I did not send this one—but oh, that is an idea…
loki-thesilvertongue you have been bunninated
And what, precisely, am I to do with a rabbit?
…no, never mind. I have ideas. I am the God of Mischief, after all.
You had her tricks, but I had her trust! Trust? Was that her last expression, trust? While you let her die? What good were you in your cell? Who put me there? WHO PUT ME THERE?
Punching Loki hard on the nose sounded like a really good idea just now. Thor had never seen him look and act so smug in the face of such dire circumstances. He refrained, only because he did not want to put Sigyn and his mother in the middle of a possible brawl. Also, if he became the first one to throw a punch, Loki would likely refuse even the possibility of helping.
Thor glanced at his sister-in-law, who was looking more upset by the minute. Only the Norns could possibly know what she was holding back. He then looked to his mother, almost silently asking why she was not currently shaming Loki for being such an ass.
He took a few calming breaths and unclenched his fists. “There is no guarantee of our survival. There is only a chance of it, which is better than waiting here where there is a certainty of death. There is no hard evidence that the Aether can or cannot be destroyed, so even that is a risk. It may be that the only thing we can do is distract Malekith until the Convergence has past its peak. And I am asking you to risk your life because we need your skills, and because you are indebted to two people standing in this room. Will you help, or will you not?”
Loki tilted his head, listening. The amount of risk Thor was asking was positively mad—and even having courted madness himself, Loki was not about to go charging into almost certain death for the sake of the mortal woman who had caused all this trouble. But Mother would likely shout if he didn’t think of some way of helping…
"Fine," Loki snapped. "I will help—on a few conditions. One: I am not your mortal’s minder, and I am certainly not risking life or limb to save her. She is your responsibility. Two: If either of you do anything foolish—or more foolish than this already is—do not expect my help with it. I am not sacrificing myself to your idiocy. Also, you will be doing the majority of distracting, if it comes to that. You have certainly never had a problem calling attention to yourself before, in battle or not.”
He glanced at Frigga for a moment, who looked slightly exasperated, but nodded. Well, better she was annoyed for him taking precautions than in mourning because they had not.
"That is my final word, Thor. No more bargaining. Accept and I will show you the only other way to Svartalfheim—decline and you may find it yourself. I will even give you a hint—it is that way."
He pointed vaguely towards the wall that hid a spectacular view of Asgard’s mountains. “Well?”
- Maker: Emanuel Pioté (Austrian, Vienna 1781–1865)
- Decorator: Jacob H. Köchert (Austrian, Vienna 1795–1868)
- Dated: circa 1825
- Culture: Austrian, Vienna
- Medium: steel, gold, enamel, agate, wood, leather
- Measurements: overall lenght 26 15/16 inches (68.5 cm)
- Inscription: (engraved on face of blade) Vivat / Carolus 6 / Imperator / et Rex Boh. / 1723 (with Austrian double-headed eagle crowned); (around upper rim of locket) Piote & Kochert / Jouilliers de la Cour / à Vienne
- Marking: Arms: (top of hilt) Hoyos Sprinzenstein; (on chape), Imperial arms of Austri
This richly decorated sword was made for one of the counts Hoyos-Sprinzenstein. His enameled coat of arms surmounts the lion-headed pommel. The scabbard locket is inscribed “Pioté et Köchert,” the leading Viennese jewelers of the nineteenth century.
I honestly do not remember if this was me or not. It might have been—straightening my hair is quite an effort, which is why I hardly bother anymore.
RE: ADDRESSING CONFUSION
Apparently many of you are under the impression that I have had dealings with another ‘superhero’ who calls himself Spiderman. I can assure you that this is not the case—I have no desire to interact with anyone who claims any sort of identity or affinity with spiders.