Saturday, June 28, 2014

Loki Steals From Ratatoskr (fiction based on two UPG's, written for a university class)

“Pour me a shot of whiskey,” the red bearded stranger says, “and I'll indulge your longing for a story.”
    I oblige, and he takes a sip. “So this is that new honey whiskey, eh? It's like mead, but stronger. I like it!” he says, before tossing it back.
    Recaling himself, he clears his throat.
    “Such good spirits indeed deserve a tale. Let me see...”


===<>===

    Once upon a time, some dwarves had wandered to Jotunheim, in search of rare materials. While Svartalfheim has metals aplenty, there are rare stones they can't always obtain – such as a crystalline obsidian, which shows an entire rainbow of colors, only darker, as deep as night itself, the darkest shades still perceptible as “true” reflecting in its depths. These they would polish and use in the hilts of swords, or fine diadems, and their magic was great, especially in the hands of a shapeshifter.

    However the treasure they were after was not the only one they possessed. On their journeys they had also visited Alfheim to trade for gold. Already they had shaped this lovely treasure into a new form – that of three delicate golden acorns.

    Loki, noticing the dwarves so far from home, and observing the way they were trying to keep the evidence of their visit to a minimum, realized they must be mining in secret.
    “Well how lovely! I wonder what else they may be hoarding, and if the other Aesir would reward me for... delivering it.”

    Hidden behind some trees, Loki turned inward, and slowly turned himself into a rabbit. He hopped over, looking as simple and boring as he possibly could, trying to pass for being part of the scenery, and no more. He slowly hopped towards the supply pack of one of the dwarves, and pawed the acorns out of it. He dug a small hole and buried them, hiding the treasures until they went to sleep.

    None of this was noticed by the dwarves.

    Loki, still congratulating himself on his theft, and sure that this would put him back into the Aesir's good graces after that incident with Sif, walked into Odin's council chambers. Before he could even speak, Huginn few off of Odin's shoulder, snatched the string of the bag, and delivered it to Odin's waiting palm.

    “What is this?” growled Odin. “What have you done?”

    “... I thought I was giving you a gift, but now I am not so sure.”

    Odin pinched the bridge of his nose, desperate to calm himself before he lashed out at his blood brother needlessly. His fury still seeped into his voice, edging it with a hard grit.

    “Well, Loki, next time you steal a gift, make certain it was not one I gave. The gold for these trinkets came from Alfheim. The dwarves you stole them from owed Ratatoskr quite a large debt, and were given the gold to pay it back as a payment from me, in return for making a few items at my request. Gold of that purity was not cheap, Loki. That offering was to buy the silence of that nattering squirrel!”

    Odin sighed and sat down, but when he looked up, any sign of weariness was replaced by a look of steel. “Muninn?”

    Memory took flight, fetched a scroll, and delivered it to the All-Father. He picked up a quill, dipped it in ink, and handed the scroll to Loki.



Odin fixed his eye upon Loki - "Take the acorns wherever the dwarves stayed before you found them. Unfortunately for you, I believe they were staying as guests of Frey, so you'll be sneaking into the home of another god, not an elf. But then," Odin paused to make his point, "If you had any qualms with sneaking into any of our homes, my daughter in law would have a slightly different hair color right now, hmm?"

Loki winced. Of course Odin had guessed what he had intended to do. Unfortunately, this also meant he had reinforced the memory!

Odin had already moved on, however. "Take this scroll. Disguise yourself as a messenger - they might guess the truth if they know it's you. Deliver it to them after you have hidden the offering at Freyssalr."

So Loki left. First, he carefully placed the golden acorns on a window sill. (He knew, from having stayed there when Frey's father married Skadi, that this was the window nearest to where the guests slept.) Then, as he had done so many times before, he turned himself into the tiniest of flies, and found a way in through the roof joinings. Carefully, quietly, he opened the other side of the window, and reached along the sill for the once prized treasure, which had become his burden.

He dropped the acorns near where the dwarves had slept, in a casual way. They were just out of sight, but still seemed to have been accidentally kicked there while packing.

"Well, that went smoothly." Loki thought to himself, re-latching the window and sneaking back out into the crisp pre-dawn light.

He turned from Freyssalr, and set off for the dwarves, careful to disguise himself before setting foot in Svartlheim.

By now, the dwarves had returned, and Loki could feel the forge's heat leaking under the door as he knocked.

A dropped "clang" sound and some angry words echoed from within, but whoever he had startled was not who came to the door - or so Loki judged from the speed with which it opened.

"A message," Loki's voice squeaked out, sounding like a nervous young boy. "From the All-Father himself!"

The dwarf skeptically eyed the boy before him, dressed in rags and freckled. "And what was one like you doing in Asgard?"

"I, um, work as a stable hand," Loki replied, wincing at the thought of his son and hoping it wouldn't give him away.

"I thought the horses were under Gna's care?"

"The goddess of horses?" Loki's eyes grew wide, and his voice squeaked again. "The messenger goddess?"

"Aye, the same. Or that mortal kin of Odin's - Hermod."

"The hero? But he died! His duties are in Valhalla now."

"And Gna?"

Loki thought quickly. "She's there, sometimes, but the All-Mother has need of her often these days. Someone has to groom Sleipnir when she is busy, or feed and re-shoe Hofvarpnir when she is busy or tired."

The dwarf seemed to accept this answer and stepped back, allowing Loki to enter.

"It isn't often we get two messengers from the gods in one day. Considering the other just left, we thought you might be an imposter, or a thief!"

Loki gulped nervously.

"Don't worry so much boy! We know yer okay now, and the harm's been done anyway. Ái was forgetful again and we mistook his lapse for a theft."


The dwarf moved back to a table, and filled a horn with mead.

“Well? Don't just stand there gaping! Rest yer feet, have some mead, and let's have a look at that message.”

Loki handed the scroll over and sat down to his mead. The dwarves' eyes skimmed over the paper.

“I see. So he heard from the Jotnar, and knows the squirrel squeaked about what we were up to. Only wants the diadem now, eh? Well, that tracks. We can return the stones for the armband to the Jotnar. That should stop their grumbling – they need never know how many we actually mined.”

His eyes flicked up to Loki's.
“You'll rest here and eat with us, but in the morning, you'll have to make yet another journey, to Jotunheim.”

“At last,” thought Loki. “Home.” He almost wanted to make up some excuse about Odin having requested his return as soon as possible, so he had better leave immediately and rest there, in order to return to the All-Father in fewer days.

But then he remembered.

Angrboda.

Was she the one who had demanded the gems back? Of course it was her. It wouldn't be the ruler of Utgard – the place where the dwarves had been mining was out of his domain. He gritted his teeth that Odin had neglected to share that... detail.

Now he dreaded his return home, and thought better of staying the night with the dwarves.
He needed time to plan.
What was he going to say?
He never could fool Angrboda.
… or could he?

The next day, he set off again. This time, however, he made certain that he simply looked like himself before he set foot in Jotunheim.

The road, by now, was all too familiar – the path home, indeed. Before him, eventually, was that hall of old wood, etched in runes and knotwork, obscured by antlers and polished bones, like ivory, above the door. The home of the Wolf Mother.

He entered, and a shard of pottery exploded above his head.

“You missed.” he said, fixing his once-paramour's gaze with his own.

“No. I didn't. Get out!”

“Shh. No, I'm here to make amends.”

“How could you? What amends could you possibly make?” the giantess lowered her voice to a growl, and approached. “You let them take our son,” she pinned him to the wall, “ and then, you go and marry that Vanir bitch!”

“I care, though. Look, I heard you were angry about some dwarfs stealing from the land, so... I used my position among the Aesir, and took care of it.”

“Took care of it how?” Angrboda growled out.

“Look!” he put up his hands to get space from her, and pulled out a neck purse with a handful of polished, medium sized stones.

Mesmerized, Angrboda took one of the rainbow obsidian stones from his hand.

“Loki...”

Blinking and recovering herself. “Well. Good. They're not still in the ground where they can resonate with the local magic, but at least they have been returned home. You've been useful. Thank you.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “So no more throwing things, ok?”

Angrboda sighed. “You may return to the Ironwood in peace, and leave in peace. I just... don't want to see you, for awhile, ok?”

Loki sighed, for part of him did miss her. “I understand.”

He turned, and, for the first time in many long years, went to his childhood home to rest his head.

===<>===

“Of course,” the red bearded stranger smiled, “It wasn't long after that when I saw him myself, and let him in on the joke. The only thing he ultimately changed was that the arm band was never made. Odin had ordered two pieces for close loved ones, you see. One for his wife, and one... for his blood brother. In the end, for once, Loki stole from himself!”

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