Disclaimer: I do not own Thor. I do now own a dog and a summer full of time!
They skipped worlds again. Two, three, more, Loki counted as he swallowed bile. Sven thought only about steadying his feet, and keeping away from feeling hopeless.
Rai was nuzzling Thor's horse.
And Frigga, mother of all, wife of a god, would not help.
She looked at Jane and Darcy from behind her spinning wheel with steady eyes.
Steady eyes is what Darcy would always remember. Frigga's eyes were not worried and did not feel a need to cry for the loss of two children and a husband. Darcy, too, could not cry, but only because her emotions were so full of disbelief.
"He killed Baldr," she stated, looking back to her thread, as if the fiber's running through her hand were so much more interesting than the life of a child. Two children. "And he tried to kill Thor. I have no pity for him."
"But," Darcy was about to cry now, "but my son? You, out of everyone here, should understand—if you are unwilling to help Loki than please at least help Sven!" She was starting to feel desperate, and a little hysterical. Jane put her hand on Darcy's back, hoping to calm the mother.
"You do not need my help. Let Loki take care of his own."
And with that they were dismissed.
…...
Fells was where they landed. At least, Fells is what most people had called the planet. The mountain had no name, as far as Loki could recall.
They landed at the foot of the mountain, in the midst of a blizzard, and could not tell when the portal closed. Loki, had he been feeling more like himself, would have said something witty. Instead he stared blankly at the snow. Fells. He would have never thought to look in Fells.
He didn't look at his hands. At least in the snow everything was white.
This is when Sven, rapidly, grew up. It was the painful sort of growing up, when you have to make a decision, take control, think clearly in a new situation without realizing how this will affect your life back home (if you make it home.) He knew enough to realize his father wasn't quite the same man he grew up with.
So Sven squared his shoulders, unsure if Loki would listen, but realizing someone needed to take the first step.
"Shelter," he managed to yell above the snow and wind and Loki's thoughts.
Loki nodded, unaware that his mind had been lost so deeply in himself, that his mind was digging deeper, deeper, until it was terribly far away from speaking men. He would have nodded at anything his son said.
Sven started tramping through the snow, hoping Loki would follow, Only dimly aware of all that was going on.