A la recherche du temps perdu (Mythklok, Chapter 62)
Title: A la recherche du temps perdu (Mythklok, Chapter 62)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Outings, past and future
Warnings: Nothing much for this chapter. Sahry.
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Mythklok started life as a Metalocalypse AU. Then I added in a bunch of not-so-original OCs, begged, borrowed and outright stolen from half-remembered bits of various myths and legends. It's now sorta morphed into a mutant monster.
Last time: It's Charles' long lost daughter! Only, not really. Also, more Adventures of L'il Ganesh and the Odinssons.
Many years ago....
It had all happened overnight.
Or so it seemed.
Ganesh had been the littlest in his family.
And then, like magic, he was the tallest.
It had actually occurred over a period of months. But it had seemed so rapid.
He feared only that it would adversely impact his sword fighting skills. But as he had always been an ardent student of his Uncle Krishna's dance tutoring, he had developed a splendid sense of balance and coordination. As a result, the only consequence was that his reach was enhanced. It was delightful.
And the best thing by far was that he was now taller than Skanda.
“We'll have to extend those stirrups again, Nesha."
“Thank you, Uncle,” Ganesh said, petting the horse as it nuzzled him. He still looked up to his Uncle Wotan. In more ways than just height. "And if you wouldn't mind terribly, I'd prefer not to be addressed by my childhood nicknames. Any of them."
"Ah, all grown up now, is it? You need to get up here more often! I miss having my boys around,” Wotan said, grabbing the reigns on Ganesh's horse. The eight-legged Sleipnir stood obediently off to the side.
"I will try. Things have been a bit … hectic."
"I'll organize a hunt. Have you all out here. Oh, and here is another stranger. Did you come home hoping to be fed?"
Baldr, who had just ridden up, howled with laughter. "I was hoping for some demon meat barbecue! Is Uncle Surtr over?"
"That's not a bad idea!" agreed Wotan. "I'll go send word to Surtr. You'll stay too, Ganesh?"
"I don't eat meat as much as I did formerly, but I would stay for the company," Ganesh told Wotan as he departed.
"Chubs? Is that you?" asked Baldr as he gracefully dismounted.
Ganesh shot him a glare. That happened to be the nickname he most wanted to dispense with.
Ganesh's expression softened slightly as the blond god approached him. Yes. He had grown just ever so slightly taller than even Baldr. “It's been a while,” Ganesh finally said, making sure he stood up to his fullest height.
“It's been too damned long!" Baldr declared, grinning and extending a hand. Ganesh gripped it, but then was slightly flustered as Baldr suddenly leaned in just a little too close.
Baldr drew back, still gripping his hand. "Are you ... smoking now?"
Ganesh arched an eyebrow. Dropping Baldr's hand, he withdrew a gold cigarette pack from his jacket pocket, extracted one slim cigarette, and lit up.
"Smoke? Of course not. How silly," he said, tossing the dead match.
Baldr laughed and crossed his arms. "But I thought you were the guy eating broccoli and doing yoga poses?"
"Every man needs a vice," Ganesh explained. He flicked some ashes. "What's yours?"
"Oh, you're now a smart ass! Dad is right, you should come up more often, so someone can take you down a peg."
"Are you volunteering?"
Baldr was standing too close again. "You said I need a vice," he told Ganesh.
Ganesh seemed to decide something. He took a long drag of his cigarette, and then, extending an elegant hand behind Baldr's neck, clamped his mouth over that of the very surprised god's. They kissed for a long moment.
Ganesh withdrew, stepping back slightly.
Baldr exhaled smoke.
"There," smiled Ganesh. "Now you have a vice."
Baldr grinned. “You're trouble, aren't you?” He grabbed the reigns of his horse and mounted. “You're staying around, yeah? I think I'm gonna need to take you down several pegs.”
“Wouldn't miss it,” Ganesh smiled.
The present day....
“You need to relax. I have never seen your chakras so dreadfully out of balance. If only you would suffer to do morning yoga practice with me more often.”
“Why did Ashleigh come back? Why now? You know that karma shit! What did I do?”
“Nothing in particular. Sariel! You need to relax your neck.” Ganesh had four arms out, and a lap full of rather cranky, wriggly, chakra-bending angel.
Ganesh was a patient being. But even his patience was wearing thin.
“L-E-I-G-H, not L-E-Y. What, am I gonna put her name on a goddam marquee?”
“Sariel!”
“I've told you I prefer Charles.”
“Charles! Sariel! Thomas! Whatever! You need to release tension!”
“Release tension?” asked Charles, suddenly in a softer voice.
“Yes, release- Oh, well, this isn't what I meant, but.... This is nice. Very.... Oh, the wings? Oh yes-”
Ganesh was asleep in a heap - a very contented heap - in the middle of their bed.
But Charles didn't find that his tension had been successfully released.
So he pulled on a pair of pajama pants and, after checking that Elias was contentedly snoring as well in his little bed, and then quietly shutting the door of their suite so as not to disturb the elephant graveyard, went stomping down the corridors of Mordhaus. It was not the easiest thing, to stomp in bare feet, but he gave it a rather grand try, wings partway unfurled, sometimes brushing the walls or bringing down one of two minor knick knacks as he stomped.
“Charles?”
“WHAT?” he snapped. He immediately regretted it. “I'm sorry Toki. What is it?”
“I am wonderings about dat girl, Ashleighs?”
“Oh, you wouldn't remember her, Toki. Or her mother. That was before you joined us.”
“You ams her dads?”
“Have you talked to Nathan?”
“No.”
“It's.... It's a long story. I was married to her mother. But, she's not mine. We established that long ago.”
“But she ams t'inks she ams yours?”
“I'm not sure what she thinks, Toki. I'm not sure what she wants.”
“Maybe she ams wants da relationships wit' her dads?”
“Like I said, Toki, I'm not her dad.”
“Maybe you ams talks to her anyways?”
“Well, we'll see.”
“You dad ams wants to talks to you I think.”
“What.... Oh, you mean the Creator?”
“Ja.”
Charles' wings whipped irritably, noisily knocking a helmet off a suit of armor.
“I ams wishes I hads more time wit' my dads....”
“OK, Toki, these scars?” Charles hooked a thumb at his own back. “They're from Him.”
“He ams beats you?”
“No. But, he looked the other way while other guys did.”
“Maybe he ams changed? He ams helps us in da dream.”
“Look, Toki, that sounds really nice. But-”
“OFDENSEN ARE YOU STILL UP STOMPING AROUND?”
“Nathan, I'm bare-footed. How much goddam noise could I make?”
“You're loud as a FUCKING FREIGHT TRAIN!” Nathan bellowed, actually ruffling Charles' wings with the volume of his voice.
“I couldn't sleep,” Charles grumbled.
“Hims ams worried about his daughter,” Toki confessed.
“Ah, yeah, that weird Ashleigh chick is weird."
“She's not my daughter!” Charles protested.
“Eh, well,” said Nathan. “Raziel ain't your mom, but she looked out for your sorry ass all those years.”
“That was different."
"And I ain't Boon's dad, but we play NINJA GHOST BOMB! Because, I'm a really good uncle."
"Uh-oh!” said Charles. Ganesh, wearing his elephant head, was coming down the corridor, a little and very red-faced boy clinging to his hand. “What's going on?”
“I am not precisely certain,” confessed Ganesh. “He woke in such a state. I tried everything. The trunk didn't seem to calm him, so I thought to try the wings.”
“Come here,” said Charles, squatting down. Elias hurled himself into his father's arms, sniffling mightily. “Shhhh. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not that bad.”
“What's wrong?” asked Nathan.
“Ah, this age, who could know?” said Ganesh. “It is possible he had a troubling dream," he said, point two hands. "But sometimes they simply go off," he concluded, spreading two more hands.
“Wowee! You ams gots back da elephants heads?” asked Toki, now staring in wonder.
“Oh, yes, I do apologize. I didn't mean to startle you. I was trying to calm Boon and forgot.”
“It ams cools,” said Toki.
Ganesh grinned, and poked Toki with his trunk. Toki squealed with delight.
“Can you ams eats wit' dat heads on?”
“I can actually manage a fork with the trunk, although sadly, I am a little out of practice.” Toki's eyes were huge. “Would you like me to show you?” Ganesh laughed. He, Toki and Nathan headed towards the kitchen.
“All right,” Charles told Elias, who had settled in his arms. “We'll go with the boys. And we'll eat one piece of pie with them. Then it's right back to bed with you. OK?”
Elias, who seemed to have quieted somewhat, nodded solemnly.
“What was it? Did you have a bad dream?”
“Ba dweem,” Elias said, very softly.
“Well, this is not very well known, but pie cures bad dreams. Blueberry is especially good for that."
"Boobeddy," agreed his child.
It was not very long after this that Charles found himself waking up in a very familiar garden.
“Oh, what now. Brahma? What the fuck?” But there was no sign of the large red god. He heard the distant sound of riders, so he waited. Very soon, a hunting party came in sight, Lord Shiva at the head.
Shiva dismounted and strode up to Charles.
“Shiva! Hey, thanks for the power up! We beat the boss! I mean.... Anyway, thanks. But if it's all the same to you guys, if I'm gonna keep doing these mystical vision things, could I at least have pants? I mean, this is not the state I usually go visiting in.”
Shiva said something in Hindi, and then another rider from the party approached. He looked familiar somehow, and yet not familiar.
“Honored Sariel,” said the tall blond rider, dismounting.
“I know you,” said Charles.
“My father.”
“Wotan?”
“Please protect him.”
“What? Me? He's married to Raziel! What the hell could I do?”
“Say you'll help him.”
“Of course, but....”
Charles was back in bed, sitting up.
“What is it dear?”
“If you're the gods damned Hindu in the family, why the fuck do I always end up in Brahma's fucking mystical fucking garden?”
“Well, technically, I'm not supposed to be up there. Not unless I'm dead. Or they're having a cocktail party. Were there cocktails?”
“No. There were no cocktails.”
“Pity.”
“And I didn't get a cool third eye this time. I got a message.”
“About...?”
“An inscrutable warning about Wotan.”
“Oh, dear!”
“But it wasn't so much the what. It was the who.”
“Who?”
“Baldr. I'm sure it was him.”
It was Ganesh's turn to sit up in bed. And then he was pulling on a robe, and hurrying out to the balcony. Puzzled, Charles followed him out.
Ganesh's hands were shaking as he lit a cigarette.
“Are you OK?” asked Charles. He obviously wasn't.
“I've been thinking about him lately. Like I haven't. For years. Dreaming about him. I don't know.”
Charles leaned against the railing for time. Finally he said. “You guys were boys together. Right?”
“Well, he was a bit older. But, yes.”
“And how old were you?”
“Oh,” said Ganesh, now smiling wistfully, “when first we met, I was tiny! Not much older than our little Boonie!” Then he frowned and looked at Charles. “Oh!”
“Yeah,” said Charles, looking off over the gardens again. “You don't talk about him much.”
“We said, didn't we, when we got together, we wouldn't discuss the past? When you get to be our age,” Ganesh laughed, “there's too damned much past.” He looked up.
Charles was staring at him. “Wait! You and Baldr?”
Ganesh frowned. He was silent for a long while. “I guess I've never told.... I've never actually told anyone. Ever.”
“You told me he was a bully. Along with the rest of them.”
“It's.... It's a long story. It didn't start out that way. He was very kind to me, when I was just small. But, then when we got to a certain age, Baldr grew … cold. He started to act just like the rest of them. I didn't understand.”
“Lemme guess. About the time you were a teenager?”
“Approximately.” Ganesh shook his head, his hair falling in his face. “It seems rather obvious in retrospect, I suppose. But I really was an innocent child. Once.”
“So, what happened?”
Ganesh shrugged and studied his cigarette. “After a certain age, I started to avoid Uncles hunting expeditions, and then ceased going to Valhalla. Completely. Until I was a young man. Then Baldr seemed changed.”
“Or you wanted to get into his pants enough to ignore the other stuff.”
Ganesh smiled wryly. “That may well be.”
“Did Wotan know?”
“Well, there wasn't a lot to know. As you know. He died.” Ganesh paused a moment. “But, I never told Uncle. You didn't know him then, but he was so devastated. We feared for him. I didn't want to add to his unhappiness.”
“You've kept this a secret … for centuries?”
“Well, no. I mean yes. Now that you mention it,” said Ganesh, hopping up on the balustrade.
Charles smiled. He walked over and, pushing Ganesh's legs apart, stood, leaning against him, his hands on Ganesh's thighs. “So. Let me get this straight. Baldr was your first love? And, he died? And, you never told anyone, even though it's been centuries? And then since that, you never had any relationship lasting longer than eight hours?”
Ganesh was looking teary-eyed and miserable. He nodded. He took a pull on the cigarette. Charles was suddenly kissing him.
Charles pulled back and exhaled smoke.
“You know I don't like you smoking, jaanu,” said Ganesh, one hand in Charles' hair. There was a faint smile on his face.
“C'mon. I need a vice. Wait. What did I say?”
“I'm usually good. With words. I can't tell you. What you mean to me,” Ganesh stuttered.
“All right,” said Charles, taking the cigarette and stabbing it out on the balustrade. “Show me.”
“They're going at it right on the balcony like that?”
Skwisgaar glanced up briefly from his Gibson. “Ja. Dey do dat sometimes. Usually, dey ams dances.”
“They WHAT?”
“Dey play music and dance. It ams nice. Peacefuls.”
Nathan stared a bit longer. It was a rare summer evening, and also a rare occasion when Skwisgaar did not have a bed full of female company. Nathan had found the guitarist out on his balcony. He had forgotten - if he'd ever known - that Skwisgaar's room even had a balcony. Something Charles had sneaked into the plans at the last minute in so the others wouldn't get jealous, Nathan thought suspiciously. Charles had seemed especially distracted while they were building Mordhaus, and now Nathan knew why.
He glanced at the doobie in his hand. He had gotten it from Pickles' stash, but now he briefly considered whether it might have any ingredients that would tend to make him leap off Skwisgaar's balcony under the mistaken impression that he could fly.
“Dat ex-wife, she ams pfffft,” said Skwisgaar. It had been the topic of conversation before Nathan had become distracted by angels and gods coupling in semi-public places. It had mostly been Nathan doing the talking, to occasional Pfffts from his friend, but there was so much weird shit, and it felt better, unloading it.
Nathan looked down again. Now Ganesh was slowly herding Charles inside. It was pretty amusing, like watching some guy try and throw a cat into a bathtub: a combination of pushing, pulling, carrying and literally dragging. Ganesh finally got the angel in the vicinity and basically tackled him through the door.
“Yeah, god knows what she woulda done if he'd let her stay,” Nathan agreed, now taking another drag from the doobie. “We'd probably all be out on the street IN OUR UNDERPANTS.”
“What you ams t'iinks of dat Ashleigh chick?”
“You banged her yet?” Nathan laughed.
“Ecccch!” said Skwisgaar.
“What? Really? She's female!”
“She ams wants to have da magicsal kids? I t'ink she ams not knows about me yet.”
“Oh, shit! Yeah, I forgot about that. Sorry, dude,” Nathan mused.
"I ams learned my lessons. I ams steers clears of dat kinds of females now!” Skwisgaar declared.
Nathan frowned through smoke at his band mate, and tried to recall. Had Skwisgaar been with any women at all since that terrible night of the bad dream?
“You know my dads ams wants to hunts?” Skwisgaar asked.
“Really? Up at Valhalla? That will be awesome!” It was good news: out riding horses in the fresh air. Like they had in the past. Maybe it would pull Pickles out of his girlie funk. Nathan frowned.
“What is da matter, my friend?”
“Oh, it's just too bad Shiva dude won't be with us. That guy was AWESOME!”
“Pfft,” said Skwisgaar.
“Oh, yeah, sorry dude. His wife. Forgot,” said Nathan. God damn, he thought. Skwisgaar was getting bad as a chick.
“Sire?”
Charles looked over to 31415, who was sitting behind the desk in the reception area.
“I apologize for the security breach last night.”
“Oh, you mean Ashleigh getting away? Yeah, well, it turned out OK.”
“I'll try to take steps to assure it doesn't happen again.”
“With our security? Good luck on that,” sighed Charles. He stared for a while at his receptionist. “Can I ask you a personal question, 31415? You don't have to answer.”
“What is it sire?”
“Are you a Dethklok fan?”
Charles obviously couldn't actually see the man blushing underneath the hood, but he definitely felt it. “Uh. Actually. My boyfriend, was, sire.”
“Oh!” That explained a lot. “Does he work here too then?”
“He did. He … passed away. A bizarre gardening accident.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be sorry! He was never so happy as when he got to work for the masters. Master Explosion once threw an empty beer can into his hedge, and he was talking about it for days!”
“But you stayed on?” prompted Charles.
“Well. The mortality rate in administration isn't so bad. And you've got excellent vision and dental benefits.”
“Hmmm. Well, all right....” said Charles, nodding and heading for his office door.
“Oh, the Lady Raziel awaits within!”
Charles froze. “Wait, she actually checked in with you?”
“She's wearing a particularly stylish outfit today. Something from the McQueen label I gather.”
Charles blinked. “Look, 31415, I've been considering this. I recently lost the Cherub I had in this job when he went off to graduate school. What would you think about stepping in here permanently?”
“Front office, sire? Really?” the Klokateer asked eagerly.
“It's a fucking pain in the ass. So I only take volunteers. But, think about it.” He entered his office.
“Sariel!” said Raziel brightly. He noticed she was even sitting in the guest chair for once.
“I hope you didn't wait too long.”
“Oh, no, Pie and I were having the most delightful conversation.”
“Pie? Oh, you mean.... Yeah. You were talking about some fashion shit?”
“Oh, no, personal protection. He was trying to talk me into a Glock, but I just think human firearms are a bit silly.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He's absolutely adorable. So much brighter than that boring Cherub. You are going to keep him around, aren't you?”
“Raziel, I've warned you before: don't get to attached to the Klokateers.”
“Hmpf! Well, I've offered before to have a friend of mine look at their little hoodie thingies.”
“NO! We are not gonna revisit uniforms. I took years - YEARS! - for me to get the guys in agreement.”
“Sweetie, visibility from those things is terribly impaired. I'm surprised they can even climb stairs!” she said, making stair-climbing gestures with two well-manicured fingers.
“I'm surprised you can climb stairs in those heels.”
“Hee. It's skill," she bragged, swinging up her legs to display truly preposterous McQueen footwear.
“So? Is this visit business, personal, or just to annoy the fuck outta me?”
“Oh, you're far too easy to annoy. I can always do that over the phone. Here's the business bit: a little bird told me that not-so-young Ashleigh, L-E-I-G-H, has been shopping around an interview on all the entertainment shows.”
“Why would they wanna interview her? She has nothing to say!”
“That's never made the barest bit of a difference. She's cute and blonde.”
“Thanks to a hairstylist and a plastic surgeon.”
“And there's this,” said Raziel, tossing something onto his desk.
It was a mock-up of a book. The cover prominently featured Ashleigh flashing her best Photoshopped smile.
“RAISED BY AN ANGEL? But, I barely interacted with her! And- And, the last time we met, SHE SEXUALLY HARRASSED ME!”
“All right, sweetie? You need to take a deep cleansing breath, or you're gonna melt down right through the floor.”
“Pleeeeeease, stop calling me 'Sweetie' Raziel!”
“I'm your publicist now! It's either sweetie or darling.”
“Just, Sariel. I'd even prefer fucking Little Brother.”
“My professional opinion? For which you pay me an entire American dollar each and every month?”
Charles' head was down on his desk. And underneath his desk, he had kicked off his shoes, twisting up his legs. “Yeah? Go,” he sighed.
“She wants to tell a story. It might work out better for you - for us - if we give her a story, than if she makes one up whole hog.”
“Or, we give her a new face, and leave her in the middle of the wilderness.” He looked up. “She's already a fan of plastic surgery!”
“Sariel!”
“Yeah, well. Can you come up with something?”
“I think so.”
“Raziel. Did you know...?” he trailed off.
“Yes?”
“Ganesh. And Baldr?"
Raziel arched an eyebrow. “Did he say something about that?”
“Last night. He admitted it.”
Raziel studied her manicure. “Hm. Some things Wotan has said to me over the years have made me suspect.”
"He didn't think Wotan knew.”
“My husband is many things, but stupid is not one of them. So you guys were up for a while after I left?”
“I couldn't sleep. Then Boon had a bad dream. Then … I had one of those things last night where I went to Brahma's garden.”
“Oh. What did Brahma want?”
“I didn't see Brahma.”
“You didn't see Brahma in Brahma's garden? That's weird.”
“I saw Shiva. And Baldr.”
“Oh?” Raziel was now at sunglasses-off full attention.
“You need to hear this. Baldr was concerned about Wotan.”
Raziel was leaning forward. “Why?”
“He wouldn't say. That's all I know.”
“Damn,” she said. She frowned. “You said Boon had a bad dream too?”
“He gets them sometimes.”
“Could it have been another vision?”
“What? No!”
“Why not? You're both descendants of Tzaphkiel! She had the vision.”
“Raziel, you know I don't go in for that woo woo stuff.”
“Sariel, you're an angel. You ARE woo woo stuff! No matter if you call yourself Charles or Thomas or Heathcliff or Melvin!"
"I have never called myself Melvin."
"Hopefully not."
“You'll warn Wotan?”
“I'll tell him. I hope I won't upset him.” Raziel had her sunglasses sitting up atop her head.
“It's still hard on him?”
“Yeah. I can't imagine. I don't wanna imagine.”
“And here I can't make a kid go the fuck away.”
“Oh, kids,” Raziel said, snapping her fingers. “I almost forgot. The hunt! You guys still coming?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Wotan REALLY wants Boon up there.”
“Sure. He's not gonna be able to do very much but point and say, 'horsie,' though.”
“You know Wotan taught Ganesh to hunt. He so wants to continue the tradition.”
“We'll all be there. I've got something important to attend to first though.”
"You ams knits?"
Skuld looked up and offered Toki a rare smile. "Sort of. I knit every day. And every night, my sisters cut the threads."
"Oh, dat ams frustratsing." The guitarist sat down next to the Norn witch out in the picnic area outside at Mordhaus.
"Well, it's the way it's been since the world began. I weave the Thread of Fate."
"I ams prefers 100% acrylic. It ams does well in da wash!"
Skuld held up the ball of yarn Toki had offered. "That's a really pretty color," she commented.
"I ams t'inks to makes da shawls," Toki explained, spreading out his Vogue patterns book over both their knees.
"Oh, the Sushi Shawl? Very pretty."
"You witches ams stays here with us at Mordhaus now?"
"Sariel thinks we should. The Goddess is probably pretty toasted with us now. Though my sisters are growing bored."
"Charles ams smarts. You should listens to him. Maybe we could ams makes a nice scarf while you are waiting?"
"Acrylic, huh? Yeah, maybe so!"
Ganesh sat out on a lovely back porch at his residence, craving a cigarette. But he had been smoking too damned much lately. It was something he didn't want to do around his son, and something he actively feared doing around Sariel. It still caused a pain in his heart to remember when pneumonia had left his angel gasping for breath. What would have happened, if Uncle Brahma had detained him even one day more, he was not sure. He slipped the cigarette case back into his coat pocket, and extracted instead the bit of his broken tusk. Reminders of his past, things he hadn't considered for centuries, had been bubbling up in his mind lately. Sariel said it was the fact of having a child himself now. That was a possibility surely....
There was a small apparition on the porch. Sariel?
No, it wasn't Sariel.
And now Ganesh really did crave a smoke.
“Pickles,” he said.
“Uh. Yeh. Dood. Mebbe I should...'
“Pickles,” said Charles, who had just appeared as well. “Thanks for coming.”
Ganesh glared. “Maybe I-”
“Ganesh. No,” said Charles.
“Pardon me?”
“Pickles is in my band. No. No bad blood. This is over.”
“It's not....” Ganesh began.
“Yeah, dood, I dunno....” Pickles began.
“Ganesh,” said Charles, now gripping Pickles' shoulder very tightly. “Pickles was a fucking rock star. One of the biggest artists of the era. When I went to him, and said I wanted to work with him, he coulda told me to fuck off. But he didn't.” Pickles looked at Charles. “He believed in me. Now, just lately, he's done some fucked up, dumb ass shit. And, if he does it again, I will personally fucking strangle him.” Pickles blinked. “But right now, we're gonna put that behind us, right? Because you are my spouse, Ganesh. And he is my business associate. And.... and my friend. And this is what I'm asking you.”
Ganesh stood, staring wrathfully at the floor for a while. Finally, his expression softened, and he looked up. “All right,” he said, half to himself. “All right. Yes. All right.” He extended a hand, thinking of how he meant to charge off right after this and maybe smoke and entire fucking pack of cigarettes. And maybe some of Papa Jacques fucking cigars to boot!
But then Pickles was clasping his hand.
And then Pickles was in his arms. Weeping like a child. The drummer pushed himself back. “I am so sahry,” he whispered. “I dunno how I could make it up to yoo....”
“Pickles!” Sariel snapped. They both looked at him. “You are not gonna make it up. Listen to me. You are never gonna do it again. That's how it's gonna work. Not my kid. Not my husband. NEVER. Or you will answer to ME.” And they both saw the silver flash behind the glasses.
Pickles nodded. He struggled for breath. He couldn't seem to stop crying. It was like trying to go onstage.
Ganesh cursed under his breath. And then he said, “Come here.” And Pickles felt himself being half led, half dragged down the hallway, and then off to a room he couldn't remember entering before.
Pickles actually stopped shaking out of pure surprise. The room looked a bit like a professional office. There was a desk, somewhere under a pile of books and paperwork and anatomical models and he didn't know what else. And the walls were lined with cluttered bookshelves. And there were diplomas on the wall. But, it all looked so terribly un-Ganesh, unlike anything else in this rather lovely, minimalist residence.
“Is dis yer office?” Pickles asked.
“Yes,” Ganesh agreed. He was pulling some books off a chair and dropping them to the floor. He indicated that Pickles should sit. “This is probably the fault of my Uncle Wotan,” Ganesh continued, picking his way behind the desk. “'An empty desk means a cluttered mind!' is what he'd say.”
Pickles gawped. The desk was anything but empty. The mess atop was an intriguing mix. There were some very recent medical periodicals (the one on top had a full page ad for Viagra on the back cover) and also a few books that looked as if they might crumble if you stared at them too hard.
“Da Jernal o' Psychoparmacology!” said Pickles, picking up a nearby periodical. “Dis is one o' my faverites, dood.”
“You're serious?” Ganesh's expression actually contained a slight smile.
“I'm serious about mah medications,” Pickles told him, leafing through it.
“Pickles,” said Ganesh, leaning forward so his elbows were on the desk, or at least on top of the mess atop the desk. “This is quite unorthodox. But these are unusual circumstances. And, I probably should have inquired about this before, thinking back. Sariel - Charles - has sent you to psychiatrists for your stage fright, has he not?”
“Yeh. Fer as much good as it's done,” sighed Pickles, tossing the journal back in the heap.
“But, you couldn't tell any of them about Seth. I mean, really tell them about Seth?”
“Dat he's some kinda outer space jellyfish monster god deal? Uh, dat would be a no, chief.”
“I worked for a time in a human psychiatric hospital,” Ganesh told him. “I don't have a formal certification. But I have a small practice, mostly with goddesses. Gods … can be assholes.”
Pickles frowned.
“What I'm asking, to be clear, would you like to talk to me? I mean, formally? As your doctor? I can't continue with you, as we've been. I could still be your friend, but it would be unethical...”
“To den feck my brains out?”
“Well. Yes.”
Pickles looked around at the jumble of medical ephemera. “I don't wanna rehash everyt'ing. I jest wanna get back to playing. T'ink yoo c'd do dat?”
“That would be the goal, then.”
Pickles searched Ganesh's eyes. For some reason, maybe it was the bookshelf posed in back of him, he really did look like some kind of doctor now. “You gonna tell me to give up da drugs an booze?”
“Er. What happened last time you did that?”
“I started back. In a week.”
“Um-hm. What I thought to use, as a treatment option, and, well, first, you should confirm to me whether or not you're under my treatment, so this conversation will be … confidential?”
Pickles stared. Confidential from who, he thought? He was too damned curious now to say no. So he said, “Yeh, dood, shure.”
“As you know, my colleague, Elegba and I have been making some study of magical enchanments....”
“No way!" Pickles was suddenly standing up straight. "Yer gonna be my witch doctor?”
“I am a vodouisant!” Ganesh declared.
“Dis is awesome! C'n I git an elephant head yoo t'ink?”
“I thought your goal was to resume playing concerts?”
“Oh, I know! Wut about some o' dose extra arms! Dose c'ld come in handy fer drummin'! Heh.”
Having sent Pickles home with a formal appointment on his book (once he located his book under a pack of coffee mugs bearing the logo of a pharmaceutical company and a 3D model of the basal ganglia) Ganesh emerged from his office to find another visitor at his residence.
“Jacque! It is good go see you!”
'I'm looking for my fucking grandkids!” blustered Jacque, as Elias played happily on his lap.
“Sadly, this is all as yet we have to offer.”
“This is it?”
“Yeah, that's it, Papa,” laughed Charles.
“How fucking long have you two been married now?” asked Jacque.
“Precisely how many would you require, Jacque?” asked Ganesh.
“How about ten? That's a good even fucking number.”
“Fine,” Ganesh told him. “Then we will simply seek out ten virtuous maidens....”
“WHAT? You have ANY FUCKING IDEA how long that's gonna take? To find even one virtuous goddam maiden....”
“Papa, you wanna fucking kid, why don't you just have another one?” asked Charles.
“Well. I'm getting kinda old. Set in my ways.”
"Papa,” said Charles, “one magical angel love god kid is about all we can handle."
"Hi. We're here to see the magical love god kid!" Raziel had just appeared, holding on to Abby's hand. Elias giggled, squirmed off his grandfather's lap, and ran to give his intended a big sticky kiss.
"Did we have a play date, Raziel?" asked Ganesh.
"Actually, no. We just left another toy here, somewhere. Though I'm kinda starting to think she leaves them on purpose," she said, tugging on Abby's topknot. The toddler looked up at her, blue eyes all innocence.
"More Pretty Pretty Princess crap?" asked Charles.
"No," said Raziel. "It's Enchanted Crystal Angel..."
Abby babbled off something in Japanese.
"Enchanted Crystal Princess Angel Virtue Fighter," Raziel told them. "It's the hottest thing in Japan!"
"I thought you told me Functional Bunny was the biggest thing in Japan," Ganesh told her.
"Silly Ganesh," scolded Raziel, holding up one well manicured finger. "That was TWO DAYS AGO! If you have a kid, you gotta keep up."
"Can you find Abby's toy, Boon?" Charles asked. Elias nodded furiously and then, slipping his chubby hand into Abby's, they ran off towards the nursery.
"Just get the toy and come back!" Charles shouted after them. "I'm too fucking young for grandkids!"
“You're coming on the hunt right, Jacque?” asked Raziel. “Wotan has been asking!”
“What kinda prey you after, my dear?”
"It's a Super big secret, BUT!" said Raziel, leaning over conspiratorially. “Wotan is tracking a herd of LAUGHING DEMONS!"
"Oh, fuck no!" declared Charles.
"They are supposed to be fair sport," protested Ganesh.
"I've heard they're pretty tasty in a barbecue sauce!" said Jacque, licking his lips.
"I hate those fucking things!" Charles grumbled.
"Well, doesn't if make you want to kill them horribly?" laughed Raziel.
"The screeching? And chuckling? And taunting?"
"Remember, they're not laughing at you. Well, actually, I think they are laughing at you. Oh, here we are!"
Elias and Abby had returned, a toy now clutched in Abby's little hand.
"What the hell is that?" asked Charles. "A rock?"
"It's Magical Virtuous Angel blah blah blah's power up weapon. It's actually pretty cool. Show 'em, Abby."
The little girl held the object out in one little hand, and, waving the other over it, declared, "Madikal Birtue Anjoo Powah!" The seemingly inert plastic toy suddenly lit up in throbbing pastel rainbow colors, started playing a cheery little pop tune, and, as the impressed adults watched, floated up to hover an inch above Abby's little hand.
"That's not bad," Charles admitted.
"I want one!" Ganesh cried.
"Dream*Mart," Raziel told them.
"Can you get me one? Pleeease?" pleaded Ganesh.
"All right, dear," said Raziel, patting his knee. "So I can expect you all first thing tomorrow?"
Charles grunted noncommittally.
"Are you going too, darlin'?" asked Jacque.
"Oh, hell no! This is a male bonding experience! Abby and I are gonna spend the day together, wargaming the Crimean War with Uncle William!"
"Da chaj a da lide biggade!" Abby chirped.
"That's right, pumpkin. The British military. Pffft! Are we ready to go?" she asked her daughter, extending a hand. Abby received another sticky smooch goodbye, and then, grabbing her mother's hand, blew a tiny kiss back at Elias just before they disappeared.
"Ah, that one's a saucy wench, eh?" Jacque asked Elias.
"Sawsee wenge?" the boy asked, climbing back atop his grandfather's lap.
"Don't let her catch you saying that. She'll whack you with her angel crystal rock," Charles warned him.
"Can I kidnap your cabin boy?" asked Jacque, standing up holding his grandson. "We need to learn more dirty limericks!"
"Gir fwum nanducked!" Elias squeed.
"You're a quick learner!" Jacque chuckled.
"Certainly, Jacque. You'll bring him up to Valhalla tomorrow?" asked Ganesh.
"You wanna go huntin' with your Papa?"
"Yeah, an da wide da hosies!" Elias agreed.
"You two! Work on those grandkids!" ordered Jacque as he disappeared.
"It is the first thing upon my mind," Ganesh sighed as he sank into the couch. He swung his feet into Charles' lap. "Would you be a good saucy wench and rub my feet?"
"I thought you were the saucy wench," laughed Charles, slipping off Ganesh's shoes.
"You are coming along tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Someone needs to make sure my boys don't get eaten by demons, I guess. "And I have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to do about protecting Wotan."
"And your, er, daughter?"
"Raziel is gonna figure something out. And Pie - uh, I mean, 31415 - said he'd personally watch out that she doesn't burn the place down." Charles looked around. "Did Pickles go home?"
"Mmmm," said Ganesh.
"What does that mean?"
"I have decided to personally attend to his case. It is probably something I should have considered earlier."
"You're WHAT?"
"His case involves abuse rendered by a magical being! There is really no one more qualified than I to find a solution."
"Ganesh! Are you gonna voodoo my gods damned drummer!"
"Only a little!"
"Just.... Don't turn him into a fucking zombie! Although, come to think of it, the other boys would probably think at was awesome...."
"Jaanu?” asked Ganesh.
“Yeah?”
“What has happened to your shoes?
Charles regarded his stockinged feet and sighed.
Many years ago....
“I ate too much demon barbecue!"
“It seems your fault. You were the one wagering with Tyr.”
“Little bastard. He's got a hollow fucking leg, I swear.”
Ganesh laughed. “And he is not so little any more, so I've seen.”
“No, out of all of 'em, I'm the runt,” Baldr sighed.
“You are taller still than Skanda,” Ganesh assured him.
“Where the fuck is that guy, anyway?”
“I don't know. And I really don't care,” Ganesh told him, stopping just outside the stables to light a cigarette.
“You never reconciled with him?”
“Why should I?”
“The sons of Odin: we all get along now! Even Thor. Though he can be an ass.”
“That is Skanda's natural state.”
“Still, as brothers....”
“I'm not completely convinced that is true,” said Ganesh, blowing smoke. “Now, you wanted to show me your new mount?”
“I wanted to show you something,” Baldr said, pulling him close. All at once, he was trying to kiss and grope and remove clothing and everything at the same time.
“Shhh,” said Ganesh, pushing Baldr back ever so slightly, a finger to Baldr's lips. “Don't be in such a hurry.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because we have plenty of time, dear. Plenty of time.” Baldr looked down in surprise. Ganesh was embracing him with two arms, but then had two more arms out, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Oh, fuck yeah!” said Baldr, who was soon back to occupying his mouth elsewhere.
But they were not the only two beings about the Valhallan stables at that moment.
“Are you troubled, Lord Skanda?”
Skanda looked up to the spider spinning a web in the corner.
“Loki. Quit being an ass.”
“I'm not currently being an ass, as you may have surmised,” said the spider, leaping onto the broad-shouldered god's back.
“I'm not like the rest of these idiots. I can see through your silly disguises.”
“No. You're not like the rest of us, are you?” This quieted Skanda for the moment. “Lord Ganesh is being a bit wanton?”
“Wanton? You fucked a horse.”
“Well,” said Loki, casting out a bit of thread and swinging back to the dusty corner of the stables. “If you ever want to do anything more than glower about it, perhaps you should talk to me.”
“What do you mean?” asked Skanda.
“Ganesh,” Loki tutted, flicking his legs. “Such an unworthy heir. So easily distracted.”
“But he is the second son. I am the first.”
“But, if he is bonded with Baldr? Odin is terribly powerful. Terribly powerful. It would be a noble alliance. Shiva cannot ignore this. As he cannot ignore … many other things.”
Skanda stole a glance at the Loki spider. The man unnerved him even in his human guise. Those eyes! There was something not right. On the other hand, all knew Baldr was the favorite of Odin's brats, and his lust for Ganesh had now clearly gotten out of control. And Ganesh.... Well, he saw things. Things he shouldn't.
Did Loki see this too? What did he know?
"What would you have me do, Loki?" asked Skanda.
Loki smiled a spidery smile. He dropped back upon Skanda's shoulder. Then he crawled close, so he could whisper directly into Skanda's ear.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Outings, past and future
Warnings: Nothing much for this chapter. Sahry.
Notes: Notes after the jump.
Mythklok started life as a Metalocalypse AU. Then I added in a bunch of not-so-original OCs, begged, borrowed and outright stolen from half-remembered bits of various myths and legends. It's now sorta morphed into a mutant monster.
Last time: It's Charles' long lost daughter! Only, not really. Also, more Adventures of L'il Ganesh and the Odinssons.
Many years ago....
It had all happened overnight.
Or so it seemed.
Ganesh had been the littlest in his family.
And then, like magic, he was the tallest.
It had actually occurred over a period of months. But it had seemed so rapid.
He feared only that it would adversely impact his sword fighting skills. But as he had always been an ardent student of his Uncle Krishna's dance tutoring, he had developed a splendid sense of balance and coordination. As a result, the only consequence was that his reach was enhanced. It was delightful.
And the best thing by far was that he was now taller than Skanda.
“We'll have to extend those stirrups again, Nesha."
“Thank you, Uncle,” Ganesh said, petting the horse as it nuzzled him. He still looked up to his Uncle Wotan. In more ways than just height. "And if you wouldn't mind terribly, I'd prefer not to be addressed by my childhood nicknames. Any of them."
"Ah, all grown up now, is it? You need to get up here more often! I miss having my boys around,” Wotan said, grabbing the reigns on Ganesh's horse. The eight-legged Sleipnir stood obediently off to the side.
"I will try. Things have been a bit … hectic."
"I'll organize a hunt. Have you all out here. Oh, and here is another stranger. Did you come home hoping to be fed?"
Baldr, who had just ridden up, howled with laughter. "I was hoping for some demon meat barbecue! Is Uncle Surtr over?"
"That's not a bad idea!" agreed Wotan. "I'll go send word to Surtr. You'll stay too, Ganesh?"
"I don't eat meat as much as I did formerly, but I would stay for the company," Ganesh told Wotan as he departed.
"Chubs? Is that you?" asked Baldr as he gracefully dismounted.
Ganesh shot him a glare. That happened to be the nickname he most wanted to dispense with.
Ganesh's expression softened slightly as the blond god approached him. Yes. He had grown just ever so slightly taller than even Baldr. “It's been a while,” Ganesh finally said, making sure he stood up to his fullest height.
“It's been too damned long!" Baldr declared, grinning and extending a hand. Ganesh gripped it, but then was slightly flustered as Baldr suddenly leaned in just a little too close.
Baldr drew back, still gripping his hand. "Are you ... smoking now?"
Ganesh arched an eyebrow. Dropping Baldr's hand, he withdrew a gold cigarette pack from his jacket pocket, extracted one slim cigarette, and lit up.
"Smoke? Of course not. How silly," he said, tossing the dead match.
Baldr laughed and crossed his arms. "But I thought you were the guy eating broccoli and doing yoga poses?"
"Every man needs a vice," Ganesh explained. He flicked some ashes. "What's yours?"
"Oh, you're now a smart ass! Dad is right, you should come up more often, so someone can take you down a peg."
"Are you volunteering?"
Baldr was standing too close again. "You said I need a vice," he told Ganesh.
Ganesh seemed to decide something. He took a long drag of his cigarette, and then, extending an elegant hand behind Baldr's neck, clamped his mouth over that of the very surprised god's. They kissed for a long moment.
Ganesh withdrew, stepping back slightly.
Baldr exhaled smoke.
"There," smiled Ganesh. "Now you have a vice."
Baldr grinned. “You're trouble, aren't you?” He grabbed the reigns of his horse and mounted. “You're staying around, yeah? I think I'm gonna need to take you down several pegs.”
“Wouldn't miss it,” Ganesh smiled.
The present day....
“You need to relax. I have never seen your chakras so dreadfully out of balance. If only you would suffer to do morning yoga practice with me more often.”
“Why did Ashleigh come back? Why now? You know that karma shit! What did I do?”
“Nothing in particular. Sariel! You need to relax your neck.” Ganesh had four arms out, and a lap full of rather cranky, wriggly, chakra-bending angel.
Ganesh was a patient being. But even his patience was wearing thin.
“L-E-I-G-H, not L-E-Y. What, am I gonna put her name on a goddam marquee?”
“Sariel!”
“I've told you I prefer Charles.”
“Charles! Sariel! Thomas! Whatever! You need to release tension!”
“Release tension?” asked Charles, suddenly in a softer voice.
“Yes, release- Oh, well, this isn't what I meant, but.... This is nice. Very.... Oh, the wings? Oh yes-”
Ganesh was asleep in a heap - a very contented heap - in the middle of their bed.
But Charles didn't find that his tension had been successfully released.
So he pulled on a pair of pajama pants and, after checking that Elias was contentedly snoring as well in his little bed, and then quietly shutting the door of their suite so as not to disturb the elephant graveyard, went stomping down the corridors of Mordhaus. It was not the easiest thing, to stomp in bare feet, but he gave it a rather grand try, wings partway unfurled, sometimes brushing the walls or bringing down one of two minor knick knacks as he stomped.
“Charles?”
“WHAT?” he snapped. He immediately regretted it. “I'm sorry Toki. What is it?”
“I am wonderings about dat girl, Ashleighs?”
“Oh, you wouldn't remember her, Toki. Or her mother. That was before you joined us.”
“You ams her dads?”
“Have you talked to Nathan?”
“No.”
“It's.... It's a long story. I was married to her mother. But, she's not mine. We established that long ago.”
“But she ams t'inks she ams yours?”
“I'm not sure what she thinks, Toki. I'm not sure what she wants.”
“Maybe she ams wants da relationships wit' her dads?”
“Like I said, Toki, I'm not her dad.”
“Maybe you ams talks to her anyways?”
“Well, we'll see.”
“You dad ams wants to talks to you I think.”
“What.... Oh, you mean the Creator?”
“Ja.”
Charles' wings whipped irritably, noisily knocking a helmet off a suit of armor.
“I ams wishes I hads more time wit' my dads....”
“OK, Toki, these scars?” Charles hooked a thumb at his own back. “They're from Him.”
“He ams beats you?”
“No. But, he looked the other way while other guys did.”
“Maybe he ams changed? He ams helps us in da dream.”
“Look, Toki, that sounds really nice. But-”
“OFDENSEN ARE YOU STILL UP STOMPING AROUND?”
“Nathan, I'm bare-footed. How much goddam noise could I make?”
“You're loud as a FUCKING FREIGHT TRAIN!” Nathan bellowed, actually ruffling Charles' wings with the volume of his voice.
“I couldn't sleep,” Charles grumbled.
“Hims ams worried about his daughter,” Toki confessed.
“Ah, yeah, that weird Ashleigh chick is weird."
“She's not my daughter!” Charles protested.
“Eh, well,” said Nathan. “Raziel ain't your mom, but she looked out for your sorry ass all those years.”
“That was different."
"And I ain't Boon's dad, but we play NINJA GHOST BOMB! Because, I'm a really good uncle."
"Uh-oh!” said Charles. Ganesh, wearing his elephant head, was coming down the corridor, a little and very red-faced boy clinging to his hand. “What's going on?”
“I am not precisely certain,” confessed Ganesh. “He woke in such a state. I tried everything. The trunk didn't seem to calm him, so I thought to try the wings.”
“Come here,” said Charles, squatting down. Elias hurled himself into his father's arms, sniffling mightily. “Shhhh. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not that bad.”
“What's wrong?” asked Nathan.
“Ah, this age, who could know?” said Ganesh. “It is possible he had a troubling dream," he said, point two hands. "But sometimes they simply go off," he concluded, spreading two more hands.
“Wowee! You ams gots back da elephants heads?” asked Toki, now staring in wonder.
“Oh, yes, I do apologize. I didn't mean to startle you. I was trying to calm Boon and forgot.”
“It ams cools,” said Toki.
Ganesh grinned, and poked Toki with his trunk. Toki squealed with delight.
“Can you ams eats wit' dat heads on?”
“I can actually manage a fork with the trunk, although sadly, I am a little out of practice.” Toki's eyes were huge. “Would you like me to show you?” Ganesh laughed. He, Toki and Nathan headed towards the kitchen.
“All right,” Charles told Elias, who had settled in his arms. “We'll go with the boys. And we'll eat one piece of pie with them. Then it's right back to bed with you. OK?”
Elias, who seemed to have quieted somewhat, nodded solemnly.
“What was it? Did you have a bad dream?”
“Ba dweem,” Elias said, very softly.
“Well, this is not very well known, but pie cures bad dreams. Blueberry is especially good for that."
"Boobeddy," agreed his child.
It was not very long after this that Charles found himself waking up in a very familiar garden.
“Oh, what now. Brahma? What the fuck?” But there was no sign of the large red god. He heard the distant sound of riders, so he waited. Very soon, a hunting party came in sight, Lord Shiva at the head.
Shiva dismounted and strode up to Charles.
“Shiva! Hey, thanks for the power up! We beat the boss! I mean.... Anyway, thanks. But if it's all the same to you guys, if I'm gonna keep doing these mystical vision things, could I at least have pants? I mean, this is not the state I usually go visiting in.”
Shiva said something in Hindi, and then another rider from the party approached. He looked familiar somehow, and yet not familiar.
“Honored Sariel,” said the tall blond rider, dismounting.
“I know you,” said Charles.
“My father.”
“Wotan?”
“Please protect him.”
“What? Me? He's married to Raziel! What the hell could I do?”
“Say you'll help him.”
“Of course, but....”
Charles was back in bed, sitting up.
“What is it dear?”
“If you're the gods damned Hindu in the family, why the fuck do I always end up in Brahma's fucking mystical fucking garden?”
“Well, technically, I'm not supposed to be up there. Not unless I'm dead. Or they're having a cocktail party. Were there cocktails?”
“No. There were no cocktails.”
“Pity.”
“And I didn't get a cool third eye this time. I got a message.”
“About...?”
“An inscrutable warning about Wotan.”
“Oh, dear!”
“But it wasn't so much the what. It was the who.”
“Who?”
“Baldr. I'm sure it was him.”
It was Ganesh's turn to sit up in bed. And then he was pulling on a robe, and hurrying out to the balcony. Puzzled, Charles followed him out.
Ganesh's hands were shaking as he lit a cigarette.
“Are you OK?” asked Charles. He obviously wasn't.
“I've been thinking about him lately. Like I haven't. For years. Dreaming about him. I don't know.”
Charles leaned against the railing for time. Finally he said. “You guys were boys together. Right?”
“Well, he was a bit older. But, yes.”
“And how old were you?”
“Oh,” said Ganesh, now smiling wistfully, “when first we met, I was tiny! Not much older than our little Boonie!” Then he frowned and looked at Charles. “Oh!”
“Yeah,” said Charles, looking off over the gardens again. “You don't talk about him much.”
“We said, didn't we, when we got together, we wouldn't discuss the past? When you get to be our age,” Ganesh laughed, “there's too damned much past.” He looked up.
Charles was staring at him. “Wait! You and Baldr?”
Ganesh frowned. He was silent for a long while. “I guess I've never told.... I've never actually told anyone. Ever.”
“You told me he was a bully. Along with the rest of them.”
“It's.... It's a long story. It didn't start out that way. He was very kind to me, when I was just small. But, then when we got to a certain age, Baldr grew … cold. He started to act just like the rest of them. I didn't understand.”
“Lemme guess. About the time you were a teenager?”
“Approximately.” Ganesh shook his head, his hair falling in his face. “It seems rather obvious in retrospect, I suppose. But I really was an innocent child. Once.”
“So, what happened?”
Ganesh shrugged and studied his cigarette. “After a certain age, I started to avoid Uncles hunting expeditions, and then ceased going to Valhalla. Completely. Until I was a young man. Then Baldr seemed changed.”
“Or you wanted to get into his pants enough to ignore the other stuff.”
Ganesh smiled wryly. “That may well be.”
“Did Wotan know?”
“Well, there wasn't a lot to know. As you know. He died.” Ganesh paused a moment. “But, I never told Uncle. You didn't know him then, but he was so devastated. We feared for him. I didn't want to add to his unhappiness.”
“You've kept this a secret … for centuries?”
“Well, no. I mean yes. Now that you mention it,” said Ganesh, hopping up on the balustrade.
Charles smiled. He walked over and, pushing Ganesh's legs apart, stood, leaning against him, his hands on Ganesh's thighs. “So. Let me get this straight. Baldr was your first love? And, he died? And, you never told anyone, even though it's been centuries? And then since that, you never had any relationship lasting longer than eight hours?”
Ganesh was looking teary-eyed and miserable. He nodded. He took a pull on the cigarette. Charles was suddenly kissing him.
Charles pulled back and exhaled smoke.
“You know I don't like you smoking, jaanu,” said Ganesh, one hand in Charles' hair. There was a faint smile on his face.
“C'mon. I need a vice. Wait. What did I say?”
“I'm usually good. With words. I can't tell you. What you mean to me,” Ganesh stuttered.
“All right,” said Charles, taking the cigarette and stabbing it out on the balustrade. “Show me.”
“They're going at it right on the balcony like that?”
Skwisgaar glanced up briefly from his Gibson. “Ja. Dey do dat sometimes. Usually, dey ams dances.”
“They WHAT?”
“Dey play music and dance. It ams nice. Peacefuls.”
Nathan stared a bit longer. It was a rare summer evening, and also a rare occasion when Skwisgaar did not have a bed full of female company. Nathan had found the guitarist out on his balcony. He had forgotten - if he'd ever known - that Skwisgaar's room even had a balcony. Something Charles had sneaked into the plans at the last minute in so the others wouldn't get jealous, Nathan thought suspiciously. Charles had seemed especially distracted while they were building Mordhaus, and now Nathan knew why.
He glanced at the doobie in his hand. He had gotten it from Pickles' stash, but now he briefly considered whether it might have any ingredients that would tend to make him leap off Skwisgaar's balcony under the mistaken impression that he could fly.
“Dat ex-wife, she ams pfffft,” said Skwisgaar. It had been the topic of conversation before Nathan had become distracted by angels and gods coupling in semi-public places. It had mostly been Nathan doing the talking, to occasional Pfffts from his friend, but there was so much weird shit, and it felt better, unloading it.
Nathan looked down again. Now Ganesh was slowly herding Charles inside. It was pretty amusing, like watching some guy try and throw a cat into a bathtub: a combination of pushing, pulling, carrying and literally dragging. Ganesh finally got the angel in the vicinity and basically tackled him through the door.
“Yeah, god knows what she woulda done if he'd let her stay,” Nathan agreed, now taking another drag from the doobie. “We'd probably all be out on the street IN OUR UNDERPANTS.”
“What you ams t'iinks of dat Ashleigh chick?”
“You banged her yet?” Nathan laughed.
“Ecccch!” said Skwisgaar.
“What? Really? She's female!”
“She ams wants to have da magicsal kids? I t'ink she ams not knows about me yet.”
“Oh, shit! Yeah, I forgot about that. Sorry, dude,” Nathan mused.
"I ams learned my lessons. I ams steers clears of dat kinds of females now!” Skwisgaar declared.
Nathan frowned through smoke at his band mate, and tried to recall. Had Skwisgaar been with any women at all since that terrible night of the bad dream?
“You know my dads ams wants to hunts?” Skwisgaar asked.
“Really? Up at Valhalla? That will be awesome!” It was good news: out riding horses in the fresh air. Like they had in the past. Maybe it would pull Pickles out of his girlie funk. Nathan frowned.
“What is da matter, my friend?”
“Oh, it's just too bad Shiva dude won't be with us. That guy was AWESOME!”
“Pfft,” said Skwisgaar.
“Oh, yeah, sorry dude. His wife. Forgot,” said Nathan. God damn, he thought. Skwisgaar was getting bad as a chick.
“Sire?”
Charles looked over to 31415, who was sitting behind the desk in the reception area.
“I apologize for the security breach last night.”
“Oh, you mean Ashleigh getting away? Yeah, well, it turned out OK.”
“I'll try to take steps to assure it doesn't happen again.”
“With our security? Good luck on that,” sighed Charles. He stared for a while at his receptionist. “Can I ask you a personal question, 31415? You don't have to answer.”
“What is it sire?”
“Are you a Dethklok fan?”
Charles obviously couldn't actually see the man blushing underneath the hood, but he definitely felt it. “Uh. Actually. My boyfriend, was, sire.”
“Oh!” That explained a lot. “Does he work here too then?”
“He did. He … passed away. A bizarre gardening accident.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be sorry! He was never so happy as when he got to work for the masters. Master Explosion once threw an empty beer can into his hedge, and he was talking about it for days!”
“But you stayed on?” prompted Charles.
“Well. The mortality rate in administration isn't so bad. And you've got excellent vision and dental benefits.”
“Hmmm. Well, all right....” said Charles, nodding and heading for his office door.
“Oh, the Lady Raziel awaits within!”
Charles froze. “Wait, she actually checked in with you?”
“She's wearing a particularly stylish outfit today. Something from the McQueen label I gather.”
Charles blinked. “Look, 31415, I've been considering this. I recently lost the Cherub I had in this job when he went off to graduate school. What would you think about stepping in here permanently?”
“Front office, sire? Really?” the Klokateer asked eagerly.
“It's a fucking pain in the ass. So I only take volunteers. But, think about it.” He entered his office.
“Sariel!” said Raziel brightly. He noticed she was even sitting in the guest chair for once.
“I hope you didn't wait too long.”
“Oh, no, Pie and I were having the most delightful conversation.”
“Pie? Oh, you mean.... Yeah. You were talking about some fashion shit?”
“Oh, no, personal protection. He was trying to talk me into a Glock, but I just think human firearms are a bit silly.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He's absolutely adorable. So much brighter than that boring Cherub. You are going to keep him around, aren't you?”
“Raziel, I've warned you before: don't get to attached to the Klokateers.”
“Hmpf! Well, I've offered before to have a friend of mine look at their little hoodie thingies.”
“NO! We are not gonna revisit uniforms. I took years - YEARS! - for me to get the guys in agreement.”
“Sweetie, visibility from those things is terribly impaired. I'm surprised they can even climb stairs!” she said, making stair-climbing gestures with two well-manicured fingers.
“I'm surprised you can climb stairs in those heels.”
“Hee. It's skill," she bragged, swinging up her legs to display truly preposterous McQueen footwear.
“So? Is this visit business, personal, or just to annoy the fuck outta me?”
“Oh, you're far too easy to annoy. I can always do that over the phone. Here's the business bit: a little bird told me that not-so-young Ashleigh, L-E-I-G-H, has been shopping around an interview on all the entertainment shows.”
“Why would they wanna interview her? She has nothing to say!”
“That's never made the barest bit of a difference. She's cute and blonde.”
“Thanks to a hairstylist and a plastic surgeon.”
“And there's this,” said Raziel, tossing something onto his desk.
It was a mock-up of a book. The cover prominently featured Ashleigh flashing her best Photoshopped smile.
“RAISED BY AN ANGEL? But, I barely interacted with her! And- And, the last time we met, SHE SEXUALLY HARRASSED ME!”
“All right, sweetie? You need to take a deep cleansing breath, or you're gonna melt down right through the floor.”
“Pleeeeeease, stop calling me 'Sweetie' Raziel!”
“I'm your publicist now! It's either sweetie or darling.”
“Just, Sariel. I'd even prefer fucking Little Brother.”
“My professional opinion? For which you pay me an entire American dollar each and every month?”
Charles' head was down on his desk. And underneath his desk, he had kicked off his shoes, twisting up his legs. “Yeah? Go,” he sighed.
“She wants to tell a story. It might work out better for you - for us - if we give her a story, than if she makes one up whole hog.”
“Or, we give her a new face, and leave her in the middle of the wilderness.” He looked up. “She's already a fan of plastic surgery!”
“Sariel!”
“Yeah, well. Can you come up with something?”
“I think so.”
“Raziel. Did you know...?” he trailed off.
“Yes?”
“Ganesh. And Baldr?"
Raziel arched an eyebrow. “Did he say something about that?”
“Last night. He admitted it.”
Raziel studied her manicure. “Hm. Some things Wotan has said to me over the years have made me suspect.”
"He didn't think Wotan knew.”
“My husband is many things, but stupid is not one of them. So you guys were up for a while after I left?”
“I couldn't sleep. Then Boon had a bad dream. Then … I had one of those things last night where I went to Brahma's garden.”
“Oh. What did Brahma want?”
“I didn't see Brahma.”
“You didn't see Brahma in Brahma's garden? That's weird.”
“I saw Shiva. And Baldr.”
“Oh?” Raziel was now at sunglasses-off full attention.
“You need to hear this. Baldr was concerned about Wotan.”
Raziel was leaning forward. “Why?”
“He wouldn't say. That's all I know.”
“Damn,” she said. She frowned. “You said Boon had a bad dream too?”
“He gets them sometimes.”
“Could it have been another vision?”
“What? No!”
“Why not? You're both descendants of Tzaphkiel! She had the vision.”
“Raziel, you know I don't go in for that woo woo stuff.”
“Sariel, you're an angel. You ARE woo woo stuff! No matter if you call yourself Charles or Thomas or Heathcliff or Melvin!"
"I have never called myself Melvin."
"Hopefully not."
“You'll warn Wotan?”
“I'll tell him. I hope I won't upset him.” Raziel had her sunglasses sitting up atop her head.
“It's still hard on him?”
“Yeah. I can't imagine. I don't wanna imagine.”
“And here I can't make a kid go the fuck away.”
“Oh, kids,” Raziel said, snapping her fingers. “I almost forgot. The hunt! You guys still coming?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Wotan REALLY wants Boon up there.”
“Sure. He's not gonna be able to do very much but point and say, 'horsie,' though.”
“You know Wotan taught Ganesh to hunt. He so wants to continue the tradition.”
“We'll all be there. I've got something important to attend to first though.”
"You ams knits?"
Skuld looked up and offered Toki a rare smile. "Sort of. I knit every day. And every night, my sisters cut the threads."
"Oh, dat ams frustratsing." The guitarist sat down next to the Norn witch out in the picnic area outside at Mordhaus.
"Well, it's the way it's been since the world began. I weave the Thread of Fate."
"I ams prefers 100% acrylic. It ams does well in da wash!"
Skuld held up the ball of yarn Toki had offered. "That's a really pretty color," she commented.
"I ams t'inks to makes da shawls," Toki explained, spreading out his Vogue patterns book over both their knees.
"Oh, the Sushi Shawl? Very pretty."
"You witches ams stays here with us at Mordhaus now?"
"Sariel thinks we should. The Goddess is probably pretty toasted with us now. Though my sisters are growing bored."
"Charles ams smarts. You should listens to him. Maybe we could ams makes a nice scarf while you are waiting?"
"Acrylic, huh? Yeah, maybe so!"
Ganesh sat out on a lovely back porch at his residence, craving a cigarette. But he had been smoking too damned much lately. It was something he didn't want to do around his son, and something he actively feared doing around Sariel. It still caused a pain in his heart to remember when pneumonia had left his angel gasping for breath. What would have happened, if Uncle Brahma had detained him even one day more, he was not sure. He slipped the cigarette case back into his coat pocket, and extracted instead the bit of his broken tusk. Reminders of his past, things he hadn't considered for centuries, had been bubbling up in his mind lately. Sariel said it was the fact of having a child himself now. That was a possibility surely....
There was a small apparition on the porch. Sariel?
No, it wasn't Sariel.
And now Ganesh really did crave a smoke.
“Pickles,” he said.
“Uh. Yeh. Dood. Mebbe I should...'
“Pickles,” said Charles, who had just appeared as well. “Thanks for coming.”
Ganesh glared. “Maybe I-”
“Ganesh. No,” said Charles.
“Pardon me?”
“Pickles is in my band. No. No bad blood. This is over.”
“It's not....” Ganesh began.
“Yeah, dood, I dunno....” Pickles began.
“Ganesh,” said Charles, now gripping Pickles' shoulder very tightly. “Pickles was a fucking rock star. One of the biggest artists of the era. When I went to him, and said I wanted to work with him, he coulda told me to fuck off. But he didn't.” Pickles looked at Charles. “He believed in me. Now, just lately, he's done some fucked up, dumb ass shit. And, if he does it again, I will personally fucking strangle him.” Pickles blinked. “But right now, we're gonna put that behind us, right? Because you are my spouse, Ganesh. And he is my business associate. And.... and my friend. And this is what I'm asking you.”
Ganesh stood, staring wrathfully at the floor for a while. Finally, his expression softened, and he looked up. “All right,” he said, half to himself. “All right. Yes. All right.” He extended a hand, thinking of how he meant to charge off right after this and maybe smoke and entire fucking pack of cigarettes. And maybe some of Papa Jacques fucking cigars to boot!
But then Pickles was clasping his hand.
And then Pickles was in his arms. Weeping like a child. The drummer pushed himself back. “I am so sahry,” he whispered. “I dunno how I could make it up to yoo....”
“Pickles!” Sariel snapped. They both looked at him. “You are not gonna make it up. Listen to me. You are never gonna do it again. That's how it's gonna work. Not my kid. Not my husband. NEVER. Or you will answer to ME.” And they both saw the silver flash behind the glasses.
Pickles nodded. He struggled for breath. He couldn't seem to stop crying. It was like trying to go onstage.
Ganesh cursed under his breath. And then he said, “Come here.” And Pickles felt himself being half led, half dragged down the hallway, and then off to a room he couldn't remember entering before.
Pickles actually stopped shaking out of pure surprise. The room looked a bit like a professional office. There was a desk, somewhere under a pile of books and paperwork and anatomical models and he didn't know what else. And the walls were lined with cluttered bookshelves. And there were diplomas on the wall. But, it all looked so terribly un-Ganesh, unlike anything else in this rather lovely, minimalist residence.
“Is dis yer office?” Pickles asked.
“Yes,” Ganesh agreed. He was pulling some books off a chair and dropping them to the floor. He indicated that Pickles should sit. “This is probably the fault of my Uncle Wotan,” Ganesh continued, picking his way behind the desk. “'An empty desk means a cluttered mind!' is what he'd say.”
Pickles gawped. The desk was anything but empty. The mess atop was an intriguing mix. There were some very recent medical periodicals (the one on top had a full page ad for Viagra on the back cover) and also a few books that looked as if they might crumble if you stared at them too hard.
“Da Jernal o' Psychoparmacology!” said Pickles, picking up a nearby periodical. “Dis is one o' my faverites, dood.”
“You're serious?” Ganesh's expression actually contained a slight smile.
“I'm serious about mah medications,” Pickles told him, leafing through it.
“Pickles,” said Ganesh, leaning forward so his elbows were on the desk, or at least on top of the mess atop the desk. “This is quite unorthodox. But these are unusual circumstances. And, I probably should have inquired about this before, thinking back. Sariel - Charles - has sent you to psychiatrists for your stage fright, has he not?”
“Yeh. Fer as much good as it's done,” sighed Pickles, tossing the journal back in the heap.
“But, you couldn't tell any of them about Seth. I mean, really tell them about Seth?”
“Dat he's some kinda outer space jellyfish monster god deal? Uh, dat would be a no, chief.”
“I worked for a time in a human psychiatric hospital,” Ganesh told him. “I don't have a formal certification. But I have a small practice, mostly with goddesses. Gods … can be assholes.”
Pickles frowned.
“What I'm asking, to be clear, would you like to talk to me? I mean, formally? As your doctor? I can't continue with you, as we've been. I could still be your friend, but it would be unethical...”
“To den feck my brains out?”
“Well. Yes.”
Pickles looked around at the jumble of medical ephemera. “I don't wanna rehash everyt'ing. I jest wanna get back to playing. T'ink yoo c'd do dat?”
“That would be the goal, then.”
Pickles searched Ganesh's eyes. For some reason, maybe it was the bookshelf posed in back of him, he really did look like some kind of doctor now. “You gonna tell me to give up da drugs an booze?”
“Er. What happened last time you did that?”
“I started back. In a week.”
“Um-hm. What I thought to use, as a treatment option, and, well, first, you should confirm to me whether or not you're under my treatment, so this conversation will be … confidential?”
Pickles stared. Confidential from who, he thought? He was too damned curious now to say no. So he said, “Yeh, dood, shure.”
“As you know, my colleague, Elegba and I have been making some study of magical enchanments....”
“No way!" Pickles was suddenly standing up straight. "Yer gonna be my witch doctor?”
“I am a vodouisant!” Ganesh declared.
“Dis is awesome! C'n I git an elephant head yoo t'ink?”
“I thought your goal was to resume playing concerts?”
“Oh, I know! Wut about some o' dose extra arms! Dose c'ld come in handy fer drummin'! Heh.”
Having sent Pickles home with a formal appointment on his book (once he located his book under a pack of coffee mugs bearing the logo of a pharmaceutical company and a 3D model of the basal ganglia) Ganesh emerged from his office to find another visitor at his residence.
“Jacque! It is good go see you!”
'I'm looking for my fucking grandkids!” blustered Jacque, as Elias played happily on his lap.
“Sadly, this is all as yet we have to offer.”
“This is it?”
“Yeah, that's it, Papa,” laughed Charles.
“How fucking long have you two been married now?” asked Jacque.
“Precisely how many would you require, Jacque?” asked Ganesh.
“How about ten? That's a good even fucking number.”
“Fine,” Ganesh told him. “Then we will simply seek out ten virtuous maidens....”
“WHAT? You have ANY FUCKING IDEA how long that's gonna take? To find even one virtuous goddam maiden....”
“Papa, you wanna fucking kid, why don't you just have another one?” asked Charles.
“Well. I'm getting kinda old. Set in my ways.”
"Papa,” said Charles, “one magical angel love god kid is about all we can handle."
"Hi. We're here to see the magical love god kid!" Raziel had just appeared, holding on to Abby's hand. Elias giggled, squirmed off his grandfather's lap, and ran to give his intended a big sticky kiss.
"Did we have a play date, Raziel?" asked Ganesh.
"Actually, no. We just left another toy here, somewhere. Though I'm kinda starting to think she leaves them on purpose," she said, tugging on Abby's topknot. The toddler looked up at her, blue eyes all innocence.
"More Pretty Pretty Princess crap?" asked Charles.
"No," said Raziel. "It's Enchanted Crystal Angel..."
Abby babbled off something in Japanese.
"Enchanted Crystal Princess Angel Virtue Fighter," Raziel told them. "It's the hottest thing in Japan!"
"I thought you told me Functional Bunny was the biggest thing in Japan," Ganesh told her.
"Silly Ganesh," scolded Raziel, holding up one well manicured finger. "That was TWO DAYS AGO! If you have a kid, you gotta keep up."
"Can you find Abby's toy, Boon?" Charles asked. Elias nodded furiously and then, slipping his chubby hand into Abby's, they ran off towards the nursery.
"Just get the toy and come back!" Charles shouted after them. "I'm too fucking young for grandkids!"
“You're coming on the hunt right, Jacque?” asked Raziel. “Wotan has been asking!”
“What kinda prey you after, my dear?”
"It's a Super big secret, BUT!" said Raziel, leaning over conspiratorially. “Wotan is tracking a herd of LAUGHING DEMONS!"
"Oh, fuck no!" declared Charles.
"They are supposed to be fair sport," protested Ganesh.
"I've heard they're pretty tasty in a barbecue sauce!" said Jacque, licking his lips.
"I hate those fucking things!" Charles grumbled.
"Well, doesn't if make you want to kill them horribly?" laughed Raziel.
"The screeching? And chuckling? And taunting?"
"Remember, they're not laughing at you. Well, actually, I think they are laughing at you. Oh, here we are!"
Elias and Abby had returned, a toy now clutched in Abby's little hand.
"What the hell is that?" asked Charles. "A rock?"
"It's Magical Virtuous Angel blah blah blah's power up weapon. It's actually pretty cool. Show 'em, Abby."
The little girl held the object out in one little hand, and, waving the other over it, declared, "Madikal Birtue Anjoo Powah!" The seemingly inert plastic toy suddenly lit up in throbbing pastel rainbow colors, started playing a cheery little pop tune, and, as the impressed adults watched, floated up to hover an inch above Abby's little hand.
"That's not bad," Charles admitted.
"I want one!" Ganesh cried.
"Dream*Mart," Raziel told them.
"Can you get me one? Pleeease?" pleaded Ganesh.
"All right, dear," said Raziel, patting his knee. "So I can expect you all first thing tomorrow?"
Charles grunted noncommittally.
"Are you going too, darlin'?" asked Jacque.
"Oh, hell no! This is a male bonding experience! Abby and I are gonna spend the day together, wargaming the Crimean War with Uncle William!"
"Da chaj a da lide biggade!" Abby chirped.
"That's right, pumpkin. The British military. Pffft! Are we ready to go?" she asked her daughter, extending a hand. Abby received another sticky smooch goodbye, and then, grabbing her mother's hand, blew a tiny kiss back at Elias just before they disappeared.
"Ah, that one's a saucy wench, eh?" Jacque asked Elias.
"Sawsee wenge?" the boy asked, climbing back atop his grandfather's lap.
"Don't let her catch you saying that. She'll whack you with her angel crystal rock," Charles warned him.
"Can I kidnap your cabin boy?" asked Jacque, standing up holding his grandson. "We need to learn more dirty limericks!"
"Gir fwum nanducked!" Elias squeed.
"You're a quick learner!" Jacque chuckled.
"Certainly, Jacque. You'll bring him up to Valhalla tomorrow?" asked Ganesh.
"You wanna go huntin' with your Papa?"
"Yeah, an da wide da hosies!" Elias agreed.
"You two! Work on those grandkids!" ordered Jacque as he disappeared.
"It is the first thing upon my mind," Ganesh sighed as he sank into the couch. He swung his feet into Charles' lap. "Would you be a good saucy wench and rub my feet?"
"I thought you were the saucy wench," laughed Charles, slipping off Ganesh's shoes.
"You are coming along tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Someone needs to make sure my boys don't get eaten by demons, I guess. "And I have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to do about protecting Wotan."
"And your, er, daughter?"
"Raziel is gonna figure something out. And Pie - uh, I mean, 31415 - said he'd personally watch out that she doesn't burn the place down." Charles looked around. "Did Pickles go home?"
"Mmmm," said Ganesh.
"What does that mean?"
"I have decided to personally attend to his case. It is probably something I should have considered earlier."
"You're WHAT?"
"His case involves abuse rendered by a magical being! There is really no one more qualified than I to find a solution."
"Ganesh! Are you gonna voodoo my gods damned drummer!"
"Only a little!"
"Just.... Don't turn him into a fucking zombie! Although, come to think of it, the other boys would probably think at was awesome...."
"Jaanu?” asked Ganesh.
“Yeah?”
“What has happened to your shoes?
Charles regarded his stockinged feet and sighed.
Many years ago....
“I ate too much demon barbecue!"
“It seems your fault. You were the one wagering with Tyr.”
“Little bastard. He's got a hollow fucking leg, I swear.”
Ganesh laughed. “And he is not so little any more, so I've seen.”
“No, out of all of 'em, I'm the runt,” Baldr sighed.
“You are taller still than Skanda,” Ganesh assured him.
“Where the fuck is that guy, anyway?”
“I don't know. And I really don't care,” Ganesh told him, stopping just outside the stables to light a cigarette.
“You never reconciled with him?”
“Why should I?”
“The sons of Odin: we all get along now! Even Thor. Though he can be an ass.”
“That is Skanda's natural state.”
“Still, as brothers....”
“I'm not completely convinced that is true,” said Ganesh, blowing smoke. “Now, you wanted to show me your new mount?”
“I wanted to show you something,” Baldr said, pulling him close. All at once, he was trying to kiss and grope and remove clothing and everything at the same time.
“Shhh,” said Ganesh, pushing Baldr back ever so slightly, a finger to Baldr's lips. “Don't be in such a hurry.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because we have plenty of time, dear. Plenty of time.” Baldr looked down in surprise. Ganesh was embracing him with two arms, but then had two more arms out, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Oh, fuck yeah!” said Baldr, who was soon back to occupying his mouth elsewhere.
But they were not the only two beings about the Valhallan stables at that moment.
“Are you troubled, Lord Skanda?”
Skanda looked up to the spider spinning a web in the corner.
“Loki. Quit being an ass.”
“I'm not currently being an ass, as you may have surmised,” said the spider, leaping onto the broad-shouldered god's back.
“I'm not like the rest of these idiots. I can see through your silly disguises.”
“No. You're not like the rest of us, are you?” This quieted Skanda for the moment. “Lord Ganesh is being a bit wanton?”
“Wanton? You fucked a horse.”
“Well,” said Loki, casting out a bit of thread and swinging back to the dusty corner of the stables. “If you ever want to do anything more than glower about it, perhaps you should talk to me.”
“What do you mean?” asked Skanda.
“Ganesh,” Loki tutted, flicking his legs. “Such an unworthy heir. So easily distracted.”
“But he is the second son. I am the first.”
“But, if he is bonded with Baldr? Odin is terribly powerful. Terribly powerful. It would be a noble alliance. Shiva cannot ignore this. As he cannot ignore … many other things.”
Skanda stole a glance at the Loki spider. The man unnerved him even in his human guise. Those eyes! There was something not right. On the other hand, all knew Baldr was the favorite of Odin's brats, and his lust for Ganesh had now clearly gotten out of control. And Ganesh.... Well, he saw things. Things he shouldn't.
Did Loki see this too? What did he know?
"What would you have me do, Loki?" asked Skanda.
Loki smiled a spidery smile. He dropped back upon Skanda's shoulder. Then he crawled close, so he could whisper directly into Skanda's ear.