At one of the tables in the orangery, a book lies open, pages held down against any flopping about by a cell phone on one side and a pair of reading glasses on the other. The handle of the cup of coffee would no doubt do an excellent job of keeping a page down, but it's currently busy sitting in Loki's hand as he looks out across the valley.
     The view is stunning, and his mind's not on it at all. It's probably a sign of being caught too long in his own thoughts that his coffee's had a chance to go lukewarm, and his cell phone has quietly powered itself down into sleep mode. He'd be dressed a little too lightly for roaming about in the proper countryside, but here in a place suited for the climate citrus trees prefer, his coat's been left on the back of the chair and he's in very tidy shirtsleeves.

     Tiernan is strolling through the castle. It's not the first time he's been here; it's not even the third. That being said, he has not been here so many times for the novelty to have worn off - and he has much to think about. He is dressed simply; tan slacks and a white shirt with rust accents, ox-blood red leather dress shoes on his feet. If it were warm enough, he would wear sandals instead.
     He sees you; and it is impolite to ignore you, and he may be many things, but few would call him impolite. He alters his course, accordingly. "Good day," he calls quietly and with a nod to you. "Are you enjoying Wales?" His hair is dark, tinged with silver; a little long, but not very. He looks to be in his mid-thirties, perhaps, with eyes as blue and calm as the Aegean sea.

     Every devil I meet is an angel in disguise...
     There's usually a song running through Loki's head when he's caught staring off into the distance, and this time is no exception. The lyrics fade into the background, leaving only the melody and rhythm running through the back of his mind, as he turns towards you.
     "Good day," he says, one hand sliding into a pocket. He is mildly surprised to find he's still holding that cup of coffee, and it's set down on the table by his crowded book. "Quite a lot, so far. It's interesting to see one of the places Balthazar comes from. And the libraries I've seen are really something."

     He smiles and motions to one of the seats. "May I?" Tiernan inquires. He puts a hand on the back of the seat, in no great haste. "Balthazar never spent much time here, to be honest." He smiles. "But his roots are here, inasmuch as they can be said to be anywhere. Loki, yes? Tiernan. Call me Terry if you like." He holds out a hand.

     "Please." Loki takes your offered hand for a shake with a light grip, and looks authentically pleased that you're staying, which is not the same as a smile. "You have the name right."
     He takes a seat as well, sliding his book to the side. "This place seems built to have history in it. Which now that I say it doesn't really sound quite like I meant it. Every place has history, even if consists of a few millennia of lichen." He disassembles the little pile as he speaks, phone and glasses going back into their appropriate pockets and the book closed on a bookmark taken from another. "But this place feels like it has history that matters, recent or otherwise. We don't have very much of that in America. We tend to build over all our historical sites at the drop of a hat."

     "It is difficult to hold onto the past when you are so eagerly looking to the future," Tiernan agrees, settling comfortably. His handshake is firm but not a contest of strength; his hands are well-calloused, and no stranger to hard work. "I would say that it is the trade-off that Americans make as a nation, but that it is not merely a failing; Americans have great hope, which is something lacking in many other places. It's a very important thing, hope."
     He stretches, sinking with a quiet sigh as if somewhat tired, but smiles gently and warmly enough. "You are enjoying the contrast, though, I take it. I understand that you are in my son's band, and doing some work for my brother-in-law."

     "I do enjoy the contrast. A little disturbance from the ordinary is a marvelous thing for making one sit up and pay attention, if not always, uh, comfortable." Loki tries a sip of his coffee, and stops at that upon realizing just how cold it's gotten. "Son and brother-in-law, yes. It's a lot closer than six degrees, isn't it? I wasn't aware the two of them were related when I ended up working for both of them in different capacities, but it seems to be functioning well enough."

     He smiles but does not comment on six degrees. Whether he gets the reference is debatable, of course, but he lets it slide. "I am sure that with the details - with revelations made - it has been somewhat strenuous," Tiernan answers you. "This family is rather strenuous, in some ways; but they do mean well, usually. They are just a trifle hard on the nerves at times."

     There's no point in denying that it's been stressful. And not always handled with utmost grace, on his part. Loki smiles slantwise. "It's been--challenging. But I'm not unappreciative of the good intentions." Eventually. "I'm still not always entirely sure what I'm doing, or supposed to be doing, though it's easier to tell with Balthazar. 'Good drumming' covers a lot."

     "My son tries hard to make crooked paths straight, and rough edges plain and smooth," Tiernan tells you with a small smile. "Gwilym is - Gwilym is Gwilym. If you are working for him in any capacity you will have learned that he is infuriatingly right, and lovable less for his charm, which is immense, than for the love he gives without realizing he gives it. I have a certain sympathy for your position. Is there anything I or Io can do for you?"*

     "Quite likely," Loki says, "but I don't know what." He looks away a moment, across lines of trees. It really is the kind of place he could sit for hours without thinking of anything much, which probably means he shouldn't. "I keep finding that the problem isn't so much getting answers as knowing what questions to ask in the first place. I lack...context. Cultural and otherwise."
     He looks back to you, with a twitchy shrug that speaks of less comfort than before. "I'd gladly take any advice you're willing to offer, but I don't even know how to define what I need. It's a pity that the job doesn't come with any sort of employee handbook. Maybe I should write one for the sake of whoever comes next."

     "The best advice I can give you is to hold yourself lightly. It is easy to take everything very seriously, and to do so will only cause you irreparable harm." Tiernan tells it to you as gently as he is capable of, turning to look at you quietly. "You are safe, you know; as safe as anyone can be. But I don't think you'd be able to write a handbook. The job, by its definition, will change depending on who is in the role."

     "That makes things a little better. I won't have to feel bad about not leaving someone else detailed notes." It's as much truth as joke, or maybe the other way around. Loki tries his coffee again, having forgotten already that it's cold. And even cold, it is caffeinated, which is more than can be said for just not drinking it. "And I'm sure you're right about not being...overly serious in all of this. It's an easy failing."

     Tiernan smiles, regarding you thoughtfully. "You are very uncomfortable around us. Why is that?"

     "Scaling." Loki pauses a moment to try to explain that more articulately. "Some of it is culture shock, because you're all from a place that's utterly different from anything I knew growing up. But it's more that your family is full of people who have these arcane powers I never would have believed to exist a year ago, or are actual literal gods, or have titles like 'High King' that actually mean something. As inherent, natural parts of who they are."
     "And where I come from, the dominant mythology is inherent equality. That it doesn't or shouldn't matter who your family is, where you're from, who you are, and that everyone is fundamentally equal. And given the same options, the same chances for who they can be some day."
     "It's not true, of course. People are born with talent, they get ahead because of their families, all the usual inequalities. But it's what everyone wants to believe. Here--your entire family is vivid proof that it's not true. People are born naturally superior to everyone else, with inherited power that matters. It's a completely different paradigm from what I come from. And it's a constant reminder that there is, between me and most everyone else here, a very large gap in significance based on inherent nature." He sits back, with another of those twitchy shrugs. "So, yes, I'm uncomfortable, though I try not to be. It's just the way things are."

     He smiles. "The dominant mythology is just a myth though," Tiernan points out calmly. "As much as it is touted, it is not practiced. Some people are lazier than others; some are poorer than others. Some are uglier than others. In every culture, no matter how much equality is preached, it is not practiced. The truth - and it is a painful truth, but one we learn if we grow up - is that all people are not created equal."
     "Some," he continues, watching you as he speaks, "are less blessed; less fortunate. Some are not as smart, are uglier, are crippled, are halt, are lazy, are simply unlucky - there are differences, and we cannot grade all people and all things on an equal balance and still be fair to all people. Doing so would be committing an injustice; you can't handicap the racehorse to run at the lame mule's speed, and you can't demand the lame mule compete with the racehorse. Even in America - I have been there - this does get recognized. Eventually. In place."
     Tiernan takes a moment to look around the orangery before returning his attention to you, expression meditative. "Even among us, we are not all of us powerful magicians. I have very little magic of my own, you know; I can do nothing like what my husband can do, or his brother, or even my sons. They do not pity me for it. What I do, I do extremely well, and I try to learn to do better, for their sake as well as my own. I have," he grins just slightly, "a surfeit of pride, you see, as my husband would be the first to assure you. But I am insignificant, you know. Except in that I am connected to those very powerful people you mention... the same people to whom you are now connected as well."

     "Of course the myth of equality isn't true. But it's very comforting, like so many other myths. 'Justice will be done' or 'Society progresses towards greater enlightenment.'" Loki quirks another smile. "Maybe a little of my problem is wounded pride. I've been told all my life that I matter just as much as anyone else out there, and it really isn't true. My pride doesn't particularly enjoy that my worth is more defined by recent connections than any virtues of my own. It feels...condescending."
     He says a little too briskly, "Which just means I need to get over that. Easier said than done, as with most things. It's never bothered you? That sort of, uh, power gap?"

     "Why do you think that it isn't true?" Tiernan asks it without anger, sounding curious. "If you had no innate worth, your usefulness would be irrelevant. Think of it from the perspective of a job, since you call it such: while the exact details might differ from person to person, there is still work to be done, and if you had no qualities to recommend yourself to that work, you would not have been chosen, yes?"
     He leans forward towards you, resting his palms on his knees. "It might have bothered me, if I did not feel that I had something to offer which was purely innate to myself," Tiernan answers with slightly sad smile. "But I know that I am not interchangeable. I am wanted and desired for who I am and what I can do; that it does not involve magical acts that border upon the miraculous doesn't matter to me, no. To you, it is daunting because it is new. You are adjusting to the fact that magic is real, not just they have magic and I don't. To me... my lack is no more than if I were tone deaf. Worse, in this family of musicians, if I were tone deaf. I don't know that Io would have put up with it."
     He chuckles, but there is a real warmth and sympathy as he turns to look at you again. "They are powerful. But they are also very warm and loving people, and they are real people, in their own right. I understand that you need to keep them on pedestals a bit, for your own comfort, and because you are not ready to let them too close to you. I recommend in the meantime deciding what it is you're going to be the best at, and honing it, and practicing it on whoever and whatever crosses your path. The sooner you have something of your own, even if the root origin of it comes from them, the sooner you will feel less afraid that you will be thrown aside for something newer, shinier and more magical."

     "I don't think I'm worthless. More that it's easier to replace your administrative assistants than your administrators, in most jobs." It's more a peripheral comment than any argument, and Loki's more interested in listening to your explanation than arguing anyway. He is not relaxed, but he knows how to listen.
     "It's easier with Balthazar because what I have to offer isn't something he gave me in the first place. But then, a lot of things are easier around Balthazar." He's leaned forward a little as well, forearms resting on the edge of the table. "Which isn't entirely fair to Gwilym, because he's the one who's working to teach me things. Balthazar just sort of...drips inspiration and comfort. Then it's different again to come here, where I feel more the odd man out. I don't entirely know how to get past that, except by time to acclimate. It's hard to trust anything until it's had more chance to be proven--whether it's how all of this works, or that this isn't a temporary connection--no matter how much I want to believe it's true. Hypotheses don't become theories just by wishing."

     "Gwilym doesn't need you because of the tools he gives you. I don't know what they are, although I can guess." Tiernan smiles faintly, crossing his legs. "But the tools are just that - tools. The same as your drums and drumsticks. They might cost a bit more, so to speak, than the ones you might buy for yourself, and they might seem a little exotic, but..."
     He shrugs and looks at you thoughtfully. "The only one making it a temporary thing is yourself, you know. The longer you hold yourself aloof, the more temporary it's going to remain; because you are the one who remains uncommitted. I think the saying ultimately is, fish or cut bait - for your own sake, if nothing else, you need to decide if you are going to do this or not, and if not, tell Gwilym that you want no part of it."
     Tiernan shrugs gently again. "Gwilym is an honorable man, though he would not thank me for saying so. But even if he were not, my son would not allow anything to happen to you. So your options are there; and it all rests solidly in your own lap, to decide what to do."

     "I told Gwilym already that I mean to see this through." Loki looks down at his hands, and picks up the cup of cold coffee dregs. "It doesn't mean I find the permanence very convincing, but if anything breaks off, it's not going to be because I backed away."
     He looks up to you again, with a shrug. "It is what it is. I'm still learning how to use the tools I've been given, but--I think I'm getting somewhere. I could use more metaphorical sheet music, but I'm not above handling improv work if that's what's required." He sits back slightly to look at you in turn. "I'm afraid I must come across as quite the spoiled brat, to be whining about these kinds of things. I'm sure it'll sort itself out sooner or later, if I keep working at it properly."

     "Spoiled? No. But we are all of us here to help you; if we do not help other people, then what can we call ourselves, really?" Tiernan smiles. "I think you should give it some thought. And if you truly are intending to see this through..."
     He lets it lie there for your consideration.

     "I may complain incessantly," Loki says, not bothering to make any sort of joke out of what's that close to fact, "but I try to keep my promises. You've already given me a lot to think about. More than I expected to get out of the entire trip, to be honest."
     He offers you the ghost of a smile. "So I'll see it through, and at some point I'll be able to help other people in turn. Or so goes the hypothesis."

     "Then I am glad if I helped." Tiernan smiles in return and lifts himself out of the seat slowly. "I fear it is easier to answer your concerns in some ways than those of my son; he is prone to worrying. I would appreciate if you would keep an eye on him, though I would not ask if it is a burden. For now, I had best go find my husband. Is there anything else I might do to aid you?"

     "I'm always happy to keep an eye out for Balthazar," Loki says, somewhat surprised to find he means that entirely honestly and not only as polite intention. "I'll tell you if I think of anything else, but you've already given me a lot to think about. I should probably work on that for now. And--thank you."

     Tiernan smiles slightly. "The only thanks I require is that you do the same for others when the opportunity arises." He bows, holding it for a moment. "Good luck, then. Until next time." And he turns to head inside, head slightly bowed.

Posted by rowan at May 24, 2009 08:07 PM