Chapter 6

It was noon by the time Loki left his bed roll, no one blamed him or dared ask what had caused him to scream the way he had the night before. Loki barely nibbled on bread, pale and wan, eyes red from crying, mild bruising from lack of sleep clinging to the underside of his eyes, hair messy and he was still in his night shirt and pants. Thor did not force him to do anything, simply petting his head, occasionally whispering in the Jotun's native tongue, the words too soft for them to hear, but it seemed to slowly ease some of the sorrow that seemed to cling to their normally bright and mischievous Frost Prince.

Sif packed their belongings as Volstagg and Frandal helped repair some of the damages done to the houses while Hogun and a few others went to see to the fields. By the time everything was done, Thor leaving every once in while to help where he could, the five friends bid goodbye to Hugun's friends and family before they used the teleport spell Frigga had given them to return home. Upon landing, Frigga was waiting for them and without anyone saying a word she took Loki into her arms where for the second time in less than 24hrs he broke down into heart-wrenching sobs.

No one knew what to say or how to comfort, him so they left him alone. For weeks, Loki ate very little, slept even less, but then one day the household awoke early to the scent of the morning meal, but it was not the usual affair that was made, the air was warmer, richer with spices that were new and enticing. Jalan bolted up from her pile of gold, Frigga slowly crawling out of her comfy nest of furs and pillows, both very confused as to who was cooking seeing as Frigga was just getting up and none of the maids cooked so early in the morning. Everyone slowly crept from their rooms, wondering who was cooking and what it was that they were making, it smelt heavenly.

When they got down stairs, Thor was still in his Beast form, laying lazily in the doorway to the kitchen. That only meant that it was Loki who was cooking and seeing Thor there, they did not dare to peek into the kitchen. Having no other choice than to get ready for the day, they all trudged back up to their rooms. Loki hummed as he carefully stirred the thick creamy potato porridge, checking on the bread in the brick oven slowly rising and browning into a lovely golden crust. He had Thor bring him back a young black boar, gut and clean it before Loki carefully placed it onto a spit and spelled it to spin slowly over the flames throughout the night, rubbing it with ground spices: salt, freshly cracked black peppercorns, thyme, rosemary and basil. A honey glaze coated it, but that was mixed with some spices he summoned a shadow to fetch from Earth, saffron, ginger and dried jalapenos, all grounded into fine powder to mix with the honey. He made jasmine rice, with freshly picked jasmines, boiled water for tea which he then left to cool and steep for a few hours, adding fresh sugar cane sticks and lemon peels to it and flash froze it to once more slowly thaw over the next couple of hours.

All the while as he cooked, he let his mind wander to his childhood, barely taller than his mother's knee, standing on his tippy toes to try and see what it was his mother was making, what smelt so wonderful! How his mother would magic him a tall stool to sit on with a cute little apron to wear as he got to help her by kneading fresh bread dough, carefully sorting out the beans, later on as he got bigger, cutting up fresh vegetables, slicing raw meats into specific cuts or poking holes into the meat to stuff carefully made balls of herbs and spices. He learned all he could by helping her, they would be filthy by the time the meal was ready and always smiling like they won a war. He could see his father's fondly exasperated face as his brothers would laugh and fluff his hair to get clouds of spices and flower out of his hair.

Sometimes when they were cooking together his mother would teach him songs she's learned as a child, from her early years of traveling all over Midgard, folk songs, lullabies, which now that he thought of them were very disturbing, songs of love, songs of sadness or ballads of war. He couldn't help but start humming as he finished cooking, pulling the bread from the oven to cool and sit as he put in a tray of stuffed rolls into the oven to cook. The boar was ready, he dispelled the spit and with a flash of his eyes, the boar fell to pieces on a large serving platter, all the meat, bits of the fat and chard skin with it, the rest left for the dogs to enjoy. Walking over to where he where he had the bread sitting, he sliced it into even cuts and lightly brushed them with an herbed butter and carefully piled them with the pulled meat and crisp lettuce and sliced tomatoes.

By the time he was done with everything, it was about the regular time for everyone to be up. Thor seemed to snap awake then, giving a wide jaw cracking yawn as he shook himself out of his beast form and into a man. Loki blushed hotly seeing the naked man, all glorious golden skin and thick muscles, not an inch of fat, fading scars decorating his flesh and what a glorious cock the man had. Loki felt his quim moisten, the strange heat that followed seemed to roar bright and threatening to burn him from the inside out. Thor turned, unaware of the condition he left his poor charge in, allowing the Jotun Prince to get an eyeful of that wondrously muscled ass.

Loki now understood what his mother meant by she hated when his father walked away, but loved to see him go... She had an obsession with his father's backside, now he knew what she meant. He had this itching urge to run up to Thor and smack one of those firm cheeks. Thankfully Thor was gone when Loki let out a shrill squeal and collapsed to his knees, a hand pressed to his bleeding nose as he panted and tried to fight of the dizziness threatening to make him pass out. Spelling the rest of breakfast to finish itself, he grabbed a clean rag, wet it with cold water and held it to his face, willing it to stop blushing, for these... these perverted thoughts to leave his mind, but it seemed the Norns wanted him to suffer more for even with his eyes closed, hidden behind the island counter, he could see Thor's naked body clearly. If Thor were a Jotun... Loki would have to beat others away with a pole to keep them from claiming his Thunderer!

Gasping, he jumped up, looking shocked by the thought, but as he had jumped up, he banged his head on the underside of the counter ledge, giving himself a nice little bump. He hissed and grumbled at the counter like it just stole his favorite pudding.

"Loki?" Thor's voice could be heard and Loki jumped up again, blushing brightly as he saw the man fully clothed, hair still damp from a quick rinse. "Are you alright? I smell blood."

"I'm fine!" He squeaked, hiding the bloody rag behind his back. "Just a mild nosebleed! Nothing serious!"

Thor gave him a look, but then he shrugged, "Your rolls are burning."

Loki let out a scream and ran to pull the rolls out, they were darker than he wanted them, but after a quick poke of a thin twig to check the insides, he was glad they were well cooked. Once everything was ready, he asked Thor to help him carry everything to the dining room. He was a bit shocked to see everyone already waiting for the meal, table set and all. Setting out the platters, it took the two three trips to get everything on the table. Once done, Loki began to serve everyone and gave the okay to begin eating. Everyone took a cautionary bite, not worried about being poisoned, but wary of the food smelling heavenly only to taste terrible, but that was not the case. Flavors exploded over their pallets and made their mouths water.

"Oh my word!"

"Mother did you try this?!"

"Loki, please show me your secrets!"

"Wow, this is better than anything I could ever make... I don't know if I should be jealous or bow to a master?"

Loki blushed as everyone gushed and flattered him, he glanced up at Frigga who was staring at her plate, a blank look on her face. Jalan was poking at one of the stuffed rolls as Thor blinked at his own plate.

"I- is this not to your liking?" he mumbled, making everyone pause to stare at three who had yet to try the wonderful meal.

"No, it's not that... Just... where did you learn to cook? I thought Jotuns avoided flames like the plague?" Frigga wondered.

"Oh! Oh, no we enjoy warmth, and a nice fire in the hearth! And my... my Atara. Ever since I could remember she was always in the kitchen, cooking and singing... I would come into the kitchens and try to see what it she was making, try to stand on my toes or climb the cupboards until she would magic a stool for me to sit upon and watch, later one an apron to help cook. As I grew, I learned all her recipes and secrets... Atara was a wonderful cook and I felt I've mourned her passing enough and decided to celebrate the gifts she gave me by making a meal for my new family..." Loki admitted, sniffling softly as he tried yet again to feel his mother's magic, but where the tingling cool flow of magic should be completing their link, there was only emptiness.

"I'm sorry." Frigga placed a hand on his hand and he smiled softly.

"You need not worry. I'm sure if she were to see me like this, she'd grab my ear and drag me to the stream and throw me in, demanding I stop moping about and being a lazy bag of bones. She was something else. Father said she was not always wrapped well in the head, she claimed that she was never boring." Loki laughed.

"She sounded like an interesting being." Jalan commented, grabbing a roll and biting into it, blinking in surprise. She did not eat human food often, it was normally bland or poorly made, besides she preferred raw meat fresh from the kill, but if Loki cooked more often, she would not be opposed to eating what he gives her, if only to sample. Frigga tried the porridge and was in love with the creaminess. Thor still did not touch his food, merely watching Loki poke at his food a moment before sitting up with a bright smile, grabbing the pulled boar sandwich and dunk it into his bowl of porridge and take a hearty bite, smiling even as tears sprung to his eyes.

But he continued to eat, smiling and laughing even as he cried at the reminder of the most beloved person in his life. When Loki was halfway through his meal, Thor began to eat finally and purred low in pleasure, the meal was wonderful, the flavors layered and savory, blending nicely without overpowering one another or the pallet. The rolls were full of fruits or vegetables and eggs, the iced tea was refreshing and sweet, with a nice zing from the lemon peels. By the time the meal was over, there was hardly any left over, but still Loki was paid more compliments, playful offers of marriage if he cooked like this daily. Frigga, when she was full to burst declared a lazy day for all and ordered everyone to the living room, magicking everything to clean themselves up and to pack away the left overs to later.

Once everyone was sitting in the living room, she asked Loki to share more stories of his mother and his family. And like that they spent the day learning of the Royal Jotun family and all the shenanigans they got into on a daily basis. Stories of his mother's temper causing the most terrifying of warlords and kings to cower like pups, tales of his brothers and him romping around in the vast tundras of their home, 'adventuring.' Regaling them with side splitting stories of his father going from the terrifying Warrior King to a panicked and worried mess whenever Loki and his brothers would vanish for an adventure, forgetting to tell someone where they were going. How his father sent out the whole army of Jotunheim one time when the three boys became lost in a snowstorm.

How he fretted and coddled them when they were found and brought safely home where as Loki's mother yelled and scolded them, grounding them for a month for scaring her to near death. He spoke of stories his mother told him, war stories from his father and made up tales his brothers would tell him before bed. He missed his father and his brothers and hoped they were all safe, hoped he would one day find them and try to be whole again, though they will always be missing that spot in the center where his mother held them all together...

Laufey stepped out of the other end of the portal into a simple village of clay homes and farmlands, the people all of various shapes and colors stopped to see him. He looked down at his hands as he felt the tingle of magic. His blue flesh being replaced with a warm tan, his great size shrinking to nearly half his full height, still a very tall man, but not obviously so. He felt the tickle of hair and grabbed the locks to see they were deep metal gray and black. He was not sure what his color his eyes were, but he knew they would no longer be the familiar red on red he was use to seeing, even his groin felt strange, but he would not check here before many strangers.

"Hail, Lord Ice King, mate of the Drifter, Lady Ryilia Nubia." A man greeted him. "I am Lady Nubia's Man in waiting, Glade. I shall serve you as I have my lady. Come you must be exhausted and you will need those wounds treated."

Laufey followed the fairly tall man, his snow white hair blinding in the sun, his eyes when he had been looking at him were a soft amethyst purple, he also noted Elf like ears on the man but did not question it. They walked through the village, the others bowing as they passed until came to large clay house with a crystal roof that reflected like a rainbow in the sun. Stepping inside it was shockingly cool, but bright. The man led him through the rooms to the second floor and opened a door, bowing his head low as he gestured for Laufey to step inside. Laufey did so and gasped.

"Who- who are you!?"

"I have many names, much like your wife, but if you must call me something, call me Serene, it means Star." the woman said looking at him, turning from where she was sitting on the bed. "There is something we need to discuss, Laufey-King: your wife and your youngest child."