Bauldr's Tears

by Alydia Rackham

  His mouth lingered deliberately on her lower lip, then finally broke from it. But he stayed just an inch away, just a breath away…and grinned.

  Marina stared, paralyzed.

  He was tall—taller than Bird. Lean as a blade, with good-looking, pale, angular features—eloquent dark eyebrows, a perfect nose and an expressive mouth. A mouth that now bore a satisfied smirk. Curly, blazing-red hair crowned his head, and he wore forest green, lavishly embroidered with blue.

  Out of the corner of her vision, Marina glimpsed Bird standing behind him. But somehow, she couldn’t tear her attention from the brilliant eyes of the man who still held tight to her.

  “She’s a thin, young little thing, isn’t she? Rather like a baby bird,” the stranger remarked, his voice lilting, deliberate and musical—with an undertone that set Marina’s heart thudding. The stranger reached down and lifted Marina’s right arm, running his hand underneath the bare length of it until it lifted and stretched out to the side. He watched his own progress, his brow furrowing slightly, as his fingers met hers. He found her hand, guiding it with his fingertips, and almost interlaced their fingers—then turned her wrist so her palm rested down upon his.

  “Fragile,” he mused. “Breakable. And…crooked.”

  His gaze trailed back up, and he considered her face.

  Then, he glanced down. And caught sight of her left hand curled uselessly against her chest.

  His attention sharpened. His eyebrows drew together. And his eyes themselves flooded with a penetrating aqua. At the same instant, a deep brown started at the roots of his hair and rippled through the rest of his locks.

  “Hm,” he said—and touched the back of her hand with his fingers.

  Marina leaped backward, wrenching herself out of his arms, tears scalding her eyes. He let her go. Her cheeks flared with heat, and she turned her right shoulder toward him, shielding her entire left side.

  For just an instant, his gaze flashed, that aqua brightening to a blue…

  And then he kicked his head back.

  The emerald in his eyes washed back through. His hair seemed to catch fire, so quickly did it return to red. He glanced to his right, where Bird had stepped up. Bird folded his arms and sighed. The stranger mimicked him.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” Bird said.

  “I was very nice,” the stranger sneered, flashed his eyebrows at Marina, then attended to Bird. “What is she doing here, anyway?”

  “Do you even know who she is?” Bird wanted to know.

  “Come to think of it, we haven’t been introduced,” the stranger said lightly, and faced her. “Formally.”

  Marina almost bared her teeth at him.

  “Marina Feroe, may I present Loki, son of Farbauti,” Bird gestured. “Loki, this is Marina—my friend from Midgard.”

  “Ah, your friend from Midgard,” Loki repeated, grinning again. “Well, isn’t this interesting. Where is Nanna, by the way?”

  Bird’s cheeks colored.

  Marina’s glance flitted back and forth between the two men. The floor felt like it was tipping again…

  Nanna.

  She knew that name.

  “Come on, Marina,” Bird threw a glare at Loki as he walked past him and up to her. Bird touched her shoulder and turned her, urging her to walk with him.

  “What, you’re going to eat without me?” Loki called.

  “Well, come on, then!” Bird shouted back as he and Marina started down the stairs. She risked a glance over her shoulder at Loki—

  He caught her eye and gave her a wicked grin. Quickly, she faced front again, and vowed to ignore him for the rest of the night.

  “So tell me, little one,” Thor slammed his stein down, wiped his hand across his mouth, and propped his forearms on the edge of the table. “What are you?”

  Marina hesitated. Thor sat at the head of the very long table. To his left on a bench sat Bird—and Marina sat to his left. And right across from Bird, in a tall chair…

  Sat Loki. Awash in colorful candlelight.

  She would not look at him.

  In front of all of them sprawled plates and trays of delicious food and drink—berries, apples, potatoes, turkey, pheasant, rabbit, chicken, venison, goat, grapes, breads, nuts, wine and mead—a lot of which had now been devoured. Marina had eaten all of the turkey, potatoes, apples and toast on her plate, but it had not been a challenge, because she had forgotten to eat the whole day before. Now her stomach was full, she felt stronger, and a little steadier. With Bird right next to her, she dared to lift her face to Thor—but his aspect had softened even further since the last time she had studied him, and the flamelight from the candles warmed his eyes and his encouraging smile. She reached out and dipped her right hand into a fingerbowl, attempting to keep her fingers from shaking.

  “Can I ask…what you mean?”

  “What are you?” Thor said again, and cleared his throat. “A seamstress, a cook, a field worker, a gardener—a wife?”

  Loki sat back in his chair and snorted. Marina tried not to notice, and wiped her hand on a napkin.

  “I’m an archaeologist.”

  Thor considered.

  “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that word. It has been a very long time since I walked any streets in Midgard.”

  “She studies ancient cities, ancient people,” Bird said. “She finds what they left behind—their houses, their art, their writings, their bones. And from that she tries to piece together what their lives would have been like.”

  “Are there enough places like that to keep you occupied?” Thor frowned, taking another swig of mead.

  “Midgard is littered with fallen kingdoms, remember?” Loki reminded him, lifting a careless eyebrow and crossing his arms. “I’m surprised everyone doesn’t trip over all the graves and cracked monuments of dead kings.”

  “And what is so interesting about these…dead kingdoms?” Thor wondered, eating a grape.

  Bird didn’t answer for her, so Marina shrugged one shoulder.

  “They…tell us about our past. About discoveries those people made, and how we became what we are now.”

  “They have such tiny memories, you see,” Loki said as an aside to Thor.

  “Not everyone has the privilege of living forever,” she murmured, looking straight at him.

  Loki blinked. For an instant, she thought the green in his eyes faded toward blue, and his hair darkened.

  “She doesn’t study all of them, though,” Bird told them. “She’s an expert on our old friends in the north.”

  “You are?” Thor sat up.

  “Marina’s brilliant,” Bird spoke up. “Knows everything about us. Or—what the Midgardians think they know about us, after all this time.”

  “Really?” Loki sparked, and sat toward Marina, his chair creaking. “What they think they know, eh? What do they think they know?”

  Her face got hot.

  “For one,” she shot back. “They know you’re a usurping trouble-maker that causes more damage than he’s worth.”

  Loki laughed out loud and slapped the tabletop with a bang. Every single flame in the room leaped at the sound, as if suddenly delighted. Thor broke out into chuckles that rolled like a great stone through the hall.

  “And how did they find that out?” Loki crowed. “I was trying so very hard to keep it a secret!”

  “No idea,” Thor shook his maned head. “Nosing about in your business.”

  “So rude,” Loki decided.

  “Indeed,” Thor agreed. “So, what else, little one? What else do people think they know?”

  “I’m…” Marina stopped.

  “Go ahead,” Bird urged. “You know the stories better than I do.”

  “I…It’s mostly family things,” Marina admitted. “Like…Stories about Odin and his…He has several sons, doesn’t he? Bauldr by Frigga, Thor by Fjorgyn—”

  “Hold—Fjorgyn?” Thor raised a hand.

  “I…She is in charge of the earth…” Mari
na frowned. “Isn’t she your mother?”

  Loki choked, turned away and put a hand across his smirking mouth.

  “She…is the groundskeeper…” Thor said slowly, baffled. Loki gagged on his laughter now, and almost turned all the way around in his chair.

  “She is shaped a little bit like a potato,” Bird whispered in her ear. Marina balked.

  “Ugh, look at that!” Thor exclaimed, holding up his stein, shutting one eye and staring down into it. “Empty!” He slammed it down. “Traust! Traust, have you fallen asleep?”

  “Who is Traust?” Marina whispered to Bird.

  “He’s sort of…the housekeeper?” Bird replied. “I can’t think of a better word for him.”

  “Traust!” Thor bellowed.

  Marina cast around the room, but no one came running.

  “Where is he?” she wondered.

  But next moment, Marina watched, stunned, as Thor’s stein filled itself up from bottom to top, and the froth overflowed and spilled down the sides.

  “Haha, thank you, my friend!” Thor lifted the stein and hefted it toward the ceiling, then took a large gulp. “Tell me, girl,” Thor said, after setting down his drink. He scooted forward. “Who else do you think is…Well, all right, who have they told you is married to whom? Of us at the table, here?”

  “You…” Marina started, trying to pull her attention away from his foaming drink. “You are married to Sif.”

  “Yes,” Thor nodded.

  “And you…” Marina lowered her voice. “You have a mistress, a giantess named Jarnaxa—”

  “No,” Thor cut in, wide-eyed.

  “No?” Marina murmured.

  Bird covered his mouth. Loki writhed with the effort of keeping silent.

  “Can you imagine?” Thor looked sideways at Bird.

  “No,” Bird said solemnly. “Sif would cut your head off. Off.”

  Thor nodded slowly. Loki’s laughter finally got the best of him, and he gasped and chortled, wiping at his eyes.

  “What about Loki?” Thor wanted to know, jerking a thumb at him.

  “In our books, Loki is married to an Aesir named Sigyn,” she told him, unable to keep from glancing sideways at Loki.

  “Wait—Sigyn?” Loki gasped, trying to sit up straight, but failing. “Sigyn? That…That old hag in charge of…What is she in charge of?” he turned his watery eyes to Thor. Thor grinned.

  “The royal chickens.”

  “The chickens! ” Loki repeated, nearly asphyxiating.

  “Haha, perhaps you went to a matchmaker,” Thor suggested, shoving Loki’s shoulder.

  “No, impossible. I wouldn’t pay her!”

  Thor truly laughed now—it rattled the platters.

  “Loki also gave birth to a horse,” Marina stated pointedly.

  “A…A what?” Loki’s smile faltered as he blinked away tears.

  “What?” Thor repeated. Marina looked to Bird, but he just waited, quietly amused. So she nodded.

  “A horse. With eight legs.”

  “I…ahem…” Loki cleared his throat, his amusement vanishing. “Who…How would I give birth to a…” Loki trailed off, and he stared uncomfortably at her. Bird snorted loudly.

  “Bahaha!” Thor slapped Loki’s shoulder so hard he almost knocked him over. “You win!”

  “Win what?” Loki scowled, his eyes flaring purple.

  “Most humiliating Midgardian story,” Thor told him.

  Marina glanced down at her lap—but then Bird bumped her shoulder with his and smiled crookedly.

  “What?” Thor cried again.

  “There might just be one about you,” Bird admitted.

  “Bahaha yourself,” Loki shoved Thor back.

  “What—no, no, you must tell me,” Thor insisted, picking up his plate and setting it aside. “It cannot be as bad as a horse.”

  “It might be,” Loki said loftily. “You don’t know what it is yet.”

  “Tell me, this instant,” Thor commanded.

  “Don’t keep them in suspense, Marina,” Bird warned. “They’re likely to kill each other over who has the worst story.”

  “I already won,” Loki countered, the full blaze of his green and red returning.

  Marina glanced at Bird again. He nodded to her.

  “Go ahead.”

  She gathered herself, gripping her hands together under the table.

  “Well—”

  “Wait!” Thor held up both hands. “If she’s to tell a story…” He lifted his voice and bellowed to the other end of the hall. “Bring me a stool! Set it beside me! The little thing is going to tell me a story!”

  Marina’s face burned and her heart thudded against her breastbone. All of the Aesir started muttering, and Marina felt them turn and look at her. A servant immediately hurried down the aisle toward them, his feet pattering, hauling a wooden stool.

  “As you please, Your Highness,” the young man panted, setting it down to Thor’s left with a clack.

  “Come here,” Thor beckoned to Marina. “Come sit here, so we can see you.”

  Marina froze, but then Bird got up and offered her his hand. She winced, took it, and stood. She climbed over the bench, and then he easily picked her up and set her on the stool. Now her head was higher than Thor’s, and everyone at the whole table could easily see her if they wanted to. She felt the heat drain out of her face.

  “Speak,” Thor bade her, taking another swig of mead. “Tell us this horrible tale of yours.”

  “Yes, please do,” Loki said snidely.

  Marina tucked her left hand against herself, a quiver running down through her whole body as Loki’s eyes narrowed. She cleared her throat—but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

  She looked down at Bird, panicked.

  “You know which one I mean, Marina,” he said easily. “Go on. It’s one of my favorites.”

  She swallowed, cleared her throat again, took a breath…

  “There are several versions of this story,” she managed. “But I think…I like the version my dad told me best.” She swallowed. “Once upon a time…” she said, unable to think of anything else. “You wake up…Your Highness…and discover that Mjollnir isn’t anywhere in your room.” She paused, grasping her left hand with her right. “It’s been stolen.”

  “How?” Thor demanded. “No one can pick it up but me!”

  Loki snapped his fingers and grinned. Thor frowned at him.

  “What?”

  “Well, it’s obviously magic,” Loki said, as if Thor was stupid.

  “You did it, then!” Thor pointed at him. Loki’s mouth fell open.

  “I did not!”

  “How do you know?” Thor cried. “You don’t even know the story!” He whirled on Marina. “Did Loki do it?”

  “No,” Marina admitted.

  “See?” Loki gestured sharply at her.

  “But he goes to find out who did,” she went on. “So…he borrows Freya’s winged cloak and flies all the way to Jotunheim—”

  “That would be a nice thing to have,” Loki remarked. “A winged cloak.”

  “Be quiet,” Bird told him.

  “…And he sees Thrym, the king of the Frost Giants, standing on a cliff,” Marina said. “Loki lands beside him, and asks him about their problem. Thrym admits he took the hammer. He’s very proud of himself for stealing something right out from underneath Thor’s nose. Loki tells him that Thor wants it back. Thrym says no.”

  “You ought to kill him,” Thor muttered.

  “I ought to try, yes,” Loki nodded. “If I wanted to wind up pasted to the side of the mountain.”

  “Shut up and let the little thing talk,” Thor ordered. Loki searched the ceiling in exasperation, scooted noisily back and propped his feet up on the table.

  “Talk,” Thor said again to Marina. She risked a glance around—

  To see that many of the other Aesir had started listening to her. They had quieted their conversations, and their blue eyes found her.
<
br />   “Well,” Marina shifted tightly, her voice low. “Thrym tells him that the only way he’ll give Mjollnir back is if they bring Freya to be his wife.”

  “Hm,” Loki said, putting his elbow on his armrest and propping the side of his head on his fist. “That’ll go well.”

  “Mm,” Thor grunted. “So what do we do?”

  “Um…Heimdall has an idea—”

  “Who is Heimdall?” Loki made a face.

  “I don’t know anyone named Heimdall,” Thor told her.

  “Um…” Marina faltered. “Well, someone has an idea—”

  “Who?” Loki pressed.

  “Loki does,” Bird filled in.

  “All right,” Marina said quietly. “Loki does.”

  Thor openly groaned and rubbed his eyes.

  “Ah, so it’s my idea.” Loki grinned.

  “He says Thor should put on a dress and veil and pretend to be Freya, and when the giants let him in, he can steal Mjollnir back.”

  A rippling chuckle ran through the ranks of Aesir. Thor peeked over his hand.

  “A dress?”

  Loki waggled his eyebrows at Thor and kept grinning.

  “And Loki volunteers to go along as Thor’s bridesmaid,” Marina added.

  “Wha—?” Loki sat up straight.

  The laughter got louder, vibrating the tables.

  “Serves you right, Horse Face,” Thor muttered.

  “You know, he’s going to keep calling you that,” Bird warned Loki.

  “Not if he wants to go on living,” Loki said pleasantly.

  “What next?” Thor pressed. Bird put his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, and gave Marina a twinkling glance. So she bravely went on.

  “The two dress as women—but Loki doesn’t have to wear a veil, since he can’t grow a beard.”

  Several Aesir shouted and clapped. Thor sat up and puffed out his chest. Loki rolled his eyes.

  “Oh, as if I care.”

  “I can’t grow a beard either,” Bird pointed out.

  “That’s because you’re a baby,” Loki answered.

  “So what does that make you?” Bird countered.

  Snickers darted through the crowd. Loki stuck his tongue out at Bird. This caused a racket of amusement among the others—Loki glanced over and winked at them.