Broker

Chapter 209



Chapter 209

Was it a memory? Perhaps a vision? A remnant? A fragment of something that was once truth but now seems so ludicrous as to only be a lie? A place within a dream, a wondrous realm that beggared imagination. A perpetual revelry, dance and song, fire and breath, lust and love. A place of madness, where those who had finally let free their arrogant grip on that thing called ‘sanity’ could dwell. Here, in the depths of mayhem, the little light followed her lady dutifully. 

The passage to the grand hall was quiet as a tomb, a far cry from the ceaseless din that lorded over their destination. The walls were of granite brick, smoothed to a glorious luster and yet marred by moss, vines, and webs. The gleam beneath the grime made even that place seem surreal and haunting. There were three of them in the passage. The little light was one, in a resplendent gown of black velvet and rubies, a crown of twisted thorns made of silver adorned her raven-haired head and a veil of metal-turned cloth hung over her face. She walked slowly, following the two who she served at a respectful distance.

To the right was a man, tall and broad shouldered with a back rife with luxurious muscle. His black hair hung in dozens of long braids that danced around his tanned body, his flawless skin seeming to glow with a sourceless splendor. Despite that and the grace with which he walked, there was a savagery to him, predatory and animalistic. On the left was a woman, while he was the embodiment of wild hunger, she was nature’s serene grace. Ebon hair that cascaded down her back was as smooth as a stream, weaved with pale-white vines that criss-crossed in a decadent pattern. She wore a gown of black silk that glimmered with stars, gold accents framing its luster.

“I can’t believe he’s just showing up like this,” the woman growled angrily, “Arrogant man, comes and goes as he pleases.”

“Be patient with him, darling. Or you’ll lose your chance,” the man said, “I know how much you desire him, but you can’t claim him if you chase him off.”

“And you, you indulge me too much,” the woman protested.

“As long as you are happy,” he said and took her hand, raising it to his lips, “I would sunder the golden throne just to see that radiant smile.”

“Oh husband, my handsome king,” the woman sighed, “You say the sweetest things.”

The little light remained silent through their flirtation, it was always like this. Their constant adoration of one another was a saccharine addition to the already unhinged surroundings. Something about it made the little light’s stomach twist and wrench, but the feeling faded as she sought some manner of explanation for it. Her mind so devoid of anything useful that it left her helpless against the currents that these two strange beings dragged her through. 

The woman turned and leveled her with a stare, her eyes the color of polished steel, “Little light? You’re so quiet tonight.”

“Perhaps she is tired, love,” the man said, turning as well. Eyes of burnished brass settling upon the tiny figure behind them, “The dove does not need to sing every evening. Let her rest and enjoy the festivities. We have more important things to deal with anyway.”

The woman doubled back, gliding across the ground without a sound, her dress hiding whether or not she even took a step. She reached out and took the little light by the chin. The small woman shuddered at the icy grip, “Is that what it is? Are you weary, little light? You know, if you become one of us then that feeling will no longer burden you. The offer stands. Be mine, and I will shower you with love, you can live in this place for all time without a care and an army of servants to solve your every woe.”

The little light felt something rise up in her chest, a longing, an ache, a wish to finally be allowed to rest and let it all go, whatever it

was. Next to that feeling, though, was a furious shriek of indignation and rage. A condemnation. A defiant howl. A cataclysm that could not be quenched by sweet things. She did not know its source nor did she understand it, but she recognized it as something that belonged to her. A natural part of her that she could not reject as much as the sun could stop rising.

“My heart isn’t ready, my queen,” the little light said apologetically.

The queen smiled, “So be it, we have all the time in the world. Come, let us see what the Asgardian wants.”

The little light felt a tremor go through her body, a weakness that only abated when she caught her breath. She bowed, “Of course, my queen.”

They crossed the remainder of the passage and arrived at a door. It looked to be made of a single tree, stretched, bent, and twisted until it had been molded into a useful shape. The queen and king stood side by side and gestured at the door, drawing a verdant light from its surface. It shuddered and gave way to the sound of revelry and song. Laughter, anger, moans, and shrieks assaulted the senses as merry music played in the background. Beyond the door the little light found herself once more in the great court, a vast domed room filled with glowing white trees. Seats and tables were scattered throughout, a host of men and women amongst them, swept up in the furor.

Some of those present turned when the trio entered the place, they waved or bowed as they wished before returning to whatever debauchery they were engaged in, lost in their own delights. Ahead of them, two thrones of white stone rose from a tangle of vines. The queen sat on the left while the king sat on the right. The little light bowed her head and stepped in to stand with her queen only to gasp as the woman took her by the wrist and pulled her into her lap with a laugh, “There we go, more comfortable than standing, yes?” the queen asked, reaching for her face beneath the veil.

The little light turned her head away, “My queen,” she pleaded, admonishing.

“Such a precocious little-” the queen began, her tone hungry, before a new voice cut her off.

“Titania!” it was strong, proud, and commanding in a way that distracted the little light from her predicament. She turned to look as the revelry around them died down to a whisper. None moved while the man in black leathers stepped up to a dias beneath the two thrones. He held his chin high, his rainbow-colored eyes glimmering even in the brightly lit chamber. His long reddish-gold hair was trussed up in a bun behind his head and his strong jaw was set into a wily smile. “I have been waiting for you.”

The queen clicked her tongue, “Another time, then,” she purred at the little light. The little light watched as the queen turned her attention to the newcomer, “Loki. You’ve come again. Are you here to deny my affections once more? I still have room for you, you know.”

“Something worth considering, if it did not consign me to a fate worse than death,” he replied without so much as a flicker of doubt in his multicolored eyes.

“You speak out of turn in my court,” The queen growled.

“You bring someone who reeks of the Arbiters to our meeting,” he shot back, “That plaything of yours, where did you get it? She stinks of the golden throne,” he asked, pointing a finger at the little light.

The little light felt an instinct to recoil from his accusing gaze even as that other part of her fumed at being called something so degrading. Yet in her position she could say nothing as the queen rested a hand on her head and stroked her hair. Demeaning. Patronizing. She felt a sliver of herself crumble a bit at the indignity of it even as that fire in her belly reinforced her mind as best it could. The queen barked out a laugh.

“Is that what that familiarity is? I could not tell. My realm has had no place for the Golden Throne’s agents for some time now. No, this one was found wandering and lost, broken. I stitched her body and mind back together. She is mine,” Titania declared, “You have nothing to fear from this little light.”

Loki smirked, “Really now? Interesting. To think one of that busybody’s disciples would go so far astray and not be recalled. Perhaps her powers are finally waning in her old age. I hear she is preparing Gilgamesh to take over for her.”

The king leaned forward, “Watch your words, friend, I have patience for amusement but not for insulting my Queen. You know well that we share the same period of ascent with [bzzzzzt].”

The little light blinked, turning her head towards the king. That last word, why could she not hear it? It was as if something had scoured it from her senses. She looked up at Titania who gave her husband a reproachful look.

“Oberon, forgive me,” Loki said with a half-hearted bow, his hand on his heart, “I was merely commenting on how wasteful that woman is with her power. While you conserve and wield your might wisely, she needlessly interferes with the business of the many courts.”

Oberon laughed, “Pretty words. You’ve developed a silver tongue over the past few centuries. Boy.”

“Did they not work?” Loki asked with equal humor.

“I suppose they did,” Oberon said, “So long as my Queen is mollified by them.”

The little light felt the queen grip her knee and she tensed a little, wondering if today would be a day for her wrath or her good humor. She was relieved to see a smile on the queen’s face. There would be no bloodshed today. “I could never stay angry with you, Loki dear,” Titania said wistfully, “What fury I retain fuels my desire for you. What pain I will impart upon you once you’re mine is… tantalizing,” she let out a hungry breath and the little light shuddered as she was pulled closer to the queen’s chest, “If you are not here to accept my love, why are you here?”

Loki frowned and met the little light’s gaze through her veil. His rainbow-hued eyes glimmering with dangerous promise, “The interloper has sent one of her arbiters to Asgard, a new girl. The daughter of Hephaestus and Aphrodite.”

“Then urge your father to turn her away,” Titania said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “I do not see why you need to tell me this. Though it is strange that she would send her there when Mimir already performs that duty. Did the seer not take offense?”

Loki hesitated before speaking again, “Mimir urged my father to take her in and cajoled the rest of the court to accept her as one of their own. She has already entered the Winding Halls and makes her way to the Bifrost.”

The queen’s voice dropped into a low, dangerous growl, “Mimir did what? Is this a betrayal?”

“He would not explain his reasoning to me,” Loki said and let out a sigh, “After my protests, my brother was sent to see me out of Asgard. I am banished until I ‘right my thinking’ as is my father’s proclamation.”

“He saw something,” Oberon said thoughtfully, “A truth about the girl, perhaps? Do you know if he has been to visit Athena and her Oracle recently?”

Loki snorted, “When does he not find the time to do that? The two are like besotted lovers, I doubt they were chaste in the Golden Throne’s shadow. I cannot say whether or not he received an Oracle or if it was from his own insights.”

Titania barked out a laugh, “Oh? I did not know about this, so pure Athena has a dirty little secret? I wonder if her father knows.”

The little light was lost within the winding web of the conversation. The names seemed to have some meaning to her but she could not place them. She searched her memories but as always they were nothing but void, a hollow ache that accompanied the temper that she struggled to control. Where did she know those names from? Who were these people? Her lips thinned in concentration only for it to be broken by a luxurious finger running down the back of her neck. She shuddered and turned her head to look up at the queen, pleading. “That was unkind, my queen,” she murmured.

“You dwell on unnecessary thoughts, pet, no need to think about such things,” Titania whispered into her ear before sitting up straight. The little light frowned, looking away as she tried to clear her mind. If that was what the queen wanted, perhaps she needed to stop thinking so much. She had taken care of her these past weeks, held her, comforted her. It wasn’t wrong to repay the debt with some obedience, was it?

“Asgard is our strongest ally against the Golden Throne’s rule over the affairs of the great ones,” Oberon said, his tone measured, “Odin has always been resistant to [bzzzt]s influence even as he plays Mimir’s games. If he is changing his stance, then we may find trouble at our doorstep. What of our other allies?”

The little light watched as Loki began to pace, “Oorochi went to the Golden Throne with a warning some time ago, I am to meet with him soon. Quetzalcoatl is eager to face Gilgamesh again. The Heavenly Demonic Cult has reached out to me after an Arbiter arrived at their doorstep. They seem to possess a great one capable of informing them of who they can trust.”

“Such forces won’t matter if we lose Asgard,” Titania snarled, “Who exactly is this child-Arbiter who has upturned our carefully laid groundwork so easily? You say that ugly bastard Hephaestus is her father?”

Loki stopped in his pacing, “A name to curse?” he asked with amusement, “She calls herself Pandora.”

It was like a lighting bolt went off in the little lights mind, a sudden jolt that would have sent her reeling if not for her queen’s grip on her body and her own unwillingness to be noticed in the throes of the sudden revelation. Pandora? The little light thought. That name. I know that name. She felt something tease at the edge of her thoughts, an invasion, a probe that she did not welcome. She pushed it away, urging her mind to appear blank as her true thoughts swirled and thundered about. Who? Who is that? Why does my heart ache when I think of that person? What am I forgetting? Did I know her before?

The questions came in a flurry as images bit into her consciousness, a world unlike the one she resided in, fragments, fictions and truths. Words spoken, schemes, hatreds and loves. A name.

Sonya. My name is Sonya.


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