On a couch in a cold room
Pouring salt in my wounds
I've been mistake faking truth holding liars balloons
- Neon Trees, Farther Down
The Bifrost
The All-Father strode into the Bifrost, the golden dome gleaming in the slowly setting sun. The stars had already come out, dotting the darkening skyline, but he was oblivious to the natural beauty of his realm. With the first of Surtur's fire demons landing in Alfheim, he had no choice but to advance the forces he had promised its Elf Queen to add to her defenses.
It was a decision that seemed to offend Laufey in some way; Odin knew that he had promised the leader of the Frost Giants he would wait until Loki was found, but this couldn't wait. The losses were already great, with the bodies reaching the thousand mark. To wait for a missing prince would set them back a great deal.
"What is so important that you insist that I break from my war council?" Odin demanded, stopping a few feet from the Gatekeeper. Heimdall's eyes were closed, but at the sound of his sovereign's voice, he opened these, golden orbs glinting.
"A storm gathers in Midgard, my king," he responded, his tone similar to one whose thoughts were far away. Knowing the all-seeing Heimdall, he most likely was. "Stranger than any storm I have seen since the mortals first etched their existence on rocks."
In the All-Father's eyes, a mere storm was not enough for him to be brought all the way to the Bifrost, but he knew that the Gatekeeper would not call him unless it was truly urgent. And so he waited, waited until Heimdall's eyes focused on him.
"It blinds me to all that moves within the realm. And with Loki missing…"
"You believe he's there," Odin finished. He had known Loki Laufeyson for years; he was aware that the Frost Giant prince was also a master of magic. There was hardly an individual across the nine realms who had the same extensive knowledge of magic as Loki, and Heimdall's guess warranted proper and thorough attention.
The only reason why he'd put off looking in Midgard was the mortals' current belief that all Asgardians were gods. He didn't want to disrupt that belief system by sending any of his warriors to search the realm. But now, with the Gatekeeper pointing out that that was a very likely place, Odin knew he had no other choice.
He lingered in the Bifrost long enough to witness the storm for himself, which looked like it was concentrated on a certain area – a certain country, or a town, even – and growing in size.
"What mischief is that boy up to now?" Odin murmured to himself.
Jotunheim
"There are whispers that the prince is gone."
"Impossible. If he was then the king would tell us."
"He knows the gravity of the situation that might arise if he loses his heir."
The whispers and gossip flew in the icy streets of the Frost Giants' realm. Whether in their native tongue or in the common tongue, all the Jotuns could talk about was the rumor that Loki had vanished. Few believed the rumor, but their wagging tongues soon had others accepting their point of view.
And with Laufey and Farbauti remaining tight-lipped about the whole affair, it seemed as if their next king had abandoned them to their fate.
Even as civil unrest rose among the Frost Giants – the sanctity of the bloodline was the strictest law for this race, who valued the purity of the ruling family – Laufey was determined to stop it.
"If I find that our son has simply been frolicking with the Elves of Alfheim…" Laufey turned from the window where he'd been watching his people gather in the streets. His scowl created furrows on his face, making his markings deeper than they actually were. "…he shall rue the day he decided to leave us on the eve of battle."
"Loki knows his responsibilities, husband," Farbauti told him. "He may be known for his tricks, but his loyalty to our people is unshakeable. He will return to help us win the war against Surtur."
Looking at the queen, it was clear where Loki had inherited his green eyes and dark hair from. Farbauti was known for her regal manner, her dark beauty contrasting that of Frigga's fair appearance. Both were queens and mothers, but unlike Frigga, Farbauti had a very unpredictable son.
Even now she wondered what her son was doing, and why, deep down, her motherly instincts were telling her that something evil and foul was behind his disappearance.
As Laufey continued to pace the floor, she found herself thinking of Amora. The Enchantress and her son had been intimate centuries ago, but the former's loose ways had finally driven a permanent wedge between them. It was one of those few moments where Farbauti was grateful that Loki had inherited her husband's tendency to hold a grudge for a long time. She never approved of Amora, and she doubted that she ever would.
"The people are growing restless. If they find out that our son is no longer here or in Asgard, they will surely revolt. We cannot participate in a war if we ourselves are being besieged!"
Farbauti rose from her seat then, her pale hand turning blue as she held her husband's own. The gesture was meant to calm him, but even as she squeezed his hand gently, she could tell he was still tense.
"He will return, Laufey. His absence does not mean that he has forsaken us – he will most certainly not forsake me, at the very least – it only means that he has been detained."
The confidence in her tone made Laufey consider her words and before long he nodded. "I bow to the wisdom of my queen."
"As well you should, my darling." Smiling, she wrapped her icy blue arms around her husband's waist. But what Laufey failed to see was the worried look on her face as her eyes turned towards the window, beyond which she knew lay the slowly fermenting unease among their people.
The Palace of Asgard
All the maps of the fields in Vanaheim, Alfheim, and Asgard had been scrolled tightly, each carrying detailed battle plans and strategies. Loki had started preparing most of these before his disappearance, and it took Lady Sif, Hogun, and Thor to come up with the plans that Fandral now had tucked under his arm.
"And to think that you actually scolded him for it," Fandral said cheekily, becoming solemn as Lady Sif threw him a warning look. "But his foresight has, as always, proven to be useful."
"Yes, it has." Thor looked at the scrolls wistfully, before picking up his warhammer and walking out of the meeting hall. There were guards everywhere now, and even Frigga had her own group of bodyguards. He knew she didn't like it, but the dangers that Surtur posed were too great. Odin and Thor didn't want to lose her, and she'd finally bowed to their wishes.
"He will return, my prince," Hogun said softly as they walked down the hallway.
Beside the warrior, Lady Sif snorted. "Loki has always been a troublemaker. Leaving us now would be his greatest triumph."
Thor looked at her then, frowning. While he knew his childhood friend was prone to pulling pranks, this was a serious matter. He didn't believe that Loki would simply leave them like this. If there was a reason why he wasn't here with them, it must be serious.
"My Lord, the Gatekeeper wishes to see you." One of the guards had approached them from the front courtyard, tilting his head down as a sign of respect. "He says the matter is urgent."
The Warriors Three and Lady Sif exchanged glances, but Thor visibly brightened at these words. "Is it Loki? Has Heimdall found him?"
"He said nothing, my liege. Only that he needed to see you immediately." Another salute and the guard was gone, making his way back to his post.
"Come. Let's see what this is about." Thor called for their horses, and before long he strode into the Bifrost with an expectant look on his face. "Well Heimdall? What is it that you see?"
Heimdall inhaled sharply, his eyes glazed over. It was only when Thor repeated his question a second time did the gatekeeper seem to snap out of his thoughts.
"The weather patterns in Midgard are strange," he murmured. "With the storm brewing, I find that I cannot…I cannot sense anything happening in a certain portion of the realm."
"And you think Loki is there?"
"I suspect he is," Heimdall said carefully. He knew the All-Father hadn't confirmed whether he was to send a search party there or not, but the Gatekeeper felt like the prince had to know. He didn't like some of the things that Loki did, but the war was more important than personal judgments and prejudices.
"Does the All-Father know of this?"
Heimdall nodded, but didn't elaborate. His loyalty to the king made him vague in some aspects, and Thor knew that he did it to fulfill his duty to Odin and to the Eternal Realm. Squaring his shoulders, he looked at Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. If Loki was in Midgard, he needed to bring his friend back.
No matter the cost.
On the road to Tromsø
For years he'd found the cold to be a comforting temperature, some place that reminded him of his Jotun heritage. Now, however, he hated it.
No matter how thick his fur was, it was now choked with clumps of snow that stuck to the strands, making it appear as if he was covered by a clammy blanket that grew heavier and heavier. But despite the wintry weather he pressed on, determined to reach Tromsø as soon as possible.
The thing that kept him going – the only thing that mattered – was the thought of being reunited with Jane. He didn't know how long he had spent in the blizzard, but Loki was sure that this weather anomaly was because of the Enchantress. He could almost hear her cold laughter in the wind and see her green eyes reflected in the slowly graying sky.
Knowing Amora, she was far from being done playing with him. He'd seen how she baited her victims, made them beg for her mercy and forgiveness. He refused to be one of the hundreds of men she'd baited, not after he'd finally seen what she was truly like.
Another gust of wind blew in his direction, and with it he could actually feel her breath against the back of his neck, his fur matting against his skin. Her fingers were like icy claws on his skin, and he jumped, turning in midair to face her, growling.
"My my, such manners, my love." Amora looked right at home in the cold, with her thick cloak draped over her green silk dress, held together by a slim gold belt. Why she insisted on wearing his colors even though they were no longer lovers irked him, and he wished with all his heart that Thor's lightning would strike her down.
Stop this madness, Amora!
"Why? Because of that woman, hm?" Her smile was dangerous, giving him a hint at the serpent that lay beneath. "Oh Loki, she's the reason why I've started this little challenge in the first place. Soon, however, she will no longer be of an issue."
She has no part in this! Leave her be and take me instead!
Amora hissed, advancing a few steps before she remembered he could tear her throat out, if he so wished. Her temper didn't disappear, and instead she balled her hands into fists. "She has had every part in everything that I've done! I love you, Loki, but you refuse to see it! You're supposed to love me, a powerful enchantress who can give you all that you desire! Yet you've fallen for this…for this human! What does she have that I don't?"
The trickster stilled, his eyes narrowing into slits.
She has me.
A/N: To make up for the long updates between the fourth chapter and the fifth, here's an excerpt from the next Lokane fan fic I have in the works: "Of Life and Death".
The screams that came from the dungeon were easily masked by the thick concrete walls. Four figures stood bathed in the dark orange light coming from the torches on the walls; two of them were restrained by thick chains fixed to the wall.
"So is it not true, then, that you and your brethren were plotting to steal the Casket?"
"No! No, m'lady, it's not-"
The taller figure beside the woman shifted in the shadows. "He lies."
A whip whistled in the air, leaving a red line across the prisoner's bare torso. "No, please, please! I'd never lie to you, m'lord and m'lady!"
The woman, who was holding the whip, reached her hand back for another strike, only for a long-fingered hand to grasp her wrist.
"Astrid. Enough."
Astrid's amber eyes looked back at her companion's emerald ones, hers full of defiance and a hint of lust. For a few seconds they stood there, staring at each other, locked in a battle of wills. Finally, however, Astrid relented, lowering her hand and staring at the prisoner she'd whipped with dislike.