Chapter Text
The Doctor told them of the Time War. Of the Daleks, of the Time Lords, of the Ultimate Sanction.
He watched as their eyes widened with horror, even brave Halfborn and unflinching Mallory. At one point, Sam even began to cry.
His words drew hoarse the longer he spoke, pain and self-loathing leaching out of his every pore. No one spoke as he finished. They just sat there as he sobbed, hearts wrenching cries of lost children.
Eventually, T.J., Mallory, and Halfborn retreated away to the upper decks despite the cold, leaving Magnus, Blitz, Hearth, Sam, and Alex awkwardly sitting beside him.
Suddenly, Hearthstone stood up, but instead of making his exit, he moved towards the Doctor. He half-expected the elf to sign something like You okay? or Sorry. But he didn’t. Instead, he opened his arms in a way the Doctor had never quite seen him do before.
Tentatively, he accepted the movement and allowed Hearth to wrap his arms around him.
They sat like that for a while. There was horror in his eyes, sure, but there was something deeply understanding there too. Sure, Hearth had never been through anything like what the Doctor had. But what he had been through…well, it was reminiscent enough.
Finally, they released, the Doctor and Hearthstone sat back down, which seemed to give permission to the others to speak.
“Doctor, I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered.
“Yeah.”
She bit her lip, not entirely knowing what to do with that response. No one did.
I’m going to sleep, Hearth signed, which seemed to give everyone permission to nod along and take their exit until the only two left were him and the Doctor.
They forgive you. He signed.
I know.
You don’t want them to.
He didn’t respond, staring blankly across the room, watching in his periphery.
You are not alone. He promised. As much as you want to be.
He smiled, inclining his head to indicate acknowledgement.
No one bothered them for the rest of the night.
Everyone seemed to walk on eggshells around the Doctor after that. The whole ship was horribly tense whenever he even got in the vague proximity of anyone except for Hearthstone, really. The Doctor was drained to the bone, so for the first couple days, it didn’t bother him so much. By day three it was beginning to get irritating.
Fortunately, that was the very same day that T.J. called from the halyard, “Hey! Land!”
Everyone gathered together on the prow of the Big Banana. Before them spread a vast flat landscape of red and gold.
“That’s not Boston.” Magnus noted.
“Well observed, Magnus,” the Doctor said. Instantly, the whole boat tensed. He rolled his eyes, “Well, it’s certainly not Midgard, and if our ship followed the currents Naglfar would have taken…”
“We’re landing in Vigridr,” Mallory realized. “The Last Battlefield. This is the place where we’ll all die someday.”
“Should we…turn the boat around?” Magnus asked awkwardly.
“No,” Sam said, staring out at the docks on the shore, one of which held a group of figures, all stood in waiting, “Magnus, I think this is where we get rewarded.”
The abandoned shore was built up with a massive boardwalk containing thousands of empty kiosks and kilometers of stanchions for queuing, with signs pointing this way and that for things like Jotuns, Aesir, Will Call, and School Groups.
The dock the Big Banana seemed to be heading towards featured a large red sign with a stylized bird and a large number five. Beneath, in English and in runes, the sign read: REMEMBER, YOU PARKED AT RAVEN FIVE! HAVE A NICE RAGNAROK!
Many gods stood in attendance at the dock. The Doctor spottedFrigg in her cloud-white dress and glowing war help, her bag of knitting supplies under one arm. She smiled kindly at Mallory as they began to dismount the ship.
“My daughter, I knew you would succeed!”
Whether she meant that she had seen it in a vision or that she simply had faith in her child, the Doctor wasn’t sure.
Heimdall too was in attendance, grinning at the workmanship of the ship, “I saw you coming from five miles away! That yellow boat. WOW.”
Thor looked like he’d just woken up. His red hair was flat on one side, his face creased with pillow marks. Mjolnir was hung at his belt, attached to his breeches with a bike chain. “I hear you insulted Loki into a little two-inch-tall man? Good work!”
His wife, Sif, rushed to embrace Alex, “My dear, you look lovely. Is that a new sweater vest?”
Indeed, it seemed while the Doctor had been under the ship, Blitzen had taught Alex how to knit a chainmail sweater vest. It did look quite good.
A large man with dark skin, a glistening bald scalp, and black leather armor offered his hand to T.J. –the god’s right hand was missing, the wrist covered in a gold cap. “My son. You’ve done well.”
T.J.’s mouth fell open. “Dad?”
“Take my hand.”
“I –”
“I challenge you to take my hand,” the god Tyr amended.
“I accept!” T.J. allowed himself to be hauled onto the dock.
Odin was wearing a three-piece suit in charcoal gray chain mail that, if the Doctor had to hazard a guess, had been custom-made by Blitzen himself. His beard was neatly trimmed, his eye patch gleaming like stainless steel. His ravens, Thought and Memory, perched on his shoulders, their black feathers complimenting the jacket beautifully in a way only Blitz could have designed.
“Hearthstone,” he said. “Well done with the rune magic, lad. Those visualization tricks I taught you must have really paid off!”
Hearth smiled weakly.
From the back of the crowd, two other gods pushed forward. Freya and Frey made their way to the front of the dock.
“Oh, Blitzen, my beautiful boy!” Freya beamed, crying red-gold tears as she embraced her son.
Beside her, stood Frey in his battered jeans and flannel shirt.
“Magnus.” He said.
“Hey, Dad.” Magnus waved awkwardly.
Frey reached over and hesitantly patted his son’s arm, “Good job. Really.”
The Doctor could see his pendant tug and Magnus brought Jack out.
“Hi Jack,” the sword said, pulsing with irritation, mimicking Frey’s deep voice, “How you doing, Jack, old buddy?”
Frey winced. “Hello, Sumarbrander. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. You said the same thing on Sword Day –didn’t even get me a card! Magnus already promised me a brand new sharpening – did you ever sharpen me? Not even once! Not even on Sword Day!”
Frey’s eyes turned soft and sad as he watched Jack’s interaction with Magnus, “You’re right, Jack.”
Jack’s runes blinked, though no sound came out, as if his speech had short-circuited.
“You’re a good sword and a good sword deserves a good friend.” He smiled. “And it looks like you’ve found one.”
If ever a sword could smile, that’s exactly what Jack did.
“Friends!” Odin called. “Let us retire to our feasting tent on the field of Vigridr! I have reserved tent Lindworm Seven! That’s Lindworm Seven. If you get lost, follow the mauve arrows. Once there” his expression turned brooding –”we will discuss the fate of all living things.”
The Doctor grimaced. He had a decision to make.
The feast tent was set up in the middle of the field of Vigridr, which was a long walk from the docks. Fortunately, Odin had arranged for a small fleet of golf carts.
The Doctor sat on the back, Magnus and Alex in the front, watching them pass grasslands of red and gold and every so often a river, hill, and stand of trees.
Still, no one would look him in the eye.
The pavilion itself was made of cured leather, the sides open, the main hearth blazing, and the tables laden with food.
The gods sat at the thanes’ table, as was expected. Despite wishing nothing more than to take the walnut and slip into the background, the Doctor joined them. If he was to help dictate what to do with Loki, he needed to regain some of that illusion of power.
Once everyone was settled and the mead was poured, Odin pronounced in a grave voice: “Bring forth the walnut!”
Mallory rose. With a quick glance at Frigg, who nodded encouragement, she walked to the freestanding stone pedestal in front of the hearth, setting down the walnut before returning to her seat.
The gods all leaned forward. Thor glowered. Tyr laced his left-hand fingers with the phantom digits on his right hand. Frey stroked his blond beard.
“Is Loki quite secure?” Tyr asked, eyeing the nut. “He won’t pop out and challenge me to personal combat?”
He sounded almost wistful, as if he’d been dreaming of that possibility.
“The walnut holds him,” Frigg said. “At least until we return him to his chains.”
“Something that is still up for discussion,” the Doctor reminded her.
“Oh, please, your personal history with him clouds your judgment.”
“Regardless, I get say just like everyone else here.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I say I should just smash him right now!” Thor snarled, raising his hammer. “Save us all a lot of trouble.”
“Honey,” Sif said, “we’ve talked about this.”
“Indeed,” said Odin, his ravens squawking their agreement on the back of his throne. “My noble son Thor, we’ve been over this approximately eight thousand six hundred and thirty times. I’m not sure you’re using strategies for active listening. We cannot change our foretold destinies.”
Thor huffed. “Well, what’s the use of being a god, then? I’ve got a perfectly good hammer and this nut is just begging to be cracked! Why not CRACK it?”
Suddenly, to everyone’s surprise, Magnus spoke.
“Maybe…” he said nervously, “I dunno…we could come up with a more secure place to keep him, at least? Like –I’m just thinking aloud here –a maximum security prison with actual guards? And chains that aren’t made from the intestines of his sons? Or, you know, we could just avoid the intestine thing altogether…”
Odin chuckled, “Magnus Chase, you and your friends have acted bravely and nobly. Now you must leave matters to the gods. We cannot change Loki’s punishment in any meaningful way. We can only restore it to what it was, so that the great sequence of events leading to Ragnarok will be held in check. At least for now.”
“The serpent is dead and the bonds have been cut, Odin,” the Doctor pointed out. “Fate has already been changed.”
“We will not let him go free, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I will not ask for that,” the Doctor said honestly, “Reforge the bonds with the strongest of metals. Put up new enchantments to hide his location and prevent further breaches. But let there be no more serpents dripping poison. Let there be no more intestines of his children. And his wife, Sigyn…”
The gods all raised a collective eyebrow.
“If she so wishes, she should be allowed back at her husband’s side.”
“I don’t believe it would do any harm,” Freya spoke up, “I believe that she means well.”
It seemed there was no evidence to the contrary.
“Very well,” Odin decided. “Sigyn may stay with Loki if she wishes. The enchantments will be crafted and the chains forged by the best dwarven smiths there are.”
“And the serpent?” The Doctor asked.
The gods all exchanged a look.
“As it stands, the serpent will not be replaced.” Odin decided, “However, if there is any evidence of plotting or scheming…”
The Doctor bowed his head, “That’s all I ask.”
Odin looked up at the crowd, “Are there any other questions about Loki’s punishment?”
No one answered. Not a single god raised objections or pulled out weapons.
“I must say,” Frya noted, “this is the best godly meeting we’ve had in centuries.” She glanced at Magnus and the crew, “We try to avoid having too many of us together in one place. It usually leads to trouble.”
“The last time was the flyting with Loki,” Thor grumbled. “In Aegir’s hall.”
Magnus suddenly frowned.
“Lord Odin,” he said, “I –I was supposed to bring Aegir a sample of Kvasir’s Mead, as payment for him sort of not killing us and sort of letting us go, but –”
“Never fear, Magnus Chase,” Odin said, “I will speak with Aegir on your behalf. I may even grant him a small sample of Kvasir’s Mead from my special reserve supply, assuming he’ll put me on the list for his Pumpkin Spice.”
“And me,” Thor said.
“And me,” said the other gods, raising their hands.
Magnus blinked. “You…have a special reserve supply of Kvasir’s Mead?”
“Of course!” said Odin.
He stared into space, as if only now realizing the wild goose chase the gods had sent him on. Welcome to running godly errands, Magnus Chase.
“Well, then!” Odin pounded his fist on the table. “I agree with Freya. This meeting has gone surprisingly well. We will take the walnut. We will send you heroes back to Valhalla to enjoy a great feast in your honor. Any other business before we adjourn?”
“Lord Odin,” Frey said. “My son and his friends have done us a great service. Shouldn’t we…reward them? Isn’t that customary?”
“Hmm.” Odin nodded. “I suppose you’re right. I could make them all einherjar in Valhalla! But, ah, most of them already are.”
“And the rest of us,” Sam added quickly, “would like to stay alive a little longer, Lord Odin, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, there you are!” Odin said. “As a reward, our living heroes will get to stay alive! I’ll also give you each five autographed copies of my new book, Motivational Heroism. As for the einherjar, in addition to the celebratory feast and the books, I’ll throw in a complimentary Hotel Valhalla Turkish bathroom for each of you! Eh?”
Odin seemed very pleased with himself and no one bothered to complain, all simply glad to have not all perished.
“Finally, Magnus Chase,” said the All-Father, “I understand you were the one who stood toe-to-toe with Loki and took the brunt of his withering insults. Would you ask any special boon of the gods?”
Magnus took a moment to process this offer, looking around at his friends.
Suddenly, he looked back at Odin.
“Actually, Lord Odin, there is one favor I would ask.”
