“Very little about Loki was peaceful for long. More often than not, he was causing trouble, picking fights over something as small as a game of dice. Like he couldn’t help himself.”
—God of Lies Revealed
I peeked out the window. The boys were shrieking, chasing each other in front of our hall. Narvi had a handful of worms that Váli wanted nothing to do with. Sleipnir was lying on the grass, curled up more like a cat than a horse, keeping subtle watch over his brothers. Six years for a boy was enough for games and make-believe, but for a horse…He was nearly grown, and sometimes wiser than the rest of us.
Movement in the distance caught my eye. Loki was home, walking with the kind of easy confidence that had captured my attention all those years ago.
Gods, I loved him.
The boys ran to their father, stumbling over each other for affection. He bent down and hoisted them into his arms, attempting to haul them both to the front door.
“Father, look. These worms have no eyes.” Narvi held them up for him to see.
Loki made a face, craning his neck away from them. “No, I suppose they don’t.”
Váli knocked Narvi’s hand to the side and the worms spilt onto the ground. “Hey!” Narvi pouted as Loki shook the stray worms from his leg.
“The worms are gross like you.” Váli stuck his tongue out at his brother.
“You’re gross, not me.” The two started to swat at each other.
“Ymir’s breath, enough! You’re both gross.” Loki flashed them a grin and a wink that made them laugh. “Where’s your mother?” His boots hit the wooden deck, slow and heavy with the weight of his sons.
I opened the door. “Right here. Where are my carrots?”
Loki wiggled his hip. “In the satchel. Come boys, down you go.” He set them down and they ran off, back outside. He huffed and stretched out his back. “I’m afraid I’m becoming an old man.”
I took the carrots from him and leaned in to give him a long kiss. “Let’s hope not. I still need your stamina for a few more years.”
“Is that so?” He laughed and pulled a few other necessities from his bag, then leaned on the counter. His gaze went to the window, and the smile faded. He stared at the boys as they played, his thoughts a thousand miles away.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek into his back. “What’s wrong?”
He straightened and pulled me into his arms. “I think we should enlist Váli in the einherjar.”
“What?” I pulled back, straining his hold on me. “Why?”
“He’s wild, Sig. Some of the tricks he plays are innocent enough; I still haven’t found that left boot. But yesterday I caught him trying to talk Narvi into climbing onto the roof.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I pried his hands away and went to the door, watching Váli.
“Because I hate to see you worry. I already spoke to Tyr, and he’ll train Váli himself if we want it.”
“He’s only six, Loki!” I gestured out the door, unable to believe what I was hearing. “You can’t send him off to learn to fight and kill at six.”
“He’s been picking at his brother since Narvi was born.”
I scoffed. “Váli loves Narvi. He punched Magni in the nose last week for calling Narvi a Jotun frost-skin.”
Loki bristled at the slur. “Exactly, Sig. When do we say enough is enough? When he breaks someone’s arm?” He sat at the table, elbows on his knees, watching me. “Nothing we’ve done has worked. This isn’t a bit of mischief anymore. He needs a firmer hand. I don’t know what else to do.”
The comment stirred my anger. “Are you saying we didn’t do a good enough job?”
“I’m saying that we need help.” Loki looked me in the eyes. “He’s reckless, and everyone knows it. He won’t have the freedom to make the same mistakes as other children. You hear what they call him now. Tricksterson. Little Liesmith. If he keeps this up, the names will stick. We need to stem it now.”
I let his words settle. “You’re afraid he’ll turn out like you.”
His gaze fell away, and he didn’t answer.
“And what if this isn’t what he wants?”
“If he learns the discipline it takes to be an einherjar, it could open up a lot of opportunities for him. It might be the single best chance I can give him. You have no title for him to hide under, and there’s no place here for another God of Lies.”
His words stung. “I’ve been a little preoccupied, raising three children.”
He stood immediately and pulled me into his arms. “I’m sorry. You know that’s not what I mean by it.”
I sighed into his chest, still irritated. “I know.”
A wailing cry rose from outside. Narvi was sitting on the ground, his hair covered in dirt, pulling a worm out of his mouth. Váli stood above him, his hands caked in brown, the slyest grin on his face.
Loki just looked at me.
“Fine.”
◦ ● ◦
Einherjar trained in sleet and snow and rain and fog. Ragnarok wouldn’t care about the weather, Tyr told them. They’d just have to learn to like it.
But I was no einherji, and I didn’t feel compelled to like it at all. Váli had been training for weeks, and there had been more rain than sun in that time. One of us had braved it every day to go with him. Neither Loki nor I trusted the city enough to send him alone, especially with a name like Lokason. But Loki was off on some errand to Vanaheim, and it was still my turn to be wet.
The dirt had turned to mud by the time the boys and I arrived, water dripping from our cloaks. Tyr was waiting for him, a wooden sword in his hand. The God of War was no small man. He wore a stern scowl under a fierce black beard and moustache, with harsh eyes and crisp, leathery skin from spending all his days outside, training the einherjar. He wore the same simple armour as everyone else, though his was dyed a dark blue.
Váli had been terrified of Tyr since the beginning, but so was everyone else. I reminded him that he was lucky to be given such devoted attention by a God of War. Any einherjar would kill for that kind of training. What he didn’t know was how much Loki had bargained in gold, mead, and future favours to Tyr in order to fix that position for him. Hopefully, he’d warm up to his new mentor.
“Don’t be a fool, boy.” Tyr’s voice was cold and deep. Wood cracked against wood, Tyr parrying the boy’s strike. “Where’s your skill? Have you held a sword before?”
Váli huffed and puffed, his knuckles white around the wooden sword hilt. “I’m not stupid.”
“Show me.” Tyr braced his feet in the mud.
Watching them from the other side of the fence made me restless. I’d spent my youth out here, watching the einherjar hack each other to pieces, but it was another thing for it to be my boy. But Váli was surprising everyone. Every day, he walked away frustrated and enraged and covered in dirt, and each morning he sprang out of bed looking for more. He had passion for it and worked like he had something to prove.
Váli leapt forward, putting all his force behind a single blow. Tyr sidestepped his attack and slapped him on the back with his wooden sword. Váli swung back around, his boots slipping in the mud, screaming a tiny battle cry.
“Come on brother! You can do it!” Narvi hopped up and down on the rail of the fence, fist in the air. He turned to look at me. “I don’t want to be a warrior.”
I ruffled his hair. “You don’t have to be.”
“But if I could do seidr, no one could stop me and Váli. We’d be hero brothers.”
Seidr. A thing Loki and I had talked about endlessly. When the time came, when one of them asked, what would we say? Loki was torn. He didn’t want his sons living with what he did. But how could we tell them no if they wanted to learn? How could we explain what had happened to their father and forbid them to practice what he so openly flaunted?
“Narvi, sweetheart.” I made sure I had his attention before continuing. “I’m going to ask you something very important, and I want you to think about it before you answer. Sometimes people say mean things about our family, and sometimes those things are about your father and how he uses seidr. You understand that, yes?”
He nodded, a stillness settling over him as he listened.
“If you decide to learn seidr, they may say some really mean things about you too.” I pushed a piece of his hair behind his ear. “I love you dearly, and I don’t want people to have more reasons to be cruel to you.”
There was pain in his eyes as he shrugged. “It’s alright, Mama. I’m used to it.”
That casual acceptance… My heart broke. What life was I giving him if cruelty was the norm? No matter how safe I made my home for him, I would never be able to control what happened outside of it. My chest felt hollowed out. What point was there to being a mother if I couldn’t protect him?
Perhaps the best I could do was help him protect himself.
I sighed. “If I said yes, would you use it responsibly? You could never use it against anyone else unless it’s to keep yourself safe.”
Narvi nodded so hard I feared his head might pop off. “Pinky swear.”
“Alright, if you’re sure.” I would smooth it over with Loki later. He of all people should understand. “Do you want your father to teach you?”
Narvi shook his head. “No. Well, maybe sometimes. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’d be a healer like you.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I sniffed, blinking them away. “We could start tomorrow, if that’s what you’d like.”
“Start what?” The familiar voice came from behind me, bringing a smile to my lips.
“Father, you’re back!” Narvi turned around on the fence and reached out. Loki stepped into his embrace and hoisted him into his arms. His father ruffled his hair, knocking his hood down. “Mother’s going to teach me to be a healer, cause she’s the best völva in Asgard.”
“Is that so?” Loki turned his smile at me, and I warmed inside. Rain dripped down his uncovered head, soaking into the thickly braided tail in his hair. He flipped Narvi over, holding him upside down by his ankles. “I thought you said I was the best völva in Asgard.”
“You’re both the best!” Narvi laughed, his long hair sweeping against the ground as he hung helpless.
I poked the boy in the belly. “And you’re sucking up to your father.”
Loki righted Narvi and set him back on the fence. He kissed me on the cheek. “Have I missed anything? Is he a righteous hero yet?”
I put my arm around him. “It’s incredible. He’s too tired to raid the kitchen most nights and too busy to convince Narvi to do anything foolish.”
Loki chuckled. “Give it time. He’ll be back to his old tricks once it starts getting easier.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from Yggdrasil, my love.” I took his face in my hands, pulling him down for a kiss. I’d missed his lips.
“No?” Loki asked between kisses. “I don’t know—what you mean.” His tongue snuck a tiny lick onto the edge of my lip, stirring my body.
Narvi made a retching noise. “You’re gross.”
A battle cry came from the other side of the fence. We looked up in time to see Váli slide into the mud, his sword gone from his hand. Tyr pinned him to the ground with his foot, his wooden blade at the boy’s throat.
“Again,” Tyr commanded.
Váli looked toward us. The anger turned to surprise. “Father!”
Tyr removed his boot from his chest and hauled Váli up by his collar, setting him on his feet. “Drink something and be ready to fight again. Go.”
Váli scooped up his sword and rushed toward us, covered head to toe in mud. He vaulted himself over the fence and sat down next to Narvi. “Did you see me? I’m getting good.”
“You’ll soon be mightier than the Allfather himself.” Loki pinched Váli’s chin, wiping the mud from the boy’s cheeks.
“Father,” Váli moaned, wriggling away from his grip. “Leave me alone.”
“What’s this? Too good to be seen with your old man? What a shame; I’ll have to make a scene.” Despite all the mud, Loki pulled Váli in for a dramatic hug, lifting him off the fence. “You’re just so adorable, my precious little man. How I love you!”
“Ah, just who I was looking for.”
We all turned. Odin strode toward us, rain slicking down his decorative gold and grey armour. One of his ravens cawed from his shoulder and flew off as he approached.
Loki put Váli on his feet and stepped in front of him. “Grimnir. What brings you out in this weather?”
Odin put his hands on the fence and gazed out at all his einherjar, fighting and slicking the ground with each other’s blood. “I hear the horse is ready for riding.”
Loki tensed beside me, and as he stepped forward, I pressed a hand against his chest, holding him back. “Father, you can’t take Sleipnir. He’s not just a horse.”
“You’re right, he’s not.” Odin turned his head, so he could see us all with that one eye. “He’s faster than any other beast in our stables and faster than those cats Freya keeps. Sleipnir could be the difference between victory and failure in the battles to come. There are bandits on the roads to Vanaheim again. We could get news to the city without a chance of it being intercepted. Who can shoot an arrow as fast as Sleipnir can run?”
“No.” Loki’s chest heaved under my hand, deep, tempered breaths. “You can’t just take my son as your pack horse. I won’t let you.”
“Yeah!” Váli leapt out from behind Loki’s legs, his wooden sword pointed at Odin. “That’s my brother. He stays with us!”
“Váli, no.” I knelt down to look him in the eyes, brushing a loose curl from his face. “We’re going to handle this, alright? Don’t you worry. Go back to your training, please.” I hauled him up and over the fence, nudging him forward. He looked back, considering his options, then trudged back to Tyr.
I pulled Narvi into my arms, eyes on Odin. “There has to be another way.”
“Sleipnir is coming with me, one way or the other. If you bring him willingly, your family will have full access to the stables whenever you want it. If you don’t, you’ll never be let within an acre of him. I would think this would be an easy choice.”
“You can’t have him.” Loki’s knife was at Odin’s throat before I could stop it, the point tucked under his chin. “I could kill you here, and the realms would be better for it.”
The skirmishing quieted around us, all eyes on the would-be killers of Odin, an army of einherjar inching closer. Narvi whimpered, tucking his head into my chest. I held him to me, as tightly as I could. “Loki.”
“You pretend to be almighty and benevolent, but you and I know better, don’t we? We know the blood you’ve soaked me in.” Loki pushed the dagger up, and Odin raised his head, a drop of red running down the blade. “Why don’t we end it right now, hmm? What do you think, Hangi?”
Odin’s smile was as dark and foreboding as I’d ever seen it. “Would you kill me in front of your children? Their grandfather? Then they’d really know who you are.”
“I’d be doing them a favour,” Loki hissed.
The einherjar were nearly at the fence. Tyr had his hands clenched on Váli’s shoulders, like a warning. I reached out, heart racing, and put my hand on Loki. “Don’t.”
He didn’t turn to look at me. “Why not, Sig? What good has he ever done you? You have no idea what he’s done. What he hides.”
“If you kill him,” I spoke slowly, trying to keep him calm, “they’ll kill us all.”
“What price will you pay today, Loki?” The blade bit into Odin as he spoke, but he barely winced. “One horse or your whole family?”
“You’re a fucking monster.”
“Loki. Please, let’s go home.”
I could barely breathe. Loki was going to do it. We were going to die. It was now or never.
I took a deep breath and whispered a light variant on the sleep runes.
The blade fell away as his arm sagged, Loki’s whole body slumping into half slumber. He stumbled back, and I put my arm out to catch him. He blinked heavily, trying to fight what I’d done.
Narvi reached up from my arms and put his hands on Loki’s cheeks. Both of their eyes were red with tears. “It’s alright, Father. We’ll go home now, okay?”
Loki nodded, kissing one of Narvi’s hands. “We’ll go home.” He met my eyes and straightened out, doing a horrible job of looking composed. “Come on, Váli.” He waved the boy over.
Tyr let go of his shoulders, and Váli darted to us, hopping nimbly up the fence, and reached for Loki’s hand. They took the first wobbling steps forward, away from Odin. Narvi and I followed, the four of us pushing past the seething wall of einherjar that had gathered around us.