The Littlest Valkyrie
Title:The Littlest Valkyrie
Rating:R
Warnings:None
Summary: Joshua learns a little about life on Asgard, Thor informs Sif and Volstagg of his nephew's arrival. Loki receives a proposal from Thanos via Gamora, who is rather surprised by the answer he gives.
Joshua had never thought much about the subject of grandparents. Having grown up in the manner that he did, grandparents were practically fictional characters in his mind; the old, kindly sort of people that showed up in plays, books and movies on holidays and sat in corners, smiling and patting cheeks - either that, or they appeared only at their own funerals. He certainly never expected to meet his own; but, here he was. He remembered Odin and Frigga from last night, but it had been late and he was still reeling in shock from the fact that he had been stolen from his father, left on Earth - Midgard - and these people had been none the wiser. That spoke volumes to him; he'd certainly notice if someone important in his life started acting strangely. Perhaps the strange thing was that his grandmother looked much younger than his grandfather.
“Now then.” Odin began, speaking to Joshua as if he were five. “What sort of schooling have you had?”
“I have never attended school formally, sir.” He decided he would call Odin 'sir' until he felt otherwise. “I was taught how to read a hundred years ago by a missionary, after that, I became self taught.” He frowned. “Unless you count the training I received to become a fighter pilot during the Second World War as schooling.”
The man frowned at him. “So you can read, write, and know some mathematics?”
“Yes.” He barely kept the venom out of his voice. “I'm not exactly certain....” He was cut off as Natasha poked him. He shot her a glance and saw that her face was perfectly passive, but there was a slight twinkle in her eye. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I can read and write - and as for mathematics, I recently started teaching myself advanced calculus.”
That made one of Odin's eyebrows lift. “Indeed.” He cleared his throat. “Natasha, do you have any objections to your brother joining you at lessons?”
“No, grandfather.” She managed a smile. “Not at all.”
“While I have no doubts that you are a man of above average intelligence, Joshua, the fact that your education is purely Midgardian that will require you to study with your sister for a while.” He picked up his teacup. “I was not informed of your most recent employment before you came here.”
“Farm hand, sir.” Joshua pulled his most proud looking face, resisting the urge to put his nose in the air. “I've been shearing sheep for the past six weeks. Before that, I was picking fruit. I've been working such jobs for the five years. When I'm not working the land, I work in construction. Would you like to see the opera house I helped build?”
His grandmother smothered a giggle in her teacup. What was so funny?
“Indeed.” Odin set his cup back down. “I will send word to Master Siry to return to the palace the beginning of next week. Until then, I want you to become familiar with the layout of the grounds.” He glanced at Natasha. “You are to help him, understood?”
“Yes, Grandfather.” There was something in the way she said it that Joshua almost laughed.
Grandmother cleared her throat. “We are still looking into the manner of how you were taken from Asgard. We are no closer to finding out who is responsible than we are to where your brother and other sister are.” She smiled faintly. “I do not suppose you recall anything, do you?”
Joshua shook his head. “No, I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“It is not your fault.” She sighed. “Have a good day, darlings. We will see you both at dinner.”
“Good day, Grandmother, good day, Grandfather.” Natasha replied, sounding exactly like a girl reciting her sums.
“Good day.” Joshua didn't add names, and he caught an odd look that Odin gave him; perhaps it was his imagination. He and his sister went out into the hallway. “Is it always like that?”
“Like what?” Natasha asked.
“So... formal. Is it always so formal?” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Seems...it just seems cold, that's all.”
“I think it's a matter of getting used to a new situation.” She sighed. “When I came here, Papochka had to reassure Grandfather that he hadn't stolen me.”
He frowned. “Why would he think that?”
“Because well, Papochka sort of stole me. I was taken from a military facility in Russia. I don't like talk about what went on there. I'm...” She took a breath. “I was the one that survived. The bad people there killed all the other girls.”
“If even half the stuff I've heard about what goes on in the USSR is true, I don't doubt that.” He shuddered. “Some sort of government experiment then, huh? What, are you like the Russian equivalent of Captain America? Wait, you don't know who that is...”
“I don't know if that's what I am or not. And I do know who Captain America is. I have a comic book signed by him in my room.” She grinned up at him. “So where would you like to begin your tour?”
“Why don't you start with where we're supposed to eat dinner tonight? Just in case we don't leave our rooms at the same time?” He chuckled. “I may have to draw a map to get around here.”
“Oh, it's not so hard.” She skipped down the corridor stopping three doors down. “The confusing thing is that a lot of rooms have multiple doors.” She pushed the door open as he drew level with her and he found himself looking into a large dining room, with one chair on the far side, one on each end, and two on the side nearest them. “We might be eating in here tonight, they've already added your chair.”
“We sit on the near side then?” He frowned at the ornate room. “They could seat two dozen at this table.”
Natasha made a face. “Yes, we sit on the near side. This table's nothing. There's a few in the feasting hall that can seat three times that amount.”
“That must be noisy.” He shut the door. “All right.” He turned to the door directly across from them. “Why is that door glowing?”
She let out a sigh. “That's Papochka's room. Grandmother sealed them. She won't let anyone go in there. Not even me.”
He gave her a sideways hug. “I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. Each day that goes by is one day closer to him coming home.” She gave him a half smile. “The feasting hall is this way.” She took his hand and led him away.
*
“What do you think of him, Fandral?” Thor asked, adjusting his vambraces.
“I believe he's far more dangerous than he looks.” The blond warrior shook his head. “And I'm only saying that because anyone who has survived that long on Midgard is not someone I'd want to make angry.”
“He informed me last night that he's fought in wars, although he did not wish to talk about them much.” He frowned. “I believe it makes him sad. All of his comrades are long dead.”
“That would make anyone sad.” Fandral replied as Sif and Volstagg came up to them. “Why do I feel as if we have been in this situation before?”
“What?” Volstagg chuckled as he looked the two of them over. “Fandral, where were you yesterday? We missed you!”
Sif snorted. “Some of us missed him.”
“Lady Sif, I am hurt.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “I had a duty to perform.” He gave Thor a sideways glance. “But the news is not mine to share.”
“Thor?” Volstagg set his axe down. “What news?”
“Fandral returned to Asgard last night with one of Loki's missing children.” He gave a half grin. “So it seems I now have a niece and a nephew.”
“Indeed!” The older warrior thumped him on the back. “Where did you go on Midgard, Fandral? It is as we remember?”
“I was in a desolate place.” He shuddered. “The earth was red and the heat was...” He shook his head. “It was not the nicest place of that realm, I can assure you that.”
“Oh, it can't be all that bad.” Thor interjected. “Joshua informed me that this Australia place is actually quite nice.”
“Joshua?” Sif stated. “That's an odd name.”
“According to legend, there was a great warrior named Joshua of Midgard. He once marched his army around a city for six days, pounding drums and on the seventh day, he ordered the trumpeters to play, and when they did, the walls of the city collapsed and he and his army claimed a victory.” Thor stated, smiling. “He is quiet, much like Loki is.”
“I am looking forward to meeting him.” Volstagg replied. “Do you know if he will be down here on the training grounds today?”
“When I asked after him this morning,I was told that Natasha was taking him around the palace, so I do not believe so, not unless she brings him by on her tour.” He grinned, feeling honestly happy for the first time in several weeks. “Which tells me she will be by later in the afternoon. It depends on how long they remain in the stables.”
Sif let out a tiny chuckle. “Given how much time your niece spends in there, Joshua will be lucky to have lunch.”
*
“This place reminds me of a rabbit warren.” Joshua remarked as they turned down another corridor. “I should have brought along a notebook so I could draw a map.”
Natasha stopped and leaned against a pillar. “I'm sorry, I'm not showing you too much, am I?”
“No, I just...” He frowned, looking back the way they had come. “How did you learn all these passageways when you first came?”
“By remembering the artwork.” She took a few steps back and gestured to the massive tapestry that was hanging on the wall. “Even before I knew what they were called, I remembered things about them. This work's official name is 'The Great Flood of Alfheim' but to me, it's always the 'The One With the Purple Tassels'.” She pointed to the bundles of thread that that ringed the weaving that were many colors, but were predominantly a deep shade of aubergine.
He chuckled in response. “That makes sense. So then, Sasha, what's down this hallway?”
She gave him a grin. “You'll see.” They headed down the corridor, they were deep within the palace now, he knew that, when they passed the long windows, there were buildings visible on both sides of the passageway, the small courtyards between them had short, ornamental trees that barely reached the second panes of the windows. “We could have entered the next place through another door, but for a first look, the main doors are the best.”
“Oh?” Joshua tried to remember how many doors they had passed, but it was all a bit of a blur. They also hadn't passed a guard next to one lately either. “How deep are in into the palace?”
“We're not, actually. We're almost at the extreme northern side. The corridor with our chambers is on the southern side, the feasting hall is on the western side, the main entrance is on the eastern side. The throne room is near the center.” She paused as they came to a pair of double doors. “I'll show you a shortcut back to our chambers afterward so we can go eat lunch.” She took hold of one of the carved handles and pulled it backward. Joshua took hold of the frame over her head so he could help. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome, now what's...” His question died in his throat as they stepped into the room. He felt his jaw drop as he stepped past his sister and took in the sight before him. Natasha had brought him to a library. Not just a library, the room instantly became the Library. That word needed to become a proper noun in describing this place. The far side of the room was, well it was so damn far away that he wasn't sure where it was. It spread out on both sides, and when he came forward, he could see that the two buildings that had been on the other side of the windows in the corridor, were, in fact, part of the Library as well. He turned his gaze upward, seeing that the stacks continued for five stories. “Is this Heaven?” He whispered and then let out a startled yelp as something pinched his arm. “What?”
“I'm only proving to you that you're not dead or dreaming.” Natasha looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. “This place is real.”
“How... how many books are in this place?” He ran his fingers along the nearest shelf, still struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. He'd seen pictures of the United States' Library of Congress, but even this seemed to dwarf it.
“I do not know.” She replied, “I mean, not an exact number.” She rubbed her nose. “Thousands, if not millions of books from nearly every realm.” She suddenly straightened up. “You can help sort out the books from Midgard!”
“What do you mean?” He frowned. “Aren't they sorted all ready?”
“They are, but the trouble is, many of the library workers find it difficult separating the fiction from the non-fiction.” She rubbed her nose. “There aren't many works from Midgard, well, by many I mean there's under four thousand.”
“Four thousand?” Joshua gasped. “That's not many?”
“Not compared to other realms. I believe there's something close to two million from Vanaheim.” She rubbed her nose. “And there's almost nothing from Jotunheim. Somewhere around fifty or sixty, and it's all fiction.” She sighed.
“Still...” He turned in slow circles. “I should have known there was a library in this grand place.” He stopped and frowned. “Where is everyone?”
“What do you mean?” Natasha came up to him, looking around. “It's not empty.” She indicated the group of young women at one table and then gestured to a guard in sitting at at table, leafing through a massive folio, his helmet resting beside him.
“This isn't private, it is? So many books, this is the sort of place that should be busy.” He frowned. “Or are all the children in school, or something?”
“Many people on Asgard don't read.” She sighed. “It's sad, but true.”
“Don't read or can't read?” He queried.
“Both.” She looked down. “I do not understand it myself.”
“Neither do I.” He let out a breath and then grimaced as his stomach grumbled. “I believe it's time we found some lunch, Natasha.”
“All right.” She took his hand and led him out a side door. “I'll show you the stables after we eat.”
**
“Are you awake?” The voice was right next to Loki's ear and he inclined his head slightly in response, and a moment later, a sponge, drenched in water was held to his lips. He closed his mouth around the material and suckled from it slightly, and a hand came to the back of his neck, helping him drink. The cool liquid slipped down his throat and returned some of his strength, wearily, he opened his eyes, and found himself looking up into Gamora's wan face. A massive bruise marred her left cheek and she looked more sad and miserable than angry.
“Thank you.” He answered as she took the sponge away.
“You're welcome.” She tucked a strand of hair out of his face, her expression unchanged. “I've been told that you have three options. One, you can give up the information my father requires and be killed. Two, you can continue to refuse my father's orders and be killed.” She soaked the sponge again and held it to his mouth. “Or three, you can join with my father and live.”
“How old are you Gamora?” Loki coughed and adjusted how he was standing, so he could relieve some of the weight on his wrists.
“Thirteen, as Terrans measure things.” She steeled her face up. “It does not matter.” She replied as he drank. “And it is no concern of yours.”
“What would Thanos want of me. I assure you, I am no one's court jester.” He coughed as she took the sponge away.
“My father doesn't have a sense of humor.” She frowned. “Neither do I.”
“Oh really?” Loki smiled ruefully. “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“What is a chicken?” She spat.
“Exactly.” He replied, chuckling weakly.
“I do not see how...” She paused and then, a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips that vanished almost instantly and started to wash his face.“My father believes I am in need of a personal trainer in regards to interrogation, hand to hand combat, and other necessary skills for an assassin. As a prince of Asgard, you, no doubt, have more than enough knowledge to tutor me in these arts.”
“So Thanos wishes me to teach you how to become a better weapon.” He frowned. “And in return, I'm let out of these chains and get to continue to breathe.”
“Yes.” She frowned. “He has put the Tesseract out of his mind for now and is currently searching for something else.” She glared at him. “Do you know where the Aether is?”
“No.” He replied, with perfect honesty. “Now there was a pleasant bedtime story. Malekith's Great Folly.” He snorted. “It sounds amusing, but considering it cost two billion dark elves their lives, it's nothing short of tragic. Svartalfheim laid almost completely to waste, save for a small city on the far side of the realm.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, their disaster recovery is so appalling, it makes Jotunheim look like Midgard.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” She frowned. “I do not understand.”
“Quite simple, Gamora. Thirty or so years ago, the inhabitants of Midgard were engaged in a global war that left many cities in ruins. Since then, most of the cities have been almost completely rebuilt. While the scars remain, life as gone on and places have been rebuilt.” He coughed and she held the sponge to his lips again.
“Terrans, or Midgardians, whatever they are, don't live that long. They don't have a choice.” She spat.
“Yes, they do. They could just build elsewhere. But they clean up, they clear away, they rise from the ashes. Resilient little bipeds.” He sighed. “That's how they are. But the dark elves had their world destroyed when my father was younger than I am now. They still haven't sorted through all the rubble yet. Jotunheim's war happened when I was an infant; they have rebuilt and have gotten back on their feet, so they say. Svartalfheim, for all extents and purposes, have merely just sat back up.”
She frowned. “I do not see how any of this ties into the Aether.”
“I'm merely stating that I have no more idea where the Aether is than I know what my daughter is having for lunch on Asgard, that is all.” He stood up, groaning. “I have no doubt that you will be a good student. You seem like a smart girl.”
“Thank you.” She knelt to remove the chains from the manacles on his ankles and then did the same to his wrists, and caught him before he collapsed. “I'm to take you see my father.”
“I had a feeling you were.” He found his feet and they started forward. “Do lessons start this afternoon or do I have a day to prepare a lesson plan?”
“You're agreeing to all this. Why?” Gamora held him out at arm's length. “After all the defiance, why be compliant now?”
“You want to kill me then, Gamora?” He pulled away and held out his arms. “I am unarmed and weak. Feel free to attack and leave me for dead.”
She glowered at him. “Whatever you're planning, it will not work.”
“I am planning nothing.” He stated. “I have only just been released.” This was only a partial lie. In truth, his mind was already working on a release. When Gamora had listed the third option, he knew that it meant at least partial freedom. Thanos would not keep the girl locked up on this place forever. Loki knew she would need 'practical' training and the like. It might take a while, and it would require him to give the performance of his life, but he would get out of here - and take Gamora with him. The fact that there would be innocent people harmed and killed in the endeavor... it was, tragically, a price that would have to be paid. He knew he had to return to Asgard and warn them that Thanos was after the Infinity Gems, and then who knew what.
“I do not like this.” They left the cell and Loki blinked in the bright light of the corridor. “I do...”
“You wish me to just be killed then?” Loki shrugged. “I can change my answer before we reach your father, if you like.”
“I do...” She let out a frustrated noise and ran her hands through her hair. “I don't know what I want!”
“Of course you don't, you're a teenager.” He stated as if he was telling her that her skin was green. “You're not supposed to know what you want. You're supposed to try things and figure things out, mess up, pick yourself up after a good cry and begin again. Quite frankly, if I ran into someone of your age who had iron clad convictions, I'd be torn between horror and pity.”
“Pity? Why?” She shook her head. “Are you always going to be so contradictory?”
“Yes, Gamora.” He smirked as they came to the end of the corridor. “Of that, you can be quite certain. You will need to know how to see the emotions of a blank face, hear the words that are left unsaid and much more.”
She straightened her shoulders, and he could see that she was trying to form a blank face, and failing tremendously - but he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“It's perfectly fine to be excited by the prospect of learning, Gamora. There is nothing a teacher adores more than a willing and eager pupil.” His grin widened as she smiled at his words.
**
Natasha had planned on taking her brother to the stables after lunch, but while they were eating, Grandmother had joined them and stated that Joshua needed to be fitted for new clothes. While he had tried to protest that he had clothes of his own, she countered that he needed proper clothes. She sympathized with him, she hadn't seen any issue with what he'd been wearing, but what the two of them thought and the rest of Asgard thought were two entirely different things.
She ran her fingers along the strings of her harp, sighing. She adjusted a few of the pegs before sitting down and started to work on her scales, her mind drifting back to the Mister Stark's party and all the guests who had complimented her on her playing, while they told Tony how big he was getting. That was such a dumb comment. What else were children supposed to do with their appearance other than get bigger? She might pick out her dress nearly every morning, but nearly all of her garments had been selected by a grown-up.
“Natasha?” A voice called and she set her hands on the strings to silence them, and she instantly stood.
“Good afternoon, Grandfather.” She bit her lip. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing's wrong.” He sat down on one of the easy chairs in her room, sighing. “Where is your brother?”
“Grandmother is with Joshua, he's getting fitted.” She sat back down. “Did I miss something?”
“No, Natasha, you haven't.” He had an odd look on his face, the same sort of look Uncle Thor used to get before he admitted to not doing his reading, or something similar. “I am hoping you can help me with something.”
“What is it?” She set her hands in her lap, trying to think what her grandfather could possibly need her help with.
“Are you aware of how the treaty with Jotunheim works?” He lifted his chin, smiling faintly.
“I know that King Laufey is not allowed to leave his realm, they cannot have an army above a certain size, and in return, Heimdall is only allowed to give fleeting glances on Jotunheim.” She frowned. “And almost all of Asgard's information the realm comes second-hand.”
“True.” He smiled. “Now, as we suspect your father's two other children are on Jotunheim, it would be beneficial to know more about the realm, and what has occurred there since the war.”
She rubbed her nose. “I thought you were in contact with King Laufey, Grandfather.”
“It is only formal and not direct.” He took a breath. “I am proposing that we go to Jotunheim to inform him of what we know and to begin the search there.”
“We?” Her mind raced, trying to understand what he'd just said. “Meaning?”
“You and I are going to go to Jotunheim, Natasha. Why is it better of the two of us go and not ambassadors?”
“Because if something happened to an ambassador, the jotun could, theoretically, pass it off as a tragic accident. However, if something were to happen to either of us, the jotun would basically be waving their spears and asking Asgard to attack.” She gave him a small smile. “Correct?”
“Yes.” He tapped his fingers on the table, looking around the room for a moment, as if there was something more he wished to know. “Granted, we are not going to be leaving for Jotunheim soon, not until after the Yule.”
She nodded in understanding. “Um... you haven't told Grandmother yet, have you?”
“What makes you say that?” He asked, with a wry grin.
“Because Grandmother will need to be convinced before the privy council will.” She went pink and fully expected a reprimand for sassing.
Instead, Grandfather chuckled. “Clever girl.” He cleared his throat. “And that is another reason I came to speak with you. I need for you to speak to the privy council about the government of Jotunheim. I understand you studied while on Vanaheim?”
She nodded. “But aren't there, I don't know...”
“Natasha, unlike many of the people who sit on the council, you do not have an old warrior's bias, or any sort of prejudice against the jotun. You are also the only person currently in Asgard who has met with any of King Laufey's family.” Grandfather sighed and stood up. “Also, given what education you have received, you can explain it better, I for one do not understand how....oh, those islands...”
“The Seven Spears, Grandfather.” Natasha interjected.
“Yes, the Seven Spears...” He frowned. “Do you understand how their government works?”
“They're a constitutional monarchy. Well, sort of. Collectively, they're a confederacy, they each govern themselves, but on large matters, such a defense and inter-realm trade, they have a group of representatives that meet to discuss such things. They acknowledge that his majesty, King Laufey, is the leader of Jotunheim, but in the Seven Spears, that role, as they say on Midgard, is basically waving in a parade, kissing babies and making a speech on important holidays.”
Grandfather managed a weak smile. “See, even I did not know that.”
“Could I have my atlas back?” She worried her bottom lip. “I might be able to explain the Seven Spears better by using Midgardian islands of similar size as examples.”
“Of course you may, Natasha.” He came over and ruffled her hair. “I do not even know the names of the islands and....”
“Myrlyr, Pralt, Cendal, Lescynsr, Nysly, Qnther and Ynasl.” She recited, more automatically than intentionally.
He chuckled. “Clever girl. Do you think you can have something prepared to present to the council this time next week?”
“Yes, Grandfather.” She nodded, her mind already planning on where to start. Once she had her atlas back, she could start working in earnest.
“Good girl.” He touched her cheek and headed for the door. “I will see you at dinner.”
“Yes, sir.” She called towards his retreating form and let out a breath as he closed the door. “Oh, Papochka, I fear I'm about to get in way over my head.” She hit her head against her harp, letting out a weak chuckle that swiftly turned to tears. Her father hadn't even been missing for half a year, and it already felt like a decade.
Rating:R
Warnings:None
Summary: Joshua learns a little about life on Asgard, Thor informs Sif and Volstagg of his nephew's arrival. Loki receives a proposal from Thanos via Gamora, who is rather surprised by the answer he gives.
Joshua had never thought much about the subject of grandparents. Having grown up in the manner that he did, grandparents were practically fictional characters in his mind; the old, kindly sort of people that showed up in plays, books and movies on holidays and sat in corners, smiling and patting cheeks - either that, or they appeared only at their own funerals. He certainly never expected to meet his own; but, here he was. He remembered Odin and Frigga from last night, but it had been late and he was still reeling in shock from the fact that he had been stolen from his father, left on Earth - Midgard - and these people had been none the wiser. That spoke volumes to him; he'd certainly notice if someone important in his life started acting strangely. Perhaps the strange thing was that his grandmother looked much younger than his grandfather.
“Now then.” Odin began, speaking to Joshua as if he were five. “What sort of schooling have you had?”
“I have never attended school formally, sir.” He decided he would call Odin 'sir' until he felt otherwise. “I was taught how to read a hundred years ago by a missionary, after that, I became self taught.” He frowned. “Unless you count the training I received to become a fighter pilot during the Second World War as schooling.”
The man frowned at him. “So you can read, write, and know some mathematics?”
“Yes.” He barely kept the venom out of his voice. “I'm not exactly certain....” He was cut off as Natasha poked him. He shot her a glance and saw that her face was perfectly passive, but there was a slight twinkle in her eye. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I can read and write - and as for mathematics, I recently started teaching myself advanced calculus.”
That made one of Odin's eyebrows lift. “Indeed.” He cleared his throat. “Natasha, do you have any objections to your brother joining you at lessons?”
“No, grandfather.” She managed a smile. “Not at all.”
“While I have no doubts that you are a man of above average intelligence, Joshua, the fact that your education is purely Midgardian that will require you to study with your sister for a while.” He picked up his teacup. “I was not informed of your most recent employment before you came here.”
“Farm hand, sir.” Joshua pulled his most proud looking face, resisting the urge to put his nose in the air. “I've been shearing sheep for the past six weeks. Before that, I was picking fruit. I've been working such jobs for the five years. When I'm not working the land, I work in construction. Would you like to see the opera house I helped build?”
His grandmother smothered a giggle in her teacup. What was so funny?
“Indeed.” Odin set his cup back down. “I will send word to Master Siry to return to the palace the beginning of next week. Until then, I want you to become familiar with the layout of the grounds.” He glanced at Natasha. “You are to help him, understood?”
“Yes, Grandfather.” There was something in the way she said it that Joshua almost laughed.
Grandmother cleared her throat. “We are still looking into the manner of how you were taken from Asgard. We are no closer to finding out who is responsible than we are to where your brother and other sister are.” She smiled faintly. “I do not suppose you recall anything, do you?”
Joshua shook his head. “No, I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“It is not your fault.” She sighed. “Have a good day, darlings. We will see you both at dinner.”
“Good day, Grandmother, good day, Grandfather.” Natasha replied, sounding exactly like a girl reciting her sums.
“Good day.” Joshua didn't add names, and he caught an odd look that Odin gave him; perhaps it was his imagination. He and his sister went out into the hallway. “Is it always like that?”
“Like what?” Natasha asked.
“So... formal. Is it always so formal?” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Seems...it just seems cold, that's all.”
“I think it's a matter of getting used to a new situation.” She sighed. “When I came here, Papochka had to reassure Grandfather that he hadn't stolen me.”
He frowned. “Why would he think that?”
“Because well, Papochka sort of stole me. I was taken from a military facility in Russia. I don't like talk about what went on there. I'm...” She took a breath. “I was the one that survived. The bad people there killed all the other girls.”
“If even half the stuff I've heard about what goes on in the USSR is true, I don't doubt that.” He shuddered. “Some sort of government experiment then, huh? What, are you like the Russian equivalent of Captain America? Wait, you don't know who that is...”
“I don't know if that's what I am or not. And I do know who Captain America is. I have a comic book signed by him in my room.” She grinned up at him. “So where would you like to begin your tour?”
“Why don't you start with where we're supposed to eat dinner tonight? Just in case we don't leave our rooms at the same time?” He chuckled. “I may have to draw a map to get around here.”
“Oh, it's not so hard.” She skipped down the corridor stopping three doors down. “The confusing thing is that a lot of rooms have multiple doors.” She pushed the door open as he drew level with her and he found himself looking into a large dining room, with one chair on the far side, one on each end, and two on the side nearest them. “We might be eating in here tonight, they've already added your chair.”
“We sit on the near side then?” He frowned at the ornate room. “They could seat two dozen at this table.”
Natasha made a face. “Yes, we sit on the near side. This table's nothing. There's a few in the feasting hall that can seat three times that amount.”
“That must be noisy.” He shut the door. “All right.” He turned to the door directly across from them. “Why is that door glowing?”
She let out a sigh. “That's Papochka's room. Grandmother sealed them. She won't let anyone go in there. Not even me.”
He gave her a sideways hug. “I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. Each day that goes by is one day closer to him coming home.” She gave him a half smile. “The feasting hall is this way.” She took his hand and led him away.
*
“What do you think of him, Fandral?” Thor asked, adjusting his vambraces.
“I believe he's far more dangerous than he looks.” The blond warrior shook his head. “And I'm only saying that because anyone who has survived that long on Midgard is not someone I'd want to make angry.”
“He informed me last night that he's fought in wars, although he did not wish to talk about them much.” He frowned. “I believe it makes him sad. All of his comrades are long dead.”
“That would make anyone sad.” Fandral replied as Sif and Volstagg came up to them. “Why do I feel as if we have been in this situation before?”
“What?” Volstagg chuckled as he looked the two of them over. “Fandral, where were you yesterday? We missed you!”
Sif snorted. “Some of us missed him.”
“Lady Sif, I am hurt.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “I had a duty to perform.” He gave Thor a sideways glance. “But the news is not mine to share.”
“Thor?” Volstagg set his axe down. “What news?”
“Fandral returned to Asgard last night with one of Loki's missing children.” He gave a half grin. “So it seems I now have a niece and a nephew.”
“Indeed!” The older warrior thumped him on the back. “Where did you go on Midgard, Fandral? It is as we remember?”
“I was in a desolate place.” He shuddered. “The earth was red and the heat was...” He shook his head. “It was not the nicest place of that realm, I can assure you that.”
“Oh, it can't be all that bad.” Thor interjected. “Joshua informed me that this Australia place is actually quite nice.”
“Joshua?” Sif stated. “That's an odd name.”
“According to legend, there was a great warrior named Joshua of Midgard. He once marched his army around a city for six days, pounding drums and on the seventh day, he ordered the trumpeters to play, and when they did, the walls of the city collapsed and he and his army claimed a victory.” Thor stated, smiling. “He is quiet, much like Loki is.”
“I am looking forward to meeting him.” Volstagg replied. “Do you know if he will be down here on the training grounds today?”
“When I asked after him this morning,I was told that Natasha was taking him around the palace, so I do not believe so, not unless she brings him by on her tour.” He grinned, feeling honestly happy for the first time in several weeks. “Which tells me she will be by later in the afternoon. It depends on how long they remain in the stables.”
Sif let out a tiny chuckle. “Given how much time your niece spends in there, Joshua will be lucky to have lunch.”
*
“This place reminds me of a rabbit warren.” Joshua remarked as they turned down another corridor. “I should have brought along a notebook so I could draw a map.”
Natasha stopped and leaned against a pillar. “I'm sorry, I'm not showing you too much, am I?”
“No, I just...” He frowned, looking back the way they had come. “How did you learn all these passageways when you first came?”
“By remembering the artwork.” She took a few steps back and gestured to the massive tapestry that was hanging on the wall. “Even before I knew what they were called, I remembered things about them. This work's official name is 'The Great Flood of Alfheim' but to me, it's always the 'The One With the Purple Tassels'.” She pointed to the bundles of thread that that ringed the weaving that were many colors, but were predominantly a deep shade of aubergine.
He chuckled in response. “That makes sense. So then, Sasha, what's down this hallway?”
She gave him a grin. “You'll see.” They headed down the corridor, they were deep within the palace now, he knew that, when they passed the long windows, there were buildings visible on both sides of the passageway, the small courtyards between them had short, ornamental trees that barely reached the second panes of the windows. “We could have entered the next place through another door, but for a first look, the main doors are the best.”
“Oh?” Joshua tried to remember how many doors they had passed, but it was all a bit of a blur. They also hadn't passed a guard next to one lately either. “How deep are in into the palace?”
“We're not, actually. We're almost at the extreme northern side. The corridor with our chambers is on the southern side, the feasting hall is on the western side, the main entrance is on the eastern side. The throne room is near the center.” She paused as they came to a pair of double doors. “I'll show you a shortcut back to our chambers afterward so we can go eat lunch.” She took hold of one of the carved handles and pulled it backward. Joshua took hold of the frame over her head so he could help. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome, now what's...” His question died in his throat as they stepped into the room. He felt his jaw drop as he stepped past his sister and took in the sight before him. Natasha had brought him to a library. Not just a library, the room instantly became the Library. That word needed to become a proper noun in describing this place. The far side of the room was, well it was so damn far away that he wasn't sure where it was. It spread out on both sides, and when he came forward, he could see that the two buildings that had been on the other side of the windows in the corridor, were, in fact, part of the Library as well. He turned his gaze upward, seeing that the stacks continued for five stories. “Is this Heaven?” He whispered and then let out a startled yelp as something pinched his arm. “What?”
“I'm only proving to you that you're not dead or dreaming.” Natasha looked up at him, smiling sheepishly. “This place is real.”
“How... how many books are in this place?” He ran his fingers along the nearest shelf, still struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. He'd seen pictures of the United States' Library of Congress, but even this seemed to dwarf it.
“I do not know.” She replied, “I mean, not an exact number.” She rubbed her nose. “Thousands, if not millions of books from nearly every realm.” She suddenly straightened up. “You can help sort out the books from Midgard!”
“What do you mean?” He frowned. “Aren't they sorted all ready?”
“They are, but the trouble is, many of the library workers find it difficult separating the fiction from the non-fiction.” She rubbed her nose. “There aren't many works from Midgard, well, by many I mean there's under four thousand.”
“Four thousand?” Joshua gasped. “That's not many?”
“Not compared to other realms. I believe there's something close to two million from Vanaheim.” She rubbed her nose. “And there's almost nothing from Jotunheim. Somewhere around fifty or sixty, and it's all fiction.” She sighed.
“Still...” He turned in slow circles. “I should have known there was a library in this grand place.” He stopped and frowned. “Where is everyone?”
“What do you mean?” Natasha came up to him, looking around. “It's not empty.” She indicated the group of young women at one table and then gestured to a guard in sitting at at table, leafing through a massive folio, his helmet resting beside him.
“This isn't private, it is? So many books, this is the sort of place that should be busy.” He frowned. “Or are all the children in school, or something?”
“Many people on Asgard don't read.” She sighed. “It's sad, but true.”
“Don't read or can't read?” He queried.
“Both.” She looked down. “I do not understand it myself.”
“Neither do I.” He let out a breath and then grimaced as his stomach grumbled. “I believe it's time we found some lunch, Natasha.”
“All right.” She took his hand and led him out a side door. “I'll show you the stables after we eat.”
**
“Are you awake?” The voice was right next to Loki's ear and he inclined his head slightly in response, and a moment later, a sponge, drenched in water was held to his lips. He closed his mouth around the material and suckled from it slightly, and a hand came to the back of his neck, helping him drink. The cool liquid slipped down his throat and returned some of his strength, wearily, he opened his eyes, and found himself looking up into Gamora's wan face. A massive bruise marred her left cheek and she looked more sad and miserable than angry.
“Thank you.” He answered as she took the sponge away.
“You're welcome.” She tucked a strand of hair out of his face, her expression unchanged. “I've been told that you have three options. One, you can give up the information my father requires and be killed. Two, you can continue to refuse my father's orders and be killed.” She soaked the sponge again and held it to his mouth. “Or three, you can join with my father and live.”
“How old are you Gamora?” Loki coughed and adjusted how he was standing, so he could relieve some of the weight on his wrists.
“Thirteen, as Terrans measure things.” She steeled her face up. “It does not matter.” She replied as he drank. “And it is no concern of yours.”
“What would Thanos want of me. I assure you, I am no one's court jester.” He coughed as she took the sponge away.
“My father doesn't have a sense of humor.” She frowned. “Neither do I.”
“Oh really?” Loki smiled ruefully. “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“What is a chicken?” She spat.
“Exactly.” He replied, chuckling weakly.
“I do not see how...” She paused and then, a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips that vanished almost instantly and started to wash his face.“My father believes I am in need of a personal trainer in regards to interrogation, hand to hand combat, and other necessary skills for an assassin. As a prince of Asgard, you, no doubt, have more than enough knowledge to tutor me in these arts.”
“So Thanos wishes me to teach you how to become a better weapon.” He frowned. “And in return, I'm let out of these chains and get to continue to breathe.”
“Yes.” She frowned. “He has put the Tesseract out of his mind for now and is currently searching for something else.” She glared at him. “Do you know where the Aether is?”
“No.” He replied, with perfect honesty. “Now there was a pleasant bedtime story. Malekith's Great Folly.” He snorted. “It sounds amusing, but considering it cost two billion dark elves their lives, it's nothing short of tragic. Svartalfheim laid almost completely to waste, save for a small city on the far side of the realm.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, their disaster recovery is so appalling, it makes Jotunheim look like Midgard.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” She frowned. “I do not understand.”
“Quite simple, Gamora. Thirty or so years ago, the inhabitants of Midgard were engaged in a global war that left many cities in ruins. Since then, most of the cities have been almost completely rebuilt. While the scars remain, life as gone on and places have been rebuilt.” He coughed and she held the sponge to his lips again.
“Terrans, or Midgardians, whatever they are, don't live that long. They don't have a choice.” She spat.
“Yes, they do. They could just build elsewhere. But they clean up, they clear away, they rise from the ashes. Resilient little bipeds.” He sighed. “That's how they are. But the dark elves had their world destroyed when my father was younger than I am now. They still haven't sorted through all the rubble yet. Jotunheim's war happened when I was an infant; they have rebuilt and have gotten back on their feet, so they say. Svartalfheim, for all extents and purposes, have merely just sat back up.”
She frowned. “I do not see how any of this ties into the Aether.”
“I'm merely stating that I have no more idea where the Aether is than I know what my daughter is having for lunch on Asgard, that is all.” He stood up, groaning. “I have no doubt that you will be a good student. You seem like a smart girl.”
“Thank you.” She knelt to remove the chains from the manacles on his ankles and then did the same to his wrists, and caught him before he collapsed. “I'm to take you see my father.”
“I had a feeling you were.” He found his feet and they started forward. “Do lessons start this afternoon or do I have a day to prepare a lesson plan?”
“You're agreeing to all this. Why?” Gamora held him out at arm's length. “After all the defiance, why be compliant now?”
“You want to kill me then, Gamora?” He pulled away and held out his arms. “I am unarmed and weak. Feel free to attack and leave me for dead.”
She glowered at him. “Whatever you're planning, it will not work.”
“I am planning nothing.” He stated. “I have only just been released.” This was only a partial lie. In truth, his mind was already working on a release. When Gamora had listed the third option, he knew that it meant at least partial freedom. Thanos would not keep the girl locked up on this place forever. Loki knew she would need 'practical' training and the like. It might take a while, and it would require him to give the performance of his life, but he would get out of here - and take Gamora with him. The fact that there would be innocent people harmed and killed in the endeavor... it was, tragically, a price that would have to be paid. He knew he had to return to Asgard and warn them that Thanos was after the Infinity Gems, and then who knew what.
“I do not like this.” They left the cell and Loki blinked in the bright light of the corridor. “I do...”
“You wish me to just be killed then?” Loki shrugged. “I can change my answer before we reach your father, if you like.”
“I do...” She let out a frustrated noise and ran her hands through her hair. “I don't know what I want!”
“Of course you don't, you're a teenager.” He stated as if he was telling her that her skin was green. “You're not supposed to know what you want. You're supposed to try things and figure things out, mess up, pick yourself up after a good cry and begin again. Quite frankly, if I ran into someone of your age who had iron clad convictions, I'd be torn between horror and pity.”
“Pity? Why?” She shook her head. “Are you always going to be so contradictory?”
“Yes, Gamora.” He smirked as they came to the end of the corridor. “Of that, you can be quite certain. You will need to know how to see the emotions of a blank face, hear the words that are left unsaid and much more.”
She straightened her shoulders, and he could see that she was trying to form a blank face, and failing tremendously - but he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“It's perfectly fine to be excited by the prospect of learning, Gamora. There is nothing a teacher adores more than a willing and eager pupil.” His grin widened as she smiled at his words.
**
Natasha had planned on taking her brother to the stables after lunch, but while they were eating, Grandmother had joined them and stated that Joshua needed to be fitted for new clothes. While he had tried to protest that he had clothes of his own, she countered that he needed proper clothes. She sympathized with him, she hadn't seen any issue with what he'd been wearing, but what the two of them thought and the rest of Asgard thought were two entirely different things.
She ran her fingers along the strings of her harp, sighing. She adjusted a few of the pegs before sitting down and started to work on her scales, her mind drifting back to the Mister Stark's party and all the guests who had complimented her on her playing, while they told Tony how big he was getting. That was such a dumb comment. What else were children supposed to do with their appearance other than get bigger? She might pick out her dress nearly every morning, but nearly all of her garments had been selected by a grown-up.
“Natasha?” A voice called and she set her hands on the strings to silence them, and she instantly stood.
“Good afternoon, Grandfather.” She bit her lip. “Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing's wrong.” He sat down on one of the easy chairs in her room, sighing. “Where is your brother?”
“Grandmother is with Joshua, he's getting fitted.” She sat back down. “Did I miss something?”
“No, Natasha, you haven't.” He had an odd look on his face, the same sort of look Uncle Thor used to get before he admitted to not doing his reading, or something similar. “I am hoping you can help me with something.”
“What is it?” She set her hands in her lap, trying to think what her grandfather could possibly need her help with.
“Are you aware of how the treaty with Jotunheim works?” He lifted his chin, smiling faintly.
“I know that King Laufey is not allowed to leave his realm, they cannot have an army above a certain size, and in return, Heimdall is only allowed to give fleeting glances on Jotunheim.” She frowned. “And almost all of Asgard's information the realm comes second-hand.”
“True.” He smiled. “Now, as we suspect your father's two other children are on Jotunheim, it would be beneficial to know more about the realm, and what has occurred there since the war.”
She rubbed her nose. “I thought you were in contact with King Laufey, Grandfather.”
“It is only formal and not direct.” He took a breath. “I am proposing that we go to Jotunheim to inform him of what we know and to begin the search there.”
“We?” Her mind raced, trying to understand what he'd just said. “Meaning?”
“You and I are going to go to Jotunheim, Natasha. Why is it better of the two of us go and not ambassadors?”
“Because if something happened to an ambassador, the jotun could, theoretically, pass it off as a tragic accident. However, if something were to happen to either of us, the jotun would basically be waving their spears and asking Asgard to attack.” She gave him a small smile. “Correct?”
“Yes.” He tapped his fingers on the table, looking around the room for a moment, as if there was something more he wished to know. “Granted, we are not going to be leaving for Jotunheim soon, not until after the Yule.”
She nodded in understanding. “Um... you haven't told Grandmother yet, have you?”
“What makes you say that?” He asked, with a wry grin.
“Because Grandmother will need to be convinced before the privy council will.” She went pink and fully expected a reprimand for sassing.
Instead, Grandfather chuckled. “Clever girl.” He cleared his throat. “And that is another reason I came to speak with you. I need for you to speak to the privy council about the government of Jotunheim. I understand you studied while on Vanaheim?”
She nodded. “But aren't there, I don't know...”
“Natasha, unlike many of the people who sit on the council, you do not have an old warrior's bias, or any sort of prejudice against the jotun. You are also the only person currently in Asgard who has met with any of King Laufey's family.” Grandfather sighed and stood up. “Also, given what education you have received, you can explain it better, I for one do not understand how....oh, those islands...”
“The Seven Spears, Grandfather.” Natasha interjected.
“Yes, the Seven Spears...” He frowned. “Do you understand how their government works?”
“They're a constitutional monarchy. Well, sort of. Collectively, they're a confederacy, they each govern themselves, but on large matters, such a defense and inter-realm trade, they have a group of representatives that meet to discuss such things. They acknowledge that his majesty, King Laufey, is the leader of Jotunheim, but in the Seven Spears, that role, as they say on Midgard, is basically waving in a parade, kissing babies and making a speech on important holidays.”
Grandfather managed a weak smile. “See, even I did not know that.”
“Could I have my atlas back?” She worried her bottom lip. “I might be able to explain the Seven Spears better by using Midgardian islands of similar size as examples.”
“Of course you may, Natasha.” He came over and ruffled her hair. “I do not even know the names of the islands and....”
“Myrlyr, Pralt, Cendal, Lescynsr, Nysly, Qnther and Ynasl.” She recited, more automatically than intentionally.
He chuckled. “Clever girl. Do you think you can have something prepared to present to the council this time next week?”
“Yes, Grandfather.” She nodded, her mind already planning on where to start. Once she had her atlas back, she could start working in earnest.
“Good girl.” He touched her cheek and headed for the door. “I will see you at dinner.”
“Yes, sir.” She called towards his retreating form and let out a breath as he closed the door. “Oh, Papochka, I fear I'm about to get in way over my head.” She hit her head against her harp, letting out a weak chuckle that swiftly turned to tears. Her father hadn't even been missing for half a year, and it already felt like a decade.