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Chapter 11

“As I cannot alter it, I also do not determine it,” Odin said, turning from Frigga and stepping away from the pedestal, starting in the direction of the stairway.

“You decided her fate years ago,” Frigga said, Odin coming to a halt, his back to his Queen.

“She chose her own fate.”

“Circumstances she did not choose led her to make that choice,” Frigga replied.

“We have had this conversation. I see no point in revisiting it. She betrayed you as well.”

“I am able to forgive much when one’s motivation was not malice but love. In many ways Loki is more like yourself than Thor. The day will come when he will learn the truth. What will happen when he also learns you could have saved her life, she who he placed above others, the mother of his son? Prophecies can be misunderstood, misinterpreted,” Frigga said, Odin turning to face her.

“‘When one of your house yet not of your blood leads her who will give life to the wolf home, darkness and death will she bring with her to prepare the way.’ There has been one death thus far. It is likely there will be more despite my edict,” Odin said.

“But if you truly believe that you cannot alter fate…”

“I do not stand in the way of those who search for a remedy. If fate dictates she live they will succeed in their quest.”

“She is innocent of Stian’s murder. Regardless of what she did in the past, she is Asgardian and having returned to Asgard she is under your protection. She is the mother of your grandson. Can you live with her blood on your hands?” Frigga asked.

“It would be indistinguishable from that which is already there. I have lived these many millennia under the burden of darker deeds,” Odin said in a weary voice as Frigga took both of his hands in hers.

“As your Queen, as a mother, for our son and our grandson, for your own sake, I beg you to reconsider.”

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After Loki had taken his leave and Thor and Vanar had settled in the front room sitting on the floor on either side of the small table playing an Asgardian version of a board game with round stone pieces, Boda excused herself to the second bedroom. Closing the door behind her she seated herself on the stool in front of the easel, applying fresh paint from a few of the jars to the pallet and picking up a brush. Studying what she had accomplished thus far, she moved the brush from the palette to the canvas.

After a few minutes of painting, hearing the muffled voices of Thor and Vanar through the closed door, Boda ceased painting, setting the brush and pallet down and staring at her work in silence, a dark expression falling over her features.

Standing from the stool, Boda balled her hand into a tight fist, every muscle in her body growing so taut she trembled. With a shriek of rage she suddenly thrust her fist through the canvas before hurling it across the room. Breathing heavily, with another angry cry she picked up a jar of paint, throwing it against the far wall where it shattered, paint running down the white plaster.

In the front room, Thor was in the process of moving a game piece as Vanar looked on when Boda’s shrieks reached them, followed by the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. Thor dropped the carved stone in his hand onto the table as he swiftly rose to his feet.

“Stay here,” Thor directed Vanar.

Thor rushed to the door of the bedroom, throwing it open to see Boda standing, her back to him, with the stool raised, preparing to toss it as well.

“Boda?” Thor called, entering the room, striding to her as she turned to face him, throwing the stool in his direction, Thor batting it aside. Boda balled both hands into fists, her eyes burning with anger. As Thor reached her, she brought her fists down on Thor’s torso, Thor grabbing hold of her wrists.

“Let me go!” Boda growled angrily, “He left me as he did before! He left me to be with him! He’s not coming back!”

“He’ll return, I give you my word.”

“He’s lying! It’s just another game! He never cared for me! He’s never cared for anyone! He can't wait for me to die and be rid of me!” Boda cried.

“The eitr has put these thoughts into your head,” Thor said as Boda continued to struggle to free herself from his grasp, "Loki masks his feelings well but you have long held a special place in his heart."

“He actually has one? That would be news to most," Boda laughed cynically

“It is far larger than most realize. That is the reason he so carefully guards it.”

“You were always kind to me when the other children taunted me after my mother went mad. They said I’d driven her crazy,” Boda said as tears streamed from her eyes.

“Loki defended you as well. He was involved in more than a few tussles–”

“Release me…please…” Boda said, her voice and demeanor now calm, Thor letting go of her wrists.

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“You're not like him. You wouldn’t have left me without saying goodbye,” Boda said as she placed her hands on his chest, sliding them up to hook her arms around his neck as she pressed herself to him, moving her lips to his.

Thor, taken by surprise for a moment, placed his hands on Boda’s shoulders, gently moving her back from him.

“It is not to me your heart belongs.”

“Forgive me,” Boda said as if emerging from under a spell, hanging her head in shame.

“There is nothing to forgive. You weren’t yourself.”

Boda looked behind her at the ruined canvas and the paint splattered on the wall, the shards of broken glass littering the floor.

“Mommy?” Vanar said, Thor and Boda both turning to see him standing in the doorway.

“I had a little accident. Everything’s alright. I’m sorry if I frightened you,” Boda told him reassuringly.

“I’m rejoin you soon and we’ll finish our game,” Thor told him.

“Ok,” Vanar said, disappearing from the doorway.

“Loki said the elixir’s effects would last a few days. It’s barely been one,” said Boda.

“You had quite a shock learning of this Shadow Man and the curse he placed on him. You’re tired after toiling to prepare one of the best meals I’ve enjoyed in some time...”

“You don’t need to flatter me. Vanar should be going to bed soon. I'll clean this up,”

“I’ll see to it and to Vanar as well,” Thor replied, “You should rest. As my mother says, you cannot care for others if you neglect to care for yourself.”

“Our lessons were one of the few things I had to look forward to. I used to pretend she was my mother,” said Boda.

“She’s the mother of all of Asgard. When Loki petitioned our father she spoke on your behalf,” Thor informed Boda.

“At least everyone knows I’m going mad. I knew something was wrong...no one believed me when I told them something was wrong with my mother...not until the day she-” Boda said, breaking off as she put her hand to her forehead, swaying on her feet.

Thor took hold of her shoulders, steadying her as Boda lowered her arm, noticing the slight bruising around her wrist where Thor had gripped it.

“You're right...I should retire,” said Boda, fatigued, as Thor placed an arm around her, escorting her from the room.

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Arvid opened the front door of his abode to find Loki standing outside flanked by two einherjar, a bottle in his hand.

“I’m not interrupting anything?” asked Loki.

“No…not at all.”

“I thought since my father ordered the tavern closed…” Loki continued.

“Will your friends be joining us?” Arvid asked, referring to the einherjar.

“They’ll remain here to accompany me after I take my leave.”

“Come in,” Arvid said, moving aside, Loki entering, Arvid closing and securing the door behind him, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Loki crossed to a settee, seating himself, setting the bottle on the table between it and the armchair. Arvid glanced around the room, his eyes falling on a cabinet, drinking vessels atop it. Walking to the cabinet, Arvid retrieved two of them, carrying them to the table and setting them down, seating himself in the armchair.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” said Arvid

“You were expecting another?” asked Loki.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone. I suppose rules don’t apply to royalty.”

“Actually, my father made it a point in my last conversation with him that they do, thus my escorts this evening. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Loki replied, Arvid remaining silent, sitting stiffly, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes...I’m fine...a bit anxious, out of sorts considering...” Arvid replied.

“This may help. I nicked it some time ago from my father’s store of spirits. I’ve been saving it for such an occasion,” Loki said, uncorking the bottle and pouring the golden liquid into both vessels, picking one up and holding it out to Arvid who took it from him.

“Thank you,” Arvid said.

“To our success in Midgard,” Loki said, Arvid lifting his goblet as well before both drank.

Loki surveyed the room, noticing the paintings on the wall.

“I see you took my advice,” Loki observed.

“Advice?”

“The paintings.”

“Oh, yes.”

“That reminds me. I’ve yet to give Fandral his gift. I took Fandral and Thor on a bit of an adventure to Midgard some time ago. Judging from the clothing worn by the subject in the painting it was around the same time which is why it reminded me of him. We spent days traveling from place to place, mostly by train. They traveled far slower then. They had yet to invent vehicles as you and I made use of. Fandral did a passable job impersonating mortals but my brother could never get the hang of it. He was like a bilge snipe in a potter’s shop. I suppose being drunk a great deal of the time didn’t help, but then Fandral and I were no less so.”

“How does it feel?”

“To be drunk? I’ve practically carried you back here on more than a few occasions.”

“To be a father.”

“I’m still acclimating myself to the idea. To my mother’s dismay I wasn’t sure if I wanted children to judge me unworthy along with everyone else. Now that I find myself one, I plan to improve upon my own father’s performance, though that should hardly pose a challenge,” Loki said, falling silent before reaching for the bottle and pouring himself more, “I’m afraid I can’t tarry long. Boda is ill. In light of her condition, my father agreed to allow her to occupy my grandparents’ cottage instead of a dungeon cell, though her movement is restricted. Vanar is staying there with her for the time being. He...he proved in need of time to adjust. I left my brother in charge of them. I don’t wish to impose on his time," Loki explained before he began to chuckle, “The magazine with the photographs of mortal women…when I awoke this morning, Vanar had risen before me. I found him engrossed in its pages as I have no television.”

“I believe I’d find that more interesting than cartoons as well,” said Arvid, Loki looking from his goblet at him.

“I promised you an explanation. I hadn’t had contact with her for six years. She’d broken with me when she learned of Vanar’s impending arrival. Vanar had been abducted. The wretch who abducted him demanded a relic that was being housed in the museum in exchange for his safe return. She contacted me asking for my help to retrieve it. I thought she planned to sell it. I decided to remain to insure whatever deal she had made was honored. I suspected there was a reason he wished to obtain it beyond money. Of course, as always, I was right. My decision to remain and my scheme to replace it with a fake likely saved the universe. There’s no ‘likely’ to it, actually.”

“Well...it’s not everyday one has the opportunity to share a drink with a savior of the universe."

“It’s poetic in a way…Boda’s exile was precipitated by one relic, her return brought about by another. Would you like more?” Loki asked, picking up the bottle.

Arvid held his goblet over the table as Loki refilled it, adding more to his own before replacing the bottle on the table. Loki emptied the contents of his goblet in one long drink, setting it on the table with the bottle. Rising, he walked around the table to stand behind Arvid’s chair, placing his hands on Arvid’s shoulders, massaging them.

“On second thought, perhaps I may extend my stay to assist you in overcoming your anxiety. I’m sure Thor won’t mind the opportunity to spend more time with his nephew. He seems to enjoy spoiling him.”

“What about her? The mother of your child?” asked Arvid.

"She was never more than someone with whom to occupy my time. I only visited her in Midgard as I knew it would vex my father if he knew of our liaisons. She means nothing to me.”