Attestation: Part Three
Title: Attestation: Part Three
Recipient: Daegaer
Author: wispykitty
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Crawford has foreseen the end of the world, and it is Ragnarok. (Schwarz & the Norse Gods!)
Warnings: Being that is about the end of the world, there is some death (though not as finite).
By the end of the journey Schuldig had come to realize the difference that came with Odin's blessing. Nine days and nine nights of hard travel, yet he was not tired, and his body did not ache from riding a horse non-stop. He was currently standing at the gates of Hel, the reigns of his horse held tightly in his hand as he waited for admittance. Farfarello stood near him, while Nagi remained on his horse.
“You know what you are to do when we leave you here, Farfarello?” Schuldig looked beside him at the Irishman, who nodded.
“I know, and it will be done. Even if I have to leave this place and enter Jotunheim myself to rip apart the ship with my own hands, I will do so. Whatever it takes to ensure failure for he who lies.”
Schuldig smiled and felt at ease. It had been tough, getting Farfarello to comply, and had included Schuldig setting false memories within the mind of the Irishman. Though he still fought against Crawford, he now thought that Schuldig was also against the American, in that he wanted to take control of the land for himself. The false memories were of Crawford discussing the need for Naglfar, that the ship would transport Hel's dead and frost giants to help the gods battle the sons of Muspell, giants from the land of fire. As long as they kept Farfarello from speaking around others, it was fairly simple to have him believe these falsities.
“The gate's open.”
Schuldig looked forward at Nagi's urging, noting that the gate was indeed open. With a smirk on his lips he led his horse into the realm of Loki's daughter, his eyes roaming over the land. It was as one would expect it to be - dark and cold. Though he felt the cold, it did not bother him as it would have had he been mortal still. He led his group further in, walking the path towards Hel's palace, Eljudnir.
Once there they were greeted by the figure of a woman, stooped over and tired. Her hair was black, her skin sallow, and her dress the dreariest of material and design. She did not have a pleasant demeanor. “Who are you, those three that have come here not by death's design, but of their own will?”
Schuldig stepped forward. “We are newly appointed gods, sent by Odin to speak with your mistress. We are here to retrieve Odin's son, Baldr.”
This news did not please her, but she could not turn them away. Everyone who came to seek the ruler of this land would be admitted, and it would be for Hel herself to decide what would be done with them. So she led them into the hall, bidding them to leave their mounts at the steps and that they would be tended to. They walked down a long hallway and she pointed to a room on the right.
They entered and saw, finally, seated upon a throne of basalt rock, the frightening visage of Hel. “I do not recognize your faces, you who come to me still breathing. Come closer and tell me who you are and what you seek,” she did not move from her throne.
Schuldig approached first, both intrigued and horrified by the mere look of her, with skin that was half-black, and half-flesh. Her face was twisted in a frown, and her hair was wild and tangled. Through the slits in her dress it was evident that though the upper portion of her body was that of a young woman, the bottom half showed signs of old age and disease, the skin mottled and grey. The mere look of her was nearly putrid.
“I am Schuldig, appointed a god by the hand of Odin himself.”
Hel laughed, and her laughter was throaty and grating. “You speak of Odin as though I should respect him,” she fixed the telepath with a slight glare.
Schuldig did not waver in her line of sight. “Odin is not your concern at the moment. We are here to bring Baldr back to Asgard. You will give him to us.” Not bothering to wait, Schuldig jumped straightaway into her mind, sifting through the murky depths, pulling out every memory he could find of the god.
“Baldr?” Hel sat up in her throne, her expression growing even more unpleasant. “I have already been through this. He remains here, with me. There is nothing you can offer me to change my mind.”
“You mistake me for someone who needs to make offers in order to attain results.” Schuldig was surprised at the ease with which he was able to rearrange the woman's head - a result of Odin's blessing, or a sign of Hel's weakness? She was not, after all, a full goddess.
There was silence for a few minutes as Schuldig worked. Hel did not speak, as though engaged in an internal struggle to retain comprehension of the subject at hand. The struggle was not long lasted, though, and soon there was no memory left of Baldr at all. Hel looked at the telepath, a confused expression on her face. “Were we discussing something?”
Schuldig smiled and shook his head. “Only that we must be going, but that our friend Farfarello will remain behind with you. He has a request to make of you, but for that he does not need us.” Schuldig sunk back into the shadows, followed by Nagi, as Farfarello approached the throne of the queen of the underworld.
“Farfarello, is that your name?” Hel looked down at the man standing before her, still slightly muddled from the work of Schuldig.
Farfarello nodded. “It is.”
“And what is it you want with me?”
Farfarello climbed the first step to the throne. “Where do the dead arrive when you receive them?”
Hel watched as he came closer, intrigued. “Through the front gate.”
He climbed the second step. “Where is the ship Naglfar?”
“Docked in Gjoll,” was her answer, and still she regarded him curiously. “Why are you asking?”
Farfarello frowned. “The ship is not in Jotunheim?”
“No,” Hel said, “it's not finished being built yet. It will sail to Jotunheim when construction is finished.”
Farfarello nodded. This news made his job that much easier. “Would you show it to me?”
Hel frowned. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I must destroy it.”
There was silence as Hel contemplated Farfarello's comment. Surely, there was something more to this man than what appeared on the surface? “What makes you think I will allow you to destroy it, when it is my people who build it?”
“Because destroying the ship will bring about the downfall of Odin and the gods. I am correct in assuming that would be to your liking?” He was now at the top step, and looked down at the still seated figure of Hel.
“You are wrong on one count, correct on the other,” she spoke, looking up at him. “I hold no love for Odin, but the ship will set sail not to help him, but to bring forth troops to attack him.”
“You are wrong,” Farfarello replied, shaking his head. “The giants of Jotunheim will ride forth to battle the sons of Muspell, who would see the world rent in flames.”
Hel reached out, touching Farfarello's hand. “Someone has lied to you. All Jotun seek the destruction of the gods. They do not go to war with one another.”
Farfarello frowned. That was impossible. He looked down at his hand and saw her fingers pressing lightly into his skin. “I have suffered many lies in my life time.”
“While I hold no compassion, and show no pity, my friend I can tell you that I do not lie. You have been deceived again.” Hel released his arm and shifted slightly on her throne.
Farfarello felt the rumblings of rage beginning to stir in his stomach. Who was he to believe?
“Who sent you here?”
Farfarello looked down at her and frowned. Schuldig, but he did not want to believe that the telepath had lied. Perhaps it was all a part of a bigger web of deceit perpetrated by Crawford as God?
“Was it Odin?”
Farfarello focused the sight of his one golden eye upon her. “A friend of Odin.”
“Do you consider yourself a friend of Odin?”
Farfarello shook his head. “I am a friend to no one.”
Hel regarded him quietly for a moment before speaking. “What if you were a friend to me? It seems as though we both have enemies, and that our enemies are friends.”
“Which makes the enemies of our enemies our friends,” Farfarello replied, staring down at the woman.
Hel smiled.
Getting Baldr out of Hel was a bit tougher than Schuldig had expected. For one thing - he refused to leave if his wife Nanna could not accompany him. As a second problem, Schuldig could not find their horses. He had no idea where they'd been taken, and he'd sent Nagi off to search for them.
By the time Nagi had returned (with two horses) Schuldig had relented and told Baldr that they would bring Nanna with them out of Hel. It was a lie, of course, and he was currently trying to persuade both of them that they would indeed be happier on their own. While Nanna's mind had been somewhat easier to turn, Baldr was being a problem.
“What do you mean you've changed your mind? You are my wife, you go wherever I go!”
Nanna sat on the steps, hugging her knees. “That is my decision. I do not want to leave.”
Baldr looked at her in confusion, as though ready to throw her over the horse himself if need be. “But you were desperate to go only minutes ago! I don't understand what could prompt you to change your mind so suddenly! You followed me into Hel, and now you refuse to follow me back out?” He knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his. “Nanna, please, reconsider! You do realize that we will be separated if you remain?”
“I do,” she pulled her hand out of his. “I am tired, Baldr. I do not wish to make the trip back to Asgard.”
As Baldr continued to confront his wife, Schuldig wished he'd been able to manage a cleaner break between the two. He knew it was slightly sloppy, this sudden change of heart and mind. But then he supposed it didn't really matter much anyway, not for where Baldr was going. If need dictated, he would simply have Nagi force Baldr away from Nanna, and keep him under restraint until they reached their next destination.
He quickly made his way to Nagi, taking the reigns of one horse. “I'm having a little trouble with him,” was all he managed to get out before Nagi shook his head and approached the pair.
“Baldr, we're leaving now.” Nagi stood before the pair, ready to force the god onto the horse. To his surprise, that wouldn't be necessary. Baldr strode forward and grasped the reigns out of Nagi's hands, mounting the horse.
Nagi and Schuldig shot each other furtive glances, surprised at Baldr's sudden retreat. Schuldig mounted the other horse first, and helped Nagi up behind him. They both glanced back at Nanna, who remained seated on the steps, before heading off after Baldr.
Noticing that they had finally caught up, Baldr looked at Schuldig and sighed. “Women,” he said, in a sad tone, “they confuse me! Do you think I should go back for her?”
Schuldig shook his head. “No, she has made her decision. Besides, we are on a tight schedule. We must return to Asgard as soon as possible.” He slid into Baldr's mind, trying in vain to influence the god to leave his wife behind without a second thought.
Baldr still struggled with him, though he did not turn back. They rode on, and Schuldig hoped they would encounter no more trouble. He'd been so preoccupied with Baldr that he had not thought to check in on Farfarello before leaving him behind.
“Where are we going? I thought you said we were headed for Asgard,” Baldr questioned Schuldig, feeling ill at ease.
“We are, there is just somewhere we must stop first.” They were nearing the area now, and in the distance Schuldig could make out a large figure moving in the shadows, coiling and uncoiling, slithering it's length around the branches of a tree. And there, underneath, tended to by his wife, was Loki.
Make sure he follows us, Nagi, Schuldig knew he would not be able to control Baldr when he noticed the being who'd caused his brother to loose the arrow that killed him, so it was really best to have Nagi forcibly keep him here. There was no response from the telekinetic, but when Schuldig next glanced at Baldr, he noticed him sitting perfectly erect upon his horse, his eyes wild but his mouth clamped firmly shut. Schuldig smiled.
They neared the tree under which Loki had been imprisoned, and first met the eyes of his wife Sigyn. She sat near her husband, a bowl held out in her hands, catching the venom that dripped from the fang of the snake. She eyed them curiously, clearly not expecting any company.
“Who goes there?”
Schuldig dismounted from his horse and walked over to her, extending a hand to take the bowl from her. She seemed reluctant to let it go. “It's alright, Sigyn, allow me to take over for a moment. Your arm must be tired. Allow me to hold the bowl while I discuss some matters with your husband.” She nodded and sat back, watchful though as Schuldig indeed continued to hold the bowl and catch the venom.
“I do not know your face, friend, tell me your name?” Loki eyed the German curiously from his place upon the rock, upon which he was bound by three shackles.
“Schuldig, a newly appointed god picked by Odin himself.”
Loki's eyes narrowed, and a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Odin! And he sends you here to me? Are you here to bring forth my death?”
Schuldig shook his head and smiled. “No. I am here to offer you a deal.”
Loki's head tilted slightly, and it was then that he turned his head to see Nagi and Baldr. His eyes grew large at the sight of the god he'd had killed. “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Baldr?”
“Your eyes see clearly. Now focus your attention on me, friend, so that I might make you the offer.”
“And what will you do if I refuse your offer?” Loki turned his head again to face Schuldig.
“Kill Baldr and leave you here. It would be much less troublesome, however, if you were to comply.” He leaned down over the god, his fingers touching Loki's temple. The god bristled at his touch, but then was still. Schuldig had drawn him into his mind, much the same way he had been drawn into Crawford's. In this setting, Loki was no longer chained, and he stood, looking around him.
“What trickery is this, friend? Where have you brought me?”
Schuldig grinned and folded his arms over his chest. “That's not important right now. Just know that here is a plane upon which no one can overhear us.”
Loki laughed. “Why the need? Did you not know that none can overhear me? None can see me? Why do you think I have gotten away with so much in my lifetime? Neither Heimdall nor Odin knew of my exploits when I roamed free!”
“Of course, but what good does that do you now, chained to a rock?” Schuldig was patient as Loki stretched his limbs and moved freely around. “But you are wrong, however, on one thing.”
“Oh? And what's that?” Loki returned to his side, peering curiously into Schuldig's eyes.
“I can hear you. Your thoughts flow to me as plain as day.”
“Impossible! I have created a cloud around me, impenetrable to any and all who seek to gain knowledge of my thoughts and actions!” Loki was not pleased, and fixed the telepath with a glare.
Schuldig, however, remained calm (though he wanted to gloat and harass the god into compliance). “Allow me to demonstrate, will you?” Loki frowned and grumbled, but accepted.
“If you fail, though, you must release me!”
Schuldig smiled in return. “If you listen, you will see that it is within my plans to release you anyway. But first we must discuss what you will do for me.” At that he had the god's attention, and he continued. “We who have come here from Midgard are a group of four, who were summoned by prophecies of our own to offer aid to the gods during the events of Ragnarok.” Loki frowned at this comment, but Schuldig pushed on. “We have decided, however, that we do not wish to aid the gods. We will appear to, but when the end approaches, we will turn on them and take Asgard for ourselves.”
Loki crossed his arms and pondered the thought. “And where does that leave me?”
“We would like to make you ruler. You have been done an injustice by those who have bound you here, and we would like to be of aid in repaying them for their misdeeds.”
“And why not simply keep Asgard for yourselves? Why do you need me?”
Schuldig did not rush his explanation, knowing that this was their only chance of swaying the trickster god to their side. “We are new gods, Loki, only recently given rank. Only a week ago, we were mortals from Midgard. We know what happens to lands when those new in power take them. They fail. We need a ruler with experience, who knows each of the nine worlds connected by Yggdrasil.”
“But why me? You have Baldr, why not him?”
“Our positions as gods are contingent upon his successful return to his parents. That is the sole reason why we have taken him from Hel.”
Loki was still confused. “But with Baldr, you return one of their own to the gods. Surely that will sway momentum in their favour still?”
Schuldig smiled, the same way he was used to seeing Crawford smile when releasing the final bit of information that would settle their plans. “It would, were we bringing him back.”
“But I thought you said...” Loki trailed off, curious eyes still fixed to Schuldig, looking as though he were struggling to piece together this puzzle.
“We will leave Baldr here, and bring you back.”
Realization dawned upon the god's face, and he smiled. “I will be Baldr.”
“Yes.” Schuldig felt his stomach muscles cramp from having to keep his excitement from showing. The plan was working!
“When will I show my true self?”
“This we must now discuss. If you'd like to have a seat?” He pointed to two chairs that had appeared. They were not as nice as the ones Crawford could conjure, but then the American had been practicing this ability of drawing others into his mind for much longer than Schuldig had.
Though they had spoken for hours, the trance-like state that had overcome the two on the ground only appeared to last seconds to any who watched. Schuldig motioned to Nagi. “He has agreed. Come, and bring Baldr.”
Nagi dismounted from the horse and moved over towards where Loki lay upon the rock. The horse carrying Baldr approached them as well, and stopped before Schuldig. Nagi leaned down to examine the bonds that kept Loki in place. “How are we going to do this?” He looked over at the German, who grinned and knew exactly what he asked by that question.
“We've been blessed, so it seems! Loki has created a cloud around him, so that we can neither be seen nor heard, when with him.”
Nagi's eyes widened in intrigue upon hearing that. “Well, that makes things much simpler.” He touched the shackles with his fingers. “I thought these were made of the entrails of your son?”
“They were, but they turned to steel.” Loki pulled at the shackles, showing their strength and durability.
“That's of no concern, I suppose.” He fixed his eyes on the ring that held Loki's right hand, and concentrated. The steel was tougher than that to be found in their land, but eventually it gave way, snapping open. Loki pulled his hand from it and stared, transfixed.
“How did you do that? You wield no weapon!”
Nagi did not respond, instead concentrating and snapping open the remaining bonds. Loki did not need to be told to move. Springing forward from the rock, he stood and massaged his wrists. Schuldig laid the bowl on the rock, and moved toward the horse upon which Baldr sat.
With Loki watching, the German pulled the god down from the horse and sat him upon the rock where Loki had just been. Holding the bowl back up again, Schuldig watched as Nagi snapped the bonds on Baldr's wrists, securing him to the rock. He released Baldr from the imposed paralysis he'd placed him under and stepped back, watching as the god thrashed and tested the steel rings that now held him, while his murderer stood free.
“Release me! When Odin hears of this treachery-”
“And who will tell him?” Schuldig stood to the side, and moved the bowl slightly, allowing one drop of the serpent's poison to hit Baldr on the forehead, causing him to scream and thrash anew. He quickly moved the bowl back. “You have shown me that you are unable to cooperate fully, Baldr. Therefore I regret to inform you that I must leave you here, but that I will not leave you intact.”
“What do you mean?” Baldr glared at Schuldig, who smiled in return.
“I cannot take a chance that Heimdall will hear your cries for help, so I must destroy your mind.” He knelt beside him, a predatory look on his face. He let go of the bowl to concentrate better, and Baldr flinched, expecting a cascade of venomous liquid to fall over his face. But it was held in place by Nagi, and so Schuldig began rifling through the mind of Odin's favoured son, destroying the memories, destroying the patterns of thought. It took some time, since the god had been living for many years, but eventually there was nothing left but a blank hole, and Baldr was empty. Schuldig stood back and leaned against the horse.
They were going to win.
“How will we deal with Fenrir? Though I had come to accept my fate, if it can indeed be avoided then I do not wish to be swallowed by the wolf.” Odin sat with Crawford, still working out the events of Ragnarok.
“It can be avoided,” Crawford answered, “and Vidar will need to act swiftly. He must be ready to meet the wolf as he breaks free of his chains. Freyr will accompany him.”
“Will he not be needed to battle Surtr?” Odin asked, contemplative.
“Remember, Surtr and his fire jotnar will not cross the Bifrost. Nagi will handle them.”
Odin nodded. “Right, that is correct. So Freyr and Vidar will set forth immediately to the place in which Fenrir has been chained.”
Crawford nodded, “Yes, that would be best. He will be released before they meet him, but together the two will see the great wolf perish.”
“You have seen this?”
“I have.” Crawford met Odin's eyes, and spoke to him in a calm but assertive manner.
Odin sat back in his chair, his hand stroking his chin. “I am grateful towards whatever force of nature has brought you to my land, Crawford. Perhaps it was Yggdrasil herself, providing aid to those who work hard to see her thrive.”
“Perhaps,” Crawford replied, taking a sip from a glass of wine. Perhaps not, he thought.
Farfarello stood at the dock beside Hel, watching as her people filed onto the ship, battle-ready and eager to be off. He and Hel had grown close quickly, hatching their own plan to bring about the destruction of their enemies. In place of Loki, Farfarello would sail the ship Naglfar to the plains of Vigridr, stopping along the way to pick up Hrym and the frost jotnar.
He had proposed his plan to Hel in which he would ensure that Schuldig would be named ruler of Asgard, and Hel surprised him by disagreeing. “Do you not want the realm for yourself?” She'd asked, and he'd pondered the thought a moment before responding.
“No,” he'd said, “I will not live among the land where my enemy was created and where he flourished,” he'd told her, much preferring to return here, to join her in ruling the dead. She told him to do as he wished, and that should he return, he would be welcome to remain.
And so now he watched as the ship was packed, and he turned to Hel. “I will avenge the wrong that was committed against you, as I shall too avenge the wrong that was committed against me.”
Hel nodded and touched his face. “I wish for your swift success, and hope you will bring us new subjects when you return to me.”
Farfarello nodded. “I will do that.” Then he left her on the dock, and boarded the ship. He stood behind the wheel, looking out into the roiling waters that stretched before him and between the lands. His time was approaching. All gods would suffer and perish at his hand.
The following day saw Vidar and Freyr set off for the island of Lyngvi, that place where Fenrir was bound. Crawford had stood at Odin's side as he sent them off, watching as they rode away over the plains. They then returned to the hall, intent on hammering out a few more potential problems. When they sat back two hours later, with everything planned for and plotted, they picked up their glasses of wine and Odin made a toast to their success. As they drank from the glasses, though, a sound blasted through the room that made them stop.
Gullinkambi crowed.
Odin looked up into the face of Crawford. “And so it begins.”
They were still a day away from Asgard, but Schuldig had sensed that perhaps something was amiss.
“Do you feel it too?” Nagi asked him, “a stirring in the air?”
“As though the end of the world was near?” Schuldig replied, and nodded.
“It is the shaking of Yggdrasil, my friends. The great tree feels the coming of war, and worries that her lands will be torn asunder!” Beside them rode Loki, who'd overheard their exchange and butted in with an explanation.
Schuldig nodded. “Has it begun?”
Loki shrugged. “Who can say for certain anymore? With your arrival, things have changed. The final battle will not occur as it was foretold to occur, but in a different way, with different outcomes.”
“As long as we arrive before the battle begins so that Odin may see you as Baldr, then I'm not concerned about anything else,” Schuldig spoke, urging his horse on.
“Then my friends, let us make haste, for we are not far from the lands of my brethren!” Loki spurred his horse, leading Schuldig and Nagi. Though he'd wanted to remain as his normal self until they reached the gods, Schuldig had bade Loki to transform into Baldr and remain as the slain son of Odin. He would not risk anyone seeing the god for who he truly was.
Farfarello stood on the bridge, feeling frosty water splash over his cheeks and soak his hair. It did not bother him, of course, as it never had before. They were approaching the dock in Jotunheim, and from here he could see Hrym and his people waiting in a line. The giants were not as large as he had been expecting, but still of significant size to make them useful in the battle. He would speak with Hrym, and ensure the Jotun leader had the same outcome in mind for the battle.
If his ideals differed, and they were not to Farfarello's liking, then he would have no choice but to kill the giant himself, and hope that it would send a message to his people that there was to be only one captain on this crew, and it would be him.
The following morning found Crawford being awoken by the sound of a loud horn, and he knew, then, that the beginning of Ragnarok was set. He was worried slightly that Schuldig and Nagi had still not returned. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he tried once more to force a vision of when they would arrive. His last three attempts had been unsuccessful, and he'd found that slightly bothersome.
This morning proved differently, though. A brief glimpse was all he needed to see. He stood up and made his way out of the room and towards the room of Odin. Halfway there the god emerged from the doors, glancing to his right and seeing Crawford.
“You remember our agreement, don't you?” Odin spoke gravely, and did not even need to mention what this morning signified.
“I do, and I have news. Though they are not here yet, Schuldig will bring Baldr to us when we meet at the well of Urdarbrunn. I have seen it,” he explained, and felt relieved when the god smiled.
“Wonderful! To ride into battle with my son at my side! Surely deceitful Loki will recoil when he sees this.” Odin returned to his room, bidding Crawford to follow him. “For now, though, I must dress in my armor. Frigg, if you would help?”
The goddess, who was already assembling the suit on their bed, nodded. “Of course, everything is prepared for you already, husband.”
Crawford watched as the golden armor was slid over the god's body, and his thoughts lay in their plans. If things went according to the vision he'd received, in exactly five hours time Vidar and Freyr would be meeting Fenrir upon the rocks, and there they would do battle with the monstrous wolf. Crawford had not bothered to tell Odin that while Vidar would survive the struggle as was foretold, Freyr would not, and would take the place of Odin in Fenrir's belly.
There were many things he did not tell Odin.
Farfarello stood on the deck, exactly where he'd been standing throughout the journey, looking out over the water, waiting anxiously for a sign of land. It should not be too far off now, according to the maps. Hrym had boarded with his people and had spoken with Farfarello. The leader of the giants agreed with Farfarello's proposals of slaughtering all gods, and saw no reason for them to quarrel. He had since retreated below deck with his people, and Farfarello remained up top, hands firmly gripping the rail in case of a big wave.
“Farfarello!”
He looked over his shoulder, to see the man he'd left in charge of steering the ship calling to him.
“Yes?”
“If you look through the telescope, you will see Asgard on the horizon!”
Farfarello moved finally, walking across the deck to climb the ladder up to the captain's chamber. Entering, he took the telescope that was offered and put it to his eye, staring through it in the direction the man had pointed.
He gasped in a mixture of shock and delight - they were close! “How long until we land?”
“Not long, perhaps an hour.”
Farfarello smiled.
“Should we keep to the foretold events, then? Will the outcomes differ?” Thor posed the question - obviously curious if he himself would survive his fated battle with the serpent Jormungandr.
“For the most part, yes. There will be no ship setting sail to bring forth the frost jotun, for it has been dismantled by Farfarello. Likewise, Hel's troops will not arrive upon our shore. Loki will still find his way here, though he will come later than expected. Fenrir is being dispatched now by Freyr and Vidar.”
“And the sons of Muspel? Will they reach our shores?” The one handed god Tyr asked.
“No, they will not reach the Bifrost bridge. They will be entombed in stone upon the other side.” Odin answered, a smile on his face. “So the bridge will not break.”
“What of the wolf, Garmr?”
“He will be killed by Farfarello.”
“So then we do not have many foes to worry ourselves with, do we?” Thor asked.
“No, my son, we do not.” Odin smiled at the group.
Throughout the exchange Crawford kept his eyes on the mountain range that separated Jotunheim from Midgard, and kept his ears peeled for that German accented voice. Towards the end of the conversation, it was heard finally. He turned to Odin.
“I apologize for interrupting, but if you turn your head to the west, there may you feast your eyes upon your son, returned from Hel.” He pointed in the general direction that the two horses were approaching from, and felt relief flood through him when he saw Schuldig's mane of red hair flying behind him, no doubt causing Nagi great nuisance.
The gods exclaimed of this surprise and watched, transfixed, as the horses approached. Before them, on a horse of purest white, sat Baldr, son of Odin, beloved brother to the gods of Asgard.
“Baldr! Surely our eyes deceive us! How can this be?” Hermod was the first to advance, curious as to how this pair had secured his release.
“Brother Hermod, it is like water to the parched earth, the vision of you!” Loki descended from the horse, clasping the god's outstretched arms. “But where is my father?”
Odin stepped forward, his face nearly split in two from the smile it sported. “Baldr! Though Crawford assured me of our reunion, my heart did not believe it! You arrive just in time for our success,” Odin clasped Baldr in a tight embrace, his hand reaching out to pat the god's hair. “It's a shame your mother will not see you until this is all over, but what a joyous reunion it shall make!”
Crawford strode forward to meet with Schuldig and Nagi, his eyes locking on the German. “I was worried you wouldn't make it in time,” he smiled.
Schuldig grinned back at him. “But we did, and everything is set.”
“Everything?” Crawford shot him a knowing look, one that asked more than the question he'd uttered from his mouth.
Schuldig nodded, fully aware of all implications. “Everything.”
Smiling and turning then to Nagi, Crawford reached out a hand to grasp the Japanese youth's shoulder, an odd gesture for him. “You've performed well, but now it is time for you to be off with Heimdall.”
Nagi nodded, though he found himself slightly confused by Crawford's words. The American had said he'd performed well. He'd not done anything, though. But that was not really important, as he did need to leave with Heimdall. He bid the American goodbye, and turned to seek out his companion god.
Crawford felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look at Schuldig, who was grinning. Without mention of it, he pulled the German into that perfectly crafted spot buried in the deep recess of his head.
“And why do you look so pleased, Schuldig?”
The German shrugged. “Excitement, I suppose. You should know, though, that I had to erase all memory of this from Nagi's head. While I don't believe he would slip up, he will be alone with Heimdall, and a thought may slip out that could send us all to our deaths. Or worse, if you'd seen what they'd done to Loki.”
Crawford frowned. “I supposed that couldn't be avoided. What have you done with Baldr?”
“He's lying in place of Loki, being tended to by Sigyn. She agreed to remain there until such time came that the bonds would break on their own. She wanted to come with Loki, of course, but she understood what that would mean for all of us.”
Crawford nodded. “That's good.”
“Baldr is no longer himself, though, I'm afraid. I had no choice but to destroy him, though of course leave him breathing. There is nothing left in his head.”
Crawford grinned, pleased with that news. “You gave this all a lot of thought. I'm impressed.”
Schuldig shrugged again. “I believe you happen to be wearing off on me.”
Nagi crossed the remainder of the Bifrost bridge with Heimdall, and they were accompanied by Hoenir and Vali, along with a host of warriors from Valhalla. Odin had decided that instead of simply encasing the fire jotun, he would send an army to destroy them before they ever made it to the bridge. Crawford had agreed, and had told the god that the decision was a wise one.
His vision though told him otherwise. All of Odin's warriors would fall in combat to the giants, and the only ones who would survive were Nagi, and Heimdall. By the time Odin would come to see this, though, it would be too late.
Nagi remained upon Gulltoppr, the horse belonging to Heimdall (whom he had shared with the god on their way to the other side of the Bifrost). They were not, as he'd expected, back in Lapland. Instead, as Heimdall had explained to him, they were on a plain that connected Midgard to Muspelheim, the land of the fire jotun. This plane existed so it would never be necessary for the giants to enter Midgard itself if they wished to access the bridge. The idea confused him, since he'd thought that the fire jotun were never intended to cross the bridge anyway, so he did not understand why anyone would make concessions for them to do so.
Heimdall walked at the head of the group, leading the warriors forward, ever closer to the land of fire. Suddenly, on the horizon, their enemies were spotted.
Nagi remained calm and watched the group as it surged forward, eager they were to engage the giants in combat and therefore alter the course of fate. His eyes searched for the leader, Surtr, for he had a mission of his own to undertake. Their success depended upon it.
Farfarello was back at the head of the ship, his crew surrounding him. There before them lay the shores of Vigridr, and around his ship the water surged, and as he looked down he saw the massive body of the world serpent, Jormungandr, as it bore them forward upon his back.
Destiny was upon them, and he would meet his enemy in combat finally. His face was twisted with rapturous passion, and he clasped the sword that Hel had given him as a present to demonstrate their friendship before he'd left. He would be victorious, of that much he was certain.
The God Crawford would fall, and it would be by Farfarello's hand.
Crawford stood beside Odin, and Schuldig stood beside the American, and together they watched as a ship sailed toward the shore of Vigridr. Crawford had not seen this.
Do you think Farfarello failed? Crawford could not comprehend how he had not foreseen this. Perhaps he'd been concentrating too hard upon everything else?
Not exactly,, Schuldig answered, feeling for a moment as though he did not want to tell Crawford all of the details. He's sailing the ship.
Crawford tensed, and continued staring ahead. What exactly do you mean, he's sailing the ship?
Schuldig frowned, as he listened in on the thoughts that were now close enough for him to hear. He and Hel have devised a plan of their own. He comes to see you put to death.
Crawford was silent as he pondered this news. How would he present this to Odin? How could he cover up for his mistake? Fuck, was his only answer to the German.
Schuldig could not help but grin, though he knew this day would likely see the death of one of the two people he considered himself closest to. His biggest problem, though, was choosing which one he would support.
Farfarello watched, safe from his vantage point upon the ship, as Thor surged out to the river, intent on nothing more than meeting his foe in battle. The Irishman had to keep from jumping over the side of the ship himself, wanting nothing more than to plunge his sword through the heart of the God he so despised. They engaged in battle, and Farfarello watched as more of Odin's warriors surged forward, lashing out towards the great serpent, quick to come to the aid of the god of thunder, before the ship crashed upon the shore and spilled out the giants and warriors of the underworld.
He glanced along the beach, searching out the one he himself wished to do battle with.
Farfarello; instead he heard a voice in his mind.
Schuldig, he responded, searching the beach anew for his friend.
Have you changed your mind, then? Who do you bring forth upon your ship?
He has lied to us both, Schuldig! The frost jotnar and warriors of Hel do not seek to see Odin put upon the throne, but they seek his destruction!
Really? Who did you hear this from?
Hel has told me. She has imparted to me much knowledge. We are united in our common enemy, she and I!
I see, Schuldig replied. Would you like me to leave Crawford alive for you?
Yes.
Nagi sat astride Gulltoppr, and rode out to meet Surtr, armed with nothing but his telekinetic skill. All around him the warriors were fighting with the frost giants, for there were many more jotun than there were Einherjar. Heimdall himself took on three jotun at once.
Nagi turned his attention to Surtr. The giant stood before him, a gleaming sword held aloft in his grip, shouting some words that Nagi chose to ignore. Not bothering to look to his own safety, he concentrated his power upon the giant, flying inside the being's body, traveling along his veins and through to his heart. There the telekinetic focused his power, and within seconds the lord of the frost jotnar fell to the ground, his heart exploded within his chest.
Nagi floated the gleaming sword to his own hand, a smile upon his lips. Neither god nor mythical being could prove to be a match for his own power.
He means to destroy you, you know, Schuldig stood beside Crawford, watching as the ship broke upon the shore and hundreds of dead warriors spilled out to meet the warriors awaiting them on the beach.
I realize that, thank you, Crawford replied.
What do you want me to do? Schuldig was still conflicted, but preferred to weigh his options before casting his ballot.
Let him come for me. Don't concern yourself.
Schuldig thought the American underestimate Farfarello's power, but he did not bother saying so. As you wish.
Nagi did not wield the sword that he held, but instead utilized his power, breaking the bodies of the jotun with mind alone. No fire would cross the Bifrost today. He looked around him, witnessing the carnage. Vali lay upon the ground, his body pierced many times over by the fiery rods of the sons of Muspell. Hoenir himself was cornered by five of the giants, and Nagi watched as they cut off his head. He could do nothing else but snap their necks, watching as all five fell in succession.
Many of their warriors lay dead upon the ground, and Nagi focused his powers upon the living jotun, watching as they fell and looking around for more.
His eyes met those of Heimdall, who was still standing. The god motioned toward the bridge, and Nagi understood. He drove Gulltoppr toward the Bifrost, and it was there that he waited for Heimdall, who leapt up behind him.
Looking back out toward the fiery plain that separated Muspelheim from Midgard, he called forth the stone from the mountain of Asgard, and sent it crashing down upon the remainder of the fire jotun's army.
Bifrost was safe.
The American and the German remained behind the line of combat, surveying the field and watching as Thor battled the world serpent. Already the fight had lasted longer than it should have, but it would soon end. Thor smashed his hammer down upon the serpent's mouth, cracking teeth and sending them spraying out over the land. Odin and Loki had since departed, riding out together into the midst of the battle.
Odin was at Tyr's side, aiding him as he battled the wolf Garmr, who had been the first being to leap from the side of the ship Naglfar. The beast was ferocious, and had already killed twenty warriors before Tyr had reached him.
Currently he had his jaws clamped over the head of Tyr, and hoisted the god into the air, shaking him from side to side, until finally he threw the body into the water, where the god proceeded to drown. He was left to face Odin, who drove his spear into the side of Garmr's neck. The beast plummeted to the ground, thrashing in pain.
Everything was going according to Crawford's plan still, even though Farfarello had shown up with the ship.
Nagi spurred Gulltoppr forward, into the heart of the battle. He felt Heimdall slip off behind him, and rounded his course, making his way toward the rear of the field. Schuldig?
I see you, keep coming straight, you'll find us; the telepath watched as Nagi burst through the ranks of warriors and came to stop before them.
Dismounting from the horse, Nagi produced a gleaming sword. “From the hands of Surtr, as requested,” he offered the sword to Crawford, who took it with a smile.
Holding it in his hands, Crawford did not fear even the unpredictability of Farfarello. He had in his hands a sword that would fight battles on its own. What more could he possibly require?
Farfarello strode forward onto the beach, his eyes drawn toward the battle that was occurring directly before him. Thor battled the world serpent Jormungandr, and all around them lay littered bodies of the freshly dead. He paused for a moment, watching as Thor plunged his sword through the head of the serpent. Jormungandr fell upon the sand, and for a moment it appeared as though Thor was victorious. But nine steps in and the god collapsed, as was foretold.
Farfarello continued forward. He cleaved his way through warriors, brandishing a path toward his own destination. God would fall today, and Farfarello would stand victorious.
Crawford watched as, in the distance, Thor fell to the serpent. All around him, the war was being waged on an even level. For every warrior of Hel that fell, so too did a warrior of the gods. Before him stood the figure of Heimdall, a questioning look upon his face. Perhaps he had spoken too hastily in his mind before the god?
Before he has a chance to question, though, a sword drove through the neck of the guardian deity. Heimdall fell, and behind him stood Loki, still disguised as Baldr.
Odin stopped at the death, his eyes upon what he believed to be his son. “What trickery is this?” He cried, “that my own son bring about the death of he who was believed to be our own last warrior?”
Suddenly the face of Baldr changed, and there was shown the face of Loki. “I have killed my last enemy, Odin. Would you consent to face me now?” The trickster god danced over the corpse of his enemy, and Odin emerged, enraged.
“I challenge you to death, mongrel!” He held aloft his spear, and Loki held his sword, and together they circled one another, while Crawford watched. Still holding the powerful sword in his hands, he did not fear the outcome of this battle. He would face and depose whoever emerged victorious.
Nagi stood beside Schuldig, his powers creating a barrier between them and the warriors who surrounded them. What is supposed to be the outcome of this? Nagi asked.
Schuldig replied, I believe we are awaiting the moment when Odin kills Loki, he answered, and after that, Crawford will kill Odin.
Nagi nodded. It appeared simple enough.
Farfarello found himself detained momentarily, engaged in a struggle for battle he had not anticipated. The newly arrived Vidar, who had slain Fenrir but watched as Freyr died, had charged upon the shores of Vigridr. There he met the sword of Farfarello, as it twisted and turned and carved out his heart.
The Irishman continued forward, searching only for Crawford. His eyes caught the movement of red hair in the distance, and he surged forward, certain that where Schuldig dwelt, so too did Crawford.
He's coming, Schuldig warned, his eyes scanning the crowded plain before him for a sign of the Irishman.
Let him come, Crawford responded, not worried. He had the sword, and he had the telepath, and so too did he have the telekinetic. Farfarello would do him no harm.
As you wish, Schuldig replied, standing to the side as he watched the crowd around him. He saw Nagi off to the right, his eyes also watchful. He then glanced toward the center of the plain, where Odin still battled Loki. Would you like us to end this, given that Farfarello is near? He asked Crawford curiously.
Though I long to say no, perhaps that is a wise decision. Kill Loki, Crawford answered, as his eyes watched the pair before him struggle.
Schuldig did not answer, but instead spoke words of advice to Nagi, who concentrated upon the body of Loki, forcing it still as the spear of Odin's met it and plunged through.
Odin watched as his nemesis fell to the ground. “Who else, then, will challenge me?” All around him the cheers of those warriors still living swelled.
Crawford stepped forward. “You have lived for too long,” he said, before releasing the sword he held aloft, and watching as it plunged into the chest of the god. Odin fell at his feet.
Farfarello watched as Odin fell, and felt a surge of excitement course through his body. Only one god to defeat now! He pushed and shoved and cleaved his way forward, until he stood before Crawford. The God offered him a smug look, and Farfarello frowned. He would wipe the God's face clean.
Crawford at last saw Farfarello advance upon him, and he set his sword in front of him, commanding it to meet any blows or parries of his enemy. He and Farfarello circled one another, and eventually the Irishman ended up underneath him, and Crawford stopped his blade just before it reached the Irishman's throat.
“Farfarello,” he spoke, “it appears as though we are at a crossroads.”
Farfarello narrowed his one good eye, glaring at Crawford. “You and I never stop before any barrier!”
Crawford laughed. “It is unfortunate your psychosis has finally taken hold of you. You could have been useful,” he said, before plunging his sword deep into the heart of the Irishman. “May Hel still accept you, though you are now half a man.” He pulled it out and held it high, for all the masses to see.
Asgard was his.
In the following days Crawford grabbed Asgard by the throat, asserting his brand of dominance over the realm and its people. Of those who did not fall during battle, Crawford ordered the deaths of Frigg and Freya, and made the remainder of those gods and goddesses swear upon their lives that they would follow him.
Nagi moved into the vacated palace of Himinbjorg, taking up Heimdall's position as guardian of the Bifrost. Though he did not possess the auditory skills of his predecessor, Schuldig was able to communicate with him easily from atop the mountain. This set up suited the three of them fine. Crawford and Schuldig enjoyed ruling the realm, while Nagi preferred silence and privacy.
Crawford kept the head of Mimir in his new study, seeking advice on it about the lands and races that still lived. He named Schuldig as his first in command, and gave him the warriors to oversee. It was a position that the telepath enjoyed immensely, and over time those remained still in Asgard grew to forgive the German for his part in the treachery. After all, he had only been following orders, they'd told themselves, and he was really quite pleasant to deal with, if you did as he asked.
Upon his death, Farfarello had been returned to Hel, who would have wept at his death had she been capable of tears. As it was, she did welcome him back and afforded him a place beside her on her throne, and a spot beside her in her bed. Though he was no longer alive, he was still among the living dead, and that was enough for her.
A month had passed since the time of the great betrayal, and it was the end of another day. Crawford had left Schuldig in the hall with the men, drinking mead and gnawing on ribs. He returned to his room, and prepared for bed. He was planning to travel to Vanaheim tomorrow to visit with Njord, the god he'd named ruler of that realm. Together they planned to speak with the frost jotun, to come to terms of agreement for a truce. Crawford did not believe any such truce would be held binding by the giants, but it looked rather good to his people, that he attempted to broach peace with such hateful creatures that populated the lands of their enemies.
After he dealt with them, he planned to enslave the dwarfs.
Climbing into his bed, he laid his head upon his pillow and closed his eyes, opening his mind to allow for any visions that happened to come to him. He recoiled suddenly as he saw the frightful face of Hel, staring at him from above. Opening his eyes he found that breath would not come to him, and looked down, only to see the end of a long knife protruding from his chest.
“Did you think I would not return?” The voice of Farfarello spoke into his ear, tinged with malice and hatred. “You who has given me nothing but lies and deceit, pain and death! Now comes my rebuttal. Now you journey to my realm, and there you shall call me master!” The knife slid out of him, and Crawford fell back, choking as blood came to his throat.
This was not happening! How had he not seen this? How has this vision escaped him?
“Shocking, isn't it?”
He looked towards the door, his expression taking on a note of confusion as he stared into the face of the German. Schuldig grinned and leaned against the door.
“I took a consensus poll among the warriors, Crawford,” he fixed the American with a gaze that wasn't quite pity, but also wasn't quite hateful either. “The people don't like you, and they called for something to be done.”
Crawford struggled for breath, coughing blood onto his chest. His lips formed the telepath's name, but they would not speak it.
Schuldig came closer, leaning over him so his face was inches away. “This is why you should never trust a murderer, Brad. Eventually, he tires of you, and has you killed. Enjoy eternity in Hel, asshole.” With that he leaned forward and kissed Crawford's forehead, before turning to Farfarello.
“There, now you have your Heavenly Father.”
Farfarello smiled. “And you have the pledge of my army.”
“Wonderful,” Schuldig replied, as he turned to leave the room.
All he'd ever wanted in life was a little fun and excitement, a little violence and murder. He'd never expected to get a whole world.
Recipient: Daegaer
Author: wispykitty
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Crawford has foreseen the end of the world, and it is Ragnarok. (Schwarz & the Norse Gods!)
Warnings: Being that is about the end of the world, there is some death (though not as finite).
By the end of the journey Schuldig had come to realize the difference that came with Odin's blessing. Nine days and nine nights of hard travel, yet he was not tired, and his body did not ache from riding a horse non-stop. He was currently standing at the gates of Hel, the reigns of his horse held tightly in his hand as he waited for admittance. Farfarello stood near him, while Nagi remained on his horse.
“You know what you are to do when we leave you here, Farfarello?” Schuldig looked beside him at the Irishman, who nodded.
“I know, and it will be done. Even if I have to leave this place and enter Jotunheim myself to rip apart the ship with my own hands, I will do so. Whatever it takes to ensure failure for he who lies.”
Schuldig smiled and felt at ease. It had been tough, getting Farfarello to comply, and had included Schuldig setting false memories within the mind of the Irishman. Though he still fought against Crawford, he now thought that Schuldig was also against the American, in that he wanted to take control of the land for himself. The false memories were of Crawford discussing the need for Naglfar, that the ship would transport Hel's dead and frost giants to help the gods battle the sons of Muspell, giants from the land of fire. As long as they kept Farfarello from speaking around others, it was fairly simple to have him believe these falsities.
“The gate's open.”
Schuldig looked forward at Nagi's urging, noting that the gate was indeed open. With a smirk on his lips he led his horse into the realm of Loki's daughter, his eyes roaming over the land. It was as one would expect it to be - dark and cold. Though he felt the cold, it did not bother him as it would have had he been mortal still. He led his group further in, walking the path towards Hel's palace, Eljudnir.
Once there they were greeted by the figure of a woman, stooped over and tired. Her hair was black, her skin sallow, and her dress the dreariest of material and design. She did not have a pleasant demeanor. “Who are you, those three that have come here not by death's design, but of their own will?”
Schuldig stepped forward. “We are newly appointed gods, sent by Odin to speak with your mistress. We are here to retrieve Odin's son, Baldr.”
This news did not please her, but she could not turn them away. Everyone who came to seek the ruler of this land would be admitted, and it would be for Hel herself to decide what would be done with them. So she led them into the hall, bidding them to leave their mounts at the steps and that they would be tended to. They walked down a long hallway and she pointed to a room on the right.
They entered and saw, finally, seated upon a throne of basalt rock, the frightening visage of Hel. “I do not recognize your faces, you who come to me still breathing. Come closer and tell me who you are and what you seek,” she did not move from her throne.
Schuldig approached first, both intrigued and horrified by the mere look of her, with skin that was half-black, and half-flesh. Her face was twisted in a frown, and her hair was wild and tangled. Through the slits in her dress it was evident that though the upper portion of her body was that of a young woman, the bottom half showed signs of old age and disease, the skin mottled and grey. The mere look of her was nearly putrid.
“I am Schuldig, appointed a god by the hand of Odin himself.”
Hel laughed, and her laughter was throaty and grating. “You speak of Odin as though I should respect him,” she fixed the telepath with a slight glare.
Schuldig did not waver in her line of sight. “Odin is not your concern at the moment. We are here to bring Baldr back to Asgard. You will give him to us.” Not bothering to wait, Schuldig jumped straightaway into her mind, sifting through the murky depths, pulling out every memory he could find of the god.
“Baldr?” Hel sat up in her throne, her expression growing even more unpleasant. “I have already been through this. He remains here, with me. There is nothing you can offer me to change my mind.”
“You mistake me for someone who needs to make offers in order to attain results.” Schuldig was surprised at the ease with which he was able to rearrange the woman's head - a result of Odin's blessing, or a sign of Hel's weakness? She was not, after all, a full goddess.
There was silence for a few minutes as Schuldig worked. Hel did not speak, as though engaged in an internal struggle to retain comprehension of the subject at hand. The struggle was not long lasted, though, and soon there was no memory left of Baldr at all. Hel looked at the telepath, a confused expression on her face. “Were we discussing something?”
Schuldig smiled and shook his head. “Only that we must be going, but that our friend Farfarello will remain behind with you. He has a request to make of you, but for that he does not need us.” Schuldig sunk back into the shadows, followed by Nagi, as Farfarello approached the throne of the queen of the underworld.
“Farfarello, is that your name?” Hel looked down at the man standing before her, still slightly muddled from the work of Schuldig.
Farfarello nodded. “It is.”
“And what is it you want with me?”
Farfarello climbed the first step to the throne. “Where do the dead arrive when you receive them?”
Hel watched as he came closer, intrigued. “Through the front gate.”
He climbed the second step. “Where is the ship Naglfar?”
“Docked in Gjoll,” was her answer, and still she regarded him curiously. “Why are you asking?”
Farfarello frowned. “The ship is not in Jotunheim?”
“No,” Hel said, “it's not finished being built yet. It will sail to Jotunheim when construction is finished.”
Farfarello nodded. This news made his job that much easier. “Would you show it to me?”
Hel frowned. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I must destroy it.”
There was silence as Hel contemplated Farfarello's comment. Surely, there was something more to this man than what appeared on the surface? “What makes you think I will allow you to destroy it, when it is my people who build it?”
“Because destroying the ship will bring about the downfall of Odin and the gods. I am correct in assuming that would be to your liking?” He was now at the top step, and looked down at the still seated figure of Hel.
“You are wrong on one count, correct on the other,” she spoke, looking up at him. “I hold no love for Odin, but the ship will set sail not to help him, but to bring forth troops to attack him.”
“You are wrong,” Farfarello replied, shaking his head. “The giants of Jotunheim will ride forth to battle the sons of Muspell, who would see the world rent in flames.”
Hel reached out, touching Farfarello's hand. “Someone has lied to you. All Jotun seek the destruction of the gods. They do not go to war with one another.”
Farfarello frowned. That was impossible. He looked down at his hand and saw her fingers pressing lightly into his skin. “I have suffered many lies in my life time.”
“While I hold no compassion, and show no pity, my friend I can tell you that I do not lie. You have been deceived again.” Hel released his arm and shifted slightly on her throne.
Farfarello felt the rumblings of rage beginning to stir in his stomach. Who was he to believe?
“Who sent you here?”
Farfarello looked down at her and frowned. Schuldig, but he did not want to believe that the telepath had lied. Perhaps it was all a part of a bigger web of deceit perpetrated by Crawford as God?
“Was it Odin?”
Farfarello focused the sight of his one golden eye upon her. “A friend of Odin.”
“Do you consider yourself a friend of Odin?”
Farfarello shook his head. “I am a friend to no one.”
Hel regarded him quietly for a moment before speaking. “What if you were a friend to me? It seems as though we both have enemies, and that our enemies are friends.”
“Which makes the enemies of our enemies our friends,” Farfarello replied, staring down at the woman.
Hel smiled.
Getting Baldr out of Hel was a bit tougher than Schuldig had expected. For one thing - he refused to leave if his wife Nanna could not accompany him. As a second problem, Schuldig could not find their horses. He had no idea where they'd been taken, and he'd sent Nagi off to search for them.
By the time Nagi had returned (with two horses) Schuldig had relented and told Baldr that they would bring Nanna with them out of Hel. It was a lie, of course, and he was currently trying to persuade both of them that they would indeed be happier on their own. While Nanna's mind had been somewhat easier to turn, Baldr was being a problem.
“What do you mean you've changed your mind? You are my wife, you go wherever I go!”
Nanna sat on the steps, hugging her knees. “That is my decision. I do not want to leave.”
Baldr looked at her in confusion, as though ready to throw her over the horse himself if need be. “But you were desperate to go only minutes ago! I don't understand what could prompt you to change your mind so suddenly! You followed me into Hel, and now you refuse to follow me back out?” He knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his. “Nanna, please, reconsider! You do realize that we will be separated if you remain?”
“I do,” she pulled her hand out of his. “I am tired, Baldr. I do not wish to make the trip back to Asgard.”
As Baldr continued to confront his wife, Schuldig wished he'd been able to manage a cleaner break between the two. He knew it was slightly sloppy, this sudden change of heart and mind. But then he supposed it didn't really matter much anyway, not for where Baldr was going. If need dictated, he would simply have Nagi force Baldr away from Nanna, and keep him under restraint until they reached their next destination.
He quickly made his way to Nagi, taking the reigns of one horse. “I'm having a little trouble with him,” was all he managed to get out before Nagi shook his head and approached the pair.
“Baldr, we're leaving now.” Nagi stood before the pair, ready to force the god onto the horse. To his surprise, that wouldn't be necessary. Baldr strode forward and grasped the reigns out of Nagi's hands, mounting the horse.
Nagi and Schuldig shot each other furtive glances, surprised at Baldr's sudden retreat. Schuldig mounted the other horse first, and helped Nagi up behind him. They both glanced back at Nanna, who remained seated on the steps, before heading off after Baldr.
Noticing that they had finally caught up, Baldr looked at Schuldig and sighed. “Women,” he said, in a sad tone, “they confuse me! Do you think I should go back for her?”
Schuldig shook his head. “No, she has made her decision. Besides, we are on a tight schedule. We must return to Asgard as soon as possible.” He slid into Baldr's mind, trying in vain to influence the god to leave his wife behind without a second thought.
Baldr still struggled with him, though he did not turn back. They rode on, and Schuldig hoped they would encounter no more trouble. He'd been so preoccupied with Baldr that he had not thought to check in on Farfarello before leaving him behind.
“Where are we going? I thought you said we were headed for Asgard,” Baldr questioned Schuldig, feeling ill at ease.
“We are, there is just somewhere we must stop first.” They were nearing the area now, and in the distance Schuldig could make out a large figure moving in the shadows, coiling and uncoiling, slithering it's length around the branches of a tree. And there, underneath, tended to by his wife, was Loki.
Make sure he follows us, Nagi, Schuldig knew he would not be able to control Baldr when he noticed the being who'd caused his brother to loose the arrow that killed him, so it was really best to have Nagi forcibly keep him here. There was no response from the telekinetic, but when Schuldig next glanced at Baldr, he noticed him sitting perfectly erect upon his horse, his eyes wild but his mouth clamped firmly shut. Schuldig smiled.
They neared the tree under which Loki had been imprisoned, and first met the eyes of his wife Sigyn. She sat near her husband, a bowl held out in her hands, catching the venom that dripped from the fang of the snake. She eyed them curiously, clearly not expecting any company.
“Who goes there?”
Schuldig dismounted from his horse and walked over to her, extending a hand to take the bowl from her. She seemed reluctant to let it go. “It's alright, Sigyn, allow me to take over for a moment. Your arm must be tired. Allow me to hold the bowl while I discuss some matters with your husband.” She nodded and sat back, watchful though as Schuldig indeed continued to hold the bowl and catch the venom.
“I do not know your face, friend, tell me your name?” Loki eyed the German curiously from his place upon the rock, upon which he was bound by three shackles.
“Schuldig, a newly appointed god picked by Odin himself.”
Loki's eyes narrowed, and a bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Odin! And he sends you here to me? Are you here to bring forth my death?”
Schuldig shook his head and smiled. “No. I am here to offer you a deal.”
Loki's head tilted slightly, and it was then that he turned his head to see Nagi and Baldr. His eyes grew large at the sight of the god he'd had killed. “Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Baldr?”
“Your eyes see clearly. Now focus your attention on me, friend, so that I might make you the offer.”
“And what will you do if I refuse your offer?” Loki turned his head again to face Schuldig.
“Kill Baldr and leave you here. It would be much less troublesome, however, if you were to comply.” He leaned down over the god, his fingers touching Loki's temple. The god bristled at his touch, but then was still. Schuldig had drawn him into his mind, much the same way he had been drawn into Crawford's. In this setting, Loki was no longer chained, and he stood, looking around him.
“What trickery is this, friend? Where have you brought me?”
Schuldig grinned and folded his arms over his chest. “That's not important right now. Just know that here is a plane upon which no one can overhear us.”
Loki laughed. “Why the need? Did you not know that none can overhear me? None can see me? Why do you think I have gotten away with so much in my lifetime? Neither Heimdall nor Odin knew of my exploits when I roamed free!”
“Of course, but what good does that do you now, chained to a rock?” Schuldig was patient as Loki stretched his limbs and moved freely around. “But you are wrong, however, on one thing.”
“Oh? And what's that?” Loki returned to his side, peering curiously into Schuldig's eyes.
“I can hear you. Your thoughts flow to me as plain as day.”
“Impossible! I have created a cloud around me, impenetrable to any and all who seek to gain knowledge of my thoughts and actions!” Loki was not pleased, and fixed the telepath with a glare.
Schuldig, however, remained calm (though he wanted to gloat and harass the god into compliance). “Allow me to demonstrate, will you?” Loki frowned and grumbled, but accepted.
“If you fail, though, you must release me!”
Schuldig smiled in return. “If you listen, you will see that it is within my plans to release you anyway. But first we must discuss what you will do for me.” At that he had the god's attention, and he continued. “We who have come here from Midgard are a group of four, who were summoned by prophecies of our own to offer aid to the gods during the events of Ragnarok.” Loki frowned at this comment, but Schuldig pushed on. “We have decided, however, that we do not wish to aid the gods. We will appear to, but when the end approaches, we will turn on them and take Asgard for ourselves.”
Loki crossed his arms and pondered the thought. “And where does that leave me?”
“We would like to make you ruler. You have been done an injustice by those who have bound you here, and we would like to be of aid in repaying them for their misdeeds.”
“And why not simply keep Asgard for yourselves? Why do you need me?”
Schuldig did not rush his explanation, knowing that this was their only chance of swaying the trickster god to their side. “We are new gods, Loki, only recently given rank. Only a week ago, we were mortals from Midgard. We know what happens to lands when those new in power take them. They fail. We need a ruler with experience, who knows each of the nine worlds connected by Yggdrasil.”
“But why me? You have Baldr, why not him?”
“Our positions as gods are contingent upon his successful return to his parents. That is the sole reason why we have taken him from Hel.”
Loki was still confused. “But with Baldr, you return one of their own to the gods. Surely that will sway momentum in their favour still?”
Schuldig smiled, the same way he was used to seeing Crawford smile when releasing the final bit of information that would settle their plans. “It would, were we bringing him back.”
“But I thought you said...” Loki trailed off, curious eyes still fixed to Schuldig, looking as though he were struggling to piece together this puzzle.
“We will leave Baldr here, and bring you back.”
Realization dawned upon the god's face, and he smiled. “I will be Baldr.”
“Yes.” Schuldig felt his stomach muscles cramp from having to keep his excitement from showing. The plan was working!
“When will I show my true self?”
“This we must now discuss. If you'd like to have a seat?” He pointed to two chairs that had appeared. They were not as nice as the ones Crawford could conjure, but then the American had been practicing this ability of drawing others into his mind for much longer than Schuldig had.
Though they had spoken for hours, the trance-like state that had overcome the two on the ground only appeared to last seconds to any who watched. Schuldig motioned to Nagi. “He has agreed. Come, and bring Baldr.”
Nagi dismounted from the horse and moved over towards where Loki lay upon the rock. The horse carrying Baldr approached them as well, and stopped before Schuldig. Nagi leaned down to examine the bonds that kept Loki in place. “How are we going to do this?” He looked over at the German, who grinned and knew exactly what he asked by that question.
“We've been blessed, so it seems! Loki has created a cloud around him, so that we can neither be seen nor heard, when with him.”
Nagi's eyes widened in intrigue upon hearing that. “Well, that makes things much simpler.” He touched the shackles with his fingers. “I thought these were made of the entrails of your son?”
“They were, but they turned to steel.” Loki pulled at the shackles, showing their strength and durability.
“That's of no concern, I suppose.” He fixed his eyes on the ring that held Loki's right hand, and concentrated. The steel was tougher than that to be found in their land, but eventually it gave way, snapping open. Loki pulled his hand from it and stared, transfixed.
“How did you do that? You wield no weapon!”
Nagi did not respond, instead concentrating and snapping open the remaining bonds. Loki did not need to be told to move. Springing forward from the rock, he stood and massaged his wrists. Schuldig laid the bowl on the rock, and moved toward the horse upon which Baldr sat.
With Loki watching, the German pulled the god down from the horse and sat him upon the rock where Loki had just been. Holding the bowl back up again, Schuldig watched as Nagi snapped the bonds on Baldr's wrists, securing him to the rock. He released Baldr from the imposed paralysis he'd placed him under and stepped back, watching as the god thrashed and tested the steel rings that now held him, while his murderer stood free.
“Release me! When Odin hears of this treachery-”
“And who will tell him?” Schuldig stood to the side, and moved the bowl slightly, allowing one drop of the serpent's poison to hit Baldr on the forehead, causing him to scream and thrash anew. He quickly moved the bowl back. “You have shown me that you are unable to cooperate fully, Baldr. Therefore I regret to inform you that I must leave you here, but that I will not leave you intact.”
“What do you mean?” Baldr glared at Schuldig, who smiled in return.
“I cannot take a chance that Heimdall will hear your cries for help, so I must destroy your mind.” He knelt beside him, a predatory look on his face. He let go of the bowl to concentrate better, and Baldr flinched, expecting a cascade of venomous liquid to fall over his face. But it was held in place by Nagi, and so Schuldig began rifling through the mind of Odin's favoured son, destroying the memories, destroying the patterns of thought. It took some time, since the god had been living for many years, but eventually there was nothing left but a blank hole, and Baldr was empty. Schuldig stood back and leaned against the horse.
They were going to win.
“How will we deal with Fenrir? Though I had come to accept my fate, if it can indeed be avoided then I do not wish to be swallowed by the wolf.” Odin sat with Crawford, still working out the events of Ragnarok.
“It can be avoided,” Crawford answered, “and Vidar will need to act swiftly. He must be ready to meet the wolf as he breaks free of his chains. Freyr will accompany him.”
“Will he not be needed to battle Surtr?” Odin asked, contemplative.
“Remember, Surtr and his fire jotnar will not cross the Bifrost. Nagi will handle them.”
Odin nodded. “Right, that is correct. So Freyr and Vidar will set forth immediately to the place in which Fenrir has been chained.”
Crawford nodded, “Yes, that would be best. He will be released before they meet him, but together the two will see the great wolf perish.”
“You have seen this?”
“I have.” Crawford met Odin's eyes, and spoke to him in a calm but assertive manner.
Odin sat back in his chair, his hand stroking his chin. “I am grateful towards whatever force of nature has brought you to my land, Crawford. Perhaps it was Yggdrasil herself, providing aid to those who work hard to see her thrive.”
“Perhaps,” Crawford replied, taking a sip from a glass of wine. Perhaps not, he thought.
Farfarello stood at the dock beside Hel, watching as her people filed onto the ship, battle-ready and eager to be off. He and Hel had grown close quickly, hatching their own plan to bring about the destruction of their enemies. In place of Loki, Farfarello would sail the ship Naglfar to the plains of Vigridr, stopping along the way to pick up Hrym and the frost jotnar.
He had proposed his plan to Hel in which he would ensure that Schuldig would be named ruler of Asgard, and Hel surprised him by disagreeing. “Do you not want the realm for yourself?” She'd asked, and he'd pondered the thought a moment before responding.
“No,” he'd said, “I will not live among the land where my enemy was created and where he flourished,” he'd told her, much preferring to return here, to join her in ruling the dead. She told him to do as he wished, and that should he return, he would be welcome to remain.
And so now he watched as the ship was packed, and he turned to Hel. “I will avenge the wrong that was committed against you, as I shall too avenge the wrong that was committed against me.”
Hel nodded and touched his face. “I wish for your swift success, and hope you will bring us new subjects when you return to me.”
Farfarello nodded. “I will do that.” Then he left her on the dock, and boarded the ship. He stood behind the wheel, looking out into the roiling waters that stretched before him and between the lands. His time was approaching. All gods would suffer and perish at his hand.
The following day saw Vidar and Freyr set off for the island of Lyngvi, that place where Fenrir was bound. Crawford had stood at Odin's side as he sent them off, watching as they rode away over the plains. They then returned to the hall, intent on hammering out a few more potential problems. When they sat back two hours later, with everything planned for and plotted, they picked up their glasses of wine and Odin made a toast to their success. As they drank from the glasses, though, a sound blasted through the room that made them stop.
Gullinkambi crowed.
Odin looked up into the face of Crawford. “And so it begins.”
They were still a day away from Asgard, but Schuldig had sensed that perhaps something was amiss.
“Do you feel it too?” Nagi asked him, “a stirring in the air?”
“As though the end of the world was near?” Schuldig replied, and nodded.
“It is the shaking of Yggdrasil, my friends. The great tree feels the coming of war, and worries that her lands will be torn asunder!” Beside them rode Loki, who'd overheard their exchange and butted in with an explanation.
Schuldig nodded. “Has it begun?”
Loki shrugged. “Who can say for certain anymore? With your arrival, things have changed. The final battle will not occur as it was foretold to occur, but in a different way, with different outcomes.”
“As long as we arrive before the battle begins so that Odin may see you as Baldr, then I'm not concerned about anything else,” Schuldig spoke, urging his horse on.
“Then my friends, let us make haste, for we are not far from the lands of my brethren!” Loki spurred his horse, leading Schuldig and Nagi. Though he'd wanted to remain as his normal self until they reached the gods, Schuldig had bade Loki to transform into Baldr and remain as the slain son of Odin. He would not risk anyone seeing the god for who he truly was.
Farfarello stood on the bridge, feeling frosty water splash over his cheeks and soak his hair. It did not bother him, of course, as it never had before. They were approaching the dock in Jotunheim, and from here he could see Hrym and his people waiting in a line. The giants were not as large as he had been expecting, but still of significant size to make them useful in the battle. He would speak with Hrym, and ensure the Jotun leader had the same outcome in mind for the battle.
If his ideals differed, and they were not to Farfarello's liking, then he would have no choice but to kill the giant himself, and hope that it would send a message to his people that there was to be only one captain on this crew, and it would be him.
The following morning found Crawford being awoken by the sound of a loud horn, and he knew, then, that the beginning of Ragnarok was set. He was worried slightly that Schuldig and Nagi had still not returned. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he tried once more to force a vision of when they would arrive. His last three attempts had been unsuccessful, and he'd found that slightly bothersome.
This morning proved differently, though. A brief glimpse was all he needed to see. He stood up and made his way out of the room and towards the room of Odin. Halfway there the god emerged from the doors, glancing to his right and seeing Crawford.
“You remember our agreement, don't you?” Odin spoke gravely, and did not even need to mention what this morning signified.
“I do, and I have news. Though they are not here yet, Schuldig will bring Baldr to us when we meet at the well of Urdarbrunn. I have seen it,” he explained, and felt relieved when the god smiled.
“Wonderful! To ride into battle with my son at my side! Surely deceitful Loki will recoil when he sees this.” Odin returned to his room, bidding Crawford to follow him. “For now, though, I must dress in my armor. Frigg, if you would help?”
The goddess, who was already assembling the suit on their bed, nodded. “Of course, everything is prepared for you already, husband.”
Crawford watched as the golden armor was slid over the god's body, and his thoughts lay in their plans. If things went according to the vision he'd received, in exactly five hours time Vidar and Freyr would be meeting Fenrir upon the rocks, and there they would do battle with the monstrous wolf. Crawford had not bothered to tell Odin that while Vidar would survive the struggle as was foretold, Freyr would not, and would take the place of Odin in Fenrir's belly.
There were many things he did not tell Odin.
Farfarello stood on the deck, exactly where he'd been standing throughout the journey, looking out over the water, waiting anxiously for a sign of land. It should not be too far off now, according to the maps. Hrym had boarded with his people and had spoken with Farfarello. The leader of the giants agreed with Farfarello's proposals of slaughtering all gods, and saw no reason for them to quarrel. He had since retreated below deck with his people, and Farfarello remained up top, hands firmly gripping the rail in case of a big wave.
“Farfarello!”
He looked over his shoulder, to see the man he'd left in charge of steering the ship calling to him.
“Yes?”
“If you look through the telescope, you will see Asgard on the horizon!”
Farfarello moved finally, walking across the deck to climb the ladder up to the captain's chamber. Entering, he took the telescope that was offered and put it to his eye, staring through it in the direction the man had pointed.
He gasped in a mixture of shock and delight - they were close! “How long until we land?”
“Not long, perhaps an hour.”
Farfarello smiled.
“Should we keep to the foretold events, then? Will the outcomes differ?” Thor posed the question - obviously curious if he himself would survive his fated battle with the serpent Jormungandr.
“For the most part, yes. There will be no ship setting sail to bring forth the frost jotun, for it has been dismantled by Farfarello. Likewise, Hel's troops will not arrive upon our shore. Loki will still find his way here, though he will come later than expected. Fenrir is being dispatched now by Freyr and Vidar.”
“And the sons of Muspel? Will they reach our shores?” The one handed god Tyr asked.
“No, they will not reach the Bifrost bridge. They will be entombed in stone upon the other side.” Odin answered, a smile on his face. “So the bridge will not break.”
“What of the wolf, Garmr?”
“He will be killed by Farfarello.”
“So then we do not have many foes to worry ourselves with, do we?” Thor asked.
“No, my son, we do not.” Odin smiled at the group.
Throughout the exchange Crawford kept his eyes on the mountain range that separated Jotunheim from Midgard, and kept his ears peeled for that German accented voice. Towards the end of the conversation, it was heard finally. He turned to Odin.
“I apologize for interrupting, but if you turn your head to the west, there may you feast your eyes upon your son, returned from Hel.” He pointed in the general direction that the two horses were approaching from, and felt relief flood through him when he saw Schuldig's mane of red hair flying behind him, no doubt causing Nagi great nuisance.
The gods exclaimed of this surprise and watched, transfixed, as the horses approached. Before them, on a horse of purest white, sat Baldr, son of Odin, beloved brother to the gods of Asgard.
“Baldr! Surely our eyes deceive us! How can this be?” Hermod was the first to advance, curious as to how this pair had secured his release.
“Brother Hermod, it is like water to the parched earth, the vision of you!” Loki descended from the horse, clasping the god's outstretched arms. “But where is my father?”
Odin stepped forward, his face nearly split in two from the smile it sported. “Baldr! Though Crawford assured me of our reunion, my heart did not believe it! You arrive just in time for our success,” Odin clasped Baldr in a tight embrace, his hand reaching out to pat the god's hair. “It's a shame your mother will not see you until this is all over, but what a joyous reunion it shall make!”
Crawford strode forward to meet with Schuldig and Nagi, his eyes locking on the German. “I was worried you wouldn't make it in time,” he smiled.
Schuldig grinned back at him. “But we did, and everything is set.”
“Everything?” Crawford shot him a knowing look, one that asked more than the question he'd uttered from his mouth.
Schuldig nodded, fully aware of all implications. “Everything.”
Smiling and turning then to Nagi, Crawford reached out a hand to grasp the Japanese youth's shoulder, an odd gesture for him. “You've performed well, but now it is time for you to be off with Heimdall.”
Nagi nodded, though he found himself slightly confused by Crawford's words. The American had said he'd performed well. He'd not done anything, though. But that was not really important, as he did need to leave with Heimdall. He bid the American goodbye, and turned to seek out his companion god.
Crawford felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look at Schuldig, who was grinning. Without mention of it, he pulled the German into that perfectly crafted spot buried in the deep recess of his head.
“And why do you look so pleased, Schuldig?”
The German shrugged. “Excitement, I suppose. You should know, though, that I had to erase all memory of this from Nagi's head. While I don't believe he would slip up, he will be alone with Heimdall, and a thought may slip out that could send us all to our deaths. Or worse, if you'd seen what they'd done to Loki.”
Crawford frowned. “I supposed that couldn't be avoided. What have you done with Baldr?”
“He's lying in place of Loki, being tended to by Sigyn. She agreed to remain there until such time came that the bonds would break on their own. She wanted to come with Loki, of course, but she understood what that would mean for all of us.”
Crawford nodded. “That's good.”
“Baldr is no longer himself, though, I'm afraid. I had no choice but to destroy him, though of course leave him breathing. There is nothing left in his head.”
Crawford grinned, pleased with that news. “You gave this all a lot of thought. I'm impressed.”
Schuldig shrugged again. “I believe you happen to be wearing off on me.”
Nagi crossed the remainder of the Bifrost bridge with Heimdall, and they were accompanied by Hoenir and Vali, along with a host of warriors from Valhalla. Odin had decided that instead of simply encasing the fire jotun, he would send an army to destroy them before they ever made it to the bridge. Crawford had agreed, and had told the god that the decision was a wise one.
His vision though told him otherwise. All of Odin's warriors would fall in combat to the giants, and the only ones who would survive were Nagi, and Heimdall. By the time Odin would come to see this, though, it would be too late.
Nagi remained upon Gulltoppr, the horse belonging to Heimdall (whom he had shared with the god on their way to the other side of the Bifrost). They were not, as he'd expected, back in Lapland. Instead, as Heimdall had explained to him, they were on a plain that connected Midgard to Muspelheim, the land of the fire jotun. This plane existed so it would never be necessary for the giants to enter Midgard itself if they wished to access the bridge. The idea confused him, since he'd thought that the fire jotun were never intended to cross the bridge anyway, so he did not understand why anyone would make concessions for them to do so.
Heimdall walked at the head of the group, leading the warriors forward, ever closer to the land of fire. Suddenly, on the horizon, their enemies were spotted.
Nagi remained calm and watched the group as it surged forward, eager they were to engage the giants in combat and therefore alter the course of fate. His eyes searched for the leader, Surtr, for he had a mission of his own to undertake. Their success depended upon it.
Farfarello was back at the head of the ship, his crew surrounding him. There before them lay the shores of Vigridr, and around his ship the water surged, and as he looked down he saw the massive body of the world serpent, Jormungandr, as it bore them forward upon his back.
Destiny was upon them, and he would meet his enemy in combat finally. His face was twisted with rapturous passion, and he clasped the sword that Hel had given him as a present to demonstrate their friendship before he'd left. He would be victorious, of that much he was certain.
The God Crawford would fall, and it would be by Farfarello's hand.
Crawford stood beside Odin, and Schuldig stood beside the American, and together they watched as a ship sailed toward the shore of Vigridr. Crawford had not seen this.
Do you think Farfarello failed? Crawford could not comprehend how he had not foreseen this. Perhaps he'd been concentrating too hard upon everything else?
Not exactly,, Schuldig answered, feeling for a moment as though he did not want to tell Crawford all of the details. He's sailing the ship.
Crawford tensed, and continued staring ahead. What exactly do you mean, he's sailing the ship?
Schuldig frowned, as he listened in on the thoughts that were now close enough for him to hear. He and Hel have devised a plan of their own. He comes to see you put to death.
Crawford was silent as he pondered this news. How would he present this to Odin? How could he cover up for his mistake? Fuck, was his only answer to the German.
Schuldig could not help but grin, though he knew this day would likely see the death of one of the two people he considered himself closest to. His biggest problem, though, was choosing which one he would support.
Farfarello watched, safe from his vantage point upon the ship, as Thor surged out to the river, intent on nothing more than meeting his foe in battle. The Irishman had to keep from jumping over the side of the ship himself, wanting nothing more than to plunge his sword through the heart of the God he so despised. They engaged in battle, and Farfarello watched as more of Odin's warriors surged forward, lashing out towards the great serpent, quick to come to the aid of the god of thunder, before the ship crashed upon the shore and spilled out the giants and warriors of the underworld.
He glanced along the beach, searching out the one he himself wished to do battle with.
Farfarello; instead he heard a voice in his mind.
Schuldig, he responded, searching the beach anew for his friend.
Have you changed your mind, then? Who do you bring forth upon your ship?
He has lied to us both, Schuldig! The frost jotnar and warriors of Hel do not seek to see Odin put upon the throne, but they seek his destruction!
Really? Who did you hear this from?
Hel has told me. She has imparted to me much knowledge. We are united in our common enemy, she and I!
I see, Schuldig replied. Would you like me to leave Crawford alive for you?
Yes.
Nagi sat astride Gulltoppr, and rode out to meet Surtr, armed with nothing but his telekinetic skill. All around him the warriors were fighting with the frost giants, for there were many more jotun than there were Einherjar. Heimdall himself took on three jotun at once.
Nagi turned his attention to Surtr. The giant stood before him, a gleaming sword held aloft in his grip, shouting some words that Nagi chose to ignore. Not bothering to look to his own safety, he concentrated his power upon the giant, flying inside the being's body, traveling along his veins and through to his heart. There the telekinetic focused his power, and within seconds the lord of the frost jotnar fell to the ground, his heart exploded within his chest.
Nagi floated the gleaming sword to his own hand, a smile upon his lips. Neither god nor mythical being could prove to be a match for his own power.
He means to destroy you, you know, Schuldig stood beside Crawford, watching as the ship broke upon the shore and hundreds of dead warriors spilled out to meet the warriors awaiting them on the beach.
I realize that, thank you, Crawford replied.
What do you want me to do? Schuldig was still conflicted, but preferred to weigh his options before casting his ballot.
Let him come for me. Don't concern yourself.
Schuldig thought the American underestimate Farfarello's power, but he did not bother saying so. As you wish.
Nagi did not wield the sword that he held, but instead utilized his power, breaking the bodies of the jotun with mind alone. No fire would cross the Bifrost today. He looked around him, witnessing the carnage. Vali lay upon the ground, his body pierced many times over by the fiery rods of the sons of Muspell. Hoenir himself was cornered by five of the giants, and Nagi watched as they cut off his head. He could do nothing else but snap their necks, watching as all five fell in succession.
Many of their warriors lay dead upon the ground, and Nagi focused his powers upon the living jotun, watching as they fell and looking around for more.
His eyes met those of Heimdall, who was still standing. The god motioned toward the bridge, and Nagi understood. He drove Gulltoppr toward the Bifrost, and it was there that he waited for Heimdall, who leapt up behind him.
Looking back out toward the fiery plain that separated Muspelheim from Midgard, he called forth the stone from the mountain of Asgard, and sent it crashing down upon the remainder of the fire jotun's army.
Bifrost was safe.
The American and the German remained behind the line of combat, surveying the field and watching as Thor battled the world serpent. Already the fight had lasted longer than it should have, but it would soon end. Thor smashed his hammer down upon the serpent's mouth, cracking teeth and sending them spraying out over the land. Odin and Loki had since departed, riding out together into the midst of the battle.
Odin was at Tyr's side, aiding him as he battled the wolf Garmr, who had been the first being to leap from the side of the ship Naglfar. The beast was ferocious, and had already killed twenty warriors before Tyr had reached him.
Currently he had his jaws clamped over the head of Tyr, and hoisted the god into the air, shaking him from side to side, until finally he threw the body into the water, where the god proceeded to drown. He was left to face Odin, who drove his spear into the side of Garmr's neck. The beast plummeted to the ground, thrashing in pain.
Everything was going according to Crawford's plan still, even though Farfarello had shown up with the ship.
Nagi spurred Gulltoppr forward, into the heart of the battle. He felt Heimdall slip off behind him, and rounded his course, making his way toward the rear of the field. Schuldig?
I see you, keep coming straight, you'll find us; the telepath watched as Nagi burst through the ranks of warriors and came to stop before them.
Dismounting from the horse, Nagi produced a gleaming sword. “From the hands of Surtr, as requested,” he offered the sword to Crawford, who took it with a smile.
Holding it in his hands, Crawford did not fear even the unpredictability of Farfarello. He had in his hands a sword that would fight battles on its own. What more could he possibly require?
Farfarello strode forward onto the beach, his eyes drawn toward the battle that was occurring directly before him. Thor battled the world serpent Jormungandr, and all around them lay littered bodies of the freshly dead. He paused for a moment, watching as Thor plunged his sword through the head of the serpent. Jormungandr fell upon the sand, and for a moment it appeared as though Thor was victorious. But nine steps in and the god collapsed, as was foretold.
Farfarello continued forward. He cleaved his way through warriors, brandishing a path toward his own destination. God would fall today, and Farfarello would stand victorious.
Crawford watched as, in the distance, Thor fell to the serpent. All around him, the war was being waged on an even level. For every warrior of Hel that fell, so too did a warrior of the gods. Before him stood the figure of Heimdall, a questioning look upon his face. Perhaps he had spoken too hastily in his mind before the god?
Before he has a chance to question, though, a sword drove through the neck of the guardian deity. Heimdall fell, and behind him stood Loki, still disguised as Baldr.
Odin stopped at the death, his eyes upon what he believed to be his son. “What trickery is this?” He cried, “that my own son bring about the death of he who was believed to be our own last warrior?”
Suddenly the face of Baldr changed, and there was shown the face of Loki. “I have killed my last enemy, Odin. Would you consent to face me now?” The trickster god danced over the corpse of his enemy, and Odin emerged, enraged.
“I challenge you to death, mongrel!” He held aloft his spear, and Loki held his sword, and together they circled one another, while Crawford watched. Still holding the powerful sword in his hands, he did not fear the outcome of this battle. He would face and depose whoever emerged victorious.
Nagi stood beside Schuldig, his powers creating a barrier between them and the warriors who surrounded them. What is supposed to be the outcome of this? Nagi asked.
Schuldig replied, I believe we are awaiting the moment when Odin kills Loki, he answered, and after that, Crawford will kill Odin.
Nagi nodded. It appeared simple enough.
Farfarello found himself detained momentarily, engaged in a struggle for battle he had not anticipated. The newly arrived Vidar, who had slain Fenrir but watched as Freyr died, had charged upon the shores of Vigridr. There he met the sword of Farfarello, as it twisted and turned and carved out his heart.
The Irishman continued forward, searching only for Crawford. His eyes caught the movement of red hair in the distance, and he surged forward, certain that where Schuldig dwelt, so too did Crawford.
He's coming, Schuldig warned, his eyes scanning the crowded plain before him for a sign of the Irishman.
Let him come, Crawford responded, not worried. He had the sword, and he had the telepath, and so too did he have the telekinetic. Farfarello would do him no harm.
As you wish, Schuldig replied, standing to the side as he watched the crowd around him. He saw Nagi off to the right, his eyes also watchful. He then glanced toward the center of the plain, where Odin still battled Loki. Would you like us to end this, given that Farfarello is near? He asked Crawford curiously.
Though I long to say no, perhaps that is a wise decision. Kill Loki, Crawford answered, as his eyes watched the pair before him struggle.
Schuldig did not answer, but instead spoke words of advice to Nagi, who concentrated upon the body of Loki, forcing it still as the spear of Odin's met it and plunged through.
Odin watched as his nemesis fell to the ground. “Who else, then, will challenge me?” All around him the cheers of those warriors still living swelled.
Crawford stepped forward. “You have lived for too long,” he said, before releasing the sword he held aloft, and watching as it plunged into the chest of the god. Odin fell at his feet.
Farfarello watched as Odin fell, and felt a surge of excitement course through his body. Only one god to defeat now! He pushed and shoved and cleaved his way forward, until he stood before Crawford. The God offered him a smug look, and Farfarello frowned. He would wipe the God's face clean.
Crawford at last saw Farfarello advance upon him, and he set his sword in front of him, commanding it to meet any blows or parries of his enemy. He and Farfarello circled one another, and eventually the Irishman ended up underneath him, and Crawford stopped his blade just before it reached the Irishman's throat.
“Farfarello,” he spoke, “it appears as though we are at a crossroads.”
Farfarello narrowed his one good eye, glaring at Crawford. “You and I never stop before any barrier!”
Crawford laughed. “It is unfortunate your psychosis has finally taken hold of you. You could have been useful,” he said, before plunging his sword deep into the heart of the Irishman. “May Hel still accept you, though you are now half a man.” He pulled it out and held it high, for all the masses to see.
Asgard was his.
In the following days Crawford grabbed Asgard by the throat, asserting his brand of dominance over the realm and its people. Of those who did not fall during battle, Crawford ordered the deaths of Frigg and Freya, and made the remainder of those gods and goddesses swear upon their lives that they would follow him.
Nagi moved into the vacated palace of Himinbjorg, taking up Heimdall's position as guardian of the Bifrost. Though he did not possess the auditory skills of his predecessor, Schuldig was able to communicate with him easily from atop the mountain. This set up suited the three of them fine. Crawford and Schuldig enjoyed ruling the realm, while Nagi preferred silence and privacy.
Crawford kept the head of Mimir in his new study, seeking advice on it about the lands and races that still lived. He named Schuldig as his first in command, and gave him the warriors to oversee. It was a position that the telepath enjoyed immensely, and over time those remained still in Asgard grew to forgive the German for his part in the treachery. After all, he had only been following orders, they'd told themselves, and he was really quite pleasant to deal with, if you did as he asked.
Upon his death, Farfarello had been returned to Hel, who would have wept at his death had she been capable of tears. As it was, she did welcome him back and afforded him a place beside her on her throne, and a spot beside her in her bed. Though he was no longer alive, he was still among the living dead, and that was enough for her.
A month had passed since the time of the great betrayal, and it was the end of another day. Crawford had left Schuldig in the hall with the men, drinking mead and gnawing on ribs. He returned to his room, and prepared for bed. He was planning to travel to Vanaheim tomorrow to visit with Njord, the god he'd named ruler of that realm. Together they planned to speak with the frost jotun, to come to terms of agreement for a truce. Crawford did not believe any such truce would be held binding by the giants, but it looked rather good to his people, that he attempted to broach peace with such hateful creatures that populated the lands of their enemies.
After he dealt with them, he planned to enslave the dwarfs.
Climbing into his bed, he laid his head upon his pillow and closed his eyes, opening his mind to allow for any visions that happened to come to him. He recoiled suddenly as he saw the frightful face of Hel, staring at him from above. Opening his eyes he found that breath would not come to him, and looked down, only to see the end of a long knife protruding from his chest.
“Did you think I would not return?” The voice of Farfarello spoke into his ear, tinged with malice and hatred. “You who has given me nothing but lies and deceit, pain and death! Now comes my rebuttal. Now you journey to my realm, and there you shall call me master!” The knife slid out of him, and Crawford fell back, choking as blood came to his throat.
This was not happening! How had he not seen this? How has this vision escaped him?
“Shocking, isn't it?”
He looked towards the door, his expression taking on a note of confusion as he stared into the face of the German. Schuldig grinned and leaned against the door.
“I took a consensus poll among the warriors, Crawford,” he fixed the American with a gaze that wasn't quite pity, but also wasn't quite hateful either. “The people don't like you, and they called for something to be done.”
Crawford struggled for breath, coughing blood onto his chest. His lips formed the telepath's name, but they would not speak it.
Schuldig came closer, leaning over him so his face was inches away. “This is why you should never trust a murderer, Brad. Eventually, he tires of you, and has you killed. Enjoy eternity in Hel, asshole.” With that he leaned forward and kissed Crawford's forehead, before turning to Farfarello.
“There, now you have your Heavenly Father.”
Farfarello smiled. “And you have the pledge of my army.”
“Wonderful,” Schuldig replied, as he turned to leave the room.
All he'd ever wanted in life was a little fun and excitement, a little violence and murder. He'd never expected to get a whole world.