I might not have intended to involve my father, but he showed up at the shoot.
He didn’t, at least, do anything. Other than quietly watch and admire. “No picking up my coworkers,” I told him when I met him, back in street clothes, leaving the door.
“The south Asian one might be worth it.”
“Prefers girls,” I told him.
He arched an eyebrow. “I can fix that.”
I knew he did not mean changing her orientation. I mock punched him. “Please, you’re the most embarrassing ever.”
“I doubt that.”
“You are. What do you want?” I wasn’t quite concealing my irritation with him. Affectionate irritation, but irritation all the same.
He was…well, incorrigible.
“To chat about your little expedition into Muspelheim.”
“I figured if you had anything useful, you’d already have told me.”
He shook his head. “If I set foot there, Surtur will take it as a signal to try something stupid.”
“So you haven’t been there in centuries.” Not a question. And not a situation I’d really expected. I had assumed…
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s energy over-use and it’s causing drains and…well…making deserts. But the energy’s not gone.”
“So…hrm.” He looked at me. “Do you really want to try and fix this?”
“If I don’t, Surtur will start Ragnarok, eventually with or without me.”
“And you still don’t think…”
I glanced around. “No, not yet. Maybe it feels that way, but…I think they can pick themselves up from this.”
His lips quirked. “I’m not sure.”
“Doing nothing can always be fixed later,” I pointed out.
“After how much suffering?”
I shook my head. “No. I want to do this.” I got the feeling he was, in fact, testing me just a little.
“Alright. And if you end up having to stay there?”
I swallowed. “I’m hoping to avoid that, but…” I tailed off. “I don’t…”
“Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do.” He looked at me. “Just as I might have to.”
And perhaps I understood then. But I’d given him the information.
He would make his own choices. I felt, though, that I’d won the chance to try.