In Loki's Honor

Great Library, Niðavellir city, Svartalfheim Kingdom, Myrkheim.

The Dvergar that happened to be around stared at the odd guest. Clad in his best clothes and wearing armor worthy of Gods, the visitor from Asgard was not welcome there. The sons of Ivaldi still nursed their hurt pride thousands of years later. Never mind Brokkr or Sindri. The passersby were more worried about those two raising a ruckus than what the Trickster wanted with this visit.

These ancient halls where the Dvergar stored their knowledge were hallowed, second only to the Royal palace. Works of poetry, sagas, technical manuals, romances, records, journals, and so on. Tomes and printed media from all the nine realms found their way here, forevermore preserved until the days of Ragnarök. Its columns of granite and basalt stood imponent, trimmed and accented by metals most precious.

To have the half-Jotunn set foot inside it was an offense. Many Dvergar breathed with relief when Loki stopped before the last step. There, the Asgardian waited with unnatural patience. His face was relaxed but unreadable. The most perceptive noticed a faint smirk on his face. When the God of Mischief was amused, the world wept.

It took some time but someone brave enough to face Loki appeared. He towered even among Dvergar and the Asgardian in his current form only reached up to his chest. Ragnar, Lorekeeper and Chief Librarian and confident of King Hreiðmar himself. A man who demanded respect and admiration of his fellows.

"I see before my eyes Loki, son of Fárbauti and Laufey. Here he stands, at the footsteps of the Great Library, yet he dared not trespass. I find no offense perpetrated by him so far though I cannot extend hospitality and welcome him. For many of my brethren still resent his machinations. It is so that I inquire, what could possibly bring the Trickster to my library's door."

By acknowledging but not addressing Loki, Ragnar kept himself from committing either way. Depending on Loki's next words, the Lorekeeper would decide one way or another.

Loki beamed a friendly smile. "Ragnar, the wise. Lorekeeper of Svartalfheim, King Hreiðmar's librarian and confident, most exalted and honored among the Dvergar you are. I came seeking not conflict or mischief. No bets, challenges, contests, or bamboozling shall take place today by my initiative. Of that you have my word, on my honor."

The half-Jotunn then sealed his words with a slight bow, fifteen degrees only. From a God to a Dvergar, it was enough to quell the unrest of the small crowd of dark-skinned Dvergar watching the exchange from afar.

"I accept your words in the spirit they were given, Loki. Though we are eternal, so too are the burdens we carry in our lives. I'm afraid I have little time to spare. Speak your mind freely if it is indeed devoid of insult nor challenge."

"It is those very eternal tasks and burdens that brought me here today, Lorekeeper Ragnar," Loki said with a flourish. "I wish to offer you aid."

"Aid?" Ragnar stifled a scoff and a chortle. He loathed to offend the Asgardian and be the one to initiate hostilities.

"Indeed," Loki continued as if he hadn't noticed the Dvergar's slip. "A Goddess under my tutelage, currently inhabiting the form of a book mimic. You would do me a favor if you could take her under your wing for some time and teach her a thing or two."

"And what is this that I should teach her?"

"Etiquette. How to behave among her peers and betters. Wisdom. Impart upon her some nuggets of your vast experience."

Ragnar withdrew into his thoughts. It was obvious that Loki had other hidden intentions. This Goddess was a plant. Someone whom he wished to have open access granted to his library. What did he want inside? Steal a tome? Copy some information?

"I doubt this Goddess would be of any help to the Great Library, Loki. Tell me, how do you think she might be able to help?"

"She shall share her story. The tale of a newborn Realm, of foolish mortals who tried to climb the heavens, of her struggles. The knowledge created by that world. She holds it all. The Chronicles of a lesser Realm. Also, she may share with you her child but I cannot promise you that."

"What progeny does this Goddess gave birth to?" Ragnar eyed the Trickster with caution.

"Many species she claims ancestry to. But one that might be of your interest, Librarian, are the book mimics. A species of mimic that thrives on paper, cloth, and fine wood fiber alone, one that devours knowledge and wisdom instead of flesh and blood. Small living tomes that can bind to mages as familiars."

Ragnar's breath caught. His curiosity was stoked masterfully, as one ought to be after heeding the honeyed words of the Trickster. But one thing jumped out more than the others. "They eat knowledge?"

"Sorry, sorry," Loki chuckled twice. "I misspoke. They do not consume knowledge but replicate them. The little tomes can write on themselves. Also, they make an adhesive that is absolutely perfect to bind books with. Soft on the parchment, tough on the elements. Here, a sample vial. See if you like it."

Ragnar's arm twitched but didn't move. He knew better than take gifts from Loki.

"I swear by the All-Father's lost eye this is just a gift without any implications or consequences. Other than an attempt at swaying your opinion and getting my request granted. The vial and its contents are harmless and exactly what I stated. An adhesive most adequate for bookbinding."

A bribe then. But such oaths weren't given idly. Now that the half-Jotunn had gone and swore it, he had little choice. Ragnar took the vial lest he offended Loki. Not a path the wise would willingly take when the alternative was just to take the damn vial.

"I will test this adhesive myself."

"Good! Good! Would you allow this Goddess a brief tutelage under your wing? I promise she'll be of great help."

"I cannot answer that without my King's acquiescence. I will give you an answer as soon as we decide anything."

"That's all I ask. I'll take my leave before some sullen smiths show up. This might be for the best."

"Indeed, it is. Farewell, Trickster," Ragnar said without breaking eye contact.

Loki nodded, smiled, and vanished.