Classics Mutilated (37 page)

I instantly began plotting out who I could trick into dying so that I might see her again.

At school the next day, I made it through the rest of my studies in a daze. In part because there was nothing to be learned about life from repulsive dwarves and the other moronic persons presented to me as educators. Better that Loki should educate them about the ways of the world by cleaving their heads from their shoulders. But I digress.

I had much to ponder. Loki the loveless, Loki the forlorn, Loki the ever-detested ... this is who I was in Asgard. This is how I saw myself. And suddenly, to be given a different perspective twice in the course of one day was worth heavy consideration.

I did feel a kinship with Gjalpa that was hard to explain, although made easier by the suggestion of her origin, considering the rumors of my own frost-giant lineage. 

Then again, perhaps the frost-giant rumor was just Brynhilda looking to undercut the competition. After all, if she knew upon arrival that I was the Loki who was responsible for filling her hall with saps like Balder, then could she not also peer into my heart and see that I was smitten with Gjalpa?

Similarly, did Brynhilda realize that her very nature drew me to her as well? A shield maiden who proved to be so much more alluring than I was ever led to believe was an intriguing prospect indeed.

Was this what it had come to so suddenly? Choosing between Team Gjalpa or Team Brynhilda? 

Perhaps I could seek to date both of these enchanting creatures? After all, was I not Loki, the great trickster? If I could not maintain the deception of becoming embroiled in relationships with both of these delights, was I any more worthy of my nickname than Eilif was of his? 

I feel that loyalty is for lesser men. Or for bramble-headed louts like my half-brother Thor, who had not the brainpower to consider loving more than one other at a time. But I was not cut from that same simple sackcloth. Rather, if gods like my own father Odin had shown me anything, it was that all options are viable, and all outlets are to be pursued simultaneously. Great Loki the unloved deserved to make up for lost time. And besides, if Brynhilda could only come see me while also collecting the dead, I could just schedule those visits carefully around any other engagements I might have.
This could work
.

But first, the question of Gjalpa's origin needed to be answered.

It was yet another dreary, cloudy day, the air growing ever more frigid. Fimbul Winter was seriously unpleasant the longer it persisted. Had I been informed that my machinations against Balder would result in such a terrible climate, I might well have chosen another god against whom to focus my ire.

I saw Surty upon arriving on the school grounds. She was speaking conspiratorially with two other fire demons, neither of whom were familiar to me. 

"Good morn to you, Loki. Enjoying the cold weather? For now?" She winked at the other two.

"Yes, well, a good morning would be one that does not freeze the air in my lungs, Surty," I said. The two fire demons with her chuckled at that, though I knew not why.

"Coming right up," she said. Again, the other two laughed. I kept walking, paying no heed to that foolish girl or her flaming compatriots. In another day, I might well have set rock vipers against their flaming ankles as payment for their folly, but today, I was too anticipatory over the idea of seeing Gjalpa again and had no time to listen to their prattling.

I saw her standing with her other "family" members, and once again, she seemed preternaturally aware of my presence and turned to look at me. Only this time, her eyes blazed and I could read them clearly, even from a distance: "Stay away."

This girl was demonstrating considerable mastery at sending mixed signals. But I acquiesced, and went to class.

She took her seat next to me some time after the lessons had started. Her eyes were the color of deepest black. 

"Gjalpa, I…."

"Shh, Loki. Not here."

"Not here? But we only sit and listen to a detestable dwarf. I will never take lessons from such a monster, I will—"

"Loki,
please
. I know you have questions." 

How could she know that?

"After school. Meet me under the branches of Yggdrasil."

"Er, Gjalpa, if you're not aware, the great world-tree's branches extend out across the nine realms. One could spend several lifetimes searching under those limbs and never find what he was looking for."

"Silly. Under the
big
branch, I mean. The one that blocks all of the sun's rays from reaching Jotunheim."

Silly. She called me silly. Whereas before, Loki would have plucked out the tongue of any who dared refer to me in such a way, when she said it, it made me warm inside. And in this terrible winter-world in which we all now lived, I would take the warmth where it came.
Silly
. This girl was utterly charming.

If she told me then that she possessed the power to read minds, I would not have doubted it, for she suddenly turned and looked at me with a smile that set my heart soaring into Yggdrasil's great branches already.

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After our lessons were complete—lessons that had me plotting out the demise of someone who would allow me to see Brynhilda soon (the dwarf was my leading candidate)—I briskly made my way to great Yggdrasil.

It is difficult for the mortal mind to fathom Yggdrasil's size. Its mammoth trunk out of which its world-encompassing branches grew was thick enough at the base to require seven lifetimes to walk a circle around it. Its branches spanned galaxies, extending across all horizons of possibilities. But even amongst that unfathomable largeness, there was one limb that stood out. Fortunately, its location was near enough to Jotunheim that I reached it in a reasonable amount of time. Under this branch, the sun has never shown through—not even a sliver of its rays could penetrate the canopy above. It was there that I waited for Gjalpa. I did not have to wait long.

"I'm sorry about earlier today," she said upon arrival, her appearance next to me surprising me despite the fact that I was always at the ready for anything. Her speed belied her size. "My ... brothers and sisters, they are wary of me getting too close to outsiders."

"Outsiders? Then let me
in
, Gjalpa. I have no wish to remain on the outside. I feel ... a connection with you. A closeness I wish to nurture. I just ... I need to know some things before I can fully surrender to the feelings I have now."

"Loki, these words you tell me, they should scare me away. I am not so quickly drawn to others. I don't easily let down my guard, but something about you … it make me think that I could see myself spending all day with you. Every day."

All
day?
Every
day? "Gjalpa, I-I think I know why your eye color changes as it does."

"Oh, is that so," she said, arching an eyebrow under which sat an ebony eyeball.

"Yes, when I first saw you, your eyes were black as a dwarf's heart, curse that hated race. But then, another time, they flamed red."

"Is my eye color really what you have questions about, gentle Loki?"

Gentle? Me? 

"In truth, Gjalpa, no. It was ... when the carriage nearly struck me, it slid out of the way on patches of ice. Patches
you
created."

She dropped her eyes. But was that still a small smile pursing her lips? "This, again? How would I even do something like that, Loki? I am no goddess of the type you knew back in Asgard. I am a simple, humble—"

"—frost giantess," I finished.

She looked up at me. "Oh, that is ... what—why would you say such a thing?"

"It makes sense, Gjalpa. The ice patches. Your immense size. Your eye color changing from black to red when your temperature warms. Besides, I was talking to the Valkyrie and she said—"

"
Which
Valkyrie? When were you talking to a Valkyrie? And
why
?" She demanded, eyes blazing cold black fire. I saw her hands ball up into fists, and this time, so tight did she clench that particles of ice formed on the outside of her knuckles.

"Um, yesterday, when they collected the body, I stayed and talked to one of them, Brynhilda. She was ... she was nice." I said that last part in barely more than a whisper.

"
Nice
?! Valkyries are not nice! They steal the souls from men, which they then trap inside a placid hall, far away from the battlefield! That is torture for warriors born! And it seems they also use their evil ways to spread foul and deceitful rumors about others."

Now, typically, when I have had conversations with women about affairs of the heart, it has ended with me either deceiving them into making a decision that they ultimately regret, or perhaps just transforming them into field mice to be eaten by crows. So my reaction to Gjalpa's anger was surprising to me. I reached for her hand.

My palm made contact with her knuckles and stuck, so icily dry was her hand, so teeth-chatteringly cold. But I didn't care.

"Gjalpa, fair Gjalpa. I know not the truth of my own origins; I only know the rumors and hearsay that the children of Asgard whisper about me. So I am not one to sit in judgment over another in this regard. Besides, I have only heard tell of how proud are the frost giants. They battle against the gods, knowing full well that the gods are more powerful but never acquiescing. Why, my own doltish brother alone has slain many a frost gi— er, I mean, they have my respect. As would you. If that was indeed your true nature."

"My true nature, as you put it, Loki, necessitates that I hide who I am. It's not so easy. Why do you think I am absent on some days?"

"I ... I only know that on those days, my heart feels diminished."

She smiled a sad smile at me, and then stood, drawing herself up to her full, considerable height.

"Then perhaps I should demonstrate what would happen were I to show up at school on days when the sun does break through. Loki, if you will. The great limb of the world-tree that blots out the sun over Jotunheim—pull it back that the sun's rays might finally peek through. Even in this Fimbul Winter, it's a rather temperate day, and the sun will be eager to break through a spot it has never had a chance to caress before."

I did as she asked. I quickly wove a lasso out of discarded leaves and branches and, turning into an eagle to allow me to fly it up high, circled the branch. We gods have tricks that mortals cannot even guess. I returned to my human form and pulled the loop taught, and yanked. The great limb creaked and groaned, but could not deny my godly power (well, once Gjalpa added her own considerable strength to the pulling, that is).

The branch bent and bowed downward, opening a hole in the canopy. Above it, the sun, so eager to reach this virgin spot of land upon which it had never been, cast sunny rays of warmth down, down.

The solar rays caressed Gjalpa. They didn't touch me, for Loki ever dwells in the shadows, but they did embrace the girl next to me, anyway. Her eyes softened and again changed from deepest black to darkest red. But even more surprising was the effect it had on her skin.

Her face and hands began to appear luminescent, sparkling as though her body were covered with thousands of tiny diamonds. Her skin's brilliance was stunning to behold. I was awestruck. Never have I seen a more beautiful, captivating sight. Her sparkling, bejeweled skin cast a glow of utter brilliance across the forest floor.

I was so taken aback by this that I saw great teardrops fall from my eyes and land at my feet. Only, it was then that I noticed that my eyes were in fact dry, and the falling drops of dew were coming from fair Gjalpa herself. Tears of her own? No—the drops were emitting from her cheeks, from her hands and wrists, her very fingertips seeming to melt, turning first to slush and then quickly to water.

"Um, Loki ... the branch—"

"Ahh! Right away, my sweet." We released the rope, the great branch snapping back into place, the sun once again denied access to this land.

Her skin quickly returned to its normal icy appearance. It was perhaps fortuitous that I brought on Fimbul Winter since, other than the fact that it is said to be the precursor to the gods' demise, its frigid temperatures quickly restored her to normal.

We sat under the branch a while, her hands in mine. "So, a little sunlight…."

"You see our dilemma. We quickly go from sparkling like jewels to puddling like dew drops. But Loki, thanks to you, and this tree, the sun need never reach me now. You give me hope of a shared existence. We could travel beyond the frigid wastelands of my homeland and see all there is to see. Every day, we could be together!"

"Every day? Well, now, see, Gjalpa, I do crave the idea of sharing my time with another, but maybe not
all
my time, if that makes any sense? I have much that I do, and some of that time requires it be spent away from the accompaniment of others."

She placed her other hand on top of mine. And squeezed. I could feel my very marrow drop by degrees as she did so.

"Now, Loki, it is not the way of the frost giant to have dalliances. We keep to our own kind out of an effort to protect one another from hostiles. So the only way for me to bring an outsider—especially a god who has admitted his own brother has slain my kind—is for us to form an ever-lasting and impenetrable bond with one another. This is what I require of you, Loki. This is what must be, if
we
are to be."

I did my best to mask the look of growing horror in my eyes. Spend every minute with another, even someone I had started to care about? Be showered with affection all day long, without end? How could anyone of independent mind and means truly want such a thing?

I was quickly leaning toward Team Brynhilda, when all of a sudden, the branches suddenly exploded around us. Fragments of wood and leaf peppered across our faces and arms. I was momentarily blinded by the maelstrom, but unfortunately, my other senses were not similarly dulled. My nose still worked, and it detected a familiar scent of electricity. Brynhilda was
here
.