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Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin or any other characters in this story. This fanfic is done for the love of trickster deities, and I do not make money from it.


+++ Chapter 2: Shape-shifters' rendezvous+++

The reception was but a prelude to the celebration that was to come. Still, Asgard's great hall Wingolf was full of guests, food, mead, music, voices, laughter and merriment.

Thor was right in the middle of it, a dazzling hero and perfect host, who talked, joked, received compliments and drank to the health of each and every one within sight who would raise their own goblet to him in return.

One step behind, and a little to his right, always, was his brother. While Odin's fair-haired heir was there for the party, his second-born was there on a secret mission of his own: Loki talked to get information, his joked to evoke trust, and he only ever made compliments in order to observe how they were received. Loki never encouraged flattery for his own person, and he seldom got praise that he did not have to share with his brother like in "Sure, Thor is an exceptional fighter, but I hear you've found your field of experience in the arts of magic? Probably a good thing, the two of you not being competitors in their craft, eh?".

It worked for him. It was well.

Each to their own tasks and responsibility.

Take the dwarves, for instance: Seated at a long table, the bearded little men drank and sang and told tales of great adventures, battles and fortunes of gold hidden beneath the mountains of their realm. Every now and then, one of them would start a fight over the "real" size of an army his uncle's uncle had conquered or the number of heads the slaughtered dragon had had. But if the troublemaker moved to attack, his chair would mysteriously step aside and throw him off. Or his ale would sizzle up in the mug and splash his face. The thus chastised dwarf would then stomp his feet and cry to the heavens for a chance to whet his blade on the throat of the blasted trickster who surely was to blame for this misfortune.

But since the trickster in question did not step forward to face his punishment, the laughter died down, and soon the merry singing and tale-telling would start anew.

The little folk of the mountains had drawn quite a crowd of listeners, warriors mainly, but also a couple of valkyres and even two of the norns. The Goddesses of Fate usually kept to themselves, but tonight they sat with the delegation from Wanaheim, a group of philosophers that occupied a round table in the far corner. In passing them by, Loki had found them disputing the inevitability and ineffability of life. The topic was an interesting one, and he would have liked to join their circle on the spot. But there was trouble brewing in another corner: The Fairy Folk entered the scene.

The ambassadors of this legendary magical people seemed to exist in their own reality which they carried about their own persons like another layer of garments. Everything about them seemed white and illuminated with magical light from within, their hair, their wide tunics, even the skin of their faces. Their feet, although clad in boots of white leather, always seemed to float a finger's breadth above the floor.

It was an illusion, of course. There was, in truth, nothing ethereal about a Fairy, especially not when it came to temper.

Seeing the Jotun delegation seated in a less frequented corner nearly sent the Fairies into a collective fit of dropping the pretense. If someone felt greater and more profound hostility toward the frost giants than the people of Asgard, it sure was the fair folk of Fairy.

Loki alerted his brother with a soft clucking of his tongue and a prodding elbow to Thor's arm. Thor looked up, but the gesture had caught the attention of the harpy he'd been talking to.

'Look, look,' it said with its raspy, excited voice like a cackling hen. 'That reeks of trouble.'

Its sisters immediately perked up their idiomatic ears.

Loki gave the three creatures a disdainful look. "Bird-like heralds of the truth", a skald had once euphorically described them. In fact, they resembled nothing so much like oversized, well-fed turkeys. Their bodies were bulky and covered with dark feathers. They avoided standing up for extended periods of time, finding it uncomfortable to balance their weight on those thin scaly legs that ended in bird-like feet. On their skinny necks there sat small heads, and their faces were those of very old women: sagging cheeks, parch-like skin and hollow, wrinkled mouths.

They usually used those mouths to spread gossip and comment on the things they watched with their pearly, mouse-like eyes.

'Fairys are arrogant,' the first harpy stated.

'Jotuns don't know how to behave themselves,' supplied the second and ruffled the feathers on its clumsy body.

'It won't do, inviting them to the same party,' said the third, stuffing another ripe grape in its mouth and chewing with relish. 'Oh, we are doomed, sisters. I knew before we came here: There will be trouble.'

'She may have a point about trouble brewing, brother,' murmured Thor.

Loki watched the Fairy Folk glide over to the Jotuns' table. The delegation from the winter realm had taken on Asgardian form and attire, down to the blond tresses and stylish garments of the Lady Angrboda and her maid. Loki knew by now that their mode of appearance had been a request – rather a condition – on Asgard's part. Diplomaticy aside, Odin's advisors had convinced the king that too many people would feel provoked by Jotuns joining the celebration in their true blue-skinned forms.

Still, Loki found himself wondering how the lady would look like in her own realm...

'Woolgathering, brother?' rumbled Thor in a low voice. He held the Mjolnir ready. Loki made a little gesture with his hand: Leave it to me.

The leader of the fairies started to speak.

A sound like bird's song came from his mouth.

The sound didn't carry to the two princes. But Thor knew his brother well enough to have a good idea of what was going on, when he saw the fairy shut his mouth, confused. The Jotuns stared, no less surprised. So did the fairy's company.

Beside Thor, Loki kept his eyes levelly on the shining figure. Again, he moved his fingers.

The fairy tried to speak.

This time, his voice sounded like a cat meowing. Thor, listening really hard, caught the sound and laughed out loud. Pleased with his brother's reaction and therefore with himself, Loki allowed the finest of smiles to show on his own lips.

Across the room, the Lady Angrboda leaned forward and folded her hands on the table in front of her. When the fairy made another attempt to address her, he gave a series of ee-yores like a panicked donkey. This time, he was very loud.

All over Wingolf, conversations stopped. Heads turned, people stared, then they started to laugh.

Some of them – Sif, Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg – instantly searched for and looked at Loki.

'Boys should not be taught wizardry,' said one harpy to its sisters.

A unit of Asgardian guards, dressed as servants but acting with their usual efficiency, arrived at the Jotuns' table. The leader of fairy continued to scream his protest, even as he and his comrades were first politely asked to proceed, then more or less escorted to another area of the vast hall.

'Giving him the voice of a she-ass in season.' Thor scratched his head, 'That may have been overdoing things a little, brother.'

'But – that wasn't I,' Loki protested. He was still reeling from the vicious backlash of magic that hit him as the Jotun put her own spell on top of his.

'Are you all right, brother?' Thor frowned. 'Maybe you should sit for a moment.'

'I'll be fine,' snapped Loki, shaking off his brother's hand. The Jotun lady had stood up and started to stroll away from the table, as if she needed some time to herself in order to cool down. It was uncommon that she should not be accompanied by her maid. But within the great hall of Asgard, meeting place for guests from so many realms, it was not reason for stirring a commotion, either.

'Trouble,' said the third harpy, happily chewing on a whole mouthful of juicy grapes. 'With or without magic. Boys are nothing but trouble from the moment they hatch.'

'Mind your speech, ladies,' grumbled Thor, gladly accepting the opportunity to defend his little brother when Loki himself refused to be taken care of.

'From the moment they are born,' another harpy corrected.

'Of course, sister,' insisted the feathery hag with malice. 'But my point is: Just imagine the trouble they cause when they fall in love.'

'Love?' said Thor, listening up. 'Who's falling in love?'

But his faithful shadow did not respond. Loki had slipped away from his brother's side and was lost in the crowd.


They drifted together, irresistably, purposefully - and still surprised suddenly to find themselves face-to-face. As the crowd parted to reveal the Lady Angrboda standing right in front of him, Loki felt a tingling shock like electricity run through his body. He turned the impulse into a polite bow.

'Greetings, lady,' he said. Thank goodness. For one moment, he'd been afraid his legendary silver tongue would fail him.

'Light's eye,' she mumbled as her eyes followed the impressively curved horns on his helmet. It was, Loki remembered almost mechanically, the Jotun expression for "sun".

In order to avoid an embarrassing pause, he said, 'We already met at your arrival. Yet, it seems we have not been properly introduced.' Yes, that was it. Speaking and hearing himself do it, made him feel confident again. Loki waved his cape artfully and straightened up from his bow. 'I am Loki. Loki Odinson. Prince of Asgard.'

'I gathered as much,' Angrboda said. She, too, was regaining her bearing. 'I am Angrboda of Jotunheim,' she paused meaningfully, then continued in a half-whisper, 'and I have a special talent for illusionary magic.'

'Your imitation of an Asgardian noble woman is quite perfect,' he assured her as quickly as truthfully .

She lowered her voice even more, 'Actually, I was talking about you.'

He was slightly puzzled, 'The gala armor, you mean? No, actually that's real.'

'Must be heavy, then. Especially the helmet.' She moved as if to touch one of the horns, and bringing her mouth close to his ear, whispered, 'What did you do to him?'

'To whom?'

'The real – ' The Jotun stopped and regarded him with that same inquisitive look that she'd given him on the Bifrost.

'Excuse me', she said coolly and much in the way of someone who has cordially greeted a stranger and realizes their mistake. 'I thought I heard you saying you're Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard. That's what you said, didn't you?'

A problem with the Asgardian language, no more. Of course. He should've anticipated that.

'Well, the King of Asgard is my father, I wear the princely armor, I look at the prince's face in the mirror, and - ' Loki turned and made a great gesture that encompassed the crowd, 'I don't see anyone else to fit the bill.' He turned back to her to give her his best winning smile.

The Jotun stood before him in an exact copy of his gala armor of green and gold. A floor-length green cape that was identical to his own flowed from her shoulders. On her head sat a helmet with long, curved horns.

Loki's smile froze.

She held up her right arm and examined the sleeve, as if she didn't notice his reaction. 'Anyone can do that armor,' she stated by way of observation. 'It's pretty simple, actually.'

'What?' breathed Loki.

'Face in the mirror?' she went on, raising her voice again. 'I don't give a damn about appearances. Pale skin, green eyes? Do you think I usually look like that?'

'You look like a copy of myself.' His voice sounded weak in his own ears.

'Only female,' she said.

'Only female,' he agreed, too numbed to think of much else to say.

She probed the horns with her hand, 'I'm quite good at shape-shifting. Would you like me to try the male version?'

'NO! I – I mean, I'd rather you changed back altogether.' Loki's gaze darted to the left and right to check if anyone had noticed the little scene. He looked at what seemed like a sea of curious, amused faces. After what happened to the dwarves and the fairy, everyone was waiting for more cheerful entertainment to happen. A chill passed down Loki spine, and suddenly he felt very exposed. What was he doing here, anyway? His place, he remembered almost ruefully, was in his brother's larger-than-life shadow. Where no one paid attention to Odin Allfather's second-born, while he, Loki, could watch, assess, learn all the secret things that real power was founded on...

Angrboda laughed softly. She was obviously enjoying herself immensely. Part of him could sympathize. It was the kind of mischief he might have pulled off, after all.

Only this time Loki found himself at the wrong end of the joke.

Urgently, he said, 'People are staring at us. You must change back instantly.'

'To what?' The Jotun was relentless. 'The illusion of an Asgardian lady?'

The chill in Loki's bones turned into downright freezing cold when he saw Odin stare over at them. And now, the king even leaned forward on his scepter, his left elbow on his knee, the better to observe – and (Loki realized) to let his son know that he was observing him.

'Please,' Loki pleaded softly. 'My father is watching.'

'Of course he is,' Angrboda said. 'I'm of the enemy. He can't approve of us talking.' But she, too, seemed to think that this practical joke had gone far enough. As Loki looked on, she transformed back into the image of a noble woman clad in linen, silk and lots of fashionable cleavage. With each piece of armor that she got rid of, Loki felt himself regain familiar territory.

'The king has officially welcomed you to Asgard,' he pointed out as soon as the more pressing danger seemed over. 'He thinks your visit might create new trust, even found a treaty of peace between our kingdoms. How could this be achieved, if not through words?'

'How? Are you asking in earnest?' She shot him a mocking look from her moss green eyes, 'Sweet innocence. Well, I'm sure the king is a little more imaginative and has an idea or two.'

'What ideas?'

'Well, maybe he's afraid we'd defy protocol and decide to sink the icicle before he's got his own pieces in place,' she said defiantly, and this time her eyes actually seemed to reflect some of their natural red color.

Loki choked, 'Sink the - what?'

Now, it was Angrboda's turn to believe in a language barrier. She stopped in her occupation of checking her hair-do.

'Water the glacier?' she prompted. 'Hop it like snow bunnies?'

'Snow bunnies?!' Loki was as far from a smug smile as it was possible for him to be.

'Horny little creatures,' Angrboda mumbled. She paused, then shook her head lightly and busied herself with her dress.

Loki stared at her smoothing the ruffles on her cleavage. With the part of his mind that was not absorbed with the insights her dress granted, he thought that this conversation was totally off the leash.

'Brother,' said Thor. 'Will you do me the honor and introduce me to this... lovely lady?'

Loki started, as if his brother had nudged him awake. Thor instantly felt a little worried. Loki usually was not easily sneaked up on. The Jotun in their company smiled knowingly.

'Lady Angrboda!' Sif pushed through the throng toward them.

'Ah. My brother - Lady Sif.' Loki's voice was dangerously close to betraying his relief. 'Please meet the Lady Angrboda. We had just engaged in a discussion about improving political relations between Asgard and - '

'Aye, that's exactly what it looked like,' said Thor.

'Lady – my prince Thor – prince Loki.' Sif had not come for idle chatter. She greeted the Jotun formally with her fist to her shoulder, then paid Loki and Thor her respect with the same gesture. They were close friends at all other times, but this was an official occasion and demanded for protocol to be heeded. 'I apologize for intruding on your conversation. The Queen has asked for the Lady Angrboda to join her at the royal table.'

She braced herself, expecting Loki to protest, if only to show off in front of the girl that he so obviously had an eye on. But to Sif's surprise the enigmatic young man was compliant almost to the point of telling the Jotun princess to bugger off: 'If the Queen of Asgard asks for your presence it would be extremely unbecoming to make her wait, lady,' he said.

The Lady Angrboda offered Loki the back of her hand, 'It was an inspiring conversation, Prince Loki. I hope we'll find opportunity to resume.'

Loki placed his protocol kiss a good three inches above her hand. 'This is Asgard. I am afraid there are no icicles to water in this realm.'

Angrboda's smile might have counted for an imprudent grin. She offered her hand to Thor, who merely bowed curtly to her.

'If you will follow me, Lady Angrboda.' Sif started to steer the Jotun away. She looked over her shoulder to cast Loki a questioning look and mouthed, "Icicles?".

Loki watched them disappear among the crowd.

'What got into you, brother,' said Thor beside him. 'What was the meaning of this... strange deportment? It is very unlike you to draw the attention of the entire court to yourself.'

'The 'strange deportment', as you call it, was unsolicited and a mere side-effect,' murmured Loki. 'The lady simply put it in her head to demonstrate her proficiency in the art of shape-shifting.'

'The lady is Jotun, brother. Be mindful of your steps. You know they cannot be trusted.'

'You are right, of course.' In spite of his assent, Loki continued to stare at where the two women had disappeared in the crowd.

'So the lady thinks you two should resume your conversation.' Thor said, when his brother did not go on. 'What will you do about it?'

'Do?' Loki took a deep breath. 'Yes. I guess I need to do something about it.'

Return to his room. Consult his books and find out about Jotun rituals and magical powers.

Because something was wrong here, terribly wrong!

Because picturing a frost giant so intensely in her true, blue-skinned form and naked could probably get a son of Odin convicted for high treason, and feeling a curiosity to touch her cold skin with a desire so sudden and passionate it almost caused him physical pain was absolutely unacceptable.

'Loki?' his brother's voice asked.

Loki was not driven by whims and lusts, never, ever. It happened to Thor. It could not possibly happen to him.

He would not allow it to happen!

Thor was surprised when he brother turned his back and started to walk away. 'Loki? Where are you going?'

'Working all this magic has exhausted me, brother. I will return to me room. Please, excuse me.'

Thor nodded. He had seen Loki come unglued with fatigue from his magical exertions before. This explanation, he could accept. 'Of course, brother. You just get some rest. I assume I'll still be here when you return – '

Thor said some more, but Loki did not process the meaning of the words.

Back to his books!

He did not feel tired, and his claim to the contrary had been a clear lie. One of the many lies he told to his gullible brother in order to be able to go after his own goals and mind his own business.

This time, the business seemed a grave one, indeed.

Loki had to know... he had to find out.

Was he cursed?

+++End of Chapter 2+++