Who: Loki, L.L. and NPC bad Asgardians narrative Where: New York City When: February 13-15th (backdated) What: Loki's picking up L.L.'s boyfriend, as agreed, and of course, trouble strikes. It means running to someone for help, but who? Rating: PG-13 for language
A private jet. Of course. How best to get around customs? Loki thought as he watched from the large viewing windows of the private airport as the plane set down.
Ikol watched from his shoulder as well. “Thor should be here,” the ghost of his older self noted.
“It is one Asgardian, and he dare not try anything. Besides, Ikol,” Loki noted as he turned from the window and walked outside to greet the disembarking Asgardian. “Meeting him alone like this will give me a better feel for his intentions.”
Valbjorn was a very fit young Asgardian with golden curls and a broad grin. Well, it was a wide pleasant smile when he chose to smile, that is. When he saw the much shorter Loki, he didn’t smile at all, merely shouldered his leather pack and strode from the jet toward the much smaller boy.
Well, it seemed Loki was going to have to be the polite one here. He didn’t feel like being polite, but he had promised L.L. to do his best to not ruin her day and he was a talented liar. So the greeting grin seemed quite genuine. “Valbjorn, pleasure to meet you once again. L.L. will meet you as soon as she is able. For now I will assure you reach the rooms you will be staying in and answer any questions you have.” There. Perfect little host, yes?
Valbjorn, who usually spoke very animated and curious with L.L., just gave Loki a hard stare, a short nod and waved his hand to indicate he should lead on.
“Right,” Loki noted. He wasn’t surprised at the lack of conversation and words. He led the way to the cab, opened the door so Valbjorn wouldn’t have to guess how to operate the handle, then went to the other side and instructed the driver of their destined address.
“So, looking forward to seeing New York City?” Loki tried as soon as the cab started forward.
Valbjorn gave a quiet sound of affirmation that didn’t prompt for further conversation, instead looking pointedly away from Loki and out the window.
“Right,” Loki repeated, falling into awkward silence and ignoring Ikol’s familiar chortling warble. It wasn’t like Val’s sullenness toward him was unusual. Nearly all Asgardians were ill-disposed toward Loki. To them, it had been his fault there had been a war during the Convergence which had landed their city far from their home plane. I’d be on the wrong foot no matter what, even though it wasn’t my fault for the past, but my past's.
Valbjorn seemed resolved to not speak at all. However, he pulled in some breaths after some time, as though for words that he stopped a few times before finally stating, “All these vehicles. I could run faster.”
“Here, yes, but not on the freeway we were on before. Also the streets can be difficult to navigate on foot. People have to stop for crossing just as cars do, and it’s advisable for you to not be jarred by the culture of the sub system just yet.”
“Sub system?”
“Subway system. Tunnels underground where trains roll swiftly with passengers to designated stops, unhindered by street and pedestrian traffic.”
“How… dwarvish.”
Loki laughed at that. “But innovative. The humans have advanced in ways that surely will astonish many Asgardians. Despite their short lives, they’re incredibly crafty and industrious.”
“Noted,” Valbjorn agreed. “What was the gibberish thou spoke of to the driver?”
“An address,” Loki said, explaining as concisely as he could the way streets and houses were numbered so humans could find their way to places they’ve never been to before.
“Thou knowest thy way around the city well enough by their use?”
“Mostly,” Loki agreed. “There is a great deal of city, however.”
Valbjorn looked at him for the first time since getting into the car. “So thou wilt be helping to guide?”
Loki shook his head, crossing his legs and folding his hands over his knee, falling into the politer archaic speech for Asgardians. “Afraid not. I am but taking thee to thy hotel. At that point L.L. will be thy hostess and guide.”
“Thou wilt not be staying near?”
Loki felt the question was strange somehow, but it was too little to define how just yet. Perhaps he had been wrong about the glowers cast his direction? Maybe L.L. had spoken to Val about rudeness toward Loki? “No. Does thou wish me to be? I was under the impression that-.”
“I do not wish it,” Valbjorn said firmly, drawing back as though Loki had turned into a rearing snake.
Loki waited for him to continue, but when he followed up with nothing but a hard, ungiving look, Loki shrugged his small shoulders. “I thought as much. Rest assured you and your ladyfriend will be left undisturbed by me. You shall not see me further during your stay after you reach your rooms.”
“Well… Good,” Valbjorn said finally, though seeming awkward and doubtful despite his resolute tone.
Loki looked straight ahead at the back of the driver’s seat, eyes heavily lidded. “But rest assured, Valbjorn son of Dugald, if you hurt her, Loki promises three times the harm in kind.”
The Asgardian looked to the much smaller boy with surprise, noting the folded hands and the cold emerald of the steady gaze. The rest of their trip was in silence, and Loki said nothing to him, speaking only to the cab driver and hotel staff until they reached the hotel room. It was lavish. Of course L.L. would spare no expense on her esteemed guest. Loki set the keycard down, explaining how it worked and how the door automatically locked should Valbjorn leave the room, his smile and words aloof and polite.
“She should be arriving in three hours. This is where I leave you, Dugald-son.” Loki opened the door.
“Loki,” Valbjorn addressed. “Thou cares about her a great deal?”
Loki looked over his shoulder. “She’s my friend,” he stated, then closed the door and walked away, steps much stormier than he would have liked.
~~~Fifteenth~~~
Loki, true to his word, had stayed away and let L.L. and Valjborn enjoy their time in New York City. Instead he had satisfied himself with a voracious amount of reading, devouring Neil Gaiman’s works with unapologetic fervor. It helped to keep his busy mind occupied and not thinking about how L.L.’s entertaining was going. He would hear about such things later, no doubt.
Of course, he didn’t expect her to call right at the time Valbjorn was supposed to leave for Asgard in the private jet. He looked up from his messy bed, littered with books, magazines and random notebooks with scrawls. One sock was on, one sock lost in the bedding, the rest of him in boxers and a long sleeved t-shirt whose sleeves went well past his small hands. Pushing his book to one side, he slithered over and stretched clumsily for the phone, finally swiping his sleeved thumb over the screen and putting it to his ear.
“Good afternoon! So, give me details. I want to hear all about-.”
“Shut up and listen well.”
Loki did shut up, freezing on the bed. It was L.L.’s phone, easily identified by the caller I.D. It certainly wasn’t her voice. It wasn’t even Val’s. It was a gruff, unpleasant man’s voice. Ikol flapped to his shoulder, the bird cocking his head nearer in curiosity when the voice continued.
“We would have what is due us, Loki Laufeyson. Payment for our work in sewing thy discord is long delayed.”
“Payment?” Loki narrowed his eyes, looking to Ikol and mouthing the question.
Ikol hopped to the bedpost neatly. “If I am not mistaken, that is the sound of Dugald, father of Valbjorn, one of thy past Asgardian spies.”
Loki would have liked to berate the bird, feeling a spike of fury in his chest. All this time L.L. had been close to one of his old self’s less-savory acquaintances’ sons and Ikol had said nothing? But as it was he was having to listen to both Ikol and Dugald, and that took his concentration enough.
“Do not act a fool with us,” the voice of Dugald continued. “Thou may trick Thor and the rest into believing thee a child reborn. It is but a ruse. Thou wouldst cheat us of our dues with this deceit as well. Nay, Lie-Smith. We have worked hard for what was promised and deserve our grant. Thou wilt not refuse us.”
Loki felt his brow pinching, his eyes feeling hot. “I think you’re mistaken, especially concerning my refusing you, seeing as, oh dear.” His voice became light and aloof. “I can’t seem to recall what deeds were done. If I do not recall, however should I be sure you deserve payment?” Show your hand, villain. I call your bluff. Now set it on the table.
“Well, in that case, I may have something that will work thy memory. Men?”
L.L.'s angry growl was easily heard even over the rough voice demanding she speak. "Fuck you, you assholes!" Her voice wobbled from her tearful rage. "You're going to wish you were never born when I'm done with you! Especially you! I'll rip your fa--" Her words turned into indistinguishable grunts as a muzzle was placed over her mouth.
Goat fucking bastards. Loki was sitting up on the bed now, mouth a thin line. That was your hand after all. Focus. Think. L.L. will lose all if I do not.
Dugald was back on the line now. “Now, I trust thou recalls our past more clearly? I was assured thou thought quite fondly of this little mortal. She ‘as a pretty neck. Thin and fragile, though.”
Loki bit down on his worried, angry tone, his want to protest that they mustn’t harm a hair of her head. Instead he forced himself to give a short, indignant sniff, his voice a lower drawl. “Well, currently she is of a bit more value than you, Dugald.” If I try to convince them I am a memoryless child, she may very well be snapped in half. They can get nothing from a child and will cut their losses and flee. Not something I can risk. Let them think they’ve forced my hand as well. Now what would Old Me say? “Thou knowest I can be quite furious when others put their grimy paws on things they ought not, especially things I am currently toying with. Tell me, how dost thou expect to escape my certain ire?”
“Ah, now thou sees reason. Good. We can come to the bargaining table man to man. Or woman if thou prefers. We quite liked thy curvier shape.” There was an unpleasant chortle overheard. “Thou owes us gold, Laufeyson.”
“Don’t be such a pig. Thou wilt hurt my ladylike sensibilities,” Loki replied as loftily as his child-like voice could, surprising himself with how well he managed. “Gold. How trite. Boring. Thou must know my coffers are not so quickly accessible, not without going to Asgard.”
“There will be no going to Asgard,” Dugald snapped. “Nor wilt thou be calling thy brother or thy fooled guardians. All three are being watched. Should they make a move toward us, thy little toy can be drawn and quartered between the three of us.” Loki closed his eyes, teeth clenching together. “Aye, we know thou would rather call someone to do thy dirty work and dispense of us. Thou forgets we’ve done such for thee before. We know how this goes. Now, things have changed. Now it’s a whole new world where mercenaries like us can carve a new life with plenty of gold to do as we please. That is what we are owed. Thou art a clever creature. Thou wilt figure out how to get us our gold... or else.”
“It seems I did not give thy intelligence enough credit beforehand, Dugald, though I correctly measured how little thy loyalty to Asgard was worth. However, it doesn’t change that gold is cumbersome and will not serve thee well when thou abandons thy country for Midgard’s petty wonders.”
A new voice broke into the background, younger and smoother than the rest. “She has money as well. I’ve been watching how Midgard currency exchanges. He has every means to secure us what he needs, even if it’s by her.”
“Is that Valbjorn?” Loki tried to keep his voice curious rather than furious. “What a terrible renegade he is. But he is correct. Gold I may not be able to secure, not without us going beneath Heimdall’s nose, and I’m sure we would rather not. But Midgard currency I can provide in abundance. With interest, I daresay.”
There was silence on the other side of the phone. Loki waited, feeling a droplet of sweat sliding down his temple.
“It will suffice,” Dugald finally said. Loki closed his eyes, hiding the sound of his released breath. Dugald was telling him amounts. The amounts didn’t matter, though. Then Loki was told he had two hours to meet them North of the private airport.
“I need three hours,” Loki said sternly. “Banks are fickle things.”
“...Fine. Come alone, Laufeyson, or-.”
“Yes, yes, or thou snaps my toy’s neck. Old news, Dugald. Thou art placing a great deal of stock in her value to me. Thou had best hope thou art correct in that I like her in one piece and pray that is enough for me to not mind thy ballsy behavior.”
Dugald laughed and started to say something else, but Loki clicked his thumb on the hang up button. A quiet second and the boy set his elbows to his knees, hands over his face.
Ikol watched him with interest. “Impressive,” the magpie said. “If thou wert not now shaking like a leaf.”
“Oh, Ikol… Give me a moment to think.”
“It is simple, isn’t it? Thou gets the funds and send them on their way?”
Loki looked up angrily. “The banks are closed today, Ikol!” He immediately jumped off the bed and started to hurriedly dress.
“That does create a complication.” The magpie watched him. “There must be two others here in the city, along with the three at the airport.”
“Already realized. Vision and Wanda are currently out for the day with Eira. Dr. Blake is at his clinic. They either have Midgardians hired or Asgardians who can contact them swiftly, probably by phone. If they start to behave suspiciously, L.L. will have to learn swiftly how to breathe out the middle of her windpipe, and I will not be having my friend learning that trick if I can help it.”
“So thou wilt be bluffing them? Hoping they accept a fake cash card?”
“That, and I am getting help.”
“Help? From whom? Loki is a liar, and all know this. There will be none to believe thee. Thy only possible allies are being watched or held for ransom. No one else who might help will reach her in time, especially not in how long it will take to contact them and convince them thou art being truthful. Perhaps thou shouldst just accept the girl is lo-.”
“Not from friends.” Loki pulled his backpack over his shoulders. “Enemies.” He ran from the room. “And I’m in a hurry.”