Marvel, page 28
“Whoa! Okay! Whoa!” She laughed, overcome, a little dizzy as he put her down.
“Ah! But my task! Shall I still venture forth?” Volstagg asked, leaning over to peer at her from his height. He reminded her of a redheaded Santa Claus as he stood there beaming with his hands resting on his belly.
“Please,” she said. “It’s still very urgent.”
Volstagg brightened, rosy cheeks aflame. “Then I depart with all haste!”
“Volstagg, brother, companion, wait—” Fandral took him by the elbow, swinging him around. “Where are you going?”
Waving him off and easily taking his arm back, Volstagg’s voice thundered down the hall as he disappeared. “There is no time to explain it to you, Fandral, you will only slow me down. Attend Jane Foster while I see to her mission. Wipe her tears of joy and sing her a song of old to soothe her spirit until the princess is brought before her and the merriment of feasting begins.”
Jane didn’t know if she was quite ready for merriment or feasting. She had to see Quinn, hold her, make sure that Heimdall was telling the truth. The buzzing panic in her head wouldn’t fully vanish until she had her kid back in her arms and a guarantee that she would finish out grade school where she belonged, on Earth; she had every reason to believe Odin would try to keep Quinn there in Asgard. No. He had to be stopped. She wouldn’t give up their life on Earth. There was the career she had worked her entire life to build, and their home, still packed with all the bittersweet reminders of their existence before Thor’s death, and Quinn’s school, and her friends….No, they wouldn’t be relocating to Asgard anytime soon.
At least not until The College Conversation.
Fandral was watching her, considerately curious. They had all been doing that since she arrived, Thor’s friends, observing her with faraway smiles, as if she were an exotic butterfly in a terrarium. It was understandable, she supposed, given her proximity and importance to their lost prince. He offered his arm. “Are you not pleased, Jane Foster?”
She took his arm, and they began to walk, going first down a spiral staircase away from Thor’s chamber. As they left, she glanced back, trying to commit it all to memory. A few royal handmaidens gathered in a silk cluster on the landing, whispering excitedly to one another. They, too, glanced furtively at Jane.
“Yes,” she said absently to Fandral. “Of course I’m pleased. It just…It won’t sink in until I see my daughter.”
And there was an asterisk there. She had a feeling her fight had only just begun.
Queen Frigga waited for them at the bottom of the spiral stairs. For the first time in their short acquaintance, the queen appeared genuinely pleased. She wore a simple draped white gown, sleeveless, delicate strings of gold and red beads dripping down from the neck, an ivory sash tied loosely around her waist. Radiant, she opened her hands to them as they approached.
“Come, all of Asgard gathers to receive your daughter, to welcome her home.”
Jane’s eye twitched. This isn’t her home. She kept her mouth shut, a fluttering panic quivering in her chest. If these people—gods—decided Quinn belonged to them, what could she do to intervene? The queen took her other arm, and together they traveled through the palace, back down to the wide main corridor and the tall, ornate doors leading out onto the gates and steps. Frigga’s reception hadn’t been warm exactly, but neither would she call it chilly; while Thor’s friends peered at Jane with almost childlike wonder, the queen kept her distance. Here was Jane, the secret daughter-in-law, a part of Thor’s life he had chosen to keep hidden. Jane tried to imagine what she would do in Frigga’s place; what if she lost her adult child only to discover they had been married and building a family without her knowing?
“Do you, um, get to Midgard very often?” Jane asked clumsily.
“I do not,” said the queen. “In fact, I have never been.”
“New Mexico is hot, if you like that sort of thing. B-but it’s a dry heat…” Jane trailed off. She didn’t suppose the Tex-Mex would entice an ancient goddess. “Right. I’ll shut up now.”
The queen carefully patted the top of Jane’s hand. “My son’s fondness for the place is all the recommendation I require. Hm.” Frigga made a funny little sound. “A dry heat. Interesting.”
Jane looked down, smiling; maybe this wasn’t so hopeless after all.
Almost nothing had changed since Jane had last been on the steps before the palace. The legions of soldiers, gathered for war, remained. She knew the gods were different, but she couldn’t believe they had stayed there all night, stiff and armored and upright. Odin paced back and forth at the bottom of the stairs, his staff pinging the stone ground with each furious stride. The queen was trying to get his attention, wearing a strange “I told you so” sort of look. There was a narrow open lane between the two halves of Asgard’s forces. She noticed women in armor similar to Rūna’s at the front, a line of spearmen behind them, and then hundreds of identically dressed and cloaked warriors making up the bulk of the infantry.
Beyond stretched the glittering rainbow surface of the bridge that ran between the mainland and the tower where Heimdall kept his watch. Beneath that very dome a light flashed, igniting the Rainbow Bridge, making it scintillate and burn for a heart-stopping instant. It was a beautiful sight, made better by the white winged horse that raced up the bridge carrying Rūna and her daughter.
Jane didn’t know what the protocol was here, and she didn’t care. She broke away from Fandral and the queen to storm down the stairs and fly past Odin, sprinting on wobbly, exhausted legs down the aisle splitting the army. She heard the king grumble his annoyance as she went.
Alive, alive, alive. Quinn was alive.
“Mommy!”
30
JANE BREATHED. HER DAUGHTER was rumpled, her clothes a little torn, but otherwise perfect. Rūna slowed the horse, letting Jane approach and help her daughter slide out of the saddle behind her. Jane squeezed her, kissed her hair, felt the precious beat of her heart as they hugged and hugged, Quinn laughing, Jane on her knees. A shadow fell over them, and when she opened her eyes, Loki was standing a few feet away, transformed into a taller, broader version than the one she had met before. Mjolnir dangled from his hand, bruises on his face and neck healing and fading beneath the battered green-and-silver armor that harked subtly to Thor’s.
Loki, with Mjolnir, proved worthy.
“Hello,” he said, smirking. “I’d be offended by the shock in your eyes but I’m still getting used to the idea myself.”
Jane managed a dry laugh and stood but held tight to her daughter’s hand. “You look different.”
“Good different?” He lifted a brow.
“Yeah,” she said. “Thank you for bringing her back to me in one piece.”
Loki joined her, looking fondly down at Quinn. They began to walk, slowly. “She was the brave one, I hardly had to do anything.”
“Those bruises say otherwise,” said Jane. “And Stark?”
“Alive, only just,” he replied. A shadow flickered across his face. “Asgard has revealed itself to your people. It will be a long road precariously traveled to find peace.”
“I’ll help!” Quinn piped up. “Mommy, did you see me on Mr. Horse? It was so cool!” She detached from Jane, running to Rūna’s side and hugging the Valkyrie’s leg. “We were warrior princesses together and I only barfed once!”
“Skæva, child, his name is Skæva,” Rūna corrected mildly. Then, quieter, “And I recall you vomited thrice.”
They reached the army, who cheered boisterously, spears, swords, and shields clanging. Jane noticed Loki dragging his feet as they drew closer to the palace.
“Hey, I’m not looking forward to it, either,” she murmured. Where was Volstagg? How long did traveling the Bifrost even take? “Your parents are terrifying.” Loki’s lip curled in recognition, but he said nothing. He didn’t need to; she read his trepidation plainly. She had no idea if he could be trusted, but there was no denying the sledgehammer in his hand; Thor had made it abundantly clear to her that Mjolnir would never relinquish herself to someone unworthy. Odin loomed; Jane’s panic redoubled. “Help.” The word tumbled out awkwardly. “I, um, I think I need your help. They can’t take Quinn from me, please, I can’t…I can’t let that happen, but they’re gods and I’m just…well, me. I can’t lose her. Not after…I can’t lose her.”
“You’re in luck, Jane Foster,” Loki replied, amused but perhaps also a bit aloof. “You stand beside their hated, exiled son and a disgraced Valkyrie who defied her king. If anyone might join you in misguided rebellion, ’tis us.”
And so, they came to stand before the king and queen, who could not wear more different expressions. Frigga clasped her hands together and lifted her skirts with one hand to sweep down the stairs. The cheering died down as she approached to speak. She went first to Loki, gasping at the sight of Mjolnir in his grasp. She held him at arm’s length, and Jane saw him flinch.
“Oh, my son. You are resplendent.” She may as well have been embracing a statue.
Rūna waited solemnly a few paces behind Loki, her hand resting on the horse’s neck, while Quinn hid behind Jane’s left leg. The bridge, the palace, the assemblage of gods—it was a lot for a nine-year-old to take in. Odin crouched, leaning against his spear, his one eye trained decidedly on Quinn. He extended a gnarled hand to her.
“Here now, child, do not be afraid. I may be the king of Asgard, but I am also your grandfather. We have not gone to battle, and my warlike mind is somewhat eased, for the queen has spoken wisdom, and tempered the king, as queens often do.” It was the first time Jane had seen his face brighten, and admittedly, there was something kind and sweet about him, about his earnest interest in meeting his granddaughter.
Quinn wouldn’t budge. She stared up at Jane, tugging nervously on her lower lip, and Jane touched her shoulder, nodding. “It’s all right. Go say hi if you want to.”
Putting on her Very Brave Face, Quinn raised her chin and squared her shoulders and strode out to meet Odin All-Father. She made a fist and lightly struck Odin on the top of his head with it.
“Boppies.” She grinned.
Odin, flustered, sought guidance from Frigga, then Loki, then Jane, but Quinn was the one to educate him. “It’s like how we say hello, goodbye, and ‘I love you’ in our family. See?” She did it again. “It’s a bop with a tiny love hammer.”
“I…see.” Odin’s eye filled with tears. “Long have I wished to know you, though you were hidden from my sight. You resemble our fine prince in all the most heartening ways. Tell me, Quinn Thorsdóttir, can you wield the hammer Mjolnir?”
Jane tried not to roll her eyes. She was slightly gratified to see that Loki outright did. He extricated himself from Frigga and came to stand at Quinn’s side protectively. Jane’s eyes burned into his. Help us.
“Sure,” the child said with a shrug. “It’s easy.”
“Yet Loki…” Odin’s gaze fell on his son with obvious trepidation and suspicion.
“He’s borrowing it, I guess. We haven’t worked out a thing yet, maybe it’s like a…Hey, Mom?” Quinn looked over her shoulder, mouth scrunched with confusion. “What’s that thing you’re doing with the condo? A time thingy?”
Jane hid her face in one hand and laughed. That wasn’t what they were doing with the condo, but she indulged Quinn anyway. “A timeshare.”
“Yeah!” Quinn snapped her fingers. “Maybe it’s like a timeshare. But when I do it, I’m the God of Thunder, and when he does it, he’s the God of Outcasts. It’s complicated.”
Odin pushed against his spear, grasping it with both hands and standing. “God of Outcasts,” he repeated gruffly. For a long moment he was quiet. “My heart rejects what my eye perceives—here stands Loki, my disobedient son, murder-minded and unworthy, yet wielding our most sacred and irreproachable symbol of worthiness. How did this come to be?”
Loki held up the hammer and spun it, letting the light catch on its edges. A murmur rose among the army and citizens standing as audience. With his other hand, he gestured to Quinn. “This child showed me kindness without hesitation, seeing only a man in confusion and pain. The Midgardian Donna Gorzynski offered me shelter, friendship, and yet after I betrayed her trust, she did not withdraw her love.”
Odin glared. “Of course you betrayed her.”
Jane couldn’t believe it, but Loki refused the bait. He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued: “Thor’s absence is a crater in all of our lives. There was a void, and I filled it. With these people, with their acceptance, with things I thought myself not just denied but forbidden. Stark’s machine was drawing power from Mjolnir, and it threatened to destroy the hammer and us. I couldn’t allow it.” Loki opened his eyes, staring at the empty hand dangling by his side. He raised that hand, still considering it. “I held a shattering Mjolnir not with a traitor’s hands, but with the tenderness I was newly taught.”
“You have deceived us so often, and each time your honeyed promises were tipped with poison. How can I believe it? How to believe…”
“There’s time,” said Loki. “I’ll wait.”
“Time? No. With haste we must see to the future of the realm. For now, I must trust in the hammer’s judgment, and I acknowledge it, much as it pains me. Still, still. After all you have done, after all you have destroyed, one hour of goodness does not change my desire to wrest that hammer from your grasp, boy.”
“But you can’t,” Loki replied. “There’s only one soul I would relinquish it to, and it isn’t you.”
“Let there be no enmity between us,” Frigga said, hurrying to wedge herself between them. “We should be happy,” she added, then she seemed to reconsider those words, or better understand them. “We should be happy.”
Odin snorted and puffed out his chest. “I will be happy when the hammer lies with its rightful owner. You stain its meaning and its memory. Mjolnir belongs with Thor’s child, and she belongs here, where she can be brought up in the light of his legacy.”
“You clearly haven’t met the girl,” Loki replied, chuckling. “I don’t think you’ll be making any decisions for her.”
“She is a child, she is not meant to be making decisions,” said Odin.
“Husband.” Frigga grabbed his wrist forcefully. “Is there to be no end to this hatred? Must we tread this circle forevermore? There is compromise in everything. Peace, now, peace. Let her come to the choice willingly. You seemed willing to listen in the garden, try listening again now.”
Loki shook his head. “I think we are at the mercy of his pride, Mother, until certain questions are answered. For example, what of my exile? And what of Rūna’s supposed treachery? I will not smile and play the hero and dance merrily for you until he accepts Mjolnir’s choice—truly accepts it. For I was not the one who enacted Thor’s demise. We defeated Stark. We protected Asgard.”
A snap of lightning crisped the air. Odin’s knuckles tightened around his spear. Jane was beginning to regret asking for Loki’s help. But another flash lit up the cosmos blanketing the horizon, the Bifrost illuminating them all, brightening each face with a sparkling purple light before fading, revealing two figures emerging from the dome on the other side of the bridge.
“What now?” Odin thundered, slamming down his spear. “Is there to be no end to these infernal interruptions?”
Jane turned to find that Volstagg had returned, a dark-haired woman at his side. She was dressed in a ragged purple crop top, workout leggings, and sneakers, her long black hair swept up in a messy top bun. Under one arm she carried a briefcase. It had been a while since they had spent time together in person, and Jane had almost forgotten what a total knockout Jennifer Walters was, even barefaced in gym sweats.
“Who is this?” Odin growled, stalking to the edge of the crowd.
“My lawyer,” Jane declared, relieved. Volstagg had come through. He gazed in wonder at Jen as if he had unearthed hidden treasure while searching for her in Los Angeles. As soon as Jen clapped eyes on Jane, she broke into a run, pulling her old friend into a bone-crushing hug.
“God, your life is wild, Jane,” Jen breathed into her ear. “The Thor thing was absolutely so much already, but what am I even looking at here? Or, like, beholding. I feel like you can only Behold things in a place like this. Am I in outer space? Am I technically an astronaut now? Can I put that on my LinkedIn?” She broke the hug and waved around at the hundreds upon hundreds of perplexed onlookers. “Heeeey, everyone, Jen Walters, pleased to know ya. Oh! Wow, am I underdressed. Please pardon that, Your Majesties,” said Jen, laughing nervously. “I was just putting in the reps at Planet Fitness, did not think I would also be on Planet Viking today. Here, Jane, I brought the thing…”
Jen balanced the briefcase on her knee and undid the clips, then fished out the scroll with Thor’s will and, with reverence, offered it to Jane. “As your lawyer, I’m gonna advise that you say as little as possible. I don’t know how courts work here but I’m kind of not jazzed to find out.”
“It’s fine,” said Jane, touching Jen on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming. Sorry it’s—well, sorry.”
“No, no, no apologies necessary, this is way better than hip thrusting to Britney Spears. Do you all know about her up here, by the way? If not, that could be a huge cultural breakthrough.” Jen coughed, gave an extravagant bow, and backed away. Volstagg was there, and keen to stand directly beside her, tall and at attention, evidently proud that he had gotten her there in time to save the day.
“This is Thor’s will,” said Jane, producing it for Odin and Frigga to study. They did so, clustering together.
“And it demonstrates my son’s foresight,” Odin said, grinning, sighing with relief. “Mjolnir passes to his heir, and as befits a princess of Asgard, her place shall be here, where she will be trained to be Asgard’s protector.” His eyes strayed with haughty venom to Loki.
