A/N: Oh my, I packed a lot into this one. Shifting POVs and head canon galore! I hope it all makes some bit of sense. I also wonder whose side I'm on about the issue of lying by omission when good intentions are the motivator. Eir and Loki both have a strong argument...

Class would be held outside, Loki insisted, for magic was not a subject to be enclosed by four walls. The courtyard was ideal. It was the perfect blend of influences, from the bas relief-wrapped columns—a reminder of the greats who mastered the art long ago—to Glasir's expansive views, which should stand as a symbol to the mind's expansive capabilities. The only downside to being outside—at least for beings born in the eternal winter of Jotunheim—was the sun. Curse the ancients for making the sun so hot! By the time the students had all congregated and claimed their seat on a bench, Loki had given up on making an impression with his princely garb and abandoned the heavy cape and long jerkin to a royal heap on the ground.

He paced in front of the dozen or so pairs of curious eyes, rolling up his linen sleeves to the elbow. Scanning each and every student, he took note of how the girls ranged in age from just shy of a decade to mid-teens. Ollerus fit right in age-wise but stood out like the blue-skinned boy he was among his peers of browns and beiges. Fortunately he didn't seem bothered by this, having grown accustomed over the years. Loki smiled when his eyes met his son's, which were beaming at him from the back row. The lessens hadn't even started yet but he could already feel the pride welling in him. Ollerus was such a gifted lad. Loki could only wonder what marvels magic would unlock in this child.

"I see you all have your history books," Loki began and several students raised theirs up proudly. "Let me see that," he said to girl in the front row and she handed him her book.

"This book here," he held it up for everyone to see. "It's rubbish. Nothing but pompous drivel." Stillness fell upon the class and the books that were eagerly held up slowly began sinking. "These pages would serve better as goat food then as an education."

"But Father," Ollerus spoke up without hesitation. "It's the history of magic. I thought you liked history."

"I love history," Loki replied lightly. "But magic's history is irrelevant to the process of learning it. You see, documenting the history of an entity such as magic is like describing the history of energy, or of love. It's a waste of time. We all know it exists and that it's always existed. It has no birth, death or timeline. It just is. All these books do is tell the stories of those who have used magic in the past. It does nothing but offer preconceived limitations on how it is to be used, which is insult to the craft. The best way to learn magic is to get your hands dirty, or more appropriately, your minds."

Some of the girls giggled. Loki continued.

"Magic will reveal its secrets to you in time as you work with it. Like any craft, you learn by doing. And the more time I spend up here blathering about, the less time you have of learning it. So, let us not dilly about." He cracked open the very book he had just lambasted. "Open your books. Any page will do."

"But," said the girl sitting next to Ollerus. "I thought we were feeding it to the goats."

"Not before we get at least some use out of it," Loki said, checking to see that everyone had their book open. "Have you all found a page? Good, now tear it out." He demonstrated, ripping out a page. He's met only with blank stares. "Am I speaking Vanir? Tear out a page." Ollerus is the first to do it. Then the girl next to him, then another then another until the air filled with the sound of literary destruction.

"Now," Loki instructed, "wrinkle it up." He wadded up his page and everyone followed suit, exchanging glances with each other like they were getting away with something. "Put it in your mouth, and chew, like so." Loki stuck the paper in his mouth without shame and began chewing. The class did nothing of the sort. Some girls giggled and some just stared. Even Ollerus was scratching his head. "Come on," Loki urged with muffled speech and a bulging cheek, "pretend you're a goat."

Ollerus was the first to do it again and slowly the girls, with knitted brows and crinkled noses, relented to follow.

"Okay, good," Loki nodded in approval. "Everyone's chewing, chewing, chewi— no, don't swallow it, you silly girl." A student in the middle turned beet red. "For the love of," Loki shook his head. "Tear out another page and try again, without ingesting it."

"What's the point of this?" blurted the eldest girl through her cheekfull.

"Patience my dear," Loki smirked. "One cannot rush their first lesson in magic."

The class began making faces of displeasure as they chewed, looking to each other for reassurance and finding only the same confusion and reluctance.

"Prince Loki, sir!" The older girl spoke up again. "The ink is starting to taste gross and it's turning our mouths black." The rest of the class made noises of similar protest yet keep on chewing.

"That's because your taking too long," Loki said, snatching a wooden bucket off the ground and approaching each student with it. "Go on, spit it out and try again with a fresh piece. If you aren't achieving a desirable outcome, then you're doing it wrong."

"What desirable outcome?" asked the girl who swallowed her first page. "Are we learning how to make paper taste like candy?"

"If I tell you," Loki replied, setting down the bucket, "then you will have learned nothing."

"This is stupid!" barked the eldest girl, shooting up from her seat. "I'm not going to keep eating my text book. This is nothing more than a trick! You all know he's called God of Mischief don't you?"

Loki laughed, clasping his hands behind his back. "Congratulations, my dear. You have passed your first test. What is your name?"

"Um," the girl blinked, softening her voice. "Ingrid?"

"Well done, Ingrid." Loki then addressed the rest of the class. "Look to the eldest, class. Let her be an example. She took a stand against me. Made a judgement call based solely on her instincts. The rest of you trusted me, against your better judgement. You know paper is not food, yet you still ate it. Why?"

"Because you told us to," shrugged a younger girl.

"I thought you were teaching us to transmute food," Ollerus defended, wiping ink from his mouth.

"Transmutation is advanced alchemy," Loki explained. "You won't be able to learn that, or any sort of transfiguration for years."

"So this was this all a trick to make us look like a heard of dumb goats?" Ollerus said.

"It was indeed," Loki said. "But it was also a lesson of listening to your body. Your inner voice is your strongest guide, not only in magic but in everything. Your body, literally your gut in this case, was saying via the foulness upon your tongue, that it did not desire ink and paper."

"Well then why do we need teachers if our bodies will tell us everything?" Ingrid sassed more then she questioned.

"Because you need to be taught how to listen," Loki said, pointing to his ear. "Which is why the first and most important lesson in magic, is the art of meditation. Your homework is to go to a place you find most peaceful, alone, and do nothing but breath. Think only about your breath. Do this as long it takes until it is no longer is boring. Then, will you truly understand what your doing." He paused for dramatic effect. "You are dismissed. Feeding your book to the goats is optional, just promise me you won't read a word in it until after you've properly meditated."

"Breathing?" Ollerus whined over the din of fleeing students. "Really?"

Loki approached him. "It's about focus, my son. The power of mind over matter. No sorcerer ever wielded Light magic without mediation. Go to your favorite place of solitude. Not somewhere that will distract with its sporting prospects, but one of calm, of minimalism, and just be. Sit, stand, hang like a monkey from a tree. Whatever, so long as your mind is focused on the singularity of breath."

"Fine," the boy sighed. "If you say so."

Dusk cast its warm hues over the stables, painting vibrant peach stripes across the white wings of the steeds inside, and on the shield maiden who attended to them.

"I listened in on your class today," Sif confessed as she picked twigs and leaves out of Fylla's mane.

"Am I supposed to be surprised?" said a lazing prince from his elevated seat at the edge of a stall. "You believed yourself hidden behind a column but I knew you were there. Columns do not sneeze."

Sif rolled her eyes. "I suppose I should be grateful then that you didn't blow my cover to Ollerus. He wouldn't approve of Mother spying on him."

"Mmhmm," Loki turned his gaze from the fiery ball of sunset. "You're welcome."

Sif met his gaze, the orange rays bringing out the warm tones in her eyes. "You surprise me, Loki. Meditation is the last lesson I thought you would be teaching."

"It is essential in learning magic."

"Then why have I never seen you do it?"

Loki broke their gaze, turning his head back toward the sun. He had to shield his eyes. "I don't need to. I draw my strength from other sources."

"I don't believe that." Sif snatched a brush from a nearby shelf and went to work on Fylla's tangles. "Eir still meditates regularly. It's not a practice for beginners alone."

"It is not necessary for those who wield dark magic."

Sif paused her brushing. "What- What do you mean?"

With a simple hand gesture, Loki levitated a berry out of a nearby bucket and transformed it into burgundy-colored butterfly. "Dark magic can accomplish nearly everything its counterpart can, so long as it's used properly." The butterfly flitted by each steed, leaving a trail of shimmering green dust, causing the animals to snort and stomp in agitation. "Of course creatures born of pure Light, such as the Pegasus, are not so easy to fool."

Sif had to stroke Fylla's nose to calm her down. "But...why use dark at all?"

Loki dropped down from his seat, out of sight for moment before he appeared at the front of a stall. "Because I have to." He leaned against a wooden post, his face falling into a somber shadow. "I find comfort in it. It is the one connection I have left to my cursed children."

Fylla was still nervous so Sif gave her one final stroke then urged Loki away from the stables. They walked together toward the river. "Dark magic is what deformed them," Sif said, looking on Loki with concern. "Aren't you afraid that your body will—

"There is no harm magic can do to my body that it hasn't already done." Loki's tone grew darker, matching the shadows slowly creeping across the wild grasses. "From the day I was born, I was cursed. And then Odin came along and made it worse."

Sif shook her head. "You're wrong. Odin saved you."

It took all of Loki's will to keep his anger under control. "Do you truly want to know why I use dark magic? Because it is all I know. It is what Frigga taught me. It is what Odin used to alter me. And it is what has spared my life, multiple times, since I was cast out of Asgard. It is the one consistency I can rely upon."

Sif sighed, not out of pity but of weariness. "No it isn't." She then closed their distance and slid her hands over his shoulders. It was time for a lighter topic. "Have you ever tried using Light magic?"

Her touch helped him relax. "I tried once as a boy." He spoke softly but there was still that edge. "It hurt. It felt like it was boiling my blood. At the time I didn't understand but I cared not do it again. I was content with what Mother was teaching me."

"Could Odin's spell have been interfering with it?"

His neck tensed again. "Yes, probably."

"So why don't you try again?" Sif tried to massage the tension away. "Now that you know who you are."

Loki sighed. "I did, shortly after learning I was Jotun. I submerged myself into icy waters, suppressing Odin's spell as much as possible, and the same thing happened. Only this time the pain was worse. Again, I didn't understand. Jotun wizards can wield both Light and dark. There was no explanation."

"Then why don't you try again?" Sif repeated, edging up her tone. "Now that you know who you are."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "What makes you so certain that I do know?"

"What more do you need to know beyond what's in front of you?" She brushed her fingers over his cheek. "You are a father. A son. A prince." She then kissed him, briefly but sweetly. "And a lover."

Loki allowed himself only a moment to relish the taste of her. "A lover..." His voice then hardened. "Tell me, Sif. Why do you love me? What is it exactly that you love about me? If I wasn't father to your child or the son of royalty, what would be left to love?"

Sif beheld him with injury. "How can you ask such a thing?"

"I sent the destroyer to kill you. I am a war criminal in multiple realms. There are things I have done that should have my blood spilled upon your blade, crimes you don't even know about." He took a step back, pulling out of her hold. "I betray everyone who has ever been close to me. Which means you betray everything honorable you stand for by claiming to love me."

Sif shook her head. "This disproves nothing of what I feel for you." She stood tall despite the hurt threatening her resolve. "It only goes to show how little you understand of love. Perhaps that is why you're unable to learn the ways of Light."

She left him there by the river, disheartened but not angry, saying nothing more for the rest of the night. She left her bedroom door cracked but he never came to her. She doubted he even slept.

Loki barely made it to class on time.

"Who are you?" he asked upon entering to an older girl standing at the front of the class. She hadn't been there yesterday.

"That's Svala," Ollerus said from his same seat in the back. He had a cheekfull of berries that were turning his lips a bright red. "She's the one who transported us to the mountains."

"Is that so?" Loki droned. "Well done. You have achieved what few other have been capable of." Transporting spells were limited to only advanced users of Light. Loki didn't want to admit that he envied her.

"Thank you," Svala nodded.

"Now leave us," Loki said with a shooing gesture. "You are clearly too advanced for this class."

"She's the student teacher," Ingrid interjected. "Duh."

"Fine. Stay." Loki sighed in exasperation. "But take a seat."

Svala did as she was told but not without a sneer. Elder Eir would never treat her with such disregard.

"Shall we begin?" Loki addressed the class absently, his voice tired. "Going down the line, front to back, left to right, tell me what each of your learned from your meditations."

The students shared their experiences in the order requested, the younger ones speaking up first as they tended to gather in the front rows. Their reports were dripping in innocent wonder, recalling how they heard bird songs they never heard before or saw new colors in butterfly wings. As the older girls spoke up, the topics became slightly more pertinent but still not what Loki was looking for. One girl claimed she made a chronic allergy go away and another found the will to forgive a friend for gossiping.

"All very well in the world of breakthroughs and personal growth," Loki interrupted, "but what did you feel that was born of magic?"

The students all exchanged confused glances. Svala then spoke up. "These are all magical events, Prince Loki."

"Ollerus." Loki said, ignoring Svala. "What did you learn?"

The boy was eager to share. "I learned that if you take down a boar with your bare hands, they scream a lot more than simply piercing their heart with an arrow."

Gasps and whispers spread like wildfire through the class.

"Silence," Loki ordered, trying to erase image from his mind. He couldn't stand the thought of suffering animals. "My son, that has nothing to do with medita—

"No, but it does," Ollerus defended. "See, I was sitting in a tree, being really still like you said, keeping my breath shallow and quiet, so quiet that the boar had no idea I was even there, so he came walking right below me and BAM, I dropped down and nailed him."

"Was this a breakthrough in hunting?" Loki ventured, hopeful.

"Not really," Ollerus shrugged. "It was just the first time I killed a beast without a weapon."

"And what were the benefits of this tactic?" Loki glanced at Svala, noting with concern her wincing reaction to Ollerus's story. "Did the animal suffer less?"

"Nah," Ollerus spoke too casually. "The opposite. Like I said, it screamed even more, probably scared away every other beast in the area, which would have been bad if I was on a hunting excursion."

"I'm," Loki felt a muscle tense in his neck. "I'm not understanding the magical connection here."

"I did something I've never done before," Ollerus shrugged again, looking to the other students. Just like how Reindal heard a bird call for the first time, and Ingrid finally found a cure for her headaches."

"Ollie," Svala spoke up, gently, "What Ingrid and Reindal experienced was the result of quieting their minds, and of attaining a focus outside of the usual clutter of our thoughts. A clear mind is the canvas which magic will paint upon. What you did to that boar...was not magic."

Or at least it wasn't Light magic, Loki thought. Killing a boar bare-handed is no easy task. He had seen men twice the size of Ollerus boasting such feats and showing off the tusk wounds to prove it. The boy had barely a scratch on him. This could only be the work of dark magic.

"What are you saying?" Ollerus got defensive. "That I can't learn magic?"

Loki felt his stomach turn. He promised Sif he wouldn't teach him dark magic. But if dark is what he is prone to, then there would be no magic at all to teach him, and that felt unacceptable. Does he break his promise with Sif, risk the health of their son for the chance he could master dark as Loki has, or does he lie to the boy: make him believe he is magically inept.

He had to say something. All eyes were on him for an explanation. Lying suddenly seemed like the right thing to do, but for the first time in...well, ever, it did not come easily. He pulled Ollerus aside, and requested Svala take over the class for him.

"Your brutality as a hunter," Loki began once they were away from the class," is the same I've seen in your mother on the battlefield. You are both gifted with physical strengths that negate the need to learn magic. Perhaps that is what's intended for you, to take after her more than you do me."

"What does that mean?" Ollerus didn't want to hear this. "I can't learn magic?"

Loki took a deep breath. "It...appears that way."

A sadness washed over the boy's face, one Loki couldn't pinpoint but feared was a sign that his lie didn't stick. Ollerus was bright and intuitive. He very well could see through a lie that Loki wasn't comfortable telling.

In a scene oddly familiar to the one just last night with Sif, the boy turned away in silence, retreating in disappointment and leaving Loki alone to question why his paradise here is Glasir, was all crumbling beneath his feet.

The first place Eir would look for Loki would be the library. After everything a near-pouncing Svala had reported upon the elder's return, and given that mother and son were sitting at the river's edge without the company of their father, it was the most logical deduction that the Dark Prince was taking refuge among the ancient scholars, something he had always done as a boy during troubling times.

"My girls inform me that you have a rather interesting but effective approach to teaching," Eir said upon entering the library, finding Loki slowly pacing, lost in a thick tome.

Loki glanced up. "Welcome back, Elder." He apparently had no comment about his teaching methods.

Never one for disorder, Eir immediately began collecting books strewn around on tables and chairs. "I can teach these girls the most complicated of spells yet I can't seem to teach them how clean up after themselves."

Loki smiled, distantly, reverting his gaze back to the book. Eir had limited patience for small talk and felt it was time to address the elephant in the room.

"You made the right call," she said.

"It is a lie," he responded softly. "I have led my son to believe he takes after Sif, when in fact he may be more like me in ways I wish he was not."

Eir continued to shelve the stray books, pausing before speaking. "What happened to Ollerus in your classroom today was very reminiscent of what happened to Sif in her first and only magic class."

That snared Loki's full attention. "Tell me."

Eir hugged the stack of books to her chest, taking a deep breath. "The details are unimportant. What matters is that her brush with magic yielded only destruction and brutality. That is when I told her to forget about magic, that she was unable to wield it, and turned her over to train under Brunhild's army."

"Then you lied to her," Loki said, "the same way I have to my son."

"I did what was necessary. She was born to be a soldier."

"No." Loki's volume rose. "You should have told her. She had the right to know what she was and wasn't capable of. Just as Ollerus does."

"I used to believe that too," Eir kept her voice calm, confident. "Long ago, when I had taken on my first fledgling sorceress. I was impressed by her quick advancement with Light. I hadn't seen anyone wield it as masterfully as she had since, well, since I was in training. I saw great potential in her. So, I introduced her to the dark arts, knowing that when used sparingly and properly, it would only bolster her talents in Light. I trusted her to use that knowledge responsibly. She did not. She chose the dark path, favoring its effortless benefits, letting it consume her. Everything I had taught her about balance and moderation had become moot."

"What became of her?"

"She is now on Midgard, pulling the strings behind whatever war criminal or crooked politician she can sink her nails into."

Loki's eyes lit up as if he just solved a puzzle. "Amora..."

Eir began shelving books again.

"You blame yourself for her decisions," Loki said, setting his book down.

"She would have been a remarkable healer," Eir said with a rare remorse.

Loki narrowed his eyes. "So you think Sif would have chosen a dark path as well, had she be told the truth. How little faith you had in her."

"The truth, Loki, is that we're all susceptible to dark magic. Every last one of us, from the dullest troll to the most honorable Einherjar. Sif was incapable of learning Light therefore she wasn't meant to wield magic at all. The same is apparently true of your son. It is all part of the balance. Dark magic can consume anyone who embraces it, it does not discriminate. It has taken the lives of many will continue to do so, which is why I have found ignorance to be the best weapon against it. If one believes they are not intended to wield magic of any kind, then they will never invite it in."

Loki was incredulous. "How is it I've worked with magic my entire life and have never known this?"

"Only a select few of us know."

"Odin? Heimdall? My mother?!"

Eir nodded. "Only those of us who need to know."

"Why would you tell me?" This was a puzzle Loki couldn't solve. "Did you learn nothing from Amora? What makes you think I won't take this information to Midgard and raise an army of mindless dark magicians?"

Eir arched her brow. "Would you?"

"I could!"

"But you won't."

Loki backed down, realizing Eir could not be intimidated so easily. "I've already unleashed a dark army onto Earth." He smirked. "Where's the fun in doing it again?"

"You jest very inappropriately." Eir could not be charmed easily either. "The reason I have shared this information with you is because I trust you with it. You've seen firsthand how dark magic can ruin lives. You watched your lover deteriorate into madness."

"Ex—lover," Loki corrected, "and you are a fool to trust me."

"Am I?" Eir's resolve was unbreakable. "I'm telling you, Loki, because I want you to make the right decision for Ollerus."

"Right decision," Loki scoffed. "You want me to perpetuate a lie."

"It is hardly a difficult task for you."

"It's different when we're talking about my son!"

Eir sighed, finally relenting a notch. "I am not one to condone lying but in the case of dark magic, exceptions must be made."

"That's a fine justification," Loki spat. "Is that what relieves your guilt from lying to Sif? Is that the logic you used before you both lied to my son about his lineage?"

"Your guilt trips do not work on me because I harbor no guilt that can be exploited." Eir hardened her tone. "Unlike you."

"Nice try but I have no guilt and I'm not about to create any by continuing to lie to my son."

Eir shook her head, disappointed. "You stand here and you lie so fluidly to me, yet you will not withhold potentially damning information from your own flesh. Your grudges cloud your judgement."

"Ha!" Loki's face split with a gaping grin. "Your double-standards are monumental."

"Loki, please." Eir had to change tactics, putting the well-being of Ollerus over her pride. "Your boy is highly intelligent and dangerously curious, just like Amora was. You risk losing him to forces beyond your control."

"You know nothing of my control," Loki boasted. "If dark magic is so all-consuming then why am I standing here, in Glasir, on the holy grounds of your temple. Me! God of Lies, Mischief and Chaos, allowed to instruct your precious, innocent students."

"I trust the Light in you."

"There is no Light in me! Frigga only ever taught me dark."

"That," Eir was taken aback. "That can't be true."

"It is! Face it, Elder," Loki challenged, "I have control over dark magic in ways you can't even comprehend. As did my mother."

"No." Eir stepped up to the challenge. "You don't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you wouldn't be standing here." She took a step closer. "In Glasir." Another step. "Arguing with me about the honorable thing to do for Ollerus." She was now breaching his comfort zone. "If you were truly devoid of Light, you would still be rotting in your prison cell."

Loki stepped back, insulted and without rebuttal. "My son has a right to the truth," he blurted while retreating to the exit.

Reeling from his stand-off with the elder, Loki had to walk off some aggression before he was to approach his son. He couldn't risk losing his temper. He had to be calm. There was no telling how Ollerus would react to his confession, which he going forward with, despite Eir's advice. What did she know...Just because she helped raise the boy she thought she knew what was best for him? She knew nothing, the pompous old bat!

Loki did a lap down to the stables and back, finding the cool light of the moon relieving to his frustration. He then bumped into Svala who said Sif and Ollie were at the river's edge and in good spirits. That came as a relief considering the moods Loki last saw them in.

"Uh oh," Ollerus said as Loki came into view. "Father won't be pleased to hear the news." Loki approached them at the river, a knot forming in gut despite the serenity of the scene. They were both seated casually next to the rushing moonlit water. Sif was wrapped up in her fur cloak and Ollerus was tending to the small campfire he had made for her. "Will you tell him so I don't have to?" the boy asked his mother, avoiding eye contact with Loki.

"Tell me what." Loki was almost afraid to ask.

Sif eyed Loki head to toe. "You tell him," she responded to Ollerus. "It was your idea."

"Tell me what." Now Loki was growing impatient.

"We're all going on a hunting excursion tomorrow," Ollerus said with a timid smile. "I heard reports of a heard of bilgesnipe moving through the lower plains. I know you don't like seeing animals suffer, but bilgesnipe aren't exactly friendly, and the Valkyries use their hides and antlers for all manner of things."

"I told him he could only do it under supervision," Sif added. "They are vicious creatures."

"I've seen worse," Loki commented. He then took a deep breath. "Ollerus, there's something I need..." Loki suddenly found himself tongue-tied by the whole situation. "Well, I thought...To be honest, I'm surprised to see you're not upset with me."

The boy shrugged. "Why should I be?"

"I have failed you as a teacher," Loki confessed.

Ollerus's spirits instantly lifted. Was he not harboring a grudge? "It's not your fault that I can't learn magic. Besides, hunting bilgesnipe sounds way more fun than meditating."

"So..." Loki hadn't expected this at all. "That's it? No more magic?"

"Please don't be disappointed in me." Ollerus stood up from the bank to make closer eye contact. He was only a head shorter than Loki, so close to being a man. "I know you don't like skiing or hunting, but those things to me are like, what magic is to you. I'm just going to stick with what I know I'm good at."

Loki was at a loss. He had wanted to set everything straight, to furnish his son with complete truth so he would never have to question his potential or who he was, but as the boy stood here and demonstrated an impressively strong sense of self, unfettered by the lie, Loki was robbed of all rehearsed words.

"Oh," Ollerus went on. "I'm good at wood carving too. And you know why?"

"I..." Loki faltered. "No."

From a vest pocket, the boy pulled out the otter figurine that had mysteriously disappeared from Loki's childhood bedroom. "Mother gave me this a couple years ago, said it was carved by my father. It inspired me. Because of this otter, I can make all of my own gear, plus I've made some figurines for Valkyries in exchange for stuff. When I'm older I could probably open my own store in the Medina, don't you think? Then we could see each other all the time. And maybe you could put enchantments on the stuff I make, to make it more valuable?"

"I..." Loki still didn't know what to say. But he was nonetheless touched. "Yes, why not."

"Alright, darling," Sif intervened, rising from the grass. "That's enough. Off to bed. I think your ambitions have broken your father's brain."

"Fine," the boy sighed, stuffing the figure back in his pocket. He gave Sif a quick peck on the cheek. "Goodnight." He then turned to Loki and smiled. His eyes glistened with relief, with adoration, and most surprisingly, with trust.

"Goodnight," was all Loki could manage, and then the boy was gone. Clearly, if Ollerus was to ever learn the full truth, it was not meant to happen tonight.

Sif inhaled deeply, an expression of her pride, then stepped closer to Loki. She obviously wasn't as upset as she had been last night. "Quite a day we've had," she said, like a peace offering.

"Sif..." Loki began, his head full of questions. "What did you say to him to cheer him up so?"

"Not much." She shrugged. "I mean you heard him. He's content to pursue what he knows he's good at. I simply told him that if you dabble in everything you master nothing. The exception being, of course, weapon mastery. There it's okay to branch out, try new things. Fandral refuses to see my point of view on this, but how many times has Fandral been bested by an opponent who wielded a weapon he was unfamiliar with. How many rapiers has he gone though because they could withstand the crushing blow of a mace? He doesn't listen, to me or to Hogun, and now that Hogun isn't around beat his arse down in the training grounds, it's up to me."

"Sif!" Loki's head was spinning. "I don't care about any of this. Tell me what else you said to Oller—"

"I'm getting there!" She cut him off. "Your Royal Rudeness. Anyhow, I told Ollerus he could come to Asgard to watch me duel Fandral—more importantly, to watch me win. I also told him he would finally get to meet Thor. That cheered him right up."

Loki sank. "So it's taken nothing more than the allure of barbarism to take his mind off magic."

"Would you rather have him moping around feeling sorry for himself?"

"I'd rather he not give up so easily."

"There's nothing to give up, Loki." Sif kept a softness in her voice. "You told him yourself, he takes after me. His strengths are better utilized in his physical talents."

Loki looked at Sif, specifically her eyes, noting the way they gleamed when she was at peace. She had been wary of Ollerus's introduction to magic, afraid perhaps that it might distance her from her son, but now she no longer carried that worry. She glowed with pride, relishing the unique bonds she has with the boy, full of faith he would only grow stronger in the absence of magic, just as she had. She was filled with the sincerest joy, and who was Loki to take that away from her. Who was he to gamble their son's future with the unpredictable whims of dark magic, all because he was on this specific crusade of truth.

Truth was not the solution here. And if anyone understood the benefit of a lie, it was surely him.

"Loki," Sif said. "What is it?"

"I worry that he will become more enchanted by my brother and lose his interest in me." That was really more of a diversion than a lie. "If I cannot teach him magic than what good am I as his father?"

"Are you kidding?" Sif laughed at the irony. "Loki, he was more worried that you'd be disappointed in him than he was upset over his failings in magic. He only wants you to be proud of him."

"What a foolish gesture. Of course I'm proud of him. I'm proud of all my children, no matter the hand life has dealt them."

Sif blinked, touched by his words. "Then it appears I have misjudged you. You are no stranger to love, at least not when it comes to giving it away."

"But." Loki knew there was a catch. He wasn't getting off that easily after the things he had said last night.

"But," she wrapped her arms around his waist. "The next step is allowing yourself to be loved."

"The next step?" Loki played at resistance. "What is this, a detox clinic? Another trial? Am I to be—"

Sif shushed him. "It's your lesson in magic. For there is no greater magic in the nine realms," she moved her lips to where her finger was, leaving just enough space to talk, "than what I'm about to do to your body."