Laufey looked amid the chaos, the ruined debris and destruction of his once peaceful land. He swallowed hard, in one arm clutching one of the last things he possessed-The Casket of Ancient Winters. In his other, he was throwing aside crumbled pillars, attempting to break open the door to the temple where he had sent his wife and child to flee.
'Don't be dead, don't be dead,' he silently pleaded, though hope was running low.
Both Helblindi and Byleister had fallen in the battle. His two courageous, elder sons. So wise, strong, and smart were they, Helblindi being the eldest and the heir to the throne. Both fell quickly. Helblindi took a spear to the stomach, coughing up blue blood as he stumbled and crashed onto the snow-covered ground, staining it aquamarine as his eyes glanced up, looking once more at the cold sky and then saw no more
Byleister had roared in outrage, charging down Helblindi's murderer and snapping his neck quickly through his fingertips as if it were a meager crumb of bread. But he didn't see the cunning Asgardian who had slipped so silently behind him, before in revenge for his ally, slicing the spear across his throat. The two brothers had lain side by side in death, eyes whimsically staring at nothing, like glassy crimson orbs reflecting none but the barren, cold moon that had for a long time encircled Jotunheim like an unforgiving deity. The moon was nearly hidden tonight. Mourning, hiding for the many killed on the battlefield.
Laufey finally made an entrance. A tight one, but nonetheless he fit through. He eased his way around the broken bits, sharp and scratchy. A little blood was drawn in his fight through the crumbly mess to make his way to his remaining family.
Alas, his hope was lost. For there stood Odin, Gungnir in one hand, the other holding the babe Loki, whose skin had turned pink as a pig roast. Laufey swallowed, gritting his teeth. The Allfather glanced from the golden, powerful glory in one hand, to the babe he was holding tightly, paler than his own skin. His ripped out eye mingled with his smirk-that look on his face would haunt Laufey for moons to come.
As for Farbauti, he lay dead. On the cold stone floor. His blood smeared all over the tip of Gungnir. The Allfather had slain the innocent queen. Tears began to slip from Laufey's eyes.
"What did you desire from this skirmish, Allfather? Haven't you done enough? Are you to kill my youngest son as well, an innocent babe who has done no crime other than being born in such dark times?" Laufey rasped, though it was no higher than a whisper. His heart felt like a stone in his chest, his eyes drifting back to Farbauti.
Farbauti looked hauntingly peaceful. He had been shorter than Laufey, nearly an unnatural size for a Jotun. His long black hair fell in waves around his body, as if a cocoon to hide the truth of the bloody, irrationally large hole in his chest. His hands were taut, still right at the edges of the very spot. They would never move again, to cup Laufey's cheek and comfort him in his time of distress. Laufey would never hear Farbauti laugh and call his name, coo and tease him over silly little jokes and useless vanities.
The Queen of Jotunheim was upmost certainly dead, and no magic in the Realms could bring him back.
"I see we are at a standoff, King Laufey. I am willing to compromise for the child." Odin's voice drew Laufey temporarily from his horrors. He blinked, narrowing his lucidly vengeful eyes.
Odin's smile only remained. He seemed so calm, and Laufey knew why. He was called the 'Mad King' for a reason in the Nine Realms. He was a murderer, a conqueror, a wild animal sitting on a throne and he abused his powers in such a frightful manner. Laufey felt like he was going to be sick. Compromise? What compromise would there be? There was no equality-in the end, Odin always won. That was what he was known for. Winning.
"The Casket, for the babe." Odin said. Laufey raised his eyebrows, looking to the powerful weapon he had tucked under his arm.
This was difficult. All the power, keeping Jotunheim thriving, for his son? Both were priceless...but Laufey was grieving, his mind twisted into hatred for the Allfather and fear for Loki.
Without a single doubt, he held out the Casket, his other hand gesturing for the dwarfed Frost Giant infant. Odin obliged, handing him the baby and quickly taking the glowing blue casket into his hands.
Wordlessly, Odin turned and left behind him. Laufey didn't need to go after him any longer. It was done. Loki was all he had now.
He looked at the tiny child, whom he was cradling in his arms, rocking back and forth. He sank to his knees, suddenly unable to contain his grief. He wept for a long time. He wept for losing the Casket. He wept for the death of many innocent Jotuns, as well as his two sons. And most of all, he wept for Farbauti, his beloved, the beautiful Frost Giant he had given his soul to.
"I will never let you out of my sight," he promised tiny Loki, who began to wail for his mother's milk and sustenance, "I will protect you from that monster."
