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lokiinmediasideblog · 2 years ago

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Because I'm Bored:

Where do I rank in terms of MCU Loki Apologism?

Things I think Loki was justified in doing:

1. Killing Laufey-For all he knows, this was the man that abandoned him to die from exposure. This is revenge in its purest form and ALSO a way to show his loyalty to Asgard and Odin. And based on the original script, Loki was illegitimate and an unwanted runt abandoned to die (I also think he is not fully Jotun, and I think this played into WHY he was abandoned).

2.Lying to Thor about Odin’s death and his banishment-Loki just discovered he is a Frost Giant, like the ones Thor swore to kill, has been shown to have killed at the slightest provocation, and Asgard thinks of as monsters. Making sure Thor does not return is self-preservation. As a closeted person, I find the idea that Loki should have told Thor or known he would understand, ridiculous.Have you all not heard of living situations with bigoted relatives with a history of violence?

3. Nearly killing Thor with the Destroyer-Notice his previous attempt to keep Thor away did not involve violence and would have sufficed if Thor’s friends had not interfered… Say you have a brother that hates people like you, with a history of violent behavior towards people like you, and with the ability to fry the fuck out of you or smash you into puree with his magic hammer. Would you like to have that brother around?

4. Impersonating Odin and sending Odin to a retirement home-It’s self-preservation. Frigga’s no longer there to plead for his life. And I find it hilarious he was the only one to give Odin a taste of his own medicine. GOOD FOR HER! And how the fuck would he have known about Hela? Odin had been able to break through Loki’s magic, but he just decided to chill on Earth for some reason, and dump Hela’s existence on them.

By the way, I saw an interesting theory that Odin remained on Earth to strand Hela on Midgard so that she’d lay waste to Midgard instead of Asgard, but Loki calling the Bifrost changed that, ironically saving Earth and dooming Asgard. Technically, that would mean Loki unknowingly doomed Asgard, but I am not mad. How much like Odin to shuck his problems away for others to deal with.

5.Escaping from the TVA the first chance he gets. Self-preservation.

6. Being the Villain. Technically, that’s the TVA’s fault. They’ve pruned Lokis whenever they veer away from their ordained path. LOL I feel like Villain PR saying this and I am laughing my ass off. And although it’s for shits and giggles, it’s technically true in the MCU?

Loki’s not justified in:

1. Letting the Jotuns in for shits and giggles. I have seen way to many people claim it’s because he cared for Asgard, and that’s bullshit. He was jealous of Thor and he has no qualms sacrificing others (like the handful of dead guards and Jotuns) to fulfill his plans.

2.Attempted genocide of Jotunheim. Self-explanatory. He was only wronged by one Jotun, not the entire realm, and even if the entire realm had wronged him, genocide is NEVER a warranted option.

3. Cutting Sif’s hair. That’s just unnecessarily cruel. I headcannon he likes to sabotage relationships.

4. The attempted betrayal at Sakaar. Not sure what was going on through his head at that point. I think he got angry because Thor compared him to Sakaar, which he actually hates, and seemed to have given up on him. Or does he think keeping Thor and himself on Sakaar will keep them safer because they won’t confront Hela? I will go with a bit of both. I could DEFINITELY go into Villain PR mode and argue he was justified in trying to keep Thor “safe” in Sakaar because the Revengers didn’t really have a plan other than “go back to Asgard and try to fight Hela and die trying”. But I still don’t personally think it was “justified.”

5. Stabbing Thor. I just included it because it’s not justified based on context, since it came out of nowhere. But I would not use it to condemn how “Evil” Loki has ALWAYS BEEN in those posts complaining about Loki’s woobification. I would need more context on how grave an injury that would be for Asgardians. Is it some typical childhood game/fights wound? Asgardians survive being Hulk smashed, the void, impaled, and a freaking Neutron star. A stab seems like a slap in comparison. It has the same level of justification as slapping your sibling in the face when you were a kid. Unjustified, but not a big deal.

Things I am on the fence about:

1. Whatever the fuck happened for him to end up with Thanos. It’s unclear how much was him and how much was the mind stone, coercion, or some other kind of mindfuckery (there are altered memories (being yeeted by Thor into the Void rather than letting go) and that scene with the Other implying threats, past torture, psychic pain, or future torture). I think he wasn’t exactly innocent nor entirely willing. I think he saw Earth as his brother’s ant farm that he will fuck around with out of revenge, he approached Thanos willingly, but then the Black Order gained too much leverage and control on him, and the situation snowballed out of his control into an avalanche.

Another head-cannon I have is that Loki actually died in the void, but was brought back from Hel. He was willing to do anything to avoid returning there, and it’s why he made sure to try to die in battle in TDW and IW. The need to avoid Hel cultivated a fucked up sense of gratefulness and vulnerability that was exploited by the Black Order (maybe I will write it sometime). I think this because him and Thanos talk too much about resurrections and dying multiple times. Either of my Head cannons imply threats and therefore coercion, even if the Word-Of-God mind stone influence is not involved. But we also don’t know the how and why Loki ended up with Thanos.

2. I don’t think I can blame him for Frigga’s death. I know he blames himself, and he definitely had some malicious intent when giving directions (not towards Frigga). Giving someone the directions to the stairs shouldn’t exactly change much? It’s not like he plotted with the Dark Elves and disabled Asgard’s defenses. The elves were tracking the Aether and would have found it eventually, and Frigga was protecting Jane and willing to sacrifice herself for Jane. Frigga’s death is more on Jane for being reckless and fucking around with unknown phenomena without a scrap of PPE or caution, becoming a mcguffin for the film’s entirety. Jane has the common sense of white people from horror movies. Woman has no braincells. There, I fucking said it.

3. I don’t know how to feel about the opening scene in IW and I hate it. I just think it was a terrible plan and a waste of character development. And we don’t even know if it had any significant positive effects. It was both self-sacrificial and selfish nonetheless. Did it keep Thanos from killing more Asgardians? Did it only save Thor, and was that the only thing Loki cared about? If so, Loki sacrificed the entire universe for his brother. Very in-character, but it was a waste of sacred timeline Loki.

Things other people were justified in:

1. Heimdall being suspicious of Loki and attempting to behead Loki as the king regent. Heimdall was suspicious of the blind spots in his vision. Who can hide from him? Loki. And then he caught Loki quite red-handed.

2. I don’t know why Thor gets so much shit for not knowing what’s up with Loki in Avengers, and I doubt he could help him or that Loki thinks he would or could help him in the first place.

3. The Hulk giving him the ragdoll treatment. It’s hilarious and the best part of the movie. And I mean, he did wreak havoc in NYC.

4. Thor electrocuting Loki in Ragnarok. Loki was about to betray Thor. And again, they are pretty hardy. Loki survived the Hulk, the void, and impalement. Enough said. Could this have ended horribly for Loki? Of course and there are wonderful DEAD DOVE fics about it.

5. Sylvie being angry after he broke the Tempad and got drunk. Self-explanatory. How the fuck does this ever get called “abusive”? They both could have died because of Loki's tomfoolery.

6. Sylvie killing HWR and sending Loki away. It was not “abusive”, she’s barely known Loki for IDK how long. Compare that to having a goal for millenia. And she sent him away because she didn’t want to kill him.

7. Sif kicking him ONCE like it happened in the original timeline because he cut her hair. Self explanatory, and kinda eye for an eye. But what the TVA did was just cruel and unnecessary (and basically torture).

LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY MISDEEDS

#mcu!loki #mcu!thor #mcu!odin #mcu!heimdall #MCU #mcu!sylvie #mcu!jane #mcu!sif #mcu!thanos #mcu!frigga #my loki apologism #mcu!hela #mcu!hulk #mcu!laufey #hot takes

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smolvenger · 10 months ago

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A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 21 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: You are reunited with your husband. And a new key to defeating Grendel is revealed. Prompting the beginning of several journeys across time in Midgard. Starting in Buffalo, NY, 1901.

Word Count: 6K (make some tea)

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! SMUT at the beginning!(Masturbation, penis in vagina sex). Curse Words. Bullying. Mentions of violence. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped my radar. A plot hole that I will figure out how to fill later. Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!

DICK-tionary: Smut starts at "Loki....Loki, please, I need you," and ends at “Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded."

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Loki carried you to his bed.

No, it wasn’t just his bed anymore, you reminded yourself. It was your bed.

Laying you down on top of it, not caring for the stains of dirt and blood on your nightgown, he hovered gently over you. He pressed his lips to yours. His body pressing on top of you. You cupped his face and kept him close. Already your hips touching. You pulled in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him.

No more fire. No more blood. You needed tenderness. Intimacy. Wanting to forget your name, forget everything except him. To not feel the hilt of a blade. Instead, you felt his hand bunching up your skirt, exploring your leg again as if it was the first time he saw your care skin.

Reaching out your hand onto his, you led it up your body. Your skirt was left as you led him to touch you. You stopped the path on one of your breasts. You could hear the breath in him tighten as he felt it, bunching it up to see how the bodice of your gown was lowering. Wanting to show him more.

“Loki…please…please, I need you…” you begged.

He paused and released his hand.

“Shhh,” he hushed you.

One of his long fingers traced your cheek, going down from your neck to the collar of your nightgown. A tiny gasp came out of you as he dragged it down.

“No need to remind me, my dear. The way you react when I touch you- I know you need me…”

. You shivered as that one long finger went between your breastbone. His eyes greedily searching for your nipples, perked beneath the whiteness.

“My poor little wife, all alone out there without me…”

He lowered his finger’s trail to your stomach. He then went to beneath your skirt, feeling your leg again.

“How badly did she miss me, I wonder?”

Going up, just barely before your entrance. You felt your hips buck to him. A smile of deviousness graced your husband’s lips. You were getting wet between your legs, you felt your breath hitch and part of you tremble. Then he removed it.

“What a pitiful little gown you have on. Now that you’ll be in here every night, I’ll have you wearing ones of silk that cover even less. And only for me. Yet this…”

He undid the bodice of your nightgown and pulled it down over your shoulders, revealing your breasts.

“You may as well be naked in this! I may as well…”

He tugged it down and you helped him. Flicking it off to the floor. With a simple flick, your nightgown vanished and you were naked.

“Well, well- what do we have here?” he teased.

This time his hand caught your bare breast and squeezed it, a thumb over the nipple. You let out a moan.

“Tell me, my pet- did you miss me?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Did you get wet at the thought of me? Of our little trysts?”

“I…I did…”

He went to your ear, barely kissing it as he whispered.

“Did you touch yourself then?” he whispered.

“Yes…”

He went to your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“I would do it…alone…in my room…it would be night…I’d be lonely, I couldn’t sleep…and I would think of you….I’d think of the cabin. When you deflowered me. Then when you took me on the table. Or our wedding night..and I…I…I needed you and…and I remembered where you would touch me, so I…”

He took your wrist gently and moved it to your sex.

“Show me how…how would you touch yourself at night, alone in your bed…” he whispered.

With a breath, you slid one finger in, rubbing it against your swollen clit. You began to strum it at a steady rhythm, your hips moving to it. A moan escaped you. He watched greedily, smiling wide.

Your breath hitched. You felt something rise. You made the strumming faster, opening your legs wider.

“L-Loki- I’d-I’d think of you…think of you and…”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it above you.

“Wait- wait,” he ordered.

The lungs in your air nearly halted. You were frustrated- so close to release. And here he was, as clothed as you were naked.

“There’s a certain sight you’ve been missing, my dear…and your poor little fingers could never quite recreate what we have here…let me fix both…”

With a tilt of his head, his clothes vanished as well. You took in his strong abdominals, the little dark hairs on his chest, his wide pectorals for his slim frame. His cock- large and so hard it touched his stomach.

Loki leaned closer. He pinned you down onto the bed. You felt his erection near you, grazing your skin, your body. He grabbed your legs and hoisted them up.

“I want you loud…your parents will know who gives their good little girl pleasure every night…I want you loud…I want every person in this castle to hear, and when you cum it’s my name you’ll be crying out- they’ll know who you married to…and no man in that muddy town and no man in that castle can lay hands on what is mine, hm? Because none can make her cum like I can…”

He stopped your hand, raising it back up. He teased your entrance and you felt yourself shiver.

“Loki…Loki please…just…just take me, fuck me- fuck me into this bed…”

He lowered himself. You eagerly pulled yourself and kissed his neck. That was where he was weak. He let out a groan as you did. Your hips met his. Your entrance grazed him.

“Please….just love me…fuck me…” you begged in whispers between kisses.

He hovered right where he would be inside you.

“Wait…” he rasped. You were shaking, desperate for him.

“Tell me you’re mine…and I’ll give you what you want…”

Part of you froze beneath him.

“Say it!” he ordered sharply.

“I-I-I’m yours!” you whispered.

He smiled.

“Good….good little wife…”

With one thrust he was inside you. Deep, a right angle, hitting past your clit. You moaned out.

“Yes-yes like that- Norns-I’ve missed this-I’ve missed you-Filling you-Feeling you around me, trying to have all of me- and doing it-” he groaned out.

He held up your legs and then slammed his hips in. You let out a cry. His pace increased.

“You-you wanted-wanted to be fucked?! Here-” he said.

With a gasp, he got fast. He was harsher than when he took your maidenhead in the cabin on a winter’s night. He began to pound into you. Your breasts bouncing.

“Oh! Oh god-god-fuck-fuck yes-” You cried out.

“Yes, I’m your god- and-and you want to cum, don’t you?” he panted as he pounded into you. “God, you beneath, begging for me-I’m-I’m not gonig to last either-I-”

One hand lowered to your clit, edging you on. The spinning rose. The bed was already hitting the wall.

“Yes-I’m yours- Loki-Loki I’m-I’m going to-to-”

The pleasure burst. A moany, desperate “F-fuck!” flew out of you.

A sound came from Loki as he too reached his climax and groaned in gradual spurts. As if it grew out of him. His hot seed shooting inside you.

He was panting, his mouth open. His blue eyes opened to look down at you and a smile was on him, despite himself.

“Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded.

Loki released how he held himself and gently lowered on top of you. Not for lust, but for tenderness. He held onto you and nuzzled into your skin. Hugging him back, you rubbed your fingers in circles against his back. The silence was filled with your souls returning to your body.

Catching your breath, you released a little of the embrace to look into his eyes.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He smiled. No ironic smirk, but a genuine, sweet smile. He leaned into your touch.

“I love you so much I cannot even say a thing right now…” he replied.

“Then don’t,” you said.

Moving your arms back around his body, you pulled him close. Embracing each other in silence, feeling each other’s pulse, and the movement of breath in the other. And not saying one word but basking in the warmth of each other. If there was a Heaven or Valhalla, you knew you had tasted it now.

Minutes passed blissfully. Until you felt your stomach’s emptiness like a knife inside of you. Then you whispered a request into his ear. Loki nodded and conjured soft robes of silk for both of you.

He opened the door, gesturing for a servant in the hallway to approach him.

“Please bring my wife something to eat,” he asked.

The servant nodded and left. Soon they returned with a meal on a golden platter..

As Loki accepted it, you heard the Servant begin to speak boldly.

“Your parents say there is a crucial meeting in an hour. It’s concerning Grendel. They hope you and the Princess shall be present. It is in the usual room,” he reported.

“Very well. Tell them we shall be ready, then,” he said.

The Servant nodded. Then Loki closed the door and walked over to the bed as you sat on it. He set the platter on top of the covers. With the roasting chicken smelling fresh, as well as noticing butter on the vegetables and bread, you found yourself salivating.

As you tucked in, you didn’t want to think of how now realms were in danger. How Odin knew Loki’s secret and how he would only have shared glory as a hero. That you had to recover to have your powers returned.

You wanted to enjoy what pleasures you had in your life while you still had them before they could be taken away from you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The servants delivered a change of clothes. You put on a golden dress. Its silky material is soft as skin, making you run your hands on it to feel how it slides cleanly. Loki donned his traditional dark green and black leather. Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognized a face without petticoats.

“Do I look like an Asgardian?” you asked.

“You’re missing an eye patch like Father,” he teased.

An exhale of laughter shot from you and you smiled at him.

“Don’t fret- you are royalty now. They should be concerned about looking like you instead,” he assured you.

Loki offered his elbow and you placed an arm around his as you left the room to head to the meeting. Your footsteps echoed down columned hallways.

When you arrived, your husband knocked. Voices hushed from inside and a servant opened.

How different that little meeting looked with so many more faces inside.

There was the usual circle of the variants. Thomas talked to Jonathan as they looked over a book between them. Hal and Robert already seated. But now The royal family was added- Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Even Stella sat on a table with her sewing on her lap as Sif stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of the sheathed sword on her hip.

Odin cleared his throat.

“Now, then- let us commence,” The AllFather intoned.

He gestured and everyone standing sat into a chair. They creaked against the floor as people moved theirs. For a second, eyes looked uneasily on him. Beneath the table, your hand reached for Loki’s and he held it.

“It is no longer wise for your little club to face Grendel alone. Especially if he is a threat to our people and our realm, you will need our army, our warriors,” Odin began.

You hated that you agreed with every word he said.

“But the true reason I have called this is because it appears that one of you has made a crucial discovery…” Odin continued. A glimmer in his eye.

He swept an arm to Thomas, then curled his fingers to signal him to stand.

The Baronet smiled. He brought the book out from his lap and placed it on the table.

“My good friends, I have been doing a great deal of research for some time. I wish to assure you, that although my skills in a battle are not quite as refined as others, I wish to be useful in other matters.”

Thomas opened the book and turned the yellowed pages as he continued to speak.

“It took hours of sourcing every book in the archives for information on Grendel. His history, especially any possible weaknesses. Most of them needed to be translated from the ancient tongue word by word. But just this morning, I discovered this.”

He pointed at one specific page.

Everyone craned their neck to look. There was ancient Asgardian text in faded black ink, the lines curving and leaning to the left. You noticed small, detailed illustrations around it of a sword, a crown, a ring, and a mask.

Thomas looked at Jonathan. The Night Manager pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to Thomas, who read the translation aloud.

“Lo, to great praise of the gods,

Did Wise Grendel, go forth,

Long days did he spend,

WENT he forth across many,

Until the cauldron was found.

His death he shreds into it,

And forth did it birth its trove four.

The black ring, a bloodied sword,

An unkinged crown, and a mask of death.

For dreaded death did he ween away,

And death shadow dark did he peel off,

Placing them forth and upon,

Like weeds upon a ship,

The troves, which he then scatter.

Woe for the man,

Who in hell and hatred keeps his soul?

For the trove for that great foe.

THUS was Grendel reared immortal,

Reborn, that is, made freshly new.”

Silence followed. Then Thomas continued.

“In layman’s terms, there are four items called Troves that emerged out of the cauldron when Grendel was granted his immortality from it. A ring, a sword, a mask, and a crown. I confess I had to visit Jotunheim for our Prophet friend again and make him an offering. And it is rather convenient he is fond of a good roast chicken!”

The Prophet- how had it been so long since you had seen him? Since he told you Loki was your True Love? You glanced at your husband and smiled at him and he back. Then you turned to Thomas again.

“He confirmed what I suspected. He said the troves were scattered throughout time and in two countries in Midgard, mostly England. Oddest of all…They are located in our timelines.”

Thomas gestured to himself and then to each variant.

America in mine, A small village in Jonathans, Eastcheap in Hal’s, and, Robert….well, you can guess where the one in yours had been placed.”

Robert turned pale.

Loki placed an elbow on the table and cocked an eyebrow.

“How incredibly thoughtful of him to make it easy on us! It’s so coincidental, we may as well have our names written in that book!”

Jonathan folded his arms.

“If he had access to a prophet of his own, it could be another trap for us,” he said.

“But what options do we have?” Robert asked.

“If it’s a trap, I’ll take Grendel and slaughter him myself!” Thor boasted, pumping his fist in the air.

“It’s easier said than done,” Frigga advised him, placing a hand on his arm to get him to stop.

“So, we must go to each of these places in those times. We must retrieve and destroy these items. And then, we have a key to defeating Grendel,” you recalled.

Thomas nodded his head.

“Is there a city where the ring was found in? You didn’t list one,” Jonathan asked.

“Oh, forgive me, I’m not familiar with the city the ring is in,” Thomas explained.

“What is its name?” Frigga asked.

“It’s a city called Buffalo in the year of 1901. The Prophet said it could be found among the upper class of the city. So I believe that is where we must go- and we all must behave. We all know royalty is one thing, high society is another.” Thomas advised.

Frigga nodded her head.

“If it is the least familiar, then finding the troves in the others shall be easier. You must go there first. And we must find a way to alert the army should there be trouble,” she advised.

“Why, good fellows, let us use that little bracelet! Should it not work when the army of our King can be brought forth? Especially through the gifts of our gracious queen?” Hal asked.

Frigga smiled.

“Yes, if those watches can send the signal, I can summon a portal for the army to go through. We can’t just send all of them over there. Grendel would get suspicious,” she added.

Stella leaned forward, her needlework placed on her lap. She then spoke for the first time since the meeting began.

“I think I’d like to go,” she replied shyly.

“It could be dangerous,” Sif warned.

“Ah, but American Society is dangerous in itself. And not all of you know how to behave among them. Miss Harris, I agree- you would be a natural among them,” Thomas said.

Stella gave Thomas a small smile. Jonathan turned stiff seeing the exchange, a quiet ferocity in his eyes toward the Baronet.

“Stella knows her way around people. How to talk to them and befriend them. She couldn’t be impolite if you begged her to be. And Aldwinter loved her for that,” you recalled.

“I could help in some ways. Search for it, talk to others to distract them, have them trust us,” Stella suggested.

All of you looked at each other. Thor was drumming his fingernails on the table.’’

“But if there should be a battle!” the god cried.

“Not all battles are with swords, brother,” Loki replied.

“Of course that would help. Sif can guard her. We could use Stella. Any bit of help we can get.” Robert advised. His hands reached to his shirt pocket for a cigarette and finding none, rested on the table.

“And…I would like another thing, please…” Stella continued.

The eyes were on her. Your friend then relaxed, though eyes were on her. Her voice was brighter with her growing confidence.

“I….I’m tired of always being taken, being hurt. I don’t want it to happen anymore. Could I…could I learn to fight just a little, please? Just enough to protect myself. I don’t wish for any glory on the battlefield, I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just…I want to feel safe. Please,” she requested.

Loki smiled.

“Well then, you are quite welcome,” Loki began.

Sif turned to her.

“I’ll show you. I know how a woman can fight off a man. You’ll have lessons before you go- where to strike where it hurts. And you better pay attention,” she offered.

“She is worth every sore muscle!” you assured your friend.

Stella’s pink lips curved into a smile.

“Thank you, all of you,” she said.

Odin crossed his arms.

“Well, one sorceress in Asgard and another-” his eye went to you. “Sent off to Midgard. With the Princess’s gifts and your proper training, I have a little hope in me.”

You raised your hand to speak.

“Your highness-AllFather-I, I was tricked into eating Kunniger. The poison drained me of my gifts. I’ll need the tea from the Brunhilde flowers in Jotunheim. And enough to drink for at least two days,” you insisted.

Thor perked up.

“Oh! Brunhilde flowers then? Why, sister, then we must fetch them for you! And you shall be back to your magical glory in no time! Why, I should get them myself!” he replied eagerly, beating his fist on the table. It seemed that the table and everyone jumped in response.

Odin nodded his head.

“Then, it is settled. We will have two days- during which I expect everyone who is able to train vigorously. Then, you set forth in Midgard starting with the kingdom known as Buffalo. You all know what you must do- find the troves. Destroy them. Consider this a command from your king.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

While unleashing Thor among the upper crust of New York was like unleashing a bull into a china shop, he was useful in other ways.

Thor ran to Jotunheim like a dog released in a field. He grabbed as many Brunhilde flowers as he could and ran back, the tiny purple blooms bunched in his large fist. He brought you forth his prize at your feet.

For two days, you drank the tea as you watched Sif train Stella. And how odd that this time you were the one watching and Stella was the one training! And Stella in a light brown exercise dress of your time.Different than her typical blue. dodging Sif’s punches was a sight to see.

Sif led Stella to one dummy and handed her a dagger. She pointed at its neck.

“Strike there and he’ll be weakened.”

She moved her finger to the heart.

“Strike there and he’ll be dead.”

Stella gripped the handle of the dagger with both hands.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she responded.

“Lady Harris, there are men worth killing. Men who will kill you first. Men who’ll do worse if alive- stab it!” she ordered.

Stella hurried forth and shakily plunged the dagger through the neck. Like pricking a needle into a sewing cushion.

“No! With force, girl!” Sif barked.

On the second afternoon, you could summon bits of flame. By that evening, you could hear the gossip of the kitchen maids (which Loki adored hearing you recount for entertainment). On the third day, you could move the items on your vanity around easily. You went to the training grounds and fetched a sword a mile away without moving a muscle. Targets of your own were set aflame easily.

Now it was time, and you could no longer delay. One minute wasted was one more advance Grendel would make behind your backs.

Everyone gathered in the meeting hall. Loki conjured clothes for everyone, for the ring was in Buffalo in the year 1901. The men had their waistcoats and cravats. Loki in his typical look. A black waistcoat with a green tie, with a black overcoat, a golden watch with its chain around his stomach, and a bowler hat. Thomas donned himself in black. He brought his top hat and placed it on his head. The men all had waistcoats in colors they favored. grey for Robert, a dark blue for Jonathan, and red for Hal.

The ladies had to have small gloves and dresses as well. Stella’s was sky blue and Sif was in black (though she complained the skirts were tight beneath her breath). Your dress was deep green along with your husband’s waistcoat.

But what amazed you were the puffed sleeves on the dresses. So within two decades, every lady would have them?! How astounding! You kept eyeing them on your shoulders with curiosity- you may as well attach hydrangea bushes to your person!

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, are we all ready? Not quaking in our little boots?” Loki asked.

There was no time to reply. Not that there was time for hesitation.

Loki conjured a golden portal and everyone stepped through. Bright colors swirled around you, hurting your eyes so much you had to close them.

Then, as you opened, you saw you were in Buffalo.

You were amidst the markets of the area, as carts moved about. You craned your neck to see tall white buildings. But the day was sunny with the crisp coolness of morning in the air. You could hear a distant train whistle and the chatter of people, happy for a new day and a fresh start. The city was twenty times larger than your village. The crowds were so thick, that you reached for your husband’s hand to not get lost. He held your own back. And indeed, everyone was dressed similarly to your group, right down to women with puffy sleeves.

All of you walked forward. Sticking close together as people hurried about. You stopped around one building, your feet staying on dry dirt roads far from any possible mud.

“Well, now, I have one little question. The one plaguing all of our minds right now. I may as well be the one to say it- how are we going to find one measly little ring in all of this?” asked Loki, gesturing his arms out to the city.

Jonathan put a hand out to him.

“Be patient,” he assured. “We’ll find a way.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Are all of you forgetting that I can sense things?” you replied. “Let me do a quick scan,” you offered.

The group held their breath. You closed your eyes and had your gifts reach out.

At first, it was overwhelming. Every smell, sound, and sight attacked you at once. Your shoulders tensed and you winced, but you had that word in your head like a mantra.

“Ring, ring- the cauldron’s ring…where is the cauldron’s ring?”

Taking a deep breath, you let each sensation pass you by. You let the words be your anchor.

Something nudged at you. As soft as a child asking for a glass of water at night.

The ring…there was someone…someone connected to the ring…it was…was…in a building, a few blocks away.

You opened your eyes, a smile growing on your face.

“Someone has it. They’re in an office building a few streets down,” you reported.

Loki took your hand, leaning to you with a look of triumph.

“My wife, a sorceress and ingenious,” he praised.

All of you hurried forth. You held your skirts over possible mud puddles, glad they’d cover your shoes. Your senses still out like a compass. Finally, a tall, bland-looking building loomed over your party and your senses quivered intensely within you.

“There! It’s there!” you confirmed with a point of your gloved hand.

Hurrying Inside, all of you paused. There were numerous rooms and a grand, wooden staircase. People walked to and fro in and out of doors. Ladies adjusted their hats in mirrors and you could smell cigar smoke.

“I can tell there is a hint here. There’s someone… but it’s…it’s hard to say….” you recalled. You were fresh from the poison, and maybe your senses were slightly dulled. You tried to reach out and could sense a presence, but you couldn’t tell what.

“Then rest your gifts, my dear,” Loki advised.

With a deep exhale, you released it, coming back to your neutral self.

“It will do. We have to start somewhere- we can search the building. Ask people, if desperate. Check for a ring.” Jonathan agreed.

Everyone had a scrap of paper in their pockets. An Asgardian artists made sketches from the illustration of this ring. A silver band with a black jewel in the center. You noticed Robert get it out to see it one more time before folding it back in.

“May as well start somewhere, sally forth, my friends,” Hal began, nodding his head.

“I’ll be back to you in an hour,” Loki said. He took your hand and kissed it as a promise.

The men began to scatter like children playing hide and seek. You saw Robert crudely looking at everyone’s hands and comparing the paper. They went across and vanished into doors all over the ground floor of the building.

You, Stella, and Sif looked at each other.

“Well, there they go,” Sif quipped.

“But who are we to sit about as they do the work? We can check the next floor up,” you asked.

The three of you lifted your skirts and walked upstairs.

As you climbed the steps, voices were chatting on the second floor. Emerging onto it, you all saw the source right in your path.

There was a small group of women with high chins and flowers in their hats. Society ladies. Their smiles were small and their eyes cold as they looked at one woman standing in front of them. As if not included. Not enough. Not one enough.

Their victim in question had blonde hair and a little tan coat and dress and hat. You noticed she had a manuscript in her hand that she hugged with both arms close to her chest like a shield.

One woman in front, who appeared to be the oldest among them, tilted her head and spoke with syrupy venom.

“Oh, we’re having a ball soon, by the way. Not that it should concern you, Edith. With those ink-stained hands, I doubt any gentleman would wish to dance with you. But isn’t that what you wanted, our own Jane Austen?” she said with a smile.

The ladies next to her snickered among themselves.

The young woman- Edith- turned pale and you found her posture tight.

Perhaps it was your unbridled emotions. Perhaps it was the confidence you gained from being turned from lady to warrior and princess and surviving Grendel. Perhaps it was the rage leftover from that marshy town where you made fire burst.

But you could not let them torment this lady- who seemed so small, so timid, so alone.

She wouldn’t be alone now.

Your feet approached them, crashing into their circle.

“And what makes you think you have the right to speak to her like that?” you asked.

Stella hurried forth and went to Edith.

“Why, is it true? Are you a writer?” she asked.

Edith blinked in surprise.

“Why, uh, yes, I am,” she replied meekly.

Stella made sure she was close. Diverting her attention, not causing any harm. The defense to your offense.

“Oh, how exciting! I must wonder at that- how hard you must work for your craft! How fascinating! I am Miss Stella Harris-forgive the intrusion- and you are-”

“Edith Cushing,” she confirmed.

You took a step closer to them.

“What are their names?” you asked Edith.

“Mrs. McMichael, her daughter Eunice, and their friends,” Edith introduced.

You looked down into the oldest woman’s eyes and she rose to yours without a hint of fear.

“Mrs. McMichael, I do not know what Miss Cushing has done to you- to any of you to deserve this. She is harming no one. She has an ambition and is set forth on it- that is a noble thing. And it is none of your business if she becomes a spinster! Haven’t you considered how hurt she must be when you say things to her?” you spat back.

Mrs. McMichael cocked her eyebrow.

“I must be blunt. Edith is unnatural, as one might say. She must know her place. She always has been. With a mind like hers, of course, no one will want her. We knew it from the beginning. We are simply educating her. She must know her place- how else can a pig know she is a pig?”

You had had enough.

“And going about bullying other people to make your own miserable life feel any better is a place you’re satisfied to be in?” you asked.

You got close, holding yourself restrained. Your hands itching to slap her, which you kept folded. But you looked directly into her eyes and spoke before you could be interrupted.

“Then I must be blunt, too- You wish to find a pig, Mrs. McMichael? Look in the mirror,” you replied.

There were gasps among the ladies. Even a “mother!” whispered from Eunice.

Before any of them could interject, you turned to join Stella and Edith and began to walk away. Sif only took a step closer.

“Don’t push it. And stay away from the girl- and us,” She warned gravely.

There were gasps. You turned around, hurrying your steps. Your momentum of triumph and anger pushing your little party of four forward. Edith only looked around with as much astonishment as the abandoned snobs. Three new faces looking at her. A lightness on her features for her surprise defense.

“Where are you going?” Sif asked.

“I am headed to the library- it’s up here. I’m meeting Mr. Ogilvie in an hour,” she pointed.

“Let us escort you,” you offered.

Edith grinned and you noticed how warm it was, how beautiful. With her blonde hair and sweet features, she was a pretty lady. Her shoulders dipped and her eyes glanced down at the manuscript in her hands as if it was her infant. She looked back up, beaming.

“I cannot thank all of you enough! Please- what is your name?”

Matching her grin, you reached out a hand in an introduction.

“I am Mrs. Laufeyson,” you introduced. It was the last name you and Loki agreed to have when traveling in Midgard.

“Miss Edith Cushing, and?” she turned to look at the dark-haired woman in dark clothes.

“Lady Sif-”

“Er, Miss Sif,” you corrected.

“What brings you here?” Edith asked.

“Buisness with my husband. Miss Harris and Miss Sif are my companions. Why do you need to meet this gentleman in the library?” you asked.

As you walked closer, you passed a window where sunlight draped down. Warming all of you for a brief minute. Glancing back, you saw the clique of society ladies titled their heads to watch and then went down the stairs with a huff.

‘He’s going to look at my manuscript and consider publishing it!” Edith boasted.

“Oh, how exciting!” Stella replied.

“! You must have us read it too!” you agreed. Even Sif raised an eyebrow.

Edith guided you all to the door with the library.

“Oh- after the meeting, we’ll enjoy some coffee- my treat! Really! It’s the least I can do- and there’s a cafe next door!” she offered.

Coffee, not tea. Now you knew you truly were in America.

“Splendid- we will wait outside right for you,” Stella promised.

“My husband wishes to meet me in an hour. Do you not mind him?”

“Oh, not at all. I’d like to get in early- there are a few revisions I need to make before he reads it,” Edith said, looking down at the manuscript again.

“There’s no need for shame. Do whatever you need to do!” Stella replied with a smile.

Sif did not smile. Though she was quiet, observant of everything gonig on, but her eyes were soft.

“We’ll wait right here!” you assured.

Edith gave you another smile.

Something in the back of your mind was itching. A bell was ringing loud. You had rested your senses but here they suddenly grabbed you by full force. You stood still, your heart picking up against your ribs as you felt them overwhelm you.

But they didn’t go to the chatter or footsteps or the sunlight shining through.

You felt Edith….her hair feeling pinned to her face, her sweat of excitement beneath her nice dress, her determination to not appear like a frump yet also present of an intellect worthy of respect, equal to a man even…

She didn’t wear gloves. Her fingers were bare, but there was the mark of a tight ring she wore yesterday around her second finger on her right.

She was trying on jewelry that morning. And considered one ring she had. She had put it on. Then decided against it and discarded it away.

A silver ring. A silver ring with a black jewel.

Before you said a word, she slipped through the door and closed it shut. All of you sat on some chairs outside the hall. Your stomach had dropped and you were shaking.

Sif crossed her arms in a huff.

“I don’t see how any of this will get us any closer to the trove!” she complained.

You turned to her, feeling your blood turn cold.

“No, Sif…” you began.

“Why, YN! What’s the matter? There’s a look on your face- something is troubling you, what is it?” Stella asked.

You gestured for them to lean closer, your voice soft.

‘We haven’t actually dallied…we might as well have found the ring…” you replied.

“What do you mean?” asked Sif.

“Edith has it.”

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