Divided Chapter 30

      Assignment: 64379-01
Location: Asgard



Agent: Colin M. Denehy
Date: 9/3/29


  Upon my return to Asgard yesterday to a virtually empty house save for Hal and Vesta, I decided to ride for the palace. Hal said the family en masse had set out for the palace shortly after I'd headed for the longhouses. There is much to do to prepare for the funeral rites so I was told and I wished to see, however irreverent it might seem, the rituals being performed in person. At the very least it would distract me from the mass of confusion that was my brain at the moment.
Along the shores of the great western ocean at the farthest edge of the city proper lies a half circle of  six stone ships facing out across the water. At their tips lie another stone ship which dwarfs the other six in sheer size. Probably three of the smaller ships could fit inside the larger one. If you need a reference to what I'm seeing, picture a miniature Stonehenge like structure, about waist high, in the shape of a longboat, the stones embedded into the ground. The gooar, or Norse priests if you will, were inside the stone ship at dawn, burning incense and herbs to purify the ground where the funeral bier would be. Normally a new set of garments would be started for the former king but when it was made known he was turning for the worse, the seamstresses were already at work. In fact, I found Loki in their workshop, inspecting the robes when I arrived. I was shocked to see his long hair cropped to his shoulders. He gave me a sad smile, explaining that it was a symbol of respect for the dead that the men shear their hair short. There are other rituals connected with this funeral that will seem downright barbaric. Case in point; at the seamstress was an older man I recognized as Odin's houseboy, or valet if you will. Looking to be in his late fifties, he carries himself with the bearing of one who's been brought up amongst the gentry. He was being fitted for a fine set of clothes as well. Loki nudged me and tilted his head toward the man. “Raimun will follow the Allfather to Valhalla so he may serve him in the afterlife  as he has on this plane.”
Of course I had to ask how exactly he was to follow Odin.
He then explained to me that the day before the funeral rites Raimun would spend the day drinking the finest wines, eating the choicest foodstuffs, his every whim seen to.
I was starting to see where this was going. Like being feted at a retirement party....or if you like, a prisoner receiving whatever he wished for a last meal.
Loki continued on, telling me Raimun would then be brought to a special tent for the evening set up near the stone ships where he would be presented with a number of beautiful women to satisfy his pleasure for the night. When I remarked servicing the women alone would half kill me, he laughed for the first time since Odin's passing. “He may well have time to sleep after all,” Loki chuckled, “You see, Raimun prefers the attention of men. I told him earlier to take the more manly women first and he roared with laughter.” Then at dawn, he would be plied with yet more wine until he was insensate. Then he would be given a sword to hold and one of the Aesir, possibly even Thor himself, would run him through with his sword as Raimun had never fought in battle, Valhalla being the resting place of warriors, one had to seem the part. Then his body would be placed upon his own bier within one of the smaller stone ships to be consumed by fire with the Allfather, thus would he follow Odin to Valhalla.
I said it was a bit gruesome, truth be told. Raimun overheard me and joined us, reassuring me that it was his choice to join his master in the afterlife. He was doing so out of his own free will. I asked if he was afraid. He replied, “I am frightened only at the transition from Asgard to Valhalla but I know what awaits us in those golden halls. I am ready.”
Lord, if I can someday meet my own demise with such strength of conviction, I could well nigh die merrily. Please don't take it as a hint. I am most certainly NOT ready yet.
I left Loki with the seamstress to look for the rest of the household. The children, when I found them, were delighted to see me as I seem to be a welcome distraction from the somber tone of their elders, the whole city if the truth be known. They were all gathered in the royal nursery with Prince Lóriði, Helgi, Eidra and the Queen who is beginning to show a bit. The king has sequestered himself alone to meditate. I doubt Loki will be in a disposition to do the same. He seemed  rather more upset than grief stricken but I felt it rude to pry.
Brenna and Fen, at their level of maturity, were somber, Fen playing at dice quietly with Gunnar, Brenna sitting in the  sill of a window reading a tome. In the time spent with the family, in various conversations with Eidra and Loki, and through sheer observation during my time here, I gathered that Odin had little or nothing to do with any of the children. Even  Prince Lóriði who, for a time was considered an heir to the throne of Asgard, had seen little of the mighty Allfather. By the time of his birth, the dementia had started creeping in. Loki had said dementia had nothing to do with Odin's seeming apathy, rather he was cold by nature and that a greater blow to the children would be to lose their grandmother, Queen Frigga who lavished attention on them when they came to visit. I could see also in Loki's face how he cherished the woman.
I told them nothing of what happened in New York. Whether it was fear of being taken for a fool, thought of as crazy, or taken seriously, I don't know. I don't even know myself what I'm thinking. The whole impossibility of being related to someone from another realm, of having anything akin to magic in my past just boggles the mind. I mean what would they do? Would the Asgardians grant me some sort of dual citizenship? Would Fury pull me out of Asgard as a risk? What if the Asgardians hated my many greats grandad and wind up stringing me from the highest tree? I mean if he ran away to Midgard, there had to be a reason, right? I've considered looking through the immense library here in the palace for clues to my heritage only I'm afraid of what I might find. I need to think more on it. For now preparations for the funeral will take up a large part of our time. Afterward, it's back to work. With any luck I'll not have the time to worry.


  Colin..



The music drowned out all other sound, the thunder of the base palpable in the air. Eris snaked through the mass of sweaty bodies, sequins, leather, lace up boots, stilettos, silk in an effort to reach the bar on the other side of the club floor.
The group had been called to assemble in the large conference room at nine a.m that morning where they'd been told their trip to Asgard would be delayed another two weeks due to circumstances beyond their control. Frustrated at the delay, having been cooped up in the hotel for the previous two weeks and unwilling to crack her book for yet another mind numbing evening, she'd slipped out of the hotel aided by a couple of valet's she had, for want of a better word, befriended.
At the very least, the extra days gave her time to figure out how she was going to get through the portal without being seen. The being seen part was a given, the problem being that she wanted it to look like she'd chickened out before they even left. That was going to take some doing. They'd been given a tour of the portal which had been built in the staging room on sub-level 2 at Stark Tower and she already had a plan turning in her head, it just needed a bit more work.
On the stage at the front of the dance floor, spotlights had popped on, glinting off a polished metal pole set center stage. Eris sighed. At the very least she could be making some cash right now. Her funds were running a little low. She leaned over the bar and waggled a finger at the bartender who flashed her a wide smile, “Be right with ya, baby.”
She glanced over her shoulder as the music started again, louder than before. Alex slipped from behind the black silk curtains at the back of the stage. She was dressed in a backless white chemise studded with rhinestones, a pair of white fishnet stockings held up with garters, and a pair of white stilettos. Against her dark skin, the effect was dazzling. Eris watched her work the pole for a few moments until the voice in her ear asked, “What'll ya be having?”
Eris turned back to face the bar, “Long Island iced tea.”
The bartender picked up a tall glass, “She's hard to take your eyes off from isn't she?”
“No shit.”
He set the glass on the counter and grabbed a bottle of tequila, “You ever do any dancing?”
Any other time she'd tell him to fuck off just on principle but two weeks of playing nice had left her a little punch drunk.
“Why? Do I look like I have?”
The bartender's grin widened further, “If you ain't, you ought to try it. You got the body for it.”
She leaned back from the bar, running her hands slowly down her ribs to her hips, her fingers tugging ever so slightly on the hem of her black mini dress, “You really think so?”
So intent was he on watching her, he spilled a bit of tequila on the bar. She giggled as he quickly readjusted his aim, “I'd take that as a yes.”
“If you stay after last call, you can take a shot at it.” He slid the drink across the bar to her, holding up his hand as she reached into her bra for her money, “On the house.”
She winked at him, “Thanks,” glanced at Alex who was gearing up for her finale, “Maybe I will. I could always use some extra cash.” She held up her glass and sauntered off into the crowd toward the stage door, standing off away from the bouncer who was eying her with a stern look on his face. Alex stepped down from the stage and nodded to him, “She's okay Dallas.”
He opened the door and she followed Alex back stage. They passed a petite blond in a fishnet suit on her way to the stage. She nodded to Alex, glaring at Eris.
“Don't take it personally, honey,” Alex shot back to Eris as she opened the door to the dressing rooms, “You know jealousy when you see it. I didn't expect to see you here.”
Eris dropped into a chair, “I had to get out. I've had enough of rules and shit to last me forever.”
Alex bent over her dressing table to look at herself in the mirror, “And yet you still got a ticket for this carnival ride? You think it's gonna get any better on the other side? They ain't gonna just drop you off and say go on, get yo' ass outta here. You gonna be marching to their beat.”
“I told you,” Eris leaned forward to join Alex's reflection in the mirror, “I've got a plan.”
“I know you do, I just don't wanna be reading about y'all being thrown in jail.”
Eris smirked, “I ain't ever been on the inside and I don't intend to be either. Can't catch what you can't see.....hey, the bartender told me to stay after hours and dance for him, see if I'm any good. What you think?”
Alex turned and sat on the dressing table, “Girl, you know what he wants to see.”
Eris gave her leg a shove, “Well shit, I weren't born yesterday. Question is will he pay good?”
“He might, he the owner of this dive. The money's alright for us dancers.”
Eris leaned back and crossed her legs at the ankle, “Good, I need cash. A pretty mouth only goes so far.”


“It's so sad,” she whispered, “I've lost family. My granny and grampy both in the same year.”
Gretten gazed up at the stars, “It is the way of all worlds, Beth.”
They had stolen from the kitchen when they'd finished cleaning up from the evening meal to sit on the stone steps outside the back door. The chill of autumn had begun to take hold of the nights and Beth edged closer to Gretten.
“No matter how well prepared you think you are, though, you're never quite willing to let go.”
Gretten lifted her hand, patted it, “Perhaps because you do not believe you will see them again, those that go before you.”
Beth looked at her grandmother's ring, “I don't know if I do. That's one thing you Asgardians seem to have in abundance, the unshakable faith that we continue on to the next plane.”
“Of course we do,” he squeezed her hand, “What about your beliefs? What do you think happens after we depart this existence?”
Beth peered into the darkness, “I was always taught that good people go to Heaven, bad people go to Hell but we're talking catholicism.”
“Is that what you call your religion?”
She locked her arm in the crook of his elbow and laughed, “No that's what I call my daddy's religion. I'm on the fence. Maybe that's why dying scares me so...because I don't really believe in the afterlife.”
She felt him kiss the side of her head, “Here in this realm, The Asgardians believe those good people who die will go to Helgafell, the warriors to Valhalla, the unsavory and the evil go to Hel.”
Beth could barely make him out in the darkness but she turned to stare in his direction, “You believe in Hell here?”
“Likely not the same place as you do but yes,” Gretten stood up from the steps with a groan, “Oh the cold chills me to the bone. Woman, let us not dwell on such sad things. We will have sadness in abundance on the morrow.”
She took his hand and he hauled her up to her feet.
“I wish I could warm your bones tonight.” She whispered as he opened the door for her.
“Another night, my sweet roll. We need all the rest we can get. Tomorrow will be a very long day.”


“Hush, boy.” Loki patted Lightning's neck as the stable hand moved the bales of fresh hay about in the rear of the wagon. Even the horses were uneasy, sensing the somber tone of the day. The household had awakened with little of the usual banter. The younger children clung close to Ingrid or Eidra. Fen had followed him about, helping him get the horses ready. Brenna had overslept, complaining of a sick headache.
Now as everyone filed from the house and he started to help load the wagon, he began to feel anxious. As Eidra lifted Astrid up to Ingrid in the wagon bed she smiled at him and in that moment all he wished was to be within her arms upon their bed free from worry, without a single care.
“Papa,” Fen was leading Agathon by the reins, “Agathon is ready.”
Loki took the reins from his hand, patted his shoulder, “Thank you. Go help your mother.”
The sky was beginning to lighten as they made the main road and turned toward the palace. As they rolled along, they met other wagons, carts, people making their way to the city.
The sun had topped the high mountains when at last they rolled into the courtyard. He gazed about at the servants readying the bier that would bear the Allfather's body all the way to the shore of the western sea.
“Yer Highness.”
He dismounted and turned around to see Colin walking toward him.
“I was up half the night talking to Stark. The other half I couldn't sleep so I rode here early this morning to wait for you.”
They clasped forearms, “ 'Tis a pity you should witness such a sobering aspect of Asgard but I am grateful for your company.”
“I am at yer service.” Colin called, giving Brenna his hand to steady her as she jumped from the wagon.
A royal guardsman came to attention before them, “The King awaits your presence in the royal chambers, your Highness.”
Loki nodded to Eidra then gestured for the guard, “See to my family until I return,” Taking a deep breath, he started for the stone steps leading to the open palace doors.