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Chapter 7

After the shadow had merged back into the wall, Dario rose from the rocky floor of the cavern, returning to his human form, now standing shirtless in the flickering firelight. Approaching the obsidian altar, he placed a case upon it, opening it and removing a folded silk shirt and tie. Donning them, he removed the obsidian idol from the altar, placing it in the padded case, closing it before spinning the numbers of the combination lock. Turning from the altar, he made his way to the elevator.

Exiting the elevator and proceeding down the hall he entered his office, setting the case flat on the desktop. Walking to the bar, he placed a tumbler on it, pulling the stopper from a bottle and pouring the amber liquor from it into the glass. After taking a drink he stared contemplatively into it for a moment. Returning to the desk, he pressed a button.

“Ready my plane.”

“Yes, Mr. Agger. What is your destination?” a female voice asked through the speaker.

“Norway.”

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“Thank you for the history lesson. Interesting that little episode was left out of the standard Asgardian history curriculum. I wonder what else we’re all being kept ignorant of,” Loki said to his father.

“I apologize,” Odin began, Loki looking at his father in disbelief.

“I beg your pardon? Is the sun shining in Jotunheim?”

“I regret my words in the presence of the child,” said Odin.

“He has a name.”

“Your sojourns to Midgard are at an end. As you had never caused any true harm, I turned a blind eye to them in the past,” Odin continued.

“That’s rather easy for you to do, I would imagine,” Loki quipped.

“You are forbidden to return to Midgard unless I grant you leave to do so.”

“I was growing bored in any case.”

“You have a son to tend to. The time for childish games has passed,” said Odin.

“I think it’s just beginning, actually.”

“Raising a child is a serious matter. It will be quite an adjustment for both of you, maybe more so for yourself. I had hoped when this day arrived it would have found you settled. It’s easier when the burden is shared by two.”

“Burden…” Loki said, pursing his lips and nodding once, “Interesting choice of words.”

“It may be difficult for you to believe, but I was once a young man as well. I too was guilty of youthful indiscretions. It’s not about you any longer. Whatever grievances you have with me, the time has come to relinquish them. I admit I have been far from a perfect father to either you or your brother. Now that you have a child of your own perhaps you will come to understand.”

“What of Boda? If the healer is able to produce a remedy? She can’t return to Midgard,” asked Loki.

“If she survives, she will remain where she is. Whatever her motivation, her scheme was treason against the throne. I will allow her visits with her son.”

“She’ll go mad as her mother did! She’s dying! Surely you can dredge up a morsel of mercy from the depths! If not for her sake, for Vanar. He shouldn’t see his mother die in a prison cell!” Loki exclaimed.

“You would have me set free in Asgard a criminal who is destined to go mad?” Odin asked.

“There has to be something–” Loki began before falling silent, a thought occurring to him, rather a recent memory, Boda’s words replaying in his head.

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“You are certainly full of surprises brother,” Thor said from behind Loki as he spied his sibling making his way down a corridor of the palace, catching up to walk beside him, Loki glancing over at Thor before turning his attention before him once again.

“Trust me, no one was more surprised than myself. You’ve met him?”

“I visited the kitchens for a little something to tide me over until dinner. I’ve had quite a busy day–”

“You’ve had a busy day?” Loki replied, “I asked mother to take him for rommegrot. Was he enjoying it?”

“I would say so. He asked for more,” Thor answered.

“And mother allowed it.”

“Of course, that’s what grandmothers do,” Thor replied with a grin.

“Heaven help me, he’ll be spoiled rotten within a week,” Loki responded.

“Uncles have a part to play in that as well."

“I suppose he deserves it after having lived his entire life a pauper hidden away in Midgard.”

“Mother said Boda returned with you.”

“She was dying…she is dying. Father being father, he sent her to the dungeon anyway.”

“She kept him hidden all this time?”

“When she learned of him she told me she didn’t wish to see me again. I accepted it with little difficulty,” Loki explained, Thor resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I knew you cared for her, that her exile was difficult for you.”

“I cared for her no more than others.”

“Why do you insist on telling falsehoods? If you hadn’t placed her above others you wouldn’t have risked father’s wrath by defying him.”

“Defying father’s ridiculous edicts at every possible opportunity is a favorite pastime of mine. I’ve made a career of it. It wouldn’t have mattered who she was,” Loki said, Thor appearing skeptical, “Where are they now?”

“They were on their way to the gardens,” Thor informed Loki.

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Frigga sat on a stone bench near the children’s play area of the gardens, smiling as she observed Vanar, now dressed in Asgardian clothing, Wolfie stuffed in his tunic pocket, the head and front paws poking out, as he interacted with the other children, climbing on the large stone sculptures shaped like various animals. Parents of other children sat on benches or stood on the periphery of the playground keeping watch over their children. Loki approached from behind the bench, walking around it and seating himself next to her.

“Where is he?” Loki asked, searching the playground.

“The frog,” Frigga said, pointing him out.

“He’s had a change of wardrobe I see.”

“We visited the clothier. There’s more being delivered to your chambers. I thought it best if he didn’t stand out from the other children,” Frigga told Loki.

“I’ll need to move to larger chambers.”

“I’ve seen to that as well. They’re being prepared. Tomorrow I will arrange for him to begin his schooling.”

“Obviously you know more about all of this. I have no idea what I’m doing,” Loki admitted.

“No one does in the beginning. You are no different than any of the others here.”

“They at least had time to grow accustomed to the idea, to prepare themselves somewhat.”

“I had begun to feel as if I had some idea, Thor had only just grown more assured on his feet and was beginning to run instead of toddle when you were placed in my arms. You were so different from your brother it was as if I was learning to be a mother all over again,” said Frigga with a smile, “I’m pleased that you are taking it so seriously. You’re still young. I know you had far different plans for yourself.”

“The moment I first saw him…something changed.”

“I recall you confiding in me not all that long ago that you felt as if you lacked purpose. Perhaps it was discovering you now have one.”

“How is he doing with the other children? I’m not sure he’s ever been in the same room…”

“He was tentative at first, as would be expected. He seems to be well adjusted considering the circumstances,” Frigga said.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Boda deserves the credit. What if she’s lost to him?”

“He would not be the only nor the last Asgardian child to lose a parent though it's uncommon to lose both as did his mother. Boda’s mother’s illness is rare. It was unfortunate which is why I offered to take her as a pupil though she was older than most when they begin. I had offered to instruct her when she was the same age as you when I began your instruction, having sensed her innate potential, but though considered a great honor her mother was against it. It was likely an early symptom of her illness but went unrecognized at the time,” Frigga explained.

As Vanar climbed up to the top of another stone sculpture, Wolfie fell from his pocket. Another boy swiftly picked up the stuffed animal and ran away with it clutched in his hand, laughing.

“Hey! That’s mine!” Vanar cried, shimmying down from the sculpture and taking off after the boy, reaching him as the boy began to climb another sculpture, “Give him back!”

A low growl rose from Vanar’s chest. Snarling, Vanar raised his right arm, bending his fingers like a claw, swiping his hand across the calf of the boy’s leg, ripping his leggings, blood flowing from long gashes in his flesh. Losing his grip on the sculpture, the boy fell from it into the grass. Vanar picked up Wolfie where the boy had dropped him as the boy’s mother, Frigga, and Loki rushed over, Loki taking Vanar by the arm as Frigga and the boy’s mother tended to the injured and sobbing child.

“I don’t believe it’s serious,” Frigga said to the boy’s mother as they watched the gashes already beginning to mend, “I’m sorry.”

“Fritjof was in the wrong as well. Boys will be boys.”

“They certainly will,” Frigga agreed.

“It’s time we were leaving anyway,” Fritjof’s mother replied, she and Frigga assisting the boy to his feet.

“Vanar, apologize to Fritjof,” Frigga directed Vanar as he clutched Wolfie close to his chest.

“But I’m not sorry. He took Wolfie.”

“I wasn’t going to keep him. I was going to give him back,” sniffled Fritjof.

“Vanar…” Loki said reproachfully.

“I’m sorry,” Vanar said reluctantly, Fritjof, at his mother’s insistence, apologizing as well before she led him away.

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Loki entered the dungeon, a small green glass bottle in his hand, an Einherjar following behind him. As he made his way past empty and occupied cells, he heard the sound of singing, growing more distinct as he neared his destination. Boda, now dressed in a simple grey Asgardian gown, her hair cascading over her shoulders, sat on the bunk within the cell facing the one solid white wall, her back to the containment field as Loki stood before it, nodding at the einherjar who stepped over to the panel.

“There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando. They were shining there for you and me, for liberty, Fernando. Though we never thought that we could lose, there’s no regrets. If I had to do the same again, I would my friend, Fernando…” Boda sang.

“If I had to do the same again, I would my friend, Fernando,” both Boda and Loki sang, finishing the chorus.

Boda turned in surprise at the unexpected voice joining hers as the containment field was discharged, Loki stepping into the cell, the einherjar reengaging it and turning his back, standing before the panel.

“I thought you didn’t like Midgard’s music. You didn’t tell me you were coming back. Where’s Vanar?” Boda stood from the bunk and walked around it.

“Vanar is getting acquainted with his Uncle Thor who is continuing where my mother left off spoiling him.”

“His head must be spinning…playing with other children, learning he has a family, everything is so different here than in Midgard.”

“Considering the average lifespan of an Asgardian is five thousand years, the five he spent in Midgard will eventually seem like a dream. He’ll likely forget most of it. Drink this. It will slow the progression,” Loki said, handing Boda the small bottle.

Boda removed the cork from the bottle, lifting it to her lips, making a face as she drank the contents.

“That was awful,” she said, recorking the bottle and handing it back to Loki who magically stowed it away.

“I was warned it would be unpleasant. Perhaps this will help,” Loki said, magically producing a wine bottle in one hand, two goblets in the other.

“I’m not sure I should. Wine always seems to get me in trouble.”

"You're in the dungeon. What trouble could you possibly get into?" Loki asked as he moved to the small table in the cell, setting the goblets on it before grasping the neck of the bottle of wine, it glowing green as the cork popped out, Loki deftly catching it with his free hand, “How many bottles did we drink that night?” he asked as he filled the goblets.

“I don't remember. Enough that I couldn’t believe you sobered up that quickly in order to skip out on me. You didn't even leave a note. When I woke I thought maybe it had all been a dream,” Boda paused, “If my patrons knew what took place on that bar…” Boda chuckled.

“The pool table as well if memory serves,” Loki added with a smirk.

“That was before we even made it upstairs. I’m surprised we made it up the stairs.”

“It was quite a night,” said Loki.

“It certainly turned out to be one for the books,” Boda said wistfully.

Loki picked up a goblet of wine, offering it to Boda. Stepping over to the table, she took it, seating herself in one of the two utilitarian chairs, Loki lowering himself into the other across from her as Boda drank.

“How long will the elixir last?” asked Boda.

“A few days. The relic…my father told me what it is. I won’t go into the details of its history. Anyone who would drink from it would become one of the most powerful beings in the universe,” Loki explained.

“If you had left as you’d done before, if you hadn’t decided to stay…” said Boda, contemplative for a moment before continuing, “Do you remember what everyone called me as a child?”

“Angry Boda,” Loki recalled.

“I was always angry after my mother died, at everyone, everything. It felt so unfair. A parent lost in battle died a noble death, they were celebrated, revered. My mother just wasted away. She didn’t even remember me. When you began calling on me after you had come to tell me of my father's fate, I thought for the first time in a long time that maybe I could be happy. I didn’t want to lose that, I couldn’t lose that. I forced myself to accept that I wasn’t the only one...but then that day, when I saw you with another, I realized why I wasn’t enough, why you wanted to be king. You were searching for what your father and others had given your brother but not you. If I could give you that by winning you the throne, maybe then I’d be enough.”

“Instead of buying a tavern perhaps you should have used the money to obtain a degree in psychology. Mortals pay well to listen to people babble such nonsense,” Loki said, his voice hard, discomfited by Boda’s words.

“What do you think bartenders do? I’ve now realized something else. It wasn’t that you didn’t think I was good enough, that no else was good enough. As much as you want others to love you, you don’t feel that you’re good enough, that you’re worthy of it. If your own father, the King of Asgard, has judged you unworthy of love, how could you be? You believe if anyone claims to love you they must be lying, they must have an ulterior motive and so you leave them or give them a reason to leave, you betray them before they betray you. You’re certain they will eventually because they couldn’t actually love you. You don't believe it could ever be real.”

“If you’re finished with your analysis, I returned for another reason besides delivering the elixir. My father has agreed to release you,” Loki said, placing his empty goblet on the table,

“What?” Boda asked in disbelief.

“From the dungeon. You will not be free to roam about Asgard. You will still be in custody but elsewhere.”

“Where? What do you mean?”

“My grandparents, my mother’s parents, had a cottage near the sea. It’s been vacant for some time now though it’s been kept in good repair. My mother makes use of it on occasion when she needs time to herself. My father will create a containment field around the grounds. You will have some freedom of movement but you will not be able to pass beyond its boundaries.”

“This was your idea?”

“Yours, actually.” Loki replied before standing, “I should be going. Vanar is in need of a bath after his time in the gardens and to retire for the night. Enjoy what remains of the wine.”

Loki began to walk around the table, Boda rising and stepping in front of him.

“You have always claimed to want honesty yet are so quick to flee when one dares speak it...there’s something I must tell you.”

“Not more of that bunkum.”

“No, something that happened before your last visit. I’m not only a criminal here, but in Midgard as well.”

Loki, curious, returned to his chair, seating himself.

“So what is this dark secret?” asked Loki, pouring more wine into his goblet.

“There was a mortal. His name was William…he went by Will. He was my age…not my age, I mean, we looked around the same age. He used to visit the tavern. He was kind, he would bring me little gifts occasionally...sweets, a flower, a small trinket. I got to know him. He was the closest thing I had to a friend. He was like you, his attraction and affection for others not exclusive, but in Midgard there are those who refuse to accept that, to accept others for who they are,” Boda paused.

“Go on,” Loki said.

“One night he left the tavern. Two others followed him out. It was almost closing time. I didn’t think anything of it,” Boda paused, taking a long drink of wine, almost emptying her goblet, sitting it down and filling it again, “After everyone had left he returned...I don’t know how he made it back. They’d beaten him. He collapsed the moment he was through the door. I called for help but he died as I held him before they arrived. He was able to tell me who had beaten him but I didn't tell the police...I had other plans for them. When they returned I spent the evening flirting with them, plying them with free drinks. Before closing I asked them if they’d like to stay. I took them upstairs...I snapped their necks as easily as a mortal breaks a twig.”

“I doubt I would have been so merciful,” said Loki darkly.

“I disposed of their bodies where they wouldn’t be found. A detective asked me about them. I told him they’d come in, had a couple beers and left and I hadn’t seen them since. No one ever asked about them again.”

“You meted out the justice due them. Why trouble yourself over rubbish?” Loki asked.

“I knew what I was doing then. If there’s no cure, eventually I won’t. I might do it to you, to Vanar. My mother almost killed me. I don’t want Vanar’s last memories of me to be as a madwoman. If they can’t find a remedy, before it goes that far, put an end to me. Swear to me.”

“It won’t come to that,” Loki assured her.

“You don’t know that. If you ever loved me, if you only just cared for me, promise me.”

“I swear to you,” Loki said, finishing his wine, the empty goblet disappearing from his hand before he stood.

Boda rose as well, walking around the table to Loki, embracing him.

“Thank you.”

After Boda ended her embrace, Loki crossed the cell to the containment field, the einherjar stationed outside it turning at a word from him and disengaging the forcefield, reengaging it after Loki had stepped out, following him as he walked away from the cell out of Boda’s sight.

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“It’s time for us to take our rest. You don’t need anything to drink? You don’t need to use the toilet?” Loki, dressed in silk pajamas, asked Vanar who clutched Wolfie, dressed in Asgardian child’s pajamas beside Loki’s large carved and gilded bed.

“No,” Vanar said, shaking his head.

“Tomorrow night you’ll have your own bed,” Loki said, turning down the covers.

Loki boosted Vanar up into the large bed, pulling the covers up over him before walking around to the other side and slipping in, covering himself.

“Goodnight,” Loki said, turning his head on the pillow to look over at Vanar.

Vanar laid stiffly in the bed, clutching Wolfie tightly against his chest, staring with a frightened expression at the shadows cast by the dancing flames of the cauldron on the far wall of Loki’s bedchambers, his body trembling.

“What is it?” Loki asked, Vanar raising one arm, continuing to grip Wolfie with his other hand, as he pointed at the wall.

“Is he here?” asked Vanar in an anxious voice.

“Is who here?” asked Loki, puzzled.

“The Shadow Man.”

“Shadow Man?” Loki repeated, at first believing Vanar was speaking of a boogeyman as many children, including himself as a child, concocted in their young, fertile imaginations.

“He comes out of the wall. The Bull Man took me to see him. He was scary.”

Loki’s expression became sympathetic as he realized that Vanar was speaking of an actual recent traumatic experience. Loki was aware of the existence of the ‘Bull Man,’ though he himself had yet to witness Dario in his minotaur form, but now Vanar had revealed the nefarious existence of another.

“Come here,” Loki said, reaching out his arms, Vanar sliding over in the bed into them, “We’re far away from Midgard…Earth. All those you’ve seen with gold helmets, they guard the palace day and night. No one can get in that shouldn’t be here. Heimdall keeps watch as well. You’re safe here.”