The Mischief of Loki

“If I may say, these chains are a tad too tight.” he grumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “Would any of you be so kind as to loosen them for me a bit?” As he expected no one moved, their glares piercing through him.

So, there he was, Loki the god of mischief (though some disrespectfully add mayhem), before his fellow Norse gods and goddesses in the halls of Valhalla. More specifically, he was here for trial, bound by similar chains to what restrained his child Fernir, before the All-Father himself Odin.

Odin’s stare was bored, tired, irritated, his head resting on his hand propped on the arm of the throne. Loki glanced around at the other gods present. Freya and her Freyr. The war god Tyr, Frigg’s favorite and most beautiful child Baldur, and Asgard’s mightiest and most popular Thor. Though in Loki’s opinion he deserved the title of Asgard’s most popular. He was Loki, the god of mischief, wedded to the beautiful goddess Sigyn, father of the goddess of death Hel, the wolf Fenrir and the world snake Jӧrungandr and the one who birthed the eight-legged steed of Odin, Sleipnir (though he was partially embarrassed by that last one). And yet his name was remembered with detest and wariness. It was not his fault that he was always up to some fun or that half his offsprings were destined to oppose Asgard on Ragnarök. 

Loki turned to his brother Thor. “Brother dearest, would you do me the utmost favor of lending me a hand here? I may not look it but I am in a great deal of discomfort.”

Thor grumbled angrily; his fist clenched tightly around his war hammer Mjolnir. Loki noticed a slight bruising along Thor’s hand, an unhealthy purple hue scaling up his arm. Loki smirked. “Dear me brother Thor,” he quipped nodding at Thor’s bruised arm, “do get that checked. Asgard would be in a great deal of peril if something bad were to happen to your battle prowess.”

“You bastard!” Thor cursed, stepping forward towards Loki, most likely to pound at the mischief god’s head with his hammer. Then someone behind him grabbed at his hand, tugging him back with a soft plea spoken more from the heart than it was by action. Thor turned to face this person, and his face softened. Then he stepped back reluctantly. Curious, Loki peaked behind him to see who it was. 

“Ah Lady Sif I must say you look ravishing today,” then with a grimace, added, “though without the headdress your appearance leaves something to be desired.” Sif blushed shamefully, sulking behind Thor to conceal her bald head, covered only by small tufts of golden hair. 

Thor on the other hand exploded, lightning sparks flying everywhere. Yanking his arm away from his wife Sif he stormed toward Loki swinging his war hammer. “You villainous fiend, you dare say that to my wife!” 

He towered over Loki, his war hammer raised high above the god of mischief’s head, a whirlwind of lightning and storm clouds spiraling from the sky down around the weapon. It was then that Odin’s voice boomed through the roofless hall, shaking everyone present to the core.

“Quiet!”

Thor froze where his stood, the thunder storm around Mjolnir fading away. He glanced from Odin to Loki, unsure as whether to continue his punishment or listen to his father. Then Odin added, “Back away from him, son.” Thor grumbled, then lowered his arm and backed away to his wife’s side. 

Loki smirked. “Thanks father.”

“Don’t ‘father’ me, Loki,” Odin leaned forward in his throne. “You know damn well why you’re here, don’t you?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

Odin scowled, leaning back in his throne. “You’re been charged with trickery and thievery from both the Aesir and Vanir, specifically the ones present here.”

Loki glanced around again, taking in the unsmiling faces of the gods glaring at him. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about father.”

“The hell you don’t!” Tyr roared. “You drew us away from our homes to steal from us.”

“Tyr buddy!” Loki cheered, “How’s the hand? You know, the one my son bit off.”

“Son of a –” Tyr cursed as he reached for his sword.

“Both of you be quiet!” Odin bellowed once more. “Especially you Loki; another provocative word from you and I will banish you to Niflheim for centuries.”

Loki sighed. “Yes father. But I truly know nothing of this theft against my fellow gods. I was too busy preparing a celebration of sorts just for them.”

“‘Of sorts’,” Freya snorted, her brother scowling beside her. Loki rolled his eyes.

Odin sighed wistfully. “Okay then, tell us of this celebration you were planning for your ‘fellow’ gods.”

Loki smirked. “Well, it started like this…”

***********************************************************

“Thirty minutes, Loki; nothing more. And any hint of your two-faced trickery and I will blast you to Niflheim.”

“Dear brother, do you really think so little of me?”

Thor snorted and went back to scrubbing the dirty fur of his goat in the pen in the back of his home. “What do you want, brother?”

“I’m holding a celebration on Midgard, and I’d love for you to attend with me.”

“Meddling with mortals now? Father will be furious if any harm comes to them.”

“And no harm will come to them.” Loki assured. “Sure, they would be present to serve and stuff but this is mainly for the gods.”

Thor dropped the scrubbing brush and stood up, towering over Loki. “If this is another trick I swear -” 

“I promise it is not. If it is, you have my permission to do to me as I did to your lovely wife.”

Loki never saw it coming; one minute he was standing under Thor’s thundery gaze, the next second he was in excruciating pain, flying across the room with a fiery ache in his chest. He let out a cry as his back crashed against the log wall of the pen.

Thunder clouds rolled in as Thor stormed to where Loki laid in a fit of anger, the house itself rumbling lightly yet terrifyingly as Mjolnir trembled, desperate to be summoned. “You bastard!” Thor roared. “Utter those words again and I shall rip out your tongue and feed them to the worms.”

It was then the door to the main household swung open, and a very worried Sif stepped out in a rush. “Thor!” she cried. “What’s wrong? What is the meaning of this?” Then turning to the wall she saw Loki, wincing in pain, smiling through a grimace as if nothing was wrong, and her worried look twisted to one of detest. “You,” she spat.

“Good to see you too sister-in-law,”

“Go back inside, love.” Thor insisted of his wife. “I’ll throw this fiend out myself,” 

“Please do.” Sif replied, giving Loki the coldest look before returning indoors. 

“Lovely,” Loki mused. Then to his brother, “You didn’t really mean that, did you?”

Thor smirked. The very next moment Loki was pulling himself out from a rose bush on the front lawn of Thor’s home, wincing as he carefully plucked the harsh prickles from all over his body and clothes. 

Thor let out a hearty laugh, one that boomed through Loki’s ears like a thunderclap. “I actually enjoyed doing that!” the god of thunder roared.

“I’m sure you did.” Loki yelped as he pulled a persistent thorn from his cheek, and another from his behind. “I take it you would attend?”

“Most certainly not you fiend! I will not become another victim of your hellish schemes and games.”

“I promise you, no tricks. And there would be great deal of mead available.”

Loki watched his brother’s face twist from determination to indecision. Thor’s drinking habit was one infamously know across the realms, and Loki knew how well a good dozen mugs of mead could sway the warrior god from almost anything. Except his wife that is.

“Where exactly is this celebration being held?” Thor asked, suddenly intrigued by the idea of good mead. 

“In Cambridge, in the Midgardian kingdom they call the United Kingdom. Specifically, England. I’ve seen the place for myself and I must say it is lovely. I reckon Sif would enjoy the place as well.”

Thor thought for a moment, then said, “I will think about it, but I make no promise that I would be there.” 

“Fair enough.”

“And hurry up and leave already, before Sif gives you a beating for messing up her rose garden.” And with that he returned indoors, slamming the door behind before he could hear Loki remind him of who threw him into the garden in the first place.

Loki plucked the last thorn from his body and let out a sigh of content. “One down, four to go.”

************************************************************

“…and then I went on to the other gods and gave them my invitations.” Loki finished his account.

“And what happened to this celebration you were holding for them?” Odin inquired.

“Well,” Loki fidgeted uncomfortably in his constraints. “Some complications came up and it was terribly delayed. To top it up I was not informed of them in time and soon after I was, I was taken forcibly from my home by your Valkyries, tied up in this surprisingly effective rip-off of Gleipnir, and presented before you as I am now with the false charges of theft and trickery.”

Odin stared long and hard at the god of mischief before him, then at the gods present. His daughter-in-law Sif still cowered behind her husband, who stood remained tense and enraged. Tyr stood in a similar position to Thor, with his only hand resting warily on the hilt of his sheathed sword. Baldur stood beside Tyr, quiet but clearly disturbed. The sibling Freya and Freyr wore irritated looks on their faces, a rare sight as they were usually the brightest of the gods of both Asgard and Vanaheim. 

Returning his gaze back to Loki, Odin began to speak, this time in out of annoyance rather than boredom. “Are you familiar with the Hildskjalf, Loki?” He watched as Loki paled considerably in silence, then continued, “Just in case you don’t remember, it is a tool that enables me to see into all the realms, to know what goes on where and when. And almost nothing escapes it.” He let the words sink in before resuming his speech. 

“Through the Hildskjalf I saw you use the Midgardian custom of naming different cities and towns across the world identical to the original to your advantage, scattering the gods across Midgard under the ruse of a non-existent celebration.”

“What?” Baldur interrupted rudely. “But how is that possible?”

“Simple. He told Thor to go to the city Cambridge in the country of England, then told Tyr to go to Cambridge of Massachusetts in the Americas for the same celebration. He told you to go to Naples in Italy, while Freya and Freyr were sent to a place called Florida. And while you sent Freyr to Memphis in Egypt, risking the wrath of the gods of those lands! All of this giving you as much time as you needed to rob the gods of their possessions”

Loki stared at the All-Father in disbelief, as if the very idea of such an accusation struck him dumb. “Dear father, I promise you I did no such thing. If this is as true as you believe it be, then where are these possessions? Surely you searched my home, and I am sure you found nothing, which only proves my inncocence!”

Loki was smiling manically, glancing round at every god present. He was right, even though they exposed his prank of scattering them across Midgard, they had no proof he was responsible for the theft of their possessions.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang as the gates of Valhalla swung open. Everyone stared at the beautiful goddess who made her way to where Loki knelt chained up, passing respectful nods to each god she passed, an honorary nod to the All-Father while keeping the scariest glare for Loki. Swung across her back was a huge heavy sack. “I apologize for my intrusion,” she apologized. “I have some urgent to discuss with my husband.”

Loki stared nervously as the newcomer. “Sigyn, darling,” he attempted to sooth. “You didn’t need to come down her; it’s all just a simple misunderstanding.”

“The hell it is!” Sigyn lifted the sack off her shoulder and over Loki’s head and proceeded to dump over his head. And everyone gasps as the contents of the bag crashed down on the mischief god’s head. 

Golden framed mirrors belonging to Baldur, the falcon plumes of Freya and Freyr, Tyr’s special blade Tyrfing. The iron gauntlets Jarngreipr for safely wielding Mjolnir, of course belonging to Thor and the golden headdress of Sif. All were there, around a now unconscious Loki who’d been knocked out when the gauntlets struck his head. 

Odin smirked at the sight of all this. “Well, I guess that’s all the proof we need.” The other gods nodded in agreement. Baldur however spoke up against Sigyn. 

“Where did you find them?” he asked suspiciously.

“In my home, buried in the back.”

“But how did you find them? We searched everywhere for them.”

“It is my home. No one, not even Loki knows there better than the one who makes it.”

“True.” Sif nodded in agreement.

Then returning his attention to the unconscious god, Baldur asked, “So, what would we do with him?”

“If I may,” Sigyn proposed, bowing courteously to the All-Father. “I’d like to issue out the first part of his punishment myself, and leave the second part to you.”

“First part?” Odin stared at Sigyn with astonishment, then broke into an amused laugh. “I didn’t even consider punishing him in parts!”

“Why not? He certainly deserves it; hopefully it’d deter him from future mischief.”

“I strongly doubt it,” Thor interjected. “But it would be satisfying all the same.” 

“Are there any objections to this?” Odin asked the other gods, who shook their heads in response. “Then it is settles then. Just be sure to return him as soon as you are finished with him.”

“Of course, Lord Odin.” Then Sigyn grabbed her husband by his long red hair and dragged him out of Valhalla, a sight that amused all the gods present as much as it amused him. 

Once she was gone, Tyr turned to the All-Father. “How did he manage to steal from us without being seen through the Hildskjalf? Or even get into our homes without seeming suspicious?”

Odin thought for a while before answering. “Loki is quite skilled in shapeshifting magic; he could have changed his shape to resemble all of you to slip into your homes like he owned the place.”

Upon hearing this Thor erupted once more, thunder clouds gathering in the sky as lightning sparked all around him. Behind him Sif paled at the realization of something horrifying. “So that bastard disguised himself as me, went into my home and….” He trailed off, fuming in outrage. Then, in the blink of an eye he stormed out of Valhalla after Sigyn and Loki. 

Odin watched all this with a great deal of worry, wondering what Thor would do to Loki as retribution or even worse, just how far Loki would go in his next ‘little’ prank. Because Thor was right; no punishment they could possibly give him would ever deter him, not even if they punished his children for his sins.