A/N: Erm… Hi there! Long time no update. Very sorry about that, but it really couldn't be helped, between the edit (which is all done and posted) and Real Life encroaching I had (and still have) almost no time to devote to this fic. However, if I don't finish it before Thor 2, I know it'll die in the water, so I have a deadline to meet. I can't say the updates will be regular, but I will try and keep them as frequent as I can for all of you out there who are still reading this monster (it's now over 400 pages long!)
In conclusion: Very sorry about the delay, edits are all done so there are small (and occasionally significant) changes made to the story line, and I hope that anyone who is still reading this story continues to enjoy it!
Chapter 48 –The Gift of the Dökkálfar
Loki slammed his door after his mother and grimaced as his head gave a sudden and vicious throb of pain. He covered his eyes and hissed, trying to push it away.
Why was everyone turning on him? Why were they all trying to manipulate him? He was the manipulator, not them!
He stumbled back to his chair and collapsed into it in a flail of long limbs, his head throbbing with a blinding pain behind his eyes. He squeeze them shut and breathed heavily, trying to will the pain away. He could feel his heart beating against his chest, the blood pulsing through his body, loud and heavy as it pressed against his seiðr which recoiled and twisted against it.
"Argh!" he cried out, throwing out his arm, seeking a grip to keep him centred. There was a clatter and then a thump as something landed on the rug beneath his feet. He was immobilised by the pain and the weight of his seiðr as it started to rush through him like a river tumbling down a mountain.
A particularly painful throb made him feel like his head was about to crack open and he screamed, eyes snapping open. Where was his mother? Where was Sigyn? They could not have gone far –but his chambers were blanketed by a silencing spell. No one could hear him screaming, not even the guards standing right outside his door.
His vision wavered and warped as his eyes rolled in their sockets, the seiðr building up behind them, trying to push them out. He frantically tried to subdue it, if he didn't it was going to kill him, the day before his coronation celebration he was going to die because he couldn't control his own magic. As he choked on another scream his eyes rolled and fell on something on the floor.
A black ball… an orb. The Crochan Orb from Malekith!
Loki threw himself out of the chair and landed in a heap on the floor when his legs refused to support his weight. He shrieked as the seiðr started wrapping itself around his brain. Memories began to flash in front of him, and voices started screaming at him from all directions.
"Loki must you be so reclusive?" cried Thor.
"I'm bored, come here and fix that," purred Sigyn.
"Precious, precious Loki, my darling little fool," sighed Angrboda.
"You're my son, I only wanted to protect you," declared Odin.
"Fa-fa! Fa-fa!" cried Jörmungandr.
Loki covered his ears, trying to block the sounds out, but it was pointless, they were in his head. They only got louder.
"You look just like your mother,"
"He's always been jealous of Thor,"
"She's incredibly intelligent, I hope all our children inherit it from her. But she's not one for upsetting a system, even if it hurts her. She's like Hlin, you know how nervous she is."
Loki threw out his hand, desperately reaching for the Crochan Orb. If he could just reach it, he might be able to make it all stop. It was inches out of reach, and he tried to stretch.
"Agh!" His whole body screamed in protest as the seiðr continued to seep into his brain, pulling like a curious child at the different parts to see inside him. He collapsed in a heap and convulsed into a ball, choking silently as the air in his lungs caught in his throat and lodged there. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he could only listen as voices passed over him, again and again.
"You'll always be mine Loki, always," said Angrboda.
"I dare you, shrink it! Show me if making it tiny makes you less of a man," challenged Sigyn.
"Loki you're amazing!" laughed Sverrir, voice high and excited in its boy form.
"I'm yours because I chose to be, like you chose to be mine," said Sigyn.
Loki twitched on the ground, the seiðr building inside his skull.
He was about to die.
A hand touched his shoulder, causing shooting pain to cut through his shoulder and chest, making him scream. The hand retracted, then another, in a glove, pressed the Crochan Orb into his hand. He squeezed his fingers around it and tried to focus. The orb started to heat up in his hand as it opened itself up and started to pull on the threads of seiðr inside Loki, winding them up inside itself. As it did the pain started to recede. Loki clung on, willing more and more of the seiðr to go into the orb to be held.
Finally he managed to gasp for air and rolled onto his back, still clutching the orb and pumping magic into it. He shuddered and trembled as he stared up at the ceiling, the rush of relief at still being alive nearly overwhelming him.
"It won't fix you."
Loki lifted his head and twisted painfully onto his side to look around. Hel stood in the shadows, watching him impassively.
"Hel!" he reached for her with his free hand. Hel shook her head,
"I cannot get too close to you… your seiðr would try to feed off mine, it could kill you."
"What?" he tried to demand, but it came out more like a whimper. Hel sighed,
"You're unstable right now, it'll pass, but until then, since I'm a part of the universe as the mistress of the dead, I'm too easy a source of more power, you'll try to drain me and my power will kill you."
Loki tried to get to his feet, even his knees would have been better, but he was still shaking too hard and he dropped his head to the floor in exhaustion, drawing the orb to his chest. For a time, only his tremulous breathing and the crackling of the fire filled the room. Loki drew up his legs as soon as he could stand to move them, feeling his heart beat slowing down against the cool press of the orb. He could feel the seiðr seeping away, and the pressure receded with the pain, leaving him feeling disjointed and exhausted. As he lay there, focusing on his breathing, he felt more than just the pressure that had been killing him slip away. With every pulse of the orb, he felt like something was slipping back into place. He licked his lips and tasted something there. He licked them again, trying to place it. His whole focus narrowed to that faint taste.
The fourth lick made caused a flash of realisation. It was Honeysuckle sap from Vanaheim. Sigyn used it on her lips. It must have rubbed off on him when she had kissed him.
Loki sucked in a sharp breath as he relived the last few days, the last few conversations with Sigyn, with his mother. His mother had mutilated Brokkr in an act of vengeance, his wife had threatened to leave him if he didn't accept the help of Aetril, and he had just stood there like a statue, baffled and incapable of feeling anything more than mild annoyance at all this inconvenient nonsense.
He wrapped both hands around the orb and held it against his mouth, focusing on pumping more seiðr into it. With every push he felt the strange disconnect, which he had ceased to wonder at, slip away as the parts of his mind that he had cut off slid back into line.
"What's wrong with me Hel?" asked Loki, his voice hushed in the heavy air of his room.
"You're dying father," said Hel without emotion.
"Why?"
"Because you were not ready for this change, and you've let it run free, letting the seiðr control you, rather than trying to master it."
Loki shifted and was able to uncurl and push himself up so he was sitting with his back against his chair. He looked up at Hel, feeling humbled at how she dominated the room, tall and mighty -she was like Thor.
"What more?" he asked, "Hel, I feel like I'm losing my mind and being consumed by something I don't know how to fight."
"I know father," said Hel.
"I don't like you calling me that," said Loki, his head dropping onto the seat of his chair, "'Father'… I don't like that word, it's too formal. I call Odin 'father' because I fear and loath and love him… don't I?"
A tiny smile formed on Hel's half lips, "What should I call you then?"
Loki gave a weak giggle, "Jörmungandr called me 'Fa-Fa', and then it became papa. I liked it. The way he'd reach out his little hands to me when he said it…"
"I can call you that," said Hel quietly. Loki smiled up at her,
"My Hela… my brilliant daughter."
He could feel it, feel the love spreading through his chest like warm water spreading through his veins, and he wondered how he had not realised its absence before. No wonder Sigyn could not trust him anymore. His smile melted into tears and he leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling and pulling the orb closer, like a lifeline.
"Oh Hela, I've made such a mess! This was meant to be a moment of greatness and glory for me, I was meant to bring all the realms under my spell of words and show them I could bring about a new peace, I was meant to reveal my love for Sigyn in a beautiful display of subtly and grace that would enchant them all so she'd have to be mine. Instead I've been drifting in a nothingness, with no real goals and no clear path, and now I've lost Sigyn too."
Hel stepped closer, still too far away, but her face was softer as she gazed upon him with a mixture of affection and pity.
"Papa, you will get another chance, but only if you admit that you need help in saving yourself,"
"To whom? Who can I trust now that Sigyn has abandoned me?" Loki felt sick as he said it, a blaze of anger almost choking him. Had Sigyn not sworn 'until death parts us' when they married on Midgard? Did that mean nothing to her?
Hel gave a very strange sounding snort, "Father, you pushed her to this action. You refused to heed her fears, you couldn't even understand them, so she took the last desperate chance, hoping that your love for her was still there, buried deep inside you and it would be strong enough to push you to here. And look, it did."
Loki licked his lips, tasting Sigyn's lip balm again, thinking back over the last few days. How he had felt like he was falling when she had walked into the Throne Room, how he had wanted to drag Sigyn away from Byleist when he saw how close they were standing… and he thought about how the minute she had walked away from him the pain had started.
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head and relaxing his vice grip on the orb, but still keeping it close.
"Is it really that simple?"
"Of course not, this is complex and difficult seiðr, beyond the realms of what most people will ever experience. But the body and the mind will affect it whether it's complex or basic." Hel stepped closer again, dipping her head and making her crown flash red in the firelight, "Papa, you love her, you need her more than you want to admit, and she counted on that to break through your walls."
"Do the walls not protect me?"
"Not forever, they are only a short term solution, as is that," She pointed at the orb, which was starting to glow faintly with green light. "Crochan Orbs can hold vast amounts of seiðr, but eventually, even that will be full."
Loki held it up, examining it, "It's seeping away the excess seiðr that's been building up inside me. It's too volatile and unwieldy for me to use it often enough to keep the levels even, so it builds up inside me. And the more it builds, the more I have to cut off my heart from it, because my emotions could cause it to erupt if I were enflamed enough."
Hel nodded. Loki chuckled again, bitterly, "I'm like a blocked pipe, waiting to burst." He lowered his hand into his lap, "I could have killed so many if I had lost control of it on the first day. So many children… if Aetril had not stepped in it to help-"
"No one died papa, and now you're aware of the danger. You've been letting the seiðr carry you away from yourself, but for the moment, you are more yourself again, and you must use it to your advantage."
"For the moment?"
"Once the seiðr builds up again, you'll start to lose yourself inside it, and you'll go back to how you were."
Loki turned the orb around in his hands, easing the flow of seiðr into it and letting out a heavy breath as he was left feeling empty after being unnaturally full. He felt like he was waking up from a long dream, his head clearing and yet… had he not felt clear before?
"It's all… so contradictory," he said softly, running a slightly shaky hand through his hair, "Such is the nature of seiðr I know… it is alive, and yet not, and I've always shared a close connection to it… but now it is trying to engulf me."
"It no longer sees you as a vessel from which it can flow, but as a part of it, and a part of it that is lacking. You must cut the bonds between it and you… if not all of them, at least some of them, before it overwhelms the flesh part of you, and destroys it."
"I thought it would drive me mad, that is what the myths say."
"Yes, that would be the last thing that happens, your mind would break before your body."
Loki pressed a fist to his lips, "What do I do Hela?"
Hel sighed, "I don't know."
Loki's eyes snapped up, "What?"
"I don't know papa… because I've never seen the few this has happened to survive it. Whether in a few days, a few years, sometimes even a century, they all lose the fight with the seiðr and it consumes them. Body and Soul." For the first time, Hel looked sad. Loki reached out and was relieved when she let him touch her cheek.
"I don't intend to lose to this Hel. I am the master of seiðr, I will not be mastered by it."
Hel nodded, "I know, and I expect you to still retain your soul when you finally reach your end, so that you can come to my home."
Loki gave a faint smile, "I have far too much to do first. Like freeing Fenrir." His smile faded as he remembered Brokkr and the key. "Who is the Golden Völva?"
Hel shook her head, "I do not know, she is hidden from me. I am like Heimdall, only better. I can see much in this universe, well beyond the Nine Realms, but not all is clear."
Loki sighed, looking around for the key, realising he must have dropped it in his agony, "To free Fenrir, I must risk Odin's life. I will need to make sure no one stands in my way."
"Do not rush this papa, Fenrir has waited for a long time, he can wait until the right moment," said Hel sternly.
Loki grimaced, but nodded, knowing she was right. Hel's expression softened a little, "I have been studying his form, and I believe the real Fenrir is locked inside that monster. I will not say he does not suffer, but I believe he has been unchanged by the collar, what you see is a kind of illusion, a shell of anger, hate and fear, inside which the real Fenrir is trapped."
Loki rolled the orb over his palm, the green light flickering inside it, "Then you think that when I free him, he may be exactly as he was when the collar was put on him? He might be a newborn babe still?"
"Maybe… although there's no telling what effects the long trauma might have on him," said Hel.
The idea that he might get back the baby he remembered so clearly made Loki's heart clench. Might he possibly get a chance to raise one of his children to adulthood? It would be more than he had ever hoped for, and he smiled softly at the thought. The smile slipped away quickly as he sat up,
"Brokkr! I have to deal with him, I have to make sure he never-"
Hel lifted a regal hand and Loki cut himself off.
"Leave Brokkr to me," she said lightly, "I may be the mother to the dead, but much like many forget the danger of Amma Frigga because she is a patron of marriage and motherhood, it doesn't mean I don't know how to unleash the cruelty of eternal misery upon deserving people."
"I barely listened to his words before, I just wanted it all to go away and stop bothering me earlier," said Loki, rubbing his forehead. "If I'd been thinking, I would have gotten him alone and coaxed him into telling me the truth as if I agreed with him, not… what mother did."
"What do you think of his story now?"
"I don't know… seems like he was still lying to me… or maybe he has forgotten things. Perhaps he's just more afraid of that Golden Völva than of me. I need to question him again."
"Let me do it papa. You'd be surprised how many creatures feel they cannot lie to me, without any influence on my part." The grin on Hel's face was vicious and amused.
Doubt pulled on Loki's mind, but he nodded, "I need you to make him relive the story moment for moment, I want every detail. I don't care if you tell him that if he tells the absolute truth he'll be absolved of his crimes, but I need the absolute truth, I need to find that völva! She's the one who did this to Fenrir, and I want to know who she is, and why she did it."
Hel nodded, "I can do that." She rose to her feet, "I must go now, I have little time left before my body starts to suffer the effects of Asgard."
Loki started and then dragged himself to his feet, "Wait!"
Hel looked at him curiously. Loki swallowed then threw his arms around Hel's shoulders, holding her close, "My brilliant daughter…"
Hel turned her face to hide it in his neck, "My papa," she whispered. Loki squeezed her tighter, feeling his eyes start to sting as the urge to crush Hel with his arms nearly overwhelmed him. He wanted her to stay with him, to never let her go. Yet he knew Hel was no helpless child, and he would have hated it if Frigga and Odin had done that to him. Slowly, he eased his grip and let Hel go, peering up into her face to make sure he had it memorised.
"You know, you really need to stop helping me, it's my job to help you," he said lightly, trying to smile.
Hel smirked, "If I ever feel the dead need some mischief in their afterlife, I will come to you." She leaned forward and kissed his brow, "I have always existed as a part of the universe, and I exist because of you. If you had not loved me so much you slew mother to save me, the universe might not exist. Is that not help enough."
"Don't say that, I'll become as arrogant as Thor!" Loki laughed, and it seemed to ease a tightness in his chest. Then he sobered, "I never asked before. Is your… is Angrboda with you in Niflheim?"
Hel tilted her head forward ever so slightly, "I see her occasionally. She wanders around my realm, as they all do."
Loki's stomach turned, "And… do you speak?"
"Only once. When she first came to my domain, I spoke with her, telling her who I was –she recognised me of course, I am hardly forgettable. She was very proud to have made me. I told her she would have destroyed me, and all of creation if she had gotten her way. It was you who made me what I am papa, not her. She has not spoken to me since."
Loki had no idea what to say to that, he had never really thought about it before, and there was really nothing to say. So he just took Hel's gloved hand and kissed it, not caring at the clammy cold against his lips. Hel smiled and dipped her head again, then vanished without a sound or a flicker. She was just gone and Loki was left holding air. He swallowed and dropped his hand. He staggered back to his chair and sank into it, feeling exhausted. For a while he just sat there, trying to acclimatise to this new sensation of having no seiðr pressing upon his mind and body. He hadn't even realised what was happening until now. He had noticed something was off, but he had never imagined it was this, that the universal seiðr was trying to consume him completely into itself. That wouldn't destroy him, it would erase anything in Loki that was him, and convert him into just another part of the universal seiðr, as a form of energy without thought or feeling.
Loki had experienced that existence only partially when he had thrown himself into the subspace after Fenrir had ripped off his arm, he had no desire to get any closer to it than he had. Yet he had been sinking towards it, slowly but surely as the seiðr wove itself forcibly into him, trying to pick him apart from the inside, shrouding his mind in a blanket of disconnect to keep him from realising what was happening to him.
Loki had never seen seiðr as anything but a positive, if dangerous, force. He had fought against anyone who dared suggest that seiðr was evil or weak, because it wasn't. Really, seiðr was a neutral force, neither good nor evil, capable of being used for both, and had been used many times over for various purposes. Natural seiðr had its own rhythm and reason, picking places to form strange pockets where miracles and wonders could happen to the least gifted user, having access points and vacuums throughout the universe. Trying to control it like a master controls a slave never ended well, seiðr would always bite back. It had to be treated like a friend, or a generous lord. You never took from seiðr, you coaxed, and if seiðr wanted something for itself, it was hard to stop it from taking it.
Loki inhaled shakily and looked at the Crochan orb. It glowed softly with green light in the centre, an indication of just how much seiðr he had pumped into it before he had recovered his senses. Like Hel said, it was not a solution, even if he had hundreds of them, the orbs could never contain the power trying to infiltrate him. If Loki could not figure out a way to stop this process, he would cease to exist. He dropped the orb to cover his face with his hands, sucking in deep breaths to try and calm himself, as the terror rose up from the pits of his stomach and wound its way around his heart and lungs.
"I will not let this happen! I will not!" he spat to the air, "I am Loki! I am the King of Asgard, Husband to Sigyn and Father to Hel, Fenrir and Jörmungandr! I will not let you take me!"
He stood up, but faltered because he had nowhere to go and no idea where to start. He had no idea how long it would be before the seiðr built up again and he sank down into his detachment. After that there was no guarantee that he would even think to keep trying.
There was no other option, he needed help. He needed someone to keep reading and studying and trying to help him free himself from this mess when he no longer could. Which meant he needed someone who knew him, who could be patient and determined and still keep him on the path that benefitted Asgard. Frigga was clearly going to be a problem, she might do anything to try and earn Loki's forgiveness, and Loki didn't need that right now. Sigyn was going home tomorrow, and now that Loki thought about it, she seemed to have a lot on her mind. He didn't want her to be burdened by this when she was clearly already on the edge. Aetril had offered her help, and Loki decided that, yes, he would accept her offer but he couldn't trust her. Trying to help him would make him vulnerable to her, and she still seemed determined to seduce and marry him. Besides, she was a monarch of a rival realm, he wouldn't even consider trusting her to be in charge of his care.
There were only two people he would think of trusting right now.
Sverrir tried to hide a yawn as he headed for the conveyor that would take him up to the king's chambers. He hoped whatever Loki needed justified his leaving a warm bed with his beloved wife only hours before the sunset and the Celebration of Sex ceremony began. Sverrir wanted to be full of energy tonight, he and Ilmr had not made love in a while, first because Sverrir was so busy he literally fell onto his bed asleep before his head hit the pillow, and with today approaching fast, they had decided to wait to really enjoy themselves. Delayed gratification and all that. Princess Sigyn had better not let them all down.
He turned a corner and came to a stop.
"Father?"
Kvasir turned where he stood waiting for the conveyor and he gave Sverrir a small smile of greeting, "Good afternoon my son."
"Wh-what are you doing here?"
"The king summoned me, as I assume he did you," said Kvasir, a slight twitch in his eye the only indication that he was nervous. Sverrir nodded and stood by his father while they waited for the conveyor to drop down to them. Once it opened its doors, they stepped inside and directed it up.
"What do you think the king wants?" wondered Sverrir.
"I can only hope good things," said Kvasir with a huff of false laughter.
"Knowing the king? That's a weak hope father," said Sverrir with a sigh.
Kvasir's chuckle was a little more genuine now.
The einherjar lined the corridor as they walked to the doors. Sverrir nervously lifted a hand and knocked on the door. After a moment it swung open just enough to let them in and, when no voice called them, they entered quietly. It was very dark in the king's antechamber, with only a fire to give any kind of light. Sitting at the fire, leaning forward with his hands pressed together between his knees, was the king. Sverrir thought it was the first time in a while he looked closer to Aesir, ever since his transformation he had seemed grander, bigger, and more unknowable. Now he just looked like Loki, troubled and unhappy, as he had often seemed before he took the throne.
Both Sverrir and Kvasir sensed that they ought to kneel, and kneel they did, bowing their heads.
"Your majesty, you summoned us," said Sverrir, trying not to sound nervous. Loki lifted his head and looked at them as if surprised they were there. Was it Sverrir's imagination or did Loki's eyes seem less startlingly green.
"Yes, I did," he murmured, his eyes flicking up and Sverrir heard the door shut behind them. "Stand Kvasir, Sverrir, I need to speak with you."
Sverrir got to his feet, noticing that the king was holding something in his hands. Loki sighed and sat back, one hand rising to rub at his mouth.
"I fear I am at risk of repeating myself, but I must ask again. Can I trust you?"
Sverrir felt a stab of frustration, had he not proven himself already? Why did Loki continuously query if he could trust him? What would it take to prove to him that Sverrir was on his side?
"Of course your majesty, you can trust us," said Kvasir. Loki looked up and narrowed his eyes,
"I ask only you, not Sverrir. I do trust Sverrir, but you… given our last conversation, you must understand why I doubt you."
Sverrir felt awkwardly deflated as his father cringed.
"Yes your majesty, but I swear upon my honour, you can trust me. I will do whatever I have to to earn your trust again," said Kvasir desperately. Sverrir knew his father had missed his duties, and whatever had caused the rift between him and the king had been eating at him. He had no idea what it could be that had hurt Loki so much he banished Kvasir from court, but he knew it would have been important.
Loki stared at Kvasir for a long time, finally nodding, "I believe you, but do not think that this fixes all. I am however willing to give you a chance… because I need your help."
Sverrir's head snapped up as Loki's voice cracked on the last word.
"Majesty?"
Loki looked away and gestured at the two chairs across from him. Sverrir and Kvasir sat down and waited. Loki bit at his lip, a strange smile making its way onto his face, his chin trembling slightly as he rubbed at his mouth. The longer they waited, the more alarmed Sverrir became. Finally Loki let out a shaking breath and smiled bitterly,
"I am dying."
Sverrir would have been less horrified if Loki had stabbed him.
"Your majesty?" he asked softly. Loki ran his teeth over his lip again and said,
"My metamorphosis is a poisoned chalice."
Sverrir frowned at the term, "I do not understand."
Loki laughed quietly, "It means what seemed so wonderful at the start… is actually a terrible thing. This transition is killing me, it will kill me eventually unless I can… do something to stop it."
"I don't –how can it be killing you?" asked Sverrir desperately.
"Magic consumes magic," said Kvasir quietly.
Loki nodded, "Yes. Did you know?"
"I feared, but I had no proof, and I did not wish to alarm you before I knew," said Kvasir, rubbing his palms against each other.
"I would not have listened to you before," said Loki with a shake of his head, "Do you know how long I have?"
"You're one of the strongest people I know your majesty… but for all we know it could be days or weeks."
"Days?" demanded Sverrir jumping to his feet, "You knew of this and you said nothing to me?"
"I wanted to be sure," said Kvasir. "I had faith… faith in your majesty that you would be able to stay strong."
"Sverrir," Loki called softly and Sverrir turned to him. Loki gave him a mild, almost affectionate smile, "Do you not see a difference between me now and me yesterday?"
Sverrir looked at him carefully and tilted his head, "I… I could not be sure majesty."
Loki laughed and tossed whatever he was holding at Sverrir, who caught it on a reflex. "Look."
Sverrir looked at the orb in his hand, recognising it as the Crochan Orb given by the Dökkálfar. It was glowing softly with green energy, which Sverrir recognised as Loki's magic. He peered into it in confusion,
"You… put your seiðr inside this? And now…"
"Do I not seem more like myself?" asked Loki.
Sverrir nodded, unwilling to grasp anything that was being said to him. He did not want to believe that his king and friend could die, and certainly not by his own magic. Loki gave a rueful grin,
"I've made quite a mess for you and the other lendmenn, Sverrir." He turned to Kvasir, "Kvasir, I don't want you to return to the council, I want Dag to remain in your place. Instead I want you to devote your time to trying to undo this change, or at least stop it from killing me. I know that Queen Aetril intends to offer her help, but I cannot trust her. However, I want to believe I can trust you. So… can I trust you to save my life? Because the fact is once the seiðr builds up inside me again, it may keep me from caring enough to try."
Sverrir had the strange sensation of cold water running down his back as Loki looked at Kvasir. "But, majesty, can you not do this again?" he held up the orb, unsure if he could shake it or not.
"I only thought to do it because I nearly died not an hour ago because I lost control, if I hadn't grabbed the orb and funnelled the excess into the orb, none of us would be standing here right now. It's not a fix, it's just a temporary halting of the problem, because even if we had all the orbs in the universe, I'd eventually run out. I need a more permanent solution, and I need you to find it for me Kvasir."
Kvasir was pale but he nodded, sliding from the chair to kneel before Loki, "I will do everything in my power to find a solution. I shall begin at once."
"What about the festival?" asked Loki.
Kvasir gave a small smile, "I am too old to be going to tonight's festivities, and my wife intends to mind our grandchildren. I will have peace in the palace to study."
Loki nodded, "I don't want the other lendmenn to know until absolutely necessary. We shall only tell them that you have begun a serious research project with Queen Aetril on the nature of my metamorphosis."
"Surely you should tell them, they would want to help," said Sverrir.
"No, I don't trust them to keep it to themselves. I'm already worried about how many know that I at risk, I don't want anyone else to know."
"The Lendmenn are your servants, they would not betray you," said Sverrir uneasily. Loki shook his head,
"No, it will not pass your lips."
Sverrir hid a sigh. That had been the one thing he had seen as a benefit to Loki's odd behaviour. He had been much more willing to let the advisors help, but it seemed that had nothing to do with their attempts to prove themselves and everything to do with Loki's personality being tampered with.
"As you wish your majesty," said Kvasir, rising to his feet, "Was there anything else you wished of us?"
Loki shook his head, "No… just that. My life, get it back for me."
Any irritation at Loki's lack of trust slipped away at those words. He sounded as close to frightened as Sverrir could ever remember hearing from him.
"We will your majesty, we will!" he said pressing a fist to his chest. Loki nodded and waved them out.
As they descended in the conveyor, Sverrir looked at Kvasir, "Father… can you save him?"
"I have to son, I have to."
Figuring out exactly what was wrong with Loki was hard, what was harder was putting it into words. But yay for having normal Loki somewhat back –he's so much easier to write.
As always, thoughts, comments etc are very welcome (and if at any stage you feel you've missed something because of the rewrites, feel free to query me.)
Night's Darkness
