A New Age
-West of Asgard's Capital-
The blasts and explosions were deafening; screams of pain, of agony and of anger roared from every direction, closing in and consuming Thor even as he smashed his hammer through skulls.
Rain, blood and sweat trickled down his bloody face. Thunders roared, lightning streaked through the skies and struck the earth, making everything tremble. Flying ships were brought down with a mighty crash and fire…there was fire everywhere. The ground was slippery with mud and blood; bodies were piling everywhere and crunching beneath heavy boots.
The Dark elves kept coming without end and they kept fighting, pushing back and being pushed back.
In the heat of battle, every sight, every sound seems to blur into one another.
Burning elves fell from the skies, burning soldiers were shrieking in anguish, running blindly before they fell and moved no more. Men crumpled on the ground with half their guts spilled from their bodies and some fought even with their guts hanging out. Thor sees all of this but he felt nothing as he kills and slaughters one foe after another.
In the heat of battle, time seem to slow or even stop, the past and future seem to vanish until there is nothing but the instant. There is no fear, there is no mercy, there is no thought and there is no pain. You do not feel your wounds until you stop; you do not feel the exhaustion of your body until you stop. All that existed is the fight, the foe…
The bodies beneath his feet do not matter, the death all around him do not matter.
One day blurred into the next, one week into the next, and one month into the next and one year into the next. They fight and they push, until the Dark Elves would retreat from where they had taken captives. Or if they lose, they would regroup and start again. Surrender is never an option. And when shouts of victory would resonate, it was empty. Even as Thor sat down in his tent of animal skin in the night after a victory, there would be no joy.
Years passed, and though it hardly put a dent to Thor's life spend, he found that he had not returned to the capital in close to a century. He had not laid eyes on the Golden City for close to a century.
Thor took a sip from his wineskin as he shuffles through the reports from the North and the Golden City.
Up North, it was said that wherever the Jotuns go, a shadow will envelope the land and snow would fall endlessly. The trees withered and die in the frigid cold that the Jotuns bring like a plague that eats away at all that is around them. They are currently a host of at least seventy thousand strong with Loki riding at the head of at least twenty thousand, while one of the brothers, Aphrodite incarnate apparently, took ten and Laufey took the rest.
Loki rides to battle on the back of a massive white dire wolf it was said. Fire the image of a serpent would heed his command it was said. And with a wave of his hand, the ground would split as if to the depths of Hel and black fire would roar; foul creatures would crawl out from that despicable abyss at the command of that witch prince it was said. Thousands of dreadful flesh eating insects would eat Aesir soldiers alive as they shrieked in utter anguish. And the picture of corpses touch by Loki's black seid was horrendous - bodies charred to blackness and the skin was drawn so tight around the skull it threatened to tear. Wide gapping mouth black as the abyss, and eyes opened so wide it was popping out of its place.
Pages after pages describing the horrors, the vileness of Loki's sorcery sickened him; making the reports from the Golden City seems like a fairy tale in contrast. But he could not stop reading them and if there were no new reports of Loki, he would re-read the old, as if to carve every word, every vile image into the depths of his mind so that he would never forget them.
He wanted to know and remember all of Loki's wickedness so that when he ends that monster, he will have the greatest satisfaction. Or so he tells himself.
In his dreams he has killed Loki a thousand times in cold blood and blind fury. In his dreams he has heard Loki scream a thousand times, and see the fear in his eyes. In his dreams he had crush that skull with his bare hands and watch Loki's blood trickled down between his fingers. But not once did he find satisfaction in the act. Rather a pain that almost tore him apart, a pain worst than that of betrayal. A pain that wrenched him from his sleep with tears streaking down his face and sweat drenching his body.
He tosses the pile of paper onto his furs.
Flickering flames in the corner cast a muted light over his narrow tent. Shadows elongated and danced. He took the dripping cloth from the basin to his naked torso, wiping the filth of battle from his sore skin.
The pile of letters from his mother lay unopened beside him. He knew she misses him, he knew she wishes to see him…to hear from him at least. But Thor cold not bring himself to read or write. He is ashamed. He is unworthy.
The small fire at the edge of his tent crackled. He placed the cloth back into the basin and scooted closer along the furs.
He reached into a small leather pouch at his feet and threw the glittering powder into the flames. The golden flames burst and it was at once venom green. The image of Sif flickered in the fire.
"I heard of your victory" Sif's voice whispered.
Thor tried to smile. "Victory in a battle does not win a war"
"Aye"
"Tell me of the situation up North. I have only the old reports"
Sif lowered her gaze, shaking her head.
"Sif…"
"It is not good" She muttered. "Fandral…he lost Eden City and her valleys"
At once Thor stilled, so it has finally happen. The Jotuns had taken over most of Northern towns and villages and several valleys, but never a major city…until now.
"I…we couldn't reach him in time! Laufey! Laufey intercepted us when they were being attacked! We tried! But w-"
"Calm yourself Lady Sif" Thor said quietly, his fingers curled in mounting fury. Not at Sif…no...but at Loki.
When he first heard the report that the Jotuns had attacked in the North and their allies in the East, he had known what Loki had planned. The North and the East, they were Asgard's main supply of food and raw materials. Those many nights Thor had let Loki accompany him in his work room, thinking nothing of it when Loki had looked over the agriculture documents; thinking nothing of it when Loki had looked over their imports.
Loki…Loki…
Everything Loki ever did was for the war. Every bit of information he learn, even the most menial of them all was use for the war.
Loki was going to starve them out if they could not win with brute strength Thor knew; but could do nothing about it. Just like he knew Loki was dangerous and still he could do naught about it when Loki choose to stroll about the Golden palace as if he owned the place. When Loki - Stop! He tells himself fiercely. He needed to stop!
"Are there any survivals?" He asked.
"Most who escape ran into Laufey's troops. Only a handful made it back to us"
"…"
"Forgive me. I should have done more! I -"
"Do not blame yourself" Thor said. "Tell me… are they still moving?"
"Laufey is, but they will go to Eden sooner or later. It would make sense when they start running low on supplies"
"…"
"We will get her back" Sif said. "It won't be easy but we will"
"No"
"Thor. Eden is our biggest agriculture supply! Without her we would starve! We need Eden!"
"…"
"Fandral is still in there!" Sif sounded desperate. "Thor…!"
"Hold your position. If they get pass you, there would at least be a hundred mile before there is another strategic point that will sway to our advantage. We still have the cities down East. It may not be enough, but we will make do" He said firmly.
"Are you surrendering the North?!"
"…"
"This is not you…"
"…"
"Thor!"
"Enough!" Thor bellowed suddenly, startling her. "Your job is to make sure they move no lower than they have is that clear?!"
Silent fell between them. The fire crackled, the coal cracked apart, glowing red.
Thor lowered his gaze, wiping a hand down his tired face. He didn't mean to shout. But he is just so tired, so exhausted and so so angry. Did Sif think any of this was easy on him?! Did Sif think he wanted to leave Fandral?! People are dying every day, and every drop of blood is on his hands.
He gave Loki all that the Jotun needed to know. He made this war possible when he chose to spare Loki's life. And to think he had once considered Loki by his side as his Queen… He was such a fool!
"Report to me immediately when Laufey move to Eden" Thor ordered.
Sif's lips tightened but she argued no more.
"Our priority is to protect those that we can" Thor tells her. "We will not defend the North anymore. Evacuate what lands that have not been taken, take what crops had been grown and the livestock…burn the rest to the ground. The farms, the homes… everything…Then retreat back to your position. If they want the North give them the North for now. Let them be the King of the ashes if they wish"
"As you command my King" She said.
"…"
"We will fight to the last Asgardian blood"
"Aye…" Thor muttered.
No realm would be coming to help Thor knew. In his naivety and anger he had burn all bridges.
In the first wave of attack when the bifrost was destroyed, Asgard's allies have proven to be cravens and selfish bastards.
The Vanir had demanded Asgard to send them home at once. Bjorn will not fight. He will not risk the life of his people over a petty feud between the Aesir and the Jotuns. It was not his fight he roared.
While it was not impossible to travel between realms without the bifrost, a great volume of seid was required. But he had allowed it instead of demanding him to honor the treaty between their realms.
He had commanded the sorceress of Asgard to send them home. He had thought, what right has he to demand foreign warriors to die on a realm not their own.
Then there were the Light Elves. They were magic users, and had no trouble seeing themselves home. One after another, they left until all that was left was the King of Muspelheim who had offered his army in exchange for Thor to wed his daughter. He then, grief-stricken and furious had declined. And that was that.
"Sif…" Thor murmured.
"My King"
"The war is far from over. Do not be hasty. I give you my word, we will take the North back before this is over" With a wave of Thor's hand, the emerald flames return to gold.
The narrow room stunk of sweat, sickness and blood. Shouts and moans of agony filled the room as heavily wounded men were being dragged in, followed by a Jotun soldier who would come shouting for the next champion. Bloodied men with their chest ripped apart, those with their abdomen sliced open and entrails hanging out, those with a crushed skull, those with broken arms and legs…they were all laid around the dirty ground in the room and the dead were piled in a corner.
Fandral realize quickly that their armor isn't going to do a damn good if he was hit. If anything, it was just going to weigh him down and make it hard for him to move.
"Remove my armor" He ordered a man who stood close by him.
"Are you mad?!" The man cried.
"Possibly" Fandral flashed him a grin. "Now help me"
The man did as he was told as Fandral sat on the wooden bench.
Fandral coughed, his chest ached but he ignored it. He rubs his sore hands together in hope of getting feelings back to his numb fingers. His every muscle ached, his legs throbbed and his belly ached with hunger.
Months after months, they who had surrendered their weapons were made to work in the fields; harvesting crops for the Jotuns, and then ploughing the fields anew for the seeds that the Jotun had brought from their realm. They were worked to their bones, worked till they were ready to drop before being ushered into a fenced plot of land to bed down. The fire in the night was nowhere warm enough to put a dent to the cold that bites at their skin and festering wounds, the warm food provided was nowhere enough to fill their bellies.
And after so many months of hunger and exhaustion, a Jotun soldier had come over and told them that whosoever brave enough, could compete in a gladiator fight and that whosoever wins could ask a boon of Prince Loki.
Fandral could see this as a further scheme to demoralize the conquered soldiers, the High Lords and Ladies, the people in general who had surrendered.
How does a man or woman, half starve and exhausted win a one-on-one match against a Jotun warrior?
Jotuns as they all now know, are not so mindless a beast as Aesir warriors use to mock them to be in their cups. But many jump at the chance nevertheless. Perhaps out of desperation, or perhaps they seek to end their misery but having no courage to do so themselves, Fandral did not know, but Fandral had taken the offer because he knew was the best fighter and if anyone stood a chance it was him.
"Done" the man removed the armor, placing it on the ground with a loud clatter.
"Thank you good Ser" Fandral smiled.
"I hear you are one of Asgard's best"
"You flatter me"
"I hope you kill the bastard" The man growled, just as the door burst open with yet another dead man.
"Next!" The Jotun behind shouted.
Fandral pushed himself up and clapped a hand over the man's shoulder.
"Here!" He raised a hand.
The Jotun gave a grunt.
Giving the man a squeeze, Fandral followed guard down a dimly lit tunnel. He was brought over to a wooden table cluttered with a whole range of Asgardian weapon.
"Pick" The Jotun ordered.
Fandral let his fingers touch the handle of a long sword, but he immediately discarded the idea. A long sword may increase the distance between him and his opponent but with the size of an average Jotun, what distance a sword would put between them was pretty much redundant. Spears were no better either.
Then there was the war hammer. It was heavy and large; never his style and only a fool would think of pitting physical strength head first with a Jotun. But from the bloodied handle, it seems that there were a lot of fools before him.
In the end, Fandral pick a clean decent size blade. It was shorter than a sword and lighter.
"Interesting choice" The Jotun commented.
Fandral flash him a smile, picking up a metal shield if only to make himself feel better.
The moment he walked out of the dark tunnel, a massive wall of noise hits him.
A large Jotun was standing on the other side of the arena with a bloodied ice club in his hand. He was bulky and his muscles were large and tone. He had two golden rings pierced over his lower lips and seven on each of his ears. His long brown hair was tied back in a loose stylish braid.
The Jotun smirked.
Fandral lifted up his gaze to the coliseum packed full with Jotuns when a harsh silence falls over the entire place.
"My Lord of Aesir! Welcome!" A loud voice declared.
Fandral saw Loki standing at the front row, garbed in a cloak of raven feathers. His hair was chopped to his shoulder and he wore no jewels or ornaments upon his horns or hair, unlike in those days gone by in the palace. But he wore golden rings on each his fingers and studs on his ears. It was almost a century since Fandral had seen Loki this up close.
"My brethren! Look here before you! The greatest swordsmen of Asgard!" Loki declared.
The crowd snickered and laughed.
Fandral resisted the urge to look down at the pathetic state of his dirty clothes that was really underclothes than actual clothes. He has the Jotuns to thank for that; stripping him out of his armor and giving him nothing more.
Loki smirks, turning to Fandral. "Truly my Lord of Aesir, I fear not even my Lord General could be worthy to be your opponent"
"You flatter me your Grace"
"Merit is given where it is due! So, in honor of someone of your talent, I shall be your opponent!" Loki declared.
At once a rumble of whisper broke out through the entire place. Fandral could hardly believe his ears.
When Loki reached to unclasp his cloak, a hand stopped him.
"Brother no" Helblindi hissed.
Loki turns to him. "You do not think I will win?"
"That is not what I meant and there is not a single soul in this place that doubts your skill or your power" Helblindi said. "Let me take your place instead"
"So you mean to dishonor me?"
Helblindi stilled, then slowly, reluctantly, he retracting his hand. "No brother...I meant you no dishonor. I -"
"Stop it" Loki cuts. "You are my brother who stood by me always. Do not fear me like everyone else"
"..."
"If you wish to go in my stead then go"
Helblindi smiled.
Loki watches Helblindi enter the ring to replace Lord Tyr.
Though Loki had not gone personally, the crowd was wild nevertheless. Cheering and shouting in anticipation and roaring excitement.
He sat back down in his seat as he watches Fandral sized up his brother; weighing the blade in his scabby hand and lifting his metal shield as an ice club bloomed from Helblindi's hand.
"Begin!" Loki bellowed.
The crowd exploded and Helblindi was charging at Fandral, bringing down his club. Fandral leaps out of the way just as the club smashed down.
The crowd cheered.
Fandral barely made it to Helblindi's right when Helblindi swung his club hard again, catching Fandral's shield and smashing it off the Aesir hand with such a brutal force that Fandral was knock cleanly off his feet and thrown half way across the arena.
The crowd roared.
Fandral spat blood; forcing himself up to his feet. Loki did not need to have a clear view to know that Fandral had broken his arm. The force of the last strike would have done it or he would be very surprise.
"Finish him!" "Kill him!" The crowd screams as Helblindi steps calmly towards the Aesir.
And just as Helblindi raised his club for the finishing blow, Fandral did the most unthinkable; he got up and ran.
The crowd roared in laughter.
Helblindi caught him easily and tried to crush him but Fandral darted out of the way, circling left away from the club.
The crowd laughed as Fandral kept running about Helblindi and jerking away from his assaults again and again and again like a pesky little fly.
Loki wasn't laughing. He could tell that Fandral was making Helblindi chase him with that massive ice club, to tire Helblindi most likely. But how long could Fandral keep this up, Loki wonder. One misstep and it would be over; and it could take hours to tire a Jotun.
Helblindi smashed down, missing the Aesir once again.
Loki saw his brother flash him a worried glance as if to see if he was displeased with the entire episode that was quickly turning into a massive joke.
Loki clenched his jaws, his fingers curled. He hated the way Helblindi would look so earnestly for his approval since that night when he had confronted Helblindi and demanded to know why he had ordered the attack on Thrym.
"He would have destroyed our family! He would have ruined us all! He plots for your death! He taints Byleistr and fills his mind with madness! And! And he sullied the bed of our dam and sire! How could I have let him lived?!" Helblindi had cried heatedly then. "And you have always been the brilliant one…surely you know of how he dishonored our family! You have wanted him dead for years too haven't you? That's why you didn't safe him isn't it? I know you could have"
"I could not save him" He had told Helblindi."But if I could, I would not, for what life would he have? He would have been unable to speak, unable to move, to require his every menial needs cared for. No…Cruelty is not in my nature. I will not watch him fall from grace"
"I would have gladly" Helblindi had said without hesitation.
In that instant, he had been so lost for words. So shocked that all he had managed to say was, "Has my brother died in my absence?"
Helblindi had been so horrified at his words that he made no protest when Thrym was laid to rest in the sacred tomb hours later with two vacant spots beside him; one for their dam and the other their sire.
Ever since then, Helblindi has been trying and trying to mend whatever it was that was broken between them, but the truth was that nothing was broken. Loki never meant to be so harsh.
Fear changes a person Loki knew. And he knew that Helblindi, born in the midst of the last war has always been terrified of losing his family. And when Thrym had seem to threatened all that he loves, Helblindi had lashed out and kill him, believing that he was saving his family from crumbling into pieces. Believing that Byleistr will return to being the brother he knows, believing that nothing will now wedge his dam and sire apart and believing that he was saving Loki's life. They were wistful thinking… an illusion of reality that was far more complex than that. But Loki did not tell him so.
A loud shout from the masses jarred Loki back into the present.
Fandral was on the ground again clutching his bleeding side. Helblindi raised his club.
"It's over" Loki straightened up in his seat.
Suddenly with a blink of an eye, Fandral darted forth; slipping pass the massive club of ice, he sliced the tendons at the back of both the Jotun's feet. At once a howl of pain exploded and Helblindi crumpled to the ground.
A shout of terror caught in Loki's throat. And in the next split of the second, he watched in gut wrenching horror as Fandral swung the blade to Helblindi's throat.
But that was where it stops. Fandral did not slice Helbindi's throat open. Simply place the dagger threateningly at his neck.
Helblindi stilled.
A second became two.
"I win!" Fandral declared loudly.
A silence of disbelief hung over the coliseum.
Those azure eyes turn to Loki who had not even realize it until then that he was already on his feet, who did not realize it until then that he was shaking beneath his cloak - not from cold. But from fear…And he hated it. He hated till this day that Iduun's purity had not been burnt out of his veins even when he had relied heavily on dark seid in the battlefield. He despised all those weak sentimental emotions that stir in him; that comes to him unbidden because it makes him weak and strikes him with fear.
"I win!" Fandral said again, this time more forcefully.
Blood flowed down his left arm and side, seeping into his dirty clothes. But still he stood.
All eyes were upon Loki. And in that moment, it was as if the entire world was holding her breath.
Suddenly, Loki laughs, clapping his hands. "As expected from the greatest swordsmen of Asgard!"
More Jotuns entered the ring to help Helblindi.
Fandral waited for Loki to ask his desires when he was suddenly shoved hard by a Jotun guard. Cold bit into his arm. And he was shoved again, almost off his feet.
"What?!" Fandral growled.
"Off you go" The guard said.
"Wait!" Fandral look back at Loki. "What of my favor?!"
"Your favor is your life" Loki said calmly. "Take him away"
"Is this the value of the words spoken by the next King of Jotunheim?!" Fandral roared so loudly that the Jotun guard froze for an instant. "Empty and hollow, carrying no weight?! You gave your words that whosoever wins in the arena could ask a boon of you! I won and you tell me my reward is my life and send me away?! Is honor dead in the realm of ice?!" He lifted his eyes to the crowd. "Is this the weight of the promise of Jotun Kings?!"
Loki was unmoving and if looks could kill, Fandral would be dead. But Fandral did not care.
"We've laid down our arms! We've sworn to serve in exchange for life!" He reminded them. "So give us better shelter! Better food! Warmer clothes and medicine so that we do not die! Let us live! That is all I ask!"
"Yes" Loki said coldly. "Whosoever wins, were my words. But in Jotunheim, victory is declared when your opponent is fatally wounded or dead! I see you have dealt neither to my brother! If you want your boon, then finish him!"
Murmurs broke through the crowd.
"You ask me to kill your brother?" Fandral said in disbelief.
"Should it matter who he is to me?" Loki asked. "He is just a Jotun to you"
Fandral saw that the Jotuns that had come to help his opponent back away, allowing him his victory.
"What is wrong with you people?! Is the younger prince worth nothing to you?!" Fandral thought fiercely as he turns back to his fallen opponent and lifted his blade to his opponent's neck.
The Jotun did not resist, resign to the fate Loki declared upon him.
Fandral wanted suddenly to snap at him: Why are you so compliant?! Pick up your weapon! Fight me!
But the Jotun did not. Those scarlet eyes held his cerulean ones without fear or anger.
Complete loyalty Fandral realized.
A heartbeat became two…
Fandral couldn't do it. He couldn't kill an unarmed opponent who has for all intent and purpose surrendered. Clenching his jaws, Fandral threw his blade down.
"Indeed…you are a man of honor" Loki said.
The gentle breeze caresses over Baldur's wavy golden locks as he sat at the edge of the city wall. The sky was red and gold, like burning flames, as the sun gradually vanish behind the misty mountains. But there too was a certain coldness to the air, a certain bite that hinted of an eternal winter that is slowly creeping in on them.
The Jotuns are still far up the North they tell him, but Baldur knew better than to believe words told to him just because they were adults.
The tap of boots came closer. Baldur turned, beaming when he saw Heimdall standing by his side.
"Here again I see, young prince" Heimdall said.
"Aye"
"I have informed the Queen of your being here"
"How is my brother?" Baldur asked, looking at the setting sun.
"He is in pain still…but he is strong"
Baldur nodded, swinging his legs off the edge.
For a long time he hated his brother despite all that he still loves him. And he found that it was possible to love someone and hate them with the same measure all at once. For a long time he blamed Thor. He thought for a long time that if Thor had picked Loki as his consort, none of this would happen. He remembered that his naïve mind hated all those people who mock Loki and he believe it was their fault. They made Loki angry!
Then as time passed, he started loathing the Jotuns as everyone around him did instead. He blamed them for everything. He prayed every night to the Norns to kill them all. He cursed them all!
He hated them the more as he saw dead warriors being charted back. He despised them the more as he watched widows wailed in aguish at their dead husbands, as he saw his people starve in the streets. As he saw plague devourer the now overcrowded city. And as he saw children gnawing at the bones of rats in hunger.
His tutors too taught him to hate those Jotun monsters.
He remembered his excitement when he heard that the warriors had taken captives of a small band of Jotun who had surrendered in the last battle. There was a violent crowd that day when the Jotuns were brought back. He remembered climbing one of the titan stone statues just to get a look at those monsters as they were paraded to the screaming crowd that hurled stones and bricks at them.
He had felt uncomfortable at the sight but his mind told him that they deserve it.
Then that night he snuck down into the dungeons. Why he did it, he did not know. Perhaps he wanted to scream at them, perhaps he wanted to curse them, perhaps he wanted to demand answers from those monsters, he did not know, but he snuck down. And what he saw was something no one should ever be made to see.
He remembered that it was dank and it was loud. Screams of anguished echoed and shook the walls. The rattles of chains were deafening, the scent of burning flesh and blood was sickening. His body was frozen solid in the little corner he hid as he watched the Aesir warriors torture the defeated Jotuns.
He shuts his eyes and tried to shut out the screaming, but they were so loud. So damnable loud!
Tears streak down his little face and he did not know how long he was there, but he did not dare move until all had gone silent and the Jotuns were either dead or unconscious in their bloodied chains. And then he ran as fast as he could up the stony steps. For days, the screams would not leave him. The memory would not leave him, until he could take no more.
He went then to Heimdall. That way he did not need to explain what he saw. The thought alone was enough to make him throw up.
"Why?!" He had screamed at Heimdall.
Why what? Why didn't Heimdall alert anyone to his presence? Why did the Aesir torture their prisoners? Why did everything happen? He didn't even know what he was asking.
But he returns regularly, asking Heimdall this and that.
"How is Loki?" Baldur asked.
"He hides from my gaze still young prince"
"Then he lives"
"Aye"
"Why do men go to war?" Baldur turns his cerulean eyes to Heimdall. "The people say it's because the Jotuns are monsters and they seek only to destroy"
"But you do not believe them young prince?"
Baldur shrugged. "I've seen so call monsters in their moments of kindness and gentleness that are no different from us. And I've seen honorable men in their moments of brutality and cruelty beyond believe"
"…"
"How do you judge whether one is a monster or not? Do you judge them from that one moment when they are at their worst? Do you judge them from that one defining moment when they give in to their sorrows, anger and anguish even if on all the other days they are good and honorable men?"
"…"
"There are no monsters Heimdall"
"You think beyond your age" Heimdall commented.
Baldur was barely five hundred and still very much a child. But the things he would say are not the words of a child.
"Tell me a story gatekeeper. Tell me why men go to war"
"Pain is a gift my Lord of Aesir" Helblindi said when Fandral cursed at the rough gloved hands of the Jotun healer that bandage his broken arm. "It means you are still alive"
Fandral flashed the younger prince a glare.
Helblindi smile, from his fur bed on the skin covered floor. "Anger is good. It keeps a man going"
Fandral said nothing.
Truth, when he was called away from the others during dinner, he had been worried. Loki was well known even among the Jotuns for his temper and after that winning in the arena, something he was sure was not suppose to happen, he feared Loki's retribution. But all that had happened was that he was cleaned, shaved and given a fresh set of dull woolen clothes.
And then he was showed into one of the thousands of skin covered, Jotun tents. Aesir homes were too low and small for them after all.
Then lo and behold, there was the devil waiting for him with the Jotun he had injured in the arena.
"This is Helblindi" Loki had the gulls to introduce. "You will be tending to him until I can completely heal him. And while you care for him, you can stay here, you will have better food, you will have warmer clothes and if you are sick you will be cared for"
Fandral had snapped then. He didn't ask these things for himself. He did not want these things for himself! But Loki would hear none of it and promptly left them alone.
Helblindi had then decided to get a healer for him.
"My prince" The healer's deep voice rumbled. "It is done"
Helblindi dismisses the healer with a wave of his hand.
Fandral stood to his feet angrily as he watches Helblindi flip the tome on his lap.
"I did not ask for this" Fandral gritted.
"I did not ask for you to tend to me either" Helblindi said casually.
"Then send me away"
"Wiser men know not to upset my brother. He has a temper"
Fandral snorted. "Oh trust me, the whole of Asgard knows it"
Helblindi flashed him a glare but Fandral did not care.
"Have a care of how you speak of my brother" Helblindi warned.
"Ah yes…you love your brother"
"…"
"You should be careful with loving him too freely" Fandral said nastily. "Your dear brother will take your love and burn it to the ground. Mark my words"
Helblindi frowned; closing his large tome he place it beside him.
"I tire of this conversation" He muttered. "Bring my draught. I will rest now"
"Yes sir" Fandral gritted.
He tiptoed at the wooden table, reaching for the large bowl of draught. He carried the wooden bowl against his sore body to the prince, spilling it a little but Helblindi did not comment on it.
"You can call me Helblindi. I don't like formalities" Was all the prince said before downing the bowl.
Fandral notice that the younger prince did not finish it when he placed it next to his bed.
"Get rid of the fire and get some sleep" Helblindi unbuckled the straps of his golden vambrance and place them beside him too, followed by the silver rings on each of his fingers. "You may have some draught for your arm if you wish. It should help with the pain"
Fandral blink, taken aback. The Jotun was offering to relieve his pain?
Helblindi smile at his surprise.
"What's the matter? Am I not meeting the expectation of the monster you Aesir tell your children of at night?" He teased.
"Uh…"
Helblindi pushes the bowl closer to Fandral.
"Do not be so surprise that the monster of your children's nightmares could be capable of sympathy. I do not kill those before me in the battlefield because I enjoy killing or that I hate you Aesir…I kill because I love those who are behind me…are we so very different my Lord of Aesir?
"…"
"Why did you spare me?"
"…"
Helblindi heaved a sigh at the silence.
"Well, good night" He pulls the cover higher up his abdomen and shifted to lay down on his front; wincing slightly at the pain in his legs.
And just like that the Jotun prince shuts his eyes.
Fandral stared at him and that was all he could do when he took a mouthful of that draught.
In the dim crackling light, the three silver rings decorated each of the prince's ears glint, and as Fandral stood to his feet, he let his eyes graze the patterns carved into the prince's pale cerulean back and clean shaven head. Helblindi was bulkier than Loki as was to be expected, though he was still on the leaner side when compared to most of the Jotuns Fandral had seen. Then there was the familiar high cheek bones and narrow aristocratic nose that was identical to Loki or rather Laufey, and his horns were curve towards the side to frame his head. Fandral decided that while there are enough similarities in features to say that Helblindi is Loki's brother; that is where the similarity ends.
"You done staring?" Helblindi spoke suddenly startling Fandral.
"Sorry" Fandral hurriedly puts out the fire at the corner of the tent.
He looked around in the darkness, and decided to settle crawling beneath a pile of fur he had noticed earlier. For the first time in months, he felt warm. He was about to drift off when Helblindi spoke.
"I have no illusion of my brother, my Lord of Aesir. But that doesn't mean it is not worth to love him"
Within the hour of Laufey entering the city, he learn of Helblindi's injury. And to say that he was displeased was an understatement. Laufey was ready to scream at Helblindi and Loki if not for the fact that they were separated from his entire army by only the skin of their tents. It will not do to have their entire troop listen in on their princes being chastised. So all Laufey could do was seethe and glare at Fandral.
Fandral wish Laufey would leave soon but as fate would have it, since Helblindi could not walk, Laufey decided to have a 'family reunion dinner' in Helblindi's tent.
The third prince Fandral noted at once, though he has more muscles than his brothers, he is exceedingly beautiful, even by Aesir standard. Gems and golden threads weaved magnificently into his wavy bone pale hair that frames his face and reach over his shoulders. Translucent red eyes that burn as if it held all the stars in the universe within its wondrous depths. Pale cerulean skin, narrow aristocratic nose like his dam but with a certain softness to his features that Fandral took must have been taken from the Queen of Jotunheim.
Beauty beyond measure...
If Loki was Keres, then the third prince was Adonis.
"About time you took this place" Byleistr said to Loki.
"At least I took a city" Loki took a bite of his apple.
"What does that suppose to mean?"
"I still wonder till this day whether the fishermen or the farmers gave you a better fight"
A snicker almost escape Fandral's lips but he covered it with a cough. He was not fooling Laufey but thankfully Byleistr did not seem to notice.
"I was not defeated by villages my dearest brother" Byleistr said politely enough to be insulting "The Aesir armies came within the hour, perhaps you did not recall. But don't worry about it. It was half a century ago, wouldn't want to strain that little brain of yours"
"Still if my little brain serves me right, that was the worst beating I have heard of since…well that beating really" Loki smile his little smile again.
Fandral could guess that bickering was the norm in the Jotun King's everyday life as he watch Laufey take his time with his meat without a care.
"Um…more wine?" He ask the King when he noticed that Laufey's goblet was almost empty.
Laufey flash him a glare. Then he snatched the jug from him, poured it himself and shoved it back.
Well then…
"At least I command! Unlike him!" Byleistr pointed at Helblindi. The third prince was starting to shout now. "All he does is stick with you!"
"How is this about me?" Helblindi ask incredulously.
"It isn't!" Byleistr and Loki snapped in unison.
"Fine then!"
"And you should be thanking me on bended knees that I intercepted the backups! Or you wouldn't even have this to show for!" Byleistr spat at Loki.
"It wasn't you. It was dam" Helblindi pointed.
"I was with him!"
At some point between the shouting, Laufey finished his dinner and cleared his throat, silencing his children.
"Well, that was a peaceful dinner" Laufey wipes his hand on a cloth.
"He started it…" Byleistr mumbled.
"Such a child" Loki said. "Perhaps it would be best if you return to Jotunheim to accompany sire and the baby"
"Will you stop!" Byleistr snapped.
"Forgive me" Loki smile. "It was just a bit of fun"
"Loki" Laufey sighs. "How long before your brother is healed?"
"Give another week or two"
"Then we move in four" Laufey decided "The North is ours. The Aesir has abandoned it"
"Their armies are just over the forest, about forty miles from here" Loki said. "They have the advantage in position"
"But we have the bigger army. Half of theirs are in the West"
"Aye"
"Oh. One more thing. I need you three to listen very closely" Laufey said gravely.
"Um is this wise?" Helblindi motioned at Fandral.
"He can stay for this" Laufey said.
Well this is interesting, Fandral reflected.
"Listen carefully. If a great conqueror needs to shout his achievements from the top of the mountain, then he is no great conqueror at all" He smiled pleasantly at them.
It took a second for the words to sink in. Loki and Byleistr burn with shame.
"Don't you agree?" Laufey looked suddenly at Fandral. "Lord Commander"
The coldness creeps ever closer, an ominous shadow hung over the forest beneath. Thor stood at the edge of the small hill, surveying the lower land covered in a veil of icy mist. Rows of torches flickered wildly behind him as the ruthless wind tore through the night, clawing at his skin.
Soldiers shouted and called. Scorching oils were being prepared. Spears and swords were being sharpened. Bows and arrows made anew.
"They are hiding in the forest" Sif came up to stand beside him. "But they'll come eventually and we will be ready"
"Any news from the scouts we send?"
"Nay" Sif sighs. "Those are no ordinary mist"
"It is lace with dark seid" Thor knew.
"Aye"
"Double the guards. He is here"
"As you command" Sif said, but she did not move. Her eyes never left her King.
While to the world Thor is unmoving and unyielding; unbowed, unbend, unbroken, strong as the rock and fierce as the hurricane, Sif knew the truth. Thor is more than just a God and King, he is man… he feels pain, he feels shame and he feels alone. He is more than flesh and bones; he feels guilt, he feels anger and he feels fear.
Sif reach out to touch Thor's arm, her thumb stroked once over the hardness of his muscle.
Cerulean meets hazel.
"You are not alone" She tells him.
"…"
"I will never leave you"
"I know" Thor lids his hand over the side of Sif's neck. "But I wish you would not be so brave. I wish you were not here. He is dangerous. And he is down there"
The sudden commotion behind them caught their attention. They broke apart.
"My King! My Lady!" A soldier came dashing towards them.
"What is it?" Sif ask urgently. "Are they here?!"
"No my Lady! No!" The man panted; and then he was laughing. "It's Ser Fandral! He escaped! He is back! He is back!"