LOKI
"Freyja!" I called through the heavy stone door to her room. "Might you be awake by any chance?"
"No. I'm asleep." She answered, tone dripping with sarcasm and a distinct hostility. "Come back later."
I sighed and pushed the door open, sticking my head in. "Yes, very convincing. I just thought you should know, Jari came by and said..."
Something rather hard hit me flat in the face, cutting off my sentence. Pain shot through the bridge of my nose and my eyes began to water as I quickly pulled my head back through the door, out of the danger zone.
"What is your problem?" I yelled, massaging my nose. "Jari said dinner is almost over, if you want food."
I glanced down at the projectile Freyja so politely lobbed at my head, and my jaw practically came unhinged. "Where did you get this?"
Careful not to open the door any more than a crack, I knelt down and gingerly picked the beautiful, hard cover book.
"Some library that never asked for it back." She answered stiffly as she pulled the door open wider, her braid slightly disheveled. Standing there, she already looked leagues better than before. The dark circles had shrunk, and there was a glimmer in her gray eyes that wasn't there before. However, she also looked distinctly pissed off.
I peered over her shoulder and failed to keep my face straight. Her entire bedroom looked like a library, with piles of books spanning from wall to wall. The pleasant scent of old paper wafted out the open door, reminding me of long days spent in the library when I was younger.
"Odin's beard..." I breathed. She followed my gaze to the heaps of literature.
Despite her obvious tension, she smiled. "Would you consider yourself a reader?"
"Absolutely."
She threw her hands in the air, an exasperated expression crossing her face. "If I had known that, I would've asked if you want to borrow one days ago!"
All I could do was nod as she opened the door wider, allowing me to step inside. "Take your pick."
"There are more books in this room than there are people on Asgard. How an I supposed to pick?"
She strode down a small path through the maze of books, running her slender finger along the spines. Then, with a slight moment of hesitation, she selected one. Then another. Then three, four and five.
With the books in hand, she came back over and dumped them in my arms. "I don't know what your preferences are, but if you have any taste whatsoever, you'll enjoy these ones."
A bubble of excitement formed in my stomach. "Well, I know what I'm doing this evening."
She chuckled. "Sure you do. Give me one minute, then I'll take you to the cafeteria."
Rather unceremoniously, Freyja booted me out the door, but I hardly minded. By the time I walked to my room, set my beloved new books on the bed and returned, she was done.
"Took you long enough." She muttered as she tied the end of her braid off with a ribbon, despite the fact that she left her room seconds before I did. Her jacket was draped over her arm, and she threw it on as she walked past me.
I shook my head, but followed after her. She's a handful.
Dinner passed by quickly. The entire cafeteria had been mostly emptied, everyone having already eaten. We sat at an empty table, and I shoved my food down my throat with great haste.
She studied me with amusement, fingers drumming on the table. "You realize you have teeth for a reason, right?"
"You realize you have a digestive system for a reason, right?" I shot back, disregarding my table manners as I spoke around a mouthful of steamed carrot. "Honestly, do you eat anything?"
"Yes. The hearts of my enemies." She replied coldly. "Carved from their chests with a steak knife."
I didn't say anything, instead returning quietly to my meal.
"So, I've been meaning to ask you this," Freyja broke the silence, leaning forward slightly. "But how much do you know about Odin? Strengths? Weaknesses? Things of that sort."
"A fair amount." I answered as I finished off my meal. "His strengths would be his army, Frigga, Thor and the support of the people."
She cocked an eyebrow. "And weaknesses?"
"What needs to be said? He's a senile old man who desperately wants to hold on to his power." I explained, somewhat impatiently. "Alone, he is helpless."
"And by some miracle he's managed to stay on the throne for thousands of years." She retorted, sitting up straight, elbows on the table.
Silence cast a heavy shadow over the two of us. I let my eyes trace the grain of the wooden table, thinking about what is to come. Midgard, then Jotenheim, then Odin.
It hadn't hit me yet, the fact that I had to kill my father.
No. I corrected myself. That man is not my father. He never was, he never will be.
"Do you still need to escort me around?" I asked absently. "Or can I go back to my room on my own?"
She scoffed. "In your dreams, Butter Knives. If you want to go back, I'll take you."
"If you insist, then yes." I rose gracefully to my feet. "I want to go back."
A few minutes and a short walk later, I was in my room, curled up by a small fire with a book in my lap. There was already a small charred spot on the floor from my previous fire, but I didn't think anyone would mind.
I ran my finger over the smooth leather cover, the texture and old smell bringing me comfort. Heat bathed my body from the dancing flames, and I gently poked the fire with a metal rod before opening my book and beginning to read.
Hours flew past me, and though sleep threatened to drag my eyelids closed, I stayed awake. I was dragged to a new world, lost in a story about a man and his child, who were both called to war but on opposite sides of the battlefield.
Ironic. I thought with a light chuckle, being currently in a war myself.
By the time the fire had died to embers, I had devoured the novel in my lap.
And it had the audacity. To end. On a cliffhanger.
I sat there in partial darkness, trying to absorb the fact that the child in the book just stabbed his father, but got captured by the enemy. Damn this author. They can't end it like this!
Then an idea surfaced in my mind. It was unlikely Freyja would still be awake, and I had a pile of other books I could read. I just really, really wanted to know what happened next. It's just a reader's problem, I suppose.
Then there was also the lure of getting to cause just a bit of mischief by waking my beloved captor up in the middle of the night.
I strode quickly, quietly down the hallway, taking extra care to not let my booted footsteps make an abundance of noise.
"A bit late to be out and about, wouldn't you agree?" A voice whispered from behind me. I whirled around to gaze into two milky white eyes gazing back at me.
I shrugged, barely suppressing a flinch. "I'd argue that there is no better time to be up. And what might you be doing, Eira?"
"I'm making sure a certain god of mischief isn't about to go on a killing spree while everyone is asleep."
"Tempting idea," I replied, amused. "However, I have a slightly more pressing matter to attend to than mindless slaughter." I held up my book in front of her face.
She reached a wrinkled hand out and her finger caught the edge of the book, tracing the edges of the pages. "It's about time Freyja has someone to share all her thoughts about various books with. That means I don't have to listen to her ramble."
"Educated discussion about literature is hardly what I would call 'rambling.' Now if you'll excuse me..." I turned again and began walking off, leaving the elderly woman in the darkened hallway.
Such a strange woman.
I hesitated once I reached Freyja's door. Caught between knocking and barging in, I was surprised when she opened the door.
"Really," She said with a slight smirk. "You need to stop coming to my door and just standing there."
"You're awake." I felt rather witless saying it, but it was the first thing that appeared on my tongue.
She looked down at herself, feigning shock. "Really? I didn't notice!"
"I was just wondering if you happen to have the sequel to this one." I pushed the book into her hands, unable to keep the scowl off my face.
A slow smile crept across her normally stoic features. "I have it. It just might take a while to find." She waved a hand behind her at the hectic mountain of books.
I sighed, hanging my head. "Shall I speed this up a bit?"
"How in Valhalla are you going to pull that off?" She asked, stepping aside with her hands clasped behind her back as I strode inside.
Without a word in response, I turned my palm upwards and with a lifting motion, the nearest stack of books flew into the air, arranging themselves in a neat grid, levitating in front of a blank wall. "Do any of these look familiar?"
"I see eighteen books I would recommend in a heartbeat, but none are the one you're looking for." She informed me, sitting cross legged on her bed.
This might take a while anyways. I realized, dropping the current books in a neat stack and making another levitate.
And take a while, it did. Twenty three book piles later, I had my prize in my hand. "Before I leave, is there a third one I should know about?"
"No, that's it." She said, looking at the partially organized books we just went through. "I have got to learn how to do that."
I tilted my head quizzically. "Out of curiosity, how did you learn magic?"
"The mind thing?" She glanced up at me, her eyes two black holes created by the flickering torches. "I just sort of figured it out."
"You 'just sort of figured out' one of the most complex forms of magic?" I questioned skeptically. "And I'm a purple toad. Come on, how did you actually learn?"
"I am telling you the truth." She replied bitterly. "Take it or leave it."
An aggravated huff escaped me as she sat down on her bed, cross legged with a book in her lap. Shaking my head as I went, I sat down on the floor just beside her, my back against her bed as I cracked open my new book.
But as much as I tried to focus on the words scrawled across the pages, my mind kept wandering back to something she said. I have got to learn how to do that.
Maybe it was some of Odin's old lessons he taught me as a child resurfacing, but that simple statement caught my attention.
The entire time I have been here, she has done nothing but fight to get me my way and make The Mountain Hold feel like a home. As much as I hated to admit it, I was in her debt.
Well, I decided, snapping my book closed. I think it's high time I return the favor.
"Do you really want to learn the levitation spell?"
She finished her page before scowling down at me. "Pardon?"
"I said do you..."
A wave of her hand silenced me. "I heard what you said." She snapped. "I'm just confused as to why you're asking."
Slowly, a smile crept across my face. But not my usual malicious grin or sly smirk. It had gratitude written clearly all over it
"Consider it my way of thanking you for sticking your neck out for me." I stood up and looked down on her as she kept her face carefully emotionless.
But then the mask cracked. A smirk tugged on the corner of her lips, and it slowly unfolded into a smile that lit up her eyes and made her look... normal. Not like the scrappy rebel living in a mountain I had come to know.
"Okay," she said. "Offer accepted."
"Excellent. How much do you know about magic?" I began.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
I sat down on the edge of her bed, and she scooted away from me a bit to give me space. "Alright then, to start you need to know how magic works. Magic stems from the ability to use your mind to influence the world around you. Usually using your imagination."
Her eyes widened slightly. "I have to imagine tearing someone's head open to read their mind."
"Yes, exactly." I confirmed, a slight flutter of elation going off in my stomach. I had never given magic lessons to anyone before, so I just tried to remember as much as I could from Mother and her teachings.
I gave the best explanation I could. "The same concept applies to using magic in other ways. Take levitation, for instance. If you can hold the mental picture of something floating for long enough, it will do so.
"For instance," I continued, placing my book down in front of me. "I envision this book floating..."
Focusing my mind, I pulled the mental image of the book rising in a slow, controlled path through the air and into my hand.
I felt power flow out of me like a river, and felt leather against my fingertips as I curled my hand around the book. "...and the book floats."
"That's it?" She questioned dubiously. "There has to be more to it than that."
I shook my head. "There isn't, it's just that simple. Try it."
With a sigh, she closed her eyes a d furrowed her eyebrows, a look of immense concentration scrawled on her face. A few minutes passed, filled only by the sound of the dancing torches on the walls.
"It isn't working." She growled after a while. "This feels dumb."
I tilted my head, straining to remember the things Frigga had taught me. "Are there empty spots in the mental image?"
"Something like that." She admitted. "It's like there are gray blobs obscuring part of the picture."
"That would be why it isn't working then." I explained. "You need to be able to focus completely and clear away the empty space."
"How?"
I massaged the bridge of my nose, suddenly exhausted. "You have to commit all of your concentration and energy to it."
She glared daggers at me. "My question stands. How?"
"Try this," I tapped a finger on the cover of the book. "Envision it flying up and hitting me in the face."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, make it hit me in the face." I said, struggling to keep my voice quiet. Freyja had the incredible ability to get on every nerve in my body. "Maybe that will motivate you."
She picked the book up with her hand and hit me on the head with it. "There. How was that?"
"With. Magic." I hissed, flipping my hair out of my face and already regretting my decision to try and teach her.
She chuckled lightly at my frustration. Closing her eyes again with a slightly more relaxed expression, she tried again.
My gaze darted between her and the book sitting between us. One minute passed, then two and nothing happened.
To my surprise, after a short time, the book shifted slightly. Not much, just the slightest move towards me. Then, before I could even prepare myself, it zipped through the air quicker than a blink and hit me square in the face.
"IT WORKED!" Freyja cried in delight as it fell back down. My eyes watered uncontrollably and I blinked them dry as I rubbed my nose. To my surprise, there was a steady trickle of blood spilling from my nostril.
I cupped a hand over my face to keep the red liquid from dripping. "That it did. It also gave me a bloody nose."
My blood seeped hot through my fingers, running down my wrist. I rolled my sleeve up with my free hand as Freyja leapt to her feet.
"Surely I have a rag or something somewhere..." She murmured to herself, dashing over to a chest of drawers and rummaging through them.
It only took her a moment before she came over with a clean cloth clenched in her fist. I accepted it gratefully and clamped it over my nose, watching as it turned from white to red.
"Not to be that kind of person," she said with a smirk. "But you completely asked for that."
"I did, but you didn't have to say it out loud!" I protested, my voice slightly nasally from pinching off the blood flow.
She snorted. "Despite the damage done to your face, I made it float. Did I not?"
"I'd say it was less 'floating' and more 'becoming an airborne projectile.' The difference is there." I was taken aback by the slightly hurt look that passed through the depths of her eyes. It was barely noticeable, and didn't show on the rest of her face, but I saw it in the instant it was there. "But regardless, it was still a job well done."
She picked up the book she had launched at my head, a certain softness on her usually stoic face. "I didn't take you for the type to give compliments."
"There is just rarely an instance for me to give one." I replied truthfully. She did deserve the compliment. Few could manage a successful telekinesis spell on their second attempt. "Now try and do that again, without hitting me."
Though she tried for the remainder of the night, Freyja was unable to replicate the sudden burst of magic she had shown prior. Apparently turning books into offensive weapons was the most she could do.
By the time she got frustrated enough to pick up the book and throw it at the wall, I felt sleep creeping up on me.
"You can practice more tomorrow." I yawned. "I would like to get at least an hour of shut eye before you dump cold water on me."
"You're a Frost Giant!" She exclaimed, retrieving the book with evident regret at throwing it in the first place. "Cold shouldn't bother you."
"I wasn't raised a Frost Giant." I reasoned, standing up and taking my book back from her. "Cold still bothers me somewhat. Maybe just wake me up politely."
"I'll keep that in mind." She answered, once again calm and composed. "Good night."
As I walked out the door, I felt a strange flutter in my stomach. Mother would be proud. I realized. I am actually teaching someone magic!
With that thought, I realized I missed Frigga. It had been so, so long since I had spoken to my Mother on good terms.
Loki, I scolded myself. You're getting soft. You don't miss Mother. You aren't happy about teaching Freyja magic. You are here for the throne. That's it.
I forced that message into the very fabric of my being as I tore the door open and stormed inside. I was too tired to change, so I just pulled my shirt off and climbed in bed, letting the sheets slide against the skin of my back.
However, no matter how hard I tried my mind lingered on my mother. As sleep claimed me and I slipped into a hazy dream world, I could've sworn I heard her calling my name.