Howl

"Very good, Loki!" Frigga said, smiling broadly as her son's illusion faded away. "Even I couldn't tell the difference. You're going to be better than me at this, soon."

"I don't think I'll ever be better than you, mother," Loki said, smiling sheepishly as Frigga ruffled his hair.

"Nonsense," she replied, taking a seat on a nearby couch. "It's every child's duty to surpass their parents someday. You and Thor are destined for great things."

Loki sat down next to his mother, his eyes bright with childlike curiosity.

"Tell me a story," he said. "Who are the best enchanters in the Nine Realms?"

"Those would be, as much as I hate to admit it," Frigga answered, "the Frost Giants of Jötunheim. Their sorcerers are master illusionists—one of them even bested me in battle when I was younger, and your father had to bargain for my release."

"Were you scared?"

"No, I wasn't," Frigga said, smiling. "Laufey was smart enough to know what I was worth to your father, and that I could get him more alive than dead.

"But among the sorcerers of Jötunheim," she continued, her voice growing softer theatrically, "there was one who was neither Asgardian nor Frost Giant. A creature born from some other source, one that even I don't know. He was the greatest sorcerer under Laufey's command, and his name was Fenris."

Loki seemed puzzled by his mother's words, and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"But if Fenris wasn't from Asgard, and he wasn't a Frost Giant," he said, "then what was he?"

"He could shift his appearance to anything he wanted," Frigga explained, "but his true form was that of a wolf. Think of the biggest wolf you can imagine, and then make it three times bigger. Fenris was so powerful that he almost stopped Odin's final attack on Laufey… but for some reason, he withdrew when the fighting was at its worst, and your father won the day."

Loki was quiet for several moments, looking off into the distance. When he met his mother's eyes again, his expression was bright and focused with purpose.

"I'm going to meet Fenris," he said with conviction. "I'm going to find him in Jötunheim, and I'm going to learn everything he knows."

Frigga laughed, ruffling her son's hair again.

"I don't think you should try," she said. "He'd probably eat you for a snack."

Loki laughed, smiling as he focused again before rising to his feet.

"Can we go another round?" he asked, and Frigga nodded.

"Of course," she said fondly. "But I'm not going to go easy on you this time."

Loki grinned, readying a spell.

"Good," he said. "It's more fun that way."

Ever since Loki had managed to find the hidden path out of Asgard, a road that even Heimdall could not walk, he'd taken weekly trips to the frozen wastes of Jötunheim to look for Fenris. But the wolf had proven impossible to track down, which Loki found odd for a creature that was supposedly massive enough to be seen from miles away.

On this particular trip, however, Loki had managed to stumble across a small group of Frost Giants… small in number, at least, if not in stature.

"What are you doing here, Asgardian?" one of them asked, while his three companions looked warily at Loki. "Have you come for war, like your oaf of a brother? We are not such weak sport as your kind might think."

"My brother is not an oaf," Loki said sharply, "and I'm not here for bloodshed. I don't care about you Frost Giants. I seek someone else."

"Someone else?" the Frost Giant repeated, his hostility replaced with curiosity. "Who else is there to seek in Jötunheim but us?"

"Fenris."

Loki's answer sent silence slicing through the four Frost Giants, and their speaker looked at him like he'd grown horns.

"Fenris?" the Frost Giant repeated, his red eyes wide. "To seek the Wolf is to seek suffering and death, Asgardian. We offer our shamed and disgraced to him as sacrifices, and you would seek him out of your own will? Why?"

"I would learn his secrets," Loki answered, his voice betraying no fear at all. "Knowledge is power, and no knowledge is more powerful than that of old magic."

The Frost Giants stared at Loki for a few heartbeats, and then they all began to laugh.

"If you want to march off to your death, little princeling," one of the other Frost Giants said through her laughter, "then by all means, go ahead. Follow the brightest star in the sky until you come to a three-forked road. Take the rightmost path, and follow that until you come to a cave. That cave is where Fenris makes his den. If death is what you desire, it will find you there."

"My thanks," Loki said shortly, biting back his anger at the Giants' mockery. He had more important things to do now than trade fruitless insults with a bunch of halfwits.

Loki turned his green eyes to the sky and followed the brightest star he could see, paying no attention to the thick snowfall and the winds that tore at his skin. Oddly, for all the stories he'd heard from older Asgardian soldiers about how cold the winds of Jötunheim were, Loki had never been bothered by them. Perhaps his mother had cast a protective charm over him without his knowledge?

Whatever the cause, Loki was grateful for the lack of discomfort. As he walked, his thoughts turned to the rest of his family back home. Thor and the three warriors he always seemed to be hanging around with had just recently enlisted in the ranks of the Asgardian military after earning distinction in training, but none of them had managed to snag the spot at the top of their recruiting class.

That honor had gone to Sif, the scrawny slip of a girl who had grown into quite a fearsome fighter in her own right. Loki thought back to the grin she'd given Thor when their rankings had been announced, and couldn't keep from smiling as well. Sif had done a better job of giving Thor a rude shock than Loki ever had, for all of his tricks and illusions.

Loki's smile fell from his face, though, when he remembered what had happened when he'd tried to go thank Sif in person.

"Get lost, sorcerer. This table's for warriors only."

"You have to earn your seat here, Loki. Can't just ride on your mother's name."

Loki had waited a few moments for his brother to bail him out in typically loudmouthed fashion, but Thor had been too busy horsing around with Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral to see what was happening.

"Loki? There you are," Sif's voice had broken in surprising the two warriors that were barring Loki's path. "Thor's been waiting for you. Come on," she'd said with a grin. "All this ale isn't going to drink itself."

Sif had grabbed Loki by the arm and all but dragged him to the table, giving him precious few moments to lift his free hand behind him and hex the two shocked warriors, turning them into frogs.

Loki blinked and shook his head to bring his mind back into the present, where he found himself at the three-pronged crossroads the Frost Giant had spoken of. Taking the rightmost path, Loki shoved all thoughts of Thor, Sif and the rest of them from his mind. Loki knew he would have to have all of his wits about him for what was to come, or Fenris would most likely murder him and devour his body.

What a disgraceful end that would be.

It wasn't much longer before Loki came to the mouth of the cave, and he could feel the power hiding within it. He took a calming breath, remembering the spells his mother had taught him. Loki's foot hesitated on the threshold of the cave, his body's last instinctive attempt to warn him away from the cave. But he mastered his fear and journeyed into the darkness, trying not to let the ominous smell of rotting Giant flesh weaken his resolve.

"Now, this is interesting," a low, rumbling voice spoke out from deep within the cave, predatory strength lacing each word. "You're no Frost Giant, and yet you come alone into my den. Unafraid, or as unafraid as you can fool yourself into pretending to be." The wolf's nose sniffed the air twice. "Hmmm, I haven't caught a scent like this in a long time, indeed. Strange. I would know your name, boy, and your purpose."

"My name is Loki, son of Odin, king of Asgard," Loki answered confidently, speaking into the darkness. "I have come to learn your secrets, Lord Fenris."

"Loki. I see. Ah, yes, I see now," Fenris said, sounding satisfied. "Now this all makes sense, at last. I've been waiting for you, boy. You, who know not whom, or what, you are."

There was a deep rumbling sound within the cave, one which grew louder and louder with each passing moment. Soon enough, Loki could see two enormous, burning orange eyes staring out at him from within the darkness.

And beneath those eyes was a long mouth, full of sharp teeth that barely glinted in the faint light that seeped through the mouth of the cave.

"You want my secrets, do you?" Fenris asked, sounding amused. "My knowledge? I would warn you, few who desire to hear what I would tell them are happy with what I augur."

"I did not come this far to fail now," Loki said defiantly, his pride driving away the fear that had begun to creep up his spine. "You know the ways to power, sorcerer, and I would learn them from you."

"Such pride," Fenris said, chuckling. "To say nothing of your arrogance. You wish for my knowledge? Very well, Loki, son of a frozen king. I will speak a prophecy for you.

"Two deaths will the foundling know, son of no mother with no father to call his own. Death waits for him on the dusty plains of Svartalfheim, and in the golden halls of Asgard. Twice will he be a patricide, heir to two thrones and holder only of one, not in name, cloaked in the skin of his predecessor.

"His heart will be frozen," Fenris continued, as Loki began to feel his pulse increase and an uncomfortable weight hang over his shoulders. "He will give it to two who have given theirs to another, only to watch it shatter to pieces and scatter on the wind.

"Knowing this," the wolf finished, "knowing that only pain and suffering wait for you, and that no power you possess with keep it from tearing you down, do you still wish to learn what I have to teach you?"

"Yes," Loki forced himself to say, pushing the word past parched lips. "Name your price and I will see it paid, Fenris."

The wolf laughed, and the sound chilled Loki to the core.

"Very well," he said. "When you sit on your throne, Loki the Deceiver, I would have a place at your right hand, and free rein enough to do whatsoever I wished."

"And why would I trust you to not simply take the throne for yourself?"

"Because heavy is the head that wears the crown, Loki the Lost. Some day, you will understand this truth.

"Now," Fenris finished, moving the rest of the way out of the darkness and staring Loki down, "let us begin."

Loki had to admit, he would never get tired of the view from the All-Father's throne. Even if he had to wear the illusion of Odin to sit on the throne of Asgard, it was a small price to pay for holding complete dominion over one of the mightiest of the Nine Realms.

So, my birthright was to die, old man? He mused as the door to the throne room opened, smirking maliciously to himself. After you.

"My king," Sif's voice broke into Loki's thoughts, "there is someone here to see you. He claims to be a sorcerer who met you long ago, in Jötunheim."

"Rise, Sif," Loki said, pushing away his irritation as his words came out sounding like Odin's.

He would never be able to show her his face again. Dead Asgardians didn't simply rise from the grave, after all. Not to mention that he'd have to explain the rather tricky matter of where Odin had gone off to.

"Send the sorcerer in," Loki continued. "I will see what it is he desires."

"Of course, All-Father," Sif said with another bow, before turning and beginning to exit the throne room. Loki watched her as she went, remembering the time she'd stuck up for him at the mead hall all those years ago.

My foolish brother, you know not what gold you've thrown into the mud.

A few moments later, a man with long, unkempt brown hair and a weathered face full of wrinkles and scars strode into the throne room, his eerily orange eyes contrasting sharply with the rich black robes he wore, lined with gray fur.

"It's been a long time, All-Father," the man said, his smile revealing canine teeth that were more fanged than a typical Asgardian's. "Although I do remember you looking a bit different the last time we spoke."

Loki smiled in spite of himself, rising from the throne and taking hold of Odin's spear.

"Indeed, old friend," he said. "It has been too long. I take it you are here to collect on your debt at last?"

"I am," Fenris answered, his smile widening. "But I will not trouble you for much, my king."

Loki's smile widened in kind at the twisted mockery of formality; he had to give his respect to good theatricality when he saw it.

"Whatever it is you desire," he said to his former teacher, "you have more than earned it. Everything unfolded as you foretold, to a word. I must admit, I'm impressed."

"And strong of spirit indeed, to not have been crushed by the path you chose to walk," Fenris said. "I would ask but a word of you, All-Father."

"Name it."

"War."

Loki smiled through Odin's face.

"That, I can do. And what might be the target?"

"Jötunheim," Fenris answered. "Without Laufey, the Frost Giants are lame, blind and shambled. We will crush them completely, and I will sit on the Throne of Ice.

"After all, old friend," Fenris continued with a vicious grin, "why should we content ourselves with one realm, when two would be just as simple to rule?"

"Why indeed," Loki agreed, grinning as well. "I like the way you think."

"I think you'll like the way I wage war even better," Fenris said with a chuckle, dropping his voice low. "Were it not for the fact that the Fates must be paid their dues, I would have crushed Odin's head between my jaws long ago. Still, I suppose the time will come for that soon enough."

"Convincing the rest of Asgard to enter into another full-blown war will be tricky, though," Loki said, the wheels in his head beginning to turn. "They would need a catalyst."

"They would, of course," Fenris replied, smirking. "I have heard a particularly interesting rumor, All-Father. Did you know that there are sorcerers on Jötunheim who are particularly skilled at the art of necromancy?"

"Oh?" Loki said, genuinely surprised and equally angered at being so. "You failed to mention this before, old friend."

"Nevertheless, it is the truth," Fenris said, sounding supremely smug. "And they seem to be claiming to have resurrected Odin, son of Bor."

"What?" Loki breathed, shocked.

"And not only that," Fenris continued, gleeful mischief in his eyes even as his voice remained calm, "but they claim Odin fights on the side of the Frost Giants now. But that must be impossible, since Odin stands before me now, most certainly not dead."

"Why would you do this?" Loki said in a half-hiss, stepping towards Fenris and staring him dead in the eyes. "Are you trying to get me executed?"

"I'm trying to give you this throne legitimately, child," Fenris replied, unfazed. "We fake your death, and then the Frost Giants make Odin's 'resurrection' known to the people of Asgard. You emerge from the shadows, telling truthfully that your death was an illusion, and you strike down the Frost Giants and their false pretender.

"All of Asgard will have no choice but to name you king, since Thor will refuse the throne. Hel, he might even endorse you claim.

"And you and I both know," Fenris finished, a gleam in his bright orange eyes, "that every king needs a queen.

"So, Loki Laufeyson, will you carry out my most modest demand, and consider our debt paid?"

Loki grinned, letting the illusionary face of Odin fall away from him.

"Nothing would make me happier, my old friend," he said, surrendering Odin's spear to Fenris.

"To war, then."

Fenris grinned, ancient bloodlust in his eyes as he made ready to strike.

"To war."

…

…

…

A/N: So yeah. I watched Thor 2 yesterday, and then this happened. I played a little fast and loose with the mythology I spliced in here at points, but making Loki Fenris' father (as he is in the myths) was something I just couldn't make work, so hey. Old mentor figure it is.

I hope you enjoyed it, and that I did justice to the characters, and Loki in particular. He really is my favorite part of this series; Hiddleston's performance is as multifaceted and tragic as I've always imagined the mythological Loki to be, which is no small feat.

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought!

- JP