Fandral spotted Loki off to the side of the training ring at exactly the wrong moment to be distracted. It was only the briefest hesitation, but Hogun pressed it to his advantage and swung low, striking Fandral in the side and nearly bringing him to his knees.
"I think we're done here, don't you?" Fandral said, clutching his side.
"If you say so," Hogun said. Whether he was agreeing or complaining, Fandral couldn't tell.
Either way, he got up and trotted uneasily to where Loki stood.
"Don't touch me," Loki said, though he made no effort to step away.
Fandral stopped short, unsure what to make of the command.
"Oh, you can hear me," Loki said with surprise.
"Of course I can hear you. You're standing right here," Fandral said, suspiciously. It could have been be another spiteful trick.
"No I'm not," Loki said simply.
Fandral narrowed his gaze. "You are," he said. "I can see you. You're right here."
"I'm in bed," Loki said. "I didn't expect this to work. It didn't before."
Even more unsure than before, Fandral reached out to touch Loki's arm. Instead, his hand passed straight through Loki's flesh, as though he were a ghost.
"I told you not to do that," Loki said irritably.
"Magic?" asked Fandral.
"Of course." Loki suddenly looked very smug. It was a look Fandral was well familiar with. He looked round, but no-one else appeared to be paying attention.
"No-one else can see you, can they?" he asked.
"Not if I've done this right," Loki confirmed.
"Oh, go away." Fandral attempted to give Loki a shove, but again his hands met no opposition. Determined not to be the punchline to more jokes, he turned to walk away instead. "You're not as funny as you think you are."
Loki waited for Fandral to walk away before returning his consciousness to his corporeal form. For a long while, he lay in bed, trying to work out why things hadn't gone as he'd intended. Fandral hadn't even given him a chance. Perhaps he was just distracted and busy. Loki would just have to try again. If he was lucky, he could catch Fandral on his way to the dining hall for supper. Loki sent another shade of himself to wait outside Fandral's chambers, hoping that he hadn't already missed him. He only needed to wait a few minutes before Fandral came to his rooms to clean and dress for supper. He saw Loki waiting and made to push past him.
"Still not here, I see?" Fandral asked when he failed to make contact.
"This is easier," Loki said.
"I'm sure it is." Fandral unlocked his door and held it open expectantly. "Coming in, then?" he asked.
Loki considered it briefly. "I can't," he said. "It's too difficult."
"That's what I thought," Fandral said, turning to disappear into his rooms.
"Not like that, you idiot," Loki said quickly.
Fandral stared at him. "Are you coming in or not?" he asked, still holding the door open.
Loki shifted only slightly. "Moving is difficult."
"Right. Try this again when you can be bothered to get out of bed," Fandral answered. He let the door swing shut behind him.
Loki returned himself to his room in an outrage. What right had Fandral to be angry at him? What right at all? Fandral had been humiliated only because he'd done the same to Loki first. Loki got vindication, and plenty of time had passed to put the matter behind them.
Loki simply wouldn't stand for it. He hauled himself from bed, sore and stiff from drink and disaster in other realms. He took just enough time to tie his hair back behind his neck and make sure his clothing was straight before making his way down to the dining hall. He hadn't put in an appearance at supper since returning from the chaos in Niðavellir, and his entrance was met with more than a few stares.
He took his place next to Thor, ignoring his brother's greeting. Odin hardly paid him any attention as supper began, and to Loki's right, Baldur ignored him entirely. Loki disregarded them as well, waiting for Fandral to make his appearance. When he finally did, Loki rose quickly.
"Fandral," he said.
"By Bor's testicles, what the Hel do you want now, Loki?" Fandral demanded.
"I think we should talk," Loki said simply.
"And I think you should leave me alone." Fandral made to walk through him again, swiping his arms at Loki's face as he stepped forward. Instead, he found a solid body before him. Loki managed to dodge the blow to his face, but Fandral still collided with him hard. Before either could react, two Einherjar came as if from nowhere and dragged Fandral away from Loki.
A petty, vindictive part of Loki was pleased to see he'd managed to once again get the best of Fandral, but it wasn't what he wanted. Already, it felt like a hollow victory.
"Leave it," Loki commanded. "He won't do it again." He turned to glare at Fandral, feeling every eye in the hall turn on them. "Will he?"
Fandral glared right back at him. "No," he said finally. "I won't, my lord."
His words were insincere, and everyone near them could hear it, but protocol had been followed. The Einherjar released their hold on Fandral, but stayed close in case they were needed again.
Loki ignored the lot of them and turned his back to leave. He intended to walk out and lock himself in his chambers for several weeks, but another idea struck him instead. He walked up to Volstagg, making his presence known by putting himself directly between Volstagg and the man he spoke with.
"I wish to learn to fight," Loki said. "Properly. We start tomorrow."
It took Volstagg several attempts to find his words.
"Uh. Yes. At your command," he managed.
"Good." Loki inclined his head to Volstagg and his conversation partner before turning to leave.
For all his time spent in a woman's body, toying with the court as Amora, Loki had never allowed himself to explore an area that burned him with curiosity. He was tired from training and needed a break from it all.
He was done with Fandral. He'd tried to make peace and received only hostility. If Loki wanted answers to these new questions, he could not seek them on Asgard. Not with Fandral still so bitter. He had other options, of course. Asgard was not the only realm with loose morals. Loki could simply seek his answers elsewhere. Álfheimr had always been particularly accommodating, but it also was becoming a bore to return to the same place every time desire struck.
There was a new world being established; one of which he had heard many a tale, but had never seen for himself. The only problem was in getting there. He knew many ways of travel, but none could be entirely reliable. He could only safely take himself to places he already knew. Travelling blindly could get him lost, or worse, land him inside a wall or somewhere equally unpleasant.
There were hidden paths as well, like the one he and Thor accidentally discovered between Álfheimr and Niflheimr. But finding one that would take him where he wanted to go could take years.
There was one last resort; a finale, simple solution, but Loki hesitated to take it. Two months on one of Midgard's endless seas could easily turn into a death sentence. There would be none present strong enough to go after him should he fall in again.
Then Loki realised there was another way to travel across the realms. One so obvious he'd almost forgotten it completely. One way or another, Loki would be leaving that day; whether for England or somewhere new, he couldn't know. He quickly packed his travel bag, sparing only a moment to decide to leave his armour behind, and made his way to Heimdall's observatory.
The Gate Keeper stood at the edge of the rainbow bridge, gazing far into the unseen distance. As Loki approached, Heimdall looked down and apparently straight through him.
"Prince Loki," he said evenly, not turning his gaze to properly address him. "What brings you here today?"
Loki had only spoken to Heimdall a few times before, and something about the towering warrior at Asgard's gate seemed to almost silence his tongue. It took him several moments to find his voice.
"Heimdall," Loki said finally, straightening his stance and lifting his chin. "I understand the Bifröst does not remain in one place on Midgard."
Still gazing into the far distance, Heimdall nodded almost imperceptibly. "It does not," he confirmed.
"Can you tell me where it lands now?" asked Loki.
Heimdall seemed to shift his gaze, but only the smallest amount. Where he was looking and what he saw, Loki could only guess.
"To know where the Bifröst lands, I would have to open it to that realm," Heimdall said. "To do so is against the Allfather's command."
"But is it, Gatekeeper?" Loki asked quickly. "The decree was that none should travel to Midgard, was it not? It says nothing of opening the Bifröst. Does it?"
Heimdall's gaze seemed to narrow, and Loki got the distinct impression that he was being glared at.
"No," Heimdall admitted finally.
"So you would not be breaking any command to open the Bifröst and tell me where it lands," Loki said. He moved to stand a bit more stiffly against the winds coming off the sea. Only Heimdall knew what lay at the bottom of Ginnungagap's spiralling torrents, and Loki wasn't exactly keen on being the second person to find out.
"No," Heimdall repeated.
He hesitated only briefly before turning to the observatory itself and stepping up onto the dais. Loki followed him inside and stood to one side, watching patiently. With little ceremony, Heimdall drove his sword into the pedestal at the centre of the dais, bringing the Bifröst to life. The walls around them spun and whirred fiercely as the Bifröst orientated itself to Midgard.
It was open only a few seconds before Heimdall removed his sword and recalled the power of the Bifröst.
"The Bifröst touches an ancient land, long forgotten to our people," Heimdall said.
Loki felt his heart sink. Had the Bifröst really moved so quickly across the realm that it had already returned to the frozen wastes of the Norsemen and the Sami? How blindingly unfair, he thought.
"This land is far to the west of where the Bifröst once landed," Heimdall continued. "Across a vast sea, in the land that was once known as Vinland."
"Vinland?" Loki asked quickly. He'd read of it only briefly, but he had also seen the maps. "Open the Bifröst again. I wish to leave immediately."
Again, Loki felt Heimdall glaring at him.
"As you said yourself, travel to Midgard is forbidden," Heimdall said.
Loki silently seethed at having his own words used against him. "I have been travelling there for years, and my father knows it," he said, trying to anticipate the next thoughts of a man gifted with Nornir sight. "I will go even if you do not open the Bifrost to me. As it happens, the Bifröst is the safest and quickest route to my destination. How badly do you imagine my father would punish you if I were harmed on my journey because you denied me safe passage?"
"I am only doing my sworn duty to my king," Heimdall said at once.
"Tell me," said Loki. "What are the conditions of Midgard's seas right now?"
Heimdall looked back at Midgard, taking a long moment to consider what he saw.
"You would return to that realm if I deny you passage?" he asked.
"Without hesitation," Loki confirmed.
"And you would attempt to cross ill-tempered seas despite the dangers they present?" Heimdall asked, returning his gaze to the present, though averting it from Loki.
"I know no other way to reach my destination," Loki said.
Heimdall considered this for only a moment longer. "Then I have little choice," he said, resigned to his course. "I break my oath to my king only to protect his son."
He turned back to the pedestal, and as he re-awakened the Bifröst, Loki grinned to himself. He hadn't expected it to be quite so easy to manipulate Asgard's Gatekeeper.
As the Bifröst rose to full power, Loki stepped into position. He hadn't much chance to travel it, and hadn't been expected to be pulled off his feet by its power. In just a few moments though, it was all over. He stumbled gracelessly as he touched ground in a flat valley covered with rime and frost. Recalling the maps he'd seen in the library, Loki took the time to orientate himself. The New World was south of Vinland, and many hundreds of miles away. But Loki could travel quickly; crossing the distance would be the matter of days. He simply found south and set off, slipping into one shadow and out of another on the distant horizon.
After the unexpected summons from Heimdall, Thor rushed to meet Loki in his chambers, but he did not expect the sight with which he was greeted. Loki always returned straight to his chambers from whatever trouble he found himself, and standing at the large oak desk, Thor suddenly understood why.
Loki appeared out of nowhere in a flurry of curses and laughter. Though he still resembled Loki, with familiar pointed features and unusual green eyes, he wore the form of a woman, with a slight frame and long, raven hair. The dress he wore was torn, but most alarming was that he was shackled at the wrists and ankles, keeping his hands bound behind his back and his legs unable to run.
"Loki!" Thor rushed to his brother's aid, but in this form, Loki was confusing. Thor didn't know if he had been cursed or had done such things to himself. Either way, Thor didn't want to touch him.
"A little help?" Loki asked, chuckling when he saw the look on Thor's face. Even his voice, while still his own, was light. "There's a book on the second shelf, bound in blue leather. Fetch it."
Relieved by this task, Thor nodded and rushed over to the bookcase lining the opposite wall. Few of the books seemed to be titled, but Thor found it quickly enough. The cover was bare of any markings at all, but the inside pages were filled with a hand-written Dökkálf dialect.
"Loki, this is black magic," Thor pointed out.
"Rather fitting, seeing as I was just condemned for witchcraft," Loki said. "There's a table of contents somewhere."
Thor frowned as he flipped through the pages. "What orc did you steal this from?" he asked, finding the requested page and holding it up for Loki to see.
Loki scanned the page Thor showed him. "Why do I have to have stolen it from anyone?" he asks.
"What makes you think you can? You're not an orc." Thor frowned down at the pages he held open for Loki.
"No-one's an orc," Loki reasoned. "They all died in the war."
"Even Father cannot perform this magic," Thor pointed out.
"Maybe he just hasn't tried hard enough," Loki said off-handedly. "Page two-forty-eight, and not another word out of you."
Thor flipped through the pages and held the requested one up again. For a few quiet moments, Loki studied the page.
"Ah. Of course," he said quietly.
It took him a few moments to go from theory to practise, but the spell wasn't too different from the one he used to travel; the magic was just focused on a smaller scale.
Closing his eyes and breathing steadily, Loki focused on the shackles on his wrists and willed them to be somewhere else. After a few attempts, he finally felt something catch and the shackles slipped right through his flesh with a sharp chill, before falling noisily to the floor.
"That was easy," he mused, smugly.
He did the same to those binding his ankles and kicked them aside in disgust. Wasting no time, Loki made a quick path to the large wardrobe in the corner, stripping himself of the ruined dress along the way.
"Loki!" Thor cried indignantly.
Startled, Loki spun round to see what had alarmed Thor. He found his brother unable to decide between staring wide-eyed at him or averting his gaze entirely. There were several seconds of confusion before Loki looked down at his bare chest and remembered his breasts.
"Oh, honestly," he said, putting his hands on his hips and turning to face Thor. "It's nothing you haven't seen before, surely."
"Not on you, no," Thor insisted, still not sure where to look.
Rolling his eyes, Loki let go of the spell that changed his shape, slowly transforming back to his natural self. His skin slowly darkened a marbled blue and black as his entire body shifted its shape, going from female to male. Thor had seen Loki change his skin before, but this was something else entirely. Loki's hair was also the longest Thor could remember having ever seen it.
Thank you," he said, all the same.
Thor had no sisters, but he was certain that if he did, he would surely not be allowed in her chambers while she dressed. Instead, he had three brothers, in the presence of whom he had dressed, bathed, and slept every day for the first twelve years of his life. And now one of them appeared to be both.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" Thor asked, kicking his toe at the discarded dress. "Does Father know about it?"
Loki kicked the dress away into a corner as he found a pair of breeches that still fit him.
"Because it amuses me," he answered as he pulled on the breeches and tied the laces in front. "And I don't care what Father knows."
"You would care if he found out," Thor reasoned. "It would not be the first time you started caring after Father gave his opinion on the matter."
"Then don't tell him and he won't find out," Loki said.
He walked across the wide room to the mirror on the wall, taking a long moment to study his reflection.
"Do I look different to you?" he asked.
"You look like a woman with your hair like that," Thor complained, frowning , at the loose plait that reached the small of Loki's back. It looked completely out of place his male body.
"That is not what I asked," Loki said. He leaned in close to the mirror and glared at the places on his forehead where heavy dark lines looped back upon themselves , half-obscured by his hair. He was almost curious enough to consider shaving his hair to the scalp to see where they went. Almost, but not quite.
"I think Eir was wrong," he said.
"Wrong about what?" Thor asked, stepping close to see what Loki was staring at.
"Everything," Loki said.
He slashed at the mirror with his hand and turned away to start walking through the room, upsetting items and tossing some of his more durable possessions about until the tidy, un-lived in feel was gone. One day, he thought, the servants might realise that their efforts were not appreciated, but it clearly was not that day.
"What do you want, Thor?" Loki asked as he tossed the heaviest blanket from his bed onto a sofa.
"I was hoping to speak with you," Thor said. "Heimdall said you had found trouble for yourself, so I figured you would be home shortly."
His bedchamber properly messed, Loki fell back onto his bed and picked up a small rabbit carved from ivory.
"I did and I am," Loki said, turning the rabbit over in his hands. "Now what is it you wish to speak about?"
He carefully loosened his grip on the rabbit, slowly until he wasn't touching it at all. It stayed in place above his chest, rocking as if the slightest breath would knock it down.
Thor frowned, not sure how to broach the subject. Clearly Loki wasn't going to make it any easier for him.
"I am taking Sjálfsmynd," he said, opting for the direct approach.
Loki lost his control over the rabbit and it dropped from the air like a stone. It bounced off his chest to the floor, unheeded. "Why?" he demanded, sitting up quickly. "I just returned home from nearly being hanged. I don't want to go out again."
"It's not the same thing. You go on these trips to make mischief," Thor said. "You never return with tales of valour or sacrifice. Only… cross-dressing and thievery."
"So? That's more fun," Loki said.
"And that is not what the Rite is about," Thor said, more forcefully than he'd meant to. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "We have proven ourselves warriors on the hunt, and now it is time to prove ourselves as men."
"Yes, I was there for that lesson as well, Thor," Loki said as he got back to his feet. "I still do not want to go."
Thor looked guiltily at Loki, and then looked away.
"What?" Loki asked. "What is it? I know that look."
"Father says we must take our Rite separately," Thor said. "Sjálfsmynd is a journey one must take by himself. It matters not that we were raised together. We are different men and must take different paths."
"His words don't suit you," Loki said. "I imagine he coached you on that, did he?"
Thor said nothing. He stood in silence, looking away from Loki. Loki wanted to hit him.
"When are you leaving? For a year. Without me." he asked flatly.
"Tomorrow morning," Thor answered. "I wished to wait for your return so I could tell you myself."
Loki snorted and turned his back to Thor. "And here I am," he said. "I have things to do. See yourself out."
He stood stiff, staring at the row of books on his shelf. Finally, Thor turned to leave. Loki would forgive him eventually. He always did.
Loki sat on the floor of his bedchamber, naked to the waist and surrounded by books. Every muscle in his body burned and the evening Asgardian air was sticky and hot against his Jötun skin. But unpleasant and demanding as his new regimen of training was, for the first time ever, he felt like it was finally starting to be of use.
Exhausted and sore in ways he never thought possible, he'd retired to his rooms to read up on other forms of Vanir sight magic. After so much time in the ring, the words made little sense to him. After a while, he began chewing a water hemlock root to dull the ache in his muscles. Ten minutes later, pleasantly giddy, he gave up reading altogether and spent nearly an hour flipping through pages, pausing only to look at the pictures.
"Loki."
He jumped sharply at the sound of his name and looked up to see Odin standing before him.
"Have you always been there?" Loki asked, squinting up at him.
Odin chose not to answer that. "Volstagg informs me you've started training again," he said. He was pleased to hear such news, but it seemed any time Loki took a sudden interest in anything, trouble followed shortly after. Odin hoped just once, it might be avoided.
Instead of an answers, Odin got a blank look from his son.
"He did?" asked Loki. "Why would he say that?"
Training meant preparing for the hunt, and going out into the woods with Freyr and Sif and getting stuck with sharp sticks and trampled by wild animals. Loki definitely did not want to go on the hunt again.
"Are you saying there is no truth to his words?" Odin asked.
Loki stared into the blank space in front of him as he tried to remember.
"Have you changed your beard?" he asked suddenly.
It was then that Odin noticed Loki chewing absently on something.
"What have you there?" he asked, having a strong suspicion already.
Loki took the root from his mouth and looked at it. There was something familiar about it, but he couldn't remember how it came to be in his possession.
"I don't know," he said.
Resisting the urge to laugh, Odin held out his hand. If Loki chewed on that thing much longer, at the rate he was going he was likely to forget his own name soon. As it was, it took him a few seconds to interpret Odin's request.
"You'll like it," he said, handing over the mangled root. "It's quite good. I got it from somewhere."
"Yes, I'm sure you did," Odin agreed. He shook his head at the root in his fingers. "We will try this again in the morning."
"Uh-huh." Already, Loki's attention was elsewhere.
Shaking his head once more, Odin left Loki's rooms and made his way to Frigga's, finding her by the terrace at her loom.
"Your son," Odin said as he stepped near her.
"My son?" Frigga asked, looking up at her husband. "Our son."
"When he's this exasperating, he's your son." Odin placed the root on the edge of Frigga's loom and watched as she peered at it.
"What is this?" she asked finally.
"Hemlock," Odin answered.
Frigga levelled a knowing gaze at Odin. "I remember a certain someone else having a fondness for hemlock in his youth."
Odin chuckled, somehow not surprised at being so completely called out. "Yes, and he handles himself about as well as I did," he said. "I don't think he recognised me at all."
"He's young," said Frigga, returning her attention to her loom. "Let him have his fun."
"He has other things to be focusing on," Odin said. "Other things he should be doing."
"Give him time. It is always difficult for twins to be separated for so long. He may wish to see Thor return safely before he leaves." Frigga stopped to straighten out a snag in the wool, working it out with her fingernails. "I still see no reason they could not have gone together."
Odin sat in the empty chair across from Frigga. "That is precisely what worries me," he said. "The boy will be nineteen by then. He can't have Thor fight all his battles for him."
"And nineteen is a perfectly acceptable age to go," said Frigga stiffly. She looked up at Odin again, challenging him to disagree. "We agreed we wouldn't treat him any differently than his brothers, but I think that may have been a poor decision. He is different, and we should recognise that."
"I took my Rite at eighteen, just like every other man in this family," Odin said.
"If Loki is not ready to go before Thor's return, then you will not force him," Frigga insisted. "We raised them together, but they are not the same."
Odin rose to his feet again, stepping close to Frigga. She looked up at him, defiant and unblinking.
"You heard Eir's opinion," he said. "He's older than we took him for."
"And if he were still on Jötunheimr, he would still be considered a child even now," Frigga reminded him. Though she held her seat, her tone still rose to meet his.
Odin was not to be defeated on this matter by her or anyone. "But he's not on Jötunheimr," he said. "He's on Asgard. We have our own customs."
"Have they started cutting?" Frigga asked coldly. "You were just with him. I presume you saw his face. Tell me. Have they started cutting?"
Odin grit his teeth and glared at her. "No," he admitted.
"Then he is still a child, and not ready to take Sjálfsmynd," Frigga said. "I let you have your way on the hunt, but on this I will not bend. He will go when he is ready, and not a moment before."
Sighing angrily, Odin turned back to the door. "You coddle that boy far too much," he said.
"Someone should," Frigga said, looking back to her loom, though she'd lost all desire to continue her work with it. "And it was never going to be you."
Until Loki took his Rite, he would remain a child in the eyes of Asgard. Though he was old enough to be a man, his duties reflected a much younger age. It gave him plenty of time to do as he wished, and what he most wished to do was skulk around in the shadows. Asgard was abuzz with talk of another war looming. Vanaheimr would fall in an instant, Loki knew. There was nothing interesting about the affair at all.
Perhaps his disinterest had something to do with what had started as a dull ache in his bones, but it had spread over the weeks until it seemed to all but consume him. He felt sick and stiff, as if he'd spent all day working without having slept the night before, and he felt it almost constantly. At least in the shadows, he could observe without being forced to participate.
Eventually, even the shadows lost their appeal and Loki retreated to his bedchamber. The noise of the palace made his now ever-present headache seem even worse, and it was no use asking, demanding, or even commanding that everyone be quiet for a time. His rooms were at least quiet, well out of the way of the rest of the palace.
He stretched out on the un-made bed and closed his eyes, breathing evenly. With quiet came boredom, and Loki let his mind wander.
By now, Thor had moved beyond Niflheimr and travelled the roads of Vanaheimr. Loki recognised the town almost at once and smiled to himself.
"You should go to Niðavellir," he said, letting his voice carry across Yggdrasil. "If Andvari's not in port, he will be soon. I'm sure he'll ferry you across for a price."
Thor stopped in his tracks and looked round, realising only a moment later that the voice he heard was inside his head.
"I will not," he said sternly. "And this is forbidden. You will get us into trouble."
"No, trouble is you being in Vanaheimr right now," Loki said.
Thor continued on his path, leading away from the docks.
"Or haven't you heard yet?" Loki asked.
"Heard what?" asked Thor. He passed by two men, glaring at their wary glances.
"I can hear you even if you don't speak," Loki said. "I've been practising, remember?"
Thor rolled his eyes and trudged on. There were many taverns and brothels in this corner of Vanaheimr, but he did not visit for them. Not this time.
"You should know Vanaheimr's declared war," Loki said after a moment.
Thor stopped again, this time looking for a quiet place to speak openly.
"Why?" he asked aloud as he ducked into a space between two tall buildings. "Father has been very kind to them."
"Apparently their puppet king thinks we've kidnapped his puppet daughter," Loki said. "She's obviously run away, but I think he's welcoming the opportunity to challenge Father, in whatever shape it comes."
Suddenly, everything around Thor seemed a threat. If what Loki was was true, Vanaheimr was more dangerous than any other realm in Yggdrasil.
"Why?" he asked again. "It makes no sense."
He could hear Loki laugh in his head. "I'd run away too, if I were betrothed to me," said Loki.
"Loki," Thor scolded.
"That's fine. I didn't want to marry her anyway," Loki went on. "I bet she looks like Freyr. They probably all bed their sisters there."
"Loki!" Thor repeated.
"My advice to you, Brother," Loki said, his voice suddenly serious. "Complete your quest and come home."
"I cannot," said Thor. "I have not yet found what I seek." He dared to step back onto the road, wondering how well-recognised he would be there.
"Then complete your quest and find somewhere else to be."
Thor could feel Loki leave then, as if whatever grip he held had been released. He thought on what Loki had said, and whether there might be a way to stop the war before it ever had the chance to start. If nothing else, as Asgard's crown prince, it was his duty to find out.
On Asgard, Loki found himself restless once more. He left his chambers again, this time making his way to the throne room where Odin and Vanaheimr's King Iri were speaking. Again. Loki quietly let himself in, watching the pair of them as he walked along the edge of the room. Neither man had any guards with him, as a show of good faith, but Loki knew from experience that Odin was prepared for a fight. He held his arms stiff at his side, keeping his feet apart. Iri stood to mirror him, and Loki wondered if maybe they shouldn't just hit one another a few times and settle their differences that way, since it was what they clearly wanted to do anyway. Despite this, both spoke with calm anger, neither backing down to the other's position.
"You dare accuse Asgard of this crime?" Odin demanded. "You rule because I made it so."
"What point is there in ruling if I must pay tribute with my own daughters' lives?" Iri said, stepping into Odin's space.
"It is betrothal, not tribute," said Odin. "From where I stand, you have broken our treaty. Perhaps it is Asgard who should declare war."
"What would be the point in any of it?" Loki asked suddenly. He regretted it as soon as he felt the sharp spike behind his eyes, but he repressed the wince that followed. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall as if Odin and Iri had interrupted his own musings.
Odin and Iri both turned to look at him where he stood against the wall.
"Asgard has nothing to gain from a war with Vanaheimr," Loki said. "We already own the land, even if you do rule it for us. Your armies are under our command. Who would fight your war? Or have you already broken your treaty and formed armies of your own?"
For a moment, Odin looked as though he was about to reprimand Loki for speaking out of turn, but he turned to Iri instead.
"You were asked a question," he said, folding his arms.
"And why should I answer?" demanded Iri. "He's probably the one who took her. I've heard about the things this one gets up to."
Loki rolled his eyes dramatically. "Why would I take that which would shortly belong to me anyway?" he asked. "I cannot even wed until after I've taken my Rite, so of what use would she be to me now?"
Loki stepped closer to Odin, leaning in to speak as he approached.
"Father, how do we even know the princess is truly missing?" he asked. "And that this is not all just a ruse to distract us from something bigger?"
"My daughter is missing, and you accuse me of the crime?" Iri practically growled as he stepped close to Loki.
Loki only looked at him unblinkingly.
"Perhaps instead of accusing others, you should focus on finding her," Odin said. "If I declared war every time I lost track of one of my children, Yggdrasil would never know peace."
"Then perhaps you should keep a tighter watch on your children," Iri said, glaring at Loki.
He turned and walked out of the throne room, the dark cape he wore fluttering behind him. Loki and Odin watching him go in silence, neither knowing what would happen next. Iri made his exit with the clang of the heavy golden doors.
"This could have all been easily avoided," Odin said, avoiding broaching the subject Loki already touched on. He'd had enough of fighting for one day, and did not welcome another row with Loki.
"Why does everyone always presume that I am lying?" Loki asked, ignoring Odin's remark entirely. He rubbed his temples slowly, finding it more and more difficult to ignore the ache in his skull.
Odin couldn't stop the sigh that escaped him. "Loki," he said wearily.
"I was only trying to help, Father." Loki turned to face him, his expression open and tired. "If I'm honest once more, I'm glad she's gone. She should be marrying Thor anyway."
"Thor is my oldest," Odin said evenly. "You know how this works."
"Like Hel he is," Loki said, offended.
Odin looked to Loki for only a moment before turning to walk away. "Of course," he said. "I shall have to inform Týr of this error at once."
"I'm sorry, I misheard you," Loki said quickly. "Of course Thor is your oldest."
At least with Sigyn missing, Loki would not be forced to wed anyone, whereas Sif had the annoying habit of always being where she was meant to be.
Loki walked with Odin into the weapons vault beneath the throne room, staying always half a step behind his father. He kept to the edges of the room, where the light from the fire pits didn't quite reach his sore eyes.
"When Thor returns to Asgard, it will be as a man," Odin said, stopping before a small dagger on a pedestal.
Loki looked down at the dagger, knowing Odin's intentions for it.
"It doesn't suit him," he said. "He'd accept it, but he wouldn't like it."
"And you know better?" asked Odin levelly.
Loki knew that he did. He cast around the vault until his eyes fell on something tucked away in a dark corner.
"That," he said, pointing.
Odin turned to look at the mighty war hammer and smiled. "There is a story behind that one," he said.
"Tell me?"
Odin walked toward the hammer and took it from its perch, holding it up to study the runes marked on the side. They were dwarven runes, used to work magic into the metal itself, and one of the few written languages even the Alltongue didn't know.
"Mjölnir was one of my blood-brother's finest achievements," Odin said. "Not unlike you, Loki was always finding trouble for himself. When he decided he wanted a weapon crafted by the Sons of Ivaldi, nothing else would do. Getting it nearly cost him his life."
Odin offered the hammer over to Loki. Loki took it by the handle, and when Odin let go, the hammer fell to the ground, nearly taking Loki with it. Watching Loki try to pick it back up from the ground, Odin chuckled. He knew the boy would never lift it even an inch.
"He tricked his way into possessing that hammer," Odin said, picking it back up from the floor and returning it to its place.
"Let me guess. The dwarfs were not pleased," Loki said dryly.
"To say the least," Odin agreed. "But he got his hammer in the end. He was never able to lift it, though. It took me years to discover why."
"A name curse?" Loki asked. "Those are meant to go the other way."
Odin ignored Loki knowing even that much about such magic. "I suppose they hated Loki so much, they intended to punish any who bear his name."
"Do your next son a favour," Loki said. "Don't name him for an idiot."
Thor's return to the real three days before his nameday sent Asgard into barely-controlled chaos. With the crown prince back in his place by his father's side, Midwinter celebrations began early. Everyone in the palace scrambled to be sure that everything was perfect and that the celebrations would go as smoothly as possible. As soon as it began, Loki retreated to the silence of his rooms, away from the noise and clatter. It seemed every light, every sound, every vibration made him want to be ill. It was a feeling he had managed to ignore for months, but it seemed the noise surrounding Thor's return only brought it all back to the front.
He thought he might catch up on the news of the new war on Midgard, but the stack of papers by his bed seemed suddenly daunting. He wondered what the point of it even was. The humans would slaughter one another until one side could take no more, there would be a brief peace, and then another war would break out barely a month later. Their lives were so short, they hardly had time to learn from their mistakes. In a fit of ennui, he picked up the stack of papers and threw them into the fire pit at the centre of the room.
Thor thought he might never get away from all the fanfare. After meeting with his father to explain his deeds during his travels, it seemed everyone in the court wished to meet with him as well. It wasn't until almost midnight that he was able to sneak away and ascend the stairs that led to the royal chambers.
He passed by his own doors and let himself into Loki's rooms instead. They were dimly lit, but even then Thor could see that they had not been kept up. If Loki had time to chase away the serving girls and maids, then he hadn't been doing any travelling of his own. At least not recently.
"Loki?" he called out cautiously.
He began to climb the stairs leading to Loki's bedchamber, finding the door ajar. Thor pushed it open and peered in at the mess inside.
"Loki, are you in?" Thor asked.
"No," Loki answered from the dark.
Thor frowned and pushed his way in, finding Loki on his bed beneath a pile of furs and blankets. He pulled them away to find Loki still dressed beneath them all.
"Go away. I'm not here," Loki complained.
Thor resisted arguing the fact that Loki was, clearly, there. "You will make yourself sick like this," he said instead.
He reached for a small lamp Loki kept on the shelves around his bed. It was nearly brimmed with water, with a small mesh cup suspended in the small space above the surface. Thor pulled out the pin that locked the cup in place and the cup dropped into the water, submerging the stones it held. When the stones touched water, they glowed bright blue, letting off enough light for Thor to see by.
Loki barely sat up to glare at Thor, the effect rather ruined by the hair over his eyes.
"So he went with the hammer after all," he said, eyeing Mjölnir still in Thor's grip. "Good. I was afraid he wouldn't listen."
Thor looked down at the hammer.
"Loki, how long have you been in here?" he asked.
Loki reached for the lamp, but Thor pulled it away.
"Couldn't this have waited until morning?" Loki asked tiredly.
"I wished to see you," said Thor. "When you were not there to greet me, I became concerned."
He reached out, but before he could make contact, Loki pulled away sharply.
"No," Loki snapped. The very idea of being touched made him feel ill, though he didn't know why. "Just leave me be."
Thor hesitated to leave, but Loki quickly reached out, dodging around him. He reset the lamp with one hand and pulled the blankets back over himself. As the light from the stones slowly faded, Thor reached for the blankets once more.
"Go away," Loki said from beneath the pile.
Only able to assume Loki was tired from his own adventures, Thor slowly turned to leave. He shut the heavy door behind him as he made for his own rooms. He would simply have to greet his brother in the morning.
Loki did not attend breakfast, nor could he be found on the grounds after. Finding his confusion growing to concern and worry, Thor once more sought Loki out in his rooms. Even upon returning from his travels, Loki could usually be persuaded to leave his rooms to be social.
Again, Thor found him still dressed and asleep beneath a pile of furs and blankets.
"Loki, why don't we go riding?" Thor asked as he tried to pull the blankets away.
Loki reached for them again, and even in the low light of winter, Thor could see that his usually dark skin had paled as though he were ill.
"No," Loki snapped. He pulled the blankets over him again, tucking the edges under himself to keep Thor from taking them once more.
Every inch of him hurt, but he didn't know why. Before, he'd been able to ignore it, but somehow Thor's return to Asgard seemed to make it worse. He felt he might explode if anyone dared even touch him.
"I said go away," Loki groaned.
Thor cast around the room in confusion, but found nothing to explain Loki's behaviour. The room was in its usual state of disorder, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary at all.
"That was last night," Thor said, not sure what else to say.
"Then go away again."
Thor sneered at Loki's stubbornness. "I will go away and I will fetch Eir," he said.
"Fine," said Loki. "As long as going away happens, you can do as you please."
"I will."
Thor left, angry with Loki for behaving as he did and angry with everyone else for allowing it. He stomped down the stairs and through the corridors of the palace, but he did not go to Eir's rooms. For what could he say to her? That Loki was being even more impossible than usual? Thor had been gone over a year. How was he to know what the usual even was now?
As he stormed out to the grounds, he remembered Mjölnir by his side, the mighty war hammer he had been entrusted with and told never to let leave his sight. It was a fine hammer, he realised, for smashing things. And that was exactly what he intended to do with it. He brought it upon the first obstacle he came upon; a large and ancient apple tree, empty and bare for the winter. It stood no chance against the uru metal, and shattered and fell as soon as the blow landed. Whether the crack was from the wood, or some sudden thunder, Thor neither knew nor cared. He brought the hammer down on the splintered stump, and again it shattered with a far greater sound than it should have done. Another strike, another roar of angry thunder, and all that remained of the tree was a million tiny splinters on the cold ground.
It did nothing to calm Thor's anger.
"Idunn will not be happy to see what you have done."
Thor spun round to see his father behind him, watching the scene with detached calmness.
"It is Loki," Thor said. "He ignores me. He deliberately makes himself ill to spite me. I am angry, Father."
"And so you take it out on Idunn's apple trees?" asked Odin. "These are the only happiness that woman has, and you would destroy that because you do not get your way?"
Thor looked down at the mess he'd made. Idunn had other trees in her orchard. She would not miss this one. Still, he burned with shame when he realised the control he'd lost.
"Perhaps you can speak to him," Thor suggested. "Since he will not speak to me."
"Your brother and I have not spoken for weeks," said Odin, his gaze still lingering on the fallen apple tree. "I suspect he prefers it that way."
For but a moment, Thor thought Odin might same something more on the subject. Instead, Odin turned and started to walk away.
"I expect you to make amends for this," he said.
Thor resisted the urge to bring his hammer down once more out of spite. Instead, he went to see Eir.
On Eir's advice, Thor never stopped visiting Loki. Every day, he let himself into Loki's chambers, and every day, Loki grew more and more distant and angry. The closer Thor tried to get, the harder Loki pushed him away.
Sometimes, Loki was in bed. Other times, he paced restlessly through his rooms. Nothing he did made the ache go away. The more Thor visited, the worse the ache became until it drowned everything out. Finally, he took to locking his doors to keep everyone out.
It was clear to Thor that Loki was never going to let him get close any time soon. Thor didn't have to like that, but he did accept it. There were other things he could do that might help ease whatever pain Loki suffered. He did not seem so quick to forgive Thor for leaving, as he'd hoped Loki would have been, so a peace offering seemed the best avenue. Something special that Loki could use. It took almost a month to find the right gift, and even as he searched, Thor still visited daily, even if it meant just standing outside the door and shouting through it until he got bored.
Finally, Thor found what he was looking for on Jötunheimr. The witch who sold it to him seemed convinced it would help, after listening to Thor's explanation of the the problem. He parted with five silver pieces in exchange for the squirmy little bundle, which he took immediately back to Loki's rooms. Finding the doors mercifully unlocked, Thor made his way upstairs to the bedchamber, where Loki slept beneath his mountain of furs. Thor said nothing, making no attempt to wake him as he placed the small bundle on the bed. Making sure it stayed more or less in the same place, Thor spared a glance to Loki and beat a hasty retreat to his own rooms.
Loki awoke a few moments later to something wet on his face, and a high-pitched whine in his ears. He moved to push the offending item away, but it only squirmed right back onto his face. He finally opened his eyes to see a small wolf pup before him, with fur as black as the night and eyes the colour of ice. It turned to burrow in close to him, but Loki sat up and picked the scruff of its neck. He ignored its whines and protests as he got out of bed and walked to the door, never bothered to make sure he presented an acceptable appearance. He took the pup to Thor's chambers and dropped it on the large padded chair by the door.
"This made its way into my room," Loki said. "It seems like the sort of thing you'd like."
Thor hadn't expected his offering to work so quickly, or as it did, but he had to stop himself pointing out how Loki had left his room. Doing so might only make him run back out of spite.
"It was a gift," Thor said. "I meant it for you. I thought you might enjoy having some company that didn't shout at you for a change."
Loki regarded Thor suspiciously for a moment, before returning his attention to the pup. Already, it cried at being abandoned, even though Loki and Thor were both in sight.
"It's old enough to be away from its mother, but it still needs to be around others," Thor said. "Animals that wander off too young freeze on Jötunheimr's tundras."
Loki continued to watch the pup's pathetic cries for attention, wondering what it would do if it went ignored for too long.
"Since when are you an expert on Jötun fauna?" he asked.
"I am not," Thor admitted. "I can only tell you what I was told. She said that creatures taken from their dens often fail to thrive if left to themselves for too long."
"I see." Loki watched the pup for a few moments longer before picking it back up. It quieted almost at once.
"Well, come along, Fenrir," he said, spitting out the name as if an insult.
"Oh, you have named it already!" Thor declared happily.
Loki turned to leave. "No I haven't," he said as he walked out the door.
It was another week before Thor saw Loki outside his room again, though this time he had at least spared a moment to comb his hair and see to his appearance. He had the wolf pup with him, and sat on the ground in a narrow corridor as he tried to coax the pup into eating a piece of roast pheasant. Though perhaps not quite so difficult as hand-feeding a gryphon, it was no small task. The pup would sniff at the meat Loki offered, but hardly seemed to know what to do with it otherwise.
"It's food," Loki told the pup irritably. "You eat it. Like a civilised person."
The pup became more interested in Loki's face then. It tried to climb up his chest and reached up to like Loki's mouth curiously.
"Must we do it this way every time?" Loki complained.
As it turned out, despite what Thor had told him, the pup had not been ready to leave its mother. Like many Jötun mammals, if left to its own devices, it never would have left at all.
When the pup began to whine, Loki rolled his eyes and put the bit of pheasant meat into his mouth, letting only the smallest bit poke between his teeth. He bent his head down and the pup eagerly reached up to take the meat from his mouth.
Thor watched all of this, and could not help but laugh as the pup licked at Loki's mouth for more.
"Are you that thing's mother now?" he asked.
"No," Loki said, wiping his mouth with his hand. "Shut up."
Thor sat down beside him and reached out to scratch the pup behind the ears.
"Have you decided on a proper name yet?" he asked.
"What's wrong with Fenrir?" Loki replied, trying once again to coax the pup into taking the meat from his hand.
Thor laughed again. "That is not a name," he said.
"Why not? He's a Jötun wolf. That's the Jötun word for wolf. It's a perfect name."
He tried to push the pup away from his face, but it fought against him. Loki sighed and brought the pheasant back to his mouth.
"This can't go on much longer," he warned. "You will learn to eat like a civilised person."
