The end of the spear, that was honed nearly as sharp as a razor, glinted with an evil shine in the sunlight.

That was the last time, Fandrall swore, that he trusted Odin or Frigga with passing on information to the necessary people. Even if they were on a secret mission.

Perhaps next time he should turn down one such task. Ignoring the fact that they were his sovereigns, he wasn't in their direct line of order.

Or perhaps he could move to Alfheim. Many things over there were just right for his taste. Wine, women...

"I'm telling you, Brunnhilde," Sif said, growing impatient by the minute and irritated with the number of spears pointed at them held by the fair-haired women, whom he could never in his life charm, "He was sent for by Queen Frigga which approved of by King Odin."

"Why should we believe you? How can we know that he hadn't slithered his way into your mind to persuade you to tell his lies for him?" she hissed. The shieldmaiden barked a laugh in answer.

"You didn't just seriously say that to me."

Two Valkiryes behind Brunnhilde looked at each other, uncertain. Loki smiled at them serenely.

"She does have a point there."

"Ladies, if you had just gone to ask him or the Queen, they could have already certified what we said," Volstagg said as he stepped forward, only slightly unnerved by the numerous weapons standing between them and the end of their job. And by the stars and Odin's beard he wanted it to be over. Sleeping in the rain was not his particular idea of effective rest, especially when one was dealing with a slimy bastard like Loki. Slippery as a snake with just as venom to spit. Not to mention that his horse was in a particularly biting mood in the last days, proven by a big ugly red mark in his upper arm.

"I always knew you had the most sense," the Trickster chirped.

"Shut up, Loki."

Just for a second Brunnhilde reddened as she met his gaze, then nodded at the youngest warrior in her group who bowed and quickly left, leaving them in uncomfortable silence.

"They are telling the truth," she reported as soon as she returned, somewhat out of breath, "We are to let them through right away."

"Oh, cheer up Brunnhilde," Loki said as she saw her scowl, "It is a nice day. Why would you spend it angry?"

The throne room was just as grand and glittering as when he was exiled to the Isle of Silence. The Einjahr stood just as rigid, and quite possibly in the very same place.

Odin, however appeared much smaller and older. He willfully relaxed his hands and shoulders as he met his gaze, faintly sensing that his guards knelt before their liege Lord.

"My King," Sif spoke, her head bowed, "We brought him. As promised."

"How did you escape?" Odin asked without a remark to his warriors. Loki straightened his back, forcing himself not to look around for Frigga.

"Your inescapable prison is not as inescapable as you believed."

"You answer without trying to dodge the truth if I ask you," the king bellowed, bangin Grungir on the floor.

"You know how I did it," Loki answered, trying to open his arms, then realising they were still bound. He stuck his chin out in defiance as a substitute, "What would be the point?"

"You remain as insolent as when you've left, I see. Perhaps I should send you back to the Island. You'd find it much changed."

"And lose the only remaining hope you have to find your so precious heir?" he asked with a chuckle, "Would you do that? Really? No. Perhaps it's not fatherly love what's driving your actions, but not even you'd do that."

"Very well, then," Odin nodded, "You'll begin at dawn. You shall have all the help you need. If you're lucky, you'll receive your due reward. If not..."

"Back to the Island with me, right?"

"Quite so," said the sovereign, reclining back in his state, "Take him away. I don't want to see him until tomorrow."

His room remained unchanged, at least in the illusion he had created in the cell, with the descending sun shining through the windows and the birds yelling outside of the walls.

"A pleasant imagery," a voice called. Loki turned on his other side.

"I thought I wasn't to see you."

"You're not. But technically I'm not even here. Ask any servant and I'm in my room, sewing."

"I'd have to run into a servant for that. Why are you here?"

Frigga wore a soft blue robe that was rustling slightly as she moved to his bed, scrutinising his face as he watched hers. The covers shifted with her weight coming down on them and swept a lock of hair from his face. Just some of the little touches he usually never bothered with – weight and materiality. Presence.

"I simply wished to see you."

"And now you have."

"Yes," there was a flash of amusement on her face, "Volstagg told me you wanted to turn them into frogs."

"Or something the like. Are you satisfied?"

"I'd be, if you were a child again, hiding behind my skirt from your brother."

"And so we have arrived to Thor," Loki answered sourly as he stood up, "How is it that every time sooner or later he is the focus of attention even when he is not there?"

"He is part of you and you are part of him. That is why I believe you can find him. And so I'm happy, as..."

"I'm not here for Thor! Or you. I'm here solely for me, based on a dubious promise made by your husband. If you wish to talk about him, I have a list of names of people better equipped for the task."

Frigga bit her lips, then shook her head. This did not go as she had planned.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to talk to Odin about your accommodations. You are supposed to be our guest, not a prisoner."

"Do as you wish," Loki said with a sigh.

With her eyes glinting as tears dwelled up, Frigga's image flashed golden, then vanished.

His rooms were unchanged, and most of all, spotless. Except for the smell of a familiar perfume, as if the Queen of Asgard herself would have done the daily cleaning.

He fell back on his bed with a sigh, watching the last rays of the sun disappear from the window, trying hard to ignore the chill of his left hand.

Sleep never came.

Shortie. This is quite a short one.