- Why did you bring the Destroyer, King? - Heimdall met me at the control room of Bifrost. Or rather, me and the semi-intelligent creation of technomagic, capable of single-handedly sweeping away a regiment of ordinary warriors of the Aesir or Vanir, which I took from the holy of holies of the palace.
"I decided to post a sentry at the Rainbow Bridge," I state the obvious without unnecessary emotion, mentally ordering the combat automaton through Gungnir to stand at the exit of the spherical building.
"You don't trust me?" the guard of the Rainbow Bridge asked gloomily, glancing at the massive figure of the guard of the royal treasury.
- I have no doubts about your honor, nobility and devotion to Asgard, Heimdall... - I catch his gaze, adding a touch of coldness and irony to my voice. - And that is precisely why the Destroyer will stand here. Well, you know those uncomfortable situations when an absolutely loyal and honored warrior suddenly, at the behest of his honor, starts doing something crazy, like helping to provoke a war... and setting up the heir to the throne for exile. In general, all these embarrassing situations... - I pause, giving him time to assess the telling expression on my face. - Do we understand each other?
"What do you want from me?" the Guardian asked dryly, making a face like a thinking brick while still in the middle of my speech.
"First, do not blab about what you see and hear in Jotunheim," I abruptly break away from my place, quickly heading towards the transfer arch. "You can only tell my father, mother, or Thor when he returns," the armor, covered in adamantium, lay like a second skin over my body, replacing my everyday Asgardian clothes while still moving. "And second," I turn to him, once again catching the gaze of amber eyes shining with mystical power, "if the frost giants attack me during a conversation with Laufey, you must open the Rainbow Bridge and not close it until only a handful of cosmic dust remains of Jotunheim. Such is my order as the King of Asgard... The first and, perhaps, the last order.
- ... - Heimdall was silent for a few seconds, digesting what he had heard, after which he slowly closed his eyes and bowed his head. - It will be done, - something like respect flashed in the deep voice of the Bridge Guardian. Well, or so it seemed to me.
"Send me closer to the palace," I turn towards the arch, and Gungnir's heel touches the floor, filling the space with the sound of a low humming note, symbolically and actually giving my orders a complete look.
The dark-skinned giant did not answer, but instead the rustling of metal did, reflecting that the Guardian's sword was connecting with the control circuit. The mechanism of transition between worlds began to move, lightning crackled behind my back, which, if desired, I could see directly through the eyes of the Destroyer, who, thanks to the spear of the King of Asgard, was obedient to me practically as a second body. For a few seconds, Bifrost focused on the necessary point in space, and... A flash of multi-colored radiance pulled me into a tunnel shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow.
A short flight, and here I am among the icy wastelands of a dark, gloomy world. The frosty air rushed into my lungs, causing no harm to the divine body, but an effort of will - and a new feeling responded inside, acquired, no, awakened by contact with the Casket. Ice magic flowed through my veins along with the blood, transforming my skin and eyes in the image and likeness of the jotuns and removing even that ephemeral feeling of chilliness that the icy world could deliver.
Finding the huge palace of the rulers of Jotunheim with my eyes, I slowly walked forward. My presence is already known, the welcoming committee will arrive soon, and although I can hide, I do not do so.
- Invader... - the first to arrive jotun, dressed in ice armor, began, but froze in place, his eyes bulging and jaw simply dropping. His escort squad did about the same. It was surprisingly pleasant to see the complete shock on their faces. Why were they surprised? Well, it's not every day you see a creepy dwarf with the weapon of the King of Asgard in his hands. And yes, by the standards of jotun height and beauty, I was exactly that - a creepy dwarf. I think some of the Targaryen guards of the last generations of the dynasty would have experienced about the same feelings if Tyrion Lannister had shown up to them on a living dragon and with the sword "Black Flame" in his hands.
"Take me to Laufey," I began to strike while the iron was hot… hmm… metaphorically speaking. Okay, I was a little nervous and therefore, while maintaining an outward calm, I wasn't exactly shaking inside, but my tendency to make unhealthy puns showed through. Meanwhile, the giants looked at each other, clearly wondering what to do with this whole situation. After a bit of hesitation, the warriors came to the conclusion that this was not a question for their level, and, surrounding me with something like an "honor guard," they began to see me off.
We had to walk for a long time. About an hour and a half, if not two, the landscapes were not very diverse - ice and darkness, darkness and ice, as well as the backs and sides of my either escorts or guards. But then our path ended in a palace as gloomy and dark as this world. The building towered over the icy cliffs by several hundred, if not thousands of meters, the mighty bastions could have caused a lot of unpleasant sensations to any army of invaders, even the Aesir and Vanir. And they did in their time.
The halls, suites and passages were as empty and gloomy as the surrounding world. It seemed that there was nothing in it except for the light echo of my steps and those accompanying me, even the frost did not crack here, as if imbued with the atmosphere of general silence. A deceptive impression - we were being watched almost from the very entrance. The attention of the Jotuns was felt as an icy tingling under the skin. But no one went further than observation, and finally we appeared before the Ice Throne, on which sat an old and sinewy, but still powerful giant, surrounded by his personal guard and "courtiers". Laufey himself.
"What do you want, half-breed?" the jotun said contemptuously, not bothering with a gesture or raising his voice.
- Do you want me to say it in front of everyone? - I grinned. - As you wish... father, - a hum of whispers passed through the hall: surprise, disbelief, mockery, indignation and anger. The frost giant twitched his lips in a fleeting semblance of a grin and squeezed the armrests of the throne.
"I don't have a son – he died in the ice many centuries ago," the ruler of the planet responded in a voice like the rustle of a blizzard, not expressing his emotions in any other way.
- It's cowardly to declare the fruit of your own adventures with an asinya dead... don't you think it looks pathetic, especially considering what kind of asinya it was? - I grinned again, enjoying the way Laufey's face twisted again. Oh! He already understood why I was here and what I wanted. As well as the fact that he would hardly have a choice. - Be that as it may, I came to demand revenge. The blood of a traitor, taken in combat. That's what our laws say, isn't it, father?
"Why should I fight you?" Laufey said quietly, watching my movements warily from his throne.
"Because if you refuse or order your subordinates to attack me en masse, the Rainbow Bridge will be opened and, striking Jotunheim, will tear this world apart," I answered with a cold grin, allowing myself to relax a little. Attack my vis-a-vis before a number of circumstances were announced, and everything would become much… more complicated.
Laufey jumped up from his throne, clenching his fists in a fit of emotion, while his courtiers, on the contrary, froze in sharp tension.
"Then you will die too," the ice giant promised in a whisper, muffled by the rage seething within him.
"Maybe," I shrug nonchalantly. "Or maybe not. Who knows how I managed to prepare?" I let a caustic smile appear on my face. "The question is, are you ready to take the risk?"
"Go out to fight, so that in case of victory my world will still be destroyed by Asgard?" the jotun asked slowly, trying to imitate my mockery, and pointed with his scarlet eyes at the spear of the King in my hand.
"That's also possible," I didn't deny. "If we assume that Asgard loves me so much that they want to take revenge, disregarding the laws of an honest duel… Or, under the cover of the noise, get rid of the problem of war radically, blaming it all on me," I pursed my lips, stretching my face into an ironic expression. Loki's reputation was well known in all Nine Worlds, as was the fact that half of Asgard disliked me, but this didn't prove anything, it only added a sharp note to the anticipation and attempts to calculate the actions of the Aesir. "In any case, your chances are fifty-fifty, which, it seems to me, is much better than the guaranteed destruction of the planet if you are afraid to fight me.
"You worthless thing," Laufey hissed through clenched teeth. "You think you can force me that easily?"
"You misunderstand the situation," I have to lift my head to look him in the eye, but at the moment it doesn't stop me from looking down at him. "I already made you. Today you will die, and the only choice you have is…" I smile cheerfully, somehow reflexively, out of habit alone, "to remain in the memory of your people as a ruler who was not afraid to answer for his mistakes before his son, or not to remain at all, because there will be no more jotun people, just like Jotunheim itself.
"May you be damned," my vis-à-vis hisses.
"I'm already cursed," I answer him, joyfully spreading my arms. "Since birth, the blood of the biggest freaks of the Nine Worlds has flowed in my veins, isn't that a curse? So what?"
- Good, - the giant made the ice separating his throne from the common hall disperse, - after all, the King of Asgard, who himself came to lay down his head in our lands is a rare occurrence, so why not give him what he wants? - Laufey grinned evilly. - Make room! - the jotuns obeyed instantly. - I grant you a duel, here and now! Anyone who interferes will be punished by me personally - this was said already for the overly zealous guards and guards.
The next moment I had to dodge ice spears that almost pierced my head, and the floor under my feet began to become excessively slippery, however, the latter did not bother me much. A fire arrow flew from my spear, and from my left hand extended towards Laufey - an ice one, covered by an illusion and slightly shifted relative to the image that went to the enemy. The Casket of Winters gave me a lot, and this place itself seemed to suggest how best to use ice magic. In Asgard, I had only two days to get used to the new knowledge and add it to my arsenal, of course, not the main caliber - no matter how magnificent the artifact of the giants was, it could not replace centuries of practice, because it is not enough to comprehend the techniques, they also need to be harmoniously integrated into the fighting style. I only needed the very fact of my use of ice magic - in case one color of my skin for the "duel" was not enough. The situation was unlikely, but I was prepared for any, even the most unexpected outcome. Meanwhile, Laufey "breathed" the "Cone of Cold" in my direction and abruptly moved closer - with his size and strength, close combat was the best way out. Even the spear in my hands did not give any advantages - with his dimensions, the advantage in the length of the weapon remained on the side of the jotun. Nevertheless, this entire fight was one continuous show. The ice giant had no right to kill me, and I had no restrictions, and therefore this was not a battle. This was murder. Cold-blooded and calculating murder. Everything else is just a screen for the giant's subjects in order to preserve his reputation and prevent further war, since the jotuns will have no time for it. Choosing a new Tsar is a difficult task, especially in light of the fact that there are no direct heirs, and there are many "mighty and deserving" contenders. Asgard will not show hostility or activity, so they will have no reason to continue the conflict. Maybe in two hundred years, when the struggle for power dies down and the winner is finally established, he will want to return to the question of revenge, but after a couple of centuries of civil war, little will remain of the current strength of Jotunheim, and this will no longer be my problem. A good plan, just in the style of the God of Deception.
Meanwhile, the battle continued, and... it wasn't really difficult for me. I saw how Laufey was giving it his all, how he was becoming more and more serious, how he was already hitting for sure, but I was faster, and my physical strength wasn't that much inferior. I had already counted a dozen moments where I could have killed him in an instant, simply by spraying him with an attack from Gungnir or driving the dagger into an unprotected point on his body, but cutting Laufey instantly was not part of my plans. The fight had to be demonstrative - visual, so that all the spectators could be convinced that it was won fairly. Of course, it's hypocritical to talk about fairness when you have Gungnir itself in your hands, and you're wearing adamantium armor that covers all your vital organs, and you yourself are a master of illusions who can easily deceive an opponent, but... It's not the equipment that's being assessed, but how it's used. I did not use illusions, I did not strike with Gungnir to finish everything with one powerful blast of magical plasma, and I did not take ice blades on my indestructible armor, demonstrating its qualities. I won with the skill of combat, not with the tools of it.
But everything has its end. A fight "to save face" is no exception. Once again, bending over and missing a blow that could have easily turned my internal organs into mush, regardless of any armor, I grazed the tip of my spear along the giant's thigh. The giant's dark blood flowed down his leg. This was the beginning of the end, which we both understood. Laufey growled, trying to simply kick me away, but again unsuccessfully - I was too small for him, and therefore - indecently nimble. A dash to the left, and the enemy falls into the void, where my body had been a moment ago. The blow that went nowhere served as a new breach in the defense, and this time I no longer held back. Intercepting Gungnir closer to the heel, I make a sharp lunge, raising the spear upward. The magic tip enters Laufey's right armpit, completely disabling it, but due to the difference in height, the tip enters at a very unfortunate angle for a giant and hits his lung. The wound is extremely serious, and without timely assistance, the ruler of Jotunheim will choke on his own blood within a couple of minutes. I could finish him off right now, the slightest effort of will - and a flurry of deadly magic will break off from the blade straight into the body, but ... this was not the best option, and so I took another step forward, tearing the blade out of the Jotun's body. He took a couple of uncertain steps and, spitting blood, began to fall to the floor, but caught himself, literally freezing half of his body. Not the most healthy move, as my newly acquired instincts told me, but it will give him time for one final blow. And Laufey delivered it. The air... no, the space itself cracked from the unbearable cold that the giant was calling upon, the spear, seemingly capable of freezing the very soul of the victim, was torn from the fingers that had turned into ice crystals and... was dispersed by the fiery ram that had torn itself off the tip of Gungnir at my will.
And the next moment I already stuck the weapon into his body...
"You… have won," the giant said, clutching Gungnir and spilling blood from his punctured liver onto the floor. Life was leaving the jotun, but he still had a little strength left to do something. "I… acknowledge you… as my son… and heir. After… kh-kh… after my death… you will become the King of Jotunheim," the frost giant glanced around the hall with his fading scarlet eyes, lingering on the representatives of his guard and someone else, advisers, I suppose. "That is my final order!" Laufey closed his eyes. "Try to get out of this now, pup," he croaked barely audibly.
- Get out of it? - I whispered back with a grin, holding his soul in this world with magic. - Everything went exactly according to my plan... - and putting an end to his existence, I sprayed Laufey's body with a powerful plasma clot from the blade of my spear at the very moment when the vile grin that had already blossomed on his lips trembled in incomprehension.
There was a noise nearby and I turned around, raising my spear to its original position, ready to fight back and run, but… it was just the Jotunheim Royal Guard. The Jotunheim Royal Guard, kneeling before their new King.
In the silence that followed, I walked up to the throne, designed for a completely different rider, and thought for a moment. Trying to climb on it would look ridiculous and stupid beyond belief. Destroy it? Then any Jotun would consider it a matter of honor and his direct duty to rip my head off. And he would be right, in principle. In the end, I decided to use ice magic to simply freeze the "stand", but as soon as I directed the power, I realized that the Throne of Jotunheim had much more in common with the Throne of Asgard than the function of a chair for the royal seat. The neural interface of this structure was similar to that of the Casket, but the functionality resembled that of its "brother" from the city of the Aesir. But there was one fundamental difference. The technologies of the ice giants were more magic than technology, and therefore the form meant little compared to the content. An effort of will, and the Throne reconfigures itself to fit my dimensions, simultaneously giving access to Laufey's "records" and "thoughts." Nothing particularly important, but worth looking at. But first...
"Yavar," having learned the name of the previous owner's first advisor from the interface, I turned to the Jotuns, who were still motionless: the guards were kneeling, the rest… looking incredulously at the soot stain on the floor.
"My… Tsar?" asked the old and somehow… short looking jotun very uncertainly.
- See to it that what remains of Laufey's body is buried with dignity. If I hadn't given this order, they wouldn't have treated me any worse, because it couldn't get any worse, but "growing my reputation" would have been unlikely. It's not that I really needed my reputation among the bloodthirsty ice giants, but why make things difficult for myself out of nowhere?
- It will be done, - he reluctantly bowed his head. But Yavar could not help but carry out this order, he would not have been understood. But by carrying it out, he thereby created a precedent. The First Advisor carries out the orders of the new Tsar. A small fact, but it is from such facts that the habit of carrying out the orders of a superior is created.
- Excellent. I also need information on the state of affairs in Jotunheim. Gather those with whom Laufey discussed these matters, - the adviser nodded again, as if through force. He needed to arrange for the funeral, and therefore there was no time to think and somehow refuse. Another small noose around his neck, no, he could try to kick up a fuss, but... a demonstration duel with one of the strongest ice giants in history clearly showed that this was a bad idea. Everything was going according to plan.
The chain of events was weaving into the desired pattern. Of course, there would be outrage, open challenges and attempts at secret elimination, but that would come a little later, and while the government was decapitated, one could take advantage of the moment and skim the cream. The fact that the Jotun Throne had its own neural interface and data bank was undoubtedly a stroke of luck, but one should not rely solely on it. I needed live information as well. And they would provide it to me, and from there it would not be far to "people's love", fortunately I had something to offer the legions of bloodthirsty monsters locked in a gloomy, cold world. A satisfied grin appeared on my face, and as I learned much later, it was at that moment that the Jotun guard truly believed that I was Laufey's son, strengthened, matured and strong enough to take his father's throne. And the ice giants respected strength.
The "advisers" gathered surprisingly quickly, well, for long-lived giants who have not been in a hurry for a thousand years. Only a couple of hours were spent on "preparations for the burial" of Laufey, during which I was able to more or less familiarize myself with the situation through the Throne of Jotunheim. And then came the presentations and reports. My "servants" did not trust me much and respected me, which is quite logical, but they were all experienced and well-traveled creatures, and therefore they were in no hurry to run into trouble or otherwise test my strength. In general, it was possible to work. As for the data they provided... Everything was bad. Very, very bad. And that was good. For my plans, of course.
So, what was Jotunheim? It was a full-fledged planet, its size, if any, was smaller than Earth's. But it wasn't very lucky with its orbit, nor with its star. Not only was Jotunheim somewhere in the region of Mars, plus or minus a couple of tens of millions of miles, but the star itself was a dim White Dwarf, which could neither shine normally nor warm, although it had the mass of the Sun. And there would have been no life on it, but for the magical background. A special background, I might add.
The origin of all divine races is shrouded in mystery, but at some point life appeared on Jotunheim, and it was initially far from the parameters of ordinary mortals. Of course, there was no talk of such a wealth of flora and fauna as in Midgard, but the world was not sterile either - mosses, lichens, insects that devoured them, small animals like ice foxes, and larger ones like ice boars and completely incomprehensible, but huge mutants. Well, and the Jotuns, as the crown of local evolution and the top of the food chain. A harsh and cruel world that gave birth to the same children. The ice giants were somewhat similar to a mixture of some nomadic people of the Earth, about the fifth century BC, and the tribal system of the Stone Age. And with all this, they were in no way stupid savages. The cult of force, the acceptance of cruelty as a given, the tradition of robbery and devastation, accepted by itself. Equality or, forgive me, Cthulhu, democracy? Never was and never could be. Only the Right of the Strong. Although feminists would like it here. In the sense that a beaten evil bitch could very well cut open the belly of a man she didn't like and perform fortune telling on his intestines. Of course, provided that he is a worthless weakling, and she is a respected witch, capable of opening passages to the Paths of Shadows.
As befits such "hardcore nomads", they lived by raiding and plundering. And everything was fine with them until they reached the territory "protected" by Asgard with their expansion. Well, then everything was standard - two warlike empires could not peacefully disperse, and as a result of a long conflict, Odin came to Jotunheim and finally showed who was the boss in the area. The result was the blockade of Jotunheim. The people who lived by robbery and plundering were deprived of a source of livelihood, as well as a way to quickly "train" new warriors and shamans-witches. And the ice giants had to get out of it. Small gangs, periodically going on raids with the help of virdman sorcerers, could not meet the needs of the world's population, nor could hunting for not so frequent and, moreover, very dangerous game. And the Jotuns were forced to look for other ways of existence. And they found it. Ice magic can do more than just kill, although that is its most effective use. Over a thousand years, making sacrifices and exploring treasures stolen from more prosperous worlds, the children of Jotunheim were able to establish a more or less tolerable life in their world. Cultivate some plants and animals... well, not to think about the mammoths from Skyrim... In general, it was possible to survive. Survive, but not live - an isolated world could not even afford to restore all the damage to the infrastructure left over from the last "courtesy visit" of the Aesir. Yes, the Jotuns have changed, become more cautious, more restrained and "civilized", but their dream of the "good old days" has not gone away. Just as several tens of millions of people who want to return to those same "old days" of bloodthirsty monsters-cryomancers, capable of crushing even armor made of the best Asgardian alloys with their bare hands and who personally witnessed the heyday of their expansion, have not gone away. And if you consider that every Jotun knew from adolescence which side to grab a weapon from, as well as a couple of even the most primitive, but techniques from Ice magic... In general, I was sitting on a real powder keg that could explode at any moment. This is exactly what Laufey was counting on when he appointed me King. On the one hand, I would not be able to order the Rainbow Bridge to hit my new kingdom - after all, even without taking into account Loki's reputation, many will ask the question: he did not spare only his subjects, although he shared blood with them, but what if we do not please him? On the other hand, the creepy dwarf, accustomed to being a loner, will not be able to hold back this entire crowd of monsters thirsty for a fight and trophies. Yes, this could really become a problem, or even the beginning of complete chaos and anarchy, from which nothing good would come in any case (that is, if Surtur with the kids or some Kree didn't get involved in the showdown under the cover of noise). But I knew where and how to direct this whole crowd of monsters.
- Well, - having finished listening to the reports, I began my prepared speech meaningfully, - the situation is really... unpleasant. However, - I cut off the emerging whispers, - I believe that for me, as the King of Asgard and Jotunheim, there is no longer any point in keeping one of my worlds under blockade.
"This…" Yavar, who had surprisingly quickly become something of an unofficial leader of the high-ranking jotuns, could not believe his ears.
- Yes, - I nodded, - as long as Jotunheim is my domain, Asgard will not lock it away, - I grinned, - however, as the King of Jotunheim, only I decide where, when and how my army will strike. And anyone who disobeys my will will be considered a renegade and must be destroyed immediately! Bring this news to everyone.
- It will be done... my King, - the elderly giant bowed his head, nevertheless shutting up the two younger ones with one glance, who clearly wanted to say something. Yavar was smart and understood perfectly everything that was left out of the speech. Yes, the Jotuns will be able to go "on a campaign" again, but only where I show them. And such a "privilege" will be available to them only while I am their King... and the King of Asgard. Oh, of course, they will not believe me, they will look for hidden meanings. But... after the very first campaign, a successful and successful campaign, even the dumbest giant will tear his veins so that not a hair falls from my head, and both thrones remain for me. I suppose that the most stupid ones will be explained by more intelligent relatives, and if they do not understand, they will help. To tear veins, that is for sure. True, I had to live to see this bright moment. And also to clarify a couple of points about my goal, but these are already details.
- Then gather your warriors, prepare your equipment. In less than a year, we will set out on a campaign. Until then... I will temporarily leave Jotunheim - we need to clarify a few points about our future prey.
- How can we contact you, my King? - hm, this time they had to make a less enormous effort to say it. That's what a carrot in the front and a carrot in the back does!
- I'll contact you myself, in an emergency... call Heimdall, he'll let me know, - perhaps it was too cruel to the Afro-Asgardian, but I have to punish him somehow for all this crap? After all, in fact, it was his connivance that launched the chain of events as a result of which I'm now squirming around instead of lying peacefully somewhere in a hammock, drinking cocoa and cuddling with a combat hamster. So it's all fair!
At this point the short audience was over, and I headed back to Asgard – there was indeed a lot of preparation to be done.
Ibid. After Loki left.
- What do you think about this, Yavar? - the giant of powerful build, only slightly inferior in stature to the now deceased Laufey, turned to the elder jotun. However, for a general and someone whom the previous Tsar entrusted to lead campaigns of conquest in his name, his stature was quite suitable.
"I don't know yet, Belmir," the relatively short giant shook his head. "Loki is famous for his cunning and treachery."
"The damned degenerate," the third participant growled, "killed the Tsar and now thinks that he can rule us?!"
"He acted according to our customs," objected the fourth.
- Since when do our customs extend to half-breeds? Maybe we should tolerate some son of a snow boar on the throne?
"If this son of a snow boar is capable of destroying our world with one command, then yes. We will tolerate him, bow down to him and call him our King," Yavar snapped.
- Coward! Spineless weakling!
- Into the circle! - the old man roared. - I'll smash those words back down your throat!
The giants left the table and proceeded to a small hall, relative to their size. The inhabitants of Jotunheim were not distinguished by their meek nature, and with such a difficult character it was quite logical that there should be many places for resolving emerging conflicts. Including the Council Hall - for "debates" of respected "people" who did not agree in their opinions.
The disputants came out into a circle, a short skirmish - and the relatively young jotun falls onto the frozen floor, clutching his broken nose and spitting out his knocked-out teeth - even though Yavar was old, and had never been distinguished by his physical strength and stature, but the experience of thousands and thousands of fights, together with his talents in ice magic, once again proved that he rightfully occupied his place next to the Tsar.
- Now we can continue, - after a short duel, the Jotuns returned to the first hall. - Does anyone else have anything to say in response? - all those present cast short glances at their fellow tribesman, who was sitting with his head bowed. He had lost in a fair fight, no one would hold it against him, but the poor fellow had better keep his mouth shut for the next ten years. Shaking the air without having the strength to back up his words with personal power... the Jotuns did not approve of that.
"Where are the guarantees that the half-breed will keep his promise?" Belmir returned to the conversation, most interested in the opportunity to send the army into battle again.
"There are none," stated the giant, who had been silent until then, "however, even such a 'King'," he grimaced, "is better than the civil strife that would have started if Laufey hadn't acted as he did. Besides, he is strong enough and has mastered our magic."
- And still, Yavar, he is a damned ugly dwarf.
- A damned ugly dwarf, - agreed Yavar, - who can open the doors of the worlds for us again. Make Jotunheim great again. What difference does it make to you, Belmir, who sits on the throne, if our warriors can taste blood again? Bring back rich trophies?
"Hmm…" he thought, "not everyone will be able to accept and understand this," another look at the defeated loser, "even among us."
- True, but... - Yavar thought, - we'll have to endure. In any case, until we recover enough to close ourselves off from the Rainbow Bridge.
"Loki is not an idiot, no matter how much I would like him to be," sighed another giant, "he would never allow this to happen."
- Yes, it is true... - the elderly jotun grinned wickedly, - and therefore we need to prepare, create hidden bases, accumulate resources, so that at one moment we can get out from under the threat. And then we will be able to talk to the half-breed in another language.
- And what about Heimdall and his bastard eyes? This hall is impenetrable to him, but it was created by our best masters, in our world, with the help of the Casket of Ancient Winters, now we will not be able to repeat something like this even here, not to mention other worlds, if we organize caches there.
- The Guardian of Bifrost is not omniscient and will not be able to keep track of everything at once. We will have to use wyrdmen and go as far as possible along the Paths of Shadows. The process will be long and difficult, but... if you have other thoughts, I am listening to you, - there was silence in response. - Then it is decided. Belmir, begin preparations, a year is very little, especially after a thousand years of inaction. In the meantime, I will take care of the crypt for Laufey, - sighing, Yavar rose from his chair. The Jotuns had a lot of work and patience ahead of them. A lot of work.
Some time later. One Afro-Asgardian.
Heimdall felt bad. No, not that bad, he felt very, very bad. The very fact that Loki had become the King of Asgard greatly displeased the permanent guardian of Bifrost. It was hard to say what it was connected with - the character of the then still prince, his preference for using dirty tricks instead of an honest fight, or the fact that almost the first magical skill he learned was hiding from his sight. But what he saw and heard today... Loki was a Beast, yes, that's right, with a capital B. And his descent from an ice giant had nothing to do with this title. He cynically used the old traditions and customs of the Jotuns to kill his own father... even though he was raised in Asgard, but still... and then, then, threatening to destroy the world of the Jotuns, he captured it.
Alone!
With only one victim.
And now this mad monster had an army of evil, bloodthirsty tame giants at his disposal. Heimdall had no doubt that Loki would be recognized by the Jotuns as their King not in words but in deeds. Now the real reason for the Destroyer's presence here became clear. The God of Deception had not lied - the automaton really was keeping an eye on him, because even the dumbest Ace would not have allowed divulging SUCH information. True, this did not explain why he needed to inform him himself? Just because of the threat of using the Rainbow Bridge? And why did he give permission to tell the Allfather, Queen Frigga or Thor everything? Questions, questions and more questions, but the worst thing was something else...
This Mad Beast has returned to Asgard.
He returned and, as if nothing had happened, that same evening he was reading strange Midgardian tales to the little mortal girl who came with him...
Heimdall couldn't understand what was happening, what the point was, or if there was one at all. He wanted to turn away and not look, but he couldn't - what if this was another plan of this terrible King of Two Kingdoms? And so it was his Duty to continue watching. Although much more he wanted to just drink. Get completely wasted. So that he wouldn't see or hear. Wouldn't remember. Wouldn't realize. Yes... the next time Volstagg was here, he would ask him to bring a couple of barrels of the strongest mead he could get his hands on. If (Heimdall glanced at the Destroyer) they would let him do it.
Meanwhile, in the guest chambers, King Loki had already finished the story about the ball of dough animated by magic, traveling through the forest with talking animals, and had already spent several minutes describing the adventures of the bear, in which one could involuntarily recognize the features of Thor and especially Volstagg, on his quest for honey...
- ... and what Rabbit thought, no one ever found out, - the ingratiating and inspired voice of the God of Deception reached the divine hearing of the ace. - Because he was very well-mannered! - he finished the thought with feeling, making Heimdall grit his teeth from the feeling that he, and specifically him, was being subtly mocked...
And again Loki.
Having had my fill of teasing the Bridge Guardian, from whom I had not specifically closed myself off and whose reaction I had been watching through the eyes of the Destroyer, I once again made sure that Laura had fallen asleep and left the girl's room unnoticed by Yuriko and Sarah. They, however, had gone to sleep before my appearance, so only the battle hamster steadfastly waited for me to receive her daily tribute in the form of a bedtime story, the others managed quite well on their own.
However, having already entered the corridor of the palace, I… realized that I was not satisfied.
Because of stupidity, including Heimdall's, instead of relaxing in a cultured manner surrounded by lovely ladies, eating French fries or doing something equally useful and enjoyable, I am forced to carry two worlds on my back. What kind of Surtur is this, I ask?
In short, having left the chambers where the guests were sleeping, I went to tyrannize and dictatorship. And my first royal decree that night was to direct the gaze of the mighty Afro-Asgardian towards the worlds belonging to Thanos. This crazy hysteric wants to halve the population of the galaxy? Well, then I will help him! I will start with the places where he gets his army and resources, and at the same time I will walk my "legions of horror". In general, sad Heimdall went to write down the coordinates, knowing that they were needed to organize the Jotun raid. I could feel how physically painful it was for him, but the presence of the Destroyer motivated me like I don't know what - he promised to complete his task in a month. Yes, Thanos really had a lot of worlds at his fingertips. But the first results can be obtained in a couple of days. And that was good, because the next step was to get Thor out and put the toiler to work... uh, I mean, give him back his rightful throne, yeah, that's what we'll put it. True, before that I had to show up in front of Frigga, she's worried about me after all, and it would be funny to tell Odin about my "knight's move". The main thing is that he doesn't accidentally have a stroke. Or that he doesn't decide that he needs to "wake up right now".
Without putting off the decision for a long time, I directed my steps to the chambers of the Allfather, where the Queen had not left her post. Oh, how jealous I am, Odin is a real asshole, but he got a wife to look at. And a smart one, and a beauty (she was somewhere around a thousand years ago), and she loves him, such a goat. After all, if something happens, and really, like in Scandinavian legends, she will climb on his funeral boat...
"I'm back, Mom," throwing the gloomy and somewhat envious thoughts out of my head, I entered the bedchamber and smiled at the woman who, as I thought, was sitting next to Odin's bed.
- Loki, - one single word, and I already feel incredibly awkward. Not even a few seconds had passed before I was hugged, examined for damage, and hugged again. - You're back, - oh, here again is this multidimensional maternal intonation, to which there is nothing to respond... And also the curiosity that Frigga began to exude, you could almost physically feel it.
- Yes, yes, - my smile grew wider. - Well, that's it, I've checked in, shown that I'm okay, and now I'm taking my leave...
- Loki! - Oh, a mixture of a threatening demand and a plaintive request. And how does she do it?
- Okay, okay, I was joking, - I sit down on the guest chair, leaving the spear standing next to me. Asinya sat down next to Odin's bed again. - So... In general, I solved the problem with Jotunheim. And Laufey won't bother us anymore either.
"Can you give me a little more detail?" the woman frowned, anticipating the fact that the news I had voiced would hardly be to her taste.
"Okay," I stroke my palms against each other, as if choosing the wording. "I took advantage of the traditions of the Jotuns themselves, challenged Laufey to a duel and killed him, simultaneously seizing power in that frozen world and becoming their Tsar.
- ... - Frigga blinked silently. Hm. Did it seem to me or did Odin's cheek just twitch strangely in his sleep?
– … – I raise an eyebrow questioningly.
- This... is not a joke?
"No," I shook my head.
- So you... just took and conquered the world that even the Allfather couldn't subdue... and did it alone? In a day?
- A couple of hours, to be precise. Another six were spent getting to the bottom of the situation with Laufey's advisers. Sorry I didn't make it in time for lunch.
- ... - does not forgive. I can see it in his eyes!
- Well, Mom, - I was already indignant, - you pulled me out of my vacation and made me clean up the mess Thor made, but I really hope to get back to my plan of lying in a hammock somewhere by the warm sea of Midgard, preferably in the arms of a charming goddess. That's why I have neither the time nor the desire to drag out the process. But you don't have to worry, I didn't disgrace Asgard - everything was very majestic and dramatic! Gungnir will confirm, he really liked it, - I nod at the spear.
- Goddesses? - It seems that after this moment, my mother stopped hearing me. - Already the third... - she whispered quietly, but then she perked up. - Do you like her? What does she look like? Why didn't you bring her here? - Ahem, it seems that I really shouldn't have said that.
- Well... first of all, let me remind you that someone just up and pulled me out of Midgard almost in the middle of a rescue operation, secondly, I've only been on a date with her a couple of times so far and I'm still very, very far from winning her heart... if that's even possible, - I sigh, after all, in my memory, that same Dracula was never able to. Also, don't forget that we are in a movie universe, which means there should be Pain, Suffering and a Catch. For example, if I weren't sure of Prof's moral qualities, which are more suitable for a real Saint, I would start worrying that a telepath who had suddenly improved his health would steal my girlfriend. And inadvertently and casually. But I was sure of Charles, so I could only worry about the option where Storm steals Yuriko... yeah. But somehow I got off topic, and so did Frigga. - Let's get back to our sheep. I mean, Toru!
"Loki," they looked at me reproachfully.
- What? Of course, I love him, appreciate him and all that, but that doesn't change the fact that he tried to buy a kitten in Midgard to ride...
- A kitten?
- Oh? Did I just say that out loud? What a shame - yes, it's a minor annoyance, but oh so nice. - Anyway, what I think is, since the war with Jotunheim is off, maybe we should bring him back from exile and let him deal with the rest himself?
"You can't make him King," Frigga sighed. "Not after he's been stripped of his powers and banished to Midgard."
- But I can make him the King's viceroy in Asgard! And the fact that he has no powers is great, finally he will have to think with his head, and not with a hammer!
"You planned this from the very beginning, didn't you?" Odin's wife asked suspiciously.
"No, from the very beginning I was thinking about whether I should order a classic mojito or try a strawberry one," I said, as usual. "By the way, how are my guests? I even feel a little uncomfortable – I kind of invited them, but then I abandoned them, immersed in my work," yes, I brazenly changed the subject. But, apparently, Frigga liked this topic, and so she willingly switched, without expressing any objections to the plan to exploit Thor.
- Don't worry, they quickly found something to do. Lady Sarah became interested in the healers' work and listens to my explanations with pleasure, and Lady Yuriko became friends with the einherjar. Having learned that you had accepted her as your bodyguard, they were happy to offer her duels in order to assess her valor, - the asinya's eyes were shining.
- And how? - I became curious.
- At first, when they learned that she was not even a hundred years old, they were skeptical, but her fighting skills, combined with indestructible bones and the ability to heal wounds almost instantly and not get tired, made them change their minds. Physically, she is weaker than any ace and does not wield noble weapons, but even so, she was able to make many lie down on their backs in the dust and admit defeat.
Yeah, Yuriko isn't wasting her time. And in general, the idea is interesting... Equip her in the "latest fashion", fortunately, resources allow it, and she will really be on par with even the best aces. True, as at the time of our first meeting, the question arose, why do I need this at all? No, a nice and loyal assistant, of course, will always come in handy, but a thousand years of experience as a loner makes itself felt, I have not seen any particular use for her talents, but... she will come in handy around the house.
After discussing the Asgardian news with Frigga for another half hour, I decided not to drag things out any longer and return Thor, and so at dawn I went to the Guardian of the Rainbow Bridge.
"Hello, Heimdall," I glanced at the very, very sad Afro-Asgardian. "You don't look so well."
"Hello, my King," he tried to feign calm, but it didn't work out that way. "Everything is fine," he glanced sideways at the Destroyer, who was pretending to be an ordinary statue. "Everything is fine. Your decree to record the worlds belonging to the Titan Thanos is being carried out."
"Great, just don't overwork yourself," I encouraged the ace, "everyone needs rest, reasonable people without a vacation or when pulled out of one simply go wild, believe me from my experience."
- ... - I see, I am the Proud Statue, I know and understand nothing. Well, okay.
- Why did I come here, be a friend, organize a Bridge to the town where Thor is, we'll bring him home. So to speak, an amnesty in honor of the victory in the war with Jotunheim.
- Yes, my Tsar, - that... was his eyelid twitching just now? No, it must have seemed that way.
But the familiar rainbow tunnel opened up welcomingly, inviting me to enter and proceed to my destination. Well, I hope that in the couple of days that have passed since my illusory visit, Thor hasn't managed to get into any trouble. He hasn't managed to, has he?
As I exited the passage, I looked around, getting my bearings. It wasn't that I didn't trust Heimdall or that I was worried that he, out of the kindness of his heart and, of course, completely by accident, would send me somewhere to Surtur's horns (not when the Destroyer was standing next to him quietly fixing the primus, and I myself owned Gungnir, which allowed me to control Bifrost from anywhere in the galaxy), but I needed to understand where to go.
So, there it is, that backwater town, about four hundred meters away, and I myself am already in a vacant lot outside the city. Well, not bad, so, the next step is camouflage. A "man" in Asgardian clothes walking the streets of an American city is quite a sight, and I had no desire to shock ordinary Americans from the provinces - not the right caliber. An effort of will, and here I am standing in an expensive suit, patent leather shoes... and with a golden spear in my hands. Hmm-m-m... not right.
- Listen, Gungnir, how about sitting in a spatial pocket for a while? - I knew the answer, but what if?
- ... - a sharp denial. This willful weapon did not want to be in a place where no one could see its Power and Greatness.
"Okay, then at least let me turn you into a cane," I convey the image of an ornate cane. An anthracite-black shaft, reinforced and decorated with images of snakes cast in gold.
– … – the weapon thought about it, but the coloring was still somewhat negative, something like "it's somehow too short"... Well, there was supposed to be a joke about Freud and phallic symbols, but it's unlikely that my "interlocutor" would understand the whole point.
– By the way, in Midgard a cane is a very prestigious item, demonstrating the style and class of its owner.
– …
- I know that you are already beautiful and demonstrate who your owner is, but the locals simply won't understand. A thousand years have passed since you last showed up here, for mortals that's a long time, they have already managed to revise their ideas of greatness many times over. And anyway, you should be proud of me and realize your epicness - not even a week has passed since I took you in my hand, and you have already cut short the life of the King of Jotunheim right in the middle of the holy of holies of his domain and witnessed how your chosen one captured the entire kingdom! So you can be sure that if Loki says that a stylish cane is status and magnificent, then so it is. And in general, it is not proper for a weapon like you to break down, like a girl before an offer to take a walk in the night park for a feast with a charming ace, - I did not know why I was duplicating this with my voice, when the spear only perceives mental images, but... perhaps it was easier for me to formulate it this way. Yes, let's not think about alternatives - it is he who should be ashamed, not me!
- ... - something like a combination of embarrassment, acceptance, and a bit of amusement came over the comm. Hey, does Odin's weapon really have the beginnings of a sense of humor? I never would have thought so. Or has it already picked up all sorts of bad stuff from me?
Well... I'll have to visit a psychologist or a psychotherapist. Talking to a spear is weird, and when it answers you, it's even weirder, and seeing a crying Afro-Asgardian is also... not a good sign.
However, okay, consent was obtained, and Gungnir, without objection, allowed himself to be turned into an elegant cane, exactly the same as the one I showed in the thought-form.
"Excellent," I twirled the changed weapon. "Well, now I'm ready, and I can visit my dear brother."
Fifteen minutes of leisurely walking, and here I am again at the office of the "climatologists", who are astrophysicists. Yes, I remembered who they are by profession. Not much has changed since my last visit, except that a familiar road monster of the "palace on wheels" model has appeared in the parking lot in front of the building, and yes, I mustn't forget to pick up Laura's souvenirs, you can't deprive the fighting hamster of his sparkles. During the emergency evacuation, I somehow forgot about this, but now it's worth making a mental note.
- Is anyone alive? - I enter the door, indicating my presence with a short tap of my cane on the wall. Well, no locks or bolts. Come in whoever wants, take whatever you want.
- Em? - my old friend in glasses stuck her nose out from behind one of the doors. - Mister Loki? - she asked uncertainly, then looked at me more closely. - Wow... - and quickly darted back.
- Hmm... and what was that? - I asked the void.
The Void didn't answer, apparently, this is the exclusive prerogative of the Nathrezim, but oh well. But a couple of minutes later I was honored with the presence of people I already knew and Thor himself. And yes, Darcy, who met me first, managed to comb her hair, straighten her clothes and, it seems, put on a little makeup. Quickly, but why? Or... someone decided that since a friend had lassoed an entire God, then they could repeat the feat and seize a second one? Well, then the girl will have to be upset, alas. Despite the somewhat cuteness of her face, the pleasing fullness of her lips and the size of her breasts somewhere between a four and a five, it was quite obvious to me that if you remove the "correct packaging" in the form of clothes, the picture awaiting me would be "satisfactory" at best, but not "excellent". Here was the direct opposite of Yuriko, who at our first meeting wore a suit that gave her appearance the most repulsive effect, behind which, only on closer inspection, one could discern beauty. Miss Lewis acted exactly the opposite - striving to emphasize her attractive features, on the second - careful look leaving only flaws, nullifying the entire first effect.
- Loki? - the Thunderer was surprised.
- In person, - I saluted him with my cane, after which I had to stoically endure a bear hug. Although the man's heroic strength had diminished considerably, his dimensions remained impressive. - Do you know that the last time you hugged me so energetically was about seven hundred years ago? - I ask the blond, hugging the big guy back.
"Really?" Thor was even more surprised.
"Yes, since then you have mostly patted me on the shoulder and limited yourself to words," I enlighten this blockhead about his egocentric behavior.
- Oh! - Odin's son clearly tried to remember the details. - It was definitely because of your pranks, right? - the big guy asked me again, not very confidently, but... with conviction.
"Most likely," I did not deny.
"Good afternoon," Jane greeted politely, tactfully waiting for us to finish.
- Likewise... - I look at the scientists, pretending to remember their names just for fun. - Padme... Darcy... - the girls got it one by one, and now there was even more effort in the tension of thought. - An educated Viking! - Selvig got it in control.
"Eh…" the man blinked in confusion.
- I warn you: retelling me the sick sexual fantasies of your ancestors about my personality is a bad idea. I know that you Vikings adore it, but I will not appreciate it, - warningly raising my cane, I interrupt any prepared thought the man may have.
"Okay," the scientist assured me of his intelligence, accommodatingly and suspiciously quickly. But he knows what I'm talking about… And it seems he really thought about it… Vikings… they never change!
"Last time you never told me why you were calling me so strangely," Amidala pressed me, noticing the changes on her colleague's face but not focusing on them.
- That's right, - I smiled charmingly. - But let it be my little secret, - I wink at the girl. - So, why did I actually come? - I continued, not giving her time to answer. - As promised, I sorted everything out, you can go home, Thor.
- You... thank you, brother!
- Well, don't smother me with hugs! - He is too simple-minded and too energetic. - And it's premature to rejoice too. Since I am the God of Cunning, Evil Jokes and generally a scoundrel and villain in life, then there is a barrel of tar in your spoon of honey.
"What do you mean?" he cooled down a little, although he was still very happy.
- This is a private conversation, - I play with my eyebrows, hinting at the thick circumstances and seriousness of the situation. - I'll steal him for a couple of minutes? - I turn to the astrophysicists. - Do you have a room with a door?
- Yes, of course, let's go, - Jane bustled about, clearly understanding the situation faster than Thor. - Here... it's free, - she led us into a room from which a bunch of equipment had clearly been recently taken out, so that even the contour dust on the floor had not yet been smeared. - We'll be in the living room, - the girl assured us and hurried to leave us, dragging Darcy along with her, whose nose was clearly experiencing an attack of cat curiosity.
- In general, the situation is this, - I protect the room from eavesdropping and spying, including by one Bridge Guardian. - You will be able to return home, moreover, you will rule in Asgard, but... there are nuances.
- Which ones exactly? - Oh, Thor really thought and concentrated!
- I won't be able to give you your power back, at least not quickly. Odin, when he did what he did to you, was very angry and cast a spell from the heart. So in any case, you will have to endure the punishment and learn a lesson from it - only this will allow you to fully remove the spell cast in the name of your father, grandfather and great-grandfather.
- B-but... what will I do in Asgard without strength? - the brother in mind of all the Vikings drooped.
"Think," I said coldly. "You're too used to being a Thunderer, brother, and solving all problems by force. You never paid attention to whether your companions were up to the task and how dangerous it was for them. You weren't used to thinking about the consequences of your adventures. And all because you liked the feeling when, at the decisive moment, you saved your friends, turned out to be a hero, that you single-handedly changed the outcome of the battle, and so on. And that's a terrible quality for a Tsar. You forgot that not everyone around you is a Thunderer and that a Thunderer cannot be everywhere. And so you'll have to learn to trust others. Trust them with the matter, knowing that you yourself will not be able to influence the outcome in any way.
"I trust others!" the blond was indignant.
"No," I said harshly, "you believe them, but you don't trust them."
- A-a-and what's the difference? - this thousand-year-old miracle blinked its eyes naively.
- That you believe in the loyalty of your friends, but not in their success. When was the last time you let the Warriors Three and Sif fight alone? You are always with them. No matter how petty the skirmish, you are always ahead, always taking everything upon yourself, and only graciously allowing them to take care of the little things that manage to get past your hammer. You praise them and do not skimp on high words about valor, but have you ever let them win on their own, without you? Trust is not only believing in feelings and allowing them to watch your back, but also believing in your comrades. That they are capable of taking care of themselves and completing a task without the supervision of a nanny in the form of Mighty Thor. But this is not enough, - I hold his gaze tenaciously, watching his reaction and not weakening the pressure. - You also need to understand. Understand what they need, what they can do and what is beyond their strength. You will have to learn this. To give orders and accept their consequences, knowing that they may cost the lives of those you send into battle, and you will not be able to fly in at the last moment on your miracle hammer and turn the tide of events. I cannot lift your punishment, brother, I can only change it. And your punishment will be to rule Asgard, relying only on the strength of others, and knowing that your mistake, your flaw in the plan or your oversight will cost the lives of your subjects, and you will not be able to influence this in any way, except by thinking with your head in advance. It is time to grow up, brother. The galaxy is on the brink of a brutal war with a threat in comparison to which Jotunheim is nothing, and the Allfather will not always be with us to save and fix everything. The time for trying to buy a kitten and saddle it has passed.
- What's wrong with this kitten, - Thor muttered discontentedly, but his face was gloomy, and his eyes reflected the work of thought. And also resentment. He didn't like that his younger nerd brother was teasing him. Oh, I feel that Asgard will have more grief with him, despite all the shifts for the better. And as if he had overheard my thoughts, he hastened to confirm them: - And anyway, if you're so smart, become the King yourself!
"I would be glad to make you happy with my consent, but I cannot," I objected. "It was interesting to me when I was young and stupid, but now, as you remember, I am Laufey's son, and I cannot keep this news a secret forever, and Asgard will not accept such a King. If I try to hold on to the throne, the moment everything is revealed, it will become much… much worse. Especially after I won the throne of Jotunheim."
- You... you did what? - He sat down where Thor had been standing. At least he didn't end up on the floor, but managed to grab onto an empty nightstand with his hands on reflexes and land on it.
- How else could I deal with the problem of the impending war? So don't be an ungrateful bastard and replace me on at least one of the thrones. I'm already torn between three vacancies!
- What...? - my brother continued to look at me pitifully and wheeze.
– I found myself working with children at a local school, until my mother thrust Gungnir upon me along with the rest of the regalia that came with it, then the Frozen Throne from Laufey and the position of King of Jotunheim… I had to use their traditions and demand a sacred duel for revenge for blood betrayal. Laufey left me to die on the palace floor as a baby, and that was enough. So congratulations, by your grace I am now a patricide and ruler of a people of evil monsters, but I can handle that, but not when I also have to rule Asgard, where these monsters are hated.
"I... but..." the big guy helplessly opened and closed his mouth.
- Don't worry about your mortal - you can very well invite her to Asgard as an honored guest. And not just her.
"Can I?" Thor didn't believe it.
"Well, they have the king's permission," I shrug, "besides, my mortal guests have been admiring the beauty of the Golden City for three days now, so in any case, I will be the vile violator of tradition."
"I…" Thunderer looked down at the floor in confusion. "Thank you…" he exhaled after a minute of silence.
- Please. Now let's go - I still have to bring you up to speed...
People waited nervously for us at the dinner table, clutching cups of coffee in their hands, and stood up quickly as soon as we appeared in sight.
"Jane, friends," Thor began solemnly, "I have enjoyed your hospitality all this time, and now I ask you to be my guests!" Heh, he can speak smoothly when necessary.
"Guests?" Darcy asked.
- He invites you to Asgard, taking advantage of the fact that I have no time to argue - my job as a history teacher has not been cancelled. And the holidays are not coming soon, - I "explain" the situation.
"The god from Asgard works as a history teacher?" the "Scandinavian drunkard" blinked.
– It started as a hobby and to clear my head, but then I got hooked.
"Is that normal?" Foster asked. "I mean… Asgard… the gods…"
- You don't have to go anywhere - I'm not forcing anyone. Thor... - a look at the blond. - He's not forcing you either.
Of course, with this formulation of the question, people did not think for long and after fifteen minutes, having called colleagues-friends-acquaintances and warned that they would be "leaving on business" for a couple of days, they were ready to set out.
And so we got ready for the journey - I took Laura's souvenirs from the car and once again assured the mortals that the car was now theirs, well, I can't take my gift back, honestly? And so we headed out of the city - so as not to open the Rainbow Bridge in the middle of a populated area. And everything would be fine, but ... I underestimated the stupidity of S.H.I.E.L.D. We did not have time to turn around the last building of the town, as several brutal black cars drove out to cut us off, armed people poured out and blocked our way, another squad of operatives appeared from behind. All I could do was sigh heavily.
- Raise your hands behind your head and get on your knees! - the mortals were completely stunned. Among them was Agent Coulson, who was speaking into the megaphone and whose cognitive functions I, frankly, had previously had a higher opinion of.
- You know, - I was in no hurry to fulfill the demands, - you guys don't learn anything at all. Admit it, your job description forbids you from being smarter than your superiors, and after Fury became the boss, there was simply no one left on the staff smarter than a stool?
"What are you…" the stunned agent began.
- But if I say "Hydra Dominatus" now, how many of the guys here will realize that I'm one of them and point their guns at the loyalists?
– …
- Ah, sorry, wrong universe. Hail Hydra! Code Omega-3-8-15.
- Heil!
- Heil! - Oh, Coulson's face at that moment was inimitable, especially after two thirds of his fighters abruptly turned and took aim at the rest. I love illusions. Both simple optical and sound ones, and material ones, which appeared just for a split second behind the mortals and with the same movement cast a spell of consciousness shutdown on everyone. They didn't even have time to twitch, too absorbed in the performance and the attempt to figure out what was going on here and who exactly was the traitor, because everyone saw that their neighbors were pointing their weapons at them, and, of course, they themselves immediately rushed to point their weapons at them, which very quickly erased the visual difference between the suggestion and the real state of affairs.
"Uh-uh... what was that just now?" Foster expressed the general thought.
- Ah, - I waved my hand, - the local lunatics, I told you about them last time. Don't pay attention, they think they are a professional secret organization, but... - I wince, shake my head, and raise my face to the sky. - Heimdall, take us home, - so, we urgently need to see a psychiatrist, I naturally heard a sigh of relief... oh, no, it's a connection with the Destroyer. Nevertheless, the rainbow glow obediently picked us up. Great, all that's left is to make an announcement to the noble Aesir and Vanir about the appointment of a viceroy - and we can get out of here!
A few days later, Asgard.
Thor watched from the balcony of the palace with mixed feelings as the golden beam of Bifrost pierced space, carrying his brother to Midgard. Loki asked not to see him off, and the son of Odin respected his brother's wish.
Yes... Brother. Despite everything, despite all the revelations and circumstances, in the last few days Loki had proven like never before that they were brothers. Maybe not by blood, but everything else that could show their kinship was there between them. Previously, the Prince of Asgard had more than once allowed himself to openly and even publicly doubt the courage and valor of his frail younger brother. It was not out of malice... rarely was it out of malice. More often than not, Thor simply egged on the God of Deception, who had taken root in his books and workshops. He was not offended... it seemed. But he almost always agreed to go on a hike or adventure together on the streets of Asgard after that... Now the Thunderer was ashamed of those days. He had been ashamed of many things lately, but perhaps of this most of all... For his sake, Loki was not afraid to step alone onto the dark ice of Jotunhem, to go into the very lair of the ice giants and there to speak with Laufey so boldly that even the fearless Heimdallr described it with nothing less than the note "monstrous." Monstrous boldness and insolence, from which even their father's old enemy was confused and was forced to follow Loki's lead, accepting his conditions.
Quiet, fond of unnoticeable pranks, which never lead to any traces to their author, always cautious and reasonable... who could have expected that Loki was capable of such a thing? He, Thor, certainly could not. And his friends, who seemed to be the last to know about everything, had been walking around as if they had fallen into water for several days, Sif looked especially astonished, so much so that the Thunderer, during the story, was seriously afraid a couple of times that her eyes could somehow be damaged, so much so that she bulged them.
And now the man was painfully tormented by the question: was he really so fixated on his status as the Mighty Thor and the heir to the throne that he was so blind to what his brother was? And it turned out that it was. Loki always helped them out of trouble, always came to the rescue, but they never appreciated it. He did not appreciate it. How many such cases, which he considered trivial, only a drop closer to victory, in fact were much greater, without which everything could have ended very badly?
Thor never liked such gloomy thoughts. By nature, he drove them away, tried to switch, find something to do. Preferably something worthy and glorious, something that would wash away the unpleasant aftertaste from his soul. But now he did not want to switch... And glorious battles were unavailable to him in the near future, which meant that all he could do was think, as his brother had bequeathed.
Loki had told him a lot lately... No, Thor was no fool, although he admitted that he could sometimes act too hastily and frivolously... Sometimes, not even sometimes, but often... But he still knew what and how the King should do to maintain order in the Nine Worlds. Of course, the lessons sometimes made him sleepy, but his mother would never have allowed him to remain ignorant. It wasn't that he was trying to make her job easier, but in this confrontation he had no chance from the start. And he had to somehow protect himself from Loki's jokes, otherwise you wouldn't even understand when he started to mock, using seemingly understandable words, but in a completely incomprehensible sense. However, what his brother told him now was different and very serious. The mad titan Thanos, the dark elves of Malekith, the Infinity Stones, their powers and their approximate location… He wasn't joking when he spoke of a threat to the entire galaxy, and although it even sounded wild, perhaps soon the time would actually come when the Aesir and Vanir would have to fight on the same side against the frost giants, and so now Heimdall peered into the farthest and darkest corners of space, and Asgard's defense systems were being prepared for modernization for the first time in many, many centuries.
So many events, so much news and impressions... Thor sincerely felt like just a couple of weeks ago he lived in some completely different world and even was someone else himself. A strange... and very unusual feeling.
"He did leave after all…" Thor was pulled out of his thoughts by his mother's soft voice. He was so lost in himself that he didn't notice the sound of her steps or how long ago the beam of the Rainbow Bridge had disappeared from view…
"Yes," the Thunder God confirmed, turning half-way to the woman who was looking at him with motherly warmth and concern, standing just a few steps away. "But this time… this time his feat will not be erased and forgotten, like a mere trifle. This is the least I can do for him," Thor clenched his fists, looking again at the distant tip of Bifrost.
"And you won't be angry that he is the Tsar and you are the viceroy?" the Tsarina asked, a question that must have been intriguing her for a long time.
"These are just titles," the blond leaned his hands heavily on the balcony railing. "And… now he is much more worthy of being called the King of Asgard than I am. And I will need to make a lot of effort to catch up with him," saying this confession turned out to be unexpectedly difficult, but… after the necessary words escaped his lips, the Thunderer felt a strange relief. It was bitter with a feeling of shame and envy… probably not the best envy at all… but still it made his soul feel simpler and lighter. And envy… envy is good, it will help him not to forget what he should strive for.
"These days are truly worthy of our remembrance," smiled Frigga. "I have seen Loki grow and mature, and I am glad to see that my eldest boy is rapidly becoming a man. Just think, less than a year has passed, and you both have changed so much."
"I'm afraid, Mom, I'm yet to change," the blond sighed.
"Oh, son," the woman stroked his hand affectionately, giving him one of the most tender maternal smiles she could muster, "the Thor I knew a year ago would never admit this to himself, and that proves better than any words how much you've grown."
"But Loki…" the Thunderer tried, without knowing why, to object, but was stopped.
- Loki also has a long way to go to overcome his childish habits. Perhaps even longer than you have to go.
"Really?" the man was genuinely surprised.
"When I found him, he couldn't think of anything better than to scare me to the core with the announcement that he had a child," the Queen complained, conveying her entire attitude to this incredible stupidity with her facial expression. "Of course, everything came to light later, but he still doesn't know how to curb his boyish impulses and, I'm afraid, doesn't even want to try to do anything about it. The child, thirsting for attention, is still very much in him..." the woman fell silent, looking at the Golden City.
"I saw this girl, it seemed to me that she was behaving a little strangely with Loki," Thor decided to dispel the silence, in fact, he had been too absorbed in his own experiences in recent days to pay attention to his brother's guests. That is, he, of course, did not ignore such news and was surprised by his brother's willingness to allow the child to accompany him throughout the palace, but there were too many other impressions around to get too hung up on mortals with whom he had not even really communicated.
- You too... - Frigga smiled at something of her own. - I talked to her - she is a very strong girl, and they really have an unusual relationship. I don't know how it happened, but Loki values her. You know... - Asinya raised a laughing look at him, - he really listens to her opinion.
"Oh…" Thor couldn't find what to say to that.
"And since we're talking about guests," the Queen continued, gently but firmly hinting in her voice that she was very interested in the next topic, "won't you tell me about yours? Especially about Lady Jane, whom my second son for some reason stubbornly calls Padme, which baffles me considerably. After all, we still haven't talked about your life in Midgard since your return."
- But I don't know why he calls her that!
"Tell me everything," smiled Asinya. "And we'll try to think about this riddle together."
In response, Thor sighed heavily... mentally, because he didn't want to offend his mother. Whatever Loki said, he was no fool and understood that a conversation on the topic of "telling his mother about the pretty young lady his son brought home" could drag on for a long time. And although the Thunderer had nothing to be ashamed of - he hadn't done anything unworthy towards Jane and her friends, there was still something awkward about it, which made the not-so-timid man in Asgard feel uncomfortable. And he still had to deal with the clues his brother had left in the Throne...
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