6757/The Carmen de Moribus

The Carmen de Moribus
Date of Scene:	01 July 2021
Location:	Palace - Asgard
Synopsis:	Kelda's return to Asgard leads her as well as Loki to the Royal Archives after a particular Midgardian scroll.
Cast of Characters:	Loki, Kelda Stormrider

---

Loki has posed:
Asgard. The golden city. It's not lost in the clouds atop a mountain or deep within the oceans.. it remains as it always has. At the end of the Rainbow Bridge, the Bifrost. Home to Valhalla, the resting place of warriors brave.

It is a very real place, with the actors mentioned in stories written in antiquity still very much made of flesh and blood. One in particular, perhaps some might not be all that pleased that he yet lives. He does, however, and 'haunts' the corridors of Asgard this evening, dressed in his usual green and gold, made of leathers and fabric. Loki walks alone, the guards of the palace remaining respectfully distant. Pausing at one of the side balconies, he enters the small nook area where it overlooks the Queen's garden. Hands rise in order to lean, and he gazes out into the darkened area.

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
A brief stint on Midgard means returning to Asgard for various things: potentially an update to the Court, perhaps a missing item from her room better suited for the borrowed space within the Embassy -- just a visit to home, the Golden City, comfort in civilization surrounded by the beautiful wilds of the mountains and plains beyond.

Kelda Stormrider, she of the magic of the blizzards and chill, has returned for the moment. Her path traces through the palace and the corridors towards her personal rooms. Midgard means dressing down; here, being raised to the Court means perpetual care taken for the finest of robes. Snow-shadow-blue, this robe, gossamer across the decolletage and down the long sleeves; the riding-slit skirting drifts as she walks to reveal her knee-high boots in dove-grey, thin leggings beneath these.

The Mage isn't so lost in her mind to miss the collective presence of the guards and thus, the silhouette of a particularly well-known figure. Her steps audibly slow. "My liege," the pale Asgardian greets quietly, her hands coming to rest at her leather belt with palms pressed together.

Loki has posed:
It's not a common thing in Asgard, mages. The wandering Kelda is also a 'known' in the Court of Asgard; Loki rarely forgets a face, or ability. It is also uncommon for one to address him unless there is something either that is desired or, well.. at least he's not going to be arrested. Not tonight. (Not that he's done anything lately that would truly honk Odin off. Unless it's 'not helping Thor do his dumb thing.)

Straightening from his lean, Loki pulls his hands off the balustrade, and rubs them together, turning around towards the voice. His head cants as he considers the other before a ghost of a smile appears, "Ah.. good evening. Haven't heard you were about." So he does remember her? "Asgard does call its own home on occasion, does it not?"

Turning back around to face the garden, Loki continues, "Even when one doesn't wish to return."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Loki's smile is met with an equally quiet smile and an inclination of head. Kelda isn't known for grandiose displays in any unless absolutely necessary -- it includes decorum within and without the Court.

"It is true," the pale-blonde replies on a sigh. "The idea of home takes many forms...and it is hard to return to what one once knew. Time changes all." A mild sentiment with mild words. "I had not heard you were returned either. Business with the Court?" The Ice Mage doesn't approach any closer, sans invitation for the moment. Warm lighting favors her features as it would any Asgardian passing through the palace interior.

Loki has posed:
Loki chuffs a laugh, his head shaking, and his eyes shift down before they rise again. "Business with the Court? Always. At least they believe so, even if it has naught to do with them." Him. With Odin. His disagreements with the All Father, 'his father' is a thing of gossip.

Turning once more, Loki has his back to the balastrade, his hands rising to rest on either side. "Home is not as it was, sadly," and his tones take a rueful tenor. "Neither are the lands we walked on Midgard. There are still those who recall us as we were, though. There. Here, things are rather.. unforgiving."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"The Court can be unforgiving, it is true," the Mage allows, her smile deepening. She has no real love for it either, a thing known if anyone's paid half a glance's worth of attention over the millennia. "They tend to recall the worst rather than the best. Lady Breda still appreciates reminding me of the time wherein I spilled iced wine down the front of her dress, though I claim a slip on the flooring."

And maybe it was actually a slip, but Lady Breda had it coming for a good number of years.

"Long memories are a trial atop this," she adds, "So I do not blame anyone for reticence. Walk with me? I intended to reclaim a scroll from the Royal Archives, the better to have it with me upon Midgard."

Loki has posed:
Loki gives Kelda a long, considering look before his smile lightens slightly, and he inclines his head. "I recall that. There were more than a few who quietly applauded that," but of course none would come out and actually //say// that.

Pushing himself from the rail that serves as barrier between palace and courtyard gardens, Loki offers something of a humoured half-bow, and adds, "At your service. The guards are lazy, anyway. I shall see your way safly to the Archives." The last word almost rises as a question, brows lifting as he begins his slow path in escort. "Moving it to the study in the Embassy?"

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"I will be far safer for your guardianship, my liege, thank you." For Loki's humored half-bow, a curtsey entirely appropriate but for the eye contact; glacial-blues watch him through pale lashes. Her steps fall into pace with his own. As befits all members of the Court, her carriage is one composed and straight of spine, the better to appear to glide along the carpet-lain stone of the palace.

A glance over at Loki. "Yes, the better to study it there." One corner of her mouth quirks at her little play on words. "It once belonged on Midgard, you see, and should I deem it appropriate, I might return it to the appropriate personage. Granted, several thousand years have passed, but this would make its return hold all the more merit. It does make me wonder of what remains of us...of what we once were, as you spoke of before. With my...difficulty of memory as of late, I cannot remember. I feel as if I should visit Norway at some point."

Loki has posed:
"I dare say, though the guards are rather formidable." Loki's hands shift behind him as they stroll, his manner and mien relaxed and holding a touch of humor.

As they walk the corridor towards the archives, Loki looks curious, and he casts his attention to the side. "It once belonged on Midgard?" Brows rise and his path ceases, "What was it, and to whom did it belong?" Because, if it is in the possession of Asgard, doesn't it then belong with them?

Loki studies the Lady before him for a long moment before he inclines his head once more, "There are few that believe in us, though a good number of those 'few' seem to prefer my brother." Of course? "But, if you would like, we shall visit the old grounds. The Lady Amora and I had walked the earth there. Perhaps you'll regain some memory." She'd lost some?

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
"I should hope to regain some, yes. It is disconcerting to be missing a large number of years of one's life." Kelda outwardly doesn't seem extremely perturbed; one of the skills of the Court, the ability to mask well the emotions. "I did not know Lady Amora had returned to Court. I shall have to speak with her as I can, given my time currenly divided between Asgard and Midgard."

Ahead of them, after a right-hand turn, the Archives and their formidable double-doors carved with gilded designs themed in knowledge and literary stand. Two Einherjar stand with their weaponry and inverted half-moon horned helmets a-gleam. "The scroll speaks of prayers or incantations for the dead in verse. I believe the learned of Midgard call it the 'Carmen de Moribus' and attribute it to a scholar named Cato the Elder. It may better belong in the hands of the mystically learned. I will decide should it become important."

Why an Ice Mage, of all callings, would be dabbling in the art of the dead is something the pale Asgardian doesn't deign to share with current company at the moment.

Loki has posed:
Loki starts his pace again, listening casually, nodding and making a soft noise or two at the observations. It's when the item is mentioned, however, where he stops in his tracks once more and reaches out to stop Kelda as well. Green eyes study her before,

"Really." Statement. "I wish to see this." His tones turn a touch more.. well, decisive. He may step in to determine its fate. "It may be the key to something I've been searching for." Hmmmmm.

"Hela has been getting a little .. difficult lately."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Loki's gesture to halt their travels has Kelda pulling up short. Her mien of calmness breaks with the loft of her pale brows.

"Hela," she echoes quietly the name of the Goddess of Death. "Difficult?" This seems a rare display of mild sarcasm from the otherwise neutrally-inclined Mage. She just as quickly smoothes the moment away by continuing with her more pertinent question of, "What have you been searching for in an effort to aid against this difficulty then?" The Ice Mage remains paused with palms pressed yet before her leather belt, her eyes clear and curious upon Loki.

Loki has posed:
There's that moment of silence, though it might be easy to see that Loki's giving his answer a great deal of thought, even if it is only in the span of those few heartbeats. He rocks his head back slightly, a smile rising rising, and the humor actually finds its way to his eyes.

"Simply looking to fix my brother's mistakes. Once again." The long-suffering Loki and the brash Thor. (So the stories seem to be correct!)

"The oaf has meddled with something he really shouldn't have. I did tell him I had things under control.." His hands splay open before him as if presenting the truth on them.

"I've been looking for that scroll."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
One can see disbelief, amused and knowing, settle throughout Kelda's poise as lightly as drifting snow. Her own far-fainter smile is just a hint pursed, making her petal-pale lips a show of what might be stifled laughter in someone more effusive.

"Have you now, my liege? This particular scroll? And what has your brother dabbled in? It is true, he cannot help his wish to fix problems so soon after they have started, even if it is better wisdom to stand back and observe. Even when he was young..."

Memories exist of this time period, at least, watching the brothers Odinson get up to hijinks from the periphery of the Court and wondering at the 'why' of it all.

Loki has posed:
"He has run in where one should tread lightly and carefully. That is, the realm of death." How much to say at this moment? Loki exhales in a long, audible sigh. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.

"That's the thing," he begins slowly. "I don't really know all the particulars." His hand rises to point in the air, "Yet," is added quickly after. "But, it does have to do with death. And with death, there is, well.. Hela. The fact that Asgard isn't in all out war suggests to me that things aren't as bad as they could be, but when last I saw her, she wasn't in a sporting mood."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Those barely-pursed lips part in first minor intrigue and then understanding. "Ah," the Mage says softly. Her eyes slide to one side as she considers if she has any wisdom herself in this matter.

"Niffleheim is a place one must tread lightly indeed. Even its cold is one I would not suffer if I had choice...and Hela is rarely in a sporting mood. If I may be plain, were she in a sporting mood, I would think her wishing to use //me// for sport, if you will. No wonder there is concern."

Kelda then gestures for the pair of them to continue down the hallway and into the Archives proper. "If this scroll does contain answers to help your brother, I would be fain to keep it for myself," she adds. "Is there any way I might be of further aid?"

Loki has posed:
Loki doesn't expect aid when it comes to dealing with his brother. Not even from Sif, or any of the Warrior's Three. Thor is his own burden, and one that is easier to bear at some times than others. This time? Well, he has to figure that out.

"Hela is.." and there is silence before he simply presses his lips together and shakes his head quickly. Never mind.

His own sweeping gesture forward incorporates the pair, and he begins to walk again. "We'll see what the scroll says. And, I may wish your aid, once I know what it is I require. It all depends upon what I discover, both from Thor and his actions."

Holding the door to the Archives now, his hand sweeps before him, "After you."

Kelda Stormrider has posed:
Recognizing a half-demurral when she sees one, Kelda nods and falls into pace beside the Trickster God once more. "Of course, my liege. I shall offer aid as I can and as necessary. For the moment, the scroll and what aid it may be in turn."

Sweeping through the door to the Archives after a quiet "Thank you," the Mage leads the way through the maze of many tall shelves until she reaches the section holding the scroll. She plucks it, checks it carefully with the art of one used to handling delicate material, and then after rolling it up once more, it is offered to Loki. Whether or not the collection of death-related missives will be as useful as surmised?

Only time will tell.