- Chapter 40 -

Fandral felt vaguely ill. He looked to Thor again. Thor was just as stunned as he'd been moments before. He wanted to wipe the tears from Thor's face and make him smile again. He looked around the room again. Lord Odin was still holding his Lady wife, who was glassy eyed and shaking. There were tears trickling down her cheeks. Lord Frey had an awful, resigned look on his face and was breathing slowly. His companions looked as unsettled as he felt.

Prince Loki traded a heartstring. He traded it for mortals. There is no doubt now. No mage could ever lie about something so serious. Everything we've seen is the truth, it must be. A Norn walked among us. And we are seeing the truth. Fandral's world turned on its side and he desperately wanted it to go back to normal. He hadn't believed that she was a Norn. Norns didn't leave their temple. They didn't. Everyone knew this. Everyone knew how weak Prince Loki was too. Fandral's thoughts spiraled around and around the same four points.

Prince Loki traded a heartstring.

No weak invalid could have traded a heartstring.

Prince Loki did this to defend Asgard by himself.

How did the Prince do this?

Fandral looked around the room again. He placed a hand on the top of his leg and pinched. No, not a nightmare. He wished it were a nightmare, then he could wake up and everything could go back to the way it was supposed to be. Nothing will ever be the same again. He was so sure that Prince Loki was a weakling. He was so sure of himself. Prince Loki was easily sickened as a child. He was weak. Prince Loki was easily injured as a young man when they went adventuring. He was weak. Prince Loki constantly complained to Thor, "Why must we do this, Thor? If you must do this, why not do so in an easier and safer manner?" He was weak. Fandral had been so sure of himself.

The surety Fandral lived his life with was fading as he conceded that the strength it must have taken, not only to agree to such wicked terms but to then have gone through with it, was staggering. No mere weakling could have willingly traded a heartstring and then survived the taking of it. I've thought you a weakling all the centuries, and I've been wrong. I'm wrong. Prince Loki is no weakling, but I've merrily made sport of him for it.

Fandral felt well and truly sick then. I have merrily made sport of someone I thought weaker than me. He closed his eyes. For a moment, his mind traveled back to a time when he was much younger. The phantom pain from the blows still lingered in his memories, as did the tearing sounds of cloth. The humiliation of weakness burned through him again. He remembered thinking that he would never be so evil, he would be better than that wicked man. He would never be like his father. But I have been, haven't I?

Fandral pinched his leg again. I want to wake up from this nightmare!

Volstagg sat quietly thinking, I wish I had a nice roast boar, that would let me work through this. He didn't like the pall hanging over the room. It made him nervous to see not only Thor, but his Lord and Lady, so distraught. Even Lord Frey looked miserable. It wasn't uncommon in recent years for Thor to be ill-tempered. Ever since Prince Loki betrayed him during his coronation Thor was easily angered and often in a foul mood. Volstagg was so angry with Prince Loki for that. For centuries Thor was an affable companion, ever good-humored and smiling. Prince Loki had taken that smile, and Volstagg couldn't stop from feeling violently inclined towards his dear friend's Little Brother. More than anger though, there was a simmering disappointment.

As a father himself, Volstagg understood that two people could be siblings and still be very different. More than a dozen children of his own taught him that lesson firsthand. This and patience, as well as the ability to take a situation as it was and work with what he had. Volstagg found the unpredictability of children was almost as useful for training the mind for battle as actual battle was. His thoughts drifted briefly to his brood. I need to get them something nice before I return home again. More than a roast boar, he thought having his wife by his side would be most welcome. Her calm, splendid smile would do much to improve his mood. Hildegund's radiant beauty never failed to cheer his heart. As Volstagg looked around the room he thought, Some cheer might do us all good.

Before going back to his thoughts Volstagg looked about the room. While he'd always thought that Thor was the best of the two of them, he also always thought that if Prince Loki would try harder then he could be better. Volstagg tried over the years to act as another Elder Brother to the younger Prince. He tried to set an upstanding example for the lad. While Fandral always considered the Prince too weak to go on the merry adventures that were so frequent in their youth. Volstagg always held the opposite opinion. It was healthy for the young Prince to come along. He believed that coddling the boy would only encourage the weakness that seemed to cling to him. He tried to cheer Prince Loki on as he'd tried to keep up with Thor. He never thought the boy would be able to keep up, but it strengthened him to try. He, like everyone else, had believed Prince Loki to be weak.

I've been wrong all these years. Volstagg could feel the anger he held close disappearing. It was slowly being replaced by confusion, respect, and a healthy amount of guilt. He tried to set an example for the boy but hadn't made sure that the boy was well. He simply assumed that Prince Loki's smile meant he was well enough. As he looked back through his memories he realized that he should've seen it. There were signs that all wasn't well with the younger Prince.

Volstagg watched as Prince Loki took up anything that he thought would make Lord Odin proud. When the Lord showed no interest, Prince Loki would drop whatever it was, no matter how much he'd already invested in it, then quietly move on to the next thing. He watched as Prince Loki had pushed himself in the sparring ring to no avail. The younger Prince was injured many times, and needlessly so, when he'd refused to leave the ring. The Lord paid him no mind, only noting Thor's progress. Prince Loki began withdrawing from them eventually. It was slow, but it became more and more noticeable as time went on. Volstagg hadn't thought anything of it at the time. Then there was that awful incident in the arena. The Prince wasn't the same after that. Volstagg watched it all unfold but did nothing to stop it. He hadn't looked further than the smile on Prince Loki's face. He thought the amicable banter was enough.

Looking to Thor again, Volstagg sighed quietly. He wanted to cheer his dear friend, to see him smile again. After this, will he ever smile again? Will any of us? While some part of him wanted to still be angry with Prince Loki for attacking Thor, another part of him wondered if maybe the younger Prince was just lashing out in pain. His own little ones did that from time to time. Both he and Hildegund always tried to ease their pain before taking them to task over their poor behavior. Volstagg didn't think anyone had tried that with Prince Loki. He was ashamed of himself then. Ashamed that he hadn't aided someone who so clearly needed aid. Ashamed that he held anger in his heart for someone who stood in defense of both him and his family. Ashamed that he'd listened to and spread the rumors of Prince Loki's jealousy of Thor. Mostly Volstagg was ashamed that even though he'd known Prince Loki for centuries he hadn't taken the time to truly get to know him. He was always Thor's Little Brother, nothing more. Any man who would do what you have done, Prince Loki, is a man I would be proud to have an ale with. Volstagg huffed another sigh, I owe him an apology. I owe him my thanks. I owe Prince Loki. What a strange and grim day this is.