Loki's Serpent (Chapter Three)

Outside the stables, as our horses were led from their stalls to an area we could all seven mount our steeds, Thor spoke first. "First, we must find a way to get past Heimdall."  I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"That will be no easy task," Volstagg exclaimed. "It's said the gatekeeper can see a single drop of dew fall from a blade of grass a thousand worlds away!"

Fandral laughed. "Yes, and he can hear a cricket passing gas in Niflheim!"

"Jest not!  He heareth all!"

"Please!  Getting past him should be simple enough now, since he seems to be letting Frost Giants sneak by under his nose!"

"Oh, forgive him!  He meaneth no offense!"

I clapped a hand to Fandral's shoulder as we made our way out of the area. "Do not be so...stubborn, my friend.  Volstagg has heard more tales than we.  Perhaps we ought to listen to him?"

"I do not doubt Volstagg has heard the tales," Fandral said, returning the friendly gesture with a hand on my shoulder. "I merely think that Heimdall has perhaps lost his touch just a smidge."

"I'll disagree with that, friend."

As we mounted our horses, I recalled the many times I had gone to visit the gatekeeper.  With a light hand on Chantrea's neck as we took off, I smiled.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-173 years ago-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The twelve-year-old made her way through the palace for the first time without an escort.  A soft, pale pink dress adorned her slight figure, her long brown hair pulled back in a braid, her green reptilian eyes surveying everything.  Anyone who might look upon her would think she was a true Asgardian, save the fact that she occasionally tripped over the length of her gown.

In spite of this, the little girl had a destination in mind.  Her new family had told her that there were two people who could possibly tell her about her old one, the one that had thrown her out just for being unique and special.  Her new father could, but he had refused to.  He didn't want her to change her mind it seemed.  But how could she?  She had a comfortable place and a happy new family.

She only wanted to see if her other family was as happy as they had claimed they would be without her.  Slowly, she made her way out onto the glittering bridge that Loki had brought her across so swiftly on horseback.  Her footsteps made music as she walked, so much slower than any horse could take the bridge.  It was the main entrance and exit of Asgard, though, and her lessons had advanced to the point where she could understand why.
The bridge was designed so that an invasion was immediately thwarted.  The gatekeeper oversaw everyone who came and went from the realm, and the bridge was too thin to support an entire army.  A few horses at a time, perhaps two or three horse-drawn carts.

"Greetings, Eirlys."

Those green eyes traveled up, up, up, past the golden armor, to the downturned and near-expressionless face of the gatekeeper.

"G-greetings, Heimdall," she said, trying not to stammer in her nervousness and failing miserably.

"I understand you are here to know if your family misses your presence," he said, slowly kneeling down to her level, laying the huge blade he held across the glittering lightshow of a bridge. "I witnessed the serpent bite into your ankle, little one.  I saw the changes in you begin and can tell you they are not yet finished.  Something else...hides."

"Do you know what?" Eirlys asked, fussing with her skirt.

"I am afraid I don't, little one."

"Call me by my name.  Mama and Father gave me the name Eirlys to make me theirs.  I would like to be referred to by that alone."

"I would prefer to call you little one, for you are a gentle and young soil, younger than any in Asgard."

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-167 years ago-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

For the next six years, Eirlys visited Heimdall whenever she had a moment free.  She was changing, metamorphosing, growing up.  Frigga occasionally commented on the fact that Eirlys's entire wardrobe had to be changed out entirely every two months or so due to height and shape differences that were signs of her growing.  Too quickly, the little snowdrop was becoming a young lady.

No matter how much Frigga tried, she couldn't keep her away from the training grounds.  The queen claimed it was improper for the young woman to train with weaponry.  Of course, it was no help that Eirlys was, by Asgard's standards for Midgardian mortals, of legal age.  Eighteen years old and running wild with Sif and the other warriors of Asgard.
Fandral was quick to educate her in proper fencing techniques, even though she had a horrible penchant for disarming her opponent and fighting with both blades.  The warrior called her a cheat, even when she told him that a true enemy wouldn't care for proper techniques.  A true enemy's only goal was to kill his or her opponent as swiftly as possible.

Late one summer's eve, Eirlys and Loki began their magic training.

"Come now, Eirlys," Loki said, circling her slowly as she tried to conjure a simple ball of energy. "I accomplished this when I was your age in Asgardian terms."

"You had more experience than I at the time," she spat through gritted teeth.

Loki shook his head slightly. "No, not really.  Certainly, being born an Asgardian had an effect on my magical ability, but I have seen Midgardians accomplish this task just as easily as I did." He shrugged. "Keep trying."

With a very snake-like hiss, Eirlys flung her empty-looking hand at Loki, a sparkle of energy igniting just before a ball would have left, following the trajectory straight toward Loki's chest, forcing him to stumble backwards.

"Is that sufficient for the evening, Loki?" she asked, her eyes focused on him like the predator she could easily be.

"Again, Eirlys," Loki grinned.

This time, Eirlys did not simply attempt to conjure a small orb of energy.  Instead, she placed her hands close to each other against her chest before shoving the summoned energy outward at him, forcing him onto his back this time.  Slowly, she eased down, seating herself on his stomach and smirking at him.

"That'll show you to push me, Loki Odinson," she whispered, trailing her fingers over his chest.

This was the first time she realized her physical attraction to Loki.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-Present Day-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

I shook my head slightly, still grinning at the memory that always made me laugh when I thought of it.  It was a good memory to keep close, but not one I wanted to spread around.
As we rode, Loki, Thor, and I fell into an old pattern of ours.  Whenever we rode the length of the Bifrost, we would race.  Thor held the most victories, but Loki and I had our fair share.

This time, of course, the other four members of the party took part.  The seven of us were nearly close together for comfort, but it was actually enjoyable.  Easily, I pressed Chantrea to surge to the front.  Then it was the three of us again, neck and neck, speeding toward Heimdall.

When we finally stopped, Chantrea made certain to stop a foot ahead of the others.
"I win," I said quietly, as I dismounted, sticking my tongue out in a childish gesture.  I couldn't resist.  I loved when I had the opportunity to come out victorious.

Plus, I needed the light-heartedness the action offered me.

Jotunheim was no laughing matter.