Prodigal

Ch. 14

~S~

~s~S~s~

Something wasn't right…

These words kept nagging at the back of Thor's head, but for the life of him, he could see nothing wrong. If anything, everything was perfect.

The horses were off a few yards nipping at grass and nickering to each other, saddles and harnesses removed so that they may enjoy the warm sunshine on their coats. They didn't even bother with a blanket, instead opting to sit on the soft, spring grass, their food laid out in soft cloths between them. The bubbling stream of water before them was a calm presence, its rushing water not unlike the adoring babble of a child.

Something wasn't right…

'But how can anything be wrong?' Thor thought.

He looked beside him at his brother. Loki paid Thor no mind, seemingly captivated by the nature surrounding them. Not surprising really – his brother had always had an odd fascination for nature, something Thor never fully understood. True, he had a very intimate connection with storms and lightning, but what Loki had with nature overall was something so much deeper.

Something wasn't right…

"Brother?" Thor watched as Loki seemed to come back to himself, turning his emerald eyes onto Thor.

"Yes?" he inquired.

Thor made as if to speak, but his words caught in his throat. He frowned. No, this wasn't right. Something about this situation was wrong. Like something was missing…

Or rather…something that should no longer exist was here.

Thor blinked, staring at Loki oddly. The Trickster God quirked a dark brow at Thor, as if confused. Yet those shrewd eyes held a sense of knowing in them. He blinked once, slowly, cat-like, before averting his gaze to the apple held in his hands.

"You are gaining perspective…" he said, turning the apple this way and that in his hands. Thor blinked dumbly.

"What?" He asked. Loki hummed thoughtfully.

"Tell me, Thor," he started, "What is wrong here?"

Thor frowned. "Nothing is wrong here. This is a wonderful picture. We have not gone traveling together by ourselves in…"

He paused, brows creasing. How…long had it been, again? Since the two brothers had packed up and gone traveling together? Two years? Five years? Maybe ten?

'Over fifty years…' Thor shook his head, startled.

"I believe it has been quite some time." Loki shrugged. "But you are not answering the question. What is wrong here?"

Thor swallowed, suddenly uneasy. "I…do not understand."

Again, Loki hums and brings his apple to eye level, staring at its smooth red surface curiously. His eyes narrowed, and a spark of bright green flashed in his eyes. The apple suddenly rippled, its color draining and form wavering grotesquely. And in its place, a black snake was found wound around Loki's wrist and hand. It hissed, as if agitated. Yet Thor could swear it was laughing.

"What was it you said once, brother?" Loki asked, cocking his head at the snake. "Some do battle, and others do tricks?"

Thor's eyes widened in both parts shock and bewilderment. When had he ever said that?

'Wait, no, I DID say that…' He thought.

But when? When had he…

Thor looked up as Loki chuckled, not even realizing he had averted his gaze to his lap. Thor stared at Loki, not even realizing – or perhaps not caring – that they were no longer in a forest, but in the empty throne room of Asgard.

And Loki sat upon Odin's throne.

He smiled at Thor, but it was not like his usual smiles. It was not a sneer of disdain, nor a smirk of smug knowing. It wasn't even a sarcastic quirk of the lips.

This, Thor realized, would be the first time Loki had smiled at him in pity.

"Snakes do not lie," Loki started, the snake in his hand slithering between his hands. "They do not blink, and so they cannot be lied to. I have often been called a snake…"

He looked down at the snake in his hands, as if studying its black scales and emerald eyes.

"Yet they call me the God of Lies," he said, "I have to wonder, Thor. Do you see me as a snake? Or a liar?"

"I…" Thor could say nothing, too dazed and baffled to form any coherent thought, let alone a word. Loki sighed.

"I lie, I cheat, I steal, and I bring chaos and unrest in my wake," he said wearily. "But I am also like a snake. I cannot be lied to. And yet, if I am a snake, I cannot lie…"

He suddenly scowled.

"But I have been lied to," he said, "A lie is like a rat. It all starts with one, but if given time, that rat will build and breed with another lie. Those two lies will converge into one. Soon they will breed more and more lies…

"And soon enough, you will have an unstoppable infestation. Rats bring disease and famine; they destroy everything in their wake to satisfy their great hunger. You may have started off with one lie to one person, but it will always end with a thousand rats and two thousand people. And it will always end in pain."

Thor swallowed thickly, his brain slowly putting the pieces together. This wasn't right, that was obvious by now. But with how slow his thoughts were, his meager logic stifled as if walking through molasses…

It crashed into Thor like a runaway horse.

"This isn't real…" he breathed in disbelief. "This is a dream…"

"Is it?"

Thor's eyes focused back on Loki – or rather, the person that had spoken and now sat where Loki once was.

Thor gasped, taking a step back as Odin stared down at him from his throne. But that was not why Thor gaped at Odin.

No, he gaped at his father because of his face. Or rather, his covered eye.

Of which was no longer covered, and boasting the empty, gaping socket of where his eye used to be.

"Fa-…father…" Thor choked out.

Odin seemed to glare, his single remaining eye narrowing, while the gaping hole beside it only warped grotesquely.

"Rats are lies…" Odin suddenly grumbled, his body shuddering briefly.

Thor shouted out in shock, nearly tripping over himself as a rat peered its head out of Odin's eye socket. It squeaked and hissed, wriggling violently until it fell out of Odin's head. But it was soon replaced by another rat. Then another. Then another.

"Rats are lies…"

Thor cried out as the whole room seemed to flood with rats – they came from every nook and cranny of the throne room. From under tiles, behind pillars, behind drapes, cracks in the stone, and especially from Odin's eye socket.

"Rats are lies…"

The rats swarmed Thor, the Thunderer tripping over himself and landing on his back on the floor with a dull thud. They bit and scratched at his body, tearing into his clothes and armor like termites to wood. Thor tried to fight them off, grabbing and tearing them from his person, but there were simply too many.

"Rats are lies…"

Thor gasped as a particularly large rat crawled up to his face and started clawing at his mouth. Terror overtook Thor, and he forced his lips tight and his teeth clenched together.

"Rats are LiEs…"

Thor's heart pounded in his throat, the rat finally working his lips back, and now trying to force his mouth open. The Thunderer was paralyzed, his senses and control over his own body leaving him. He panted through his nose, eyes screwed shut as his jaw weakened, his mouth opening the tiniest bit.

"RaTs ArE lIeS…!"

The rat reeled back, about to plunge down Thor's throat. But it stopped, and a startled shriek rose up from the hoard of rats. His eyes snapped open, the only part of himself he had any semblance of control over.

What he saw almost made him wish he never opened them.

The snake protruding from his chest hissed and writhed, snapping at the rats and spewing venom. Lurching from the bloodied gash in the center of Thor's sternum, it whipped up and clamped its mouth over the rat trying to get into Thor's mouth. The rat shrieked as it was bitten, the venom within the sharp fangs dissolving its insides into wretched sludge.

The rest of the rats hissed and bristled, backing away slightly from the stunned and paralyzed Thunderer. Thor panted in terror and confusion, hands stiff and shaking against the cold floor.

The snake hissed once at the rats, before turning to look at Thor. The Thunderer could only gape at the snake, once more oblivious to the sudden change in scenery. No longer were they in the cold, gold gilded throne room, nor were they even in Asgard.

Thor now lay in a snowdrift, the sky dark with night, filled to bursting with starts, galaxies, and milky ways. A green moon hung over him, only bright enough to light up the single spot Thor lay in.

Sensation returned to Thor, and he suddenly knew he was no longer paralyzed. But he did not dare move, too stunned and confused to even move a muscle. He was staring up at the snake in an obvious sense of fear, as if he expected it to clamp down on his neck and destroy him from the inside out.

But the snake did not move. It only stared at Thor, unblinking – unable to lie, and unable to be lied to.

"Rats are lies…"

Thor startled, but no sooner calmed as the words were spoken not in Odin's voice, but in the familiar baritone of his brother. He tipped his head back towards the voice, gasping at the sight of not his brother, but the Sky Traveler.

His hood was still up, his cloak covering his body like a soft shadow. Thor could only stare at the upside-down Sky Traveler, the mysterious man of no face or known origin, the man he had pursued into this icy realm on an adventure Thor could not truly recall.

He spoke again, continuing where he left off. "Snakes do not lie, nor can they be lied to."

He reached down with a black gloved hand towards Thor's chest. And Thor watched in amazement as he picked up not the snake from Thor's chest, but an apple. The snake was no longer in his chest – there was no sign of it ever being there.

"Snakes eat rats…" the Sky Traveler said, cradling the apple in his hands. "Their venom destroys their very essence, and they willingly eat and destroy the rats that embody lies."

Thor blinked dumbly as the Sky Traveler slid gracefully to his knees, pushing under Thor's head until the back of his head rested in the strange man's lap. A crescent flash of white was seen within the hood; the Sky Traveler was smiling.

"We cannot do what snakes do. We cannot destroy lies like they can," he said softly, "You have been fed lies all your life, Thor. And the snake trapped inside you is now free of its prison. It lay knotted and helpless within your breast, gnawed on by the rats you consumed without question…"

He moved the apple to one hand, holding it within Thor's line of vision.

"You have a choice now," he said. "Take it back, let it fight the lies Odin breeds. Or go back to eating rats."

He presented the apple to Thor, holding the bright fruit – once red, now green – inches from Thor's mouth.

The Sky Traveler said nothing, and Thor himself could not say anything either. Instead, the Sky Traveler picked up one of Thor's hands, and placed the apple in it before pressing the hand and the apple to the Thunderer's chest. His gloved hand squeezed his hand, pressing the apple against his chest. His free hand came up to brush some of the errant strands of blonde hair from Thor's forehead.

"It is your choice," he said calmly. "But you will never see me if you do not take it back. You will never regain what you have lost, and what Odin and all of Asgard has driven way."

"Wha…" Thor finally found his voice then, shocking himself. "I…I don't…what did I…?"

The Sky Traveler did not reply at first. But after a moment, he seemed to sigh, a puff of white fog leaving his hood.

"I still miss you," he said, "I still cannot hate you. Yet, I cannot yet forgive what you have done to me, brother."

Brother…?

Thor blinked, before something in his head seemed to click. He lurched, trying to sit up, but the Sky Traveler – no not the Sky Traveler – held him down with a firm hold.

"You must make your choice, Thor," he said, "And you must make it soon. Time is running out."

"Lo-" Thor choked on his own words, trembling, his body once more too heavy to move. The Sky Traveler brushed his hair back once more with a familiar touch Thor had not felt in over fifty years.

"I do not hate you, Thor," he said, "Remember that. No matter what you choose, I cannot hate you."

The Sky Traveler – no it's him it's him it's him – stood suddenly, leaving Thor sprawled on the snowy ground and clutching the apple to his chest. The gentle snowfall around them seemed to pick up, waking from its lazy fall and erupting into an irritated howl.

"Make your choice, Thor." he said, before he turned and started walking away and into the tundra.

"Lo…!" Thor gasped, turning his head to follow the Sky Traveler's steps, but unable to give chase. His free hand trembled, as if frozen from the cold. He tried to reach out, but his arm simply would not cooperate. Snow piled over him, burying him in the deepfreeze of the tundra.

"Lok…!"

White gathered around his eyes, the snow unrelenting, unforgiving. The Sky Traveler's form grew smaller and smaller the further he went, until he finally vanished within the frigid cloak of winter.

Thor gasped a sob, his sight finally vanishing as the last bit of snow buried him under its blanket.

~s~s~S~s~s~

Thor lurched with a strangled gasp, flying up and into an upright position. He gasped for only a moment before nausea churned in his gut. He did not have even a moment to feel confused or shocked, as he lurched to one side and emptied his stomach of the previous night's contents.

He groaned, his vision swimming and his head stuffed full of sludge. His tongue felt dry and swollen, nearly gagging himself. Shuddering, he fell back onto the plush surface of his bed. By the Norns, he was so hungover. He didn't even remember what he did last night, let alone how he got back to his chambers and into bed. One of his companions must had scraped him off the floor of a tavern and taken him home.

Well, he knew one thing for certain – he was not getting out of bed today. He didn't care if Odin scolded him or if Frigga tried to use her motherly force. He was just going to lay here in his bed, and slowly die via hangover.

Or just sleep. Yes, sleep sounded nice about now.

"I see the hangover has set in." A gruff voice grunted.

Thor startled, cringing as his head seemed to throb in adamant protest. That…didn't sound like anyone from the palace he knew of. It was familiar though, so who…?

Mengloth, his hungover mind supplied.

Thor gasped, sitting back up again and forcing his eyes open. He no sooner yelped and covered his eyes with one hand and held his forehead with the other. He groaned, his head pounding and his gut clenching.

It took all his strength to open his eyes just slightly, and take in the scowling visage of the Jotun healer. Said Jotun seemed to roll his eyes at Thor, grumbling about lightweights and stupid younglings.

"You made quite a fool of yourself at the feast." Mengloth grunted.

Thor blinked, brows furrowing in a moment of confusion. But the momentary amnesia suddenly seemed to flee from his mind like a startled bird. A wave of hot/cold washed over Thor as mortification and horror came over him in a flush of blood over his face. The sudden rush of the red fluid, laced with the sickness of a hangover, nearly sent Thor to purging again.

Mengloth, who seemed to notice the sudden flood of memories in Thor's expression, was not the least bit impressed. He only sighed in that way only a man who had been dealing with this his whole life could, and picked up a small cup from the bedside table.

"Drink this." He grunted.

Thor was in no shape to argue or feel insulted by the healer's brazen attitude, and took up the small cup with a shaking hand. He sat up slowly and carefully, groaning through the vertigo and the churning of his stomach. He eyed the thick, yellow fluid in the cup and cringed.

"Just drink it, Brat Prince." Mengloth sighed, waving a hand deftly. The vomit on the floor beside Thor's bed froze and then seemed to disintegrate into nothingness. Mengloth then turned back to his work table to supposedly mix up more of the strange, and quite frankly disgusting looking concoction. "It will cure your hangover and settle your stomach."

Thor sighed, withholding a scathing comment on Mengloth's continued use of 'Brat Prince'. Trying not to look at the nasty contents of the cup, he quickly tipped it back and swallowed it down. He grimaced; it tasted just as bad as it looked, but the effects were almost immediate. Like a fire extinguished under a boiling pot, Thor felt his stomach cease its nauseous bubbling and churning. His headache also seemed to temper down somewhat, but not completely.

He looked down at the empty cup in surprise, his vision no longer oversensitive.

"This is…effective," he said in a small amount of awe. Mengloth grunted in a manner all cranky old men seemed to do.

"Of course it is, I'm the one who made it." He snorted. Thor was almost amused by the mild pride in the other's voice. "Though I must say, with how much we hear of you Aesir and your overindulgent drinking habits, one would think you could hold Jotun wine better. It's not even our strongest drink."

His hangover dissipating, Thor somehow managed the mental strength to feel a tad insulted.

"We are not accustomed to your drinks…" he defended. It was a weak argument, and he knew it, but he felt some form of comeback was needed.

"So I gathered," Mengloth said, turning back to Thor with a bowl of the same hangover remedy in hand. "Though you seem to have recovered quicker. Your companions have not even awoken yet."

Thor blinked, before he turned his head. He almost groaned at finding his obviously hungover companions in the same beds in the same medical room as they had woken in before. It wasn't like they haven't been to a healer's numerous times a day, but to be brought in for being so inebriated? That was just embarrassing. Although thankfully this time they were all fully dressed, and only missing their coats and boots.

"Why are we not in our rooms?" He inquired.

"Because I am not a maid and am not going to make a journey out of tending to you and your companions," Mengloth said with all the finesse of a drunk one-legged bull in a china shop. "As much as I don't wish to see my healing rooms decimated, I'd rather you lot be here so I can reach you quickly and not make a trek to and from the guest wing."

It was odd how Thor felt like he should very well feel insulted, but all he could feel at this moment was stunned. He blinked owlishly as Mengloth went over and checked his companions over, filling Aesir sized cups like Thor's and placing them on their bedside tables. Once done, he went back to his worktable and placed the rest of his remedy in a flask.

"I must store the rest of this for later. If your friends wake up, tell them to drink it or else." And without another word, the old Jotun marched for the door and closed it firmly behind him. The click of the lock was heard next.

And once more, Thor could only blink dumbly, his head in a strange haze of confusion. Slowly, he turned his head to look down at his hands in his lap. His fingers clenched into the thick fur sheets, and his brows furrowed.

He felt like he was forgetting something. Something about snakes…

~s~s~S~s~s~

Mengloth grumbled to himself as he locked the door behind him, not trusting the Aesir to behave themselves. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif had already shown their thoughtless reactions to waking up in a strange place with their enemy, and he did not want to be found in the crossfires for a second time. Although Thor at least seemed complacent…

He frowned, almost scowling, as he faced the main healing chambers. He growled and crossed his arms.

"Angrboda, I may be old, but I am not senile." He grunted.

A low, husky chuckle was heard, before the space next to the doorway rippled and shimmered. Out of seemingly nowhere, his cloaking spell now dropped, a young Jotun appeared beside Mengloth.

He was young, perhaps around the same age as Thor, yet he boasted a mature countenance that spoke of a much older soul. Lean yet fit, his skin was a deep blue that was slightly lighter than most Jotnar. His eyes seemed to glow a wine colored red with a few faint dark pink shades in the iris. He wore the traditional Jotun garb of knee high leather leggings, his skirts asymmetrical and composed of supple leather and woven fabric. A green sash was wrapped around his hips and tied off into a flowing knot at his left hip, holding a sharp dagger against the knot. A leather cord was tied to his kilt, and held what appeared to be small potion bottles and flasks. A single black leather pauldron covered his right shoulder, its belt extended to cross over his chest to meet the waistband of his skirts. Matching leather vambraces studded with jade adorned his wrists and forearms. Horns that twisted like curved dragon horns sprouted from his temples, still dark with youth at their bases.

What was odd about this Jotun though was his hair. It was a bright, rich red not unlike the clotted blood of mortal and Aesir. It hung loose over the Jotun's head and shoulders, a dizzying mess of waves and a few errant curls, and just reaching down between his shoulder blades. A few small plaits were woven into the wild waves, as well as a few green stones. It nearly matched his eyes perfectly, cancelling out the clash it may have had with his blue skin.

His only jeweled adornment was a simple silver ring around his bicep, holding a single light red pearl.

He was a good-looking Jotun, and he carried himself with a hauntingly unbreakable sence of purpose. He was shorter than the Jotnar of Utgard, perhaps standing around ten feet tall, but he was no runt. The Jotnar of the eastern woods, the Ironwood, tended to be shorter than their more rugged cousins, but held equal strength.

He had been one of the few remaining magic users of their realm before their prince had come back. He had also been the strongest, and even now could only be bested by the prince himself.

Angrboda, undeterred by Mengloth's scowling, crossed his arms and leaned his back against the doorframe.

"How are the Aesir?" He asked. His voice was a bit husky and low, but not as deep as their prince's.

The healer grunted, brushing past the Seidr-user to make his way to his medical storage.

"Patient confidentiality." He said simply.

Angrboda followed the irate healer though, his bare feet soundless on the stone floor.

"So they are doing well then?" He asked.

Mengloth almost growled, but had long since learned that giving the youngling any sort of acknowledgment would only encourage him. Angrboda was not a nosy Jotun, but when he wanted to know something, he got the information one way or another.

Though Mengloth suspected he wanted to know about the Aesir more for their princes' sake than any errant form of curiosity.

The elder Jotun entered his office and pulled out a key from his robes.

"If you simply must know," he drawled, "They are fine. Hungover, but fine. The Brat Prince is the only one who has woken so far."

Angrboda hummed as Mengloth approached a narrow door hidden behind a tapestry. Unlocking it, he shuffled in with Angrboda on his heels. Normally he would throw a fit at anyone besides himself setting foot into the room, but for now, the old healer let it slide.

Angrboda wasn't the only one with questions after all.

Bypassing the numerous shelves of dried plants and other oddities used in healing, Mengloth approached another door which held the elixirs and potions that needed to stay cold. He mumbled a spell to unlock the freezer and opened it, depositing the remedy inside.

"What have you figured out?" He asked.

Angrboda tore his eyes away from what appeared to be some kind of dried up lizard in a jar to look at Mengloth's back.

"Nothing interesting, sadly." He sighed. "It has been confirmed by the numerous sources in the rumor mill that Thor and his companions had simply gone on a quest to get the Thunderer out of Asgard and back into the realms. Their coming here was purely accidental, as Loptr can testify."

Mengloth hummed, rearranging some of the bottles in his freezer. "Anything else?"

"Not much." Angrboda shrugged. "We're sending them back tonight anyways, so it's not like we need to run an investigation. Odin has forbidden all Aesir entry to our realm. He can deal with the Thunderer and his sheep himself."

Mengloth snorted. "I see someone is in a mood. I take it our dear prince was a bit irate last night?"

Angrboda scowled. "Watch your tongue, healer. And if you must know, he is not so much angry as he is anxious. He wants them gone as soon as possible – not that I can blame him."

Mengloth sighed, closing his freezer to face the younger Jotun. He could tell Angrboda was just as anxious as their prince, if not more so for his potential mate's safety. His rigid stance and shifting eyes were a dead giveaway to his true feelings on the matter.

"I do not think they will go home so quickly," he said.

Angrboda's eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"

"I doubt it was Laufey or Fárbauti's idea," Mengloth started, "But I hear talk of using the Aesir to our advantage."

"What? Laufey King would never keep them prisoner for a ransom. It's too risky, and we don't even need or want anything from Odin." Angrboda said in confusion. But Mengloth shook his head.

"Not as a bargain, he would never risk such a thing," he said. "I am talking about using them in a more diplomatic sense. They only saw our realm once, during the peak of our famine and decline. Now with our realm in higher spirits than it has been in thousands of years…"

"You honestly think us giving them a tour of our realm is going to change their minds, and therefore be used to educate the rest of Asgard?" Angrboda almost sounded scandalized at such an outlandish idea.

"I never said I agreed or found the idea favorable, but it's better than simply sending them off," Mengloth said with a roll of his eyes. "And besides, with the blizzard last night, the nearest Path has been buried and needs to be dug out. It will take all night, and I'd rather they be out of the palace should they get restless enough to start breaking things."

The redhead sighed, rubbing his forehead. He had to give it to Mengloth, getting the Aesir out of the palace and away from the royal family was better than waiting for the entire palace to collapse under their brutish hands. And from what he had gathered, Thor had at least seemed to take in the new views of the Jotnar a bit more gracefully than his companions. It was honestly better than nothing – best to change a prince's mind about something than someone with little to no influence on others. It didn't mean he found the idea any more appealing though.

"Well then, when will they be ready for a tour?" He asked.

"After they have all awoken and eaten," Mengloth said, eying a jar on a shelf and pushing it slightly back with a finger until it aligned with the others. "Laufey has agreed to this tour and will be assigning a few guards, as well as a couple tour guides."

"I see," Angrboda drawled in a bored manner. "And who are the unfortunate souls who get to play tour guide?"

The young Jotun nearly shuddered at the smirk Mengloth gave him. His eyes narrowed as the healer planted his fists on his hips and regarded Angrboda smugly.

"Why, Loptr Prince's best Seidr student of course." He said.

His smirk only grew when Angrboda's entire body locked up in a tight stance, his jaw clenched and his fingers clawing into his palms.

"You would have me alone with those Aesir heathens?" He growled.

"Of course not, I said there would be a couple of guides," Mengloth said.

"Well who else will have to suffer with me?"

"I said a couple."

Mengloth's smirk dropped when a jar of rare dried roots exploded beside the blank faced Angrboda.

Eh, it was worth it…

~s~s~S~s~s~

"If I hadn't sworn to our Dam to protect you with my own life at all costs, I would kill you."

"And if I hadn't sworn to our Dam not to use my own magic against you, I'd freeze you to the spot and make sure you never left…"

Loptr groaned, trying and failing to ignore his larger, looming brothers. He could only roll his eyes and strap his belt to his skirts as he got ready for the day.

"For Norn's sake you two, it's only going to be a tour of the city." He sighed.

"And this is supposed to comfort us, how?" Helblindi asked with crossed arms.

"And why can't we come with you?" Byleistr almost whined.

"Because, Dam and Sire need you two here in case something comes up," Loptr said calmly. "And besides, King Malekith will be here this evening, and if I can't make it back in time, you two will need to welcome him in my stead."

"But he's old…"

Loptr scoffed. "Byleistr, Mengloth is old. King Malekith is anything but old."

"But he treats us like little kids!"

"Considering his age, we are little kids to him," Helblindi piped in. His youngest brother scowled at him.

"Just please, be on your best behavior." Loptr implored wearily. "We need this alliance, and Malekith is a good man and king. There is no reason to make an enemy of him."

"Easy for you to say…" Byleistr pouted. "Even before you came home, you knew Malekith."

Loptr nodded slightly without a word. It wasn't exactly a secret that, before coming to Jotunheim, he had traversed every realm he could through the Hidden Paths. Svartalfheim had been one place he had come to appreciate for its people and its knowledge. Malekith had, of course, been suspicious of him at first. But after a few hundred years of learning darker magic under the Dark Elf, it became apparent that Loptr was not up to spying on them for Odin.

The Dark Elf was quite strange, if slightly unhinged in a less than traditional sense. He was cunning and sly, his strength and prowess in battle belying his true age. He was vicious on the battlefield and firm as a teacher. And when he was not fighting on the battlefield or in the political arena, he was a strange, yet oddly benevolent man with a great weakness for all manner of games.

Loptr, then Loki, never would have guessed that his pre-established history with Malekith would lead to such a great alliance, as well as the freedom of Asgard's binds on the Dark Elves themselves.

'Tonight will surely be a grand celebration…' he thought with a small smile.

"-and why did they pick you? Surely Dam is not alright with leaving you alone with Thor and his ilk." Loki finally came back to himself and caught the last snippets of Helblindi's words.

The small Jotun did not turn to face his brothers. "It was not his or Sire's idea to send me."

"Then whose idea was it?" Byleistr asked.

Loki sighed. Well, better to be honest now than to have his ears chewed off by his brothers finding out from someone else – namely their Dam or Sire.

"The plan was my idea," he said, "And it was also my idea to conduct the tour myself."

He mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of outrage. And he was not disappointed.

"What?!"

"Are you mad?!"

"Why in Hel's name would you suggest such a thing?!"

"And why would you actually go along with it?! Do you know how much danger you can be in if you are around those heathens?!"

"It's obvious they dislike us, even hate us! Think what they could do to you if you're alone with them!"

"Enough!" Loki snapped, whirling around to face his brothers.

The two larger Jotnar did not flinch, but they did quiet down. Loki's jaw clenched in a scowl, but it soon softened as he took in the concerned expressions of his brothers. He released a calming breath through his nose.

"I know it's risky," he said, "But this could help us. It's a small chance, but if we can at least convince one of them of how twisted their views are on us, it will be worth it. Hel, if we can change just Thor's mind, and he goes back to Asgard with this new knowledge, things could be better for us in terms of our relationship with Asgard."

"You are putting much faith into a man who hurt and abandoned you." Helblindi snarled.

The elder Jotun soon regretted his words as Loki flinched and looked away from him. Beside him, Byleistr fixed him a scowl that could shatter a mountain. Helblindi's lips tightened, and he slumped in his seat somewhat.

"I'm sorry…" he said softly.

"No," Loptr said just as softly, turning his head back to look at his brothers forlornly. "You are right. I am putting much faith into Thor now. And quite frankly, he does not deserve it, nor do I expect him to exceed my expectations…"

He paused, fiddling with the decorative leather strips of his skirts.

"But perhaps it is just my selfish hope," he said with a sigh. "Perhaps…I just want closure. I want to see if he has changed, or if now is the time I can truly let him and all of Asgard go. Perhaps I just want to be proven wrong – that he has not changed, and that it will be easier to let him go."

The two larger Jotnar across from him shared concerned looks. It was no secret that, while Loptr was beyond happy where he is now, he still could not fully let go of the few ties he had to Asgard. Letting go of people who scorned and hurt him was not easy, but he managed it. He even managed to mostly let go of his anger and bitterness towards Odin, and he even managed to forgive Frigga for going along with his lies. But Thor…he was a contradiction. For most of Loptr's life, the Thunderer has been both cruel and kind to him. It was beyond confusing for Loptr, for he could not decipher just who Thor was from both sides. One day the Thunderer was protective and kind to him, and the next he is laughing along with his companions as they belittled him for his gift in Seidr.

And of course, there was simply those times where Thor was just not there for him. Those times where it seemed as if Thor did not even recall or hear of the atrocities Loptr was put through. Those days were the worst, as while Loptr went about his day in physical and emotional pain, Thor was oblivious and as merry as ever. All of Asgard could be whispering of the torture and pain Loptr had gone through, and Thor would not hear a thing.

Eyes narrowed, Loki turned towards his vanity, and to the pendent sat upon it in front of his mirror. His hands clenched tightly as he gazed upon it.

That one piece of jewelry had given him a large chunk of closure on numerous things, many concerning Thor himself. But he still he needed more. He needed to see for himself if anything had changed.

He needed to see if Thor was still willingly eating the lies Odin fed them both…

"I won't be alone," he said to his brothers. "Angrboda will be with me, and we will be going through the city. If anything happens, thousands of Jotnar will see and likely come to our aid if they even think of trying something."

"Angrboda…" Helblindi grumbled. Loki smiled.

"Come now, Helblindi, he's been courting me for nearly a year now," he said.

"More if you count all that flirting you both did in the past fifty some odd years." Byleistr smirked cheekily. Loki rolled his eyes.

"Still. I don't like him, and neither does Sire," Helblindi said. This time both Loki and Byleistr scoffed.

"Sire hates anyone who shows a remote romantic interest in Loptr. It's what Sires do, I guess," Byleistr said.

Helblindi sighed, shaking his head. "Regardless, I don't trust them."

"I do not trust them either, but sometimes we must take risks." Loptr said, braiding some of his hair back from his face.

"…Loptr, you do realize what could happen if Thor finds out, right?" Helblindi asked seriously.

Loki paused in his braiding, eyes narrowing.

"Yes, I know," he said.

"I'm surprised he hasn't recognized you yet," Blyeistr said, reclining in his seat. "I mean, you don't look much different, except you're blue. So either he's that stupid or he's blind."

Loptr hummed while Helblindi smacked Byleistr upside his head. He ignored his younger brother's outraged exclamation, and did not even react when his burly little brother tackled Helblindi to the ground in an impromptu wrestling match.

He sighed, heading for the door to leave.

"Some rats carry diseases that cause blindness…" he said, before he left his room to his brawling brothers.

To be continued…