by Dena Christy
His shower took as long today as it did on any other day, and he stepped out and dried himself with ruthless efficiency. He padded into the bedroom and stood in front of the open door of his closet. The suits he wore every day hung in neat order. He reached out and grabbed his navy blue Armani suit, chose a crisp white dress shirt and a blue and silver striped tie.
Once he was dressed, he looked at himself in the full-length mirror standing beside the closet and flicked an imaginary piece of lint from his lapel. He tucked a folded handkerchief in his breast pocket. His short hair had dried, and it took only moments to brush it into place. He turned away from the mirror, satisfied that he presented the correct image and put on his best dress shoes.
It was a short trip toward his front door, and as he reached for the knob he took one last look around his home. Maybe it was time to sell the place and go somewhere else, far from here. This home had been his sanctuary, but now it was just a house. The emptiness of it mocked him, and he turned away, shoving down the memory of the woman who’d come back into his life only to leave it again.
He walked out his front door and closed it behind him with a decisive slam and walked to his car. It’s just another day, he thought as he stabbed his key into the ignition. The drive to work took as long as it always did, and if he shoved everything from his mind, he could almost convince himself that he would make this drive tomorrow. He pulled into the parking lot, pulling into the spot reserved for him. He got out of his car and turned toward the building, stopping in his tracks at the sight that greeted him.
Every member of the Order who worked for him stood in an organized group as if waiting for him. He scanned their faces, hardly willing to believe their show of loyalty. They’d all been fired, and there was nothing to compel them to be here, and yet they came anyway. He swallowed hard at the lump that wanted to form in his throat.
“Well look at you,” Eric said and Cadric turned his gaze to the wolf who stood near the front of the group with Samara at his side. He could guess that he was here because he didn’t want Samara to come without him. “I would have dressed a lot nicer if I’d known we were going to the prom.”
Cadric squeezed his lips together for a moment, to keep from smiling at the smirking werewolf. At least his irreverence prevented him from breaking down in front of his people and had given him an opportunity to regain his composure. He strode forward until he stood in front of Hadria, who was at the front of the group with Nick beside her.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” he said quietly.
While he appreciated the show of loyalty, he couldn’t allow them to endanger themselves for his sake. As he glanced over the group, his eyes locked with Roger’s, who gave him a solemn nod. Many of them had lost so much already, he couldn’t let them sacrifice any more.
“The Order of Odin is ours,” Hadria said with steel in her voice. There was a murmur of assent from the group, and he knew that Hadria spoke for them all. “We will not let a bunch of mongrels take it from us. They can try to stop us if they want, but they will feel the full weight of our strength if they do.”
Cadric looked over the group, taking in the sight of their determination to back him. Nothing he could say would sway them, he knew that just by looking at them. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to convince them to leave. While he knew that there was nothing they could do to stop the machine that Loki had set in motion, he appreciated that they would be with him when it was all over.
He led the way toward the building, and his crew fell in behind him.
“We should totally be jamming Eye of the Tiger,” Eric said quietly, and for the first time since he’d woken this morning, Cadric let a smile touch his lips.
They made their way into the tower house, and through the tunnels into the building. No one tried to stop them, and they made it inside the building as a group. They came to the corridor outside the room where the tribunal was being held and drew to a halt. Two werewolves guarded the door, and one stepped forward, facing Cadric at the head of the group.
“Only you are allowed in here,” he said as his gaze swept over the group.
Cadric stepped forward and drew himself up to his full height. He towered over the guard by several inches, and to his credit the werewolf didn’t back down.
“Do you want to keep them out?” he asked, and the guard peeked around him to look over the group again. He exchanged a look with the other guard, shrugged his shoulders and stepped aside.
Cadric pushed on the closed double doors, opening them wide and he strode into the room, tall and proud with his people filing into the room behind him. He looked directly at Loki, wearing his Miach disguise, and he marveled that he hadn’t realized who he really was sooner. He tightened his jaw as he took his seat at the front of the room, across from his enemy. He didn’t need to look behind him to see his people had filled every available space behind him. There was a twist to Loki’s mouth when his eyes swept over the crowd.
He met Cadric’s eyes, and Cadric elevated an eyebrow, schooling his features into a cool mask.
“We going to get on with this?” he asked dryly.
Loki’s face hardened for a moment, and satisfaction swept over Cadric when he saw the god’s mask slip for just a moment. A look of comprehension crossed Loki’s face, and he must have known that Cadric knew who he really was. A smirk crossed his face, and the satisfaction Cadric felt melted away, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue as his hand clenched into a fist where it rested on his lap. It was evident to both of them that while Cadric may know Loki’s true identity, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
“Since everyone is here, we should begin,” Loki said as he stood. “The committee has decided, and we will now share it with everyone. Cadric Odinson, it is the findings of this tribunal that you are—“
The double doors at the back of the room flew open and slammed against the walls on either side, interrupting Loki’s speech. As one, every person in the room turned toward the noise. Cadric’s heart pounded in his chest as he saw his wife stride into the room, looking every inch the goddess she was. His eyes devoured her, and it took all his will power to remain seated and keep from leaping from his seat and pulling her into his arms. His blood roared in his ears as he watched his father Odin, his brother Thor and a young man who had to be his son Forseti walk in behind her. His heart squeezed in his chest at the sight of his family, who he hadn’t seen since he left Asgard.
“I have something to stay to the committee that will shed light on the proceedings,” Nan said as she walked toward the front of the room. His people moved to the sides of the room, leaving her with a clear space to stand abreast of him at the front of the room. Cadric tore his eyes away from his wife and looked toward his enemy. Rage was evident in Loki’s eyes for a moment, until his face smoothed out and he smirked at Nan.
“There is no time left,” he said with no small amount of satisfaction. “The committee has decided.”
“I think the committee would like to hear what I have to say,” Nan said, undaunted.
“Yes,” Nemesis said, her voice steely as she looked over at Loki, and Cadric could see the first hints of suspicion enter her eyes. “I’d like to hear what she has to say.”
Cadric turned his head and reached out for his wife’s hand. While he appreciated what she was about to do, he couldn’t let her go through with it.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said as when she turned to look at him. She smiled gently at him and pulled her hand from his to reach up and caress his face.
“Yes I do… Cadric,” she said as she turned back to face the front of the room.
In that moment Cadric realized just how much he loved her, had always loved her. A crushing weight descended upon him when he realized that he’d acknowledged his feelings for her when it was too late, because this was his wife’s way of saying goodbye.
* * *
Nan straightened to her full height and faced the gods
sitting at the front of the room. She made eye contact with Loki in his guise as Miach, and she was certain that she was the only one who noticed the subtle shake of his head. Despite what he must believe, it was much too late to stop what they’d both set in motion down in the dungeon he’d been held in for centuries. Perhaps this had all started long before then when Loki had only had eyes for her and she only had eyes for Baldr.
A feeling of peace and rightness flowed through her when seeing her husband in here, surrounded by people whose loyalty he’d earned through years of hard work. She could finally see that these people had become her husband's family, and instead of bitterness at the thought, she was glad he would have the support he deserved once she was out of his life for good. Her love for him filled her with strength, and she relaxed her shoulders. She would say what she needed to say in this room and hoped it was enough.
“Most of you don’t know who I am, but I am Nan Nepsdóttir and the man sitting here facing this tribunal was once my husband Baldr,” she said, her voice filling the silence in the room. A collective gasp went up, and she guessed that her husband had never revealed to his people that he was a god. She looked out over the group as they looked at her husband with shock on their faces. “Sorry for the spoiler.”
They laughed as a group, and some of the oppressive tension in the room eased. She turned back to face the tribunal, and the faces of the gods sitting there remained stoic, except for Loki, whose visage had grown darker with every word she spoke.
“Oh please,” he said, his voice gritty and dark. “Are we going to sit and listen to this nonsense?”
“I believe the goddess Nan has the floor,” Hyperion said, his voice threaded with steel and Loki shut his mouth with a snap and sat back in his chair.
He displayed no nervousness, and she knew him well enough to know that while she could reveal who he was, he would believe that he would escape this and create havoc another time. Little did he realize that before they’d entered the room, Odin had place sigils on the walls outside the room to prevent Loki from flashing away. It was truly the end of the line for him although he did not yet know it.
“Many centuries ago I believed that death had taken my husband from me. Recently it came to my attention that I was mistaken in this belief. I’m ashamed to say that my anger was so great that I committed a terrible act. I freed the god Loki from his prison and asked that he make is so my husband would be forced to return to me. I’m afraid to say that he has done his best to do that.”
She stopped for a moment, feeling like she was standing upon a precipice. Fear tickled the edges of her mind, and for a moment she didn't think she could go on. A warm hand grasped hers, and she looked down in surprise to see that Baldr had reached up and offered his support. She looked down at him, and could see none of the anger or recrimination that she expected to see.
“Nan, please go on,” Nemesis said gently as she looked at her with such understanding that Nan had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat.
“Everything that has happened in the past few weeks, the murder of Dany Cavanaugh and Eduard Rouben, the botched raid on the warehouse and the attack of the families of many of the people sitting in this room directly results from my setting Loki free. I cannot tell you how sorry I am,” Nan said, her voice cracking and she had to clear her throat before she could continue. Her husband gave her hand a gentle squeeze and it was almost her undoing. She pulled her hand away, knowing she wouldn’t be able to finish without breaking down if he continued to support her. She didn’t deserve his forgiveness. “I know that what I’ve done is unforgivable, but I will try to make amends before I face my punishment. This committee has been manipulated by Loki, who has made it look like my husband is responsible for the actions taken by him. He has disguised himself as Miach to ensure that the committee reaches the decision he wants, so that my husband can be stripped of everything he holds dear.”
Silence followed her words, and the members of the committee turned their shocked gazes to Miach. Loki must have known that there was no point to continuing his ruse. He morphed before their eyes and took on his true form. He stood up from his chair and turned his icy blue eyes to look at Nan.
“Your husband may not have done all the things that he has been accused of, but he is guilty none the less. He deserves to have everything stripped from him as his actions in the past caused everything to be stripped from me.”
“It’s over, Loki,” Odin said, his voice deep and grave as he stepped forward with Thor at his side.
Loki closed his eyes for a second, and when nothing happened a look of panic crossed his face.
“Did you think we wouldn’t take precautions to prevent your escape,” Thor said as the corner of his mouth turned up.
The gods on the committee came forward and surrounded Loki, with Hyperion and Honos reaching out to grasp him by the arms. For the first time since this all started, Nan looked at Loki and felt the stirring of pity. He may have grown stronger since his escape from Asgard, but he wasn’t strong enough to overcome the collective power of all the gods in the room. He must have realized it himself, for he straightened and jerked his arms away from the gods who held him.
“I’ll go,” he growled, and he stood waiting for Odin and Thor to take him into their custody. He looked at Nan, and the regret that had plagued her for days intensified. All this was her fault. Loki would be punished, as would she, but none of this would have happened if she had not freed the embittered god.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly to him as Thor and Odin led him past her. They paused for a moment, and she looked into Loki’s eyes as she spoke, knowing her words were small consolation.
A look of surprise crossed his face, and he smiled at her and for a moment she saw the Loki of old, the one who’d been her devoted friend and had hoped for more. The man he’d been before centuries of torture had twisted him into the vengeful god he’d become.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said as he winked. “I had a good run.”
The smile dropped from his face and Odin and Thor led him from the room. The people they past on their way out of the room surged forward, surrounding her husband, and Nan was driven further and further away from him as they crowded around him, congratulating him.
A hand descended on her arm, and she looked up to see her beloved son standing beside her, a look of sadness in his eyes.
“It’s time,” he said solemnly and she let him lead her from the room. Around her the sound of jubilation for her husband told her she’d done the right thing. She and her son reached the door, and she turned back one last time. Baldr was surrounded by his people, accepting their well wishes with humility. She turned back and left the room, going with her son back to Asgard, knowing that she’d made amends and that her husband’s life had been restored to the way it had been before she’d come crashing into it.
“Will you be okay,” her son asked, concern for evident in his voice.
“Everything is as it should be,” she said quietly, and she forced a smile onto her face for his sake. She hoped he wouldn’t notice that her bottom lip trembled slightly as she walked away from the man she loved for the final time.
Chapter 20
Cadric sat at his desk in his office, not seeing what was in front of him. The tribunal had ended a few days ago, and he’d been back to work every day since. His life was back to the way it had been before Nan had come back into it. In the weeks leading up to this he would have told anyone who asked that the Order was everything, and now that he was back at the helm his life would be as it should be. He truly had everything he thought he wanted, but it didn’t stop the gnawing emptiness from making a home in the depths of his soul.
“Are you listening?” Hadria’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked at her startled. She looked at him expectantly, her pen poised over her notebook as she awaited his orders for the day. He’d been in the middle of giving them to her when he’d lost the thread of the conversation and hi
s mind had drifted to Nan, again. He did that more and more of late, and he reached up to rub the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension there.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he dropped his hand back down on top of his desk. “Can we do this later?”
He hated calling her in here for nothing, but he would not get on with what needed to be done today, at least not now.
“Of course,” she said as she closed her notebook and smiled sadly at him. “You look tired. Why don’t you go home?”
He knew she was trying to be helpful, but home was the last place he wanted to be. He shook his head as he looked at Hadria, whose loyalty to him had been proven over and over. He didn’t want to insult her by pretending that being without Nan wasn’t killing him when it was clear to them both that it was.
“I think I’ll stay here for the time being. I see her everywhere I look when I’m home,” he said quietly and for a moment she looked surprised at his candor. She reached out and put her hand on his. He hoped she wouldn’t feed him some platitude about things getting better with time because he didn’t know if he could pretend to believe her.
She let go of his hand after giving it a squeeze and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a necklace with an onyx pendant hanging on the end and elaborate scroll work encasing it. He didn’t need to study it closely to know what it was for. There was only one person who could have given that to her.
“Talk to him,” she said solemnly as she placed the necklace reverently upon the top of his desk. She stood, leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of his head and left him alone.
He stared at the necklace for several moments, making no move to touch it. He hadn’t spoken to his father since he’d left Asgard, not even when he’d been there only a few days ago with his brother to come and collect Loki. He didn’t know what he would say to him as bitterness clawed at the inside of his guts. He reached for the pendant, knowing he had to try. His father would not be easily swayed, but the thought of Nan being punished at the hands of his father sickened him and he knew he had to try. Maybe he could get his father to see that they’d all played a role in what had happened, and that everyone involved had been punished enough.