- Chapter 25 -

Still trying to avoid shivering as their bargain activated again, she tensed slightly again. Once more the seidr in her blood produced a powerful desire to tell him what he wanted to know. The edges of the deep scar on her chest began to tingle. "The truth," Loki shrugged, "is that it was ink."

"Ink? As in you write with it? That ink?" Tony asked. He shook his head. "Why is nothing ever simple with you?"

A laugh bubbled up from Loki. "Have you met me?" she asked sweetly. She looked down at her lap, his eyes were still dark with anger. "It was Spell Sealed Ink. Any serious mage is careful with their spell and alchemy ingredients. This is often because of their scarcity or, like Spell Sealed Ink, because of how poisonous some of them can be. The ink is made from Da'Akra spider venom. Despite being so widely used by people who are naturally cautious, it still kills a few young mages every century," Loki switched into her teaching voice briefly.

This was the voice that normally excited Tony because it meant he was about to have his mind expanded. Today it made him impatient. "Aren't those the spiders that the dark elves farm for silk to make skaerevefer-glass from?"

Rubbing at her left elbow, Loki sighed, a little disappointed that this was still happening. Although the wound was healed, her bones still ached slightly every now and again. "Yes, the same."

.-.-.-.

Dark elves farming spiders? That's where skaerevefer-glass comes from? How does Stark know that? "Father, I thought there were no dark elves left. I thought they died in the battle to prevent the Aether from being unleashed." Thor was beginning to suspect that there were many things he didn't know. He couldn't imagine that he'd been deliberately misinformed. There was no reason for that.

"Absolutely not, boy. Vanaheim still trades with them, so do the other realms," Frey told him before Odin could answer. He knew a great deal about the Svartalfr, more than anyone in the room.

Only once had Hogun ever been to Svartalfheim, that was with Thor. Beyond the endless black and grey sands there were only bones to dead animals that they could never find the living herds of. An unnatural stillness hung over the realm making it seem eerily dead. Even the wind gusting out of the grey skies to sweep over bleak sands was quiet. Thor would never admit it, but Hogun knew that it was the oppressive silence that drove them all back to Asgard. He'd never been so happy to hear the sounds of birds as he was when they reached the city proper.

"Frey! He wasn't speaking to you," Odin snapped as he turned to Frey.

"Perhaps you should properly educate the boy," Frey shot back. He looked back at Thor. "It was Malekith and his clan, The Adherents of the Dark Mother, who were destroyed in the war. The dark elves are a society of clans. Any clan not allied with the Adherents couldn't be bothered to care about the war or Asgardians walking the surface of Svartalfheim. So long as it doesn't cross their borders, then it's beneath their notice. It was the Adherents were all killed at the end of the war. Malekith himself was the one who killed them when it became clear that they were going to lose. It was all or nothing for him."

"Then there are the dark elves left on Svartalfheim? Where are they? I've been to Svartalfheim once, it was barren," Thor was truly confused. The surface of Svartalfheim was a wasteland of sandy dunes. There was the occasional set of animal bones of animals that were never seen, a great many types of lichen covering the rocky expanse and dust storms. There were many entrances to seemingly endless caves. He didn't explore any of them. There were far too many. That was all he saw there. There were no trees, nor ground plants or even water. Svartalfheim was just a vast empty desert.

It was times like this that Frey was reminded of the limitations of Frigga's teachings. It was almost ridiculous to think of the next Lord of Asgard being so uninformed. Frey gave Odin sour look that was wholeheartedly returned. When he looked back to Thor, Frey made a concerted effort to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Frigga was sitting in the same room, and he'd upset her enough for one day. He didn't want to be the source of anymore of her irritation. "They are called 'dark elves' for a reason, boy. Where do you think they live?"

Dark. They're dark. Do they live in the dark? Understanding dawned on him. "Underground!" Thor wondered why he didn't know this. Why didn't his tutors tell him? He couldn't understand that.

"Just so, boy," Frey smiled and nodded.

"Perhaps you should properly educate the boy," his uncle said. Thor suddenly understood Frey's endless irritation with him. He'd never put thought to it. He simply assumed it was because of his uncle's dislike of his father. That wasn't it. His uncle considered him uneducated. Is that what all the scrolls I had to write were? He was trying to educate me. Uncle Frey never has had patience for fools, he thought sourly. What Thor didn't understand was why Frey was watching Loki so intently as he rubbed at his elbow. Frey looked almost put out with Loki's elbow. How strange this day is.

.-.-.-.

It was always so exhausting just talking about these things. Loki took a deep breath before continuing. "I was seven hundred and sixty-three by the time I made my second attempt. It was summer again," Loki stopped to think about how much detail she wanted to provide. How much did she want to think about this? "It was the anniversary of Leddi's death, and I was just tired. I was tired of Thor's constant overbearing bullying, tired of constantly being made sport of by his companions, tired of everyone from the serving staff to the peasants laughing and pointing and not even bothering to whisper as they spoke poorly of me. I was tired of trying and failing to earn any interest from my father. I was tired of my mother's empty assurances that 'Your father loves you,' and, 'Your father is proud of you,' when the opposite was so painfully obvious. Even the peasantry could see Odin's disdain for me, yet she constantly lied to my face," there was very little bitterness left in Loki's voice. She'd long ago accepted what life in Asgard would be. It was why she left.

There was nothing in that statement that Tony was unaware of, it always made it hard to understand why Loki had sacrificed everything for people who didn't return her love.

.-.-.-.

The name struck Thor like a blow to the head. He remembered Leddi, couldn't forget. He never apologized to Loki, never gained an apology from Loki. They silently agreed to never speak of it, yet there it was.

Thor always felt a certain guilt for what happened. He didn't mean for the duel to end as it did. He only wanted to teach the boy a lesson. He never meant for it to go any farther than that. Thor hadn't thought about that ill-fated duel in centuries. Looking back on it, he felt a certain sickness at his own actions. He was callous and cruel, laughing at the youth's fear. Honestly, he never meant to hurt Leddi, never meant to hurt Loki. It was only that he wanted to scare him away from Loki. He told the boy that he wasn't a worthy companion for a Prince of Asgard. That was a lie. The ugly truth was that Thor was jealous. Loki spent so much time with Leddi that he barely had any time left for his own brother. The laughter, smiles, and time that were always Thor's were suddenly being given to some scrawny book-nose. He just wanted to have things back to the way they were. Thor could never have envisioned the dire wrath Loki ended up visiting on Baldur as retribution. He'd only wanted his Little Brother back. It all went so wrong.

Had what happened with Leddi caused Loki to make another attempt on his own life? Why mention it if it wasn't so? Little Brother, I am so sorry. I should never have done it. Is it too late now? Too late to apologize? Too late to ask for forgiveness?