Loki and Ingrid 49

Let Bygones by Bygones

Blink. And you’d miss it. An entire world, an entire realm, obliterated. Nothing stopping there. No business of mine. It wasn’t my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have said anything, of course it was my fault. I should have let Sif die. One soul for thousands. Why did I fuck up? Oh yeah, because of Ingrid, the little bitch, that’s why. That’s why I fucked up. And her obnoxious boyfriend who happens to be my brother—I won’t have it. I may have not cared for Jotunheim, may have said once I hated it, but as much as everyone thinks I’m a cold-hearted bastard, I couldn’t handle destroying an entire planet. That’s on me now. I’d much rather obliterate Zephenare and their fucked-up class system and child abuse…but then I think of the innocent victims, the children like me. Not so innocent anymore, Lydvor. Dodged a bullet on that one. I laugh, a cold laugh. It’s not funny. I just don’t want to be here. I wish there was a way I could destroy all the evil people and spare the innocent. With a blink of an eye. No, the snap of a finger.

***

I hate waiting. I always hated it, maybe, always wished for something to happen, no matter what it was. Always sat bored in the castle walls. Always daydreaming. And that is why, flying a lone ship, I am so sick of waiting, waiting to get to Asgard and clean things up. Make it pretty and clean. Put on the act that we’ve had it together for almost four years. My, it really has been that long, hasn’t it? Eighteen-year-old naïve Ingrid going to Svartelheim with Loki and Thor. And Jane, I almost forgot her. It started before, long before, but that was the beginning of the end. Little did I know what I was in for. I have to wonder what my life would have been if I had chosen a different path, naïve to Thanos’ schemes. I have to wonder if I’d never talked to Loki at all. I have to wonder if it was all worth it. I have to wonder how I’m even still alive. How we got this far. How I’ve grown so much but also stayed the same. How I’m here, not, preparing for the gauntlet, how death seems like an inevitability for both of us, how this is the path I chose. What Calder would think of me, what Lyd—

          No, I can’t think about her. She betrayed me. She betrayed us. She betrayed all of Jotunheim. She almost had us killed. For all I know, she could be relishing in our demise.

          “It’s all gone. Obliterated. I fear what they can do to other worlds if they possess this power.”

          I nod. I’m not surprised, really. I feel deep down there has to be another explanation. Why Lyd would do this…

***

“You shouldn’t have done that, Lyd,” says Sif, “But thank you.”

          “Hide!” I command her. Go to the outmost realms where no one can find you. Stay alert. I give her a tracking devise as I send a single transmission back to Ingrid.
“Sif is safe. She is going into hiding.”

          “What about you?” It’s Ingrid. She doesn’t sound resentful, just exhausted.

          “I must choose my own path.”

          “Why did you do it?”

          “I wouldn’t let you die. I was trying to find a way out. They were going to kill Sif, and I didn’t want you to be angry.” I snap and hang up. I don’t have time for this anymore. Should I? Would I dare? Yes. I have a sickly smile on my face. And I don’t care how many people I have to kill to get the stones. I will get them. And use them to kill everyone evil in the universe. To bring justice and light.

***

The castle somehow feels smaller than I remembered it, or maybe I’m just bigger. I inhale deeply, smelling old books, secrets within the walls. It may well be soon, when it could all be destroyed. Anything can happen now. Anything at all.

          “This is stupid,” says Loki.

          “It was your idea.”

          “The Odin guise? That was four years ago. I was a very different person.”

          “I know. Me too.”

          “I’m sorry it has to be this way.”        

          “What do you mean, Loki?”

          “They’re going to come for me before too long. I said you have to run if they come for me.”

          “No, I don’t,” I whisper, “I already said I wasn’t.”

          “You promised me, Ingrid. A promise is a promise.”

          I catch my breath. “I could never live with it if anything happened to you, and I wasn’t there to help.”

          “And I couldn’t live with anything happening to you trying to protect me—this is already too much. I told you to hide.”

          “And I’m not listening.” I say abruptly walking back into the throne room. “Go address the people. Throw parties. Enjoy yourself while you can. Try to.”

          It sounds harsh, but I leave, quietly. I don’t sit in the throne room. I don’t do anything. I’m not royalty, never was. It doesn’t matter. Loki loves me for who I am. I realize that now. Maybe too much. Maybe it got us both in trouble, but in the end….

          I trail off as I walk through the familiar castle passages, past Loki’s old room. I gather a few of my things. I don’t know when I will need to escape quickly. I stop before the door to my old room. Still strewn with glass, garments, and garbage. I haven’t been here in so long. There’s nothing here anymore. I quietly close the door. I won’t be needing it. Asgard itself may be in danger. A little room in a castle barely seems like a thing of importance. And yet…

***

“Ingrid? I knew you’d come.” He’s sitting in the same place he always sat, but something is different. As his eyes look up to meet mine, I see it. It’s no longer the soft look of innocence, no longer the gleam of naïve ambition, no longer the curiosity of the boy lost in the woods I once knew. Instead, I’m met with the hardened look of someone who has seen a thousand faces, all leading back to him. There is no way to win. My eyes are met with a look of fear, yes, but also resolve, as if he knows what’s coming to him, eyes that have seen all too much.

          I realize it now, once and for all. This isn’t a game. We can’t cheat for death forever. Soon, nowhere will be safe. Soon, all realms will be in immediate danger, first from Hela, then Thanos. For a second, I can see into his mind, a million visions all leading to a dark ship, floating through the deep void of space. And at once, I hear the laugh.

          “Don’t worry, Ingrid. It’s all in your head.”

          I snap out of it, but I’m already too far gone. I can feel the cold hopelessness seeping through me. “Did I just read your mind?”

          “I projected the visions to you. You need to understand.”

          I raise my hand, “Say no more.”

          “I can sense that you understand.”

          I nod.

          “We have weeks, maybe days—”

          “I know.”

          “Thor will return.”

          Somehow, I don’t feel the sense of assurance I usually do when I hear his name. Instead, I fear for him. Thor is strong, but Thanos is stronger.

          “It’ll be okay.”

          “Why are you reassuring me?” I’m quiet.

          “You’re right.”

          “I’ll be talking to Thor.”

          “Yeah, you said he’s—”

          “I just hope I get the chance to make it right.”

          “I don’t want to think like this.”

          “You know you don’t have a choice. You have to face reality. I don’t have a locket this time.”

          “I—”

          “Ingrid trust me.”

          All is quiet. “I do trust you. It’s just that I don’t trust myself.” I realize it now. How will I live…? No, I can’t think like that. It’s impossible. Then I hear it again. The laugh. And I remember how strong he is.

          “You have to escape when they come for me.”

          I nod. I can’t speak. I don’t know how to thank him for everything…I don’t want to do it, but he’s right. If I stayed, I’d be killed. And then there would be no good in that. I know a lot about Thanos’ minions. I’ve seen them. Maybe I can devise some plan. Help Thor and Sif. And Lyd…I want her to come back. She soon might be the only person I can trust. I know Lyd. I know there was another reason.

          “You’re getting sidetracked. You want to thank me.”

          “Stop reading my mind—” but then I realize how I am going to miss it. I’m going to miss having someone to understand me without words. I was never good at communicating my thoughts. Not now, not ever.

          “You’re a good writer, Ingrid.”

          “Stop!” I pull away. “I’m sorry.”        

          “You aren’t sorry. You don’t need to be sorry. You’re defiant. Your attitude is what I like about you, well, one of the things.”

          “Thanks. No, really—for everything.”

          “I didn’t do anything other than get your in loads of trouble.”

          I swallow hard. “It was the fun kind.”        

          “No.”

          “I—”

          “Being tortured isn’t fun.”

          I nod. I know that. I didn’t mean—“But it was worth it.”

          “Was it though?”

          “Yes.” I’ve mentally answered my previous question. “No reason to dwell on what might have been.”

          “If I were you, I would have run away a long time ago.”

          I nod.

          “Thank you. For not running away. But now, I’m asking you, pleading you, to run.”

          I nod again. I know what I have to do. And that’s the hardest thing.

          “I promised I’d be there. Always. But I also promised I’d run.”

          “I know. There’s a time and a place.”

          “Thank you,” I whisper, “For being you, just the way you are.”