5: Silence is Golden, and so is Fire (Depending on the Composition of the Element it is Burning)

Viren is nearly asleep the first time he sees him. A tall, purple-skinned man– no, he must be an elf– in Thunder's mirror. His dark cloak swirls around him as he stalks across the room, scanning the bookshelves.

He turns, and his gaze falls on the mirror. Instinctively, Viren pulls away, but the elf merely sighs and turns to leave.

"No!" Viren leaps to his feet, clutching at the mirror's frame. "No, don't go!" The elf is the only thing he's seen in the mirror! He must be important!

And someone comes back through the door.

Viren startles again to see a different man, this one seemingly human, walk into the room and stare at the mirror. His lips move as if saying something, but Viren cannot hear the words.

Two men imprisoned in the dragon's mirror? And one a human?

Viren's desire to solve the mystery of the mirror grows daily, until one day, as he looks at the mirror… the elf looks back.

It is still dark when Aaravos runs, cat-footed, to the library, stopping and continuing calmly to the mirror, in case the dark mage has somehow figured out the mirror's secret.

The man does not see Aaravos at first, as he expected. Then the man extinguishes his candle and approaches the mirror.

He knows.

Aaravos smiles, and places a hand on the glass.

Loki raises an eyebrow when Aaravos suddenly drops his book and dashes out of the room. Then, he returns to his reading.

He is certain that Aaravos will alert him if there is an emergency.

Aaravos looks at the mage steadily for several seconds, then nods once and turns to leave. He knows exactly where the things he needs are; he collected them all over the past few months, arranging them carefully close by, but not within sight (just in case Avizandum reacquired the mirror).

The mage is somewhat upset when Aaravos returns, as if he thought Aaravos had left.

….perhaps that makes sense, considering that he cannot know Aaravos is imprisoned.

Aaravos shows the mage his ingredients, doing his best to make clear that the mage needs those same ingredients. He knows he has succeeded when the mage returns with one item after the next.

Where is Loki? he wonders as he begins sewing. Once, he would have been glad that Loki was not watching him do magic; now, his absence feels strange.

He concentrates on his stitches.

Aaravos has been gone a while, and so Loki feels safe enough to conjure his notebook, looking over his list: a list of places to take Aaravos once they are both free.

At the top of the list is Vanaheim. There is a statue of his mother there, and he wants to say hello to her, maybe even introduce Aaravos, for some reason he cannot identify.

He adds Knowhere to the list, hoping that they can trade one of Aaravos's antlers (they do not have to say it is Aaravos's for the sake of his pride, and The Collector would not be able to resist the antlers of a species unknown in the universe), for a particularly rare diamond that was taken from the people of Nilfgaard. If they can bring it back to them, then they might be afforded the privilege of entering the caverns below the planet. The sparkling of the crystals there reminds Loki of Aaravos's cheeks. Something like that is bound to appeal to Aaravos's vanity.

Finishing the rune, Aaravos drapes the cloth over the rock– a rare geode– and waits for the mage to do the same before raising his pestle and bringing it down with a loud crack! He smashes the stone more, grinding it up before pouring the powder into his goblet. Water and a few more dark magic ingredients join the powder, then he swirls the thick liquid and raises the cup to his lips, watching the mage carefully.

After they drink, the ritual only needs one more step to complete. But–

Something twists in Aaravos's stomach. He hasn't told Loki of his plan. He's had months, but he hasn't said a word.

What will Loki think of this?

Thinking about the Nilfgaard caverns reminds Loki of something he has not tried.

Nothing has worked to escape this dimension, but this... He summons the small rod of metal, not much bigger than a pencil lead, a special metal alloy from Nilfgaard, forged in the core of the planet. He sends his magic through it like an electric current. The energies spark and fizzle and he can feel the barriers of this small universe bending ever so slightly, like a fabric just about to tear.

He could step through! He has done it! All he needed was the right component to combine his magic with and…

This will only free him. He can feel it, that it is only enough to take him on a one way trip out of this world.

His magic dissipates. Why, Norns damnit, can he not leave? Aaravos is not his responsibility! What does he owe him?

But he cannot, and he knows he cannot tell Aaravos either, or else Aaravos might convince him to leave, and he cannot do that. He cannot leave the only friend he has in this or any other universe.

Aaravos hesitates a moment as he puts the knife to his palm. If he does this–

The mage glares at him, saying something he cannot hear. Aaravos cannot conceal his surprise when the mage covers the mirror!

Well. At least this means another chance to tell Loki.

….But Loki will see it as a betrayal. Aaravos can't tell him. He'll think Aaravos is trying to leave him here alone, but Aaravos will come back when he is free. It will be easier to free Loki from the other side.

No, Aaravos decides, Loki is more likely to be hurt if Aaravos does not tell him.

Mind made up, he leaves the library.

Loki hears Aaravos approaching and banishes the metal rod to his pocket dimension. His heart beats a little faster, almost like guilt, as he grabs the notebook he was writing in to continue as if nothing happened while Aaravos was gone.

Aaravos returns to the sitting room, and Loki does not glance up from his book. "I assume there was no crisis? You dashed out of here rather suddenly."

"No, no crisis," Aaravos responds. He swallows, suddenly feeling very anxious. "I… need to tell you something."

Loki shuts the book, even more nervous for some reason. He does not want to hear whatever it is that Aaravos has to tell him, as he is almost certain it is not anything good. "Right now? It is urgent?"

"Somewhat, yes." Aaravos is already getting antsy, not sure when the mage will return.

Loki smirks. "Come now, Aaravos. It is not as if anything happens here. Besides, I would like to know your opinion on something. Now, before you say 'no,' hear me out and know that no one would have to know they were once yours."

"Know what were once mine?" Aaravos demands, forgetting he still needs to tell Loki about the dark mage.

"Well, there's a specific place I would like to take you once we are free, but… well, they are not always happy to see me. To be fair, I did kind of deface one of their sacred sites. However, if we were to return a valuable relic to them, they might give us passage. To get said item, we would have to trade one of your old antlers. I have a feeling you would get on well with The Collector. He would certainly find you fascinating."

Aaravos's hands fly to his antlers. "Trade one of my antlers?" Trade so much power away? For what?

Something else in that bothers him. "Someone called The Collector would find me fascinating? I do not think I like the sound of that."

"Not the ones currently on your head, of course! He need not even know they are yours since that is so embarrassing for you." Loki shrugs. "He finds any unique species interesting. He's an old immortal that decided to set about collecting one of everything in the universe so he would never get bored, since his lifespan is directly connected to his will to live. An impossible task gives him something to live for. He never forces anything into his collection, only makes willing trades. He would not be able to resist the horns of a creature never seen before, meaning he will part with the Nilfgaard relic, and we can go to Nilfgaard and exchange the relic for passage into the crystal catacombs."

Aaravos's mind instantly flickers to the geode he just crushed and drank. What powers could the crystals of this 'Nilfgaard' hold?

"Perhaps I could part with one antler for such an adventure," he concedes. Although then, he would have an odd number of antlers, one antler with no mate.

Loki claps his hands together. "Excellent, now I just need to figure out transportation. If you are going to tour my universe, we are going to do it in style. Ideally, we would have the tesseract, but that is in the vaults on Asgard and…"

Of course he could get into Asgard if he wanted. The issue is whether or not he ever wants to set foot in that palace of lies ever again.

Aaravos laughs. Loki's excitement is infectious. "I look forward to it! Once we have escaped, of course."

He should tell Loki now. That he has a way to escape, what it will do to him. But Loki is so happy now, and Aaravos would hate to take that away.

"Yes, of course. I did have a new idea, but first I need to research metal alloys in your world, and perhaps the sun forge."

Perhaps he could make more. The sun magic may have sufficient heat… and if there is a close enough material, perhaps Loki's new discovery will be useful after all.

Metal alloys? Why would Loki need to know about metal?

"I will get you some books," Aaravos says. "Are you looking for information about crafting, about magical uses, about the metals themselves?"

"The metals themselves and their properties, I suppose, to start. If my theory pans out, then I shall move on to crafting."

Aaravos nods, mind swirling in confusion. What could Loki possibly want with metal? Can he even craft metal?

"I believe I have a good book in the library. It was written for mage-smiths, and if I remember correctly it is quite a comprehensive look at metalwork, particularly the rare metals– which are possibly unique to Xadia." He starts back toward the library.

Oh– what if the mage is there? He'll need to tell Loki then– but he would rather do it on his own terms– and he would much prefer if Loki had no contact at all with the dark mage. He does not know how dark magic will interact with Loki's seidr, and he does not wish to find out.

Since it is also Xadian magic, a voice whispers inside his mind before he forces it away. No, dark magic is different. It is.

He turns, walking backwards. "Actually, wait here. I can find it faster if I go alone."

Please do not question my logic.

"Am I banned from this library as well, now, Aaravos? What could be worse than your 'trophy' wall?" he asks with a chuckle at the memory.

Aaravos winces slightly at the memory of that misunderstanding. "No, just… I will be faster alone!" Before Loki can say another word, he walks very quickly but not running to the library. A quick glance confirms that the mirror is still covered on the other side.

He takes barely a minute to find the book, as this is one of the ones Loki hasn't intentionally misplaced.

Loki takes the book from Aaravos with a soft "thanks," and a sceptical glance at Aaravos. Perhaps Aaravos is mad at Loki for messing with his books? "I suppose I shall get started… unless there was something else?"

Tell him. This is as good a time as any.

"...Thank you for not moving this one."

Loki will later regret choosing not to press the issue. He can tell something is wrong, but whether he wishes to keep the peace, or maybe because he dreads whatever it is that Aaravos had to tell him, he does not ask. He just takes the book to the sitting room without another word.

...Is Loki angry with Aaravos now?

~timeskip~

Loki regularly finds himself tempted to leave over the next couple of days, or whatever passes for days in the mirror. He keeps retrieving that little metal rod and fiddling with it, considering what he knows about Aaravos and what he knows about himself. The past few years he has allowed himself to be selfish in ways he was never permitted for most of his life.

But the past few years have also been lonely. He does not want to believe that he must choose between companionship and personal freedom. He wants to believe he can be who he is and still have a few good friends in his life, maybe even a family, but must he always be sacrificing his own well-being?

Every time he thinks about leaving on his own, he also reasons that one more day is not too much of a sacrifice, and he stays.

Ever since the dark mage covered the mirror, Aaravos has been unable to concentrate on anything for long. He spends most of his time busying himself in the library, watching the mirror near-constantly.

He feels guilty every time Loki does not even argue with him, just gets a strange look on his face and leaves. But, he reasons, Loki will understand soon. When Aaravos and the mage finish the ritual, and Aaravos is guaranteed freedom, he'll find a way to free Loki too. It will be easier from the other side; he's sure Avizandum had a failsafe in case he ever needed Aaravos again. All he needs to do is find that and force the Dragon King to…. open the mirror, or dissolve it, or whatever method would free Loki.

Not too much of a problem.

He's dusting when he notices the cover move out of the corner of his eye. Immediately, he drops everything and darts to the table by the mirror.

By the time the cover is gone, he's standing serenely, holding his knife.

Loki arranges the vials of various metals he has been able to collect throughout the prison, small samples from furniture, utensils, and other tools. He doubts any of them will have the properties he needs, but he wants to try.

First, he can try a flame test, see what colors they burn and work from there.

Aaravos smiles, pressing his blade into his palm and watching the mage do the same. He holds his hand over the goblet from days ago, letting several drops of blood fall before healing it with a quiet spell.

Time for the final spellwork.

"Vox et eruca," he murmurs, and opens his mouth.

His voice, transformed into a small, deep violet caterpillar, crawls out of his mouth. He places it in the goblet and casts a silent spell, and watches as the insect crawls out on the other side of the mirror.

Perhaps he is still imprisoned, but it gives him such a rush of power to know that even that one small part of him is free.

Green, no. Yellow, no. Yellow again, no.

Loki huffs in frustration. It is beginning to appear that none of these metals will have the properties he is looking for.

Aaravos waits until the caterpillar is curled on the mage's ear before commanding, "Speak."

His voice sounds strange, echoing inside his head. But he can hear the mage's gasp of surprise– he can hear it– and so he adds, "Speak, that I may hear your voice."

"Who are you?" the mage demands.

Aaravos sighs in pleasure. "Too long have I waited to hear the sound of another voice. How may I serve you?"

Loki took great care with these tests, as fire is not something to be used lightly in a scientific setting.

But he did not notice the spark that flew and landed on a few notes he made nearby. As it turns out, the paper he used is even more flammable than most. It lit up in a blaze. That is not good.

"Answer me!" the mage demands. "Who are you? Why is there a human in the mirror with you?"

Aaravos freezes. The mage saw Loki? Stars, no.

Almost instantly, he unfreezes and laughs. "Human? There is no human in here."

"Then who was the man I saw?"

Aaravos is about to answer when he catches a whiff of a familiar scent… and not a good one.

"Oh, stars," he murmurs aloud. "Stars, no."

And he takes off running, ignoring the mage's confused shouts.

Loki looks up to see Aaravos bursting through the door just as he is putting out the flame with his jotun powers. A blast of ice swiftly extinguished the would-be blaze, but it left a terrible burning smell behind.

"What–" Aaravos remembers his voice is on the other side of the mirror, and looks around frantically for something to write with. He finds a pencil and a sheet of clean, unburned paper, and scribbles, "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Loki grins sheepishly. "Science?"

His eyes dart between the paper and Aaravos's face. "What's wrong with your voice?"

For all his knowledge, reading lips was never something Aaravos was good at. He can understand meanings from body language, but he prefers not to leave communication to chance.

He writes, "I cannot hear you," and holds the paper out to Loki.

He can guess what Loki's question was, though.

Loki frowns. He uses illusion magic to write in the air, much more efficient than using pen and paper. "What in the nine realms is going on? What happened to your voice and hearing? Did a spell go wrong? Do you need help?"

He hopes it is not permanent… he misses Aaravos's voice already.

Oh, stars above, Aaravos hates this. If only he could have gotten through this whole ordeal without ever having to tell Loki.

"No… my spell is working perfectly. I," he winces, hand trembling slightly as he writes, "began a spell to"

How should he word this?

"to secure our freedom. It requires the temporary loss of my voice and hearing, though there may be moments when I have them. What were you doing?"

He chooses to ignore the mage's calls of, "Elf! Where did you go? Come back, I order you!"

Loki scoffs. "My crisis has been averted, yours is still ongoing." He is tempted to keep pressing Aaravos, but first he decides he can reassure him that there was no danger. "I was doing some experiments, I accidently caught some paper on fire. If I had known you had a plan all along to free us, I might not have bothered. What sort of plan is this? Why did you not tell me?"

"I tried," Aaravos writes.

That does not feel like enough. "There is a mage on the other side of the mirror. I performed a ritual that allows me to speak to him by sending my voice to him. He will help me secure our freedom."

"And this was sudden, I suppose?" Loki writes, "When will you get your voice and hearing back?"

"Permanently? When the spell is completed. Temporarily whenever he sleeps."

Now the mage is threatening to leave if Aaravos does not come back. To cover up the mirror and kill the caterpillar.

Stars, no, he can't do that! The caterpillar is Aaravos's voice. If it dies, his voice will be gone forever.

"I need to go."

Loki nods solemnly. "Do not think we are done talking about this."

Aaravos glances at the words, nods, and strides out of the room and back to the mirror and the irate mage.

"What took you so long?"

"A small emergency," Aaravos replies smoothly. "Nothing of importance to you. Now, how may I serve you?"

"What is your name?"

"My name would mean nothing to you."

"Where are you?"

"I… do not know," Aaravos admits.

"Who was the man I saw in this mirror?" The mage is getting frustrated.

Aaravos raises an eyebrow. "Yourself?"

"If you're not going to cooperate, I'll leave again," the mage threatens.

"But you will come back." Aaravos is sure of this. He can see it in the man's eyes. He's hungry for the knowledge Aaravos has to share. He might leave, but he will come back.

The mage changes the subject. "I found this mirror in the lair of the Dragon King. It meant something to him, you meant something to him."

Aaravos shrugs. "Possibly." Well, who wouldn't want to keep an eye on a powerful, imprisoned mage? "What do you need of me?"

"Your name," the mage says. "I need your name."

Aaravos sighs. The mage just will not leave this alone, will he?

"...Aaravos," he says slowly.

A look of satisfaction grows on the mage's face, and he plucks the caterpillar off his ear, dropping it into a jar, and covers the mirror.

Aaravos curses.

Loki conjures the metal from Nilfgaard again. He hopes that Aaravos has a good explanation when he returns. He hopes that this, whatever this is, will get the both of them free.

He does not like the idea of relying on a stranger. He has only just begun to give Aaravos the smallest amount of his trust. He does not trust this mage that Aaravos is communicating with.

Turning the rod over in his hands, rolling it along his palm, Loki cannot help but feel like he has failed. Perhaps if he could have found a way out for the both of them sooner, Aaravos would not need to rely on someone else. Why is he trusting some stranger with the task of their freedom instead of Loki? He thought he had earned more credit than that.

Loki rubs his eyes, banishing the tears that threaten to well up. He can figure a way through this. He always has.

A/N: Ahhhgh, angst! This was a hard chapter to write, but it's nothing compared to the next one...

"Vox et eruca," loosely translated, means "caterpillar voice." Imaginative, I know.

(Hope and I both got ticked at Viren in this chapter. He's such a brat sometimes!)