Dear readers, tonight with us is a god, one refusing to have his life obliterated by some stuffy prophecy. He is here to tell us about proving himself to others, and the complications of loving a mortal woman.
Tell us a little about where you grew up. What was it like there?
I grew up in a realm called Jotunheim, a rugged place of mountains, pine forests, and thicker pine forests.
On harsh winter nights, Jotuns believe nothing warms the blood faster than a drunken brawl and a broken nose. This is why I’m quite skilled with daggers and knives. If one wants to survive Jotunheim, one has no choice but to become a fighter.
While I didn’t mind Jotunheim, I didn’t have much of a place there. Not to mention no one could take a joke. Turn someone into a salamander one time and it’s all “we can’t trust you.” I really didn’t see the big deal.
Do you have any favorite memories?
I’d have to say becoming a god is quite the highlight of my many millennia of life. Immortality has its perks. What? You thought we were born gods? Sorry for laughing. Don’t worry, it’s a common misperception.
We’ve always been made. Odin searched for others like him who contained elements. Energy. Like Thor’s of thunder, or Freya’s of love. He collected us like precious jewels for his kingdom of Asgard and transformed us into gods like him.
And one day, he found me: Chaos.
Odin made me a god, and then, he offered me something greater. We mixed our blood and swore an oath of fealty, binding us one to the other.
Now there’s a man who drives me to drink heavily. He’s like a summer storm. Ruthless, ambitious, strong-jawed…He meant everything to me, and then things got complicated.
But, I rather not get into all that delightful history.
What are your duties as the God of Chaos now that you live in Asgard?
I’m what might commonly be referred to as a “Fixer.”
Negotiations with an enemy realm? Easy. An assassination or three? Done. Some light thievery? Of course.
I can always offer a solution to any problem of any size. It’s what makes me extremely useful to Odin, and keeps the other gods extremely jealous. I love it.
I’m not called the sly-god because of my good looks.
(The fact I might be the cause of many of the problems in Asgard is beside the point)
I know my job isn’t the most honest of professions. Sometimes I do get a shiver of guilt. A small, nagging voice in the back of my mind begs me to be a better man. To be a good person.
I find whacking it with a sturdy shovel and piling another thick layer of dirt overtop shuts it up nicely.Continue reading “Loki Laufeyjarson (of Truth and Other Lies, by Lyra Wolf)”