A/N: This is a real source, y'all. From the Prose Edda, by Snorri Sturlson, circa 13th century Iceland. Available freely on the internet as part of many historical/university collections. All others are made up by me unless I tell ya otherwise.
XXI
Excerpt from Skáldskaparmal of the Prose Edda by Snorri Sturlson
For what reason is gold called Otter's Wergild? It is related that when certain of the Æsir, Odin and Loki and Hœnir, went forth to explore the earth, they came to a certain river, and proceeded along the river to a waterfall. And beside the fall was an otter, which had taken a salmon from the fall and was eating, blinking his eyes the while. Then Loki took up a stone and cast it at the otter, and struck its head. And Loki boasted in his catch, that he had got otter and salmon with one blow. Then they took up the salmon and the otter and bore them along with them, and coming to the buildings of a certain farm, they went in.
Now the husbandman who dwelt there was named Hreidmarr: he was a man of much substance, and very skilled in black magic. The Æsir asked him for a night's lodging, saying that they had sufficient food with them, and showed him their catch. But when Hreidmarr saw the otter, straight way he called to him his sons, Fáfnir and Reginn, and told them that the otter their brother was slain, and who had done that deed.
Now father and sons went up to the Æsir, seized them, bound them, and told them about the otter, how he was Hreidmarr's son. The Æsir offered a ransom for their lives, as much wealth as Hreidmarr himself desired to appoint; and a covenant was made between them on those terms, and confirmed with oaths. Then the otter was flayed, and Hreidmarr, taking the otter-skin, bade them fill the skin with red gold and also cover it altogether; and that should be the condition of the covenant between them.
Thereupon Odin sent Loki into the Land of the Black Elves, and he came to the dwarf who is called Andvari, who was as a fish in the water. Loki caught him in his hands and required of him in ransom of his life all the gold that he had in his rock; and when they came within the rock, the dwarf brought forth all the gold he had, and it was very much wealth. Then the dwarf quickly swept under his hand one little gold ring, but Loki saw it and commanded him to give over the ring. The dwarf prayed him not to take the ring from him, saying that from this ring he could multiply wealth for himself if he might keep it. Loki answered that be should not have one penny left, and took the ring from him and went out; but the dwarf declared that that ring should be the ruin of every one who should come into possession of it. Loki replied that this seemed well enough to him, and that this condition should hold good provided that he himself brought it to the ears of them that should receive the ring and the curse.
He went his way and came to Hreidmarr's dwelling, and showed the gold to Odin; but when Odin saw the ring, it seemed fair to him, and he took it away from the treasure, and paid the gold to Hreidmarr. Then Hreidmarr filled the otter-skin as much as he could, and set it up when it was full. Next Odin went up, having the skin to cover with gold, and he bade Hreidmarr look whether the skin were yet altogether hidden. But Hreidmarr looked at it searchingly, and saw one of the hairs of the snout, and commanded that this be covered, else their covenant should be at an end. Then Odin drew out the ring, and covered the hair, saying that they were now delivered from their debt for the slaying of the otter. But when Odin had taken his spear, and Loki his shoes, and they had no longer any need to be afraid, then Loki declared that the curse which Andvari had uttered should be fulfilled: that this ring and this gold should be the destruction of him who received it; and that was fulfilled afterward. Now it has been told wherefore gold is called Otter's Wergild, or Forced Payment of the Æsir, or Metal of Strife.
XXII
Lukas resists the urge to fiddle with the minuscule device that had been installed in one of his buttons and hastily replaced on his suit jacket. The technology is astonishingly compact. He really should cease being surprised by mortal ingenuity. Underestimating them is not wise, if S.H.I.E.L.D.'s untimely discovery of his association with Raina has taught him anything. His cell phone is not as innocuous as he was led to believe. Coulson's organization is somehow able to trace the threads of his previous communications. To be caught out in such a manner… needlessly sloppy.
Given the treacherousness of his cell, Lukas must remain cautious while bearing this scrying device on his jacket. He has much practice with subterfuge, but the thought of remote observers unsettles him. He prefers to judge the success of his ruse from facial expression and demeanor, and adjust the layers of his deception accordingly.
Nevertheless, Lukas can weave a compelling story. S.H.I.E.L.D. is the audience, he is the protagonist, and he's conveniently cast Raina into the role of villain.
He knocks on the door and allows it to begin.
The echo thrown by the metal reverberates through the tidy alley. 409 Jacqueline Street happens to be in an industrial section of town, surrounded by brick factories and cavernous warehouses. Roberts had called up several images of the area once he pretended to receive a message with the location and time of their meeting. She'd muttered something about gentrification and told him the neighborhood would likely be quiet before the bars closed.
The agent still wouldn't look him in the eye. Lukas brushes off the tiny prick of guilt he feels at that. Thinking of Roberts only reminds him of that presumptuous Midgardian mage – scientist, the scientist. Deigning to hand out his forgiveness, as if Lukas has any need of a mortal's pardon. And if it is truly given out so easily, like a worthless trinket, then why would Lukas want it? He has never understood the inclination.
Forgiving him. The mortal has no inkling whom he so carelessly absolves.
The door cracks open and a bar of light falls across Lukas's features. The man in front of him is cast in shadow, but he grunts what appears to be a wordless question.
"I am here to see Raina," Lukas offers. "We had an appointment."
The door shuts in his face. He fights down a rush of irritation at the petty tactic, and waits to be admitted. Idly, he wonders about Raina's employer. Has he provided the men and these premises, or has Raina arranged all of this? He resolves to glean some insight during their meeting – such information could reveal much about the influence Raina wields and the nature of their relationship.
Raina's subordinate returns. "She's down the hall. Waitin' for you," he says shortly, holding the door to allow Lukas to enter.
"Splendid," Lukas replies, as the man ushers him down the hall, standing a few inches too close for comfort. "My thanks for the personal escort. I certainly would have trouble finding her myself."
The man doesn't appear to detect any sarcasm. Sarcasm – what a wonderful mortal term. He'd practiced such subtle verbal mockery for centuries, elevated it to an art form, in his opinion, yet had never had a proper name for it. Modern humans are apparently enamored of the concept. He'd love to see the reactions of – of some of the Æsir – to their use of sarcasm in casual conversation.
The man eyes him sidelong, then snorts. "I can see why she likes you. You talk all elegant and shit."
"Keen of you to pick up on that. In fact, my résumé lists 'elegant and shit' as one of my special skills." This rather more overt sarcasm garners a glare from the man. At least he isn't completely dim-witted.
Lukas is shown into a parlor that is considerably more comfortable than the blank stone hall it opens off of. Raina reclines in a stiff ebony chair with a pale blue brocade cushion, embroidered with silver thread. There is an identical chair across from her.
She stands at his entrance and slinks forward, her graceful form encased in a high-collared, black silk dress. "Mr. Eld. I'm very pleased you could make it this evening."
Lukas extends his hand and she grasps it firmly. "Likewise." He nearly refers to her with the formal Asgardian greeting of my lady, but cuts himself off, unsure how she would receive the gesture or if she would remark upon his use of it. "Ms. Raina." She has declined to provide a patronymic, so he must leave it at that.
"Have a seat." She waves a hand to the uncommonly luxurious seating – uncommon by Midgardian standards, at least, from what he's seen thus far.
He lowers himself onto the cushion. Raina pours from a decanter of bloodred wine into a crystal glass. "I've been saving this one," she says in a conspiratorial undertone. "Waiting for the right person to share it with. Someone with an appreciation for the patience and care needed to age a fine wine, and the capacity to grasp the subtleties of the flavors."
Lukas accepts the glass with a nod and gives her the response she's looking for. "Each bottle is irreplaceable; as the conditions that gave rise to the bottle are irreproducible. The composition can never be exactly identical, even in the same batch. That knowledge lends something beautiful and bittersweet to the taste, don't you agree?"
Raina's smile unfurls slowly and sincerely. "That is my belief too, and said much more eloquently than I could have."
They both sip from their glasses. The wine has a pleasing, full-bodied taste. He catches an errant drop with his tongue and notices her follow the movement with her eyes. Lukas cannot decide if she allowed herself to be caught watching for his benefit, or if it was truly a slip. It could serve Raina's purposes if she convinces him that she's swayed by allure or admiration, potentially buoying him with false confidence into making a misstep.
Or perhaps he's overthinking this. Nevertheless, it is better to spend too much effort picking and planning each step than to clomp all over this conversation with the delicacy of a heavily armored Æsir war-horse.
"I do not make a habit of spoiling such magnificent wine with a discussion of business matters, but I hope you will allow me this exception. I am most curious to hear of this ancient treasure you mentioned," he prompts.
Raina savors a swallow of wine in her mouth before speaking. "Only natural," she agrees. "I have it with me now, if you'd like to see it."
Lukas tries not to sound too eager. "I would, if you are willing." Raina sets down her wine. He finds another question falling from his lips. "May I ask where you acquired such an object? I would've thought to hear news of a significant discovery or the sale of an important artifact."
"I assure you, it is authentic." Lukas tries to think of another way to frame the question and determine her source. Raina speaks again before he can.
"And we will get to that, and more. But there's something we need to take care of first. Just a formality, you understand." Raina pulls out a flat black velvet case and opens the lid.
The Ring winks deceptively at him in the lamplight. His breath catches in his chest. I am a fool for not expecting her to make use of her advantage. Perhaps – if he hadn't been so preoccupied by the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents discovering his omission –
Raina picks it up, fingers protected from its magic, now sheathed in slim black gloves. "I see that despite my secrecy, you know what this is."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been all aflutter over it," he responds evenly, disguising the sudden tension he feels. Lukas is tempted to short out the tiny camera and its built-in listening device with a burst of magic. But that would be quite the tip-off to his twitchy allies back in their clandestine base. Perhaps he can play this out.
If anyone can lie with the truth, it is he.
"If you wouldn't mind?" Raina stretches out a hand. Lukas does not let himself hesitate before resting his fingers in hers. She slides the band over his knuckles and he can't help but stiffen as the deeply woven magic of the Ring twines itself around his chest like a strangler vine around a great oak.
"I've heard the sensation is rather unpleasant," Raina offers with what is meant to be a sympathetic smile, but is a shade too insincere. She pats his hand gently before releasing him. "This is no reflection on you, Mr. Eld. In fact, you've been refreshingly polite and well-spoken. Many of my associates in this venture are… distressingly crass."
"I can only imagine." Working amidst the seething underbelly of society tends not to highlight one's more virtuous qualities.
Raina leans back in her chair and crosses one shapely leg over the other. "Now, then, Mr. Eld. Are you working with S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
He tilts his head and lets a tiny crease form between his brows as if he's wondering if she is being deliberately obtuse. "Yes. Of course. That is how you discovered me, is it not? And part of the reason you sought to acquire my services. An inside source and all that."
"Let me rephrase. Does Coulson know where you are now?"
"I did not tell him where I was going." That much is quite true. He'd refused to divulge the precise location of the meet on the grounds it was irrelevant. He hadn't liked the idea of S.H.I.E.L.D. trailing him. Better to keep his options open if he had to make use of certain talents.
"Does he suspect you're working with us?"
"No." He does not suspect. He knows. It is all in the intent. The Ring's magic can only interpret that he means to tell the truth. He has to believe it fully, even as he sorts out the tricky justifications in his mind, he cannot let himself dwell on them. Luckily, he has extensive practice with such deceptive wordplay. A lifetime of it.
Raina's eyes narrow. She does not seem satisfied with his response. "Did he send you to investigate me or my organization?"
This particular line of inquiry is trickier. "I am no S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," he deflects. A consultant only. And barely that. Coulson had been clear on his mission before he left – confirm if Raina has the Ring, and see if he can find information on Dr. Flagretti. Lukas already knew she was in possession of the Ring, he had no need to confirm that, no matter what he said to Coulson. Dr. Flagretti, for her part, is not a member of Centipede, and thus his digging into her whereabouts does not constitute investigation of her organization itself, only their actions of late.
"I did not come here for your organization, but to learn of the Ring and other treasures you might be keeping hidden away." Meaning Dr. Flagretti. The delicate scaffolding of rationalization threatens to collapse on him if he thinks on it any further. Lukas refocuses on projecting his intention to be honest in the absolute technical sense.
"Hmm." Raina studies him closely. His mask is perfectly constructed. Unruffled, with the confidence of an honest man, yet with the lingering undertone of anxiety to be expected from anyone under a compulsion that could unearth their deepest secrets and concealed truths.
"Will you tell Coulson of our partnership?"
Will, not have. "Not unless he holds a knife to my throat." Raina's frame relaxes the slightest bit at his candor. Trying to convince her he is willing to die rather than betray her organization when he's known her a scant few days would be a stretch even for as silver a tongue as his.
"Did you tell Coulson anything about me or my organization?"
"I told him of the Ring. I spoke of the legends regarding its origin and power, and I made an educated guess as to the consequences it imposes upon its bearer. I explained the meaning of the runes burned in Agent Morris's chest. I did not speak your name, or of whom you work for."
Coulson already knew it was Raina who contacted him, he only confirmed it. Her identity never passed his lips. And he truly did not know of Centipede, and thus did not speak of it. S.H.I.E.L.D. already had that information as well.
"Does Coulson trust you?" she asks softly.
That, at least, Lukas can respond to without a hint of hesitance. "No."
"Why not?"
"Our dear Agent Coulson hardly trusts even his own employees fully. A consultant, only recently acquired? He would never be so senseless as to trust me." He lets a smirk cross his face. "Yet."
She mirrors his expression for a moment before slipping back into her meticulously cultivated air of composure. "Do you believe you can help us decipher the Ring's mysteries? Its potential?"
"Certainly. I have the utmost confidence my skills would be useful to you." Raina seems gratified by his conviction.
"Of that, I have little doubt," she replies. "One last thing."
She leans forward, suddenly intent. Lukas feels a shiver of foreboding.
"Is Lukas Eld your real name?"
He freezes for a few heartbeats. The camera and the knowledge of a distant audience burn like a brand in his awareness. He spares a moment to wonder whether their tenuous alliance can withstand the strain of any more untruths.
Nothing for it. The Ring claws at his throat, forcing words up. He must speak if only for a chance to shape his answer to be marginally less harmful.
"I think you are not credited enough for your cleverness, my lady." Raina's teeth glint in a smile. "My name is Lukas Eld – in a manner of speaking." The Ring twinges the skin of his chest, the ghost of a consequence. He continues quickly. "But I suspect the intent of your question – no, it is not the name I was given at birth. It is the name I claimed for myself when I first arrived here. I am rather fond of it, so I suppose I have adopted it as one more of my many monikers."
Raina raises a brow, a triumphant quirk to the gesture. "Oh, you have monikers, do you?"
His own returned smile is sharp. "Yes. Several. But I am Lukas Eld now. I have left the others behind."
"Why?" she inquires curiously.
Lukas is intensely glad the question is unspecific. "To escape my past. You strike me as one who would understand the impulse."
Her dark eyes flicker away for a fleeting moment and he knows he has judged her correctly. Before she can pose any more questions, or pry any further into his secrets, a knock sounds at the door. Lukas doesn't breath a sigh of relief, but he does roll his shoulders to relax the tension in his neck and upper back when Raina stands to answer the summons.
She opens the door and speaks quietly, but Lukas has hearing much sharper than any human. "What is it? I'm in the middle of something."
"Our guest has arrived," a man's voice says.
"Ah." Raina pauses. "Bring her to the basement. Prepare the chair."
The doctor. Lukas is convinced. They are about to extract all she knows regarding Captain America's gifts. He does not quite understand what Raina and her organization can glean from a healer, but he knows well the power held in blood. Any number of dark rites could be performed through such a direct conduit. He had not met the Captain before he departed S.H.I.E.L.D. to return to his hotel and prepare for this meeting, but the thought of subjecting an unknowing mortal, even one with his purported strength, to such blood magic fills him with disquiet. He could be twisted, torn apart, warped into a shade serving solely Raina's desires.
When Raina departs to question the doctor, Lukas must tell Coulson and his team his location, and instruct them to arrive with all haste.
Raina shuts the door and saunters over to his chair. She uses one black glove to slide the Ring off his finger, and Lukas lets out a breath as the iron pressure releases his lungs, unwraps from his chest. She holds the Ring in the palm of her hand, resting on the dark fabric.
"If you will excuse me, Mr. Eld. I have other business to attend to at the moment. I'll be back in a few hours. We can finalize our contract when I'm done. Would you like to remain here, or will you return to your hotel?" she asks solicitously.
"I'll remain here. Surely it will be a convenience for us both to settle the matter sooner rather than later. And I do have this excellent wine to finish," Lukas says swiftly. Nothing short of a charging bilgesnipe is getting him away from the Ring now.
"Eager, are we?" Raina lifts the palm with its golden prize.
"Such an artifact does not come round but every century," he returns easily. Though a century means more to you than it does me.
Raina's lips quirk, though Lukas is not privy to the source of her levity. Perhaps it is only that her endeavors are coming together smoothly.
"You're right, of course," she agrees. Her gaze fastens on the Ring, then flicks to Lukas with an inquisitive expression that raises the hair on the back of his neck. "It is a marvelous artifact. So much potential."
Lukas doesn't respond but with a nod of his head. Where is she going with this charade? He needs to contact Coulson. He doesn't think the device Fitz gave him was able to detect the conversation between Raina and her man at the door.
She begins to work the glove off, one finger at a time. "You know, the original purpose of this Ring was not to compel the truth, but to reveal it." Raina bites her lip, and her eyes gleam with something like hunger. "If you know the right way to manipulate its nature..." she trails off and taps a pattern in the runes encircling the band. "You can access that initial power."
She leans in close. "I wonder… what would it reveal about you?"
Lukas jolts upright from his chair, hand rising though he knows not what he means to do. Raina slips the Ring on her own finger in a flash of gold. She stares at him, eyes round and shocked, her lips parted wide.
"Oh," she breathes.
His heart stutters before quickening into a gallop. Not now, he's not ready, she can't tell anyone his true identity, it's not fair, she'll ruin everything –
He's Lukas now, he's Lukas!
Raina steps towards him, hand outstretched to his chest. With a burst of magic, he shorts out the device hidden in the button of his jacket. Coulson and his team will not hear nor see this.
"You - what are you?" Raina whispers. Her fingertips brush the thick fabric of his suit. She prods at him like she thinks he's an illusion.
"There's – there's ice in your heart."
Lukas jerks backward, away from her touch. What does she mean? That he lacks compassion, or that – can she see the blue beneath his pale Æsir covering –
Another knock sounds at the door. "Miz Raina, our guest is ready for you."
Raina doesn't take her eyes off him for a drawn-out moment. Finally, she tears her gaze away, yanking the Ring off her finger in the same motion. She staggers backward, catching herself on the chair across from his.
"This – this isn't over," she gasps out. "I'll be back – and I want to know everything about you. Everything."
She stumbles out the door. The lock clicks. He hears her give orders to her men to guard the hall and prevent him from leaving.
He falls into the chair and rests his head in his hands.