"No time for fiddling with that," said Loki. “I still don’t know why you mess with those things when you can fly.”
“What about you and your squashed, brightly colored cars? You can fly, why do you drive those things?”
“Touché.” Loki inclined his head.
“Besides,” said Thor. “I like taking them apart and rebuilding them the way I want them. Gives me something to focus on.” He didn’t say it gave him something to focus on, so he didn’t think about his failure to stop Ragnarök and the death of all their people.
Thor walked to his workbench and lifted his ancient hammer. Mjölnir had begun to feel heavier in his hand in the past century. He wasn't sure if it was because of the things he'd done, or the things he hadn't, but he didn't care. The Thor of legend was no more, and what remained of him was nothing but a scarred shell.
"My car is out front." Loki headed to the exit.
"I can make my own way there." Thor lifted his hammer to the sky and, as always, disappeared in a flash of light.
Thor slammed onto the lawn in front of Frigg's mansion, making several people jump. The mansion rose behind a giant stone fountain like a relic of old Asgard transplanted into the Underworld. Pale stone walls threaded with climbing ivy, tall arched windows framed in white oak, and a pitched slate roof that disappeared into the perpetual cool haze overhead. No sun in Helheim, never sun, just the ambient glow of Helheim's ethereal illumination bleeding through the sky like a moon trapped behind gauze. The air smelled of rose petals and champagne, obviously a scent Frigg had conjured for the occasion. Gold-and-rust-colored leaves from the row of birch trees lining the cobblestone drive drifted across the grass in lazy spirals, pushed by an unseen breeze.
The center of the lawn in front of her estate sported a fountain carved from veined gray marble, depicting two ravens mid-flight, water arcing from their open beaks into a wide basin tinged green with age. The blush-colored rose hedges flanking it were still heavy with late blooms, their fragrance thick enough to taste, sweet and overwhelming, cutting through the mineral coolness of Helheim’s air. Somewhere beyond the hedges, the low murmur of conversation, the clink of glasses, and dance music floated toward him.
Amongst the bushes and the fountain, several of Frigg's cats played and chased each other while various people watched. A fat orange tabby batted at a fallen rose petal while a sleek black cat with a crooked tail stalked through the hedgerow, belly low to the ground. A third, gray, imperious, the eldest, sat on the fountain's rim and watched the proceedings with the disdain of a creature who had outlived empires. At least five more cats scattered across the lawn, weaving between the legs of guests who stood in loose clusters on the grass, holding drinks and picking at plates of food balanced on the stone garden benches. The distant trill of a bird echoed from somewhere in the birch trees, mixing with the splash of fountain water and the cats' occasional chirping at each other.
He stowed Mjölnir in his inner coat pocket and strode to the door. A bluish-skinned man with protruding tusks nodded and let Thor in without so much as a questioning glance. One of the perks of being an immortal god who had thousands of stories made up about him over the centuries meant no one questioned who he was or his purpose for being somewhere.
He entered through the open stained-glass double door, and his gut clenched at the sight of the crimson and petal colored explosion that had taken over his mother’s home. Frigg's private quarters had been transformed into a florist's fever dream. Garlands of dried roses in dusty mauve and deep burgundy draped from the ceiling beams, their papery petals floating down to land silently against the floor.
Silk ribbons in shades of cream and gold coiled around every chair back and bannister, and the long dining tables disappeared beneath towers of wine glasses, food plates, and desserts. Someone had stoked the hearth until the air felt thick, almost humid. Yggdrasil-patterned wallpaper peeked between swags of tulle, pinned with rune-etched brooches that glinted with silver and diamond under the ethereal overhead lights. Immortals moved around talking and dancing, drinking and eating. A feast for the senses. A light, soothing scent he couldn’t place tickled his nose and made him relax a fraction. Frigg’s own magic conjured a scent for each individual being. All based on what the being needed to help them relax and prevent fights. Masked eyes turned his direction, but then turned away. Well, this was going to be fun.
He spotted Frigg floating between tables in the room, talking and laughing. She stopped and turned, spotting him. She excused herself and headed his way.
"Has it been six months already?" She handed him a golden mask that materialized out of the air.
"Mother." Thor stared at the mask and snorted.
“I think it fits you.”
He shook his head and affixed the mask to his face, not that it would do any good at hiding who he was.
"Let's hope this time you find what you are looking for."
"I'm never looking," he said. “You are.”
Frigg's smile didn't waver. "Then let's hope someone else finds what they are looking for in you."
Thor nodded and turned toward the bar, but paused. "Oh, I almost forgot, Loki is coming as well. He's running late."
Frigg rolled her eyes. "When is he not?"
Thor smiled and kissed Frigg’s cheek. “You look well, mother.”
She touched his face. “I wish I could say the same of you, but-” She stopped and looked over his shoulder. She smiled.
“Mingle and talk to someone new tonight, all right? For me?”
Thor couldn’t promise anything, but he would at least try. If for nothing more than to keep her from making him come back for another six months.
Elle stared across the beautiful, expansive grounds of the mansion, where people milled. "Are you sure this is where Lady Frigg said we were to meet Loki?"
Val glanced through the gold gates, then at the paper in her hand again, before showing it to Elle.
Lady Frigg’s mansion was all the paper said, and it was pretty hard to miss her mansion in Helheim. Especially the giant golden plaque over the ornate metal gates, bearing the images of two enormous cats. This was definitely the place. But it didn't look like a place to have a business meeting.
