AN-Sorry for the three month absence. My laptop broke and I just got a new one!

Chapter 5: Arndor

Previously…

He sighed, "I was looking for a record of the current gaurdsmen and soldiers in Asgard's army. I wanted to know ranks and names so that I may scout them—find some that could be persuaded to join my cause willingly. Do not look at me like that, Laurel! I know that you warned me not to steal Odin's army. That is why I want to seek out valuable members, win them over to our side, and approach Odin for a propostition. I want to make a deal with him. But I know that he will not even listen to my words if I lack the supporters in the first place. However, my attempt to look up names and positions was futile. The log book has not been updated in centeries!"

I tilted my head as I remembered what Heimdall had told me. It was now or never. I looked into Loki's eyes and offered up my best response at the moment.

"I have a name for you."

His eyebrows rose in curiosity as he asked, "You do? What is it?"

"Arndor."

The next day, Loki and I departed our chambers at hour forty-one. We set off to find the warrior that Heimdall had informed me about.

"Heimdall mentioned that he usually tends to the airships," I spoke, glancing upwards to meet Loki's gaze briefly as we descended the front steps of the castle.

"That is about a fifteen minute walk from here. The landing for the ships is quite close to the castle," he replied and led me along a main walkway outdoors. As expected, guards were becoming fewer and fewer in number the further we traveled from the main entrance of the castle. We needed to be alone for this meeting. The king wouldn't be too happy if he heard news of our plans.

More than halfway into our walk, I groaned and squinted up at the sky. I was glad that I had chosen the dress I currently wore. The light and breezy fabric kept me from melting entirely in the heat. Nobody else seemed to mind the hot climate though. Perhaps immortals were less sensitive to temperature changes? The sun was also very bright on most days here on Asgard—one reason why the overwhelming majority of its inhabitants held a healthy glow at all times. The people here seemed to soak up its rays and almost emit their own otherworldly light from their skin. Sun-kissed people lived here.

The exception was Loki and I.

I glanced worriedly at my arms and frowned. Did they look a bit pinkish? I only burned and never tanned.

"What is the matter, Laurel?" Loki asked.

"The sun—I don't know how you do it, honestly. I've only been outside a handful of times since I arrived. I think I'm going to become burned soon."

Loki's frown mirrored my own and proceeded to wave his right hand in the following moment. A flash of green shone and then a black umbrella magically appeared in his hands. He held it out to me and commented, "Our sun is slightly closer to Asgard than the star the Earth orbits around. You will find yourself burning much quicker if we are not careful. We cannot have you cooked to a crisp, now can we?"

I took the item and thanked him with a smile and a laugh. "No, that would be very bad. Why aren't you bothered by it? You are just as pale as I am—if not more so."

He tilted his head slightly and pursed his lips, "I am neither Asgardian nor human. I am a Jotun."

I bit my lip as I suddenly remembered, fearing that my question was in poor taste, until Loki took my hand in his and continued speaking. "Do not fret. All is well. Look, we are nearly there."

We approached a vast, ivory colored building. The roof pulled back before our very eyes and unleashed two small aircrafts. They were round, golden, and seemed to be powered by an amber energy that glowed below each ship. A mechanical feature then proceeded to close the roof over the large building that I presumed to hold many more ships just like the two I had seen a moment ago. A man walked out a wide doorway, covered in sweat and dirt, and approached us.

"Prince Loki, what a surprise. What are you in need of?" the man asked in a careful tone. He seemed rather unsure of how to go about our arrival and I got the idea that he had met Loki before. I also got an impression that he wasn't too fond of him, either.

"Mads, this is Laurel. Laurel, this Mads."

The man, whose name was pronounced like mass, nodded once in my direction and then raised an eyebrow at Loki expectedly.

"Laurel and I are looking for a man who may work with the air ships. He goes by the name of Arndor. Is he here?" Loki inquired. Mass looked suspicious, as if he suspected Loki and I to be plotting something—which in a sense we were, but he complied after a slight pause. "He is assigned to group four."

Loki thanked him curtly and motioned for me to follow him into the building. I gave Mads a thankful smile and closed my umbrella as I stepped under the shade of the facility.

The entire space was vast with high ceilings arching up above our heads. Mechanical gears attached to the walls opened up doors in the ceiling, reminding me of a convertible car, in order to let the strange aircrafts come and go. Rows upon rows of the foreign vehicles were lined up neatly. Some were ignored by the crew, probably powered down at the moment, while others were being tended to. Up close, I could see that the air ships were about the size of a very big van or SUV—much larger than I expected. As I followed Loki down the center row of the room, men clamored about in leather gear. They were shouting orders and running about hastily, yet working together like specialized cells of an organ in a body. Everyone had a job to do and there seemed to be order to all the chaos.

To my left, an air ship similar to the ones I saw flying earlier, was strung up and being worked on. Its outer shell was stripped off to reveal the inner parts for maintenance. On my right was a much larger ship, bigger than my house back on Earth, and a metal bridge led up to the entrance. The front and sides of the air ship housed machinery that whirred and glowed as the workers powered up the vehicle. It looked quite intimidating to stand near and I very much wanted to step out of aim just in case something went wrong and it accidentally fired.

"That is a war vessel," Loki's voice reached my ears. I turned around and he took my hand in his to lead me away. "Do not get too close."

"Are there more?" I asked curiously.

He nodded and laughed lightly, "There are dozens more where that came from—nearly a hundred, perhaps. They are housed on the level below us. With any luck, we will acquire a few for our mission."

Moments later, we approached a few men working on a badly damaged air ship. One of the workers, a man with a long scar down the side of his face, paused what he was doing once he saw Loki and I.

"Loki Odinson, what brings you to the Aviary?" he questioned.

My eyebrows furrowed at his words until I remembered that, despite the fact that every Asgardian knew Loki was adopted, only a handful of people knew that Loki was the son of Laufey. For all intents and purposes, he was still referred to as Odinson. His parentage was not public information.

"The Aviary? Is that what you call this place? How proper to name it so—a home for birds and apparently also the dwelling place for Asgard's birds of prey," Loki motioned towards the beat-up looking ship nearest to us. "How…charming."

The man crossed his arms over his chest and sighed wearily, "What do you want, Prince Loki?"

"Where is the man who calls himself Arndor?"

The moment the name was spoken, the man's eyes narrowed. He turned to usher the other crewman away, muttering something about a 'private matter with the crown'. Once the area was cleared out in this smaller section of the building, the man turned back to Loki and I. "I am Arndor. If I am involved in an issue with the King, these other men were surely not. They are to be left out of it," he spoke.

Loki raised an eyebrow, "Fair enough…but what makes you assume it is an issue with Odin?"

"It is always an issue with King Odin."

Loki turned to me and raised an eyebrow. A glimmer shone in his eyes and his expression told me, 'Now we are talking'. Heimdall must really know his stuff if he sent us to a man that already has issues with the king.

"Go on," he urged Arndor to continue.

Arndor sighed, "The king put me in charge of the fleet many years ago—long before you were brought into the house of Odin. In the heat of battle, I acted in the best interest of the people rather than listening to his direct orders. We won, but not without losing some of our own men. After the battle was over, the king was outraged. He demoted me to the maintenance crew from Fleetmaster and had my name—my real name struck out of the records. I used to go by Endre back then."

"That must have hurt," Loki commented. "I do not suppose you hold him highly anymore."

Arndor glared, "Well I suppose if you are here to arrest me, I might as well be truthful. I detest the old man. You can bring in the guards now."

"You are not the only one," Loki scoffed. "However…we are not here to arrest you. There are no guards waiting outside to detain you. It is just us. We would like to know if you could put together a team of men for battle. We got your name from a very reliable source and if you would like to earn back your title, fighting for us would be the best shot."

The man gave us an incredulous look. "Fight for the adopted prince and a mortal woman? What is your cause? Who are you anyways?" he asked, turning towards me.

My eyebrows rose in slight alarm. I had thought that the clothes I wear would help out a little. Even if I was paler than most Asgardians, it usually took longer than a few seconds for someone to come to that conclusion if they weren't previously informed, like the staff at the castle. Anyone working there knew that if they came across a pale woman with dark hair, she was the wounded mortal that Prince Loki had saved from Midgard. But now, we had enough distance between us and the castle that I thought no one had heard of me. Curious, I abruptly joined the conversation for the first time.

"Wait…you can tell I am a mortal that quickly? How—"

"You are not that difficult to discern. I can practically smell the mortality coming from you, girl. Who are you?"

Loki spoke next before I could answer an expression of slight awe on his face. "You are one of the Dark Children, are you not, Arndor—or should I rightly call you Endre? That is how you could pick up the scent of mortality. You are the offspring of a Dark Elf of Svartalfheim and an Asgardian. Odin found out, did he not? That is why he demoted you."

Arndor's face changed in that moment, becoming grim and sad with a mixture of bitterness and anger. "Odin cast me out of the Masters of the Fleet once he knew. All I ever did was fight for Asgard—Asgard is my home!"

"And he allowed you to stay," Loki continued. "But he could not have a Dark Child as a leader of the fleet. He kept your secret but never thought of you as the same man before. I shall keep your secret as well, but I urge you to consider my deal. Gather yourself a group of men willing to stand up in front of Odin. Rather than stealing an army from him, I need one to volunteer for my cause. Fight for me and you shall have a new title and respect that he would not dare give you."

Arndor was silent.

Loki grinned, satisfied, as he took my hand in his and began to lead me away. As we walked towards the exit of the Aviary, he called out to Arndor. "Consider my deal, Arndor. I will give you more information within the week. As for the woman with me, she is the lady Laurel. If you have not yet heard of her…you will."

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