Surrender, Chapter 3: Back in Asgard

Loki glanced around his room. All was as he had left it. Time passed differently between realms; perhaps an hour had elapsed in Asgard even though he'd spent close to twelve hours in Alfheim. Now it was time to test the “gift” he’d received in the grove.

He strode through the palace, staff in hand, searching for a test subject. As he passed the kitchens, several servants near its doorway paused in their duties to bow their heads to him respectfully with a humble, "My lord, Loki." Loki paused as well. He peered deeper into the kitchens with a growing frown on his face.

A man who had just retrieved a cask of wine from the cellar below asked him, "Are you hungry, my lord?"

"You might say that," Loki replied casually, his attention fixed on the busy room before him. He entered the kitchen to get a more accurate assessment of the long room. About 12 paces wide, 40 paces long...and 53 people, waiting like sheep. "But to be honest I'm more interested in the present work ethic..."

The manservant quickly bowed deeply, "What may we improve that would satisfy you, my lord?" Loki felt the man's nervousness and ignored the urge to laugh. I know just what they need.

"My, but it does look dreadfully boring down here. You are all so serious--so meek, mild, and mundane." Loki smiled at the servant, but the poor man was dumbfounded having no context for where Loki was going with his assessment. The servants ignored Loki’s speech and kept their attention on their work. "Live a little!" He gestured with the staff in a long arc in front of him that took in the entire room. Every cook, maid, and serving man ceased their duties, dropping their hands to their waists and staring blankly forward. Loki grinned in anticipation.

He gestured again with the same motion, and several of the servants began to clear a space in the center of the kitchen by moving tables, chairs, and racks to the sides of the room. Once a space large enough for a hall had been cleared, all the servants took places in the center of the room. They formed two lines facing one another. Loki looked them over thoughtfully.

"Well, go on. Have a ball!" Loki gestured a third time, but this time the staff seemed to shiver in his hands with excitement. L'Shale was stirring, it seemed. The servants bowed to one another and extended their hands to begin dancing. They circled one another and exchanged partners as they began to move about the room in imitation of a feast day dance.

The servants sang, laughed, and clapped as if they were lords and ladies of the palace. Yet if anyone were to glimpse the kitchen now they would think the servants had gone mad. The music and merriment was in their heads—an illusion that swallowed them all. Loki smirked in satisfaction as he watched them dance for a time. L'Shale quivered warmly in his grip—stretching after a long sleep—as if he wanted to leap in and join the festivities himself.

Loki was intrigued by L’Shale’s stirrings. It was truly tempting to feel the power of a rogue nature spirit—a power so great it was quelled only by the realm’s god. "Not so fast," Loki gripped the staff tighter and forced his own will upon L’Shale to subdue it—keep it caged. "I'm the one holding the staff if you hadn't noticed." L'Shale pushed back with a mental force that Loki had not anticipated, but was still controllable. Loki waved the staff with a quick snap this time, "I guess I'd better set them right or we'll all starve."

The servants halted mid-step and gave one another bewildered looks. The serving man who had spoken to Loki before ended up back in the same spot. He looked quite shaken after the brief jaunt. "What's going on? You were speaking one moment then I— I'm not sure what—" The man remembered his place, then bowed deeply, "Forgive me, my lord, but—"

"What are you all doing just standing about?" Loki scolded everyone in the kitchen quite loudly. "Get back to work! You have a palace to feed!" The servants resumed their hustle and bustle, first replacing the tables and equipment to their normal spots. They kept their heads down and mouths shut, just as servants should. There wouldn't be as much as a whisper spoken among them about what happened. Discussing such nonsense was unheard of especially when it included a member of the royal family.

He gave an angry scowl to a serving maid near the door for good measure. She yelped, nearly dropping the set of empty bowls she carried. He left the kitchens swiftly, but slowed after a few paces down the hall. He glanced behind himself, saw that he was alone, and burst out laughing.

*********

Elsewhere in the palace events ran smoothly. Servants completed their duties, warriors sparred and practiced, and King Odin paced about the balcony adjacent to his throne room. Since Loki's return a month ago he'd spent most of his afternoons there awaiting any who came seeking his audience. He also used the time to devise proper guidance for his troubled son. Disputes between Asgardians were rare, and complaints were non-existent, but as king he wanted to make himself available if his counsel was needed. In the past most dilemmas arose within the palace itself, usually involving his sons Thor and Loki in one way or another. Even more common were the conflicts between the two brothers. They might think Odin knew little of the tensions between them, but in their hearts they were aware that their father understood more than he would explain. It was a king's job to know his subjects, and Odin All-father was not just a king, he was also a god.

Diplomacy and defense were the trademarks of Odin's rule. It was a combination that frequently allowed his sons to rush headlong into predicaments he often pulled them out of by the scruff of their disobedient necks. Yet he was a forgiving father, and he accepted that his young sons must learn and gain wisdom through their own actions and decisions. It was the best way to prepare a boy for his future as king.

As for his sons' latest escapade, Thor brought Loki back to Asgard a month past, muzzled and chained with cold rage in his blue eyes—but there was a weariness, too. Loki's failed subjugation of Midgard had left Odin, for the first time in his life, at a loss for what to do with Loki. He did not want to exile him to Midgard as he had done to Thor previously. He wanted to keep a close eye on his devious son for he was in need of guidance, not punishment. He'd declared that Loki would stay in Asgard to be reformed. But even for all his good intentions, Odin feared Loki would not change.

Loki had been withdrawn and pensive since returning to Asgard as if he was trying to pull himself back together. Odin knew Loki would be a ticking time bomb if he still held the same contempt before his prolonged disappearance, but his son had changed. His face was harder, and his attention was more distant, but he also seemed more brittle—ready to snap like a hot blade cooled too quickly. Yet Loki slid easily back into the cold exterior Odin had so often seen on his troubled son. Loki spent most of his time in the library now and preferred to be alone except when Odin summoned him to talk. When asked Loki would reveal few details of his time away from Asgard, except what was known from his failed takeover in Midgard. Odin managed to glean that Loki spent an unknown amount of time in the void between realms—a place which had existed only in a faint memory until now. Remembering his experience drifting in the void seemed to bother Loki and had left an "incomprehensible scar" upon his psyche—or so he said. Loki played his own games, kept many secrets, and trusted no one.

Odin halted his pacing when he sensed that Loki had re-entered Asgard. He'd not realized his son was gone until he'd felt his return. Odin spoke to himself, "Loki. What is that boy up to now?" Odin's attention fell upon Heimdall guarding his post at the now broken, jagged-edged Rainbow Bridge across the city. He sensed no new information from Heimdall—he had not been aware that Loki had been away from Asgard either—which meant that Loki must have traveled between realms on his own and shielded himself from being seen. A close eye indeed.

This new development gave Odin mixed feelings. He was affronted that Loki would travel freely when he had been sent back to Asgard to be watched closely. Yet a small measure of bittersweet pride welled in him at the same time. Such are the feelings of a father eager to see his child grow, even if it is in a misguided direction. Why would he let me know he’s back if he didn’t want me to know he’d left? Odin sensed events that might come to pass, and knew that Loki must come to him. "So, he will seek me out. Then let us see which actions he would choose." But this is Loki, and I must be prepared to stop him if he will not heed my guidance. Such are a father's thoughts when he knows the heart of his son.