Evolution

Chapter 23

As Frigga sat down with Brynja, Katja, and Sunny for breakfast, Loki entered Brynja's room and sat down at the breakfast table watching the grey light outside darken with the gathering of storm clouds. He removed his iron crown and set it in the middle of the table. There was little he could do to stop the impending insurrection. Othik had, once again, started moving people behind the scenes. He knew things were more complicated this time, though. Othik had someone working against him even within his own rebellion. Every method of diplomacy that Loki tried failed and his only choice was to try to squash the rebellion before it gained any more speed. He could not bring himself to lead Jotunheim to civil war, so he waited for the day when he would be removed from the throne and executed. He had nearly come to the conclusion to attack Asgard so his end would come more quickly, but had decided against that as well, unwilling to ask others to die for his own selfish longing for some sort of swift and sure death by Odin's hand. He also did not want Brynja to be mourning him alone as his body was paraded back to Asgard by their victorious warriors, or as he was brought back to be executed there in front of her as she stood beside her mother and brother, Odin dropping the axe as she cried. He laid his head down on the table, remembering a day years ago when he had done the same, a similar feeling of wanting his own end to come tied to that memory and a remembrance of gentle fingers stroking his hair.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something white flitting from the clouds and immediately recognised it as a letter. He fumbled with the latching mechanism on the window, hoping it was for him. When he got the window open, the letter soared into the room and slid across the floor, the wind carrying it under Brynja's bed. He quickly closed the window and dropped to his knees to retrieve it.

He recognised the handwriting and sat down on the floor to read the letter. He read it a second time. Then he clutched it to his heart and let the words sink into his soul. She was alive. Married, with children, and very alive. Better yet, she would write again when she could.

He brought the letter to his lips and kissed the edge of the paper, "Bless you, Little Witch. After all this, you still think of me."

He sat for a while before rising and walking to her dresser to choose a book. His fingers danced across the spines; he'd read most of them many times over, but there was one little one, tucked back farther than the others, that he had not yet touched. He pulled it from the shelf- Howl and Other Poems. He opened the cover and noticed a looping hand had written in it, "Dearest Bree, may this copy replace the one dear to your heart that you lost on the subway. It still contains 'our poem', identical to the other, though it is missing Mr Ginsberg's signature. Much love, your Sunflower. 1988."

Loki stared at the inscription for a moment before flipping through the pages to see if he could figure out which poem the inscriber had indicated. When he landed on Sunflower Sutra, he knew he had found it. He went to Brynja's bed and sat down to read it out loud, a habit he had made when reading poetry in her room after he had realised that since no one was listening, he could finally try to decipher the Burns book.

He read the poem twice, just to make sure that its meaning settled on him. He wondered if any of her other books had inscriptions like this one, so leaving Howl on the bed, he went back to the dresser and pulled out a black bound volume- For Whom The Bell Tolls. He flipped open the cover and found another inscription, "Darling, I know we must part, but may this be a final gift to you. Shine wherever you go- take your light into the poppy fields of Europe and bring peace where you land. You will always be in my heart, your Starlet."

Loki carefully placed the book back on the shelf and wondered if the woman in the photographs on top of the trunks was the same one who signed the inscription. He realised he had never thought to look to see if Brynja had left inscriptions in the books she had passed to him during his confinement. He selected his favourite off the dresser- the Blake poetry, "Loki- William Blake thought he saw angels and they opened his eyes to the truth of the world. I am no angel, but perhaps through Blake you can gain a little knowledge of the truth beyond this world. Keep your heart looking forward, I will not leave you forever. Yours, Brynja."

As he slipped the book back on the shelf, he knocked over the adjacent volumes. A letter floated out to the floor. He retrieved it and was about to put it back between the books when he realised that his name was written on it. The paper felt a little brittle, as though the pressure from the books had made it thin. He took it over to the breakfast table, picking up Howl from the bed as he passed. He sat down and set this old letter next to the one he had received today, the paper from the past clearly faded.

He slowly opened it, "Loki, my dearest, these past few days have been delightful. I think you have been more yourself since I awoke from Witchery's sleep than I have seen you in years. You play and joke as you did before you found out who your father was. I wish I saw this side of you more often. It is truly beautiful and I am drawn to your smile- I love how happy you are.

"It isn't just your happiness that I am drawn to, but the way you make me laugh along with you, the tender way you tease me when you catch me off guard when you make mischief of one kind or another. The light touch of your hand on my back as you guide me through some new and fascinating illusion you've conjured or as we dance together in front of the fireplace, our lips so close we are a breath away from a kiss. I know this cannot last- that you will be asked to take on the grave task of ruling this place and that you will accept to save us both from Othik's rage- but I have decided to make the most of this and to open my heart to you so that I can feel our time together more fully. Of course, that means when all this shit hits the fan, it's going to hurt all that much more, but isn't that what life's for? For feeling all the intense crap that we can and embracing the ability to feel so fully that we regret nothing when we die?

"I wish I could shelter you, keep you like this, but I know I cannot. All I know is that you are going to betray me by sending me back to Asgard. Hell, by the time you read this, you most likely already will have. I will be hurt. I will be angry. I will want to scream and cry and punch you in the face. Most of all, though, I will be in pain because I will have, for this short time, let myself love you deeply and will know that when you take the throne, Father will call me back to be married. I will hate you for this as intensely as I love you.

"Know this, Loki Laufeyson: I will mourn the loss of you one way or another, whether you are dead or I am called home to uphold the bargain we made for your freedom. I do not know under what circumstances you will be reading this letter, whether it is ten days or ten years after I have written it. I only hope if you do read it, that it both stabs you and heals something in you.

"I hold you in my heart, now and forever after, Bryn."

Loki stared at the letter, "She loved me." He looked back over the first letter he had read that day and wondered if she might still, even just a little. Realising that this was unlikely, he pressed it close to his heart, his head bowed, and felt the stab of regret she had wished for him in the letter.