A few months after Loki's sentence, the Bifrost's repairs were complete. Heimdall immediately went to his king. Odin and Thor, with a legion of warriors, went first to Jotunheim where they vanquished the Muspel forces. Muspelheim retreated to tend to their wounds. The fire realm was not crushed, but it would take several long years to rebuild their army. Once Jotunheim was preserved, Thor parted ways with his father. Odin led his legion to stop the war between Nornheim and Alfheim's capital, Ria. Thor travelled to Vanaheim to aid his dear friend Hogun. Vanaheim's raiders proved to be a difficult bunch. The Vanir were mostly a peaceful race, and the Nidavellir of old Nornheim were quite the opposite. In fact, Odin once banished these mongrels to Vanaheim when Nidavellir was at war with itself; with the bandits gone, the realm of Nidavellir became Nornheim. The marauders were sentenced to peaceful life among the Vanir. And they were peaceful, mostly, for eight hundred years.
That was, until they found that Odin could not reach them.
Lady Sif and the Warriors Three provided the best help they could against the Nidavellir. But without Thor, their attacks were futile. Even the Einherjar, the strongest Aesir warriors, found it difficult to subdue the Nidavellir.
From out of a bolt of light came Mjølnir, and after the famed weapon, its master. Thor cleared a small portion of the bandits away with a heavy blast of lightning. Sif turned to him, fuming. "I've got this completely under control!" she shouted.
Thor smirked. "Is that why everything is on fire?" And then he was swept into battle as three Nidavellir took him from behind. Amidst the clashing, Thor made note of where his friends were. They seemed to be uninjured, though frustrated with the current outcome of the battle. Thor threw his hammer to strike down a foe; behind him, a creature with a spear took his chances. Sif threw up her shield to block the strike. Thor only turned for the strange noise of metal against metal.
"You're welcome," she growled.
From the distance came a mighty roar. The earth reverberated with heavy thuds. All battle ceased as a rock troll cleared the smoke. Thor gave a quiet sigh. The troll batted away an Aesir with no effort at all; the man went flying. The Nidavellir cheered.
"All yours," Sif said simply.
Thor frowned at her as he stepped forth. The god and the beast met in the center of the crowd. The troll roared, slamming its club into the ground.
"Hello," Thor greeted it. The beast snarled at him. For being made of stones, it had terrible breath. "I accept your surrender." The marauders all laughed heartily. They had no cause to believe Thor would survive this battle, if he fought anything like his comrades. They knew not Thor's strength. Thor chuckled at their disbelief as he swung Mjølnir at his side. In a blink, the rock troll was reduced to rubble.
Thor sniffed. "Anyone else?"
The Nidavellir fell silent and accepted their defeat.
Fandral's head appeared over the kneeling mongrels. "Perhaps next time we should start with the big one," he suggested.
The Nidavellir were gathered and bound by the Aesir warriors. Thor, Sif, and the Three offered their help to clean the mess. The Vanir were grateful. Hogun came to Thor's side. "Where do we go next?" he asked.
"Hogun, the peace is nearly won across the nine realms." Thor turned to face his friend. "You should stay here. Be with your people, where your heart is. Asgard can wait."
Hogun the Grim offered a sincere smile, shook hands in gratitude. "You have my thanks," he murmured.
"As you have mine," Thor nodded. Hogun left his side and the golden haired prince turned his eyes to the sky. "Heimdall, when you're ready."
Heimdall opened the Bifrost, now an immediate action, and Thor went to his father to share news of triumph. After the brief meeting, he rinsed the grime from his neck and shoulders in his wash basin; when that was not enough, he retreated to the bath hall where he settled into the mineral pool for a much needed soak. The floor stones were cold, though the air was warm with mist. Thor rested his head against the edge of the sandstone and mulled over his thoughts.
The nine realms were finally at peace. Jotunheim, Helheim, and Svartalfheim were as dead as they were ever going to get. Ria invoked a peace treaty between Alfheim and Nornheim. Muspelheim was silent. Midgard was Midgard. Vanaheim's marauders were being collected and sent to the Asgardian dungeons. Thor rubbed his face. Loki resided somewhere down there as well. The golden haired prince wondered if he even knew why he was imprisoned. Odin never did make his punishments very clear during their childhood. Perhaps if Loki had been present at the council, Thor would not feel so guilty. But Loki was asleep then, and if they woke him, who knew what would have happened to his fractured mind.
A voice haunted Thor's mind as he recalled the council. It was Odin, retelling the curse old King Bor placed on his son in his last breaths.
''A blood feud shall begin the Ragnarök. All will perish under his name – a prince, born in eternal winter, shall return the land to his birthright; four years of winter mark the beginning of the end.''
Well, they had not witnessed such weather yet. And Asgard's royalty was marked with years of blood feuds. It was nothing new.
''Where he walks, a river of blood shall follow. Disguises he prefers, he shall never show his true face except under the light of hatred. Malice born of mischief hollows the crown.''
Thor pinched his bottom lip in thought. Loki did seem to birth destruction. Still, soldiers were soldiers and all of Asgard's defenders were guilty of murder. How else were they to destroy their enemies? In reference to malice-born mischief, Thor was not innocent. His adolescent years were full of such evils. An unworthy crown for such a thing paid no mind to all the other kings in history whose royalties were secured through another's death.
''Unto him, a curse of love.''
That was unarguable; Thor knew firsthand Loki's terrible luck with Siv.
''Unto you, a curse of hate.''
If Odin knew his was cursed to hate, then why not make an effort to deny it? Perhaps if Loki had been treated as well as Thor, the raven haired prince would not be such a mess today.
''War and death will purge all the nine realms, unforgiving and uncaring of the innocent; he shall be the king of nothing; death makes time irrelevant, and grief makes time evanescent. Time is vindictive, and strives only to break her already broken cycle.''
Three realms were already considered dead. Loki destroyed Jotunheim with the Bifrost – if he was supposed to be a Jotun king, he destroyed his own kingdom. That would warrant being king of nothing. Though, Thor was beginning to have reservations against being king of Asgard. And if what they said about the Tesseract was true, then Siv was gone and her soul's cycle should have been reset. No more Siv to muck things up.
But even Thor, with all his intentions good and worthy, could not let himself be blinded of the signs. This threat of universal death was very real. Loki had already proved himself capable of killing on a whim. His adamancy frightened the golden haired prince. To see five of the six live realms simultaneously at war made Thor uneasy. There was peace, for now. Tensions were always high directly after a battle.
As much as Thor wanted to save Loki from perdition, his brother was safer in a cell than at the mercy of a hall of fearful old kings. Thor removed himself from the bath, dressed, and went to celebrate with his friends. When he could no longer be in the company of cheery souls, he went to Heimdall. Thor journeyed to the observatory on foot, enjoying the rhythmic lapping of the waves far below him, and the smell of sea salt in the wind. He approached the mouth of the now-spired observatory with heavy feet.
"You're late," said the gatekeeper.
"Merriment can sometimes be a heavier burden than battle," Thor replied, a tired grin to his voice.
Heimdall might have smiled. "Then you are doing one of them incorrectly."
Thor chuckled. "Perhaps. How fare the stars?"
"Still shining," Heimdall reported. "From here, I can see nine realms and ten trillion souls." The gatekeeper and overseer looked toward his prince. He lowered his sword into the control panel and shut down the Bifrost for the night. "Do you recall what I taught you of the Convergence?"
Thor nodded. "Yes." He remembered it faintly, as an image in his mind rather than a concept. He also remembered having not paid much attention to that lesson. "The alignment of the worlds. It approaches, doesn't it?"
"The universe has not seen this marvel since before my watch began." Heimdall stepped down from his platform to join Thor's side. "Few can sense it. Even fewer can see it. But while its effects can be dangerous, it is truly beautiful."
The golden haired prince searched the cosmos. "I see nothing."
"Or, perhaps, that is not the beauty you seek."
Thor gave a sheepish grin, chuckling once more. Heimdall was right. The weary prince turned his eye to the general direction of Midgard. "How is she?"
"She is quite clever, your mortal. She doesn't know it yet, but she studies the Convergence as well. Even," Heimdall stepped closer to the stars. He never finished his sentence.
"What?" Thor asked.
The gatekeeper and overseer had lost sight of Jane.
Thor fled to Midgard in search of her.
҉
Once every day for three and a half months, Frigga visited her raven haired prince in the dungeon. They offered the same greetings, spoke the same phrases, fought the same arguments, and bid the same farewells. Loki sighed to hear those words fall on deaf ears. Once every day for three and a half months, Frigga brought her raven haired prince a meal from the dining hall. It consisted of meat, and fish, and fruits, and breads, and wine. Loki delighted to taste the work of the Aesir chefs while all else in the dungeons received gruel. Once every day for three and a half months, Frigga sent her raven haired prince another item from his collection. She gave him books, and puzzles, and a bed, and a table, and a chair, and snacks, and alcohol. Loki smirked to see his dungeonmates seethe in jealousy from their plain white cells.
Each time she visited, Loki cloaked himself in the same ceremonial garb from the trial, and adopted the same snide and playful air. Underneath, he still felt just as beaten and ill as the dawn he finally awoke.
"Odin continues to bring me new friends. How . . . thoughtful," Loki insinuated, watching from the cell as the guards paraded more prisoners down the hall.
"The books I sent, do they not interest you?" Frigga asked.
Loki turned to face her, blank faced, though his eyes betrayed his annoyance. "Is that how I am to while away eternity? Reading?"
"I've done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki," she murmured.
"Have you? Does Odin share your concern? Does Thor?" He placed his hands on the table, leaning toward her. "It must be so inconvenient, them asking after me day and night."
Frigga remained unamused. "You know full well it was your actions that brought you here."
Ah, even after every disagreement for three and a half months, the Queen still believed this imprisonment was the result of his actions. Not of a prophecy. "My actions?" he repeated, gesturing to himself. "I was merely giving truth to the lie that I had been fed my entire life. That I was born to be a king." He walked away from her.
"A king?" Frigga chided. "A true king admits his faults."
'Odin never seemed to pick up on that,' he thought smugly.
"What of the lives you took on Earth?"
Loki scoffed. "A mere handful compared to the number that Odin has taken himself." Here they were, back to the same blasted quarrel. Next, she would start her sentence with "Your father".
Frigga sighed. "Your father– "
"HE'S NOT MY FATHER!" Loki snarled.
The Queen did not flinch. "Then am I not your mother?" she asked.
Loki was taken aback. This was not how this argument finished. But then, he had never raised his voice to her. He had not done so since the last time he was imprisoned. He swallowed and straightened. "You're not," he answered.
Frigga gave a weak chuckle, holding back her tears. "You're always so perceptive about everyone but yourself," she whispered. Loki shook his head and dismissed her doppelgänger. His own apparition faded from her mirror, a reflection pool hidden in the floor of her sitting room.
"You still see good in him, don't you?" Thor asked quietly, approaching his mother.
Frigga turned quickly, a bright smile gracing her face. "Welcome home, son," she greeted.
"Why indulge him in gifts, visits?"
Frigga sported a grin that seemed very much like her raven haired prince. "I think if you ask his guards, they will tell you I was never there." She took her son's arm and led him away from the room.
It pained the mighty Thor to say this, but he had to. "Mother, Loki is not the boy you once knew."
"Nor are you," she countered. "And I loved you no less when your father banished you to Earth."
They strolled leisurely down the corridor. "Do you ever regret sharing your magic with him?" Thor questioned.
"No," she smiled. "You and your father cast large shadows. I had hoped, that, by sharing my gifts with Loki, he could find some sun for himself."
Thor chuckled. In spite of every warning and threat they faced, Frigga still held hope. "I admire your optimism, and your compassion. I wish I could still share it."
"Now, am I to take it, by your presence, that the nine realms still stand?" She would not let him turn this conversation toward that dreadful topic.
"Yes, they do. I came to give Father the good news."
"You thought to find him here?" she scoffed. "You will find him where he is most at ease."
And with that, Thor left his mother by a balcony. Truthfully, Odin already knew the outcome of Thor's battles. He suspected Frigga knew that as well. Instead of going to find the King, he joined his mortal in the courtyard. She fit the Asgardian dress very well, seeming only out of place due to her childlike fascination with the world. Thor refused to let himself think that this is what Clarice must have been like, however many years ago it was. He was a child then, in mind. Those were terribly embarrassing years to recall.
҉
Loki laid in his bed, tossing a simple cup in the air above him. He still cloaked himself in that mask of health. He could not let the other prisoners see him as weak. They must fear him from their cells. His mind ran the same clip over and over in his tired mind.
"Then am I not your mother?"
"You're not."
Suddenly, a great clamor rose from the cell across the hall. Loki paused, focusing on the noise. A brawl? No, the prisoners screamed in terror. Murder, then. The lights of his cell dimmed and Loki pulled himself up to examine the chaos.
A great beam of fiery light exploded from one body, then thick clouds of dark smoke. It all looked rather unpleasant from Loki's little corner of solitude. He could only imagine how the other captives felt. A great beast roared from the mess. The guards neared the cell, but what could they do? The fire beast used the face of one inmate as a shield while it shattered the electric wall. As soon as the magic was broken, the horns were sounded. With just a touch, the beast ripped the life out of the Aesir warriors. It proceeded to let several other prisoners out of their cages; however, it paused when it reached the prince. Loki smirked.
'I dare you to let me out,' Loki taunted. The beast backed down from his cell. 'Smart.'
Still, he could not leave a fellow friend in need. "You might want to take the stairs to the left," Loki suggested.
A hoard of soldiers flooded into the dungeons to stop the rampage. Could they not see this was merely a distraction? Loki sighed as he retired to the ledge, mindlessly flipping through one of the many books in his expanding collection.
"It's as if they resent being imprisoned!" came Fandral's voice above the fray.
"There's no pleasing some creatures!" Volstaag responded.
Loki curled his upper lip. Somehow, it felt like they referred to him. He licked his finger and flipped a page. Surely there was something more interesting inside these covers than out there in the madness.
"Return to your cells and no further harm will come to you. You have my word."
"Thor, please," Loki scoffed under his breath.
The prisoners were soon contained and tensions died down. That was, until a great and heavy thudding came from the ceiling and knocked loose several clouds of dust. Thor, on instinct and out of fear, looked toward the raven haired prince. Loki, though unsure what to make of the chaos above, felt his heart drop to see even Thor's eyes accusing him of the sound. They parted glances as quickly as it had come; a few soldiers ran down the hall. "The throne of Asgard is destroyed! To the king!" they shouted. Thor, Fandral, and Volstaag followed them out of the dungeon. Loki retreated to his chair, where he sat and listened quietly.
If he strained, he swore he could hear the muffled sound of his mother's – of Frigga's fighting. But then the scuffling ceased, and a great clash of thunder shook his ears. An awful stretch of silence followed. It cloaked the entire palace, settling like the dust that poured through the ceiling. It made Loki pace to feel the tense atmosphere. The air itself mourned, though Loki could not understand why. The raven haired prince finally settled into his chair to read over the same pages he browsed earlier.
Later that night, a guard came to his cell, removed his helmet, and bore the terrible news.
Frigga was dead.
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