Sif cried out in agony and pulled her feet back, jumping from one to the other as she tried to shake off the pain.

"Sif!"

She was uncertain who called out, thinking it might be all three of her friends, before Fandral was beside her.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "What happened?"

"I tripped," Sif replied, before her voice dropped to a devastated whisper. "It happened when I tried to act to injure the guard."

"Oh," Fandral said softly. "So they do still work."

Obviously. The realization pained Sif far more than her feet. She had been so certain Loki's seiðr would not be able to hold so far - he had always complained of the dökkálfar not sharing their knowledge! - she had not been prepared for an escape attempt not to be possible. She had been so focused on escaping, on being able todosomething, she had not allowed herself to truly consider it could fail and she could be stuck as a slave, unable to do anything until Óðinn awoke. The helplessness which swamped her as a result was paralyzing.

"What happened?" one of the laborers demanded.

"'Twas an accident," Fandral replied. "She tripped over one of the uneven cobblestones."

"Do you need a healer?" a different voice demanded. "Honestly?"

"Nay," Sif replied before she had even thought about it.

"Take a break," one of their guides offered. "Then you work until noon."

"Thank you," Fandral responded.

Sif wished to sneer at him for being polite to their captors. Who was happy to utilize slave labor? If they were proper æsir, they would refuse to utilize them. Though, then they would be stuck in the dungeons all day and Sif was not certain she would prefer that over being out here for most of the day, even if she had to perform menial chores. Besides, if there were no demand for their labor, then Loki might be more able to demand their execution instead, as it would look like he had attempted another solution. She was also no longer certain people other than Thor and their own families would protest such a decision, ungrateful cretins that they were.

Altogether, Sif was no longer certain how to feel about any of it.

"Come," Fandral urged, leading her back towards the cart so she could sit on it.

"You tripped?" Volstagg questioned, doubtfully, as soon as he and Hogun joined them.

"She was attempting to see if we could injure the guards deliberately," Fandral explained. "As a means to test whether the collars worked here."

"A good means of doing so," Volstagg said.

"So, what do we do now?" Sif asked, glancing up at her friend.

"I do not believe there is anything we can do, but wait for Óðinn to awaken," Fandral replied.

"Ifhe does."

"We must remain optimistic," Volstagg responded.

"Aye, but will Loki allow him to awaken?" Hogun asked. "He is king now and will remain so should Óðinn die, we all heard Thor."

"'Tis too good of an opportunity for Loki to not attempt something," Sif agreed.

Helplessness swamped her once more. Here they were, being forced to perform manual labor while Ásgarðr's true king was in mortal peril and its crown prince was bewitched to believe all was well. 'Twas beyond frustrating!

"We are officially still at war with Jötunheimr, even with the negotiations," Fandral stated. "Which means both Óðinn and Loki will be heavily guarded. Even Thor has had Einherjar with him every time he has come to see us. In addition, Óðinn will be heavily monitored by Lady Eir and, I am certain, Queen Frigga is with Óðinn as well. It would not be easy for Loki to interfere."

"Still, 'tis what Loki has always desired, he will not sit by and be idle," Sif argued.

"There is nothing we can do."

"Well there should be!"

"Sif," Volstagg suddenly said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Your father."

Startled, Sif turned her head to look, and she did indeed catch sight of her father approaching them along with her least favorite aunt, the one who had pushed most for her to become a healer like herself and Sif's mother. What was she doing here? Sif knew 'twas not to see her as they had not spoken for centuries, so it could only be to support her brother, but why would Father need support to come visit her? And why was he doing so here, in public?

Sif had done her best to ignore them but, ever since they had arrived, there had been a steady stream of onlookers who had clearly come to simply witness them being punished. Their numbers increased and decreased moment to moment, but there were always at least a few people and, right now, 'twas closer to a dozen. She had no desire for her personal life to go on public display even more than it already was.

After a quick word with one of the guards, her father and aunt were permitted close. The smirk on the guard's face only raised her concern even further and now she was very uncomfortable, but she forced herself onto her aching feet once more so she could step forwards.

"Father," she tried to smile. "Aunt A-"

"This is not a social visit," Father interrupted. "I am here to determine precisely how far my shame extends."

The words made her flinch even as they awakened her anger. Why could her father not support her even once? He had not even asked her for her side of the tale, simply taking Loki's words at face value. Did he truly not know her at all?

"Father," Sif began.

"We shall see. Sister?"

Stunned, Sif could only stare at her father as her aunt stepped forwards and orange seiðr swelled around her fingers.

"What are you doing?" Sif demanded, but was ignored. "What is she doing, Father?"

"What I should have had her check when King Loki first professed not to have altered your hair color, but to have merely removed an enchantment."

"He lied!"

"We shall see."

See? See what? Sif had no idea what her father thought he would find here. And what did Loki's trick with her hair have to do with anything?

Completely confused, Sif looked over at her friends, only to find her own lack of comprehension written across their faces as well. Beyond them, however, she could see some of the guards and local residents, all of whom were watching closely. It made her feel oddly naked, so she turned back to her father and aunt, the latter of whom had just finished uttering a spell. Seiðr shot towards both her and her father, circling them once before rushing together to intertwin, at which point the seiðr turned an angry red before dissipating.

"No match," her aunt said. "She is not yours."

Not his? Not his what?

Sif could only watch in confusion as her father's face clouded over, looking thunderous for a moment before it cleared and became the horribly blank mask Sif associated with politicians.

"I see," he said, nodding once. "King Loki was correct then, 'twas a geas to cuckold me."

"Cuckold?" Sif repeated. "Father, what is going on? What was that seiðr?"

"'Twas a familial spell," Father stated. "Meant to test if two people are related. We are not."

"What?"

It... that... Sif blinked in incomprehension as she struggled to understand what her father had just said. They were not related? But how could that be? He was her father!

"Nay, it must be wrong," Sif babbled as soon as comprehension dawned. "There has been a mistake!"

"I do not make mistakes," her aunt claimed immediately. "Not with my seiðr."

"You hate me! How do I know you did not do it on purpose?"

"My sister would not lie to me thus," Father stated. "And this makes far more sense. I always thought your mother had strayed while I was on Jötunheimr during the war. The bastard had dark hair too, so of course she had to disguise yours, otherwise her infidelity and dishonor would have been obvious!"

"I am not a bastard!" Sif protested.

To be born out of wedlock... 'twas a great shame.

"Normally that would have been the greater shame," her father continued on. "But, given the circumstances, 'tis less than actually having you as mine!"

"Father!" Sif exclaimed, before a thought occurred to her. "Loki, it has to be him, he did something to me to make the spell react as it did! He-"

"Enough! Stop blaming King Loki for all of your own faults and shortcomings, you have been doing it for centuries."

"I have not!"

"Norns, but I am glad not to have to claim you as mine anymore. A millennium has been more than long enough!"

The words were like a slap in the face and Sif stepped back in reflex. Nay, he could not mean!

"Papa?" she asked, involuntarily.

"Nay, your decision to become a warrior was bad enough, your constant prideful actions even more, but this outright treason of the present? That I could not tolerate and now I no longer need to," he stated loudly. "Sif, formerly Hermóðrdóttir and formerly lady and Einherjar, I hereby renounce you. You never should have been a Hermóðrdóttir and 'twas only through the deceptions and lies of your mother, to hide her own dishonor, that you were. This ends now and henceforth you will be known as Sif no father, unwanted and unclaimed."

"Careful now," Volstagg protested, suddenly beside her with a supportive arm over her shoulder. "You raised her from infancy, are you truly claiming to have no bond with her, blood or no blood?"

"None which can withstand the shame of claiming relation with a níðingr," her... Hermóðr snapped back.

The sudden rush of commotion around her reminded Sif of their audience and she tried to tamp down on her feelings. 'Twas hard, though, as she felt like her whole world was falling apart. Not only was the man she had always believed to be her father unrelated to her, but he was publicly denouncing her and utterly ruining any chance she had at ever reclaiming her rightful status in court. For even if Loki were unsuccessful in his attempts to claim Hliðskjálf permanently, Óðinn would never allow her to be a lady once more, not with this.

"It explains a lot, though," her aunt stated. "Bad blood always shows through."

Despite her best efforts, Sif felt her eyes fill with tears and she turned into Volstagg's embrace, clutching at him and attempting to block out all else.

"Uncle Vé," Thor said, making Loki look up to find the man standing outside the back entrance to the Great Hall.

"Thor, Loki," Uncle Vé greeted. "I wished to quickly inform you of something I heard happened earlier today, in case 'tis mentioned tonight."

"Anything serious?" Loki asked with a frown.

"Not for us, but it will spread through court like wildfire and I thought Thor, in particular, might appreciate being prewarned."

"I dread to ask," Thor said, sharing a look with Loki.

"It concerns your... friends."

Loki frowned once more. "They had their first day out of the dungeons today, did they not?"

"Aye, and 'twas when I had a report from Councillor Vör that I first heard of what happened," Uncle Vé explained. "It would seem that Lord Hermóðr utilized the opportunity to visit his daughter."

"Surely 'tis allowed," Thor said, before looking at him. "Are they denied visitors?"

"Nay," Loki reassured. "And I would expect Volstagg's family, in particular, to take advantage as children are not permitted in the dungeons."

"The only restriction we placed on it was that the visits had to occur during breaks in their work," Uncle Vé added. "To prevent it from being used as a means to avoid their tasks."

"'Tis reasonable," Loki said. "What transpired during the visit?"

"A blood spell."

"Blood spell?" Thor exclaimed. "Lord Hermóðr tried to break her free?"

"Nay," Loki countered. "A blood spell is used to determine familial connections. Mostly, 'tis utilized to determine paternity."

Oh.

Loki thought he might see where this was going.

"Sif is not truly Hermóðrdóttir, is she?" he asked.

"What?" Thor demanded.

"Nay," Uncle Vé confirmed. "She is not."

"But... but..." Thor sputtered.

"'Twas why she had the spell over her hair," Loki realized. "At first I had assumed 'twas vanity, but her reaction when I removed it was far too shocked for that. This makes more sense; her mother must have done it."

"It would seem that is what Lord Hermóðr thought as well," Uncle Vé confirmed. "Something of a dark-haired potential lover around the time of the war."

Loki winced at the thought. Aye, he could see why Lord Hermóðr might have reacted ill to that particular discovery. The timing was quite telling, though, and it left him in no doubt of what else had transpired, or why Lord Hermóðr had done this so publicly."

"He disowned her, did he not?" Loki asked.

"Aye, completely," Uncle Vé said.

"But 'tis not her fault!" Thor protested.

"It hardly matters," Uncle Vé replied, softly. "His shame and dishonor are the same."

"So why reveal it now? Or seek to confirm it now, Loki removed the enchantment centuries ago!"

Loki felt a flash of anger rush through him at the words and how easily his brother said them now.Loki removed the enchantment.He had bled for Thor's refusal to believe 'twas all he had done. His brother attempting to punish him for what he had dared to do to their friend. The memory was still perfectly formed in Loki's mind as it had been when he had fully realized exactly where he stood with regards to his brother and Thor's friends. It had been a bitter realization and one which still hurt even now, despite knowing Thor stood with him and not them.

"The treason, I believe," Uncle Vé said. "While she was in good standing, it would have hurt Lord Hermóðr more for people to know he had been cuckolded, but now she has been convicted of treason, well..."

The way Thor deflated told Loki his brother understood only all too well. As for him, well his own feelings of victory were somewhat tainted by his sense of kinship. He knew what it felt like to suddenly discover you were not who you thought you were and, while Sif was in no danger as a result like he was now, the comparison remained too great. Not even the knowledge she would have used the truth of his birth and heritage against him in the most lethal way, allowed him to fully savor this outcome.

It mattered little in the end, though, as he had enough other victories to savor as far as the former Warriors Four were concerned.

"I assume 'twas witnessed?" Loki asked, recalling what his uncle had said of it spreading.

"Aye, Lord Hermóðr apparently made a point of it being known."

"Thank you for informing us. How did the work itself go?"

"As well as can be expected," Uncle Vé said. "There was rather more resistance after Lord Hermóðr's visit than before, but the collars did their duty."

"I wish they were not necessary," Thor winced.

"They are not," Loki replied. "If they cooperate, then 'tis not necessary to make use of the collars. Were there any escape attempts?"

"None were reported," Uncle Vé replied.

Which meant they had been discrete about it. If it were not so hypocritical of them, Loki would be impressed. For he did not doubt for an instant they had not at least made one single attempt to either test the collars or try to escape. He almost wished he had been there to witness it.

"Thank you for informing us, Uncle Vé," Thor said. "I would not have liked to have been caught off-guard."

"Hmm," Loki agreed, though his reaction would have been far less telling.

Uncle Vé smiled before moving aside to allow Loki to pass and enter the Great Hall first.

As soon as they were returned to their cell, Fandral lowered himself to the ground with a groan. Every single muscle in his body ached, much as it did after a particularly grueling training session with General Týr. Who knew road repair could be such hard work? Surely there had to be a better way to do it than manually? Or was that part of their punishment, to do it this way? He would not put it past Loki to do so, yet it also seemed like a step too far if he was not around to witness it himself.

"I want a bath," Sif stated from her cell.

Fandral laughed. "Careful or they will come hose you down."

"Ugh."

"How do they wash prisoners?" Volstagg asked.

"Sonic beams," Heimdallr's voice drifted over from his cell.

"Sonic beams? Is that not what they do on Múspellsheimr?" Fandral asked.

"Aye, 'tis where we obtained the technology, but it never became popular," Heimdallr explained. "Except for use in the dungeons."

"Expediency over comfort or choice," Sif groaned. "My muscles have bruises."

Fandral laughed again, knowing exactly what she meant. "I think we owe the guy an apology about laughing at his assessment of how hard we would work."

"I assume your escape attempt failed?" Heimdallr asked.

"It never started," Volstagg replied. "Sif's test of the collars utterly failed."

"That does not invalidate the attempt."

"Nay, but it does limit our options rather severely," Sif replied.

"Options? What options?" Fandral asked. "With the no escape order, anything we even attempt is likely to end much as your attempt to merely injure a guard did."

As he said it, Fandral raised his head just enough to look at his friend and the expression which crossed her face spoke far louder than words.

"We cannot give up," Hogun stated.

"'Tis not what I said, but we would need a plan which cannot cause us harm or injury should the collars react adversely to it," Fandral replied. "Otherwise, who knows what will happen if they interfere with it."

Though not cold, the ground was hard and unforgiving and soon Fandral rolled onto his side. He wondered if there was any chance of obtaining a bed, or even simply a mattress, in the cells. He had never seen any before, but he had not been looking for them either as the thought had simply never even entered his mind.

"What is wrong?" Heimdallr asked.

As Sif was the only one of them the gatekeeper could see, Fandral glanced at her cell to see her rubbing furiously at her face.

"Nothing," she lied, turning away.

"Something has clearly happened."

"I said 'twas nothing!" Sif snapped.

"Do we need to isolate you?" a new voice demanded, and Fandral was surprised to find a guard near their cells.

Neither Sif nor Heimdallr replied, Sif not even turning around, no doubt not wishing to show weakness, and Heimdallr was not the most verbose at the best of times.

"What do you want?" Volstagg demanded.

"You have visitors," the guard said, looking at Fandral and ignoring Volstagg entirely. "Up."

Before Fandral could even think about it, he was on his feet. Norns, that felt weird, and he did not think he would ever become accustomed to his body obeying commands other than his own.

"You two, stay," the guard continued, glancing at both Volstagg and Hogun.

Not wanting to be ordered around any more than necessary, Fandral moved to the energy barrier and stepped out as soon as 'twas lowered. He then waited until the guard was ready before walking ahead of him down the corridor. After what had happened with Sif's father earlier, he was irrationally afraid to see his parents, though he knew they would never disown him. Despite that, he was looking forward to seeing them, his mother in particular as all she had been able to do the last time was cry for fear he would be executed. His father had remained silent, though Fandral had been able to tell he was furious with him.

They soon reached the receiving chamber and, the moment the door was opened, Fandral could see his parents waiting for him.

"Fandral!" his mother cried, moving right for him and pulling him into an embrace.

"Mother," he replied, returning her embrace.

Until he did so, he had not realized how much a part of him had feared he would never see her again but for the trial after their last meeting. Though he had hoped Loki would not have them executed, it had remained a possibility and 'twas not until now he realized how much he had feared that possibility without allowing himself to acknowledge it. He briefly tightened his hold on his mother, before he let her go.

"Father," he said, looking at the man.

"Fandral," Father replied, appraising him. "Is it true what they say of those collars? Are they steeped in restraining seiðr?"

"Ah, aye," Fandral replied, reaching up to touch the collar self-consciously.

'Twas surprising how cumbersome the collar was, always getting in the way when he wished to lower his head or lie down to sleep. The knowledge 'twas the cause of the guards' power over him also made him want to tear at it until he managed to remove it, though he knew he never could. Hogun had spent hours the first evening examining every inch of both the collar and the manacles, desperately attempting to find some weakness or flaw to exploit.

His friend had found none.

"Are you alright?" Mother asked. "You are moving stiffly."

"'Tis merely from the labor I did today," Fandral rushed to reassure her. "Nothing more."

"Good," she replied, before she slapped him.

"Mother!" Fandral exclaimed, taking a step back as he raised his hand to his cheek. "What was that for?"

"What was it for?" she demanded, voice rising sharply. "You committed treason and were nearly executed for it! What by the Nine were you thinking?"

"I... but Loki-"

"KingLoki!" Father thundered, eyes flashing. "Use his proper title before he changes his mind and your mother has to watch you lose your head!"

Loki was not nearly so fickle, not once he had made up his mind, Fandral knew, but now was not the time to mention it.

"King Loki should not be on Hliðskjálf," Fandral said.

"Again, with this nonsense! Where is this coming from?"

"Is it that woman?" Mother asked.

"Woman?" Fandral repeated. "Do you mean Sif?"

"Aye, I cannot remember the last time I saw someone so disrespectful towards a member of the royal family, let alone the king," she replied. "Is it normal for her?"

"Remember, we spend a lot of time with King Loki and Thor."

"Prin-" his father began.

"Nay," Fandral interrupted, fed up with the near interrogation. Why could his parents not understand? Surely what Loki had done should be obvious to everyone. "Thor has long since insisted we do not use their titles amongst ourselves."

"Prince Thor?" Father inquired. "He decided for King Loki?"

"Of course, he is the elder."

"Is it true what they say?" Mother asked. "Is she envious of King Loki because of his close relationship with Prince Thor? Does she fancy herself a future bride and queen of Ásgarðr?"

"What? Nay!" Fandral replied, only just realizing General Týr had not been exaggerating earlier when he claimed those rumors were spreading. "Sif never saw Thor thus."

"Would you even know?" Father questioned.

"Even if I did not, I can say there were no signs of envy from her when we met Lady Jane."

"Lady Jane?"

"One of the mortals Thor spent time with on Miðgarðr, and one he was quite taken with."

"Prince Thor was taken with a mortal?"

"'Tis not the point," Mother argued. "If 'tis not envy, then what is behind her irrational dislike of King Loki?"

"You do not know him, Mother," Fandral said.

"That does not matter."

"It does if he did something to acquire Hliðskjálf which he should not have."

"Again, with the conspiracy claims!" Father exclaimed. "What happened to you, Fandral? You used to be such a loyal and honorable warrior."

The words, and their implications, made him flinch.

"Father!" he protested.

"Well, 'tis true. I never would have believed this of you if I had not been at the trial!"

"So, was it her? Sif?" Mother questioned.

"Why do you keep asking this?" Fandral asked.

"Because of how she behaved at the trial. 'Twas utterly deplorable!"

"I can see why Lord Hermóðr wished to break all ties with her," Father added. "Why would you risk your life by standing with her?"

"We are comrades in arms."

"That does not imply you stand by when they commit treason!"

"Nothing to say?" Mother asked after a moment of silence.

"You have already said my reasons were wrong," Fandral explained.

"Did you agree with everything she said at the trail then?"

"Nay, you saw I urged her to silence occasionally."

"Whose idea was it to commit treason?" Father asked.

"We did not."

"Then whose idea was it to go after Prince Thor despite your orders to the contrary?"

Fandral sighed. He did not wish to have this particular conversation, but he knew resistance was futile. If he avoided it, then his father would merely keep asking, either now or on his next visit, and then the next, and the next, until he had his answers.

"'Twas a joint decision," Fandral replied.

"Who voiced it first?"

"Mother," Fandral tried, though he did not hold out much hope.

"Was it her?" Mother asked.

"We were all upset over what had happened on Jötunheimr and the results," Fandral finally replied. "After I was released from the healing halls, we congregated in the chamber we oft use with Thor and King Loki. Volstagg ate an enormous amount and I commented on it which he took exception to, saying not to mistake his appetite for apathy. Sif then interjected with a comment of us all knowing what we had to do before Hogun said we had to go."

"Thus, 'twas a combination of Sif and Hogun who raised the initial possibility," Mother said.

"What I do not understand is how you could have gone along with it so easily," Father stated. "Loyalty to friends and shield brothers is good, but it should never supersede loyalty to Ásgarðr and Hliðskjálf."

"It does not!" Fandral retorted. "I would never betray either Ásgarðr or Hliðskjálf."

"You already have!"

They were standing toe to toe now, glaring at each other with clenched fists. Fandral had never thought he would ever come so close to attacking his father, but he had never expected to have his honor and loyalties questioned thus either. Not by his own father!

"Enough!" Mother stated, pushing an arm between them and trying to push him back.

For a second, Fandral resisted before he relented, stepping back. His father's words still stung, though. Ever since he had been but a small lad, he had looked up to and admired his father and aspired to be exactly like him. 'Twas why he had elected to specialize in the rapier rather than a larger full sword, though he was, of course, quite proficient at those as well. Thus, to have his father of all people now be so disappointed in him and what he had done, to the point of not believing him and questioning his very loyalties to Ásgarðr and Hliðskjálf... 'twas unbearable.

"'Tis quite clear you believe firmly in what you did," Mother said.

"Of course!"

"Ah!" Mother exclaimed, holding up a finger when Father moved to reply. "It will now also be quite clear to you that few, other than your friends, see what transpired the same way. Correct?"

"Aye," Fandral replied, reluctantly.

He still could not quite believe what Thor had said to them the last time he had visited. It had been the first time Fandral had begun to question their actions, but it had all been right! Loki was renowned for his trickery and deception, and Fandral had always known how envious the younger prince felt for Thor and his older brother's position and popularity. While he had never truly expected Loki to act on those feelings in quite such a treasonous and dishonorable manner, the fact remained the seeds had been sown long ago.

Yet, as before, Fandral felt a stirring of unease deep in his gut. As he had said at the time in the chamber, Loki had always been one for mischief, but this was something else entirely. 'Twas a discrepancy they had not quite managed to unravel or elucidate, and it bothered him in the quiet moments. Why had they not done so?

"Has it not occurred to you this might be becauseyouare wrong rather than everyone else?" Mother asked.

"Everyone else does not know King Loki like us," Fandral replied.

"At least consider it carefully. And give some thought to how much your friends might have influenced you not only now, but over the centuries."

"Very well," Fandral promised, not able to deny his mother something so simple.

Not when he would have a lot of free time to fill until Óðinn awoke. Or at least he very much hoped 'twas so, and his punishment had an end date on it. The thought it might not, nearly made him feel ill and he resisted it. He had worked too hard and for too long to become the warrior he was for it to end here and now, so ignominiously.

"I am certain you would not have acted thus before you met up with this vanir and that woman," Father added. "Why Prince Thor did not notice their behavior and act to counter it, I do not know, though I have heard whispers he is receiving remedial training with General Týr, so perhaps this is why."

Anger was Fandral's first response, but he did not wish to spend the whole time with his parents arguing, so he let it go. Who knew how long the guards would allow them?

"How are my sisters doing?" Fandral asked.