(After 3.06 Red Sky at Morning)
(Loki's story is based off an actual Norse story.)
"No one can just be alright with dying." Sam grumbled as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling of Loki's bedroom. Sam was becoming far too familiar with those four walls. Like the time pieces on shelves that ran along the wall; some of them Sam swore he'd seen in museums. Pottery and stones with carvings that Sam had never seen before. More modern pin ups of women and some men were spread out on the walls. And there was, of all things, a framed glass of candy wrappers, though most of the brands were not American. Little pieces of things that Sam could obviously point to Loki's trickster origins, "Dying AND going to Hell."
Loki looked somewhat bored with the proceedings, but if he had any complains, he kept it to himself, "He was the one that signed the contract."
"He shouldn't have." Sam muttered, the burning sensation of frustration with Dean finally boiling over. Dean got to go to that party with Bela and Sam had been stuck with the old Silver Fox that wouldn't leave his ass alone. Sam had begun his complaints with the old woman which then spilled over to Dean and his sold soul with the time that was ticking away on his contract. There was barely 6 months left. It ate up what ever bliss had been over Sam minutes before and dissolved into relaying everything to Loki. Not that he was asking for help. Sam was sure Loki would ask for something outrageous if Sam asked for help, "I just wish he wouldn't put on the stupid mask and tell me he's fine with it." Sam huffed and Loki knitted his fingers together, laying belly down and his chin rested on his hands.
"Did you ever hear the tale of how Thor got his hammer?" Loki asked and Sam rolled his head to the side to stare at him. He'd only heard a hand full of Norse tales, like Loki cutting Sif's hair and Odin sacrificing his eye for vast knowledge to a well.
"No, why?" Sam stretched his arms up slowly. He was slowly feeling more relaxed there, and every time he seemed to stay longer. He thought less about being back to the motel before Dean.
"Because, it's an amazing story and I think you'd enjoy it." Loki pushed himself up and Sam turned onto his side and tugged a pillow under his arm for support, "About, oh, 8 or 9 thousand years ago, I had this bet with a hot-headed dwarf, named Brock, who said that his brother could make better treasures than the treasures that I procured from some other dwarfs." Sam gave Loki a look at the word procured and Loki waved off his hand, as though that was a story for another time. Max came clacking up with his nails on the tile and he hopped up on the bed. Max also got comfortable, flopping down on his side to listen to Loki talk. Sam absently started to rub his ears and Max huffed, as though he was giving Sam the privilege to pet him, "Now, dwarfs are superior to gods in only one way, and in that way is that they can create items that would astound anyone." Loki put his fingers together and drew them apart, a ghostly illusion of a large ship appeared in the air and Sam felt Max's tail start to wag against his abs. Sam smiled. It looked like Max enjoyed the show; and really, Sam did too. "My gifts to my co-gods was a ship that could be sailed on the most vicious seas, but it could also be folded up and put into a man's pocket." As Loki spoke, the ship seemed to fold like paper, making a neat package. It faded out, following Loki's verbal tale, "And my second gift was a spear that hit what ever the thrower aimed for.
"Now, Brock's brother, Sindri, set about to make gifts greater than mine and they would be judged by the gods. Who ever won would have the loser's head. And I was intent on not losing mine. So I spied on them. In the caves, far below the open air of Asgard. Sindri had Brock fan the flames so that they were neither too high or too low for his projects. He needed the fire perfect to work the materials and magic. What I sent to distract Brock was a great wasp to sting him as he fanned the fire. And let me tell you, being stung by one of those suckers is like getting hit by white hot iron. The wasp stung him in the hands first, as the fist project was under way, but Brock was so intent on winning, he worked through the pain until the gift was done. The first gift was a flying, golden boar that glowed when it was in the air. It was dubbed, Golden Bristle.
"Sindri was pleased with the gift, but he said it would not be the only thing he would create. He could do better. So, he had Brock fan the fire again, for longer and the dwarf's hands burned, as though acid was in his veins. But Brock continued without a complaint. The wasp then stung him in the back, and he nearly crumpled, but he didn't stop; neither letting the flames die low or rise too high. He was very stubborn and would not stop until the next gift was complete. The next gift was a golden arm ring that would multiply itself eight times every ninth night. It was given a name, Draupnir, the Ring of Increase. It would make any god rich in time.
"Brock was very pleased with the gifts, but Sindri was not yet satisfied that they would be better than my boat or my spear. So there was one more gift to be made and again, Brock had to keep the fire steady as the brother worked. So the wasp stung him twice in the knees before landing on Brock's fat nose and stung him between the eyes. And it blinded him. Therefore, he could not make sure the fire was perfect. The fire died too low just for a second and Sindri presented the almost perfect piece, Mjolnir, a hammer of great power that only those with the strength of Thor could wield. But the hammer was anything but perfect since the fire had died too low and the handle did not balance out the head of the hammer.
"The gifts would have to do though. Brock could barely walk, he was nearly blind and he could barely hold his own hands up. But the brothers went to the palace to present their gifts to the gods. The flying boar, Golden Bristle, went to Frey and she was delighted with the creature that flew about and glowed like a firefly. Golden Bristle was not all together greater than my gifts though. Draupnir was then presented to Odin and he adored the ring and its wonders. But both together was not greater than my gifts. They were decorative, not exceptionally useful for the whole of Asgard. But then they presented Mjolnir to Thor and let me tell you, you will never see a god more wrapped up in a weapon than that man. I'm telling you, if Mjolnir had a hole, Thor wouldn't even have a wife..."
"Loki." Sam raised his brows and the images started fading from the space between his hands. Loki smiled and shrugged.
"I'm just saying. Anyway, the gifts together, the golden boar, the golden ring, and Mjolnir were all decreed as greater than my gifts and Brock was allowed to take my head. And in those days, it was, believe it or not, frowned upon to murder in Asgard." Sam gave Loki a questionable look, "I know, seems unbelievable, but it's all about politics and stuff. Brock was eager to take my head and he nearly did, but instead, he decided that my lips should be sewn together as punishment for boasting. So, as a result, I had my lips sewn together for a few months and Thor got his hammer. The ungrateful asshole." Sam laughed and as Loki's story concluded with the image of Loki with his lips sewn together with silver thread evaporated from view.
"So you lost." Sam smiled, feeling a sense of pride towards Brock that chose the right punishment for Loki, "He won and came out the better man for it." Loki shrugs.
"Yes, he won." Loki folded his hands together, forearms on his knees. Loki's eyes were focused on Sam, leaning close, "But at what cost did he win? The wasp's poison was in his system far too long to be completely cured. He could barely walk, work, or see for the rest of his life." Sam wet his lips, thinking.
"But out of it, out of his sacrifice, there was Thor's hammer. And Thor used it to help people, didn't he?" Sam reasoned, "So, I think it was worth the pain." Loki gave a small suffering sigh, as though Sam was missing the point, but if he had a retort, it was distracted by a snore from Max. Sam smiled, gently rubbing Max's head.
"Look who's all cozy now." Loki leaned his head up on his knuckles and poked Max's paw, which twitched and the dog rolled over into Sam's warm chest, ears falling open and looking absolutely the picture perfect definition of a lazy dog. Loki shook his head, rubbing Max's belly, "He's such a bed hog. Look at him; mooching."
"He's spoiled." Sam pet Max's neck and chest.
"You're the one that brought him chicken."
"He loves chicken." Sam had only seen Max do a back flip once and it was for chicken.
Loki only smiled wider and Sam grinned. Sam was struck with how easy this was becoming. The apartment was becoming a place that was familiar and Sam knew where to put his things down when he came in. The talks were getting longer and more personal. Loki was telling him about his life and Sam was letting his own life slip into Loki's knowledge. It was getting dangerous.
Loki was a trickster, Sam reminded himself and cleared his throat, "It's late." Sam enjoyed Max being comfortable enough to sleep next to him, but that was proof enough that he'd stayed way too long for a formal visit.
"Yep." Loki agreed and Sam slowly rolled out of bed, propping Max up with the pillow he'd been using before he got dressed. He still hoped he made it home before Dean.