eye beamed with glory. “You will not see me again until I have learned the secret of Fenrir’s fetters.”
“Tell the truth, Odin: You had a hand in putting him in those fetters.”
He shook his head. “It was Heimdall’s servant Skirnir who went to the dark elves of Svartalfheim for the fetters. He had gone to the dwarfs, but anything they made was broken. I will, however, admit that I did not dispute the Aesir’s actions. Having the strength of a Jotun, he struck me as a threat. But he has vowed, and now so have you. With such acts, I will place my trust in you and your son. By my hand, Fenrir will again walk free—brother.”
I grinned, disbelieving of how well we were getting along at that moment. “Well, brother, I will leave you to that. I am off to perform a far more difficult task: wrestling the God of Thunder into his wife’s dress.”
Thor was nowhere throughout Asgard. Knowing him, he could have been anywhere, so I decided that, in order to find him, I had to think like him. And in order to think like him, I had to drink like him. So I went down to Midgard, just in time to see Odin cross the rainbow bridge as proof of his quest. Balder’s usual alehouse wasn’t far away, and I thought it a likely place to find the Thunder God.
I felt happier than I had in a long time. Balder was free from the constant barrage of projectiles, giving me my favorite comrade back, and soon Fenrir would be free from his chains, giving me my son back. I would be whole again.
Thor was in the alehouse, sitting at a table across the room from Balder, glaring into the emptiness and downing one of the many pints of ale queued up for him. I pretended to ignore him as I went over and sat with Balder at our usual table. He wanted to pick up our discussion regarding the division of the light elves and dark elves, but in whispers, I told him I had a mission concerning Thor. Then, in a loud voice, I began to explain it to him.
“Your father wants me to help get Thor’s hammer back,” I began. “So I thought that we’d dress up Thor like Freya, Thrym will give him the hammer, and that’s that. But He-Whose-Ego-Knows-No-Bounds can’t do it. So how about you?”
“You want me to dress up like Freya?”
“Yes. And now I think of it, you would work a whole lot better than the blonde yeti over there.” That got his attention—Thor put down his drink and looked over to us. “You would pass for Freya better; with your clean-shaven face, you’re a lot prettier.”
Balder grinned. “Finally, my true life’s purpose is realized.”
“Besides, you can’t get hurt. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of, whereas Thor has to stand up against a monster ten times bigger than he is, and who has the Crusher. Yeah, I guess I can’t blame Thor for saying ‘no’. How can anyone expect him to go up against a moving mountain with a brain the size of a poppy seed? You’re clearly the better choice.”
Thor overturned his table and stormed across the room, laying down his fists on our table so hard, that the ale jumped out of our mugs and almost hit the ceiling before splashing down to the ground. He pointed his finger at me severely, gritting his teeth against words he couldn’t express. Then he calmed a little and scoffed. “You think you can fool me, huh, Loki? You think you can jerk me around whatever way you want, and I’ll just go along for the ride? Boy, you must think I’m real dumb to fall for any of your tricks, so well as I know you.”
“So you’ll do it?” I asked.
“Yes, I will,” he said, sitting down next to me and hailing for a pint. “I don’t want anyone killing that toothless, rattle-headed ogre but me.” Just then, he seemed to notice Balder for the very first time. “How’ve you been?”
“Good,” Balder replied.
Thor nodded,
“Tell the truth, Odin: You had a hand in putting him in those fetters.”
He shook his head. “It was Heimdall’s servant Skirnir who went to the dark elves of Svartalfheim for the fetters. He had gone to the dwarfs, but anything they made was broken. I will, however, admit that I did not dispute the Aesir’s actions. Having the strength of a Jotun, he struck me as a threat. But he has vowed, and now so have you. With such acts, I will place my trust in you and your son. By my hand, Fenrir will again walk free—brother.”
I grinned, disbelieving of how well we were getting along at that moment. “Well, brother, I will leave you to that. I am off to perform a far more difficult task: wrestling the God of Thunder into his wife’s dress.”
Thor was nowhere throughout Asgard. Knowing him, he could have been anywhere, so I decided that, in order to find him, I had to think like him. And in order to think like him, I had to drink like him. So I went down to Midgard, just in time to see Odin cross the rainbow bridge as proof of his quest. Balder’s usual alehouse wasn’t far away, and I thought it a likely place to find the Thunder God.
I felt happier than I had in a long time. Balder was free from the constant barrage of projectiles, giving me my favorite comrade back, and soon Fenrir would be free from his chains, giving me my son back. I would be whole again.
Thor was in the alehouse, sitting at a table across the room from Balder, glaring into the emptiness and downing one of the many pints of ale queued up for him. I pretended to ignore him as I went over and sat with Balder at our usual table. He wanted to pick up our discussion regarding the division of the light elves and dark elves, but in whispers, I told him I had a mission concerning Thor. Then, in a loud voice, I began to explain it to him.
“Your father wants me to help get Thor’s hammer back,” I began. “So I thought that we’d dress up Thor like Freya, Thrym will give him the hammer, and that’s that. But He-Whose-Ego-Knows-No-Bounds can’t do it. So how about you?”
“You want me to dress up like Freya?”
“Yes. And now I think of it, you would work a whole lot better than the blonde yeti over there.” That got his attention—Thor put down his drink and looked over to us. “You would pass for Freya better; with your clean-shaven face, you’re a lot prettier.”
Balder grinned. “Finally, my true life’s purpose is realized.”
“Besides, you can’t get hurt. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of, whereas Thor has to stand up against a monster ten times bigger than he is, and who has the Crusher. Yeah, I guess I can’t blame Thor for saying ‘no’. How can anyone expect him to go up against a moving mountain with a brain the size of a poppy seed? You’re clearly the better choice.”
Thor overturned his table and stormed across the room, laying down his fists on our table so hard, that the ale jumped out of our mugs and almost hit the ceiling before splashing down to the ground. He pointed his finger at me severely, gritting his teeth against words he couldn’t express. Then he calmed a little and scoffed. “You think you can fool me, huh, Loki? You think you can jerk me around whatever way you want, and I’ll just go along for the ride? Boy, you must think I’m real dumb to fall for any of your tricks, so well as I know you.”
“So you’ll do it?” I asked.
“Yes, I will,” he said, sitting down next to me and hailing for a pint. “I don’t want anyone killing that toothless, rattle-headed ogre but me.” Just then, he seemed to notice Balder for the very first time. “How’ve you been?”
“Good,” Balder replied.
Thor nodded,
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