Hello there! I know it's been very long, but, finally, here's is the sequel to "The Secrets in Telling".

I hate having to say it, but the lawyer in me can't resist: I do not own anything that you recognize, be it characters, storylines, places or dialogue.

Also, you don't need to worry about spoilers; the events of Thor:Ragnarok will be in this story, but only at the very end and that is still months away ;)
I rambled enough now. Please enjoy!


Next to Normal


My brother was always unpredictable.

He could plan his steps for years to come, to ensure elaborate revenge or a perfect coup - and he could be rash and throw himself and everyone around him into chaos.
He could assure me that he loved me one day - more than anything else in the world - and threaten to kill me the next. He would mean both of these things.
He had always been wise beyond his years and yet he was perhaps the most foolish man I knew.
He was a master with a dagger and yet everyone considered him a scholar rather than a warrior.

It was that him who had arguably caused all the upset in my life. Without him, I would never have been banished to Midgard. I would never have had to fight aliens in a Midgardian city. Without him, my father would still be alive and I would be home, and not plotting and planning in exile.

I hated him. I loved him.

Which was why I kept doing what I did. It did not matter that he had murdered Odin or had me imprisoned. It did not matter that he had faked his own death - twice - or that he had stolen my throne.
I could not stay away for good.

Loki always threw a fit when I came. It was all pretend, of course, because he could have prevented me coming to him. Our magic was still connected and only he knew how to block this connection. If he had not wanted to see me, he could have just taken the ability away from me. He never did.

Today, he tried a new approach: Loki pretended to be too busy to see me. Until now, he had concealed his work from me and I had made no effort to find out any details. He would give nothing away.

"You better leave," he announced without looking up from his papers. It had not taken seconds for him to notice my projection - but then he would have felt the pull of our combined magic before he would ever see me.
His desk was overflowing with notes and letters, some even had fallen to the floor and whole bunch had been deposited on his bed. It looked more like what I would expect of our brother Thor if he were the king - Loki usually kept things meticulously clean.

"I planned for other company tonight," Loki continued.

I did not believe it for a second. "I'm sure she's delightful." His lip curled into a sneer. "I won't keep you long."

"I said nothing about a girl," he bit back.

I quirked an eyebrow. "A man then?" I asked lightly. "How very open minded of you."

Loki glared at me, but it could not keep is attention. Instead, his eyebrows knotted together and he turned back to the report he had been studying.

I walked forward slowly. There were two voices screaming inside me: one who, reminiscent of old days, wanted to reach out and touch him; maybe lay a supporting hand on his shoulder and ease his mind.
The other voice was much less friendly. It roared with jealousy at seeing him like this, worrying about decisions I ought to have made, shouldering the burden of a crown that should have been mine.

Since Thor had refused the throne and Loki was not our father's son, the line of succession should have fallen to me - and it would have, had Loki not murdered our father and usurped the throne.

"Can I be of assistance?" I asked.

He slammed the paper on the table to prevent me from seeing. "You know that you can't."

I made a show of shrugging like this did not bother me. "Another time, then."

Loki closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the shimmering green did not betray anything of the fatigue and exhaustion I knew he had to feel.
"Tell me where you are, Eirlys."

My lips tugged into a smile. "You know I can't."

His eyes searched my face. "If only I could touch you..."

It must have escaped him before he could think further on what he was saying, because the Loki I had met on my trips to Asgard so far had never made any acknowledgment of affection or desire, whether I could feel it or not.
He very rarely let me feel his emotions now and I sometimes felt almost numb because of it. When we had first connected, the sharing of emotions had been as natural as the sharing of magic. Sadly, it was not, anymore.

Right now, he allowed it and the curiosity that burned inside him also echoed inside me. The curiosity was not for me, though, but for knowledge - and power.
"How do you do it?" he asked. "How do you make your illusions solid?"

We had worked on that for years. Decades, even. It had always escaped us.
I cocked my head to the side. "We can trade secrets, if you like."

His face fell. "I'm not telling you how to break our connection."

"Then, I'm afraid, you won't learn how to make the illusions solid," I said. "And I certainly won't risk you pulling me over here."

Loki sneered at me again. "I'll find out on my own," he said.

"Likewise."

This was what we did best: fight. It could barely be otherwise; after all that had been said and done, it was a wonder that we could exchange two full civil sentences.
We only came together like this because after everything, we still could not bear to be away from each other for too long.

I wondered if Mother had foreseen something like this all those centuries ago, when she had forced us to study together. Had she known the bond she would create? Or was this connection we shared as unnatural as I had always feared it was?

A knock on the door interrupted my musings. Loki straightened immediately and I turned slightly to see if they entered without further notice. They did not.

"I should leave you to it," I said. I had not thought that someone would actually be coming.

Loki's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "You should know-"

My lips twitched. "That it doesn't mean anything?" I asked. "Don't worry, I know."

His eyebrows rose. It seemed he wanted to speak again, but another knock sounded from the door, this time more insistent. She had to be quite something if she dared be so insolent. Or maybe it was a man after all - who knew with Loki?

"You should get that," I said. "I'll see you soon."

With constant practice, it became easier and easier to send out and detract the illusions. What had once taken a lot of effort and could only be done under the right circumstances now felt like second nature.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I found myself back in my rooms in Vanaheim.

The change was profound: Asgard was, in all its ways, lavish and impressive. My rooms had been luxurious, door frames had been adorned with gold and the walls were covered in marble.
Vanaheim was different. Its palace was built into the woods; the ceilings were covered in leafs and one had to take care not to stumble over roots in the ground.

A small stream ran through my room and I had settled closed to it on the floor. When I returned to reality, I reached out and let my fingers glide into the water. A sigh of relief escaped me at the cool stream playing on my skin.

"Again?"

A gruff voice sounded from the door. It was Hogun, Thor's old comrade and member of the Warrior's Three. Even among his own people, at home and relaxed, he wore his armour religiously and his black hair was combed back strictly.

As Heimdall had predicted when he had sent me here, Freyr, the king of Vanaheim, had offered me shelter at once. Perhaps because Hogun had vouched for me or because they had not forgotten their relations to my late mother.
Ever since then, Hogun had taken to watching over me. It had not taken him long to figure out that I had not broken my ties as surely as I had claimed I did. If he had also figured out that Loki and I were more than brother and sister - if we were being very technical, Loki and I were not brother and sister at all - I could not tell. If he had, he did not betray any surprise or disgust.

"Perhaps," I said. I dried my fingers on the hem of my skirt and rose from the ground. "Any news from Asgard?"

Since Loki would not speak up, we had to rely on the gossip and diplomatic news that reached us in the conventional way. Hogun kept sending messages to his old friends - I usually spotted Sif's handwriting - but I had begged him not to tell them the truth. Knowing them, they would try to bring Loki down in open battle, which would never succeed and only cost us our informants.
Hogun's expression had not changed when I had brought forth all these arguments, but he seemed to agree - Sif still thought she was serving Odin.

"Not a lot," Hogun said. "Sif considers her king a little more erratic than usual, but blames it on the loss of his children and old age."

I quirked an eyebrow. "I wonder when he will reveal himself," I said. "He can't pretend to be our father forever."

King Freyr also thought that Odin was still alive; he just believed that the old man was going senile and tossing the Nine Realms into chaos. The story was formidably supported, because none of the usual payments had reached Vanaheim as of late.

"He better take some time," Hogun said. "We are not ready to face him."

I shrugged. First, because there was no 'we': there was only an 'I'. I was glad to take any help I could get, but in the end, this was on me. Second, because if there was one thing I had learned from my father, it was to always pretend that anything could be done.

Hogun folded his arms behind his back. It almost seemed like he wanted to say something else, but did not - which was no wonder, because Hogun never said anything if he could get around it.

"What about tonight?" I asked.

He turned when I walked past him and only answered when I started sorting the papers on my desk. "As always," Hogun said. "I would prefer you not go."

Indeed, he always warned me not to go to festivities. He warned that the niceties of the Vanir court were just that - only niceties to cover up their real intentions.
Which, in any case, was not very different from the Asgardian court.

"How am I to gather support if I don't socialise?" I asked lightly. Socialising was awful. "Besides, I promised Freyr and it's no good offending my host."

Hogun's jaw clenched, but he did not contradict me. I even raised an eyebrow to prompt him, but nothing came.
I shrugged again. If only he would tell me why he would prefer me not going - what was he afraid of? These half-warnings were not adequate counsel. I ached for a true conversation.

"Well then," I said and it came out more tight-lipped than I had expected. "I'll follow the invitation. You're free to go or not go, as you please."

He squared his shoulders. "I will be there."

In a way, Vanir feasts were very different from Asgardian feasts. Women were dressed in robes that would have merely considered light summer wear in Asgard, and certainly not ball gowns. Men came in their hunting gear. Thor and his friends would regularly go in their battle armour, too, but that was hardly comparable.
They also did not dance. Indeed, they let people dance for them. I personally did not think that it was very entertaining, but the Vanir clearly did.

On the other hand, they were exactly like Asgardian feasts. Everyone arrived, no one really wanted to be there and therefore everyone got terribly drunk.
Therefore, leaving a Vanir feast was a risky business - not every couple that had found itself in a drunk stupor could make it back to their room before they tore each others clothes off. Sometimes, they did not even find a secluded corner.

I had never liked feasts. They were too loud and too rash and too impersonal for my tastes and Vanir feasts were not any different in that regard.
At home, I used to go because my mother had asked me to. Here, I pretended to go because her nephew, the king, had asked me to and really went because I hoped for useful connections.

Freyr insisted on escorting me in every time and also insisted on me taking a place by his side. I always accepted as graciously as I could, but secretly wondered when he would tire of me - would the novelty not wear off? Should it not have by now?
Every time, various noblemen introduced themselves to me. I did not mind it as such - I would need them eventually if I wanted to go to war. After all, I would need soldiers, weapons and not to mention money that I did not have myself. Or rather, that I could not access.

I tried to be as charming as I could, tried to smile and laugh and listen as attentively as possible - which was not always easy, because being born a nobleman did not mean that one was born smart or witty. Rather, they told me the same stories about their estates or their treasures or their famous friends and their wives; I bore it with all the patience I could muster, which was a lot more than I had originally thought possible.
The only question that remained was when I would finally break.


I'm sure glad I'm back on this story. Please feel free to leave me a review if you can spare the time - it'd make me very happy :)