"I never expected my disciple to so conveniently transport Thor away," the Sorcerer Supreme remarked, sipping a potent spirit with the composure of one drinking tea.
"Good thing you alerted Heimdall; otherwise, the coincidence would have been too perfect," Frigga commented as she set down her glass. "I suspected Solomon might notice something was amiss. After all, I had him execute this plan but ensured the outcome matched what would have happened anyway. I can only imagine how many questions he must have."
"It doesn't matter," Odin said dismissively, placing Gungnir casually on the table. The room held only three people—Odin, Frigga, and the Sorcerer Supreme. Neither Sif nor Jane Foster was privy to the brewing conspiracy. "This performance isn't for your disciple; it's for Thor and Loki. You can tell Solomon the truth as long as he can convincingly play his part."
Odin's face took on the expression of a parent realizing their child's talents didn't include academics—a mix of frustration and resolve. "Those two boys… They need to learn to lead Asgard after my 'death.' Only their unity can maintain Asgard's status as a cosmic empire. Honestly, if the Thor from a parallel universe could meet this one, maybe he'd start listening to advice."
Frigga cheerfully poured more drinks for the Sorcerer Supreme and the Allfather, even serving herself a glass. She seemed utterly unbothered by the scheme, despite being a key player in it.
The Sorcerer Supreme's mild expression finally cracked.
"Your parenting is appalling, Odin," he muttered. "Why am I the one helping you raise your children? Thor and Loki are both my age! Do all Asgardians mature this slowly, mentally?"
"Only Thor can stop Hela, and you'll be retired by then," Odin replied patiently. "We need Thor to awaken his true power. Without him, the Nine Realms will face war again. And without Asgard, Midgard will have to fend off threats from the material universe. This partnership between us has lasted ages—it's the pact I made with Agamotto. If necessary, we'll guide Thor through a ritual sacrifice to gain Rune Magic. As Sorcerer Supreme, it's your call. After all, for us, death is merely a state."
"Get on with it," the Sorcerer Supreme waved impatiently. "But we need to stage this properly. I'll also need to modify Sif's and Jane Foster's memories and add witnesses. This is a big deal. Frigga, care to share your thoughts?"
Frigga shrugged. "I'm looking forward to Thor's face when he sees me again," she said with a smile. "And Loki's. I'm sure there's a soft spot in his heart somewhere—he might even cry."
Odin snorted disdainfully, earning a glare from Frigga.
"Alright, Odin," the Sorcerer Supreme continued, drawing the Allfather's attention. "In return, you'll need to educate my disciple. You'll have to share some of the secrets of this world, things even I don't know. Only then will this trade be fair."
"What do you want me to tell him? The reason I founded Asgard?" Odin asked. "Do you want him to become a god—a true god?"
The Sorcerer Supreme didn't deny it.
"It's merely a contingency," he explained. "A path for Solomon to take before he succumbs to madness."
The once-clean towel was now filthy as Dany carefully wiped the mud from Thor's long hair. Thor sat contentedly in a chair, regaling the boys at the table with tales of quelling rebellions across the Nine Realms. Mjölnir rested obediently on the table's corner, a stark contrast to the urgency it had shown earlier.
Meanwhile, Solomon cleaned his clothes and face by himself, requesting a damp cloth to meticulously wipe the phoenix's beak and talons. The pond's sole survivor, the ancient frog, now rested comfortably in a plastic basin Dany had provided, enjoying clean water and oxygen at Solomon's feet.
On the table were steaming tea and biscuits, prepared according to Solomon's preference: tea with sugar but no milk. He detested the murkiness milk created.
Dany's mother, a passionate fan of fantasy novels, had entered an excited state upon seeing Thor. She had enthusiastically prepared tea and biscuits and even brought out books and photos for Thor to sign. Solomon, by contrast, had been completely ignored—a development he didn't mind. He preferred staying out of the spotlight.
Taking a sip of tea, Solomon let out a contented sigh. "The tea in America is terrible," he remarked, setting down his quill. "Only in Britain can you find proper Ceylon tea. Asgardian food is far too greasy; I wouldn't survive without tea. I should have brought more."
"Not bad," Thor said after a sip. "But I'd prefer some beer. Thank you, ma'am, you've been most kind."
Dany's mother smiled as she handed Thor a beer, then took a deep breath and pulled up a chair opposite Solomon, her expression a mix of poise and exaggerated decorum. Her messy red hair matched her daughter's, and her smile was just as sweet.
Solomon realized she wasn't done with him yet. Thor's autograph session had merely been a warm-up.
"Are there magic schools in this world? At what age can you enroll? Are there many wizards here? Does everyone attend a magic school? Is there a Dark Lord? Are the stories of Arthur and Merlin true? Do wizards need to ride brooms? Is Quidditch real? Can you buy wands in London? What's the currency in the magical world? What are you writing—is it homework? Are the professors strict? Where do students work after graduation?"
The rapid-fire questions nearly knocked Solomon off his chair. He hadn't expected Dany's mother to be so enthusiastic, especially since she had just helped wrap the cursed warrior's corpse in a tarp. Did nothing faze this woman?
Particularly insistent was her questioning about the Knight of New York. She seemed convinced Solomon knew him—after all, where there's magic, there's Merlin; where there's Merlin, there's Arthur.
Under such fervent hospitality, Solomon couldn't very well claim to be the Knight of New York to brush her off.
Wait… I am the Knight of New York.
Looking troubled, Solomon lowered his head and continued writing silently on parchment. Dany's mother, unfazed by his apparent rudeness, grew increasingly intrigued by his environment—and his face, which seemed oddly familiar to her.
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