The greatest thing about being the cousin of the King of Asgard was that it was extremely easy to get his full attention.
All Fafnir had to do to pull Thor away from the court was inform him he wanted to talk to him.
Boom. Undivided attention.
The king and his cousin reclined in Thor's living room, in the biggest house in the still-pathetically-small village. They all referred to it endearingly as "the palace", despite it not really being much of a bigger deal than any other buildings around.
Thor rarely left it.
These days, since the Vanished had returned, he wasn't the miserable wreck he had been, before, but he had never recovered. Ragnarok had taken everything from him, and he was a hollow shell of the man he had once been, preferring to occupy himself with mementos, few as they were, from his past life. The portraits, relics, journals, everything they had managed to save from Old Asgard, he kept it treasured, and dear to his heart. He didn't even spend time, outside of court, with the citizens who he hadn't known from Before.
It broke Fafnir's heart, recalling the confident, loud, come-what-may man he'd once been, but, sadly enough, he understood where his king was coming from. He could only hope for better days.
"What did you wish to speak to me about, Cousin?" Thor smiled, offering him a cup of tea. (Aunt Frigga had always served tea at her private meetings with the royal family.)
"Well…" Fafnir began, not exactly sure where to start, or how to break this gently. Truly, he wasn't sure if he wanted to break it at all, seeing as how Thor would certainly be crushed, if his theory was incorrect. He hated what those imposters had done; they were only after the money.
But Logan… He didn't even want that. He was so lost, so hopeless, he just wanted a home. And, if he truly was Loki, Fafnir would be able to help him.
With that thought in mind, he soldiered onward. "I was out on the docks, last night, and met a man." He explained. Should he mention the attempted suicide? Probably not. Hopefully, Logan would have the opportunity to tell Thor, himself, if he thought it important. "He calls himself Logan, and he suffers from severe amnesia. He doesn't even know his real name. He was disoriented, and depressed, so I brought him to my place for the night. As he was warming himself, I uh… I noticed…" This was the dangerous bit. Tread lightly, Fafnir. "He looks just like your brother."
It was a painful thing to see the Thunderer's face struggle to remain carefully blank, in attempt not to be overwhelmed by pain at the mere mention of the man. "That's nice." He finally squeezed out, his gaze fixed on the teacup in his trembling hands.
"The way he talks…" Fafnir gently continued. "His mannerisms… he's strikingly similar, Thor."
"Why would you do this to me?" Thor suddenly demanded. "You of all people, I thought would understand how much pain these claims put me through. You already have a share in the treasury. What more could you possibly gain from my suffering?"
"I'm not trying to gain anything." Fafnir insisted. "I'm trying to help you both. I knew Loki, while he was alive. I know what he looked like, and I'm telling you, this could be-"
"My brother is dead." Thor rumbled threateningly. "I've come to terms with that, and I'll not have you desecrating his memory. Are we clear?"
It was surprising, almost, how quickly this had gone downhill. "Crystal." He assured. "But, Thor…"
With a frustrated huff, the king leaned back in his chair, his eyes dark as an oncoming storm. "Are you the only one who thinks this 'Logan' fellow is…?" He couldn't even finish the sentence.
"Well, I came to you, first. You did know him best, after all."
"Get some credentials." Thor ordered. "Then, maybe, I'll rethink seeing him. But Loki is… is dead. He has been for a decade. Don't get your hopes up, Cousin."
"Because you've lost all of yours." Fafnir murmured.
There was a heavy silence, as Thor attempted to keep his tears from spilling over. "That was out of line." He finally croaked.
"I'm sorry." Fafnir sighed, running a hand through his hair. I don't want either of you to be hurt, you know. I'm just trying to…" Honestly, he wasn't even sure. Help people? "If you don't want to see him, I won't pressure you."
"Thanks." Thor mumbled. "But… you really believe it might be him?" He lifted his eyes with such a yearning, longing expression. The red-head gave a short nod. "I really do."
"Don't give me hope." Thor sighed. "Get the second opinions, and… maybe I'll… maybe I'll rethink." Wearily, he shook his head. "For you, mind you, not because I think he's really…" He waved a hand to sum up the rest of the sentence.
Of course, this had to be a very painful topic to broach, but, for the greater good, Fafnir was glad he had. With a grateful smile, he stood up, and gave Thor a firm handshake, before allowing the king to return about his business.
Logan was sitting by the fire, when Fafnir returned, curled in a tight ball, his nose buried in a book. Immediately, he glanced up with a hopeful expression, his eyes begging, pleading for answers. He didn't say a word; nothing needed to be said.
Fafnir crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. "You're going to have to talk to a few of the other nobles before he'll see you."
The disappointment was masked, but obviously there. "The other nobles… Like Uncle Ve? He yet lives, yes?" Logan guessed, laying the book aside.
"Yeah, he does, actually–" Fafnir paused. "Wait a second. I never told you about him."
Logan flinched, and shook his head. "I… that is… I get flashes." He explained, nervously picking at the hem of his sleeve. "Moments… sometimes a name, sometimes… a smell?" He paused. "You think me mad."
"No, not exactly." He shrugged. "We're all mad, to some extent. But… you remember Uncle Ve?"
Logan stared off into the distance, his mind scrambling to pull something up from the void. "I… that is… no." He stammered. "For a second, I thought… but it's gone, now. I'm terribly sorry."
"It's fine." Fafnir assured him. "But yes, Ve probably won't agree with me, even if he thinks I'm right. He's just like that. I'd place my money on Dr. Banner, though. Probably Brunnhilde or Sigyn, too."
At that, Logan glanced up sharply. "Who's Sigyn?"
"She was your betrothed." He explained, as he sat down in the chair opposite. "You were going to be married a few months after Thor's coronation. She was princess of Vanaheim, then, but she's queen, now. You two were inseparable, did everything together. You'd known each other since you were ten, and she was eight."
"Why didn't we marry?" Logan wondered. "If we were so close?"
Fafnir glanced down with a sad smile. "You fell into the void, and everyone thought you dead. She hasn't seen you since, but she knows you invaded Midgard, and everything…"
"I what?!" Logan's eyebrows shot up. "I invaded Earth? When?"
Ah. That's right. No memories of anything. "About fifteen years ago. Don't worry, though, I don't think anyone important still holds it against you."
"That doesn't mean…" In panic, he carded his hands through his dark hair. "I invaded a planet. I didn't kill anyone, did I?"
Fafnir winced. "Uh… yeah, you actually did. Quite a few. But I don't think you need to…"
"I'm a murderer…" Logan panicked. "I just wanted to know who I am… now I wish I didn't. I'm… I'm a terrible person."
"No, you're not." Fafnir soothed. He was very bad at soothing. "You've made mistakes, but everyone has."
"Not everyone's invaded a planet!" Logan's voice jumped a few octaves up in panicked hysteria. "Not everyone's killed people! I never wanted this…" With that, he curled in on himself, again, and buried his face into his arms. "I don't think you're safe, Fafnir." He mumbled, his voice trembling and muffled. "You ought to kick me out before I… before I hurt you."
"Come on." Fafnir sighed. "When's the last time you actually hurt someone?"
The terrified, emerald-green eyes flicked up to Fafnir's. "I don't know. And that's the worst of it. I don't even know if I killed someone just yesterday. I should go, before I hurt someone else…"
Hurriedly, he scrambled to his feet, and made for the door.
"No. No, no." Fafnir bolted to his feet, and grabbed his guest by the elbow. "Hold on a second. Do you want to hurt me?"
"Of course not." Logan gave him an unimpressed glare. "That's why I'm leaving."
"Then don't hurt me." Fafnir smiled. "Simple as that."
"What if I forget?" He demanded. "What if I don't remember why I shouldn't kill you?"
Fafnir shook his head, and guided him back to the chair. "You chronically lose memories, not morals. You don't remember that you hurt people, a decade and a half ago, but you remember that it was wrong. You're not a psychopath. Personally, I don't think you ever were. Something was off about the whole situation, anyway. Not that you remember it, but it was extremely unlike you. I've known you my whole life, you know?"
Hesitantly, Logan nodded. "I… I see your point. Then…" He paused, zoning out, for a second, before his eyes focused on Fafnir's face. "What were we talking about?"
"Talking to your relatives." Fafnir prompted. "I can probably contact Sigyn…"
"She's from another planet, though." Logan interrupted. "How do you speak with her?"
"Not all aliens are as behind-the-times as you, my friend." Fafnir laughed, pulling out his cell phone. "My bet is, if I tell her who I think you might be, she'll be here by tomorrow morning."
Logan furrowed his brow. "But aren't I the umpteenth one who's said I might be… I am… Loki?"
"Yes. She's gotten excited over every single one." Fafnir gave a fond smile. "And then promptly spent hours alone, crying, because her hopes were let down. She really loves you, you know. Never gave up on you, even when Thor did. There's also the small bit that I haven't believed a single one of the imposters."
"Then…" Logan raised an eyebrow. "What if she's disappointed, again? What if I'm not really…?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Fafnir shrugged. "Besides, she can't see that you don't resemble him, at least. She'll give you a chance."
TheOnlyHuman.