Fic: A Traitor in the House of Odin (2/14)

[bookishwench]

Meanwhile, the Bifrost deposited an unphased Thor and Loki and a decidedly wobbly Peter on Asgard. A very tall man who Peter recognized from Thor and Loki’s description as Heimdall towered over him, his expression unreadable.

“Welcome to the Realm Eternal, young Peter,” Heimdall said, his golden eyes boring into him.

“Realm Eternal? Wait, did I just die?” Peter asked, turning from green to white. “I don’t want to be dead. May’ll kill me.”

“Fear not, young Peter. It is just a name,” Thor said, slapping him heartily on the back. “You yet live to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies!”

Peter took a few steps forward, then suddenly threw up.

“Brother, I fear our guest shares your tendency towards motion sickness,” Thor said, hiding a grin.

“No, no, really, I’m okay,” Peter said, deeply embarrassed. “I’m sorry about the mess, Mr. Heimdall, sir. I can clean it up. Do you have a mop or something?”

“There is no need to apologize,” Heimdall said, and a slight crinkling around his eyes might have suggested the possibility of a smile. “I have seen far worse entrances to Asgard. Go forth with the princes. It shall be taken care of.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, shifting his duffle bag to his shoulder again as he followed Thor and Loki towards the rainbow bridge. “Nice to meet you!”

“The pleasure was mine,” Heimdall said, his tone as golden as his gaze, which he turned once again onto the universe.

“Wow,” Peter said, taking in the vista of the city’s skyline as they began walking over the long bridge. “This is really, really pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Loki said, smiling in satisfaction. “We almost never get the opportunity to show it off to mortals. It gives one a fresh perspective on the familiar.”

“I mean, this road alone totally buries the one in Mario Kart,” Peter said.

“I have played that!” Thor said, beaming. “The Barton children showed it to me before we left on Christmas! It is indeed but a pale imitation of the real thing, though one cannot blame Midgardians for their lack of understanding in such a matter.”

“Right,” Peter said, then seemed to be considering something. “Wait… you guys don’t get dead pets up here, do you?”

“That would be an entirely different rainbow bridge,” Loki said, stifling a laugh, “though as you already know, I am quite fond of pets. I shall introduce you to my horse while you are here.”

“What’s his name?”

“Her name is Vicious,” Loki said.

“You ride a girl horse?” he asked, a little surprised.

“A mare, yes, and she lives up to her name admirably,” Loki said with a grin. “There is no fiercer beast in Asgard, nor one with greater spirit, save perhaps Sleipnir.”

“Okay, sounds fun,” Peter said, looking a little nervous at the prospect of meeting her.

“But first, we shall settle you into your rooms,” Thor said. “You will be staying in the palace itself, not far from my brother and me. I believe you will be very comfortable.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Peter said. “I slept pretty well at Clint and Laura’s place literally just stuck in a corner.”

“As generous as their spirit of hospitality was,” Loki said, “I believe we can manage something a bit more comfortable than sticking yourself to a wall in a random corner.”

“At least there weren’t any Legos up there,” Thor grumbled to himself quietly while flexing his back muscles in remembered agony.

By now, the three of them had finished crossing the rainbow bridge and were entering the town. Obviously, everyone knew the two princes on sight, but Peter was an oddity. Odin’s decree that mortals were forbidden in Asgard meant most of the citizens had never laid eyes on a Midgardian before, and more than a few whispers and craned necks met their arrival. Not all of them seemed happy with his arrival, either. With the unfriendly glares being shot in his direction, Peter was starting to feel a little like a bug under a magnifying glass, and not even a spider at that. More like a cockroach.

“You will be more than a nine days’ wonder, I should think,” Loki said, but his face looked stormy at the citizens’ ill-disguised disdain. “Ignore them, Peter. They simply want to gossip, which is the true Asgardian pastime.”

“I rather prefer feasting and a good fight myself,” Thor said.

“Yes, well, everyone has their virtues,” Loki said, then shifted his gaze to Peter and added, “but knowing an enemy’s vices is often a useful tool.”

Peter nodded seriously, but he couldn’t help glancing around at the people, dressed in clothing that looked both ancient and futuristic, gleaming in vividly colored fabrics that he knew had nothing similar on Earth. He was beginning to feel a heavy dose of culture shock as he watched a horse trotting down the street, pulling a cart that appeared to be filled with bright red pumpkins, while in the sky a spaceship that was lightyears beyond anything Earth could produce hovered over his head before taking off with a rush of power. He didn’t know whether to expect King Arthur or Captain Kirk to be around the next corner.

The smell of the city was one thing that was oddly comforting, though. The bakeries wafted the familiar scent of fresh bread, even if the loaves in the windows looked different, and pubs and eating houses were packed with people dining on food he’d never seen before but that smelled so good it set Peter’s stomach rumbling. Thor heard it and laughed.

“Sorry,” Peter said awkwardly.

“Do not be!” he said. “I am pleased your bout of sickness has passed. That is well as our mother has planned a feast in your honor this evening.”

“Me?” Peter said. “But… I’m going to screw up! Is there like court rules or stuff I’m not supposed to do or can I accidentally start a war by using the wrong fork or something?”

Loki tipped his head, pondering, then said, “No, but you might end up offending the court if you fold your napkin improperly.”

“Oh, geez!” Peter said in panic before Loki started laughing.

“I’m joking, lad,” he said. “No, you are in no peril of causing an intergalactic incident over a breach of manners. All will be well. We simply wish you to enjoy the evening.”

Peter managed to give a weak smile and continued walking down the road, still looking nervous. By the time they reached the palace, which was even larger than Peter had thought it was, he was beginning to sweat. The Einherjar warrior at the gate bowed to the princes with military precision, but he regarded Peter warily as he entered.

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Loki said as they walked through a vast hall. “Do they think the boy is planning to usurp the throne in Father’s absence? Or perhaps they’re convinced he’s hiding a dragon in his luggage?”

“To be fair, that does sound like something you would do to amuse yourself, brother,” Thor said.

Loki considered for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Actually, I probably would. I may have to try that someday.”

Peter followed the pair of them through a door wide enough for six people to walk beside one another and tall enough for the Hulk to go through without ducking. The palace itself seemed like a blur of white, gold, and red, with velvet draperies hanging from forty feet in the air and pillars so enormous he felt like he was wandering through a forest of redwoods. It was beautiful, but overwhelming.

“Peter,” Loki said, smirking, “blink. Your eyes must be drying out.”

“Huh? Oh, right, sorry,” Peter said, grinning sheepishly as they went up a broad, sweeping staircase and down innumerable hallways, each more luxurious than the last, until they finally stopped in front of a door that looked like it cost more than the rent for May’s apartment for a whole year.

“This will be your home for the next few days,” Thor said.

The door glided open on silent hinges, and for a second Peter thought it had to be some kind of joke.

“Really?” he squeaked out. “I’m sleeping here?”

If Tony’s penthouse had the sleek, modern sophistication of an abstract art museum, this was more like being transported directly to a royal chamber straight out of a fairy tale. A broad window dominated one wall, showcasing the rooftops of the city and, in the distance, the great sea that toppled over a cliff and into space itself. Framing it were curtains of gold cloth, resting against walls covered in what looked like tooled leather in a deep crimson. Bookcases were scattered around the room, filled with tomes of all sizes and colors, and tables and chairs were strategically placed for reading or grouped for conversations with visitors. An enormous fireplace took up one entire side of the room, large enough to burn a whole good-sized tree trunk in, and there was one currently blazing and popping away, its light casting dancing shadows on the ornately patterned plasterwork of the ceiling. The most enormous bed Peter had ever seen stood in the exact center of the room. He half expected to find Sleeping Beauty napping on the quilt of red and gold velvet squares that covered it. It was so high that Peter thought he might need to shoot a web into the golden-draped canopy and swing himself onto the mattress, which he assumed was somewhere beneath the vast collection of pillows.

“Is it to your satisfaction?” Thor asked, looking concerned.

“I told you we should have had him stay in the Emerald Suite,” Loki muttered. “This whole room looks like it’s on fire. Too much red.”

“I like the Garnet Room!” Thor said defensively. “It’s warm and friendly.”

“No, no, really, this is great,” Peter said quickly. “It’s just a little… like sleeping in Versailles. Cool, but kind of, you know, big at first glance.”

He set down his bag, which looked shoddy in the rich surroundings, and immediately felt awkward again.

“We’ll leave you to unpack and recover from the Bifrost for a bit,” Thor said, slapping him on the shoulder and almost accidentally conking Peter’s head into one of the bedposts, which he didn’t seem to notice, though Loki rolled his eyes. “We shall return in an hour or so.”

“Okay,” Peter said, waving at the pair of them as they shut the door on their way out. Once they were out of sight, he attempted collapsing on the bed, but it was so high that he only face planted into the side of the mattress.

Not long after, Peter put his clothes into one of the chests of drawers. Ned had insisted he needed to bring snacks just in case he couldn’t eat “space food,” so about half a dozen chocolate bars, some bags of chips and nachos, and a couple sticks of beef jerky from the corner bodega were tucked under his clothes. After he finished arranging everything, he stared into the gold-lined interior of the drawer at his aggressively ordinary underwear and socks.

“I am so, so out of my depth,” he mumbled as he shut it. “Yup, really.”

He quickly changed into the clothes he had brought just in case he needed anything more than casual clothes. It was just a simple pair of pants and a dress shirt, but even if he’d brought the tuxedo he’d worn to Homecoming he knew he wouldn’t look anywhere near as fancy as everybody else. He shrugged. What else could he do? The pull of sleep was starting to become a little too tempting, so, exhausted, he slumped into a chair by the fire, hoped his clothes wouldn’t wrinkle too much, and nodded off.