I don't know if anyone even noticed that tomorrow (3rd) it's 6 months since I last posted anything in Tumblr.
There's been a lot of health issues like 2 surgeries, lump in breast, shingles and a bad fall in the night in my house when I needed a neighbour to use her emergency key to my house to get help in.
Many weeks on the bed and on crutches let me turn to my most favourite game to play. Hay Day. That's what I do now.
Mike Flanagan’s latest Stephen King adaptation eschews horror for a life-affirming take on the end of the world. Stars Tom Hiddleston and Ch
A triptych which tackles one seemingly ordinary accountant’s connection to the end of the world, The Life of Chuck is writer-director Mike Flanagan’s third Stephen King feature adaptation but the first that isn’t horror. There are certainly terrifying elements of the reverse chronology story as it looks at three key parts of Charles ‘Chuck’ Krantz’s life, but the emphasis is more on the joy of living, with a light fantasy / sci-fi dimension. This depiction of life is more of a piece with King adaptations such as The Shawshank Redemption (1994) and The Green Mile (1999).
Chuck is played as an adult by Tom Hiddleston, whose most significant contribution is in the film’s middle section, when Chuck sees a drumming busker while on a break from a banking conference and dances with great vim to the adulation of passers-by. Meanwhile, Chiwetel Ejiofor – another British actor playing an American – leads the opening section, a moving and philosophical sequence depicting the world grinding to a halt. Ejiofor stars as teacher Marty, who fleetingly reunites with his ex-wife (Karen Gillan) as things fall apart and also shares a touching scene with a neighbour, played by Scream (1996) star Matthew Lillard. Chuck’s childhood is depicted in the film’s final act, with Star Wars (1977) stalwart Mark Hamill and Mia Sara featuring as Chuck’s loving paternal grandparents after the death of his parents.
Erudite and engaging interviewees, Hiddleston and Ejiofor sat down in a central London hotel to discuss the film. They pondered their favourite King adaptation, what makes Flanagan a successful filmmaker and why Hiddleston hasn’t directed a film yet.
Lou Thomas: What was the first thing that intrigued you when you read the script?
Tom Hiddleston: The mystery, the structure, which I thought was completely ingenious and original, and the question mark of Chuck – Charles Krantz, who Mike Flanagan had asked me to play – who seems for all the world to be an ordinary man and is revealed to be so much more.
Mike has received plaudits for his TV and film work, particularly with his genre pieces. What’s the secret of his success?
Ejiofor: He has this way of creating a tone and an atmosphere. It’s because everything is very deeply curated, in the way that he puts the films together, and the way that he casts, the way that he gets the heads of department, and the crew, and everybody – in some ways more than I’ve ever felt before – making the same film. Everybody is invested in the same things, and it’s really him at the centre of all of that.
Hiddleston: He put his heart and soul into this, and the challenge, the great offering to all of us is to commit as much heart and soul as he has. I think he’s incredibly faithful to Stephen King as well. He really understands that all of Stephen King’s work comes from a very wise understanding of the experience of being alive. Stephen King doesn’t flinch looking at any aspect of life, but he lands always somehow on the side of life, even if he’s exploring something that seems antithetical to it.
What’s your favourite Stephen King adaptation?
Ejiofor: The Shawshank Redemption. It had such an amazing impact. In terms of the characters, in terms of what they’re talking to, and also the structure of that. The fact that it’s a mystery that writes itself into a corner. And then Rita Hayworth.
Hiddleston: There’s a little Easter egg that you probably noticed, but the movie that Marty is watching at home, while the world is coming to an end, is Cover Girl [1944] starring Gene Kelly and Rita Hayworth. The Shawshank Redemption is based on a Stephen King story called ‘Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption’. So, there’s a nice little Stephen King connection moment happening.
I watched Shawshank at a really formative time in my life. I must have been 14 or 15, and it just really hit me. I was so moved by it. Like Chiwetel is saying, it’s a mystery, and it seems to be a story about an institution or a man who’s wrongfully accused of murder – and how do you survive a brutal institution? But it isn’t about that at all. Of course, it is, but it’s also about friendship and connection, and that human connection is really the only reason for living, the proper business of living, whether you are behind the walls of an institution or outside them. And the last 20 minutes of that film are some of the most moving sequences I think I’ve ever seen.
The Life of Chuck prominently features a huge catastrophe. If the world was ending tomorrow, how would you spend the remaining time?
Hiddleston: With family, if I could get to them. Maybe I’d do all the things I normally do. Well, not all of them, but ones I love doing: have unhurried conversations, take the dog for a walk, nice plate of scrambled eggs. It’d be hard. You wouldn’t want to put too much pressure on stuff, my hunch is, if you could get to the people you loved and hold them close.
Tom, your dancing scene is one of the most joyous scenes I’ve seen in a film this year. How into dancing were you before? Did you have to do much training, and how did it feel when you finally got it down?
Hiddleston: I’ve always liked dancing, but it’s really been like a thing we all do at parties and weddings, and I think a good wedding always finishes on the dancefloor. But I didn’t have the classical training in a way that Chuck had, so I had to at least make some strides towards that. I had an amazing team of choreographers led by Mandy Moore in Los Angeles, and Stephanie Powell in London, and Mandy works with someone else called Jonathan Redavid who taught me how to moonwalk, which was part of the deal.
With Stephanie and with Mandy, I got a fast-track, amazing speed run at jazz, swing, cha-cha, the Charleston, the bossa nova and the salsa, and the samba and the polka, and all these different styles, which was really thrilling and humbling. I certainly met my limitations. But it gave me such respect for dancers, and the mobility and agility and athleticism that they have. It’s a really extraordinary thing to get close to the combination of freedom and precision that great dancers have. But when the day came, that was what it was about, it was about joy and freedom. So, I tried to commit to that.
This film tackles big themes like love and life and death. Do you think the film has any overriding message, and if so, what is it?
Ejiofor: It’s this idea of all of the memories that we have, and all of the people that populate our consciousness and our subconscious. Some of the people that we think about that are very near have this very impactful influence on our lives. But there are people that we don’t think about very often, or haven’t thought about in years, that are still there. And actually, there’s something very comforting to me about the idea that even people that you meet once – that you only cross over with just on a random occasion, or just pass in the street – are still there, they’re still in the universe, and you are in theirs, in the universe of your mind, and you still hold them all, even though you think in that brief moment, I’ll never see or never encounter this person again in my life.
The film is full of these lovely little magic moments. Do you have any small little stories about anything unexpected that happened on set that you can tell?
Hiddleston: A lot of unexpected stuff, certainly in the dance. There were some times when I would be moonwalking across the asphalt and the soles of my shoes would get stuck, and it would be less of a moonwalk and more of a sandpaper shuffle.
You’ve both got a range of work that you’ve done on stage, TV, film. What’s the one piece of advice you give young actors who are trying to make it?
Ejiofor: There’s so many, but I do think that being on stage was really important for me as an actor, and starting out – in terms of building your craft, but also getting people to see you in that context as well, of really taking a story through from beginning to end, and allowing an audience to go on a journey with you.
Tom, Chiwetel’s directed two films, how come you’ve not had a go yet? And would you like to in the future?
Ejiofor (gently mocking): How come, eh?
Hiddleston: Chiwetel’s a magnificent director. I just haven’t got around to it yet. I’ve got a few things to learn from you. I would love to. I have great respect for directing as well, as I know you do, and it’s something that I don’t take lightly because you’re responsible for everybody’s creativity, and everyone’s imagination. I’ve been busy. But there’s still time.
Ejiofor: That’s the answer. “I’ve been busy.”
The Life of Chuck is in cinemas from 20 August and on an extended run at BFI Southbank from 29 August.
Overall Rating: Mature (for strong language, strong sexual content, and strong graphic violence)
Summary of Part II: Things have gone well for Loki and Stjarnavetr these past five centuries, but it cannot remain so. When Loki unexpectedly betrays those closest to him, Stjarnavetr’s world falls apart. Painful secrets and dark pasts will come to light, love will be tried to the breaking point, and Stjarnavetr must come to terms with the fact that the man she loves is not the man she thought she knew. Through it all, both Loki and Stjarnavetr will come to realize just how far they will go for one another and the sacrifices they will make, no matter the cost.
Table of Contents
AO3
Stjarnavetr
It was early morning, still too early for the room to lighten with the new day. Instead, with the balcony doors thrown open, the room was lit with the soft, wan starlight, but it was enough that I could see my daughter sleeping next to me. I was lying on my side and Loki behind me, one arm wrapped tightly around my middle. His gentle breaths fanned across the back of my neck, fingers twitching every so often.
Svássaedra had woken us multiple times throughout the night, but now had been sleeping peacefully for the past couple of hours. While Loki had promptly fallen asleep behind me after her last feeding, I had not.
All I could do since was stare at her.
I listened attentively to her soft breaths, studied her little sleeping face; lightly traced her brows, her pink lips, and her tender, shell-like ears. I kissed her fingers and her toes and rubbed my nose on her tiny palm, marveling at how such new, sweet innocence could exist. She was so new and clean, yet unspoiled and so unknowing.
I spoke in hushed whispers to her, low enough to not wake Loki who was a rather deep sleeper. I told her of Vanaheim and the good I could remember of it, about the virtue and the honor of her grandmothers, regaling the artistic skill of her grandfather and the prestige of the other. Telling her all about her father and what a good man he was and how loved she was, even if he might not know how to show it yet.
The day before when I had been drifting in and out between her feedings, I had surreptitiously observed Loki. He was seated in front of the fire, holding our daughter and just studying her. His expression had been difficult to read, when occasionally he touched her tiny face or her fingers, cocking his head almost like he was confused at the bundle in his arms.
Eventually, Svássaedra awoke and started squirming next to me, then her eyes were open and she was crying again. I gathered her gently into my arms and sat up, grimacing for the dull ache that flared between my legs with the movement. I pulled my nightgown down and allowed her to latch onto me. Loki stirred next to me, mumbled something, then draped his arm over my lap, right below Svássaedra, and pressed his face into my side.
While she fed, all I could think about was how much I loved her. I had loved my mother and my father, my siblings and Konavefr and Dreyma and my nephews; all my friends here at court and the queen and Loki, of course, with all my heart. I would never have thought I could love another more than him, but how hopelessly untrue that was I knew now. It was an all-consuming, unspeakable thing roiling within me, simply to gaze at this little physical manifestation of our love.
Once Svássaedra slowed down, I carefully switched her to my other breast. Eir had instructed me to do that. Part of me felt inadequate because I felt I should have known more, despite the fact I had obviously never borne a child before. But there were many things Eir had told me to be conscious of, and to send her a message immediately if anything concerning were to occur. She was supposed to come this morning to examine the babe, anyway.
The movement—and Svássaedra’s gurgling when she was done—finally woke Loki, who slowly rolled onto his back, then sat up and planted a kiss on my bare shoulder.
“How is she?” he asked sleepily.
“Well, I think,” I replied in a whisper. “She’s been feeding as much as Eir said she would.”
Just then, there came a soft knocking on the door. Loki was out of the bed moments later to answer it. Eir crept in with a small smile on her face, followed by her assistant Erendi, who was holding what appeared to be a pile of clean cloths. While Eir came to check on Svássaedra, Erendi set down the pile and began gathering all of the leftover supplies from the day before from the table.
“How was the night?” Eir inquired, taking Svássaedra gently from me.
While I spoke with Eir in a hushed voice, I could sense Loki in my periphery, standing back, staring at us like he had no idea what to do or say. Eir finally took Svássaedra across the room once Erendi had the table cleaned off, and I glanced at Loki and held my hand out. He immediately came to me, took my hand, and sat on the bed next to me.
“Stjarnavetr, I brought some clean clothes and a towel for you to bathe. I’m sure you would like to this morning, and I need to look at—oh, my! Stjarnavetr, have you two decided on a name?”
Eir beamed when I answered and remarked what a lovely name it was. Erendi came to us and Loki froze when she held out a pile of the cloth to him. He took it awkwardly, then Erendi grinned.
“For the bath, Your Highness.”
He looked somewhat uncomfortable, but I sensed it was not necessarily from the thought of helping me bathe. I turned to slide of out bed and bit back a small groan with the movement. Honestly, the thought of bathing or even using the chamber pot worried me. I had gotten up the night before to use it and it had actually been quite painful, and it had taken everything I had not to wake Loki in the other room with my pained groaning.
Loki came around and helped me up and he took me into the bath chamber. He started a bath as I pulled my nightgown off, which stank of my dried sweat from the past couple of days. It was a relief to have it off. I eyed the pile of cloths Erendi had given him. There was a fresh nightgown, a couple of fluffy towels, and a small bar of wrapped soap placed on top.
“I know you like it boiling,” Loki remarked with a smirk, turning to face me while the tub filled. He had his hand stuck in the water, using his seidr to further heat it.
I stood there awkwardly, suddenly feeling conscious of myself. It seemed so silly, because I could not remember ever having felt like this in front of Loki, but I knew the reason now and it sent a small wave of shame through me. When the tub was full and the water hot, Loki helped me into the tub. I settled carefully into it, unable to mask my discomfort.
“Is it too hot, darling?”
“No,” I said, a little more sharply than I intended.
“Do you hurt?” Loki asked, pulling a stool up next to the tub to sit with me.
“Some,” I admitted softly. “I will be sore for a while, but Eir says despite your daughter taking so long to come out, all went well and I did not tear.”
“Tear?” Loki echoed, brows creasing. His expression prompted a laugh from me, which in turn caused a painful twinge between my legs. Once Loki had recovered from the thought of such a thing, he ran his fingers absently up and down my arm while I soaked. The hot water was delicious on my skin and I eventually leaned back and closed my eyes.
“You seemed perturbed earlier,” I commented.
“When?”
“When Erendi handed you the towels.”
When Loki did not reply, I opened my eyes. He appeared to be contemplating something.
“It was odd,” he finally admitted. “The way she addressed me, Stjarna. I can’t remember the last time somebody called me that.”
“Erendi was with Eir before,” I said. “She remembers you as the prince of Asgard.”
“Yes, well, I don’t know if I’m considered that anymore, which in itself is odd to think of,” Loki mused, slipping his hand deeper into the water and twining his fingers with mine, resting on my belly. “Considering my being a traitor and the beheading and all that, you know.”
I smiled, but it was an empty smile. Part of me had forgotten, what with being sequestered in these little chambers together with our new baby daughter, that there was an entire world outside that door that despised Loki—a cruel reminder that our fates were far from secure. I think Loki was thinking the same, because neither of us spoke again until I asked him to hand me the soap.
I was able to clean my front easily enough, but Loki assisted in washing my back. I dunked under the water and raked my fingers through my hair a few times, then Loki helped me stand. He grabbed a towel as the water rushed off of me, and again came that odd pang of embarrassment, which surprised me. I clasped my hands together in front of me, as if to uphold some pathetic charade of modesty, despite the fact that I was standing completely naked in front of him.
Loki, however, only wrapped the towel around me and helped me out of the tub. I quickly dried off, then tugged on the new nightgown, feeling much better than before. We exited the bath chamber and I carefully crawled back into bed, noticing that the cloths that had been laid on the bed to catch any bleeding were changed out with fresh ones. Eir was puttering around on the table across the room and Erendi was pacing with Svássaedra in her arms, cooing and singing Asgardian lullabies.
After examining me to make sure everything was healing well, Eir and Erendi left, leaving supplies for Svássaedra. Just minutes later, two Einherjar showed up carrying a large, intricately carved wooden cradle between them.
“A gift from His Majesty King Thor,” one of them grunted as they sat the cradle carefully by the side of the bed. I was so taken aback I hardly knew what to say and could only call out a small “thank you” as they departed.
We were left in peace the rest of the day and night. Most of the time was spent in bed, with Svássaedra in her new cradle next to us except for when she needed to feed. Late that night, Svássaedra was sleeping and Loki and I were in bed, him propped up on the pillows and I laying against him. He was relating to me his and Thor’s conversation in the dungeons, right after we had arrived back in Asgard. How Thor knew everything, courtesy of Mímir, the disembodied head that had been returned to the Allfather after relations broke down after the Aesir-Vanir war thousands of years ago. I knew who Mímir was, Loki had spoken to me of him before our deaths, though the details were a bit hazy.
Thor knew of Loki’s true parentage and his children by the giantess Angrboda. He knew of the deception of his father and what had been planned for Loki even before his birth, and the treachery of those gods he had once considered his friends here at court.
“He is sorry for it all,” Loki murmured, stroking my arm with his thumb, head resting against mine. “He almost began to weep, Stjarna.”
“Did you forgive him?” I asked softly, playing absentmindedly with the sparse hair on his chest.
“No, but not because I wouldn’t,” Loki admitted. “In truth, none of it bothered me. I just… I don’t care about anything that happened. Everything I’m told, it feels like it was done to somebody else. Then they say it was done to me.”
I understood what he meant. I had felt some of that, too, thinking about my previous life. I knew my memories were my own, but occasionally they felt foreign, like I had made them up. Yet, I did not want to say that I was happy for Loki, considering the unspeakable things that had been done to him near the end of his life, but the fact he seemed content enough with it all comforted me. There was no hatred in his voice, nor bitterness.
I lifted my head and kissed Loki. He returned the kiss, nuzzling his nose against mine, and combed his fingers through my hair. Being pressed against him like this, in his arms, almost made me forget the tenuousness of our situation lingering ominously outside that door. I did not want to bring it up, however, for fear that the truth might shatter this illusion of safety.
Loki deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue past my teeth, and pulling my body tighter against his. I laughed softly and tilted my head back.
“You know what Eir said,” I chided.
“I know,” he said. “I’m just kissing my wife, am I not allowed to do that?”
I shot him an amused, disbelieving look, but allowed him to resume his kissing down my neck, to my collarbones, then down even more to the tops of my breasts.
“Will they stay this big?” Loki asked, as I felt the brief wetness of his tongue on my warm skin. I could not help it, I laughed out loud, then glanced worriedly over at Svássaedra, who thankfully did not stir. Loki smirked up at me, fingers descending down the side of my body until he slipped them beneath my shift.
“Loki—”
He hushed me and lifted his head to capture my protest with another kiss, resting his hand on my bare hip. He did nothing else—just kissed me until my lips were swollen and my entire body tingling. I could feel his arousal pressing eagerly against me, but he made no move otherwise. I squirmed against him, trying to quash the burgeoning heat in my body.
It almost felt strange, since it had been so long since we had lay with one another, because despite the desire I could feel pooling inside me, the thought of the pain of actually laying with him right now made me nauseous. I did not say anything though, because his kissing me was pleasant enough, and eventually when he was satisfied with himself and I nearly breathless, he tugged me against him and I fell asleep to the meandering of his fingers over my skin.
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The next morning, after a light breakfast, Thor paid us a visit.
He crept over to the cradle after greeting us, clearly more interested in Svássaedra than anything. I had just laid her down after her own breakfast, so she was still awake. Thor stared at me, asking silently for permission, then carefully lifted her up to hold her in his large arms. He beamed down at her while Loki scrutinized him from across the room, though I could not discern his expression. I moved next to Thor, watching in silent delight as her little eyes roved aimlessly over his face.
“She is beautiful,” he remarked slowly, like he was in awe. “My niece.”
“Thank you for the cradle, Your Majesty—”
“Thor,” he quickly corrected, unable to tear his face away from Svássaedra. His grin widened when she cooed and squirmed in his arms. “Formalities are not needed here.”
I glanced at Loki, who was still observing us with an air of caution. I held my hand out for him, encouraging him to come close, and he did silently. When Svássaedra’s squirming became too much a few minutes later, Thor handed her back to me, then straightened.
“She’s strong,” Thor commented pridefully. “Perhaps one day she will become a shield maiden!”
“I think she must first learn to walk before we give her a sword,” Loki replied dryly.
“Loki,” I snapped.
Thor laughed. “She is beautiful, Stjarna, but I must admit she is not the only reason I interrupted your morning, which I apologize for, by the way. I’m afraid I also must borrow Loki.”
Fear immediately seized my insides and I instinctively clutched Svássaedra closer to me, earning an indignant gurgle from her. Thor saw the poorly subdued panic on my face and quickly waved his hand, assuaging me.
“Worry not, I’ll have your husband back to you shortly. Loki?”
Thor turned toward the door. Loki quickly kissed me, flashed me an uncertain grin—likely to reassure me even though he seemed almost as uncertain as me—then followed Thor out of the room.
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Loki
The apprehension sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach felt odd as we exited the room. Thor could see it clearly etched upon my face and offered me a brotherly smile. I didn’t know where we were going, so I just wandered along with him.
“I want to thank you,” I finally said, a bit stiffly. “For allowing me to be with her. I suppose as king you were advised against it.”
Thor was quiet for a long time.
“Indeed, but… I thought she was dying. Eir sent an urgent message. If you don’t still hate me brother, gods forbid something bad was to happen to her. To let her die without you by her side would have earned me your eternal and well-deserved hatred.”
Though his words might have been perceived as cold, I knew what he meant.
“She really is beautiful,” Thor said, lightening the mood a bit. “Your daughter.”
“Yes, she is. She looks like Stjarna, thank the gods.”
“Sif wants a son, as does the kingdom, but I would not mind a daughter. Boys are troublesome enough, aren’t they? Getting themselves into trouble, getting themselves killed…”
I stared at him, surprised at his sardonic expression.
“How does it feel, Loki?”
“What? Dying or having a baby?”
“Having a baby,” he laughed. “Though, I would like to discuss later how all that death stuff went.”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m still trying to process it, to be honest. I never gave much thought to… children.”
“I don’t think any of us suspected things would go as they did,” he sighed, and there was something else underneath it all. Maybe a tiredness.
“Thank you for the cradle, by the way,” I added, even though Stjarna had thanked him earlier.
“I wanted to give Svássaedra the one Sif and I had made in anticipation of our child, but Sif was firmly against it. She had a hand in the design, you know, so I had to have the royal carpenter build another in a hurry.”
“I suspect Sif isn’t too pleased with everything,” I said offhandedly, though in truth I honestly could not have cared less. I knew she probably would even see me dead again. “She doesn’t like me.”
“No. She never did, but she’ll come around. Being married has calmed her down a bit, I think.”
I raised my eyebrows, incredulous. “You think so?”
“Well, I like to think so. I like to think it’s changed both of us some, for the better. Sif does wish to fight again, but cannot now for the sake of the child. She will once the babe is born, though, I have no doubt. For now she sits in our bed and eats sweets all day. And apples. She has quite the penchant for apples.”
We were silent for a while after that, still just walking. Every now and then a courtier would pass us in the corridor and quickly bow, throwing inquisitive or even disapproving glances in my direction. Thor ignored them, though. Finally, after some time, he spoke again.
“Loki, I hope our children may play together, if you allow it.”
“I’ll have no say whether our children play together or not,” I responded sagaciously, but not cynically. It was the truth. At this point, I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t be imprisoned in the dungeons by the time Svássaedra got to the point where she could play.
“Oh, they will,” Thor dismissed. “They shall be good friends, I hope.”
We turned into a courtyard, dotted with trees and statues and open to the starry sky.
“Friends?”
“Yes, of course. They’re cousins, after all.”
“Thor… I’m sure you didn’t drag me away from Stjarna to discuss the baby.”
“No,” he admitted, squinting up into the sky. “I did not.”
I braced myself for the inevitable. He turned to me, looked directly at me.
“Loki, I want you to stay in Asgard, with Stjarna and your child.”
My lips parted in surprise. That had certainly been the last thing I’d expected him to say.
“I want our children to play together, to grow up together.”
“I’m not so sure your wife would be entirely comfortable with the idea of your child associating with mine.”
Thor shrugged. “She’s a stubborn woman, but she’ll get over it. You’re my brother, and Stjarna as good as my sister now. I mean it, Loki. I want you and Stjarnavetr to stay in the palace. Raise your children here.”
“What do you advisors say about that?”
He laughed, somewhat uncomfortably. “Some of my advisors would see you executed… again.”
A coldness spread through me, but then Thor shook his head.
“I wouldn’t allow it, though. You’ve paid your debt to the Norns already. I’d think you dying once would have to placate even the most stringent of them. I cannot help it if the queen of death saw fit to reverse what was done.”
“What of Frey?”
“Ah, that fucker. He’s going back to Vanaheim by week’s end, by my order.”
“And what does the Van king say?” I inquired carefully. “What of the treaty?”
The Vanir Njord, Frey, and his sister Freyja, had come to Asgard thousands of years ago after the Aesir-Vanir war in exchange for two Asgardians—one of whom was Mímir, who ended up returning anyway, though a little shorter than when he had gone. It was all part of the treaty after the war.
“Oh, Loki, you fucked the treaty when you killed Freyja.”
“Stjarna, then? She’s alive again, like me. What say her home realm?”
“Well, technically she did die, fulfilling their order for her execution,” he explained, appearing somewhat confused. “I am not sure what they did with her body. I did receive a report from the Van ambassador that they buried it in some unmarked grave, beyond the castle boundaries…”
At least Stjarna’s remains had received a more honorable death than mine. I didn’t pause to think how that might work physically, since we were here alive again. If her grave were to be uncovered, would her bones still be there?
“So they will not come after her?”
“Luckily for us, King Járnvándr cares not for such diplomatic nonsense.”
“Járnvándr?”
“King Valdrlund’s youngest son. He ascended to the throne after… your wife killed his father. Anyway, he does not care for the games his father tried to play. From what I’ve gathered from ambassador’s talk, I don’t think he particularly liked his father. Lucky for us, he’s not been any trouble.”
I nodded, remembering that Stjarna had mentioned him to me before in Helheim. Thor settled on a large stone bench under one of the trees. I sat next to him.
“Frey is why I would not advise leaving the realm, brother. I can protect you here. I cannot elsewhere within the Nine Realms and if he were to know you’d gone, I have no doubt he would go after you. Stjarna and your daughter will be safe here in Asgard, Loki, I can assure you.”
“And I?”
“You, as well.”
“Yes, but… what would my purpose be here? I am despised still, I know it. I doubt the people of Asgard would take too kindly to me carrying on here as if nothing had happened.”
“Mmm. Well, after I learned from Mímir the true nature of things, word may have gotten around.”
I furrowed my brows. “What do you mean?”
“There was a bit of a clean out, you could say. Of the court. I would not be surrounded by snakes weaving words of poison in my ear, Loki. There is still some distrust, I cannot deny, but it’s generally known now how wronged you were by Father. I’m sure word has spread even further, you know how things are.”
“I suppose.”
“What I mean to say is, you would not be set upon by an angry mob if you were to wander down into the city.”
I laughed quietly at that, and Thor grinned and clapped me on the shoulder.
__
Stjarnavetr
I was sitting with Svássaedra in front of the fire perhaps two hours after Thor and Loki left, talking softly to her about nothing in particular, trying to distract myself, when there came a knock at the door. I rose slowly out of the chair with a wince and went to answer it. Outside stood an Einheri.
“My Lady, His Majesty King Thor has requested you be moved to larger chambers.”
“Oh,” I said, glancing back into the room. “Er, there is the cradle.”
“I will have it brought along afterwards. Please follow me.”
I did so and followed the guard out of the room. At first I kept my eyes downcast as we moved through the palace, fixed on the hem of his long yellow cape, but we did not have far to go and the closer we came to the new accommodations, the more tightness I felt in my chest. I did not bother to tell the guard there had been no need to fetch me; I remembered the way still and could have come here entirely on my own. Once we made it to the door, the Einheri opened it for me and I stepped through, breath caught in my throat.
His chambers were just as I remembered. Nothing, it seems, had been touched. From the doorway I could discern a thick layer of dust on everything—the table, the books and the great bookcases set into the wall. The tapestries and fur rugs were caked with a fine layer of gray, as well, which when beaten out would reveal their bright colors and textures again. There was no wood in the fireplace, just a large char mark on the bare stone from thousands of fires past, many of which I had sat in front of.
I turned to the Einheri, lips parted in surprise.
“I…”
“His Majesty would not have Prince Loki’s chambers touched after his… demise. He would sit in here sometimes, you know. Be in here for hours and order none to bother him. A chambermaid has been in and out the past few hours. I don’t see her so she might have gone to get some more supplies, but His Majesty wished you moved before nighttime. I believe the rooms should be mostly in order before dinner.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, watching as he gave a quick bow, then turned and shut the door.
I slowly turned, eyes sweeping over the receiving chamber, holding my daughter close. Memory after memory came flooding back as I wandered around—Loki and I sitting at that table, eating and laughing; seated before the fire in those large, comfortable chairs, and sometimes lying on the thick fur rug on the floor in front of it.
In his bedchamber, his large bed, decked in luscious dark red, looked fresh. I assumed the chambermaid had been in here already cleaning, as I did not see dust anywhere. I stood there for a long time, still clutching a sleeping Svássaedra to my chest, and eventually my lips began to tremble and my eyes filled with tears. I started to weep like a fool standing there in the middle of the room.
I kissed Svássaedra’s head, who swiftly awoke with my quiet cries, but did not begin wailing herself. I turned around and went back into the receiving chamber. In that moment, I wished desperately Loki was here with me. Did he know?
Suddenly, the door opened and a wispy girl in servant’s garb entered with a small basket full of rags and other cleaning supplies.
“My Lady,” she greeted, curtsying to me, but appearing alarmed at my tears.
“Ignore me, please,” I said softly.
“Should I come back?” she wondered, eyes wide.
“No, no, please.”
I sat down at the table—my old spot—and nursed Svássaedra. The chambermaid busied herself, but out of the corner of my eye I could see her every so often stare curiously at me. Perhaps half an hour later the same Einheri who had led me here returned with another guard to drop off the cradle Thor had gifted us, along with some bundles of wood. They placed the cradle in the bedchamber, stocked the fireplaces, and left.
The chambermaid departed a couple of hours later. She had not finished, but it was close to dinner and she promised she would return tomorrow to finish the bookcases. I put Svássaedra down in her cradle and tentatively made my way to a large chest against the wall, near the wardrobe. I unlatched the lid and inside found piles of musty, though still neatly folded clothing—my clothing. I gingerly lifted out the first piece: a deep blue robe, embroidered with delicate designs of gold and silver thread. I gingerly put it on, swallowing the tears I could feel rising in my throat. I had no idea why donning the robe felt so emotional, but quickly collected myself so as not to wake the baby.
Not even ten minutes later Loki and Thor arrived. I came out of the bedchamber, fingers nervously gripping the front of my robe. Loki stared, taking in his old rooms. He looked at me, down at my robe, then at Thor, who smiled.
“I know your chambers aren’t completely ready, so I wanted to see if you and Stjarnavetr wanted to dine with Sif and I tonight.”
Loki glanced at me again. Even though outwardly I may have seemed perfectly stoic, I think he could sense beneath it all I was not quite as tranquil.
“I appreciate the offer, brother, but I think I would like to dine with my wife alone tonight.”
Thor, who likely was expecting that answer, and as always seemingly unperturbed, nodded. He clapped Loki on the shoulder.
“Good night to Loki, Stjarnavetr.”
And he was gone with a twirl of his long red cape.
Immediately I burst into loud sobs. Loki was across the room in a second and immediately enfolded me into his arms, placing a hand on the back of my head to stroke my hair. He said nothing, just let me cry against him while kissing the top of my head.
I nodded, but still could not speak for my weeping. Finally, I pulled back, wiping uselessly at the large wet spot from my tears on the front of his shirt. Loki gazed down at me, unsmiling, and I could see the concern in his eyes. I knew not why I wept. Though it had not been explicitly stated to me, obviously Thor meant for us to stay if he had put us back in Loki’s old chambers. The relief was overwhelming, the realization that I did not have to worry anymore.
Loki tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
“I didn’t know where he was taking me, Stjarna,” Loki said. “It seemed familiar, but… I didn’t know until he opened the door. I can’t believe he kept it like this.”
“The Einheri told me Thor used to sit in here by himself.”
Loki’s brows furrowed.
“He missed you, Loki,” I clarified, sniffling. “He kept them because he missed you. There was still a part of you here.”
Loki released me and walked around the room, brushing his fingers over the still dusty bookshelves, the table and the backs of the carved chairs. He opened the doors to the balcony, revealing the city twinkling below and the darkening landscape beyond, rolling hills and forests that he had I had explored in the preceding centuries.
“It hardly feels real,” he remarked quietly.
“What did you two talk about?” I asked, wiping at my face again with the sleeve of my robe.
“He wants us to stay,” he replied, turning toward me. “He recommends it, in fact.”
“Why?”
“All is well, Stjarna,” he assured, coming back to stand in front of me. “Frey will return to Vanaheim. Thor says Valdrlund’s son is not concerned with anything that’s gone on with our return. But… he believes…”
“Yes?”
He sighed. He did not wish to upset me. “He says Frey would come after us if we were to leave Asgard.”
I slowly looked down.
“I’d tend to agree with him,” Loki said softly, putting his fingers under my chin and lifting my head. “How do you feel, Stjarna? To stay in Asgard?”
I shook my head and clasped his hand in both of mine, bringing it to my chest. “I care not where I am, Loki, as long as we are together.”
He smiled and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to my forehead.
“What did I do to deserve a woman such as you, Stjarna?”
“You must thank your mother for that,” I laughed, and he pulled back.
“I will make sure to do that one day, when I see her again.”
“Well, hopefully that day is a long way away. I need you here with us for the foreseeable future.”
Loki kissed me again, then asked where Svássaedra was. He wanted to see her.
I led Loki by the hand into his bedchamber, where Svássaedra slept soundly despite my hysterics just minutes before. I watched with swelling pride as he doted on her sleeping form, before shortly servants arrived with dinner.
When the plates were laid out and the servants gone, Loki and I seated ourselves—him in his old spot and I in mine. Dinner was a quiet affair, somewhat due to not wanting to wake Svássaedra, who miraculously was still sleeping, but also because the silence seemed to both of us an almost comforting thing after everything.
After dinner, Loki replenished the fireplace and we sat in front of the fire, murmuring softly to one another until I grew too tired to keep my eyes open. Loki helped me to bed, then pulled Svássaedra’s cradle close to my side, knowing she would waken soon to feed.
But for now, all was quiet.
Loki undressed and crawled into bed once I was settled. He wrapped me in his arms beneath the blankets and pulled me tight against his body, burying his face in my hair.
“We’re okay, Stjarna,” he murmured, rubbing his nose against me. He reached up with one hand to stroke my hair, grazed his thumb across my cheek. I took his hand and curled my fingers with his, for the first time in a long time feeling as if I could actually believe it.
__
Despite only getting a few hours of sleep due to Svássaedra, I awoke feeling more hopeful than ever. I did not even notice Loki was not in bed with me, since the first thing I did was to roll over to check on Svássaedra. I got her up to feed, changed her with some clean linens that had been brought the day before by the chambermaid, then went to find Loki.
I found him standing on the balcony, hands resting on the parapet. It was still early. The dark blue sky, daubed with stars, was giving way to the warm light of the rising sun. Loki glanced at me when I came out. I walked up next to him and he pulled me close, careful not to bump Svássaedra, kissing the side of my head as I settled against him, moving her to one arm.
“While I do find you just as handsome in Midgardian clothes, I think we still need to get you some new ones,” I remarked, tugging playfully at the hem of his shirt. Loki chuckled and looked down, then smiled at our daughter, who cooed.
“Yes, they’re a bit worn, anyway.”
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“I was thinking about my mother.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I miss her. I wish she was here. And Father.”
I twined my fingers with his.
“You’ve still got family here, Stjarna. Have you thought about when you might want to see them?”
I observed the city, rising for the morning. I had thought of them just last night—Konavefr and Dreyma and the boys, my brother’s sons. They would be close to grown by now. Another brother who had disliked me in life, but who still I would love to see again.
“Soon.”
“Tell me when and we’ll go,” Loki said, kissing me again. “Svássaedra is so little still, but we’ll figure something out.”
We were quiet for a long moment.
“It still seems strange that we are here,” I remarked quietly.
“It will be an interesting story to tell Svássaedra, certainly,” Loki laughed. “And your family. And Thor, too, he’ll want more details.”
“After everything… it almost does not seem real. Is it really over, Loki?”
“Yes,” he murmured, turning my face to his and kissing my forehead. “It’s over.”
It was an easy thing to believe, already. All the pain and despair and death—preceded by centuries of unknowing happiness, all now to end like this. A thing I had always dreamt of, that I might eventually be more to Loki than a mistress. More to somebody than a nothing. He loved me. He would die for me, and I for him if it came to it. And our daughter now, who he would learn to show the love he had been so in want of in life. No grief, nor bitterness. Nothing left now but a desire to live happily and in peace.
I looked down at our daughter, at her big grey eyes, and then back up to Loki, who was gazing fondly at me with that little half-smile of his that I loved.
All I had ever wanted.
END OF PART II
There is an epilogue coming that takes place about a decade into the future. It’ll be a sweet send off to our long-suffering couple and we’ll also get to see where their little family is (as well as some smut, I know it’s been a while). I have the majority of the chapter done, so please stay tuned. :)
I've left Tumblr long ago but just saw your update notification. I'm looking forward to re read it with all the changes in the near future. I must just find my AO3 password 😁 @renlem
Based on a 2020 Stephen King novella and starring Tom Hiddleston, 'The Life of Chuck' follows a seemingly ordinary accountant as he gets a m
Tom Hiddleston's dance moves are something to behold in The Life of Chuck.
The British actor, 43, who has gone viral for his dancing in the past, gets his boogie on in his new dramedy, which recently world premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival.
"Is it seven [minutes], I think of actual dancing?" Hiddleston tells PEOPLE of the sequence, which occurs midway through director Mike Flanagan's adaptation of Stephen King's novella centered on Charles Krantz (Hiddleston), a seemingly ordinary accountant.
"Chuck Krantz is in town for a convention to speak to other accountants about accountancy things and he hears the beat of a drum. It's an infectious beat that infuses his whole body," Hiddleston says of the scene. "Suddenly, he finds himself moving his hips. And across the way is a young woman who seems to be enjoying it too."
"It's completely spontaneous and joyful," Hiddleston adds. "And I hope the audience finds it as spontaneous and joyful as we did."
Hiddleston's costar in the impressive sequence, Annalise Basso, tells PEOPLE that "Tom's lead was the easiest and the most fun to follow."
"I've been dancing for most of my life and Tom made me feel like Ginger Rogers," she jokes, before clarifying: "I'm not saying that I am!"
"The thing about the dance that's in the film, it's really about the interiors, multitudes we all contain. So none of us in any of our lives are only one thing," adds Hiddleston.
The Life of Chuck also stars Chiwetel Ejiofor and Karen Gillan, both of whom starred in Marvel projects alongside Hiddleston, who plays Loki in the character's standalone Disney+ show, as well as The Avengers movies.
"I hadn't realized [the connection] until it was pointed it out," says Hiddleston. "I mean, I sort of had, but it hadn't occurred to me because The Life of Chuck is its own universe in a way. It's its own constellation. And within that constellation, actually, not all the characters meet at the same time."
Hiddleston adds that the "beauty" of King's story and Flanagan's screenplay "is that actually the soul of every human being has such extraordinary depth and range — so don't judge a book by its cover. We are more than one thing and the dance arises out of something extremely spontaneous."
The Life of Chuck does not yet have a release date.
Tom Hiddleston, who is reprising the role of Jonathan Pine for the second series of The Night Manager, was seen posing for photos during what appeared to be a costume fitting on set in Barcelona, Spain. October 15, 2024.
@insanityclause You're welcome. But not only did I find it in my mess of files, but you said "remember that bts photo from season 1 with the white shirt and the parted hair" and I immediately knew which one you meant.
