Chapter 5: Done with all the feels, thanks

Without meaning to, Loki's feet take him to the garden he frequented when he was younger. It had been his escape whenever he couldn't take anymore of Thor's pigheadedness. It also happened to be the one Frigga would occasionally visit. They spent many a sunny afternoon together, Frigga teaching Loki some spell or just each reading a book.

Now, he collapses onto one of the benches Frigga had put in years ago. He's shaking, from rage or fear, he's not quite sure. Probably a combination of the two. Even seven years after last seeing the man, he's still not prepared to face Odin. It's a bit humiliating, actually. He gasps out a desperate sob, doubling over as he attempts to rein in his grief.

He wants Evelyn.

He wants her, yet knows she won't come. Not now, not when he needs her strength and confidence and wit and kindness as a buffer against the hardships that await him here. For all that Thor will try, he just doesn't understand like Evelyn does. His magic crawls under his skin, reaching for her even though she's far beyond his grasp. After four years of having her settled inside him, the sudden separation is rubbing him the wrong way.

The soft, barely noticeable sound of paws on grass draws him back to the present. He lifts his head to see Fenrir prowling around the edge of the garden, dark grey fur blending in with the shadows. Today the wolf is roughly the size of a horse. It must be because he came into the palace proper, usually choosing to be much larger.

Stars, that'd been an interesting conversation with Evelyn. With the whole team, actually. He'd been very surprised that the legends placed Fenrir, Sleipnir, and Jörmungandr as his biological children. Fenrir and Sleipnir, he partially understood. He raised both of them from infancy, imbued them with his magic and power. It's how Fenrir's capable of changing his size and why Sleipnir was born with eight legs instead of four(Evelyn and Barton had laughed themselves sick after that particular story). Jörmungandr, though? That he has no idea where the stories came from. The only time he ever had a serpent in his possession was when he stumbled upon a basilisk, and that had been pure accident. He'd rather quickly passed it off to Salazar. The blasted thing wanted absolutely nothing to do with him and he with it.

"Hello Fenrir," he murmurs in greeting.

Father, the wolf rumbles back, finally approaching. You are distressed about something. We felt the taint in the air last night.

Loki sinks his fingers into Fenrir's fur. "I was forced to use Soul Magic," he whispers as Fenrir settles on the ground beside him. That statement, of course, has the wolf's head shooting back up.

I remember you telling us of the dangers of it. What could possibly drive you to use it?

"Nothing good." He swallows around the lump in his throat. "The Nine Realms were collapsing. There were so few of us left." He chuckles weakly. "I married again, Fen. She…stars, she's everything I could ever dream of wanting. She met me at my lowest, when I'd all but given up on myself, and she dragged me back up. And then she went and got hit with a death spell and I couldn't…" He chokes, bowing his head and tightening his grip on Fenrir's fur. "I used Soul Magic because I couldn't lose her like I lost Sigyn."

Is she the one Sister Hela is so excited over?

Loki manages to nod. "She's Hela's Avatar on Midgard. She's even Godric and Salazar's Heirs. She's every bit as fierce and daring and courageous as Godric and can be as sly and witty and tricky as Salazar. She is as loyal as Helga ever was and her thirst for knowledge as powerful as Rowena's. She has the best and worst of all four of them in her." She, unfortunately, got Godric's bullheadedness and stubbornness and sheer recklessness, Salazar's ability to reduce someone to a whimpering mess with but a few words(he's okay with that ability when it's not pointed at him but stars had she wielded it masterfully against him at first), Rowena's single mindedness when researching in that she forgets the rest of the world, and, just like Helga, once her loyalty is lost, there's no chance of redemption in her eyes.

Fenrir shifts slightly to press up against his legs. Her name?

Now he can smile, if only faintly. "Evelyn Rosalie Potter."

I look forward to meeting her, then. When will you be bringing to Asgard?

His expression sours, magic chilling the air slightly with his displeasure. "Hela forbid me to go and get her."

Fenrir side eyes him. I know Sister Hela is Goddess of Death, but you are her father and her Alpha. She should not be able to forbid you anything.

Loki barks out a sharp, painful laugh. "As Goddess of Death, when she chooses to intervene, even Odin Allfather listens. Death is beyond time, and as such, she's sometimes privy to things we do not know and will not for a time yet. And then there's little fact that she was accompanied by someone I would swear on my magic was a Valkyrie, but the woman had black feathers, not white. She even called Hela 'milady'."

I do not remember Sister Hela ever having Valkyrie of her own. They are all from Valhalla, correct? the wolf asks.

"I thought so as well, but last night proved otherwise," Loki mutters. Why, then, hadn't Hela mentioned it to him before? While he might not've been able to be the best father to her after the incident that forced her to Helheim, he still tried. They met when they could and talked about their lives. Somehow gaining Valkyrie should've been something monumental to inform him of. She'd complained multiple times that having to go out and collect souls was exhausting on top of having to make sure everything was in place in Helheim when said souls arrived. He would think that getting someone to help would be something she'd be rather eager to talk about.

Fenrir nudges him before pointing his snout back towards the palace. Your brother is approaching. Should I chase him away?

Loki can't help his snort of amusement. There's been a few times where he's taken Fenrir up on the offer and it's always been entertaining. "No, he can come. You'll find he's a rather changed man, Fen."

The wolf grumbles in the back of his throat. I will believe that when I see it.

Now that Loki's actually concentrating on it, he can feel the sparking of Thor's power getting closer. He tips his head to the side, watching his brother come into view and then pause at the garden's edge.

"Is my company welcome, brother?" Thor inquires, raising his voice only enough to be heard. "Or are you going to have Fenrir chase me away again?"

Loki smiles tiredly at him, jerking his head in offering. "It's not you I'm angry with. At least, not right now."

Thor dips his head in acknowledgement while walking over. "Then I shall endeavour to keep it that way." He settles himself on the bench on the opposite side of Loki that Fenrir is. "Hello Fenrir. Keeping Loki company?"

Fenrir regards him silently for a moment before pointing out, You are missing your hammer.

"He blew it up last night," Loki says blithely, amused with how the wolf twitches. "That's what the explosion was, and why our wing of the palace is little more than rubble at the moment."

I had wondered. He gives Thor a measured look. And what, exactly, drove you to destroying the weapon that enables you to wield your powers more easily?

Thor, unlike what Fenrir is probably expecting, just sighs. "Having given my life with Mjolnir already broken, only to find myself waking up in a bed I had not slept in for four years, caused my powers to react badly and it was too much for Mjolnir to handle. While I will mourn the loss again," Lightning jumps easily between his fingertips, snapping and cracking and popping in the air, "I had a year to master my power without it." He smiles wryly. "Rest assured, whatever stories Loki told of our younger years will not be happening again."

"That is good, because my retaliation would be much worse than it was in our youth," Loki comments blandly. He hadn't expected it otherwise, but everyone else will probably be thankful for that bit.

There's a bit of cheekiness in the smile Thor offers back. "Forgive me, brother, but I think I fear Evelyn's retaliation more than yours."

Loki pauses, thinks about it, and then nods in agreement. "Fair enough." She is rather vicious about protecting what's hers, just like him. Given that she's already had a go at Thor, it's perfectly logical that his brother would wish to prevent a repeat of said experience. No need to inform Thor that that would only happen if he really screwed up. A little fear is healthy in life.

You have met Father's new wife, then? Fenrir asks.

Thor puffs his chest out proudly. "I married them. She is good for him and he for her. Our team decorated the tower we resided in for the occasion at Evelyn's request."

Fenrir cocks his head to the side, giving Loki a curious look. You did not marry here in Asgard?

He grimaces, fingers tightening around Fenrir's fur without meaning to. "Neither of us were welcome in Asgard at the time." And Loki isn't sure he'd have even wanted to if they had been, what with Frigga being dead and most of Asgard hating him. Pushing those thoughts away, as he refuses to dwell on them, he looks to Thor. "How was Mother when you left?" he asks softly, carding his fingers through Fenrir's fur in apology.

Thor exhales noisily. "Distraught, but giving Father a tongue lashing. Apparently, telling you the truth of your heritage has been something of a disagreement between them ever since our youth."

Is that why Father smells like frost when none of the rest of your pack does? Fenrir inquires. Because I had wondered, but it did not seem like an issue when your Alpha accepted him regardless.

"You knew?" Loki hisses, lurching to his feet. "You knew and you said nothing?"

"Brother, he knew no better," Thor hurriedly says, standing as well and maneuvering himself between them. "While he might've known of the Jotun, can you honestly say that Fenrir has ever met another Jotun besides yourself? How was he to know what the difference in our scents truly meant?"

Loki remains rooted where he stands, breathing harshly, as Fenrir gets up. He forces his brewing, twisting magic back down, not truly wanting to hurt the cub he raised all those years ago over something he couldn't have known to be so important.

If I had known what it meant, I would have told you, Father, Fenrir insists.

Loki makes himself take multiple deep breaths before speaking again. "I believe you. It doesn't matter anymore, anyways." There's an edge to his voice he's unable to get rid of.

Fenrir steps forward to press his face into Loki's chest. I am sorry, Father.

Loki has to swallow around a lump that rises in his throat. "I know, Fenrir. I apologize for losing my temper."

Fenrir huffs, pressing even closer briefly before drawing back and looking to Thor. Father was right. You are a changed man. There's a pause before the wolf adds, Uncle.

Thor hesitates momentarily, then reaches out to run his fingers over Fenrir's fur. "I shall endeavor to remain so, nephew."

Loki jolts, never having heard Thor refer to Fenrir as that. For all that Fenrir and Sleipnir call him father, no one else has ever really acknowledged that bond as they see it. At least, nowhere that he could actually hear it.

Fenrir yawns, flashing his teeth lazily in the sunlight. See to it that you do. Father, I will go inform Nir of what happened. If you need me, I will be remaining near the palace for a while.

"I'll come find you if Evelyn arrives within the next few days," Loki assures him, giving him one last pat before the wolf lopes off. He watches him vanish around a turn, and only then does he let himself collapse again. "He knew," he whispers brokenly, desperately wishing that he could just stop with all the emotions that just seem to keep assaulting him today. He's getting tired of thinking he's fine, only for something else to turn up and bring his world crashing back down again. Without Evelyn here to help temper him, he's not sure how much longer he can last if it keeps happening.

"Do you wish to be left alone, or do you want to be distracted?" Thor inquires, not even bothering to offer help with sorting out his emotions because they both know how that would end(badly, so very badly). At least now Thor asks what he wants to do, rather than just deciding for him.

"Distracted," Loki states flatly, done with emotions for the time being.

"Very well. If you'll follow me?"

Sif is confused.

She's not used to being confused. At least, not about this. Not about Thor.

It's been the talk of the city what happened last night. Some powerful form of magic suddenly heavy in the air, and then Thor goes and blows up a whole wing of the palace. She, along with Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg, had immediately gone to arms, only to be turned away when they tried to entered the royal wing. Like everyone else, they'd been told to come back in the morning, as the situation was under control at present.

So she'd left. Begrudgingly, but she'd left.

And then, as suggested, she returns after waking at a more reasonable hour, only to be turned away again. The Royal Family isn't accepting any visitors, and it isn't known when exactly they will be. So she goes to a training ring to work off some of her stress, not wanting to go all the way back home with nothing to show for her day.

When she no longer feels liable to punch one of the palace guards if given an unfavorable answer again, she tries one more time to be granted entrance to the royal wing. Now she's informed that, while the King and Queen remain and require further privacy, the two Princes have since left.

"And do you know where Thor has gone?" she asks, the beginning of impatience starting to rise up.

"The palace gardens, Lady Sif," the guard promptly replies.

Sif blinks. The gardens? She can't remember the last time Thor voluntarily entered the gardens. That's more Loki and Queen Frigga's domain. "You are certain it was the gardens?"

"Yes, Lady Sif. He was following after his brother."

Ah, that makes more sense. And, thankfully, this also means she knows which garden to go to. For all his trickery and secrets, Loki does have a favorite.

"My thanks," she says, then turns to march determinedly in the direction of said garden. Blessedly, no one attempts to stop her. Unfortunately, when she arrives, there's no one there. Just a lingering smell of ozone and wolf. Gnashing her teeth together, she stalks through some of the nearby gardens in the hopes that maybe they're in one of them. No such luck.

"Lady Sif?"

It takes every measure of patience she can dredge up to keep from snapping at the guard who calls to her. "Yes?"

"Prince Thor and Prince Loki left for the eastern training grounds a few minutes before you arrived."

Well, that explained why they hadn't already run into each other. She'd been at the western ones. However, the eastern training grounds are usually reserved for the training of powers and magicks, not the body. Again, she can't remember the last time Thor voluntarily went there. He's been content with wielding his power through Mjolnir and not really attempting any further mastery. She wonders if that's changed. She also wonders if that has anything to do with him destroying his and Loki's wing last night.

The smell of rain is rather heavy in the air as she approaches, which isn't all that surprising given the lightning flashing through the gathering clouds. She heads towards the one the lightning seems centered on, intent on giving Thor a piece of her mind and demanding an explanation for last night.

There's a barrier up when she finally reaches the particular training ground. Even with her rather limited knowledge of magicks she can tell the barrier is a masterful work of art. She sees no sign of Thor, for all the lightning being thrown around, but a few moments after she arrives she sees Loki casually strolling in her direction.

"Loki!" she calls out, "have you—?"

He holds up a hand without even looking at her, and she falls silent, if only to gape at him. That is not something he's done before. Not to say he's submissive to her(to any of them to follow Thor, really), because Loki is any but that, but he generally at least acknowledges her when they meet. She's never been dismissed right out of hand.

An energized hush falls over them right before the sky lights up again. Lightning comes screaming down, striking at the sand covering the ground of the training field. While Sif tenses for an attack, Loki isn't fazed in the slightest. He even tsks his tongue when the storm of frenzied lightning ceases.

"He's going sluggish," he mutters under his breath, absentmindedly waving a hand through the air. Sif can't help but gawk when the barrier comes shimmering down with nary a whisper to the winds. Usually there's at least some form of noise when Loki brings down his barriers, a small pop if nothing else. That had been completely and utterly silent.

Then Thor drops out of the sky, all windswept hair and laughing eyes and a proudly vicious smile on his lips, and Sif is staring again because for all the pride Thor is displaying, there's hardly any arrogance where once he'd be practically swimming it. A warm, unexpected kind of hope blooms in Sif's chest. This. This is the king she's known has been buried under all Thor's arrogance and swagger, if only he'd let himself be humbled enough to see it. She doesn't know what changed between yesterday and today, what made this a reality, but she is thankful for it nevertheless.

"How was that, brother?" her prince asks, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement. Sparks of lightning pop and fizzle in the air around him.

"Slow," Loki drawls. "You know you can't aim like you did with Mjolnir. You muck it up every time you do."

Sif is startled to realize that he is indeed missing Mjolnir. It's such an integral part of his image that she's surprised she didn't notice immediately.

Thor, however, throws his head back and laughs. "Then I suppose you will have fun devising target practice for me until you deem me sufficient."

A small, knowing smile curls at Loki's lips. "I will indeed." There's a great deal of self-satisfaction in his tone, along with a confidence that no longer seems tied to Thor's approval. Yet another thing Sif is surprisingly happy to see, for all that the current situation has her growing more and more confused with every passing second.

"Thor?" she calls out, loath though she is to break up the image of them getting along. Of Thor actually listening to someone besides himself. Two sets of eyes turn to her, brimming with untold power, and she has to consciously make herself not take a step back.

"Hello Sif," Thor says, voice low and lacking the usual booming power of thunder behind it. "What brings you here today?"

Before she can answer, Loki scoffs and rolls his eyes skyward. "You blew up our wing of the palace, you imbecile. Why do you think she sought you out?"

Thor blinks repeatedly, as if the thought hadn't even occurred to him. "Ah."

"Honestly," Loki mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "If this is what your kingship is going to be like, Asgard is in for a long couple of centuries."

Surprisingly, Thor pulls a face of disgust. "Are you certain—?"

Loki cuts him off with a flat, "Very. I think I've demonstrated just how horrible an idea that is."

"Mine wasn't going to be much better."

"Well, I have absolutely no desire for it anymore, so you're stuck with it." He claps his hands together. "I shall leave you two be now. Thor, feel free to explain what you wish to the lovely Sif as I have had quite enough of doing that myself for the time being. Should you need me, you know how to find me." And then he just walks off, leaving Sif feeling even more confused.

"Is he well?" she asks before she can stop herself.

Thor snorts, but stares sadly after his brother. "Physically, he is fine. We both are. However," Here Thor sighs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other to face her more directly. "However, my brother was in a situation that forced him to use Soul Magic."

"No," she breathes, horrified. Skilled or knowledgeable in magicks she might not be, there is no one who doesn't understand the price Soul or Death Magic demands or the toll it takes. For Loki, of all people, to be forced to use it is beyond anything Sif wants to imagine.

"Indeed," Thor intones. "He used it, and now we are dealing with the after effects." He smiles wryly at her. "It's why I blew up our wing."

She frowns. "Why did you do that? We tried entering the palace last night because of it, only to be turned away."

"I have not used Mjolnir in over a year, nor have I been to Asgard in nearly four." Thor shrugs as if he was simply commenting on the weather. "I reacted as if threatened, and Mjolnir couldn't withstand the strain, so it broke." He pauses almost hesitantly before adding, "Again."

"You broke Mjolnir?" she all but yelps.

His expression goes grim and Sif's stomach rolls at the sight. Never has she seen him like this, not a speck of cheer to be found. "Aye, I broke it. I shall always be thankful that it was all I broke. I could have easily killed all those we were staying with, but Mjolnir took the brunt of my pain and anger, sparing us any further heartache."

"You were there when Loki used Soul Magic," she realizes, there being no other explanation for what he's telling her.

"No, I was not," Thor corrects her, completely throwing her. "By my brother's reckoning, I have been dead three years to him." Sif can't quite help the wounded noise she makes in the back of her throat at the mere idea of Thor being dead. "We aren't entirely sure why it is I remember at all. If he's to be believed, then it is because his wife's luck is rather odd and it affected the Soul Magic as he cast the spell." He tips his head to the side, staring beyond her. "I do recall Evelyn complaining about Potter Luck more than once, but never something of this magnitude." He shrugs again. "In any event, I am pleased that I do remember. If only so my brother is not alone as he waits."

"You died," she repeats hoarsely, her mind stuck on that little fact.

"Once, but no more." He fixes her with an understanding look. "Do not dwell on it. It will only bring you pain if you do. It has no longer happened. I made my peace with it then."

"But you—"

"Sif, I am alive," he stresses. "Focus on that."

She gulps in a desperate breath, willing her frantic heart to calm. When she feels marginally more in control, she asks warily, "May I know how you died?"

Thor regards her solemnly for a long moment before stating, "I fell when Vanaheim collapsed. I was holding open a Gate for others to get to safety. I chose to remain so that more might make it through rather than have their deaths on my conscious."

Sif sways where she stands, not in any way prepared for that information. "And what caused Vanaheim to collapse?" she continues, already dreading the answer but something in her demanding to know, if only so she can do everything in her power to prevent it from happening again.

"The Realms were thrown out of alignment during the Convergence. As far as I know, Loki and Evelyn were unable to discover a way to fix it, hence why my brother resorted to Soul Magic when Midgard and Niflheim were all that was left."

That would indeed be a reason to use Soul Magic.

And that's not something she is able to do anything about.

So she concentrates on breathing in and breathing out until she no longer feels like collapsing into a sobbing mess. Mercifully, Thor lets her be, not saying anything else. She's slightly afraid that if he does, she'll be tipped over the edge, and that's the last thing she wants.

"You are taking measures to ensure it does not happen again?" she wants to know. Has to know. Has to be certain that she won't lose her prince a second time, for all that she doesn't remember the first. Just the knowledge that it happened is enough to scare her.

"We will be," Thor assures her. "For now, my brother is mostly concentrating on his wife and when she will arrive. After she comes, he will no doubt throw himself headlong into that particular problem along with a few others."

"And what, exactly, is more important than that?" She can't help the sharpness in her question. Her terror, while reduced, still lingers. She doesn't even question the mention of Loki's wife again, for all that she knows Sigyn is dead and has been for four centuries. There's no coming back for her.

"We have twenty years until the Convergence. There is a madman out for Evelyn's blood still alive," Thor explains with a slightly chastising tone. "He is the reason she lost her parents when she was but a babe, and she is Hela's Avatar. Neither my brother or my niece will take kindly to his attempts to murder Evelyn again. It is better to deal with him first before that happens."

Oh.

Thor's not talking about Sigyn.

Loki found another woman. A woman that his daughter apparently approves of.

Then something he says truly registers in her mind.

"What do you mean, attempts to murder her again?" she demands, hands tightening into fists as her temper begins to spike.

"Exactly as I said," he replies with deceptive calmness. "He tried to kill her as a babe along with her parents but failed. He will not rest until either she is dead or he is struck down."

Sif inhales sharply through her nose.

That's what she thought he meant.

Her mind is immediately made up. She snaps her heels together and bows to her prince.

"While I might be of no help regarding the Convergence, know that my blade is yours for this. Should you require it, I will guard her with my life."

A grim smile spreads across Thor's lips. "That is good to know, Sif. I do believe you and her will get along quite well."

She nods. "Then I look forward to meeting her." Even if she wonders at the kind of woman who caught Loki's eye this time. Sigyn had been more of a traditional woman, unlike Sif. Still, if Thor thinks they will get along, she will believe him until proven otherwise.

"If Hela is to be believed, then you will be able to meet her soon."