Loki traced runes with his finger onto the arm of the throne as the raggedy witches were dragged before him in chains. Their leader glared up at what she thought to be Odin with defiance he would have admired if it weren't for her crimes, and the rest of the women huddled behind her. He kept his eyes- well, eye- fixed on the ringleader, and tried not to meet the face that was only waist height and shaking in terror.
"Helga Sivsdottir," he began, his voice echoing around the glorious chamber and making the audience shiver in respect, "you and your clan, the Völur, have committed crimes of such heinousness I hoped never to see them in this age of light. To worship arcane and disproven gods would be immoral enough, but to sacrifice the innocent in the name of your false idols is an atrocity the Allfather cannot forgive, regardless of sex or age."
One of the women let out a sob, and the others hissed at her to be quiet. Not one of them so much as laid a hand on the shoulder of the child.
"You disgust me," Loki said, with genuine vitriol in his voice, and the crowd flinched as he said it. He held the age-darkened gaze of Sivsdottir with contempt. "Over the course of your activity, the Völur have mercilessly slaughtered two hundred and fourteen children of Vanaheim, and would no doubt have continued to do so had my son and his warriors not continued to do so." He extended a hand to Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three, who dropped to their knees in respect. "Even if this decision were not my own, your punishment would still be the same. Your fate, beldams, is unanimously decided upon, from omnipotent king to lowly peasant."
"We serve no king!" Helga declared with fire in her voice and hatred in her stare. "We worship only the Eternal Goddess, she who brings us our gift, and make no mistake, golden pretender, she will smite you for daring to accost us."
Loki thought of how the children, burning alive, must have screamed. He thought of the daughter Gwen never birthed, of his realm-destroying rage had such a fate become her, and any cracks in his resolve disappeared. "Völur Clan of Sivsdottir," he decreed, "you are hereby sentenced to death by blood eagle at dawn, save for your youngest, who is sentenced to death by beheading. Let it be known the Allfather is not without mercy."
"Murderer!" Helga snarled, "impious prick!"
Glad you noticed, he thought grimly as the guards took the women away. He dismissed the audience, who had cheered with vengeance twisting their faces at the verdict, and once the room emptied Thor approached him.
"You were right," he said, "to spare the girl the blood eagle. 'Tis a gruesome way to die."
"Do I need my son to tell me that?" he replied, and Thor flushed as he shook his head. "Do not take offence, boy. It is good to have someone to check me of a while, now that Frigga is gone. But ensure the girl is not taken to the prison with the rest of them; put her in the Grey Chamber and station two guards outside the doors, and tell them I will send a third later tonight to explain her fate to her."
"Yes, father."
He watched Thor go, then sent away the rest of the guards. Loki stood up, leaving an identical copy of the Allfather in his throne, and conjured the glamour of a guard himself as he descended the steps. Odin may not have been able to save the child, but Silvertongue was born and raised to treat laws as things to be broken.
He milled around until the moon was at its highest, then made his way to the chamber where the girl was being kept. The two gatekeepers gave way to him with a nod, recognising one of their own, and closed the door behind him.
The girl, who seemed even tinier up close, was curled up in the darkest corner of the silvery chamber- she peered at him through her fingers and shrunk away.
Loki laid the guard's spear aside and raised his hands as he crouched. "I am not going to hurt you," he said as kindly as he could, "but you need to listen to me, child."
"Who are you?"
"Your rescuer." He had ordered for her to be put in the Grey Chamber for a reason; there was a passage behind one of the bookshelves, which, despite being a complete cliché, was one only a single person knew about. "They will check on you in about five minutes, by my count, if they are doing it on the hour as they are supposed to, so we need to be swift."
"I'm scared," she mumbled, and Loki pursed his lips. He really didn't have time for this.
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why are you scared?"
"Because… because as soon as they notice I am gone, they will raise the alarm and start hunting us down." Her accent was rough, a commoner's, but more noticeably she hesitated on almost every word as if she didn't expect to make it to the end of the sentence.
"Ah," he said, "but they won't notice, as long as you are gone by the time they come in."
"I- I don't understand."
"You have magic, don't you?" She nodded. "Then I should have thought the answer obvious." With a little force of will, he conjured up an illusion of her that stood in the centre of the room and watched them impassively.
The girl's eyes widened. "You have it too!"
"Yes," he said, "again, obvious." He crossed to the bookshelf with swift steps, pressed a few of the books downwards in a pattern and it clicked open. "Hurry. Run until you reach a junction, and then wait for me."
She hesitated.
"Now!"
Loki watched her as she bolted, made the illusion take her place by the pillar, shut the bookcase behind her and strode out of the room like nothing had happened. It took five minutes for him to find an entrance to the annals that didn't have people milling around it, and another five to reach the girl, who was crying quietly in the darkness.
"You came back," she wept.
"Of course I did." He took her tiny hand in his and led her downwards, through pitch black corridors he knew so well he didn't need light in them anyway. "You are lucky my mother taught me her tricks, child."
She had stopped crying a couple of minutes ago. "Who was she?" she asked. "Was she one of the clan?"
"A long time ago. Before the dark age."
"Your mother was Frigga?" she asked in amazement, having to take three steps for every one of his. Unlike Lucy, this one didn't seem to complain about walking.
"Indeed she was."
"Are you- are you Thor?"
Loki snorted. "If I were Thor," he told her, "your escape would have been far less subtle and far more destructive; not to mention that we would probably both be dead by now. No, girl, I am not he. Besides, the fool could never learn magic."
"She had a third son?"
In the darkness, Loki rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you to figure it out." They emerged into Odin's empty sleeping chamber, and the girl's eyes widened in amazement at the opulence as he crossed to the chest in which he kept that which he did not want anyone to know about and unlocked it. Inside were a few of his possessions that would be instantly recognisable as Loki's, a few purple crystals, and one of Gwen's books. He rummaged through the clutter and pulled out another key, this one taking the form of half a polished geode.
He locked the trunk and guided the girl to where a candlestick was mounted into the wall, slightly different to the style of the others. Everyone knew about the Lover's Passage (an ill-thought out name) that led to the king's chamber, but it had been all but forgotten since Odin married Frigga and besides, who would suspect the Allfather of sneaking the girl out via this route?
He pressed the stone to the protruding pattern of the candlestick and it clicked, the geode glowing green for a moment before fading back to dullness. The passage beyond was dusty and the air tasted like old books smelled, but laced throughout it was a trace of another, more familiar scent.
Loki squeezed the stone and it began to glow again, illuminating the smooth stone walls of the passage that bounced the light back and forth down it to where the corridor turned. Just visible in the shadows that were being thrown was a small figure in dark clothes and a hood, who waved at them. Loki put his hand on the girl's back and pushed her down the corridor, looking behind him all the way to make sure they were not interrupted.
"Wish you'd let me smoke in here," the figure said as they approached.
"The smell would give you away," Loki replied. "Girl, this is Ratatosk. Ratatosk, meet… sorry, what is your name, child?"
"Astrid," she said in a tiny voice, and Gwen crouched down on her haunches.
"Hey, Astrid," she smiled, pushing her hood back so the girl could see her face. "I'm here to get you to safety, okay?"
The child – Astrid – nodded.
"You've been very brave," she said, "braver than I could be. But I need you to carry on being brave for just a bit longer." She straightened up, and lowered her voice to talk to Loki. "You didn't know her name?!"
"The witches never gave it. Oh, do not look at me like that. I'm doing what I can - it was either this or the blood eagle."
"The what-now?"
Loki covered Astrid's ears with his hands and told her.
Gwen's eyes widened. "That's… imaginative. I'll have to remember that one. Does she know who you are?"
"She appears to be quite slow on the uptake," Loki said, and Gwen gave him a Look. "I thought it might… distress her."
"She should know," Gwen said promptly, and flinched as a sudden noise echoed down the passage. "What was that?"
"Guards at Odin's door," Loki said, "most likely reporting the disappearance. The horse is waiting for you and it will need no rest until you reach the gateway. Go."
Gwen rose onto tiptoe and kissed him. "Be careful."
"The same to you. And good luck."
He watched the two women disappear round the corner, then retreated out of the passageway, closed it and resumed his glamour of Odin just as the guards gave up with waiting and barged in.
"Your majesty," one panted, "a prisoner has escaped!"
"And who allowed this to happen?" Loki roared. He was really rather enjoying himself. "I put my faith in you and this is what happens? Which one?"
"The child, sir!"
"Then cease with your yammering and find her!"
The guards fled, and Loki rolled his eyes. Sometimes, things were just too easy.
A/N SECOND TO LAST CHAPTER WHAAAAAAT. ALSO THERE'S GONNA BE A SEQUEL WHAAAAAAAAAAAT