Prepare for War

Odin flung the door to the hall open wide, startling a pair of young Valkyries who’d been deep in a conversation as they passed by. They turned toward him with laughter on their lips, but when they saw their god and king they backed against the far wall, silent.

He felt a twinge of regret as he left them there, but there was no time. He had to call the council together. Now.

He paced the council chamber while he waited for his trusted companions to gather. No one bothered him, no doubt having gleaned from his demeanor and night-long vigil in the aviary that their king was troubled.

Once Heimdall had entered the room, Odin faced his counselors. “Close the door, please, Michael.”

Michael stood and went to the door, but hesitated. “Will Loki not be joining us?”

Odin felt a crushing weight on his chest as he considered what he had to tell them. “No.” He would likely never be joining them again. “Please, have a seat.”

Michael sat beside Mahria, as he often did, and not for the first time Odin wondered at the relationship between them. Michael, his general, and Mahria, the queen of the Valkyries - they would have made a powerful couple. It would have been a union Odin could easily have approved of. But the two had never connected in that way; instead they shared a friendship built on respect and mutual admiration that rivaled - well, that rivaled his and Heimdall’s, he supposed.

Heimdall - the last member of their council and god of the Bifrost - sat to his right, his warm-skinned face set in the placid, patient expression he was known for. It was impossible to read the man, but Odin knew him to be passionate and proud, just immensely private.

As he considered his council, small though it may be, he felt the tension drain from him, and he sank into his chair at the head of the table.

He rubbed his forehead. He knew what needed to be done as he’d never known anything before - thanks to Mimir’s gift. But he’d never guessed how heavy the knowing would be. After a long moment he sighed and looked up at his friends - for they were that, too - who had waited patiently on him.

“No doubt you have many questions.” He paused, grateful when all three of them seemed satisfied to let him tell them his tale at his own pace. “I -” he weighed the importance of one meeting against the other, “met with Loki yesterday afternoon. It...did not exactly go well.”

Michael pressed his palm to the table, spreading his fingers wide. Almost to himself he said, “I was afraid of that.” After a moment he looked up at Odin. “Desi told me her father had abandoned his rooms in the palace, though no one seems to know where he has gone.”

At the mention of his great-granddaughter, the tension in Odin’s shoulders returned. He had not seen anything to do with her, yet she had a part to play in all of this, he was sure. Should he have included her in this meeting in her father’s stead? As she was surely Odin’s heir now - unless Thor would soon return. He had a sense of his son out in the cosmos, had seen him, or the shadow of him, in the thoughts Huninn and Muninn had brought him. He shook his head. He had to focus on what he did know, and leave the rest to the future. He had to trust in this gift, this newfound power, that he would know what needed to be known.

“I wasn’t aware he had left,” Odin said at last. “But I expected as much. And no, our meeting did not go well at all. I believe I may have pushed him beyond my reach, and he has rejected me as surely as I have him all these years.” Odin saw the look pass between Michael and Mahria, unsurprised. Yes, he had not been the father the wild young man had needed. But regret was not new to Odin - he would one day be crushed beneath them all, he was sure. That was the cost of leadership he had accepted long, long ago and that, at least, he did not regret.

He straightened as he met his counselors’ gazes with renewed determination. He was not a king who feared ever to show his weaknesses to those in his inner circle, but now was not the time to wallow in self-pity. Now was the time to act. To prepare.

“Loki has abandoned our cause. He has gone to Jotenheim to prepare for war.”

“What?” Michael roared. “What war?”

Odin leveled his gaze on his general. “Loki will bring war to us. Even now, he rallies our people, instilling doubt and fear in them. Stirring them to rebellion.”

Michael slumped back in his chair. War between brothers was never a battle to be relished. There would be no honor in this contention.

Odin looked to Heimdall, the other god’s steady gaze on him finally breaking through to his awareness.

“And how do you know this?” asked Heimdall in his deep, resonate voice. But from his expression, Odin suspected the god already knew. Not much that happened in the cosmos escaped the god’s view. He surely would have seen the flight of the ravens and suspected...something.

“Mimir came to me yesterday,” Odin said.

Heimdall did not react, but continued to stare steadily at his friend.

“The creature who guards the Well of Urd?” Mahria asked, her pretty features screwed into a mask of distaste. “He came here?”

Odin nodded. “He appeared in my throne room immediately upon Loki’s retreat.”

“And you didn’t think his timing was suspicious?” Michael asked.

“Oh, I know he planned to arrive just so. But the bargain he offered was not a new one - it was simply one that’s time had come.”

“You’re talking about your eye, aren’t you?” Mahria asked. “And what did he give you in return?”

Odin opened his mouth to respond, but it was Heimdall who said, “Knowledge. That is the gift our king has long coveted for himself.”

Odin resented the implication that his sacrifice was only for himself and not in the best interest of his people. For now, he let the comment slide with only a passing glance at his friend. “There is power in knowledge, and I can see far better now than I ever could before.” He glared at Michael, thinking about his general and his granddaughter and the romance they kept hidden from him. But when Michael paled, Odin regretted his pettiness. This was not the time to worry about romance. Soon, there would be war - the bitterest and most awful kind - on their doorstep.

“Had I been more wise, I might have seen the damage I’d caused to Loki. I might have been the father he needed me to be. But now I fear -” How could he condemn his own grandchild? One who had come to him clothed in raiment of gold with hope and promise as his playthings? Now, Loki wielded the promise of death and hope for retribution. He shook his head. “Mimir’s gift was timely -”

“Trade,” Heimdall interrupted. “Call it what it is: a trade. He gave no gift to you. He offered a trade and you took it. You owe him nothing more.”

“I misspoke,” Odin agreed. “This trade then, was well-timed. For this morning I sent my thoughts - Huninn and Muninn - to see what was to be seen. Had I not had the ability to do so, we might not have known Loki’s plans for quite some time.”

Michael leaned forward onto his elbows. “Huninn and Muninn?”

Odin summoned them and they appeared, moving from one plane of existence to this one as between one thought and the next. His companions startled at the sudden appearance of the large, gleaming black birds. Huninn perched on Odin’s left shoulder, Muninn the right. “They see what needs to be seen,” Odin said. “So that I may know what needs to be known.”

“Impressive,” Mahria said. Then her lips twisted upward into a smile and Odin, relieved, smiled back.

“Indeed.” Heimdall, too, appraised the birds with approval. “They certainly do something for your -” he indicated Odin’s person “look.”

“I imagine they do,” Odin said with a tired laugh. “Now,” he said, settling back against his chair. The birds moved to stand on it, for which he was grateful, as their claws had dug through his jacket to pierce the skin beneath. He would have to instruct his tailor to add extra padding to his shoulders from now on.

“We have a war coming our way. We must plan for it and prepare to protect our people and their future - whatever we must do.” His counselors straightened, nodding their agreement, and Odin told them what needed to be done.