Prologue
It wasn't the first time that Loki's life was ruined by a bet – that honor went to Brokkr and his seamstress. It certainly wouldn't be the last. But it held the most power over his nightmares, and cut the deepest into his soul.
The first of winter was fast approaching, and Jotunheim was restless. There was talk of an imminent attack and memories of the hard-won war haunted the city. The Aesir were on the brink of panic.
It was the perfect environment for the Builder, as he insisted on being called, to make his demands. Despite the insanity of his request – the sun, moon, and hand of the realms' most beautiful maiden – the wall he offered, and the safety it provided, was a cause for debate.
Odin called for a meeting within an instant. The council chamber was filled with a cacophony of shouts. They ranged from 'this is madness!' to 'give the man what he wants, for Norns' sake!' It was in this tidal wave of sound that Loki Odinson offered his solution; why not agree to the Builder's terms, but impose their own impossible conditions. Give the Builder until the first snow fall, just a few months away, to complete the promised wall. Anything longer would result in the forfeit of the Builder's terms. It was such a short time, and the Aesir themselves had been trying for years to complete the same task. Surely one lowly smith would fail, and they would receive their prize without paying anything.
The princes had been invited to sit in on the discussion, both as a treat to celebrate their first steps into manhood - Thor was officially old enough to be considered a warrior, and his brother wasn't far behind - and as a lesson in politics. They were both many centuries away from leaving childhood behind, and attending such adult matters was an honor. Thor was bored out of his mind, but Loki was eager to prove himself worthy of that honor. So eager, was he, that he didn't mind that the councilman sitting next to him took the whispered idea as his own.
The way that the rest of the council embraced the idea made Loki's pride swell, and that was enough. It didn't matter that the credit was taken from him; it was still his plan. It didn't bother him. Really.
They went with the plan, and the Builder accepted, only requesting the use of his steed for assistance. The council agreed, and the work began.
Naturally, the plan became Loki's idea as soon as things took an ugly turn.
#
As the season came close to its end, Loki noticed the harsh whispers and the accusing stares that were sent his way. Though the behavior was more hostile than he was used to, the boy didn't pay it much mind until the day Freya cornered him.
The older girl grabbed him as he returned from his latest trip to the library. His arm load of books went flying as she slammed him against the wall.
"I know what you did, you little snake," she snarled in his face. The girl was at the edge of womanhood, and was fairly declared the most lovely maiden in all the nine realms. Even enraged as she was now, Freya was the picture of celestial beauty. Her eyes were cold and hard, like a frozen ocean.
Swallowing thickly, Loki ran through the considerable inventory of his pranks, and came up with nothing in recent times that may have angered her so. So, he tentatively asked what she meant, and received a harsh smack for the inquiry.
His head rocked against the stone, and he sent the girl a shocked look. Since the Vanaheim princess came to the city, to train along with her brother to be the future leaders of Asgard's sister realm, she and Loki hadn't been terribly close. That being said, his family had treated her as one of their own since her arrival, and he thought that there was some degree of affection between them.
Apparently, he was wrong.
"Freya?" He gently rubbed the stinging cheek and sent her a hurt look.
"Don't try to play innocent with me," she snapped. "You convinced the council to go along with your vile plan, and now I am expected to marry that thing."
"But I—"
"I know you have always been jealous of me, but this is going to far."
"Are you really that deluded?" Anger raced to the front of his mind and he leaned forward to glare at her. Freya pushed him back against the wall.
"It is no secret how your jealous little mind works. Always eager to try and tear down your betters." Loki scowled and swallowed down a stab of hurt. The girl went on before he could make another attempt to speak. "But you go too far with this one, Loki. I've seen the way that man looks at me," she broke off with a shudder. "I will not be prey to him for your pettiness. If you don't find a way to fix this, I swear…your head will be the first thing I ask for in my wedding dowry. I will not be the only one to suffer, Loki. You will pay." She whirled on her heels and stalked away.
Loki watched her go, one hand at his cheek and sickening hurt churning in his belly. He had become accustom to suspicion from his fellow Aesir over the course of his young life; he was, after all, very odd. But out right violence, particularly from someone in his own family… and he didn't even know what he did wrong!
In the corner of his eye, Loki caught sight of the councilman who'd claimed his idea, and hot rage replaced betrayal.
"You," he shouted.
The man respectfully inclined his head as Loki approached. "Prince Loki."
"You've convinced them all that this is my fault. They hate me."
"We all have to take responsibility for our actions, young prince." The man spoke in the slow, calm way that was reserved for particularly unruly children. Loki bristled
"You are the one who proposed this action to the council."
"Only once you planted the idea into my mind."
"What?" Loki shouted, eyes bulging in disbelief. "But I didn't. You—"
"I have already informed the council and the All-father of your fault in the matter. And they have informed much of Asgard. Do you truly think you can convince them otherwise?"
Loki swallowed hard, thinking back to the angry, suspicious stares directed at him over the last few days, and of Freya's angry words. Of course Loki wouldn't be able to convince anyone he wasn't at fault. He was the dark shadow of the golden family of Asgard, the one with the inappropriate interest in the womanly art of magic. The Lie-smith and the mischief maker.
Loki clenched his jaw to stop his lower lip from quivering. "It's not my fault." His voice still quivered despite his efforts, and he felt the tell-tale ache of tears behind his eyes.
"The Builder asks for something that we cannot possibly give, and your plan makes it so that we must comply," the councilman spoke in that same, condescending voice, as if Loki hadn't spoken. "If this wall is finished, before the end of this season, there will need to be recompense. Your life will be forfeit."
"My father wouldn't allow…" His hand unconsciously traveled to his lips as he trailed off. He learned to cover his appearance with a glamour a few years after the incident with Brokkr, but he could still feel the scars along his upper and lower lips.
The councilman watched the motion with sharp eyes. He grinned with a nasty flash of teeth. "It wouldn't be the first time your father overlooked matters involving your head, now would it?"
Loki's legs suddenly felt very weak. He sent a frightened look up to the man, and abandoned any attempts to keep his emotions in check.
"What am I going to do?"
The councilman stared down at Loki with no small amount of disdain, the first expression to cross his face that wasn't calm adult superiority.
"You consider yourself quite clever, my Prince. I am sure you will think of something."
The man left without another word, and Loki allowed himself to curl into a ball of abject misery.
#
The end of the season was less than three days away, and Loki could see that the Builder would finish his task in two. But he could also see a way to delay the man.
The Builder worked tirelessly throughout the day, and while he rested during the night, his steed pulled the great stone blocks for him to use the next morning. The two worked together like clockwork, and that was the key to winning this: disrupting one part of the chain would destroy the entire system. If he could distract the steed long enough, the Builder wouldn't be able to make up the lost time.
Loki nodded to himself as he watched the Builder retire for the night, and he waited for the steed to arrive. He couldn't risk being seen interfering – the terms of the deal would automatically be forfeited to the Builder if he was found out – and his skills in shapeshifting were still developing, but he felt confident in his plan. He didn't have any choice but for it to work.
The horse trotted toward the wall. It was a truly enormous creature, almost as large as the average peasant's dwelling. It's hide and main were like the night sky, and its hide gleamed in the starlight. The steed went to the first of the great stones, and began nudging it toward the partially finished wall. It was finished within seconds, and trotted back for the next stone. Loki steeled himself and began to slip out of his clothing.
Svadilfari, he reminded himself. The steed's name was Svadilfari, as Loki had learned over the last few days. It was important to know every possible detail about your enemy before confronting them.
Nodding again, this time in resolve, Loki focused on shifting his form. Magic danced over his skin, and Loki fought a grimace. Shifting wasn't painful, but it made his skin tingle like a burning itch, and it was definitely unpleasant. He hunched until he was on all fours, and his scrawny appendages bulged into powerful muscles. His line of sight elevated as his form grew. In less than a blink, a young mare, with a mane and hide as dark as the stallion's, stood where Loki had once been.
Loki blinked in confusion at the change to his sex, but after a moment's thought, it made sense. The female form was smaller, and his subconscious recognized it as the easier choice. He could use this to his advantage. He took a couple of shaky, experimental steps forward. When his legs didn't give out, Loki took bolder steps. When those didn't fail, Loki took another steadying breath. Then he set out to distract the great monster horse.
#
The end of the season arrived, and the wall was not complete. The city breathed a collective sigh of relief, and awaited the completion of the great wall.
It took another day for the Aesir to realize that the Builder did not intend to return. Warriors were dispatched within an hour to bring the oath-breaker to justice.
It took three months for the city to realize that their youngest prince had gone missing around the same time as the Builder. Thinking that the boy had hidden himself in fear of punishment, it took another week to form a search party to search for him.
It was another nine months before either Loki or the Builder were found.
The Builder was punished, and the great steed, Svadilfari, locked in the palace stables. The young prince isolated himself to his chambers for another several months, and in that time, the All-Father's steed, Sleipnir, was born.
Rumors that the young prince had birthed the eight-legged creature spread like wild fire. Though people quickly learned not to speak such gossip in front of the royal family, Prince Thor was especially violent upon hearing any hint of the rumor and the rage of the King and Queen was nothing to sneeze at, the rumors didn't dissipate.
It was impossible to determine just who started it, but many among the castle believed it was Freya; the only ones who knew anything of Sleipnir were a select number of royal servants, and the royal family. Freya's dislike of the second prince was well known, as was her love of gossip.
Regardless of what could be proven, the girl was an obvious culprit. And if Freya awoke every day with snakes in her bed, until the day she left for Vanaheim, there was no way to prove that Loki was responsible.