(LOKI)

I felt far away from the room with my children. Sigyn spoke, but she was muddied. Where had I pitched Vali's book? By the balcony? Toward the boys' room? Somehow I was trapped inside it, reliving moments I hoped to forget—pain and the grip of a monster, which played over and over again in my mind when Odin deemed my life not worth living.

Vali's cries were deeper than usual. Real fear—of me, and my snap of misery. I wouldn't even muse about hitting my children, but he was awfully close to the swipe of my arm and must've felt I aimed for him as well. Even if I had enough control in the moment to say he was safe, my endless tears and choking sobs were far too loud to overcome.

Sigyn finally came to my side and touched my shoulder to reorient me. "Lo, what happened?"

I couldn't look at her. At any of them. I clenched my fists and my eyes in equal measure. "I'm...I'm not ready for this."

"Vali, are you alright?" Narvi said, sniffling himself as he approached from the other room. His brother didn't answer and only cried harder, which made a chain reaction to the rest of us.

Sigyn sighed and pulled a chair next to me, sitting to be on my level. "We have to be ready. It's time. Would you like to say it, or should I?"

"And say what, now?" I raised my face to her. The blurry vision through my upset was a veil that protected me from the gravity of it all. "Admit that I'm the monster I always knew I was?"

"You aren't a monster, Loki. You never were." She tried to hypnotize me with her precious blues, but they were hazy, dampening the love within. "We'd never call our children monsters, would we?"

"Mum?" Narvi asked, uncharacteristically brave for him to interrupt. He read into us with whatever secret gift he always carried. "I swear we meant no harm."

Vali noisily swiped across his nose. "Aye. I'm sorry I upset Father."

Sigyn turned away to see them. "You didn't upset him, love. It's...complicated. Bring me the book you showed him, if you please."

"Ginny, it's horrible," I said.

"If it's anything like what Narvi brought me, I'm prepared."

I grimaced. "He brought another? Of what? More Jotun carnage?"

Vali struggled with the black book on the floor, which landed with one of the pages open, making an enchanted frost that adhered it to the marble. He finally wedged it loose and lifted it with Narvi's help to Sigyn's hands. She took it and nodded in thanks while answering me. "It was more familiar, I'm afraid. Your punishment."

"Which one?" I asked, running several possibilities through my mind, each one driving the knife of my past ever deeper

"The one that brought us together. The Orm on the cliffside." She flipped through the pages of Vali's selection with a shake of her head, absorbing what she could. "History rewritten to fit what Odin wishes the world to know. Who knows what other tales I was told in youth that were so false?"

I pointed to the last page I saw with Vali, with Thor poised at the center for destruction. "I remember this, and he wasn't alone. I was there, yelling for him to come to his senses because he couldn't defeat them this way."

"Then start here." She displayed the pages for Vali and Narvi, who sheepishly stood close together with their hands behind their backs. "You see this? It's a lie. It isn't the whole story. Your father will tell you what really happened."

It was appropriate. Still, I hesitated. Would they feel betrayed? Relieved? Disgusted? Too much to lose for the risk. "Gin, please..."

"No. Enough." She angrily slammed the book on the table face up, filling the room with another cool blast and the quiet yells of nonspecific creatures running into battle. "Years of being brave will mean nothing if we cannot tell the truth when it counts. I'm tired of hiding. We haven't even bothered to tell them why we lived in Vanaheim but weren't Vanir. They're bound to learn someday when something changes—who knows how this bloodline will express in years to come, Lo? Will they grow as tall as you or Thor or even more than we imagine? Have you considered the reality of how they'll handle sickness, wounds, or if they can expect to last the years we hope they will?"

"Have I considered it?" I stood and kicked the chair away, letting my fury out on the furniture to keep from boiling within. "You ask as if my nightmares are of anything but facing this."

"Now's your chance to right this wrong. Think back to how Odin told you. How did—"

"He didn't tell me at all," I screamed, pointing at the open book while my family stiffened. "I was immune to their cold touch, which fiercely bit the others. That's how I found out. This day was my last day of life as Prince of Asgard. My brother, my father, my mother—all lies!"

Sigyn stood with her hands up, unsuccessful at de-escalating me. "Loki..."

"Have you seen my scar? Have you? The only thing the Don never touched?" I quickly exposed my left forearm and held it close to her. "It's still here. His burn that didn't burn, yet it still found a way to incinerate my life and guaranteed I'd never outpace Thor's shadow."

She wrapped her fingers around my forearm in the same place, like she'd done it before, though we'd never discussed this. Instead of matching my volume, she breathed loudly, pacing herself and subconsciously willing me to mimic her. I didn't dare look away from her gaze, too afraid of judgment from my sons' eyes.

In. Out. Air in. Air out. Smoke like home. Her warm breath. Back to Vanaheim where we were safe, where Tee would chirp for supper scraps and Asgard wasn't spoken of. She was the balm to this old wound, yet could it ever really heal?

She pulled me forward in front of the boys and broke the calming spell by speaking. "It's time we told you all that you are entitled to know. From here forward, there will be no more lies. Nothing false among us. Now's the time to ask anything that's on your mind."

They continued to clutch one another in anticipation. Vali spoke first, predictably. "Mum...we aren't Vanir?"

"No. Neither of you are Vanir in blood, though we are in spirit and held with honor to our realm. And you both speak like Vanir, of course. But surely you've noticed how different we are from our neighbors." Sigyn released her grasp on me and put her hand over her heart. "My family, that of my father Edda, came from Asgard. You belong here as much as you do anywhere else. I grew up in this very palace, not two floors below us right now."

"The palace?" Vali asked with an upward inflection of disbelief.

"Yes. And your father lived here, too." She nudged my side. "Loki, tell them."

I felt smaller than they were. Waifish and insignificant. Unworthy of their audience. "I..." Where could I start? With the inaccurate illustrations before us? Or was it more appropriate to tell them how my life began and why we earned a place within the palace at all?

My stalling made Narvi uncomfortable enough to move. "Were you hurt, Father?"

I glanced at my arm's barely-there shadow scar and nodded.

"May I?" he asked, presenting both hands as if wanting to investigate it like a healer.

Vali took his hand instead. "Narvi, no. We talked about this."

"But—"

"No. You don't know what you're doing."

"I know better than you."

"You don't know how it—"

"Neither do you!"

"Boys, don't bicker now, for gods' sakes." Sigyn huffed and cupped her belly, bristling at the growing stress.

They grumbled and said in unison, "Sorry, Mum."

I couldn't be a coward now. They were owed an explanation.

"No, my sons. It is I who is sorry, to not have been a better man to be an honorable father, worthy of the grand stories you deserve to hear." I took the black book from the tabletop and knelt before them, displaying the early page of the single Jotun with red eyes. "Instead, your introduction to this world was built on lies. Lies I was brought up on, too, which filled me with self-loathing only your mother could temper."

They were gracious enough not to interrupt me, though their faces twitched with inner thought. I wondered if they were young enough to mold so I could earn their trust again when this was over.

I sighed as if every last bit of my breath cleared all lies of omission from my body. "The creatures in this book are indeed called Frost Giants, but they are more than that. They come from Jotunheim, one of the realms in the great tree of Yggdrasil, just like Asgard and Vanaheim. Jotun blood makes them what they are. And...and I am one of them."

Sigyn clumsily sat at my side, squeezing my left knee in silent support.

"But your mother is right. I grew up in this house. This palace...this prison. Which means you belong here, too." I shook more tears from my face and closed the book a final time. "The people you've met...some of them are your family. Mighty Thor is your uncle. My brother."

Vali sneered, "Uncle?"

"Yes. Thor told you of his Vanir mother, Frigga...she was my mother, too. Not by blood, you see, but by right. By privilege. The Allfather Odin raised me alongside him, calling me Prince as if I had a throne to inherit." I clenched my fists and white-hot memory of his confessed plans ripped through me. "He failed to mention that my intended kingdom was that of Jotunheim, not Asgard."

"Modi is your cousin," Sigyn said, clearing all doubt. "I don't believe he knows that you are family, but he should. We stayed away from this place because we weren't welcome. Now that we're needed, things have changed."

"But...Father?" Narvi pieced together the things I couldn't say—didn't want to say—and cracked what little façade still remained on my confession. "If you're Jotun, does that mean we are, too? Like the Frost Giants?"

I wept at this, squeezing the bridge of my nose and nodding. "You are. I'm so sorry, my sons. I'm sorry to Hela. I should've been more careful and not cursed you with my name and my heritage."

"Lo, don't say that. Don't you dare even suggest regret over what we've gone through," Sigyn said.

"I don't regret the life we've had." I focused on her face and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I only regret knowing how much harder their lives will be on my account. They were born a step behind. How can I not begrudge myself for that?"

While Sigyn and I were lost in one another, nursing each other's figurative wounds, our sons shared agitated whispers. One after the other, they traded ears and scanned their hands, flipping them over from knuckles to palms as if searching for something.

"I'm sure this is...overwhelming," I said, directing their attention back to me. "Please, don't shut us out. What are you thinking?"

Narvi glanced at the book still displayed before him. "If you're a Frost Giant, why don't you look like one?"

If it was possible to curl into myself even more, I didn't know how. "I do, actually. I'm just...particularly skilled at casting a façade over myself. When I've been distressed or challenged in the past, I don't waste energy appearing like I do now. Never asked for anything from the Vidar in anything other than my born form. I presume my Jotun skin would frighten you."

"You can look like this on purpose?" Sigyn asked with narrowed eyes. "You never told me that."

"Why would I?"

"I wonder if I've seen it, is all. Now I'm curious."

"Show us," Vali said with a bounce, not the slightest bit apprehensive in his ask, and Narvi nodded with the same attitude.

"Yes," Sigyn said slowly, an equal glimmer of curiosity about her. "Show us."

The naïve ask from all three of them pushed me into a figurative corner. "Jotun touch can be deadly. Masking it protects all of you. Why risk it?"

"I wanna see it," Narvi said. "Please?"

Sigyn raised her brows with her own plead. How could I deny her?

"Alright. Get back." I waited for them to obey and spread my arms out to be sure they were a safe distance away. Even though it wasn't a test, my heart quickened and made my stomach uneasy. "It's important that none of you touch me once I've changed. Understood?"

"Yes, Father," Vali said first, to agreement all around.

With a deep breath, I shut my eyes and said a quiet prayer to Mother. Please, Frigga, let this not mark me a monster in their eyes. I considered tempering the severity of the Jotun within since they wouldn't know the difference, but that would've taken time I didn't have. Their eyes were on me, willing me to morph and prove my claim.

The tears on my face sublimated to the air with a sizzle, too cold to be liquid or solid, just air. I wasn't aware of a temperature change in my skin, but my clothes moved differently. If my tunic made the same scratches on my arms in the past when I did this, I didn't recall being aware of it. Hyperawareness from being watched exposed me in new ways. Who was I—this creature? A lost prince? A father? Would Sigyn ever forgive me for binding her for all eternity to all this?

For a fleeting second, I considered that our binding was contingent on one future: surviving Ragnarok. Could I free her from this curse if I were lost to Surtur's fury?

Vali's excited yelp took me from the darkness. "That's amazing!"

I peeked with one eye. "What?"

"Father, you're a Frost Giant!" He rocked repeatedly on his knees next to Narvi and beamed.

His excitement was so far away from the heartache of my discovery. "You're not bothered by this?" I asked while waving over myself.

"Loki, you're beautiful," Sigyn said, just as genuine as ever. "Why hide this from us?"

I furrowed my brow and stared at my hands for a moment. Still an unnatural cerulean that shifted to white on my palms. Still with nails of black. Far from the alabaster tone of my adopted camouflage. Far from what I recognized as myself. I looked thicker and textured, as if I were covered in rough scales. Not a man at all. "Does it need an explanation?"

Narvi inched closer on his knees in my periphery.

I jolted. "Stop—"

"Is this cold magic?" he asked, pointing at the growing frost on the marble floor.

"Cold magic?" I shook my head. "A peculiar way to phrase it. Yes, I suppose."

"Nanny said cold magic was bad. Said it didn't belong at home. Is this what she meant?"

"I don't understand," I said. "What does that even mean?"

"He's right," Sigyn said. "Grid told me years ago that Vanir don't do cold magic. That's precisely what she said when I asked how to douse a flame."

"So isn't it bad?" Narvi repeated, pointing at the black book and not me this time.

"No, sweetheart." Sigyn pet Vali's hair when she couldn't reach Narvi as if they both needed reassurance. "Your father's ability to do this saved my life. It stopped a burn from working its way into my leg as a girl. And Uncle Freyr told me he used it to defeat the butcher, Gorr, before he was a Senator. Don't let Nanny's words worry you; this isn't bad of your father to have. It's rare, is all."

"Thank you, Gin." I wanted to take her hand but resisted. "You're right. Any magic can be good if it is used for good. The opposite is also true. Lighting an inferno starts with the same snaps that ignite the candles—it's how one uses it that counts." I traded glances between the boys, seeing them as older than they were, suddenly more mature than when our family conference started. "Until right now, I've never considered trying to teach you any spells related to this. Perhaps I wasn't certain it was possible. Maybe it isn't. We might not know until you're older."

Narvi's green eyes were more jewel-like than usual. He gave a tacit glance to Vali and nodded.

"Now, what was that about?" Sigyn asked.

Vali took Narvi's hand—something neither Sigyn nor I ever did without asking—and they both closed their eyes.

Somehow I knew. My heart did, anyway. It didn't race—it stopped. "Gods..."

It was visible on Vali first. An ocean spread down his arms and up his neck. He hummed and clenched his eyes shut, concentrating; whatever he needed to do to show this inner piece, it required few distractions.

But Narvi—oh, Narvi—he took a breath and exhaled fog. In an instant, his face and hands shifted to a tone of blue even deeper than mine. Vali looked largely the same as before except for Jotun skin; in this form, Narvi's hair was white. Almost translucent. He released his brother's hand and smiled.

Sigyn covered her mouth with one hand and her belly with the other. Confirmation that she had grown more than she bargained for, and did again.

Vali stopped humming and opened his eyes, gasping at Narvi. "Whoa...your hair's different!"

"Aye, and you have purple eyes." Narvi reached for Vali's face and laughed. "Modi can call animals all he wants. This is better."

"You already knew about this? Both of you?" I didn't fear hurting them anymore and itched to know every detail they could give me. I slid closer and memorized all the unique landmarks on their faces—Vali's deep brows matched his hair, but his head wasn't smooth anymore, and three long ridges curved from his forehead backward, like he had a natural helmet on underneath it all. His eyes weren't red like the Jotuns I remembered, and Narvi's comment was correct, like the blue eyes Sigyn gave him mixed with these. "H-how long ago did you discover it?"

Narvi shrugged. He didn't have red eyes, either—his were a violet that reminded me of Mother's many bottled tinctures. "It was an accident some time ago."

"We thought we'd be in trouble if we told you," Vali said.

"Well, if you ever doubt how they belong to you, this is your proof." Sigyn snickered and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Right." I couldn't cry like this, though I would've in my usual state. "May I hold you, boys? Narvi, would that be alright?"

He nodded quickly and opened his arms, leaping to wrap them around my neck. Vali followed, nearly tackling us to the floor. It was a strange gift to have them against me, appreciating our gifts without judgment. I wasn't a monster and neither were they. How could I ever have mused such a thing?

I loosened my grip so they could move away at their own paces. "You are Jotun, my sons. But you are also Asgardian. You're Vanir. It is up to you to become good men. Where you come from shouldn't decide it for you. And good men I'm certain you'll be; I would expect nothing less of a—"

"Lokison," Vali finished, meeting my eyes firmly and standing firm in his place. Stiff and formal, he declared, "I'm Vali Lokison. I don't care about anything else. If they don't like it, so what?"

Narvi stood, too, and echoed the sentiment. "I'm proud to be Narvi Lokison. I love my family."

Sigyn folded her arms and looked at the ceiling to try and control herself. "Goodness, you are all going to drain me dry."

"Alright. Let's shake this off and give her a turn, too, shall we?" I returned to my usual self and quickly pulled her in, almost wishing someone were present to capture the moment of our small family embrace. Home wasn't only in our small house on Vanaheim; it was here, with each other, wherever that was. No one and nothing could destroy what we'd built.

"Mum?" Narvi asked, muffled and against my shoulder.

"Yes, Narvi?"

"What does this have to do with the snake?"

She snorted and let go of me, dropping her arms and puffing her cheeks. "Looks like we have some more stories to tell, Lo."

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Hello, everyone! I've been so happy rewriting this story, which is one of my favorites of the series. It's gearing up for some of the more emotional elements. I was hoping to finish this by Christmas, but I'm now aiming for Mid-January. If it's not finished by then, I have to take a small hiatus, as one of my novels will be due for a copyedit in Februrary, and I have developmental changes to that story that have to be ironed out first.

I have some exciting news, though! One of my other novels was officially picked up by a small press, and it will be published at the end of 2024! I didn't even realize until I had a call with their editor that the book was appropriate for a holiday release, because the meat of the story takes place in December. I wrote a trans second-chance romance, akin to queer Hallmark, and I can't wait to give you all more information about that! Stay tuned, and thank you so much for reading! As Loki would say, "God Jul to all! Skal!" :)