Gavri'el admitted if only to himself, that he had been worried about taking Loptr as a vessel, especially when the jötun simply vacated his avatar as the archangel entered it. The archangel knew that he shouldn't have expected the dark being to remain like human souls did once consenting, after all Loptr was more than a mere human soul.
The power he felt just brushing against the dark being's essence rivaled the First Beasts, and Gavri'el was certain that it was only a hint of Loptr's true power. He dearly hoped he had not made a mistake. There was no sinister motive as far as he could sense, and the avatar was the most comfortable vessel that he could ever remember using.
The construct of seiðr settled over the archangel smoothly, sliding like oil against his grace and settling tightly, like a second skin. At first it seemed to want to restrict him, constricting uncomfortable around his wings and pinching at his grace. Before the young archangel could panic the seiðr, with a petulant whisper subsided.
Looking out with new eyes, Gavri'el could see the Dark One, no Loptr as he now called himself a vaguely falcon shaped mass of seiðr and essence. A bright light of cascading colors, glowing in a different light than an angel would, but no less radiant or large.
Besides his hot and cold aura, the bright amber colored eyes were the only similarities to his previous form draped in darkness. As curious as he was, the archangel surmised it would be inappropriate to ask, and detrimental to his wellbeing.
Gavri'el did not pretend to understand the swift change in personas that Loptr went through, or the exact significance. Angels did not evolve that quickly if at all. Most begun as the celestial waves of intent that they all were when created by Father. It was in the recent millennia's that angels as a whole started to gain more defining features besides wings.
Despite never being said, it was a common belief that there was no need to evolve because they were Father's greatest creations. When you were already created perfect why change?
Obviously angels were neither the brightest or favored of their Father when humans were added to the equation. Gavri'el had mixed feelings about them.
While he loved his Father and would do anything for Him, the youngest archangel had difficulty putting a small fragment of His brilliance, a soul above Him no matter how beautiful they were, compared to Father, they were outshone.
He tried anyway and while not fond of the little beings, he Gavri'el did not hold the same distain for them that Hêlêl did. Any dislike towards the small beings paled in comparison to the Morning Star's burning fury.
Loptr's avatar despite the uncomfortableness at first, was the best vessel that Gavri'el could have gotten, and more than anything the youngest archangel could have hoped for. The seiðr concealed his grace better than any warding, and could not be unraveled by any being not on the same level or above Loptr.
The only ones that came to mind were his Father, and Death, and neither seemed to be inclined to grace Gavri'el with their presence, or feel the need to expose him, so the archangel seemed to be set.
It was odd being out of tune with the rest of the Host, and beyond the dark whispering from Loptr's seiðr, Gavri'el was alone for the first time in his life.
The archangel lingered for a few days around Yggdrasil before returning to earth when it was clear that the dark creatures that now ruled the world tree were weary of his presence, despite Loptr's paying him little mind. Being able to wander freely on Earth without restrictions or scrutiny from his siblings was gratifying.
Gavri'el hated being confined in one place, and while in heaven, his unsated wanderlust had always plagued him. No matter how much he missed home, the Messenger couldn't deny that being able to roam unimpeded brought out a side of him that few ever saw hints of.
Which was probably what led to him to his current situation, held by slender finger curled with deceptive casualness around his vessel's slim shoulders, Loptr's amber eyes boring into his, peering at the archangel hiding within the being's former avatar with an intensity that was to say uncomfortable. It became even more so as those orbs gained a distinct blue tinge that for some reason sounded alarm bells in the archangels mind.
The mild calm expression on his face did not match Loptr's distorting avatar, skin bubbling steaming, cracking, and outright burning or falling off in places. Looking past the dark being's avatar, Gavri'el couldn't even begin to describe the horror barely contained within. Sharp fanged maws and forked tongues, burning eyes and spiraling flames reflecting off blades of ice.
"Móðir, peace."
The change was immediate. As if a shutter had snapped shut, Loptr's grip which had been steadily tightening loosened. Black nailed fingers idly tapping the archangel's collar in an agitated movement, then fell limply to the flame haired being's side. Though those molten amber eyes continued to regard him, his essence had settled to a mildly churning chaotic mass Gavri'el concluded was as close to calm as Loptr ever got.
Sighing the youngest archangel restrained the urge to lean away from the dark being, well aware that such an act may set Loptr off. Golden honey eyes peering at the one who may have very well saved his life to see a tall broad-shouldered grey haired man with inhuman solid coal black eyes and ashen skin.
Thick well-muscled forearms were loosely crossed, a large head cocked to the side and thick brows raised expectantly. Surprisingly Loptr twitched, essence vaguely resembling a ruffled avian.
The dark being with the petulance of a guilty child shuffled his feet, amber slits focused vaguely in the archangel's direction. Gavri'el saw only regret in them, the furious anger from before submerged beneath a sea of other conflicting emotions. Turning away a dark look was sent at the frozen patrons.
"Depart." It was a mere entire building was empty in less than a minute, leaving only Gavri'el, Loptr, and the grey haired newcomer in the once bustling tavern. The flame haired being shook himself, amber eyes with the fading blue hint glazed but steadily clearing.
"I don't know why that upset me so much."
Gavri'el's eyes darted to the grey haired man who had snorted at that statement, Loptr who was glowering at said man crossed his arms in an almost defensive gesture. Without any heat behind it, the look was rather pitiful expression that did little to cow him. The youngest archangel gave the faintest of incredulous looks.
"I impersonated you, and joined the pagans on Earth, taking your name without your consent." Gavri'el was rather upset and confused with himself for behaving as such, that type of behavior wasn't like him. Loptr hummed glancing at Gavri'el. Amber eyes narrowed as his head tilted from side to side
"No, really it is I should apologize," and didn't he look put out by that admission. "…I renounced my claim to the name Loki and my avatar to you, it was my windfall to you for the service to me."
Slender fingers pulled at a small goatee, once again amber eyes closed against the archangel's stare. "It would be foolish to expect my seiðr to have no effects on your grace, and through it your state of mind. That avatar is infused with much of my seiðr. Separating from it has affected my own state of mind, that and other factors…"
Gavri'el was obviously unsettled by the ominous statement, if the frown creasing the grey haired male's face was anything to go by, he was as well. The archangel didn't get the chance to question Loptr though, the dark being waving a hand as if to ward off any concern, walking past the archangel to get to the bar, grabbing one of the abandoned bottles left on to table.
"It is not yet a problem for the moment, no need to concern yourselves just yet, if at all." Giving a dubious glance at the red liquid with bright blue flames burning on the surface, the being shrugged, idly sipping it. "Once again, I hope that you over look my misstep dove. I have no say in what you chose to do with my former vessel, I am no longer Loki of Asgard and till you relinquish that name and your vessel to me, I will never be again. For all intents and purposes, you are Loki as much as you are Gavri'el, do what you feel appropriate. The affairs of your Father's little marble have yet to concern me, until they do..."
Shrugging Loptr gestured lazily with his unoccupied hand, and a wave of power swept over the archangel. It was dark and coiling, sickly sweet like nectar and bitter ale. It stung like embers and choked like smoke. It was to say very unpleasant, despite lasting for only an instant.
In that brief moment bathed in Loptr's power before finding himself in a field back on earth, and also startling a herd of deer, Gavi'el wondering not for the first time, what kind of being had the power to bind something like Loptr that was not his Father?
"Well that was rude Móðir."
"By the Nine Sleipnir."Shaking his head Loptr stared stubbornly at the wall. "I fail to see the need to converse over my manner, or lack thereof."
That dark knowing stare that he knew that Sleipnir was giving him was not one he was willing to meet at the moment, not when his emotions were still a mess. Or the possibilities of what his eldest son thought that he knew. Pathetic weak puny human body.
If not for the complications of constructing a respectable stable avatar without restricting or limiting his power, and the necessary workings to integrate himself into it, Loptr would not have bothered possess one.
He couldn't bring himself to regret it though humans were an easy convenient readymade avatar to occupy. If not for Gavri'el Loptr doubted he would have even thought of using one. Using a human as a vessel was a good way to contain your essence if you were one of the more powerful jötnar with little effort and as a plus navigate without crushing everything around you.
The only down side is that they were so damn fragile, over a century since he took one and Loptr still had trouble with workings using his own power and had to rely on seiðr prepared beforehand for his workings, unless he wanted his body to start complaining from the strain.
Focusing his attention on his first born, Loptr sighed. "What has led you here to seek my presence?" Sleipnir shifted on his feet in a manner reminiscent of his true form.
"We worry for you Móðir." Brows raised, Loptr stared unblinkingly, pointedly taking a sip as he reclined against the bar, the perfect picture of relaxed and at ease. Nostrils flared in irritation the coal eyes narrowed. "…Hela wished for me to inform you that the elves and fey of Alfheim and Ljosalfheim have made their report."
"Oh? Good news I hope?" With false nonchalance that did little to hide his pleasure Loptr crossed the room in a few quick strides, drink immediately forgotten. Sleipnir was grinning, white impossibly square teeth revealed standing out against pink gums and pallid skin.
"The Bilröst is restored and fully operational Móðir"
Gavri'el joins the pagans on earth, Loptr is torn, Sleipnir is introduced and brings good news.
This chapter was amazingly difficult to get out even though I had a fairly clear idea of what it would be about. For those that actually enjoy reading Praeternatural, there is a very low chance of me discontinuing it all together. I'm not going to even bother stick to the writing schedule that I had in mind, so updates may come every week, every other week, or once a month. Depends on when I muster the motivation to get around to it. Feed back is nice but unexpected. Favs and Follows are pleasant and Views are great.