The Ragnarok Trials

Day Six: Head Over Heels

Day Six
         Head Over Heels
Focus Word: Admiration
Word Count: 2872

Odin abandoned me to the streets of town around sunset of the first day.

I hadn't wasted as much time as you might have thought. In one day, I'd formulated a portfolio and, far more importantly, gotten Odin to call off the hit. You have no idea how much easier it is to work when half of town isn't plotting slow and painful ways to kill you. Or maybe you do. I don't know. But if you do know, I'm sorry that someone has tried to kill you. It's not a great place to be.

I wasn't drunk, as much as I might have wished to be. It takes a lot more than a few shots of whiskey to take a Norse god down, and Odin hadn't been willing to buy out the entire place, even if Bacchus was willing to let him. I'd brought Odin to the Greek's place (a note: yes, yes, I am aware that Bacchus is the Roman name. He prefers it, so that's what I call him, but it's the same damn guy, alright? Get over it.) on purpose, even if Odin would have preferred to go to Sif's. The corn goddess made one hell of a liquor, but only the Norse gods frequented the place, and I'd wanted a more...diverse crowd to witness mine and Odin's reunion.

It had gone well. Bacchus had smiled knowingly, and I wondered just exactly how the bastard had known. He obviously had a spy within Odin's walls, and I'd made a mental note to come back later and ask exactly what he knew. I had a pretty good hunch that it would be something helpful, and as I only had two days left in which to solve this crime--I might have convinced Odin, but there was no way Michael was going to trust me so easily--whatever he had to know was worth whatever he demanded in return.

As I stumbled home through the dark streets outside God Town, I found that my thoughts had problems focusing on the case at hand. Maybe it was the alcohol in my system--I wasn't drunk, but that didn't mean I was sober, either--but I couldn't help but think about Gabriel at that moment. I was quite well aware that it was something that would never work out; the pain would kill me, and who knew what would happen if an Angel spent too much time around an Old God? But I couldn't help but wish he was around more.

I have never had a problem with gender. As a god, I was all and nothing. I am the mother of Odin's horse, the father of a wolf and a snake. As a man, I still have the same opinion of love. Gender is of no importance to me; if I am attracted to someone, I am attracted to someone. Equipment doesn't matter. Only beauty, only appeal. Something just happens and I'm head over heels.

I have long harbored an admiration for the Angel. It is the slight imperfection in his beauty that appeals to me so. And not just his beauty, but the gentle hand he uses with all living things. Maybe it's ironic that a trickster god, for whom lies are like breath, should be so enamored of kindness and virtue, for Gabriel so rarely tells lies and those only to sooth a frightened soul. Gabriel is the Angel in all the pictures, in all the songs and the prayers. He is also one of the few Angels willing to stand up to Michael.

Let me be perfectly clear: Michael is not friendly. It's not his fault, either, any more than it's mine for being less-than-trustworthy. Michael is a warrior. He is God's justice, the leader of his Divine Host, the bringer of vengeance and righteousness. He is the purging fire. If you see him smile, it's probably a good idea to run. He is largely cold, mostly unfeeling. Somehow, he has a woman. Don't ask me how, because I hear she's a much nicer person than he, but I guess there's a lid for every pot.

Gabriel, blessed Gabriel, is as the soothing waters. He whispers the sweet words that calm your soul. And he has a wonderful tendency to stick up for me when Michael's nature overcomes his sense. For that alone, I half fell in love with him. Truth be told, Michael frightens the hell out of me. And Gabriel is my shield against the mighty sword.

I think I've loved Gabriel from almost the first moment I met him. I do nothing slowly. It was on Earth, actually, some time after Michael came to free me from my chains. In a night club, where he'd come to play for the crowd. Gabriel likes to come down from Heaven sometimes, assume a mortal form, and spend time among humans. That night, he'd cloaked himself in flesh, but I recognized him anyway. He laughed loud and often, and threw his whole self into the music he played, oftentimes seeming surprised to see that he was sitting in a bar when he opened his eyes at the end of each piece. When the bar closed, he seemed so brokenhearted, I had to introduce myself. He prefers humanity to Heaven, the crude to the fine, the flawed to the perfect. And for this more than anything, I admire him.

I do not know how he feels about me. We are quite friendly, and he certainly seemed concerned that something might happen to me when Baldur was murdered. We laugh together, and he never misses coming to see me when he escapes Heaven for Earth of an evening. He's even teaching me to play the trumpet so we can play night clubs together. But I doubt that he returns anything like what I would want him to return. It's stupid, anyway. I am a God of Lies; I am not meant for innocent crushes. I am meant to feel frivolously, to fall into and out of love within hours. I am not meant to pine away for an unattainable love. I am certainly not meant to pine away for my friend. My life is not a sitcom.

And yet...It was to Gabriel my thoughts turned as I walked home

I was drunker than I thought if I was daydreaming about an Angel. More of my godly nature was coming out than I usually allowed. Since becoming human, I'd forced myself to control my more chaotic nature. I have learned to...control myself, I suppose. For safety's sake. It maintained my sanity when my kind had abandoned me and the snake had left me. As a god, I would have gone insane just to savor it, to feel madness raging through my divine veins. Embodied in flesh, I could not be so changeable, and so I forced myself to remain sane. I locked the churning, ever changing maelstrom within myself, deep within, where it could no longer tear at my consciousness.

I lost a lot of myself in that moment, but I retained so much more. Unless I got drunk, and the delicious lack of control that was my true nature returned to prod my fleshy cage and push me ever closer to chaotic insanity. It could be nothing but insanity, to so force chaos into a solid form, never-changing, always rigid. And so I never tried drugs and only rarely allowed myself to push past the effervescent buzz of a tipsy drunk. Tonight, apparently, I had pushed myself to that state without my ever knowing.

My apartment is nice enough. The Angels did not want me to live in squalor, but they also did not want me to rise above myself. Compared to a rock, though, the place is a veritable palace. It has four walls, a plush bed, and, hell, a roof. Running water and actual furniture rounded out my humble abode, and it was all I could have ever asked for. I do not pay for it. Some hapless clerical type up in Heaven probably deals with my finances. If I need clothing, I get clothing. Food? I get food. My tab at Bacchus' gets handled once a week, some sort of currency turning up in his accounts by super special Angel magick.

That's good, though. I'm not much of a money guy. I spent thousands of years not having to worry about the stuff, and only within the past few decades have had to consider the cost of what I'm buying. A few months of forgetting to pay my rent and Michael had lost his patience with me. Actually, I'm surprised it had taken more than once with him. Maybe he doesn't pay as much attention to my doings as he likes to threaten.

Coming up to my door--no elevator in my building, but I'm only on the third floor, so that's okay--I heard the dulcet tones of a trumpet and grinned despite myself. Don't think my heart started pattering, or anything. Like I said, I don't do innocent crushes. But I was pleased to hear that Gabriel had come visiting. I was less than pleased that, within a moment of smiling, I frowned, concerned. Why was Gabriel here? He wasn't supposed to help me, and there was no way he was coming to say that Michael had changed his mind about my guilt. Michael had decided I was guilty; it would take an actual confession to convince him otherwise.

Let me clear something up here. Michael doesn't hate me. He is not particularly fond of me, but he isn't particularly fond of many people. Angels had long ago learned to go through his wife if they wanted kindness (somehow she can get him to be nice), and to have their ducks in a row if going to him otherwise. He wanted efficiency and blind justice. He was there to defend Heaven against new ascendents, not to make friends with anyone. Somehow, he inspired loyalty. But, then again...so did Odin. And, in my time, so did I.

Taking a deep breath to calm my drunken thoughts--I really must learn to stop expecting the worst from every situation--I pushed my way into the living room of my apartment. Gabriel was sitting by the window, playing out into the night. It is a testament to his skill alone that no one had screamed at him to shut the hell up. He stopped, though, and turned toward me. "Loki, how goes it?"

It was then that I noticed he wasn't wearing armor. "Decided to come slumming this evening, Gabe?" I asked, tossing my keys into the bowl by the door, and sauntering into the middle of the room. I was surprised that I wasn't grinning. Seeing Gabriel is always a pleasure, and not just because he is so damn pleasing to look at. He is a good friend, and we share a lot of interests. Perhaps the best thing about being flesh and blood is that I felt no urge to one day betray him, to test our friendship to its limits just for the perverse pleasure of feeling it snap. I am no longer a slave to my nature, and in this case, it will save a relationship.

"I do not consider it slumming, Loki, as you well know. Plus, Michael doesn't think to look for us in human form. He would never do it, so he cannot accept that there are those of us who would. I wanted to see how you're doing? You know two different entities wanted to kill you today?" Gabriel stayed in the window, sitting on the sill and staring out into the night. "Don't do anything stupid, okay? I would prefer it if you stayed alive."

Shrugging, I walked into the kitchen and reached into the fridge for a water. For a drunk, water and sleep are the only cures you need. "Heimdall and Odin, hmm? Odin actually tried. I am really, really glad I managed to convince him that I am not to blame for Baldur's death. I know it took a whole day, but it was worth it to not have people trying to kill me all the time."

"You managed to convince Odin that you're innocent? I knew you had a silver tongue, but I never suspected..."

"My tongue is more than silver, my friend." What? I'm a flirt. What else did you expect? Am I aware that the overt flirtation is likely to convince Gabriel that I care for him in only a friendly fashion? Damn right. Best way to hide true feelings is to exaggerate them.

Gabriel laughed, the sound damn near magickal. Angels. Well, most Angels. Michael laughing is just scary. "Charmer. I never knew you cared so, Loki. What will that do to your precious reputation?"

I stopped in my tracks, water bottle halfway to my lips, and stared at the Angel. He was silhouetted by moonlight, so I couldn't see his face; only his grey eyes, sparkling with amusement. "Reputation?" I winced as my voice cracked. I skipped puberty, thank you very much, body, so please don't start doing this to me now. "Are you kidding?" I settled, gathering my wits and finishing the sip I'd been about to take. "This is exactly what people expect from me. I sleep with whomever I want whenever I want, damn the consequences. I've cared for my fair share of people in my time."

"Ah, yes, your many children, both as mother and father. You have a most intriguing history, Loki. I remember when we had not yet ascended, living in the minds and hearts of desert dwellers, wishing that I could be so free. It is only now, when I am the ascendent one, that I realize just how hard it is to be in this position. There is no freedom; not really. I am bound to be what they believe of me. It is only when I manage to sneak away, to fashion for myself a cloak of flesh, that I feel what I felt when I was merely a lower level entity of the desert. The higher I climb, the more trapped I feel."

I was across the room before I knew it, hand on Gabriel's shoulder. There was no pain for me when he was human, and no black hole for him. We both of us hid our true nature behind humanity, trapping it within ourselves to keep insanity at bay. You may be thinking now: hello Loki, you could be with him if he cloaks himself in flesh! Allow me my delusions that we could never work, please. It is all that keeps me from doing something very stupid. "I understand, Gabe. All of us do. But...but I understand more than most, I think. Even now, in flesh, I feel it within me...what humanity shaped of me. Falling...becoming what we are now, it allowed me to make decisions for myself. Where my fellows struggle to hold on to themselves, to reach back and grasp at our old power, I admit that there is a part of me that glories in this freedom. Do I miss the power? Do I miss...do I miss the ability to flow and change with every second simply because I willed it? Yes. But I so love this freedom. And I sympathize that you have lost yours, though it means the ability to change the world."

Gabriel took my hand in his and smiled up at me. "You are so much more than Michael realizes," he said. "You are far more than anyone realizes. They so fear you, fear what you once were, that they miss what you have made of yourself. I promise you, though, that I will work to make sure everyone knows. It's the least I could do for a friend."

I smiled back despite the lurching of my heart within my chest. I'd drunk too much, and could barely resist leaning down to press my lips to his, so wonderful did they look in the light. Instead, I looked around the room and cocked my head to the side. "Well, I am not tired. What should we do now?"

Another trumpet appeared at Gabriel's side, though I thought I caught a slight downturn to his mouth as he turned away from me. He was smiling when he turned back. "Practice. And you can tell me what you think of this case, even though I am in no way allowed to give you any help. If I happen to give you some good advice, though, Michael will just have to deal with it. He doesn't know I'm down here anyway, right? And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't listen to your troubles? So, come on...up and at 'em. We'll not become a band if you can't play, and you'll not be able to play without practice."

I groaned, but grinned as I reached for the instrument. "Of course, memsahib. I would never dream of disappointing you. Now, let me tell you about Baldur's body...and just exactly whom I think killed him. No specifics, of course, but I have an idea and I think it's a good one."