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The evening was still young, but the sky over Glaðsheim was already dark and Anton, son of Havardh the Smith, was tired. His feet were hurting after a long day at the market, selling his father’s famous ironwork to tourists who visited the Aesir capital for the Midwinter Festival. And yet, despite the seemingly endless, tedious working hours, he volunteered to run an extra errand while Havardh and his bevy of salesladies were closing down the stall for the night.
As usual, Havardh’s business was doing extremely well with sales increasing day by day, and Anton, who was a renowned bladesmith himself, swallowed down his pride and closed his own workshop every other day to sell thimbles and trinkets at the Solstice Fair. Mostly he did so because he found it increasingly difficult to escape his father’s enthusiastic pep talks and passionate views on the importance of making the smithy (‘Our smithy! It’s all going to be yours one day, son.’) even more popular by ‘lending your face to the brand’.
Yeah, right.
Anton often wondered where his father got those ideas. No one else on Asgard thought like him, that was for sure, and Anton had great respect for Havardh’s business sense even if it was annoying sometimes. Also, he felt it was good to be rich.
But this short hour of free time Anton managed to sneak away almost every night was important, almost sacred, to the young smith. He knew that at home, paper work was already waiting for him, and he would have to take a look at his own workshop to see if everything was all right. So he hurried to deliver a set of personalised vanguards to a famous warrior, turned down the invitation to join the war hero for a cup of mead with a fake expression of regret in his eyes, and smiled his brightest smile as he muttered his excuses and bowed his way out.
He really had no time to lose.
The smith hastened down the cobbled streets of Glaðsheim, away from the buzzing city centre with its extravagant architecture, shiny domes and the ever-present shadow of King Odin All-father’s gilded palace. Anton was heading towards a less impressive and affluent part of the town where people had learned to mind their own business if they wanted to stay out of trouble.
On his way, Anton passed by the Great Temple, a huge columned building with an elaborate commemorative courtyard where the crowd would gather to watch their royal family perform the traditional rites for the longest night of the year. The smith slowed down for a moment, and he thought his heart just skipped a beat as he imagined Prince Loki, Odin’s younger son, climbing those majestic stairs clad in his dark, elegant armour and wearing his beautiful horned helmet (which was, by the way, a unique masterpiece designed and crafted in Havardh’s weaponry). He would carry a torch to light the fire that would burn to see the old year out and the new one in. This was the prince’s holiest duty at the Winter Solstice.
Because Loki, who was mostly referred to as the God of Mischief, was also the God of Fire, a fact that was often forgotten outside the more religiously-minded circles of Asgardian society. As a smith, Anton of course knew about this and remembered, but he wasn’t thinking on some glorified and sacrosanct figure in the distance right now. He thought on Loki the man, his lover, who was very real and warm and breathing, who called him Tony instead of Anton, and who would hopefully be wrapped in Anton’s arms in the not-too-distant future.
The area around the temple was brimming with people. Everybody was celebrating atween the Yules, and at least one visit to the sanctuary belonged to the season like the Solstice itself. Anton spotted a small group of whitesmiths who worked for Havardh just leaving through the main gate of the temple. Worse still, they had seen him too, and were now waving at him. Oh no, he thought. Still, he couldn’t ignore them completely without causing comments and unwanted attention, so he had to spend a few of his precious minutes with greetings, small talk, and turning down yet another invitation for a drink. This is quickly turning into the most abstinent Yuletide of my entire life. I’m practically on the wagon now.
Once the other smiths had left, Anton pulled up the hood of his cloak to avoid further unintended encounters. Then he walked even faster, eager to make up for the time he had lost talking to his father’s employees. The streets changed with every corner the bladesmith turned, growing darker and more narrow. Just like the streets, the houses were plainer here, their tops covered with wooden shingles rather than with the lustrous glazed ceramic roof tiles favoured by the nobles of Asgard.
The people Anton met were mostly trying to keep out of his way. Dark, hooded capes seemed to be the fashion in this quarter, and avoiding eye contact was apparently considered the height of good manners. Then and now, the smith spotted some adventurous travellers from other realms who probably wanted to add some flavour to their once-in-a-lifetime experience of visiting Glaðsheim. Well, being mugged wasn’t ranking anywhere on Anton’s wish list, and he was following Loki’s instructions for moving about unmolested to a T.
Head bowed, eyes cast down? Check. Dark, threadbare, and not-so-clean cloak to imply poverty? Check (and how Havardh had stared and raised an eyebrow at his only son when Anton came downstairs with Grandfather Havardh’s old cape in his hands after an hour of searching the attic for something suitable). But the most important item was a very plain trinket Loki had given Anton as a token of his affection. “No one messes with the one I love,” the god had said, and Anton took great care to carry the amulet with him all the time. Still, talismans could be lost, and the smith thought that the true charm surrounding him was the love he felt for one of the most powerful magical beings on the Nine Realms.
*****
And then there he was. Suddenly, Tony simply knew that Loki was near him, and he watched calmly and without any feeling of surprise as the prince glided noiselessly out of one of the hallways that had turned into their customary meeting places during the past few weeks.
“So deep in thought, handsome,” Loki whispered. His voice sounded sophisticated and slightly husky, and when the smile on his lips reached his eyes it made the smith’s heart skip another beat. Tony touched the taller man’s cheeks and pulled him closer for a kiss while the god’s hands slid underneath his cloak, caressing his back lightly.
Tony leaned back a little.“Groper,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Loki responded playfully. “Just like you taught me.” The prince’s mouth was still rimmed by the ring of red scars that was the visible reminder of Odin’s cruel treatment of his younger son. Nevertheless, Anton felt that Loki was the most beautiful man he had ever seen.
And he’s all for me. Tony wondered briefly what Loki’s family would say if they could see their youngest member like this. Well, they’ve had their chance, the smith thought. I love you, and I’m so close to telling you.
Now Loki leaned even closer, and for a few precious moments their world was perfect. There were no prying eyes and no questions to be answered. It didn’t matter that same-sex relationships were frowned upon on Asgard, and that making their relationship public would undoubtedly cause a lot of prattle. Right now, they enjoyed the early stages of their love, where the only thing they wanted was some privacy and spoiling each other with all the tender words and gentle caresses their circumstances would allow them. And unfortunately, that wasn’t much in this cold, windy corner of Asgard’s golden metropolis.
“We need to find a room,” Tony breathed into his boyfriend’s ear.
“I know. And I’m working on it.”
Ah, yes. The drawbacks of being in a privileged and therefore exposed position. Both Loki and Tony were highly recognisable, and couldn’t go anywhere without being stared at. Thank you, Havardh, for talking me into ‘lending my face to the brand’. Everybody knows me by now, and Loki is even more well-known.
Loki smirked. “I’m afraid we'll have to contend ourselves with Elfrida’s place again tonight.”
Tony sighed, and followed the prince into a potions shop nearby where a discreet witch let them sit in her backroom. Elfrida was an old acquaintance of Loki’s. She was smart and good-looking, still young, and had a habit of winking suggestively at Tony while serving tea. Only a few weeks ago, the smith would have gladly tried to find out if this was a serious offer or just a way of teasing him. Over a couple of drinks, preferably. And look at me now: here I am, sipping tea—herbal tea, forsooth!—and holding hands with the most desirable creature who in turn... Oooh, unfair!
Loki’s long, cool fingers had found their way under Tony’s tunic and nudged him repeatedly. “May I have your attention, please?”
“You have it. Always.’
“I think your mind was drifting.”
“But I was thinking on you, so yeah. You had my attention. Have my attention.”
“Honestly, Tony. Do you think Havardh could spare you for a couple of days after the Solstice?”
The smith felt a warm shiver running up his spine. “You mean, like a holiday?”
“I guess that depends on your definition of holiday; they usually mean an awful lot of work for me. But didn’t you tell me you’d like to travel, Tony? How do you feel about a trip to Nornheim, perhaps?”
“Nornheim would be great, but I don’t think I could get away from the smithy right after the Winter Solstice. It’s when the fires are burning at their best, and we’re all looking forward to it. Especially since things went awry after the Summer Solstice.”
“Wait. What?” Loki asked, obviously interested. “What’s wrong with your fires?”
“Haven’t I told you? We’ve been experiencing difficulties with keeping our forges at the appropriate temperatures since summer.”
Loki’s eyes went dark, and although he and Tony had only been dating for a short time, the smith already recognised the expression and knew what was coming. “Now Loki, let’s not waste the evening with talking about Thor.”
“Well,” the prince said, and his voice suddenly sounded bitter. “Thor wasn’t only drinking on his way to the Midsummer Ceremony, he had been feasting all night and should have stayed at home. I tried to stop him but, as usual, people wouldn’t take heed of what I was saying.”
Oh dear. Tony knew when he had lost, so he just nodded as Loki started a lengthy tirade against his older brother’s more questionable habits.
The Mighty Thor, aka Undesirable In-law #1. Who would have thought? The smith mused while listening half-heartedly. Did I just call him in-law? But we’re not married. I mean Loki and I, not Thor and... Now that’s a terrible idea, and it’s in my brain now. Go AWAY! Just leave! Anyway: can men get married? Of course they can, but like, to other men?
”... the whole night, trust me. I heard them, Thor’s chambers are next to mine. You wouldn’t believe the noise Sif was making.” Loki stopped his speech, took a deep breath, and looked expectantly at his boyfriend.
“Don’t be such a virgin, babe,” Tony told him with a gentle smile. “I promise I’m going to be very vocal and deprive Thor of all the sleep you want me to.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But you are, my sweet,” the smith pointed out. “You know I’d be only to happy to help you remedy this sorry state of affairs, don't you?”
Loki smiled sadly. “I fear my father would put you in the stocks if he ever caught us out.”
“The All-father can’t do that! I’m a Freeman of Asgard and I have rights,” Tony exclaimed, his eyes widened in shock and his indignation clearly showing on his face. “It wouldn’t even be a crime if we laid with each other.”
“I’m a son of Odin, Tony, and I didn’t commit a crime either. But look what he did to me.” Loki let his index finger run slowly over his lips where the scars stood out in a bright red. “There’s no one to protect you when my father feels personally offended.”
“You’re keeping me at bay because you want to protect me?”
“Yes.”
“Come.” Tony wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “You told me not to be afraid. Now forget about Thor’s drinking, and don’t waste your time with brooding on whatever he was doing with Sif. Do you know what I think has happened?”
“Enlighten me.”
“Bad luck.”
Loki rolled his eyes, backed away from Tony and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Ah.”
“Oh, come on, darling. It was raining a lot, there were thunderstorms all over the place, floods everywhere and even the Lokabrenna didn’t behave right.”
“My point precisely! Why do you think there were thunderstorms all over the place? Because the ruddy God of Thunder was plastered at his own ceremony. The same blasted ritual that’s supposed to keep the weather in check for the harvesting season.”
He really believes in all this, Tony thought, a little surprised. Better be careful now. “Please hear me out, will you?”
The prince huffed, but made no move to interrupt his friend.
“The way I see it,” Tony continued, “is that we had a rain-soaked summer that was followed by a cold and wet autumn. Remember the Lokabrenna? Your star burned much brighter than usual, and still, the dogs days were a total disappointment temperature-wise. No heat at all, and the coldest since we started to keep records on the weather. Why, we even had some ground frost as soon as autumn began. As a result, the wood is always damp, and the coals refuse to burn as evenly as they should to keep the temperature in the forges at the right level. This kind of thing is often a problem when the year is growing old. It just happens, Loki. It just happens. I’m sure it’s no supernatural comment on your brother’s drinking habits.”
“Well, you should have seen him stomping around the hallway, swaying and smashing his goblet on the floor while shouting for more wine. I swear it was enough to make the Norns change their plans for this year. But Tony,” Loki cupped the smith’s chin with his hand and Tony noticed how impossibly green the god’s eyes were. Right now, they were sparkling even brighter than usual.
Smaragdine. What? Where did that come from? What kind of word is that?
“Tony dear. Do you have any faith at all?”
Careful , Tony reminded himself. “I’m not sure. I certainly wasn’t brought up in an overly pious way. But I was taught all the myths and stories, and I know about the prayers, the feasts, and their meaning.”
“I’ve often seen you at the Fire Temple.”
“I’m a smith, Loki. It’s what smiths do. Visit the Fire Temple to see other smiths and be seen by other smiths. Talk to other smiths about, you know, smith things. Light a candle or two. And wait, did you just own up to spying on me?”
“Not as such. And not with intent. And I certainly didn’t follow you around, so stop giving yourself airs, you foolish man.”
“But it makes such an endearing picture...”
“It’s no laughing matter.”
“Please tell me I haven’t ruined the evening.”
“Of course you haven’t, stupid. I’m just amazed how far apart our worlds were up until now.”
Until now. That means he wants this to change. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?
Loki remained silent a little longer before looking up again. “Would you like me to bless your hearth?”
Tony gaped. “Why would you want to bless my hearth?”
“You know who I am.”
“What? I thought all that was just ceremonial, Loki.”
“Like when I’m lighting the fire for the new year at the Winter Solstice? You’re a smith, Tony, and ought to know better. Show some faith and let me help you.”
And then Loki asked some questions about the hearth (“It’s father’s, really”), where to find it (“In our kitchen, where else?”), and how their mornings were organised (“Well, we meet in the kitchen around six o’clock, break our fast, and go down to the workshops at seven.”). Loki looked very contended at this piece of information, and scolded Anton a little (and very gently) for not alerting him earlier to the smithy’s troubles.
“You know, this Realm’s certainly going to the dogs when even smiths do not remember what a God of Fire is for. Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with the Odinforce itself, but you better not mention this to anyone else, Tony,” he said thoughtfully. “My schedule’s rather tight this week, but I’ll fit you in as soon as possible.”
“As you wish, my love. Any time,” Anton told him. He was not a religious-minded man and didn’t fully comprehend what Loki’s offer meant to the prince. So he didn’t ponder on the conversation much. Trying to get his boyfriend into his arms again seemed much more important than all this talk about gods, blessings, and rituals. And since Loki just couldn’t keep his hands off him, Tony soon found that he had nothing to complain about.
*****
Much too soon, a soft knock on the door interrupted their pleasant activities. “I’m sorry, but it’s getting late, my dears,” Elfrida told them in a kind voice before withdrawing again.
“She’s risking a lot by helping us,” Loki muttered. “Odin mistrusts all magic people and without mother’s intervention, many of us would have been forced to leave the realm long ago.” Then he stood, and put on the splendid leather doublet Tony had successfully removed after a brief struggle only a few minutes ago. Loki’s face was flushed, and the smith could tell he wanted more.
“If I had my way, I’d strip you naked right here and...”
“Hush, my dear,” Loki interrupted him. He was frowning, and trying to regain control. “I’m not going to make love for the first time in the backroom of a potions shop or in the corner of some disreputable alley.”
Love. Of course my prince demands love and no less, Tony thought. And I’ll give it when he’s ready. “I know,” he answered, simply because there really wasn’t anything else to say. “And I’ll wait for you.” Then he put his hand on the other man’s hip, much closer to Loki’s crotch than strictly necessary, watched him blushing again, and finished his tea.
Loki looked relieved. “Are you going to be at the smithy tomorrow?”
“Yes, and I think I have some questions regarding the breastplate I’m working for you.”
“Such things are best discussed over lunch.”
“Indeed.” Tony looked on as Loki scribbled down the name and address of an inn not far away from the smithy.
“They have private dining rooms,” the prince explained.
“Isn’t that a bit short notice?” Tony knew the place well. It wasn’t large but
extremely well-run, and almost certainly fully booked at this time of year. Especially since they were known for their excellent cooking in the traditional Aesir style.
Loki shrugged. “Well, they shouldn’t have tried to sell contraband liquors from Nidavellir last year then.”
“Listen, you’ll tell me if I should ever get on your bad side?”
“As if you could.” Loki put down a few coin’s on Elfrida’s table. “Come, Tony. I hate to say it but it’s time to leave.”
“Goodnight kiss!” the smith exclaimed, trying to hide his sadness.
“It’s only 16 hours,” Loki whispered before taking him in his arms for a quick goodbye, and Tony didn’t know what made him happier: the kiss and the embrace, or the knowledge that Loki was counting the minutes until their next meeting too.