December has been super busy. Lots of crafty projects, dog-sitting, and planning a trip to England in January! I'm so excited. I still need to get my flu shot to go with the COVID booster though. But I finally got this finished! Enjoy!
"Why don't you want me to come?" said Darcy. "It's a diplomatic mission! This is literally the point of the degree I'm getting."
"As much as I would enjoy your company and the opportunity to introduce you to another realm," said Fandral, who was in the middle of donning a set of heavy winter clothing, "Jotunheim is no place for a mortal. You'd likely freeze to death no matter how many furs you wore, and that's without knowing how the Jotnar would react to a Midgardian appearing on their realm, which is not a subject covered in the truce Odin made with Laufey."
It barely covered a visit like Fandral's, for that matter. He didn't believe Odin was sending him to die, but he also didn't think his king would be very sorry if some deadly mishap befell him on this mission.
Darcy pouted. "Fine, but you're going to be a major primary source for my independent study paper about inter-realm relations."
"It would be my honor," he said, lifting her hand to his lips. She hooked a finger under his chin and nudged him closer so they could kiss properly, which made him regret that he had to depart so soon.
"How much do you know about Jotunheim's history with the Dokkalfar?" she asked.
"Well they were on Asgard's side of that war," he said, returning to tugging on his boots. "Everyone was, except Muspelheim. That's why we want to get them at the table for this. It'll be a good starting point for the alliance Thor wants to build."
"Mm-hmm, but I've been reading about it, and it's really interesting. You might wanna know some of this stuff before you go in front of Laufey's court."
"Oh?" He threw the fur cape around himself and started fiddling with the fastener.
Darcy flung herself to the far edge of the bed and reached for one of the books she'd left scattered across the floor. She pulled it back up and sat cross-legged in her shift while she flicked through the pages. "Okay, so, Kraw the Uncontrollable deliberately sparked a war between Jotunheim and Muspelheim so they'd both be easier to conquer later. His ploy worked so well that the fire of the Rivar nearly made Jotunheim uninhabitable to all the cold-adapted life forms on it."
"How did they survive?" said Fandral.
"Laufey's great-grandfather, Ymir, sacrificed himself to defeat the invading Rivar. The details on how that worked are a little fuzzy, but it's why Ymir's descendants have been royalty to the other Jotnar ever since. The planet just had a bunch of regional ruling clans before that."
"I suppose that's good to know," said Fandral. That kind of claim to the throne would be incredibly strong. It would take more than one generation of bad leadership to erode it.
"Yeah, and then delegations came from lots of the other realms to help rebuild Jotunheim, mostly spearheaded by the House of Bolthorn from Vanaheim. Bolthorn's daughter grew up to marry King Bor—then Crown Prince. She spent so much of her youth on Jotunheim that it's probably why Norse mythology thinks she was Jotun too."
"Queen Bestla, mother of Odin?" said Fandral. He carefully tucked the sealed invitation scroll from Odin to Laufey into his fur-lined surcoat. It was the last of what he needed for the journey. "Fascinating. So there is quite a lengthy history of peaceful relations, then."
"Mm-hmm," said Darcy. "Asgard and Jotunheim were allies longer than you were enemies. You should have a lot to work with."
He thanked her with a good, long kiss before departing her chambers. She was so odd. Aesir maidens were always impressed with his tales of battle above anything. Darcy liked those well enough, but she was much more interested in what he could tell her about the intricacies of politics between the realms. Hopefully all would go well today and he would return with a memorable tale for her.
The full complement of the Gjallarhorn were waiting to accompany him when he set foot outside the palace. This would be Fandral's first time leaving Asgard at the head of the king's heralds. Though they were in the Einherjar, the four soldiers were armed with nothing but golden instruments and Odin's banner. Only the bannerman would've ridden with an ambassador to a friendly realm, while an openly hostile one would merit a few spears in addition to the Gjallarhorn. The truce signed by Laufey and his sons put Jotunheim somewhere in the middle, where it was prudent to announce oneself as loudly and clearly as possible whilst taking care not to come off as threatening.
It had apparently worked well enough for the Allmother's messenger a month ago, and that had been in tenser circumstances, given the need to return three corpses to Jotunheim. This mission could hardly go less well than that, could it? Fandral was bringing good news and an invitation to a Council of the Realms, which Jotunheim had not received in over a millennium!
No matter how oft he repeated this and Darcy's information in his mind as he rode along the Rainbow Bridge, Fandral could not rid himself of a dreadful apprehension, so it came as a welcome surprise indeed when he found more than Heimdall awaiting him in the Observatory. Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg were all there, their intentions plain in the fur cloaks they wore and their lack of weaponry.
"You're here?" he said. His throat had grown so tight at the sight of them that he could scarcely get the words out.
"Of course we are!" said Volstagg.
Fandral turned to Hogun. "But shouldn't you be delivering an invitation to King Njord? He's meant to be at the Council of the Realms too."
"I went last evening," said Hogun. The corners of his mouth lifted in an almost perceptible smile.
"We couldn't let you go to Jotunheim for the first time without us," said Sif, her arms folded.
"Aye, lad," said Volstagg, clapping him on the shoulder, "and Laufey is sure to take four more seriously than one."
X
A chill wind howled over the jagged plains of ice, sweeping flurries of loose snow along the ground and churning the thick gray clouds that obscured the stars. At the outskirts of Utgard, a large herd of hoarfrost boar rooted through snowdrifts for the delicate plant stalks poking through them, watched over absentmindedly by the young swineherd who was more interested in molding intricate shapes out of the ice than minding his charges.
He had just crafted a rough replica of one of the boars and was trying to work out how to improve the tusks when a powerful beam of multicolored light pierced the clouds like a spear and slammed down onto the icy ground less than a mile away. The swineherd yelped and toppled backward off the frozen boulder he'd been perched on while the boars squealed and started bolting in every direction. He scrambled out of the snow and peered around the boulder, heart pounding.
Eight tiny figures now stood on the spot where the light had touched, and notes of a strange song drifted on the wind from their direction. Within seconds, they were answered by the watchtower horns of Utgard, making the swineherd start again. In another minute, the gates opened and two lines of armored drengjar marched out, fetils svell formed around their hands in the shapes of long blades. The lad breathed a little easier at the sight of them but still made no move to pursue the boars. What did the Asgardians want this time? Had anyone else died?
X
This moment could've been straight out of Fandral's childhood nightmares or his adolescent battle fantasies. Strange that his purpose could prove to be so different from anything he had imagined before. He tried not to shiver as he watched the Jotun warriors approaching, so unbothered by the cold that they wore little but greenish faulds and tassets and matching shin guards. Perhaps chest armor wasn't a priority when one's opponents were half one's size at best.
The Gjallarhorn played steadily throughout the Jotnar's approach until they were so near that their synchronized footsteps shook the ground and the Asgardians had to start craning their necks to keep their faces in view. The largest of the warriors, presumably their captain, stuck out an arm and the others halted. "State your purpose," he said in a voice as deep as a drum.
"We come with news and an invitation for your king," said Fandral, holding up the scroll from Odin. "Would you be so kind as to bring us to him? We are unarmed."
"Rygi, go to the king and see if he's in a mood for guests," said the captain without taking his eyes off them. One of the Jotnar at the rear of the formation turned and dashed back the way they'd come. "You four didn't come last time," the captain observed, his eyes roving across Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg, and Sif. "Where's the little errand boy?"
Aric, the royal messenger, would likely not appreciate being described thus, and Fandral chose to ignore that remark. "I am Fandral Ingvarson. I was only recently appointed Asgard's ambassador to Jotunheim. These three are my dearest friends, Lady Sif, Lord Volstagg, and Hogun of Vanaheim. They wished to accompany me on my first visit to your realm."
"First," the captain repeated. The word sounded sour on his tongue. Fandral certainly had his work cut out for him.
"Yes," he said, flashing a cheeky grin. "I hope you will come to look forward to the sight of me." That didn't get so much as a twitch from the corner of the captain's mouth, though Fandral could practically hear Sif rolling her eyes at him.
Rygi returned quickly with orders for them to be brought before Laufey at once. The captain made a gesture and the other soldiers moved to flank them with surprising speed. It felt much more like they were being marched to a dungeon than to visit royalty, and they had to jog to keep up with the Jotnar's strides.
Once they were inside the gates of Utgard, they caught glimpses of other Jotnar through the legs of their escorts. A lot of other Jotnar, in fact. Old and young, male and female, skin tones ranging from powder blue to dark navy, all watching them pass by in silence. Fandral noticed that the children were the only ones with full heads of hair. The women had shaved the sides of their heads and wore the rest of their hair in intricate plaits, but the grown men were all shaved completely bald.
The general fashion appeared to be skirts and kilts of cloth or leather paired with something like short stays for the women. Most of the jewelry in evidence was made of ice, and the amount varied greatly from person to person. Fandral found himself wishing they weren't being rushed along so much; he'd have liked the freedom to observe the crowd more carefully.
"Last time, nobody was out and about," said the bannerman in Fandral's ear. "Seems the common folk have decided we're not too dangerous to be a spectacle this time."
"A good sign, I hope," he replied.
Before long, they reached the palace and were led inside. It didn't stand out from the other buildings made of ice nearly as dramatically as Gladsheim did from its surroundings on Asgard, and it wasn't so much as a degree warmer indoors than out. The captain rapped his knuckles on the largest pair of doors they'd seen yet, which opened from the inside with a sound like a glacier cracking.
"The ambassadors from Asgard, Sire," said the captain, inclining his head.
"Let them enter," an even deeper voice replied from within. They prodded Fandral and the others forward. Once everyone was inside, the soldiers all dropped to one knee and touched their ice blades to the floor. Fandral and the others took the cue to bow low, though without putting fists to hearts as they would before their own royalty.
Laufey's throne room was dim enough that they almost had to squint even with all the time they'd had for their eyes to adjust. Something like a chandelier hung from the ceiling, but the crystals set into it barely gave off any light. Menacing guards stood on either side of the doors, carrying weapons of ice just like the soldiers. Proportionally, Laufey's throne was much higher off the ground than Hlidskjalf, putting the Jotun king almost completely in shadow above them.
Fandral was so focused on trying to get a good look at Laufey that he nearly jumped when Hogun touched his shoulder. The Vanr nodded his head in the direction of the raised alcoves to either side of the throne, where two more Jotnar stood. If he had to guess, Fandral would put them both at younger than two thousand years, though by how much was hard to tell. The one at Laufey's right stood straight, eyes forward, while the other leaned against the base of the throne, arms crossed, and watched the Asgardians with a raised eyebrow. Unlike all the other men, his head wasn't fully shaved. He had enough black hair grown out on the crown of his head to pull back into a wolftail. Were these two Helblindi and Byleistr? Something about their faces was oddly familiar.
"After a thousand years, what official business could bring Asgardians to my court twice in thirty days?" said Laufey. His tone was civil, if only just, but the way his voice rumbled over them from above combined with the dim lighting of the chamber made it feel rather sinister. Was that by design or merely an inevitable consequence of their differences in size and light sensitivity? Fandral certainly hadn't felt this small on brief visits to Nidavellir.
"Laufey-King," he said, "thank you for allowing this audience. We come at the Allfather's behest to bring you news of an old enemy of both our realms."
He could just make out Laufey's face enough to see an eyebrow lift over a crimson eye. "What enemy?"
"The Dokkalfar."
The word set off a chorus of shocked and angry murmurs among the soldiers around them. The prince to the right of the throne glanced down at them for the first time, a deep frown on his face, and the prince to the left stood up a little straighter. Fandral was glad for what Darcy had told him.
Laufey raised a hand and all muttering ceased. "Explain."
"Like you, we believed them all destroyed a lifetime ago," said Fandral, "but we discovered Malekith's ship, cloaked and awaiting the next Convergence to make another play for Yggdrasil. Yesterday we battled them, crippled their ship, and took all survivors captive. We have come to offer you a seat at tonight's Council of the Realms, amongst Jotunheim's old allies, to take part in deciding their fate."
"'Amongst Asgard's pawns' would be a more honest description," said Laufey. "Any of whom might decide that eliminating the Jotun king is the perfect gesture to incur the goodwill of the Allfather."
"Basic hospitality dictates that any who comes to Asgard at the Allfather's invitation has his protection," said Sif, almost succeeding in hiding her indignation.
"Yes," said Fandral. "Jotun-sized accommodations are being prepared as we speak for you and whatever retinue you deem appropriate, with suitably dim lighting and cold temperatures for your comfort."
"If the Allfather is so eager to accommodate me in his home, why not bring the entire summit here instead?" said Laufey. It was a preposterous offer and the giant knew it.
Volstagg chuckled nervously and there was a noise that made Fandral think Hogun might have elbowed Sif to stop her reacting. "I'm sure my king will appreciate your generous proposal," said Fandral. "However, as Asgard's princes led the battle against the Dokkalfar and our soldiers continue to keep guard over the prisoners, it is our duty and honor to host the other realms in this matter."
"Then it appears both our offers will be refused, Asgardian."
"Father, if you won't go yourself, send me," said the giant to the left of the throne. Instantly the tone in the chamber became even colder. The soldiers all stiffened where they stood and Laufey's hands curled into fists over the arms of his throne.
"Silence, Byleistr," hissed the prince on the right. That would make him Helblindi, then, Crown Prince of Jotunheim. "Father didn't give you leave to speak."
Byleistr scowled. "Don't pretend you agree, Brother. You can't believe we should throw away a chance like this. And Father would surely risk my life sooner than his own, so everyone gets what they want if I go." His open defiance was shocking to see. Having been close to Asgard's princes as long as he could remember, Fandral knew the royal family was not always in perfect harmony, but their disagreements were not for public display and certainly not before representatives of a foreign realm. Was Byleistr an utter fool or was Laufey unable to command his son's respect at all?
"Are you a child to speak out of turn?" Laufey growled. "You shame Ymir's legacy, Byleistr."
"I?" said Byleistr, deep purple blooming across his face. "Not the one who can't be bothered to pass judgment on the enemy he gave his life to stop?"
"OUT!" Laufey roared—so loud that Fandral feared the chandelier might shatter and rain ice crystals on their heads. Byleistr left without another word, throwing one last look at the visitors before disappearing into a side corridor. Laufey leaned back in his throne again. "Return the Asgardians to the Bifrost site, Captain." His abrupt return to calm was unsettling.
"Yes, sire," said the captain.
"I shall take your regrets to the Allfather," said Fandral, happy that they wouldn't have to continue watching this family dispute but hoping he could at least salvage their exit. "Would you like to be informed of the Council's decision?"
"If you are so desperate to return," said Laufey.
X
As soon as the Asgardians were gone, Helblindi left the throne room. He was supposed to be present for Father's meetings with the southern lords, but those would last hours and he had to find Byleistr before Father could. Jarnvidja was waiting in the corridor. Father never let women into the throne room, not even one betrothed to his heir. "Did you see—?"
"He went to his chambers, I think," she said. He started in that direction and she kept pace with him. "What did the Asgardians want this time?"
"They discovered a hidden Dokkalfar ship."
Her hand shot out to clutch his arm. "Dokkalfar? That's not possible."
He covered her fingers with his own. "Evidently it is, but they are Asgard's prisoners now." They exchanged an unsettled glance at this. Asgard had been the axe blade hanging over their heads since they were youths. To have it aimed at someone who'd wreaked far more damage upon Jotunheim generations ago shouldn't be this much of a relief, yet it was. "The ambassador came to invite Jotunheim to the Council of the Realms to decide what should be done about them."
"But that's good, isn't it?"
Helblindi grimaced. "It is if we can trust them. Father doesn't. He refused."
"So that's why Byleistr looked so furious."
"He's not wrong, but he shouldn't have challenged Father's judgment in front of the Asgardians. He makes us appear weak."
They had reached the door to Byleistr's chambers. He pushed it open. "Brother?"
Byleistr stood at the window, looking out. He turned at their entrance, but there was something off about the movement. Helblindi frowned. "Sorry, Blindi," said Byleistr. His outline started to glow silvery blue. "I can't let him do this to Jotunheim."
Helblindi's eyes went wide. "By, what've you done?"
"See you when I get back from Asgard. I hope." The blue light swept over him, leaving nothing behind.
X
Byleistr waited at the spot where the Bifrost had touched down. A young swineherd had pointed him in the right direction once he was outside the city walls, and the black knotwork etched into the ice had been easy to spot after that, even partially covered by fresh snow.
Captain Nati and his patrol came marching out a moment later with the Asgardians between them.
"Byleistr-Prince," said Nati, stopping short.
"I'm going to that summit, Nati," said Byleistr.
"You are?" blurted one of the Asgardians.
"Yes, your highness," said Nati, ignoring him. "But…alone?"
"Unless any of your men want to volunteer to be my guard."
The captain turned to his drengjar. "Well?"
Two of them stepped forward and dropped to one knee. "Our lives for yours, your highness."
"Good," said Byleistr, gesturing for them to rise. He looked down at the Asgardians. "To Asgard?"
"Er, certainly," said the ambassador. "If you'll just join us here." They moved to stand on the knotwork design. Byleistr and the two drengjar joined them. They had to stand rather close together. The ambassador cleared his throat. "Heimdall? We're ready!"
Welcome to Jotunheim! How'd Fandral do? All is not well in the House of Laufey. Yes, I gave Byleistr Sokka's hairdo. Is there a word for that besides wolftail? I kinda don't want there to be one. I've got this vague idea that one's position in line for the throne of Jotunheim is denoted by amount of hair shaved off. So Loki unintentionally has the right hair for being third in line. I'm definitely going to have to draw some Jotnar at some point. Particularly Byleistr and one of the women, because I like how their hair and outfits look in my head. The "short stays" the Jotun women wear are basically simple corsets that come down to the bottom of the ribcage at the lowest (like Regency-era corsets). I used the word "stays" instead of "corsets" because the latter sounds a lot more sexualized, but these are just practical, supportive articles of clothing for the most part.
This chapter merits some glossary terms. "Drengjar" has popped up before but that was ages ago. It's the word I picked to be the Jotun equivalent of Einherjar. In Norse Mythology, "Jotun" is kind of a catch-all term for giants, applying to the fire giants too, but since Jotunheim and Muspelheim are separate planets in the MCU, that didn't really make sense to me, but another Old Norse word for giant is "Rivar," so I gave that one to the fire giants. "Fetils svell" is "sword of ice." Gerd mentioned those back when she started training Loki to use his frjosleikr. Hoarfrost is the tiny ice crystals that form on plants and buildings overnight in winter, and I thought I could make a Jotun-sounding animal name by slapping it next to the name of a regular animal. Picture dark blue boars about the size of rhinos.
Helblindi has a fiancee and Byleistr can do illusions! (He's not as good as Loki.) I'm very fond of both of them already.
Couldn't be happier with Hawkeye or Spider-Man: No Way Home. We're getting quality Christmas Marvel content, and I'm actually grudgingly hyped for Morbius now.
Quick PSA: please consider switching over to following this fic on Ao3 since this site's reliability is increasingly questionable and also you get to see occasional illustrations!