The Origin Of Sleipnir
~ Suspicion ~
. . .
"When I offered my help, this was not exactly what I had in mind," Thor growled displeased and skootched the shovel bellow yet another pile of horse droppings. After half an hour of rinsing out the stable single-handed, one horse pen after the other, Thor had long lost count of how many spits it had taken him to get this far. And there was still a long way to go.
"How is this even helping you? Cleaning the stables is not your duty," Thor said suspiciously and shoved another load of crap into a barrel.
"I recall you saying you wanted to help out, as in generally helping out and not specifically me," Loki spoke from his seat across the stable, wherefrom he casually watched his brother's misery in nothing but amusement. "Although I do quit enjoy this scenery so in a way I guess it's a win-win," he added teasingly, only to receive a scowl from Thor.
"You are the worst, brother," Thor muttered in annoyance, but continued shoveling horse droppings out of the stables.
"Hey don't blame me. You should have been more specific," Loki taunted with a smirk and grabbed yet another chicken leg from a tray he had brought with him to the show, soon having more bare bones than meet left on the golden platter.
For a moment, Thor considered if he should shove the next load in Loki's direction in return from his mockery, but his attention as soon brought to something else when the stable doors burst open.
"I hope there is an empty pen left, or else we'll be in trouble real soon," Volstagg's voice echoed through the stables, followed by the sound of hot-headed whines and clattering hooves.
"What in Helheim?" The sudden fuss made Thor peak around the corner of the pens, only to be met by Fandral and Volstagg's triumphant faces, along with a fiercely kicking and tripping grey stallion.
Loki nearly choke on his chicken when he caught sight of the animal, and his heart jumped to his throat as he whispered almost anxiously. "Svadilfari,"
"Hey, Loki! Look who we found wandering around in the woods!" Fandral called teasingly while Volstagg did his best to keep the wild horse under control.
The stallion whined piercingly while it threw its large head from side to side and kicked the stable doors with such power, that some of the hits made splinters of wood crack from the surface.
"Looks like he recognizes you," Thor said with a small grin as he leaned on his shovel, but Loki was nowhere near pleased. In fact, every inch of his expression screamed discomfort.
The pounding of Svadilfari's hooves matched the one of Loki's racing heart. All of a sudden, he felt odd. His stomach sank heavily and his throat tightened so much that he had to grab it with his hand to assure no one was actually choking him.
The reunion with the stallion made his mind run wild, and all of a sudden, everything that had been going on the past five months lined up more clearly than ever. It was nothing less but unsettling.
"I have to get out of here," Loki quickly agreed with himself and rose from his seat, perhaps a little too quickly. His eager attempt on getting out of the way made spots appear before the trickster's eyes, but he managed to keep himself collected enough to rush through the stable hall without staggering.
"Hey wait if you're going, that means I can stop this right?" Thor assumed hopeful.
"No, you stay and finish what you have started," Loki disagreed on his way out, although he was quickly brought to shut up when he had to pass Svadilfari in the doorframe. Although the gate to the stables was wide, the large stallion almost filled it out, which only made it that much worse for Loki. Not to mention that the kicking and tripping of the horse only seemed to increase when the Asgardian passed. It made the trickster practically slip alongside the wall to keep as much distance as possible.
"Alright, alright let's find a suiting place for you," Volstagg spoke to the uneasy horse and patted its neck a couple of times before leading it down the stable hall.
"So does this make you the God of Stank now?" Fandral questioned at Thor with a grin. The Odinson just roll his eyes and picked up his work once more.
. . .
Loki was not one to do anything half-hearted. This was no exception.
The grand library of the castle was the biggest of its kind in Asgard, and held information from each and every one of the nine realms. Granted the kind of information Loki sought this time was much different from what he used to read, but knowing his way around already payed off, nevertheless.
The size of the room was a benefit as well. It allowed him to vanish between the gracious halls of bookshelves a lot easier. The last thing he needed was someone finding out what he was doing. That would cause a stream of infinite questions he did not yet have a clear answer to. He hoped he wouldn't need those answers ever.
With the help of a few duplicates of himself, Loki gathered a large pile of books and sorted them out on a table in the library. He now scanned a few pages of each book to determine if it was useful or not, before he either skootched it aside or stored it for later, with a magic twist of his hands.
As soon as he felt like he had what he needed, he returned to his champers. Here he wouldn't worry about anyone accidently realizing something they shouldn't. Besides, he couldn't deny he still had a tendency to become dizzy. The following days and nights of reading and examining and analyzing didn't help much either, but he managed to keep himself going either way.
Now Loki was smart. Solving a mystery was rarely a difficult task. The problem was just that this time, he wanted to be wrong. This resulted in multiple re-calculations and reconsidering, just for the sake of finding a hole in his research.
However, each time he was lucky to find a hole, it was stitched quickly and eliminated any other possible answers.
After a week of intense research, Loki had analyzed every possibility he could think of. Every book read a dozen times, every symptom linked to various different deceases and every spell practiced, performed and recreated down to the smallest detail. If there was no other outing now, there would never be.
Closing the last book between his hands, Loki turned to face his reflection in the gold-framed mirror. If he had looked tired before, he was a living dead now. Because of his eager research, his sleep pattern was now messed up completely, and the few hours of sleep he had actually gotten was nothing compared to what he needed. The aftermath of that was not unseen.
Taking in a deep breath, the Asgardian laid down the book to get his hands free. With his front still facing the mirror, he now cautiously moved his hands in certain patterns. Every move was practiced to the point of perfection, and the spell played out with unmistakable clarity.
With his heart in his throat, Loki studied the outcome of the spell with dreadful eyes. He then swiftly made it disappear with a wave of his hands, the desolation of the spell sending a small wave of air through the room.
With clenched fists, Loki took in the information with a frown of shock, realization and aggravation. Of all the times, he could be right this was probably the worst. It made him nothing less but uneasy.
"Shit!"
. . .
