To Know for Certain
Frigga brushed his cheek then pushed him toward Odin.
Loki kept his head down. Thor wasn't with him. That meant he was in trouble for something. He couldn't remember doing anything too bad to deserve his father's notice. And Odin only ever noticed him for something bad.
"Come, Loki. I will share with you a secret, and you must not share it with anyone else."
Loki peeked at Odin from the corner of his eye. "Not even Thor?" he asked.
Odin shook his head. "Not even your brother."
Loki perked up at the thought of keeping secrets from Thor and the mischief he could cause, but the idea of his father trusting him made him wary. Perhaps this was a new kind of punishment. It was best not to ask.
Odin walked ahead, Gungnir tapping with his pace, and Loki followed him to the Vault of Treasures. At the top of the steps leading to the most dangerous items, Odin looked at him strangely and for too long. Loki thought he only looked at Thor this way.
"Loki, my son," said Odin. "You are my son, and nothing will ever change that. But you must know your origins so that you can move forward on a clear path."
Loki's eyes widened with realization. "I am not Frigga's son."
"Take my hand, Loki."
Loki took Odin's hand and together they walked down the steps toward the most dangerous objects under guard. The news was disappointing, but not too shocking. He didn't look like Frigga at all. But for the magic she had shared with him, they could've been strangers. Why bring him all this way to tell him that? He must think I'll throw a tantrum. But I'm not Thor. I'll show him how cool I am.
After a while, his interest in all the weapons and mystical objects they were walking past distracted him from his purpose. They stopped in front of a pedestal on which rested a small box that glowed greenish blue. The blue was within a frame of gold that curved inward at the edges to form two handles. "Do you know what this is?" asked Odin.
Loki knew of course. He wondered if Thor would. "It is the Casket of Ancient Winters. The power of the Frost Giants. They seek it to destroy Asgard." He waited eagerly for praise.
"Asgard and Jotunheim have been at peace these few years, only because their destructive power is locked away within our vaults."
His shoulders sagged. "As it should be, Father."
"Don't you think a genuine truce would be better? An alliance even?"
"Alliance? What would be the point of that?"
"A steadier peace, Loki. Freedom from fear."
Loki made a face. "But they're monsters. They'd kill us for sport. They did in the ancient wars. They wanted to freeze us to death."
"I have slain countless Jotuns over millennia. My name is a curse on Jotunheim. To its people, I am a monster."
Loki slipped into deep contemplation. One might almost hear the cogs turning in his mind. He gazed uncertainly into Odin's eye. "Why do you want me to sympathize with Jotuns, Father?"
"Loki. My boy. You are cleverer than any so young, and many much older. Forgive me for placing this burden on your shoulders, but I know I am right to entrust this to you."
"What burden, Father?" said Loki. He fought the urge to shrink from the man and whatever burden he spoke of.
Odin took hold of Loki's hand and squeezed it. "Touch the casket, Loki."
Loki turned to the casket, and froze for a long moment, but in the end, curiosity overrode his fear. As though it were a wild dog taking his scent, he reached out and touched a finger to the glowing blue. The color spread into his hand and up his arm. He shouted and jumped backed. Only Odin's tight grip on his other hand kept him from running away.
He glared at his father. No Odin. "You lie! It's lies! A trick! You-you and Thor are getting me back for the snake."
"No, Loki."
"No! It's not true." Tears sprung into his eyes. "I'm not a…I'm not…" He started to cry.
Odin knelt in front of him, still holding his hand. "You are a Frost Giant, Loki. And you are my son. Whether your blood be of Odin or Laufey—"
"Laufey?!" the boy shouted. He grabbed Odin's arm, blubbering. "No. Please. I'm sorry. I'll never play another trick. I'll be good like Thor. I'll learn the sword. Or the spear. I'll give up magic. Please. Just say it's not true."
"It is the truth, Loki."
"No! Please! I'll do anything! I'll be a Frost Giant! Don't make me son of Laufey! Please! Sir! Odin! Allfather!"
"Loki!"
Odin's yell startled the boy to silence. He gaped at Odin through the tears drowning his eyes.
Odin let go of his hand and cupped his face. "You are Odinson. No matter what. Mine and Frigga's. You will never be anyone else's." He brushed a tear off Loki's cheek. "You were such a small thing. Smaller than Thor had been at birth. No bigger than my hand. I found you naked in the snow, cast away and left to die. I thought you dead already, but when I picked you up you moved, you breathed. You had the markings of Laufey, but as you looked into my eyes, your skin became like mine. There was death all around us. The blood of Jotuns and Asgardians intermixed. As I watched you struggle for life amidst all that, I thought how wonderful it would be if our peoples never had to war again."
Loki bit his tongue. So he was just a pawn? A puppet for diplomacy? Odin's pet freak? Fresh tears sprang into his eyes. That explained everything.
Odin nudged Loki's chin to make him look at him. "Frigga took to you at once and nursed you right beside your brother. She knew what you were and never once cared. If you will despise me, Loki, do not hate your mother. She loved you long before I properly learned to."
Loki stared at Odin for a long while, wide-eyed and hiccupping. "You love me?"
Odin frowned. "Of course, I love you, Loki."
Loki wiped his face, but more tears came anyway. "But I am…I'm not strong like Thor."
"You have your own strengths, Loki. Attributes that Thor does not possess. You will grow into them in time. And my sons will sharpen each other like two fine blades."
Loki sniffled. "So, I'm not a monster?"
"No more a monster than I."
Loki's eyes wandered side to side as he processed Odin's words. They calmed him enough to stop his tears, but not his terror. He didn't know what he was anymore. Or who. He looked back at the casket and then at Odin. His father?
He lunged for the casket and pulled it down from the pedestal. This time he let the blue continue up his arms and all the way throughout his body. It was deep and dark like a troubled ocean. Ice cold power rushed through him. A feeling of endless possibility. Invulnerability. He could take everything he wanted. Everything he never dreamed he could have. Wipe out Asgard. Sit on a throne of his own making. Odin would be powerless to stop him. He felt the casket's magic merge with his own and come alive, ready to heed his will. He turned to Odin with the casket before him, glowing with eternal winter's fury. "And now?"
Odin only gazed back at him, his spear at ease. "What makes one a monster is not his body but his heart. The wise know this."
Loki focused with all his might on his magic, his gift from Frigga, and tore it from the casket. Then with even greater effort he pushed the foreign power back into the casket and replaced it on the pedestal. His flesh retained the color and markings of the Frost Giants until he looked again at his father. He felt shame, but Odin's face showed pride. Slowly, some of that pride seeped into him. "But not all are wise," he said.
"That is true," said Odin. "Which is why your origins must remain secret. I want to keep you safe, and I would tempt no fools to try and hurt you. For you see, I would have to enlighten them." He smiled ominously.
Loki smiled with him at first, but then began to frown again. "Will I have to hide it forever?"
Odin placed a hand on his head. "When you are an adult and able to defend yourself, the decision will be yours. Whatever you decide, no one dare call you Laufeyson."
Gungnir pulsed in agreement.
Loki hugged his father's leg and cried for a completely different reason. "Thank you for loving me, Father."
Odin laughed. "My son, you thank my heart for beating." He ruffled Loki's hair.
Loki wiped his tears and smiled up at him, then together they left the vault.
Now instead of envying Thor and wondering why he could never match him, Loki would hone his own skills and excel where he was best suited. Maybe even surpass him. But that thought didn't give him the joy it used to. He didn't need to be better than his brother, or even to match him, not now that he knew for certain—he slipped his hand into Odin's and the man smiled down at him—that his father loved him.
