Loki and Ingrid 21

Liar Liar

“No, no, no! We are not blowing anything up!”

          “You tried to destroy my entire realm, you’re one to talk!”

          “Shut up!” Loki throws a concealing spell towards Lydvor.

          “What are you doing?”

          “I don’t think that more civilized civilizations would want to see a Frost Giant flying a spaceship.”

          “You made me blonde, Loki,” groans Lydvor, “Blondes can go die!”

          “You can go die!”

          “We’re all going to die if you don’t stop!” I scream, reaching for the button.

          “Nononononono, Loki’s girlfriend, my ship you hear, my ship!”

          “My name’s Ingrid. And I’m not his girlfriend.”

          “I’ve got this!” she shouts, pressing the button. The ship begins to shake and rattle. “Whoops. Wrong button.”

          “I swear you are going to get yourself killed? Who do you think you are, a ravager? Not that that would be anything to brag about—”

          “Are we dying?” I can hear myself shout over the clamour.

          “Not yet! The ship isn’t supposed to be going at this speed out here! We’re hurtling towards the patrol ship waaay too fast—and now they’re shooting at us!”    “Your problem. I only came with you to see what it is you want. You’re crazy for asking me to return, you know that.”

          “This is no time to have a civil discussion!” Lydvor screams, reaching for a different button on the ship and pressing it, firing at the border patrol ship. It rebounds, as the smaller ships begin shooting in a frenzy and Lydvor swerves, almost hitting one of the ships.

          “Are you crazy? You’re supposed to know how to fly this thing!” shouts Loki, reaching for the control panel and firing rapidly. “Reminds me of the time I was in a ship with my other sibling and we couldn’t fly it. Except he was less of an idiot and that’s saying something!”          

          “Who’s an idiot?”

          “You!”

          “The other idiot—ow!”

          “My brother!”

          “We don’t have a brother!”

          “You don’t—unless you mutated into two people or something—”

          “Just because you were kidnapped doesn’t mean—”

          “Shut it, okay! What did your father ever do for you?”

          Lydvor kicks back in the passenger chair and crosses her arms. “Wait, I’m confused. So, we don’t have the same father? There’s this thing about genetics, you know, dork.”

          “It’s a—touchy subject,” I suffice to say, but she isn’t having it.

          “Or does he mean his ‘adoptive’ father, that no-good Odin? Asgardians are just really dumb.”

          “I was top of my class in literature and Asgardian history,” I say, calmly, as the patrol spaceship explodes in flames.

          “Asgard’s skewed history,” says Lydvor, “All lies.”

          “To think they speak of a peaceful conquest—” starts Loki, “Anyway, you’re welcome. Learn how to fly your own ship.”

          “Conquests by nature are not peaceful,” I remind him, “But I hear you. Just how many people did your father kill?”     

          “We don’t talk about that,” says Lydvor quickly.

          “Not as many as my sister.”

          “What?!”

          “My other sister—, the one I’m not supposed to talk about she’s kind of a secret, a shame to the family—”

          “What am I doing on a spaceship with you anyway? Can I just open the hatch and throw you out into space, you worthless—”

          “I can survive in space, I tried that.”

          “Opening the hatch? Don’t try it. Seriously.”

          “No, the falling-into-space bit. Back when I actively wanted to die.”

          “You mean before I had to run from six of my family members? Don’t talk about your family, you’ve seen nothing. Be glad you were stolen—or adopted or whatever.”

          “Where to?”

          “Set the course for Xandar. Autopilot. We need to talk.”

          “I don’t do so well talking to crazy family members—”

          “Fine. I’m crazy. I’m not family, whatever. I’m just some alien I met down the street, Asgardian.”

          “I’m not—”

          “Right. The whole DNA thing. But you’ve been raised to make me your worst enemy.”

          “Well, I haven’t killed you yet.”

          “Right. Whatever. Stop messing with me. I need to get a straight answer out of you. Why did you try to destroy Jotunheim anyway?”

          “We don’t talk about—”

          “Yes. We. Do!” Lydvor is advancing now, pointing her pipe straight at Loki.

          “That’s not a weapon.”

          “And neither is that wavy hand sorcery thing. Tell me, brother—”

          “Don’t give me war flashbacks. I sent Thor on his merry way.”

          “Oh, you miss him, don’t you?”

          “What? Of course not. I wanted to impress my father—my adoptive father Odin, to prove that I was the worthy son to rule the throne—after he lied to me!”     

          “Don’t talk to me about it. Why, really?”

          “I hate them. I hate all of them.”       

          “Me too, what do you think I’m doing hopping around systems with a shipload of loot—whoops.” I hear a grinding and scraping sound as the ship slows to a halt. “It’s fine, little malfunction. Anyway, I was just hoping you’d be more willing to rule than me, since you actually want to be king.”        

          “Not Jotunheim. Turn these ship’s lasers on it for all I care.”

          “I would, but I’m outta ammo. Hey! Who turned out the lights!”

          The entire spaceship is now pitch-black as all of the power sources have suddenly shut off. The eerie silence that follows from the engines dying is unsettling, and I suddenly wish I was back on Asgard.

          “Jotunheim can burn. I figured I’d be king of Asgard—it took too long.”

          “Oh, Asgard’s just as bad, actually.”

          “I can’t see you. This is weird.”

          “Yeah. It’ll be back on soon. Cast a spell or quit complaining.”

          “I don’t feel like it.”

          “Stop being a baby!”

          “You’re the youngest, are you not? And yes, I hate Asgard. But I have met a select few Asgardians that were worth my time. And I can’t say the same about my own race.”

          “Well, I guess the hate is mutual. I’d open the hatch if I had any nerve.”

          “I wouldn’t recommend it—what’s that?”

          Voices shouting in an alien dialect can be heard now through on the outside of the ship. There’s more scraping, than a flashlight blinding my eyes. “Get back!” One of them grunts, in my language, recognizing us.

          “Oh yea, about that—"I can hear Lydvor now, “I guess I have the anulax batteries—just gimme a minute—”

          “The what?” I can’t help but ask.

          “Shut up, Asgardian, I’m smuggling for these guys. Kraig and Grina.”

          “Wait, they have names?” I take a step back, “And one of them is a girl?”

          The second alien begins shouting, “I’M NOT A GIRL YOU STUPID ASGRADIAN!”

          “Right. An incredibly adept woman. Correct,” snaps Lydvor, “We’re wasting time.”
          “Thanks for abducting my ship, Kraig,” sighs Lydvor, “But I have the anulax batteries right here.”

          “Who’s this?” The flashlight shines on Loki. “Another Asgardian or one of your own? I know it’s you Lydvor, the disguise is—nice. I like it.”

          “It’s complicated.”

          “Wait, I know you! You’re the kid who tried to destroy Midgard! Still got those stones?”       

          “Not another one—Lyd!”

          “Since when—”

          “Punch him in the face and get this stupid ship back to space.”

          And she did.

---

“Good work. Now finish telling me about how you hate me and my family is horrible and Asgard is the worst place in the galaxy, it’s really entertaining.”

          Lydvor puts the ship back on autopilot and turns to stare at Loki.

          “Stop.”

          “No. Since when did you call me ‘Lyd?’”

          “Since now. And now that I know you hate it—”

          “Stop, really. It’s annoying.”

          “You’re annoying.”

          “You don’t have any better insults.”

          “I’m tired I guess. Thank you for rudely removing me in the middle of our moment—Now if you’ll excuse me, I should get back to Asgard.”

          “Not until you tell me everything? Why all this love for your adoptive family? And regret? Regret about sending your father to Earth?”

          “How did you know that? —You can read minds?”

          “Yeah. Frost Giant tech and abilities, duh.”

          “I always thought my mother—adoptive—taught me from a young age. But I guess I always knew—anyway get out of my head!”

          “Fine. But really, you should hate them. They kidnapped you. And lied about it.”

          “I do, most of the time, but it’s better than the alternative. What did Laufey ever do for you? You don’t look like you were raised to be a Jotun queen, but you can pack a punch—unfortunately. He left me for dead! What did you get? Games of chess? Royal banquets?”

          “And you got those on Asgard, you privileged, privileged boy,” Lyd puts on a posh accent and turns up her nose. “But really, I’ve been pretty much on my own since I was five, Laufey didn’t pay attention to me at all, but my mother—we don’t have the same mother, tried to raise me to be a princess, and I hated every minute of it. I left when I was five and been galaxy hopping ever since. Oh, I’ve been keeping a close eye on you.”

          “I’m sorry, but I didn’t even know you existed. And you have no regrets for leaving so young.”       

          “You said something, didn’t you? Something you don’t want to relive? Your mother was watching the whole time, she knew you never loved her—”       

          “GET OUT OF MY HEAD! And you’re lying!”

          “Fine. You don’t have to stay on Jotunheim, but there’s something we need to do—”

          “Alright, I’ll come. Let us return to Asgard to make sure Sif didn’t kill anyone yet and get Ingrid’s coat. Oh, and please don’t kill my subjects. That would leave a bad taste in their mouths. They might even bring my brother back.”

          “I haven’t met this brother of yours, but I already hate him.”

          “That’s fine. So, do I.” But we all know he’s lying.