Epilogue: Time Flows Ever Onward
One year later… May 3, 2012 AD
Green and gold flashed in a great arc outward, curving towards its target like a living blade of light, dancing in the moonlight. The target leapt out of its path, bowing out of the way and slicing through the second with a vicious slash of a sword. Dust kicked up as feet hit the ground, swirling up like a sliver-black cloud in the darkness of night. Two knives dug into the stone behind their mark's head, making the warrior scramble out of the way, and bring a sword smashing down on the ice that shot towards them. With a yell, they slipped onto their back, skidding on ice that coated the dirt of the sparing ring.
"Loki! That is not fair!" Fandral exclaimed, thrusting his sword into the ground to gain some traction. He froze at the tell tale chill in the air, more ice was coming. He had no footing on the ice beneath his feet, but still tried to block the oncoming blow, only to find himself on his backside once more. He heard footfalls nearby, an struck out with his leg, finding pay dirt as his opponent cried out in surprise and joined him on the ground. Fandral got up first, placing the point of his sword on Loki's chest. "Yield?" In the new moon darkness, Fandral couldn't see the smirk on his opponents face, but simply found him gone, and then trapped with Loki's sword to his neck.
"Do you?" Fandral dropped his sword and Loki released him.
"Can you get rid of the ice, please?"
"Already gone." Loki answered, lighting one of the torches around the grounds and pulling himself out of the sunken dirt ring. Fandral picked up his sword and sighed.
"Thank the Norns that the rest of Jotunhiem is not so capable or clever with their power as you are." The blonde warrior grumbled, sheathing his weapon and joining Loki on one of the stone benches in the training grounds. "Why is it always me who does these midnight training sessions with you?"
"Sif needs her sleep, Volstagg's wife would suspect things, and Hogun is less fun." Loki answered with a small smile, conjuring some water for both of them to drink.
"What about Thor?"
"Too loud." Loki replied with a smile. Fandral laughed quietly.
"Aye, he'd wake up half of Asgard. Can't have that, can we?" Loki shook his head. "Well, I do think I've gotten better. Nearly beat you this time."
"If I remember correctly, it was you who was always beating me when we first began this little practice." Loki said quietly.
"Yes, well that was a long time ago, you were still recovering from injuries and… other things." Fandral replied. Loki shrugged. "This is freezing." Fandral said, looking at the clear liquid in the glass Loki had given him.
"Melted ice, held in ice. I should think it's cold."
"Refreshing." Fandral smiled. "Though not so much as a good flagon of meade."
"I am not coming with you to that confounded tavern." Loki snapped.
"Oh come now Loki, that was ages ago, you have grown in your tolerance for alcohol since those days."
"Still embarrassing." Loki grumbled under his breath, and then grabbed Fandral's mug from him, making the blond give a cry of indignation. He had it back in his hands before a moment was out, now full of meade instead of water. "You're welcome."
"If only the rest of Asgard knew the benefits of having a sorcerer as a friend, you'd be the most popular person in Asgard!" Fandral exclaimed, drinking the meade, which was quite good.
"I'd rather not have the attention." Loki mused.
"Right, frost giant." Fandral said, as if just remembering that the prince who sat beside him was in fact, of Jotun blood.
It had only come at mountains of urging from Thor, the warriors three and Sif learning of who Loki truly was. It had been shocking to all of them, but it had also become a sort of massive joke. Well, perhaps joke was not the correct word...it was nothing to laugh at, but in truth it held little meaning to any of them. It made Loki a little uncomfortable at first, and it was easy to tell he was nervous about what telling them would do to his friendships, but much to his relief, the truth had hardly changed things. As Volstagg had put it, they knew Loki and knew he was no savage monster, what did it matter where he was from, he was their trusted friend. So he was a frost giant, what did it matter. He had always been a frost giant, whether or not they knew, the mere knowledge should not change things. So what if he was not Æsir, he was still Asgardian.
Of course, it still took some wrapping the mind around, the truth of Loki's heritage and the implications that came with it. It was also a bit enlightening, and helpful. At least they knew why Loki had a severe aversion to fire and heat, why he loved the colder months that nearly everyone else despised after a few weeks of the chills. Also, it had let them onto why he was weaker than they, because there was essentially something wrong with him on the biological level, making him smaller and weaker than all others of his kind. It also explained some of his personality that had been difficult to understand, even for all the years they'd known the second prince.
"Sorry."
"Huh?" Loki looked at Fandral, ebony eyebrows raised in confusion. "Sorry, sorry for what?"
"Called you a frost giant."
"I am a frost giant. I fail to see what you're apologizing for." Loki smiled. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable, Fandral, who I am. Nervous, scared people might discover who I am, of course, but I'm not ashamed of who I am. You mentioning that I am a frost giant is of no consequence to me." Fandral sighed and shook his head.
"I fear I will never fully understand how your mind works."
"I don't understand how my mind works, Fandral. You should not expect to." The prince replied with a soft smile on his face. "Please, it's been near half a year since I told you, stop walking on eggshells. If you keep it up, I shall have to erase your memory and resume lying to you." Fandral chuckled, knowing Loki was not serious, but the request to stop being gentle rang true.
"I am sorry, I merely do not wish to accidentally offend you."
"Don't call the frost giants savages and monsters, that's all I ask of you. Other than that, feel free to speak as you wish. Believe me, I have received far worse." Fandral winced at the thought, though he had always known it to be true. Even if Thor was present, Loki was the butt of plenty of mean-spirited jokes and insults, if Thor wasn't there it got even worse. And when Loki was alone, well, Fandral could only guess what sort of things he may have suffered. And yet he still cared for the people who had done nothing but despise him his whole life. It never ceased to make Fandral's head spin, ever made him regard his friend with a sense of wonder.
"Done for the night my prince?" Loki smiled at the formal tone of Fandral's question, but nodded.
"Indeed, see you in the morning?"
"Tis morning already. Speaking of which…" Fandral grabbed his bag and began to dig around in it before turning sheepishly to Loki. "Little light, if you don't mind." Loki smiled and gave a small laugh, conjuring a light with a twitch of his fingers. Fandral smiled and went back to rummaging through his bag, before he produced a small, wooden box. "Happy name day, Loki." Fandral smiled broadly and laughed, while Loki merely raised one of his ebony eyebrows in confusion. "I've been waiting forever to say that." The blond warrior sighed, handing Loki to box. "Go on, open it!"
"Typically gifts are given all at once." Loki said, puzzling over the small box. "Fandral, how does this open?"
"That is for me to have no clue on, and you to find out. It's a puzzle box, and I promise there is something inside, but you'll have to open the box first." Fandral crossed his arms and leaned back, looking very pleased with himself. Loki scowled.
"Clever you." He droned, but Fandral knew by simply looking at the young prince he was already picking apart how to open it. Besides, he had to being enjoying it somewhat, there was nothing stopping him from simply magicking it open. "Too late at night for this now. I'll figure it out tomorrow." Loki sighed, whisking the gift off to his magician's closet. "Thank you Fandral."
"You're welcome. See you in a few hours."
"Aye, you as well. If I get up at all."
May 4, 2012 AD
"So, how was midnight training?" Loki moaned and turned over in his bed at the sound of his brother's voice, pulling the silk sheets over his head in a vain attempt to hide from the morning. "That bad?"
"'M tired. Go away." Loki mumbled, not wanting to come out from his golden cocoon. Thor chuckled and grabbed the sheets away from his brother. "Thor! Give them back you insufferable oaf!"
"Only you would be this upset on your name day."
"I think you're more excited about it than I am."
"It is the first time I can actually celebrate your name day in 369 years, Loki." Thor said quietly, sitting down on the side of his brother's bed. Loki pushed himself out of his curled up position, running a hand through his hair. "Of course I'm excited." Loki sighed, closed his eyes and fell back on his bed with a grunt.
"Your gift to me can be five extra minutes." Thor's eyes fell, and then lingered on his brother's bare chest, or rather what lay in the center of it. The remains of the wound that had taken his life, a small scar just to the right of his heart. Æsir never, ever scarred, the only scar Thor had was from a wound that had nearly killed him, and even now it was faint and hardly visible, he had to point it out if it was to be seen, though the wound that made it had stretched clear across his back.
Loki's scar was a haunting reminder of what had happened to him, Thor sometimes wondered if it pained him, though it didn't seem to. Loki's strength and health was fully returned by now, his magic back to its normal state, there was nothing wrong with him, no lingering effects for him to suffer. Besides of course the ongoing awkwardness of having been dead for 368 years. Of course, that had died down when their father, and Thor and Loki with him, began to change the story a little, changing execution to imprisonment, claiming that Loki had been stuffed away all these years, not dead. It worked well enough, a much easier story to believe than the truth and most everyone (except for the people of Asgard, who knew the truth) drank it without question. It was one secret all Asgard was sworn by honor to keeping, and they were doing a fine job.
"Stop staring." Loki's voice broke Thor out of his thoughts. "It's only a scar."
"I know, I'm sorry." Loki waved his brother's apology off, and then let out an exasperated sigh. He rolled himself off the bed and wandered over to the wardrobe on the far wall, grabbing a simple green shirt and pulling it over his head, then running his hands through his hair to smooth it down.
"Happy?" He asked, turning to Thor.
"That was fast." Thor chuckled, getting up on from the edge of Loki's bed. He wasn't dressed as casually as Loki, who was clearly still tired from the practice he'd had the night before, but he wasn't wearing any armor, only simple blue pants, grey boots and a red shirt. Loki didn't even bother with shoes. It was his name day, everyone else could deal with it, he was not in the mood to dress nicely.
"Taking a few hints from you." Loki mumbled. Thor shrugged and motioned for Loki to follow him out of the room.
"Come on, time for breakfast." Loki followed Thor quietly, grabbing a pair of boots and a jerkin on his way out. He supposed he could at least look presentable for breakfast. Thor couldn't help laughing as Loki hopped along, pulling his boots on while trying to keep up with his older brother. It confused Thor sometimes, that Loki could just use magic to dress, but instead he went about it as most people did. Then again, that was not the strangest thing Loki did. Once he finished pulling on his boots, Loki fixed the open leather jerkin he'd grabbed, and began to roll of the selves of the emerald shirt beneath.
"I have to wonder, what is my age, really?" Loki mused, fusing with one of his selves. Thor gave him a quizzical look, but Loki explained. "Am I 740, or am I 1108? Are we going to count 368 missing years, does my body count them?"
"I'm counting them." Thor said, looking his brother over. "And you look the same age as me still, I think your time away has been counted to your life." Loki shrugged.
"Just a thought." Loki mused.
"It's funny, half the gifts we have for you, we have waited so long to give you. Two name days in one, in a way." Loki frowned.
"You...you kept gifts for 368 years?" He asked. Thor nodded solemnly.
"I spent much of my time searching for something, anything, that could connect me to you. Anything that was yours, or that was supposed to be. Just couldn't bear to get rid of them I suppose." Loki slowed to a halt, staring at the floor.
"I'm sorry Thor. I'm so sorry." Thor frowned, stopping to look at his brother. "I never meant to hurt you. If I'd know the pain it would have caused...I never would have let myself die. I'm so sorry."
"Loki." Thor said, quietly, walking back to his brother and grasping his brother's thin shoulders with his callas hands. "Brother, I know you never meant to hurt us, you were doing what you thought you had to. You gave up everything for us, we could ask for no more from you than that. You were so brave, my brother. Please, don't ever feel you have to apologize for saving us."
"I can try." Thor laughed slightly at his brother's reply, and pulled him into a hug. He supposed it was the best he could ask for, and it was better than nothing. He released the smaller man, and pulled him along with one arm on the thin shoulders, before Loki ducked out from under him. Thor smiled as he walked side by side with his younger brother once more. It had been a year since Loki's return to Asgard, but the time of absence had been so long, there were still some terrifying moments, mornings where he woke and thought it all a dream, days where he was still surprised to see Loki wandering around the palace or watching him spar. He still had to do double takes. It was like that for all of them, but with time, each passing day made life easier.
Upon the princes arrival to the dining hall, Sif leapt to her feet, pointing at Loki triumphantly and casting her gaze towards the half-asleep Fandral.
"You got him up! Fandral, you owe me!" Sif exclaimed, holding her hand out to the dazed blonde warrior who looked just as tired as Loki, if a bit more haggard.
"You were making bets on whether I would get up?"
"You and Fandral always sleep late after new moons." Sif replied with a smirk, pocketing the money a begrudging Fandral gave her.
"How is it going by the way, getting better with that ice of yours?" Volstagg asked, though he was mostly seemed to be eagerly awaiting food.
"I should say he is. Bastard uses it to cheat." Fandral growled.
"It was not cheating."
"You coated the ground in ice! I couldn't walk!" Loki laughed at his friend's ire. Perhaps turning the ring into an ice rink was a low move, but it worked, and it was fun. Though, Fandral did have the right to be upset, he supposed.
"Hush, food is coming!" Volstagg said, pointing to where the servants came from the halls outside the dining room. It was a smaller one, only big enough for the royal family and close friends. The king and queen weren't there yet, but they would join their family soon enough. The servants placed the food down, then left the room, and Volstagg of course wasted no time digging into the platters set out.
"Your wife must be so glad that you share in the palace meals so often, Volstagg, so she does not have to feed that ludicrous appetite of yours." Sif said, but the large warrior paid her no heed. Loki grabbed an apple from one of the trays and the others began to pick what they wanted, though having more courtesy than their voluminous companion and waiting for the arrival of the king and queen.
"Thor, Loki, my sons." Frigga's voice carried over the air like silk and sweet honey. She glided across the room, followed by Odin, and embraced each of her sons. Name days were celebrated by Asgardians, of course, marking the passage of another year of life, and they carried meaning, but with so many years to live, they seemed to loose some of it. But not this one, or any that would follow in Loki's life. He, more than anyone, knew the value of life, of each passing moment and each year lived, even when thousands were to be had. And his family never again would take a year with him for granted; each year with Loki was a gift, an unexpected blessing on weary hearts. This, to those in attendance, was by far the most important and emotional name day celebration they had ever been to.
Frigga's embrace of her youngest lingered, making Loki's face take a sadness to its pale features.
"I'm not going anywhere, mother."
"Shh, and let a mother hold her son." She whispered into his ear, stroking the back of his head. It was moments like this that Loki felt so incredibly guilty for heaping such hurt on his family. How he could have assumed that they would not suffer with him gone, had he deluded himself into thinking they did not care for him, that he was of little worth to them? It was not as though he was the center of their world, and he had not expected Thor to miss him so much. From what his friends told him, Thor had been a shell of himself with Loki gone, and even all the years had given his tortured brother no rest. It seemed Thor was not the only one unaware of how much Loki meant to him.
Finally, his mother released him to go to the table, Loki settling down in the place that usually would have been Thor's, but not today. Today the place of honor was all his, one day of every year.
Breakfast carried on calmly enough, though there were no servants in the room. There were no secrets at this table, and that meant that some highly classified state secrets were openly discussed there, namely Loki's origins. It had begun as the same sort of tense topic as Loki's execution and "time away" had been, but had slowly become a topic of easier conversation. Now it was nearly freely talked about when they were in each other's company, something Loki was more than glad of. It helped him cope with it in a way he had never before, by simply talking and joking about it all as if it were normal, not some great looming secret. Life was looking up for Loki, finally.
"Fandral, did you have give him a puzzle? He'll be working on that little box all day!" Volstagg exclaimed throwing his hands at the young prince who was perched on one of the benches around the sparring rings, puzzling over his puzzle box, as he had been for most of the morning.
"Well, he likes it doesn't he?" Fandral protested. "Right Loki?"
"Huh? Wha?"
"See what I mean?" Volstagg said, sagging a bit. Loki smirked and went back to his box. "He will be on that all day."
"I've nearly got it." Loki countered, green eyes running over the carvings on the box, working over the intricate workings of the many puzzles on the surface. Opening the box took a number of complex movements, made in order, which was why it was taking him so long. He'd made about a hundred mistakes, and it was difficult to move the contraption back into place after he hit a wall. But, despite the trouble the little wood box had given him, he loved it. Leave it to Fandral to engage his mind.
"Is there something inside there, Fandral?" Thor asked, pulling himself out of the sparring ring. The smaller blond nodded.
"Had to give him some reason to open it."
"I would have opened it if it was going to bite me when I did." Loki replied.
"And that's why I got it." Fandral smiled. No one could deny he knew his friend well, Loki loved mind games, and he had an incredibly sharp mind, beyond most in Asgard. He needed to practice the thing, debates with warriors who were not the best with words or thought wouldn't do, so, puzzles.
"Got it!" Loki exclaimed, pulling the small drawer out of the box. "Fandral, what in the nine did you put in here?" Loki was struggling a bit with the box, like it was sticking. Finally, he pulled it open, the object inside flying out, making him fumble to catch it. It was a small wooden wolf's head, strung on a simple leather cord through a hole on top of it, ears pricked up in frozen attention, eyes swirling in the dark stained wood. The symbol of loyalty.
"That, took me forever to make." Fandral said, and Loki looked up at him with wide green eyes. "That's not just a pendant, Loki. It's a promise." Loki paused; looking back down at the small wolfs head.
"Thank you Fandral." Loki looked up at his friends again and smiled, putting on the pendant and looking up at Volstagg. "Is there a reason you wanted to get me away from the puzzle? Do you have plans?" Volstagg looked away, a little sheepish, before going back into the sparring ring, practically dragging Fandral with him. Loki watched his friends spar for a little while longer, smiling at the banter tossed back and forth, and even engaging in a match or two himself. He shared lunch with them there in the rings, spending the noon hours away. They did not see when he slipped away, he was silent as snow and swift as shadow. They did not know where he went to, but they knew from a lifetime with Loki that he valued his time on his own, time at peace.
It is an interesting thing, to be alone in a sea of people. It is strangeness and charm, to walk through a crowd but be alone, in a world separate from all those around. It was a feeling Loki knew well, and he cherished it. Today, he had a hood pulled over his head in the market place, green eyes peering out at all the people around him as they went about their lives. He lived for moments like this, when he was invisible and he could just watch life happen. He looked around him, mind creating stories for each person passing him by, a mother guiding her child through the market for the first time, a father buying a gift for his son or daughter, a young warrior trying to make his way, fingering the hilt of his father's sword. It was so easy for life in the palace to consume him, so easy to forget what his job was. His job was to protect these people, to ensure that tomorrow more mothers would watch over their children, that the father was still there to buy his gift, that the warrior lived to see old age, that was his job. These people, they depended on him to keep them safe, whether they knew it or not, he could push and pull the pieces of the world to protect his home.
This was his world, these simple pleasures and pains that made up life. His thanks was not in glory or tall tales. It was in the smile of a child, a baby's cry, the gleam in a warrior's eye. His glory was not found in blood on a battlefield. It was a mother's lullaby, a father's tales, the wonder in children's eyes. Loki's greatest rewards in life were not the admiration of warriors or the praise of his peers. His greatest rewards were in the moments when life was beautiful, when through all the pleasure and pain, the living and the dying, the laughing and the crying, it was just, plain, magnificent.
He lived for moments like this.
He had died for moments like this.
The people around him looked up, a few bowed slightly, gazing past him. Loki knew without looking that Thor was behind him. He was wondering how long Thor would allow him time on his own, here in the marketplace. He was surprised Thor had lasted this long, to the late afternoon. He did not mind, he would never mind Thor's company.
"Hello Thor." Loki said, soft smile gracing his face as he turned to look at his brother. Thor hadn't even bothered to hide himself, he had no reason to. It wasn't as though Thor could be discrete if he tried. Loki's smile only grew and he reached for his brother's hand, just like when they were children. Thor was pulled along as Loki began to run, hood falling from his face and cloak flowing behind him as he called back at his brother. "Come on, I want to talk and I know just the place."
Loki threw the small door open and crawled out onto the balcony, Thor following him slower. For some reason, it was the first time Loki had been up here since… since he came home. He did not know why, there were no sour memories in this place, there could be none. This was his and Thor's place, and only theirs. The breeze blew his hair around and out of it's place, driving wayward black strands into his face. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the sky rose colored light, gold clouds like a flame cutting across the heavens. Loki stood at the edge of the balcony, gazing out at the world in childlike wonder.
Thor followed, slower, almost afraid. The last time he had stepped foot on this balcony, he had been arguing with Baldur, and mourning the brother that now stood before him. How things had changed since that day.
"Isn't it beautiful Thor?" Loki asked, not turning to face his brother. Thor turned his gaze out to the world around them, at the sun and the sky and the bustling city below.
"It is." And it truly was. How had he forgotten that? "You wished to speak, brother." Thor asked, drawing Loki's attention away from the view before them.
"Do you remember when we first found this place?" Loki asked. Thor nodded with a smile.
"I woke you up, we were sneaking about the palace at night, trying to reach the top. We never told anyone we found it. Mother and father would always wonder where we had gone, they would have surely punished us, for being up here so young." Loki smiled and looked back to the sunset. "I remember telling you I was terrified of being king one day."
"And I told you that you hadn't a thing to worry about, that you would be a great king." Loki finished. "I remember you telling me you were proud to have a mage as a brother, that you bragged about me all the time." Thor smiled softly.
"I still do. No one in Asgard has a brother like I do." Thor sighed. "Do you remember when mother got pregnant with Baldur?"
"And we were so excited?" Loki asked, and Thor nodded. "I remember. I remember how distressed you were when she was in labor."
"And you were calm. Or at least you were calm for my sake." Thor smiled. "What went so wrong, Loki?"
"I don't know. I have tried to find out many times, I still do not know." Loki replied. Then a smile crossed his face. "Do you remember when we were young and you stole some meade from the kitchens?" Thor could not help the smile that peeled across his face, or the laughter that silently shook his frame. Loki soon joined him. "You got so drunk… father was furious!"
"He blamed you." Thor said, chuckling a little. "I tried to say it was me, but my words were so mixed up…"
"'Not father, me Loki' was essentially what came out." Loki said, trying not to laugh.
"I daresay your coming of age drinking with Fandral and Volstagg ending more embarrassingly, brother." Thor countered. Loki blushed and looked away.
"We are not going to talk about that." Thor laughed aloud at Loki's response, forgetting the troubles of the past. In those moments, on this balcony, nothing else mattered. It was just he and Loki, and all was right with the world.
Loki and Thor made their way down from the balcony just after sunset, for a rather late dinner. It was no matter to any one else in the family, though Sif and the warriors three were a bit perturbed that Loki had vanished halfway through the day. Of course, they could not argue too much, it was a heavy day, full with as much joy as it was sorrow. Dinner had been when Odin and Frigga gave their gifts, and eyes had not remained dry.
Odin gave Loki his bow back. Not the bow Odin had given him, a weapon Loki had hardly used, but the one he had made for himself, black stained dark wood, well used and well loved, and thought long gone. Odin had kept it, unable to let it fall prey to his anger, something that had been so completely Loki's that he could not get rid of it. He'd not given it back right away because, well, he had been ashamed of his actions towards Loki. And he'd lost it, somewhere.
Frigga's gift had been the tearjerker. Mostly for Loki, because it meant far more to him than anyone else in the room, but his friends and family found they could not help the lumps in their throats when Loki had melted into his mother's arms.
It had been a letter, which only Loki and his mother knew the contents of, and a small gift, something that had been Loki's when he was an infant, something he apparently would never part with. It was a small cloak clasp, Loki would explain to Thor later that he did in fact remember the golden thing, and recalled when he took it from their mother and refused to return it. Of course added to the clasp had been a cloak, according to his mother to replace the "ancient, ratty thing you insist on wearing on all of your inane adventures", which had made the room go into raucous laughter despite the tears that had streaked their faces. Of course, those were gifts one of two, though the older ones were hardly as emotionally weighted at the more recent ones.
It was late night; stars outside shining bright like flecks of ice and snow on a black velvet cloak in the night sky. A wafting plume of smoke snaked up towards the moon's silver sliver hanging in the air. It came from one of the few places still alight in Asgard, for at this late hour most of the great realm eternal slept soundly, calm and undisturbed. Peace had returned once more to Asgard, after all the strife and heartache of years past, peace was back, due in no small part to those who sat awake on this clear spring night. A fire roared in the massive pit as tales were shot back and forth across the flames, each friend telling each story in his own way, twisting it's truth to be more appealing to their ego. Royalty and friends laughed and joked as equals, reveling in the memory of bygone days when they were young, reckless and free. Tale after tale of foolhardy adventure ending in much the same way, one prince saved our lives while the other smashed his way about, each helping in their own way. One prince got them into messes, both got them out.
Loki listened to these tales and smiled, not bothering, as his friends were, to dress up his involvement in them, there was no need. His friends were doing a decent job. Volstagg was still eating, though technically the food was open for all of them, but the rest of the friends had long since finished the meal, only occasionally picking at the assortment of deserts.
"Think you're up for more gift giving, little brother?" Thor asked, joking lilt to his tone but the question was a serious one, Loki wasn't quite sure his heart could take much more joy and sadness swirling inside for the night. It was a strange combination of lightness and heaviness in his chest, he hardly knew what to do with it, he was overjoyed to be back with his family but devastated by the pain that still lingered on. He wondered if it would ever go away. "Loki?"
"Huh? Oh…I suppose." Loki replied, shaking himself from his thoughts. Sif jumped up, almost giddy to give over the gift she had gathered for him all those ages ago on Vanaheim. She bounded over to him in a very uncharacteristic manner, nearly bouncing on her toes as she handed it to him, his eyebrows raised in confusion.
"Take it." She said, pushing it closer to him. Loki knew what it was very quickly, it was a book, a very, very old one. He carefully opened up the cover, noting that the leather had a number of thin water stains on it, tearstains. It was a book of spells, worn but legible. "There's this abandoned castle in Vanaheim, with a massive library. I went to find it, but since I couldn't take a whole library, I got you a book. I'd like to take you…if we get the Bifrost fixed." Sif finished, turning to glare slightly at Thor.
"Well, there are other ways. Thank you Sif." Loki said, standing to embrace his friend. Something hit his chest before he could reach her, looking down showed it to be Sif's hand.
"I…I've been practicing a bit, even if I said I wouldn't." Sif mumbled, looking at her hand in the center of Loki's chest, her other hand holding behind her back. "I know you like that short sword, but I thought you should have a longer weapon, just because. I hope the enchantments don't grate too much." She told him, pulling her hand from her back, and handing him the long sword. It was not terribly long still, and it was a thin and curved blade, the handle matching exactly with Loki's other weapon, the night black sword his father had given him nearly a year ago. Loki pulled the blade out, revealing it to be black as his other as well, and he ran his hand along the obsidian surface, scanning Sif's enchantments.
"Sif, you did perfectly." Loki said with a small smile.
"It's from Alfhiem, I know you're not fond of dwarves." Sif replied, fingering her black hair. Loki smiled, giving her a breathy laugh and shaking his head. He the slid sword back into the scabbard and placed it down behind him. This time he did not let Sif stop him from wrapping her up in his arms.
"Thank you." He whispered into her shoulder, then pulling away to let her scuttle back to her seat.
"Dammit Sif, why are you so good at this?" Volstagg asked.
"Because I know him best. Besides Thor of course." She replied smugly. Neither Loki, nor any of the others, tried to deny it. It was a fact really; Sif knew Loki as well as she knew herself. She may have been one of the last to enter their circle of friends, but she was without a doubt Loki's nearest and dearest friend, the only person closer to him was Thor. "Your turn Volstagg." The portly warrior looked a little sheepish as he handed Loki his old gift.
"I don't know if you'll even recall this now…" he began, but all his fears were banished when the younger prince burst into laughter when he saw what the gift was. "You do remember! Thank the norns! I promise it's not four centuries old, but it's still what I had."
"I'm confused." Fandral said, looking at what Loki was holding. It was a sweet roll, one Volstagg had gotten from the kitchens that evening. There were plenty of them around, so it made little sense to the rest of the company. Loki finally gathered himself to explain the story.
"Three days before everything with Baldur came to a head, I was in my room, reading at some norns forsaken hour of the night, when someone starts pounding on my door. It was Volstagg, he'd stayed out too late and his wife had kicked him out. He came to ask for me to convince her to let him back into his house. I told him to wait there and I'd see what I could do. I talked to her, and she agreed to let him back, but when I get back to my room he's eaten what I had left from dinner that night, a sweet roll. I told him he owned me one, and apparently he's paid up." Loki explained, making his friends chuckle slightly.
"You know, I've just noticed something." Thor said. "Whenever any of us have a problem, a story of a problem, it starts with whatever the trouble was and then 'so I went to Loki to see if he could help…' and then you just drop everything and help us, no matter how stupid our problem may be."
"That is what friends are for, is it not? When you are in need of help, they help you, no matter the circumstances." Loki answered. Thor smiled at his brother, then turned to Volstagg, silently asking if he had another gift for Loki.
The vast elder warrior handed Loki a small box a bit sheepishly, and Loki took it with a skeptical look at his friend. What could be making Volstagg so bashful, besides the circumstance of course?
Inside the box was another puzzle, actually two puzzles, for him to solve. So that was why he'd been so up in arms about Fandral's gift, he'd done the same. Still Loki was more than grateful for them; he truly enjoyed the challenge they provided him with.
Fandral had given him the gifts he had already, and Hogun's were a few new journals (Loki had complained once in the gruff warriors presence that even the blank ones were gone) and the old gift of a book of spells from his home realm of Vanaheim.
Thor was next. Loki hoped to high Valhalla that Thor would be gentle with them, that they were not something that would make him break down into a teary mess, he really didn't want to do that. But Thor seemed to have the same problem, as he couldn't seem to let go of the four century old gift he'd gotten so long ago, just turning it over and over in his hands before finally handing it to Loki. It was a book, but no book Loki had ever seen before. Emblazoned on the leather cover was a picture of Mjolnir in all its glory and lighting, and then a pair of knives wreathed in magic behind the hammer.
"You told me once that there would be no stories like the ones about the two of us." Thor whispered. "I figured I would get you started on writing them down." Loki opened the cover, and found that the book was the tales of their adventures, from the mischief caused at a young age to the quests they had gone on with their friends, or alone. Everything, every little escapade, every time they went to cause trouble, or find some lost relic, up until everything went wrong. After all of those stories were blank pages, but it was the first blank page that struck Loki like lighting.
It wasn't blank. On it, in Thor's handwriting were these words:
I'm so sorry, brother. But…there won't be any more stories.
You're gone.
I'm so sorry, but our story is over.
It's a tragedy. I have written a tragedy.
"It's not a tragedy Thor." Loki said with a weak smile, grabbing a hold of the corner of the page. "The story isn't over." He pulled the page out, crumbling it in his hand and tossing it into the fire in the center of their circle. "Do you understand, it's not over. There will be more insane adventures and more amazing stories. There will be no stories like these, and there will be more of them." Thor smiled back at Loki, staring into the fire where flames consumed the story of the worst time of his life.
"I…I'll give you my other gift later, Loki." Thor said, and Loki nodded. There had to be a reason for Thor to do that, and he was content to relax and talk with his friends for a while longer.
The night came to a close, and Loki was just getting into his massive bed when Thor slipped into his room. "I'm opening and ending my name day with my brother." Loki smiled when he saw him. "I can think of no better way."
"I have something else for you, Loki."
"Oh?" Thor nodded, and handed Loki a larger, dark wood box, beautiful knots carved on top of it, swirling around the image that matched the one from the book Thor had given him earlier. Thor handed Loki a small piece of parchment paper, where a note was written in Thor's scratchy runes. "To my brother, who I now know I cannot face life without, who I love with all I am, who holds my heart in his hands and has protected it all these years. To my brother, who has given everything for me and whom I would give everything for. To my brother, who has saved me not only from others, but also from myself. To my brother, who has never left my side." Loki read the words quietly, smiling a little at Thor getting so eloquent. He opened the box slowly, and couldn't help the tears that began to stream down his face as he did.
"They are the same." Thor said quietly, sitting next to his brother and looking at the knife set he gave him. The exact same as the set Thor had gotten him ages ago, but that their father had destroyed in his anger.
"There is something written inside here." Loki mumbled, flicking a little light spell so he could see clearly, then let out a choked breath. No matter where you are from, who your parents were, what you do, or where you go, you always were, always are and always will be my beloved brother.
"Now and forever Loki." Thor said, wrapping his arms around his brother's shaking frame. "Never doubt that I love you. Never fear that I think differently of you. You are my brother, nothing will ever change that."
Is it not shocking sometimes, how the things we know can change us so?
And that's all she wrote.
Thank you so much to all the wonderful people who have been so kind in their reviews, and thanks to all those who favorited and followed as well. I have truly enjoyed writing this story, and a daresay I wish it did not have to end. But sadly, it does. I may write a sequel, I have not yet decided, and I do not have a plot line. Thank you to all of you who have read this far, means a lot to me.
Hope you enjoyed it!