Hey! I know it's been a while since the last update, but I was concentrating on finishing the most recent chapter of The Accidental Vessel. If you read that too, you're welcome and I'm sorry at the same time.

Anyway [thanks again to Buffintruda for the inspiration for the last chapter] I'll mainly be continuing straight from where the last chapter ended, aside from the last bit about Gabriel's curse coming true. Fenris as been stuck chained up for some time now, but Gabriel unfortunately won't be able to get him out immediately.

You'll see what happens.

Also, I did go back and edit several of the other chapters, staring with chapter 7. This is because I realized I've still been calling Gabriel, Gabriel, when really this whole time he's been Loki. So,y'know. Just went back and fixed that. That change will stick around for a while, until he really starts being Gabriel again.

I keep getting so frustrated because I'm writing interactions that are supposed to take place in a different language, but it doesn't sound like a different language because I have no idea what the grammar structures are so I can't even hint at it.

This is ridiculous. Bear with me if everyone sounds like they're just speaking English and not the conversation being translated into English.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

1135 AD

Thule

Underground caverns

Loki's dread grew with each step he took downwards. Fenris had been trapped down here for decades - chained down here, if his information was right. There was no telling what state he might be in.

Or if he'd even recognize Loki.

The staircase Loki was walking down was more of a rockfall with convenient footholds, which was likely only there because Woden had needed a way to get in and out without giving Fenris a literal staircase, in case he ever did break the bonds.

Given that it had been near half a century since his original imprisonment, the odds of that were looking lower and lower, but no one had ever tried to factor Loki into the equation.

And even if they had, they thought only of Loki, not the one with the real power at his disposal.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs meant that Loki was shrouded in darkness. He was too far below the surface of the island for any light to reach down, and even if some had gotten past the entrance the rockfall had too many twists and turns that blocked it from reaching the bottom.

Loki didn't know what was waiting for him.

Fenris was down there, he knew that, but beyond him...Loki didn't know what had been done to him, and Fenris had been down here a long time, long even for a god.

There was no telling what state he might be in.

There was another noise in the blackness, and while Loki's eyes automatically adjusted he only let himself make out vague shapes in the blackness.

He wasn't sure he wanted to see what had happened to Fenris.

A growl permeated the air, and a faint scratching sound of nails on stone caught Loki's attention.

"Fenris?" He asked quietly, the name loud even though it was really a whisper, and the growl stopped.

Loki waited with bated breath.

Swallowing, Loki walked forward into the darkness. It smelled about as nice as you'd expect a cave to smell, and there was something trickling over the ground - down here must be the source of the stream that Loki had seen on the surface, although he wondered why Woden had bothered to lock Fenris somewhere with a water source.

Something crunched under his foot, and Loki looked down to see the dim gleam of bones. He didn't look down again, but somewhere in the vengeful part of him there was a surge of smug pleasure at the thought that Fenris might have managed to take one of the Æsir down with him.

"Fenris?" He asked again, and got an answering whine that came from somewhere near his feet. Loki cautiously bent down, feeling something furry nudge against his toes and jerk back.

"Hey, hey, it's me," he said, slowly and quietly in an attempt not to freak the latter out. "Fenris? I'm going to get you out. Do you understand?"

Silence, except for a snuffling noise, and then the furry thing came back into contact. Loki reached down and discovered that it was Fenris's head. Odd...his mouth was open for some reason - Loki could feel the teeth.

He went a little further, and found the hilt of a sword.

Loki stopped, closed his eyes, and counted slowly in an attempt not to explode with rage and undo all the good work he'd put into finding Fenris and releasing him.

"I'm going to make it a little lighter in here, okay?" Fenris only made another whining noise in reply, so Loki took that as a yes. He let his hand fill with light gradually, stopping whenever Fenris whimpered to let the wolf get used to the light after spending twenty-five years in such a dark place.

Once the light was bright enough [no brighter than a candle] Loki was able to see that yes, someone had jammed Fenris's mouth open with a sword.

He. Was going. To murder them.

Loki laid a hand on the hilt lightly, seeing Fenris's eyes tracking his movements. "I'm going to try and take this out," He said quietly, not bothering to conceal the waver in his voice. "I need you to stay still, alright?"

Fenris nodded. Loki took a deep breath. The sword had cut deeply into Fenris's mouth, but it was nothing he couldn't heal - as long as he god rid of the sword.

This was going to be painful.

Loki winced every time the sword moved - he could see that it was hurting Fenris, but it needed to come out, and he was being as careful as he could. It was a relief when he managed to pry it out and vanish it, Fenris letting his mouth fall closed with a long whine and Loki shushing him and trying to reassure him, moving one hand to his forehead and healing the cuts in an instant.

They were so old it took longer than it should have to fix, but Fenris relaxed minutely once Loki did and shoved his head into Loki's lap, nevermind that his head was bigger than Loki's torso.

Loki wrapped his arms around Fenris anyway. "You're gonna be fine," He promised, and damnit, his voice did not crack. "Alright?"

"Missed you." Fenris's voice was raspy from disuse and Loki ran a quick hand over his throat, knowing that it was probably painful.

"I'm sorry," He whispered into grey fur. "I couldn't find you."

"Not your fault."

"It is. I'm your father." It was the first time Loki had ever actually said it out loud. He hugged Fenris more securely to himself, acknowledging it fully. They were his children, and if anyone fucked with them then he'd show them the consequences. "And I'm going to get you out of here."

"How?" Fenris sounded resigned. "I can't break it."

"Let me see." Fenris shifted and Loki moved down so he could see what had Fenris trapped. It didn't look particularly strong - from what Loki could see, it wasn't very thick, but it was pressed so tightly into Fenris's skin that the fur had worn away. There were no rune carvings Loki could vanish, just a ribbon - perhaps a literal ribbon - of an indeterminable substance, tied so that Fenris could move nothing but his head.

Loki laid his hands to it, trying to figure out what the ribbon was made of. Once he knew he could break it...but it was difficult to pin down, as if...

Damn the dwarves. There was no way anyone else had made this. Loki swore and put his hands on his knees, clenching them and looking down.

"See?" Fenris said. Loki hated the despairing note in his voice.

"Damnit, I'm not leaving you here." Loki growled. "I'll figure something out." Maybe if he could just move the links of the chain-

The metal, or whatever the hell it was, moved easily once Gabriel figured out how to move it around, reluctantly using his Grace to do so. He moved it so that it wound up and down Fenris's legs and ankles, still 'restricting' him but allowing freedom of movement. He watched anxiously as Fenris attempted to stand on shaky legs - in an ironic twist, the material acted as a brace, since Fenris hadn't stood properly since he'd been forced down here.

Loki ran a soothing hand over him as Fenris stretched, eyes slipping shut. Where the ribbon had been before was still marked by fur-less skin, but that was easy enough to fix now that there was nothing covering it anymore, and Fenris cocked his head towards Loki in gratitude, huffing a breath into his shoulder.

"I thought I would never leave."

Loki tried to smile, and wound both arms [he needed both] around Fenris's neck. "You've got me. Always remember that."

When Hel saw Fenris again, her living face crumpled and she threw herself at him in a rare fit of emotion.

"How did you do it?" She gasped, burying herself in Fenris's fur in what counted as a hug when your brother was at least eight times your size.

"Magic," Loki replied, grinning - Hel's excitement was contagious. "And a lot of luck. A few loopholes."

Hel made an indeterminable sound into the scruff of Fenris's neck [the only reason she could reach it was because he'd lain down when they first got to their meeting-place between realms] and her hand reached down, trailing over the ribbons of metal twined around his front legs. "And this?"

"Temporary," Loki assured her, his voice unconsciously hardening. "As long as I have anything to say about it."

"Good," Hel said fiercely, standing up and some of her usual demeanor returning. One of her hands remained on Fenris, living fingers curled in his fur "I'm glad you're alright," Hel said softly, and Loki was reminded that they had been siblings long before he'd been their father.

It was almost guaranteed that Slepnir already knew of his brother's escape, close as he was to Woden [and by choice, so Loki respected that, whether he liked it or not] so Jormungand was the last to find out.

Mostly because he was hardest to get to, but in Helheim, you could look however you wanted to and there was no need to worry about an enormous serpent when he looked completely human.

And it wasn't like Helheim posed any danger to them, when they could all walk right back out again with Hel's full permission.

"You're out, you're out, you're alright-" Jormungand had so far refused to let go of Fenris, and had spoken the most Loki had ever heard him say in one go. "You are alright, right?"

"Yes," Fenris growled, light tone offsetting any sting in the words. He leaned more heavily on Jormungand, making the latter stumble and sit down abruptly to keep his balance. "You're soaking wet, you know."

Jormungand was, but he still hadn't let go of Fenris. "I don't care," He said stubbornly, and Fenris huffed but didn't complain anymore.

"What about Gleipnir?" Hel swept into the hall, down from her throne, and Fenris growled deep in his throat at the name of the thing that still [technically] bound him. Jormungand glanced down at the metallic ribbon, then up at Loki.

"I can't break it," Loki admitted. "Not now. I don't know what it's made of."

Fenris growled again. "They didn't bother to tell me." No one asked who they were - the three of them could guess easily enough.

"Dwarves made it, I can tell that much," Loki continued, and Jormungand winced, hiding it behind one arm as he put his head down on Fenris's back. Hel remained impassive, her default demeanor, but Loki knew that the pronouncement must have affected her.

"Which means this is going to be difficult," She finished for him, hand tightening around her staff. Loki wasn't sure when she'd started carrying it around, but it certainly did well for creating an ominous appearance.

"Is there a way to tell what it's made out of?" Jormungand asked, raising his head.

"I can try," Loki said, but he knew that none of them believed he'd be able to do it. "Give me some time," he added, unconvincingly, and Fenris huffed again and rested his head on his paws.

"I don't mind staying like this," He said [and Loki could hear the note of melancholy in his voice]. "As long as I can move around like I used to be able to do."

There was a beat of silence during which none of them were sure what to say.

"I'm still going to try," Loki said with a sure finality, because there was no way he was going to leave Fenris like this if he could help it, and both Hel and Jormungand nodded.

"First, though," Hel said with what could easily be described as a predatory gleam in her eye, "I believe we have some business with Asgard."

1141 AD

Loki didn't go to any of his old friends or even distant acquaintances for help. Not Hermes, Anansi, or even any other of the myriad Trickster deities littering the globe who he knew would help just to be part of a bit of chaos - although, if it involved toppling someone's base of worship, they might be a little more reluctant unless they really hated the Norse.

In any case, this was his business. It was he who had been slighted in such a fashion, and so it was up to him to finish the job.

He'd wanted to stop the cycle of revenge between him and Woden, but if he was being honest it was only about Vali and Narvi and Baldur. None of them had deserved it. This? Woden deserved.

And besides, if all went to plan - and it would - Woden would have no power left to do anything to him.

They worked slowly, carefully, so that no one noticed their hand in things - if a man with scarred arms and a tendency towards wearing thick furs, or another with almost permanently wet hair and odd yellow eyes, or a woman who wore a mask and carried a staff were seen with alarming frequency over northern Europe in the following years, no one noticed that it was alarming at all.

In fact, no one noticed the frequency, and most forgot they'd ever seen the strangers in the first place.

Medieval Europe was a superstitious place to live, and if anyone did remember, they told themselves they didn't, for to humans the three people exuded an air of confidence and, most obviously, don't-fuck-with-me that instinct told them to leave, and whatever you do don't look back.

Of course, no one ever saw the fourth being, the one with wheat-blond hair and gold eyes, because the most dangerous enemy is the one you never see coming.

Really, they were only finishing what had started long ago - Christianity had taken root in the Scandanavian countries long ago, and it wasn't difficult to push here, persuade there, until very few who still worshipped Woden All-Father remained.

And, of course, with all the Viking raiding and pillaging going on for centuries, their religion wasn't very popular now that their power was fading and they couldn't force it on people anymore. They'd lost their hold on England with the succession crisis a few decades earlier - Gabriel was just making sure that they never reclaimed it.

It was easier than any of them had thought it would be, but then again, they hadn't been bothered much by the Norman religion loosing its grip of faith on the people.

Creatures of chaos could use more than belief for power.

1206 AD

Southern Greece

If you had asked Gabriel, the Crusades were a bloody and entirely pointless mess [no one seemed to be thinking about the fact that they weren't reclaiming Jerusalem, since they'd never had it in the first place, or how the Jews they were killing along the way worshipped the same God they did] but then again Gabriel was the one who had business in Heaven, and right now he was most definitely Loki.

So no one asked Gabriel, because Gabriel wasn't around to ask, and in his place Loki cheerfully drew from the chaos the Crusaders left in their wake and stirred up trouble among overly-superstitious villages, the occupants of which at one point actually tried to exorcise him, which was so pathetic it was kind of hilarious.

Among other things, of course, was gleefully watching the Norse pantheon deteriorate further, but one thing Loki hadn't expected was to be confronted about it.

"I'm honestly curious. What did Woden do?" Hermes wasn't the last person Loki would have expected to run into, seeing as this was Greece, but he certainly wasn't expecting it.

"None of your business," He retorted. "Whatever I do in my pantheon has nothing to do with you."

"You mean like destroying it?" Hermes snorted. "Remind me to never piss you off."

Loki just smiled. He didn't say anything about Hermes being his friend, because both of them knew that if the Greek tried to do anything to his children like Odin had, Loki wouldn't hesitate to do the same.

Or at least something of the same level of destruction, since the Greeks had already kind of faded.

"What brings you to Greece, anyway? You never spend time near the Mediterranean."

"Correction." Loki held up one finger. "I never spent time near the Mediterranean because I had ties to a northern pantheon and spent all my time up there. Now, no such problem exists."

Hermes rolled his eyes. "And exactly how much time are you planning to spend here?"

"I'm making it up as I go," Loki informed him cheerfully. "I have no idea."

Hermes sighed. "Fantastic," He muttered.

"Just think of the damage two tricksters could do," Loki reminded him.

"You know I'm not a trickster."

"You're the patron god of thieves. What's the difference?"

"There's a big difference between being patron of thieves and being a thief."

"Hermes, I'm offended. Since when have I been a thief?"

1296 AD

Northern Africa

Near the Sahara

No offense to Hermes [and quite a lot of offense to the other Olympians] but Greece was boring in the thirteenth century.

That, and there had been a small incident involving a few nymphs, ambrosia, Hercules' incredibly fragile ego, and the fact that Zeus could not take a joke.

But that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Loki had hurriedly booked it south around the turn of the decade.

Nope.

Nothing to do with that.

It did, however, have everything to do with the fact that Hera was really quite terrifying when she was angry and Loki did not feel like becoming another outlet for her frustration at her husband's continued infidelity. So, northern Africa it was.

Except the north was boring too, and mostly desert, so Loki kept going south and ended up in the West, where there was a very familiar lake that had once hosted a Garden that he knew absolutely nothing about because he wasn't Gabriel, not anymore.

So then he went north again, because why not give it another try and hey, camels could be pretty entertaining when you gave them the right push, and ended up in Mali.

Which honestly, wasn't that bad.

They were still extending their power, the current ruler seeking to exert his control over even vaster regions, though wisely not going north and ending up in the desert. Loki was partially tempted to track down Anansi, who was definitely in the area, but he eventually discarded the idea. Anansi wasn't that close a friend, awnyay - they'd only met all of two times - and he didn't want to attract the attention of the local gods anymore than he had to.

Gods could be quite territorial, after all.

He didn't even know how many different tribe's gods might have been absorbed into the Mali empire, or how many conflicting cultures had been brought together under a shared name - the north end of the continent alone had too many to count. Well, too many to count easily. If someone really dedicated and actually interested in doing so tried they could probably manage it, but Loki was not that person.

He was, however, the kind of person who liked to explore new things, and so Loki set off with a grin and the determination to see what Mali had to offer him.

1323 AD

Various places in the northern half of the African continent

Boring.

Loki's path meandered through Mali, across stretches of desert no sane human would try and walk through [admittedly, he transported himself over most of it, but it was always entertaining when he ran into the occasional gobsmacked merchant] and through eastern Africa, eventually down into Maasai land.

"Who are you?"

There were two children peering around a tree at him - well, one of them was. The other one was standing next to it, feet planted in the ground and spear held at one side. He was the one who had spoken, in a regional dialect that Loki had to take a moment to find the right words in.

"No one," Loki replied, smiling at the boy. "Just passing through."

The boy scowled at him, but the other one tugged at his clothing. "Come on," she said, the edge of a whine in her voice. "We're going to loose the honeyguide."

Loki raised one eyebrow. "Honeyguide?"

The boy raised an eyebrow back. "You don't know who honeyguide is?" He asked, clearly skeptical that anyone could not know of...whatever he was talking about.

"Don't talk to him," The girl hissed. "He might be an invader. Look at his skin."

There was a pause, during which both children regarded him warily and Loki stared back, equally intensely.

"I'm not trying to invade you," Loki informed them. "And I'm not an evil spirit, either."

"You'd say that if you were an evil spirit," The girl replied suspiciously.

"Probably," Loki admitted. "But I'm not."

A bird whistled above them and both the kid's heads shot up. The girl took off, whistling back and following the bird, eyes tracing its flight between the trees over their head. The boy, after a moment of deliberation between her and Loki, followed.

Loki laughed to himself, watching them follow the bird. "Ah. Honeyguide." It must have been the bird's name - although why they would follow a bird for honey when they could find it on their own was beyond him.

Ah, well. Humans. No one had ever said they made sense.

1341 AD

Southern India

Loki had skipped the Middle East entirely, deciding that it would probably be no better than Mali, and the last thing he'd expected to encounter was an entire continent full of lights.

Candles were absolutely everywhere. On windowsills, lining doorways, even lanterns hung on strings and crisscrossing from rooftop to rooftop over the street. The people all wore loose and long clothing, with the women dressed with scarves that draped over their hair and was held in place with elaborately done jewelry, or in the case of the poorer ones they simple had a red spot marked between their eyebrows.

Many places featured shrines devoted to a woman with many arms, decorated with lotus petals and the area around the statue scattered with offerings. Loki saw stalls offering food or, more popularly, dice games for humans to gamble their money away on. These were the ones that were crowded with people, playing or watching the players and cheering on the ones they liked.

The streets were crowded with people as well, though not so thickly that Loki couldn't slip past unnoticed.

Unnoticed, at least, by the humans.

"Well, well. What's someone like you doing here?" The woman was wearing a red dress, and Loki only noticed her when she started walking next to him.

He laughed. "Can't another god enjoy your festival as well?" He asked her in Hindi, the same language she'd spoken in. That had to be what it was - if it wasn't a festival, then there would be no reason for so many people to be out on the streets at night.

"My festival," The goddess repeated, stressing it. "We don't get many visitors from other pantheons."

"I don't usually find myself in India." Loki turned to her. "Tell me, what is this festival for?"

The goddess didn't smile. A thunderous noise made several people jump, and the crowd turned as one to see explosions lighting the sky in an array of color, drawing cheers from some of them and a few ripples of clapping and laughter. Several people shouted blessings - to their gods, to 'Lakshimi', their heaven, that they might do well in the new year.

"Ah," Loki said, overhearing the last one. "It's your New Year."

"Not yet," the goddess replied. "It's only Amavasya, after all. There are still two more days left in Diwali."

"Two more days of celebrating means more reason to stick around, then." Loki grinned at her, but the goddess remained stony. "I'll try not to steal any of your worshippers."

"As if you could."

Another round of fireworks went off, so many at once that it was almost blinding. When the noise and riot of color finally calmed, the goddess was gone.

Loki shook his head, smiled, and kept walking. India was shaping up to be much more interesting already.

Still India

Kartika Shudda Padyami - Third Day of Diwali

The next day the festival felt darker than the last night's festivities, and Loki was on edge through most of them - though the Indian wine certainly helped take the edge off.

The shadows were deeper, the night came quicker, and Loki noticed it all, even if he was acting like just another drunken reveler, although one not particularly invested in the faith that had created the holiday, if anyone had bothered to look closely and notice that he avoided the shrines or areas of prayer.

It was fairly early in the evening when a deep chuckle stopped Loki in his tracks, drawing his attention to a gap between two buildings where a man stood, partly in shadow.

"I'd heard we had a visitor, but I didn't think it would be one of you," he said lightly. "What is a northern god doing so far in the south?"

"Avoiding the rest of my pantheon," Loki answered honestly.

"The story behind that must be a good one." The god did not make a move to step forward. When Loki looked closer, he began to doubt that the man was a god at all.

"What are you, then?" Loki asked him warily. "A spirit, or someone under the delightful woman from yesterday?"

"None of the above." The god sounded amused. "Today is my day, and I wished to use the one day I have on Bhu Loka to see who Kali was so interested in."

"Where do you usually stay?"

"Below." The god answered cryptically.

"You would be the Bali who is so popularly mentioned." Loki guessed. Despite avoiding more religious areas, he did pay attention.

"You would be right." Bali replied. "Every year, however, some of my subjects follow me up here, so I must stay away from the festivals and keep them quiet."

"The shadows are yours, then."

"Yes. The disadvantages to ruling one of the lokas of Patala." Loki had no idea what a loka was, but he could guess that Patala was the Hindu underworld - that much, at least, was obvious.

"So you get one day on Earth a year? Bad luck."

"Oh, it's not so bad. When you lose to a god, what can you do, really? I was lucky that he decided to grant me a boon in exchange."

"What did you do before being sent down there?"

"I was a king," Bali said proudly.

"Demotion or promotion, huh?" Loki smirked. "What are you talking to me for? Go find your subjects. I'm sure they're wreaking havoc while I distract you."

"Not so fast. I'd like a name in return. Your real one, preferably, since Bali is my real name." Bali crossed his arms.

Loki tilted his head, making a face as though he were thinking that Bali was rather audacious in asking. "Loki." He acquiesced, spreading his arms as though presenting himself.

"Loki of Asgard?"

Loki smiled tightly. "Of nowhere, at the moment, but I'm surprised you know the name."

Bali grinned back at him. "I have heard of you before, Hel's-Father." The shadows bent around him and pulled him away from the light, leaving Loki staring at nothing.

He wasn't even surprised, really. The deities of the dead always knew one another on sight.

Yama Dvitiya - Fourth Day of Diwali

The first thing Loki noticed about this holiday was that there were far, far more women out and about than on the previous two days.

Of course, that might have been related to the lore behind the day itself, but Loki still couldn't be bothered to ask around and figure out what the lore actually was. He had better things to do. Like participating in the looser areas of the festival.

The reappearance of the woman - Kali - made him rethink his plans. Temporarily.

Loki narrowed his eyes and looked closer, when he saw her standing on the other side of the street. She was smiling, for one, and her dress - sari, was it called here? - was a different color. Similar, but...something lighter. More blue than red alone.

"You're not Kali." He leaned on the wall of the house the woman was standing in front of, and she laughed lightly at him. He was beginning to notice a pattern here, but so far both of the deities he'd met had been genuinely amused and not mocking him.

"How astute." She smiled. "And you remember me, and have learned my other name."

"Other name?"

"Kali is me, but I am not Kali."

Loki's mouth twitched into a grin at the riddling talk. "Are you the same person I met the day before?"

"In a sense."

"What's your name, then?"

"Parvati." She looked at him in curiosity. "Bali didn't see fit to share what brought you down here."

"I didn't tell him."

"Hm." Parvati was warmer than Kali, more open, and her emotions were easy to read. Loki's statement had made her thoughtful. "You're staying."

"If I feel like it." Loki shrugged. "But yes, unless I find a reason to leave."

A slow smile curved Parvati's face. "Then," She replied, "It seems we will have to learn how to live with each other."

...Well?

I feel like the only reason Gabriel/Loki and Kali knew each other would be if he somehow ended up in India, so I had to get him over there at some point. For those wondering about the scene with the two Maasai kids, 'honeyguide' is a type of bird that apparently will show you the way to a beehive for honey as long as you give the bird some of the honeycomb.

Read and review, please!