Loki races back to the Don City as fast as the horse will carry him, only stopping when the animal needs sustenance. He does not know how long he has before Gorr comes to Vanaheim, but he expects given the panic of Regin that it is near enough to warrant his speed. He tries to find more Don River tributaries on his way, anxious to see if his change of intent has changed the fortune ahead, but he is unsuccessful. Loki's ultimate hope is that Freyr and Hriedmar will be wise enough to know now is the time to put their greatest weapon to use and use foresight as an ally. The lonely night he spends on the road is too quiet for comfort. Loki is unable to even see the stars, the clouds above keeping all light at bay. Whether this is in itself a tool of the enemy, he cannot tell; all he can do is try to sleep and prepare for what lies ahead.
The next evening, when he arrives at the hilltop above the Don City, he looks down on a scene he does not expect. The whole fortress seems deserted for all that it is quiet and unlit. Loki pats the horse on his haunches, and slowly descends, carefully listening and turning his head to watch for enemies or even hidden Vanir. The grand doors, normally wide open for commerce, trade, and celebrations, are shut tight. Loki is in awe of their height like this. Curved at the top in a pointed arch, the thick wood that makes up the doors are clearly intended as a last means of defense for this part of the realm. Where have they all gone? Loki asks himself, and he dismounts the horse in search for a way in that might not draw too much attention.
No sooner does his foot touch the ground when a small window in the great doors opens, just at his eye level. Loki turns quickly, caught in the surprise, the eyes of the person on the other side being the only thing visible in the dark.
"Show yourself!" a voice calls out; it sounds stern and low. Loki can only hold his hands up in surrender. This is not an enemy. If it was, I would already be dead. He turns his body so that he might be seen better. Just then, a clap can be heard behind the door, and two torches on either side of it light up. Loki is immediately illuminated, and he cannot help but blink and wince in the sudden light.
There is a gasp from the man beyond, and an excited announcement. "He has come! Freyr! It is he, the Jotun man!" Loki breathes a sigh of relief, and smirks slightly that this is how his uncle described him to the people. I suppose he is right, as I am clearly not Vanir. Thank you, Freyr, for having more faith than I. He waits patiently for the doors to open, and gives thanks to the horse, ready to submit himself to whatever fate this world requires.
The men of the Don City are not high in number, and in fact, they are much higher in age than any army that Loki has ever known. This is not unexpected given his visions and knowledge of the Vanir, but it brings Loki no comfort to know that their experience of life is their most valuable asset. He shared with Freyr his visions with the stream's gifts back at home, and the gift from the tree; his uncle only nods, silently taking in Loki's story, wanting to ask more questions but choosing to move forward instead.
Hriedmar and Regin have both been chosen as seers to this mission, and they were asked to partake of the fountain two times since the foiled wedding. Hriedmar first reported destruction and death, and was filled with the same fear his son had initially. It led to two days of debates and research, calls to other realms for watchers, and an uneasy shadow to grow upon the city. When Regin drank again, on the third day, it must have been some time after Loki already decided to join in the crusade as the outcome was not the total destruction he saw before. It brought him hope to not be faced with the same vision of his dead bride.
Loki stays with Freyr during his time in the Don City, feeling like he is merely a player. But as the hours pass, he finds that the men are circling around him instead of Hriedmar, and he ends up writing down incantations for them to learn. His reputation precedes him. Even though Loki only looks like an unassuming man, his hair and complexion tell them all that he is not from here, yet somehow he belongs. The few sorcerers that he made up with only days ago have already started telling stories of his skills, almost fearful of the power he holds within.
"If you all learn this skill in the next day, we might have a fighting chance." Loki is seated at a table that is becoming ever crowded with men, and strong women, who have come from the outlying villages in answer to calls sent out to them. Freyr isn't planning much at all, in fact he is watching Loki carefully, encouraging the Vanir who have questions to direct them towards Loki. Having been a soldier, and even the commander of the Asgardian army for a full year, he is the most experienced at the offense they require. Loki ends up sketching out a plan for them, advising all who are able to seek armor and defensive weapons for the fight of their lives.
"This creature, he will come with a formidable weapon, one designed to kill each and every one of you. If you have loved ones, it is time to say your goodbyes. It is time, now, to steel yourselves for your realm. If we do not defeat him, we are dooming Asgard and all of those in the lower realms who hold this heritage. We must stop him here, now, on the fields of Vanaheim, and prove that we are indeed Gods and Goddesses, worthy of life, of longevity, and the legends we have inspired!" All the Vanir cheer at Loki's words, and he waves his right hand at them all to go forth as he's instructed. Loki is unaware the effect he has on the men, merely being himself. Making grand declarations feels natural to him. Freyr places a hand on Loki's shoulder.
"It is time for you to get ready, too, Loki," he says, and with that, Loki nods. He closes his eyes, is bathed in green light, and emerges in strong armor that he has not needed since the time before his children were born.
"I am ready, uncle. Bring on the bastard."