Birthday present fic for a friend... It was supposed to be like, 2k words tops... I is sorry...
Also, I realize that there are a lot of issues glossed over. Well, I'll adress them in the second installment - my friend's next birthday present! :P
Loki: The Fall
By: BananaManiaBubblegum
Loki stepped out of the horseless carriage and breathed deeply. Well, not horseless, per se, as the thestrals whinnied and beat their legs against the ground in the very front of every carriage, but as no one seemed to notice them, Loki pretended to do so as well. Horseless carriages they were.
The smell of rain and age invaded his senses with just a hint of old flora. Hogwarts, once again. The magical place, in more ways than one, where parents dropped their kids off for 9 months of the year and hoped for the best. Wonder what classified as 'best' in Odin's books when it came to Loki, though. Or Thor, for that matter. The same could be asked about any of the parents who've sent their children back to Hogwarts this school year as well, however.
The towers of the castle loomed almost menacingly high above Loki's head, as if warning him of another bad school year to come. Not because of school work or evil teachers, no, though the latter did happen once; it was simply because trouble and mischief followed him like the plague. He had yet to shake off his bad luck and more recently, this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that something big would happen this year.
Something far, far more terrifying than before.
Blending into the crowd of students flooding through the doors to the Great Hall for the first time since June, Loki swiftly found his way to the Slytherin table. His fellow year mates started taking their seats around him in clumps of two or three. He was the only one sitting, technically, alone. Overhead, the ceiling of the Hall was dark, reflecting the late hour. Small projections of light approximating stars littered the stretch of sky-like charms and the hundreds of floating candles made the Hall light up eerily. This year their numbers were even less than the previous, Loki noted as he looked around the Hall.
He met the eyes of Sigyn from across the room and nodded at her as she smiled back. Her smile was so heartbreakingly sad he couldn't help but look away. There wasn't much chatter amongst the students, though they formed increasingly large groups. It was rather as if they were bunching together for the sheer assurance of strength in numbers.
Loki could feel the pricking along his spine – the pair of eyes that followed him from across the room. Those big blue puppy eyes may have worked when they were kids, Loki viciously thought as he wished there was food already so he could stab it with ferocity, but now they couldn't be more annoying. They spoke of brotherly love where there was none to be spoken of. It was aggravating and Loki could take not a second more of it. Unfortunately, he had to.
Does Gringotts' life insurance service cover 'strangled to death by adopted brother'?
The masses settled eventually and the first years trickled in the Great Hall following none other than the Deputy Headmistress Ginnundottir, a wrinkly old woman of regal poise and austere constitution. The Sorting Hat belted out its usual song of bad rhymes and, recently, dark warnings, and the Sorting began. Loki couldn't wait for it to finish. He was hungry and tired and all he wanted to do was get some food in his system and go to bed, forget this day ever happened and forget where he was sent off to at times such as these. Instead, he had to suffer the boredom of the Sorting, the burning looks Thor sent at his back, and the concerned glances he knew were coming from Sigyn from the Hufflepuff table.
Could this evening get any worse?
It could, as it turned out. Once the last kid skipped off to its assigned table – Ravenclaw, - Headmistress Audumla stood up and, with a grave tone, began her speech. Grave tones weren't Loki's favourites, not by a long shot, and especially not while he didn't have enough food in his stomach to sate him. He bit back an annoyed groan and forced himself to listen.
"Welcome, students old and new. A new year at Hogwarts is beginning and I have a few announcements before you tuck in." Her eyes swept over the hundreds of heads turned towards her in silence. "The Forbidden Forest is, as the name suggests, forbidden for all students to enter without a teacher to accompany them. The new and updated list of forbidden items can, as always, be found nailed in front of Mr. Karl, our caretaker's, office."
Another pause, and when she spoke this time, her voice held the weight of all 150 of her years. Her words carried over the Hall and reverberated throughout the stone walls not because of their sheer power, but because of how loud they sounded in the tense silence that followed her admittance:
"Laufey and his followers, the Frost Giants, are wreaking havoc not too far from Hogwarts. I fear they may be upon us any day now. Our school is, of course, more than fully equipped to handle a battle or a siege with its fortified walls and enchantments and we can guarantee the safety of every single one of you (here Loki nearly scoffed. What about the previous year? Or the year before that? What happened to guaranteeing everyone's safety then?), but I must urge you to be cautious. For your safety, an earlier curfew will be installed and straying from Hogwarts grounds is highly ill-advised. We must stand together against the foe; united we are strong."
The Headmistress finished her little speech and sat back in her chair. Food appeared on the plates in droves but the Great Hall was frozen in shock. The young ones, especially the muggleborn ones, began to realize exactly what they've been shoved into headfirst and once a first year Hufflepuff burst into tears, it was as if the dam broke and flooded the whole room. Outcries and full-on panic raged throughout the hall. Loki eyed the food surrounding him, suddenly not hungry at all.
No one had known the Dark Lord was this close. No one had known he was targeting Hogwarts. Everyone was white as a sheet and rapidly discussing the problem, and Loki found himself agreeing with most points. Why were they, a bunch of children, suddenly shoved in the middle of a battlefield? Why did the school welcome them for this school year when any sane person would have closed its doors to students and went into full battle mode? What was going on in the mind of Headmistress Audumla, for Merlin's sake!
Loki looked up and studied the aged witch calculatingly. It was possible she had lost her mind some time throughout the 150 years of her life. Did she really believe a castle, a bunch of teachers, and a whole herd of liabilities could stand against the highly trained army of the Dark Lord? What was she planning with this veneer? Sure, the castle has been under siege more time throughout history than one can count, but did she really want a reckoning with the dark powers?
Loki didn't like piecemeal information. He would have to find out.
That evening they were all herded out at once to their respective common rooms. Thor made a racket about wanting to speak with his brother, but Loki ignored his loud calling until the blonde's fellow Gryffindors shushed him and the Slytherin and Hufflepuff contingents rounded a corner out of sight. Loki then slowed his walking until he managed to break off from the rest of the Slytherin group with none the wiser: everyone was too distracted to even notice, after all.
He slipped into an alcove unheeded by all who weren't paying attention. He knew of only one who would be paying attention to him and the message he sent by breaking off from the group was aimed directly at her. And there you go, no other than Sigyn cautiously approached the very same alcove a few seconds later and slipped inside, away from prying eyes.
"This is madness!" He raged after flinging a privacy charm to settle around the perimeter. Sigyn watched him quietly without interrupting, waiting for his fuse to short out. "Has the old cow lost her mind? This isn't a Quidditch game, Laufey's army consists of highly trained professionals, for Merlin's sake! She's putting us up for slaughter! Us!" He whirled and shook Sigyn's arms to emphasize his point, "a bunch of children with many no more capable than a rock!"
Sigyn lifted a hand to place on Loki's, with which he was still clutching her upper arm, and looked at him calmly.
"I trust Headmistress Audumla, Loki," she said imploringly, "surely she has a solid reason to bring us all here." Her honest eyes looked at him calmly, telling him to calm down and think rationally.
He paused and it was all it took for the rage he had worked himself into derailed as suddenly as it had come and he deflated, anger giving way for fear and sadness. His throat felt tight and he gaped like a fish for a few moments before he regained his vocabulary and licked his chapped lips.
"I don't want you here," he admitted quietly. "It will be dangerous- fuck, none of us should be here!" He hissed and cursed and when Sigyn wrapped his arms around him, understanding in her gaze, he broke down. They slid to the ground and all of the tension and bottled up feelings from the summer till now poured out in droves, somewhere amongst the tears. A small part of him hissed in contempt that he shouldn't cry, not in front of Sigyn and not at all, but he pushed it so far back it may as well have been locked up with the monster inside.
The following morning was as stiff and tense as the previous evening. With a rigid set in their spines, students went on sending letters to their parents. Loki looked over the proceedings with a clenched jaw and haunted eyes as the pressure tightened its yoke around the necks of everyone, then turned around and stalked out of the Great Hall before anyone was awake enough to stop him.
The schedules were given out. Some of the students looked incredulous at the impetuosity of the staff. Even after the first class began, many stayed in the Great Hall in silent protest. The people who showed up to class could be counted on one hand. No one at all went to Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures for they were both outside the castle walls. Potions and Divination suffered a similar problem as the dungeons were dark and damp and put everyone's mood in a worse state and the Astronomy tower was far and uncomfortably high so no one went in the first place.
Headmistress Audumla calmly acknowledged the predicament and let the students do as they please, as long as they didn't break the security measures. It was her fault, after all, that the masses were so aggravated in the first place. Everything was in the name of the greater good though, for everything was playing out as it should.
Breakfast in the Great Hall for Loki meant having to face Thor, and while chatting with his blonde oaf of a not-brother was most assuredly Loki's favourite activity, he decided to skip the rest of breakfast and instead go snooping for answers. He had many questions, after all.
Therefore while students and teachers broke their fast, Loki made his way to the kitchens bellow in hopes of any initial leads. While paintings may or may not provide the answers he wanted, be it on account of madness at or post the time of painting, or because they didn't have access to the information Loki wanted, or simply because they weren't at all partial to Loki; the house elves were that much more likely to have the knowledge he needed, although extracting that knowledge was a different matter altogether.
Striding in the kitchens with the air of a man on a mission, Loki was immediately struck by the bustling activity in the kitchens. Where he never visited the kitchen during mealtimes before, this was a whole different level from what he expected. Elves in tea towels were running all over the place, holding big plates of servings. Meals bobbed through the air in orderly lines and occasionally the odd elf jumped above the crowd and sailed through the air via magic to deliver its serving more quickly. Soft pops echoed every few seconds as servers popped away to deliver food and clear out plates. It was a complicated but evidently well structured and working way of getting the job done.
None of the elves approached him at first simply because they were too busy, so he took a seat at one of the tables and watched them do their jobs for a while. Eventually, a house elf bumbled over and asked, in a slightly annoyed way, what master would like to have for breakfast?
Loki considered shooting his questions now, but the aggravated stance of the elf told him no more chitchat other than an answer to the asked question is welcome at the moment. A few minutes later, a steaming plate of breakfast was placed in front of Loki and he slowly picked at it until the hustle and bustle of the morning mealtime wound down. Then, and only then, did a swarm of house elves surround him, chattering nervously.
"Is sir not happy with our food?" A concern of theirs was voiced.
"No, no," Loki was quick to assure them. Hogwarts food wasn't that bad, he wouldn't depress those sweet creatures when it wasn't warranted. "I actually have a few questions I want to ask you all, if you don't mind?"
Loki always put his utmost respect in his words when speaking with staff because although his upbringing told him he was better than them in all aspects of life, common sense told him it was never a good idea to mess with the people who made his food and looked over his accommodations. He would know, he used to often pretend he was part of the staff back at home and prank Odin's guests of high standing depending on their treatment of him. He most often than not winded up grounded.
By now he was actually good friends with many of the serving elves, including the Head Elf, a surprisingly imposing female no taller than two feet who was incredibly mothering to everyone who came by her kitchens. He called her the Motherboard, a purely muggle term he had heard once when Thor's muggle friends were over, particularly that Anthony guy. He knew not the meaning of it but it contained the word 'mother', so he guessed the word to serve the same purpose he was using it for, in any case.
The elves tittered and told him that sirs can ask away, but they weren't laughing anymore once he started his interrogation. With fearful eyes, they practically shoved him out of the kitchens saying they knew nothing about master's plans and sir should go to class now, thank you very much. Obviously, they knew something, but they weren't particularly keen on sharing it. In fact, they looked scared. He made a note to press the issue later and made his way back to the Great Hall.
Even though the elves kept quiet, their silence in and of itself told Loki more than he expected. For starters it told him that, indeed, Headmistress Audumla did have some sort of plan.
But what was it?
The booming voice that greeted him upon entering the dining room immediately reminded Loki why he'd gone out in the first place. Too late for retreat now, he thought with a scowl.
Thor came bumbling from all the way on the other side of the Hall, practically pinballing between the two centerpiece tables. People liked Thor so not many complained, but he nonetheless spent a lot of time making pit stops every few feet to exchange a solemn greeting and quick apology with this student and that. Loki wondered if they were all idiots or if they were trying to stall Thor for Loki to escape back to safety.
The raven-haired youth watched the proceedings patiently and with amusement. Nobody in the school liked Loki enough to stall Thor on purpose, so he decided to savor the situation instead. Thor would have gone after Loki had he tried to escape again, anyway. At least this way the confrontation would be on his terms and he presently sent one of his terms a pleading glance.
She got the memo, thankfully, and stood up, excusing herself to her friends and making her way towards Loki and Thor. The wix1 swept out of the Great Hall and since they were a group, furthermore one composed of sixth and seventh years, no teacher or student authority went after them.
The 4th floor old Charms room seemed like a good choice for Loki to start up their brand of talking. It was far from the Great Hall, which gave him time to sort out his thoughts in the silence that permeated the air as they walked. It was also very much abandoned, but that was more of a default of Loki's to think about that since in all actuality most of the classrooms across the castle were deserted that day anyway. Nearly all students were inhabiting the Great Hall in a pseudo-protest, after all.
The classroom was locked, but a simple Alohamora did the job exceptionally and they were swiftly inside the dusty old place. Loki wrinkled his nose at the sheer thickness of the layer of dust settled over the outdated and mostly broken furniture and magicked most of it away before taking a seat on a relatively whole chair that looked, for the most part, comfortable enough.
Sigyn did the same, claiming another old chair for herself, but Thor remained upright. Well, Loki was already seated, and though manners prohibited the act of sitting while your conversation partner was standing, said conversation partner was Thor, and that should have told you everything.
The green-eyed wizard arched a brow when the Thunderer (nicknamed that because of his loud, thunder-like voice) not only remained standing, but began pacing the length of the room. Sigyn and he exchanged a bemused glance but in the end decided to let Thor himself speak first.
"Brother, I am-"
"Not my brother?" Loki guessed with an unamused look, cutting Thor off. The blonde in question looked aggravated by the interruption and Sigyn looked between the two brothers as if watching a tennis match. So far, however, she saw no reason to cut into the conversation.
"I am worried about you," Thor persevered, sounding more exasperated than worried. "I know it can't have been easy for you to find out, but-"
"Know?" Loki scoffed with an incredulous expression. "You know nothing, Thor Odinson." He rose from his seat and advanced on Thor with narrowed eyes. "I am gladdened that I am not family of yours. I am elevated to know the reason Odin treated me as a second-rate stranger all my life. I. Am. Exultant about the fact that I share no connection to you, you oaf. Jubilant. Cock-a-bloody-hoop." He poked a finger in Thor's chest with every word to make his point. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating a bit. Bending the truth just a tad. Fine, he was outright bloody lying, but he'd be damned if he spilled his guts to Thor, of all people. The man couldn't keep a secret to save his life. Loki still remembered back when they were still young children, Thor would run and tell on Loki every single damn time Loki tried to play a prank and Thor found out. Maybe he was bitter, so what?
Maybe he was hurt and deceived and angry and insulted and hell, he had to remove himself from this situation before he did something unbecoming.
Thor was watching him with those heartbroken puppy eyes and for a second Loki almost felt ashamed of saying those things to his face, but what did a man have to do otherwise to get some time alone from the Odinsons, for Merlin's sake?
Then he felt a delicate hand on his forearm and the simple contact cut through his emotional haze and he managed to rein himself in before he started bloody bawling his heart out. He didn't want that. Sucking in a breath when he realized he'd been holding it a moment too long, his green eyes cut sharply to Sigyn, who blinked calmly at him and accosted him out of the room quietly. Thor was left behind in the classroom, watching the two exit with shock hammering through his system, words swallowed back because of Loki's outburst.
"Feeling better?" Sigyn asked some time later, as the two sat in the Room of Requirement on opposite sides of the same wide windowsill. Loki was looking out at the scenery and Sigyn was observing him, looking for signs of calming down. The man heaved a sigh and looked back at his best friend.
"A bit," he murmured, leaning his cheek on his drawn up knee. "It's just so…" and he trailed off, his grasp of the English language failing him tremendously as he searched for the right word.
"Overwhelming?" The blonde woman suggested helpfully. Loki shrugged a shoulder half-heartedly, conceding with the use of that word to describe his feelings.
"I wasn't even meant to find out," he blurted all of a sudden. He had written Sigyn during the summer, and she knew of the revelation, but he never felt it prudent to pour his feelings on paper that could be found and read by anyone. Now he had the chance and he grasped it firmly before he could back down.
"I always tried to shine brighter than Thor," he murmured and snorted self-deprecatingly, "Odin never gave me the time of day. I was never even as good as the oaf, in the end."
Sigyn, bless her heart, didn't try to interrupt. She just sat, knees drawn to her chest, and listened calmly. Big round orbs of crystal bore into him, making him bear his soul to her, piece by piece. He looked out towards the Hogwarts grounds once again. He had a perfect view of the Forbidden Forest that stretched on and on, and far in the distance there were rolling hills that rounded out the view. It was beautiful, especially from such a height.
"And then I found out I was adopted, and suddenly it made so much sense," his breathy tone at the end was begging her to understand, "Why wouldn't Thor, Odin's own flesh and flood, be better in his eyes than I?"
"Loki," her no-nonsense tone cut through his pity party, "we both know you're telling yourself that to make yourself see some logic in it all. But the truth is there is no deep and convoluted reason behind Odin's behavior." And her face just dared him to try and argue. "He simply had no idea what to do with you, Loki."
It was harsh and it stung but it was true. It wasn't Thor's fault that he was the one more inclined to follow in the path Odin was most comfortable with praising and Loki wasn't. It wasn't Thor's fault, period. But Loki was still, irrationally so, angry with Thor, period. He just had to calm down and sort out where his feelings lie with the bumbling blonde, and Thor trying to impose his false understanding on Loki just grated more and more on his nerves and slowed down the whole process.
In all honesty, being told he was adopted came pretty much as a godsend to Loki. All the tension of having to live up to his father's expectations suddenly evaporated under the weight of the truth he had no true father whose expectations to live up to. And just when he was starting to think he'd have to do no less than bring the emerging Dark Lord's head on a platter to Odin before he got accepted, too.
Loki blew out a defeated puff of air and the two continued enjoying the scenery in quiet.
At last, he was near. The village of Hogsmeade would burn and soon, so would Hogwarts herself. He would rule the very pinnacle of Wix society and so, the realm itself.
Laufey looked over the sharp rows of his army, the sheer size of which was breathtaking, then turned his gaze over to the looming towers in the distance. The horse he was astride whinnied and clopped its legs on the ground in anticipation. He let the army break order and start setting up camp. All the blue-skinned soldiers, literal offspring of the Frost Giants of old, quickly and efficiently went to work.
They would rest, and they would plan. Soon, they would unleash their attack upon both the village and the school. His mouth split in a dark grin. No longer would they be the secondary citizen in the equation.
"So it begins…"
Professor Hoenir was the one who sought Loki and Sigyn out a few hours later. He wouldn't have succeeded, of course, had they stayed in the Room of Requirement, but they were already on their way back and so happened across the handsome man's long-legged stride as he ploughed across the castle in search for them. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher grinned at them, inclined his head in a warning, and turned back towards the Great Hall, where most students were still assembled.
Professor Hoenir never did talk much. Most of his lessons consisted of instructions and explanations written on the board and him giving the practical example. Whenever he spoke, his words came out in a slow ruptured drawl, as if he had a hard time getting them out. To counter this problem, however, the Professor was highly expressive. One could very easily deduce what he was trying to say if only they observed his facial expressions and gestures.
Despite not speaking much, he was adored by most of the school, not to mention the fact that he was the first teacher in a long time to start his second year in a row in the position of DADA professor.
People thought it was a miracle.
Loki thought it was, if not outright bullshit, then very, very suspicious.
The Great Hall had decidedly less students than during breakfast a few hours ago. Most had gone back to their dorms, some – to the library, and left were the ones who had friends and family in the other houses and the ones who were actively aware they were putting up a protest.
In any case, students 5th year and above were not allowed in groups smaller than 3 people at a time while students 4th year and bellow were not allowed to be without a teacher around, period. When Thor had come back alone, the only leeway Loki and Sigyn had gotten was that Loki was the best student in Charms while Sigyn was the best in Potions and so they were, in a way, more trusted than the average student. However, everything had its limit, apparently.
Loki plopped down on his seat on the Slytherin table, Sigyn taking up the space beside him. Loki was eager to talk with her about the Headmistress' plans, or at least, his theories about it, but he was more than aware this wasn't the right place to do it. Earlier in the RoR they'd talked about it, of course, but they didn't reach a consensus or even a lead in the right direction. Pouring over memories had gotten them nowhere, in the end, so they had turned to observations.
There weren't many teachers in the Great Hall in the first place. Some had, in some faint hope, gone to their classrooms to wait for the especially studious students to come to class. Some Ravenclaws did, in fact, go, and Loki, no matter how much he loved books, thought them batshit crazy.
The tension in the room had no more lifted than the previous evening and the few teachers who were stuck with babysitter duty wore tight smiles and swept across the Hall like owls, stopping often to comfort the more emotionally weaker students and stop the occasional scuffle between students whose adrenaline had run higher than required for taking the facts that they were on lockdown, essentially bait, and a fucking Dark Lord was coming to slaughter them all. Scratch that; on second thought, they seemed perfectly within their mental compartments, contrary to a growing list of adults starting with Odin, the 'father' figure, through Headmistress Audumla, and ending with Odin, the Head of the Auror Department figure.
Lunch was another quiet affair, though all houses were gathered strictly by their respective house Heads. People looked on the verge of breaking out in hysterics; others were subdued, with red rimming their eyes from previous breakdowns. Siblings and close friends were huddled together and the Great Hall was an abstract painting of four colours spread haphazardly across the grey stone sheet.
Food was, once again, in droves. Loki found himself staring at a plate twice as large as the standard issue Hogwarts plates filled with all sorts of food. It made everyone else on the table shoot him curious looks but his own bafflement at the sudden predicament warded off people well enough. He glanced about, seeing all the other students piling food on their empty plates, then back at his own.
Were the house elves screwing with him because of the debacle in the kitchens?
He cautiously brought up his fork and poked at a green pea. It didn't explode in his face, so he chose to take that as a good sign. He was starving after all that happened between breakfast and lunch, so he really wanted to eat. Scooping a forkful of salad in his mouth, he wondered why the elves were doing that. Was he really so scrawny as to solicit such a reply by the Motherboard? Or were the elves trying to tell him something?
His eyes widened when, after another forkful, the corner of a letter poked out from underneath. It was clean, obviously kept so by some bizarre elf magic, and was obviously addressed to him. He caught Sigyn's attention by poking her in the ribs with his elbow quickly and tapping the paper with his fork. She quickly caught on. Under the guise of reaching over Loki to get something off the table, she provided cover for Loki to take the letter from under the pile of food and shove it in his pocket for later reading.
It proved useless since only a few minutes later the best distraction a mischief-maker could ever want came as unbidden, and as alike, as a summer storm: a flock of owls descended upon the Great Hall, looking confused and carrying the same letters they had been sent out with, all unopened. As they went back to their respective owners and an outcry rose across the room, Loki took the chance to break the seal on his own letter to see the elegant script of Frigga filling the page. He quickly folded it back up and put it back in his pocket. Indeed, this was for later reading.
In the mean time, however, it looked like he wouldn't go without appropriate entertainment. A literal riot was breaking out in the Great Hall. The teachers were all on their feet, lunches forgotten as they tried to calm the crowd down. Outcries of "Why?", "What is the meaning of this?", and "I want to see my mummy!" rose over the din occasionally but otherwise were swallowed up by the collective noise.
Then Audumla stood up and grave silence reined. Loki's ears rang from the suddenness of it all. Great, another speech from her. He fought not to roll his eyes.
"Students," she began, "This is for your own safety. I am afraid I cannot divulge the information to you, but I implore you to trust me, and trust that there is a plan, and trust that you will get out of this alive and well.
Laufey has been waging a war for far too long. – Oh great, the long version, Loki thought, - It is time we end it decisively. We are all very aware that a school is no place for a battleground, but our hand has been forced. For the good of the Wizarding world, for the good of all your futures, this is necessary."
When she paused to let her words sink in, however, Loki knew he'd had enough. Inconspicuously, he charmed a scoop of mashed potatoes to pelt the Headmistress' face. He could clearly see some students getting ready to shout in outrage and the deliberate undermining of the old cow's authority was just the trigger needed to fuel the riot.
And riot the Great Hall did. It was glorious.
Unfortunately, that didn't mean their stance on it all was taken into account, Thor thought thunderously as he stalked back to his common room after the mass protest covered in bits of food and arm still tingling by a rogue stinging charm the teachers had been flinging at the students as crowd control. The whole school was entering a civil war of its own, never mind the army of highly trained Frost Giants marching their way here as they speak.
Some students were still in the Great Hall, but most have retreated back to their quarters, fuming. Loki and Sigyn were gone, too. Once it had become clear that the adults in the equation weren't keen on keeping the students out of harm either way, everyone had decided to screw the strict regulations and watch out for themselves. The younger students were still travelling in big packs, but the older, more capable students were mostly on their own, with some nice enough to stick with the younglings to protect them should push come to shove.
So Thor was on his own, naturally, too incensed to keep a good watch over the other students had he joined a group. He turned left down this corridor, right down that one, then left again and right again as his eyes recognized the same hallmarks. Left, right, left, right. He passed several times by the same windows with the same view from the same bloody angle towards the Black Lake. Only then did his anger evaporate to give way to confusion. What in the Norns was going on here?
It took a few more experimental turns to recognize the charm for what it was – he'd seen Loki, who'd presumably read it in the Odinsons' library, cast it for the laughs numerous times before. They key to breaking out, he remembered Loki explain to him once, was to find the caster, who was always hidden somewhere within that infinite loop. When integrating it in a, say, house defense mechanism, the spell had corresponding runes that could be inscribed on a stone or piece of wood and incorporated in the surroundings.
Hopefully, it was Loki himself who had cast the spell, for he did not remember what the runic signs for it looked like. Sure enough, there was a tapestry further down the corridor that didn't look natural. He'd missed it the first few times, but he definitely did not remember that tapestry being there during any of the five going on six years he'd traversed this course.
"Loki," he called with a sigh, "what is it you want?"
"Have you calmed yourself, Thor?" Loki asked as he dropped the charm to show Sigyn and himself. "I have news from Frigga."
"Mother? But the owls came back during-"
"Yes, I know the owls came back, Thor," Loki interrupted with an impatient wave of his hand. "I never said she sent an owl."
"House Elf mail is very innovative, is it not," Sigyn commented airily and Thor found he couldn't hold back his face-splitting grin upon the realization.
"What does she say?"
"I have not read it yet," Loki admitted and it felt like the grin would never fade from Thor's face as the ramifications of that struck him. He was acknowledging that Thor had as much right to hearing what Frigga, the woman Loki looked at as more than a mother, had to say, and in no way the abridged version, either. He was acknowledging the fact that, before Frigga, they were equally her sons. He was acknowledging, in his own roundabout way, that they were brothers of equal standing.
"Oh shut up," Loki muttered with a roll of his eyes and herded the other two in an empty classroom some way down the corridor. Once the door was firmly shut behind them and all sorts of privacy spells were firmly settled about the room, Loki opened the letter.
Dear son,
My letters to you returned unopened, so I had to ask our house elves to deliver this to you. I hope it finds you in good health.
I fear a great threat is about to befall Hogwarts, and I suspect foul play is in work. This morning the Daily Prophet came out with the headline that the Frost Giants are wrecking havoc across the lands near Hogwarts. No such information was known before now, so Odin investigated and found someone has been paying the editor under the table to keep this knowledge secret until the school year starts.
Someone wants you all in Hogwarts when the Frost Giants arrive, but to what ends, I cannot tell. We are all working towards getting through to the castle and getting all students out safely, but the Hogwarts defense protocol is keeping us out officially. The public is demanding results, but nothing so far.
Be cautious, my sons. I fear for your safety.
Love, Frigga
Loki finished reading the letter aloud and hissed a breath, crumpling the paper. Thor and Sigyn both looked shaken.
"Well shit," Loki muttered and neither of the two blondes tried to correct him, a sign as to exactly how shocked they were.
"It's the Headmistress," Sigyn said, her voice shaky with the realization. "She's known for a long while now, and she wants us here for some reason, so she paid off the editor of the Daily Prophet to keep Laufey's moves secret until it's too late… but why?"
"In any case, we need to get everyone out of this deathtrap," Thor inserted, shaking his head.
"The house elves," Loki mused, "They can apparate in and out of Hogwarts, and the Motherboard will definitely help us…" his head snapped up towards the other two, and he urgently started relaying his plan.
By dinnertime all four houses were abuzz with the knowledge of the way out. The protest, of course continued, but this time it was used as a front. As older students rioted, the younger ones were carted off to gather their belongings and go to the kitchens, where they would be taken via side-along apparition to the place Loki had coordinated with Frigga through a couple more letters.
There weren't nearly as many elves as there were students, and they could only do a couple single apparitions over great distances or one side-along. Therefore, they had to prioritize.
Getting the First years was the most urgent, since they knew nothing of self-defense, and in a battle, they would be absolute liabilities. Then came the second years, and so on. The more of the younger were out of the crossfire, the better.
Unfortunately, Loki counted, only one age group per night could be apparated out, and then the elves had to be left to recharge during the day before the rescue mission could continue the following night. That meant it would take a week for all students to be out.
Loki knew there was no way they could be as lucky.
The following day the protests continued. Some of the students were right up there getting angry at the school administration, the rest were all over the school, covering up the fact that there was a whole year of students missing. The teachers, too worried about putting out the opposition, didn't notice.
That definitely counted as a win.
The Great Hall continued to be the hotspot for students at all times of the day, though the biggest convergence, as always, was during mealtimes. When people sat in straight lines down four tables, it instantly became obvious that there were gaping empty spots all over. To cover that up, the students were told to behave as though they were at a party. A doomsday party, perhaps, but a party nonetheless. So they did: they mingled and spread out, eating their food on the go as they weaved through the crowd.
From the Head Table, it must've looked pretty confusing.
That evening the second years were excited to be going home, at last. They had been packing during the day and were ready to go to the kitchens directly after dinner. The crowd was still big enough to quasi-effectively cover up the shortage of students. Loki, however, could sense the burning gaze on his back of the one person he never would be able to trick: Headmistress Audumla.
Looking up from his food, Loki put on his calm mask and looked up to meet the gaze of the woman. His burning challenge was met with tinkling amusement. She knew there were less students now than before but obviously, she didn't feel the need to interfere.
What was it she wanted with them? Obviously, the disappearance of the First years didn't mean much to her, so she either needed the general majority of the students there, in which case tough luck come due time; or she needed the specific presence of only a handful people out of these students, in which case, again, tough bloody luck.
Finding himself growing annoyed with the lack of knowledge, Loki stalked out of the Grand Hall at the earliest convenience. Second year students began trickling after him in short intervals, with escorts of various other years to cover the tracks.
Because of that petulant storming off, however, Loki was not there to be the only one to notice the white message mouse scuttle towards the Headmistress and relay to her a small rolled up piece of paper, nor the way she paled when she read it and the pinched expression she wore when she also exited the Great Hall at earliest convenience.
The groups of Second year students reconvened in the kitchens where bags of luggage were already piled. Each of the elves who were to do the apparating looked ready as can be. They were each to carry one child and its corresponding luggage, most times including pets, to the appointed spot. Like the previous evening, Loki stood guard in front of the fruit bowl painting, looking like he casually chose that spot to rest for a couple of minutes… or a dozen.
Still, it all went according to plan so far. Loki was by no means disillusioned this would stay that way for long, but the more people out of this hellhole, the better, anyway.
Audumla sat in her office, staring into the flames of her merrily blazing fire. The portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses watched her from the walls where their paintings were hung, whispering amongst themselves. The plan, they chattered, had been long unraveling. It was coming down to the last days of the whole ordeal. Soon.
Soon.
Headmistress Audumla, however, had the current stage of the plan weighing heavily on her mind. She shuddered to think what the message she'd gotten meant. Things were moving faster than anticipated, but she would manage. She had to. He had to.
She looked at the damning piece of paper for the nth time. Hogsmeade attacked, it said, evacuation immediate. Casualties – many. He's coming.
The time was coming for that one conversation that would do or damn the whole plan. Looking up at the portrait of Sir Slytherin, she asked him to call one particular student from his house to her office the following morning, and then she let out a bone-rattling sigh. She felt the restraints of time tightening around her, not only the plan's time constrains, but all 150 years of rises and falls resting on her shoulders.
She would die soon, but she would die victorious in this war. She had to.
Loki's eyebrows rose high on his forehead when he heard the summons. He was aware his plan had been found out, but it hadn't looked like the Headmistress was about to interfere despite knowing. What had changed between last night and now?
Walking up to the Headmistress' office from all the way down in the dungeons with the grace of a person who's done this his whole life (which he hasn't, he was usually more subtle than that), Loki recounted every single thing he'd done in the past few days to warrant a summons. The sheer size of the list he came up with had him wincing.
The stone halls echoed his footsteps back to him eerily, the emptiness of the castle in the early morning deeply unsettling. If those halls were filled with corpses, he found himself wondering darkly, would that emptiness feel as cold then?
The stone gargoyle greeted him all of a sudden and Loki realized he'd been too caught up musing. Had he not come to, he would've rammed right into its ugly stone face. Muttering the password Sir Slytherin had told him, Loki watched as the statue jumped aside, and then ascended the stairs up to the Headmistress' office. He waited a few seconds at the top landing to collect his bearings; he had a feeling he would need those in a wit fight with the 150-year-old cow.
"Come in," he was told moments before he knocked.
Audumla was sitting in the chair beside her desk, her old wrinkled face set gravely and her fingers tangled in front of her. Loki pursed his lips and closed the door behind him, moving to sit in one of the chairs without being invited. He had no time for false formalities.
"Headmistress," he acknowledged with a curt nod of his head. The woman inclined her head in greeting and cleared her throat.
"Mr. Odinson…"Loki flinched at the name and she paused, searching for the best way to put this. In the end, she took out a spherical object from her desk and showed it to Loki. It was a big glowing orb with thick smoke swirling inside of it, faint outlines of words and pictures forming every few seconds. "Do you know what this is?"
It took a few seconds to recognize it, but he did. "A Prophecy."
Audumla nodded and set it back on her desk. "Many years ago," she began, "this prophecy was made by Heimdall himself." Loki had learned about Heimdall. He was supposedly the best Seer of their time. Currently, according to some sources, he had secluded himself with his all-seeing blindness in a cottage near the sea where he still thrived. Since Loki himself cared little of Divination, he didn't know much, but he remembered their Divination professor talking reverently about Heimdall's last Prophecy once in class.
"It is a prophecy about the death of the Dark Lord. It says that Laufey's own son will be the one to bring Hel upon him." Loki sat up straight. A prophecy about the demise of Laufey? Why was she telling him this? Where was she going with that?
"At that time, Laufey's son had just been born. When the Frost Giant heard of the prophecy, he tried to kill the baby before it was too late, but Odin and his Auror teammates, for at the time he was not yet a Department Head, broke in his abode and stole the child."
Audumla waved her hand and thick mist appeared in the air which began twisting and forming a moving picture. There was a cradle with a baby, a man standing above it and raising a knife poised to attack, then a couple other mist figures darting in and grabbing the child from the cot. The man with the knife gesticulated wildly to represent anger, and tried to hurl the instrument at the baby before the two defenders could react and shield it properly. The knife stopped mid-air after the child let out a wail and turned on the thrower, glowing with magic. It embedded itself in the chest of the man, the glow of the magic spreading across the misty figure's body.
"Laufey tried to kill the baby nonetheless, but then something –" She paused to let the irony of her following words come to light, "-magical happened. The baby demonstrated incredible magical talent and not only stopped the attack, but sent it back and imbued it with magic so potent and deadly that the Frost Giant had to hide and recover from it for well over a decade." The commentary continued as Loki stared entranced at the moving misty figures. His thoughts were flying out of his head because of the sheer weight of what he was hearing, what he was being divulged by Audumla herself.
The manic silhouette of Laufey disappeared from the picture as the one who had grabbed the baby, presumably Odin, walked across thin air to signify moving to a different setting. Two more mist puppets appeared, one a woman and one a toddler in her arms. The two adults appeared to be talking, with exaggerated gestures of worry relaying the gist of their unheard conversation. Loki began connecting what he was being told, adding 2 and 2 and getting the inevitable, horrifying number of 4.
"No…"
Audumla, however, ploughed on: "The child had to be hid away from everyone for his own safety. Therefore Odin brought the baby home, took it under his wing, and thus hid it in plain sight by changing its appearance with a strong Glamour."
Loki swore he heard the sound of his whole shakily rebuilt after being told of the adoption world come crashing down as the Headmistress weaved her fingers in front of her and looked him dead in the eyes, uttering with utter gravity the last of her speech: "That baby is you, Loki."
"No, no… you're lying! You're lying, you old cow!" He was on his feet and backing up rapidly before his brain even registered it, his voice rising in volume to drown out the din of crashing buildings in his mind, his words ending in a shriek and cracking embarrassingly.
Before Audumla could even find her words to try and soothe the boy, he was already flying down the stairs and away from the Headmistress' office.
Frost Giant.
Frost Fucking Giant.
He was the bloody spawn of the magical world's boogeyman. Not just any boogeyman, mind you, no; he was the spawn of THE boogeyman, the final boss, the Devil in blue and black, Laufey himself.
He was the thing parents warned their children against, the creature under the bed, he was the child of those ugly, terrible, heartless, deserving to die monsters.
He was an ugly, terrible, heartless, deserving to die monster.
Oh, and he was destined to kill the big boss, too, apparently. So he was, technically, the monster's monster.
He ran, practically flew through the corridors, past people just leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading to the upper levels, and up towards the Room of Requirement. He needed solitariness, desperately, and only the RoR could provide it for him. He needed to scream and rage and cry and let it all out in isolation, alone. He was everybody else's nightmare. Horror. He was the embodiment of all evil in the Magical world. A freak.
The Room he required provided a cozy little dorm room with a soft bed and even softer pillows, cluttered with breakable things all around and perfect for letting off steam. There were even a few human-shaped puppets off to the side, soft but sturdy. One wall was covered by a bookshelf filled with information about Frost Giants. It really was equipped for everything Loki might need.
He began systematically tearing it down.
Sigyn didn't see Loki at breakfast that morning, nor for a long while after that. She was getting worried.
According to his fellow housemates, he had been called to the Headmistress' office that morning, and nobody has seen him since. When it was near lunch and there was still no sign of the dark-haired troublemaker, Sigyn endeavored to the kitchens to ask the Elves if Loki has been around.
The hustle and bustle of lunch preparation time was the first thing that washed over Sigyn when she entered the elves' workplace. The scent of mouth-watering foods wafted throughout the place and the entire workforce was busy cooking up even more.
Had she not been worried by Loki's disappearance, she would have taken a seat on a table out of the way and been content with waiting it out. Unfortunately, she didn't have such luxuries. Spotting the Head Elf giving directions left and right from her spot in the middle of the crowd, Sigyn made her way towards her.
"Yngvi," she called, using the Motherboard's given name. The female elf was named after some old deity of the Elves' that was actually supposed to be a man's name, but apparently, it worked well enough for females as well. "Have you seen Loki? He hasn't showed up since this morning. At all, actually."
The Motherboard frowned in contemplation, seizing her director-like arm-waving with which she conducted the rest of the orchestra around. The elves continued their work nonetheless.
"Bony sir is gone?"
"Gone?" An elf overheard and squeaked. The word washed across the room like a Mexican wave as elves stopped their work and all eyes turned to Sigyn. Nervous chatter broke out amongst the crowd.
"Yes, gone," Sigyn affirmed. "Have you seen him?" She felt her heart hammer in her chest when one by one the elves started shaking their heads no. If even the house elves haven't seen him, he was either in some of the little places house elves don't often go in, or outside. Sigyn didn't like the second possibility. At all. He could be in the Forbidden forest, at the Quidditch pitch, or, Merlin forbid, at the bottom of the Black Lake, even.
The Motherboard looked about as worried about Loki as Sigyn herself, and she appeared ready to stop lunch preparations in order to start a search party for the scrawny boy. Until, of course, one small-looking elf even by elven standards was pushed out of the crowd of elves and stumbled forwards until it regained its balance. The kitchens quieted down instantly, curious eyes swiveling to watch the childling.
Not unkindly, the Motherboard inquired what the child had to say. The poor thing blushed to the roots of his hair and in the stillness of the kitchens stuttered out that sir is in the Come and Go room. Sigyn found herself raising her brows incredulously. The RoR? Loki and she only went there when…
Oh.
Shouting a thank you over her shoulder, Sigyn bolted from the kitchens and up towards the seventh floor where the Room of Requirement was standing inconspicuously. Out of breath after the dead sprint she executed across seven floors upwards, she huffed and puffed for a few minutes in front of the tapestry that marked the Room of Requirement before she regained her balance enough that she could think.
Pacing three times in front of the empty wall, she furiously thought I need solace. It was the sentence they had agreed on for whenever they used the Room of Requirement, so that if one were to lock themselves inside, the other could get to them. It had become second nature to them by now, so she had no doubt that he had thought that in his mental state, whatever the Norns that was right now, he would've used it without sparing a brain cell.
Sure enough, the door to the Room appeared after the third passing by. Slipping inside, Sigyn had to almost immediately dive out of the way of an incoming lamp. It broke a few inches away from her face and she scowled at the only person inside, her worry suddenly giving way to annoyance.
Loki looked at her like a deer caught in the line of a spell, frozen in place in the process of grabbing another thing to break. His mouth was a little agape with surprise and he fruitlessly worked his jaw a couple times, trying to form an apology but he couldn't find his voice. His anger had been chased away by the shock, but in its place settled anguish. His eyes watered by their own accord and tears streaked down his face.
"Stay away from me," he croaked softly through the lump in his throat, crumpling on the bed. Sigyn, however, heeded not his words and approached, her eyes shining with empathy. She didn't need explanations now, nor did she expect any as she saw the state Loki was. But her oldest friend was hurting and she wanted it to stop. She reached out a hand to place on his shoulder but he shook it off at the first sign of physical contact.
"Don't touch me," he screeched, whirling around and slapping away her hand, "I'm a monster!"
Sigyn was momentarily taken aback but her decision was taken as soon as she saw him curl into a ball with his back to her. She reached again and this time wrapped her arms around him despite his protests. Plopping behind him as the big spoon, she tightened her hold on him until he stopped struggling and just sobbed.
"You're not a monster," she said, brushing back some of his silky locks of hair that were haphazardly falling in his face at the moment, "you're Loki."
"Loki the monster," he hiccoughed bitterly.
"What makes you say that," Sigyn asked, running her hand through his hair absently. It seemed to soothe both her and Loki.
"I'm a Frost Giant."
Sigyn's hand stilled momentarily in shock but she hurried to rectify that as she felt Loki tense up, ready to bolt off the bed and out of her hold. She took a slight digression from the conversation, working out the knots in his hair and murmuring soothing nothings to him like she often watched Frigga do to wounded animals whenever she visited Loki's house. Meanwhile, she mulled over the new information.
Being a magical creature in modern wizard society meant being no more than a second-class citizen. The more sentient your kind, the more prejudice you faced. Frost Giants were the very people that helped wizard kind build up their first approximation of society so many centuries ago, so when wizards developed prejudice against magical creatures, the Giants bore the brunt of it. They were excommunicated from society, forced to hide, and hunted. Of course, that early history was wiped from the books, all but the very old tomes on magical history held even a glimpse at what really took place. It just so happened that one of those books was a family relic of Sigyn's.
That trend continued for many centuries until recently the Frost Giants were rallied up by Laufey, who'd had enough. Sigyn would have sort-of sympathized with his cause had he not used such terrifying methods in his crusade to achieving, if not equality, then dominion over the magical community. Of course, dominion turned out to be his only option.
The magical newspapers all painted him as an evil Dark Lord who simply wanted to slaughter people left and right, and that in turn deepened the slowly closing rift between creatures and wizards. Had Sigyn not found that history book in her family library, she probably would have held a bone-deep hatred for the Frost Giants as well. Everyone else did, after all.
"Who told you that?" she wondered aloud as she tried to put herself in Loki's place. Being told you're the very creature everyone despises. Ouch.
"… the old cow," came the answer after a while and Sigyn couldn't hold in a huff of laughter. Only Loki would call the Headmistress that even in a serious situation such as this. "She said I'm…" Loki sucked in a sharp breath and Sigyn raked her nails over his scalp gently to soothe him, "-the son of Laufey."
Sigyn did her best to control her outward reaction this time. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, not seizing her ministrations upon Loki's head. Then she opened her eyes and stared at the back of his head, her mind swimming with questions- well, a multitude of fuzzy unarticulated blobs ending in neon question marks, rather, as she tried to piece together the information.
So he was Laufey's son. Did that make him any less of a Loki, any less of the friend she had since she could remember?
The answer was plainly, no.
Sigyn propped her head on her free hand whose elbow rested on the soft pillow beside Loki's head and she peered at his face. It was screwed in fear and misery, waiting for the inevitable outcry of disgust as the information got properly digested.
"Say, Loki," she said, keeping her tone light and inquiring. He opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times in confusion before he turned his head just so and met her calm gaze. He flinched and looked away but she persevered. "If I were to tell you I am, say, a Dark Elf or a Thurse, would you think less of me?"
"No," the answer was sharp and automatic and Loki himself had to pause and run it again to himself. No indeed, he would not think of her as any lesser person if she was a Dark Elf or a Thurse, or even a Werewolf, but still. Wix society wasn't in a war with any of them, was it?
"But- Frost Giant," Loki stressed, trying to get his point across. Sigyn's calmness taking in all of this was throwing him for a loop. Couldn't she see Loki's dilemma and not destroy his emotional arguments with solid logic?
Who ever mixed emotions with logic, anyway?
Then again, Loki himself was supposed to be highly logical, yet here he was, curled up on a comforter like a child who had a bad dream, in a room filled with broken items after a temper tantrum, all after an old untrustworthy cow fed him a story that, when he thought back on it, lacked the proper proof to be honestly convincing.
And that's why he needed Sigyn.
"Werewolf," Sigyn threw back, imitating his tone mockingly.
"Frost Giant," Loki tried again, this time trying to convince himself. What for, though?
"Centaur," she countered and this time they dissolved in giggles, Loki's occasionally interrupted by a hiccough or two. Then Sigyn wrapped her arms around Loki, burrowing her face in between his shoulder blades.
"Don't ever say you're a monster again," she whispered into his back, loud enough for Loki to hear it.
"…I won't," he said after a minute, his own whisper bouncing off the stone walls of the Room.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Odin passed through the mansion's protective wards with no problems and went straight to the study. Frigga was already waiting for him there, seated in one of the plush chairs near the fireplace. She was staring into the flames – a year-round open floo network connection. In her hands she was clutching a tumbler of alcohol, but she didn't appear to have been drinking much. The portraits hung on the walls were watching her warily, ready to bolt from their paintings swiftly should the need arise.
Odin decided to bypass his desk and instead went to sit in the other comfortable armchair. He eyed Frigga, her pursed lips and narrowed eyes spoke volumes of her anger.
"Innocent children," she hissed, staring at the flames. "Audumla is endangering innocent students for the sake of this war."
Odin leaned back in his chair. The sacrificial dilemma wasn't new to him, but he never would have evened out the scales of a war with children. Though, to be fair, Loki was a child as of yet. He was destined to battle with Laufey, but it appeared Audumla had taken it upon herself to say when and where.
But what would the woman gain by doing so? Unfortunately, he couldn't officially connect to Hogwarts to ask her that himself. His Aurors were working on the problem tirelessly, however. The Minister of Magic was getting antsy. Odin had no doubt Audumla was running the risk of losing many of her powerful titles besides Headmistress of Hogwarts.
Problems and unanswered questions were popping all over the place and time was getting slim. How were the movements of an entire army of blue fucking giants kept secret from an entire department dedicated to security? Who in the Prophet had the cunning to snoop out that information when dozens of professional Aurors couldn't?
And most of all, who in their right mind had the gall to deliver the low blow of having the Auror Department Head learn the news at the same time as the rest of Wix society?
"Is there any headway?" Frigga asked, bringing Odin out of his thoughts. Her head wasn't turned but he knew she was watching him with the corner of her sharp gaze. She always had that incredibly keen sense that just—Odin could not describe it, but the witch was most definitely the wisest person he knew.
"Not yet," he answered, voice gruff.
Frigga pursed her lips but nodded. "Time is running low," she commented airy, her avalanche of unsaid accusations weighing down on Odin's shoulders with spectacular efficiency.
"Grundroth!" Hailstrum shouted from across the camp. The blue figure that was called looked up from where he was sharpening his weapon to see the caller approach.
"Aye, Hailstrum?" He rumbled, not pausing in running the bench stone over the metal edge of his spear. Next to him there was a sword and a pair of knives waiting their turn. Hailstrum frowned at the gathered weapons. Most Frost Giants in the army had only one, two weapons at the most. In battle they mainly used their Ice abilities to form sharp, if brittle and short-lived weapons of their own.
"Come, join us for dinner," Hailstrum offered, turning his eyes away from the pile of metal by Grundroth's side. "Laufey has ordered us a feast, for the defeat over Hogsmeade yesterday."
The blue giant grunted and put down the bench stone. He stood up in all his big blue glory wrapped in leather from the waist down and followed Hailstrum with light calculated steps. His red eyes, unlike Hailstrum's or any other Frost Giant's, glinted with knowledge and surreptitiously scanned the surroundings as he walked.
Hailstrum, with his wider and stronger build coupled with more armor covering bits and pieces across his blue body, led the way through the crowd all the way to the marvelous impromptu dining hall sculpted out of ice that towered in the center of their current settling. Through the thick but see-though walls one could already see Frost Giants having their own style of fun and food.
There were icicles whooshing left and right, aimed at one giant or another. With their thick skin those were no more than minor annoyances between friends, as they were meant to be, but Grundroth hesitated in crossing the threshold. Neither the food inside called out to him particularly, nor the kind of fun they were having. If any of those icicles reached him, his cover would be blown.
But if he didn't join in, his cover would become a very, very suspicious character.
"Hailstrum," he said, his voice a rumbling apology all round, "there is unfinished work I must complete."
"Tomorrow we get ready, but tonight we feast, my friend," the larger Frost Giant objected, placing a hand on Grundroth's back to steer him inside. It was too late for retreat, apparently.
Raze and Sentry along with a multitude of other fine and distinguished warriors were already inside, laying claim on pieces of the magical wild boars they had hunted in the Dark Forest earlier that day. Just his luck that he appeared to have taken the place of one of the more known warriors amongst this kind.
At least he managed to do so early enough in the game that his bumbling through trying to imitate the real Grundroth's personality went relatively unnoticed.
As you already probably guessed it, he wasn't Grundroth. The Frost Giant by that name currently lay six feet under more than a thousand kilometers away from their current resting place. He was, in fact, one Brian Maverick, a shapeshifting variety of Vampire kind that worked undercover for the Daily Prophet.
He's been playing double agent for a long time now, carefully collecting and sending information to his affiliates via raven. He didn't know if what he was sending was being published or not, but his bank account was most assuredly steadily growing, and that's all Brian cared about in the first place.
He wasn't partial to wizards, true, but he wasn't angry enough to honestly march on Hogwarts. It was all very vaguely like the shadow societies2 have recently discovered communism, actually. He was simply one of the middle class people who were fine either way.
Grundroth walked in the dining hall cautiously. He was waved over by Raze and Sentry to sit at their table so Hailstrum and he went that way. Thankfully, none of the flying icicles went their way, but Grundroth wondered for how long that good luck would hold up. Someone might even throw ice at him deliberately. What then?
"You seem very focused, my friend," Hailstrum clapped him on the back and snapped him out of his thoughts. Grundroth fumbled for a few seconds for a good excuse until some ice slapped against Hailstrum's thick-skinned back and broke to pieces. Hailstrum turned and good-naturedly rumbled that whoever did that would be very sorry, and joined the fray.
Grundroth sat down at the table wearily and did his best to start a conversation with the rest as he ate. Soon, though, there was the rhythmic banging against the tables that made the whole dining hall quiet down and many join in. Grundroth had been around for a long time with the army, but it was the first time he heard that. Many instruments joined in and Grundroth was surprised, for it was the first time he saw any of the Frost Giants show any other talent other than smashing skulls. The melody was sad and hopeful all at the same time. It made Brian think back to his own origins, so long ago that it was probably already leveled to the ground and it filled him with nostalgia.
Marching through the mountains
Where our weathered kin is kept
And the children keep on counting
On the freedom they're bereft…
It was an old war song, Grundroth realized as he watched the solemn faces singing around him. It spoke about rescuing and protecting their own, of the lands they used to inhabit, of brothers in arms turned traitors. It ended with a hopeful verse about the future, that they'll rise again no matter what pushed them down.
Hailstrum sat down next to Grundroth and Brian fought to keep his eyes dry, else his cover be blown. Every other Frost Giant in the hall had hard eyes and tight mien.
That night the third-years were evacuated.
It was a chilly night and it was raining cats and dogs – awful for travel. Thankfully, they weren't travelling the normal muggle ways anyway.
Dozens of thirteen year old children started popping in thanks to the house elves at the designated hour. The room they were to go to was the old unused ballroom of the Odinson mansion where Frigga greeted every child with refreshments and ways to contact their families. Some, who had nowhere to go to, either at the moment or in general, she directed to the little used guest rooms of the East wing of the mansion.
She anxiously asked the students for news of her boys and their friends. Most didn't know Loki that well, but they always could tell her about Thor. All in all, she learned, they were fine. In three more days she would have Loki back to her side. In four, Thor too would be safe and sound at home.
Odin wasn't in the ballroom with Frigga. He was sulking in his office. Because the house elves couldn't side-along apparate many people over that great a distance, they had to prioritize between getting the children out or the Aurors in – and Frigga had put her foot down firmly.
That meant the Aurors still had to research diligently in order to find a way into Hogwarts, the unplottable impenetrable castle that just so happened to be under threat of a siege. Joy.
The fifth day in Hogwarts came with calm. Not the resigned calm or the relieved calm that came over people when the issue was solved, no. It came in the form of the calm before the storm.
Teachers going down to breakfast that day were greeted with the sight of a completely empty Great Hall, not a student in sight. It continued to be so until the middle of breakfast, when suddenly loud chanting and the stomps of hundreds of feet came bursting down the corridors leading to the Great Hall. It successfully freaked out some of the more skittish professors when a crowd of protesting students with banners and headbands burst into the dining room.
The deputy headmaster, Professor Olvaldi, who was the highest authority present, stood up from the head table with a thunderous expression.
"What is the meaning of this?" He shouted, which managed to significantly reduce the noise of the chanting, but not make it disappear altogether. The banners, obviously enchanted, periodically flashed the slogans "We Want To Go Home!" and "Let Us Go!".
Sif, a 7th year from Gryffindor who was in the front lines of the protesters, was the one who answered, her voice loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
"We are hostages!" The students cheered her on, "We demand we be released!" More cheering.
"You are students!" Deputy Headmaster Olvaldi argued, disbelief and incredulity in his voice as he watched the procession. "And this is a respected school. Stop this nonsense right this instant!"
The rest of the teachers were on their feet as well, wands drawn and tense should crowd control need to be implemented. It was practically a showdown.
That day classes were resumed as normal.
Nobody showed up to class.
House points plummeted by the hundreds.
Detentions were handed out left and right.
No one showed up to those, either.
The teachers were getting desperate. They all piled into Headmistress Audumla's office that evening. It was a bit of a tight fit, for the office simply wasn't designed for that many people inside at the same time. No one really cared.
"This is getting ridiculous," the Deputy Headmaster scowled. Other teachers nodded along, voicing their own concerns. "Is this really the only way?"
Audumla paused, looking for all the world as if she was digesting the question and searching for an answer. Then she shook her head gravely. "I am afraid so, Olvaldi. This must be done. For the end of this war and the good of all."
"Besides," professor Nott, who was an ardent believer in the Headmistress' correctness, "it's not like the army can get in, what with all the ancient enchantments on the castle, and we have house elves to bring us food and water, so a siege is out of the question. The Frost Giants coming here will be an exercise in futility."
Audumla eyed professor Hoenir momentarily as Nott spoke, but when he turned to look at her, she averted her eyes and nodded again. "Exactly," she praised and Nott beamed back.
"But the students…" Professor Ran uttered quietly, desperately.
"It is necessary." Audumla said finally. Her voice made it sound as if she cared. Well, she did, but this task truly was greater. Besides, if it all went according to plan, not many wizards would die, anyway.
That day the Frost Giants got ready for battle. They would march on Hogwarts the following day. Well, mostly Laufey and his generals prepared. The rest pretty much lazed about, sharpening their tools and training their aim and skull-crushing skills.
As Grundroth was no general of Laufey's, despite his reputation for being a skilled warrior, Brian had pretty much the day off. He would sharpen his tools some, spend the day doing practically nothing but planning through doing some boring manual jobs, and then he would sneak off that night. He didn't want to be part of the final battle; he had a bad feeling about that. Plus, though he had no qualms with killing, the deaths of children put a bad taste in his mouth.
All throughout the military campaign, when they encountered a battle, he would sneak back to the battlefield under the guise of the night and his true form, and he would feast. But he never feasted on children. Ever. It was the only rule he had in his immoral immortal life. Never hurt a child.
Laufey and his general finished battle plans around midday and since then preparations have been running along quickly; furiously, almost. Until nightfall, Grundroth found himself being called all over the camp to help with this or that, and he couldn't catch a break despite the fact that the jobs were mind-numbingly dull and easy.
Then day turned to night, and when the camp fell silent, he was out of his tent faster than one could say 'Frost Giant'. The Dark Forest was just a little ways away and under its shadow he would shift back into his vampire form and simply go away.
He walked through the camp, trying to keep as quiet as possible, though he was more than aware that Frost Giants slept like logs. Then he heard the sound he never wanted to hear again.
"Grundroth?" Hailstrum questioned as he exited his own tent. "Out for a walk?"
"I—yeah," Brian said, hoping he'd be off the hook with just that.
"Good, so am I. Where are you headed?"
"The, uh, Dark Forest. You don't need to come," Brian tried.
"No, no, let's go," Hailstrum said, nodding. "I need to speak with you anyway."
"Great," Brian muttered under his breath, looking funny that way with his big blue disguise. He wasn't particularly interested in what Hailstrum had to say, but he had hoped he wouldn't have to kill anyone on his escape, least of all the only friend he had made in the army.
The two walked far into the forest, until the camp was out of sight, but not far enough to be in the territory of most of the deadly creatures the forest contained. A few kilometers from where they stood, they knew, Hogwarts was standing proudly. The trees around them twisted into shadows menacingly and Brian could've sworn there was a bird glaring at him on one of the trees. The night was abuzz with the noise of the forest critters scuttling to and fro places.
"I know you're not Grundroth," Hailstrum said suddenly and in the next second Brian was ready to jump on the giant and rip his head off despite his reservations, but paused when he saw that Hailstrum wasn't in any sort of battle position. He relaxed his battle stance but remained tense, cautiously eyeing the giant for any sort of sudden movements or reaching for his weapons.
"I've actually known for a while," Hailstrum said, and that threw Brian for a loop.
"How long," he demanded, letting his disguise melt away, leaving his tall pale stick of a figure facing the Frost Giant. "Who else knows?"
"I'm the only one who figured it out," Hailstrum said casually, "I watched you."
Brian suddenly had the feeling it wasn't simple observation that the giant meant.
"How long," he demanded again, his hostility giving way to confusion. Hailstrum chuckled. It was a deep rumble coming straight from the lungs and it was the first time Brian ever heard Hailstrum chuckle. It was unnerving, maybe.
"After the first battle of this campaign, you sneaked back onto the battlefield thinking no one saw you, and drank the blood of the victims," the soldier said. The first battle had been months ago.
"And you… didn't tell anyone?" Brian asked, his brain working furiously as he tried to piece together the information.
"Frost Giants are loyal," Hailstrum said and Brian felt that there was a 'but' in his tone, "to their friends, most of all." He nodded his head in Brian's direction slowly, imploringly. "I hope we see each other again," he called as he turned to leave.
"Wait," the vampire called out, "what if they ask you about where I've gone?"
Hailstrum paused, turning his head to look at Brian over his shoulder. "Grundroth…" he paused as he mulled it over, "was taken by a vampire when we went for a walk in the forest." His lips twitched upwards at the jest before he turned forward again and continued on his trek back. He didn't stop when Brian shouted a thank you his way and disappeared, or when he reached the camp; only when he was back in his tent did he lie down and stare up aimlessly. Glassy drops froze over his cheeks.
He wasn't crying. Frost Giants don't cry.
Loki spent the day in the Room of Requirement. He wasn't angry anymore, thanks to Sigyn, nor sad. He simply felt… empty. He didn't want to face anyone that day, not with knowing what he was and who he wasn't. Sigyn understood that, so she left him alone that day. He made her swear that she wouldn't tell Thor where he was and she reluctantly she agreed.
He didn't need more melodrama that day. He had a mission and he did not know when the time would be up. Yes, Loki had to think; to plan, to deliberate, and to mull over so, so much.
First of all Laufey. Suddenly the man was thrust upon him as some sort of mortal enemy according to a barmy old prophet and he had to- to… kill him. Apparently it wasn't the first time he tried, but never consciously. Furthermore, that man was also, as fates would have it, his father.
"Luke Skywalker," he muttered with a self-deprecating chuckle. It was hilarious, really. Thor's muggle friend, Anthony, had called him that once, said the names were close. When he'd elaborated who the character was, Loki had snorted derisively and had said they were nothing alike. How wrong he'd been.
Maybe he should march in front of Laufey, declare 'I am your son,' and stab him in the heart? It would be dramatic, at least.
The only tells of time passed were the declining amount of light in the room and the house elves bringing him food periodically. Sigyn also came in once or twice. Loki learned of the protest at breakfast, and of Thor looking for him all over the school with no success.
"You didn't tell him anything, did you?" Loki had asked, munching on the fruit she'd brought with her.
"Only that he needn't worry, and that you're safe," Sigyn answered.
"Darn," Loki muttered, laughing when the Hufflepuff huffed and smacked him over the head.
"I'm glad you're okay, after that," Sigyn had said, also. "But I'm starting to wonder if you're bipolar or something."
"No," he'd answered, leaning back in his seat with a small mischievous smile, "just a bag of cats."
Thor was the cue that evening for the fourth years to gather and evacuate. That meant their numbers would officially be too little to cover up, not even with a protest stunt like the one they'd been doing over the past few days. The fourth years students were glad to be out of the crossfire, but the ones fifth year and above were drawn like bowstrings, trying to think of a way to not get caught when the teachers inevitably figured it out, if they hadn't already.
Thor was doubly so. He hadn't seen Loki in two days. He wasn't in the Grand Hall for mealtimes or otherwise. He wasn't anywhere in the castle, in fact, as far as Thor could search. He had only gotten Sigyn's assurance that Loki was fine and that he would show himself when he wanted to, as always. He was worried for his brother.
"Don't be so worried, Thor," Sif said beside him. Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were in the crowd of fourth years, helping them with last-minute concerns and preparations, like the previous few evacuations. There was always the odd student who forgot this or that. They, especially Fandral, were loudly complaining whenever their help for the most mundane tasks was asked, peppering the atmosphere in the room with light cheeky remarks in attempts to ease the tension.
"I feel unsettled," Thor indulged, glancing at Sif. "It's as if we're missing something, or the time is too little."
"Even so, you're doing the best you can," the woman countered, gesturing at the crowd they were watching over proudly. "Your idea is going along splendidly, and you're doing so much good."
Shaking his head, the blonde sighed. "It was not my idea, Sif. It was Loki's. I would never have thought of it myself."
"Even so," she insisted, "it's not like he's here now, is he."
Thor shook his head again, this time in exasperation. The feud between Sif and Loki was mythical, to say the least. Ever since he'd pranked her in his first year, second for Thor and Sif, by cutting off her prized hair, and she'd countered by jinxing his lips shut with a near-permanent spell, the two have been at each other's throats whenever they were in the same vicinity.
"This isn't the time for discord amongst us, Sif," he warned, sweeping his eyes over the crowd one last time before he turned and exited the kitchens, leaving the procession in her capable hands.
Morning rose slowly that day, as if the sun itself was trembling in anticipation and refusing to go up and witness what would happen. Even then, it wrapped itself in light gray clouds and chilly weather in typical Scottish fashion.
Loki, having spent the previous day in the Room of Requirement and thusly awoken in it afterwards, was sitting at the stone window ledge, watching the sunrise serenely. Sigyn had yet to join him for breakfast, but he didn't mind. In the distance the rolling hills were bathed in what little sunlight could break through the cloud coverage. The early morning dew, through the slight mist, made them look almost blue. A bird from the nearby trees flew away. Another followed its lead. Suddenly, an entire flock of birds left the surrounding area and flew away, scared of something.
Loki sat up; he knew that couldn't be a good sign. He squinted in the distance and when he saw flashes of brown and green wrapped unnaturally around blue dots, he knew what he was seeing wasn't a simple morning mirage.
The Frost Giants were marching on Hogwarts.
With a gasp, Loki lurched out of his seat and scrambled over to the door, flying through the corridors at breakneck speed. He nearly collided with someone just as they were exiting a classroom.
"Woah!" The man said, leaping out of the way but placing a hand on Loki's shoulder to stop him in his tracks. "Where to, kid?"
Somewhere deep in his mind a small part of him scoffed and snapped that he was not a kid, thank you very much. He was nearly seventeen! Another part of him nagged incessantly that there was something wrong with this scene, but the panic overruled everything else, so he just babbled hurriedly, "Frost Giants – gasp – attacking – gasp – now."
He leapt away from the hold professor Hoenir had on his shoulder, racing down the corridor towards the Great Hall. Only when he was about to round the corner did his brain catch up with him and he froze in place. Slowly, he turned back, eyes wide, to see professor Hoenir looking at him with a calm little smile.
The speech-impaired professor had just spoken to him with the ease of a teenage American.
Suddenly everything clicked into place. Hoenir's smile widened when he saw the understanding dawn on Loki and in the next moment his wand was out and he was shouting out a spell.
"Bombarda!" It whizzed through the air and Loki leapt behind the corner, the spell colliding with the wall behind him and showering him with chipped pieces of stone. He surged to his feet and ran, hearing the steps of the professor following him.
"Convello," Loki gasped out, pointing his wand behind him. It most certainly didn't connect, but Hoenir had to conjure a shield, so he couldn't cast for a few moments.
Followed by a shower of spells, Loki dashed past the Fat Lady that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor tower.
"Call an alarm!" He screamed at her before another Bombarda nearly connected with her painting and she rushed in another one to escape, her painted eyes wide with fear and indignation. She stormed off before Hoenir could connect another spell to stop her, so he ignored her and continued his chase after Loki.
It was at that moment, though, that Thor was heading down to breakfast. When he opened the portrait, a Petrificus Totalus whizzed over his head and blasted into the Gryffindor common room. The few awake students in there were on their feet in moments, wands drawn.
"What's going on?" Sif shouted in alarm, rushing to the portrait hole. Thor was already out. Loki had stopped at the end of the corridor, trying to stand his ground against the professor long enough for more people to join and help him the hell out.
"The Frost-" he began but the loss of concentration cost him dearly as an Everte Statum connected head on and blasted him back into the wall, the rest of his sentence coming out as a wheeze. Hoenir followed up with an Epoximise to bind Loki's lips together and a Petrificus Totalus to keep him in place before he turned to face the four people who had gathered: Thor, Sif, Hogun, and a sixth year student called Nanna, if memory served well.
"Brother!" Thor exclaimed, shooting an Expelliarmus Hoenir's way. The professor easily blocked and aimed spells at them designed to incapacitate. Seeing that the situation was serious, Sif grabbed a knife from her boot to serve as an additional weapon. The four people spread out in battle formation, dodging and blocking Hoenir's advances.
Loki could only watch as Nanna fell after a Reducto connected and blasted her leg off in the messiest way possible, as Hogun got hit with a Confringo and his wand exploded, taking off his fingers, as Sif got picked off by an Arcus shooting an arrow into her shoulder.
Only Thor was left.
Loki felt his magic stir in the pit of his stomach as Thor did his best to hold his own against Hoenir, but he was slowly going down as well. Anger welled up in Loki's body, his muscles suddenly tensing as his magic went haywire, short-circuiting the Petrificus Totalus and chipping off the Epoximise bit by bit.
He stood up slowly, still fighting off the effect of the full body-bind curse, eyes mad and jaw clenched tightly.
"Imprecari," he hissed lowly, slashing his wand at Hoenir's back. The streak of purple fire connected with nothing to stand in his way and the professor turned and looked at Loki in surprise, his eyes wide as he crumpled to the ground. He coughed out blood, writhing in agony.
"Sectumsempra," Loki purred, a small dark smirk on his lips. The curse went straight for Hoenir's neck, slashing it clean in two.
"Brother!" Thor gasped, horror in his voice. He looked sick to his stomach. Loki whirled, facing the Thunderer and his fallen friends.
"I. Am not. Your brother!" Loki shrieked, backing away. The magic receded from his mind, clearing it. No, he no longer had the right to call himself a brother of Thor's, neither by blood or by family. Not after what he just did.
Who would want a murderer for family?
And he still had one more to murder.
Then a deafening alarm rang throughout the whole school. The Frost Giants; they were here.
Sigyn darted outside as the students started panicking. Thankfully, they were only 5th to 7th years, knew more than a few spells and were capable of eventually stop panicking and defend themselves. That alarm meant something had breached Hogwarts grounds, but what? Where?
Running through a corridor on the upper floors with windows facing the courtyard in her search for Loki, she caught sight of the problem and gasped. Frost Giants. Dozens of them were in the courtyard and beyond the walls she could see more blue spilling across the land. It's not too late, she chanted in her mind hopefully, continuing her run. Then she saw the familiar figure of her friend darting down the stairs.
"Loki!" She called and the man stopped momentarily to throw her a dark glare over his shoulder before he continued on his trek, pulling out a spear from one of the suits of armour on the way. Sigyn stood frozen. Never had she seen those eyes on Loki, aglow with power and madness. There was red staining his face which looked like blood. A shiver went down her spine: fear.
The teachers were assembling in the courtyard, facing down Laufey's army. Audumla approached, her face solemn, and stood at the head of the small army of untrained in combat teachers. Students fifth year and above poured, albeit reluctantly, from the castle and stood behind the teachers. Even then, their size was laughable in comparison to the Frost Giants.
But Audumla knew they were loyal. If Loki were to kill Laufey, they would look to the boy for command. The only thing that bothered her was what Loki would do then. All her moves were carefully calculated, but Loki was the only wildcard.
Laufey watched the assembly with amusement in his eyes, calmly waiting for everyone to gather. He was in no hurry; he was going to win anyway.
"I suggest you surrender," Laufey said finally when it seemed everyone was there.
"Ah, but we are still waiting for a few additions," Audumla said, deceptively calm.
"So did you try apparating next to the unplottable charm of the school and entering manually?" Auror Annar suggested off-handedly earlier that morning as the men assigned to find a way into Hogwarts were trying to figure it out. The room descended in silence.
"That…" Auror Aegir whispered in reverence, "is brilliant."
"Well what are you waiting for?" Odin shouted suddenly, overcoming his shock, "go, go, GO!"
The entire department burst in activity, people gathering their wits and apparating out. Odin moved through the crowd of people and clapped Auror Annar's shoulder. "Good job," he told her.
The Auror beamed at the praise, hurrying off to get ready for battle.
Just as Audumla said that, dozens of Aurors flooded the castle, Odin following in their wake. Laufey tensed, but his army still was larger and more capable than the bunch. He had nothing to be worried about.
But he wasn't in the mood of waiting around any longer.
"Attack!" He shouted, lifting his weapon. Hailstrum, Raze, and a few other Frost Giants remained by his side as protection, while the others answered his battle call and rushed forward. The Aurors were the first line of defense the Giants met, the teachers joining the fight with just the smallest bit of reluctance.
There were at least two Frost Giants for every person on that side, and at least two people were needed to fell a Giant. No matter how he looked at it, Laufey would be the winner of a battle fought in vain by the wizards. He waited and watched, seeing no reason to join the fray yet.
Then suddenly Frost Giants started falling left and right as if mowed by Death herself. Whatever was causing it was coming closer, and Laufey and his guards gripped their weapons, tensing up as they tried to decipher what was approaching.
A black-haired kid with flashing green eyes and lips pulled in a snarl appeared out of the blue in front of Laufey. Hailstrum threw a hail of ice at the boy to warn him away but he just brushed them aside as if they were nothing, spinning swiftly as he grabbed one of them out of the air and leapt at Hailstrum, embedding it into his chest firmly. Hailstrum stumbled back, clutching his chest in shock. The icicle had pierced his heart.
The kid looked at Raze as the giant attempted to attack, only to be stopped by Hailstrum's limp arm raising his spear by its own accord so that Raze speared himself on it in his speed. The kid's face was bathed in blood but he didn't seem bothered by it. As the two warriors fell, he stood, staring at Laufey challengingly. The other fighters gave them a wide berth; Audumla and Odin were too far away to even see what was happening.
Or did they already know? Laufey wondered. But what were they thinking, sending a child to battle him, a fully grown and trained warrior?
"You're only seeking your death, challenging me." He rumbled in warning, lifting his ice club. The kid looked more amused than anything.
"Am I now?" He chuckled mirthlessly, "Am I really, father?" He spat the last word as if it were a curse.
Laufey reared back as if the word had burned him.
"No," he breathed, eyes wide.
"Oh, but yes," Loki purred, an icy sword forming in his hand when he stretched it away. He was upon Laufey in moments but his attacks, albeit deadly, were wild and sloppy. Laufey was forced back but it wasn't hard for him to parry the attacks and swing his own in between. None of the attacks from either side made the mark for a very long time.
They broke apart, panting heavily, Loki more so than Laufey. The sky overhead had darkened considerably but not with the coming of evening, but with storm clouds. The battle was still going strong, which surprised Laufey to an extent. Thunder rolled in the sky.
Loki took the breather to scan his surroundings, keeping an eye on Laufey still. It was his duty to kill the blue bastard, after all. And Odin had told them all about duty, hadn't he?
Dark clouds covered the sky; it appeared that Thor had followed him to the battlefield and was preparing to work his best magic. Lightning and electricity had always been the man's favourite.
The wind picked up and when the cold hit his flushed face, Loki felt his head clear. He could think, finally. Pushing away the gnawing guilt of his previous actions for a more opportune time to break down in another bout of hysterics, he tried to calculate a way to gain victory in the battle in front of him.
He fought off a shudder. There was only one spell that could break through a Frost Giant's impervious skin. He knew what he had to do, for the best of everyone.
Leaping once more into battle, father and son locked in a deadly dance of spears. They clashed and swiped, ducking and rolling away from blows. Loki could feel some deeper gashes on his arms as blood flowed freely from them. Laufey definitely looked better, having only acquired small bruises and cuts.
"Ha," he scoffed derisively, "is that really the best you can do? Is this the warrior Heimdall says would kill me?"
The battle around them quieted down as those words floated over the noise of the fray. Everyone turned to look at the place the two men stood facing each other in shock. Laufey grinned ferally when he felt all the attention focus on them.
Then Loki did something no one expected: he stabbed the icy weapon in the ground and instead raised his wand – slowly but steadily, as if mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. Laufey snorted.
"Don't you know, son," he spat and Loki winced, the fire in his eyes burning brighter, "that Frost Giants cannot be beaten by simple ma-"
"Avada Kedavra."
.
.
.
"This is not the end," Loki whispered, dropping his wand in light of what he had done.
1 Witch – f.; wizard – m.; wix – pl.
2 Shadow Society - Recent term in magical journalism to encompass all societies, including Wix, Vampire, Giant, etc., which are hidden from the common muggle eye.
So what do you think? The last scenes are too rushed, I know. I had to, cause the deadline was approaching :P
R&R please!