Chapter Four

Atum shoved two healers aside as he raced into the healing rooms. Frigga and Odin were close behind him. Freyja was speaking with Idunn in the corner, but Atum gave her no mind, hurtling through the obstacles as he went for Loki's room. He burst in to find Eir wiping sweat from her forehead, her fingers against Loki's neck. Atum stopped, his breath constricting. Loki was pale and still.

Eir looked up as Frigga and Odin stopped behind the sun-god. Her face was weary.

"He lives."

Twin sighs of relief echoed in the room and Atum and Odin both released their pent-up breath. Frigga wiped a tear from her eye and joined Eir, squeezing Loki's hand.

"What happened? He was recovering! Why did his heart-" Her voice quavered and she pressed a hand to her mouth.

Eir shook her head. "I cannot say. He started to scream... I know not the language, but he called out Balder's name and went still. I checked on him, and his heart was not beating."

Atum stepped forward, his countenance darkening with impatience. "And now? How is his heart?"

"Beating, but erratic," the healer replied. "Something is happening in his mind. I can cure physical ailments, but I cannot cast out the demons of the soul."

Atum opened his mouth, but at that moment Thor and Balder rushed in. Both looked utterly terrified. Frigga immediately pulled both of them into her embrace and reassured them that their brother lived. Balder's eyes glimmered with tears. Thor took a hesitant step towards Loki's prone form.

Ignoring his half-brother, Atum went to Loki and placed his hand on his son's forehead again. There had to be a way to reach his mind! There had to be a way to save him- Farbauti's child deserved better than a death like this.

"What is he doing?" Balder shouted, panicked. He started forward, but Odin grabbed his arm and held him back.

"I believe he is trying to reach Loki within his mind. All will be well." Atum heard the king add softly "It has to be..."

And then he was in the bleak meadow. A storm raged overhead. Loki had fallen to his knees in the field, the enormous shadow towering overhead, as he held Balder's body. The red blood dripping from the boy's throat was the only colour in the world, it seemed.

"Loki?"

Loki looked up, tears streaming down his face. His eyes blazed with anger and hatred when he saw Atum. "GO AWAY!"

Atum approached cautiously, keeping his voice low, striving to keep it gentle. "You know this isn't real, don't you? Your own mind plays tricks on you. Balder is fine, waiting for you to awaken."

The shadow laughed.

"How could even you be so cruel to say such a thing?" Loki whispered, holding the body of his dead brother closer.

"Because it is true. Balder, and Thor, and your adoptive parents are even now in the healing rooms, fraught with concern for you." Hesitantly, Atum reached out for Loki. "Come with me, and I will prove it."

A flicker of uncertainty passed across Loki's face. Before he could move, the shadow lunged. It twisted Loki away, lifting him forty feet into the air. Loki screamed, long and wordless. Atum readied himself to leap at the shadow, but stopped as he saw Balder's body above him slowly disintegrate, as though consumed by a thousand crows. And then Loki was falling. Atum dodged beneath him, casting out a net of magic to safely catch him.

The magic slowed his descent, but Loki still hit the ground. Atum reached for his arm, but he flinched away.

"It won't let me go," Loki whispered. "It will never let me go."

Atum crouched down and looked his new-found son in the eye. "It will if you believe you can defeat it. You are stronger than it, it is not even real!"

The shadow dove again, but this time Atum stood in its way. It may be an imaginary demon, but it still had physical form enough to fight! Atum drew his sword and plunged into the darkness. Instantly he felt as though he had descended into a cold, dank cave. He could no longer see Loki. A skiff of cold breath skittered across his neck.

Had he been wrong? Was this somehow Chthon once more, taking a new form, one that Atum could not recognise?

"Farbauti..."

Atum shivered as the guttural voice echoed in his ears. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the burning in his chest. He let the light flare.

When he opened his eyes, the shadow was gone. But the land had changed. Towering mountains of ice surrounded him, a blue sun shone dim in the sky, and Atum hear a familiar voice singing softly. Loki was at his feet, not moving. Atum pulled him to his feet. The boy looked disoriented.

"Where-?" he started "What is that sound?"

Suddenly they found themselves in a small, one-room hut that Atum knew intimately. A low, narrow bed was pressed against one wall, opposite to a fireplace. Between bed and mantle was strung a clothesline that held a single brown dress.

A woman sat on the bed, singing softly as she rocked an impossibly tiny bundle of blankets, smiling and crying and singing. She looked exactly as Atum remembered her. Her long black hair falling in curls and twists, her skin splotched dark with bruises, the patterned swirls on her arms and face softer, more delicate, than on most jotuns.

"Who is that?"

Atum hardly heard Loki's question. It took him a few minutes to reply. "Farbauti. Your mother."

"She... she is beautiful," Loki whispered, surprise and wonder in his voice.

"Did you think otherwise?"

"She's Jotun. I never thought that..."

"You never thought that what?"

"The stories that I always heard of Jotuns... They were brutes, uncouth, and unappealing..."

Atum growled in his throat. To raise a child and keep the truth of his heritage was one thing, but to tell him such lies about his own people? "Some are. Most are not. Odin has much to answer for."

Both fell silent as they watched Farbauti continue to sing to her child. Holding him in one arm, she wrote in a book, occasionally wiping a tear from her eye.

"She looks... happy to have me."

"Why would she not be?"

"I was not found in my mother's arms. I was found in a temple."

Atum spoke softly. "The Farbauti I knew would never willingly give up her child. She could not wield sword and was powerless to change her circumstances, but her heart was so full of love... I do not believe that she abandoned you."

"Then what-?"

As though in answer to Loki's question, a shadow passed over Farbauti's window. A look of terror came to her face. Placing the baby down, she closed the book and went to the hearth. She loosened a brick with her fingers, shoved the book into the empty space, and replaced the brick. She ran back to her baby and snatched him up protectively as the door burst open. Laufey was dressed in full battle armour and his face twisted in rage as he rampaged in, followed by a giantess.

"It is as I told you, husband," the giantess sneered. "Your little half-breed whore has given birth."

Laufey's blood-red eyes focused on the babe in Farbauti's arms. "This creature?"

Farbauti backed away. "My lord, I... I..."

"SILENCE!" Laufey roared.

He punched her in the face. Farbauti cried out as she fell, trying to shield her child. The giantess snickered. Atum stepped forward, wreathing his hand in flame, but stopped. This happened long ago. There was nothing he could do.

"You thought to keep this runt a secret from me?!" Laufey shouted. "Undersized or not, he is my get, and my responsibility. I will not allow my offspring to be raised by a half-bred slave."

Laufey's wife strode forward and ripped the baby from Farbauti's arms. He began to scream. Farbauti cried out.

"My lord, please, no! Please!"

Laufey backhanded her. He kicked her twice and she collapsed, curling in on herself, trying to protect her face with her arms. He backed away once he thought she was good and broken.

He didn't see the knife her hand curled around.

"You will not take my son from me!" Farbauti screamed, lunging forward.

The knife pierced Laufey's shoulder. The giant grunted and grabbed Farbauti by the throat. He twisted her down, straddling her, pining her to the floor. He grinned wickedly as he wrapped his hands around Farbauti's throat.

"You think you can strike at your king and not pay the consequences, wench?" Laufey roared, saliva spraying from his mouth.

"No," Atum whispered.

Farbauti freed her hand and grabbed at the knife in his shoulder. Laufey's wife kicked Farbauti in the face and then stepped on her wrist.

Atum wanted to look away, wanted to be able to reverse time and save her. But he could do nothing as Loki's memory played out. He could do nothing but watch as Farbauti died.

Laufey got to his feet, yanking the knife from his shoulder, and dropped it to the floor. He spat on Farbauti's body, and then grabbed the baby from his wife. He held the infant around the waist like a sack of flour, heedless of his cries. His wife kicked Farbauti's body once more and then followed after him.

Atum slowly walked forward and knelt beside Farbauti. Her eyes were already growing dim, and her body cold. He reached out his hand- but could not touch her. She was already fading.

"I should never have left you."

Loki knelt on her other side, looking down at her with glistening tears. "She didn't abandon me."

And then they were out of the house, in the snow, and Laufey and his wife were walking towards them. The baby's blankets had all been cast aside save one, and his thin cries rose to the ears of the unforgiving king.

"Husband, will you have the runt raised in the palace to mock me and your other wives, we who have been unable to bear children? To mock your virility? Surely those who see such a runt will think you less a man-"

Laufey whirled on her, landing a blow across her mouth.

"You question my manhood?"

"You dare strike me?" she roared back, letting a punch fly to the wound on his shoulder. "I am not one of your whores, Laufey! I am first queen of Jotunheim and king or not, if you ever raise a hand to me again, it shall be the last time you have manhood to question!"

Laufey snarled at her.

"The whelp shows his mother's mixed heritage. Would you truly present such a scrawny creature as your firstborn son? At least the girl the fire demoness gave you has strength! But two heirs, both bred of lesser creatures?"

"A half-breed daughter and a runted son are more than you have given me."

Before they could continue their argument, a young scout came running up to them. He gave the squalling infant hardly a glance before bowing to Laufey.

"Your Majesty, the Bifrost just descended to Jotunheim. The king of Asgard has brought a host twice greater than our own."

Laufey's eyes burned with anger. "It wasn't enough for Odin to humiliate us on Midgard, now he attacks us here?! Woman, return to the palace, rally our forces swiftly."

The scout bowed and ran back the way he came.

"The slave girl had brought a curse on us by bearing such a small child," Laufey's wife sneered to him. "See to your battle, husband. Perhaps a sacrifice to father Ymir's name will stave off total destruction by your ill-started war."

She turned on her heel, leaving Laufey glaring at her retreating back. He looked down at the baby and snarled. His strides long, he walked up a large hill to a giant building at the top, carved of ice and stone, splendid in the blue sun. In the temple, he put the baby on an altar before a statue carved in the image of a giant Atum recognised as Laufey's father, Ymir. Behind it glimmered the casket of winters.

Laufey turned and a young girl came running into the temple. She had the blue skin and markings of the Jotuns, but she had flames sprouting from her head like hair. It floated around her as she ran up to Laufey.

"Father! I saw the host of Asgard-"

"Angrboda! Return to the women where you belong and do not pester me."

The girl's brow furrowed. "But I saw- Odin's army marches in a straight line. You will be overwhelmed, but if you take the warriors around behind the fork in the river that leads to the white mountains and strike his back-"

Laufey let his hand fly. He hit her in the chest, so hard that she flew back several feet. The girl tumbled to the ground and gasped for breath.

"Only a coward strikes the unarmoured back of his foes. And I fear no man!"

"At least take the casket, father!" the girl cried, still gasping.

"I do not take advice from little girls who think themselves warriors!"

The jotun king stalked away, leaving the crying infant and the girl hunched over. Angrboda regained herself after a moment and got to her feet, walking over to where the baby lay on the altar. She stared down at him for a moment. The sounds of battle clashing roused her from whatever thoughts were in her head.

"I hope you die," she hissed towards the fray, and then pulled the blanket up over the baby. "Someday, I'm going to kill him."

The girl leaned over the baby and kissed his forehead. She sat down, listening to the battle. The baby still screamed.

"I'm glad I killed him," the adult Loki whispered, as he and Atum stared at the scene.

Atum nodded. "He had best be glad that you did as well... before I got hold of him."

There was a slight ripple in the scene around them, and the battle cries were suddenly cut short. The baby had stopped crying. Angrboda had moved to the entrance to the temple, and was staring out with wide eyes. Suddenly she dashed back inside, diving behind the altar. Moments later, Frey appeared at the top of the steps. His armour was bloody and scratched, and he walked with a limp. Close after him came Odin, walking wearily, an empty eye socket streaming blood down his face.

"Get the casket," Odin ordered, and Frey nodded once.

Angrboda reached out from behind the altar and pinched the baby's leg hard. He gave a cry of pain and then started to wail. Frey and Odin's heads both turned at the sound, and Odin walked over to the altar. He set down his spear and picked up the infant.

The older Loki turned away. Atum glanced at him before returning his attention to the scene. The baby in Odin's hands had stopped crying, and at Odin's touch his skin was changing. Frey had taken the casket of winters off its pedestal.

Odin's head turned slightly. He shifted the infant to one arm and lifted Gungnir. With a terrible grimace, he prodded the spear point into the shadows behind the altar. There was a stifled cry and Odin withdrew a step, surprised. Frey dropped the casket back on its pedestal and drew his sword, running forward. Angrboda darted out from behind the altar, delivering a swift kick to Odin's leg (the king probably hadn't felt a thing, Atum mused) and racing for the door.

Frey dropped his sword and caught her, pining her arms as she scratched at his face. She twisted wildly, snarling like a feral kitten. Odin stamped his spear on the ground. The temple walls shook and Angrboda stopped fighting. Her eyes widened as she looked up, and then she glared at Odin, her chin raised defiantly, although her lips quivered.

"Who are you?" the Aesir demanded.

"I am Angrboda, firstborn daughter of Laufey King of Jotunheim," the girl replied. "I demand that you release me at once!"

"Your father has lost his war, little one," Frey told her. "Your demands are useless."

"What is this baby doing here in the cold, Angrboda, firstborn daughter of Laufey?" Odin questioned, stepping forward, his single eye piercing her gaze.

The girl faltered only a little. "He is the firstborn son of Laufey, king of Jotunheim, and Farbauti his slave."

Odin brushed the girl's fiery hair with the tip of his spear. "You look half-fire-demon, girl. Who is your mother?"

Angrboda attempted to free herself, but Frey held her fast. "I have no need of any mother!"

"Apparently this baby does not either, seeing as he was left here to die."

Angrboda was silent.

Odin stepped forward. "I have never met a fire demon, Angrboda of Jotunhiem, that I have let live."

The girl's eyes widened in fear. She threw back her head, colliding with Frey's armoured chest. He released her. The girl stumbled for a second and then ran, her fire-locks flying out behind her, her feet skimming the snow.

"You did not have to frighten her, my lord," Frey said in a disapproving tone.

"Her father killed my brother, it is fortunate for her that I did not leave her an orphan," Odin replied coldly, and then looked at the baby in his arms. Whether it was by exhaustion, or because he was warm in Odin's arms when before he was so cold, the infant had fallen asleep. "You will tell no-one what you have seen here. Firstborn son of Laufey. He will be useful, in the future..."

"And so that's the truth," Loki murmured. Atum started and turned. He hadn't heard Loki rejoin him. "Nothing more than a stolen relic from the beginning."

"Odin would have taken you even if he hadn't known that Laufey claimed you as his son," Atum replied, frowning. "But men like him must justify their compassion or think themselves weak."

"Men like him?" Loki murmured, and then turned. "Or men like you?"

Atum was silent for a moment. "Men who wield the sword and take lives."

Loki turned back and watched Odin's retreating back. "Men like us, you mean, then."

Atum had no response to that. They stood in silence, watching the remainder of the memory play out. Odin carried the infant Loki out of the temple, followed by Frey, who still carried the Casket. Neither of the spectators could think of anything to say.

To be continued...