Please forgive my absence. Life decided to throw some curve-balls lately, and the best I could do was duck and run. But I'm back, and ready to deliver! Please know that I appreciate all the feedback that has been provided, even if I haven't responded. Those who take the time to review are precious beyond what words can convey.

And all I can say about this is: This chapter is not as it seems.

/

"I do not care." His voice was tremulous, uncertain, weak. By instinct, his hands went behind his back to hide the remaining quiver in them.

"You do not understand. The All-father is to have no visitors -"

"I am not a visitor." Loki narrowed his eyes in genuine distaste, silently daring the sentry to refuse him again. "And I understand perfectly. I must speak with my father at once. Allow me entry."

"He is in counsel with ambassadors from Vanaheim," the man spoke in a rush, as if he expected Loki to interrupt him again. "And he made it clear no one was to enter these chambers until he was finished." The man paused, staring down at him with emotionless eyes. "Even you, my prince." Loki's temper flared.

"This is a matter of grave importance," he snapped. "One that concerns his eldest son's very life. Would you truly be so willing to ignore me, to deny me my father in light of recent events? In light of my brother's disappearance and the panic that ensued thereafter?" Ordinarily, he would try to take his time to sweet-talk this idiot and would not resort to something as drastic as a bout of temper. But deep within, with no true reason as to why, he simply knew he was running out of time. They had wasted enough of it already with the pretender among them, and he now found himself in the precarious position of playing catch-up.

Truly, he felt as if he had never caught up since awakening by that damned brook in the woods.

"Is Prince Thor's life in danger?" The man's steady voice now had an edge to it; one Loki was all-too-familiar with, the halting lilt of those on the verge of panic. He wondered if this guard knew that he had just returned from their hunting trip, that he had ridden with all his might back to the city after Thor (not Thor) had disappeared into the woods and had made it back in half the time. He was certain he looked panicked, frazzled, distraught; he did not have time for this nonsense, he had to speak to father now.

"Yes," he said quickly. His hands balled into fists at his side and it took everything within him to stop from swaying. He felt nauseous and weak; his magic was far from replenishing itself and he was terrified he was going to keel over before he got to speak to father. "I cannot risk delay in this matter. Allow me to pass."

"Shall I fetch the healers?" The guard was sounding skeptical again. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and coughed, locking his knees in place as another bout of nausea overcame him.

"No," he bit out. "That will not be needed. I need my father. Now."

"My prince -"

"Now!" Loki's voice echoed in the vast hallway and it reminded him of Thor's eerie shouting in the woods not an hour previous. The guard hesitated, seemingly ready to argue once more; but as he looked down and studied his face, something there must have changed his mind because he moved aside in the next breath. Loki shoved past without a second glance and slammed the full weight of his body against the doors to open them.

It was not until he caught the gaze of the startled ambassador that he realized this may have been an unwise decision. All men present in the room - his father, several guardsmen, and the varying companions of the ambassador himself - were staring at him coldly, as if he had just walked in upon them bathing. Surprisingly, he did not find himself faltering even in the face of their judgement; the deep plunge of dread in his gut gave him all the confidence he needed to walk stiffly into the room, his chin lifted high. "I must speak with my father," he said smoothly, and for a few, fleeting seconds, no one moved or said a word. He dared a look at his father, who looked nothing but baffled.

Surprise was better than anger, at any rate.

"What is the meaning of this?" someone demanded. Loki did not bother glancing aside to see who; his gaze remained steadfast on the king.

"I need to speak with my father," he said again, hating how his voice shook. Odin straightened from where he was bent over the table, examining some ancient document. Treaties of old, no doubt.

"Loki," he said, his voice low. "I am busy."

"I need to speak with you. Immediately." Loki's eyes darted away only briefly to catch the gape-mouthed expressions of his father's company. "Privately."

"This is absurd," someone else said. Loki's heart quickened as father stared him down, his face a blank mask as usual.

"I was to have no visitors," he finally said. "Wait in the hall, my son. This is no -"

"It concerns Thor," he blurted. The phantom of said brother's violent hands dug painfully into his shoulders and he winced. All eyes in the room bore down upon him now as if he had grown a second head. Try as he might, he could not seem to stop shaking.

"What about him?" Father was not nearly so obvious as the sentry in the hall, but Loki could sense the underlying concern in his tone. He relaxed, but only minutely; whatever he said next needed to prompt father out of this room.

A thin sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. For a few, dragging seconds, he could not seem to draw enough air into his lungs.

"Your son is in danger," he croaked out. Which one? his mind silently questioned. The group before him swayed and blurred; with a quiet gasp, he braced himself against the wall, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Help me, father." Had he spoken or thought that? Gods, how weak he must look. How utterly helpless and small, stupid, weak idiot -

"I will return." Odin's voice sounded like a mighty trumpet through the fog in his mind and he stuttered out a shocked cry. The king strode past the stricken group, keeping his eye on Loki. "Gentlemen...dwell on what I have just told you." Father's hand came to rest on his shoulder, nudging him forward; Loki allowed him to guide him back out into the hallway, past the wide-eyed sentry, and towards a private alcove situated beside windows facing the westward wall of the city.

"Father," he began, but the man simply raised a hand. His single eye bore down on him like a thousand might, and he felt nearly crushed beneath its imposing gaze.

"I trust you would not dare interrupt so important a meeting unless lives were dependent on it." Father cocked his head - his voice betrayed nothing. Loki counted the beats of his heart and forced himself to keep his gaze on his father. He nodded.

"Aye, father. We've an -"

"What has happened to you?" Father's brow furrowed into a frown. He reached out to touch him and Loki managed to stop himself from flinching; father pulled a twig from his hair and looked at him strangely. "You are filthy, Loki."

"I-I know. I am...I am only...ugh..." He swayed, silently cursing his weakened form with every breath he could muster.

"What is it?" Father was growing impatient. Loki grit his teeth together and wiped his forehead again.

"We've an impostor in our midst." Odin's mouth shot open as if he had already planned his response, but the full impact of Loki's message was relayed before he could say anything. Loki straightened and continued. "Thor has not...returned to us, father. We must go back to the woods immediately."

"Are you speaking in riddles?" Something like premonition squirmed uncomfortably in his gut. He chose to ignore it. But that he could see past the blank mask of his father's stare...

"No." He took a breath as the memory of the power drawn from his body tingled through his veins painfully. Everything still hurt. "I went to Arenwood with Thor, father. I - "

"I know." Odin's arms crossed over his chest, his single eye pulsing some unknown sentiment. "This morning, yes?"

"Yes," Loki said hurriedly. "Father, please. S-something has happened that I cannot...cannot explain. Thor has gained the ability to summon some type of dark seidr. In the woods today, he attacked me and I -" His frenzied explanation cut off quickly as father placed a hand over his forehead, and he knocked it off before he thought better of it. "What are you doing?" he asked, watching with growing concern as father's face hardened not with anger but with...concern? "Father, what...?"

"Are you well, Loki?" The question caught him off guard and he balked.

"Am I...well?" Odin nodded and something about the gesture made him inexplicably furious. "Of course I am well, that is of no import in this matter." Liar, liar. "Listen to me father, please. Thor attacked me in the woods today, but he...he is not Thor, he is some twisted imitation of my brother and I think the beast...the magic, that you sensed in the woods, Sif told me about it!" He was losing his ability to coherently express his thoughts as father's face continued to morph into one of pity. The expression was so misplaced and wrong, why was he doing that? Why the abandonment of his silvertongue now, in this moment, when he needed it the most? "The evil, father! You mentioned the evil upon your return from Myrkviðr, yes? Something has my brother, I know it and you must know it too, yes? Yes?"

"Loki," Odin said softly. "Sit down a moment, my son."

"No." He pressed himself against the wall and the more logical tendencies of his mind questioned his frantic and panicked reaction. Why am I acting this way? he wondered but he knew even as he asked. Father. It was father.

He didn't believe him.

He didn't believe him, it was happening all over again, oh gods, not again, not again...

"Loki." Father's voice was firmer now and Loki tried desperately to remember how to take deep breaths. "Listen to me. You must calm yourself. You are in a panic. Allow me to explain." And then he reached towards him, no doubt to place a reassuring hand, but Loki was no fool. Not again.

"Do not touch me, father," he snapped, dodging out of the way. He backed into the empty hallway, hands raised in placation. "I will not allow you to cast another spell on me. I will not."

"Cast another spell?" Father was getting impatient now; Loki could sense the change in his voice, watched his shoulders pull back in irritation. The familiarity of the reaction calmed him, if only a little. "What madness do you speak of?"

"I only need you to listen to me." Loki wrapped his arms around himself, holding onto his own elbows with a death grip to stop the shaking in his fingers. "Please, my magic, he took my -"

"Thor visited me this morning before you departed for Arenwood." Loki's head snapped up, alarm pulsing through the core of his being. Father spoke quickly, as if he had had quite enough of this conversation. "He expressed concern for your health. He said he found you wandering the halls last night in a trance, speaking some foreign language he could not understand. That when he approached you in the halls after he heard you speaking outside his door, you lashed out and tried to attack him." Odin stared hard at him, his gaze penetrating and concerned. "He also told me he managed to get you back to bed, where you immediately dozed off normally. But when he awoke you this morning you were acting much the same, accusing him of some nonsense he did not understand. You had had a nightmare, he said, and were quite convinced it had actually come to pass. He asked me this morning to keep an eye on you, as you might come to me with some wild accusations concerning himself."

Loki dug his fingernails into his skin until he drew blood.

"None of that is true," he whispered, voice shaking, head spinning, feeling as if he might vomit and collapse and scream in frustration all at the same time. "Father, I swear to you, the...the events of last night did not transpire as all that. Thor has not returned to us. He...he attacked me, father, look at my..." He held up his hands, which showcased nothing. He had no injury save the throbbing in his head and the pulsating fire in his blood. But father could sense this, no? Sense how his magic had been taken? Desperation clawed its way into his spine as father stepped closer to him, tension bleeding from his entire being. He began to speak quickly, angrily, once more seeing the cold glow of Thor's eyes in the hallway and the harsh echo of his voice in the frost of the forest that morning. "He c-could have killed me, he nearly did, but I do not know him, I do not know who has taken his place but the seidr father, Thor did not know how to control it -"

"Speak not of your brother as if he is dead." Loki gaped at his father as he placed a heavy hand on his shoulder, studying him. When he finally spoke, he sounded cold. "I know you have been under great distress these last, long weeks. You suffered great injury from the beast's attack, your brother disappeared and your family doubted you. You blamed yourself. You hid away." He paused a moment. "Look at me when I speak to you." Loki complied, his teeth chattering in his skull. "It is over now, Loki. Do you understand?" His other hand came to rest upon his other shoulder and Loki inhaled sharply at the contact. "Thor is safe and none else doubt you. You must banish these fears from your mind. For your own sake, as well as the kingdom."

"You are wrong, father." Loki stepped from his grasp, intently ignoring the flash of indignation in his father's features. "Whoever has stolen my brother's form is crafty as well, and so has managed to twist the truth to the benefit of his own deceptions." Silence reigned for a moment. For the first time that day, his fear quieted into a subdued dread. He struggled to maintain eye contact with his king. "Tell me, father, when did Thor learn magic?"

"I know not of what you speak," Odin said darkly.

"He did not show you." Loki grabbed at his hair and pulled, allowing the pain to bring him back towards some semblance of sane appearance. "You did not have the power he sought."

"What are you speaking of?" Father demanded. "What power? What magic?"

"The magic you bled into me the day you returned from the woods." Loki straightened, lowering his arms, and forced himself to face his father. "You used it to calm me. I wish only to know what other spell you cast on me, as it must have been strong to so attract this being's attention."

"I cast no spell on you." There was a finality in his words that dared the recipient to challenge them. Father's face darkened. "You grow delusional and unreasonable. Go to the healers at once. I fear you may be ill."

"You will truly not listen to me again?" Loki cried. "You would so easily disregard my fears?"

"I would disregard your accusations against me, yes." Loki's lungs caved in on themselves as father's voice turned cold once more. "You watch your tongue, boy. I may be your father, but I am also your King. You will not level such charges against me again, do you understand?"

"Yes," he bit out, bitters tears stinging his eyes. "But father, you must believe me. You do not know what I saw in the woods -"

"Enough." Odin waved a dismissive hand. "I've a council to return to. Do not ever interrupt such matters with this madness again." He turned to leave, and something inside of Loki's chest broke right in half.

"But what of the evil you sensed in the woods?" he asked desperately. Somehow, he had not planned what he would do if father did not believe him again. Because surely he was going to...after all that had happened, surely he would not doubt him again...

"I will speak of this no more." Odin continued striding down the hall and his voice echoed with inarguable authority around them. "Visit Eir. She will give you a tonic for sleep." And with that, he disappeared around the wall's edge, leaving him alone and panicked in the hall. Despair threatened to drown him whole then; with a quiet whimper he crumpled to his knees, grabbing onto his hair again, rocking back and forth as the turmoil within finally gained full control.

It would do you well to stop asking so many questions.

The place is enchanted with some ancient seidr. I could sense it, I could touch it with my own -

With behavior such as yours, you are no prince of mine.

Whatever demons found him in that place will soon lose hold on his soul...

Demons, magic, death. Loki gagged on his own sobs, no longer caring about the pretense of strength.

Father does not believe me.

He had thought...if only he went to him, and told him what had happened that he would believe him, take action, understand that Thor had not returned -

His vision hazed, blackened, refocused. The ornate tile on the floor danced in majestic colors before him, telling stories he could not understand. He felt ill. He felt...not right. Thor's magic (gods above, not Thor not Thor not Thor!) had poisoned him, drained him, altered his mind somehow. Nothing made sense. Oh Norns help him, what had happened to his brother? Had he perished somewhere in the woods? Who, exactly, had returned to them?

What had they done to Thor?

"Where are you?" he whispered, bending low until his forehead pressed flat against the floor. His mind was a jumbled mess, confused and panic-stricken. Thor, still missing. Father, disbelieving and dismissive. And mother, mother -

Mother.

Loki stilled as the air escaped from his lungs in a rush. Fool that he was! He should have sought her out first. She would believe him. She would take his word as truth, she would listen to him, she would understand he was not falling into madness, she would she would -

Pushing himself to stand, he ran down the hall in a blind frenzy towards the last person in the palace he knew he could trust.

He should have heard the voices.

Somehow, in the midst of his frantic determination, he had not considered any other possibility save his own private discourse with his mother.

Had not given credence to the fact that someone else might have had the exact same thought.

So when he burst into her study after being reliably informed that she was inside by a guardsman, his heart plummeted straight to his gut at the sight which met him. She turned to look at him from her seat by the window, smiling bright and beautiful as always.

"Loki!" she exclaimed, standing up to greet him and gesturing towards the only other empty chair beside her, "Join us, my son."

Us.

Us.

"Yes, do join us," said her companion amicably, standing and smiling just as brightly. "We are only just about to pour the tea." Loki stared without comment for a few, fleeting seconds, watching as his mother's face dipped into a frown as the silence stretched between them.

How, screamed his mind. The buzzing in his ears intensified to deafening levels and it took nothing but sheer power of will to remain standing. His heart slowed as cold blue eyes stared him down, silently challenging, daring him to speak.

His mouth went dry and his mind, silent. The impossibility of the matter should no longer be a surprise.

And yet he felt like he was falling.

"Loki?"

He inhaled sharply, feeling suddenly as though he had burst from a fresh spring of water onto dry land. Mother was now standing, a hand pressed to her chest, her brows pulled together in concern. "Are you well, my son?" Just as father had asked. The connection brought clarity and purpose roaring to the surface and he straightened, pulling his lips back in a charming smile.

"Apologies," he said quietly, doing his best to stride into the room without toppling over. He took her hand in his, hoping to the gods above that she wouldn't notice the tremor in his fingers, and placed a hasty kiss upon it. "I was simply startled, finding my brother here. I rather thought he was still off at Arenwood." Frigga laughed, squeezing his hand affectionately before letting it go. He took the moment to steal a glance at Thor (not Thor) who was smiling calmly at him.

Clever, clever fiend. Father first, and now mother. No doubt this imposter had already swayed mother to his concocted tale of hysteria on his own part. If he said or did anything out of the ordinary, all credibility would be denied him. He had the distinct impression this was exactly what Thor wanted. He could not play into his hand. Instead he would play against it.

I will end you this day, his mind suddenly supplied. The memory of Thor's vow in the forest made him feel like he'd slit his own throat. Curse this being, curse its dark magic, curse the deception it had so cleverly created -

"You will stay?" he heard mother asking somewhere in the background. His eyes shifted to the tea pot sitting on the table; it blurred and shifted before him.

"I should be delighted," he chirped, all too grateful to fall heavily into the closest seat. The blood thrummed nervously in his veins as he watched Thor pour the tea, a motion in and of itself grossly out of character. Something about it calmed him, as if it had just now been confirmed that this being was not his brother. "Thor" did not know he had gone to father with his concerns. He would simply need to tread carefully here. No more impulsive panics. Not with mother especially. He would simply play the part, just as Thor was. Outsmart this creature and find his brother. Easy.

"Thor was just telling me of your hunt this morning," mother was saying, visibly relaxed now as she took the saucer Thor offered. "Unsuccessful, from what I hear."

"Quite, I am afraid." Loki watched the amber liquid swirl inside the teacup and smiled convincingly as he accepted the offering from the blue-eyed monster in front of him. "Though we did have to turn back early. Thor was not feeling like himself." He could not resist the rapid quirk of his mouth in a half-smirk as Thor faltered, only slightly.

"Oh?" Mother questioned as Thor cleared his throat. Loki took a hasty sip of tea and grimaced as the beverage burned his tongue and throat.

"Tis true," Thor supplied, taking a heavy seat. He sighed and made his own serving, thoughtfully gazing out the window as he stirred cream and sugar into his cup. Loki watched sullenly - Thor never drank tea."It was the woods, I fear. I felt quite overcome." He took a tentative sip and stared at Loki over the rim. "Frightened, even."

Bastard.

"Well that is nothing to be ashamed of," mother said, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. Loki eyed the contact and felt the sudden urge to vomit. "You've only just come home, after all. Time will heal the wounds that place inflicted on you."

"I believe it so, mother." Thor's giant hand patted hers gently and Loki exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to stay quiet. As if the being read his thoughts, the evil blue eyes shifted his way with an appraising stare. Loki made sure his face remained expressionless. "Are you certain you are well, Loki?" Something about the way he said his name sent chills down his spine. Loki tapped his fingers against the warm glass, his head still aching from the memory of Thor's strong hands slamming him against the tree.

"Yes, of course." To prove so he took another sip of tea, even as black dots popped in the corners of his vision. "Why do you ask?"

"You are sweating like a farmhand," Thor replied. His eyes dipped for a moment to the table. "And your hands are shaking." Loki set his cup down as gently as possible, but it was too late. Mother's gaze was zeroed in on them now, and by instinct, he tucked his hands beneath his legs.

"Darling, what...?" she asked, beckoning to see, but he only shook his head.

"Just a chill from the hunt, that is all." He nodded to emphasize the point, but mother's frown deepened.

"May I see your hands?"

"I'd rather you didn't," he said quickly.

"It's just as I told you," Thor said quietly, conspiratorially, as if Loki were not in the room. Loki's breathing quickened as Thor shook his head, feigning concern. "After last night I -"

"Don't," Loki said at the same time mother said,

"Are you certain you are alright?" Out of desperation, Loki attempted to summon his magic under the misplaced notion that some small illusion might set her heart at ease. Instead, the effort only sucked away the remaining strength he had and he stood quickly, slamming his hands on the table to balance himself.

"I'm fine," he rasped, clearing his throat. Oh no. Gods no, please no, if he could just make it to the door - then mother couldn't see, she couldn't see him unwell, she would believe Thor and then -

"Loki?" She sounded far away. He squeezed his eyes shut and counted to five, waiting for the dizziness to pass. When it didn't, he pressed forward anyway.

"I think I may have...forgotten something...if you will ex...cuse me for a moment." He turned to leave, took two steps forward, and promptly plummeted to the ground.

When he came to, his mother's worried face took up the whole of his vision. Her mouth was moving, but he could not hear what she was saying, could not connect the movements of her lips to any cohesive meaning. He couldn't move. He was tired, just so tired, perhaps if he laid here a moment he could...he could...

Strong arms came underneath his body and hoisted him into the air with ease. He knew who it was, despite the pulsing confusion in his mind and the achingly tempting desire to just let it happen, let it be. "...to the healers," he heard him say, with just the right amount of concern fitting for a liar. They moved quickly away, away from the sweet and innocent presence of their mother and he mustered the strength to lift a few fingers in her direction before the doors slammed shut behind them. Oh gods, he wasn't safe. He had to get away but he couldn't, too weak, too weak, too weak. Thor was speaking, of that he was certain, and the voice that flitted through his consciousness was ominous and cold. Darkness swarmed around him, and still he could not move so he tried to focus instead. When his mind finally crystallized the words through the fog, he stopped breathing altogether.

She'll be next, my little prince.

Try that again and she'll be next.