hammer back and stopped it and went back to his home planet through a wormhole."
"Mmmm," Loki murmured. Wouldn't Odin be happy to hear his genius creation referred to as a "robot thing." "That's not all. Continue."
She shook her head, growing frustrated. "That's all I remember. That's all I know. I mean…and then New York happened, and Germany before that…and we figured it was all related, I mean, Selby and me. We knew that was Thor on TV, the guy with the red cape, because we saw the hammer. Selby said it had to be that cube that opened up that…hole in space that let the aliens in. But I mean…the name "Thor" got out in the news, a lots of people were speculating about SHIELD, we heard that name in the news then too. It's not as secret as you think it is anymore."
"No, you're right, it isn't. Because of people like your husband. We'll deal with his friend. And we'll deal with Dr. Higgins as well. Do we need to deal with you?"
"Wh- What do you mean?" she asked, glancing nervously down at the leather-covered identification document she still held in her hand.
"How many people have you discussed this with, Jessica?" he asked with another of those serene yet intimidating smiles.
"None! Nobody. He swore me to secrecy."
"Like we swore his friend to secrecy, literally."
"His friend was drunk and made a mistake. That's all. I never told anyone else, and Selby never told anybody but me."
"Mmmm. Not true, actually. But not surprising that you wouldn't know. That he wouldn't have told you. There's a woman at the South Pole he's confided in," he said casually, then broke eye contact with her for the first time.
"I…"
Loki's gaze drifted around the apartment a moment longer, letting that thought linger and develop. There'd been no question; there was nothing for her to actually say. "Listen carefully to me, Jessica," he said sternly then, stepping forward again, not quite into her space, not enough to reasonably seem menacing, but he doubted she was feeling all that reasonable at the moment, and sure enough, she took another step back and was startled to bump into the door. "I believe you. The truth is, if you'd told anyone else, we would have known about it. As I said, that's our job. I personally contacted your husband and informed him that we would need to speak with him in person, extensively, when he left the South Pole. He seems to have forgotten about that. I came here to speak with you in person, in lieu of him. Perhaps you could convey in your next little chat with him that this conversation is not optional, and that his other plans will have to remain on hold, as when we have real conversations, they are thorough and tend to last a while. Do you understand?"
She was nodding even before he got the full question out, left hand sliding around on the door behind her until it rested on the handle.
It was time to back off. And so he did, literally. "Good," he said, his tone now more friendly again. "I trust you also understand not to speak a word of this to anyone else."
She nodded again, and he stepped closer but to the side. It took her a second, but she understood then that he meant to leave and quickly pulled open the door and stepped back again, continuing this little dance they'd virtually perfected now.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Higgins," he said with a dip of his head, a slight lift of his right foot, and a small trembling twist of his hand at his side.
She gave a loud startled cry and a jolt when the document in her right hand crumbled to dust and slipped from her fingers. Loki welcomed the pain and kept himself upright and walking out the door through sheer determination and a heady rush of adrenaline. He heard the door finally close just as he reached the elevator; his leg gave out then and he leaned heavily against the panel between the two elevator cabins. His face broke into a feral grin as he pressed the button to call the elevator.
His foot hurt terribly and he could swear the pain was reverberating throughout his body. He drank it all in like the finest, strongest mead and let it propel him forward, transforming his face into a more polite smile at the woman and young child who stepped out of the elevator when it came.
He leaned against the back wall of the elevator as he rode it down, still recovering from the exertion and the punishment. That couldn't have gone any better. And by Yggdrasil it felt good! He refused to let it feel anything else.
/
/
Thor stood anxiously at the foot of the obsidian steps leading up to the porticoed entrance to the throne room. He had fought through what little remained of the night, after word came that there would be a delay, and remarkably, relative calm had settled over Asgard. The other realms had begun to pull their warriors back at daybreak, and while a few small-scale battles continued and a few fires still burned – Thor had put them out on his way back to the palace – most of Asgard was catching its collective breath. Hundreds of warriors gave up the chance to rest and recover and instead went to the three towers the builders were currently trying to shore up. Hundreds more flocked to the Healing Room seeking treatment they'd foregone in the height of battle. Most of the rest had to regroup and remain on guard. Some simply dropped to the ground where they stood in exhaustion.
All knew the lull would not last.
"They're ready," Heimdall said, breaking the silence.
Thor hesitated. "Perhaps I should go. There has been no better timing."
"You cannot," Bragi said. "Not in time of war. And the portals may open again at any moment."
Thor grit his teeth. He was king and he'd always thought that meant no one could tell him what to do. A childish reaction, of course, he knew. There were a good many things about being king that he'd learned he was wrong about.
"Your Majesty?"
He took a deep breath, then nodded. "Gently, Heimdall. Eir?"
"Ready, Your Majesty," she said, only a hint of tiredness in her eyes. She'd changed into a fresh apron while she stood waiting with them and repinned her hair as well – only a dark bloodstain on her beige right sleeve betrayed that anything at all was amiss.
Blue energy swirled, and the forms of two men appeared next to Heimdall and the little table with the Tesseract, in front of the rest of the waiting group that stood with their backs to the palace. Everyone was silent for a moment, fearful of the condition of the more fragile of the two arrivals, though both appeared hale.
"Welcome to As-" Heimdall began, but was interrupted.
"I think somebody better take this," Tony said, swinging his arm out to the side. Heimdall smoothly took the tall black mug from his hand and Tony promptly fell, Eir catching him halfway down and gently easing him to the ground on his knees.
Thor turned to Heimdall and took the mug himself. "Go," he said, and Heimdall nodded, sealed the Tesseract in its case, and hurried off accompanied by four Einherjar to secret the Tesseract away. If Tony had been harmed in the journey, a return trip via the Tesseract's power would not help matters, and the volatile cube was too vulnerable out in the open like this.
Geirmund was now down on one knee behind Tony, bracing him up while Eir held her hands over first his chest, then his head, then pulled a cloth from her pocket and dabbed away a small drop of blood that appeared at his nose. Tony appeared to have passed out, but came to with a gasp when Eir cupped his cheeks and lifted his head. "The journey was harsh on his body, and I would recommend a healer with strong magic accompany him when he returns, but the damage was minor and reversible. He will be fine, Your Majesty," she said, looking up at Thor at the end.
"You a doc?" Tony asked, still sounding a little woozy.
Eir smiled and turned back to him. "Can you stand yet?" she asked.
"I don't know if that's such a good i- Well, yes, I guess so," he amended as Geirmund lifted him to his feet, keeping an arm around his in case he needed steadying. "Uh, hi, Thor, how's it going?"
"It's going…that's what I wished to talk with you about, my friend. But first, allow me to welcome you to my home, Asgard."
"Thanks, buddy," Tony said, glancing at the others surrounding him, then back to Thor. "I, uh, I see you got the coffee."
"Coffee? Oh," Thor said in surprise, taking real note of the mug for the first time. He brought it up to his face and inhaled, and the familiar scent of coffee indeed greeted him. His face broke into a grin. "Thank you, Tony! It's good to have you…" He held the mug a little further from his face and tilted it a bit for a better look. "This has my picture on it."
"Yeah, I thought you'd like that."
Thor looked at it a moment longer, then lifted his eyebrows and brought the mug to his lips, just above where little white lightning bolts extended out of Mjolnir, held aloft over his head. "Delicious. I wish for all Asgardians to have the chance to try it. It's a good drink for a warrior." He took another drink. "Do you feel well now, Tony?"
"Yeah, pretty well, yeah, I think so."
"Good. Then let me introduce you. You've already met Jolgeir, my Chief Pal- Currently my general advisor on a great many matters. And Geirmund, my Supplies Advisor, and Krusa, my Trade Advisor. And this is Bragi, Diplomatic Advisor, and Eir, First Healer of Asgard. Fellow Aesir, this is my good friend and fellow warrior from Midgard, as well as Asgard's benefactor, Tony Stark."
"We are most pleased to make your acquaintance, and to welcome you here to the Realm Eternal," Bragi said, stepping forward to place a hand on Tony's shoulder.
"Yeah, back at you," Tony said with an unsettled glance toward Thor, reaching out and patting Bragi's shoulder in return.
"It is my pleasure as well," Eir said. "Thank you for what you are doing for Asgard. We will not forget you for it. And now," she said, turning back to Thor, "if it please Your Majesty…"
"Yes, see to your duties, Eir. Thank you for coming."
"Of course," she said, dropping to one knee and saluting, before rising, nodding politely at Tony, and rushing back to the Healing Room.
"There is much I wish to say to you, Tony, but it would be best if we went directly to the throne room. Are you ready? We must climb a number of steps."
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Point…Break…"
Thor followed Tony's eyes upward to the palace he must have noticed for the first time, now that those who'd stood in front of and above him had either left or were taking up new positions behind him. He supposed it must look striking, given how Tony stared, then began looking at the other buildings in the city's skyline. For him it was simply home. "Tony…we really should be-"
"Right. The throne room it is. Let's get going. I'm guessing the guys in the big helmets up there are going to lead the way?"
Thor glanced to the nine Einherjar standing five steps up. "In a sense, yes."
Tony took a deep breath and started for the stairs; Thor fell in at his side and the others formed a loose circle around them. "So…you grew up here? In this palace?"
"Yes. I have lived here all my life."
"And this whole…'Your Majesty' thing," Tony said, waving a hand about with the last, "and the kneeling…? You really are king now, huh?"
"My father is in the Sleep. He ruled and led our warriors as though he were half his age, but it came at a price. He will wake again…but no one can say when. Because we are at war, I was officially made king of Asgard."
"The 'Realm Eternal.'"
"One of the names Asgard is known by, yes."
"It's got other names? I like other names. Do tell."
"The Shining Realm, Yggdrasil's Crown, the Jewel of Yggdrasil, the-"
"Uh-huh. Got it. Hey, when I was a kid I had a nanny who took care of me because my old man was always working, and he had a butler, a maid, a driver, and a grounds keeper. How about you?"
Thor wrinkled his brow as they continued climbing. Tony sometimes said the oddest things and at the oddest times, but there was no need to get serious until they reached the throne room, so he decided to indulge his friend in his strange inquiries. "I think we had four or five nursemaids, Loki and I, at any given time, when we were children. And as for other servants…I suppose you would have to ask my mother's head servant. Several hundred, at least."
"I see. Yeah, no idea where you and your brother got your superiority complexes."
Thor gave Tony a quick look. He had learned to better control his speech in these last few months, and so held his tongue. If anyone had a "superiority complex," as Tony put it, Thor remembered it being Tony himself, starting with their first meeting in that forest after Tony tried to stop him from capturing Loki. Of course, Thor had been set on a goal and unwilling to take the time to explain things to the man so strangely encased in metal, and he could see how Tony could have formed that impression, and…how he might not have been entirely wrong. He'd already realized that he'd at times treated Loki from a position of superiority, a position neither earned nor deserved. And Loki, too, yes – Tony had included Loki in his comment about superiority – Loki had certainly thought himself superior to the mortals, and was known for a certain arrogance that Thor never used to think he shared. Thor had never particularly begrudged him that attitude, and had often even found it amusing. It made them seem the same now, to Thor. But they were very different. Even in childhood their personalities were different. Loki's arrogance was not the same as his own, this he somehow knew, yet he wasn't sure where the difference lay. Tony, predictably, did not let him think about it for long.
"Am I supposed to be…you know, bowing? And…with the 'Your Majesty' and all that jazz?"
"No, it's not necessary. You are not my subject."
Tony gave a laugh that sounded rather relieved. "Thank God for that! Awkward."
Thor's head jerked over and he watched Tony for a moment. He definitely looked relieved. He was grateful not to be under Thor's authority?
Tony met his gaze as they reached the top of the stairs and the tall columns that marked the public entrance to the throne room. He quirked an eyebrow. "Insecure much?" he asked in a low voice.
Whatever expression Thor figured then he might have been wearing to make Tony say such a thing quickly transformed into anger, but it passed just as quickly. Tony was his friend, but he had no idea what it was like to suddenly become king in the middle of a war that Asgard could not even be said to be quite holding its own in anymore. Thor had also improved his ability to control his temper. "These are difficult times, Tony," he said, the two of them paused, along with the group around them.
Tony grew visibly more serious, then gave a loose nod. "Yeah. Understood. Sorry. Let's get to work. I brought a bunch of information on the UN, and I can tell you the basics myself."
"Good," Thor said, clasping Tony's upper arm. "But first…Geirmund?"
"These are for you," Geirmund said from behind them, holding out a leather satchel.
Tony's eyebrow went up again as he took the bag. "And I didn't get you a thing," he said to Geirmund, who pressed his lips together, looked down, and gave a small laugh through his nose, probably trying to stave off a bigger one. The two appeared very comfortable with each other, and it made Thor oddly envious; he hardly saw his friends anymore, and his advisors were getting to know his Midgardian friends, one of them at least, better than him.
"It's clothing," he said. "Geirmund will direct you to a room where you can get changed. We need you to look Aesir."
"Ahhh, so that's why the phalanx. And here I thought it was security for the visiting VIP."
"The city itself remains safe," Thor said, looking out over Asgard from the top of the stairs. "For now," he added. "Come, let's get inside."
/
/
The internet, Loki thought yet again, as he followed local custom and hailed a taxi, was a truly wonderful creation. Countless volumes of information were available at one's fingertips on Asgard as well, as part of an extensive and thorough system of libraries, but they were disjointed, belonging as they did to the individual libraries, and there was no library with any collection that would inform you which tavern had the best cuisine. For that, one had to ask around. Yet from the middle of nowhere on Midgard, he'd typed "finest restaurant in Chicago" into the search engine and soon found himself on his way up to a 40th floor restaurant called "Everest."
There was of course no uniform agreement on what was the finest restaurant, so Loki had sifted through images as well, and discarded those that apparently served three or four sprigs of grass with three or four drops of colorful sauces and a few bread crumbs. If he wanted art he would go to a museum. He was hungry. He wanted to eat. Meat and vegetables that had never been anywhere near a freezer.
It was early when he arrived. The restaurant had only just opened – it was only open for dinner – and most of the tables he could see were still empty. A smartly-dressed worker greeted him and asked for his name; Loki gave him the one he was using today, and the younger man scanned a large thin book he was holding.
"I'm sorry, sir, did you have a reservation?"
"Yes, of course," he said. He'd expected to have to deal with this. A book was easier than a computer. "Let me have a look," he said, deftly taking the book from the man's hands before he could protest. It should have been the simplest thing, really, changing a couple of ink marks, but it was difficult, and the job was not perfect, not quite complete, before he had to stop and focus on staying upright as he was punished for the fourth time that day.
The other man took the book Loki surrendered. "Are you all right, sir? Would you like to have a seat?"
"It's nothing," Loki said, lifting his right food just enough to avoid putting weight on it. "But yes, I would like to have a seat. Right over there, as a matter of fact," he said, gesturing toward the large windows with the grand views over Chicago he'd seen online.
"We're completely booked tonight, but I'd be happy to make a res-"
"Then it's a good thing I already have a reservation," Loki said with an impatient false smile.
"I, uh…oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Smith. I don't know how I missed it before. It's just a little hard to read. Please, allow me to seat you, and of course I'll get you a great view."
Unable to keep the limp entirely from his gait, Loki followed and took his seat, startling when the worker pushed the chair in from behind him. He wasn't sure if the man thought him entirely lame or if it was the custom here.
The view was outstanding, not so unlike that from the palace's upper balconies. Below him scurried people he could see only with great concentration and the mortals could probably not see at all. People ignorant of whose eyes were cast down on them from far above. A different man came out to speak to him about the menu and the wine selections. He would normally have turned down the wine without a thought, but instead without a thought he had three different bottles ordered, paired by the restaurant's wine expert with the courses he'd selected. There was freshly-baked bread, there was lobster, there was steak prepared to his taste, there was a puffy warm chocolate pastry called "soufflé" that Loki thought must be the most incredible thing he'd ever eaten in over one thousand years of life.
He sat back and took in the view, pleasantly full from the best meal he'd had in a year and a half, pleasantly warm from the wine he'd drunk every drop of, heedless of what the man serving him must think. He smiled in satisfaction. At least if Odin bleeds me dry here, it will have been for a very worthy cause, he thought. I wonder if Jane has ever tried soufflé… He looked at the empty chair across from him, and his smile faded. I can't even tell her about it.
He looked away from the window angrily, causing a brief stammer from the waiter who had just approached to take his plate. "Can I offer you an after-dinner drink, sir? Perhaps a port?" the man said, prattling on about recommended pairings.
"Fine," Loki said, interrupting him halfway through his explanations.
"Are you an alcoholic?"
Loki's eyes darted back to the empty chair. As if I would be susceptible to such a mortal weakness.
"It's not about how strong you are."
Shut up, he told Jane-in-his-head.
He downed the port that was poured for him. A little sweet. A little stronger than the wine, though he'd still have to drink a great deal of it to feel anything more than a comfortable warmth. "Another," he said, tapping the glass on the table and sending the waiter hurrying back. His glass was refilled – though "filled" was hardly the appropriate word given how little was actually poured. "The bill, if you please," Loki said sternly.
It came a moment later, and Loki pulled out five crisp hundred-dollar bills from his satchel. The tip was more than generous, but Loki placed no value on this money and wouldn't have even if it hadn't started life as plain white paper sitting in Mohsin's printer in Melfort, Canada. If he happened to need more, he could always make it… Or not, he thought, hesitating as he stood by his table. He probably couldn't make such good copies anymore. He thought about grabbing one of the bills off the table, but he still had quite a few in his satchel and unless he meant to wander around entirely in the past he would not be needing much more Midgardian money.
He left the $500 and the untouched second glass of port and strode out to the elevator, ignoring the workers who thanked him and bade him good night.
/
/
"You have such things on Midgard?" Bragi asked in amazement as he held the thin book-sized device in his hand. Tony had explained that it had everything they could ever need to know about the United Nations as well as about every individual nation on Midgard, at least as of this day. He had also provided a set of cords and wires and plastic boxes and a small blue glowing device much like the one Thor knew he wore in his chest.
"Sure. You don't?"
"It reminds me of something Asgard once used, long ago, but I was under the impression that Midgard had barely learned to create paper."
"Uh, yeah, you might want to update your curriculum on Midgard just a tad."
"Well," Bragi said with raised eyebrows as he nodded, "it was nearly five thousand years ago when I last studied Midgard, and it's been over a thousand years since I was last there…but I was too busy slaying Frost Giants then to pay much attention to the realm itself."
Tony blinked and for once didn't respond immediately with some quip that no one but him would understand. "Five thousand years ago? You, uh…you're aging really well, there, Bragi."
Bragi chuckled. "The years are beginning to catch up with me, I'm afraid."
"And…wait, slaying Frost Giants on Earth? Really. Admittedly I mostly found history a big snooze, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember studying something about any kind of giant-slaying on Earth in the Middle Ages."
"Tales for another time, my friend," Thor said, lest conversation devolve into a retelling of the battle tales he'd heard all his life. "Forgive me for being a poor host for your first visit to Asgard. My time is extremely limited lately, and I have already spent too much of these last two days away from battle."
Tony leaned forward with narrowed eyes; Thor's eyes narrowed in response, uncertain what Tony was doing. He reached out toward Thor's face – Thor saw his advisors tensing – and grasped a bit of the hair of his beard. And pulled. Not particularly hard, but still. Thor stared, bewildered, and did not otherwise react. The Midgardians he'd met were all a bit odd in their own individual ways, but none nearly so much so as Tony Stark.
"So that's really you, huh? Has anyone told you've changed a lot?"
"I…," Thor began, but didn't really know what to say to that. He glanced at Bragi, whose lips quirked into a smile as he gave a slight nod.
"Never mind. Apologies for poor hosting during wartime accepted. What can I tell you?"
Thor nodded, back on firmer ground, beard safely ignored. "As Jolgeir explained, I would like for you to speak in some detail with these advisors about the United Nations and the impact you foresee of Gullveig's press conference to the people of Earth, but for now, before I must go…"
"You want the short version?" Tony asked, then continued at Thor's nod. "Okay. Short version. No real immediate impact. Our arrangement isn't affected. And a lot of people are pretty peeved, but if Gullveig wants to start some recruitment drive or something I don't think a whole lot of…Earthlings…? Midgardians? Yeah, that's better. I don't think a whole lot of Midgardians are going to be signing up to go fight in some other planet's war. This is a PR thing, and-"
"PR thing?" Bragi asked, before Thor could.
"Public Relations. It makes Asgard look bad to the public on Earth. You're going to have to do damage control, and I thought maybe it could wait, but my PR specialist, who signed a strict confidentiality agreement, strongly suggested sooner rather than later. Don't wait until public opinion is entrenched. I can get you a great PR team who can help you shape your message to counter Gullveig's. Gullveig never said anything about the voodoo your dad put on Loki to make sure he didn't actually hurt anybody. He's telling half-truths to manipulate everyone. And that makes him look bad."
"Someone will need to go to Earth and speak as Gullveig did? A press conference?"
"Yeah."
Thor frowned. One more thing to worry about that Asgard did not have time for. "We don't have an ambassador designated for Midgard. Bragi and all his staff and clerks are overwhelmed."
"Staff?" Bragi said with a raised eyebrow. "I have little staff left. They're out fighting or building or healing. But we'll find a way to do what we must, Your Majesty."
"I leave it in your hands, then," Thor said with a quick nod. "I cannot do this press conference myself, Tony. I cannot leave Asgard during time of war. Bragi, I trust you and the other advisors can identify someone else who can do it in lieu of an ambassador."
Bragi nodded his assent.
"You can meet with Tony in my father's study. But first, I'd like a moment alone with him."
The others bowed and saluted – Jolgeir merely bowed – and left.
"How's it going, pal? Really?" Tony asked once the others disappeared off to the side behind the great interior columns.
Thor lifted his chin, twice started to say something, and twice did not.
"That good, huh?"
"We are vastly outnumbered. Our efforts slow their progress, weaken their resolve – we hope – but…" He paused, swallowed hard, took a deep breath. "We will prevail."
"You sure you don't want our help? You stood with us. We'd be glad to stand with you."
"Your offer is well met, Tony, truly. But there are so few of you, of those of you who could stand against the warriors of the other realms…and if the other realms learned of your involvement you would be inviting attack upon Midgard. We…could be of little assistance to your realm in that scenario, I'm afraid."
"Okay, I get that, but…your soldiers are carrying around swords. I mean…swords. On Earth, you know we've developed weapons that can literally blow swords and the people that carry them into dust. It's not a business I deal in anymore, but I still have contacts."
Thor shook his head sadly but resolutely. He knew the weapons Tony spoke of. The weapon that had obliterated the attacking Chitauri. He'd asked about it afterward and learned what that weapon did. "I do not judge the weapons and ways of your realm, but your world's weapons are not for my people. This kind of victory…for us…it would be worse than loss."
"Okay, I understand. Mostly. But if you change your mind…"
"I won't. But I thank you, Tony. What I wanted to speak with you about…is Loki."
"Mm-hm," Tony said, rubbing his hands over the leather pants he now wore.
"Despite what Gullveig said, I don't believe that Loki is on Midgard."
"Mm-hm," Tony said again.
"The others don't know you were searching for him on my behalf – only my parents and my old friend Hogun."
"Right. Hey, Paul Bunyon, you got a phone here by any chance? One that reaches Earth?"
/
In Ch. 90 "Thaw" the Polies celebrate Selby getting the Berkeley job and Loki gets annoyed because Selby's not supposed to be celebrating; in Ch. 92 "Grails" Selby is already experiencing a fresh wave of anger toward Jane (now you know what happened in between); in Ch. 102 "Betrayal"/103 "Choices" Selby snaps a bit and, for a short moment at least, behaves inappropriately toward Jane. And waaay back in Ch. 13 "Theories" Loki first needles Selby about his wife.
Have been meaning to post here, there's some more great fanart done by Ameban (for Ch. 79 "Damage"), in comic format which is cool to see, you can find it on her Deviantart page, or in the favorites on mine (ninepen) and from there get to Ameban's too. BTW...she does commissions! I always write these notes late at night when my brain barely functions and I forget things - if you've done any fanart that I *haven't* mentioned in one of these notes, please remind me, or please let me know if you've done any fanart and for some reason not told me about it. All the ones I know about are on my DA favorites.
Guest Ch. 1(prologue) Feb 16: No sequel. Never in a million years. Sorry. Ha. Not from me anyway... Other stories in this fandom and hopefully a finished novel I can try to get published. "Melluky" - hopefully it makes a little more sense now, but yes, this is a form of Loki snapping. "humperdink" - enjoy the tea and biscuits, and stay away from Buttercup! And to several guests and everyone - yeah, Loki's getting some fairly petty revenge on Selby, but "Selby" is more than just "Selby." Selby is a convenient and familiar target. "Fergie," welcome! "Little Red Dot" - he asked in Tonsberg, where's Midgard's ruler, and someone mentioned, "uh, the United Nations in New York City?" Re terminology, meant to say after that chapter, I hope Heimdall didn't come off as dumb in the words he used to report this. He's certainly not dumb! But he's Asgard's gatekeeper, not a social scientist who follows Midgardian politics and terminology and so forth. So he (and the others) just puts stuff in terms and concepts they are more familiar with on Asgard. Same for UN, they really just don't get the concept. The UN doesn't rule the planet and has no army of its own, thus it's kind of inconsequential to them. No worries seeing broadcasts at the Pole - they get no TV and no streaming video there. Their only means of seeing images of Loki would be online stills, and Tony's taking care of that. Thank you for every review, favorite, follow!
Previews for Ch. 119: Thor and Tony continue their chat...; Loki continues his emotional roller-coaster born of desperation and it's only going to get more roller-coaster-y; Tom Cruise guest-stars. Sort of.
Teaser:
Austin, Carlo, and Wright were there when he arrived, their chairs pulled out from their desks facing each other, talking. About him, most likely, though they'd fallen silent when he entered. It was an unpleasant feeling, and one he did not wish to dwell on.
"Morning, Lucas," Austin said.
Loki forced a smile. He could pretend for a short while. "Good morning. Did Jane go out to the DSL?"
The other men exchanged glances and Loki narrowed his eyes, instantly aware that something was amiss. "You haven't heard?" Wright asked.
