Rated T
Don't own or anything
~I~N~~T~H~E~~E~N~D~G~A~M~E~~N~O~W~
Chapter 3…
Loki sat on a stone in the middle of the town square, surrounded by Asgardians. He even had two children in his lap. After answering most of their frantic and overjoyed questions in the vaguest sense he could, promising a more thorough telling at a later time, he was now relaying messages and news from the other Realms he had passed through in his Five Year Odyssey.
"Is there a Lady Imogen Gorndottir here?" Loki asked loudly.
"Here, my Prince!" a young, harried mother pushed through the crowd. The others parted from her, and one strong farmer took her squirming toddler and set the boy on his shoulders.
"I bear a message from your husband, the warrior Ingolf Roskson," Loki said with a pleased smile. He was enjoying being able to give out good news to these weary, struggling people. "He is alive and well, misses you and the children, and will try to find a way to come back to his family. But as he is currently stationed on Vanaheim with the Lady Sif in command, I am not certain how he will accomplish this."
"Thank you, Prince Loki!" the woman cried, bursting into tears. She knelt in the mud and snatched his hand to kiss it, never mind that it was around one of the toddler's waists.
"Have a care for your gown, dear lady," Loki cautioned her with a smile. "I assure you, my hand will survive without being kissed, but I am not certain those stains will ever come out with Midgardian laundry soap."
Most of the crowd laughed, the woman blushed, and then blushed still more when he flicked one of his hands, cleaning the mud from her dress. It was still a little stained, but it should be easier to get out now, and it was no longer wet. She stammered out her thanks, retrieved her little one from the kind farmer, and scuttled back into the midst of the crowd.
"Now is there a Master Smith Erik Morgison here?" Loki called out. He was met with silence. A young man stepped forward, a stoic expression on his very young face. He barely looked old enough to shave.
"My father was lost in the plague of dust," he said quietly. "I am all that is left of my family that escaped Asgard. I am Leif Erikson."
Loki nodded somberly. "Then I bear a message from your aunt, Lady Brigga Morgidottir. She is well, though she lost her husband and one of her grandsons to the dust, and asks her distant family not to worry for her. She is well on Ria."
Young Leif nodded, his jaw tight and his eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Where do you live now, Leif Erikson?" Loki asked gently.
"I stay with Skjalf and his sons and help on their farm," the boy answered with a brave smile. "I am good with animals. I wanted to be a stableman when I grew old enough to apprentice."
"And there are so many fascinating animals on Midgard, you might not want to stop at horses and cows," Loki pointed out with a mischievous smile. "Did you know that Midgard has places like the Royal Menagerie where ordinary people can go and see many different types of Midgardian animals? They are called zoos."
Loki was peppered with excited questions, but he could only tell them very little. He had gotten information from the minds of the people he had briefly controlled with the Mind Stone, but that knowledge was loose and unconnected; strange bits of trivia that made no sense and had nothing further to add to them.
He gave a few more messages, answered queries of other loved ones, (some Loki had never met, and some he was reasonably sure were dust) and then the girl in his lap, slightly older than the boy by a few decades, demanded a story.
Loki decided to tell about the time he got lost in a dragon's cave on Muspellheim. It was one he had told a few times, and of course, he could not get away with telling his stories without the illusions to illustrate. So, he performed for his appreciative audience, crafting illusions of his younger self, the clever and dangerous dragon, and the fire giants, grinning every time the children laughed or cheered. The grown-ups, most of whom may have heard a version or two of this tale, chuckled enthusiastically at his embellishments and subtle jokes.
He finished his tale to applause, and then he handed the children back off to their families. He bowed, thanked the Asgardians, assured them he was here to stay … at least for a little while, and found he was now in a mood to try Thor again. The King was beloved by his people, but they were sad for him. They hardly saw him, and when they did, they said he seemed burdened by the weight of the Nine Realms. Well, Loki didn't bother to point out that there were now only Eight Realms. He said his good-byes and turned to go, finally noticing someone who had been standing on the outskirts of the crowd, watching him.
His heart stopped.
The Valkyrie had survived.
He had hoped so badly that she was alright. Often, he had thought of her over the last five years, wondering what her greeting would be. He fully expected her to punch him or otherwise hit him for being 'dead' for five years. Thor had almost hit him in the face with Mjolnir the last time he found out. But she simply stood there, leaning against the fence and glaring at him, her arms crossed. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked cautiously up to her. A few people lingered curiously, but they seemed to sense that this was private and hurried away.
"Brunnhilde," Loki said softly.
"So. What's your story?" the Valkyrie demanded flatly.
"Long and dull," Loki smiled.
"Think you can just waltz back home just like that? You expect a hero's welcome?"
Loki frowned at her. "You know I've never rejoiced in accolades unless they were stolen. I came looking for Thor, actually."
"Yeah? Well I don't see him down here."
"I know," Loki said impatiently. "I arrived during the storm last night and slept at his … house. He thinks I am a drunken dream or a ghost. I got tired of trying to reason with him. Children are so much more perceptive." The Valkyrie did not reply this time. Loki sighed and stepped a little closer. "If you're going to hit me, do it, because I'm not going to apologize for being left for dead and surviving what ought to have killed me."
Surprisingly, Brunnhilde's eyes shone with tears and she jutted her dusky chin at him defiantly. Instead of slapping or punching him, she gave him a little shove instead. "Well, now Thor swearing off drink makes sense," she commented with a slight smile. "Go on up and talk to him. We'll have some sort of gatehring tonight, I suppose?"
"If you can spare the wood for a bonfire," Loki smiled.
"We're good," the Valkyrie snorted. "Thor and his pet rock split wood for a hobby when they're bored."
~I~N~~T~H~E~~E~N~D~G~A~M~E~~N~O~W~
Loki hesitated to knock on the house's door again. His blanket and clothes were still inside. Did that mean the house was his too? After a moment of indecision, he turned the door handle, finding it unlocked, and let himself in. The boulder-like Kronan was in the living room, playing an electronic game on the TV. The small controller in his huge hands looked so ludicrous that Loki almost laughed. Instead he gathered up his dry clothing from where he had hung it last night, folded it, and stowed it all back in his dimensional pocket. At some point, Korg had paused the game and started watching him. His stony face was hard to read.
"Do you know where my brother is?" Loki asked him politely.
"His room," Korg answered right away. "Just took a shower for the first time in weeks."
"Good for him," Loki muttered, feeling strangely uncomfortable that his arrival had shaken Thor that much. He felt still more uncomfortable at the thought of what his 'death' had done to the Mighty Thor in the last five years. "I suppose I'll go find him," Loki sighed. He left the Kronan and went to the small hallway leading to the back door. The bathroom was open and there was one door next to it that was closed. On Loki's left, the other door was much larger (big enough for Korg's bulk) and it was slightly open.
Loki rapped on the closed bedroom door, suddenly recalling the hundreds of thousands of times it had been Thor instead, knocking on Loki's door, begging him to come out, to leave his books, to join his friends outside …
Thor opened the door, fully dressed in (clean) Midgardian clothing, struggling to detangle his matted hair with his thick fingers. Silently, Loki conjured his hairbrush and handed it over. An olive branch, of sorts.
"L-Loki," Thor spluttered in wide-eyed shock, not moving to take the brush.
"Judging from the state of your hair, you do not own a hairbrush," Loki responded impatiently. "Take it. Those dreadlocks are driving me to distraction."
Thor reached up and took the hairbrush, still with that stupid look on his face, and stepped back, a clear invitation into the room. Loki hesitated, but he realized that this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have in front of Korg, so he stepped in, closed the door, and looked around for a place to sit. Thor's room was as much of a mess as the rest of the house, and Thor was clearly embarrassed about it. Loki ignored it, (a very nice gesture on his part, he thought) and very discretely went and cracked the window to get some air.
"I've been in worse places," Loki said lightly as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.
"I'm s-sorry, Brother," Thor stuttered desperately, the hairbrush still held uselessly in one hand. "I should have started there. I'm sorry. For everything."
"Everything?" Loki raised a sarcastic eyebrow. "My, that's an awful lot to be sorry for."
"You know what I mean, Loki," Thor sighed, his face pinching as he looked away. "I'm sorry for wasting my life after all you did to save it. I'm sorry for getting angry with you about … his name. I'm sorry for … failing you. For failing Asgard."
Loki groaned and rubbed his face. This was not going to be easy, was it? "Thor," he snapped. "Look at me."
Thor obediently straightened up and looked him steadfastly in the eye. The glassy, hopeless look from before was gone. There was shame and sorrow in his face, but under it was determination, hope … joy. Thor of old was still there.
"I am back," Loki said firmly. "I am real. You need to stop bargaining with my phantom and come to the realization that we are together again. For better or for worse, I do not know. But you are being sorry for entirely the wrong things. Yes, you've been a pathetic baby the last five years. Yes, you squandered my sacrifice abominably. But you didn't fail Asgard and you didn't fail me. How could you have? Asgard is still here, isn't it? My goal was to die at Thanos' hands so he wouldn't kill you. You didn't fail me, Thor. My plan worked out exactly as I had hoped … and yes, you failed to kill the Titan before he snapped half the universe into dust, but I suppose I did have a bit too much faith in your invincibility. I do not fault you for failing. I fault you for giving up."
Thor blinked and swallowed, tears suddenly gushing from his eye and pouring down his cheek. Loki gave him a slight smile.
"Aren't you going to say something?" Loki asked in a teasing tone. "I'm aware that you're usually lost for words after my speeches, but this time, I'd really like an answer."
In answer, Thor smothered a sob, rushed forward, and hugged him tightly. Loki coughed in surprise as the air was crushed out of his lungs, but he was durable enough to handle it. He gingerly patted Thor's back in return and tried to let himself relax a little. Being so tense, he felt like he was getting crushed.
"I'm sorry for giving up, Brother," Thor whispered tearfully into his shoulder. "I should not have."
"No, you shouldn't have," Loki mumbled back, his face smashed into Thor's T-shirt. "But I suppose you're allowed to be as weak as the next man."
"I'm sorry for treating you like you didn't matter, all those years," Thor sobbed openly, clutching him even tighter. "Losing you … it was like losing my soul. I couldn't live anymore. I needed you. I still need you. I'm so sorry for taking so long to realize it."
Loki wheezed for air and managed to push back so he could see Thor's face. "I forgive you," he said quietly, fully aware of how significant those simple words were. Then he broke the solemn moment by smirking, though it was tinged with sadness. "And if anything, I'm the one who should be sorry, especially about … earlier. You … I was too hard on you. I can't imagine what state I'd be in if our stations had been reversed. I would probably be dead."
"Loki …"
"I would have probably killed myself before the first year was up," Loki went on frankly. "You know … that's what I tried to do before when I fell from the Bifrost."
Thor flinched and shivered, his eyes growing distant and vaguely panicked. "You're back to stay … right?"
"I don't know," Loki replied grimly. "There are things that need doing; villains that need killing. I was hoping you might aid me in my quest."
"But … in the last five years … Loki, what have you been doing?"
"Trying to find you, if you'll believe it," Loki replied with a shrug. He looked off at the muddy hills outside the window and relished the cold, fresh breeze blowing through the stale, odiferous air of Thor's bedroom.
The god of thunder suddenly took a deep breath and stepped back a little more to give his brother space. "How …? How did you get here? How did you find me?"
"It is a long and very dull story," Loki smiled, glancing back at his adopted brother.
"I want to hear it," Thor said firmly, his eyes alight once more.
"Brush your hair," Loki ordered him. "Or so help me, I'll cut it. You looked quite flattering with short hair before, you know."
Thor snorted. "Not my best look," he grumbled.
"I prefer it to … this," Loki sneered teasingly. He gestured at Thor's wet, matted hair and beard, and Thor burst out laughing. Loki chuckled too. It felt almost like old times, when they were brothers and carefree and young, without tragedy and death haunting their steps and their dreams.
"Norns," Thor murmured once the levity died down. "Has it only been fifteen years?"
"You were thinking of it too," Loki replied, looking away again to hide the moisture in his eyes.
"How could I not? I have thought of little else in the last five years."
"Moping and moaning about the past makes one forget to live in the present," Loki said severely, giving his brother a slight frown. "I hope you are not going to beg me to become the brother you remember. I am different, Thor. As are you. Neither of us can go back."
"I know it," Thor replied at once. "Believe me, I do. I don't know how to be this new Thor, relating to a new Loki … but I will do my best."
"Hmm," Loki hummed skeptically. "Well, Brunnhilde wants to arrange a feast tonight for everyone and I plan to put the bards to shame with my tale. I trust you can keep the weather fair until then?"
Thor looked surprised, and then he smiled wistfully. At nearly every feast since he had earned his title, God of Thunder, Odin had made some comment about the weather, thanking him if it were fair, playfully scolding him if it were not … It was a running joke and no one got tired of it.
"I think I can manage that," Thor responded with a playful smile.
"Good!" Loki grinned mischievously, and stood up. "I'd best go see what preparations they need help with, seeing as I'm probably the last Seidr-master left in Asgard."
"Wait!" Thor protested, jumping in between Loki and the door. "You can't just leave me like this! What happened to you? Why did it take you five years to find me?"
"Oh fine," Loki rolled his eyes. "I woke up on a scavenger ship and later they sold me into slavery. I managed to get free, earned my way across the universe until I reached Alfheim, and then worked for the Alfar mages for nine months before I could convince them to open their ancient portal to Midgard. And here I am." Thor looked stunned and confused, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Loki smiled and tapped the hairbrush in Thor's hand. "Get yourself presentable, clean this house, and maybe if there is time before tonight, we can talk more. Agreed?"
Without waiting for Thor's reply, Loki left the room. On the way out, he shouted at Korg to get up off his rocky backside and help Thor clean the house, and then he left. It was crips and cool outside, but not cold. Not that it mattered. Asgardians never turned down an excuse for a party, no matter what the temperature. Most Aesir were hardy enough that even the frigid temperatures once the sun went down wouldn't deter people from coming together for food and dancing. Loki was glad to be back, and it was more convenient to simply tell his story once to everyone. He told himself that he really wasn't simply aching for a feast just so they could all be together and celebrate something small after all their loss. Judging from Thor's appearance and demeanor, he didn't think there had been any feasts in the last five years. He wanted to hear stories too. Perhaps some people could be prevailed upon to recite how they had fared on their way to Midgard in the escape pods. Loki wasn't the only one who had stories to tell, after all.
~I~N~~T~H~E~~E~N~D~G~A~M~E~~N~O~W~
It was actually late when Thor and Korg finished inside the house. They had picked up the garbage, swept, dusted, and even mopped, and now the house was as clean as they could make it. The Valkyrie stopped by, gave Thor a knowing smirk when she saw the clean entrance hall, and asked if the King could be prevailed upon to preside at a feast to welcome his Brother home. Thor actually started to cry. It was slowly becoming real for him.
Loki was really back.
Near dark, Thor and Korg left the house, carrying some crates of Thor's hoarded alcoholic stash. Mead must flow at a feast, or it wasn't a feast at all. Tony Stark had once casually mentioned that one must drink when they were happy or else not at all. That was rich coming from a man who had once been a chronic alcoholic himself, but Thor realized now how true that was. Alcohol was not to numb the pain of loss or despair; it was meant for rejoicing. Better that the citizens of New Asgard enjoy Thor's stash, because he wasn't keeping it around to tempt him anymore.
A bonfire had been set up in the square, and a lot of tables. Loki had conjured illusions of banners and tapestries to hang around the square, and people were bustling to and fro, chatting, laughing, and even crying. Every so often, Thor saw that someone would go up to Loki and say something to him, and he would always pause what he was doing and give them his undivided attention. Thor's eyes swelled with tears again. His brother was home.
"The drinks go over there!" Loki shouted at them above the hubbub. He pointed at a long table where someone had brought a barrel of something that might have been an attempt at mead, and there were other crates, including the two familiar ones Valkyrie had gotten at a discount because they were expired. The houses lining the square were being used to cook the feast, and good smells filled the crisp air. A few women bustled around the mead table, polishing glasses and cups, setting out the bottles of their selection, and chattering happily with one another. Thor delivered his cargo, thanked the improvised barmaids, and left to find his brother, musing that this was New Asgard's first official feast, barring the celebration they'd had in Wakanda when the refugees had arrived. It had been a small thing, and filled with more tears than laughter. This was a true feast. Children raced to and fro, laughing and the tops of their lungs, women bustled around with food and dishes, laughing and calling to each other, men arranged tables and chairs, helped Loki pin up decorations, and their attitude was festive and cheerful. He wondered whether Loki was only using magic on these things, because most of the banners looked real.
"Loki!" Thor called out. His brother flashed him an annoyed look from atop the chair he was using as a step stool, and went back to whatever it was he was doing with a long roll of dull Midgardian ribbon. "Need some help?"
"The King doesn't help set up a feast," Loki retorted haughtily. With a flourish, the ribbon turned bright gold and glittered almost like the real thing. Grinning in triumph, the god of mischief passed it up to the man on the ladder. "Loop it above the banner there and pin it to both corners," he ordered the man.
"A Prince wouldn't normally help set up his own welcoming feast either," Thor pointed out.
"The Seidr-guild always helps with the decorations," Loki huffed as he unfolded a bolt of plain cream-colored cloth. "I'm the only mage left, as you see, and my skills are needed. What are your skills, pray tell?"
"I've made certain that the sky is clear for tonight," Thor pointed out with a smile.
The men on the ladders chuckled appreciatively. One of them who had his hands free clapped his fist to heart and bowed a little. Thor waved and smiled at him.
"Well, continue to do so, because if you ruin my decorations …" Loki fixed Thor with a scowl that they both knew was totally joking.
"I swear on my throne you shall have compensation if so much as a single raindrop mars your work, Brother," Thor replied solemnly.
"Good enough," Loki smirked. "Well, what are you waiting for? If you want to help, get up on that ladder and hold the other end of this fabric. I can't decide what I want to do with it yet."
Thor obeyed, paying more attention to Loki himself than to his chatter. His blue eyes were brighter than Thor ever remembered them being, and he was talking so fast and his magic was so beautiful as it covered the cheap off-white cloth in illusions of grandeur and lost memory … Yet, when a small boy ran up to his chair, excitedly asking him if he really was Prince Loki and if he had really come home, Loki interrupted himself to gently tell the child that yes, he was home. A young girl, no more than eighty or so, came up to him with a bundle of flowers that looked almost real. Thor had to look again to be sure they weren't, and his senses told him they were made out of paper and enhanced with a touch of magic. Loki smiled proudly and asked her to find vases for them and set one on each table. The girl boldly announced that she would put two vases on the head table, and scurried off, beaming with happiness.
"Everyone is overjoyed that you are home, Brother," Thor said quietly, knowing that Loki could hear him. "Yet none are as happy as I. I still keep shaking myself for fear I am lost in the most wonderful dream."
Loki gave him a serious look. "I am glad to be home also," he said just as softly. "Which is a good thing, because I'm in too fine a mood to be bothered by all these interruptions. Hold your end higher! I'm almost done."
The finished tapestry looked quite nice: a representation of the banner that had always hung above the king's table at an important feast. But Loki had changed it. Instead of the white-haired Odin, there was Thor, wider of girth than he had been, and his long beard looked like Volstagg's. In one hand, instead of Gungnir, he held Stormbreaker. A fine image of Loki stood at his left, where the crown prince would normally stand, (since Loki was now first in line for the Throne) and there was a little gap where the Queen would stand if Thor had one. Spread out on either side of Thor and Loki were no Einherjar in golden armour, or nobles in fine garments … instead, there were the villagers of New Asgard, their humble clothing filled out and stylized after the manner of court nobles. Thor gaped at it, until Loki used his seidr to levitate the banner so the men on either side of the square could affix it above the King's table. The image on the off-white banner, rendered in lines of colour like the most beautiful tapestry, would not last long after Loki stopped pouring power into the illusion. He cautioned the men on ladders not to touch the image on the cloth, and they were very careful to only touch the edges of the banner. When it was done, Loki sagged with relief, and nearly fell off the chair. Thor jumped down from his ladder and grabbed him almost before he knew what he was doing.
"Thor!" Loki protested, pushing away and getting off the chair himself.
"You need to be careful," Thor admonished him, trying to hide the pounding of his heart. Yes, falling from a chair wouldn't even bruise an Asgardian, but the slightest hint of danger to his brother made Thor panic. He couldn't lose Loki again.
"I need to be careful?" Loki repeated, giving him a strange look. "Thor, I was three feet off the ground."
"Still ..." Thor trailed off.
Loki shook him off with another odd look. "You really need to stop it," he snapped. "I'm flesh and blood; not glass. And I think I've proven that I'm rather durable, haven't I?"
Thor let it go. Loki was impossible to reason with on the subject of what counted as danger and what didn't, anyway. "You have worked so hard, Brother," he said instead, attempting to sound cheerful. "I think the square looks incredible. You did an astounding job. An entire guild couldn't have done better."
Loki nodded thoughtfully as he looked around at the decorations he had created. "I overdid it, didn't I?" he suddenly grumbled. "This isn't Gladsheim. What was I thinking?"
Thor caught his brother's hand before he could raise and simplify or take anything down. "I think you overdid it, yes, but only because you worked too hard on this. It's perfect. New Asgard has needed something like this for four years."
"No feasts in four years?" Loki repeated incredulously. "Well small wonder everyone is glad to see me. They're probably dying for an excuse to dance and make merry."
"My fault," Thor murmured.
"Of course it's your fault," Loki agreed. "This whole feast is your fault."
"Mine?" Thor choked. "But I had nothing to do with this!"
"Which means the people could have had a feast on their own anytime," Loki pointed out with a smirk. "Is my point made yet?"
Thor chuckled despite himself, slightly embarrassed, and still feeling guilty for some reason. "I missed your wit, Loki."
"If I represent the brains between us, small wonder you've ended up like this without my guiding presence," Loki teased, jabbing Thor in his substantial stomach, which he knew had always been ticklish. With a surprised laugh, he tried to grab Loki, but he darted away when Thor attempted to nab him.
The god of mischief grinned at him and wandered off, likely to check on other aspects of the party. Thor helped the men put away the ladders and then helped a couple of the men light the bonfire and the lanterns. Loki had conjured green balls of flame inside paper lanterns spaced in between the metal ones. Thor then found himself called upon to help a group of children decorate the tables with tablecloths, paper flowers, and ribbon. Once that was done, the women covered the tables in food and drink, and everyone was hustled to their chairs. Thor felt nervous, but stepped up to the King's table beside Loki, and his mouth went dry as he realized that he had to start the feast with the King's speech. Father had always given a speech to welcome their guests, reiterate the reason for their gathering, and call on the Norns to bless their meal, their songs, their dancing, and their time with one another. It was tradition as ancient as Asgard's people before there was an Asgard to begin with … and Thor had no idea what to say.
Loki was no help, giving him an innocently expectant smile as if asking when he was going to start. The Valkyrie, seated near the mead table, raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. Several children fidgeted and their parents hushed them. Thor swallowed hard and fought the tears in his eyes. He was terrible at speeches, but he had heard a thousand years' worth of pre-feast speeches from Odin's mouth, so it really shouldn't be too hard.
"My people," Thor started, his voice cracking. There was utter silence, save for the snapping of the bonfire and the flutter of a few banners in the cold wind. "People of New Asgard," Thor added in a softer tone. "It has been a long time since we gathered together to feast, to rejoice in our lives, and to spend time with each other. I am eternally grateful that every one of you contributed to this, to make tonight a night to remember. Applaud yourselves!"
The applause was interspersed with some laughter, and nearly everyone had pleased or shy smiles on their faces. Odin had occasionally brought attention to the fineness of their cooks or servers or whatnot, so Thor didn't see why he couldn't point out that his people had a right to be proud. Look at what they had done in less than a day!
"You all know what prompted this celebration," Thor said with more confidence. "But I'm supposed to say it anyway. My brother, your prince, Loki of Asgard, has returned to us, safe and alive." Thor blinked the tears from his eye, but they poured down his cheek anyway. "Thank the Norns for this miracle."
The applause was deafening. Many were openly crying as they smiled and cheered. Loki was actually blushing, but at least he was smiling. Thor had to eventually raise his hands for silence.
"I know I have not been as good a King for you as I ought, and certainly not as good a King as you deserve. But Loki's return has woken me from my self-pity and despair. Yes, we have lost much. We are strangers in a strange land. We are struggling to carve a life for ourselves in exile. But there is still much to be thankful for. We yet live, do we not? We are beginning to thrive. There are young generations rising up, giving us hope for the future. Loki's return has proven that we are Asgardians, and we are not beaten easily."
Again, there was a deafening cheer. Many cheered for King Thor, and Long Live the King, and For Asgard. Thor wiped the tears from his face and raised his hands again. The gathered people of New Asgard quieted down expectantly.
"I'm not good with speeches, you know this," Thor said apologetically. "So I am going to end this, simply by saying that we are all grateful for Loki's return, and we welcome him back with joy and relief. And if my silver-tongued brother wants to add to that, he is more than welcome." Thor affectionately thumped Loki on the shoulder and stepped back slightly. Loki looked a little surprised, and exasperated. He shook his head at Thor with a sigh, and turned to address the village.
"Not good with speeches, do you believe that?" Loki complained. The people laughed appreciatively and beamed at their King. "Hmm, now I'm going to have to somehow beat that speech or I'll lose my title of Silvertongue." More laughter and cheers of encouragement. Loki cleared his throat and his smile faded. "Five years ago, I remained aboard the Statesman with … my brother while you bravely crossed the unknown cosmos, eventually coming to rest here. I fully expected to die that day. One might say … I was ready."
Solemn silence descended on the gathered people.
"But the Norns had a different fate in mind for me, it seems. For when I awoke, I was not in the halls of Valhalla, nor in the pits of Hel … I was aboard a scavenger ship." Loki paused and seemed to gather himself. "Those shameful vultures of the void gathered the bodies of many who died that day, simply to loot them. In exchange for the privilege of landing on an isolated world to commend the bodies of Asgard's brave warriors to a funeral pyre … I offered to serve them for a time. Less than a month later, they betrayed our agreement and sold me as a slave on a remote world I had never heard of."
The silence of the crowd was now full of quiet horror and sympathy. Thor did not dare move. He was holding his breath.
"I eventually escaped, for you all know I am nothing if not resourceful, and made my way from that nameless world to Nidavellir. Many of you know the name. It is a colony of dwarves, kept hidden from most. I thought to secure transport from there to Midgard, where I knew you had come … but I found only King Eitri and a very small number of his people, the only surviving dwarves in the universe."
Thor wanted to interrupt, to ask how many of the dwarves had survived and how they had managed to hide. But he could ask later tonight when it was just the two of them. He held his tongue and listened to Loki's tale.
"In exchange for some precious things I had managed to hold onto throughout my travels, I convinced one of the Dwarven traders to take me to Vanaheim, hoping I could find a way to reach Midgard or find news of the Asgardian refugees. There I stayed with the Lady Sif and the Asgardian soldiers still stationed in that Realm."
Thor sucked in a sharp breath. Sif was alive. Not only was she alive, but there were still soldiers of Asgard stationed on Vanaheim, Alfheim, and possibly Ria and Nornheim as well. He hadn't even thought of that.
"I know many of you already know that I was on Vanaheim, thanks to the messages I gave many of you. From Vanaheim, after a few months, I was able to secure passage to Ria, and from there to Nornheim. A holy woman of that Realm heard my plight and advised me to seek out Alfheim, and request them to open their ancient portal to Midgard. My journey to Alfheim was long and arduous, but I at last reached it, only to have every door closed in my face." Loki dragged in a long breath and held it. "I was exhausted, penniless at last, and helpless. Alfheim was my last hope. I had no means to go anywhere else. I became ill, and was taken in by the Elf-Mages of the Emerald Mountains. When they nursed me back to health, and after they heard my tale, they set before me several impossible tasks. If I completed them, the mages would open the old portal for me." Loki paused and smiled. "I could go on and on, but the food can only stay fresh under warming spells for so long, and I am sure some budding skald among you will set my tale to poetry before too long. So I will say this: I completed every last task to their satisfaction, they opened the portal, and I arrived last night in the midst of the worst ice-storm I've ever experienced, save for that one time in Jotunheim." He smirked over at Thor. "I'll leave that tale for another time. But my brother the King welcomed me home, and I am grateful that all of are so …" Loki hesitated, his face suddenly open and vulnerable. He took a deep breath, blinking moisture from his eyes. "I am grateful that you are all so forgiving of me and my faults. I love Asgard and her people. All I have ever done, was for Asgard, even when I was blinded and deluded and mad, still I thought myself working for Asgard. I care not where I was born, or what the colour of my blood may be, for here is home. Asgard is in the hearts of her people, and I am Loki of Asgard. I will never be anyone else."
The cheers, the weeping, the applause … it was deafening. Thor himself was crying freely. He grabbed his brother and pulled him into a fierce hug, which Loki returned with almost equal strength.
"Welcome home, Brother," Thor whispered through his tears. "But you forgot to throw in a quip about the weather."
"You forgot first," Loki protested with a little laugh. "It's the King's job, and I'm done doing the King's work for him."
Thor laughed and hugged his little brother more fiercely. "I love you, Brother,"
"I ... suppose ... I love you too," Loki whispered very quietly. "Oaf," he added impishly.
~I~N~~T~H~E~~E~N~D~G~A~M~E~~N~O~W~
Thank you all for all the love, and for your reviews etc. They make me so, so happy! The last few days I've added two more chapters to this story, so I'm ahead in the game. Will try to post a new chapter every week, fingers crossed. ;)