Chapter 4

"Wish I could relive

Every single word.

We've taken different paths and traveled different roads,

I know we'll always end up on the same one when we're old,

And when you're in the trenches and you're under fire I will cover you"

"Brother" Kodaline

Thor was tired. So very tired he was having a hard time caring about the continued existence… of anything. He didn't particularly care that the economy was floundering a bit in gold trading. Everything in Asgard was gold. Why did they need more? He didn't really care that a new group was rising to fight against illegal slave trade. They'd risen up and fallen down for thousands of years and hadn't made a difference. He didn't really care that the Lord Volund's daughter was to be scandalously married to someone far below her station. Lord Volund had twelve daughters, what did it matter that one of them was marrying someone they actually loved?

He really should care that the elves of Alfheim were pulling back from trade because of a realm-wide drought and depression, or that the gold economy was taking a slight dip, or that the illegal slave-trade was finally being fought a little again, but… he didn't.

He was too tired to care. His father only pretended to care, he was fairly certain, at this point, his mother was too dead to care, his wife was still basically a foreigner and didn't understand much of what happened, and his brother was too… he honestly didn't know what was up with Loki… but maybe he was too damaged to care at this point.

By the time he'd finished with his first full day of meetings and debates for the month of Grinúrcetóff he was so numb and uncaring he felt on the verge of tears. He'd never felt so alone in his own home before.

"My Prince," Aenon, his dark-haired man-servant came over to speak to him during a recess, "Will you be dining with your wife tonight, or staying late?"

Thor took a deep breath and glanced around at the Council who were scattered about the room in their various clusters still debating needless details of individual cases. Thor didn't have the talent for politics. To him right was right and wrong was wrong. All of these loopholes and tactics felt wrong even if they were necessary. Once again he wondered at how Loki would have handled the position of Crown Prince. Considerably better, most likely. Loki had a broader spectrum of how much deceit was acceptable. Alright, that wasn't necessarily fair.

Jane. He needed to focus on Jane right now. Was he going to eat with her tonight, or did his responsibilities require that he stay with the Council late?

"Yes, I think I will dine with Jane this evening, Aenon, in our private dining room, though."

The man-servant bowed and nodded. "Very, well, my Prince." Aenon stood and left to make the arrangements.

"Is the Prince ready to return to the discussion? Or shall we prolong this recess?" Lord Barthem inquired sarcastically with his nasally tone. He gave Thor a look that clearly expressed he thought that the call for a recess was highly unnecessary and uncalled for. Thor considered how long it would take him to pin the fat old man to the table and decided less than a minute even considering his armed guard.

He sighed again as his brother's reminder from centuries ago flickered through his ears.

"Fists should be a last resort, Thor. You can't solve all conflicts like they're war, you know."

He missed that Loki. The young, gentle Loki who always had a quick smile and word of wisdom that rarely came from young men his age. The Loki who had a mischievous grin, sharp wit and danced through politics like they were a game instead of a task. The Loki who would jump a foot in the air and then burst out in a fit of laughter when Thor startled him, instead of flipping backwards out of his chair and drawing a dagger for being caught sleeping.

All he had left of that brother now was a bitter shell of a man who was quicker with blades than smiles and met opposition in arguments with a resigned silence; knowing he was beat in it before he began because no matter how sharp his mind or tongue was honed his rank and rights were so low now he didn't even seem to think trying was worth it. With that sweet memory and bitter taste of reality Thor swallowed his temper and responded blandly,

"Yes, Lord Barthem, I believe most of us are ready to continue. Gentlemen?"

There was a chorus of agreement and the fat old lords started shuffling into their spot around the table. Thor watched them with bitter resentment and wondered numbly if he was going to end up exactly like the rest of them. His gaze flickered up to his father's at the head of the table and not for the first time he thought about what a great man and warrior his father used to be.

And look at you now, Thor thought with a cruel bitterness, Fat, old, bored, and uncaring as the lot of them. I am going to end up like them, aren't I? Just like you did.

"Recess adjourned," Odin slammed the butt of Gungir against the floor and as it echoed through the chamber Thor felt a numb terror of its power, not for the respect he used to have, but for the fear of what power could whittle away from a man's soul. What it would undoubtedly take from his.

By the time he had finished with cases Thor was late for dinner with Jane and his numbness had been replaced by a simmering rage. The old Lord's of the Council had stopped discussing real politics and were laughing about the report the ambassador to Jotunheim had brought back about the state of the Jotun-people.

The surviving half of the planet were slowly starving to death and many had resorted to eating their own dead to survive. A madness had infected many of the frost-giant's minds and the realm was in total anarchy. A half-starved, half-mad people scrambling over each other just to try and survive. When the report had begun Thor's unspeakable rage had been directed at Loki who had burned the other half of the planet into oblivion with the Bifrost, but slowly that rage redirected itself to those in power, here at the table, instead of the prisoner prince with no rights.

"That's what the brainless Veslingr's get for focussing the heart of their planet into the Casket of winters!" One laughed.

"Idiots!"

"They practically handed us their own defeat, concentrating their power like that!"

"Like dogs licking their master's boots! Dumb beasts!"

"The dogs are eating their own children! Disgusting!"

"Well, what do you expect? Their half evolved primitive creatures! Did you really expect and civility from them?"

"Maybe we should just finish them off. Rid the Realms of their filth…"

"Why bother? Why waste the mannpower if we could just wait for them to finish eachother off? Might as well let them clean up their own mess. Less bodies to deal with too, if they're eating eachother."

"Absolutely disgusting."

"Filth."

"Primal…"

"Savages, the lot of them."

"You know they say Laufey was the only one intelligent enough to actually speak?"

"That's probably why they worshiped him like a god. He was the smartest of the brutes."

"God? Animals don't have gods, don't be ridiculous."

Thor's boiling blue gaze flickered silently between the speaking parties until they finally fell on Odin who sat impassively at the head of the table as though there was nothing interesting about the discussion.

He's not going to say anything. Thor realized through his haze of rage. He's going to sit here and listen to them call an entire species, Loki's species animals. They're calling Loki an animal. A savage. A beast. And our Father doesn't even care. Are you comfortable up their in your chair, listening to them degrade an entire society? You are, aren't you.

"Will Asgard send aide?" he finally snapped, unwilling to let another insult into his head.

"Aide?" Lord Remien laughed in a way that clearly expressed he was baffled by the concept. "Why in the the nine realms would we send them aide?"

"They are starving." Thor bit out, desperately trying to swallow down the roar from his tone. Each word rumbled under the weight of his barely contained fury. "Will Asgard do nothing as an entire race slowly starves to death? When has this behavior ever been accepted?"

His questions were met with blank or quizzical stares and a moment of silence before a few confused chuckles rattled around the empty space.

Always. It's always been accepted when it comes to Frost-Giants. Thor realized with a sudden souring in his stomach. He himself had accepted it until he'd been told of Loki's biology. It had been hard to wrap his mind around, and he still struggled with the concept of Frost-giants being people, but that was him he knew now, not the Jotun people.

He was battling his own prejudice because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the little boy who used to toddle into his room to crawl into his bed with him as a small child, the little trickster with bright eyes and a dimpled smile, the long, lanky youth who matched him blow for blow in the sparring ring, the young man who loved his wife and little child beyond life itself was a person. No shadow of a doubt there. Therefore, though the perception was hard to move past, it was obvious to him that it was prejudice, and perception, not fact.

But here were all these old men, centuries too old for battle, all the same color, same nationality, same social status, same history, same gender, all sitting here around the table laughing at helping these starving people because they weren't people. They were animals.

And if he tried to prove that they weren't, if he revealed Loki's true parentage at this table, he wouldn't change their minds about the other race, he'd only change their perception of Loki from fallen prince to dumb brute. Odin's slight little smirk said that. Loki. His brilliant, broken, little brother. They would demand to slaughter him like am animal… and Odin wouldn't stop it. Thor stood from the table slowly and a loud clap of thunder snarled outside, lighting the room up in blinding light for a moment and silencing the table instantly.

He noticed his father's grip tighten on Gungir and he couldn't hold back the sneer that worked its way across his face. So you'll defend this group of selfish blind old men but not your youngest son? He wasn't sure why he was still surprised at his father's lack of care for Loki.

"I want to discuss what aide Asgard is willing to give the Jotun people." he put an emphasis on 'people' but he wasn't sure if it had any effect on anyone at the table. He'd have to word this exactly right if he wanted to get the desired effect. Just think like Loki. He told himself… actually, he had no idea how Loki thought to be perfectly honest. He was fairly certain that Loki's synapses fired faster than the speed of light. Alright, just speak like him then. He relented. Mimic his brother? Now that he could do.

"I am going to put the weight of my vote, which is worth more than half of yours combined, into the remainder of this single week of Grinúrcetóff being dedicated to finding a solution to how Asgard (as guardian of the nine realms) will respond to this immediate crisis. If the other half of you vote against it we will find ourselves at a stalemate to be decided by duel, which-" he gripped the table harshly, tendons and bones groaning under the weight of the tensions dancing up his arms and across his shoulders. "-I certainly won't object to.

However, if you agree that duel isn't the most efficient method of solving this vote, I want all options on the table including returning the casket of winters to them worst case scenario-" at the sudden reaction at the table he held up a fist to silence them with another intense display of power across the sky that rattled the floor beneath their feet. "We stole the heart to their planet, which," he dared point an accusation at the Allfather, "could be identified by the Treaty of Guillriessa as a 'Crime against souls', which would definitely warrant our sending the Heart back if not punishment for the original council and king. However, if it is decided that Asgard can aide Jotunheim without returning the Casket of Winters, I will accept a solution of that nature.

If anyone has any objections they may be brought up tomorrow in discussion but I will warn you that any argument based solely on the argument of prejudice or some childish excuse at Jotun's not being persons will not be tolerated.

This is the royal council, everything discussed at this table should be proven by fact, logic, magic, and science, not fairytales and fables you tell you're poor uneducated children at bedtime.

Allfather, I'm grateful for your support in defending the nine realms in the past and trust you will continue to do so in the future. Thank you gentlemen, I will see you tomorrow and hope your solutions for aide are worthy of your positions at this table and in this Council.

Allfather." He gave a stiff bow to his father who was watching him with an unreadable expression and leveled a challenging glare on the rest of the Council. "Good evening."

And with a whirl on his heel, that snapped his cape and echoed in another growl across sky, the Crown Prince of Asgard left the table.