So! No reviews, and a distinctive decline in responses. How have I displeased you, O Readers?
It's okay, really. I just thought that, perhaps, if you dislike it, you could drop a dime in the review box and let me know what, exactly, you're not enjoying, so I can fix it.
Two hours later...
Thor, dressed in his best approximation of contemporary Midgardian attire, slung a pack of supplies over his shoulder and squeezed Loki's. "We meet at the base of the mountain when we've got them all."
Loki nodded, face set in a grim, unflappably determined frown. "You'll bring back Jormungandr, and I'll return with Fenrir and Hela. It shouldn't be difficult." Still, Grandmother's words rang through his head: No child of yours rides with me, princeling, though one may yet, in the years to come. That was so far removed from what Loki wanted for his children that he could not imagine it. No one would dare kill his children, not even Odin. No matter the Allfather's feelings towards his youngest son, Loki's children were innocent of any misdeed their father may have perpetrated, and they deserved no equal suffering.
Thor saw all of this flitting across Loki's fine features and cupped his cheeks gingerly, tipping his brother's face up and looking him in the eye. "It won't be. In no time at all, they will be reunited with you, and all will be well. No one can take this from you, my Loki."
Loki's breath hitched, lips parted, and Thor swallowed hard. In hindsight, this tactic was not well-planned, and now, so very close to what he wanted, Thor was hard-pressed not to reach out and take it. One thumb, errant and independent, slid up and stroked the swell of Loki's lip, feeling the fullness of it, the curve and the give and the alarming lack of heat, and Thor's throat convulsed. Careful, the thunderer bestowed a soft, innocent kiss on Loki's forehead and felt it smooth out beneath the pressure of his lips.
"Be safe, little one," he murmured hoarsely, heart pummeling the underside of his skin. So brutal was his pulse that he was certain it would bruise him from the inside out.
"And you, brother," Loki replied. The callused pads of Thor's fingers just barely kissed the hair at the nape of his neck, and the sensation of it did things to Loki, things he did not expect or even want from a brother.
Thor made his way towards the Bifrost, to Heimdall. No more than five-foot-six, with gleaming white teeth and equally luminous gold eyes, Thor understood the rumor that the little guard had once slept on an ear of corn. He was miniscule.
"Where are you intending to go, milord?" he peeped, pushing his helm out of his eyes.
"Midgard," Thor said. He hitched his bag up higher, smiling down at the teenager.
"I am afraid not, milord, not without an escort. 'Tis the Allfather's decree." Heimdall looked apologetic, eager to please, and Thor almost felt sorry for the boy. "You may take Hymir, milord. He is our top expert on Midgard. He will be of great use to you."
Thor huffed out his acquiescence, nodding. "I must depart now. If he is not here in two minutes, I will depart without him."
Unfortunately, Odin's scholar had arrived in forty seconds, and they departed before a minute had passed. Upon arrival, they managed to find a boat within the hour, and they set out on Midgard's rough grey-blue seas.
"There is a serpent," Thor said, squinting at the crests of the waves. "He is crimson and black, and he dwells in the seas of this Realm. We are to catch him without harming him in any way, is that understood?"
"Yes, milord." Hymir nodded, taking the other end of their ship with the utmost of resolute obedience.
For hours, they scoured the sea for some sign of Jormungandr, nets dangling into the briny deep to drag him up. For hours, there was not a tug on their lines or on the nets, not a bump on their hull. For hours, there was no sign of Thor's reptilian nephew, and for hours, he was plagued with the horrific thought that he had failed the one person who mattered most to him.
And then, a miracle, there was a tug at one line, a great scarlet-scaled head breaking the surface of the waves and a great black eye looking dead at Thor, as if it recognized him.
"That's him! That's the snake!" Thor rejoiced, delighting in his discovery like a child would, and urged Jormungandr towards the shore. He thought nothing of Hymir's presence by the line, as it was on his end of the little skip, until there was a sharp pull - a snap, a snip - and then, suddenly, they stopped moving.
Hymir turned towards him, tucking a short iron dagger into his leggings, as if nothing was the matter. As if he had not just betrayed Thor.
"What have you done?" Thor stormed over to the aft deck, clouds boiling overhead, and he roared once more, fist clenched in the neck of Hymir's tunic, "What have you done?"
"I have done my duty unto my king," Hymir croaked, face going red. "I have done naught but what was right."
Thor squeezed tighter, and the flesh of Hymir's throat bulged obscenely around the tight noose of his collar. "You have separated a child from its father, you miserable traitor. Know you not the meaning of family, of loyalty? Of love?"
"I-I love my king. I am loyal to him - "
Thor dangled him over the edge of the ship, eyes dark and angry. "You have misplaced your love and loyalty, my friend. I only hope you have done your duty unto the seas of this world, and that you will not drown too quickly." With that, he let go, and Hymir dropped into the waves, gasping and treading water as best he could. "Perhaps Jormungandr will even take you for a snack."
Waiting, as still as stone, Thor sat on the prow of the skip with his toes dangling into the waves, looking for any sign of Loki's second son. The sun set, painting the sky vermillion and violet and indigo, and still, he waited. The night was cold, to be sure, and he shivered like leaves in the wind, but he would not - could not - move, for fear of letting his brother down.
After eight days, he finally returned to Asgard, empty-handed and cow-eyed with shame.
Meanwhile, at the dawn of this journey, Loki slipped through one of the secret bridges from branch to branch, glowing with hope. He would find his daughter, his eldest son, before the day was out. He would have his family back. He would have peace.
Striding out along the Tree, he whistled - whistled, cheerful, for the first time in years. The journey from the topmost branch to the lowest root took all of four days on foot, but the distance and the soreness of his bony feet did not bother him. They did not even cross his mind; the only thought in his boundless head was of his children, again in his arms.
Four days of walking, and Loki did not hunger, did not falter. At long last, at the gates of Niflheim, Loki felt the sharp sting of his blistered soles but, wincing, he carried on until he reached a craggy great castle, dark stony spires reaching into the icy grey skies as the dimmest fires burned weakly in hearth and lantern, and was guided in by translucent shades, dark and smoky against the cold air.
Eventually, winding through corridors that looked more like underground caves and tunnels than the sleek marble hallways he'd grown up in, Loki found himself in a throne room wrought of the same dark, glassy stone that made up the entire Realm, with a small toddler seated on the throne, a strong wolf with matted black fur at her side. The little girl smiled, hands in the cub's fur and legs limp and rotted-grey, and looked up at Loki with eyes as green as his peering out of her mother's face. "Who are you?" she asked, voice high and peeping sweetly.
"I am... I am your father, Hela." Loki stepped in closer, smiling at the sight of her. She was beautiful, clever, and Loki wanted nothing more than to hug her close. "You were but an infant when we were parted, but I have found you."
Hela cocked her head, peering at him curiously. "You are my papa. And Fenny's, too?" She nodded at the wolf at her feet. "He's my big brother, mister, and I won't go without him. He's my family - he's my legs."
"Of course, sweetheart." Loki knelt at the foot of her throne, stroking her tangled black curls off of her pale cheek. "He is my son as much as you are my daughter. You have another brother between you, Jormungandr, who your uncle is bringing him home, and a half-brother named Sleipnir. He is nearly a grown stallion now, and should you require it, I am more than certain that he would love to be your legs."
Hela smiled, dimples studding her round cheeks, and she reached out for Loki, sliding into his lap. "I'd like that, Papa."
Something, warm and fragile and glittering, bloomed in Loki's chest as he clutched his daughter to it, face buried in the sweetness of her silken curls, tears trickling down his cheeks. "I would like that, too, sweetheart. I would like that very much."
Fenrir sniffed at Loki's hands, judging him, remembering, and jumped to lick his chin.
"Papa, why are you crying?" Hela leaned back, starfish hands patting his cheeks tenderly.
"Because, princess, I am happy." Loki kissed her forehead, hugging his children close. "I have the two of you back, and there is nothing I have wanted more for nearly four years now."
"I'm nearly four," she chirped, resting under the hook of Loki's chin and chewing at her knuckles. "Well. I'm three, now, which is practically nearly four. The shades have cared for me as long, and Fenny's only been here for a few months, but they take care of him as best they can."
"That was very kind of them," Loki said quietly, raking long, pale fingers through her tangled ringlets. "Indeed, very kind. But now, little one, perhaps we should go home."
"Where is home, Papa?" Hela hugs the girth of his forearm, frowning as she wonders, and Loki kisses her hair once, twice, again and again. "Because you mean to leave, but I have known no home but this."
"In truth, when I speak of home, I mean only where I currently live. It is not a home such as this - I speak of Asgard."
Hela shakes her head, squirming. "Asgard is where the monster lives, Papa. He will eat us and try to fit our eyes into his empty socket - Papa, if Asgard is home, I do not wish to leave!"
Loki held fast, shushing her quietly until she calmed. "I know - I know better than most. As it stands, Asgard is home to few who would welcome us. But one day, I will be king, my little princess. Do you understand what that means?"
"You will rule over that gilded Realm of monsters." Hela trembled, hiding in his neck.
"I will, and I will make it better. No one need fear under my rein, Hela, and when 'tis I on that throne, Asgard may well and truly be our home. Wherever I am, princess, is a home to you should you desire it." Rocking gently, Loki rubbed her sparrow-bones back and kissed her curls. "You do not need to leave this Realm yet, for now it is the safest haven you may dwell in."
Loki realised, then, that he had not thought this through. There was no sense in secreting the toddler away from the only home she had ever known, to a place just as likely to kill her as to show her kindness. The only option - the only option with merit - was to let her stay here, to visit as often as was possible and to keep her safe with her brother.
"Papa, will you see us?"
"Whenever I can, my princess." Loki kissed her little hands then, smiling softly. "I will see you as often as I can, and when I am king, we will never be apart so long again."
He spent the day with his little princess, indulging in her favourite games and teaching her simple spells, combing and taming the wild curls that spilled down her neck. For one day, and one day only, he was her Papa as he had always wanted to be, chiding her to eat more than sweets at mealtimes and carrying her on his shoulders.
And then, as it always does, the sun set and the already dark skies darkened further. Loki carried his daughter to her bed, tucking the blankets up to her chin and singing, voice smooth and low and quiet, a lullaby that sent her into slumber. Fenrir curled up over her feet, watching him, before nodding. Go, Papa. But know this - if you do not return for her, her heart will be broken. Do not hurt her so.
"I would never dream to do so. I love her, as I love you, as I love all of my children." Loki smoothed his hand over the slope of Fenrir's skull, scratched behind his ear.
Indeed. Love us enough to start looking years after we were parted, love us enough to leave us once more. Papa, I remember more than she does of you. I remember your kindness, your courage, how good you were to us. But, more than that, I remember how quickly you crumbled before the one-eyed monster. You cannot do that again, not to her.
"I will not. I give you my word."
I ask the Norns that that be enough. Now, go.
Loki stood, stooping to kiss both their foreheads before departing. It was another four days before he reached Asgard, before he saw a haggard and hungry Thor stumble away from the Bifrost with a look in his eyes akin to that of a beaten dog. "Brother? What has - "
"I lost him." Thor sniffled, grinding the heel of one massive hand into his eyes. "I had Jormungandr, for but half an hour, and then he was lost to me again, and I waited - Loki, I promise you, I waited out eight days for him, but he never resurfaced." Thor, hunched, reached for Loki in an aborted, desolate motion. "I am so sorry, brother-mine."
Loki hugged him tight, arms wrapped around Thor's broad, heaving chest. "You have nothing to apologise for. You have done no wrong. Here, Jormungandr would have been killed as soon as kept, and those are odds which no man, no matter the greatness of his desperation, would ever undertake. Until a wiser head wears the crown of Asgard, the will stay in the Realms they now call home. It is what is best." Still, Loki shuddered at his eldest's words, for so precisely did they mirror his own for months after Odin had parted them that he began, once more, to think them, ducking into Thor's body.
"You wish they could have come with you." There is no question in Thor's voice, and he hugs Loki all the tighter for the manic loathing bleeding through his wiry frame. "You think that this is your fault, but Loki, this is not a situation in which blame can be placed. If this is not my fault, then it is not yours, either." Loki, ever the good listener, melted into Thor's chest, sucking in deep, shuddering breaths.
"He was so disappointed," he finally managed. "In me. My own son... He doesn't trust me not to hurt her, not to be strong enough to take care of them, and wh-what if I'm not?"
Thor loosened his hold and Loki struggled, pulling away, until the thunderer grabbed his wrists and held him fast. Even then, Loki still fought for a few moments more before meeting his brother's unwavering cerulean gaze.
"You are." Thor leaned in close to Loki, close enough to feel the ice of his breath on his cheeks. "You always have been. You simply must realize it, remember it. Do you understand?"
Loki nodded, swallowing hard. His world winnowed down to Thor - to the radiant heat bleeding into the air from his golden skin, the strength in his fingers wrought from decades of swinging Mjolnir, the shocking blue of his eyes - and, absently, he traced the lines of his lips with the wet tip of his tongue. "Yes. I understand."
"Good." Against his will, Thor's thumbs stroked over the silken expanse of Loki's wrists, calluses against pale, luminous flesh. Unwelcome, air invaded the microscopic distance between them where they touched, forcing Thor to let go with the quietest whisper of skin on skin, pulling apart. "Now. Knowing you, you have promised them visits - think on how your trips shan't take eight days, round trip."
Loki nodded, a watery smile shining out from the sharp angles of his face, and clasped Thor's hands in his own. "Thank you, Thor. For... Thank you." Eyes shut, dark lashes resting against pale cheeks, Loki kissed Thor's hands with a tangible, heady reverence. With that, Loki departed, a weak-kneed and addlepated Thor left in his wake.
Two blondes strode past, honey and sunlight and wheat dripping from their scalps in shining curls, hips swaying. Lofn and Sjöfn, Frigga's youngest handmaidens, stopped and turned, looking at Thor with a strange look in their eyes - part plotting, scheming madness and part pity, compassion.
Lofn took his left elbow and Sjöfn his right, and they guided him to the gardens, parking him on a smooth stone bench. "You love him," Lofn murmured, purposeful. She stroked his hair back and tapped his nose. "You love him, I mean to say."
"I... It is shameful." Thor hunched inwards, collapsing like an egg beneath a boot. "Wrong, sick. It is not as brothers love, and so I should not feel it, but I cannot make myself stop feeling it."
"Silly, silly boy," Sjöfn chuckled, plucking at his mail so it jangled. "You are your own biggest obstacle at the moment, and while I'd like to remove said obstacle, I can hardly remove you from an equation in which you are the constant, can I?" Thor just shrugged, frowning. "No. No, I can't, so I'll just have to fix you." She was alarmingly cheerful.
It took them all of ten minutes to convince Thor to confess himself to Loki, to convince him that the outcome would be naught but passionate entanglements and frantic, hungry hours spent writhing between bedsheets.
It was when he opened the door to Loki's room that his surety faltered, and he swallowed, choking on the thick ball of words aching to unspool on his tongue.
"What is it, brother-mine?" Loki looked up from the mess of open books on his bed, curls falling in his eyes as he read.
"I... I just wanted to say that I love you." Thor swallowed hard, leaning against Loki's dresser. "That's all. Just... I love you."
Loki chuckled, smiling. "I know. I love you, too."
It was so painfully, obtusely familial that Thor wanted to hide somewhere small and dark. The only problem with that plan was that Thor would not be able to fit somewhere small and dark, nor would he be capable of sitting still in so small a space as he desired. He forced a smile, flickering on his lips, and sat on the floor with his legs crossed. "Good. Good. I simply... I felt that it needed to be said."
Loki's smile remained, though its focus was no longer solely on him; rather, it fell softly as Loki's concentration shifted to the tome open on his knees. Thor scooted himself over to Loki's bedside, resting there so that he could feel the coolness of Loki's bare feet against the nape of his neck, of the pads of his fingers raking over Thor's scalp as Loki tugged thoughtlessly at his hair.
The door stayed open; there was no need to close it. Lofn and Sjöfn tripped past, frowning at the sight of Thor's own tongue, thick and insecure, standing between the two of them finding happiness in each other's depths.
"They make it so difficult," Lofn mourned, frustration stomping her feet. "Why can they not be happy? Their affair is forbidden only by ignorance and lies."
Sjöfn tutted, rubbing her shoulder. "I could do my best, darling, but all I could provide them is physical pleasure. You are the one they really need - you ease the paths trodden by secret lovers."
"I ease those paths, sweet girl, I do not shorten them." They turned, hiding on either side of the doorframe and smiling at each other softly. "Theirs... is painfully long."
Eyes rolling, they turned in, peeping.
Loki read one passage aloud, Thor's eyes locked on him with the sweetest look as he responded, bouncing ideas back and forth between them until the carbon of their conversation was condensed into a glittering diamond of an idea. Loki tugged gently on one blond lock, and did not see the gooseflesh rising on his arms.
The most perceptive man in all the Realms needed only to see what was right in front of his nose.
All that was left was to wait.
Mythology time! Lofn was the Norse goddess of passionate, forbidden love affairs, which makes her sort of perfect for Thorki. Sjöfn is the goddess who repairs lovers' spats, gets people horny, and makes the decision of whether or not a couple can actually be a couple.
This would have been posted on Christmas, but the entire website went tits up today. Which. No. Just no. Unacceptable.
Anyways, Happy Christmas, Solstice, Hanukah, Kwanza, Festivus, etcetera, to all those who read. I hope you liked this chapter.
Note: If you've seen the Christmas Special of Doctor Who, I would like to talk to you, because this... Jesus Christ on a hot buttered roll, what? What!?
Review if you liked it, review if you didn't. I like to listen.