“It’s all right,” Frigga assured Vanar as he hesitated at the top of the stairs inside the vault, squeezing her hand as the tall double doors closed behind them, their einherjar escorts remaining outside.
Frigga led the boy down the stairs as Odin approached, the expression on his face denoting that he had not expected his queen to be present.
“I can think of only one reason you would summon him here. That question could have been answered by any healer,” Frigga said to her husband and King.
“I had wished no one to be aware I ask it,” Odin replied in a tone that made clear ‘no one’ included his queen before turning, Frigga and Vanar following him into the vault.
Vanar remained silent as he turned his head this way and that with an expression of both awe and anxiety, gripping Frigga’s hand even more tightly as they passed by pedestals and niches displaying various relics. Reaching the pedestal upon which rested a rectangular box that exuded a blue glow, Odin turned to Vanar.
“Vanar, join me, please,” Odin requested, Vanar peering up at Frigga with uncertainty.
“There’s nothing to fear,” Frigga assured Vanar with a smile as she released his hand, Vanar leaving her side to stand beside Odin.
“What is it?” Vanar asked as he stared unblinking at the strange relic before him that sat at eye level to his small frame, mesmerized by the azure light emanating from it.
“A relic of great power,” Odin answered simply.
“Will it fix me?” Vanar asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Odin replied.
Odin took hold of the boy’s arm and raised it, resting Vanar’s palm on top of the Casket of Ancient Winters, holding it there as Vanar attempted to withdraw it, gasping in shock.
“It’s cold!”
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Loki and Boda descended the stone stairway that led to a long corridor, a pair of einherjar on patrol walking a few yards ahead of them, after having made their way from the healing room to their current location in silence. Reaching the foot of the stairs, Loki glanced over at Boda who stared straight ahead, her face devoid of any expression. Loki reached over, taking her hand, his action appearing to momentarily jolt Boda from her trance as she turned her head to look at the Prince of Asgard, Loki noting the fear evident in her eyes before she returned her attention in front of her as they continued forward.
“May I ask you something?” Loki finally said, breaking the silence.
“You just did,” Boda responded sarcastically, Loki rolling his eyes and shaking his head but with a hint of a grin.
“The music you favor...” Loki began.
“What of it?”
“To Asgardians a decade or two is nothing, a heartbeat, but in Midgard is it not considered out of date?”
“To some but there are many who enjoy it. It was the first music I heard in Midgard. You remember my first employment there after my exile, at the club, serving drinks before I learned to make them myself.”
“It was the reason I suggested you become the proprietor of a tavern of your own. Why labor to enrich another?”
“What a brilliant idea,” Boda replied sarcastically, “There’s a difference between a club and a hole in the wall tavern. I wasn’t exactly enriching myself after overhead costs, then after Vanar was born I had to hire help for a time. I’d only taken it all over myself once again about a year ago. What does my taste in music have to do with anything? It's not that strange. Even you're familiar with Will’s favorite song,” said Boda, as they continued on without speaking.
“Why didn’t you tell me of his murder when I visited you?” Loki finally asked.
“How could I have told you of an event that had yet to take place?”
“You said he was murdered before my visit. My memory is one of the few things I trust.”
“I must have misspoke. It was after. You visited me February 28th. It would have been the last day of the month but it was a leap year that year, there was an extra day, so you left...at some point...on the 29th. Will left the tavern some time after last call, so it was well after midnight April 15th. I recall thinking only a little over a day before how fitting it was considering the mortal superstition about Friday the 13th that it was on that day I learned–” Boda said, coming to a halt, appearing confused as the color drained from her face before she unexpectedly sprinted away from Loki down the corridor around the pair of einherjar.
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“Boda!” Loki called out, taking off after her, also passing by the two einherjar who began to pursue the pair.
On the verge of panic having lost sight of her, Loki was relieved as three Asgardian women traversing the corridor pointed to a doorway as he rushed towards them. Thanking them, he opened the door to witness Boda standing with her back to him as she faced the large cauldron built into the floor, chairs and chaises arranged around the common room, though due to the increased security measures it was now devoid of other Asgardians. Slowly closing the door behind him, Loki cautiously approached Boda as she held her hand over the flames. Hearing the door open and the clanking of armor, Loki turned to see the two einherjar both he and Boda had passed standing behind him. Silently waving them off, they retreated back into the corridor.
“Boda,” Loki said in a quiet, gentle tone.
“Is this real?” Boda asked as she continued to hold her hand over the flames, “Are you real? Is this a dream?”
Loki reached out, turning Boda to face him, taking hold of her wrist and moving her hand from over the fire, placing her palm on his chest over his heart.
“I’m real. You're not dreaming.”
“I'm sure you wish you’d never given this to me,” Boda said, lowering her hand from Loki’s chest as she looked down at the bracelet on her wrist, touching it, feeling the smooth stones under her fingertips.
“On the contrary,” Loki said, resting his hands on Boda’s shoulders, “Others came and went, but not you. No matter what I’d done or said, when I arrived at your door you always answered...you shouldn’t have.”
“What’s happened to me?” Boda asked, tears beginning to course down her cheeks as Loki embraced her.
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Thor, standing on the balcony turned to face the doors of Loki’s chambers as they were opened by two einherjar, Frigga entering, Vanar sleeping soundly in her arms. Concerned, Thor left the balcony, meeting his mother in the middle of the room.
“Is he all right?” Thor asked, looking down at Vanar’s peacefully dozing face.
“He wore himself out. After meeting with your father we enjoyed a bowl of rommegrot before spending a bit of time in the gardens,” Frigga answered in a quiet voice.
“He was up before dawn. I thought I was an early riser. I’ll take him,” Thor offered, extending his arms, Frigga transferring the boy into them, “Why did father wish to see him?”
“He had more questions about his time with Dario. He hoped he might learn something that would assist in apprehending him,” Frigga answered, Thor turning and carrying Vanar to the bedchambers, Frigga following.
Upon reaching Vanar’s bed, Frigga turned down the covers, Thor gently laying the child down as she tucked him in, smoothing Vanar’s hair back with her hand as she kissed his forehead.
“Pleasant dreams,” the Queen of Asgard whispered.
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“My son,” Odin acknowledged Loki as he approached the throne, the sound of his boot steps echoing in the expansive throne room, “There is a matter you wish to discuss?”
“I seek to claim my right as a son of the crown. I’ve asked Boda to do me the honor of becoming my wife. She declared her acceptance of my proposal in the presence of witnesses,” Loki stated to his father as he locked eyes with him.
Odin stared in silence at his son, his expression stony and stoic, Loki unable to glean any clue as to his father’s feelings or thoughts regarding his announcement, Loki's confident facade slipping in the presence of his overbearing father for a brief moment before he regained it.
“As a prince of Asgard you are entitled to be granted a petition on the occasion of your betrothal…if I were to give my blessing to your union and if the fulfillment of that request would pose no threat to Asgard or the realms,” Odin responded, Loki’s face falling before he began to scowl, appearing as a child on the cusp of a tantrum.
“I merely ask you grant her pardon! You can't honestly believe she poses a threat! Her actions were misguided but she intended no malice–”
“Be silent!!” Odin bellowed from the throne as he looked down upon his son, Loki acquiescing to his father’s command, snapping his mouth shut, though he glared at Asgard’s king with fire in his eyes, “I am prepared to grant both my blessing and your petition,” Odin stated in a calmer tone of voice, “If, to insure the continued peace and wellbeing of Asgard and the realms, you are willing to renounce your claim as a potential heir to the throne,” Odin informed Loki after which a heavy silence descended over the throne room after the echo of Odin’s powerful voice faded away, Loki staring in disbelief at his father, “Before you make such a decision there is something you must know...the boy is not your son.”
“I’m aware,” Loki replied in a voice only just loud enough for Odin to hear, Odin raising his eyebrows at the unexpected admission, “Boda has told me of his true father. He was a mortal who greatly resembled me by the name of William Henrikson. He was murdered before he knew of Vanar’s existence.”
“You would take as your wife a woman who has perpetrated a fraud? You would raise a child who is not your own?”
“There was no fraud. Her memories have been altered possibly due to a condition similar to what her mother suffered. I’m the only father he’s known. Though we are not bound by blood, I claim him as my son.”
“If she suffers from such a condition, you are aware what her fate may be. The day may come when you will be left to raise him alone.”
“I accept the possibility,” Loki said as Odin rose from the throne, stepping down from it as Loki lowered himself to kneel on both knees, producing his daggers and placing them on the stone floor before him, bowing his head, “I, Loki, Prince of Asgard-–”
“That won’t be necessary,” Odin said, interrupting Loki as he stood before him.
Loki remained kneeling for a moment in silent shock before retrieving his daggers and stowing them away, rising to his feet, Odin reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I grant my blessing and to your betrothed pardon.”
“Thank you,” Loki said in disbelief, struggling to make his mouth work to form the words.
“I will speak with her alone.”
“Of course,” Loki said, turning to make the long trek to the far exit of the throne room.
“Loki,” Odin said, Loki turning to once again face his father, “I am proud to call you my son.”