The Last Days of Magic and Glory Chapter #6
In this chapter, Thor finally finds out that the horse is pregnant, Tyr gives him a lesson in kingship, and Thor consults the horse about his treatment of his brother.
Chapter 6: Understanding and the Lack Thereof
After his disappointing turn at diplomacy, Frigga began supplementing boring meetings and audiences with boring lessons on how to attend to boring meetings and audiences. She would analyze Thor’s decisions and point out all of his mistakes. It was demoralizing to say the least and even though Thor listened, he didn’t feel inclined to change his behavior. A part of him was sure that he didn’t need to change.
The only highlights of his days were riding and then one day that too came to an end.
The horse was waiting for him as always, but when he tried to put the saddle on her she would shake it off. Even after he managed to get it on with her bridal tied to the post, it just magically disappeared and reappeared on its rack.
And when he tried to climb on bareback, the horse actually bit him. It wasn’t hard enough to break skin, but it was definitely a bite, not a nibble or a nip.
Thor had given up for the night, ready to head back to the castle when the horse followed him step for step.
“What? You don’t want to go for a ride, so I’m going to sleep.”
The horse shook her head and nudged him away from the path to the palace and towards the woods. They walked together to a nearby field and slept under an apple tree.
Thor felt a little embarrassed worrying about the mercurial moods of a magic horse, but even though he hoped that the horse was just moody, he feared she might be sick. He resolved to ask one of the stable hands about it the next day.
“Moody!” the stable hand laughed. “Well, they’re not like Aesir women in a similar state, but a sure a foaling mare can be moody.”
“Foaling?”
“You know, pregnant. You should be able to safely ride her for another moon, but if she doesn’t want you to, maybe it’s best leave her alone.”
Thor’s jaw dropped. He knew that the horse was female, but he had no idea she was pregnant. Thor managed to find a book on the subject and realized that the mare had probably been so since he’d known her, because in horses a pregnancy lasted 11 moons.
That night, he brought her a pail full of apples in apology, pressing at her noticeably taut belly to see if he could feel the foal shift within.
***
Thor was horrible at court affairs. After the diplomatic incident with Misheim, things deteriorated even further. Every single one of the boundary settlements that Thor negotiated fell apart in a matter of weeks, one of them ending in a rather spectacular fistfight that knocked the head off one of his mother’s favorite statutes. Thor didn’t understand the economics of trade with Hellheir or how sending flowers was supposed to quell unrest with the religious sects in the South. He retreated to the War Council, outside of his mother’s watchful eye. But Tyr hardly allowed Thor more control after he didn’t plan rationing for the Jotenheim sentries correctly and they ended up having to ask King Laufey to borrow extra rations. The only thing that Thor could provide useful input on was training exercises for the warriors.
“How does father do it all?” Thor asked Tyr after a particularly harsh strategy meeting in which two of the generals had lectured Thor about using intelligence gathering to avoid rather than incite war.
“You look like you could use a drink,” Tyr laughed, pulling a sheepskin out from a hidden panel in the War Council’s chambers.
Thor drank from it heartily.
“The task of kingship is not an easy one,” Tyr admitted. “Your father shielded you boys too much from the reality of it out of love and the desire for you to have the freedoms afforded to most children. Your brother has long been aware of the nature of the kingship, which I suspect is why he takes such care to prove himself unworthy of it at every opportunity.”
Thor had begun to suspect as much, of course, but Tyr was the only other person that seemed aware of it. Everyone else just saw Loki’s tricks as immature - the result of a spoiled youth. “But you think he would make a good king?”
Tyr sighed. “I think your brother has the skills to be a great king, yes. But there is a sickness in him that I’m not sure can be cured.”
“What do you mean?” Thor vibrated with suppressed anger. He knew that Tyr did not harbor ill will towards Loki; in fact he’d been nothing but patient with the smaller, frailer of the two siblings in training. Still, Thor’s instinct toward Loki would always be to protect.
“Your brother is not a typical Aesir.”
Thor held his breath. He’d always known this. They were like night and day and even though their mother tried to say that it made them perfect complements, Thor always feared for Loki. Without even meaning to, Thor had always excelled at everything valued in the realm and by virtue of being different, Loki had always been everything mistrusted and looked down upon. Thor never faulted his brother for doing what he loved, but he had often teased him for his strange habits.
“What we look up to is strength, prowess in battle, the confidence to command, the desire to enjoy rich food and good mead. But in order for our society to be rich and to be orderly, the softer arts are necessary: diplomacy rather than unwinnable wars, peace among hot tempered boisterous men, the materials to maintain our infrastructure and the organization to assure such things running smoothly. It is glory that keeps our spirits high, admiration that keeps the loyalty of the citizenry, and victory in necessary battles that has led us to dominate the realms, but it is cunning that chooses the battles we can win and keeps our warriors supplied, that spins great tales of our glory and keeps the citizenry from fighting amongst itself.”
Thor took another deep drink, collapsing into the ceremonial chair he occupied during the council - higher than everyone else, but ultimately meaningless when it came to earning their respect. “I’m not good at cunning, am I?”
Tyr laughed, a sad, regretful laugh. “No, my boy, you are not. But ultimately, you do not need to be. It is a rare king that can do it all. You are beloved of your people and inspire admiration with little effort. You are the personification of glory and you are the greatest warrior I have ever known.”
Thor smiled, clasping Tyr’s hand. “Thank you, training master,” he replied, recalling the days of youth when Tyr had been his beloved trainer. “That means a great deal to me.”
Tyr smiled, reminding Thor of days long past when he and Sif would sit in Tyr’s lap listening to tales of battles long past with rapt attention.
“But those are only the qualities of a good figurehead, not a good ruler. In order for you to be a great king, you must know your limits. You must know and appreciate that there are hundreds of people in the palace, your brother included, with more sense than you when it comes to the business of ruling. You must trust those people and you must be humble before them, because in these matters they know much better than you.”
Thor’s ego kicked and screamed. It argued that Thor could learn these things in time, that he could be as good a ruler as his father was - attending to matters of court and battle with equal skill.
Tyr chuckled. “I see that your father has fooled even you. Odin is a magnificent warrior and he is wise, but in his youth he had much help in ruling the kingdom and he made many mistakes. We fought a deadly, costly war against Jotunheim when you were just a babe. It was unavoidable, but probably could have been ended earlier if he had not been so set on revenge. Before he married your mother, many of Odin’s diplomatic missions ended as your last visit to Misheim. Odin is still righteous, too zealous to punish, often unsympathetic to the emotional turmoil of others, and too quick to make decisions on the behalf of those he considers beneath him. He is not a perfect king.”
Tyr’s words were treason. A year ago, before Thor had been forced to take on more kingly duties, he would have drawn his hammer and undoubtedly come to blows. But now he understood the soft admiration in Tyr’s eyes and felt the magic of loyalty that still bound Tyr to his father.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect king, Thor. The business of ruling is too vast for one man alone. No, each king must be the best he can be and that means knowing his own strengths and weaknesses and changing his rule accordingly.”
Thor could understand that. “What does that mean for me?”
“First, it means that you must admit your faults.”
Thor considered this for a long moment. He was aware he had faults, of course, but he had honestly never sat down and thought about them and no one other than Loki and occasionally his parents ever bothered to tell him about them. “I admit that I am not skilled at diplomacy and I am horrible at Royal Audience.”
Tyr smiled encouragingly. Thor was meant to continue.
“I think I could learn to lead the Warrior’s Council and its administrative issues. I fight as an individual - strategy does not come easily. As for the other issues of trade and administration, I am at a great loss.”
Tyr nodded. “Your father also struggles with issues of infrastructure. He has hired the best advisors. You need only know enough to restrain them from being overzealous. For diplomacy, Odin relies on Frigga, but I think you just need a few good advisors and you will excell. You are naturally far more likeable than your father and more patient as well, though I suppose looking for a spouse with good diplomatic skills would be helpful.”
“Sif is out of the question, then,” Thor half-joked. He doubted Sif would consent to marry him anyway.
“True. But I think you will find her an excellent addition to the Warrior’s Council when the time comes. Now, let’s see . . . you will have to blatantly restructure how royal audience is held, because I don’t know that you will ever be skilled at it. As for strategy, you do have a council full of advisors, missing only the kingdom’s best tactician.”
Thor frowned. “If there is a greater tactician, why is he not an advisor to the king?”
Tyr shook his head. “Because your father would never take his advice.”
“Give me his name and he shall sit on the council when my father is not present.”
“Alas, that is not possible at the moment, but it does bring me to the second, and possibly most important thing you must do in order to be a great king.”
“What is it?” Thor demanded eagerly. “Tell me and it shall be done.”
“You must find and make reparations with your brother.”
“Loki and I work well together. He is not absent because of me.”
“Oh, Thor,” Tyr sighed. “You have always been blind to it, perhaps willfully so.”
“Blind to what?”
“Loki’s sickness. He has always been a sensitive boy, one who loves deeply and craves love in return. He doubts his own worth and resorts to trickery in an attempt to claim what he rightfully deserves, rather than demanding it as his due. It has been festering in him since you were boys.”
“I love my brother,” Thor protested. “He has never had cause to doubt that.”
“You love your brother, but do you respect him? Do you treat him as your equal? Are you proud of him when he shows his skill? Do you protect him from being unfavorably compared to you? Do you shield him from your father’s favoritism? Do you appreciate all he does for you?”
Thor wished he could answer all the questions in the affirmative, but he could not, in good conscience. “I praise him and I protect him from harm.”
“Is that enough, do you think?” Tyr asked. “Is it enough to compensate for how they call him liesmith? How you and others call his powerful magic mere tricks? How you pursue your glory at the expense of his more shadowy contributions? Do you think it could ever make up for the fact that Odin has always favored you? Loki tries very hard to be accepted and to compensate for his lack of natural strength in battle with his wits and his magic. He struggles just to be your equal. He makes great sacrifices only for your father to turn to you instead. Right now, these hurts manifest in him as insecurity. Right now he deals with them by pretending he is less than he is - by resorting to mischief instead of trying when he knows that he cannot compete. But one day it will be more than mischief and one day insecurity will transform into resentment and when that day comes, you will find yourself with an enemy who is not stronger than you, but who knows desperation and has the wits to transform that desperation into horrible advantage.”
“Loki would never,” Thor swore, but it came out more a plea. He plead that it would not be true. “Loki is my brother. He loves me.”
“And he is all the more dangerous for it. He loves you enough to hang his soul on your acceptance and on your praise. Your father is not wise enough to realize it, but I hope you will understand how well love turns to hate.”
Thor nodded. He’d received the slap of enough maidens to know that much. “I do appreciate him. And I would have him at my side, on the War Council and in all things.”
“Perhaps the king’s brother is royal enough for royal audience?” Tyr raised an eyebrow in joking question.
“That would be an elegant solution,” Thor agreed.
***
“Good evening, horse,” Thor smiled, still pleasantly warm from the wineskin he and Tyr had finished. “How was your day?”
The horse looked down at her rapidly expanding belly unhappily, making Thor laugh as he petted her. He ran a hand down her side, feeling the rough kick of the foal. “Your little one kicks a lot,” he remarked. “He or she will be strong.”
The horse nuzzled him.
“I brought you a barberry pie,” Thor smiled, unwrapping the cloth from around his gift. “Actually, I brought it for us to share,” he amended, grabbing himself a slice before the horse could devour it.
The horse made quick work of the rest, staining the area around her mouth purple.
Thor laughed at her, using the cloth to clean her up as best he could. “I would feel rude laughing at a pregnant woman, but you are a horse.”
She tried to nip him anyway, but Thor danced easily out of her range. The library had said that the last three moons of gestation the foal grew rapidly, nearly 60% of its growth. Thor could attest to that. The once sleek and powerful mare seemed bloated, especially from the front, where she looked more like a horse with a large fur-colored wheel around her middle. She had one moon left before the foal would be born and Thor both awaited it and dreaded it.
Thor walked out of the stables, with the horse ambling next to him. They walked towards the palace this time, where they would sleep in the gardens. Once Thor had convinced his mother that the horse would not eat her favorite flowers, they were allowed to stay there at night.
“Tell me something,” Thor commanded, once the horse had uneasily lowered herself beneath the great ash tree that he and Loki had planted as a seedling when they were boys. It now dominated the ‘Prince’s’ section of the garden. “When your foal is born, do you intend to leave me?”
The horse looked at Thor for a long time, but did not reply. Eventually, she nudged him with her nose, prompting him to pet and massage her muscles, no doubt aching from the pregnancy.
“I wish you wouldn’t leave,” he said. “But if you must,” he added. “Please at least wait for my brother’s return.”
The horse nuzzled her assent, before relaxing back into Thor’s petting.
“I know you have never seen me with Loki,” Thor continued. “Although you do know him. Tyr and I talked today and he said that I must make reparations with my brother and named the thousand ways that I have unknowingly been harming him.”
The horse was staring at Thor now, her gaze fixed and intent even though the angle must be uncomfortable for her neck. Thor moved obligingly so that she’d be able to watch him.
“Until today I saw our relationship a certain way. I thought of myself as the hero and Loki as my trusted squire. I saw myself as his protector, too. And I saw the bond between us a deep and unbreakable. We teased each other and we fought, competed for our father’s attention and sometimes we hurt each other, as brothers do. But I have always felt blessed to have Loki at my side. After what Tyr said, I doubt whether he feels the same. Have I perpetrated some great hurt upon him?” Thor felt tears welling in his eyes. “Am I the reason he has not returned?”
The horse shook her head vigorously, but Thor did not know if he could believe her.
“Father was murderous. He threatened his own son with unspeakable punishments and all over a bad contract with the wallbuilder. I should have stood up for him. I should have stopped whatever horrible thing he had to do for our father’s approval, the thing that keeps him away still. I should have protected him!”
Thor was surprised to feel the nip to his arm, hard enough to draw blood. He was even more surprised when the horse struggled to her feet, walking over to the part of the garden that Loki reserved for his magical herbs. They were a little overgrown, but Thor had been afraid to prune them for fear that he might do something wrong and make them useless for Loki’s spells. The horse had eaten a few of them before, probably to help her pregnancy. Thor waited for her to do the same, but instead she stomped her foot agitatedly, gesturing with her head over to the garden.
“Do you want me to pick something for you?”
She shook her head violently, now gesturing to the stone wall around the gardens and then to her pregnant belly.
“Do you want to leave the gardens?”
She neighed, looking even more agitated. Her front hoof dragged in the grass, marking the green grass down to the mud with a straight line.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Thor said. “I’ll be in a world of trouble if the gardeners tell mother that you have made markings in her garden.”
The horse had that look that said that even as a mere horse she was smarter than he was, but Thor ignored it, leading her back towards the stables where they could sleep in the warm hay for the night.
Next Chapter: The Thraberbeast and the Prince
Chapter 6: Understanding and the Lack Thereof
After his disappointing turn at diplomacy, Frigga began supplementing boring meetings and audiences with boring lessons on how to attend to boring meetings and audiences. She would analyze Thor’s decisions and point out all of his mistakes. It was demoralizing to say the least and even though Thor listened, he didn’t feel inclined to change his behavior. A part of him was sure that he didn’t need to change.
The only highlights of his days were riding and then one day that too came to an end.
The horse was waiting for him as always, but when he tried to put the saddle on her she would shake it off. Even after he managed to get it on with her bridal tied to the post, it just magically disappeared and reappeared on its rack.
And when he tried to climb on bareback, the horse actually bit him. It wasn’t hard enough to break skin, but it was definitely a bite, not a nibble or a nip.
Thor had given up for the night, ready to head back to the castle when the horse followed him step for step.
“What? You don’t want to go for a ride, so I’m going to sleep.”
The horse shook her head and nudged him away from the path to the palace and towards the woods. They walked together to a nearby field and slept under an apple tree.
Thor felt a little embarrassed worrying about the mercurial moods of a magic horse, but even though he hoped that the horse was just moody, he feared she might be sick. He resolved to ask one of the stable hands about it the next day.
“Moody!” the stable hand laughed. “Well, they’re not like Aesir women in a similar state, but a sure a foaling mare can be moody.”
“Foaling?”
“You know, pregnant. You should be able to safely ride her for another moon, but if she doesn’t want you to, maybe it’s best leave her alone.”
Thor’s jaw dropped. He knew that the horse was female, but he had no idea she was pregnant. Thor managed to find a book on the subject and realized that the mare had probably been so since he’d known her, because in horses a pregnancy lasted 11 moons.
That night, he brought her a pail full of apples in apology, pressing at her noticeably taut belly to see if he could feel the foal shift within.
***
Thor was horrible at court affairs. After the diplomatic incident with Misheim, things deteriorated even further. Every single one of the boundary settlements that Thor negotiated fell apart in a matter of weeks, one of them ending in a rather spectacular fistfight that knocked the head off one of his mother’s favorite statutes. Thor didn’t understand the economics of trade with Hellheir or how sending flowers was supposed to quell unrest with the religious sects in the South. He retreated to the War Council, outside of his mother’s watchful eye. But Tyr hardly allowed Thor more control after he didn’t plan rationing for the Jotenheim sentries correctly and they ended up having to ask King Laufey to borrow extra rations. The only thing that Thor could provide useful input on was training exercises for the warriors.
“How does father do it all?” Thor asked Tyr after a particularly harsh strategy meeting in which two of the generals had lectured Thor about using intelligence gathering to avoid rather than incite war.
“You look like you could use a drink,” Tyr laughed, pulling a sheepskin out from a hidden panel in the War Council’s chambers.
Thor drank from it heartily.
“The task of kingship is not an easy one,” Tyr admitted. “Your father shielded you boys too much from the reality of it out of love and the desire for you to have the freedoms afforded to most children. Your brother has long been aware of the nature of the kingship, which I suspect is why he takes such care to prove himself unworthy of it at every opportunity.”
Thor had begun to suspect as much, of course, but Tyr was the only other person that seemed aware of it. Everyone else just saw Loki’s tricks as immature - the result of a spoiled youth. “But you think he would make a good king?”
Tyr sighed. “I think your brother has the skills to be a great king, yes. But there is a sickness in him that I’m not sure can be cured.”
“What do you mean?” Thor vibrated with suppressed anger. He knew that Tyr did not harbor ill will towards Loki; in fact he’d been nothing but patient with the smaller, frailer of the two siblings in training. Still, Thor’s instinct toward Loki would always be to protect.
“Your brother is not a typical Aesir.”
Thor held his breath. He’d always known this. They were like night and day and even though their mother tried to say that it made them perfect complements, Thor always feared for Loki. Without even meaning to, Thor had always excelled at everything valued in the realm and by virtue of being different, Loki had always been everything mistrusted and looked down upon. Thor never faulted his brother for doing what he loved, but he had often teased him for his strange habits.
“What we look up to is strength, prowess in battle, the confidence to command, the desire to enjoy rich food and good mead. But in order for our society to be rich and to be orderly, the softer arts are necessary: diplomacy rather than unwinnable wars, peace among hot tempered boisterous men, the materials to maintain our infrastructure and the organization to assure such things running smoothly. It is glory that keeps our spirits high, admiration that keeps the loyalty of the citizenry, and victory in necessary battles that has led us to dominate the realms, but it is cunning that chooses the battles we can win and keeps our warriors supplied, that spins great tales of our glory and keeps the citizenry from fighting amongst itself.”
Thor took another deep drink, collapsing into the ceremonial chair he occupied during the council - higher than everyone else, but ultimately meaningless when it came to earning their respect. “I’m not good at cunning, am I?”
Tyr laughed, a sad, regretful laugh. “No, my boy, you are not. But ultimately, you do not need to be. It is a rare king that can do it all. You are beloved of your people and inspire admiration with little effort. You are the personification of glory and you are the greatest warrior I have ever known.”
Thor smiled, clasping Tyr’s hand. “Thank you, training master,” he replied, recalling the days of youth when Tyr had been his beloved trainer. “That means a great deal to me.”
Tyr smiled, reminding Thor of days long past when he and Sif would sit in Tyr’s lap listening to tales of battles long past with rapt attention.
“But those are only the qualities of a good figurehead, not a good ruler. In order for you to be a great king, you must know your limits. You must know and appreciate that there are hundreds of people in the palace, your brother included, with more sense than you when it comes to the business of ruling. You must trust those people and you must be humble before them, because in these matters they know much better than you.”
Thor’s ego kicked and screamed. It argued that Thor could learn these things in time, that he could be as good a ruler as his father was - attending to matters of court and battle with equal skill.
Tyr chuckled. “I see that your father has fooled even you. Odin is a magnificent warrior and he is wise, but in his youth he had much help in ruling the kingdom and he made many mistakes. We fought a deadly, costly war against Jotunheim when you were just a babe. It was unavoidable, but probably could have been ended earlier if he had not been so set on revenge. Before he married your mother, many of Odin’s diplomatic missions ended as your last visit to Misheim. Odin is still righteous, too zealous to punish, often unsympathetic to the emotional turmoil of others, and too quick to make decisions on the behalf of those he considers beneath him. He is not a perfect king.”
Tyr’s words were treason. A year ago, before Thor had been forced to take on more kingly duties, he would have drawn his hammer and undoubtedly come to blows. But now he understood the soft admiration in Tyr’s eyes and felt the magic of loyalty that still bound Tyr to his father.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect king, Thor. The business of ruling is too vast for one man alone. No, each king must be the best he can be and that means knowing his own strengths and weaknesses and changing his rule accordingly.”
Thor could understand that. “What does that mean for me?”
“First, it means that you must admit your faults.”
Thor considered this for a long moment. He was aware he had faults, of course, but he had honestly never sat down and thought about them and no one other than Loki and occasionally his parents ever bothered to tell him about them. “I admit that I am not skilled at diplomacy and I am horrible at Royal Audience.”
Tyr smiled encouragingly. Thor was meant to continue.
“I think I could learn to lead the Warrior’s Council and its administrative issues. I fight as an individual - strategy does not come easily. As for the other issues of trade and administration, I am at a great loss.”
Tyr nodded. “Your father also struggles with issues of infrastructure. He has hired the best advisors. You need only know enough to restrain them from being overzealous. For diplomacy, Odin relies on Frigga, but I think you just need a few good advisors and you will excell. You are naturally far more likeable than your father and more patient as well, though I suppose looking for a spouse with good diplomatic skills would be helpful.”
“Sif is out of the question, then,” Thor half-joked. He doubted Sif would consent to marry him anyway.
“True. But I think you will find her an excellent addition to the Warrior’s Council when the time comes. Now, let’s see . . . you will have to blatantly restructure how royal audience is held, because I don’t know that you will ever be skilled at it. As for strategy, you do have a council full of advisors, missing only the kingdom’s best tactician.”
Thor frowned. “If there is a greater tactician, why is he not an advisor to the king?”
Tyr shook his head. “Because your father would never take his advice.”
“Give me his name and he shall sit on the council when my father is not present.”
“Alas, that is not possible at the moment, but it does bring me to the second, and possibly most important thing you must do in order to be a great king.”
“What is it?” Thor demanded eagerly. “Tell me and it shall be done.”
“You must find and make reparations with your brother.”
“Loki and I work well together. He is not absent because of me.”
“Oh, Thor,” Tyr sighed. “You have always been blind to it, perhaps willfully so.”
“Blind to what?”
“Loki’s sickness. He has always been a sensitive boy, one who loves deeply and craves love in return. He doubts his own worth and resorts to trickery in an attempt to claim what he rightfully deserves, rather than demanding it as his due. It has been festering in him since you were boys.”
“I love my brother,” Thor protested. “He has never had cause to doubt that.”
“You love your brother, but do you respect him? Do you treat him as your equal? Are you proud of him when he shows his skill? Do you protect him from being unfavorably compared to you? Do you shield him from your father’s favoritism? Do you appreciate all he does for you?”
Thor wished he could answer all the questions in the affirmative, but he could not, in good conscience. “I praise him and I protect him from harm.”
“Is that enough, do you think?” Tyr asked. “Is it enough to compensate for how they call him liesmith? How you and others call his powerful magic mere tricks? How you pursue your glory at the expense of his more shadowy contributions? Do you think it could ever make up for the fact that Odin has always favored you? Loki tries very hard to be accepted and to compensate for his lack of natural strength in battle with his wits and his magic. He struggles just to be your equal. He makes great sacrifices only for your father to turn to you instead. Right now, these hurts manifest in him as insecurity. Right now he deals with them by pretending he is less than he is - by resorting to mischief instead of trying when he knows that he cannot compete. But one day it will be more than mischief and one day insecurity will transform into resentment and when that day comes, you will find yourself with an enemy who is not stronger than you, but who knows desperation and has the wits to transform that desperation into horrible advantage.”
“Loki would never,” Thor swore, but it came out more a plea. He plead that it would not be true. “Loki is my brother. He loves me.”
“And he is all the more dangerous for it. He loves you enough to hang his soul on your acceptance and on your praise. Your father is not wise enough to realize it, but I hope you will understand how well love turns to hate.”
Thor nodded. He’d received the slap of enough maidens to know that much. “I do appreciate him. And I would have him at my side, on the War Council and in all things.”
“Perhaps the king’s brother is royal enough for royal audience?” Tyr raised an eyebrow in joking question.
“That would be an elegant solution,” Thor agreed.
***
“Good evening, horse,” Thor smiled, still pleasantly warm from the wineskin he and Tyr had finished. “How was your day?”
The horse looked down at her rapidly expanding belly unhappily, making Thor laugh as he petted her. He ran a hand down her side, feeling the rough kick of the foal. “Your little one kicks a lot,” he remarked. “He or she will be strong.”
The horse nuzzled him.
“I brought you a barberry pie,” Thor smiled, unwrapping the cloth from around his gift. “Actually, I brought it for us to share,” he amended, grabbing himself a slice before the horse could devour it.
The horse made quick work of the rest, staining the area around her mouth purple.
Thor laughed at her, using the cloth to clean her up as best he could. “I would feel rude laughing at a pregnant woman, but you are a horse.”
She tried to nip him anyway, but Thor danced easily out of her range. The library had said that the last three moons of gestation the foal grew rapidly, nearly 60% of its growth. Thor could attest to that. The once sleek and powerful mare seemed bloated, especially from the front, where she looked more like a horse with a large fur-colored wheel around her middle. She had one moon left before the foal would be born and Thor both awaited it and dreaded it.
Thor walked out of the stables, with the horse ambling next to him. They walked towards the palace this time, where they would sleep in the gardens. Once Thor had convinced his mother that the horse would not eat her favorite flowers, they were allowed to stay there at night.
“Tell me something,” Thor commanded, once the horse had uneasily lowered herself beneath the great ash tree that he and Loki had planted as a seedling when they were boys. It now dominated the ‘Prince’s’ section of the garden. “When your foal is born, do you intend to leave me?”
The horse looked at Thor for a long time, but did not reply. Eventually, she nudged him with her nose, prompting him to pet and massage her muscles, no doubt aching from the pregnancy.
“I wish you wouldn’t leave,” he said. “But if you must,” he added. “Please at least wait for my brother’s return.”
The horse nuzzled her assent, before relaxing back into Thor’s petting.
“I know you have never seen me with Loki,” Thor continued. “Although you do know him. Tyr and I talked today and he said that I must make reparations with my brother and named the thousand ways that I have unknowingly been harming him.”
The horse was staring at Thor now, her gaze fixed and intent even though the angle must be uncomfortable for her neck. Thor moved obligingly so that she’d be able to watch him.
“Until today I saw our relationship a certain way. I thought of myself as the hero and Loki as my trusted squire. I saw myself as his protector, too. And I saw the bond between us a deep and unbreakable. We teased each other and we fought, competed for our father’s attention and sometimes we hurt each other, as brothers do. But I have always felt blessed to have Loki at my side. After what Tyr said, I doubt whether he feels the same. Have I perpetrated some great hurt upon him?” Thor felt tears welling in his eyes. “Am I the reason he has not returned?”
The horse shook her head vigorously, but Thor did not know if he could believe her.
“Father was murderous. He threatened his own son with unspeakable punishments and all over a bad contract with the wallbuilder. I should have stood up for him. I should have stopped whatever horrible thing he had to do for our father’s approval, the thing that keeps him away still. I should have protected him!”
Thor was surprised to feel the nip to his arm, hard enough to draw blood. He was even more surprised when the horse struggled to her feet, walking over to the part of the garden that Loki reserved for his magical herbs. They were a little overgrown, but Thor had been afraid to prune them for fear that he might do something wrong and make them useless for Loki’s spells. The horse had eaten a few of them before, probably to help her pregnancy. Thor waited for her to do the same, but instead she stomped her foot agitatedly, gesturing with her head over to the garden.
“Do you want me to pick something for you?”
She shook her head violently, now gesturing to the stone wall around the gardens and then to her pregnant belly.
“Do you want to leave the gardens?”
She neighed, looking even more agitated. Her front hoof dragged in the grass, marking the green grass down to the mud with a straight line.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Thor said. “I’ll be in a world of trouble if the gardeners tell mother that you have made markings in her garden.”
The horse had that look that said that even as a mere horse she was smarter than he was, but Thor ignored it, leading her back towards the stables where they could sleep in the warm hay for the night.
Next Chapter: The Thraberbeast and the Prince