The Quest for Excalibur: Chapter Three: The Trickster
Summoning Norse Gods usually made Arya nauseous for the simple fact that she loathed them with every fiber in her body. They were arrogant, selfish, vulgar Gods whose only relevance was to fuel the power of their last worshipers. The Iero family-- Arya’s family. And with each generation, the first born child would be picked by that year’s chosen deity to serve as their Champion. Although the Champion would have stronger magical power than the rest of the family, they were subject to constant ridicule, humiliation and harassment by the rest of the Gods sitting atop Asgard.
Arya Iero was the filthy, virgin Champion of Odin. Every second she spent alive, the most bloodlust she grew towards the Norse. One day, she’d figure out a plan to strike them down and keep her magic. But not today.
Lucas (or Low Key, formerly Loki) was the only Norse deity Arya liked. For one thing, he was the outsider among them. The bastard Frost Giant. The adopted nuisance. He would never be like the rest of his cruel, perverted family, which he was more than fine with. They were an embarrassment to him. For another thing, he allied himself with the New Gods that arose and replaced the Greeks, Romans, Norse, Egyptians and Hindi. So he technically wasn’t qualified as Norse anymore, something Arya admired. Finally, there were those few unfortunate events that Lucas never spared to bring up during one of his “Anti-Asgard” tirades.
“Because when you get fucked by a horse, you get fucked.” Arya kept the imagery to a minimum and took a sip from the glass of... some liquor Lucas offered to her, trying not to gag. “And that ain’t even the worst of it. Giving birth-- holy shit, dude. It felt like my poor vag tore to shreds. I am completely serious here. For the Gods’ sake, Arya, because I like you, never get knocked up. It will be the worst decision you’ve ever made.”
“Right,” she agreed, awkward, clearing her throat. “So, um, how’s Wren?” She wanted nothing more than to move on from the subject. Lucas’s sour attitude instantly brightened at the mention of his former apprentice.
“Oh, she’s been great! I just talked to her not too long ago. Totally has the goddess thing down now. Took her long enough. I started mentorin’ her, like, twenty years ago.”
“Uhuh.” Arya thought that the lounge that every supernatural creature went to, The Wishing Well, was a neutral place for them to talk business. She totally forgot about Lucas’s short attention span. He was pretty much everywhere at once; buying drinks, making it rain, talking circles around her… Arya’s eyes met with Eran’s, the vampire who tended the bar during the day and who was also leader of the Dracula Clan. He looked more than amused. Arya scowled and flipped him off. Unfortunately, Lucas noticed and grinned from ear-to-ear at her.
“Oh, I think I see what’s goin’ on here. Who knew you were into Eran? Although he’s such a dreamy, sparkling, mysterious vampire,” he cooed playfully, ruffling Arya’s hair when her face pinkened. “But I should mention that he’s centuries older than you, kiddo.... And he don’t sparkle.”
The Champion groaned, throwing her head back in frustration. “Lucas, look. I need your help with something and I’ve been trying to talk to you about it for the last two hours, but you haven’t listened to me at all. So can you just--”
“You want my blessing so you can go find Excalibur.” Arya stared dumbstruck at him for several minutes. Lucas just sat down on the chaise across from her, smirking.
“H-How did you know…?”
“Because let’s be honest, girly. You never call me just to mingle. It’s either you want something or the kids wanna visit their old man… slash madre. Plus, I saw the video of those kids getting mauled. The reason I didn’t say nothin’ about it earlier is cuz I was waiting on you to be assertive. Take charge. I like being dominated sometimes.” He winked playfully at her, making her eye twitch.
“You’re insufferable.”
“The best annoyance there is,” he laughed, suddenly sitting next to her with his arm draped over her shoulders. “But of course I’ll give you my blessing. I’m not a cunt like the rest of the Norse after all. I’m just your standard, everyday bag of dicks.” Arya shook her head with a lazy smile.
“Thanks,” she said, brushing some hair out of her face.
“No problemo.” Opening up his hand, he held a silver-studded earring that looked nothing like the one he was already wearing. “That’s your ticket to King Arthur’s burial ground. Here.” Fingering her hair behind her left ear, he latched the stud in place for her. “There ya go. Don’t lose it. And especially don’t take it out once you’re in there. If it’s not on at all times, you’ll get stuck in there for eternity. And that would be absolute shit.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Arya turned to him with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m assuming you want payment now?”
“Payment, huh? I didn’t really think that far…” He scratched under his chin, lost in thought. “But I guess there’s one thing.” He met her eyes seriously, a firm frown on his face. Arya had never seen him look like that before. “I’m sure you know that if you do succeed in pulling out Excalibur, you own a God Killer. Only a complete idiot wouldn’t know what you’d do next. Lucky for you, my family’s full of complete idiots. But I’m not.” He lowered his voice to point Arya barely heard him over the booming music. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you all these years. Leave me off your list.”
“You were never on my list to begin with,” Arya said, just as serious. “I like you. I wouldn’t betray a friend like that.” It didn’t take much for Lucas to beam with a loud awww! that disturbed some nearby strippers. He threw his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly and nuzzling his cheek against her’s.
“You like me! You really, really like me!” Arya fought off the embarrassed groan bubbling in her mouth. This already felt like a long trip…