The Ragnarok Trials

Day Nine: I'm So Sick

Day Nine
         I'm So Sick
Focus Word: Sick
Word Count: 1743

The party was in full damn swing by the time I got there.

I couldn't see Gabriel at all, but then I hadn't expected to. What amused me was that I couldn't even sense him. Sneaking was a kind of lying, and so I should have been able to tell he was there, but the Angel was completely invisible to me. Even in human form, without access to the majority of his divine power, Gabriel could outstrip all of us.

It was a sobering thought.

Thor was at the door when I walked in, huge and hulking in a siarc and breecs. He frowned at me as I slipped into the long room of Odin's hall, eyes running up and down in disapproval. "You are not dressed as one of us, brother."

"I am not one of you, remember? I am only an adopted Aesir, and a cast-off adoptee at that. So I wear what I want." I grinned, showing off all my teeth in as threatening a manner as I could muster without being overt about it. Thor is much, much stronger than I, and my need to be an ass does not overshadow my self-preservation instinct. Actually, now that I think about it, there's nothing on this planet that can overshadow my self-preservation instinct. Except maybe my need to be chaotic. And now that I'm all fleshy, chaos is a lot easier to control.

The thunderer shrugged. "This is true enough, I suppose. Yes, it is best that you remain apart. You are not as one of us. The Allfather believes you are innocent of my brother's death. If he did not, you would not be here."

"Yeah, you're right. I'd be dead." I clapped Thor on the back. "How are you doing, Thor? Seen Hod around?"

Thor gestured to the far side of the room, to the largest of the fires burning throughout the hall. Sitting beside it, his blind eyes turned toward the heat of the flame, was the man who'd killed Baldur the first time. I mean, of course, the man who'd shot the arrow, as everyone blamed me for the incident. "He is expecting you, Loki," Thor whispered. "Since Baldur was murdered, he has assumed you would come to accuse him."

I raised an eyebrow. "I am not here to accuse him, Thor. No one who knows him could think he is guilty of murder. I am here to talk to him because I trust him more than I trust anyone else in this building. We are not known for honesty, and the only one with a habit of always telling the truth is over there on a slab, where he'll remain until we set fire to him."

"You are, of course, one to talk, Loki. You are the most dishonest one of all." Thor's mouth quirked in a smile, and I was momentarily reminded of the adventures we shared. I was the brains, he the muscle behind a great deal of events in our time. Hell, I'd gotten the man to wear a wedding dress and pretend to be Freya in order to retrieve his stolen Mjollnir. There's nothing quite like a giant of a man in full on wedding gear, especially when it's meant for a female. We had been friends, once. "Eat and drink well, Lie-smith, and celebrate my brother. He won't be coming back this time."

The thunder god turned away then, and trundled off to where Heimdall stood, resplendent in green armor this day, rainbow sword glowing from within as much as from the flickering light of the fires. I sauntered away before Heimdall could turn his attention to me, and crossed the room, ignoring the stares and the curt nods from my fellows. It was not comfortable here, in this place, surrounded by people whose belief in my innocence stemmed only from their fear and respect for the Allfather. I could feel weaponry shifting, power rising, all malevolent and all directed at me. I found myself hoping that Gabriel was still there, watching out for me, in case someone decided to come charging with a weapon.

I didn't want to shoot anyone in here. That would end badly.

Hod made no move as I approached, but I knew he was aware of me. "I'm sorry about Baldur, Hod."

The blind god smiled sadly, not looking away from the fire raging in front of him. He had a glass of mead in his hand--traditional, was our Hod--but it looked as though he hadn't even made a move to drink it. That was curious. Mead was the traditional drink of mourning. Hell, it was the traditional drink of all major events in our culture. It sealed deals, closed bargains, evoked all of the most serious feelings we Norse are capable of feeling. Mead was not to be imbibed lightly, lest one invoke bindings one would rather not break.

I hate the stuff. And not just because I don't much care for constancy. Really, it tastes like piss.

"He shan't be returning this time, Loki, even without your machinations. Ah, well, his return would mean so many of our deaths. I admit, Lie-smith, that I am not terribly saddened that he shan't be returning. I quite like living. And yet...he was my brother. Surely, I should feel sick at his ultimate demise. Instead, though I mourn his loss, I am...angry."

I have to admit, I was not shocked by Hod's reply. This is what I was hoping for, actually. "Why are you angry, Hod?"

"His death. It was stupid, Loki." Hod sighed, leaning back in his chair. I could see, then, that he was not dressed as his compatriots were, in traditional garb. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, nothing but a black band around his upper arm to signify his mourning. "You probably know why he died already. You are smarter than the rest of us..."

I sat down next to him. "Do not flatter me, Hod. Spit it out. Why is Baldur's death stupid?"

"Because it could have been avoided, if not for our hubris." Hod downed the mead in a single gulp. I winced in sympathy--the stuff was sour, but not near enough sweet to balance it out, and just enough burn to make it hurt--and waited for him to be ready. "You probably already know about the plot around here to bring ourselves back into power."

"I do."

"Then you know that it wasn't a very popular initiative. A lot of people remember that we'd all be gone--not dead, but gone--without Christ's forbearance, and do not want to lose it. Those of us who want to stay alive are not happy with their stupidity..."

I nodded. "Who, exactly, is behind this new uprising movement?"

Hod chuckled. "The usual suspects, Loki. Minus you, of course. Thor, Freya, Sif, Baldur himself...even Heimdall, against Odin's wishes. He's not been right recently, I don't think. Blindness is harder for him than it is for some of us. He wants his sight back. Baldur grew tired of having his...well, not thunder...but his influence stolen by Christ. He felt cheated, as if the Messiah had stolen his future from him. It had made him...less than scrupulous of late. And very unpopular."

Pursing my lips, I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms. "And who's in charge of the opposition."

Hod turned away from the fire and looked at me. He has always had an uncanny way of seeing without sight. "The Greeks, mostly, though some of the Egyptians have managed to stir themselves. A lot of people disagree with us, but that doesn't mean all of them are willing to engage in violence to display their feelings. I admit, I was shocked that the Greeks and not the Celts were behind these fights. But, then, the Greeks are the only ones smart enough to get it done without attracting your masters."

We sat in silence for a moment, then, each of us digesting the information Hod had just revealed to me. "I feel as thought I am so very sick here, Loki. As though I am infected by where I live, guilty by association with these hapless morons. Let me live without this guilt, brother. Solve this. Figure it out and bring the Angels in to fix it...before it becomes a war. I like existing, and I am not ready to cease doing it as yet."

"Hod, my friend, I will solve this thing. Your information has proved invaluable to me. I figured Baldur was taken down over this recent...business, but I really had no idea who was behind it. Thank you very much, Hod." I stood and placed my hand on his shoulder. "You do not need to feel guilty because your fellows are stupid. Let me tell you something about my employers: they are not terribly vengeful, especially when innocents are involved. I do not believe they would destroy all of us simply because of a few bad seeds."

"You have that much faith in them, Loki? I did not know you capable of faith."

"I am capable of a great many things, my friend. But, yes, I do trust them. They're better people than we are, and far less likely to allow capricious whims to color their actions." Sighing, I eyed the room, and found that Heimdall's eyes were on Hod and I. It was disconcerting, knowing the Watcher had turned his attentions to my actions, but the jolt of worry was mitigated somewhat by the knowledge that he was all but blind. He would know something of what Hod and I had discussed--he was a member of the cabal in question, after all--but he would have no idea of what exactly had been said.

He was still creepy, though.

"So, you will go and see the Greeks, Loki? Figure out who killed Baldur?" Hod had stood himself, and stood next to me, empty glass still in his hand. "If, indeed, it was the Greeks."

"Of course. But first, I've got free food and ale flowing in front of me. I mean to partake. And, you know, I thought I'd say good-bye to Baldur. He was a bit of a shit, but he was a good guy, and definitely didn't deserve what happened to him. Plus, he was one of us. And we are most definitely not supposed to die; at least until we meet our end in battle, of course."