Loki tried to suppress the thousands of emotions scrambling around for attention as he waited, standing next to Thor, for his father to arrive.
It was cold out, not like it bothered Loki, but Thor seemed to be a little put-off by it, despite the several layers of armor and other ceremonial garb draped around him. Their home on Asgard was warm most of the year; Winter lasted only a month, and it never got cold enough for someone to be uncomfortable. The first time they arrived on Midgard, it had been at the original site of the battle with the Jotuns, in a freezing tundra known as Norway. It was cold, but nothing an immortal couldn't handle; It was just a shocking difference. After entertaining the mortals for several years, they stopped coming into contact with them.
As the planets moved and re-aligned, the place for the Bifröst opening moved to New Mexico; a rather drastic difference from the cold northern wasteland they were used to. Of course, the Bifröst could take them to any place on Midgard, but the default opening moved around as the universe shifted.
As their main operations were located in Norway, a tribute to the primitive people they met long ago, the Allfather would direct the Bifröst here. Loki believed that the usual place for the Bifröst was located somewhere in southern Africa.
Loki shook his head, clearing his mind. He needed to be focused on the dilemma at hand, his father; Who was several minutes late. They'd been standing at attention for at least half an hour. He was getting restless, his mischievous nature wouldn't let him stand still for much longer. Thor wasn't faring well either, he had always been the one who wanted action and movement, Loki on the other hand, had learned the importance of patience and became very adept at it. Nevertheless, neither of them was any good at standing still in the middle of a barren, frozen, tundra.
Loki turned to his brother, about to suggest they sit down, or do something, anything, then just stand here and let his worry build up until he boiled over when the clouds above them started collecting together. They swirled around each other, faster and faster, creating a cyclone that lowered down toward the ground. Then with a sharp crash and the telltale noise that was distinct only to the Bifröst, a large beam of rainbow light hit the ground, searing an intricate design in the rock hard earth. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the beam vanished, and clouds dissipated. Standing where the anomaly had just happened was the Allfather in all his glory, decked in his golden and silver robes and armor.
Thor and Loki clapped their right arm over their chest and knelt. "Rise, my sons," Odin's voice rang out in the silence. They obeyed as he walked toward them. "Shall we go to a more comfortable accommodation?" Nodding in agreement, they led their father away.
When they reached the large office building that belonged to Burison Co. the receptionist led them to a private conference room giving Thor a small smile. Loki furrowed his brow, glowering at the woman, being near his father sending him into a foul mood. The heavy wooden doors slammed behind them. Odin claimed the seat at the head of the table, Thor to his right, and Loki to his left.
They sat there in awkward silence for a while. Loki wasn't going to be the one to break it, and as they sat there he thought how open communication had never been his adoptive family's forte. His mind wandered again, to how his life would have turned out if Odin had only told him the truth. He felt like things would be better, maybe he'd be happy on Asgard. But the past is the past, and as the god of time, he knew there was no changing it.
Finally, Odin cleared his throat. "My sons," Loki bristled, and Odin gave him a cool glare, daring him to contradict the statement. Loki didn't want to be here any longer than he had to, so he just glared back. Odin continued. "I have called you here to warn you. Despite the strength of the Einherjar who were posted outside the crypts, several Draugar have risen and escaped into the branches of Yggdrasil through the Bifröst."
Thor choked, "Draugar?"
Loki just stared at Odin, his sour thoughts all but forgotten. The Draugar hadn't been around for several years, especially since they now understood how they came to be. They took great precautions to make sure no corpse was raised; burning some of the bodies, burying the rest horizontally, embedding silver weapons inside the corpse's chests, weaving straw inside of the shrouds, and posting guards at crypts. Most of their funeral traditions were there to ensure the Draugar never came back.
The Draugar were hard to kill, as they didn't feel pain or tire like the living. The only real way to make sure they didn't come back was to destroy their bodies, usually by burning them and scattering their ashes. If some had risen, the nine realms were going to be in trouble.
"How did they rise?" Loki asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
"All the Einherjar who were present are dead, but my theory is they were raised by Eið."
"Eið? Who did they make an oath to in the living? Why would they even make an oath that strong? Isn't that illegal?" Thor rattled off questions faster than Odin could answer. When he stopped, probably trying to think of more, Odin only answered one of his queries.
"I believe they swore themselves to Gámr. You see the missing bodies were former priests of Vahala, part of a sect that deals with Niflheim and Hel. I fear they may have developed a, uh, like toward Glámr." Glámr was a Draugr, who caused a lot of trouble in the stories that Thor and Loki grew up with. One of the most well-known tales was how he cursed the hero, Grettis, to become a Draugr, right before he was burned and his ashes scattered in the wind.
"And they swore themselves to him with a binding oath." It wasn't a question, but a statement. A binding oath, or Eið, was only made if one was intending to keep it. If one broke their Eið, they would die and their soul would be forever punished in Niflheim. The Greeks were also aware of this binding oath, but instead, they called it swearing on the Styx. Several other cultures were aware of Eið, all with different names for it. It was old and unbreakable magic, one that bound beyond death. If Glámr called for them from Niflheim, they would rise from the dead as Draugr.
Odin nodded, "I am sending out more Einherjar to find them, but Heimdallr can't see them. The last he saw of them they were heading toward Niflheim. As you know, Niflheim is closer to Midgard than Asgard is, so there is a chance that some Draugr will come here. I hope you will be prepared to stop them."
Loki nodded along with Thor. Mortals weren't equipped to deal with Draugar and their magic.
"Of course. Is that all, Father?" Thor asked, leaning forward.
"Yes, Thor. I have been gone from my throne for long enough and I have a kingdom to run." The three stood up and left the room. The receptionist wasn't at the front desk as they walked past. They were silent as they returned to the Bifröst opening, not because they didn't want to talk, but because they were still shocked. If the Draugar were back, the nine realms were in danger, and neither of them wanted to deal with war.
Loki was so lost in thought about this news that he didn't even realize that Odin had left. Thor nudged him, and they both silently trudged back to the building for the second time that day.