Part Four.

It was difficult to tell exactly what time of day it was on Jotunheim as the harsh weather conditions often hid all traces of the sun. Night was on them very suddenly and with no visible warning signs until it simply washed over them like a wave and the temperatures plummeted even lower, if that were possible. It was then that even Loki began to feel it.

Sif was not a complainer. She had not gotten to where she was by complaining, nor would she start now, so when she felt Loki throw his own cloak around her to add a little extra warmth, she couldn't stop the look of surprise. "I don't need-"

"I barely feel it. Just take it," he snapped the first words she'd heard him speak in hours. His lie was poorly covered, though, as she could see the way his jaw was set to keep from letting his teeth chatter against it the cold. Perhaps she truly was weathering it better than most, if she was keeping up with a Frost Giant.

She shook her head, banishing the thought. Regardless of where Loki was born, and regardless of what he may or may not look like when Odin's spell was forcibly ripped from him, he was still of Asgard, raised there and mostly accustomed to the more temperate climate. He was still the man that she knew. "We need shelter."

He pulled a deep breath in, letting it out slowly through his nose. "Up ahead."

Sif squinted, trying to see what he was talking about when he wrapped an arm around her suddenly and pulled her forward. Before she knew it, they were ducking into a small cave and out of the elements. She already felt warmer and sank gratefully to the uneven ground.

It was small, shallow cave with signs of use, though perhaps not within a fortnight. Piles of sticks lay against the far back wall and Loki took hold of them instantly, bringing them close to Sif. She began digging in her bag for a piece of flint and steel she'd brought with her and frowned when she'd all but emptied the contents on the floor of the cave. "I must have lost it earlier."

"Good thing you decided to come with a sorcerer then, hmm?" Loki asked as he knelt down next to the rather pathetic looking stack of sticks. It would have to do.

"I thought you couldn't use fire magic."

"I shouldn't use fire magic," he countered. "There is a difference."

"That's what happened last time we were here." She remembered the younger prince's attack to save the elder. The trickster had known what could happen when he'd loosed that attack and had suffered for it since. Though Loki would never admit it openly to anyone, Sif had listened to Thor's worries over his brother's health since. The crowned prince was certain that the recovery had never been a complete one as he still had strange bouts where his temperature would suddenly rise in an unexplained fever or plummet. It never lasted long, and he did well enough to hide away, but Thor had noticed as he often did in the days following their fall out and and when his brother had come home to him.

Loki purposefully didn't look at her as he spoke a low word and the flame leapt up from the wood. He winced, pulling the glove from the hand that was nearest the new flames and inspecting the small burn marks there. "It rebounds on me, as you well know. This little bit won't hurt in the whole of it." He shifted, looking very uncomfortable all of a sudden, as if he realized that there would be no place for him to retreat to.

Sif snorted at him. "How's the head?"

"Surprisingly better than the back. You're heavier than you look when you come rolling down a hill into someone."

The goddess of war had been peeling her gloves off and threw one at the prince. "You may be royalty, but I'll still hit you."

A hint of a smile perked his lips. "I know."

She rolled her eyes. "What are we looking for here anyway? Did your father give you a starting point... Anything?"

"No, it was more of a feeling, of warnings of others that felt we were moving too quickly towards this." He stopped, eyes fixated on the flames. "I don't trust him."

"Who?"

"Leifr."

"Why?"

"Why should I? He's Laufey's son."

"So are you. I suppose that makes you half-brothers then, hmm?"

"He's no brother of mine," Loki growled out, all the walls that he had let crack around her recently suddenly going back into place. His body tensed and she felt the need to hit him growing.

"I don't mean... Never mind. Sit over there and pout for all I care, but know that it doesn't get us any closer to what you're here for. To getting us home."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have come after all," Loki muttered lowly.

As the night stretched on and the fire burned low, Sif was awoken by the muffled sounds of the second prince of Asgard dreaming. She didn't dare wake him, but from the sounds of it he fought his demons at night with the same ferocity that he'd fought everything when his life depended on it. It was dark and she couldn't see his face as he slept facing away from her, but she could hear him call out for his brother over and over again until he jolted awake. If he knew she were awake, he did not acknowledge it, nor did lie back down after that. As she finally drifted back to sleep she thought again how unfair it had been to send Loki, of all people, to Jotunheim, and even more so to keep his brother from his side if he must go.

Thor found himself yawning widely for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. He just couldn't help it. Since speaking to his brother on the matter four days before he had made good on his promise to attend the meetings. He hadn't realized that he'd agreed to attend all the meetings, of course, and part of him felt more than a little duped by Loki's talk of duty when the younger prince did not show at all. In fact, when he went looking for him, he couldn't find a soul that had seen him around the palace since Thor had last spoken to him.

"Are we boring you, my prince?" Aegir groused, looking unamused from his chair.

"No, of course not," the thunderer said quickly, hoping he had not missed anything too important.

"Then your opinion on the matter?"

Damn. He didn't understand how Loki did it. How did he sit here, completely still - they glared at you if you fidgeted too much - and still pay attention to each and every word that was said? He was sure he had not been giving his little brother enough credit. Almost as sure as he was that he was going to pummel him into the ground for the first time in years for leaving him to it without proper warning.

"My friends, we have been at this for hours. Perhaps we all need to rest our eyes." The voice belonged to Bram and he had already stood from his place, urging Aegir and the others to follow his example.

Thor watched as the others followed and Aegir, sputtering and irritable, finally stood as well. He directed his bitter words towards the crowned prince. "While it's a breath of fresh air to finally have the prince that is meant to be here at our table, perhaps your younger brother would care to finish what he's started."

Aegir's words were lost when Thor walked out the door without a word, blatantly ignoring him.

"Your Highness?"

The blond stopped, Bram approaching and giving a short bow. "Forgive me, but is your brother well? I haven't seen him miss this many council meetings in a row... well, ever. Not since he took his position, at an rate. I sit in on another couple that he usually attends and he has been absent from them as well."

Thor tilted his head, almost as if sizing the smaller Asgardian up. He was not accustomed to the politicians of his realm, even though they had often moved through the same halls as he all of his years. Bram, as so many of them, was part of a much smaller lot when it came to the usual broadness of Asgardians. He was bright, observant, and Thor had grown instantly fond of him when he'd explained several things that the crowned prince had not understood on the first day. His patience was a welcomed change from the others and he'd never heard a foul word spoken of him from his brother.

"I'm afraid I have not seen Loki," Thor said slowly, certain that his brother's absence was worrying him, but unsure if it should be a cause to spread the rumour.

"Strange," Bram murmured. "I'm sure whatever he is doing is quite important."

"If it's Loki you're to be sure he's involved in some mischief or the other."

Thor spun at the sound of the voice behind him and his face broke into the first grin he'd given in days. He was surprised the muscles remembered which way they were meant to move. "Lyall! I'd heard you were not due in for another day or more!"

The tall prince from Beyond the Vale grinned and returned the embrace he was readily offered. "Things have been in constant motion with the whole ordeal. Father thought it best to be here when the Jotuns arrive."

"That's not for another two days," Thor protested and Lyall gave a shrug, eyes shifting to look at the man behind him. The Asgardian prince motioned between them. "Lyall, this is Bram, one of my father's advisors. He's been quite helpful in making sure I don't look a complete fool sitting in on the council working on the truce."

"Pleasure," Lyall said with a friendly smile, but returned his gaze to Thor. "What, did Loki grow tired to answering your incessant questions?" he asked with a grin. "Pawn you off on some poor, unsuspecting soul? Don't worry, Bram, he'll get it eventually."

Thor took a good natured swing at the other prince. "Har har. I'm sure you and Loki spend much time going over my ill attempts-"

"Actually he's been quite complimentary of you as of late in his letters. I was beginning to worry that he was growing ill." The devilish grin spread again. "Where is your little brother?"

"If you'll excuse me," Bram murmured and Thor nodded.

"He's been missing for days," the blond murmured and they began to walk. "I can't find a single person that should have seen him that has. Mother's upset over it, but she won't tell me if she has any theories at all."

"Anyone else missing?"

Thor stopped, thinking. "Sif," he said at last.

The grin only broadened, if it were possible. "Well, I'd never have seen that coming."

"It's not like that."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"How so?"

Thor stopped, thought, and then shook his head. The only image that seemed to come to his mind was Sif hurling her spear in his brother's direction and Loki laughing at her for something or the other. Strange, how it seemed as if things had not changed at all in some cases. "Because, even if it were possible, something darker is at play. I saw him the day that he turned up missing, in the morning. He came to me over worries that I wasn't sitting in for the council meetings. I think he was setting me up to take his place in them because he knew he wasn't going to be there."

Lyall's playful attitude dampened a bit at these words and his face grew serious. "Where would he go?"

"That's the question I have no answer to, and if Sif is with him... I do not know."

"Have you asked your father?"

Thor frowned at this. He had not spoken to Odin since the screaming match four days prior. Between anger and business, he simply hadn't found the will or the time to do so. "I have not."

"I'd start there," Lyall offered.

"You know something more than you're letting on, don't you?"

"Not a thing, Thor. Not one damn thing."

"I think we've found all we're going to find," Sif said quietly as they trudged through the snow. It was late afternoon, the best they could tell in a world that's sun was hidden behind a perpetual cloud. "If any more of their scouts go missing, they'll start to notice."

Green eyes shifted over to her, but he did not speak. They had run into no less than five more small patrols the same as they had within moments of arriving. They were bruised, beaten, and exhausted. Her leg ached terribly from her first encounter with them, and she'd added more cuts and bruises to her body than she cared to count. Loki had not slept a wink again since the hour or two he'd tossed and turned the first night, and his nervous demeanor was making Sif uneasy as well.

"I will not return to Father empty handed," Loki murmured at last.

"Perhaps there's nothing to find." Sif stood, crossing the space to stand in front of him. "Loki, you haven't failed him if we don't find anything."

He turned on her, looking fully ready to unleash something that would have an eloquent bite to it, but he did not have the chance as he heard - perhaps sensed more than heard - someone's approach and pulled her down into the dusty snow as he had quickly grown into the habit of doing. She glared at him but did not take the swing at his face that she so desired. She didn't care if he was royalty, she didn't care if Thor came after her himself, it was likely that she would beat Loki in the most embarrassing moment possible for him when they returned home even if it was to simply prove that she could still do it. Needless to say she regretted the decision to accompany him.

There was a very small caravan of Jotuns moving through the snow. They did not look like the scouts that they'd run across in the three days' time that they'd been there, but instead more like a traveling party. Almost civilized. As the two Asgardians squinted against the glare, they saw a young Frost Giant with jewels and armor combined, his eyes red as blood and he spoke in an authoritative voice. A woman, older than he, walked next to him, looking no less the warrior for her age.

"That's Leifr," Loki hissed.

"They're going early. Surely they don't expect to be able to control the Bifrost or command Heimdall to bring them over days in advance."

They fell silent instantly, ducking deeper into their hole as the Jotun king seemed to glance in their direction. If he had heard them or was merely watching his surroundings, neither could be sure. He turned back to his party, and there was a whirl of icy and snow. They were gone without warning, leaving only the sound of the wind cutting across the open space where they had been. The two trespassers looked at each other, realization setting in and Loki grabbed hold of Sif's hand and they too were gone before she had a chance to protest.

TBC

A/N: I'm pretty sure Sif's going to kill Loki. Yep, there's your spoiler. That's how it ends. Forget the Jotuns, Loki, fear the goddess of war that you continuously piss off.

Please feel free to feed the author's addiction to reviews. It helps her write, I promise. It also sparks some very interesting conversations that I can see affecting this story as it goes.