Blood Moon || Loki [2]

[12] Where the Heart Is

21 OCTOBER, 2013

ASTRID

She remembered saying something dramatically dimwitted to Heimdall, the Gatekeeper (something like "You're still handsome"), to which he replied something like "Your mark on the universe is fading, young one." She had just smiled weakly at him while Thor escorted her and Jane across the bridge she thought she would never return to.

Her energy returned in small bursts once the residue of her rifts disappeared, so once they reached the giant golden palace with its spires scraping the endless sky, Astrid finally panicked.

King Odin would kill her if he knew she was here. After all, he'd nearly taken her head with him to shove into a display case the last time she stepped foot on this world: the traitor with incredible magic who had let an army of Dark Elves flood into Asgard. They had not parted on good terms; she guessed he would refuse to consider a trial this time.

She would just have to blend in. Easy.

"Thor," she said, "why did you bring Jane?"

"She is sick with something I cannot name. I had no choice but to bring her here, and I couldn't leave you on Earth." Thor had Jane's hand in his, mostly to steer her away from bumping into things while she stared open-mouthed at the living universe around her.

"I feel fine," said Jane absently, watching a comet streak across the sky.

"You're not fine, Jane," said Thor, holding her face in his hands so she would look at him. "Let me help you."

Astrid watched them. Watched the gooey admiration cover Jane's eyes like a pane of glass. "I'm fine," she whispered.

"I want to be sure." He smoothed her hair behind her ear. "I won't lose you."

Her hand was so small when it overlapped his. "Okay."

Astrid looked away, averting her gaze from the couple and the guards and any other living things. The only safe place to look was the ground.

Loki was on Asgard. He was here, alive, rotting in a cage below the castle. He'd taken her planet hostage, killed so many of its inhabitants, tried to slay his brother, tried to forget she had ever existed...

And, for all he knew, she was dead.

She squared her shoulders. She didn't care about Loki. She didn't care that he thought about her. She certainly didn't care that he was locked away for the rest of his too-long life. In fact, it was what he deserved. Astrid's magic began to pool warmly inside her, little fires sprouting along her veins. "We should go," she said.

"Yes," said Thor, taking hold of Jane's hand again. "Are you all right, Astrid?"

"Peachy." She didn't even think once about Loki, so close to her, stuck mere feet below the palace, dreaming about her, perhaps suffering a great deal. "I'm going to need a disguise."

~

For Jane, Thor had a servant bring a dress of fine, deep blue silk overlaid with a coppery shawl. She looked ethereal. Of course, Astrid could not be seen. So, Thor stole a spare servant's gown that was far too long, and Jane helped her pin it haphazardly. At least the slit on the left side meant she could aim a kick if necessary. She let her hair down, brushed through it with her fingers, and then slipped on a (stolen) pair of strong-soled leather sandals that wrapped like snakes up her calves. She even carried around an armful of the choppy fabric to make it look like she was busy.

"You look beautiful," said Astrid, once she slipped into the infirmary just behind Jane and Thor.

Jane tried to conceal her smile, but she was a scientist, so she failed. "So do you. I like the shoes."