bladesofasgard | Honeyed Lies

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Honeyed Lies

The announcement of a visitor was a rare thing, but not unheard of. Still, it interrupted Brunnhilde’s morning schedule, which had been tight to begin with. The news that it was the Lady Sif requesting an audience with her lessened her displeasure at the interruption somewhat, but did nothing to allay her surprise. She had a soft spot for the girl, as she had since she was a small child. She’d watched her grow, had lent her fair share of hours in training her when she insisted on following her desire to be a warrior. It was a disappointment that the girl still stubbornly clung to her loyalties in joining the Einherjar rather than abandoning Asgard for the Valkyrie, but Brunnhilde held no real grudge over the loss.

Not against Sif, at least. Odin, he was the one Brunnhilde held the grudge against. For a great many wrongs.

Still, Brunnhilde stopped short of entering, taking a moment to study the girl in the audience chamber, gauging her mood and her purpose. She saw more than she intended and her gaze narrowed as she went carefully still. There was something not right here. Somethin beyond the surprise of Sif’s unannounced visit.

The faint aura that glowed about the girl’s form had Brunnhilde going carefully still, a pang of regret searing through her before puzzlement replaced the ache. The ability to see Death’s mark was her heritage as Valkyrie, but never before had she seen such as this. A double halo surrounded the girl sitting patiently in the room, glowing with twinned light, fluctuating one over the other. It was a mystery, for Brunnhilde was not sure that a person could be marked for Death twice, but she could see no other cause for the double warning about the girl’s form. The existence of the halo hardly made the girl’s fate inevitable – it was faint enough that it was a possibility, but not certain. But the fact that it existed at all was indicated that the girl had landed herself in considerable trouble.

“Lady Sif,” Brunnhilde spoke as she strode into the audience chamber, her deep blue cape swirling out behind her. Her hands lifted, removing the crested help from her head, letting the twin golden braids free to tumble down her back. Sif stood with an easy grace to meet her – another thing out of place, an oddity Brunnhilde might not have noticed if she hadn’t been looking. Sif was rarely still, especially if there was something troubling her mind. Brunnhilde kept her thoughts from her face however as she approached the girl with a faint tilt of her head in greeting.

“This is an unexpected surprise. I was not anticipating a visit from you so soon after your last stay. Is all well with you?”

Sif dropped into a deep bow of respect, fist clutched over her heart as she ducked her head, dark braid swinging freely over one shoulder. “I apologize for showing up unannounced, my lady, but I bring dire news. I have come as quickly as I was able, to bring you warning.”

“Warning?” Brunnhilde’s tone was sharp, her gaze narrowing on the girl before her. A warrior before all else, the words ‘dire news’ instantly had her on high alert. “What is this news you bring to me?”

Sif ducked her head, expression one of mingled anger and regret. “My Lady Brunnhilde, there is trouble stirring in Asgard. The Allfather has slipped into the Odinsleep, as is his tradition. He has left his sons to rule in his stead.. This is not so unusual, but this is the first time they have had such full control. The Queen has not been seen since the Allfather slipped into deep slumber and her gentle restraint is most obviously missed. The elder prince, Thor, has grown restless and bored with the petty court politics and his younger brother has been his constant shadow, whispering intrigues in his ears. The councilors are uneasy, for Thor has turned away from them, preferring the company and words of his brother.”

Here Sif paused, taking a deep breath, obviously gathering her courage for the words she was forcing past her lips, her struggle evident on her face. “I almost did not come, my lady, but I could not stand by and watch, do nothing, not after the words I overheard. Thor is bored with peaceful times. He is young and rash and wishes for glory, wishes to make a name for himself. This is known, it is something that the king often indulged in his own way, and would be expected for a warrior in a time of peace. Were it only his frustration to be endured, I would not be here, but Loki plots from the shadows. They speak of war, my lady. Of earning their own glory, while Odin sleeps, unseeing and unhearing. And they intend to use you to do so.”

“Me?” Brunnhilde echoed, sounding shocked and skeptical at the accusation. Her attention was entirely focused on the girl and the words she spoke. But while she laughed, scoffing at this news, her mind was already picking apart the warrior’s words, her tone, her expression, searching for what was not said, and why. “I have not the time or patience to indulge a pair of spoiled princes in their play. What do I care for their childish ploys for attention?”

“Because they plot to stage an attack on an Aesir patrol with this, my lady,” Sif answered, shifting as she retrieved the bundled object bound at her back. The fabric fell away, revealing a familiar golden hilt, carved with the head of a dragon.

Brunnhilde’s fingers twitched instinctively at the sight of that familiar hilt, so long absent from her grip. “Dragonfang,” she muttered, surprise and anger in her tone. Sif held the sword out to her and she took it, her fingers curling around the hilt, feeling the familiar hum of magic as it reacted to her touch, finding its home once more. No imitation, this.

“How did you acquire this, Lady Sif?” the Valkyrie demanded sharply, finally dragging her gaze from the bared blade to fix the girl with a piercing stare. “None should have known the whereabouts of this blade save for myself and Odin.”

“I heard them speak of it, my lady,” Sif answered hastily, honesty plain in her gaze. “How they learned of it, I know not, but I overheard their plotting. With the Allfather asleep and the Queen in seclusion, I knew not where to turn with this. I only knew that I could not stand by while the king’s piece crumbled for some youthful folly. The Allfather would never approve of such actions and I cannot think my prince would have condoned it either, if not for the sweet lies whispered in his ears. “I could not let Loki’s plot come to pass, my lady, so I broke into the vault of which they’d spoken and retrieved this blade before fleeing the city. I hoped to warn you so that this terrible betrayal might not come to pass. With you forewarned and the blade lost to them, returned to its rightful owner, I thought this treachery might yet be averted.”

And there was the slip she’d been watching for. Brunnhilde’s gaze narrowed on the girl, her fingers instinctively tightening about the hilt of her blade. Brunnhilde was not known for her mercy and she accepted betrayal from none – least of all Odin’s line. She was Valkyrie. She was Vengeance. She was Death. Pleas had no affect on her and the warrior maiden knew this well. Sif would also know that the tidings she brought to Brunnhilde’s ears was the surest way to start a war. Which made every word the girl had uttered suspect.

Added to that was Sif’s own betrayal. Not to Brunnhilde or the other Valkyrie, but to herself, and her princes. Brunnhilde had known the girl since the time she was a small child, had fostered her here on many occasions. It had been to her the girl had fled when court and family had wounded her deeply, had mocked her, had tried to form her into the image they mistakenly believed best. Brunnhilde knew better than any that it was not blood ties or ambition or even any sense of loyalty to the Allfather himself that kept Sif trapped within the high walls of Asgard.

No, for merely that, the girl would have abandoned them all long ago. But for the two brothers currently holding reign in Asgard… For them, Brunnhilde suspected Sif would risk all. The girl had loved them with all her being for longer than Brunnhilde had even known her. Brunnhilde knew her sense of honor, her deep loyalty, and while she thought it misguided, it was something she had always respected in the other warrior.

The Lady Sif would die before betraying her princes. No matter what they asked of her.

Which meant that this was not at all what it seemed, even if she did not yet know why.

Still, Brunnhilde kept this knowledge secret, showing only icy outrage on her face. “Dire news indeed, Lady Sif,” she murmured, staring down at her blade once more, taking comfort in the warm hum of its own magic, the reassurance of its presence. Letting it soothe her as she contemplated her next course of action.

“If the young princes are so determined for war, who am I to deprive them of it?” she murmured aloud, pretending to miss the expression of dismay that flared over Sif’s features. That was a lie, for it was accompanied by an unlikely glam in those dark eyes, one out of place and easily seen, for one who was looking for it. So this one was not so skilled an actress as she seemed, whoever she was, or whatever her purpose here.

“I will consult my war leaders,” Brunnhilde decided aloud after a moment of contemplation, playing out the ruse. “We will decide the best course of action to pursue. There is a room readied for you, Lady Sif, and I will have refreshments sent to you, that you might rest and relax. Your words and experience may yet be needed in this,” she added, motioning to one of the servants hovering just out of sight.

Sif dipped into another deep bow of deference, her features carefully blank but her posture speaking of worry and uncertainty. “If that is your wish, my lady.”

“It is,” Brunnhilde bid her, then remained silent and still as Sif nodded and followed the servant from the chamber, casting one last glance over her shoulder at the Valkyrie before disappearing.

A moment later, there was a flicker of movement behind Brunnhilde’s shoulder as her second-in-command stepped from the shadows. “Do you wish me to summon the Council?” she asked softly, her gaze intent on Brunnhilde’s face.

“No,” the Valkyrie answered firmly, her expression thoughtful. “Not yet. I do not like this and while I believe Odin’s line capable of such duplicity, I will not break this long-held treaty on the word of one. Send one of our swiftest messengers to Asgard. Find Vania, she has been hidden among the court for many months now. See if she has any word of these mutterings of war. And ask if she has heard anything of note of the Lady Sif.”

Her second’s gaze sharpened, but the woman did not argue or question, merely clutched her fist over her heart. “As you wish, Valkyrie. I will send our swiftest rider.”

“Good,” Brunnhilde smiled grimly. “In the meantime, keep an eye on our guest. I want to be notified of anything odd, or if she makes any move outside her chambers. Quietly.”

“It will be done.”

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Loki made all haste to Valkyrie lands, armed for a private war even if he did not look it. It was not the Valkyrie he wished to fight, after all, but whoever had authored this plot.

And he knew Brunnhilde, thought not well. He didn't think she would be eager to start a war with Asgard. That fact alone gave him the advantage in pursuit of his hunt.

There were Valkyrie waiting for him at the end of the Bifrost. With them watching, he could not scry and see if he could pick up anything, Sif's blood or perhaps the enchantments on the knife he had given her. No, it would have to wait, even if the thought made him grind his teeth.

His face was a perfectly pleasant mask, suitable for the court when he greeted the guards. "I come as an emissary from Thor Odinsson, who sits on the throne of Asgard. I seek audience with Brunnhilde over a matter of the utmost importance."

One of the Valkyrie stepped forward to greet him, though the others were all alert and wary behind her, their hands on their weapons, ready to attack in an instant if the signal was given. Still, the one in command strode forward with an easy confidence, grace in her stride as she approached him with the air of one used to giving orders and being immediately obeyed.

"You come with no word or warning, Loki, son of Odin," the warrior greeted him with even tones, her bright blue gaze narrowed in speculation. "We were not anticipating your arrival and you are not welcome here. Why then should I allow you entrance into our lands?"

Despite her challenge, there was little hostility in her tone. At least, not for a Valkyrie. There was little love lost between the famed female warriors and Odin's line. Or any male at all, for that matter.

"When the news is urgent, it's best to not delay bouncing messengers back and forth, time being as precious as life and limb," Loki said, sounding almost bored with the conversation. "I would suggest you allow me bring my news to Brunnhilde and let her decide what my fate shall be. If our troubles are insufficiently entertaining, I have little doubt in her ability to make my life highly... interesting."

The Valkyrie considered these words for a moment before giving him a sharp smile and snapping her fingers for the other warriors to mount up. "Then I will see you to our Lady, Prince of the Aesir, and let her decide what is to be done with you. You will ride with us," she commanded before moving to her own mare and mounting with graceful ease. She gave him one more speculative look before giving the motion to ride out, leading the way as her warriors fell into formation around him.

Edited 2012-03-20 03:37 (UTC)

Loki bowed, only a touch of irony in the motion. He mounted back on Vakri and followed the Valkyrie without further comment. He kept his hands tucked away in his sleeves so that the twitching of his fingers, so eager to cast the magic that might point him in the next direction, was not visible.

He remained silent and outwardly relaxed as they rode, keeping his expression carefully guarded.

The guard escorted him into the Valkyrie's compound, keeping a watchful eye on him at all times. When they reached the large double gate, the warrior in command dismounted, leaving her mare with one of her companions as she motioned for him to do the same.

"Your mount will be tended and waiting for you," she spoke, her tone polite but to the point as she turned on her heel and motioned the guards out of the way, leading the Aesir prince inside the gate and up the wide marble stairs to the public chamber. "The Valkyrie has been sent for." There were no offers of refreshment for him - it was not yet certain if he was welcome or not, and it was not her responsibility to offer hospitality or false promises.

Loki paused to murmur something quietly to Vakri, then followed the guards without another backward glance.

The delay chafed. There was so much that he could be doing, and none of it was possible while he was being so watched, while he had to think of politics first and not the purpose at hand.

His expression was a rigid mask as he waited. Normally, he could have sat quietly and pretended that he was still bored with the entire affair. But because it was Sif missing, because he knew without a doubt that something had been done to her, it was no normal situation. He did not sit as he waited, but rather paced in the limited area allowed to him by the guards, the motion like the prowl of a caged tiger.

If Brunnhilde was surprised to see Odin's youngest son prowling her audience chamber when she strode into the room, it did not show on her face. Dressed in armor from her morning on the practice ground, there was nothing courtly or soft about her as she moved down the stairs towards him, her long blond braid swinging down her back.

"Loki Odinson. What an unexpected surprise," she spoke in greeting, forgoing pleasantries. She had little patience for them. "To what do I owe this... honor?"

Loki could play at the word games of small talk with the best of them, and often got his greatest work accomplished in those times. But now, he was more than happy to cut through all of those useless words and get to the point, so it was a relief to deal with someone so straight forward.

"A thief has stolen an item from the vaults of Asgard and was last seen heading toward your lands." He quickly held up a hand to show he had more he wished to say. "I have every reason to smell a plot that would play both our peoples, and I thought that might be of interest to you."

He could not hide the cold rage that filled his eyes as he looked at Brunnhilde, something he wasn't even completely aware of. The emotion was not directed at her; it just waited to be given a target, to wash the ground with blood when he found that. The people of the Nine Realms thought of Loki Odinsson as a smooth politician at best and a malicious prankster at worst; this was a side to him no one had seen nor could have expected.

Brunnhilde paused at the bottom of the stairs, her gaze narrowing slightly on the prince before her as she examined his words. Her hand rested on the simple hilt of an unadorned sword, no hint of any stolen items in evidence. She would not give any aid one way or another until she figured out what games were being played here. She had little patience for games.

"You have my attention, young prince," she admitted mildly, inclining her head. She watched him with an intent gaze, taking in the changes in him since the last time she'd laid eyes on him. Was Odin aware of what he had here, she wondered? It had been many years since she'd encountered either son of Odin, but what news had been passed to her had not worried her. But now she wondered how much she could rely on it? This matched nothing she had heard.

She lifted a hand, inviting him to join her as she moved to sink down on one of the many cushioned benches scattered about the room.

"Tell me what you know of this plot. And what it is you wish of me."

Loki stalked over to Brunnhilde and sat opposite her, sinking gracefully onto the bench. His back was ramrod straight, hands relaxed against his legs. Expression and voice were all still nothing but polite and something approaching innocuous; it was only his eyes that gave him away.

"The item stolen was a sword. One perhaps you would have interest in, though I would not for a moment think you so dishonorable that you would sink to thievery. The... perpetrator has also sought to implicate one of the Aesir as a traitor to thicken the plot. The lady Sif." He regarded Brunnhilde steadily. "You and I are both well enough acquainted with the lady in question to know that is impossible on its face."

"It would take a dire thing indeed to tempt the Lady Sif to both thievery and treason," Brunnhilde countered, her tone giving nothing away as she studied him speculatively, more intent at the moment on figuring out the truth of him, rather than his words.

"I have seen a great many impossible things come to pass in my time, Prince of Asgard. And things are rarely as they seem."

Loki leaned forward slightly. "There is no need so dire that she would do either of those things without speaking to me first," he said, voice dangerous and low. "Do you really wish to force me to defend the Lady's honor when there is a traitor to our houses attempting to foment war?"

He smiled like a dagger. "And things are rarely as they seem, Valkyrie. Whoever has crossed into your territory wearing the face of Lady Sif is not she."

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