Chapter Four

Fafnirsbane

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Marvel and are based on Norse and Germanic mythology. The Tarnhelm is a creation of Richard Wagner. A lot of creative license has been taken...

A/N: Thank you so much for all the feedback, you lovely people. Quite a shortish chapter this week but hopefully things will pick up soon.

"I have no idea how to get to Vanaheim. I was bluffing." he'd done it now. He could feel the Fetter tighten slightly around his being and shivered is discomfort.

"You what?" that was it he had definitely pushed her too far this time. It was strange, he stalked her, threatened her, harassed her, goaded her, even tried to kill her that night and she had held her own against him. But it seemed as though all hope had left her. He had once felt that as long as she paid attention to him then it didn't matter if that attention was good or bad. That had been before he had found himself on the receiving end of her disappointment.

"I never actually said that I knew the way, you just assumed I did." Loki explained. "Which is flattering, I admit, but completely misinformed. So why don't we just call this whole thing off, I take the Tarnhelm, you can go back to looking after mother's headaches, and we'll just pretend this whole awkward mess never happened." It was a feeble offer, he knew she would make him pay for this but at least he didn't have to worry about finding himself at the wrong end of her blade.

"Oh no, there's no way to get out of this one. If you think I would let you go after slighting me like this then you truly are as mad as they say. You probably feel it already but the longer you stall the more painful the bond becomes. So if you do not know the way then you must find a way, or suffer an eternity of ever increasing pain." She got up, roughly pulling her cloak over her shoulders. "Or you could always go to Heimdall. He will gladly make short work of severing the bond. But it would also involve severing your head from your shoulders."

"Is that so? I didn't know you were so eager to spend time with me. You only needed to ask." Loki smirked but inside the memory of the searing pain he had suffered was still fresh. Odin's prison was beginning to look warm and inviting compared with this. "Now where are you going?"

"I'm going outside for a while….to kill an equally pathetic creature." She growled. "I don't think I can even look at you right now." And with that she was gone leaving him alone in the mouldering hall.

Loki almost felt bad for her. He knew that in coming to him it was clear she had no other options. But he did like to be bound and what she had done had been unforgiveable in his eyes. For centuries he had pursued her and she had denied him at every turn but the moment she wanted something he was suddenly worthy of her attention again. And that spell, that horrible underhanded spell, which essentially kept him on a leash until she decided to let him go. He had thought only the Allfather could do such things. What he wouldn't give to possess such power.

Left alone in the firelight he noticed that Sigyn had forgotten to take the Tarnhelm with her. The desire to wear the Helm of Dread was overwhelming. Despite his attempt to steal it earlier he had not had the time to examine it properly. If the legends about it were true then invisibility was only a fraction of what it was capable of. He took the enchanted helmet in his hands searching for some clue, some inscription that might show him how it worked. He hadn't been entirely truthful about not knowing a way to Vanaheim. He did not know exactly how to get there, but he had a strong theory and that was enough. He had simply wished to hurt her for her insolence, even if she had been right. Perhaps he had acted too harshly.

At least such a treasure was a fair reward for what he had been burdened with, at least it would be if he was right about it. But if he was able to win her over as well, impress her enough to become his ally, then he would have the power of the fetter incantation as well. And he wanted her; there was no point in denying it out of bitterness. He made up his mind that he would have her. It had been so long since he had bedded a woman, and who could be better than the very woman who had eluded him for so long. Now that he no longer had anything to prove, he realised he was probably not the marrying type but the fact that she was extremely powerful and the rightful queen of Vanaheim gave him enough incentive to try. He could settle in Vanaheim, if the realm was restored to its former glory it could become Asgard's equal again. And who wouldn't want to rule a realm made up entirely of sunny islands filled with magic and fruit trees and relaxed morals. To him it sounded like paradise and it could all be his for the taking if he managed to win its princess.

It was in his nature to want more, and he could not deny that he still wanted her, perhaps more than ever now that she had revealed her true nature to him. She was had been an enemy of Asgard long before he had gotten started. Before, she had been aloof, pleasant and courteous but always an outsider much like himself, a mystery to him, and a puzzle that needed to be solved. Unlike the other Vanir hostages who had integrated themselves until people forgot they were foreigners, Sigyn had always stubbornly maintained her land's customs and subsequently stood out at court with her hair worn loose and her brightly coloured gowns. He had probably thought himself in love with her because she was so different but what was even more appealing was the fact that she was forbidden to him and if there was one constant in his character it was that he always wanted what he couldn't have. It was practically the story of his life, his downfall even.

He had spent so much time wishing that he could change himself, he had always thought that if he had all the qualities that Thor had then everything would be better. If the two of them had been born the same then they would both be equals, and his parents would love them equally and he would have people he could count as friends instead of merely tagging along with Thor's friends. Even now, though his rational mind knew it wouldn't change anything, he sorely wished he could be like his brother, former brother, arch enemy, that bearded buffoon, whatever he was to him now, he still wasn't sure.

He felt warmer somehow, and not from the fire, it felt as though his blood had suddenly gone mad and had begun to course through his veins. He felt larger too, broader, less graceful and more unwieldy about the limbs and to his surprise, quite itchy around his face and neck. He reached up to scratch his chin and nearly cried out in surprise when he felt bristles on his normally smooth chin. He looked down at his hand, noticing the large calluses that had suddenly appeared, his fingers were shorter, an unfamiliar scar had appeared on his thumb and by the stars what in Helheim had happened to his nails? It was then he noticed that he was still holding the Tarnhelm in his lap as he thought but the face reflected in its shiny black surface was not his own but that of Thor. And then a revelation hit him.

"Sigyn!" he called rushing out from under the ground and into the forest clearing. When there was no answer he began to search the woods for her. After a few minutes he discovered her sitting among the mossy roots of a nearby ash her head in her hands and her golden hair matted with dead leaves.

"Loki, why do you keep putting things in my hair?" she swatted his hand away and turned back to her book. Since the feast they had taken to meeting in the gardens when they both had a spare moment. It was the highlight of his week and he had spent most of his free time reading everything he could find about Vanaheim when he should have been studying.

Overall she was a good influence on him; they would talk or read together and sometimes he would help her with her studies. To his surprise he had learned that they had both been taught by Kvasir, who had supposedly taken his own life upon finding no one who could match his intellect. That didn't sit right with him; the wise Kvasir lived to pass on his knowledge and could find a lively conversation with anyone no matter how clever they were. He had told Sigyn of his suspicions but she refused to speak of it. The more he thought about it, there were a lot of things she refused to talk about.

"I want to see how many flowers I can weave into it, is that so terrible?" he replied innocently and added another violet, he was up to fifty seven.

"I do not mind the flowers. It's the spiders that generally cause the problems."

"Well you're practically asking for it by wearing it down all the time. A trickster can only resist so much." he wanted to tell her that her hair was like a river of tarnished gold. He wanted to run his fingers through it like he had done the other night; only instead of comforting her while she cried it would be in an embrace.

"I must wear my hair down until my wedding day, as well you know. You simply have a bizarre fixation with women's hair."

"Well I'd hardly call it bizarre."

"You cut off all of Sif's hair, she was completely bald. It was mortifying." Loki smiled; he knew the Vana were very protective of their hair as they believed it to be the source of their magic. They would never cut their hair or trim their beards and would wear it loose until they were married. A shorn head was the mark of murderers and thieves.

"You laughed, that makes you partially responsible. Plus she claimed her hair was fairer than yours, I was just eliminating your competition."

"You never quite know where the line is, do you?"

"Lines are boring. Rules were made for breaking, and if we were married I would never let you braid your hair, even if it reached the ground."

"Sigyn?" he called out again, although his voice had lowered itself to Thor's familiar bellow. "Sigyn, are you all right?"

She looked up in terror and he saw that her face was streaked with tears, tears that he had probably caused but she had been too proud to show him. He quickly ignored the guilt that twisted his heart at the sight of her.

"Thor? How did you know I was here?" she said warily with a barely guarded terror at the thought of being discovered. He might have used his disguise to fool her a little longer but there were more important things at hand and he had hurt her enough that night.

"Not Thor, my dear, something far more useful." He dropped the helmet into her lap and felt the subtle change in his body as he returned to his Aesir form. She scrambled to her feet and he could see the astonishment on her face.

"Loki? How is that even possible?" she cried, clearly impressed. Even through her fear and hatred of him she was still amazed by his magic, the thought warmed him. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought.

"Tell me, how much do you know of Sigurd Fafnirsbane?"

"He slew the dragon Fafnir and returned his cursed gold to Asgard."

"Ah that is the part everyone remembers, but Fafnir was not born a dragon, and the gold was not his cursed treasure." He explained. "You see, the Tarnhelm is a most powerful relic, it can grant invisibility to all who wear it but a more skilled sorcerer can use it to change form, not by mere illusion but a true transformation. Sigurd was said to have been so skilled in its wielding that he was able to use it to travel between realms."

"And once you learned of this, the first thing you think to transform yourself into is Thor? That's not telling at all…" Sigyn raised an eyebrow and Loki felt himself flush with annoyance. He had thought himself above comparing himself to his brother now that he had shunned his former family, but old habits were hard to shake.

"That is of no consequence. Do not ask me how it was done, it simply happened. The Helm of Dread has many properties but it will take me a while to master them. Now I have an idea that might be able to get you what you want but I will need time, and we do not have much of it left if we stay here. If the stories are true and it is able to change a man's form then I have good reason to believe that its third enchantment is also real."

"It might not work. They are only stories after all."

"I have every confidence that it will. Now we will need a place to hide while I discover its properties." He said "And I know the perfect place."

To be Continued...