Fic: A Traitor in the House of Odin (11/14)

[bookishwench]

The three of them followed in Frigga’s wake, catching a glimpse of the train of her dress disappeared around a corner. They caught up to her quickly, and Peter realized they were heading back towards the library.

“He doesn’t know I’m here, does he?” Peter asked.

“I’m fairly sure he does now,” Loki said, giving him a look of pity. “He just… knows when something isn’t as he wants it.”

“And you would know,” Thor said.

“More times than I can possibly count,” Loki agreed. “Mother?”

“I’m thinking,” she snapped, striding down one of the rows of books. “He shouldn’t have returned home for at least a week. I have no idea how he got here so quickly without my knowledge.”

“I’m wondering a good many things,” Loki said as he glanced at the book titles on the shelf where Frigga had stopped.

“Spellbooks?” Peter asked, looking at the spines.

“More specifically, memory spells,” Loki said, gingerly taking an old volume off the shelf. “They’re tricky things. Mother, you aren’t considering trying to blot out the population’s memory of Peter, are you?”

“Of course not,” Frigga said, leafing through another volume quickly. “The ramifications from memory spells can be dire. Only a fool would try that.”

“Then what are you doing?” Thor asked.

Frigga ran a finger over a page of handwritten text, then tapped her finger on a particular line.

“This is it,” she said firmly, dog-earing the page before opening a pocket universe and stashing it quickly out of sight, just as Peter had seen Loki do before. “Sons, come with me. We must greet your father. Peter—”

She seemed to consider for a moment, then nodded.

“—yes, you had better come too,” she said, patting his cheek gently. “All will be well. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Peter said, his voice choosing that moment to crack spectacularly.

Thor put a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder, and with him on one side and Loki on the other, he raised his chin and followed behind Frigga, keeping a fast pace through corridors and down flights of stairs until they arrived at what he assumed must be the throne room. The massive door was still shut, but a pair of Einherjar were guarding it, one on each side. They saluted the queen and princes respectfully, but Peter noticed the same cold, appraising glint in their eyes that had greeted him when he had first entered the palace. They might even be the same two men; with the horned helmets, it was hard to tell.

“My queen,” one said, speaking respectfully but keeping his eyes on Peter, “we cannot yet permit you to enter. The king forbids it.”

“Oh, does he?” Frigga said, her eyes narrowing. “Well, as his wife, and therefore his equal, I forbid him to forbid me!”

She flicked her hand and the door opened of its own accord with a loud boom. Peter gulped, half expecting a fight to ensue, but the Einherjar looked at one another and stepped aside.

“Thank you,” Frigga said politely as she walked confidently into the throne room with Thor, Loki, and Peter following behind.

What Peter saw completely confused him. At the far end of the room, Odin was sitting sternly on his throne. He had obviously been in conversation with an Einherjar who looked even more intimidating than average, but he had stopped when the door opened. Peter could have expected that, but what was throwing him was the room was literally packed with warriors, all of them armed, standing perfectly silent as though awaiting orders. It was eerily still.

“Frigga,” Odin said, rising from his seat with a deep frown. “I expressly commanded the Einherjar not to admit you.”

“And they didn’t. I opened the door myself,” Frigga said, continuing down the aisle so quickly she was practically jogging. “What is all this?”

“This,” Odin said, gesturing at the collected Einherjar, “is for that one.”

He pointed at Peter, who did his best not to panic outwardly but was screaming on the inside.

“Me?” he managed to say.

“Yes. For the traitor who has betrayed the hospitality of this realm, attempted killing our battle steeds, stolen the coronation crown, and then arranged for one of our worst enemies to infiltrate the very heart of Asgard in an assassination attempt on both heirs to the throne!” Odin said, his voice gradually rising until he was bellowing the last words. The Einherjar finally moved at this, accompanied by low grumblings that sounded horribly like wild wolves growling.

“Fiddle faddle,” Frigga said calmly. “Not a word of it is true.”

“Father, how did you even learn of any of this?” Loki asked.

“I am the king,” Odin replied, not bothering to look at him. “I have eyes and ears through all of my realm, and knowledge flows to me constantly. I notice you do not deny any of it.”

“I do not deny someone poisoned the horses, stole the crown, and admitted Grashniks in spite of Heimdall’s eyes, but it was not Peter,” Loki said.

“Then who else?” Odin said. “You are taken in by his seeming innocence and youth, but I see beyond such facades. The boy is guilty of high treason and must be dealt with accordingly. I expected him to have sense enough to run when he was caught, but the assembled search party has proven superfluous.”

“Father, I swear to you, Peter is innocent,” Thor said. “I would gamble my life on his unstained honor in all this.”

At this point, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif arrived, actually sprinting down the aisle towards the throne. The effect was somewhat less majestic when the stench from Fandral’s run-in with Vicious permeated the room, making several Einherjar’s eyes water.

“My king, I was present at this battle, and I swear to you, Peter comported himself with honor. He is no traitor to Asgard,” Lady Sif said quickly.

“He is!” Odin said. “I declare him guilty as he stands!”

“And I refuse to agree,” Frigga said.

“My love, you have full equality in all things with me, but not when it comes to this,” Odin said.

“Oh, I don’t claim a legal right, but believe me, if you continue on this course, I will most assuredly make things as difficult as possible for you to proceed any further,” Frigga said.

“Be that as it may, my judgment,” Odin said, smiling grimly at Peter, “is final.”

Loki looked at Thor, and Peter’s heart nearly stopped because he had never seen both of them so frightened. Suddenly, though, Loki paused, tilting his head as though something had occurred to him.

“Father, if you wish to prove the wisdom of your judgment, I suggest a test,” Loki said.

“What sort of test?” Odin said, glaring at him.

“If the boy can lift Mjolnir, would that be proof enough for you that he is worthy?” Loki asked.

Odin laughed without any humor, then said, “If that mere child can lift Thor’s hammer, then yes, I will allow that he has done nothing he should not do and recant my verdict of his guilt.”

“Very well,” Loki said. “Thor?”

Thor set the hammer on the ground and nodded at Peter. Feeling nervous, he came forward, wrapped his hand around Mjolnir’s handle, and lifted it. There was no resistance at all. He might as well have been holding a feather.

Odin gawked at him.

“That is not possible,” he said slowly. “Is this the true hammer or merely one of your clever copies, Loki?”

“It is real,” Thor said, smiling at Peter, who was still holding the hammer aloft while the Einherjar murmured in confusion. “This is not the first time he has proven he is worthy.”

“A Midgardian child?” Odin said in disbelief.

“Teenager,” Peter corrected him. “Should I keep holding this or is it okay if I put it back down now?”

Odin said nothing, but Frigga nodded, and Peter walked towards Odin and placed the hammer at the base of the stairs leading to the dais. Carefully, he walked backwards away from him rather than turning his back on the king. He figured that might land him prison for the rest of his life or something. Unfortunately, one of the stones in the floor was a little uneven, and he immediately tripped, sprawling in an ungraceful heap.

“Really?” Odin said, grimacing as he turned to Thor. “This one? He’s worthy? Him?”

“So the hammer says,” Thor said, his smiling only growing broader.

Loki offered him a hand up, and Peter noticed something wistful in Loki’s expression.

“Excuse me,” Peter said, drawing Odin’s one-eyed gaze back to him. “Am I allowed to ask a question, please?”

Odin stared at him as though he had no idea what to do with him.

“Okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” Peter said. “What do you mean by ‘worthy’?”

“It should be self-explanatory,” Odin said dismissively.

“But it’s not,” Peter said. “Thor’s worthy. I guess I’m worthy. But from what Thor said earlier, nobody else is?”

“It is a rare quality,” Odin admitted.

“What quality, though?” Peter asked.

“Bravery, good will, purity of heart,” Odin said. “Worthiness. It’s self-evident.”

“Nobody else on Asgard has that?” Peter asked.

“In the proper overflowing abundance, no,” Odin said. “One whom Mjolnir chooses is truly extraordinary, worthy . . . even of the throne.”

The king looked horrified by his own words as well as repulsed.

“Okay, but can someone lose the ability to lift the hammer?” Peter asked.

“Yes,” Odin said. “If one does something to impugn their honor, Mjolnir will reject that person at once. It will refuse to be wielded by the unworthy.”

Peter stood silently for a minute, then squared his shoulders.

“I don’t buy it,” he said firmly.

Every set of eyes (or half set in Odin’s case) in the room opened wide in shock.

“Peter,” Thor said quietly, “you just got out of trouble. Don’t jump back into it.”

“Thor, didn’t you use Mjolnir when you were attacking Jotunheim?” Peter asked.

“Well, yes,” Thor said, looking embarrassed at the memory. “It was a poor, impulsive, badly reasoned attack on my part.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said. “It doesn’t sound like you were acting very worthy at the time. So did Mjolnir just drop out of your hand and you couldn’t pick it up again?”

Thor frowned, seeming confused, “No. I could wield it as ever until my father took it from me. Then he banned me from it until I had proven my worthiness again.”

“While unwise, the spirit of Thor’s attack was honorable,” Odin said quickly. “That was why.”

“No,” Peter said. “It wasn’t. Thor wasn’t doing something honorable. He nearly started a war.”

“Are you trying to have your death sentence reinstated by claiming Mjolnir is not capable of judging your worthiness?” Odin snapped angrily. “I can do that, if you wish.”

“No,” Peter said, “but I’m innocent because I really didn’t do anything wrong, not because I can lift that hammer.”

“Peter,” Loki said gently, “Thor has been able to lift Mjolnir since he was barely more than a child, just as I have never been able to move it. He’s worthy. That’s why he has that gift, as you do, and my failure is the consequence of my faults. There is no other explanation.”

“Loki is correct,” Odin said.

“No, he’s not. Mr. Odin, when did you put the spell on Mjolnir that made it so Thor could always lift it no matter what he did? Because I don’t think it has anything to do with being worthy. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had to command Mjolnir to reject him before you dumped him on Earth. If it really can be lifted only by someone who’s worthy, and he wasn’t anymore, he shouldn’t have been able to lift it again in the first place.”

The silence in the throne room was absolute. Peter had known he was going to get in trouble, but he hadn’t been able to take it anymore. The whole thing made no sense at all, and the hammer was just another thing that seemed like it was a lie. Odin looked like he might explode, or more likely, blow him up.

“Get out,” Odin finally said, his voice deadly quiet. “Leave my realm. Never return, or I shall not be held responsible for the consequences.”

“I think you have been absolved from the consequences of many of your actions for far too long a time, husband,” Frigga said, glaring at him. “I notice you have not said the child is wrong.”

“That should be obvious!” Odin thundered, turning on her.

“It is not,” Frigga said. “When Mjolnir was presented to Thor, you told him he would be able to lift it if he was worthy, as would anyone else. Even as a mere child, he lifted it with ease. I remember being very proud, so proud I never bothered to ask Peter’s very sensible question. How do you truly define worthy, husband?”

“I have said all I will say,” Odin spat out. “I am king here, not you, and not this mortal child who had no right to step foot in the Realm Eternal!”

“He is here at my express invitation,” Frigga said.

“And against my express orders,” Odin replied.

Thor and Loki caught one another’s eye, and Peter saw they were exchanging the exact same look he’d seen kids younger than him give each other. It said without a word, “Mom and Dad are fighting!”