Fic: A Traitor in the House of Odin (6/14)
May. 7th, 2024 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bookishwenchAnd we're now back up to date.
Breakfast in the gardens was delightful, even with the shadow of the attempt to sabotage Peter’s reputation hanging over them. Peter couldn’t pronounce anything he was eating, but everything was delicious. As the four of them ate at a little table underneath a tree that was covered in pale yellow flowers, Frigga told them the horses were now well again. Peter sighed in relief.
“I’m really happy to hear that. I was worried about them,” Peter said.
“And I’m worried about you,” Thor said, looking concerned. “Mother, someone attempted putting false evidence of Peter being a thief in his baggage last night.”
Frigga looked startled as her sons informed her of the latest problem. By the time they were through, she was appalled.
“Peter, I am dreadfully sorry for how you are being treated. When this visit was arranged, it was our intention to give you a rare treat, and instead your honor is being dragged through the mud by some unknown enemy.”
“That’s just it, Mother,” Thor said. “No one here knows the boy. They barely know of the existence of Spider-Man. Why would someone go through all this difficulty just to humiliate a random guest?”
“They wouldn’t,” Frigga said. “Something is amiss here. Peter, I apologize for putting boundaries around your visit, but I would be easier in my mind if you would stay within the walls of the palace at least for this morning. I have my own skills and sources, and I intend to use them. By luncheon, I expect to know more.”
“That’s okay,” Peter said. “I wanted to look over the rest of the palace anyway. It’s really beautiful.”
“Perhaps you would enjoy the library,” Loki said, brightening.
“The library?” Thor said, sounding as though Loki had suggested dining on soggy tennis shoes for lunch. “Surely there must be something more light-hearted—”
“No, no, really! I’d love to see it!” Peter said, beaming so happily that it was obvious he was sincere.
“Fine!” Loki said, grinning back. “No time like the present.”
“Yes, well, I wish to check on the stables again, just to be certain everything is as it should be,” Thor said, then bowed to his mother and headed away at a jog.
Frigga looked after him and sighed.
“At least one of my sons enjoys books as much as I do,” she said. “I believe I will join you.”
The three of them rose from the table and walked back into the palace, down three corridors, and up a flight of stairs until they came to—
“Wow,” Peter whispered as the doors opened. “This is incredible! And also, weirdly familiar?”
Loki chuckled.
“Yes, well, I suppose it would. Not too many mortal years ago, I left a sketch of this place at a certain animation studio, and not long after…”
“It’s the Beast’s library from Beauty and the Beast!” Peter crowed. “Only bigger!”
“Exactly,” Loki said.
Peter stared at the twin spiral staircases and the towering bookshelves with his mouth hanging open. Frigga laughed, then put her finger under his chin and closed it for him.
“Sorry,” he said. “Little stunned. Are any of them in English?”
“A few,” Loki said, “but that doesn’t matter. There’s a spell on them to make them appear in the native tongue of the reader. Feel free to explore any of them. This section is galactic history, folktales of the Nine Realms are by the fireplace, and a few general tomes on magic are over by the window. I keep most of my own spellbooks, grimoires, and reference volumes in my rooms. These tend more toward the beginner level, but they’re still interesting enough.”
“Really?” Peter asked. “I can look at anything I want?”
“Really,” Frigga said, smiling. “It is my command that you enjoy yourself!”
Peter looked downright giddy as he literally ran towards the spellbooks, missing the amused look that passed between Frigga and Loki.
“If anything ever happens to his aunt, Norns forbid, I am adopting that child,” Frigga said to Loki quietly.
“Apparently, there will be a line,” Loki said, chuckling.
Frigga patted his arm affectionately before leaving the library to begin research of her own.
Peter spent the next three hours switching between curling up in a chair by the fireplace with a stack of books and browsing the shelves with Loki at his elbow, giving commentary on which ones he might enjoy. For his part, Loki wandered over to a shelf of books on weaponry and opened the heavily illustrated volume on a table, pouring over the examples of daggers from planets Peter had never heard of.
At length, Peter stretched and walked over to the window, his eyes getting tired from reading the ornate penmanship in the hand-lettered books.
“Would you care for a game of Hnefatafl?” Loki suggested, leaving his own book on the table. “I have a board in my sitting room, and we could have tea sent up, if you wish.”
“Sure,” Peter said. “I don’t know how to play it, though. Or, like, even say it.”
“Neither does anyone else on your planet,” Loki said. “It’s a bit like chess. The Vikings enjoyed it when my father showed it to them, but Midgard lost the rules over time. I’ve always quite liked it.”
“I like chess,” Peter said. “Should I just leave these here?”
“Yes, the librarian will be thrilled to have something to tidy up, poor lamb. She doesn’t often get much business other than Mother and me,” Loki said.
“That’s a downright shame,” Peter said, staring up at the thousands of books as they left.
Loki’s rooms weren’t far from the library, something Peter suspected was no accident, and in only a few minutes the pair of them were sipping whatever passed for tea on Asgard (something that tasted vaguely like mint and lemon but was a soft shade of purple) and playing the board game. Peter picked up the rules quickly, and soon the pair of them were battling their warrior figures against one another gleefully.
Less than an hour later, a knock sounded on the door.
“Enter!” Loki called out without turning as he used magic to push one of his pieces into a confrontation with Peter’s king.
Peter glanced up and saw Sif come in along with the three Asgardian men who had been at the Bartons’ home on Christmas. While Sif sank comfortably and without ceremony into an overstuffed chair by the fire, the others seemed ill at ease. Frowning, Peter finished his move, which ended with Loki capturing his king.
“An excellent first match!” Loki said, shaking his hand. “Well done.”
“You beat the boy,” a blond man with a moustache said, frowning in disapproval. “That’s hardly good manners.”
“I wouldn’t want him to throw the game,” Peter said, the words coming out a little more defensively than he intended. “It’s no fun if someone lets you win.”
The man shrugged noncommittally before looking around the room with barely disguised distaste. Peter couldn’t tell whether it was the hundreds of books, the wildly chaotic disorder of almost everything in the room, or the large snake and the inky black cat napping contentedly together in front of the fireplace that was bothering him.
“Yes,” Loki said slowly and with barely hidden dislike, “I suppose I should re-introduce you. Peter, I’m sure you remember the Warriors Three. The one you were speaking with is Fandral. The fellow currently raiding my fruit bowl of every frambosen berry is Volstagg. And that’s Hogan over by the desk. This is Peter, an Avenger, known by the name of Spider-Man in his realm, and friend to Thor and myself.”
Peter distinctly heard Fandral mutter under his breath, “I shall try not to hold the last item against him.”
“Just so you know, I have really great hearing, too,” Peter said, throwing Fandral an icy glare that he seemed to have picked up from Loki.
“Apologies,” Fandral said, at least looking a little embarrassed. “I meant no harm.”
“So, why am I treated to such a surprising, completely unannounced visit?” Loki asked.
“I’m afraid that’s my doing,” Sif said. “I thought perhaps Peter might want to ride out for a picnic lunch this afternoon and see some of Asgard’s countryside, or maybe the waterfall.”
“That’s really nice of you, Lady Sif, but we’re supposed to meet up with Frigga at lunch,” Peter said.
“That’s Queen Frigga to you, boy,” Fandral said, narrowing his eyes.
“Actually, no, it’s not,” Loki said, standing and turning towards Fandral. “Mother has given him permission to use her name thusly as she is not, in fact, his queen. Do you wish to insult her manners as well, or does that satisfy your honor?”
Fandral huffed out an unsatisfied breath but didn’t say anything more.
“In that case,” Sif said, frowning at Fandral and then smacking Volstagg’s hand away from the fruit bowl, “perhaps this evening instead? We could turn it into a camping trip and spend the night in the woods.”
“Loki, does that work with anything you or Thor had planned?” Peter asked.
“That should be acceptable, as long as you enjoy sleeping on dirt,” Loki said with a shrug.
“Fine then,” Sif said, brightening. “I’ll have the kitchens put together something for us. The horses are well now, so you should be able to have your pick from the stables.”
“Do you ride?” Hogan said, nearly scaring Peter out of his skin since he’d completely forgotten he was there.
“Uh… not really, no, unless you count the pony ride at the carnival I went to on my fifth birthday,” Peter said.
Fandral rolled his eyes as if this confirmed his worst impressions, and Sif frowned right back at him.
“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Sif said. “I shall look forward to seeing you. Volstagg!”
“What?!” he said, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.
Sif sighed, then stuck her hand into his coat pocket and pulled out three purple fruits the size of apples and returned them to the fruit bowl.
“We are literally walking directly from here to the kitchen,” she said in disbelief. “You couldn’t wait?”
“I thought I might get hungry on the way,” he said with a shrug.
Sif sighed, then looked back over to Loki.
“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” she said.
“It has been far too long since I have seen you decorating that horrid chair with your equally horrid posture,” Loki said, grinning.
“But you didn’t throw it out,” she said, returning the smile.
“No,” he said, “I did not.”
Sif’s smile grew a shade watery, and she reached down to pat the snake napping on the hearth gently on the head. It seemed to nuzzle comfortably up into her hand, then collapsed again like a limp rope. Then she and the Warriors Three left. Peter noticed Volstagg’s pockets were somehow once again bulging.
“Charming, aren’t they?” Loki said in a voice that suggested the exact opposite while he dropped into the chair Sif had vacated. Immediately the cat jumped into his lap with a loud meow, demanding Loki pet him.
“Not really,” Peter said. “They’re bullies, or at least that guy who looks like he belongs in a Rembrandt painting is.”
Loki snorted out a laugh while scratching under the cat’s chin.
“Congratulations, Peter, you are an excellent judge of character,” Loki said, then sighed. “Better than I was in my youth, at any rate.”
“You were friends?”
“Not really, no. They worked rather hard to make my life miserable, and for some reason I was convinced I needed to win their approval to prove myself. Eventually I realized that their esteem wasn’t something I cared about. It was remarkably freeing,” Loki said.
Peter hesitated, then said, “Can I ask a kind of personal question?”
“Go on.”
“Did you ever date Fandral?”
Now Loki really did laugh, startling the cat, who jumped to the floor with an aggrieved growl.
“Great Norns, boy, how did you ever figure that out! I don’t think even Hogan and Volstagg know that. It was a very brief, entirely secret relationship. I believe it lasted less than a week. It ranks as one of my worst decisions, only slightly outranked by throwing myself off the bridge,” Loki said, then shuddered dramatically.
Peter quietly wondered if Fandral harbored enough of a grudge against Loki to want to embarrass him by discrediting his Midgardian guest in front of the court, but it seemed unlikely. After all, Peter was Thor’s friend too, and Fandral didn’t seem to have any reason to want to target him.
“It’s nearly luncheon,” Loki said, stroking the cat once and getting a hiss followed by a headbutt against his hand. “Come along. I suspect Mother will have had something particularly scrumptious prepared for the occasion, and perhaps she will have news.”
Breakfast in the gardens was delightful, even with the shadow of the attempt to sabotage Peter’s reputation hanging over them. Peter couldn’t pronounce anything he was eating, but everything was delicious. As the four of them ate at a little table underneath a tree that was covered in pale yellow flowers, Frigga told them the horses were now well again. Peter sighed in relief.
“I’m really happy to hear that. I was worried about them,” Peter said.
“And I’m worried about you,” Thor said, looking concerned. “Mother, someone attempted putting false evidence of Peter being a thief in his baggage last night.”
Frigga looked startled as her sons informed her of the latest problem. By the time they were through, she was appalled.
“Peter, I am dreadfully sorry for how you are being treated. When this visit was arranged, it was our intention to give you a rare treat, and instead your honor is being dragged through the mud by some unknown enemy.”
“That’s just it, Mother,” Thor said. “No one here knows the boy. They barely know of the existence of Spider-Man. Why would someone go through all this difficulty just to humiliate a random guest?”
“They wouldn’t,” Frigga said. “Something is amiss here. Peter, I apologize for putting boundaries around your visit, but I would be easier in my mind if you would stay within the walls of the palace at least for this morning. I have my own skills and sources, and I intend to use them. By luncheon, I expect to know more.”
“That’s okay,” Peter said. “I wanted to look over the rest of the palace anyway. It’s really beautiful.”
“Perhaps you would enjoy the library,” Loki said, brightening.
“The library?” Thor said, sounding as though Loki had suggested dining on soggy tennis shoes for lunch. “Surely there must be something more light-hearted—”
“No, no, really! I’d love to see it!” Peter said, beaming so happily that it was obvious he was sincere.
“Fine!” Loki said, grinning back. “No time like the present.”
“Yes, well, I wish to check on the stables again, just to be certain everything is as it should be,” Thor said, then bowed to his mother and headed away at a jog.
Frigga looked after him and sighed.
“At least one of my sons enjoys books as much as I do,” she said. “I believe I will join you.”
The three of them rose from the table and walked back into the palace, down three corridors, and up a flight of stairs until they came to—
“Wow,” Peter whispered as the doors opened. “This is incredible! And also, weirdly familiar?”
Loki chuckled.
“Yes, well, I suppose it would. Not too many mortal years ago, I left a sketch of this place at a certain animation studio, and not long after…”
“It’s the Beast’s library from Beauty and the Beast!” Peter crowed. “Only bigger!”
“Exactly,” Loki said.
Peter stared at the twin spiral staircases and the towering bookshelves with his mouth hanging open. Frigga laughed, then put her finger under his chin and closed it for him.
“Sorry,” he said. “Little stunned. Are any of them in English?”
“A few,” Loki said, “but that doesn’t matter. There’s a spell on them to make them appear in the native tongue of the reader. Feel free to explore any of them. This section is galactic history, folktales of the Nine Realms are by the fireplace, and a few general tomes on magic are over by the window. I keep most of my own spellbooks, grimoires, and reference volumes in my rooms. These tend more toward the beginner level, but they’re still interesting enough.”
“Really?” Peter asked. “I can look at anything I want?”
“Really,” Frigga said, smiling. “It is my command that you enjoy yourself!”
Peter looked downright giddy as he literally ran towards the spellbooks, missing the amused look that passed between Frigga and Loki.
“If anything ever happens to his aunt, Norns forbid, I am adopting that child,” Frigga said to Loki quietly.
“Apparently, there will be a line,” Loki said, chuckling.
Frigga patted his arm affectionately before leaving the library to begin research of her own.
Peter spent the next three hours switching between curling up in a chair by the fireplace with a stack of books and browsing the shelves with Loki at his elbow, giving commentary on which ones he might enjoy. For his part, Loki wandered over to a shelf of books on weaponry and opened the heavily illustrated volume on a table, pouring over the examples of daggers from planets Peter had never heard of.
At length, Peter stretched and walked over to the window, his eyes getting tired from reading the ornate penmanship in the hand-lettered books.
“Would you care for a game of Hnefatafl?” Loki suggested, leaving his own book on the table. “I have a board in my sitting room, and we could have tea sent up, if you wish.”
“Sure,” Peter said. “I don’t know how to play it, though. Or, like, even say it.”
“Neither does anyone else on your planet,” Loki said. “It’s a bit like chess. The Vikings enjoyed it when my father showed it to them, but Midgard lost the rules over time. I’ve always quite liked it.”
“I like chess,” Peter said. “Should I just leave these here?”
“Yes, the librarian will be thrilled to have something to tidy up, poor lamb. She doesn’t often get much business other than Mother and me,” Loki said.
“That’s a downright shame,” Peter said, staring up at the thousands of books as they left.
Loki’s rooms weren’t far from the library, something Peter suspected was no accident, and in only a few minutes the pair of them were sipping whatever passed for tea on Asgard (something that tasted vaguely like mint and lemon but was a soft shade of purple) and playing the board game. Peter picked up the rules quickly, and soon the pair of them were battling their warrior figures against one another gleefully.
Less than an hour later, a knock sounded on the door.
“Enter!” Loki called out without turning as he used magic to push one of his pieces into a confrontation with Peter’s king.
Peter glanced up and saw Sif come in along with the three Asgardian men who had been at the Bartons’ home on Christmas. While Sif sank comfortably and without ceremony into an overstuffed chair by the fire, the others seemed ill at ease. Frowning, Peter finished his move, which ended with Loki capturing his king.
“An excellent first match!” Loki said, shaking his hand. “Well done.”
“You beat the boy,” a blond man with a moustache said, frowning in disapproval. “That’s hardly good manners.”
“I wouldn’t want him to throw the game,” Peter said, the words coming out a little more defensively than he intended. “It’s no fun if someone lets you win.”
The man shrugged noncommittally before looking around the room with barely disguised distaste. Peter couldn’t tell whether it was the hundreds of books, the wildly chaotic disorder of almost everything in the room, or the large snake and the inky black cat napping contentedly together in front of the fireplace that was bothering him.
“Yes,” Loki said slowly and with barely hidden dislike, “I suppose I should re-introduce you. Peter, I’m sure you remember the Warriors Three. The one you were speaking with is Fandral. The fellow currently raiding my fruit bowl of every frambosen berry is Volstagg. And that’s Hogan over by the desk. This is Peter, an Avenger, known by the name of Spider-Man in his realm, and friend to Thor and myself.”
Peter distinctly heard Fandral mutter under his breath, “I shall try not to hold the last item against him.”
“Just so you know, I have really great hearing, too,” Peter said, throwing Fandral an icy glare that he seemed to have picked up from Loki.
“Apologies,” Fandral said, at least looking a little embarrassed. “I meant no harm.”
“So, why am I treated to such a surprising, completely unannounced visit?” Loki asked.
“I’m afraid that’s my doing,” Sif said. “I thought perhaps Peter might want to ride out for a picnic lunch this afternoon and see some of Asgard’s countryside, or maybe the waterfall.”
“That’s really nice of you, Lady Sif, but we’re supposed to meet up with Frigga at lunch,” Peter said.
“That’s Queen Frigga to you, boy,” Fandral said, narrowing his eyes.
“Actually, no, it’s not,” Loki said, standing and turning towards Fandral. “Mother has given him permission to use her name thusly as she is not, in fact, his queen. Do you wish to insult her manners as well, or does that satisfy your honor?”
Fandral huffed out an unsatisfied breath but didn’t say anything more.
“In that case,” Sif said, frowning at Fandral and then smacking Volstagg’s hand away from the fruit bowl, “perhaps this evening instead? We could turn it into a camping trip and spend the night in the woods.”
“Loki, does that work with anything you or Thor had planned?” Peter asked.
“That should be acceptable, as long as you enjoy sleeping on dirt,” Loki said with a shrug.
“Fine then,” Sif said, brightening. “I’ll have the kitchens put together something for us. The horses are well now, so you should be able to have your pick from the stables.”
“Do you ride?” Hogan said, nearly scaring Peter out of his skin since he’d completely forgotten he was there.
“Uh… not really, no, unless you count the pony ride at the carnival I went to on my fifth birthday,” Peter said.
Fandral rolled his eyes as if this confirmed his worst impressions, and Sif frowned right back at him.
“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Sif said. “I shall look forward to seeing you. Volstagg!”
“What?!” he said, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.
Sif sighed, then stuck her hand into his coat pocket and pulled out three purple fruits the size of apples and returned them to the fruit bowl.
“We are literally walking directly from here to the kitchen,” she said in disbelief. “You couldn’t wait?”
“I thought I might get hungry on the way,” he said with a shrug.
Sif sighed, then looked back over to Loki.
“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” she said.
“It has been far too long since I have seen you decorating that horrid chair with your equally horrid posture,” Loki said, grinning.
“But you didn’t throw it out,” she said, returning the smile.
“No,” he said, “I did not.”
Sif’s smile grew a shade watery, and she reached down to pat the snake napping on the hearth gently on the head. It seemed to nuzzle comfortably up into her hand, then collapsed again like a limp rope. Then she and the Warriors Three left. Peter noticed Volstagg’s pockets were somehow once again bulging.
“Charming, aren’t they?” Loki said in a voice that suggested the exact opposite while he dropped into the chair Sif had vacated. Immediately the cat jumped into his lap with a loud meow, demanding Loki pet him.
“Not really,” Peter said. “They’re bullies, or at least that guy who looks like he belongs in a Rembrandt painting is.”
Loki snorted out a laugh while scratching under the cat’s chin.
“Congratulations, Peter, you are an excellent judge of character,” Loki said, then sighed. “Better than I was in my youth, at any rate.”
“You were friends?”
“Not really, no. They worked rather hard to make my life miserable, and for some reason I was convinced I needed to win their approval to prove myself. Eventually I realized that their esteem wasn’t something I cared about. It was remarkably freeing,” Loki said.
Peter hesitated, then said, “Can I ask a kind of personal question?”
“Go on.”
“Did you ever date Fandral?”
Now Loki really did laugh, startling the cat, who jumped to the floor with an aggrieved growl.
“Great Norns, boy, how did you ever figure that out! I don’t think even Hogan and Volstagg know that. It was a very brief, entirely secret relationship. I believe it lasted less than a week. It ranks as one of my worst decisions, only slightly outranked by throwing myself off the bridge,” Loki said, then shuddered dramatically.
Peter quietly wondered if Fandral harbored enough of a grudge against Loki to want to embarrass him by discrediting his Midgardian guest in front of the court, but it seemed unlikely. After all, Peter was Thor’s friend too, and Fandral didn’t seem to have any reason to want to target him.
“It’s nearly luncheon,” Loki said, stroking the cat once and getting a hiss followed by a headbutt against his hand. “Come along. I suspect Mother will have had something particularly scrumptious prepared for the occasion, and perhaps she will have news.”
