Late August 2014
Unlocking the door, Hermione walked into her flat, her sight immediately picking up a figure facing the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. The figure had pushed back the blinds and was peering out upon the city, his hands locked behind his back. She sighed heavily, flicking on the lights and placing her keys on the small table beside her. She closed the door and said to Loki, "Not only does your faulty leash need to be replaced, but it should be shortened, as well. Significantly."
"This is where you live?" he said, seeing fit as to turn and face her. "I took the liberty of having a gander in your absence. For a witch, you live rather...mundane is the word I'm looking for."
Hermione folded her arms, her thumb skimming over the naked skin of her ring finger out of habit. "What are you doing here, Loki?"
His smile stretched wide and for that single moment, she could see through the front he generously painted himself with. Obviously, he came to her flat to see her, but not for forgiveness. On the contrary, Loki wanted her to understand his reasoning behind his actions without verbalizing a single word. He wanted to go back to the night of the wedding and every night following, up until she left.
Staring at him for a long while, a part of her wanted to be closer to him. As pathetic as it was, she had missed him. An entire sitting room separated them. The other part of her instructed her stay by the door. She compromised and walked until she was a few feet away from the sofa. Only a piece of furniture between them now, but it was enough for her. What she wanted to ask him held more gravity this way.
"Have you ever even been in love?" She hadn't meant for her inquiry to sound so patronizing. She had no desire to mock him at the moment. Her question stemmed from genuine curiosity with a hint of exhaustion from trying to figure out the hidden traits of his personality he kept so well hidden. From what she understood of him, if he had loved, it wasn't pure. It was warped. Everything he could love he also hated.
"No."
He was lying.
Badly.
On purpose.
She expected her question to provoke anger, malicious sarcasm, or even a freezer burnt laugh. Instead, he simply denied it whilst he inspected her parents' entertainment system.
Now she was the one angry. She licked her teeth and glared at the carpet, shaking her head. A frustrated chuckle tore from her throat. "Did you figure it out before or after I left Asgard?"
A few beats passed before he spoke; his tone sharp, annoyed, and entitled. "I wanted you the moment I saw you." He stole a few steps towards her. "Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to, Hermione. It's beneath you, and a waste of both our time. I know what you want me to say. You want the reason why I forced you to drink that tea. You want an apology. You'll never hear them."
"I deserve to know something."
"Know you can now bear children. Know your preciously incompetent cousin will never be without you. Know that I want you still, even in the face of your unforgiving ire." He disappeared from view and reappeared in front of her. She gasped lightly in surprise and tried to back away, but he held her shoulders to keep her still. "Do you loathe me now, Hermione?"
Reaching for the hands resting on her shoulders, she curled her fingers around them and looked up at him. "Could you blame me if I did?"
When he didn't reply, she said, "I want to. I should."
"You don't?" His eyebrows arched.
"What you did to me was unforgivable, Loki, but it's not the worst thing I've been on the receiving end of. It is the worst thing I've been on the receiving end of by someone who claims to want me. The last man, he destroyed my marriage. You, my life. "
"You're being dramatic. Is immortality truly so horrendous to you?"
"It's unnatural. No one is meant to live forever."
Her hands fell from his, and she went to step away from him, but he caught her at the waist. She shot him an irritated look as if to ask 'What could you possibly want now?'
"You can be angry with me for as long as you like, my dearest. That will not change what's been done. There is no reversal unless you honestly wish to die. Like you said, no one is meant to live forever. I'm fairly certain," he brushed his thumb above her clavicle, "if your pretty head was removed from the rest of your lovely self, you'd be given the demise you so crave."
He dipped his head low and brushed kisses where his thumb had caressed, as if to let her know it would not be him who'd stoop to such brutality. Into her skin, he whispered, "Despite your fury, have you missed me?"
"No."
He chuckled breathily, and his hands traveled up her back, one resting between her shoulder blades and the other cradling the back of her neck. His mouth ghosted over hers. "Are you sure?"
She cupped his face, her the heel of her hands resting in front of his ears to better to keep him on his side of the very thin, nearly nonexistent line. "How's Jane?" she asked.
As expected, the mention of her cousin had him rolling his eyes. He let go of her, and she took advantage of the separation and went to the kitchen, turning on the light and opening the fridge. She debated the wine over a bit ouzo but thought better of it, grabbing a bottle of water instead.
"You're more of a queen than she is," Loki said.
"Your highest compliments of me seem to always be at my cousin's expense. I don't appreciate it."
"Each one of them are true."
"No. You're biased because you've seen me naked." She sipped at her water and set the bottle down on the counter. She licked the drops from her lips and eyed him carefully. She rested her hand on the surface of the counter drummed her fingers. "I'm going to be in Asgard in three days. Why visit me now?"
Loki's gaze hardened, his spine stiffening. "There is unrest in Jotunheim. A civil war. They are not Asgard's finest allies. Since The Convergence, they've softened somewhat and asked for assistance in dismantling the rebels. At first, the council and I advised Thor in sending our infantry. They will not return, and my brother refuses to send in more warriors if he cannot lead them in battle."
Hermione's drumming fingers curled into a fist. "And you're going."
"We depart in the morning."
Putting her back to him, she looked down at her feet and then began to pace. "Jane hasn't told me much, but I do know you and Jotunheim are not allies. I doubt Thor asked you to join him. If not for that reason, then for political ones. If both of you were to fall in battle, then what of the throne? Asgard yields to Jane because the king demands it. Without him or you-"
"Their heir-"
"Isn't even born yet," Hermione interjected. "And God knows how long it will take for the baby to grow up."
"The responsibility will fall to the council-if Jane so wishes-until the heir comes of age."
Shaking her head and refusing to face him, Hermione scoffed. "Why are you really going, Loki? You can't possibly be all right with any of this. Or even care about Jotunheim, a realm you tried to destroy."
"You're worried." He sounded amused.
"Don't evade the question."
"I'll do as I please."
Clenching her teeth, Hermione folded her arms and glared at him. She walked by him and down the hallways. "I think I know why you're here. I have to shower."
When she reached her bedroom, she glanced over her shoulder and snapped, "Are you coming?"
Loki rolled off of Hermione, she moved with him, molding her front to his. She grazed chaste kisses along his sternum before resting her chin there. Her eyes closed for a moment, letting herself feel his heartbeat drum fast with hers. She absorbed the setting, memorizing each and every detail—the slight coolness to his skin, the entanglement of their legs, the tingling and puffiness of her lips, the pleasant ache of her legs and womb, the way her mind rushed with a million uncontrollable thoughts.
God, she damned near hated him.
She couldn't get enough of him.
"Are you thinking of your husband?" he drawled.
"I don't have one," she said, peeling her eyes open and frowning. "You were right when you said I wouldn't be returning to you."
His eyes widened, surprised by the meaning of her words. He repeated what he had said earlier, sounding more amused than before. "You're worried."
"I don't wish you harm…no matter your shortcomings."
Long fingers wrapping themselves into her hair, he coaxed her head upwards to brush his lip against her forehead, and she hid her scowling mouth into his throat. "I've battled in far worse circumstances, Hermione."
"Then why did you come? If it was a mere ruffling of feathers between two parties, then why see me?"
"Is it not customary for a warrior to seek comfort from his companion the night before leaving for the battlegrounds?" He maneuvered her so her head was tucked underneath his chin, and she was now flush against his side. His hands skimmed the rigidness of her spine and arms, and he exhaled softly, annoyed. "Woman, you can't be upset with me for forcing you to partake of an Apple of Iðunn and defending Asgard's allies in their time of need. It's either one or the other."
"I'll do as I please."
He groped her bum roughly for her impudence, and then asked, "Have you given any thought in bearing a child?"
"Not in the last five years, no."
"Now that you can, I meant."
Hermione shook her head. "I know what you meant and no. It's not the right time."
"I suppose childbearing can be more inconvenient in certain times than in others."
The need to snort was almost too much to bear, yet Hermione managed. She did shoot him a bemused glance and thought of all the things (not children-not really) mythology accused him of birthing. He had no idea how taxing hosting a developing fetus could be. Bloody hell, even attempting to get pregnant could be tiring and burdensome. Hermione reflected back to the time before she discovered herself to be infertile. Sometimes, she and Ron just really weren't feeling up to another round of romping. Not only was it exhausting but desensitizing and had begun to lose its specialness.
And then there were rarities like Jane who became impregnated whilst on the pill after an uncomfortable go at it in her late mum's old car.
"What about you? You're, like, ancient. Ever thought about retiring from an isolating life of self-absorption and world domination, settling down to marry and having a litter of your own?" asked Hermione.
"I'm about to go off to war," he said and then added, deadpanned, "tomorrow."
"After. You don't really think you're going to die out there, do you?"
"You're the one who's worried."
"I never said that."
"It's painfully obvious."
It was Hermione's turn to glare. "Like I said, I don't wish you harm. I don't actually think you'll die. You're too…"
"Yes?" He smirked arrogantly.
"You're the kind of man who manages," she said, slitting her eyes. "I've met men like you. The kind who can slither their way out of any difficult situation. You plan accordingly and if that fails, you improvise. You coerce the environment to your desires and if that doesn't work, then you adapt. Your own personal endeavors may not be successful, but your survival instincts are brilliantly so. I've encountered many who would call a person like that cowardly, but it's a skill—a talent—not many acquire in their life. You're not going to die, Loki. At least not on a battlefield. It's not in your nature. You're not the warrior but the weapon. I suppose…I can see now why Thor wants you by his side."
For a long while, he stared at her, his expression unreadable. She quirked her lips in a half-smile. "That's how you pay a compliment, Loki."
He still said nothing and soon her stomach grumbled. She got up from the bed but before she could get too far, he grabbed her wrist and said, "What if you're wrong?"
There was the the slightest amount doubt in his eyes. She knew underneath his haughtiness and pride lived a self-loathing, insecure little boy. Nevertheless, it was the first time he voluntarily showed her that part of him.
Hermione wasn't going to comfort him. She already gave him an undeserving commendation. The last thing she wanted was to sing him praise only months after he cursed her. For God's sake, she had allowed him a rather spectacular sendoff that would keep him warm while in Jotunheim. There would be no more of stroking his ego.
"I don't take kindly to being wrong," she said lowly, her tone almost dangerous and wrenched her wrist from his hold. She slipped on a robe and stalked out of the room and into the kitchen, making herself something to eat. When she returned to her bedroom, he was gone.
It was as if Jane's baby was waiting for Hermione to arrive before even bothering to cause a scene. The night Hermione returned to Asgard a knock on her door, roused her from sleep. Hermione threw on a dark blue, flowing robe and rushed to the infirmary, the pained cries of her cousin growing louder with each step. When Hermione entered, Jane lay on a cot with an assistant holding each of her bared, spread legs back.
Daphne's arrival was rushed. The newborn wasted no time after her mother's first contraction to greet her kingdom. Long before dawn, her wails echoed off the walls of the infirmary, and Eir placed a freshly washed and swaddled baby girl in Jane's eagerly awaiting arms, the child's cries then turned pitiful and yearning. Tears of joy streamed down Jane's flushed, sweaty face. Hermione sat down in the seat beside the cot and rested, her body slackening. She rubbed the side of her face and she glanced sideways, smirking tiredly at Jane. Hermione might as well have been invisible as Jane gazed, mesmerized, at her daughter while breastfeeding.
"You can go back to your room," Jane said eventually, biting her lip.
"I didn't repeat that ghastly version of 'Beam me up, Scottie,' to go back to my room, Jane," Hermione said, yawning despite herself. "I may doze off, but I'll be right here."
Smiling gratefully, Jane asked, "Do you want to hold her?"
Hermione carefully took the baby from Jane and sat back down, securing the cream-colored blanket tighter around the sleeping little girl. Regardless of the child's youth, Hermione reckoned the future queen of Asgard would look a great deal like her mother but have her father's coloring.
"You're a lovely one, aren't you?" Hermione whispered, skimming a finger over the baby's, pink and vein-y features.
"She's perfect," her cousin murmured, exhausted. She then laughed breathlessly, shaking her head. "I'm not doing this again."
"You don't want a little boy who looks exactly like his daddy?" Hermione pouted playfully. "He'd be so cute."
"The Christakos line hasn't seen a boy in generations. With my luck, I do this again and get twin girls for being cheeky."
Laughing, Hermione snuggled Daphne closer and brushed a kiss against her forehead, inhaling her intoxicating baby scent.
Okay.
She wanted this.
Badly.
Very badly.
"I know that look," Jane said.
"Hm?"
Given her cousin's weakened state, Hermione was impressed she could waggle her eyebrows so enthusiastically.
"You want one."
"Well, they are kind of fun, aren't they?"
"You should have one."
Opening her mouth, about to respond, Hermione quickly closed it. Guilt pricked her when realizing how very little Jane knew about her. Her cousin knew the adorable tidbits like her favorite ice cream, foods, movies, and books; but she didn't know about Hermione being a witch or once being infertile. She didn't know about her relationship with Loki or the real reason why Hermione and Ron's marriage failed. Jane knew nothing of Hogwarts nor of Hermione's real employment history.
One day Hermione would tell her cousin everything.
Clearing her throat, Hemrione finally said, "Do you think that quaint shop just outside the palace grounds is having a sale on them? I'd get one for each arm. They'd go fantastically with my new pair of cotton-candy pink Jimmy Choos."
"Oh, my God. Cotton-candy pink? Can I try them on?"
"What if I let you, and I never see them again? It will be like the blue Elsa's I let you borrow on your wedding day. You expected me to believe your chamber maid stole them."
"She did."
"Uh huh."
Two hundred warriors had marched into Jotunheim and forty-eight returned. One month following the birth of Daphne, Asgard's king and his significantly reduced army came home. A welcoming parade, meant to lift the spirits of the people, did little to shift the somber mood. Many mourned the one hundred and fifty-two who had fallen, and the three Jotunns bound and dragged from their home-world did little in softening the blow.
Loki was nowhere to be seen.
The parade and the people dispersed, and Jane welcomed her husband and the warriors home. Hermione retreated back to the palace and excused the caregiver Aili, taking a fussy Daphne into her arms, soothing her by humming a near-forgotten lullaby from her own childhood. Daphne quieted, and Hermione stared down at her half-lidded, tired eyes.
A while after Daphne succumbed to sleep and Hermione placed her in her bassinet, it became difficult for Hermione to think of anything but Loki's absence in the parade. He could've simply not wanted to participate and left the side of his king to come directly to the castle. She knew better, though. He would've come to her by now and from the aggrieved expression on Thor's face, the remnants of his army was not the only thing upsetting him.
Almost two hours after Hermione tended to Daphne, Jane finally entered the room and Thor followed behind. Ducking her head, Hermione left their master chambers and went to the library where she remained for another hour, leafing through tomes on the depth of Aesir magic. She pulled away from them when several members of the council passed by the library. Putting some distance between herself and the councilmen, she lagged behind them. Their cluster grew when several other members joined them as they drew closer to what Hermione called the conference room.
Slowing her steps, Hermione darted behind the closest column as the room filled. She slipped her hand inside the pouch tied low on her hips and touched her wand, silently casting several undetectable charms on herself before walking into the room behind Thor and Jane who were the last to arrive. He appeared only marginally better.
Mmm. Better wasn't the right word.
Hopeful. He appeared hopeful.
Meeting his newborn daughter and returning to his queen must've done him a little bit of good.
Pressing herself against the wall closest to the door, Hermione watched as the council members took their seat at the table, Thor being at the head of it. On his left, a seat remained empty and on his right, Jane sat beside him looking both solemn and uncomfortable. She positioned her head slightly dipped, her focus on the table, telling everyone in the room she would not be providing her two shillings. Hermione didn't fault her cousin for it. The game was archaic but worked well; a woman had more influence over her husband's decisions in their private quarters than with an audience. Jane had already said her piece to Thor before the meeting and would undoubtedly say more following it.
The moment every council member was seat, Thor stood from his chair and said, "Prince Loki is not dead despite what you mutter amongst yourselves. He, as well as six others, were captured by the rebels a fortnight ago. When our allies won, I met with Jotunheim's new appointed queen and discovered the rebel leader slaughtered the six and imprisoned Loki. The fallen union handed him over to Queen Skaði, and she refuses to release him due to his actions against their realm three years ago."
Murmuring broke out and the volume escalated quickly. Many of them spoke of how Loki was fine where he was. Others were merely irked that Queen Skaði refused to hand over Loki after sacrificing so many warriors to help her gain a title.
"Silence!" Thor bellowed, bracing himself against the table. "The queen's refusal nearly sparked another battle. Our army was able to capture her two sons. They are in the dungeons as we speak. I intend a prisoner exchange."
"Your highness," a strong yet, grey haired woman spoke, "we made peace with Jotunheim after The Convergence. It's in writing. They became our allies, and our soldiers died for it. Clearly, the new queen wants a war."
Another council member, this one a man and younger, spoke, "They don't want another war. What they want is Loki to pay for his crimes against them. Under his brief time as king, did he not release the full power of the Bi-frost onto their realm? Did he not lure its past king into Asgard with lies in order to kill him? This kingdom was at peace with Jotunheim long before The Convergence but ended because of Prince Loki's misdeeds against them."
"You wish to leave him there," another council member replied, an elderly man.
"They want justice. Is it wrong to deny them such? My king," the younger man said to Thor, "I suggest you go through with the exchange. Instead of asking the queen for our prince, ask her on behalf of him for a fair trial."
Another wave of muttering swept throughout the room which ceased when two guards burst inside, one of them saying, "My king, the Princes of Jotunheim are dead. They killed themselves in their cells."
Silence deafened the room, and Thor rushed out into the corridors with the guards running behind him. Jane leaned further back into her chair and sighed heavily. Hermione could read her thoughts without even bothering to use magic.
My husband's home, but not really.
"My queen," said a council member, this one a young looking woman, "What do you suggest?"
The woman's tone was almost mocking, tinted lightly by humor. Jane merely stared at her as if she were looking at the council woman's chair rather than her. Uninterested and uncaring. The woman was part of the pretty décor of the room and nothing more.
When Jane managed to speak up, she asked softly, "Who are you again?"
Hermione cracked a smile despite the void hallowing her insides. Though Jane struggled with the absence of Thor, she hardened in the face of the court and council by blatantly ignoring their prattle concerning her incompetence and by taking up a passive-aggressive front.
Thor soon returned to dismiss the council, and Hermione kept her pace behind him and Jane as they shuffled from corridor to corridor.
"What are you going to do?" Jane asked, once she and Thor were out of earshot from others.
"I know what I want to do," Thor replied, grim. He then exhaled sharply and shook his head. "And I can't. None of them were concerned of Loki. They're thinking political. I-"
"It's personal. I know." Jane stopped when they reached a smaller corridor and took Thor's hand in hers.
"What if he's suffering? These pathways the council offer take time. Loki may not have that. He may be dead for all I know. The princes killed each other in their cells because they knew of my purpose for them. They wanted my brother exactly where he is. I cannot retrieve him unless I use force." Thor's frowned deepened as he peered out the window several feet away from them. "Maybe…there's something else I can give. An offer they couldn't refuse."
Jane stepped closer to him, a wrinkled worrying her brow. "What do you have in mind?"
"The Casket of Ancient Winters."
"No, no, no," Hermione whispered, chastising, and willed her cousin have the same reaction.
Jane shook her head and grasped his other hand. "If the exchange goes south, they could have Loki and the Casket."
Annoyed, Thor sharply asked, "What would you have me do? Allow my brother to remain on Jotunheim until everyone on the council agrees on a single notion?"
"I don't know what to do, Thor. I'm even more clueless. What I do know is that the Casket is a very bad move." Jane rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry, but we'll figure something out. I have to feed Daphne. I'll see you at dinner tonight."
The moment Hermione could no longer hear Jane's footsteps, she saw Thor's spine stiffen, and he said, "When we first met, I could have sworn I detected Midgardian magic on you. I thought it a fluke, but I know better now. You've hidden long enough, Lady Hermione. Reveal yourself."
Hermione paused and then touched her wand, removing the charms coating her from eyesight and earshot. Thor's gaze hardened once he could see her, and he said, "Do you always render yourself invisible in such delicate matters that don't concern you?"
"Not always." She stepped closer to him and lifted her chin. "I can help you."
"I don't want your help, witch. I'm not even sure I want you on Asgard anymore."
"I can save your brother."
Thor clenched his fists, saying nothing. Hermione chanced another step closer and said, "You don't like politics. They take time. I understand. And war? It's a messy art, and you're not quite ready to forfeit more paint. Your leverage is gone. You know a rescue mission is your brother's best chance."
"You suggest I gather a party of warriors."
"No. I said I can save your brother."
"You?" He chuckled mirthlessly. "You want me to put Loki's life in the hands of my wife's cousin? You think you can withstand Jotunheim with your tricks? Loki has magic more powerful than your own, and he was still captured. I'd rather send my most trusted."
"Forgive me, Thor. Lady Sif and The Warriors Three don't care about your brother."
"And you do?" Thor's frown then deepened, and she could see the cogs rolling behind his eyes. "Even so, I can't send you-"
"I'll send myself, thanks," Hermione said, folding her arms. "I'm doing this with or without your permission. You're welcome."
Frustrated, Thor hissed, "Your magic does not qualify you to be so reckless."
Hypocrite!
"You hardly know anything about me. Rescue missions were once considered another day at the office for me. I can and will fetch Loki with my tricks which served me well in the past. Give me a week."
"Even if I were to agree to this nonsense, there's no way I could tell the council nor Jane. There are too many ways this rescue mission of yours could fail. What am I to tell Jane of your death? She'd hold me responsible for not stopping you. She'd never…" He sighed a ragged breath, his expression stricken. "I'd lose both her and my brother."
His words made her hesitate. She hadn't thought of the impact her failure would bring if her plan did not succeed. Failure was something almost foreign to her. Yes, she could die, and her loved ones would mourn, but her death ending a marriage—a family—wasn't something she considered.
Looking down at floor, Hermione swallowed and said, "I'm not going to wait for your kingdom to figure out what the next step is. I don't have to play by the rules. I'm not from here. If by chance I'm caught, they can't trace me back here. I'll tell them lies and Jane? She'll never know. She never has to. I'll tell her I forgot to take care of a few matters on Earth and will return shortly. If I die, say there was a traffic accident or something."
"Those are a lot of lies, Hermione."
"Then by all means, tell her the truth and see what happens."
Thor grit his teeth, flaring his nostrils. "Were you like this before you met Loki?" He shook his head and waved dismissively. "Go. Go before I change my mind and inform Jane of everything, including what I know of your magic and your relationship with my brother. But mark my words, Lady Hermione, I will not lie to my wife ever again. Not for you or anyone, no matter the circumstances."
"I don't know if I find that admirable or naïve," she said, her gaze drifting to the window. She needed to ready herself quickly if she wanted to leave Asgard by nightfall. "The sooner I leave, the better Loki's chances are."
Taking her hand before she could leave, he tenderly clasped it. "Do you love him?"
"With all due respect, this is hardly the ti—"
"Do you love him?" he repeated, gruff and earnest. She suppressed the urge to wince from the increasing pressure of his fingers. She looked into his eyes and knew he wouldn't let her go unless she answered correctly. As of now, Loki's life depended on her, and Thor was desperate to know he wasn't making a mistake in trusting someone who was practically a strange to save him.
"Sometimes," Hermione confessed. "He…makes it difficult."
A ghost of a smile drifted over Thor's features, and he kissed the back of her hand. The tension in his shoulders relax, his apprehensiveness melting away. "You may have whatever you need for the journey—weapons, armor, it's yours."
"I'd prefer unlimited access to the palace's apothecary and the libraries."
"It would be wise to bear a weapon."
"I'm the weapon." She'd been put on the wrack for a number of years, but a bit of dusting and polishing should spruce herself up just fine.
Thor smiled, patronizing, and untied a holster from his hips and presented her a sheathed dagger. "This is my brother's. Use it in case your tricks fail you."
Begrudgingly, she accepted the dagger and for the time being, secured it around her waist. The dagger hung opposite of her pouch.
"I'll prepare a horse to take you to the Bi-frost at dawn tomorrow," Thor said.
"I'll be leaving before dinner."
By sunset, Hermione found herself dressed in Midgardian attire. She had considered wearing Aesir armor but decided against it. She couldn't chance the Jotunns tracing her back to Asgard. With that in mind, she donned two thick pairs of leggings, internally padded lace-up boots, a thick sweater, and a zip-up hooded jacket. In the beaded bag slung around her shoulder, she had much more layers and clothing to spare.
As promised, Thor offered her a horse for her journey to the Bi-frost which she took. When she came to the end of Asbru Bridge, she dismounted and walked the platform Heimdall stood upon.
"You are dressed too warm for the season, Lady Hermione," he said.
She clutched her bag and looked back at him, asking, "Do you see him?"
"The Jotunns have shrouded the prince well. I cannot take you directly to him."
"Then take me to a place that won't alert any of the natives. Please."
Heimdall bowed his head at her, and Hermione walked around his platform while he opened the Bi-frost.
The journey to Jotunhiem was similar to that of leaving and going to Earth. Hermione kept her eyes shut until she landed on solid ground. With the absence of the Bi-frosts beam, the impossibly icy air assaulted her, and her lungs smarted with each breath. Her knees buckled, and she stooped into a crouching position to preserve warmth. Never had she been so cold in her life.
Refraining from licking her lips, Hermione pulled out her wand from the bag and cast a warming spell upon herself. Her shivering stopped, and she was able to focus on her barren surroundings. Crumbles of rock and what could have been pillars some time ago littered the ground around her. Casting a spell to remove the imprint left from of the Bi-frost, she then magicked herself invisible and started walking. The earth felt brittle beneath her boots. So brittle in fact, she believed if she were to stamp her feet, Jotunheim would crack into chunks and disperse along Yggdrasil, peppering the eight other realm with its hideousness.
The sky was dark, and Hermione recalled reading a book in the palace library how the realm lacked a sun. She wanted to ignite the tip of her wand but thought better of it. Instead, she conjured a slightly illuminated, blue ball to give herself comfort.
Several hours, perhaps four, went by before Hermione needed to stop and rest. Her ball bobbed impatiently next to her ear. Her warming charm began to fade, and she fished out a canteen of warm water from her bag, allowing herself only small sips. She then cast another warming spell on herself again before continuing her trek.
Her eyes grew heavy as did her legs. Her feet ached, and Hermione knew she soon needed to recharge. As badly as she wanted to rescue Loki, she wouldn't succeed if she lacked the energy.
Forcing herself to the point of exhaustion, Hermione finally gave into her body's needs and took out a bed sheet from her bag, transfiguring it into a makeshift tent only large enough to shelter herself for the night. She then made up a bed with the blankets and pillows she packed. Before crawling beneath the covers, she cast one more warming spell around her and then drifted into an unfit sleep.
However long later, Hermione stirred awake when hearing voices outside of her makeshift tent. Her heart dropped low in her stomach and stayed still, even going so far as to hold her breath, while listening carefully to the conversation merely a few feet away. The wind howled loudly, making it difficult to catch every word.
"…yet to arrange an exchange…"
"...queen expected…refuses…"
"…Asgard's prince…traitor to all…"
The two voices were masculine and growing louder while the sound of footsteps did, as well.
Soon, two figures walked by her tent, one of them carrying a torch that allowed Hermione to decipher their large frames through the tent's material. One of them slowed and then came to a stop, inhaling sharply.
"I smell something…"
"...sweet."
Curling her fingers around her wand, Hermione sniffed her hair. They smelt her conditioner.
"Where's it coming from?" one of the giants asked, stepping closer to the tent.
"There is," said the other, "strange magic."
Hastily, Hermione removed her cloaking spell and Disapperated, appearing behind the two giants, their naked backs facing her. They had flinched at the popping sound of her movement, and she took advantage of their semi-shaken state to temporarily blind them with a spell and then Stupefy them. When they fell, the ground rattled a bit and she gazed upon their slacked faces, and cast an Obliviate at one. The other, she conjured tight, strong ropes to bind him to the frozen earth—three around his neck, several around each arm, each leg, and his torso. She then cast a resilient, widespread Muffliato.
With a Finite Incantatum, she removed the Stupefy on the bound giant but left him blind. She stood off to the side of him and watched him struggle with his bindings and call out for help.
"They can't hear you," she said, and the giant stilled, his sightless eyes jerking in her direction.
"Who are you?" he growled. His struggling started again, two of the bindings snapping on his legs. She replaced them and tightened the ropes around his neck, spelling them to constrict as the giant thrashed. He quickly caught on and soon calmed enough to glare at a large boulder beside her and bare his sharp teeth.
"You have my attention," he said.
"What is your name?"
"What is yours?"
A Stinging Jinx to his knee had him gritting his teeth and cursing her in an unknown language. His marked, blue chest heaved and eventually he said, "Agmundr."
"Agmundr, where is my mentor?"
"I have no idea what you sp-ahhh!"
Another Stinging Jinx, this one to his lower gut, had the giant quivering in pain.
"I don't relish in your misery, Jotunn, but my actions are necessary until you provide the information I need. Your realm has imprisoned my mentor. Tell me where I can find him, and no further harm will come upon you."
"You're scent is not of Asgard." The giant's tone indicated his confusion. "Who sent you?"
A magical blow to the chest left the giant gasping for breath. He panted raggedly and spat in her direction. The spittle landed nowhere near her.
"Myself," she stated. "Tell me where Loki of Asgard is."
"I don't know."
"Pity, that. Are you sure? Because I'd rather not harm you or your companion. He looks so young. You two resemble each other. Are you brothers?"
From the way the giant began to struggle against the ropes again, Hermione got her answer.
"You'll strangle yourself and then where will we be?" she chided, clucking her tongue. "You die, I have no choice but to move my interrogation onto him."
"The Silvertongue deserves his sentence. He must pay for his crimes against this realm!"
"I don't care."
The giant chuckled mirthlessly which concluded into a dry cough. "I suppose you do not."
"Your rules and laws mean nothing to me. All what matters is that I've been without my mentor for some time. It's unacceptable."
"You are better off without him, I promise you that."
"Your words bore me, Jotunn. I'll give you one more chance to tell me where I can find Loki of Asgard. You don't take it, your younger brother will feel my disappointment."
"You're lying."
Yes. Yes, she was. Damn.
Getting closer, Hermione pointed her wand at Agmundr's head. "I apologize. This going to be extremely unpleasant for you. Legilimens!"
Unfortunately, the giant didn't know the exact location of Loki, for he was a little more than a civilian according to his memories. However, by word of mouth he'd been told Jotunheim's prisoner was within the vicinity of the old palace ruins. The area was heavily secured, patrols at all hours and at all times.
Sighing, Hermione cast another Stupefy on the giant and wiped his memories of the last twenty minutes. She did the same to his brother before packing up her tent and supplies, as well as the ball of light she conjured. Placing the appropriate charms and spells upon herself, she left the giants unbound and unconscious and told her locating ball to take her to the outskirts of the palace ruins.
Hermione hadn't walked for long before she began to see more frost giants. Soon, she found herself in the middle of a community setting where many of them appeared to be rebuilding devastated structures. Because of the series of cloaking spells, they paid her no mind as she marched through the village.
Several hours went by, and Hermione trekked through vast expanses of jagged, earthy nothingness as well as through villages and towns, some of them deserted and destroyed while others were under reconstruction.
From what she noticed of the Jotunns, aside from the young children, they were an unhappy race. Not only that, they seemed to rely heavily on handcrafted weapons and tools. Their magic was old world-complex and strenuous in practice. Their technology was lacking compared to Asgard's and, in many ways, Earth's.
The unhappiness could very well be from the war they recently suffered, but there was something ancient about their hardened behavior and sneers to the few who dared smile genuinely. Like it was an original sin to have hope, even momentarily. Hermione saw these manners in both the former rebels and those for the new regime. A new queen with new revolutions to help improve the state of the realm had very little value.
Weariness crept upon her, and the muscles of her legs and ankles ached from overuse. Another day must be coming to a close, and she needed to rest. She walked a few more paces until reaching a large boulder to lean against. The coldness of it poked at her warming charms as she sipped at her warm water. The blue ball of light bobbed beside her and then hummed. She wiped her mouth and stared at it before climbing up a bit on the boulder and looking over the top of it. A desolate, ruin-filled valley greeted her. At least one hundred frost giants were littered about the region, thirty or so of them clustered inside a barely standing temple.
While hashing out her next move, the wind's howls died down, and Hermione stilled when hearing what they had obscured. Screaming echoing off the valley walls assaulted her ears, and made her gut turn to lead. The shrieks were of anguish and deep suffering. It was a sound she'd never think or believe could come from Loki.
It was him.
Eyes narrowing on the temple, she clenched her wand and began descending into the valley.
A/N: As mentioned in the first chapter, the story hops around.
Please review and tell me your thoughts on the story/chapter. It's kind of fun to write, and I'd like to know what you think. I'm still up for answering questions and responding to comments. Feel free to PM me, as well.