Hi, everybody. I'm glad you're back, and sorry I've taken so long to update. Enjoy - and if you do, feel free to let me know and leave a comment :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin or any other characters in this story. This fanfic is done for the love of trickster deities, and I do not make money from it.

+++Chapter 8: Nasal Assault (and Other Insolences)+++

The door to Thor's room opened. Loki slipped in, a knife in each hand and a spell ready for casting. But the room was abandoned. He was alone.

Alone with Thor, who lay in an open glass box with his sword on his body like a dead warrior laid out for his last journey. His face was serene and pale, his eyes closed. Loki stepped closer, wary for traps. He held one of his shiny blades in front of his brother's mouth and nose: No condensation. Thor might be dead.

Only he most certainly wasn't, because the Fairy knew better than to slay Asgard's royal prince and hope to get away with it.

Loki straightened up, looking about. What had happened here?

The Mjolnir stood on its head beside the bed, which could mean only one thing: Thor had not seen the assault coming.

Loki started to wander about, searching the room. His gaze fell on the bowl of fruits – a rather unexpected sight in Thor's living quarters - and an apple on the ground. The fruit had rolled halfway under a breast plate that leaned against a trunk. Loki picked the apple up and noticed the missing bite. He frowned, muttering, 'That's so classical Fairy it's almost an insult.' He turned to his brother, 'But, of course, you had to fall for it.'

Loki returned to the glass coffin that he knew to be a container to enhance the magic, with tiny symbol etched into the sides and bottom. He stayed well clear of those powerful markings as he put his slender hand to the coffin's edge and leaned over Thor. With his index finger, he traced the muscles under the linen shirt. Top to bottom, then back up. Slowly. Sensuously.

'Hmmm.'

He coiled a long, wavy strand of blond hair around his finger and cupped the bearded chin with his palm. Finally, he slid his hand beneath Thor's neck, lifted the warrior's head and kissed his brother on the mouth.

Thor gave a strangled sound and sat up choking. He clutched his throat with his hand and hacked.

'Come on,' said Loki cheerfully.'I wasn't that bad.'

Thor looked up. 'Who are you?'

Loki arched his eyebrows, 'Well, what do I look like?'

'Do not play games, impostor. You're not my brother.' Thor grabbed the sword that had slid sideways and pointed it at Loki.

'You're not Thor, either,' the trickster stated. His form, clothing and hair-do changed significantly to reveal a blond maiden. 'A pity,' Angrboda went on even as the morphing progressed, her hands arranging the folds and lacing of her dress as the garment materialized. 'I thought to start with his room, looking for clues... and you had me almost convinced it might actually be so easy. There's not many people who can trick me, even for a second, fairy.'

Thor's frame seemed to glow from within, and a tall, slender, blindingly white figure appeared in his place. The fairy was still holding the sword, so he was not impressed by her sinister smile. 'How did you guess?'

'No taste of apple in your mouth,' said Angrboda. 'And another dozen of things, probably. What about you? What are you doing here? No, don't say. I know. You're here as a trap for people like me – anyone who happened to go unaffected by your spell and might come looking for the prince.'

'A precaution necessary with a gang of Jotuns around,' said the fairy, floating closer until the tip of the sword touched Angrboda's solar plexus. 'Only frost giants are immune to our spells. Whereas we fashioned this one especially so it would take hold on Odin Allfather and his ilk.' Without forewarning, the fairy stabbed Angrboda so hard the blade came out her back. She gave a gasping sound, her body going rigid.

'So, when you strolled in, it was obvious you weren't Loki Odinson,' the fairy continued in a conversational tone. 'You had to be Jotun.'

He thought it fine reasoning. He really could not see why she was laughing so hard.

The harpies had worked hard, using their wiry feet to rake at the hay. At first, they had laid free an arm, then a torso. Now, they were gathered round the still form, scrutinizing the sleeping face of Asgard's royal prince.

'Is that him, do you think?' asked one harpy.

'Hard to say. I've only known him behaving loud and boisterous,' said another.

The third harpy hopped on Thor's chest and continued to hop and trample its feet.

Thor gave a choking, snoring sound.

'Careful, sister,' said the first harpy. 'You remember freezing your rump with the other one.'

'The other one was breathing.' The harpy hopped with a vengeance. 'This one's not.'

Thor wheezed. Then he coughed. He sat up and reached out blindly for a cloth or handkerchief, taking it for granted from an eternity spent being a royal prince that someone would be nearby to provide for his need.

He found a whole ball of soft fabric and pushed it against his face.

'Aaargh!' The harpy fluttered, eyes nearly popping from its head. 'Aaargh!'

It strove to get away. It was caught, pulled back, fluffed up, formed into a handy ball and pressed once more against the future king's nose.

'Thank you, Sif.' Thor sniffed, blowing and dabbing his nose.

'Aaargh!' said the harpy one last time, weakly.

'Huh?' Thor finally realized something was wrong. He opened his eyes and squinted. 'You're not Sif,'

'You used our sister as a hanky,' said the oldest harpy, shocked.

'I'm sorry,' said Thor, not so much because he had caught up with his crime, but because he felt a wave of resentment from all around and thought he might have bigger problems than a flock of angry gossips. Hel, waking up in a haystack feeling like something tossed away by a giant always meant you had bigger problems on your hands than you first thought.

'You – you'd better,' huffed the humiliated harpy and puffed up its plumage.

Thor pointed, 'There's a chewed-on piece of apple in your feathers, my lady.'

'Aaargh! Gross!'

'Tell your hanky to stop that noise, Thor,' a drowsy voice said from somewhere to the left.

'Fandral.' Thor got to his feet and followed the familiar sound. He peered into the first stall, found a horse, went to the next and discovered his friend, who looked just as out of his depth at finding himself crammed in a manger as Thor had felt about his bed of hay.

'Fandral, what are you doing here?' Thor helped his friend out of the manger. - 'Not that I could relate my own reasons for being here,' he conceded, letting his gaze wander over the walls and high windows with the swallows' nests attached to the rafters.

Fandral sat on the floor and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. 'Had some errand to run at the stables – ' He started, blue eyes suddenly wide and alert. 'I was ambushed by a fairy.'

'A fairy?'

'Hit me on the head, while his comrades - ' Fandral touched his hand to his head and winced. 'They were collecting apples.'

'Apples? I remember now,' said Thor. 'You brought a bowl of fruit to my room and insisted that I eat at least one piece.'

'I suggested such a thing? To you?'

'Aye, and it was not only that: I did your bidding and nearly choked on that cursed apple.'

'I didn't bring you any fruit.' Fandral shook his head for emphasis, alarmed by the implication. But Thor was only thinking aloud, and he continued to do so as he looked around himself again, puzzled:

'Why am I not in my room? I remember falling to the floor. How did I get here?'

They looked at each other.

'Do you think there's magic at work?' asked Fandral.

'Let's find Loki,' said Thor with resolve. 'He'll know.'

Loki had been able to figure out his deal with Angrboda just in time, before the fairies showed up in the great hall at last. With the Jotun on her way to look for Thor, Loki decided to adopt her trick and play "sleeping guard on the hall's floor": He changed his appearance to an imitation of the red-haired, freckled youth that was usually assigned to first watch in front of his own door. He slumped with his back against Odin's seat of honor like a man passed out on duty of guarding his king. The scepter remained at convenient distance, ready to be snatched up and put into use.

Loki did not even dare peer out from under his eyelashes. He could sense the fairies move through the hall, and he could hear their feet tap and scrape on the stone floor. They were not really floating, after all. It was an illusion, just like all the light and grace and glory that they liked to surround themselves with.

'Oh yes, our dark cousins will like it here,' the leader said. 'Of course, this room requires some re-decorating, before it is fit to serve its new purpose.'

'Tables of marble,' said another fairy.

'Seats of honor of obsidian and crystal,' added the third.

The fourth ethereal creature gave a rather worldly snort, 'I say, this hall stinks of cooked meat.'

'What do our dark cousins eat?' asked his comrade with the partiality for obsidian, 'What kind of food is to their tastes, anyway?'

Loki listened and wondered. The more he heard, the more obvious it became that the fairies had not committed their treason to seize Asgard for their own. They were expecting visitors from somewhere "beyond the spheres" that they felt closely related to. And they prepared for their "dark cousins' " return, planning on offering the kingdom of Asgard for headquarters and Odin's palace for tenement. With so many nobles and delegates disabled along with Odin Allfather and his warriors, resistance on the other realms would be faint and poorly structured...

'Did you hear that?' The leader turned his head.

Loki froze, his hand almost on his father's scepter.

'Must've been a mouse,' said another fairy.

'The only mouse resisting our spell would have to be of Jotunheim breed.'

'One of the harpies, maybe?'

'Keeping its mouth shut for so long? Impossible.'

Loki held his breath as the fairies ambled closer.

'This one. Was his hand so close to the king before?'

'Something is strange. I sense magic about him...'

Loki prepared to leap to his feet and fight his way out of the great hall.

But just as the fairy leaned in, another voice – apparently coming from the door - shouted, 'They're waking up!'

The fairy leader turned, annoyed at the interruption, 'What do you mean, they're waking up?'

'The Asgardians.' The messenger seemed to be in panic. 'We need to leave! They are waking up, everywhere, all over Asgard. Thor must have been found and roused.'

Well, so the time had come for the younger prince of Asgard to rise and shine, as well.

The fairies assailed their leader with questions and pleas to retreat, before the Allfather awoke and resented them for their "shenanigans". Loki grabbed the king's scepter and speared the nearest fairy neatly through the chest. The second, he almost beheaded with a powerful backhand stroke, and the third was felled by an energy blast from Odin's staff, before the moment of surprise was past.

A knife came flying Loki's way. He caught the blade easily between the index finger and middle finger of his left hand, spun and re-directed Odin's scepter. As he blasted the thrower, he already sensed the fairy leader had his short bow ready and -

'Loki, watch out!'

Frigga's knife whizzed past and collided with the arrow sent by the fairy leader. Both weapons clattered to the floor without even getting near to the target.

Loki looked up, unsurprised, 'Thank you, mother.'

'Traitors!' That was Odin shouting, and his voice raised the guards from where the men had been rubbing their eyes on the floor. 'Warriors of Asgard! Seize your weapons! Arrest the fairies!'

The guards would gladly have followed the order, but...

'My king,' said an officer, prodding a rather small form. 'There is not much left to arrest.' He used his spear to roll the fairy over and started at the sight of the gnarled body in crude leather clothes, a mop of wiry hair, skin like rough tree bark and a wide mouth that seemed to reach from ear to ear. 'Whew. They sure lose their charm, dead.'

'There's four dead and one vanished into thin air,' said another guard.

Odin looked at his son.

'The immediate threat has been averted, my king.' Loki approached the throne reverently, proffering the scepter on his open hands.

Odin's eye was on him, almost pensive. It was obvious that the king had more on his mind than the reclaiming of his insignia. Loki felt his own pulse quicken. Now, now his father could no longer deny it. Thor was nowhere in sight, still the enemy lay slain. It was Loki's merit, he had done it. And he had done well.

Odin took the scepter, while holding the younger man's gaze. Loki dared not breathe.

Would the king say it?

Why would not the king say it?

The scepter was back in Odin's hand. The king started to speak.

He said, 'Loki. What happened? Where is Thor?'

Thor rushed through the stables with long strides. Hurrying along beside him and trying to keep up, Fandral told the story of how he had caught the fairies in the act of picking apples. As the warrior described how he got mugged, Thor scowled like a thunderstorm about to break. He raised his hand and called the Mjolnir to himself. Seconds later, the hammer crashed through the roof, missed a valuable steed by inches and –

'Baaah!' protested the little woolly thing that tried to slip past them and jumped at the sudden noise.

Fandral stopped to pat the animal's back. 'You scared it.' He looked again. 'What is that, anyway?'

'Baah,' said the goat whose horned head seemed strangely out of place on the soft, barrel-shaped body of a sheep. It did not reach higher than Fandral's knees. Yet, it seemed to be meant as someone's riding mount, judging from the leather saddle that was strapped to its back. Its padded feet had two fleshy toes each, and when it walked, they flattened out a bit as if melting into the floor and popped back into shape on being lifted again. Fandral had never seen something like it, but he supposed it had to do with balance and step security on shaky ground.

'That's the fairyphant,' said Thor. 'Strange. I thought it securely housed in a stall, back in the "Magical Mounts" wing.'

The fairyphant continued on its way out.

'Let's see where it goes,' said Thor, having learned long ago to trust in his whims and warrior instincts.

They followed the goat-sheep creature as it left the stable and walked out into the city of Asgard. All around the people of Asgard finished stretching their limbs and blinking their eyes, and were returning to their day's chores and work benches. The little visitor went unregarded as it strode forward purposefully. Yet, it would stop every ten or so meters and give a bleating sound, like a lost lamb's call for the flock.

Finally, it cocked its head as if it actually received an answer. It progressed at a quicker trot, forcing the warriors on its heels to break into a jog.

'Are my eyes deceiving me?' Fandral shaded his eyes with his hand. 'Is that thing growing?'

'An inch or two with every step,' agreed Thor. 'Well, it's a mount, after all.'

He tried not to show his own astonishment: The fairyphant had left the stable at the size of a chariot, and was swiftly expanding to meet the dimensions of a hay cart first, then a small hut, approaching the bulk of a house. Of course, people now started to take note; there was not really a way to help it. But stranger things had been seen on the loose in Odin's kingdom, and with Thor and his comrade following suit, they tended to take it in stride.

The fairyphant now pushed through a rather narrow street, scraping off a lot of loose wool in the process and probably rattling the furniture inside the adjoining houses. At the end of the street, it reached an empty market place, which it filled almost to the half with its woolly bulk. In fact, Fandral held his breath, praying that the beast managed to not knock down the fountain at the center of the square that was pressed against its flank. It looked a little miserable, too, and gave a cautious snort and a soft bleat.

From the shadows of the houses to the left, a fairy floated into view, tall, white and regal. Thor recognized the delegation leader that Loki had pulled his trickster pranks on. It seemed like weeks ago, that evening. Was it really only a few hours that they had all been feasting together, peacefully, more or less, and with nothing more to sort out than the happy news of Thor's upcoming status and rule?

The fairyphant pushed its muzzle against the fairy's raised hand. As it was caressed and, no doubt, praised for its obedience to its master's call, three other fairies approached from the opposite side of the square. There was an Asgardian lady in their company, flanked on both sides. There was a fairy holding firmly to each of her arms, as if to prevent her from escaping, when her torn and bloodstained dress indicated that she would not run very fast, or very far.

'That's the Lady Angrboda,' said Thor, hefting the Mjolnir. 'What have they done to Loki?'

'What have they done to her?' asked Fandral. 'Looks like she's been run through with a sword.'

'Looks like, aye,' said Thor. 'But how could she be still alive, if that were the case?'

'You think it's a trick?'

Thor thought of all the uncounted times that he had seen Loki use an illusion to gain advantage over his opponents. He said, 'A wound like that will kill a man within an half-hour. Minutes, if he moves.'

'Wish we could hear what they're saying,' mumbled Fandral.

'The others aren't coming,' the leader of the fairy said to his comrades, just out of earshot of the two warriors. 'The young prince of Asgard ambushed us in the great hall.'

'How so? He should have been disabled by the spell like the rest of them.' The fairy that had stabbed Angrboda and was now holding her left arm gave her a suspicious look. She had saved her strength as best she could, but now she laughed provokingly. Then, she coughed up blood. Thor saw her spit out and felt alarmed, his theory shaken. Fandral beside him started a little.

'It's a trick. If that wound were mortal, she'd be dead by now.' The leader of the Fairy grabbed Angrboda by the hair and pulled back her head, even shook her a little. 'If she, on the other hand, wanted you dead, she'd have turned your bodies into ice and shattered you into smithereens. What's your game, shrew?'

'Will "Resting my cold Jotun self in the legendary warmth of the fairy heart?" provide a satisfying answer?' gasped Angrboda.

The fairy raised his voice to show he was not impressed by her retching, 'You are coming with us to the Bifrost. I don't know, if our realm is to the liking of a Jotun, for the sun is bright and warm indeed. But something tells me the younger prince of Asgard will be on our heels soon, and I'd rather have some - '

'Deal with his brother first, traitors!' shouted Thor, stepping forward. He spun the Mjolnir. 'Stay where you are!'

But the fairies scrambled for their mount like a bunch of scared white mice. Angrboda screamed for Thor to 'Get Loki! In the great hall. Get Loki!'

Thor prepared to attack – and abandoned abruptly, as Fandral threw himself between the hammer and its target. 'Thor, no! Don't use the Mjolnir here, in the center of Asgard's city!'

'Know your place, warrior!' Thor's eyes blazed. 'How dare you question your future king's actions in front of the enemy?'

'Look, Thor, I didn't mean to question you, it was more like an urgent plea in the name of all residents, and besides, they're no longer in front of us – '

There was a loud crashing sound: The fairyphant had grown to its full size and was gaining ground in a series of playful leaps. They would've looked cute on a smaller animal celebrating the joy of life. Watching a thirty foot giant display delight, was downright terrifying.

'This is how the ants must feel when a lamb frolics on the meadow,' said Fandral, shocked.

'I'll get a horse over at that blacksmith's and collar them on the rainbow bridge,' said Thor. 'You heard her: Loki's in the great hall. Go and find him. I may need his magic.'

Long years of habit and training had taught Loki to mask his hurt as the king's first question was for his older son. Frigga would probably know, but Loki carefully avoided looking at her, as he said, 'I do not know Thor's current whereabouts, father. But I have reason to assume that he is alive and, most likely, on his way here. As to your second question, I have a theory on what came to pass - '

He gave his report on what he had witnessed, seen and overheard, while the fairies inspected the hall. Of course, he did not mention Angrboda's second attempt at stealing the casket. The story worked well enough without that detail.

'Dark cousins,' Odin mused aloud. 'Dark cousins. Of fairies. Frigga, my wife? What do you make of it?'

'There is a prophecy,' said Frigga. 'About the Dark Elves returning to the nine realms, seeking power and world dominance.'

'The dark elves,' said Loki. 'I've heard of them. But what about the catalyst? I always understood that there's a mysterious substance needed for them to make their re-entrance to this plane of existence?'

'There is,' affirmed Frigga. 'Or at least, there should be.'

'We ought to take a good look at the prophecy,' said Odin. 'No portents have been observed of late. But it is still conceivable that crucial events are about to converge. The passing of power from one king of Asgard to his heir is always a time of great changes, of omens and, sometimes, cataclysmic events. Once your brother - '

'Enough!' The angry cry made everyone look up. 'That does it! This is as far as it goes, King Odin, and not one single flap shall be added!'

At first, Loki half thought that he himself had finally blundered at guarding his own tongue and shouted. The words were so much what he wanted to hurl at his father for bringing up the topic of Thor, precious Thor, Royal Thor again.

Then, he realized that the voice had come from the window and everyone was looking that way to see - a harpy perched in the opening.

It was a rather ruffled looking harpy, radiating righteous indignation.

'My lady,' Odin started. 'What is it?'

'Aaargh! It is an outrage, a nasal assault - ' The harpy hopped to the floor and made its waddling way toward Odin. Its rump waved from side to side like a scandalized duck walking. Its crone mouth was thin-lipped, and the beady mouse eyes bright with fury.

Odin tried again, tenting his fingers, 'If you would tell us, what happened – '

The harpy shot Loki a malicious look. Loki replied by signaling desperately, No!, meaning in full transcription, I'll give you anything you want, just don't tell them about Angrboda and me sneaking off and talking by the willow.

'Your son, my king!' said the harpy with dark triumph. 'Your son happened.'

Loki stopped signaling, which, of course, was a message in itself, namely, You had your chance. Now, I'll kill you.

'Loki?' asked Odin.

The harpy gave Loki a disdainful look, 'This one? Oh, of course he had me going to lengths, staying up all night and waddling for miles on foot - and look at my feet, do they seem made for walking? - to keep up with the news, and of course I got ridiculed, mistreated, ruffled, and I froze my tail feathers. But the other one – the other one, I say, – ' Its indignant voice failed.

'What about Thor?'

The harpy inhaled, then seemed to falter, then it inhaled again and blurted out, 'He used me as a hanky!'

There was stunned silence.

Odin leaned forward, 'A... hanky,' he said slowly.

Loki made a curious sound, like he was trying to hawk up a live blow-fly that got caught in his throat.

The harpy nodded gravely.

'How?' investigated the king.

'Well, he balled me up like this and – '

Odin briefly wondered how Thor was going to cope with situations like that, once he'd been proclaimed king. 'I see,' he said, nodding sadly. 'No, please, refrain from physically demonstrating – '

'My king!' The door was thrown wide and in stormed Fandral, smoothly dodging the guards who were a little slow recognizing him as a friend, not another threat. 'My king, the fairies have tried to take over Asgard. They cast a spell on everyone, and - ' He stumbled to a halt, gazing at the grotesquely contorted harpy that seemed about to curl in further on itself as he looked on. The harpy poked up its head and glared back, daring him to comment.

'We are aware of that, thank you, warrior,' said Odin, snapping Fandral out of his state of wonder.

'Thor sent me, my king.' Fandral fell to his knee before Odin and bowed his head, fist at his shoulder. 'The fairies have summoned the fairyphant. They are heading for the rainbow bridge as we speak.'

'What do they hope to gain?' asked Odin. 'Heimdall will never open the Bifrost for them.'

Fandral had turned slightly and spoke to Loki, 'They have taken the Lady Angrboda hostage.'

Loki gasped.

'This is bad news, indeed,' said Odin. 'If she were to come to harm in this realm, King Laufey would surely seek retribution.'

'Thor is already in pursuit, my king,' Fandral said.

'So is Loki,' said Frigga, matter-of-factly, as a great 'Aaaargh!' resounded from the walls.

Odin spun just in time to see his younger son go through the window and take to the air. A big, protesting ball of feathers was wedged firmly between Loki's thighs.

'Loki, stop!' Odin shouted, left hand reaching out as if he hoped to grab Loki by the back of his shirt and pull him back into the room. 'That's not some beast to ride! That's – ' He faltered and sat back. 'The Harpy... Delegation...'

'Do you remember the time when those barbarians from the West had taken myself and my sister hostage?' Frigga said, thoughtful. 'You and I were not even married, only courting. But that didn't keep you from carrying battle and revenge into their villages.'

A proud gleam came to the king's one good eye, 'Oh, how I made them all pay for their insolence! No one ever dared snatch you from my side, ever after.'

'No one, my king. Never, ever.' Frigga smiled warmly.

'I see your point, and as always, your counsel is wise, my wife.' Heaving a sigh, Odin got up, 'Well, I'd better go and rescue your sons. Before one of them happens to fall off the Bifrost and get himself killed in the void.'

'That would be your Thor,' Frigga mused to herself. 'Given that the girl doesn't go over the edge headfirst, my Loki is too considerate for that.'

+++End of Chapter 8+++