CHAPTER FIVE

THE MAJESTIC REALM of Asgard, with its flowing rivers, ornate towers, and massive gold observatory, seemed to hover within the cosmos, as if magically suspended among the sparkling stars and rotating planets.

In the center of this beautiful land was its most iconic and important structure—the palace of King Odin Allfather, ruler of Asgard, and his wife, Queen Frigga. Beneath the enormous throne room, the large and lively dining rooms, the calming healing room, and the rest, lay the Asgardian dungeon. Located at the very most bottom level of the palace—lower still than the heavily guarded vault room that housed Asgard’s most amazing and dangerous treasures—the dungeon was a dark, dank, and nearly inescapable structure that was home to some of the worst criminals, thieves, and murderers in the Nine Realms of the cosmos. And today, its occupancy was about to increase. The royal Einherjar escorted the captured Marauders to their individual cells, all of which were sealed with an impenetrable bluish energy barrier.

Watching the proceedings from his own inescapable cell was Loki, adoptive son of Odin and Frigga, and stepbrother to Thor. For crimes against both Asgard and Earth, Loki was held as a prisoner in the bowels of his own home, locked away for all eternity. Looking out at the hopeless Marauders, Loki turned and spoke. “Odin continues to bring new friends. How thoughtful.”

But Loki wasn’t talking to himself; he was talking to his visitor, the only visitor he ever got—his mother, Queen Frigga. The queen made a point to visit her son, and to bring him some amenities from his old life, like his collection of books. But they all sat unopened and untouched in a dark corner of his cell. “The books I sent…do they not interest you?” Frigga asked.

“Is that what I am supposed to do while away for eternity? Reading?” Loki replied in disgust.

“I have done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki,” the queen responded.

“And does Odin share your concern?” Loki began, slowly moving toward his mother. “Or Thor? It must be inconvenient, my brother asking after me day and night,” he said with sarcasm in his voice.

“You know full well it was your actions that brought you here,” Frigga said. This only angered Loki further.

“I was merely given truth to the lie I’ve been told my entire life: that I was born to be a king,” Loki stated as a matter of fact.

“A true king admits his faults. You have yet to take responsibility for any of your choices.” Frigga asked, her anger escalating, “What of the lives you took on Earth?”

“A mere handful compared to the number Odin has taken himself,” Loki said with a vicious smile.

“Your father—”

“He is not my father!” Loki yelled, his voice echoing throughout the chamber.

There was a moment of silence, and then Frigga finally spoke. “Then am I not your mother?” she whispered.

“You are not,” Loki said, his words stabbing.

“Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself,” Frigga said as Loki reached his hand up to hers. But Loki’s hand merely moved through her, and with a shimmer, the image of Frigga dissolved into the ether.

Several stories above, inside her chamber, the real Frigga stood over a fire pit and watched as the image of Loki faded in the flames and smoke. “He will only disappoint you,” a voice said from behind her, breaking her out of her trance. It was Thor.

“Why indulge him?” Thor continued. “The gifts? The visits?” Thor couldn’t understand how Frigga still had so much compassion for someone who had done so much evil.

“I think if you ask the guards, they will tell you I was never there,” Frigga said with a hint of smile. She made her way over to Thor and continued. “What would you have me do? I am his mother and he is my son. I loved you no less when you were banished.”

“Our crimes were hardly equal,” Thor was quick to point out. Then he added, “Don’t you ever regret teaching him your magic?”

“You and your father cast long shadows,” Frigga began, hoping to finally make Thor understand. “I had hoped that by sharing my gifts with Loki, he could feel some sun for himself.”

“But you were wrong.”

“For the moment.”

“You still see good in him, don’t you?” Thor asked.

“I see glimmers of light I thought long extinguished,” Frigga stated, optimistic that Thor might one day share her point of view.

Thor lowered his head. “Loki forfeited my forgiveness long ago.” The two stood opposite each other for a long, silent moment, until Frigga decided it best to change the subject.

“Am I to take it by your presence that the Nine Realms still stand?”

“I came to give father the good news,” Thor said, his smile returning.

“And you thought to find him here? You’ll find him where he is more at ease,” she said. Thor should’ve known. Odin wouldn’t be in the palace at a time like this. He’d be with his men. Training.

Heavy broadswords clashed against shields, spears were thrown at high velocity toward their targets, and armored guards battled against one another in elaborate war games. Led by Tyr, the Einherjar drill instructor known for the metal hand that replaced the real one that he had lost long ago in glorious battle, these were the Asgardian training grounds, and they were very, very active. Above it all circled two large black ravens. They watched the proceedings with keen interest before landing on a ledge next to the King of Asgard, Odin Allfather, who looked down at his troops. While still a great sovereign leader, Odin was growing older, and with age came the fatigue and weariness that only ruling can bring.

Thor approached his father with news that Vanaheim was finally secure. Odin was relieved that the Nine Realms were safe, but also felt the constant burden of always having to be the one to protect them. “For the first time since the Bifrost was destroyed, the Nine Realms are at peace, well reminded of our strength. You have earned their respect, and my gratitude,” he told his son. But he could sense that something was wrong.

“I felt something on Vanaheim,” Thor said. “A presence…a darkness…”

“And you would like to investigate?” Odin asked. “On Earth, perhaps?” Odin continued, wondering if this was really a ploy for Thor to return to Midgard. They had had this conversation before.

“This isn’t about Jane Foster,” Thor began, “though I have pledged to protect her realm. If something is amiss in the universe—”

Odin cut him off. He was tired of this conversation. “Nothing is amiss. Save your distracted heart,” he instructed. “Mortal lives are fleeting. You would be better served by what lies in front of you,” Odin said, nodding down at the training grounds, and at the arrival of Lady Sif, who was instructing the Einherjar on how to disarm an opponent. Feeling like she was being watched, Sif looked up and caught Thor’s eye. The two smiled at one another as Odin continued. “I tell you this not as your Allfather, but as your father: Lament not what you have lost”—looking toward Lady Sif, he continued—“but embrace what you have won.”

Thor thought heavily. His heart was still on Midgard, with Jane, but he would consider his father’s words.

“Now go,” Odin continued. “Join your warriors. Revel in their celebration. At the very least enjoy yourself.”

Thor bowed to his father. “We shall drink Asgard dry.”