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Chapter Text

The competition for honor guards had been fierce, lasting almost twenty years. Although I had been given high marks as a warrior and better than average in skaldic performance, I shone most brightly in the arenas of diplomacy, history, and dissembling. It helped that I had been fascinated by the history between Asgard and my home realm since I was a youth, and I’d always excelled at games of intrigue and deception. I was too young and inexperienced to be given a speaking role in the expedition, but I was one of only four guards chosen for the diplomatic delegation to the home of our ancient enemies.

When we arrived at the end of Bifrost, the famous “rainbow bridge,” Heimdall stood to greet us alone, a motionless figure in golden armor gleaming under the light of Asgard’s miniature sun. In a ritual exchange, he demanded our weapons, until our diplomats’ stylized protests were overcome and we turned over several items—some for safekeeping, some as gifts—while being allowed to carry our own personal “peacebonded” arms. He knew as well as we did that all of these weapons were entirely ceremonial. My people make good use of technology, but we prefer to fight naked and unarmed. I was very curious about how Heimdall perceived us, as I knew that his magically enhanced vision could not be fooled by our current forms, but I didn’t have the opportunity to ask before he directed us to a waiting skybarge piloted by several royal guards, with plenty of room for our small party of four guards and two ambassadors.

Asgard is the name of both the artificial planetoid that is the home of the Aesir and the capital city of that small realm. Our brief trip from the landing point at the end of Bifrost to the looming structure of the Palace was prolonged into a sweeping arc over and across the city. I’m sure that we were meant to be impressed, maybe even awed, by the casual display of engineering and technology on display for the journey. We took our cues from our cultural advisers as best we could, making expressions and gestures indicating approval and admiration. At the same time, we couldn’t help being distracted by the hidden world that few of the Aesir themselves could see, yet that exists right alongside their own. We noticed the scars, where damage to structures had been repaired; we glanced over the careful restorations where time had eroded delicate details away from the looming statuary; and we saw the complex web of energy and carefully hidden understructure of the past, the aetheric tapestry that is the foundation of every ancient civilization. Asgard’s history of creation in warfare, its defense and fortification, was as plain for us to see as all the grand and shining decorations that had since encrusted every surface of the city. It is a saying among our people that every utopia is built upon a mountain of bones. There may be an exception to that rule, but we haven’t found it yet.

One of the most important traits that been considered in the selection of our guards was patience. Of course, our ambassadors had ages more experience in dealing with such things, but it was difficult not to grow increasingly restless with every stop along the route to our formal announcement and presentation. When we disembarked from the skybarge, there was a ceremony, along with what I’m sure they thought was a discreet attempt to screen us for hidden weapons. Then we went up a flight of steps into a reception hall, where there was another ceremony. After that was a longer hallway, and we stopped before a huge, closed portal for yet another ceremony. Each ritual was longer than the one before it. The diplomats had plenty to do, giving carefully worded affirmations of peaceful intent and nonaggression to every thinly veiled challenge. As a guard, my role consisted entirely of walking from one position to another, then standing there as still as possible, looking calm and alert.

My job wasn’t entirely ceremonial, though. At every step and stop, we kept constant vigil for unexpected movements or the possibility of threat, while our elders were occupied with the delicate business of diplomacy. We had been at peace for centuries with Asgard, but there were plenty of Aesir still alive who remembered the ages of conflict that had come before. It didn’t help that my people had a reputation for treachery—or that the reputation was pretty well deserved. We’d all been warned that some of our hosts would most likely see our mission as a hostile invasion, no matter how polite and well-mannered we were, and take the defense of the realm into their own hands. We’re even harder to kill than an Aesir, but they’d had centuries of practice to figure out some nasty tricks. A lone fanatic wasn’t out of the question, or even an assassin armed and silently sanctioned by their government.

We’d had plenty of training, but no amount of practice can prepare a person for the experience of hours of grinding tedium, while simultaneously having to maintain a razor-sharp edge of alert wariness under a shell of stolid immobility. If I’d been in my natural form, I doubt I would have been able to stop my tailtip from twitching.

At long, long last, the portal to the grand public throne room spun open, and we ascended a flight of steps to emerge into an immense hall, as large as the Caldera in our homeland. Nearly three-quarters of the chamber was open to the sky above, and I had a moment of irritation when I realized we could have simply docked our skybarge on the ledge I could see on the open side of the platform and saved several hours of pointless rituals. A vast length of stone floor decorated with intricate designs led from the doorway to the foot of the central throne, lined on both sides by guards in gleaming armor and bristling with weapons that weren’t entirely decorative. Behind the guards were swirls and clusters of diplomats, courtiers, minor nobility, and hopeful social climbers. Some stared at us with open hostility, but most seemed just curious, and some even managed to look bored. Though the room, and the tiers of balconies above, could have held thousands of spectators, there were not more than a couple of hundred Aesir present.

A huge gilded throne sat on a stepped dais in an oval of pillars, occupied by an imposing, elderly Aesir who I assumed must be Odin Allfather, the ruler of Asgard. A pair of black avians were perched, one on either side of the throne’s back, watching attentively. I remembered from my history that Aesir preferred hereditary rule though male descendants—so the Aesir individual standing on the steps immediately to his right must be Thor, Odin’s son and heir. The person standing on his left appeared to be about his own age, so it seemed a safe guess to be Frigga, Odin’s mate. There were a few others standing on either side before the throne, in what seemed to be a descending order of importance, but my attention stopped dead at the sight of the person placed at Thor’s right hand, one step below him.

I think our entire delegation noticed zir simultaneously. At least, all of us stumbled or hesitated just a tiny bit. It didn’t last more than a second before the diplomats had their inscrutable expressions repaired and we fell back into practiced lockstep. In that second, an assassin could probably have taken out several of us, or perhaps even all. None of us had expected to see a Jotun shape-shifter holding an obvious high position at this court.

If any of the Aesir noticed our surprise, they gave no sign. However, the Jotun obviously had. None of the Asgardians were watching the dais, and so none but our party caught zir very slight smirk. We ignored it, of course, but inside my impassive shell I was burning with curiosity.

Finally arriving at the foot of the platform, we knelt, heads bowed and fists pressed to our chests in the traditional Aesir salute gesture, until Odin gave us permission to rise. After standing, we four guards took positions at four corners of a box around the envoys, each facing outward diagonally from each other. Aesir guards would have probably all continued to face the throne, or perhaps stayed behind entirely, but this was our own traditional formation. As it happened, this positioned me almost directly facing the Jotun.

Despite my interest in the history and culture of Asgard and its people, I’d never gotten the hang of correctly identifying mammalian genders at first sight. I knew that facial hair was a strong indicator of maleness, while long manes were more often associated with females, but I also knew that these things varied hugely within most cultures by fashion and personal inclination. Their clothing was also diverse, according to personal and societal styles—no help to be had there. The determining characteristics of their mammalian anatomy were often covered by their clothing, in layers that seemed designed to deliberately obscure the matter. I’d never understood the ridiculous amount of importance that most mammalian species seemed to place on gender determination, especially given the fact that they usually only had two recognized genders anyway, and the extraordinary lengths they often went to hide what that gender actually was.

As I stared at the Jotun, I remembered some oddly vague mention in our agents’ reports of Odin having another child, besides his heir. Given zir position on the steps before Odin’s throne, it seemed that this Jotun was considered some kind of relative. Nothing I’d heard had specified zir species, gender, or even name, and we’d of course assumed zie was an Aesir, possibly underage, and of no particular importance. Now that I saw zir, I thought I could better understand the lack of information. Although zie appeared to fit well within standard species deviations for an Aesir, zir aetheric pattern proclaimed zir true species for anyone with the ability or skill to look. I knew that the current trend of Asgardian society was strongly averse to technomancy, which explained why zir background wasn’t common knowledge—there were probably very few others, if any, capable of seeing through zir Aesir form in the assembled crowd.

I was surprised to the point of being shocked when I realized the most likely reason for Odin to have “adopted” a Jotun: a child given by the Frost Giants as a hostage to ensure their good behavior in the aftermath of the most recent war, almost certainly from Jotun royalty. The practice had been fairly common in Asgardian history, but to me it seemed repellent and barbaric.

I found my thoughts turning to speculation of zir gender, quite indecently. Zie had no facial hair, indicating femininity. Zie was also quite slender, with delicate facial features, also usually female traits in Aesir. Zie wore trousers, though, often a masculine affectation in this culture, as well as a gold helmet with a pair of long, swept-back horns. I thought they looked rather attractive on zir, much more so than the wings on Thor’s helmet or the flat crest on Odin’s. I was caught a little by surprise when the Jotun bowed, and it took me a minute to realize that the gesture was in response to something Odin was saying, not aimed at me directly.

“And I present to you Loki Odinson, the Clever One, who will one day defend this realm with his mastery of technomancy and the aetheric arts.”

The one named as Loki straightened up, smiling. Zie—he, evidently—plucked at the nearby aetheric threads with a subtle twitch of his fingers, and through them pulled an illusion of himself up directly in front of me. I could sense similar illusions had sprung up to face the other guards as well. The images bowed in unison, mimicking the bow that Loki had just made to our party, then straightened up and gave a quick wink of one eye before vanishing. I glanced back at Loki and raised an eyebrow by just a fraction. He responded by widening his smile just a fraction.

My attention to threats suffered badly through what remained of the ceremony. I reassured myself that it was unlikely that an attack would be made here, so publicly, right in front of the ruling powers. This audience was just a formality, of course. There would be many meetings to come between our diplomats and theirs as a pace treaty, one that would ideally last ten thousand years, was hammered out. I could expect to stay in Asgard for at least several months, if not years—or longer.

As I tried not to stare at the intriguing Jotun, I found myself quite pleased with the prospect of staying for a while.

Chapter Text

Our assigned apartments were huge by Aesir standards. Had we shifted into our natural forms, they would have been quite cramped, but there was at least enough room for that to be possible. Our hosts had also been thoughtful enough to add a large, stone-lined sauna to the suite for us, which was big enough for all four of us guards in our native shapes, or for Aizerue, the eldest and therefore largest, alone. We gathered in the main sitting room in the humanoid forms we had been wearing and looked at each other for a few moments, then all turned to stare at Scathsa, who stared back blankly for a minute before remembering eir job. E wiggled eir fingers, then consulted a device embedded in eir bracer, and nodded. “Heimdall’s still watching, of course, but there were also three other observation sources, all now blocked,” e confirmed. “And Heimdall can see us, but he can’t hear.”

“As far as we know,” Aizerue added, in the best approximation of our native language that was possible to pronounce without a muzzle. “Best to avoid using their tongue when discussing confidential matters.”

Laharu took off his crested guard helmet, releasing his short fire-red hair to tumble over his shoulders, then stuck out his own tongue, looking down at it cross-eyed. It was a lighter blue than the skin of his face. Like the rest of us, he’d retained the natural narrow, fluted shape of his tongue, which was more than agile enough for any humanoid form of speech. Pulling it back into his mouth with a comical slurp, he remarked, “I don’t think I could use one of their tongues if I tried!” The rest of us snickered, and even Aizerue cracked a smile.

This seemed to break the feeling of stiff formality that we’d fallen into since our arrival. All of us stretched, groaning with relief as we removed various items of restrictive or uncomfortable clothing, and tried to figure out how to relax on the Aesir furniture in our humanoid shapes.

“Well, one of us has to say it,” Daucus said, sprawled across some kind of couch. Hir emerald green eyes stood out amid the orange skin of hir face, matching the short, feathery hair that wisped around hir head as hie glanced around at the rest of us. “What in all the Realms is a Jotun doing on the royal dais of Asgard?”

“I have a guess,” I volunteered. The others listened as I explained my hostage theory, Daucus nodding thoughtful agreement.

“It’s a sound theory, and unless we’re given information to the contrary, we’ll go with it.” Aizerue sighed and leaned back, then winced and leaned forward again, gingerly patting the sculpted mass of eir long, light blue hair. There were sympathetic grimaces all around, but we had agreed when we were grafted with our carefully tailored humanoid forms to keep them on as much as possible while in Asgard, and not to shift out of them for convenience or comfort—especially since we knew there would always be at least one observer—except in the sauna, set aside especially for that purpose.

“But you mustn’t ask, or being it up directly,” Daucus cautioned us. “If this theory is correct, it’s probably a delicate diplomatic situation. They didn’t provide us with that information for a reason, and whatever the reason is, we’ll have to be very careful around the subject.”

“If we can get the information in other ways…” Scathsa said, trailing off suggestively.

Daucus snorted. “Sigyn performed much better in tests of subterfuge than you did. I think you should leave the more subtle information gathering to zir.”

I grinned at Scathsa, twitching my fingers in a clumsy approximation of a friendly wing-flutter. “Yeah, leave the subtlety to me, Stonefoot.” Scathsa, who had scored the lowest of us all in intrigue to earn that nickname, growled and threw a cushion at my head, but e had a wry grin on eir flat, purple humanoid face.

“I’d also guess that the Jotun already thinks favorably of us, for whatever reason,” I mused, stretching out on the floor. “Zie—he—winked at us. Or his illusions did, anyway. That gesture usually means approval and possibly collusion, right?” I looked over at Daucus, who looked back blankly. “You know—the one-eyed blink thing?” I made an exaggerated wink to demonstrate.

“I didn’t see that,” Daucus replied. Looking around, everybody else was shrugging or shaking their heads. “It seems that wink was intended for you alone, Sigyn.”

“A wink can also indicate flirtatious intent,” Malalik added. “For whatever reason, Loki definitely wove that particular illusion so only you could see it.”

I nodded, already building plans and scenarios in my imagination. “I’ll start work on him right away, then. He could be a valuable ally.”

“Or he could be an extremely dangerous enemy.” Aizerue leaned forward, eir piercing ice-blue eyes intent in eir pale face. “Any appearance of friendship could be a ruse, to trick you into giving away information or even trap you in a position to be harmed or killed. We must never forget our history with the ruling family of Asgard, or rely too much on their seemingly innocent intentions.” We all nodded grimly, and there was a long moment of silence.

“We should start preparing for the banquet tonight,” Daucus eventually reminded us, to a chorus of groans. “The guards should eat before leaving—you’ll be expected to continue guarding us through the whole thing, so you won’t be given food or a seat at the table.”

“More standing,” Laharu grumbled, weaving a few strands of aether to soothe the muscles of his unaccustomed plantigrade legs.

Malalik, the midnight-colored leader of our little quartet of guards, looked back over her shoulder at him as she was collecting plates of food from the well-stocked buffet table in our suite. “Be thankful you’re not one of the diplomats,” she told him as she handed him a plate. “Trying to eat politely while navigating the politics involved would give me a headache.”

We all peered curiously at the contents of our plates, poking and sniffing each object dubiously, while our ambassadors watched us with faintly amused smiles. Finally, Scathsa picked up a squishy, off-white cube of something and popped it into eir mouth. “At least the food is good,” e said indistinctly. The rest of us began picking at the unfamiliar items, and were pleased to discover that more of them were pleasantly tasty than otherwise. The two elders discussed diplomatic strategy while we ate.

After nearly an hour of getting properly attired again, with much mutual advice and assistance, an Aesir courier and several guards were summoned to guide us to the banquet hall. Armored and inscrutable once more, we followed them to our first dinner in Asgard.

Chapter Text

Our diplomats had been assigned seats near the head of the long banquet table, between members of the ruling family, and it was not entirely coincidental that I wound up standing behind Daucus’ chair, who was seated next to Loki. For this occasion, we guards stood in pairs with our backs against the wall, looking inwards at the table over the heads of our charges but giving the servants plenty of room to do their own jobs. Since our expressions could be clearly seen by everyone seated on the opposite side, we were careful to maintain our impassive masks for the entire event, although this was quite difficult at times. We also refrained from making aetheric comments to each other, since Odin and Loki at least would be able to see them, though as far as we knew they probably wouldn’t be able to interpret what they saw, or the fluctuations in our aetheric patterns that we allowed to play like expressions across our physical forms.

There seemed to be a fragile bubble of formality surrounding the head of the table. Conversation was stilted and rather sparse. Thor in particular did not speak much, staring at his wine cup with a scowl that darkened as the noise at the other end of the table increased. Finally, he stood up from his chair.

“Thank you for dinner, father. Thank you for your attendance, Niddroghn. Please accept my absence, as there are matters I must attend elsewhere.” He didn’t wait for approval before stalking away to join a group of other Aesir closer to his own age at the far end of the table.

“I’m frankly surprised he lasted as long as he did,” Loki remarked with just the hint of a smirk.

“My heir is not adept at diplomacy, and has little patience for formality.” Odin shook his head and signaled for his cup to be refilled.

At the mention of Thor being Odin’s heir, I noticed Loki’s aetheric pattern—his aura—flicker with jagged bolts of dark blue, though his manner did not change in the slightest. I wasn’t familiar enough with Jotun to know exactly what this signified, but I would have wagered a stack of gold coins that he was feeling some strong, unpleasant emotions.

“He will learn,” Frigga said, with serene confidence. “Time and experience will temper him. And of course, he will have the wise counsel and support of his brother, who possesses every measure of patience that Thor does not.” Her smile at Loki was warm, her aura glowing gently with strong, genuine affection. His own aura brightened in response as he returned her smile.

“He yearns to be a warrior king, following in the footsteps of his ancestral heroes.” Odin snorted and gestured at Aizerue. “He takes his band of adventuring companions across the realms, looking for problems to solve, preferably with his hammer. I have strictly forbidden him access to Jotunheim, else I fear he would shatter that fragile truce in an instant.”

“The young are given to impetuousness,” Aizerue said, a subtle reminder that our people’s lifespans run as long as those of the Aesir, if not longer. “I am pleased to know that our negotiations will be made with more measured temperaments.” E bowed eir head to Odin, Frigga, and then to Loki. I didn’t need to see his aura to confirm the Jotun’s pleasure at this acknowledgment.

Odin raised his eyebrows. “It is true that my eldest son has more to learn before he is ready to take the throne; but so too do you, Loki.” He waved at his adopted son, who blinked at him in surprise. “Both of you will take part in the negotiations.”

A jumble of colors flickered through Loki’s aura, but his expression was perfectly calm as he nodded to his father, pressing his fist to his chest in salute. “I thank you for the honor and the responsibility, and will strive to represent the Aesir to the best of my ability.”

A burst of raucous cheers from the other end of the table drew everyone’s attention. Thor had seated himself with his friends, one of whom had climbed onto a chair and seemed to be attempting to show the others the sole of zir boot, to much shouted encouragement. Zie almost immediately lost zir balance and crashed directly onto the table, sprawling amid the banquet dishes, to a chorus of laughter and hoots from zir companions.

“I will also strive to keep a tight rein on my brother,” Loki added quietly. His aura was once again bristling with bursts of dark blue lightning as he glared down the length of the table at his adopted sibling.

It was hard to keep from smiling.

At the end of the banquet, those of us who had been standing guard were more than happy to escort the diplomats to our assigned quarters for a chance to rest. We agreed to draw lots to determine who would sleep in the sauna room each night. Daucus won the first night’s privilege. There was just barely room for one of us youngsters to squeeze in with hir, and Scathsa won that draw. The rest of us made the best of it in Aesir forms, on Aesir furniture, in an Aesir building, in the Aesir capital. Between all of us, I doubt that we slept more than a dozen hours.

Daucus and Scathsa were disgustingly cheerful the next morning. The rest of us grumbled, wrapped ourselves in clothes and armor, and drank two pots of very strong tea before a page arrived to show us to the meeting hall.

The hall itself was startlingly plain. Having grown somewhat accustomed to ostentatious architecture and endless golden ornamentation, the lack of decoration in the meeting chamber was rather soothing. A long, oval table surrounded by a dozen hovering chairs dominated the room. On the far side of the table, our hosts rose to greet us—Thor, Loki, and several others who introduced themselves as various diplomats, scholars, and strategists. There was a brief moment of tension before the four Aesir guards turned and marched out of the room. We followed them, leaving Aizerue and Daucus to begin their work while we took up positions in the hallway outside and prepared for a long wait.

It was dull, but I amused myself by watching the aura of my Aesir counterpart across the hallway. Zie had recently fallen in love. Every time zir attention wandered, zir aura bloomed with a webwork of intricate patterns, punctuated with bright bursts of light. Being able to see auras is far from reading minds, but it’s the next best thing, especially when observing people with no training or defenses against it. It’s often possible to guess what a person is thinking in a conversation based on the emotional responses flickering across their aura, if you have learned the aetheric patterns of the person’s species. Also, warriors usually telegraph their movements in their auras, and knowing what to look for and how to take advantage of it is part of why my people are so feared and respected on the battleground. It was a strategic advantage that I knew our elders would be making the most of in the treaty discussions, as well.

After a few hours, servants arrived to bring food to the delegates. We accompanied them in, along with the Aesir guards, and watched closely. Once lunch had been served, we retreated back to the hallway, each of us carrying a hidden small container of food we’d gathered from the trays ourselves. The four of us took turns to eat and rest, setting an illusion of ourselves still standing at attention while sitting on the floor behind, enjoying an invisible and silent snack. There was plenty of room in the wide hallway and little danger of accidental contact, so our illusions were the simplest kind—projected images with no substance at all. Our intelligence reports had assured us that the majority of Aesir were unable to detect or see through even the most basic illusions, and this also served as a positive test of that premise, since the guards never reacted with even a flicker in their auras.

I was very glad for the break. The guards opposite us had been changed, and we faced a different set of four than we had before lunch. The Aesir standing opposite me now had an utterly boring aura. For whatever reason, zir emotions were disconnected from zir thoughts. Only the occasional ripple of color or movement broke the otherwise blank, slow swirl of zir aura, and it was hard to keep my own attention from wandering.

By the time the meeting was adjourned a few hours later I was beyond relieved to be done for the day. As the Aesir delegates trooped out of the room and into the hallway, Loki glanced back at me and winked again, his aura shining and sparkling under his solemn expression. I stared at him for a moment before snapping back to attention. Whatever his intentions were in making that gesture, my curiosity was now fully engaged.

Chapter Text

After we returned to our suite, I asked for and gained permission to go out alone and see if I could establish contact with the enigmatic Jotun. The original plan had been to keep our heads down and collect information before making a move, but since Loki was going to such lengths to get my attention, we all agreed that it’d be a waste not to accept the implied invitation.

I selected a loose, flowing tunic and trousers from the collective wardrobe, and Daucus helped me choose the colors and fabrics. Between the two of us, with some advice from Aizerue, we fussed with the clothing for quite a while before settling on its appearance. Those of us whose genders were unknown or unfamiliar to the Aesir had structured our humanoid forms to be as androgynous as possible. The Aesir fashion code called for elaborate, long gowns for females, and either armor or tunics and trousers for males, but we’d documented enough exceptions that I felt reasonably certain the assembled outfit wouldn’t violate the rules too badly in either direction. Besides, I’d chosen bright gold eyes, a shoulder-length mane of iridescent crimson fur, and burnished copper skin for my Aesir guard shape, all of which marked me clearly enough as an alien that any irregularities in my costume would likely be overlooked.

The next trick, of course, was to find my contact. Our embassy had been sent a half-dozen invitations for private gatherings, receptions, and celebrations just on the first night, but there was no way to know which if any of these he’d be at. On the other side, it seemed very likely that he’d be keeping an eye on my movements. I decided to make a leisurely tour through the party circuit and see what happened. If nothing else, I’d be able to pick up a sense of how the populace felt about our people.

Leaving the suite and navigating the halls of the enormous palace wasn’t difficult. As I neared the entrance to the first party, however, my pace began to slow. I couldn’t be a silent warrior here; this situation would call for careful observation, smooth social skills, and a good measure of guile. I found myself wondering if I was really ready to mingle with the Aesir on this level. Perhaps I should have waited a week or so, as we’d originally planned, to gather more information and get a better feel for how these people behaved?

While I hesitated in the hallway, a pair of revelers came out, laughing and leaning on each other, one waving a mug with enough drink still in it to spatter across the nearest wall. They stopped short when they saw me. With the appearance of an audience, my performing instincts and training fell into place. I smiled and half-bowed to the pair. “Good evening, gentle beings,” I said, then strolled past them and into the party.

The room was large, high-arched, and full of Aesir drinking, shouting, jostling each other, and laughing. My entrance was greeted with a moment of silence, quickly followed by a ripple of cheerful greetings and offers of hospitality. Pretending to only have a limited grasp of their language allowed me to eavesdrop on various conversations as I circulated through the room, but I wasn’t learning much I didn’t already know. An hour later, I still had no idea who the host was, or even whether this gathering was taking place in someone’s home or in some kind of public drinking hall. I felt obliged to accept every drink that was pressed into my hands, which meant frequent trips to the washroom to remove and dispose of accumulated toxins. Aesir alcohol is famously strong, and while I had a high tolerance for it in any form, the amount that I was being given would have incapacitated a being twice my normal size. As it was, I didn’t have to feign muddle-headed tipsiness.

After the third party, the tipsiness was turning to drowsiness, and I was more than a little annoyed. I leaned against the wall outside the latest drinking hall and sighed as I consulted my personal guidance pattern to determine the next party to try.

“Worn out so soon? The festivities have only just begun, you know.”

My head snapped up and I blinked at Loki, strolling towards me down the corridor. His outfit seemed only slightly less formal than what he had worn to the ceremony and banquet the night before, though I saw with some regret that he wasn’t wearing his fetching horned helmet. His smile was just shy of a smirk as he approached, hands clasped behind his back.

“It might take me a while to get used to Aesir entertainments,” I said, shutting down the guide pattern and straightening up from the wall. “It’s a bit more—boisterous than I was expecting.”

“You’ve only seen the entertainments of the commoners,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I am glad that I found you, as I’m on my way to a gathering that I suspect will be far more to your tastes. Would you care to accompany me?”

“That sounds delightful.” I smiled and fell into step beside the Jotun.

We left the palace and walked along a broad, open-air avenue, lined with huge statues and graceful trees, stone arches framing the breathtaking night sky. Light fell from enormous torches held aloft by the figures far above, providing plenty of illumination without obscuring the stars and creating the appearance of gently flickering firelight. The overall effect was lovely, although I felt it was somewhat spoiled by the looming, grandiose figures of ancient Aesir heroes.

“Were you trying to get my attention earlier today so you could bring me to this other party?” I asked as we walked. I suppressed a wince at my own bluntness, but I was intoxicated enough that attempting a more subtle approach would probably just end up confusing myself.

Loki chuckled. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Although it’s more accurate to say that this party is a result of your response to my unspoken overtures.” I nodded slowly, digesting this information.

“As far as why I am attempting to contact you particularly, rather than one of the diplomats…” He seemed to hesitate for a moment. Something bright flickered across his aura, too quickly for me to identify. “You were the one facing me in the throne room. Target of opportunity, as it were.”

“Ah. Fair enough,” I replied, accepting this explanation at face value, although it was obvious that it wasn’t the whole story. I made a mental note to try to tease the real reason out—probably at some later time when I was more alert.

“Speaking of the throne room—you obviously know who I am.” He smiled and raised his eyebrows, but it took me a moment to catch on.

“Sigynazor,” I said, sounding out my name as closely as possible in the Aesir dialect. “But please, call me Sigyn.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sigyn.”

We walked in silence for a few minutes. I wasn’t sure if the distance was really so far, or if he was deliberately taking a longer route.

“May I ask you a—potentially delicate question?” he said.

“Of course,” I responded a bit absently, still trying to figure out where exactly we were.

“What gender are you?”

I stiffened, breaking stride a little, then took a silent deep breath and gathered my composure. I had been warned about this, we’d discussed and rehearsed it thoroughly, but I had been distracted, and perhaps not expecting it so soon. I also felt a tiny bit disappointed in the Jotun, though it was very likely that he hadn’t known better.

“I’ve offended you,” he said, pausing in the shadows beneath an enormous tree. “I apologize, and withdraw the question. Please, forget I asked.”

“No… it’s all right.” I looked at him and made an effort to smile. “Just so you know—we don’t mind talking about our genders or reproduction in general terms at all, but among my people it’s considered incredibly rude to ask a person their gender directly. If a person wants it known, they’ll signal it one way or another, though we wouldn’t expect someone of another species to be able to decode or even notice the signals.”

Loki half-bowed with an open-handed gesture. “I understand, will remember, and will endeavor to discreetly let others know, to avoid future offense.” If we hadn’t been standing in a dimly-lit patch, shaded from the wavering light of the giant torches above, I probably would have missed the flicker of golden curls that spun across his aura as he spoke like faint smoke in a breeze, and dissipated in seconds.

I nodded to him briefly. “Thank you. I use the pronoun set zie-zir—’Zie is over there, I have met zir.’ Perhaps we can… discuss it later, when we’ve gotten to know each other better,” I added, unsure whether he would pick up what would have been a blatantly flirtatious hint to another of my kind. He smiled in response, the colors of his aura flowing rapidly in patterns I didn’t quite know how to decipher. After all the work I’d done to research the Aesir, being unable to read Loki was both frustrating and intriguing.

“Please allow me to clumsily change the subject,” he said, his smile widening to almost a smirk as he gestured to a nearby archway. “We are nearly at our destination.” We walked the rest of the short distance to an unimpressive wooden door in silence.

I had been expecting a blast of the usual noise—cheers, laughter, singing—when the door opened, but instead the first thing I heard was delicate instrumental music. Two Aesir sat on a dais on the far side of the room, playing unfamiliar instruments in a haunting, complicated duet. The rest of the room was occupied with a scattering of young people, sitting or standing, listening to the music or talking quietly. Loki paused in the doorway without speaking, and I took advantage of the opportunity to close my eyes and enjoy the sensory experience. The aetheric currents, the low murmur of the crowd, the smells of food and flowers, the gentle brush of a light breeze, all wove together into an intricate tapestry of sensation as I imprinted the scene on my memory, saving a few minutes of unexpected beauty in Asgard to be recalled and savored again over the course of my long life to come.

The music ended, and there was a wave of light applause as I opened my eyes. The partygoers turned to face us with expressions of pleased anticipation. Stepping forward, Loki gestured across the room. “Good evening, my friends,” he said, and just that easily, he became the focus of the entire gathering. I would have suspected some kind of sensory magic or even mind control, but I could see that he wasn’t manipulating the aether.

“I am pleased to introduce you to Sigyn,” he continued, “a member of the delegation from Nastrond. Sigyn, this unruly rabble is collectively known as the New Constellation.” He half-turned in my direction and added in a theatrical whisper that could clearly be heard across the room, “They wouldn’t let me pick the name.” Far from being offended, there was a ripple of laughter from the crowd, and even some applause.

Loki then led me on to a few more individual introductions. It was interesting to watch these young Aesir nobles competing to catch Loki’s attention, and their almost giddy responses when he spoke to them personally. I wasn’t sure how much of it could be attributed to his lofty position in the ruling court of Asgard, and how much of it was a result of his personal charm. He deposited me in a small group under the care of an Aesir named Ragnar, who was fascinated by the political and social structures of other realms, particularly in the idea of government by elected representation. There was a constant circulation of people in and out of our little half-circle of chairs, but all of them were at least passingly interested in the discussion. Some of zir questions were clumsy and misguided, but others were surprisingly insightful, and at times I had difficulty maintaining the shroud of mystery that we habitually used among outsiders. I had unexpected help from Loki, who always seemed to drift past the conversation just in time to deflect it away from uncomfortable lines of inquiry. Although I couldn’t give him my full attention, I did notice that Loki had made a minor aetheric connection to me that allowed him to listen in on my conversation. Amused, I allowed the link to remain in place.

As the night wore on and the alcohol continued to flow, the conversation became more abstract, then downright silly. We were exchanging and explaining jokes when I felt a gentle pulse of warning from the aetheric assistant-pattern woven around my wrist, reminding me that I would be expected to be on guard duty in the morning and that I needed at least a few hours of sleep.

Even as I began to make fumbling excuses and farewells, Loki appeared at my side. I relaxed and let him do the social work of extracting me from the conversation, and then from the party. A few minutes later, we stood once again on the torchlit avenue. The light, chilly breeze helped clear my mind a little, but I was still more than slightly intoxicated, and the palace looked very far away.

“I don’t suppose you can ride a horse,” Loki said, with an appraising look.

“I do suppose I could,” I replied with tipsy dignity. “I never have, though, and I’d prefer not to try learning tonight.”

He smirked at me. “A boat, then,” he said, taking a trinket from his pocket. He blew into it, producing a piercing whistle, then put the device away. “We shouldn’t have more than a few minutes to wait—less, if the boatman is sufficiently attentive.”

I nodded, then yawned hugely, remembering halfway through that I was supposed to cover my mouth. “Why horses?” I asked.

Loki blinked at me. “Why what?”

“Why do you use horses?” I clarified, leaning against a low wall and trying not to yawn again. “You have skybarges. Wouldn’t they be more efficient?” I didn’t mention teleportation, since it was obvious that the Aesir either didn’t have that technology or chose not to use it casually for whatever reason.

“Hmm… that’s the kind of question that would have delighted the New Constellation,” Loki said. We both looked up as a quiet hum descended from above. The skybarge came to rest alongside us and we stepped aboard. Loki said a few words to its pilot, and then we were gliding through the night sky, the lights of Asgard diminishing and flowing below us.

“Some people from that party we just left would say it’s because our society is stagnating in anachronism,” he said, leaning back on the barge’s padded bench. “When Asgard was created, it was an island of stability in an ocean of war. The foundation of this city is an ancient citadel, and everything that was first built here had to have a strategic reason. In that age, horses were a priceless resource, and they became a symbol of Aesir civilization as we rode them across the realms.”

I nodded. “Yes, but—surely you could have used them as, well, symbols, without having to keep the actual animals?”

Loki laughed. “You think they’re just animals?” he said, in a gently mocking tone. “They may be an archaic affectation, kept mostly for reasons of sentimentality, but we’ve been raising and breeding them for hundreds of thousands of years.”

The skybarge landed on a platform that I recognized as being fairly near our suite. We disembarked, and Loki waved the driver away, then turned back to me. I realized that he was noticeably shorter than the form I was wearing. Between his ancestry as a Frost Giant and the larger-than-life force of his personality, this detail caught me by surprise.

“Aesir horses are nearly as strong as our warriors,” he continued. His tone and stance were casual, but I could see curling tendrils of green in his aura that seemed to reach out towards me and then twine back on themselves, like strands of water weeds in a gentle current. “They regenerate almost as quickly, and are intelligent enough to carry out complex battle maneuvers on their own initiative—as well as decide when to follow orders and when to ignore them.”

“Almost as smart as Aesir?” I teased, but Loki nodded.

“They live for centuries. Those of us fortunate enough to have horses think of them… less as property, and more as companions, even friends.” He paused, and as I tried not to stare at the wisps of his aura swaying towards me, he suddenly smiled. “I hope one day I might take you to meet my friend, Svadilfari.”

“I’d be honored.” I smiled back, then hesitantly reached up to make the Aesir shoulder-patting gesture that indicated friendship. Before I could touch his shoulder, Loki intercepted my hand and gently pulled it aside, pressing the back of it to his lips while keeping eye contact with me.

At the end of a long, eventful day, trying to process large quantities of alcohol while perilously close to exhaustion, I was at a complete loss for a response. I stood frozen, staring at him as my body reacted for me. My heartbeat and respiration rate quickened, blood rushing through my veins. I tried to slow my breathing, and quickly realized that if I did I might actually lose consciousness. My face felt uncomfortably warm.

Loki held my hand still, watching my face, then released me with an enigmatic smile, even while his aura coiled around my hand as if trying to maintain contact. I made an inarticulate noise, still wondering if I was about to pass out.

“Thank you for a delightful evening,” he said, giving me one last half-bow before turning and walking down the corridor without a backwards look.

I stood there for several minutes, until I was reasonably sure I could make it into our suite without falling over. As soon as I entered, Laharu told me rather grumpily that I had won the draw to sleep in the sauna room with Daucus. I immediately stripped off my clothes and stepped into the cozy, steaming warmth. Daucus was already deeply asleep, only twitching hir tailtip once as I transformed into my native shape and then sprawled out alongside hir.

The heat helped me burn the last of the alcohol toxins from my body, and I sighed deeply, then began replaying the events of the evening in my mind. I was expecting to fall asleep while doing so, engraving the memories for later detailed scrutiny. Instead I lay awake, dozing but not quite sleeping, eyes half-closed in the darkness as I inspected the scenes I had witnessed. I lingered over the last few minutes, when Loki had kissed the back of my hand, with particular enjoyment. My quiet, rumbling purr echoed through the chamber, until a combination of ideas snapped together and I reared my head up with an abrupt snort. Daucus’ tailtip twitched again, and I rested my head back down on my forelimbs, but I wasn’t purring any more.

When Loki had asked my gender, I’d assumed it was a lack of understanding on his part. But I knew the descriptions of the forms we were all officially to use in Asgard were in the documents we’d supplied for the embassy long ahead of time, including our preferred genders and pronouns. Not to mention that the dossier we’d sent ahead had specific explanations and instructions about discussing such things diplomatically. It seemed unlikely that Thor would have read the documents, but even without knowing beforehand that he’d be part of the negotiations, it seemed even more unlikely that Loki hadn’t. It still might have been an innocent misunderstanding—but the timing of when he’d asked, just before bringing me into the party, was a factor as well. What better way to ensure I’d be a bit off-kilter right before introducing me to the gathering? He’d surely noticed that I was at least mildly intoxicated, and while he hadn’t brought me any drinks at the party, plenty of others had been happy to keep a full cup in my hands at all times. Had he been hoping that I’d let something slip? Had he, in fact, set up the entire situation to impress me, draw me into the orbit of his charisma with the appearance of informal, reliable friendliness? And then sealing the evening with a kiss on the back of my hand, a gesture that he had to know I would recognize as an Aesir courtship signal?

Looking back over the memory of when he’d asked my gender, I saw again the tracery of golden curls that flickered across his aura. As I examined my memories of the evening, I realized that I’d seen it a few other times as well, though not so clearly. In fact, I’d seen hints of it almost every time he’d moved in to intercept my questioners.

My tail lashed fretfully against the floor as I understood that I’d just learned how to recognize the aetheric representation of guile in a Jotun.

Aizerue had been right, I reflected as I coiled my tail tightly around myself. He was a Frost Giant, but he’d been raised in Asgard, and I couldn’t trust Loki any more than I could any of the other Aesir. He was playing political games with me, just as I was supposed to be doing with him. Though it had happened long before I was hatched, our people’s betrayal by the ruling family of Asgard was the reason we were here—the reason we had gone to war against them, and the reason I could never trust anyone related to Odin Borson, even by adoption.

I reminded myself to debrief my memories of the evening to Aizerue in detail as soon as possible to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently spilled any of our secrets, and see if we could figure out if any of theirs had been revealed. As I began my sleep-inducing meditations, I thought again about the attention-seekers that had clustered around Loki at the party, and resolved myself not to become one of them.

Chapter Text

The next day passed uneventfully. Loki made brief eye contact, but didn’t wink or give any other indication of favor when he walked past me to the conference room. I wanted to be relieved, but instead felt mildly disappointed.

That evening, I went over my impressions of what I’d observed at the party with Aizerue and Daucus. They confirmed that I hadn’t leaked any important information, and that Loki was definitely up to something, although they couldn’t agree what exactly his intent was. I also shared my theory that the golden swirls across his aura indicated deliberate deception. At my request, Laharu created a minor spell that would help me burn off alcohol more quickly and added it to the aetheric pattern of my Aesir shape. The rest of the guards ended up using it too, though the diplomats chose to go without.

Those new pattern adjustments were soon put to the test. Each of us eventually attended a party or two over the next handful of evenings, the guards alone or in pairs, the diplomats always with one or two guards. When we were alone, we could participate in the revelry if we chose, but when we were on duty with our seniors we had to maintain the stoic, expressionless image we’d cultivated so carefully.

We were all very aware that we were always being watched. The policy decided on before we arrived was that we would not block our quarters from Heimdall’s view unless there was an emergency, while Scathsa’s security net identified and disabled anybody else’s attempts to monitor our suite. As soon as we walked out of the door, though, we were fair game for anyone who wanted to spy on us in the palace. We spotted at least half a dozen cameras aimed at our door during our time in Asgard, but there was only ever one aetheric tracer buzzing around, and it always followed me in particular. I didn’t mind much, since I had a similar tracer on Loki, following him whenever he left his own well-warded rooms. I had no idea if he was aware that I was watching him exactly as he was watching me, since he never brought the subject up, and I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to broach the topic.

By the fourth day, things had settled into a routine. I’d been passing the time during the afternoon shift by practicing aetheric mind-weaving—the art of creating magical patterns without using one’s hands, a skill I was rather weak in and determined to improve—when Thor burst out of the meeting room, slamming the doors open, his aura blazing with fury. The half-formed pattern disintegrated immediately as my attention snapped to the angry Aesir.

“You would give the very ground we stand on to these creatures!” he roared, holding out his right hand in a strange gesture. “We know their history, we know they cannot be trusted. These negotiations are a farce!”

Something came whirring down the hall, a streak of light that I barely had time to register before it smacked firmly into Thor’s hand. Mjolnir glazed with aetheric and technological power, brightly enough to make my eyes water.

“They are here to learn our defenses, find our secrets, and once they have that knowledge they will use it to invade and destroy us.” Thor glared at myself and Malalik, who happened to be standing beside me on the same side of the doorway. We looked back impassively, though both of us were tense, acutely aware of the power of the weapon he held.

“Thor… we have spent centuries laying the foundations for these talks,” one of the Aesir diplomats said in a weary tone, still inside the room. Zie had obviously given this speech several times already. “The Niddroghn have complied with every security demand, have even given us information to guarantee—”

“Enough!” Thor waved his hammer in our direction. I couldn’t help flinching away from it, and Malalik twitched visibly. “I will not take part in these games any longer! My friends have told me of conflicts brewing among the realms, no doubt at the direction of these—monsters.” As he ranted, Loki emerged from the conference room. He glanced around, then walked to stand between us at Thor.

“It is past time for us to ride out and quell those disturbances,” Thor continued, though he lowered Mjolnir to his side as he transferred his scowl to Loki. “Brother, you will come with me.”

“As much as I’d love to join you on your petulant rampage, there are things here that I am responsible for,” Loki replied. His expression was calm, but his tone had a biting edge and his aura rippled with pulses of a dark, greenish-red disturbance. “If you are so intent on abandoning your own obligations to go play at being a petty warrior king, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”

I saw by the white flashes across Thor’s aura that his adopted brother’s words had accurately targeted his tangled knot of duty and guilt, but they were almost immediately displaced by a bloom of dark red fury. “More likely, you’re enjoying the company of these—reptiles,” he sneered. “Your blood is as cold as theirs.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, but didn’t rise to the bait. After a moment, Thor turned and stomped away down the corridor, Scathsa and Laharu stepping back quickly to stay well out of his way. The Jotun sighed, looking around at all of us and then into the room. “I’m very sorry you had to be subjected to that,” he said with a slight wince before returning to the conference room and closing the doors firmly behind him.

We resumed our positions in the hallway, staring at the equally impassive Aesir guards opposite us, but I could sense the crackle of worry in my aura reflected in those of my companions.

Chapter Text

That evening, everyone in our group was invited to attend a gathering held by the New Constellation. After a quick conference, Aizerue decided that we would all attend. Based on my report from the party I’d been to earlier, our diplomats agreed that the young nobles were more aligned with Loki than Thor, perhaps to the extent of being sympathetic with our position. This seemed the perfect opportunity to test how far that sympathy extended.

As we entered the hall, Loki was the first to step up and greet us. “Thank you so much for coming tonight,” he said, giving Aizerue a half-bow. “I wanted to apologize again for my brother’s—outburst during the negotiations, though the talks should proceed more rapidly and pleasantly now.” He smiled, and there was a quiet ripple of laughter through the audience behind us, though none of us dared show a flicker of amusement that might be construed as mocking the heir to Asgard’s throne.

“You are welcome guests here,” he continued, stepping aside and gesturing to the small gathering. “Please, make yourselves at ease.” The diplomats bowed to him, then allowed themselves to be absorbed into the crowd. As we’d decided before leaving the suite, I followed Aizerue and Malalik shadowed Daucus, staying a few paces behind but keeping an alert eye on the people around them. Laharu and Scathsa faded back to the edges of the crowd, occasionally repositioning themselves to maintain a wider view around our elders. In a fairly short while, the Aesir were ignoring the guards completely, the same way they treated the palace guards as so much furniture.

It was fascinating to watch Loki at work among the New Constellation. He connected each of our diplomats with a young noble or two, introducing them and offering a topic of conversation. He then circulated through the party, pausing to speak to people, making sure goblets were filled, and smoothing over any potentially uncomfortable or unpleasant situations before there was more than a whisper of conflict. I crafted a minor illusion to make it appear that I was giving Aizerue my full attention, so I could continue to observe the Jotun’s behavior. None of the Aesir so much as blinked, but Loki glanced in my direction and flashed me a smirk, clearly aware of my attention.

It wasn’t difficult to pick up the general theme of conversations in the gathering, even though I was barely listening to them. Most of the New Constellation had learned of Thor’s behavior in leaving the conferences, and agreed that his behavior showed it would be a long time before he was ready to take the throne of Asgard, if that time ever came. I heard it expressed several times that Loki would make a much better ruler, though never in the Jotun’s presence. More curiously, I also overheard a few mentions of Ragnar as a potential king of Asgard, which seemed very odd considering his well-known, passionate interest in the virtues of a representative government. There were also many expressions of concern and sympathy for our delegation, and wishes that the peace talks would proceed smoothly so that perhaps more Niddroghn could visit Asgard.

I quickly realized that Loki didn’t have much interest in actually changing the way Asgard was ruled. He supported the idea of a representative state in conversations with the group, but the gold curls in his aura indicated quite clearly that he had other ideas in mind. What those other ideas might be… I could guess, but he kept his true plans carefully guarded.

After an hour or so, one of the Aesir stood on a raised platform at one end of the hall and clapped for attention. The crowd quieted, most of them sitting down, although of course those of us who had the roles of guards continued to stand. Several members of the New Constellation then took turns giving speeches. I was a little surprised at how brief and entertaining the speeches were, until I noticed Loki’s subtle aetheric manipulations at just the right moments, and realized that not only had he probably written most of them, he was also coaching them as they spoke. The general theme of the speeches was, unsurprisingly, that the New Constellation welcomed a treaty with Nastrond, which would bring about a new golden age of peace and prosperity for both our peoples, as well as some political change in Asgard which was agreed to be quite overdue. I couldn’t tell if the speeches were for our benefit, or for that of the young nobles themselves, but it seemed that this event had been planned some time ahead.

Eventually, Loki himself stood up on the platform. “I am afraid that our friend Ragnar was unable to attend this gathering,” he told us. “He would no doubt have spoken of the value of a system of representative government, but I will not attempt to do so in his stead, as I am sure I could not match his passion or eloquence on the subject.” He smiled, and the crowd laughed in response. I watched a ripple of orange-gold light expand out from the center of his aura, and tentatively identified it as pleasure. “Instead, I would like to say a few words about the peace talks I have been conducting with the Niddroghn. Don’t worry, I won’t be giving away anybody’s secrets,” he added, smiling at Aizerue, though our ambassador hadn’t said anything.

“Overall, the talks are going well.” There was just enough room on the little stage for him to take a few steps to either side, and he paced them slowly, his hands clasped behind him, as if he were having a casual chat while out for a walk. I thought of our first unofficial meeting, realizing that he was wearing the same gilt-edged jacket he had that evening, and wondered how much of this performance was for my benefit alone, if any. “I am pleased to report that we have been making better progress than we might have expected, despite some resistance, and since that resistance has chosen to withdraw from the discussions, I hope that we will continue to make significant gains.”

I wasn’t present inside the conference room for the actual meetings, but the other guards and I listened closely to the diplomats’ discussions every evening. We were apprentices as much as protectors, and this vital mission provided the opportunity for a learning experience like no other. So I knew perfectly well that most of what was being discussed in the talks currently was painfully boring minutiae—setting up the legal structure to determine potential taxation on trade that didn’t yet exist, for example, and point-by-point comparisons of scientific knowledge so that both sides could potentially learn something without giving away important secrets. Loki’s speech made it all sound much more exciting, but it was empty of meaningful information. Every carefully chosen word and gesture was enhanced by subtle aetheric manipulations, some of them so subtle that I suspected he wasn’t doing all of it consciously. He beguiled his audience the way a musician played an instrument. I couldn’t help admiring his skill, even while wondering whether I was falling under his charismatic spell.

When his speech ended, there was polite but enthusiastic applause, and a return to casual talk and mingling. After an hour or so of this, Aizerue began making excuses, and Loki assisted us in withdrawing from the party, then offered to accompany us back to our suite. Aizerue accepted, eir aura sparking with curiosity. The diplomats made polite small talk with the Jotun as we rode a skybarge back to the palace, while we four guards stood at attention.

I think we all expected him to bid us goodnight at the doors to our rooms, but instead he asked if he could step inside for a moment. Aizerue gave him permission to enter, with a flick of eir aura at Scathsa to double-check our security. The rest of us guards were somewhat at a loss. In our own rooms, we had the freedom to relax, but it seemed we were still on duty. Aizerue offered hospitality in the form of food, drinks, and a seat to Loki, but our guest waved his hand. We all blinked as his gesture released a tightly-woven aetheric pattern that enveloped our small group.

“I apologize for this diversion,” he said, giving us all a slight nod. “I have cast a spell that will shroud us from Heimdall’s view for the moment, as there is confidential information I must give you.”

He glanced at me as he continued. “Young Ragnar, whom some of you have met, came to me earlier this afternoon in some distress. I haven’t been able to get much information from him yet, only that he has been contacted by someone and offered some kind of opportunity that he finds terrifying—and that it involves your visit here. I can’t find out more from him at the moment, as it appears the information was given to him under the binding of a major geas.”

A ripple of surprise flickered through our group. “Do your people have the skills to break the geas?” Aizerue asked, eir voice placid.

“I do,” Loki replied. “Anyone else who could break the pattern would also have had the ability to apply it in the first place, and since I can’t know who set the geas on him until it’s removed, I can’t trust any of them.”

“Why tell us, then?” Aizerue asked.

“Because I’m fairly certain that your group isn’t responsible for the geas,” Loki said with just a hint of a smirk, which vanished as he continued. “And I may need help. I’m going to relocate Ragnar to somewhere more secure, elsewhere in the realms, before trying to unbind the geas, for his protection and to minimize the chance of discovery before it’s done. It will take time, and will probably cause me to miss at least a few of the negotiation sessions.”

“How would our assistance be required?”

Loki spread his hands, as if offering us something or showing that he was unarmed. “I believe I have sufficient skill to remove the geas, but it’s possible that it may be outside my abilities. Your people are well known for your skills with aetheric weaving, and in this situation, you’re the only ones I can trust.”

“That makes sense,” Aizerue said with a nod. “Daucus is a training master at holistic weaving…”

Loki interrupted smoothly, his aura swirling with golden curls like smoke in a gentle breeze. “Although an elder would be invaluable, if either of the diplomats are absent from the negotiations, it will attract attention—and suspicion.” He glanced around our little group. “But I’ve seen your expertise with illusions several times. It shouldn’t be too difficult to create an illusion to cover the absence of one guard.”

It was a transparent, but completely logical, excuse. Aizerue nodded again. “We will make the arrangements, then. Do you require assistance transporting your—friend?”

“No, thank you.” Loki bowed slightly. “I will send a message with instructions for meeting whomever you select to assist me. I should remove the shroud now, before it catches Heimdall’s attention. Thank you, and I will provide you with further information as I acquire it.” Without waiting for a reply, he made a sweeping gesture of one hand, gathering up the threads of the pattern he’d cast over us and compacting it into a small tangle of knots. “I bid you good evening,” he said, giving us all a pleasant smile and another half-bow, before turning to walk briskly down the corridor.

We closed the doors, then stood looking at each other for a minute, before everyone turned to stare at me. “I’m going to need some fast brushing up on my aetheric weaving skills, aren’t I?” I said, managing to suppress a sigh.

Before anyone could reply, from the back of the group Scathsa let out a shout of triumph. “I did it! Managed to grab a sample of that pattern he put up around us, and I’m pretty sure I can recreate it from this. Excellent!”

Chapter Text

None of us got much sleep that night. Daucus and Laharu worked together to put me through a crash course, part refresher and part new information, about medicinal aetheric pattern breaking and reweaving. Several carefully crafted information packets were woven into my own pattern, giving me insights that normally would take months or years to understand. It’s not an ideal way to learn new skills—the information is forgotten more quickly, and once a large chunk of it is gone, the rest of it tends to dissolve into a mess of confusing associations—but it allowed them to instill me with a variety of techniques that we hoped would cover most of the problems I might soon encounter.

Meanwhile, Scathsa worked on analyzing the pattern sample e’d taken from the shroud Loki had used, and experimenting with ways to integrate it into our own wards. Aizerue and Malalik analyzed Loki’s words and behavior, speculating about his honesty and motivation, and trying to work out if this incident with Ragnar advanced Asgard’s interests, breached our security, or was just the simple request for help that it was presented to be. I could just overhear their conversation, and it distracted me repeatedly from my tutoring session. Finally, Daucus and Laharu took me into the sauna, where I couldn’t eavesdrop on the other conversation. I wasn’t off the hook when we went to sleep, either. Crowded as we were, we slept in our native forms, sharing dreams to help imprint my studies more deeply into my own memories.

When we left our suite the next morning, all of us were expecting a message from Loki. Instead, even his usual aetheric tracer was missing, and we proceeded to the conference room without incident. The only unusual event was Frigga greeting us at the entrance to the hall, who explained to our diplomats that she had come to apologize for the absence of both her sons, and authorize the Aesir delegates to continue as before. She stayed through part of the morning session before excusing herself with other duties. The conferences continued as usual through the rest of the day, still with no sign from Loki. I’d spent my time in the hall on guard duty crafting a detection and alert pattern, and as we entered our suite, I spread it in the hallway, a spiderweb of aetheric threads to snare whatever message might be sent through that medium and bring it immediately to my attention. After quizzing me to make sure the information they’d imprinted was still intact and accessible to my recall, Daucus joined Aizerue in reviewing the day’s negotiations, while Laharu joined Scathsa in puzzling out the security pattern sample. I laid claim to a far corner in one of the suite’s bedrooms, pushed the furniture into as cozy of a nest as I could make of it, and curled up in my native form, falling almost instantly into a deep, exhausted sleep.

I woke suddenly in the early hours of the morning, feeling a tug in the strands I’d woven the night before. I jumped up, shifting into my guard shape, and trotted into the common room. Malalik was sleeping on a couch near the door, and as I approached she raised her head, blinking at me.

“I think this is the signal we were expecting,” I said, and paused. “Should I put on my armor?”

Malalik yawned. “I wouldn’t bother,” she said. “But then, I wouldn’t bother with it at all if Aizerue didn’t make us wear the stuff.”

“It sounded like he was taking Ragnar somewhere else—possibly another realm,” I said, thinking it over. “The armor isn’t inconspicuous, and it’d be just as much of a bother to maintain an illusion over it, or more. I’ll go without.” I grinned at Malalik as I draped myself in the appearance of my usual guard’s uniform. “I guess I’ll find out just how well Loki can see through other people’s illusions.”

My captain snorted and leaned back. “Have fun with that,” she said, closing her eyes, “but maybe not too much fun. Remember that your job is to bring back information, not give it away.”

I opened the suite door and looked out into the hallway, immediately spotting Loki’s aetheric message tangled in the threads of my own weaving. “I’ll remember,” I said quietly, closing the door behind me and reaching up to accept the message.

It draped me in the shroud Loki had used before, the one he claimed Heimdall couldn’t penetrate, and gave me a simple pulse of information, directing me down the hallway to the skybarge platform nearest our suite. I walked briskly, but stayed alert. Whatever the Jotun’s intentions, there was always the chance of others willing to seize a convenient chance for violence.

A small, sleek skybarge was tethered at the dock, covered in the same ward that had been wrapped around me and making the barge as difficult to see as if it was formed from clear glass. As I approached Loki stood up and half-bowed to me, then did a wide-eyed double-take as I passed through the shroud and came into clear view.

“Ah… decided to dispense with the pesky clothing this time?” he asked, his eyebrows raising as I climbed into the skybarge.

“It was quicker than putting that armor on,” I said, grinning at him. “You should try going naked under an illusion sometime—it’s quite freeing.”

“I was in my third century when I learned that trick—and I did, for a while.” He piloted the craft up into the sky, skimming away from the palace in the growing pale light before sunrise, then turned back to look at me with a smirk. “Mother made me stop.”

I laughed, settling back into my seat. “I’m always a little bit surprised that most Aesir are unable to see through illusions,” I said. “I know there aren’t many technomancers in the court—unless there are some who are good enough to conceal their aetheric signatures from us.”

Loki wagged his finger at me. “I would be giving away sensitive strategic information if I told you that,” he said, his tone playful. He had almost completely recovered his composure, but I could see a slight flush across his pale cheeks as the sun rose.

“I apologize if I’ve caused offense, or made you uncomfortable,” I said, wincing slightly as the thought occurred to me.

“I’m not offended, I’m just… distracted.” He cleared his throat, sitting down on the bench at the back of the skybarge, but keeping his hand on the steering rod. “It helps that you’re so casual about it, and that, well… I hope you won’t be offended in turn, but—there isn’t much to look at.” He made a vague gesture at my chest.

I looked down at my body, wondering if he meant the lack of scales on my coppery-red skin, but it took me a minute to understand what he was referring to. “Oh! These Aesir shapes are for convenience, and specifically designed not to pass as a true member of your species—it was one of the requirements for our visit. So we didn’t bother to add details that wouldn’t show up most of the time anyway. Besides, our natural forms don’t have nipples, navels, or body fur.” I looked back up at him, just in time to see him glance away. “Would it help if I added them on?” I asked, amused.

“No—that would definitely be more distracting.” Now he looked back at me and raised his eyebrows. “You should probably change the illusion you’re wearing, though. That guard armor is very distinctive.”

I nodded. “That’s another reason I left it behind,” I said. “May I copy what you’re wearing, then? It’s difficult for me to build images of clothing from memory alone.”

“Yes, that should be fine.”

“Would you stand up, please?” I asked. “So I can get a good look at how it all fits together.”

Now it was his turn to look amused as he stood, then turned around as I directed. “I’m glad I didn’t wear anything too complicated today,” he said as he sat down again.

I didn’t reply for a couple of minutes, my eyes closed as I created the pattern of the illusory clothing and grafted it to my aetheric form, so the illusion would maintain itself without my direct concentration. I changed the color of the shirt, from Loki’s forest green to a dark red, but otherwise kept the details of his close-fitting black pants and calf-high boots. “How is it?” I asked, standing up and turning around slowly for his inspection.

“Very good,” he said. “I don’t think my gold neckband suits your complexion, though.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, and changed the angled collar to a metallic black. “Should I change my complexion as well?”

“It won’t be necessary,” he said, checking a readout on the skybarge. “We shouldn’t encounter anybody other than… our friend, and this way he’ll recognize you.” He made a small adjustment to the tiller, then looked at me, tilting his head. “You’re either very confident in your abilities or very trusting, to be led away from your companions with a story like mine.”

I leaned back on the cushioned bench and shrugged, a shoulder-moving gesture close enough to a wing-twitch to be natural for me in this form. “A little of both,” I confessed. “I’m trained as a warrior, and we have cause to believe in your—good intentions. And, in all honesty… I’m expendable.”

His expression clouded a little as he watched me. “I see,” he said quietly.

“Don’t misunderstand,” I said, smiling. “I worked hard to secure a place in this delegation, and I knew there would be risks involved. And the elders wouldn’t risk my life needlessly. But if the situation arises, I’m prepared to sacrifice myself to ensure their safe escape.”

He nodded, then turned away to fiddle with the skybarge controls, which I took to mean that he didn’t want to continue that line of conversation. I noticed that the green tendrils I’d seen in his aura before were back, waving gently as if in a breeze other than that made by our flight. They seemed to reach towards me, curl back on themselves to be reabsorbed, then emerge and reach again. I extended my own aura, sending a thread out to intercept one of the tendrils. They passed through each other, and I saw him startle and shiver, then look back at me.

“Why do you want our negotiations to succeed?” I asked. I didn’t know if he’d give me a direct answer, but it appeared to be a good opportunity for a candid conversation.

Loki blinked at me, then raised his chin slightly as the tendrils withdrew. “As I said the other night, I am hopeful that a lasting, permanent peace between our people will open doors to bring about prosperity and enrichment for us all.” Wisps of gold threads trailed around his aura as he spoke.

“Certainly,” I said, nodding. “But why you? Surely you have other things you could be doing instead of working on the negotiations. And don’t say it’s because your father ordered you to,” I added as he was opening his mouth. “I’m sure you could leave as easily as your brother did if you wanted.”

“Hmm.” He considered for a moment, watching me. “In truth, there really isn’t much else for me to do. My brother and I are supposed to be undergoing extensive training to ready us for the responsibilities of leadership, but Thor prefers to go rampaging around the Realms looking for fights, and yet due to his status as Odin’s firstborn we all know he’s going to be the one to become king anyway.” Loki looked out over the side of the skybarge, his aura flickering with dark streaks of blue lightning as he struggled to control his bitterness. “When my brother does ascend to the throne,” he finally continued, “someone needs to have the skills and experience in diplomacy to keep him from starting wars from one side of the Realms to the other.”

I wondered why he was avoiding the subject of his taking rulership of Jotunheim, but put the question aside. I wasn’t supposed to know about that, and I wasn’t going to be the first to bring it up. “So, peace in the Realms, and diplomatic practice for you,” I said, watching the slow curling of golden wisps. “That does give you a solid motivation.” I left the implied question hanging, curious to see if he would take the lure.

From his smirk as he turned back to me, it was obvious that he knew I was baiting him. “Well, there is another, more personal reason.” The smirk melted away as he looked down, as though considering his words. I would have dismissed this as a performance, but the gold curls were diminishing and slowing—not entirely fading, but moved to the background of his aura.

“You mentioned earlier that most Aesir are unable to see through illusions,” he said, finally looking up at me. “Magic—technomancy, the aetheric arts, whatever you choose to call it—is not well appreciate din the current society of Asgard.”

“I’d gathered as much,” I said dryly, but Loki shook his head.

“You’ve only seen the surface,” he said. “There’s a saying you may not have heard… ‘Some do battle, others just do tricks.’” Loki’s expression twisted up on the last word, and he stood up, then began to pace. “I let Thor get away with saying that to my face, but nobody else dares. It’s always in their thoughts, though. I can fight as well as any of them, but no amount of warrior’s prowess can wipe away the fact that I can, and will, use the aether. And it doesn’t matter to them whether it’s to charge my knives with power and save their lives, or create veils of smoke so we may retreat and regroup in safety. Was I ever thanked? Did they ever praise me for my skills? Of course not.” His hands clenched into fists, jagged dark blue lightning flickering across his aura. “All the praise and thanks go to Thor and his mighty hammer, while all I ever received was thinly veiled contempt and centuries of mistrust.”

“They value the physical appearance of power,” I mused, “but are afraid of the subtlety of power they can’t see.”

“Yes! That’s it exactly,” Loki said, sitting down again. “And as a result—it affects me personally, of course, but it’s also weakening our entire civilization, as generations of Aesir are brought up to completely disregard entire branches of scientific study. Some of the New Constellation are learning technomancy, but they don’t take it seriously. They’re doing it to be seen as rebels without taking any actual risks, to outrage their parents, or to make a political statement.”

“So you’re hoping that increased exposure to our people, who use aetheric technology on a regular basis, will help to make it more acceptable in Aesir society?”

Loki inclined his head, spreading his hands out in front of him. “And there you have it,” he said, smiling. There was a bright curl of golden smoke, and I knew it wasn’t the entire story. Before I could respond, though, he was standing up, guiding the skybarge down into a rocky canyon far outside the city. “And here we are.”

Chapter Text

I could almost smell the tension in the aetheric currents that was the telltale sign of a hole torn between the realms. I’d sought out and traveled a few hidden paths in my life, but not often, and I wasn’t expert enough to tell the size of the rent, or what realm it was connected to. The barge drifted down until it rested, rocking gently, on the surface of the sea that flowed from Asgard’s central mountains to cascade over the edge of its odd topography.

“You’ll want this,” Loki said, handing me a necklace before draping an identical one around his own neck. As I held it I recognized it as a diver’s charm, which would provide a bubble of breathable air around the wearer’s head as they moved underwater. I debating telling Loki that I didn’t need it, since I was capable of holding my breath much longer than most Aesir and in a pinch could give myself rudimentary gills, but decided that it’d be easier to wear it instead.

“You can swim, yes?” he said, pausing on the edge of the skybarge. I nodded, and he smiled. “I thought so, but it’s always good to check.” Without further preamble, he stepped over the side of the barge, plunging into the clear water.

Once I was in the water as well, Loki surfaced and whistled a command to the skybarge, which lifted up slowly along the wall of the canyon, still covered in its obscuring shroud. “It’ll park nearby, but not too close,” he said, then looked at me holding onto the rocky shelf beside him. “Follow me closely, but do try not to get kicked in the head.” He grinned and twisted a thread of aether around his fingers, giving it a faint greenish glow, then ducked his head under the water and began pulling himself down along the wall of the canyon.

I followed him, using the rocks to guide my path as I swam and trying not to let myself get distracted by the glimpses of marine life I could see through the clear, bright water. The aetheric scent of the hole grew stronger as we continued down, though I couldn’t yet see it. Loki, climbing head-down like a squirrel, abruptly twisted and then vanished below me. I hastened to follow him, and in a moment I saw him again, treading water as he waited for me under a shelf of rock, completely hidden from the surface. He smirked at me, then swam off, gliding just under the stony ledge. The sunlight faded rapidly into a gloomy half-light as I followed the glow of the light in his hand.

The horizontal plane of the rock above us intersected another vertical wall that continued down into the sea. Along the inside corner where they met was a fissure in the stone, making it look like one brick had been placed atop another pair, but the edges hadn’t been perfectly aligned. A triangular hole tunneled into the fissure, and I followed Loki into the dark tunnel.

The uneven walls of the submerged cavern were very close, and I bumped my shoulders, knees, and hands against the stone several times. Without Loki’s light, it would have been pitch black. I could sense the change in the aetheric composition of the water and knew that the passage between realms was close, but I had no idea how long the tunnel would continue underwater. I was very glad that I’d accepted the necklace when I realized I was long past the farthest point I could have held my breath. The cavern seemed to bend almost vertically, so that we were climbing up a chimney, but then abruptly it shifted, and I felt I was falling head-first down into the darkness. I paused to clear my head, and noticed that the light ahead of me had also stopped. After a few moments we continued on. Soon, the passage leveled to a horizontal tunnel again, before opening out into the bowl of a small lake.

I broke the surface next to Loki and looked around. His dim light spell was sufficient to show that we were in a natural cavern. The air was clean, but stale, and I guessed that this chamber was far underground. I followed the Jotun as he swam to the edge of the lake and climbed out onto the uneven rocks.

“What realm are we in now?” I asked, my voice echoing in the darkness.

Loki sketched out a simple aetheric pattern, and I felt the water coursing off my body, leaving both of us dry and warm. “Nidavellir,” he said, as he bent to inspect the toes of his boots, then used another pattern to repair the slight abrasion damage that had been done to his clothing in the tunnel. “This cavern is unconnected from the surface, with a collapsed tunnel completely blocking any entrance other than the way we came. Ragnar’s camped just a little down this way,” he added, gesturing to what I’d thought was a shadow on the irregular wall, but turned out to be the mouth of another tunnel, this one big enough for us to walk through together.

The passage climbed briefly and brought us into a large gallery, much larger than the sauna room in our suite in the palace. I could see the full extent of it by virtue of a constellation of lights in various colors, some attached to pillars, others drifting freely like small clouds. The entire chamber was covered in Loki’s now familiar shroud, and I traced the pattern to a small device, which I guessed was providing power to keep the ward active as well as an anchor for the spell. There was a small pavilion near the center of the cavern, and as we approached it a flap opened. “Loki? Who’s that with you?” Ragnar’s voice was sharp and querulous in the gloomy silence.

“Do not fear, my friend.” As we emerged into the well-lit center, Loki allowed the light wrapped around his finger to disperse. “I have brought Sigynazor, our friend from the Nastrond delegation, to help me. Zie can be trusted.”

Ragnar tumbled out of the tent and stared at me, then at Loki. He seemed healthy, but disheveled, and I winced at the wild fear and agitation that bristled across his aura. “To help? To get this out of me? I can feel them looking for me, they still demand me to do… the thing,” he said, nearly choking on the last few words as he forced them out past the web of the geas.

“Calm yourself, Ragnar,” Loki said, glancing at me before approaching the red-haired Aesir and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, that is why we are here. But we are a bit chilled from our swim—would you be so kind as to provide us with some mulled cider?”

“Yes, yes, sorry, yes my lord, I’ll bring it in a moment,” Ragnar said, the words tumbling out in a stuttering rush. He bowed low to Loki before scurrying back into the tent.

“He’s not normally this—servile, is he?” I asked quietly.

“No,” Loki said, frowning. “In fact, he’s usually—or previously was—my strongest opponent.”

“I was afraid of that,” I said. “It’s… not a good sign. It means that the geas is probably hooked into a very deep level of his aura, to a core of obedience.” I sighed as Ragnar emerged from the tent, with two steaming goblets balanced precariously on a golden tray. “I hope we can preserve his mind.”

Ragnar eyed me suspiciously as he approached, and extended the tray like a shield between us as I took a cup. When he turned to Loki he bowed again, holding the tray up like an offering, and didn’t straighten when the Jotun accepted the other goblet.

“Please, stand up, my friend.” Loki sipped the drink and grimaced, then changed it to a pleasant smile as Ragnar unbent, clutching the tray in both hands. I sniffed my drink and decided to set it down and possibly tip the cup over at the first opportunity. I wasn’t sure how it was possible to ruin mulled cider, but Ragnar had evidently managed it.

“Would my lord care to, to sit down, I can provide refreshments—”

“I think we should get to work right away,” I said. “Do you have a bed in your tent, Ragnar? Could you bring it out for us?”

“… my lord?” the Aesir said, looking at Loki.

“Please do.” Loki nodded in the direction of the tent, and Ragnar scrambled away.

“We’re going to have to do this with him unconscious,” I murmured. “He’s in no state to handle the work we’ll need to do awake.”

“Agreed,” Loki said, as we watched Ragnar push a floating sleep platform out into the cavern. “Let me handle this.”

I nodded and faded back into the shadows, pouring the failed cider out behind a rock as I listened to Loki’s soothing, coaxing voice. There was a brief interval of silence before he called me back out to where Ragnar was settled peacefully on the hovering cushions.

Neither of us spoke for several long minutes while we watched the sleeping Aesir. With his conscious feelings and reactions muted, I could clearly see the geas—a webwork of fine black threads that extended deep into his aetheric field. The complexity of it was daunting, and I realized I was hesitating just as Loki took a deep breath.

“I’ll start raising a lattice,” he said, looking up at me. “We’ll probably need to pull his entire aura off his body.” He raised his hands and began building the aetheric framework that we would use to tether strands as we worked to untangle the massive knot of the geas.

“And while you’re doing that, I’ll slip into something a little more comfortable.” I caught the quick stutter of Loki’s magic and smirked as I stepped back. “It’ll be easier to work in my natural form, without having to maintain any illusions or shape-patterns.” He’d already recovered his composure, and only nodded in response.

I admit I was mildly piqued by his lack of reaction. I was also somewhat nervous about the task to come, which was making me restless and twitchy. I decided to show off a bit in my transformation, while also going through a meditation designed to help ground me in my native form. At first, I was pleased to notice by the taste of his aura that he was watching me, but as I continued the exercise of the meditation I became distracted in the enjoyment of returning to my natural shape.

Finally I sat up on my haunches, giving my neck one last stretch and shake, and feeling more comfortable than I had in days. I opened my eyes to see Loki staring at me wide-eyed over the completed lattice. I stared back, my scales prickling in the current of tension that coursed between us, and realized that we were both experiencing mild shapeshifter resonance. It was weak, due to him being pattern-locked, and I wondered if he had ever felt it before, or even knew what it was. Green tendrils reached over and through the lattice towards me.

“I, ah. I’ve finished the frame,” he said, clearing his throat as he glanced back to the structure of aetheric lines.

“Good,” I said, then paused, floundering a bit as I tried to think of something else to say. I closed my eyes, letting myself relax back into the peace of experiencing my true form, then looked up at him with a smirk. “You’re not intimidated by working across from a dragon, are you?” I asked in a light tone.

Loki replied with a smirk of his own. “I’ve done aetheric work almost as complicated as this while under attack by demons in Muspelheim,” he said dryly. I was both disappointed and relived to feel the tension created by the resonance draining out between us. “Let’s lift his aura up into the framework and see what needs to be done.”

Chapter Text

My original intention had been to unweave or break the pattern of the geas-spell itself, but we soon realized that it was far too complex for us to unravel without more advanced equipment and much more time, and far too powerful to risk breaking. Instead, we agreed to untangle it as far as we could, and cut Ragnar’s connections to it at that point. Ragnar’s pattern would heal—eventually, probably—but it seemed likely that the backlash from trying to break the pattern entirely could injure or even kill us all. I felt a little guilty for having come instead of Daucus, who had centuries more experience than I did, but I also believed that ultimately hie would have made the same choice.

The process was tedious and nerve-wracking at the same time. Every thread that we considered for cutting had to be traced, to make sure we didn’t break something vital in Ragnar’s mind or spirit. I was fervently glad of the years of study I’d put in before coming to Asgard into the aetheric patterns of Aesir. Loki wasn’t as familiar with auras, but he had an intuitive understanding of Aesir reactions to aetheric manipulation which several times saved me from making poor or even disastrous choices. As more of the geas was untangled and cut free, we were able to lift and bind it into the lattice above Ragnar’s aura, where it roiled above him like a cloud of poisonous smoke. It wasn’t sentient, but it was malevolently active, and very determined to stay attached.

After several hours, we both needed a break. I went back for a quick swim in the lake we’d entered through, while Loki prepared some food from the stores he’d supplied for Ragnar’s stay. We chatted and joked casually while we are, but the dark cloud of the geas seemed to cast an oppressive shadow that we couldn’t quite shake, and we soon went back to work.

Finally, we agreed that we had disconnected enough of the geas to try cutting its remaining attachment to Ragnar’s aura. I stood up on my hind legs, stretched out so I could use my claws to grasp and pull the pattern up. It was resisting me, and I found I was straining to keep a grasp and continue lifting it up and away from Ragnar’s form.

“Stop, stop!” Loki shouted. He’d been watching the remnants of the geas that still extended into Ragnar’s aura. We’d hoped that we had found and cut all the connections, but we didn’t want to leave it to hope. “There’s a snarl of it still tangled up,” he said, reaching in and pulling at the strands.

“Cut it loose,” I said, nearly panting with the strain of holding the rest of the geas pattern away from Ragnar’s threads. “It’s fighting me—I can’t hold it up here much longer!”

“It’s curled all around his memory,” Loki said, a note of panic in his voice. “I can’t cut it out, and it keeps tangling back when I pull it loose.”

I started swearing in my native language. I couldn’t let go of the pattern, or it would rebound back into Ragnar’s aura and become even more entangled than it already was. Sudden arcs of pain shot through my claws and I nearly dropped the geas, snarling in surprise and pain.

“Void above, it’s—pull it one more time,” Loki said, his voice hardening. “I’m going to cut it.”

I didn’t have the attention to argue with him. Clamping down on the pain that was creeping up my arms, I strained again, concentrating on holding as much of the pattern as I could while pulling it farther aloft and away from its victim.

At first I thought that the geas had jerked free, and I was lifting it with my own strength. I tried to stop, and realized that it was rising in an explosion of uncontrolled aetheric energy. I was thrown backwards across the cavern, the pattern disintegrating in my claws, and slammed to the ground hard enough to stun me for a few moments.

I got my forelegs under me and shook my head. The lights were swinging wildly, knocked out of their paths by the blast, adding to my disorientation. My body was regenerating, but I could tell that my own aura was badly disrupted.

“Sigyn?”

I looked up to see Loki wobbling towards me, then closed my eyes again, unsure how much of the wobbling was due to his unsteadiness or disruption in my own vision. Shaking my head again, I held up a foreclaw. “I’m… all right,” I said, hoping it wasn’t too big of a lie. “Ragnar?”

I felt Loki approach and take hold of my arm. “He’s fine. Most of the blast went up; he was knocked to the ground, but not injured. He’ll need to sleep for a while.” There was an odd sensation that I guessed was Loki inspecting my aura. “You’re… not looking well, Sigyn.”

I tried to protest again that I was all right, but it came out as an incoherent grunt. Frustrated, I tried to send information to him directly through the aether—that I just needed some time, he should go tend to Ragnar, and by the time he was done with that I should be functional again. I’m not trained as a telepath, and I have no idea how clearly it came across or how much of it Loki understood, but he withdrew. I curled up and went through the grounding meditation again, more slowly and carefully, paying close attention to sorting out my own pattern.

I opened my eyes as Loki returned, and was pleased to see that the cavern lights were back in their serene, slow orbits. By the time he reached me I’d shifted back into my guard shape and was wearing the illusory clothing I’d crafted earlier. I was very glad that I’d thought to graft on the pattern of the clothing when I made it, rather than having to recreate the illusion from memory. Loki helped me stand up, and I smiled weakly. “We should definitely leave now,” I said. “I’m all right—nothing that a day or two of sleep won’t cure—but I’m not going to be able to stay awake much longer.”

“Ragnar is stable and settled,” Loki told me. “There aren’t any branches or forks in the tunnel, so I’m going to have you go ahead of me—if you have a problem, I can help you more readily that way, and I won’t worry about leaving you behind.”

I nodded, and we walked back to the lake. I would have liked to change into a much smaller form and have Loki carry me back, but displacing that much mass with an unfamiliar shape requires energy and concentration, and I was very short on both. I couldn’t suppress a shudder at the thought of what would happen if my concentration slipped and I revered to my native form in the tunnel. The guard-pattern was already grafted to my aura, so once it was activated it took no energy to maintain. Loki turned and seemed about to say something, but instead he draped the waterbreathing device around my neck, then conjured a tiny light spell and passed it to my hand. I gave him a smile that probably looked as terrible as I felt, and pretty much fell into the lake.

Getting through the passage was a nightmare. I kept drifting off, and when I did Loki would send me a gentle push of energy to get me moving again for another length of tunnel. The transition between realms and the tuns of the tunnel disoriented me so completely that I only knew I was still heading in the right direction from Loki’s constant presence behind me. Even my physical regeneration was slower, and I was accumulating many bruises, scratches, and abrasions from the rough walls of the cave. Each time, the pain gave me a jolt of adrenaline at first, helping to clear my head and letting me move a little quicker. As the pain faded the sleepiness would creep back, heavier than before. I began deliberately banging my head and knees against the tunnel walls, dragging myself between each moment of injury.

Suddenly the tunnel walls were gone, and I was drifting in the water. There was a rock wall beside me, but I had no idea what its orientation was, and no energy to figure it out. Loki had to drag me along behind him. I tried to give at least a little bit of assistance paddling, but every time I did Loki had to turn me around from swimming sideways or down, and I soon gave up, going lip in his one-armed grasp as he pulled me the rest of the way to the surface.

The water gave everything a dreamlike quality, and I wasn’t entirely conscious anyway. My awareness flickered, and I thought I might have been leaning against the canyon wall, Loki keeping me upright as something grew rapidly overhead. Then I was tumbled into the skybarge, sopping went and sprawling limply on the floor. I felt myself lifting, and wondered when I’d decided to go flying again, then felt a warm breeze and realized I was flying through the Valley of Prisms at home, letting the warm updrafts carry me in a gentle glide through something that was half memory, half dream.

Some time later, I opened my eyes to a panorama of stars and swirling clouds, glowing purple in the last of the day’s light. I felt like I was wrapped in a snug, warm blanket, but when I tried to pull it closer around me I realized it was an aetheric creation. I blinked, then raised my head from the cushioned bench of the skybarge and smiled at Loki where he sat at the tiller of the boat. “Thank you,” I told him.

“For—oh, that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.” I would have argued if I’d had the energy, but instead I closed my eyes again, my head drifting down to rest on an invisible pillow.

“Sigyn…” I opened my eyes, but didn’t raise my head, and made a humming noise to indicate that I was listening. Loki stared at his hands, and seemed to be struggling with himself. Just as I was about to drift off to sleep again, he said very quietly, “I am sorry.”

“Hmm?” I blinked and tried to focus on his aura, but my aetheric perceptions were still jumbled, and all I could see was a mass of dark green tendrils that stretched towards me.

“I made the decision to cut the geas pattern instead of Ragnar’s aura, even though you’d warned me not to.” He looked up at me, but in the growing twilight I couldn’t make out his expression. “I made a mistake, and it ended up hurting you badly. And… I truly regret that.”

I propped myself up on an elbow and gave him what I hoped was a stern glare. “You made the best decision you could under difficult circumstances,” I said, enunciating the words very carefully. “It sounded like cutting Ragnar’s aura at that point might have crippled or killed him, and I wasn’t giving you time to try anything else.” Fuzzy-headed as I was, it took me a few moments more to realize how tense he was. I couldn’t begin to figure out why, but I suddenly realized what he needed to hear from me. “Loki… I forgive you.” I smiled and held out my hand.

For a second I thought he was going to drop to his knees, and I think he did too, before he bent at the waist and caught my hand, brushing his lips against my knuckles. He lowered my hand, but didn’t let go as he smiled back at me. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

I left my hand in his grasp as I lowered myself back to the seat of the skybarge, my eyes drifting shut. The green tendrils curled up around my wrist, and I could feel them, soft and warm, against my aura. “Don’t worry,” I murmured, already fading into sleep again. “It should be much easier to break the lock on you.”

If he replied I didn’t hear it, falling back to glide through the Valley of Prisms again, in the company of a vaguely comforting, friendly presence.

Chapter Text

I slept during the rest of the trip back to the palace. When we arrived, Loki insisted on walking back to the suite with me, which I appreciated. I was strong enough that I probably could have made the walk on my own, but now I had a piercing headache, accompanied by stabbing pain in my eyes whenever I looked at a light source. When the doors opened, Loki had a brief conversation with somebody—probably Aizerue—which I completely missed, as Daucus and Laharu immediately carted me off to the sauna. I wanted to talk to Daucus about what we’d done with Ragnar, but I didn’t have the concentration to resist their gentle insistence on doing a thorough pattern check and mending on me. I fell asleep in my natural form, and when I woke I felt much better, though still not up to my full strength.

It was very fortunate that I was restored enough to play my guardian role again, as the next morning our entire party was summoned to a smaller, private throne room early in the morning, before the regular time for negotiations. Odin and Thor were present, as well as Thor’s companions, who I’d learned were known as “the Warriors Three” despite the fact that there were obviously four of them. The fourth was “Lady Sif,” a celebrated anomaly for being a female Aesir champion. I knew that in the history of Asgard both males and females had been considered equally capable of being warriors, and there had even been an all-female regiment of elite fighters known as “Valkyries.” I guessed that this might have changed during the era of peace, when Asgard did not need every hand that was capable of holding a weapon to do so, and most martial pastimes were relegated to hobbies or career soldiers.

I didn’t spare much thought for which of the four might be female, since as soon as we entered the royal presence all of us were acutely aware of Thor’s rage. His companions were calmer, and two of them seemed uncertain and even nervous about Thor himself, but the other two were also angry, and powerfully armed.

Odin’s aura was a blank mask of white and gold lines. I didn’t know if this reflected his ability to manipulate his aetheric pattern, if it was an effect of his office, or of the powerful weapon, Gugnir, that never left his side and which blazed with strength that rivaled Thor’s hammer.

We approached the throne and knelt, fists pressed to our chests. “You may rise,” Odin said, his demeanor as calm as ever.

“My son believes he has found proof of your treachery,” he said as soon as we were standing, with the same serene detachment. I suppressed a blaze of surprised agitation in my aura, as I was sure the rest of us were doing. Without knowing the extent of Odin’s aetheric powers, we had to assume he could read us as easily as we read other Aesir.

“I don’t believe, I know it for fact!” Thor snarled. “We tracked down some leaders of the bandits that have been causing us trouble across the realms, who told us that they have been given encouragement and resources from the claws of a dragon, an envoy from Nastrond. Some of them were armed with weapons far beyond what their primitive cultures could have made—weapons that could only have been brought to them along the secret paths, that are well-known to you devious wyrms!”

“What have you to say about this information, Niddroghn?” Odin asked, his tone still impassive.

Aizerue stepped forward. “There are two points that come to mind, Highness.” Our senior diplomat’s voice was as even and untroubled as Odin’s. “The first is that, just as Aesir are free to travel between the realms for their own purposes, so too are our people. We cannot monitor or control the secret ways in the same manner that Heimdall watches the Bifrost. If only one Niddroghn chose to use those paths for ill deeds, it cannot be said that zie represents our entire realm.”

“A transparent excuse!” Thor snapped. “It would be easy for you to set one serpent on this task, and then deny knowledge of it when the deeds were exposed!”

Odin tapped the butt of his spear once on the podium. It should have made no more than a small thump, but instead a tremendous boom rang through the entire chamber. “You have had your say, and will have the opportunity to speak again,” Odin told his son calmly. “Do not interrupt.” He turned back to Aizerue and nodded. “Please continue.”

“My second point,” Aizerue said, “is that we Niddroghn are not the only people who are capable of weaving illusions. It is possible that those you spoke to had been deceived by someone wishing to pose as one of us, either to discredit our mission of peace here, or for other purposes.

“I have a suggestion that may address both of these points,” e continued placidly. “We have the ability to take a person’s memories from zir mind, and show them as an image to others. I believe this power is also known to the technomages of Asgard.” Odin nodded again. “Through this image, it is possible to inspect the aetheric properties of things the person has seen, even if zie has no ability to detect aetheric currents zirself. To solve this mystery, I would ask that another of these troublemakers who has seen the supposed dragon first hand be apprehended and brought back to Asgard for more careful examination.”

By the time Aizerue finished, it was possible to see that the Warriors Four approved of this proposal even without being able to read their auras. One of them was actually nodding agreement. Thor’s expression and aura still showed sullen rage, but he didn’t seem to have an objection to the idea.

“This is what shall be done,” Odin said. He turned to look at Thor. “You will take your warriors and find a person who has seen the supposed dragon, capture them, and return them here, alive. Go now.” The Warriors Four saluted and bowed. After hesitating a beat, Thor did the same, then glared at us and marched out of the room with his companions in tow.

Once his son had left the circle of columns, Odin seemed to relax somewhat, though his aura was still unreadable. “Unlike my heir, I know that every ruler must content with subjects who will take action against his wishes, and I recognize that this person may be a renegade.”

Aizerue bowed eir head. “I have the authority to speak for my people when I say that if it is found that the troublemaker is Niddroghn, we will gladly lend any and all support required for that individual to be apprehended. I am confident that once in custody, we will be able to demonstrate beyond doubt that zie acted as an individual, without our approval or knowledge.”

“That is as may be,” Odin said heavily. “However, if it is found that the person behind these troubles is in fact a dragon, Thor is not the only one who will be incensed against you. It will create difficulties that may hinder the treaty from going forward.”

“I understand, Highness,” Aizerue said. After a formal exchange of farewells, we were herded out of the throne room and back to our suite.

A herald arrived soon after and informed us that there would be no conferences until Thor returned with a captive, and we were diplomatically requested—though not ordered—to stay in our rooms for the duration. Being elders, the diplomats had little difficulty settling themselves to wait patiently. I gave my report about what had happened with Ragnar, and the elders agreed that I’d generally done well, although Daucus said some pointed things about my work on Ragnar’s aetheric pattern that made me wince. After dismissing me, the two of them retreated to the largest bedroom suite to discuss their negotiations and plans.

I took advantage of the unexpected break to spend the morning and afternoon dozing in my native form in the sauna. By the time I emerged that evening I felt completely recovered, though ravenously hungry. I scavenged through the remnants of lunch, just before the evening meal was delivered by the usual contingent of servants and guards. The soldiers were stoic as ever, but while the servants had previously been willing to at least exchange a few polite words, now they kept their eyes averted and worked in silence. After a couple of attempts at conversation had been rebuffed, we backed off and let them finish and leave unmolested.

“Word seems to have spread, at least among the palace staff, of our supposed treachery,” Daucus said, shaking hir head.

“Stuck in here with nothing to do, and now the servants won’t even talk to us any more?” Scathsa complained. “I hope Thor doesn’t decide to go off slumming and party for a month in Midgard.”

“I doubt it,” Aizerue said mildly from where e was sprawled out on a divan. “Thor was very angry, and it’s not in his nature to be tricky or subtle. He’ll be looking for fights, and it sounds like most of the fights easily available will lead straight to our mysterious opponent.”

“And if you need something to occupy your time with…” Malalik said, eyeing Scathsa.

The younger guard shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know,” he sighed. “Drills, lessons, and training exercises. And I’ve already added that nifty pattern Loki gave us to our own wards, so you don’t have to fuss at me for that.”

“Only layered in, not integrated?” Laharu said, peering into the aether. “Seems a little sloppy, compared to what I’d expect from your work.”

Scathsa reared up angrily, already gathering aetheric threads in preparation for yet another round of ward-working rivalry between the two guards. Malalik rolled her eyes, but I saw the diplomats exchange a grin before they delved back into their own pursuits. I suppressed a sigh as Malalik gave me a significant look, and steeled myself for my own share of drills, lessons, and training exercises over the course of our confinement.

Chapter Text

After only two days of detention in our rooms, there was a pounding at the doors. Breakfast had already been brought in that morning and it was still some time before lunch should arrive. Malalik glanced around at us, seeing that we were all giving our full attention, then opened the door to find a lone palace guard.

“The presence of your senior diplomat is required immediately,” zie announced. “To be accompanied by one guard only.”

I couldn’t help wincing. It seemed very likely that my expedition with Loki to free Ragnar of the geas had been discovered, since if Thor had brought a captive back we would all have been summoned. Aizerue had evidently come to the same conclusion, as e stood up and nodded to me.

Even during our confinement, our elders had insisted that we guards continue to wear our armor during the time that would have been used for the negotiations, for practice and in case of an emergency. To be fair, they’d also worn their own ceremonial robes and adornments, so we couldn’t complain that we were being burdened unjustly. And, as it turned out, it had been a very good idea.

The guard stepped aside to let us out. Once the doors were closed again, zie led us down the hall at a brisk walk. I noticed a flicker in my aetheric senses, and identified Loki’s tracer pattern following us. I found it vaguely reassuring, and wondered if the Jotun would be waiting when we arrived.

Soon we were walking along unfamiliar corridors and seemed to be heading deeper into the palace, into spaces that felt unusued or even abandoned. All of us had been on edge during our enforced wait, which I suspect contributed to Aizerue and myself not being as wary as we should. I was feeling increasingly uneasy about this situation, but at first I assumed it was from worries that I personally might have jeopardized the mission, or that I’d made some kind of mistake and gotten Loki into trouble. As we walked, the nagging feeling of something being very wrong grew. The guard’s aura showed tightly controlled anxiety, which made sense if zie was expecting resistance or argument, but zir own worried swirling was increasing, rather than lessening. As I thought about it, I remembered that we’d never seen any guards in official functions alone; they always appeared at least in a pair, if not an entire squad.

By this time we were approaching the core of the palace, the ancient stone structure that the modern building had grown from. The hallways here were narrower, the lighting not as bright. I slowed my pace and put out a hand to Aizerue as my instinctive sense of danger finally came to the forefront. The diplomat gave me a questioning look, but then glanced around the hallway and nodded, understanding my caution.

I’d expected the guard to stop as we slowed down and insist that we continue to hurry, but instead zie looked back at us over zir shoulder and then took off running down the corridor. We stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.

“That’s a bad sign,” Aizerue said, eir voice perfectly calm but aura blazing with suddenly activated wards, just before two figures came around the corner of the hallway before us and passed the guard who dodged past them and vanished around the bend.

“And this is worse,” I said, looking back to see three more people standing at the other end of the hallway through the flare of my own wards.

The two blocking the hallway ahead appeared to be Thor and one of the Warriors Four, with the three behind us making up the rest of the set. A quick aetheric double-check confirmed that these were illusions cast over strangers, two of whom were not Aesir at all. On the other claw, that same check also showed that “Thor” was not an illusion, but was somebody who had actually shape-shifted into the form of Odin’s heir. The implications of this were worrying, but more so was the fact that the impostor was carrying a Spellbreaker—a weapon designed specifically to disrupt and destroy aetheric patterns. It’s one of the few types of weapons that can badly injure or even outright kill one of our kind in a single hit by a skilled opponent.

Aizerue had assessed the situation even more quickly than I had. “I can’t shift to my true form here,” e said, moving so that e was facing the opponents in back. “I’m sorry, Sigynazor.”

I nodded, swallowing past a lump in my throat, before realizing that e probably couldn’t see me and making a verbal acknowledgment. We’d drilled and trained for similar situations, and I knew what was expected of me. I would engage “Thor” and his entourage, making as much of a spectacle as possible, while Aizerue shifted into a smaller, faster, and invisible form, leaving behind an illusion of emself and escaping. Unfortunately, the fact that “Thor” had a Spellbreaker greatly lowered my chances of surviving the next few minutes.

Though it’s possible to retain clothing and items when shapeshifting, it usually requires extra attention and energy, which I couldn’t spare at the moment. Instead, as I shifted I destroyed my armor, dissolving it into a cloud of fine particles which I gathered up and flung at the unknown shifter as my transformation completed. There wasn’t room for my preferred battle form at its true size, but I decided it would suffice at a smaller scale. I left off the wings as well, since there was no way to use them in the narrow hallway. By the time “Thor” cut through the dust of my armor, he was confronted with a bipedal dragon nearly filling the corridor in front of him, powerful back claws braced into the stone, sharp foreclaws spread, spiked tail flicking. I spread my frills, large jaws gaped open, and roared at my opponents. The impostor looked unimpressed, but his companion took several steps back, eyes wide.

Behind me, I sensed that Aizerue had created and used an aetheric pattern to trap the three opponents behind us. “Pass me one of them,” I said in our native language. There was a surge of energy as Aizerue hauled one of the attackers, still immobilized in a shroud of fine webs, along the floor and into my grasp. I easily picked the body up and threw it at “Thor.” In the same motion, I darted forward and grabbed the fighter standing next to the shifter with my foreclaws, dragging him back down the corridor to my starting position. By the time the fake Aesir had untangled himself from his helpless companion, the warrior I’d grabbed was dead and tossed aside. Again, I made a threat display and roared, now spattered with blood. There was another stirring of aetheric currents behind me as Aizerue transformed and fled down the hallway.

“Thor” remained unmoved by my performance. He’d badly wounded his own comrade in the scuffle, but he pushed the gasping body aside and faced me squarely. His aura was a blank mask of white static. We watched each other in tense silence. Between the Spellbreaker he held, his own obvious aetheric talent, and the impression of age and experience he radiated, I was the one who felt intimidated. He smiled, sensing my fear, and shifted slightly. I tried to prepare for his attack, but instead he glanced over my shoulder with a startled expression.

From the corridor behind me, a familiar voice shouted “Left!” I lurched to my left as quickly as possible, hunching against the wall, as two small slivers of bright white light flew past. Unfortunately “Thor” had been warned by the shout as well, and he batted one of the darts aside with his sword. The glow around it burst and a simple small dagger skittered down the hallway past him. He wasn’t able to stop both of the missiles, though, and the other one hit him in his leg.

I didn’t dare try to attack him physically while he still held the Spellbreaker. Instead, while he was distracted with his new opponent, I reached down and grabbed the spiked mace that had been held by the warrior I’d killed. As the impostor snarled, reaching down to pull Loki’s dagger out of his leg, I threw the weapon at him. He turned aside, deflecting it with his shoulder, but another glowing knife buried itself in his exposed arm, making him drop the sword.

I immediately snaked my head forward, snapping at his arm to prevent him from picking up the sword again, and was rewarded with a painfully hard punch to my snout. I yelped, but kept pushing down the corridor, forcing him back with slashing claws and teeth to separate him from the weapon. I tried to kick the Spellbreaker behind me, but the blade seemed to turn with a mind of its own and sliced into my foot. Screeching, I lost my balance and slammed into his chest, shoving him backwards several feet.

“I’ve got it!” called the voice from behind me. I gave “Thor” one final shove, sending him staggering down the corridor, and backed away, limping and trailing blood from my injured foot. AS I retreated, Loki stepped in front of me, holding the Spellbreaker like a shield and a pair of glowing knives in his other hand.

The person disguised as his brother glared at him, then flung out a hand, releasing a pair of aetheric patterns. Loki slashed at them with the sword, but they darted around both of us and hit their targets, the attacker’s comrades still trapped in webs behind us. Aizerue shimmered into view and knelt next to one of the warriors. I looked back at the impostor to see that he’d already cut the throat of his own wounded cohort, and was weaving another pattern—this one targeted on himself. I tried to cast a tracer on him, but he vanished before I could complete the weave and my spell found only empty air where he’d been standing.

Loki turned back to me, but I couldn’t help flinching away from the Spellbreaker in his hand. He glanced at it, then opened a small portal and put it inside. “I’ll store it in a safe place,” he said, closing the portal with a gesture. I relaxed as soon as I felt the weapon’s presence fade, then winced and sat down heavily on my haunches, rolling to rest my weight on my uninjured side.

“Don’t shift,” Aizerue said as e approached me, then bent to inspect the wound on my foot. “It might cause the pattern disruption to spread. We’ll have to reweave it in your current form.” All of us startled, then relaxed as a squad of palace guards clattered around the far corner. “Will you stay and appraise them of the situation?” Aizerue asked Loki, who nodded. “Then I will fetch one of our healers as quickly as possible. Allow no aetheric works to be cast on zir until we return, even pain blockers.” I sighed, then began to meditate in an attempt to diminish the pain as Loki hurried to intercept the guards and Aizerue slipped past them, racing back down the hall.

Chapter Text

Daucus and Laharu were able to repair my foot soon after they arrived, leaving nothing but a lingering soreness when I shifted into my Aesir guard shape. As soon as I was able to walk, Aizerue, Loki, and I were brought to a secure conference hall where we were met with Odin and Frigga, both looking grave. Odin’s pair of black avians, which I’d only caught a few glimpses of since our introduction to Asgard, were perched on his shoulders. It had been obvious from my first glance that they weren’t ordinary animals, but at the time I hadn’t been able to work out more than that, and our attention had been occupied by many other things. Now I could see that their auras were masked with white and gold lines, like Odin’s.

Odin told us that his wards had given him the basic outlines of the attack on us, but he asked for a more complete report. Aizerue prudently avoided giving details about our security arrangements but otherwise eir narration was accurate and complete, so I followed suit when giving my own observations.

“Unfortunately, I was unable to send assistance more quickly because I was distracted by another attack happening simultaneously,” Odin said gravely. “One of our treasure vaults was breached, and although the Keeper repelled the intruders, the survivors were able to loot several items in their retreat.”

Aizerue frowned. “Was the theft a diversion from the attack made on us?”

“It is possible that the attack on you was a diversion from the theft,” Odin said, shaking his head slightly. “Or both may have been equally important. Aside from the timing, there’s nothing to connect the two events. The casualties of the attack on you seem to have been Marauders.”

“The bandits that Thor is investigating?” Aizerue asked.

“Possibly,” Odin replied. “In the past they’ve never been more than opportunistic scavengers, but if somebody has been organizing them, they could be used as mercenary troops.

“The guard that led you into the trap was captured and questioned,” he continued. “He is an actual palace guard, who was convinced that you were plotting to harm Asgard in some way. His memories are vague and confused, and he never saw the true face of the person who tampered with his mind, or had any knowledge of the robbery. The infiltrator who impersonated my son was able to fool the palace wards to get himself and his associates inside, a feat which indicates familiarity with our security, as well as knowing the best place inside the palace to set up an ambush. All of his associates in the attempt are dead. The group that penetrated our vault appears to have been a professional team hired from elsewhere in the realms, well-geared and prepared for their task.”

Loki testified that he’d uncovered information about the attack shortly before it occurred, but had also heard nothing about the theft. He’d left his usual aetheric tracer waiting for me at the entrance to our rooms, which is how he’d known where to find us, but he hadn’t been able to arrive quickly enough to stop the attack before it was in motion. He explained that Ragnar had contacted him and had asked for help and sanctuary, without mentioning the geas that had been put on Ragnar or my assistance in removing it. His aura roiled with golden curls as he spoke.

“Ragnar has asked me to keep him hidden for a while longer,” Loki concluded. “He’s still afraid of the influence of the person who tried to recruit him.”

“And who is that person, Loki?” Odin asked.

The Jotun glanced at us before answering. “A representative calling himself Vidar, who claimed to have been sent by Ragnar’s father… Tyr Borson.”

I wasn’t the only one who hissed at hearing that name. Odin leaned forward with a startled expression I had never expected to see on that wrinkled face. “That’s impossible,” he stated flatly. “Tyr remains in exile. I would know immediately if he had left his prison.”

“So far as I know, he is still confined,” Loki said, nodding at his adopted father. “But he has at least one ally who is very powerful, capable of great magic—such as shapeshifting—and travel between the Realms without use of the Bifrost. Passing through the wards of Tyr’s prison would presumably be within his abilities.”

“Tyr is warded… more fully than you know,” Odin said, his voice grim. “But it appears this ally is in contact with him somehow, and he brought Marauders into Asgard. It also fits what Thor learned about the Marauders becoming more aggressive and coordinated—and the supposed dragon that has been leading them.”

“The fact that the former king of Asgard still lives is unwelcome news enough,” Aizerue said. I glanced back at eir, surprised at eir loss of composure. Eir aura was roiling with anger that e wasn’t trying to conceal. “We are attacked in your very halls, and now learn that the war criminal responsible has been allowed to—”

“Please excuse my elder’s—momentary loss of composure,” I said, taking a step back to stand beside Aizerue and putting a hand on eir arm. “It has been a difficult day, and…” At a loss to continue, I shot Loki a pleading look.

“On the contrary, I ask that you accept our pardon for not informing you of Tyr Borson’s circumstances.” Even Odin looked surprised as Frigga stepped forward, her expression grave. “As you might imagine, there were political forces that prevented him from simply being executed at the time. We kept his incarceration and exile quiet, both to discourage his supporters from seeking him out and to keep the tenuous truce we’d negotiated with your people.”

“Given the circumstances, I should think that his execution might be in order now,” Aizerue said, shaking off my grip. “Since he has shown that he continues to be dangerous, even in exile.”

Odin’s expression darkened, but Frigga was the one who replied. “Tyr still has influential supporters among our people. It would be all too simple for them to frame his execution so soon after your arrival as a demand made by your party, and a concession given in fear of threats. This could rally powerful Asgardians against the treaty.” She didn’t need to point out that the entire concept of a peace agreement was already tenuous, and that opposition could cause huge difficulties in the negotiations—or even reverse the process entirely.

Aizerue let out a frustrated huff, and I hid a wince. “Then let him be publicly tried, here in Asgard,” e said through gritted teeth. “When Thor returns with proof of his actions, and with the evidence of his lackey’s attack. We will not be involved, except as witnesses. Let your own lawmakers present the case against him, and his supporters will be left with his indefensible actions, unable to prevent his justly deserved fate.”

“Agreed,” Odin said heavily. “I will investigate and strengthen the wards around Tyr’s confinement, but the subversion of a palace guard shows that bringing him here would not provide more security. He will remain isolated, in exile, until the time of his trial.” As he spoke, the avians that had been perched so unnaturally still on his shoulders rose into the air and circled us. Odin looked up at them, and they croaked once, as if in reply to an unspoken command, before flying out of the room. There were no windows or open doors, no passages I could see for them to fly out of; they simply flapped into a thread of shadow, and when I blinked, they were gone.

“We sincerely regret the attack that has taken place within our halls,” Frigga said, with a small bow to Aizerue. “And we hope that this unfortunate situation will not detract from efforts in crafting a treaty.”

By then, Aizerue had regained eir composure. “Of course the negotiations will continue,” e said. “As soon as we are allowed to return to them once more.” Odin nodded slightly, but Aizerue held up eir hand. “However, I will require a few adjustments to our accommodations for our own security.”

“Such as?” Odin said mildly.

“We have developed a ward that we believe will prevent any form of scrying—potentially even blocking Heimdall’s sight.”

Loki didn’t move, but his aura flared with surprise. Odin narrowed his eye. “How would this assist your security?” he asked.

“It would allow us to ensure our privacy when discussing such matters within our own quarters,” Aizerue replied, “and enable us to move freely about without worry of our movements being tracked by potentially hostile parties.”

Odin frowned, but before he could reply Frigga spoke again. “There has been so much mistrust between our people for so long,” she said, with sorrow in her voice that appeared to be genuinely reflected in her aura. If she was capable of manipulating her own aetheric appearance, she was as much of a master as I had ever seen. “And trust must be the foundation of any hope for lasting peace between our realms. I believe that you have earned trust from us, and I can only hope that we may someday hope to merit as much from you in return.”

Odin leaned back, looking disgruntled, but he nodded. “We will extend this trust to you,” he said. “Is there aught else we may provide?”

Aizerue shook eir head, but I stepped forward. “Highness, there is one simple thing that would help set the minds of our guards more at ease,” I said. “If we could be provided with the means to alert the palace guards immediately in case of trouble, and activate a locating beacon at the same time, it might help prevent incidents like this, or at least prevent them from going as far as this one did.”

I was confused when Odin turned to look at Loki. “I have been—advised in the past that a similar system of communication and tracking could be beneficial to our security, but as I have said before, I doubt that the palace guards could be convinced to rely upon such methods.”

I realized that my mouth was open, and closed it with a snap. “But—it doesn’t have to be aetheric,” I said, trying to understand the objection. “There are very simple technological devices that are commonly used on other realms—”

“Asgard has no need for the toys of lesser civilizations,” Odin said, his voice sharp. “Our ways have sufficed since the time of the Great Beginning. We must maintain what traditions we have left.”

I couldn’t understand what Odin was talking about well enough to make any kind of coherent response. “I—yes, your Highness,” I said, saluting and stepping back. From where he stood behind his parents, Loki caught my eye with a very slight shrug. I felt that I’d just gained some first-hand understanding of the concerns of the New Constellation.

By this time, Aizerue had returned to eir usual level of serene calm. After a few more polite assurances, we were excused to return to our suite. Neither of us spoke along the way.

Chapter Text

I shifted into my native form in the little entrance hall to the sauna before pushing the door open. A gust of steam imbued with the familiar, comforting smell of dragonkind puffed out around me. “You summoned me, Eldest?” I said into the warm darkness.

“I did.” The voice came rumbling from somewhere near the ceiling, where a pair of ice blue eyes glowed like luminous snowflakes suspended in midair. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

One of the legends about our people is that elder dragons will eat younger dragons if given the opportunity. This is said to be a form of population control, and to explain why the realms aren’t drowning in Niddroghn. The truth is that it’s very rare for a dragon to have more than one or two offspring over the course of zir life, and many choose not to have any offspring at all. Also, many dragons choose to live as other species in other realms. Some come back to Nidheim to mate and have children; some don’t. Our population has been essentially stable for hundreds of thousands of years.

But an elder dragon is still a very large, old, and experienced predator. In our natural forms Aizerue towered over me, coiled into the huge sauna room to its full capacity. I was perched on a loop of eir tail, since there was nowhere else for me to stand in the room that wasn’t already covered by Aizerue’s body. Eir jaws alone were almost the size of my entire native shape. I knew absolutely that I was safe in Aizerue’s presence, but the feral, flying lizard that my species had evolved from cowered in the back of my brain, gibbering terrified warnings about the monster that was about to devour me. I focused on calming meditations and waited patiently.

“I am within my rights and the charter of this mission to reprimand you for your interruption during the meeting today,” e said, eir voice rumbling and echoing in the darkness. “Your position as a guard expressly forbids you from taking any part in official diplomatic situations, and contradicting your superior in front of a potentially hostile high authority could undermine my own authority as the leader of this group.”

I winced, nodding, but e wasn’t finished. “However, in those specific circumstances, your actions were correct. I was not speaking as a diplomat and ambassador, but as an angry individual, and if I had continued I could well have jeopardized the negotiations. I will note in the recording of events that I commend your actions during the meeting.” E paused and lowered eir head to my level. “Your request for communication devices was quite a bit less clever,” e added in a wry tone. “I understand why you made the suggestion—it is a perfectly sensible idea, but Daucus can explain the cultural difficulties with the idea among the Aesir.”

I nodded again, feeling intensely relieved. “After listening to the New Constellation, and some of the things Loki has told me, I shouldn’t have been so surprised,” I said. “The Aesir relationship with advanced technology seems emotionally complicated. I’ll ask Daucus for some tutoring on the subject.”

“And, speaking of Loki…”

My ruff flattened as I winced again. I wanted to point out that I had been encouraged to develop personal ties with the Jotun in the beginning, but the information I’d gained from him didn’t seem to justify the amount of time I’d been spending in his company, even to myself. I sat back on my haunches, wings folded behind me, and tried not to fidget with my foreclaws. “Yes, Eldest. It’s obvious to—everyone, really, including me, that I’ve become… attached… to Loki,” I said. “We know he can—manipulate aetheric currents in various ways, and I’m… worried…”

“You’re worried that he might have tampered with your pattern,” Aizerue interrupted, “intentionally or otherwise, and that your attachment to him may be a result of such intervention.”

“Yes, exactly,” I said. I couldn’t help my shoulders and wings slumping at the thought.

“Please remove your aetheric shields, and let me see your pattern clearly.”

I nodded, and did as Aizerue requested. E leaned forward to inspect me aetherically for a few minutes, and I felt eir attention flow across me like a warm mist for a few minutes before e pulled eir head back.

“I must point out that his arrival during the ambush was very fortuitously timed,” e said. “I know that his tracer was following us—or rather you, specifically—as he has been doing for some time. Given that our information about the attack came from him, it’s quite possible that he had more information than he chose to pass on to us.”

As much as I wanted to deny it, I had to admit that everything Aizerue said was true. I wrapped my wings around my body with a sigh.

“Tell me, young one.” The elder dragon lowered eir head down to my level again, regarding me with half-lidded eyes. “Have you ever been in love before?”

The question surprised me, and I took a few minutes thinking over my own history. “I… don’t know,” I said. “I have some close friends that I’ve mated with…”

“Then the answer is no.” I blinked, and Aizerue’s whiskers twitched in a smile.

I realized I’d been grooming my tail tuft with my foreclaws, and flicked my tailtip behind me. “Do you think—I’m in love with Loki?”

“I can tell you that he has not interfered with your pattern to make you feel affection towards him,” Aizerue said, resting eir head on a coil next to me. “What you are feeling is entirely your own response to him. Your pattern shows clearly that you have strong attraction and affection for him, to the point of infatuation. But love…” Eir eyes blinked slowly in the darkness. “If you have to ask, then no. When, if, it happens, you will be certain. Affection and attraction can become love, given time.”

I knew Aizerue was right, but for some reason it felt almost painful to admit. I mulled over eir words for a few minutes as I rebuilt my aetheric shields, and e didn’t interrupt me, only watched.

“In your judgment, Eldest…” I swallowed, not wanting to ask, but knowing that I must. “Do you think I should—change my pattern, so I will stop feeling this—whatever it is?”

“Are you afraid that your affection for Loki may cause harm to our mission?” e asked. I could only nod miserably, unable to choke more words out past the lump in my throat. “Hmm. Given the situation, it is not an unfounded fear.” E leaned eir muzzle close to me again, close enough that I could feel eir breath puffing out from eir nostrils as e spoke. “Do you want to stop having the feelings that you are experiencing?”

“No,” I said, before I was aware that I was making the choice. I fluttered my wings in embarrassment and confusion. “It frightens me. I’m worried that I will make a mistake of judgment, or that he’s manipulating me, and I don’t really trust myself to know one way or another until it’s too late. But…” I shrugged, feeling helpless. “I don’t have anything to follow the objection. It confuses and scares me, but I don’t want to let it go, and I can’t even explain why.”

Aizerue nudged me gently with eir muzzle, a gesture equivalent to a hug, and I heaved a sigh. “Again, your fear is not unfounded, young one. If you had said you wanted the feelings to stop, I would have helped you remove them. But I will not take something from you that you wish to keep.”

“But… how do I… what do I do?” I sputtered.

“Trust your training, and your judgment,” e said, lifting eir head away with a distinctly amused cast to eir whiskers. “Enjoy the feeling while it is enjoyable. Don’t do anything you know you’ll regret later, and don’t regret whatever you end up doing. And don’t be afraid to come to any of us for advice, or if you just need someone to listen.”

“Uh… yes, Eldest.” I shook my head, still confused, and wondered if I would understand later. Aizerue’s body shifted in the darkness behind me, and my perch on eir tail lifted a bit before settling again.

“I feel that I owe you an explanation for my behavior at the meeting today.”

Surprised, I looked up, but Aizerue wasn’t looking at me. “It is not necessary on my behalf,” I said.

“Perhaps not, but it is on mine.” E looked down at me again, and for a moment I felt pinned down by that ancient stare. “My mate and I were living on Nastrond. The king of Asgard had done a very good job of keeping his agenda hidden… it had been quiet for a while, with few would-be heroes from other realms challenging us to combat. We had no idea what was coming.”

Aizerue looked up over my head, into a distant past, and eir voice dropped to a quiet rumble. “Whoever had Heimdall’s office as the watcher gave the exact coordinates of where we could be found. The Bifrost dropped an entire troop of warriors around us, equipped with massive nets—and Spellbreaker swords, at least four of them. We were overwhelmed in moments. One Spellbreaker sliced my wing off.” E twitched eir right wing reflexively. “But I saw another of those cursed blades open the throat of my mate… I had no thought of survival. I lost myself… there is a space of time I cannot recover, until I was being carried into the air by two elders, looking down at the soldiers beginning to butcher zir.”

Imagining the scene, I felt dizzy and sick. E lowered eir head to my level, offering comfort, and I leaned against eir muzzle, accepting it. I swallowed convulsively, and knew I would likely have nightmares about this. I had known that it happened, but I’d never heard about it from someone who had experienced the horror.

“We weren’t the only ones targeted. Other Aesir squads were attacking, all across the realm, their entire army focused on the single aim of killing and butchering dragons, and harvesting our bodies.” Eir claws scraped across the stone floor of the sauna. “When we understood the scale of what Tyr was doing, we evacuated as many Niddroghn as we could from Nastrond, but many of our people were lost by then. The survivors scattered to the nine realms—we couldn’t risk the slaughter following us to our true home. But we were being watched even so, and tracked. More were hunted down in their shapeshifted forms—on Midgard, Vanaheim. They even followed some of us to Hel.”

I rubbed my muzzle across Aizerue’s nose, feeling that e needed the comfort as well. Eir eyes closed and e sighed deeply. “It was sheer good fortune that none of us were tracked home. When we realized how closely we were being watched, we stopped all travel to and from our homeworld, and those of us who hadn’t made it back before then became exiles. The only realm that was blocked from Asgard’s sight was Jotunheim, where the frost giants had built great wards of their own. Eventually we gathered there, the lost survivors, and made our alliances and plans.”

Two burning slashes in the dark opened as e peered at me. “We all fought. I earned my mate’s vengeance many times over—enough to satisfy my own rage, and then more still, enough to sicken me. We chased Tyr’s armies back to Asgard, where Nidhoggr sprang the trap, and Tyr was defeated.”

Aizerue raised eir head again and smiled. “As the Aesir under Odin’s rule proved themselves dedicated to preserving peace, and abided by their agreement with us, I was one of the first voices speaking of the need for a lasting, specific truce. So when a diplomatic embassy was finally approved, I was chosen to lead it. Few know of my history in the war—Daucus is the only other one of our group who knows, and none of the Aesir. I would prefer to keep it that way.”

E gently scooped me off eir tail and set me on the stone floor next to the entrance. “I intend to make a new, kinder history, not repeat the past,” e said. “And so, I thank you for your intervention today.” A drift of warm aether curled down my neck and back, giving me the sensation of safety and affection. I smiled over my shoulder at my elder before returning to the brightly lit, cooler rooms of our suite.

Chapter Text

Two blessedly uneventful days passed, of conferences and subdued social engagements. The third day was agreed upon by the negotiation team to be a rest day. As we approached the entrance to our rooms, I was as unsurprised as everyone else when Loki’s aetheric tracer invited me to accompany him the next morning. Malalik sternly instructed me not to get injured again and Aizerue gave me a rather knowing smirk. I sent a message back with my acceptance of the invitation, then spent the evening alternately continuing my tutoring by Laharu to retain the information I’d been given about pattern weaving, and more or less gently teased by the other guards.

The others had decided to spend the day taking a leisurely tour of the city of Asgard with a pair of Aesir diplomats as their guides. After breakfast, we opened the doors to find Loki, the two diplomats, and a group of palace guards, one assigned to accompany each of us Niddroghn. I glanced at the Jotun, but he seemed unconcerned about the escort. It appeared that our trip today was not to be kept secret.

The Aesir diplomats came into the suite for some preliminary conversation and diplomacy, while Loki led me to a nearby dock, where a skybarge was waiting with another guard as the pilot. After giving brief directions, he relaxed into a padded seat on one side, and gestured for me to sit next to him. The guards remained standing, scanning the barge and surroundings with slow, practiced gazes.

“Nice outfit you’ve chosen,” he said with a smile and a small seated bow as I sat down.

I raised an eyebrow at him. I knew he could see through the illusion of casual clothes I’d woven to cover my new suit of armor. “Without knowing what you had in mind for the day, I thought I’d go with something simple and potentially adaptable,” I replied, looking over the long black leather coat he was wearing. “I hope it’s suitable.”

“It will be fine,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“So… where are we going?” I asked. A moment later, the skybarge docked again and came to a stop.

“We’re already there.”

The dock was in front of a tall, high-arched building that stood in the shadow of the palace itself. Though space seemed to be at a premium in the city of Asgard, there was the impression of open fields around and behind it, bordered with huge, ancient trees and carefully tended high bushes. As I stepped out of the skybarge my nostrils flared, catching the nearby scents. “I’m going to meet your friend, Svadilfari,” I guessed.

The guard who had accompanied us from the palace followed as we approached the large entranceway. “Indeed,” Loki said, smiling at me. “I thought it would make a nice change of pace for both of us, and it’s been a while since I’ve visited him myself. And I have to admit, I’m looking forward to seeing if you can ride a horse after all—when you’re sober, that is.”

The hall we entered was tall, airy, and immaculately clean. I traced several complex webs of aetheric patterns carefully designed and maintained to keep it that way, and couldn’t suppress a quiet snort that the Aesir who refused to use simple communication devices would instead put so much energy into making their stables smell nice. Loki glanced at me and nodded. “I thought you’d catch that,” he said quietly.

Aesir bustled around the hall. Most were dressed in what I guessed was the livery uniform of the stable, but many seemed to be nobles as well, and a few had servants of their own. All stepped aside and bowed to Loki as we passed, with a sense of reverent respect that I hadn’t seen much of in the palace itself. He accepted the gestures with polite nods, and occasionally a few words of greeting to those he recognized, who were stablehands more often than not. His aura rippled with reddish-gold waves, which intensified as he approached the half-open door of a stable decorated with the golden crest of the royal family.

“Svadi,” he said quietly, looking into the stable. There was the sound of heavy hoofsteps, and then the black head of a large horse emerged, snuffling at the Jotun. Loki leaned his head against the horse’s nose, rubbing the sides of its muzzle, with an expression of pure, unfeigned delight. His aura blazed in a flare of gold and crimson so bright that I had to dim my aetheric vision.

“Sigynazor, this is Svadilfari,” he said, turning to me and grinning. “Svadi has been my friend for many years, and has proven a trustworthy companion during some dangerous adventures.” I pressed my fist to my chest and bowed. “Svadilfari, this is Sigynazor, who is a dragon but who promises not to eat you.” I shot him a mock-offended look, and he winked at me. “Sigyn has never ridden, so I’m going to get zir a sedate mount to learn. No tricks from you today, Svadi.”

I had no idea if the horse was agreeing or not as he nudged Loki’s head and made a whuffling sound. Suddenly he tossed his head out of the Jotun’s grip and turned to look at the entrance, his ears perking. There was the sound of shuffling and scattered whinnies from the other stables. A few moments later we could all hear what had disturbed the horses—a high, whistling sound that grew increasingly louder, then ended with a heavy thump, and a shout that echoed through the building. “Loki!”

My guide winced, then looked up at me. “It seems that my brother has returned,” he said expressionlessly, “and wishes to speak with me. If you will excuse me.” He patted the horse’s head again before stalking off down the hallway. The guard glanced between Loki and myself, clearly uncertain. “Come on,” I said, following Loki out of the stables.

Thor was standing with his cape billowing dramatically in the middle of the wide thoroughfare outside. Sif stood next to him, her expression set and angry. The air around him crackled with ozone. Stablehands were leading the few horses that had been out front back into the building at a trot. Loki seemed perfectly calm as he approached his brother. I paused in the entranceway, glancing around at the dozens of Aesir passerby who had stopped to watch the scene, then turned to the guard beside me. “If you have any way of calling for reinforcements, I think they’ll be needed,” I murmured. He nodded, activating a device on his wrist and speaking into it urgently. I rolled my eyes at the evidence of supposedly forbidden technology, then looked back at the confrontation outside.

“Loki!” Thor bellowed again.

“There’s no need to shout, brother, I’m right here,” Loki replied. He stopped a few yards away from Thor and folded his arms. “Now, what is all this fuss about?”

“You know damn well, you traitorous viper.” Thor leveled his hammer at Loki. “While I’m off on a fool’s errand to prove the supposed innocence of your reptile friends, you used the opportunity to try to remove me from your path to the throne!”

“Just for the sake of argument, how did I do that, exactly?”

“You informed the dragons of where I was,” Thor snarled, “and they sent one of their kind to attack me! Fandarel was almost killed. The rest of us barely escaped with our lives!”

“I would have thought you were a match for any dragon all by yourself, much less accompanied by your warriors,” Loki said.

“We would have been, if the dragon were not a powerful sorcerer and surrounded by Marauders with siege weapons,” Sif replied. “They had weapons to counter each of our own—they knew our fighting tactics suspiciously well.”

“And when my companions were trapped, the dragon came after me.” Thor looked like he wanted to spit. “It created a wall of force around Mjolnir, preventing me from using much of its power. A coward’s trick, but effective enough.”

“Well, your theory that I was responsible for this is flattering, but flawed.” I could hear the smirk in Loki’s voice. “I had no idea where you were, and no way of finding out. I don’t even know what realm this happened on.”

“Heimdall would have known, and it would be easy enough for you to find out from him!”

Loki looked at Sif. “Did you ask Heimdall if I had done any such thing?”

“Well… no,” she admitted.

“You’d have fooled him as well, with your tricks and illusions,” Thor said.

“I think you overestimate what I can do with my tricks and illusions,” Loki said carefully. “Thor, stop and think about this a moment.”

“I have no need to stop and think, I saw it myself!” Now Thor glared and pointed his hammer at me. “Enough of your lies! I see that you have one of your dragon friends with you, as always. I challenge it to combat, to prove the truth of my accusations!”

“Thor, you can’t—” Sif put a hand on his arm, but he shook her off.

“I invoke the ancient right of the Aesir, to trial by combat!” Swirling, angry clouds were quickly forming overhead, and thunder punctuated his demand. “This will be decided here and now!”

“The dragon can’t fight you,” Loki said, moving to stand between us. “It would create a diplomatic incident. You remember that, don’t you? Diplomacy?” His voice betrayed his frustration with the situation.

“Then I will fight you instead.” Thor grinned, a strange, unhinged expression. “If you want the throne so badly as to send assassins to kill me for it, you can try and take it from me now!”

A troop of guards had arrived and surrounded the scene of the confrontation, trying to push the onlookers away. Loki took a few steps back, holding his hands up, while Sif tugged on Thor’s arm again, talking to him urgently. I saw Loki weave a quick aetheric dart and flick it in my direction. In my ear, his voice said quietly, “No matter what happens, stay out of this. You must not fight him.” I growled under my breath as Thor shoved Sif aside, sending her staggering several paces away.

“I will not fight you, brother!” Loki shouted, backing away further, his hands still up. “Thor, this is madness!”

“Enough of your lies!” Thor launched himself at Loki, hammer first. Loki leaped out of the way as the Aesir crashed into a wall, sending rubble flying. There were shouts and a few screams from the crowd of watchers, and they finally began responding to the guards’ attempts to clear the area.

“Thor, stop!” Sif launched herself through the air on her spear and landed on Thor’s back, in a futile effort to hold him down.

“Has he clouded your mind, too?” Thor sounded almost regretful as he threw her off, then turned and focused on Loki again. “Must you take all my friends?” A bolt of lightning speared out from his hammer and split one of the ancient oak trees lining the street when Loki dodged aside, sending jagged chunks of wood spinning towards the onlookers. I grabbed a bundle of aetheric threads and threw a hasty ward between the crowd and the debris. It wouldn’t have stood up against a blast from Thor’s hammer, or really any actual assault, but it was enough to deflect the splinters.

“We have to get him away from the crowd!” I shouted, as Loki tumbled aside from another blast of crumbled masonry.

“I’m open to suggestions!” Sif was now standing between him and Thor, arms spread, still trying to convince the Aesir to stop attacking.

Sighing as I thought about the lecture Malalik would give me, I disintegrated my armor, using energy from it and from the surrounding aether to shift into a larger version of my natural form. “Shield me!” I called as I leapt towards them. Sure enough, the sudden appearance of a large dragon in the combat had immediately caught Thor’s attention. Lightning surged and flared around me, pushed aside rather than stopped completely by Loki’s shield. I paused long enough to grab him in one claw and Sif in the other, then channeled some of the energy from Thor’s next attack into getting the three of us airborne.

“To the palace!” Loki said. I could feel him working on the shield, trying to repair and reinforce it against Thor’s constant assaults.

I was fervently glad that the stables were so close by. Still, it took more energy than I had readily available to fly there in my enlarged form while carrying two passengers. My attention was concentrated on channeling the aetheric threads around us, bending them to my use, and on getting us to the open balcony I had fixed as my goal, so I was taken completely by surprise when Sif shouted “He’s above us!” A tremendous blow hit Loki’s shield, and I nearly lost my grasp on the other two as I flapped desperately to keep aloft.

Flying over me, Thor focused his attacks down in trying to force me to land, while Loki struggled to shield us from the assault. With one last burst of effort I flung myself into the palace through the wide archway, and the three of us went tumbling across the hall.

Dizzy and disoriented, I tried to stand, but was only able to get my forelegs under me. Loki wasn’t in much better shape, kneeling on the floor as he tried to rebuild his ward. Thor landed with practiced grace in front of us. “I’ll crush two serpents with one blow,” he snarled, raising his hammer. There was a blur of motion as he was knocked aside and crashed to the floor with Sif crouching on his back again, holding her spear across the back of his neck. His hammer went sliding across the floor until it was stopped abruptly under Odin’s boot. The king held Gungnir upright beside him, and as the hammer entered the spear’s sphere of influence I saw it locked down somehow, unable to return to Thor’s urgently gesturing hand.

I slumped to the floor as a clatter of footsteps echoed through the room, releasing the energy I’d been using and shrinking back to the correct size of my birth form. Thor’s angry shouts were drowned out by the palace guards as they surrounded and separated us.

Chapter Text

The next few hours passed in a confusing blur. Sif, Loki, and I were each questioned by Odin separately about what had happened at the stables. Aizerue was present for my interview, partially to help me stabilize after having overextended myself yet again during the combat, and also to determine whether I had any part in exacerbating the situation or if I had done everything I could to help. I felt vaguely guilty, unsure if the confrontation had been partially my own fault somehow, but by the time we were done I was reassured that I had done the best I could to contain and control the situation. I caught a glimpse of Sif leaving her own interview, with her head held high and a brightness to her eyes that made me wonder how much she’d been found at fault for.

I was allowed to return to our suite to rest for a little while. I’d expected questions and maybe some teasing or criticism, but the mood was solemn and quiet. Scathsa and Laharu invited me into the sauna, and I accepted, grateful for the chance to relax in my native form. As I dozed, Laharu checked my aetheric pattern and helped ease some of the stress I’d put on my system, and by the time I was woken I felt completely recovered.

Our entire party was called to the smaller throne room in the late afternoon. I stood in the front of our group next to Aizerue, once again wearing an illusion of armor as my second replacement set was still being fabricated. On the other side of the aisle, Loki, Sif, Frigga, and Thor’s other warrior friends were gathered. Although the Warriors Three were clustered as far from Loki as they could get, I noticed that Sif was standing by his side. There were a few other Aesir present who seemed to be representatives of various sorts, but aside from this small audience, the only other people in the huge hall were what seemed like every guard in the palace, and probably a few more squads from other areas of the city.

Thor himself stood alone in the center of the aisle, stripped of his cape and ceremonial armor and with his hands cuffed together before him, his aura a churning mix of conflicting emotions. As one of the representatives recited a list of public grievances against him he remained impassive, though his expression bordered on sullen.

I had expected there to be more ceremony, but after the charges were read Odin thumped his spear on the dais. He stood up as the ringing echoes died, looking more weary than I could have imagined.

“Thor Odinson,” he said, staring down at his heir. “You are found guilty of endangering the lives of innocents, the peace of Asgard, and the future of all Aesir. You chose to make a reckless, violent attack against your own brother, based on incomplete evidence and your own prejudices. You were given more than one opportunity to reconsider and take a more tempered path, and you rejected that wisdom at every turn.

“Through your actions today, you have publicly demonstrated your unworthiness as heir to the throne of Asgard. For your crimes, I, Odin Allfather, will take from you your titles, your powers, and your status as citizen of Asgard, and exile you to another realm. If you learn wisdom in weakness, humbleness in isolation, you may someday be allowed to return—or you may live out the shortened life of a mortal in foolish arrogance.”

During his speech a ripple of shock passed through the crowd, and even spread among the waiting guards. The stoic facade of Thor’s expression crumbled into dismay. A second thump of Gungnir on the floor silenced the murmurs. “Bring him to the Bifrost gate,” Odin said, and a group of guards stepped forward, surrounding the ashen-faced Thor.

We were all loaded into several skybarges and towed out to the roaring edge of Asgard, where the ocean waters fell endlessly into the starry void, but only five people entered the round-roofed, gilded chamber—Heimdall, Aizerue, Loki, Thor, and Odin, carrying the hammer Mjolnir in one hand and the spear Gungnir in the other. We watched in silence as the Bifrost was activated and a beam of light speared out somewhere into the void for a few minutes before fading away. Only four people emerged from the building.

Back at the palace, the crowd of observers disembarked onto the throne room platform, talking quietly. Odin’s entourage immediately marched away, withdrawing from the situation without any further answers or discussion. Loki stood alone on the edge of the group, scanning the room. His gaze flicked to me and lingered for a moment, then he turned to walk away. I glanced at Aizerue, who nodded once, and followed the Jotun down a hallway. I felt the brush of an aetheric query as he affirmed my identity before he slowed down, allowing me to match pace with him.

We walked silently through the corridors of the palace for some time, through sections that were unfamiliar to me. As we walked he wove a shroud of invisibility over us, seeming to do it almost reflexively, as if he was acting in his sleep. He led me up several long stairways, past alcoves that housed some of the palace’s defense systems, either trusting me not to take advantage of the tactical information or completely unconcerned with the possibility.

Somewhere near the top of the palace, we reached a small observation balcony. It felt disused and almost abandoned, despite being as clean and well-maintained as the rest of the palace. Loki walked to one of the benches and sat down, staring out at the landscape shown through the wide windows. I hesitated for a minute before following and seating myself beside him. We watched the sunlight fade from the spires of Asgard, the giant torches along the promenade of statues flaring to life as a constellation of lights were kindled across the city. With a quiet command, the only word he’d spoken since returning from the Bifrost, Loki shut off the lights in the viewing room. Shadows gathered and deepened around us.

“I didn’t want this.” His voice was barely more than a whisper in the stillness of the room. “They think that I engineered this somehow, or influenced Odin’s decision, to get Thor out of the way of the throne. But I don’t…” I tried to think of something to say, but before I could come up with anything he continued.

“All our lives, father kept telling us that we were both born to be kings, but we always knew that only one of us could rule—and everybody knew it would be Thor. All our lives, I watched as Thor refused to pay attention to the lessons of governance that we were taught, while I excelled. No matter how well I did, no matter what I did… by the simple accident of his birth, he would be a king someday. And all our lives, I heard our father’s voice—we were both born to be kings, but if only one of us could be king and it was already decided that it would be Thor… what did that leave for me?”

Loki stood up and paced restlessly. I couldn’t see him as more than a silhouette, but his aura blazed with intense, confused emotions.

“I love Thor. He is my brother, he is—a good person, in his way. He has a good heart. But that’s not enough to be a good king. He cares about Asgard, he wants to do the right thing, but he won’t stop and think, he won’t listen. I believe today was the first time father had no choice but to face the fact that his heir is truly unfit to rule.”

He paused, staring out over the city with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And now, I have to face the fact that… I don’t want it.” Turning back to face me, I could barely see his smile in the shadows, full of self-mockery. “Endless responsibility, difficult decisions—it’s not all ceremonies and luxury. That’s what Thor never understood, could never see in the warm glow of his carefully nurtured fantasies. It means doing painful things for the good of the realm… that’s why father made me come and watch as he cast my brother out.”

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. “It doesn’t matter what I want any more,” he said tonelessly. “Until—unless—father can figure out some way to bring Thor back and make him acceptable to the people he offended today. I was born to be a king, but I never really believed that I would someday have to be one.”

The churning patterns in his aura had been stabilizing as he spoke, and were now almost as still as usual. I couldn’t help thinking that I should find some way to take advantage of the situation, to exploit the vulnerability he was showing me for my people’s interests, but the idea made me feel vaguely nauseous.

As I debated how to respond, Loki smiled at me, as if seeing me for the first time since Thor’s brief trial. “I apologize,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “It’s rather outside the scope of my diplomatic duties to drag you away and spend an hour ranting and whining at you.”

I snorted and shook my head. “I followed you willingly. It seemed that you needed someone to listen for a while, but I don’t consider that to be part of my own—diplomatic duties.”

“Then why did you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

I struggled with myself for a moment, then shrugged. “I thought you needed… a friend.”

Surprise flashed across his face for a moment, along with a bright yellow burst in his aura. His expression cleared almost immediately, but the yellow streaks took several more minutes to fade. “I… thank you,” he said. He hesitated, then sat down again next to me, and we watched the lights of Asgard in companionable silence, green tendrils of his aura wrapping slowly around me like drifting vines.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed uneventfully, for which we were all extremely thankful. Aizerue was resolved that the negotiations continue successfully, and returned to work with determined patience. Malalik decided not to issue me a third set of armor, and instead had Scathsa graft a strong warding spell onto me, along with bolstering the pattern I’d already worn to make maintaining the illusion of armor or clothing easier for me to maintain over long stretches of time.

The palace inhabitants seemed to be in a state of mourning. Conversations were subdued, there was little laughter in the dining halls, and even the guards marched with less flash and clatter than before. We were wary of a backlash of sentiment among the Aesir. Thor was a popular figure, and the fact that we had been involved in his banishment in any way could be enough to upset people, but Sif and Frigga both made several public and private statements of support for us, which did much to defuse resentment.

Odin himself virtually vanished after the banishment. He made a few very brief appearances, but spent the majority of his time in his private quarters, with Frigga taking up most of his duties. Daucus guessed that he was preparing for eldersleep, the period of near-comatose rest that older Aesir needed on a regular basis to restore their vigor. Loki still attended the conferences, but he seemed quieter and more distracted than usual, presumably due to his own increased workload as the now official heir to the throne.

Then one morning, Loki arrived late for the negotiations and said that he needed to speak with our delegation urgently, and privately. The Aesir delegates left the room, and we guards were called in. As soon as the doors were closed, he said without preamble, “Tyr may be missing.”

Aesir would have exploded into conversation. We fell still and silent, watching each others’ auras and instinctively scanning the area for aetheric threats. It was several seconds before Aizerue could compose emself enough to speak. “Please explain,” e said, with just the slightest rumbling growl to eir voice.

“When the ravens were sent to check and reinforce the wards, they discovered an irregularity in the spells set up around the site. They’re connected directly to Odin, and when he inspected it he didn’t think the wards had been broken.” Loki clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke, matching Aizerue’s calm. “But he sent a squad of guards to investigate, just to make sure. They returned with several badly wounded members, and reported that as far as they could tell, there was nobody in the area. However, several aetheric traps have been set, and none of them had the skill to defuse them.”

“And I suppose Odin wants to send my people into danger, rather than risking more Aesir guards,” Aizerue snarled. Daucus stepped forward, but Loki was already shaking his head.

“The wards set on the premises are keyed only to respond to the royal family of Asgard,” he said. “I would appreciate any assistance you could lend, but I will be present, as both Odin and Frigga are required to remain here.”

All of us were watching Loki’s aura closely, but there was no trace of golden curls. Aizerue closed eir eyes, breathing deeply, then nodded to Daucus before turning away.

Daucus bowed to Loki. “We will send Scathsa with you, who is an expert on wards and security systems,” hie said. “And Sigyn, since you have been working with zir for some time.”

Scathsa stepped forward, and Loki nodded at us. “Thank you. Unless either of you have any equipment you want to bring, we should leave immediately.” We turned to the door, but Aizerue intercepted us, staring pointedly at Loki.

“Do not presume too far upon our natural sympathy for your kind,” e said quietly. “You have given us reason to believe you are an ally—but which way will you turn, when the choice must be made between your family and your nature?”

Before the Jotun could answer, Aizerue swept out of the room with Daucus and the other two guards in tow. Loki stared after them for a moment, then turned to me. “What was that about?”

I sighed and shook my head. “Things have been happening so quickly—I think it’s getting to eir more than e wants to admit. I apologize if e caused any offense.”

Loki studied my face, then nodded. “No offense was taken,” he said, then shrugged. “A bit of confusion, but that can wait. Let us be off.”

The three of us hustled to the nearest open balcony. Before Loki could bring out his whistle, Scathsa and I had changed into our native forms. “If we’re in a hurry, we’d rather not wait,” I said, settling on the floor as Scathsa perched on the balcony with eir wings spread. “The extra weight will be easy for me to handle when we’re not under attack.”

I turned back to look at Loki, who was standing by my side, looking uncertain. I puffed out a breath and smirked at him. “It can’t be that different from riding a horse,” I teased.

He laughed, relaxing a little, then climbed awkwardly onto my back. I winced as he gripped my ruff, but he quickly settled into a position that was as minimally uncomfortable as it was likely to get. “I’m ready,” he told me.

Scathsa launched off the balcony as I walked up to the edge. I didn’t pause to give Loki time to get nervous before I jumped.

For a moment I worried that I’d spoken too soon when I’d said I could handle the extra burden, feeling the strain in my wings as I struggled to lift both our bodies. A weaving of weghtlessness coiled around me, and in a few seconds I was rising, grateful for Scathsa’s assistance.

We circled to the other side of the palace, then made straight for the Bifrost gate with a burst of aetherically-enhanced speed. Loki’s grip on my neck was tight, but I could hear him laughing in the wind that whipped past us as we raced low across the water.

A lone figure stood on the bridge waiting for us as we backwinged to land on the crystalline walkway. He watched, impassive and immobile, as Loki slid off my back and Scathsa and I returned to our Aesir guard forms and bowed respectfully.

“They have agreed to accompany me to Svartalfheim,” Loki said, gesturing to us. “Have you seen anything we should be aware of?”

“There has been no movement that I could detect at the site of Tyr’s exile,” Heimdall replied. I startled slightly at the resonance of his voice, which seemed much better suited for a dragon twice his size than for any Aesir, and once again wondered at the extent of his powers as he led us into the gatehouse. “Or anywhere else on the world.”

“Could you put us down a ways away from the confinement site?” Scathsa asked. “It would be helpful to get a sense of the larger patterns, and see if there’s any traces leading away from the area.”

“Very well.” Heimdall stepped onto the platform and inserted his sword into its podium as we gathered in front of the gate. Power flickered across the room, the mechanism gathering force for its tremendous discharge.

Loki glanced at me with a smirk. “And for your information, that was nothing like riding a horse,” he said, just before the portal opened and we were pulled through.

Chapter Text

We landed atop a small hill with an explosion of swirling sickly greenish dust, which was quickly blown away in the stinging, ceaseless wind. A line of black that cut halfway across the horizon marked our destination, across a wide, bleak plain of blasted stone.

Scathsa and I immediately changed into our natural forms, and e joined Loki in checking the aether as I scanned the ground and sky for material threats. I had hoped to fly, but the wind was violent and unpredictable enough that I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to get off the ground. Loki looked up and we both watched Scathsa mutter and gesture for a few more minutes before e nodded. “I’ve got a web around us that should suffice until we get to the cliffs,” e said, as the wind around us diminished and the air freshened.

There was a pause as we all stared at the cracked plain that stretched out before us. “Well, we asked for a hike,” Scathsa said, eir voice thin and hollow against the endless winds.

“You did,” I replied as we set off.

“If you’d like to set off all the traps and alarms, feel free to run on ahead,” Scathsa said over eir shoulder. “Or you could change into a horse and let your playmate ride,” e added in our language, using a term implying more than friendship.

“Thank you, but I’d prefer to walk on my own feet,” Loki said in Aesir.

Scathsa stopped, blinking at Loki in surprise. As he walked between us, the Jotun let me catch a glimpse of a translation charm and winked at me. I snorted, swatting Scathsa with my tail, and we trudged off after him.

There was little conversation as we walked. Svartalfheim had been scoured of life millennia ago during the bitter war between the Dark Elves and the Aesir. What remained was a deserted tomb of a world. Despite its barren emptiness, the land and air were full of aetheric screams, the only traces left of the people who had once lived there.

Thinking of that war, I asked Loki, “Weren’t you worried that Tyr might make something from the remains of the Dark Elf ships?”

“The last battle, when the Dark Elves dropped their ships on us, happened on another continent and on the other side of the world,” he replied. “This continent was stripped of resources and pounded to dust centuries before that time. Their ideology was not kind to the environment.”

“Didn’t they live underground anyway?” Scathsa said, walking on Loki’s other side.

“Almost entirely,” Loki said. “But I’m told that by the time of our last conflict with them, their underground cities were mostly empty ruins. As far as we could piece together afterwards, they had a massive, planet-wide civil war long before they declared war on the rest of the universe. Winning that civil war wasn’t enough for them, though. The faction in charge had to be sure that the heresy of the other side was never heard from again, whatever it had been…” His voice trailed off, and we walked on in silence.

Loki held a device in his hand which he informed us was a signal to the wards that he was a member of the royal family, reinforcing the commands that had been sent from Asgard by his father. We found the spot where the company of guards had been set down a few days ago and paused there, surveying the area.

“They should have been safe from our wards at this distance,” Loki said, frowning at the device. “And they had a safeguard of their own that should have allowed them to get closer. But it seems that our own wards were turned against them.”

“Yes… look here,” Scathsa said, drawing out a thread of the aether and highlighting it so Loki could see it easily. “This is new, but it’s woven into the ward patterns. I’d wager it’s why you couldn’t tell anything was wrong without close inspection, too. Whoever did this weaving did a very good job of not just circumventing, but actually adapting the wards for their own use. It’s impressive work.”

“Try not to get too lost in admiration, I said, with a bite in my voice drawn from tension. “You’re here to destroy their work, not critique it.”

“The better it’s made, the more fun it is to figure out how to unweave it,” Scathsa said absently as e tugged carefully at the pattern. “Just because it’s my job doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it… there we go,” e added, pulling a thread free. We all tensed as we felt the ward flex back into its original shape, then relaxed when the device in Loki’s hand chimed, flashing a soothing green.

“I’ll take the wards down as we go,” Loki said. He made an adjustment to the device and the green light blinked yellow once, then faded away. “They’re useless now anyway, and if the traps are attached to them, it’s possible that removing them will defuse the traps.” He looked up at Scathsa, who nodded in reply, and we walked on.

Tyr’s prison had been carved into the rocks where the cliff wall ended abruptly in a sharp point. Scathsa and Loki each called for increasingly frequent stops as we approached the gate that marked the entrance to the dwelling, to disarm the traps and wards that wound through the aether. The entrance was a huge cavern mouth covered with a gate that, like most Aesir architecture, gleamed a nacreous greenish-gold in the faint sunlight. We halted in front of the portal as Loki consulted his device. There was another quiet chime, and the gates swung out, opening into darkness. All three of us were tense and alert as we entered the cave.

This was no rough hovel. The floor was flat and smooth, with stalls that may have been meant for horses or vehicles, but which stood empty and disused. Large sconces were carved from the walls, and would have given plenty of light to the cave if they had been lit. Just a few yards in, the gloom was nearly impenetrable, and we slowed to a halt.

“Don’t dragons live in caves?” Loki said, peering into the shadows.

“Our homes are usually better-lit,” Scathsa replied. “But we can adjust our vision to see better in the darkness. Can’t you?”

“I use magic to make a light. How would I change my vision?” Loki asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

Scathsa and I glanced at each other, and I shrugged my wings at em. “We can’t risk a magical light,” I said. “That would be an obvious trigger for a trap. Perhaps you could ride—”

Suddenly the cavern was flooded with light that seemed to pour from the empty sconces. We winced, membranes flicking out to cover our eyes as we adjusted to the fairly dim illumination. As we did, I looked back and realized the gates had closed behind us. The others saw a second after I did. We glanced at each other uncertainly. “I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad one,” Loki said, looking at his device.

“First rule of dealing with traps: Assume everything is dangerous until proven otherwise,” Scathsa said, and shifted into eir Aesir form. I followed suit, both of us covering ourselves in illusions of armor more out of habit than necessity.

“That’s not very reassuring,” Loki said as we walked across the cavern to a set of stairs leading up into darkness.

Scathsa shook eir head. “It’s not meant to be.”

“Fair enough.”

Despite their constant scanning, Loki and Scathsa found no traps as we climbed the coiling staircase to the living quarters. The sconces flickered to life as we approached, then darkened behind us. There were no extra rooms for guards or visitors. The suite of rooms at the top of the stairs was smaller than the one assigned to us at the palace in Asgard, but it seemed comfortable enough. Wide balconies and windows carved into the rock of the cliff face let in weak sunlight, with force screens to keep out the howling wind and stinging sand. The modest kitchen was well-stocked with grown and harvested foods, along with a basic fabricator that would turn dirt into nourishing bricks for thousands of years if needed. There was even a large den, furnished with tapestries, rugs, comfortable chairs and many books, though no communication devices.

Everywhere, everything, was saturated with centuries of anger. Tyr had obviously never reconciled himself to his fate. Many of the furnishings showed signs of damage that could only have come from one source, along with clumsy attempts at repair.

We split up and began searching for clues—aetheric traces, discarded debris, a journal or diary—anything that would give us some indication of what had happened. Scathsa had found no more traps, but e warned us to check everything carefully before touching it, and to stay alert. After a couple of hours of fruitless searching, though, we were all tired and frustrated.

I was standing in the bedroom, staring out over the balcony and contemplating calling off the search, when a curtain seemed to slam down across the window and the sconces went dark, plunging me instantly into complete darkness.

Chapter Text

All of us had training or experience enough to stay quiet, but there was a loud clattering and a quiet curse from the library that made me wince. I tried to adjust my vision, but there was no light at all in the room, and even my aetheric vision was clouded. I walked towards the doorway mostly from memory, staying low with my arms stretched in front of me to avoid hitting furniture or walls. Just as I touched the door frame the lights flared on again, brighter than before, leaving me still effectively blinded.

There was another crash from the direction of the library, this time with a shout of alarm. I tried pulling aetheric threads into a pattern to adjust my vision, but the aether was woven tight around me, a strange, stifling pattern that prevented me from drawing even enough energy to shift my shape. I snapped the illusion of armor, quickly capturing and storing the energy that had been used to maintain it into a hasty battery spell, and groped my way down the hall.

A figure lurched down the hallway towards me. I hissed, raising my hand to strike with sharpened claws, but paused before striking. “It’s me,” Loki’s voice said in a breathless whisper. “Sigyn?”

“Yes,” I murmured back, followed by a louder yell from the library. “Come on.”

My eyes had mostly adjusted to the light as we entered the room, enough to see Scathsa coiled in the far corner of the library, and the amorphous glowing shape between us. Scathsa was tugging on the aether, trying to gather energy for something, but the glowing thing seemed to have eir wrapped in a net of strands that pulled tighter as I watched.

As I hesitated there was a flash of movement beside me, and a pair of metal darts flew across the room. Both flashed harmlessly through the strange mass, bouncing off the wall on the other side with a loud clatter. The shape had no visible features, but I could feel its attention shift in our direction moments before a rope of bright white energy flared out, striking Loki solidly in his chest. He hit the far wall of the hallway with a bone-jarring impact.

My training had included fighting when blocked from access to the aether, but it had been a relatively brief overview, since it hadn’t been considered to be a potential problem in Asgard. All I could immediately remember was to conserve aetheric energy as much as possible, and look for a physical anchor or control point that might be disabled. The stored energy from the illusion pattern I’d broken was barely enough to allow me to shift into my native form, but if I did it here I’d be badly cramped in the Aesir-sized rooms and corridors. Shifting into any other form would require more energy than I had saved. I was keenly aware of the limitations of the body I was stuck in—virtually unarmed, and with almost no natural armor.

Another spear of light jabbed in the direction where Loki had fallen. I leapt to intercept it, without any clear idea of what I could actually do about it. The force of the blow knocked me back and sideways, sending me tumbling down the hallway. I looked up, shaking my head, to see Loki scrambling away from me just as Scathsa leaped out of the study, avoiding another strike by a hair’s breadth. E had shifted into a wingless quadrupedal form, something like a large, slender cat covered in scales, which I recognized as one of the shapes eir had grafted. Scathsa had evidently saved up enough energy from somewhere to make the extra transformation, and I felt a brief stab of admiration and envy, though it didn’t last long as I scrambled to my feet and turned to run.

The light seemed to shift around me as I rushed down the corridor, sconces ahead dimming while shadows darkened from the light behind. I glanced back when I reached the far corner. It was difficult to tell in the uncertain light, but it looked like the glowing thing was moving away from me—which meant it was chasing the other two. Even as I made that realization, a limb of light extended from it with blinding speed in my direction. I had just long enough to twitch to the side, so the force of the blow only brushed my side before smashing into the rock wall behind me, sending chips and dust flying. I darted around the corner before the thing could take another shot at me.

I nearly tripped on the carpet as I rounded the next corner. Scathsa and Loki were racing towards me, the light behind them brightening. I stopped, thinking that we might take shelter in one of the rooms along the hall, but Scathsa shouted “Downstairs!” I nodded and ran to the archway, reaching it seconds before they did, and clambered down the steps. Scathsa took advantage of eir quadrupedal form to launch off the walls and railings, bounding past me on the landing. I could hear Loki clattering down the stairs right behind me, able to move more quickly in his own accustomed bipedal form.

We burst out into the huge entrance chamber. Scathsa turned and gestured for silence, then sprinted for one of the empty stalls carved into the rock. Loki and I dove into the alcove seconds before the glowing shape pulled itself out of the stairwell. From the reflections of light above the half-open stall door, it appeared to stop, then begin moving around the room along the far wall.

I huddled down next to Scathsa and Loki. “Does it track us by sound?” I breathed, watching the shadows creeping above our heads.

“I don’t think so,” Scathsa said, though eir voice was as low as mine. “I think it’s tracking our movement, probably aetheric and vibrationally.”

“If we keep still here, do you think it won’t be able to find us?” Loki asked.

Scathsa shook eir head, looking distracted. “It’ll find us eventually,” e said. “I’m sure if it felt us, it’d know. It’s like a spider—sensing movement along the strands of its web.”

“So what do we do?” I said. The thing was nearly parallel with us along the far wall, still moving slowly. I shuddered as if I could feel its attention slide along my body. “We can’t keep running, we can’t hide, and I don’t know how we’re going to open the gate. I’m guessing Heimdall wouldn’t be able to get us out through this aetheric net, assuming he can see us at all.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s an aetheric construct.” Scathsa peeked up over the door of the stall to glance at the glowing shape, then hunched down again. “I could unravel it, given time, but it’d attack as soon as it felt me poking at it. We might be able to disrupt its form with physical damage, but I don’t think that would work for long, and I’m certain we couldn’t do enough damage to slow it down anyway without weapons.”

“I have some knives left,” Loki said, “But I can’t draw energy to charge them with magic, and it’s just ignoring them now.”

Scathsa nodded. “It’s locked the aether down tight around us. Part of the trap—we can’t use the aether without breaking into the weave, but if we try it’ll feel us immediately and start attacking.”

Something was tickling at my memory, but I couldn’t quite put a claw on it. The bright blob was still working its way around the cavern, and had almost reached the front gate. “So what do we do?” I repeated, unable to keep the anxiety out of my voice.

“I’m trying to come up with a solution,” Scathsa replied sharply. “If you can think of anything that can disrupt tightly-woven aetheric webs aside from doing a ridiculous amount of physical damage—”

“A Spellbreaker weapon,” Loki said, his eyes widening.

“Well, yes, that would be perfect, but we don’t have one… do we?” Scathsa said, tilting eir head as e took in our expressions.

“I never did get around to putting it into the armory. It’s still stored in my personal vault, and I have the link with me.” Loki pulled a talisman out of his pocket, then shook his head. “But it requires magical—aetheric—energy to open the link, and even more than usual, to get it from Asgard to here.”

“I can give you all the energy you need,” Scathsa said. “That is, I can pull it out of the net around us, but that thing will be on us as soon as I start.”

I watched as the aetheric construct completed its course across the gate and began creeping across the wall back towards us. “I’ll keep it away from you,” I said. “Ready?” The other two nodded, and I took a deep breath before jumping over the half-open stall door and into the open area of the cavern. As I did, I used the energy I’d hoarded from the remnants of my illusory armor to shift into my native form. I could feel the tugging of the aetheric net as Scathsa immediately began pulling threads out. The glowing shape’s attention seemed to be divided, so I charged it.

The construct probably didn’t have anything to worry about from any normal physical attack. Its reaction would depend on who had programmed its responses, and what priority they’d been given. It seemed a safe bet that a charging dragon would be rated as a more important threat than aetheric manipulation that didn’t involve a direct attack. At least, I hoped so.

And, as I collided with its suddenly solid surface and was thrown backwards across the floor, I found myself proven correct. I scrambled to my feet, scooting backwards just in time to avoid a blow that gouged a crater in the stone floor, and reflected that all I had to do was survive until the others could retrieve the Spellbreaker. Which might not be as easy as I’d thought.

I wasn’t able to avoid all its attacks, and the ones that hit were painfully hard, as I raced and dodged frantically across the wide cavern. I could feel that my regenerative ability was lagging, probably from lack of aetheric access. Injuries that normally would have healed in seconds were lingering and being compounded. My reaction time was slowing as the damage built up.

A solid hit to my side knocked the wind out of me, and I heard the cracking of my ribs before the pain reached me. I drew on my warrior’s training, pushing the pain and fear out of my mind, and went on the offensive against the construct. Roaring, I gripped it in my foretalons, biting savagely as I beat my wings for leverage. Blows rained down on my head and sides as I climbed almost on top of it and began raking at its mass with my back claws. I couldn’t get a firm grip on it, even as it seemed to be compressing into a more solid mass beneath me. Its attacks were slower and farther between, but stronger as it concentrated on damaging me enough to stop my assault. I roared again, letting the ancient bloodlust of my ancestry flow through me as I bent all of my will and power towards destroying my foe—an assault that I couldn’t keep up for more than a few seconds before a particularly heavy hit to the side of my head blurred my vision, making everything seem very far away. I shook my head, trying to recover, and it took advantage of my weakness to curl around the large joint of my right wing and wrench it hard enough to dislocate. Screaming, I thrashed in helpless pain, and found myself suddenly dropped to the floor as the semi-solid construct underneath me vanished. The aetheric net was loosening, and my body was recovering quickly, but I couldn’t quite focus on Loki as he dropped the Spellbreaker and ran to my side before I fell into darkness.

Chapter Text

I wasn’t out for more than a few minutes. I woke with Laharu crouched beside me in his native form, siphoning energy into my body and helping it regenerate the more nasty wounds I’d taken in the fight. I blinked, surprised to see that we were still in Tyr’s prison.

“Scathsa was concerned that you weren’t regenerating quickly,” Laharu said, correctly interpreting my expression. “E didn’t want to risk carrying you back through the bumpy ride of the Bifrost, so Loki went back and called for assistance. We brought a troop of guards with us, and an expert of some sort who’s up in the study with the other two, poking at something Scathsa found.”

I sat up, flexing my wing, and winced. “Am I cleared for duty?” I asked, tucking it back against my side.

Laharu snorted. “Don’t get into any fights for the next day or two, if you can help it. Otherwise, yes, you’re cleared. Though I know what you really want is to go upstairs and see what they found.”

“Considering the beating I took to find it, yes,” I said, shifting into my Aesir guard form and reassembling an illusion of armor as I stood up. “Aren’t you curious about it?”

“Of course,” Laharu said, also putting on his guard form to walk alongside me. “I just hope e’s disabled all the traps this time.”

We could hear Scathsa’s voice as we walked down the hallway, chattering excitedly with another Aesir. Loki looked up and flashed a quick smile at us as we entered the study, but the other two didn’t seem to notice our arrival.

“The resonance crystal doesn’t store the vibrations, no,” Scathsa was saying, pointing at something on the desk. “But there’s traces left in the buffer, and—”

“Only traces!” The Aesir had long black hair woven into a thick braid, dark skin, no beard, and seemed annoyed. “I’m not going to waste days running it through our most finely-tuned particle detector looking for something that might not even—”

“You don’t have to spend days,” Scathsa snapped. “Look, all you have to do is…”

I walked to stand beside Loki, with Laharu behind me. “What are they talking about?” I asked quietly.

“Scathsa found an ansible,” he said. “He’s pretty sure that’s what set off the trap, when he touched it.”

“E,” I said. Loki glanced at me, then nodded.

“Scathsa thinks that e could get information about what was being transmitted from the ansible itself,” he continued. I couldn’t help a small smile, pleased with Loki’s ready adaptation to our pronouns. “The ansible isn’t Asgard-made, and Jari doesn’t think that she could get anything useful out of it.”

“Tyr’s ally must have brought him the ansible,” I said, watching the argument across the desk. “Unless he was allowed to have it when he was banished—or built it himself?”

Loki snorted. “Of course not,” he said. “That was part of his banishment—no outside contact whatsoever was allowed. If Tyr had tried to make the parts for an ansible, the security system would have immediately noticed it and alerted Odin. Whoever gave it to him also set up the traps and alarms we found—Tyr never had enough magical skill to do such workings on his own. Scathsa told us that the first trap was meant to destroy the ansible if it was touched by someone other than Tyr, to destroy the evidence, and e was able to disable that. But e didn’t find the secondary trap, the one that shut down the aether around us and summoned the energy being. We certainly weren’t meant to bring the news back to Asgard.”

“I know Asgard ansibles can communicate with all the other Nine Realms, because they use the same material that the Bifrost is made from. Is there any way to tell what was on the other end of this ansible’s transmissions, or where they went?” I asked.

“Only generally. Scathsa says that the resonance crystal is tuned to Muspelheim, but can’t pinpoint it any better than that.”

“Surtur’s realm?” Laharu said. “Our information is that most of the Marauder gangs are based there, one way or another. We don’t know if Surtur is actively supporting them with dark energy to make their raids between the realms, but he’s at least tolerating their presence.”

“Ours is the same,” Loki said, nodding. “It’s expected that he’ll be mustering for war sometime soon, possibly in the next few centuries. He’s prophesied to be the bringer of Ragnarok, the doom of Asgard. If Tyr is working with Surtur…” he trailed off, and we were silent for a moment as we digested this idea.

Our thoughts were interrupted by shouting from the desk. Laharu quickly threw a shield between Scathsa and Jari, as they seemed about to come to blows. When Scathsa’s gesturing bounced off the shield, e turned and glared at us, then stalked out of the study while Jari folded her arms, fuming.

“Have you agreed on a course of action?” Loki asked her mildly. Laharu glanced at me, then followed Scathsa out into the corridor.

The dark-skinned Aesir took a second to compose herself, then bowed slightly. “Yes, my lord,” she said. “We will transport the ansible back to Asgard, where Scathsa and I hope that more advanced equipment will allow us to extract information from the device.”

“Do you believe you can work with Scathsa without needing guards to prevent violence?”

Jari’s face flushed darker still, her aura swirling with conflicting emotions as she caught sight of Scathsa walking back into the room with Laharu. “I—yes, my lord,” she said, then bowed again and left, carefully avoiding looking in Scathsa’s direction.

Loki raised his eyebrows as Scathsa approached and also bowed. “No offense against Jari or Asgard was intended,” e said. At a nudge from Laharu, e added, “I will not harm her while we are working together.”

“Thank you for your assurance,” Loki replied.

Looking at Scathsa’s aura, I rubbed my head and sighed. “Don’t worry, she likes you too,” I told eir.

“It’ll give Daucus something to gossip about other than your relationship with the Jotun,” e snapped in our language.

I looked up, casting a quick sound screen in the doorway to prevent the guard in the corridor from overhearing. “Loki and I have been working to establish a diplomatic foundation to the negotiations, and to maintain our security in Asgard,” I replied heatedly, also in our language.

Loki stepped forward, frowning. “Wait,” he said in Aesir. “What—did you say I was—a Jotun?”

Scathsa glanced at me with a mortified expression. “There may have been a mistake in your translator,” I said, switching back to Aesir.

“No.” Loki shook his head, looking at me. “You’ve said other things… what do you mean?”

We started at each other for a minute. I cursed myself viciously in my head, and wished I had the skill to remove the memory of what had been said from Loki’s mind, but couldn’t think of a reply.

“It was—a jest,” Laharu said with a forced smile. “A private joke among us, and a poor one.”

I winced as Loki took a step backwards, his expression darkening. “If you have any affection for me, if anything we have said or done together meant anything at all to you, then tell me the truth.” His words pierced me like a spear of ice. “Why do you think I’m a… Frost Giant?”

I sighed. There was no way out of this. “We’ve known ever since we first saw you,” I said. “All of us did. We can see it in your aura, and in the pattern of your form.”

“But I’m…” He gave a small, gasping laugh, reaching out as if he could grasp the disintegrating shroud of his identity as an Aesir and wrap it around himself again. “I’m short, even for Aesir. And I’m not blue!”

“You’re pattern-locked.” I shrugged, unsure why he wanted me to explain this. “Whether it was done by your parents or by—your Aesir parents, your natural shape-shifting ability is locked down into your appearance of an Aesir, so that it would take much more effort than usual for you to change. I thought it was to prevent you from shifting accidentally, or to remind you to stay in Aesir form.”

Loki’s already pale face blanched further, and he staggered away from us, leaning against a wall. “I can’t shape-shift,” he whispered. “It’s just illusions. Tricks.”

“You can’t because you’re locked down,” I repeated, and stepped forward, holding out my hand. “Loki… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought this up. I hope this doesn’t cause any problems with the negotiations—”

He retreated from me, eyes wide and staring. “I can’t—I have to go.” He turned away, shoving past the startled guard and retreating down the corridor at almost a run.

I cursed under my breath, glaring at Scathsa. I had no idea what Loki was going to do, but I had to assume the worst—that he was going to tell Odin about our transgression, that the talks were over, and we were quite possibly about to go to war. I only had a few seconds before he would be out of sight at the end of the corridor, so I constructed a simple aetheric dart and attached it to his aura.

“What was that all about?” Laharu asked, switching back to our language. “I know we weren’t supposed to talk about him being a Jotun, but I don’t understand his reaction.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “It—doesn’t make sense to me, either.” We all felt the surge of energy as Heimdall activated the Bifrost, presumably to bring Loki back to Asgard.

“I should stay here, make sure the ansible is secured properly,” Scathsa said.

“No,” Laharu said. “We’ll find Jari, you tell her what needs to be done, and we all go back together. No more splitting up until we’ve reported to Aizerue. Maybe e can figure out what’s going on.”

I tried to control my anxiety as we hustled down the corridor in search of the Aesir tech, but it was impossible to ignore the feeling that I had missed something, and whatever it was could put our entire mission in jeopardy.

Chapter Text

The moment we returned to Asgard, I felt the aetheric tracer I’d sent after Loki activate, telling me he was somewhere deep within the palace. We were tense and silent during the skybarge ride from the Bifrost. As soon as the doors to our suite closed behind us, I handed my end of the tracer pattern to Scathsa. “Can you expand and stabilize this?” I asked, and e nodded, cupping eir hands and concentrating.

“What’s going on?” Aizerue said sharply, emerging naked from the sauna in Aesir form.

“We just let slip to Loki that we know he’s Jotun, and he reacted—very strangely,” I replied.

“I let it slip, you mean,” Scathsa said bitterly, expanding the trace into a small image that let us view Loki. I glanced through it and was relieved to see that he was walking calmly through the halls of the palace, hands clasped behind his back. His aura churned with agitation, but his expression was perfectly placid and his steps even.

“I thought about it on the ride over, and it really isn’t your fault,” I told Scathsa. E looked up in surprise as I sighed. “Loki said that I’d dropped other hints that we could see the truth. I knew it was delicate, but I hadn’t thought he’d react so strongly.”

“What exactly happened?” Aizerue said with remarkable calm. The three of us sketched out the conversation as we watched Loki through the traced connection. Gradually, a blotch of ugly brownish red spread across the Jotun’s aetheric form. He paused, purple lightning flickering across his aura, then turned and set off in a new direction, his pace more rapid and his expression grim.

“You’ve spent the most time with him,” Daucus said, still watching the image of Loki. “Can’t you tell what those colors in his aura mean?”

“The purple lightning is his conflicting feelings of jealousy and affection for his brother,” I said musingly, “but you’ve probably all figured that out by now. I’ve never seen that red color, though it reminds me of the Aesir emotion of…” I trailed off and looked up at Aizerue, who sat down abruptly.

“Destructive rage,” e said, almost in a whisper.

As we spoke, Loki approached a short hallway with several Aesir guards standing watch. The guards moved as if to challenge him, but Loki snapped something and waved his hands, and the guards returned to their posts. As the Jotun strode towards a large, heavy door, the image gradually faded. It blinked out, and Scathsa raised eir head. “The trace is blocked,” e said. “I could try to find another way in, but it’ll take a while. This is the strongest security I’ve seen anywhere in the palace, technological or aetheric.”

Aizerue was already shaking eir head. “Don’t bother,” e said. “I have an idea of what’s in that room. Keep an eye on the corridor, and let us know as soon as Loki leaves. Malalik, Laharu, Sigyn—combat forms, please.”

I froze, not really believing what seemed to be happening. Malalik only hesitated for a moment before wriggling out of her armor. By the time she was beginning her transformation, Laharu and I were following suit. Each of us had different shapes for fighting, chosen on the basis of personal combat style and aesthetics. Malalik caught my eye and gestured towards the door, and I moved to crouch in front of it, blocking the entrance with the bulk of the bipedal, wingless draconic body I’d used in the fight in the palace corridors, so many days before. Laharu twined his heavily armored and segmented body in loose coils around the chair where Aizerue sat, while Malalik floated up in the form of a huge cloud shark to bump gently against the high ceiling, draping muscular tendrils tipped with barbs around the borders of our group.

Meanwhile, the diplomats had been making their own changes into forms designed for escape, concealment, and defense. Both of them looked the same—tiny versions of their true selves, with articulated armor plates and large wings. If necessary, they could curl up into nearly indestructible balls, or become invisible and escape while we fought to cover their retreat.

Scathsa alone kept eir Aesir form, still concentrating on holding the image in eir hands. As we settled ourselves to wait, e swore quietly. “Odin just entered the hall.” We all stared at the image, willing the Allfather to turn away, but he marched straight down the corridor and waved his spear at the enormous door. The security screening prevented us from seeing what happened clearly, but we all got the impression of the door opening and Odin walking into the room before the door sealed itself behind him.

“Daucus, activate the emergency portal.”

The small dragon looked at Aizerue uncertainly, then nodded. Hie closed hir eyes and concentrated. Aetheric threads began to weave together, glowing and sparking, into a ring that seemed to open from every angle. Power fed into it from Daucus’ personal data pattern, which curled up off hir aetheric foreleg and crumpled, burning out as it was drained to fuel the gate. In a few seconds, the ring was just big enough for the diplomats to pass through, showing a vision of a specially prepared chamber in the Caldera.

“What’s at the end of that hallway, Aizerue?” Scathsa asked hesitantly.

The senior diplomat sighed and looked around at us. “According to our best intelligence, that is the relic chamber of Asgard, where the most ancient and powerful artifacts are housed. We’ve only positively traced a few devices into that room—the Warlock’s Eye, the Tablet of Life, the Casket of Ancient Winters—but our intelligence hints at others. Tyrfing. The Infinity Gauntlet.”

“Weapons,” Malalik said, with a shiver that was echoed by everyone in the room. “Terrible weapons.”

“Now, we wait,” Aizerue said. “And analyze the available data. Sigyn, may we access your memory of what happened directly?”

I couldn’t help flinching, even though I had been expecting the request. Privacy of the mind is nearly sacred to us, which we’ve found is a common theme among successful cultures of telepaths. Showing others the contents of our minds is much like undressing for Aesir—embarrassing, uncomfortably revealing, only done in private or in emergency situations. On top of that, I was feeling increasingly guilty about having slipped up and started this whole mess, which was already seeping into the memory of the event and would be obvious to everybody who saw it. But there was no getting around it; this was most definitely an emergency. I took a deep breath, then lowered my head to Scathsa. “You have my permission,” I said formally, and focused on the memory, opening my mental barriers.

Scathsa’s intrusion was delicate and professional. E isolated the memory and drew it forward in my mind, linking it with another image-bubble for everyone to see. I clenched my jaw, tailtip twitching, as I tried to suppress my humiliation. There was no hiding the affection and even attraction I had developed for the Jotun, as uncomfortably revealing as an erection on a loosely closed male Aesir. I jumped a little as I felt something gently nudge against the back of my neck, but was able to relax a bit as Malalik sent me feelings of empathy, friendship, and peace, rubbing my shoulders with one of her tendrils. Her support helped me calm my emotions.

The diplomats had been watching the scene intently. Suddenly Daucus jerked hir head back. “He didn’t know,” he said.

Aizerue tilted eir own head. “He didn’t know what? That we knew?”

“No, he didn’t know that he was a Jotun!”

Stunned silence followed this announcement. The scene as played back, and this time, Loki’s reactions fell into place. It had never occurred to me, to any of us, that he might have been unaware of his species, but the explanation made perfect sense of his dismay and denial.

“Frigga must have known,” Laharu said, his voice a deep, breathy hiss. “Odin, too. You said they have the Casket of Ancient Winters—they took that from Jotunheim. Did they simply steal a Jotun infant while they were looting?”

“And then raised him as an Aesir,” I said, trying to keep the disgusted snarl out of my own voice. “They must have pattern-locked him as an infant so he’d never learn how to access his natural abilities. They couldn’t suppress his magic, though, so they trained him in it instead, knowing it would tarnish his standing in Asgard society…” The memory being shared with the others flashed back to an earlier conversation, Loki’s frustration at having been told all his life that he was “born to be a king,” but having known for centuries that Thor was Odin’s chosen heir, and had been all along. “Odin kept saying they were both born to be kings. He never said that Thor would be king of Asgard, but Loki was meant to be king of Jotunheim!”

“He couldn’t be king of Jotunheim, though,” Scathsa pointed out. “He’s too small. He’s pattern-locked with Aesir coloring, but that is his birth form he’s locked into. The Jotun would never have accepted him as their king. I’m surprised he survived long enough for Odin to find and abduct him.”

“But with the training he’s gotten,” Aizerue said slowly, “and the full might of Asgard backing him up… Odin was grooming him to take the throne. He was planning on it all along.”

“He might have played off Loki as a half-breed, or even an Aesir who had somehow learned some of the Jotun traits,” Daucus mused. “Or he could simply kill Laufey and install Loki as the regent. What choice would the Jotun have? Raised to affection and loyalty for the ruling family of Asgard, steeped in Aesir customs—and given the Casket of Ancient Winters to keep the peace, because he could use it safely when other Aesir can barely touch the thing.”

“But Loki didn’t know any of this,” I said. “He’s spent his entire life thinking he was meant to rule Asgard—and that’s what he wants, not to be king of what he thinks is a frozen wasteland full of barbarians, a realm he knows almost nothing about and has never even been allowed to visit!” Malalik’s tendril squeezed my shoulders gently, and I realized I’d been roaring by the end of that outburst. I leaned back, concentrating on calming my emotions.

Scathsa interrupted the discussion. “Something’s happening,” e said. We snapped into tense silence as we refocused on the scene in the hallway. Several guards ran into the void at the end of the hallway, to emerge a few moments later, bearing a prone figure on a hovering platform of energy.

“It’s Odin,” Daucus said, giving voice to the shock we all felt. “And Loki walking next to him—has Loki killed him?”

“No… look at Odin’s aura,” Aizerue said. The previously impenetrable, blank mask of white and gold lines that represented Odin’s aetheric signature had changed into a sickly golden glow, churning slowly. “It’s the eldersleep. Older Aesir need to do this sometimes, to renew their energy, though he must have been holding it off for the negotiations. Whatever happened in the vault upset him enough that he lost control.” E looked up at us, eir expression more worried that at any other point of the crisis. “If he is recalled from exile, this may mean… that Thor is now king of Asgard.”

Our image followed the guards as they rushed Odin to his chambers. Frigga had appeared and was speaking with Loki. They stopped in the hallway, letting the guards pass them as Frigga put her hands on her adopted son’s shoulders. Loki shook his head, on the verge of tears, his aura a frenzied storm of muddled colors. She tried to embrace him, but he stiffened and pulled away, still shaking his head. He said something that caused a flash of white-hot pain across her aura, then turned and ran down another corridor, ignoring her calls.

“Daucus,” Aizerue said. We all startled and looked to our leader. “Go through the portal and give a report of the situation. Get the portal reinforced on the other end. We’re going to need to keep it open for a while. Come back when it’s been stabilized.” The tiny drake nodded and darted through the glowing ring, then vanished from sight into the plain stone room beyond.

“Scathsa, drop the images,” e continued. “I need you to focus on hiding this portal as completely as possible. Maintaining such a large power drain might attract Heimdall’s notice even through Loki’s shroud. Can you do that?”

“I can do most of it, but I could use some help manipulating the aetheric threads to flow around it.” Scathsa looked at Laharu. “If we work together, we should be able to keep it hidden for a while, at least.” The stone snake nodded.

“All right—Laharu, Scathsa, keep Aesir shapes. No more clothing; from now on, we wear illusions when we’re in Aesir form, and if they see through it they deserve to get an eyeful of our anatomy.” Aizerue quirked a half-smile as e shifted into eir own Aesir form, and most of us couldn’t help snickering a bit. “Malalik, keep your shape, but stay invisible. Sigyn… back to Aesir form for you. I suspect we’re going to be called for soon, and I’m not willing to go without a guard right now.”

Just as my transformation completed, there was a pounding on the entrance portal. We’d mostly gotten used to the Aesir custom of “knocking,” but this was a much heavier banging than usual. Aizerue stood up, clothed in illusory diplomat’s robes, and nodded to me. I glanced at Scathsa and Laharu, but they’d already covered their work on the portal with a simple illusion of the two of them playing some kind of board game, both in their Aesir forms. Reading for the possibility of an attack, I keyed the door open.

Four tense guards stood in the hallway. “Your presence is demanded in the throne room,” one said to Aizerue, his aura bristling with deep red rage. “Immediately.”

E bowed, walking out of the suite without hesitation. I fell into step behind eir, and the guards surrounded us, setting a brisk pace.

Chapter Text

Despite the implied urgency of our summons, when we arrived at the throne room we were hustled off to one side and told there would be some delay. The crowd was much larger than it had been when we were first presented in Asgard, and more people were arriving in the throne room every few minutes, gathering into clusters and whispering quietly. We could see that the throne itself was empty, with a line of guards standing at attention next to the dais. Aizerue and I sharpened our hearing, and exchanged glances as we listened to the officials and nobles around us speculating about who would become the ruler of Asgard.

Soon, a pair of the diplomats involved in our negotiations approached and struck up a casual conversation with Aizerue. Both of us relaxed a little, understanding the political undertones of the gesture, that we were not being officially blamed for Odin’s condition—at least, not yet. Through the open balconies of the chamber I could see that night had fallen outside as I fought to control my anxiety.

The clatter of armor and arms silenced conversations all around us as everyone turned to the throne, where a caped figure was being escorted onto the dais. When the figure was seated and the guards stepped down, it seemed that the entire chamber exhaled in a sigh of relief to see Queen Frigga on the throne of Asgard, holding Gungnir and wearing a chestplate and helmet. She sat for several moments, letting the audience get a good look at her, then stood up and tapped the butt of the spear on the platform, with its familiar booming echoes.

“Citizens of Asgard, my friends,” she said, her voice strong and calm. “Odin Allfather has retired for the time being, to rest in eldersleep. Due to various circumstances, rather than taking the position of regent as has been done on previous occasions, it was deemed necessary for me to publicly assume the mantle of Asgard’s rule. As before, you may be assured that I have been privy to Odin’s counsel and that I am in agreement with his policies and practices.

“I understand that there is some concern about our eldest son’s fitness to rule,” she continued. We weren’t the only people in the crowd to look surprised that she was addressing the issue so directly. “Though it pains me to do so, I must uphold Odin’s decree of banishment at this time. It is our most sincere hope that he may be returned to your confidence in time, but we would not force him upon you unwillingly. Therefore, our son Loki has been confirmed as heir to the throne of Asgard.”

Murmurs washed through the room like a wave, along with a light scattering of applause. I wondered about Loki’s reaction to this pronouncement, but as I scanned the crowd I realized that he wasn’t present.

“I also wish to clearly affirm that our negotiations with Nastrond will continue.” Frigga looked directly at Aizerue and gave eir a slight nod. “Hostile efforts have been made by an outside party to disrupt these proceedings, but we will not allow the actions of a few misguided fanatics to prevent us from continuing to strengthen the peace of the Nine Realms.”

Her gaze swept across the crowd. “The sword of Asgard has always been held by a king—but a queen has always guarded the scabbard. After generations of war, the people may lose sight of what the ultimate purpose of war is: to ensure peace. We swore a millennium ago to act only as protectors of the realms—never as conquerors, never as vengeful destroyers. I will uphold that vow to the best of my ability, and I thank you for your trust and support in the times ahead.”

Another, stronger round of applause greeted the end of her speech as she sat down. Her aura was now the same blank slate of white and gold lines that Odin’s had been, more evidence that the aetheric screening was probably some aspect of Gungnir’s powers. However, during the speech I was also able to see other aetheric threads weaving around her, more subtle and purposeful than Loki’s, touching particular members of the audience to draw forth feelings of loyalty and acceptance. I remembered then that Frigga was Vanir. Since Vanaheim had never adopted Asgard’s mistrust of “magic,” it seemed likely that she was a fully trained aetheric practitioner.

As the herald called out names, the people summoned stepped forward into a column of light around the throne, a shield to sound and vision, for Frigga to speak with them privately. As we waited our turn, several more Aesir approached Aizerue for brief exchanges of pleasantries. Evidently the Queen’s speech had raised our political value.

We didn’t have long to wait before our turn was called to approach the throne. I knelt, pressing my fist to my chest in the Aesir salute, while Aizerue bowed deeply. E straightened up as I stood and seemed about to speak, but Frigga shook her head slightly and e waited.

“I do not know the circumstances, but it seems that Loki has learned of his heritage from one of your party.” She shook her head again and raised her hand. “I must apologize for putting you in that position,” she said. “I knew it was likely you would see his true nature, but I was not—able to inform you of the situation.” Her demeanor was regretful, but I couldn’t help wondering how much of it was an act, and what exactly she meant by “able.” Had she truly been unable, under orders or a geas? Or had it just not been politically expedient until now?

“The matter is not an—official secret,” she continued. “But I would like to give Loki the choice whether to let it be publicly known.”

“You may trust our discretion, your highness,” Aizerue said, nodding.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “There is also the matter of what was discovered on Svartalfheim. I understand that an ansible was recovered?”

“Yes, your highness. Our security expert beliefs that e may be able to recover information about the messages that were transmitted between Tyr and his accomplice, given sufficient time and access to the proper equipment.”

“I will make the necessary arrangements. Please let me know if you require any assistance, or if there is anything else we may do to ensure your safety while you are here.”

I thought about my suggestion to Odin about having the palace guards use communicators, but kept my silence as Aizerue thanked her. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, we were dismissed from her presence, and escorted back to our rooms by a pair of guards who were much more relaxed than the group that had brought us to the audience chamber.

When we turned the corner in the hall leading to our suite, I immediately spotted Loki leaning casually against the wall behind a shroud of aetheric threads. The guards, unable to see him through the veil, walked us to the door and stood at attention while we entered. I raised an eyebrow at Loki, holding the door open for Aizerue a few seconds longer than necessary and allowing him to slip into the suite along with us.

As soon as the door was closed he dropped the illusion and bowed to us. “I apologize for the unexpected intrusion,” he said.

“I bid you welcome,” Aizerue said, with a note of impatience in eir voice. “There—now you’re not intruding, you’re our guest. How may we help you?”

Loki ran his hands over his head. I realized that he was still wearing his travel outfit from Svartalfheim, and that his usually immaculate hair was in disarray. “I… you may not believe this, but—I didn’t know,” he said, his voice unsteady.

“Frigga told us.” He looked up sharply, but I shook my head. “Not before, just now. If we had known—if I had known… it’s a dangerous secret to keep from you.”

“Dangerous?” he asked, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

Aizerue had already walked away to update Daucus and Malalik, who shifted into her Aesir form as they talked. Laharu came over and sat down on a couch near us. “If you had been Vanir, it wouldn’t have been a problem,” he said. I took his cue and sat down, as did Loki. “Vanir and Aesir are basically the same species. Aesir and Jotun look vaguely similar, but there are essential differences—in physiology, psychology, and aetheric patterns. Imagine—a horse being raised by deer. Without any other horses to compare zirself to, zie would try to fit in with the herd, but always feel a thousand subtle differences that zie couldn’t explain.”

“That… I always…” Loki rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. “I thought, there must be something—wrong with me,” he said.

“A child is never at fault for being zir own species,” I said, more harshly than I had intended. The other two looked at me in surprise, and I leaned back, trying to calm myself. “There’s also the fact that you’re a natural shapeshifter.”

“You said that before,” Loki said, shaking his head. “And that I’m—locked?”

“Pattern-locked,” Laharu said. “Your body is that of your basic natural shape, with slight alterations to fit in among Aesir, but there’s a knot in your pattern blocking your shape-shifting ability that must have been put there deliberately.”

“Can it be removed?”

Laharu shrugged. “Much more easily than the geas you two broke earlier,” he confirmed. “But not here, and not now.”

Before Loki could ask, Aizerue spoke up, standing in front of the door to the sauna. “Not here, because there is some risk of uncontrolled energy release from pattern disruption,” e said.

“An explosion,” Scathsa said helpfully from where e was sprawled across another couch. “And not now, because we’re all exhausted and there’s too much risk of messing up and causing an explosion.”

“Tomorrow,” I said, smiling at Loki. “If you can take me back to where we broke the geas.”

“All right.” He smiled back at me, as the patterns of his aura gradually calmed. “And… I know it’s an imposition, but—could I stay here tonight? I don’t…” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

“A shock like you’ve had today would be likely to cause nightmares,” Laharu said, standing up and looking at Aizerue.

“He can stay, if you’ll accept responsibility for the security risk,” Aizerue replied, glaring at me.

I nodded to eir. “I accept responsibility for our guest and his behavior,” I said formally. Aizerue rolled eir eyes and retreated to the sauna, slamming the door. I winced, then looked back at Loki with a wry smile as the others arranged themselves and dimmed the lights. Although we had been given five bedrooms, we had fallen into the habit of all sleeping in the large central room, except whoever had a turn to stay in the sauna. It helped us sleep more comfortably in each others’ company, and also made dream-sharing easier, when we chose to do so.

Loki looked around with a slightly bemused expression, then shrugged and lay down on his back across the couch where he had been sitting. I decided to shift into my native form to allow for better sleep and recovery from the exertion and injuries of the day, and coiled myself loosely around the base of the couch.

“I should mention, I know about the portal.” He turned his head to look at me as he gestured vaguely towards the illusion of the gaming table that still stood to one side of the room.

I raised my head to peer at Loki’s face. “Oh. Uh…”

“I only sensed it because I’m here, close to it,” he said quietly. “I can guarantee that nobody else knows, otherwise mother—Frigga… would never have allowed me to come here.” His voice faltered and he turned back to look at the ceiling. “And I can guarantee that I won’t tell anybody for the same reason. I feel more comfortable with you—your people, that is—than I have for… as long as I can remember.” He turned back to me and reached his hand out. “Now I know why. Thank you.”

I leaned forward, pressing the end of my muzzle into his hand while maintaining eye contact. I could see by his smile that he understood my gesture as a mirror of his kiss to the back of my hand, at our first real meeting. “You’re welcome,” I said, lowering my head to rest on my crossed forelegs. “Now get some sleep. You’ll need your energy tomorrow.”

I closed my eyes and drifted into a light meditative state, waiting. When Loki’s breath slowed and evened, I checked his pattern to make sure he was truly asleep before curling the tip of my tail very lightly around his ankle. With the contact established, I was confident that I could sense enough of his dreams to prevent him from being trapped in a nightmare, and I finally drifted off to sleep myself.

Chapter Text

I was the last to wake the next morning, as servants brought in our breakfast at the usual time. I glanced at the couch I’d curled around, and was relieved to see that Loki had already hidden himself under an illusion of invisibility. The others were in their Aesir forms, gathered around the table where plates were being distributed and talking quietly. By now the attendants that had been assigned to our care were accustomed to seeing us in our native forms, and didn’t do more than glance in my direction as I raised my head and yawned.

I shifted into my Aesir guard form, clothed in my own illusion of armor, and padded over to the table, pouring myself a mug of steaming tea and smiling at the servants as they finished their work. A couple of them smiled back as they left, which I considered to be a minor diplomatic victory in its own right. As soon as the doors closed, Loki dropped his invisibility and joined us at the table.

“Scathsa has been excused from guard duty to work on the ansible,” Malalik said as we ate. Scathsa wriggled like a hatchling until e realized that we were smirking at eir, then flushed and was still. Malalik chuckled and shook her head. “The rest of us are officially on duty for the negotiations today,” she continued. “We can cover for one absent guard without raising questions—and if you had to choose one, we know who you’d pick,” she added, raising an eyebrow at me. I managed to keep my head up by an effort of will, but now it was my turn to feel a flush creeping across my face. “Sigyn should be able to handle removing your pattern lock with zir training, but it would probably be quicker and easier on your system to have Laharu and Daucus go along. Of course, we couldn’t cover for all of them without calling off the talks today.”

“Which would raise questions no matter what I said, especially after—the Queen’s speech last night,” Loki said. He sipped his tea, then shook his head. “I’d rather keep this as… private as possible, until I’ve had more time to think about it. I’ll tell my—Frigga that I’ll be absent for the day, with a hint that I need some time to myself that she will understand as a request for privacy.”

“Very well.” Aizerue stood up from the table and nodded to us. “Sigyn, Scathsa, be careful. Remember that you are responsible for more than just our lives.” Eir expression bordered on a scowl, and both of us bowed our heads, subdued by the reminder.

Laharu wove an illusory copy of me to join the procession to the negotiations and they filed out of the rooms, doors closing behind them to leave the three of us to finish our tea. An unexpected urge to grab Loki and drag him through the portal to my homeworld caught me by surprise, and I blinked, fighting it down. It would solve a couple of problems, but it would also cause several much larger ones.

“Ahah! I have you in my power!” Scathsa gloated, leaning back in eir chair with a wicked grin. “You have to remain invisible and can’t open the doors without me! I could keep you trapped here all day!”

Loki put down his cup and smirked right back. “You could, but then you’d spend all day sitting here with us rather than working on the ansible—with Jari.”

Scathsa opened eir mouth, closed it, then laughed. “You’re good,” e said, shaking eir head and standing up. “I think we all have somewhere else we’d rather be.”

Loki and I pulled illusions of invisibility around ourselves as Scathsa opened the door, and followed eir out into the hallway. Scathsa walked down the corridor deeper into the palace while we turned to the balcony, where a skybarge sat unattended. I settled myself on the bench as Loki took the tiller and the barge rose smoothly into the clear morning air. After setting a course, he held up a finger to his lips, which I took to mean that I should remain invisible as he dropped his illusion and wove a small aetheric pattern. He whispered a message into his cupped hand, then sent it darting back the way we had come. Finally he drew the shroud that blocked Heimdall’s sight around the barge and looked at me.

“How long do you think it will take to—unbind me, or whatever it is you’ll be doing?”

I shrugged. “From what I’ve seen, the pattern that’s locking you down doesn’t seem to be very complex,” I said. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour or so. I’d like to give you a couple more hours afterwards to acclimate before returning here, though.”

“Not Nidavellir, then.” He made an adjustment to the controls and turned the barge in a different direction. “I know a route to a nice place in Alfheim that’s closer.” He looked up as I released my illusions, then blinked as he realized that I’d removed all of the illusions over my Aesir guard shape. He tilted his head, and I wondered which question he would ask first. “If I may ask… why did you choose those forms to use while in Asgard?”

“They were very carefully designed,” I said, pleased by his decision. “We wanted to emphasize our willingness to abide by the terms that were set at the end of the war, to never pretend to being Aesir. Our appearances were intentionally not set to look like any other particular known species, while also looking quite different from each other. At the same time, we decided to use the basic Aesir body shape and proportions, to put your—Aesir more at ease with us.”

He caught the hesitation as I rephrased, and looked away over the side of the barge for a moment. “How many others know, do you think?” he asked. I recognized the change of subject.

“Very few, I would guess. Your parents, of course, and likely Heimdall. Very few species are as constantly aware of the aether as we are, without effort or assistance. Even powerful, practiced Aesir mages wouldn’t bother keeping up the energy and attention to stay aware of it all the time, especially not in the capital, where they would expect Gungnir and its security web to protect them from possible dangers.”

“I can’t help feeling that I’ve been played for a fool my entire life.” Loki shook his head and glanced at me, then looked back to the horizon. “Odin said he wanted to protect me from the truth. I don’t know how they were expecting me to react when they finally told me, after centuries of lies.”

“We didn’t say anything because we thought there was some political or diplomatic reason it was being kept secret. We never suspected that you didn’t know. If we had known that they were keeping you ignorant, we would have told you.” I paused, then shook my head. “I would have told you, and to the void with the consequences. I’m sure they thought they had perfectly good reasons for doing it, but they were wrong.”

He glanced at me sidelong. “It’s nice of you to say so, but…”

“No,” I said, the words coming out in a snarl. “They’re not shapeshifters, so some of it can be attributed to ignorance, but given that they have access to vast stores of information, it’s—” I took a breath, trying to calm myself. “Pattern-locking a person into the form of a species other than their own as a child is almost a guarantee of emotional instability, at the very least. Not telling you, depriving you of the information and access to answers that you needed, was a reckless and needless endangerment of your well-being. Among my people, deliberately withholding that knowledge from you would be considered gross negligence, at its mildest.”

I realized he was staring at me, and that I’d unconsciously shifted my fingers into claws, gripping and piercing the cushioned armrests. I very carefully shifted them back and folded my hands in my lap. “They didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to feel different—but you were different, you are different, and you’ve always known it on some level. Pretending that would go away just by not thinking about it was utter foolishness. It was less that they wanted to protect you, and more that they wanted to protect themselves from having to deal with the consequences of a decision that they’d made.”

Loki let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. “I don’t want to… hate them,” he said. “But I don’t know how else to feel. Did you know that I was Laufey’s son?”

“Laufey?” I said, blinking. “The king of Jotunheim? We wondered if you were given to Odin as a hostage—”

“I wasn’t given,” he said bitterly. “Father—Odin—said that he found me in a temple, abandoned, and that he took me with some notion of an alliance someday.”

“If he found you abandoned, how did he know you were Laufey’s son?” I asked. Loki looked surprised, but I continued before he could respond. “And… he found you in a temple… hmm.” I realized I was clawing at the armrest again and sighed.

“Never mind that,” Loki said. “What’s important about the temple?”

“Jotun shapeshifters are rare,” I said, dredging up memories from early lessons about Jotunheim’s society. “It might have changed since the war, but Frost Giants used to believe that natural shapeshifters were gifts of fate. They were usually given to the priests to be raised and trained in secret, then sent to cause trouble for their enemies from within.”

“Just another stolen relic.” Loki sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Odin would have known that when he found me, wouldn’t he?”

“He would have heard stories about it, if nothing else,” I said. “Regardless of your parentage, he would have wanted to prevent you from being used against Asgard later in your life.” I stopped short of pointing out that Loki was fortunate Odin hadn’t taken the alternative of simply killing him. I wanted very badly to spare Loki the pain this conversation was obviously causing him, but I knew that he’d had more than enough of being “protected” from the truth.

We rode in silence for a while. Loki stared off into the distance, rubbing a finger across his mouth, while I attempted to repair the damage I’d done to the barge’s cushions. “I wonder why he thinks I’m Laufey’s son,” he said eventually. “It could just be wishful thinking, unwilling to consider anything less in order to accept me as an adopted child.”

“He might have read it in your runes,” I said. Loki gave me a questioning look, and I shook my head. “I don’t know much about it, other than that Jotun inherit patterns of runes on their bodies—like skin patterns, or eye colors on other species. There’s legends that the Frost Giants can read an infant’s future in the runes on their bodies, but we don’t know if there’s any truth behind it. I haven’t studied it, and I haven’t met enough Jotun to know the difference by sight, but Odin might have recognized your markings before you were changed to look like an Aesir.”

“Inherited rune markings?” Loki laughed harshly. “There’s another question—now that I’m heir to the throne, what are they going to do when it’s time for me to take a wife and make heirs of my own?”

I turned away, startled and confused by a sudden pain in my chest as the thought flashed through my mind that there was absolutely no way the king of Asgard could justify having a dragon as a mate. I had to bite down a surge of anger at myself for the fantasies—I couldn’t even call them hopes—that I’d been allowing myself to cultivate without realizing it. “You’d have to protect against pattern flux, but that’s not difficult, once you know what to do,” I said, grabbing at a change of subject.

“Pattern flux?”

I shoved my turmoil aside and turned to look at him, carefully arranging my aura into a semblance of calm. “It’s a possible problem when shifters have children,” I said. I couldn’t see anything in Loki’s aura to indicate that he’d noticed my agitation, but then it had been in constant agitation since Svartalfheim.

“If the child has the potential to be a shapeshifter, it’s vital that the parents stay in a fixed form for some time before and during gestation and for a while after birth,” I continued. “The child needs to imprint into a stable shape until zie can control zir shifting. Shifter energy can manifest in other ways with offspring that don’t inherit the shifter trait, leading to… variable results.”

“That sounds ominous,” Loki said.

“It can be alarming to parents who don’t know what to expect, but we’ve had hundreds of generations to find solutions for anything that might be actually dangerous, and of course we would make that expertise available to you.” I hoped my smile was appropriately bland.

He seemed to search my face for a few moments, then looked away. “Well, I expect that won’t be a problem for a while yet,” he said, his tone casual. “And for now, it’s time to land. We’ll need to cross the bridge to Alfheim on foot.”

The barge descended into a clearing in a dense, tangled forest on the side of Asgard’s central mountain. “The Svartald,” I said, looking up at the dark trunks of huge trees that towered on all sides.

“It’s said that this forest rises from the roots of Yggdrasil itself.” Loki stepped out of the barge, then paused and raised his hand to me. I blinked for a moment before I understood the gesture, then gripped his hand for balance as I disembarked. He leaned back into the craft and set something on the controls. The barge rose up into the branches of the trees, where it nestled like a strange bird, still concealed under Loki’s spell.

“Of course, the Yggdrasil is a construct of aetheric bridges that connect the places we call the Nine Realms,” he said, leading me into the forest. “It’s a name for a convenience, not a real thing, much less an actual tree. But for whatever reason, there are passages to each of the Nine Realms in this forest, as well as several others. Even I don’t know where all the paths go—and they change over time, too.”

“We keep careful track of the connections in our realm,” I said thoughtfully as we picked our way through the gloom. “Some of our people make a hobby of it, but the information is considered strategically valuable. It’s not feasible to move large forces across the paths, but a small group, or even a single individual, could cause a lot of trouble.”

“The roots of Yggdrasil are considered unfashionable in Asgard these days.” Loki walked along a fallen trunk, glancing back at me with a smirk. “There’s wards up around the forest itself, and of course there’s always Heimdall and Gungnir’s security system, so people think it’s secure, if they think about it at all.”

I shivered as the pattern of aetheric threads all around us shifted, following the tide of immense cosmic forces. Like crossing a high bridge in a windstorm, walking the paths was always at least a little bit dangerous. No matter how well-established the connection, there was the chance that a surge or sudden change in energy could break the fragile thread between worlds, snapping us back to one end or the other—or stranding us somewhere far from any realms we knew. The patterns of the threads that we walked through were charged with power, heady and disorienting to my aetheric senses, a silent storm of information that I couldn’t control or even hope to understand.

“Of course, when I’m king, I might set up regular patrols, make people take an interest again.” I could see Loki walking right ahead of me, but his laugh seemed to be echoing distantly down a long tunnel, trees and branches shifting around us. “But what would be the fun of that? I think I’d rather keep these paths my secret.” He paused, turning to look back at me, and for a second as I stepped up beside him the shadows gave his face the strange illusion of a wolf’s muzzle grinning at me. I blinked as wind tossed the branches high above and splashed us in bright sunlight, revealing a clearing in the forest blanketed in lush meadow grasses and flowers.

Chapter Text

I shifted into my native form as we walked out of the forest, spreading my wings slightly to enjoy the warm morning sun. “Do you think it’s secure enough for us to stay here, right at the end of the trail?” I asked.

“Nobody else has ever used this path that I’m aware of, from either end,” Loki said, making his way towards a heavily weathered standing stone in the middle of the clearing. “And this is a long way away from the nearest settlement in Alfheim. It’s as isolated a spot as we’re likely to find anywhere.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” I stretched out and lay down half-coiled in the grass, watching as he anchored the shroud that kept us hidden from Heimdall’s sight to the stone, which although long abandoned still had plenty of energy stored to maintain the pattern. When he’d spread the veil across the clearing, he turned back to me.

“All right, now what?” he asked.

“Now you take your clothes off.” I grinned at him, wings fluttering a bit with amusement.

“I… what?” he said, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“For one, we don’t want to risk you accidentally mixing the pattern of your body with your clothing while you’re learning to shift,” I replied. “Dealing with clothing while shapeshifting takes practice, and I suspect you don’t want your first experience with shifting to include trying to separate foreign material from your skin.”

“If that’s as unpleasant as it sounds, probably not,” he agreed. He cast a simple pattern that began unlacing the bracers on his arms.

“Also, until you’ve learned to control your shifting, there’s the possibility that you’ll accidentally shred anything you’re wearing. And unless you brought a spare change of clothes along, that might be hard to explain to Heimdall when we return—or your mother.”

“All right, you’ve convinced me,” he said, grimacing slightly as he pulled his bracers off and tossed them on the ground.

For a few seconds I wondered why it was taking him so long to remove clothing that he was presumably quite familiar with, before remembering the complex Aesir social taboos about nudity. I stood up and spent a while pacing slowly around the perimeter of the clearing, familiarizing myself with the aetheric patterns of the area and checking for surprises. It wasn’t necessary, but it did seem to help Loki in disrobing more efficiently. I hoped there’d be an opportunity for me to fly at least a little while in the warm, gentle air of Alfheim before I had to return to my Aesir shape.

“Is this sufficient?” Loki said, facing me with his hands on his slender hips, with an amused and slightly defiant expression. “I do hope this wasn’t just an excuse to get me to take my clothes off.”

“Certainly not,” I replied, returning to the center of the clearing and trying not to let my wings twitch too much. “Well… not entirely. Now,” I continued before he could reply, “I need you to lie down.”

A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but he flopped down readily enough, lying on his back. I paused, momentarily struck by the degree of courage it must have taken to show me so much vulnerability. Then I leaned forward, carefully examining his aura.

“Can you see aetheric currents?” I asked, claws twitching as I traced the lines and patterns of color.

“If I concentrate, but it isn’t easy,” he said.

I shook my head. “I’d have liked to show you what I needed to do and see if you could help, but I’m confident I can do it on my own. Please try to relax,” I added, frowning at a knot of orange-red tension.

“I apologize, but I’m sure you can understand why that might be a little difficult at the moment,” he replied. The sarcasm seemed to help calm him down, though. I hummed quietly as I continued mapping his aura, flexing my hind claws into the soft turf. Loki’s breathing relaxed and deepened, and he even seemed to be dozing a little on the sun-warmed grass.

Then I found the lock. I paused and looked down at him. “This is going to feel—strange. Probably uncomfortable.” I didn’t give him time to react before reaching in and tugging on the lock. I needed to know how strong it was, and how much of his pattern was tangled up in it. I winced as his muscles tensed and he gritted his teeth, then let it subside back into its accustomed place and curled a tendril of my own aura around it to investigate more closely.

“Odin didn’t weave this lock,” I said slowly, tracing the neat, simple knots of the small pattern.

“He had to have.” The Jotun frowned. “Who else could have done it?”

I didn’t want to tell him, knowing how hard it would be for him to hear, but comforting lies were the root of this whole mess. As I hesitated he gripped my forearm where it rested beside him. “It… she couldn’t have,” he said, his voice wavering. “She wouldn’t.”

“There’s only one other person who could have known, and who had the skill to do this.”

His hand dropped away, then covered his eyes. “Mother… Frigga.”

“She did it to help you,” I said, examining the lock again. “At least, she did it with concern for your well-being. I can see it, traced all through the pattern.”

Loki’s hand dropped away from his face, and he shook his head. “I will discuss it with her later. At least now I can be confident that she will tell me the truth.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“All right. I’m pretty sure I can unweave it all at once.” I settled myself on my haunches, crouching over him, then paused. “This is… probably going to hurt.”

His expression was perfectly calm as he looked up at me. “Important things often do. I was expecting it. Go ahead.”

I nodded, then reached into his aura with my claws, drawing it up into the air a little removed from his body. I didn’t need a lattice this time, as the task was relatively minor, compared to breaking the geas on Ragnar. I poked two clawtips into the knotted bundle of aetheric strands I’d identified as the pattern lock, and began to unravel it.

With my attention focused on my task, I was only vaguely aware of Loki’s reactions. I knew that pulling his aura up and away from his physical form would give him some detachment from the process, the closest I could give him to an anesthetic under the circumstances. Still, over the centuries the lock had become absorbed into some of the core parts of his pattern, and there was no way to avoid a certain amount of tugging, although as I worked I grew more confident that I would be able to unweave and remove the lock without actually severing any of his own threads.

Finally, after one last twist and pull, the pattern began to unravel on its own. I watched carefully as it slipped free of Loki’s aura, releasing his ability to shapeshift, before teasing it out and letting it dissolve into the background aetheric fields of Alfheim. As I relaxed my hold on his aura, it drifted back down to settle across his body.

“Did it work?” Loki was still lying prone on the ground, his eyes closed.

I looked down at him and blinked, then nodded. “Yes… I’d say it definitely did,” I said.

He opened eyes almost the same shade of crimson as my scales and grinned at me. “I feel—fantastic. Light, but strong and full. I feel like my skin never really fit before.” He sat up, wobbling a little, then raised his hands and looked at them, examining their rich, cobalt hue. “It’s all true,” he whispered. I created a reflective patch of air before him, and he peered at his face, tracing the raised patterns of runes that were etched into his skin all across his body. “I knew, but this is more than knowing… this is truth, down to my bones.”

I did my best to smile at him, but there was an edge of sadness and anger in me that I couldn’t completely hide. Loki didn’t notice, instead trying to stand up. I held out a forearm to steady him as he staggered to his feet.

“So now I can change into other things, yes?” he said, delight in his voice. “I could be—like you?”

“You could, but a dragon’s form is rather complicated,” I said with amusement. “Holding a form that isn’t the one you were born with takes practice,” I continued, reciting lessons I’d been given as a hatchling. “You’ll instinctively blend in with the people around you that are closest to your birth-shape—you probably changed your skin to that of an Aesir spontaneously when Odin first… found you, and you’ll do it again when we return to Asgard without having to think about it. But the more different a shape is from yours, the harder it is to make the pieces fit, and the more concentration it takes to hold.”

“Hmm…” He closed his eyes, and his form rippled, blue skin changing to a golden tan, as muscles bulged out. When he opened his eyes again, they were the clear blue of the sky above. He looked at himself in the reflective pane and grinned. “Hello, Thor,” he said, turning his head back and forth. “I even sound like him—though far more clever, of course.”

“You sound like him because you’re copying his aetheric pattern, one that you’re very familiar with,” I said. “If you stayed in that form long enough, you’d probably gain some of his powers—and start thinking like him, too.”

“I’ve used illusions to make myself look like other things, but this feels completely different.” Loki pulled at his beard and stuck out his tongue, examining it in the reflection. I planted the elbows of my forearms in the turf and propped my chin on my hands, content to enjoy watching as he discovered his innate abilities.

“Forms that I’m familiar with,” he said musingly, and then rippled again. The changes in his body were more dramatic this time, and a flush crept across his face as he looked down at himself. “This feels distinctly odd,” he said, peering at Sif’s face in the mirror. “Things feel different—inside.”

“Different enough that you could be impregnated by the species whose shape you’re wearing,” I said. I knew Loki couldn’t understand the smirk in the angle of my head and ruff, but he could certainly hear it in my voice, and the blush spread further down Sif’s chest. “You’re close enough to an Aesir that the offspring probably wouldn’t be too different, but there’s usually odd effects from shapeshifters crossbreeding. The effects get stranger the farther from your birth shape you breed.”

“I have no intention of breeding, in this form or any other, for at least several centuries,” Loki replied. His tone was casual, but his body rippled back into his native blue form as his concentration slipped.

I stretched my wings and huffed. “I want to fly. Would you like to try? I can help.”

“Help me—to fly?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“It won’t be too risky if we don’t go very high,” I replied. “I can shift into a simple flying form, so you can copy the pattern. I’ll help with that, too.”

“I could fly?” he said, sounding slightly dazed, then nodded vigorously. “Yes! Yes, please.”

I transformed into the fast flying pattern I’d had grafted, doing it fairly slowly so Loki could see what was happening. In a few moments I was a snake, half of my length reared up and wings unfolded behind me.

Loki looked at me doubtfully. “And how do I…”

“First, you’ll need to look at my aetheric pattern,” I said.

He nodded and closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again. I could see the shift in his own aura as he opened his awareness to the aether, and I helpfully highlighted the important parts of my travel pattern.

“Now—start here,” I said, making a part of the pattern glow. “Find that shape within yourself, and change it to resemble this.”

I watched as his brow furrowed, bunching up the patterns of runes in the blue skin of his forehead, and strands and shapes of his own aetheric pattern began lighting up. “Here… this one,” I said, reaching out a tendril of aether and guiding his attention to the relevant area. He nodded, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes again. Slowly, the shape I’d pointed out shifted.

“That was the hard part. The rest of the pattern will follow much more easily.” Sure enough, his body was already changing, legs fusing to become a sinuous tail and arms reaching out behind, sprouting webbed membranes between elongated fingers. He opened his eyes, which still glowed with the same red hue, and examined himself in the reflective patch. His body was covered with blue scales, the color of his native skin.

Loki opened his mouth and made an odd hissing screech. I could tell that he was startled and alarmed, body language familiar to me from the species whose shape I had simulated. “I’m sorry—I forgot, since you copied the pattern from me, you’ve got a dragon tongue now.” I stuck my tongue out to demonstrate, and he did the same, going a bit cross-eyed as he tried to look down at its dark blue length. “It’s what we use to speak in any form that breathes air. I’ll have to teach you how to use it, at least a little.” I watched him wriggle with frustration at his inability to make a comment in reply, and grinned.

“I’m going to change back to my native shape,” I said, and did so before he could blink. “This way I can fly, and catch and carry you if I need to. Also, I’ll create lift around you—the form you’re wearing is very buoyant in air, but you’ll need to be concentrating on holding the pattern and working unfamiliar wings at the same time, so fewer distractions will make everything easier. Now, do as I do.”

I spread my wings and watched as he did the same, mimicking my movements. I reared up on my hind legs, and after a hesitation he stretched up on his tail. I gave a single flap, cheating a bit with some air lift of my own, and was airborne. I watched, hovering, as he flapped and then squeaked, his serpentine form nearly shooting up into the sky. I laughed, manipulating the air around him as his wingbeats gained confidence, and lifted both of us a bit further. Soon we were forty feet above the turf, and Loki was zipping rings around my body almost faster than I could follow, his aura blazing with joy.

We flew in large circles over the forest around the clearing, at a fairly slow pace. Loki made it obvious that he didn’t want to go further away, and I took his direction, content to follow him as he soared and twirled, luxuriating in the opportunity to stretch my own wings. He tired quickly, though, and almost as soon as we’d landed on the springy turf he switched back to his Jotun form, then immediately fell over, laughing as he sprawled on the grass, his shoulder-length mane of curly black hair artlessly fluffed. “I forgot how my legs worked!” he said, rolling over to grin at me.

“How did you like that?” I said, stretching out alongside him.

“Ever since Thor learned how to fly with that stupid hammer, I envied him for it,” Loki said, sitting up and smiling widely. “When I was younger, I was far more jealous of that than his succession to the throne. Now—I imagine how it must feel to be dragged along by the thing, having to cling to the handle or risk falling, while I can simply grow wings and fly.”

“He will probably never experience what you just have,” I said, nodding. “And there’s more, when you learn to hold your pattern more securely, or get one grafted. Oceans to explore, the silent darkness above the clouds, even swimming through molten rock.”

The light in his eyes dimmed somewhat and the bright colors in his aetheric pattern darkened. “I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me,” he said. Before I could demur that I would have done it to free any trapped fellow shapeshifter, he put his hand on my forearm, looking at me intently. “I mean it. This is the first time since I learned I was a—a Frost Giant, that I haven’t resented the fact. I tried to be angry with you for telling me, but I’ve always known I was different. And now, by removing that block inside me, you’ve given me…” He stopped, seeming at a loss for words, but when I started to speak he put one hand gently on my muzzle.

“I do not have it in my power to repay you, but there is one thing, one valuable thing, I can give you in return.” A strange pattern began to form in his aura, knotting across his chest. “I can give you truth.”

I tilted my head to one side and looked down at him, the draconic equivalent of a raised eyebrow, but kept my silence.

Loki took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around his legs, as the new pattern in his aura grew and spread. “I’ve built myself around lies and secrets, and I didn’t even know that I myself was the greatest secret, the greatest lie, of them all. I would tell you that you could ask me anything and I will give you truth, but I have been careful, and I’m not sure you would know what to ask.” He looked away from me, though he held his chin up. “I knew about the attack on Aizerue before it happened, and I guessed who was behind it—but I had no idea they had a Spellbreaker.”

I nodded slowly. It was one of the possibilities we’d discussed, so it wasn’t entirely a surprise, but it still hurt.

“I could have stopped it.” Now he looked at me, and I could see the pain in his expression. “I allowed it to happen, but made sure to be close when it did, so that I could leap in to rescue you. I wanted you to—trust me.” He almost snarled the words, then scrubbed his face with both hands. “Odin told me before your group arrived that I was to ingratiate myself to your people and try to discover your secrets, see if I could learn your magic, anything that might give us an advantage in the negotiations. At first, I picked you because you happened to be the one facing me that first day, in the throne room. But… I got to know you, and it became increasingly difficult to remain indifferent.”

His half-smile looked twisted, as if he were mocking himself. “And then everything went completely out of my control. Thor’s attack and banishment, what happened on Svartalfheim—it’s all been happening too fast. I truly thought that I could direct events to our, my own, favor, but Tyr and his allies have been a step ahead the whole time.”

I stared at him, at his aura, looking for the telltale golden flicker of a lie, but instead there was only the strange, growing pattern. It was wrapped around him now, slowly brightening, sprouting fine green tendrils as it integrated with his aetheric form.

“There is one more thing,” he said. “I was not able to prevent myself from—to maintain detachment.” He shook his head, looking frustrated. “Damn, why is this so hard to say?” The new pattern flared and merged with his own as he raised his chin, looking more imperiously regal than I had ever seen him. “I have—Sigynazor, I think I have fallen in love with you.”

Chapter Text

My head jerked back. I had to restrain myself from jumping to my feet, though I didn’t know if my impulse was to flee or fight, or something else entirely. There still was no trace of gold threads in his aura, but the green tendrils had reappeared and were twining towards me. “You’re not lying,” I blurted.

“No… for once in my life, I’m not.” His expression was sad, but peaceful. “I apologize if I have made things awkward between us, and do not blame you at all if you despise me. I will say no more—”

I lunged at him. He raised his hands, but by the time I made contact with him I was in my Aesir-like guard form, knocking him onto his back on the grass with my arms wrapped around him. Pushing his hands aside with my head, I mashed my mouth on his, remembering that as a traditional Aesir pair-bonding practice.

Loki held my face up, grinning. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated, but a little painful,” he said. “You taught me to fly. I’ll teach you to kiss.”

“Yes,” I agreed breathlessly. He rolled us both onto our sides and helped me arrange my arms to be minimally uncomfortable. Then he cupped his hands around my face again and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine with sweet, deliberate slowness.

I’d play-mated with others of my own kind before, though I hadn’t traveled enough to have any experience with other sentient species. At firs I was afraid that I would burst out laughing, but that urge faded quickly as the kiss went on. Some things were very familiar—the tightness in my abdomen, the light-headed rushing of blood—but others were almost absurdly strange. I was very glad that this guard shape had been grafted on, since I felt sure I wouldn’t have been able to maintain the form under my own concentration. Every movement of his lips made my skin prickle, until I felt covered in sparks.

I felt him nibble at my lower lip, then a flicker of his tongue. Since I was following his lead, I opened my own mouth, though the idea of touching tongues seemed mildly disgusting. When his tongue slid alongside mine, I stiffened up and gasped, then wrenched my head away, panting.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“I just… didn’t… that, I never…” I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing evenly, my heart racing. When I looked up again, Loki was watching me with concern. “I honestly did not know that my tongue was so sensitive. It never occurred to me to have anyone—play with it before.”

He smirked at me. “There’s a reason tongue-kissing is popular among Aesir.”

“I suspect it’s a bit more than that,” I said. “I don’t have an Aesir tongue, I have a dragon’s tongue. It’s—probably about as sensitive as this.” I brushed my fingers along his erect penis that had been poking me in the stomach. Now it was his turn to tense his muscles and inhale sharply, his eyes widening.

“Ah… I see,” he said, catching his breath. “Does that mean you would rather not do that, or that you’d like to do more of it?”

In answer, I leaned forward and kissed him, licking at his lip. He opened his mouth, and for a while I was beyond distracted, completely lost in stimulation, my entire body shuddering against his. I felt like my nerves were full of lightning, with sensation heightened beyond anything I’d experienced in this form. The intensity increased until it reached a plateau far past the point where I was capable of coherent thought. By then I was sensitive enough that I could actually feel his aura wrapped around me, the soft stroking of green tendrils against my skin.

Eventually I realized that I was lying on my back and he was half-lying on my chest, watching me with an amused expression. I had no idea when he’d stopped kissing me, but it took a while before I could open my eyes and see anything but vibrant swirls of color, and for my body to stop twitching.

“Now I know how to completely incapacitate your people,” he said, red eyes shining. “When Asgard invades your home, our warriors will kiss yours into submission!”

“I think I know a technique that may be an adequate counter for that,” I said, wrapping my legs around his. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied as I wriggled his body on top of mine. “I was charged to learn as much as possible about your…” His words trailed off into an inarticulate groan as I tilted my hips, letting his shaft slide into my vent. I’d already retracted my own phallus into its internal pouch, so that only the tip was left exposed to rub very pleasantly along the top of his. He nuzzled into my neck, breathing heavily as he began thrusting inside me. I tried to purr, but the Aesir body didn’t have a larynx for it, so I ended up producing a long, rumbling moan that intensified as Loki lifted his head and kissed me.

He leaned away until he was almost sitting up, his movements slowing. “Say my name,” he said, staring intently into my eyes.

“Loki,” I whispered, staring back as my breath hitched.

He lowered his head and kissed me again. The tension in his aura surrounded me as I dug my fingers into the small of his back. Breaking away from the kiss again, he nuzzled the side of my head. “Say my name,” he growled again.

“Loki!” I gasped. I wrapped my legs behind his hips as he knelt on the turf, squirming under the cascade of sensation, physical and aetheric. I could feel the tightness in his belly as if it were my own.

Shapeshifter mating is always intense, due to the pattern resonance, but this had become something else entirely. Some barrier in him was cracking, and underneath it was an almost desperate hunger, a lifelong craving that I could see the shape of, but didn’t entirely understand. “Say my name!” he demanded, then sank his teeth into my throat.

“Loki, Loki, yes, Loki, love you, Loki, stars, yes,” I said, the words underscored by the almost violent storm of emotions that was welling up around me. He folded his arms around me, climaxing as I chanted his name, and as his control slipped I could feel the depth of his need, to be recognized, to be respected and admired for who and what he was. Centuries of standing in his brother’s shadow, his gifts and talents denigrated by a society that had turned away from the aetheric arts, standing near the top of that shining civilization where none could touch him while always feeling subtly different, excluded, wrong. He’d built an enclave of admirers, but even while they praised and adored him they still considered him an outsider, and he couldn’t help despising them for it. Wrapped in layers of illusions, schemes, and arrogance, more than anything else, he wanted to be seen, to be known, to be understood… to belong.

I realized that I could pour my entire self into that void if I wasn’t careful, and yet never fill it. His need was ragged around the edges, with fragile walls built to keep it contained but always threatening to collapse into despair, possibly even madness. It was a knot in his soul that would take much more time to unweave than could be done in a single afternoon.

There was a gentle sensation of falling as I became aware of my surroundings again. Loki was sprawled across my body, his eyes closed and breathing regular. I nuzzled the top of his head and gently wiped a trace of wetness across his cheek with my thumb. He stirred, rolling off me and onto his side, then stretched with a casual sensuousness worthy of any dragon. “What… was that?” he said, his voice slow and sleepy.

Still lying on my back, I snickered as I raised a hand and sketched a quick pattern in the air, a practiced spell that cleansed both our bodies as if we’d just emerged from a warm bath. “I should think it was generally apparent, even if somewhat different in the specifics,” I said dryly.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he gave me an expression somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. “Several members of the New Constellation have latched onto the libertine lifestyle, and some of their private parties—well. I think it’s safe to say that there isn’t much I haven’t at least tried, between consenting adult Aesir of various genders and combinations.”

I nodded. “I believe my background is similar, for Niddroghn rather than Aesir, of course.”

“So then, can you explain what that was so much—more…” He waved his hand vaguely. “Intense?”

“Oh!” I felt myself blushing a bit, and rubbed my face in an effort to cover it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize… or think to tell you. It’s pattern resonance. Because we’re both shape-shifters.”

“It certainly wasn’t a bad surprise,” he said, his smirk widening. “But I don’t understand what that has to do with anything.”

I blew out a sigh and looked up at him with a half-smile. “The explanation is long, complex, and on the technical side.”

“Perhaps later, then,” he said, stifling a yawn.

I mumbled something incoherent in agreement, shuffling into a more comfortable position as he draped himself across and alongside my body, and let myself relax in the warm afternoon sunlight.

When I opened my eyes again, the shadow of the standing stone was stretched nearly to the treeline around the clearing, and one of my arms was tingling. I pulled it out from under him and flexed it gingerly as he blinked and raised his head. “Time to go?” he murmured, stretching lazily.

“Almost… now I have some things I need to tell you.”

He was alert in an instant, his red eyes glowing as the darkness gathered around us. “Very well,” he said, and I could see him bracing himself as I had done before.

“First—and you’ve probably guessed this already—I was given an assignment, just as you were, to gather information.” I half-smiled at him. “I wasn’t expecting you, none of us did, but I had been given instructions and training to blend in and learn as much as possible from the Aesir. When you approached me, I was given permission to… pursue you.”

Loki nodded. “We’re even on that score,” he replied.

“Second, I wanted to let you know that I forgive you.”

Now he smiled, and I smiled back. “And third…” I paused, feeling reluctance like a wall of force that I had to push my way through. “I—I also, I love you.” Once the words were out, I understood what Aizerue had meant when e said that I would know it when I felt it.

He tilted his head. “You mean that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, suddenly desperate to spill the words out. “We suspected you might have known about the ambush, or even been involved in planning it, and I was warned not to let myself get too involved, but I couldn’t stop. No—I didn’t want to. I could have changed my pattern to distance myself from you, but I kept hesitating, up until we realized that you hadn’t been told about your heritage.”

He touched my lips with one cobalt finger and shook his head slightly. “You do not need to convince me,” he said. “I believe you. I just—my entire world has come unmoored, and… trust was never easy for me to begin with. I’m… afraid.” I could see how hard it was for him to admit it.

I released him and rolled onto my back, then reached into the aether and began weaving a simple pattern. Loki raised himself on his elbow again and watched curiously. In a few seconds it was done, and I held it out to him. “I offer you this freely,” I said. “Wear this, and you will instantly know if I lie, to you or to anyone.” He looked at me, clearly reluctant. I took his hand and placed the aetheric pattern in his palm. “I suppose there’s a fourth thing I should tell you,” I said, feeling my face heat with another blush. “I know when you’re lying. I’ve learned to see it in your aura.”

I’m not sure what response I had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for him to burst out laughing. “Really? When did you learn that?” he said, his aura sparkling with amusement.

“I first saw it clearly when you—asked my gender,” I said, “but I didn’t confirm what it meant until later.”

“My best defense, my keenest weapon, and you saw right through it.” He held the glowing pattern in his hand, still smiling. “I’ve been naked to you all along, haven’t I?” I started to protest, but he shook his head. “It’s all right. You’ve given me so much truth… it’s only fair.” He looked at the pattern for a minute, then up at me. “Um—I’m not sure how to…”

I snorted, then sat up and showed him how to weave the knots into his aetheric pattern. “We grow up being able to see auras,” I explained as I worked. “I can lie or hide my emotions without it showing aetherically, but this is a direct connection. I can’t conceal… anything through it.”

“Just as I can’t hide anything from you,” he said. He stood up a little unsteadily and tottered over to his neatly folded pile of clothing.

I shifted to my native form as I watched him dress. “I can teach you how to see auras easily, and how to manipulate yours. It’s linked to shapeshifting, so I suspect you’ll pick it up quickly.”

“I doubt we’ll have much time for that,” he said. He cast a small pattern on the palms of both hands and then ran them over his hair, slicking it back into its usual perfectly sleek style, though I was a little disappointed to see the curls disappear. “Even once this business with Tyr is settled, there’s still the negotiations, and then… if Odin doesn’t recover, I will be—busy, for some time. Although I can certainly come visit you once we have a proper treaty, if I’m allowed, or you could visit me.”

“I’d hoped… I don’t know how, if, it could work with you being the heir to the throne of Asgard, but… I’d hoped to bring you to my home.”

His head snapped up. “To Nastrond?”

I twitched my wings, knowing that he could feel my hesitation through the pattern I’d just given him, then sat up on my haunches. “I’m going to tell you—our greatest secret,” I said, looking at him intently. “This is the big one, Loki. With this information, Asgard could destroy us.”

Loki stepped forward, extending his hands, and I took them gently in my foreclaws. “I will not betray your trust,” he said. The pattern I’d seen earlier flashed again, suffusing his aura. “Whatever happens, I will take this knowledge to my grave, sealed to silence. This I swear.”

I leaned down and nuzzled his forehead, closing my eyes and sighing quietly. “I believe you.” Leaning back, I released his hands and cupped my claws, drawing up a sphere of light that illuminated the open field around us.

“Nastrond, Helheim, is not our home,” I said. An image of the dark, blighted swamplands of Nastrond appeared, filled with swirling mists and twisted trees. Vague shadows of lumpy, misshapen buildings squatted in the distance. “It’s the duty of each of us to spend some time living there, to maintain the illusion that it is the entirety of our world, but we don’t like it much. However, it does make an excellent barrier, protecting the hidden gateway to Nidheim.”

The image changed to one of my favorite memories, gliding across the thermals high in the Valley of Prisms. Waterfalls on every side of the enormous canyon glistened in the sun, and with a little aetheric assistance shone rainbows in sweeping rings and crescents everywhere one looked. Lush foliage lined the mighty river that took up almost the entire floor of the ravine, climbing the cliffs on all sides in a riot of wild greenery. The scene followed my path as I ascended the vast cataract at the valley’s end and rose above the surface of a deep blue lake surrounded by hills.

“This is our capital,” I said, as the image zoomed towards the island in the middle of the lake. There was a single large structure on the island, an open amphitheater surmounted by a ring of pillars supporting a series of open arches, with circular tiers of white stone that blazed in the sunlight, but did not blind.

And everywhere, there were dragons. Perching or lying on the tiers of the amphitheater and along the stone arches, flying at various heights, playing in the water on the island’s shore, and more. Bright scales of every color echoed the rainbows in the valley below.

The scene in my memory swooped down to land on a high tier of the building. “It is called the Caldera,” I said. “This is where our government is conducted. There are a few members of other species, representing various sentient species that we share territory with, but most of the people you see that don’t look like dragons are shapeshifted Niddroghn.”

“It’s… beautiful,” Loki breathed, his voice awed. “As magnificent as Asgard, or more. This is your home?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “I’m from another area, Heartwood, a forest of giant trees. I can show it to you—the nesting grounds where I was hatched, the city of living wood—and more.” I ended the image and looked into the embers of his eyes glowing in the darkness. “Come home with me. There is so much to show you, so much to teach you about your abilities, about the aether.” I stopped as I realized that I was almost pleading with him.

“Would they let me in?” Loki asked, sounding uncertain.

“If you come with me, I will gladly stake my life for your entrance.”

“Your life?” He leaned away, frowning slightly, and I felt that I was coming close to making a wreck of the whole idea before it was properly launched.

“Everyone who is brought in from outside must have a native willing to vouch for them,” I explained. “The native is responsible for the outsider’s behavior, and for them keeping the secret. What I’ve already told you could cost my life if you used it to attack us.”

“You trust me… that much,” he said, reaching up to stroke the side of my muzzle. I could see tears gathering under his glowing eyes. “After everything you’ve given me, and knowing what I’ve done, you would give me this as well. My own… family, didn’t…” His voice choked and I folded him in my forearms, wings angled forward to mantle around us, as he sobbed brokenly.

I wanted to soothe him, make promises, anything to tell him how much I cared for him, but I couldn’t make the words come. Still, I felt his aura curling around me, green tendrils that gently caressed me. “I know,” he said into my shoulder. “Sigyn… how could I not love you?”

I realized that I didn’t need words to express myself. My purr rumbled through the clear night air as I nuzzled his head.

Chapter Text

I knew that we had crossed fully back into Asgard when a pair of aetheric tracers came darting straight to us through the forest. One flashed into Loki’s hand, the other into mine. I recognized Scathsa’s energy on the pattern as I absorbed the information. Before I was done, Loki had whistled for the barge, and we were both climbing in. He set a course directly back to the palace at the barge’s highest speed.

“The ansible, and Thor?” I said.

“Mine didn’t specifically mention Thor, but I made the connection,” he replied. “Mother sounded concerned, but not—overly concerned, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” I said. “It seemed urgent, but not an emergency, from what Scathsa sent me.”

I wasn’t sure if the patches of blue blooming in his aura represented worried tension, but I knew he was aware of my own agitation. After a few minutes of silence he reached over and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. I have to admit that the contact comforted me for the remainder of the trip.

Loki dropped his shroud of invisibility as we neared the palace, and immediately another aetheric message found him. “The negotiation chamber,” he said, preparing to park the barge.

“You’re still blue,” I responded, wrapping myself in my own veil of invisibility. He blinked at me, then quickly created an illusion to cover his skin and eyes as he readjusted to being in the company of Aesir.

By the time we arrived at the hall set aside for the negotiations, his coloration had returned to the semblance of an Aesir and he dispelled his illusion as we entered. I walked to the phantom image of myself, which was dispersed as soon as I took up my position standing against the wall of the room and removed my own invisibility. None of the guards or other Aesir present so much as twitched, but Frigga glanced at me for a moment from where she sat at the head of the table. Heimdall, who I hadn’t noticed on entering, gave me a long, steady look, then turned to inspect Loki. I could almost see his shrug as he looked away.

The Queen nodded to Jari, who was standing next to Scathsa. The Aesir took a step forward and cleared her throat. “We have been working on extracting information from the ansible,” she said. “The most recent transmissions are the easiest to recover, and once we solved the matrix to decode it, we discovered that the last message instructed Tyr to be ready to leave Svartalfheim. It was sent from Midgard, by a person called Vidar.”

“The name of Vidar is known to us,” Frigga said. “And Odin banished Thor to Midgard. Heimdall has been watching Thor, but has seen nothing to indicate that Tyr or his allies have discovered Thor’s location. Midgard is a large realm, and it is possible that the matters are entirely unrelated. However, I have submitted a plea to the elders of Asgard for clemency in the matter of Thor’s banishment in light of this information, and for permission to return him to Asgard for reevaluation of his sentence.”

A white-haired Aesir sitting in front of a cluster of others stood up. “Since the matter does not appear to be urgent, we request leave to discuss the issue.”

Frigga looked at Heimdall, who gave a slight nod. “Granted,” she said. “If the situation changes to require immediate action, we will inform you. Heimdall, please keep a close watch on Thor.” With that she stood up and walked to the door as everyone bowed. She paused to catch Loki’s attention and nodded to him, then the two of them left the room. The rest of us filed out and went our separate ways.

As soon as the door to our suite was shut, Aizerue gestured for me to follow eir into the sauna. E barely waited for me to enter before returning to eir native form, filling the room and crowding me close to the door. As I shifted to my natural shape e coiled and stared down at me. “I take it you were able to remove Loki’s shapeshifting block,” e said. “And that you have been physically intimate with him. What I do not understand is the alteration in your own basic pattern, or why you are suddenly so nervous about me.”

I debated my responses for a moment, then took a deep breath and bowed my head. “I have ransomed my life for the secret of our home,” I said. “I did not tell him where or how to find it, only that it exists, and that Nastrond is a deception.”

An enormous taloned hand clutched my midsection and I was lifted up to Aizerue’s muzzle. Eir grip was fairly gentle, but very firm. I shivered, struggling with my instincts to fight or escape as e stared at me for several long moments.

“You were not threatened, coerced, or forced into giving this information?” e asked. “You gave it of your own free will?”

“I did,” I said, raising my head to look Aizerue in the eyes and trying to control my breathing.

“I will not ask if you understand the full consequences of what you have done. You don’t.” Eir eyes glittered in the darkness. “And because you’ve made a link with him, you have no reason to fear punishment from me. If I did anything to you he would bring the full might of Asgard to bear, to find our home and carry out vengeance however he would see fit.”

I winced, shaking my head. “I… did not intend that. Whatever your judgment is, let me explain it to Loki first, and he will not interfere or retaliate.”

“He will not? How can you possibly guarantee that?”

“What possible assurance can I give you other than my own life?” I said, with more than a touch of anger. “What guarantee do any of us have of anything? Yes, it is a risk, and yes, I took that risk, but I took it with my wings open!”

“What advantage could your actions bring us, that would be worth such a risk?” e said, setting me back down on the ground.

I sat up on my hind legs. “Loki doesn’t want to be king,” I said. “He doesn’t want Thor to be king because he doesn’t think Thor is capable, but I suspect that if Thor is sufficiently humbled by his banishment to accept instruction from their parents, Loki would willingly give up the position of heir. He’s been told that he was born to be a king all his life, and trained and groomed for it—but he’s just found out that he was intended to be king of Jotunheim, which he wants to rule even less than Asgard. He only wanted to be king when he believed that was his only possible ambition.

“Think of everything we can offer him,” I continued, spreading my claws. “After I removed the lock on his shapeshifting, the first thing he wanted to do was fly, and he delighted in it as much as any of our fledglings. He was instructed in technomancy by Frigga, but he took to it enthusiastically and made it his own, despite the low station of aetheric weavers in this society. He’s already discovered and mapped paths to the other linked Nine Realms—and kept that information secret, well enough that I doubt even Heimdall knows the extent of Loki’s travels.”

“So… if Thor is reinstated as heir, you believe you can persuade Loki to join us in Nidheim?” Aizerue sounded thoughtful, and even a bit pleased.

“What better way to cement positive relations between our worlds?” I lowered my head, striving to conceal my relief, especially since I’d been devising the idea as I spoke.

“I apologize,” Aizerue rumbled, nudging me gently with eir muzzle. “I assumed you had given our safety away in a moment of careless passion, but now I perceive the wisdom in your plan.” From the teasing lilt in eir voice, I could tell that e had seen straight through my gambit and had chosen to accept it at face value. “I would advise against such designs in the future, but I suspect similar circumstances will not arise again in your lifetime, at least for several centuries.” I nodded my understanding of the implicit warning.

“Daucus and Malalik have the sauna for tonight.” E shifted down into eir Aesir form, and I did the same. “The talks are still scheduled for tomorrow, and barring any other news or emergency, you’ll be on duty. I know I will be. Let’s get some sleep.”

We exited the sauna, and I curled up in a corner of the central room in my native form, intending to think over the events of the day, but instead almost immediately fell asleep.

The negotiations the next day went as quietly as Aizerue could have hoped. Laharu teased me gently about the way my aura lit up every time Loki walked past as we stood guard, indirectly reassuring me that he and the others had no real objections to the situation. When the meeting adjourned, Loki gave me an illusory smile before our groups separated, and as we walked to our suite I wondered if he would visit or send a message asking for me.

I didn’t have long to wait. As servants cleared out the remains of our dinner, Loki appeared in our doorway. Aizerue invited him in, but he demurred.

“I’ve just been given word that the elders have come to a decision—much more quickly than I would have expected,” he said. “Thor is to be retrieved from Midgard immediately. I’m being sent as the official envoy, and Sif and the Warriors Three are coming along in case Thor doesn’t believe me. And… I would appreciate your company, as well.”

Aizerue gave me a small, wry smile and nodded. “You’re going to Midgard?” Laharu said. “See if you can bring back some chocolate!” I laughed and promised I would try.

We met up with the others as we boarded a skybarge. Sif smiled at Loki and I, and the blond Aesir gave Loki an enthusiastic clap on the back. The other two were more reserved, but not unfriendly as the barge flew us to the Bifrost gate.

The transition from Asgard’s evening of stars in the darkness to Midgard’s bright midday sun made us all pause for a few minutes to orient ourselves. Heimdall had deposited us in an open, dusty plain, with a small town visible not too far away.

“Ugh, it’s hot.” The face of the red-haired Aesir, who I remembered as Volstagg, was already sheened with sweat.

“I could make us a bit more comfortable,” Loki said as we began walking towards the town. “As well as give us appearances that won’t stand out quite so much, and alarm the natives.”

“I do not think we are in need of your spells and illusions,” Hogun said.

Sif was about to reply when Loki and I both stopped, our heads turning to the same point in town. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

“I can hear screams,” Sif added.

“Too late to worry about alarming the natives.” I shifted to my native form, taking some extra energy to enlarge myself, and nodded to Loki and Sif. “Climb on.”

Sif hesitated as Loki scrambled onto my back, then shrugged and let him assist her in climbing up. “I can only carry two,” I said to the other three apologetically. “You’ll have to run.” Before they could respond I lifted off and was flying towards the town. In truth I could have carried the other three, but it would have required a much greater use of energy and greatly hampered my speed and mobility. Besides, I figured Loki would find it amusing.

Chapter Text

“Let’s see what’s going on,” Loki said as he cast a shroud of invisibility over us. I turned my head and nodded, then circled higher into the sky, circling around the settlement.

It wasn’t hard to spot Tyr. He was standing in the town’s central plaza, on a pedestal that was surrounded by rubble, presumably from a statue that he’d destroyed to give himself a platform. His golden cape billowed in the breeze, armor glinting in the sun, as he waved a gold-hilted sword in one gauntleted fist, which I knew to be his artificial hand. Several mortals cowered on the ground near him, and more of the town’s residents were being herded towards the plaza by troops of Marauders, who were pulling them out of buildings and vehicles. I couldn’t see Thor anywhere.

Suddenly a white-haired Aesir flew straight up from the plaza, staring intently in the direction where Heimdall had set us down. I went into a silent glide, holding my wings as still as possible. Loki’s web of invisibility seemed thin and frail, but I knew that manipulating the aether to reinforce it would call attention to us as surely as if we were outlined in fire. The Aesir only stayed up a few seconds, evaluating the three warriors still running in the direction of the town, then lowered himself back to the ground near Tyr’s pedestal.

“That must be Vidar, the mage who disguised himself as a dragon,” Loki muttered as I flapped my wings again, spiraling closer to the town and trying to catch my breath. I nodded again but made no reply as I selected a tall brick building overlooking the plaza to land on, perching on its roof as quietly as possible. Fortunately there was plenty of noise on the street below to mask our arrival, between the panicked humans and rampaging Marauders recklessly discharging their weapons.

Tyr shouted, gesturing down a side street, and we saw Thor walking towards the center of town, flanked by two Marauders. In place of his usual costume of cape and armor, he wore nondescript local attire and a grubby apron. “We have to get them away from the humans,” I said. “They’re far too fragile for this kind of fight.”

Loki glanced at me, then looked back over the square. “I have an idea,” he said. “Can you channel some aetheric energy to me, and cover me while I set up an illusion?”

I picked up his pattern of invisibility, anchoring it to the rooftop, and began bending threads of aether into his grasp. Loki concentrated, weaving the image tightly to make it as durable and convincing as possible. “This should get Vidar away for a few minutes,” he said as he was finishing. “If you two can lead the Marauders out to the other warriors, I’ll try to extract Thor.”

Sif nodded, then turned to run across the top of the building. She used her spear to vault to another roof across the street and was gone from view in seconds. Loki set the illusion in motion, then gave me a kiss on the tip of my muzzle. “For good luck,” he said, smiling at me. I rubbed my nose against his forehead, then slid out of the area of invisibility and crawled over the side of the building, down into the street.

A pair of Marauders were herding a few straggling humans into the center of the town as Loki’s illusion began. Vidar’s gaze was immediately drawn towards the swirling, darkened clouds that heralded another arrival through the Bifrost, this one less than a mile outside of town and clearly visible across the open plain. I coiled behind a car, watching as he tried to call Tyr’s attention to the illusion, but his master brushed him aside, intent on Thor and his captive audience. Scowling, Vidar lifted himself into the air again.

I didn’t know what Loki had based his illusion around, but evidently Vidar considered it enough of a threat to abandon his master. A big Marauder standing at the front of the crowd shouted something I couldn’t make out as the Aesir swooped away, a second before I heard Sif’s yell and a fight break out on a side street. As the others turned to look, I wove a quick pattern and cast it around the head of the Marauder who seemed to have been left in charge. When zie tried to shout again, I canceled the sound out and replaced it with a call of my own in the rough pidgin language the Marauders used: “A thousand to whoever brings me her head!” There was a pause as the Marauders looked to their leader, who was waving zir arms frantically, then they cheered and began racing towards the alley. I raised my head, making sure that the leader could see me, then trotted off after the other Marauders. A glance over my shoulder confirmed that the leader was chasing me, and as soon as they had all cleared the square, I saw Loki leap down from his perch to confront Tyr. Confident that he had the situation in the plaza under control, I turned my attention to leading the Marauders out into the desert.

The bulk of them were already chasing Sif down the side street. I bounced off a car and over her head, then paused to look back. She took my hint, using her spear to vault onto my back, and I carried her past the last couple of houses and into the open plain. The other three warriors were nearby, slowing down as they approached the town. “I brought you some friends to play with!” I called as I leapt over their heads, then turned back to see the Marauders pouring towards them. “I hope you’re not tired out yet!”

“Tired? I’ve just gotten warmed up!” the large red-haired warrior shouted back. The three were armed in seconds, while Sif slid off my back and took up position alongside them. The Marauders coming out of the town slowed on seeing us, but their comrades behind pushed them forward into the warriors’ weapons.

Marauders are renowned throughout the Realms as being enthusiastic but inept fighters, relying on overwhelming numbers and ferocity to cow their opponents and fleeing when better-trained, more organized warriors arrive. Most of the Marauders we fought fell neatly into this mold and were dispatched quickly and with fairly little effort, despite being better armed than their usual warbands. With the first onslaught on the ground at our feet, the remaining invaders pulled back, under the direction of the leader I’d silenced earlier.

“Now it gets difficult,” the Vanir named Hogun said, with an air of gloomy relish.

“They’re coordinating,” Sif said, baring her teeth. “Sigyn, Volstagg, get the leader. Break it up now!”

The large redhead yelled and charged the group, the others following suit. I jumped straight up into the air with a beat of my wings, then dove down to land on the leader with all my weight. Zie staggered, but didn’t fall. I grabbed the horned helmet with both foreclaws and my teeth, beating my wings, and was surprised when it came off easily in my grasp. Tossing it aside, I looked down to see zir glaring up at me. Most Marauders were of mixed ancestry from various species across the Nine Realms. The leader looked Aesir, but zir size and faintly reddish skin hinted at Fire Giant descent.

Distracted by zir enraged grimace, a blaster bolt hit my side, slamming me into the ground with the breath knocked out of me. Before I could stand, the leader smashed against me and wrapped zir hands around my neck, weapon forgotten as zie attempted to strangle me in a berserker fury. Zie held my head up too high to bite, and simply ignored the damage I did as I struck and clawed frantically at zir body.

Just as I was starting to think I might be in real danger of blacking out, an axe bit into zir shoulder from behind. The tremendous grip weakened and I twisted away as zie turned to face Volstagg. The red-haired warrior hesitated at the expression of deranged wrath on the berserker’s face, but even while I gasped for breath, I whipped my tail forward, coiling it around the Marauder’s leg and pulling zir to the ground. Volstagg’s axe quickly put an end to the leader’s rage.

As I stood up, I caught a pulse of aetheric disturbance from the spot Loki had set for his illusion. I looked over, just in time to see the last of the illusion collapse under Vidar’s explosive attack. The Aesir staggered, then rose up into the air and began soaring back towards the town.

“We have to keep Vidar away from them!” I called, leaping into flight and bending every aetheric thread I could grab into speed. Vidar didn’t seem to notice me as I darted towards him, right up until the moment we collided. I wrapped my limbs around him and folded my wings, pulling him into a bone-jarring plummet to the ground that left us both breathless and somewhat stunned.

I recovered seconds before the Aesir did. He didn’t seem to be armed, but I knew that he was an extremely adept aetheric weaver—much better than I was. He’d thrown up an arm to protect his face, and I bit into it, wrenching my head sideways. I hope that the pain would distract him as I attempted to gather and weave the threads of power around us into a smooth capsule that would prevent either of us from using them effectively.

Vidar snarled, clouting me on the side of the head, then yanked the bundle of aetheric threads out of my grip. My heart sank as a new pattern flared inside his and his body began to shift, realizing that he’d grafted other shapes for quick changing as well. I released his arm and backed away as his body changed and swelled, reaching for the threads to activate one of my own grafted patterns, but before I could channel enough energy to shift he flung a cage around me, cutting off my access to the aether just as I’d planned to do to him.

A whimper rose in my throat as his form filled out into that of an enormous blue-gray dragon, almost certainly the shape he’d used to deal with the Marauder groups Thor had found. The instinct to defer to an enraged larger, and therefore older, member of my own species as overwhelming, an urge that required special training to overcome—training I hadn’t been given. I crouched close to the ground and hissed, mantling my wings and hoping that he didn’t recognize the quivering of my tail.

“We should have destroyed you worms when we had the chance,” Vidar growled. He reared up, flaring his wings, and swiped at me with his foreclaws. I dodged and backed up further. “There’s no place for treacherous animals like you in a civilized universe!”

Despite his size, Vidar clearly hadn’t spent enough time fighting in the shape of a dragon to fully utilize the form. He missed obvious openings, failed to follow up attacks properly, and left huge gaps in his defenses. My own psychological handicap of fighting against an older dragon was rapidly crumbling under his blatant clumsiness. Still, he did have the advantages of size, strength, and the ability to manipulate the aetheric threads he’d denied me. I guessed that Vidar wanted to defeat me in the form of a dragon to satisfy his vanity, and whatever remnants of vengeance he’d been carrying from the war so many centuries ago.

“And where do you think we learned to lie?” I said, twisting aside from another rake of his claws. “We had to adopt Aesir words—intrigue, deception, fraud—into our language for concepts we’d never seen before!” I was fairly sure this wasn’t entirely true, but it was at least plausible, given the history of our two species.

“The honor of my people was compromised the moment we agreed to a truce with you serpents.” His tail lashed out, catching my leg and pulling me to the ground, a mirror of the maneuver I’d used against the Marauder I’d fought a few minutes ago. I rolled in the dust, and the claw he slammed down only scratched my neck instead of crushing it. “With Tyr on the throne—or his son, I don’t really care which—I will lead the armies of Asgard to Nastrond and destroy every one of you crawling horrors.”

The scales on my back flexed, a reaction to the jolt of fear I felt at Vidar’s almost casual declaration of genocide. We’d protected ourselves against exactly that for ages, but if he were determined enough, with all of Aesir society at his command, it would likely only be a matter of time before he found our true home.

I squirmed, avoiding another slash of his claws by a scale’s width and trying to get out of his reach so I could stand up again. Instead, Vidar scored a hit on my side that sent me tumbling in the dust to land on my back. Before I could wriggle away, he had me pinned.

“My campaign will begin with your death,” he said. His wide grin opened into a gape, and he dropped his head to rip out my throat with his teeth. I raised my claws to defend myself, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Before he reached me, something flew into his face, knocking him aside to stagger away. I struggled out of his grasp and glanced over at Sif’s fierce smile. “It looked like you could use some help,” she said, gripping her spear and taking a defensive stance.

I opened my mouth to respond, but was silenced by Vidar’s deafening roar of frustration. I scrambled to my feet as he lunged at Sif, then turned and threw myself back into the fight. We’d have time to exchange banter later—if we survived.

Chapter Text

There was no time for doubt or hesitation. I gave the illusion spell a push with my mind to set it in motion, releasing my control over its magical currents, and felt an odd surge of affectionate approval. It took me a moment to recognize the source of the emotion as coming from the dragon standing before me. Zir form was different from the one I’d seen most often, but I knew that I would have recognized Sigynazor out of a thousand beings, no matter what shape zie was in. Out of my own confused, conflicting thoughts came a current of tenderness unlike anything I’d experienced before. I kissed the soft curve at the tip of zir muzzle and smiled. “For good luck,” I said, knowing it was inadequate but without time to untangle it further. Zie must have seen it in my aura, though, as zie pressed zir nose to my forehead to return the kiss, then slipped away in Sif’s wake.

I looked back to the square to see Vidar reacting to my illusion exactly as I’d hoped. The flash of what appeared to be the Bifrost activating again caught his attention, and he immediately flew up to investigate. Upon seeing the image of the Destroyer marching towards the town, he called down to Tyr, “We need to deal with this.” Tyr waved his hand in a dismissive response, and Vidar scowled, then flew off into the desert.

I jumped down as soon as he was clear of the plaza, releasing my spell of invisibility and replacing it with an image of my full battle attire, including the cape and helm. As I walked into the town square I considered doing the same for Thor, then decided it would be better not to call attention to him, given his current vulnerability.

“Look at you, the mighty Thor,” Tyr sneered, his gilded short sword pointed unwaveringly at Thor’s chest. “Cast out, stripped of your powers and dressed in the rags of Midgard. You were never fit to rule Asgard. I’m doing our people a favor by destroying you.”

A few days ago, those words would likely have goaded my brother into a fury. I tensed, expecting violent action, but Thor only raised his hands. “Destroy me if you must, but leave these mortals in peace,” he said.

I’m not sure who was more surprised, Tyr or myself, but the fallen king recovered first. “I will burn this hovel to ashes and leave none alive who witnessed these events!”

I moved to Thor’s side. “So, the tales are true,” I said, putting on my most insolent smirk. “You can only bring destruction, and are incapable of understanding or engineering peace.”

Thor jumped a little in surprise as Tyr pointed his sword at me. I knew he would want to draw out the confrontation, rather than destroying me immediately, but I also knew that he had not wielded Tyrfing for a millennium. I suppressed a flinch at the thought that he might discharge it upon me accidentally in his unhinged frenzy. “And who are you to interfere with the business of kings?” he said, glaring.

“I am Loki… Odinsotherson,” I said, with a small bow. “If you would have the throne of Asgard, there is not one you must destroy, but two.”

The sword wavered as Tyr squinted at us. “So, another whelp of Odin appears, to save his litter-mate!” Tyr shouted. His voice carried well despite his age, and I wondered if he had been practicing, or if Vidar had given him magical assistance.

“I come to muzzle an aged hound, and end his pitiful yapping,” I replied, putting a hand on Thor’s shoulder and surreptitiously covering him with the strongest spell of protection I could manage. “Let us leash you again and lead you to your kennel, tail tucked between your legs.”

Tyr’s eyes flashed as he straightened his shoulders. He recognized by the cadence of my speech that I was flyting, delivering the ritual insults that preceded a duel between Aesir nobility. In those contests matching taunts was as important as the fighting, to show one’s clear-headed bravery and cleverness to an audience who would remember the words long after the violence was done, especially since most nobles survived duels and then had to live for centuries with the opinions of their peers dissecting and gossiping over their performance. In this situation, our only audience was a herd of terrified, confused mortals and a powerless Aesir that he hoped to murder. Nobody would know or care if he simply destroyed us without responding in kind.

“You think you can chain me, you womanish whelp?” he growled, lowering his sword. “I have heard of you, Loki the Liar. Your words are but wind, puffing forth from a face fair-cheeked as a virgin’s blush.”

I had to hide a smile as he responded to my challenge. Thor growled and shifted, but I restrained him with my grip on his shoulder. Evidently he hadn’t entirely outgrown the need to avenge insults to his family. While the taunt may have stung before, I now knew the secret of why I had never been able to grow hair on my face, and the knowledge of secrets has always been the most powerful kind. I would never be hurt there again.

On the other hand, much can be learned about a person by how they choose to insult others. I released Thor’s arm and stepped forward, fingers twitching as I began to craft another illusion. “Much the same has been said of your get, little Ragnar, man-child of Asgard,” I said, distracting attention from my gestures with a flourish of my cloak. “Muscles he lacks beneath feast-fattened curves, and his cheeks are as smooth as a maiden’s. Training at arms frightens him with its noise—he makes a fair adorner of benches.”

“My son is no woman, nor a coward!” Tyr spat, his gnarled knuckles whitening their grip on Tyrfing.

I took advantage of Tyr’s anger to cast the spells I’d been holding, and stepped aside, watching him carefully. I was very pleased to see that his attention remained on the illusion of myself I’d created, standing by Thor’s side, and his eyes never moved towards my true, invisible self.

“He fled from your scheme to put him on the throne,” I said, projecting my voice from the illusion as I moved stealthily around Tyr’s side. “He ran straight to me, spilling all. Ragnar was so frighted of your plans for him that he wept, and begged me to save him.”

Tyr’s grip shifted, and I tugged on the magical currents, encouraging him to words instead of actions. It was only a subconscious suggestion, but he was well primed to receive it. I needed him to hold his fire until I was in position behind him.

“Ill-forger, cease, or face Tyrfing’s wrath,” he said, straightening his spine. “You lie to turn me against my son. He will heed the call of power, and when you are both dead, he will rise to the throne, his rightful place. My blood in his veins will show the truth!” Tyr’s face was red and his voice rose as he lost the rhythm of the flyting cadence. If this had been a public duel in Asgard, as far as any noble spectators were concerned, he would have already lost.

“Your blood?” I asked, my illusion showing a mockingly curious expression. It was a little odd to watch myself over Tyr’s shoulder, but I didn’t let that distract me as I channeled yet more magical energy to charge the daggers in my hands. “I remember the gossip… Thyra was fond of both of Bor’s sons. Perhaps Ragnar, too, is my brother?” I readied myself to strike as the former king stiffened. “Odin took your hand, your throne, and your wife, casting you out to rule a ruined world—”

This was, by far, the most challenging feat I had ever attempted: maintaining a credible illusion of myself, projecting a steady stream of carefully barbed insults from my illusory self along with a web of magical manipulation designed to direct his anger and attention, while wrapped in a cloak of invisibility and attempting to sneak behind my opponent as I empowered my daggers with enough force to put him down in one strike. It was a true test of my skills, and in spite of the circumstances I found myself somewhat enjoying the experience.

So of course my brother had to ruin the whole thing.

Tyr’s bellow of rage interrupted my speech as he stabbed his sword at my illusion. Over his shoulder, I watched as Thor threw himself in front of the blade. The energy discharged by the weapon was strong enough to have briefly incapacitated him when he was at the height of his powers. The inadequate shield I’d put across Thor’s body was instantly shredded like tissue. Reduced to the strength of a mortal, the impact of the blow picked him up and threw him across the street, to crash into the side of a metal carriage and crumple to the ground.

I don’t know what noise I made, but it left my throat raw and torn. In front of me, Tyr flinched away from the unexpected presence behind him even as I plunged my knives into his back, one on either side of his spine. The sword flew from his grip as he twisted, reaching fruitlessly for the handles of my weapons. I shoved him to the ground as I raced past him, arriving at Thor’s side at the same time as his human lover, and we knelt on either side of him.

“You know I use illusions, Thor, you know that,” I babbled as the mortal gently cradled his bleeding head. I put my hand over the gushing wound in his side, willing it to heal even as I felt his life pouring out between my fingers. “You didn’t think I’d be so stupid as to put myself in danger like that, did you? You never think!” At my frustrated shout I felt the woman flinch and glanced up, to see terror and grief in her expression that mirrored mine.

“Didn’t think,” he mumbled, his uneven breath hitching in his chest. “Safe now?”

I looked back to the collapsed form of Tyr, still weakly trying to pull the knives out of his back as the crowd of mortals began to rise, looking around in bewilderment. I’d charged the weapons to a fairly low power, hoping to take him home alive, but I found myself completely unconcerned if he bled out in the street. The battle outside of town was still raging, but it didn’t seem important enough to mention at the moment. “Safe enough,” I said, looking back down at my brother.

Thor lifted his free hand towards the mortal and she caught it, letting him stroke her face and smudge her tears. “’He went consenting, else he was no king.’ Mother… told us that story, remember?” He grimaced, struggling not to cough. “I know now. This is—what she meant. Rule well, brother. Live long, sweet Jane.” He exhaled, a strange, wet whistling sound, then lay still.

“No,” Jane said, still holding his hand. “No, you can’t. Don’t do this. Please.” An older man walked up behind her and put his hand on her back as she bent over the limp body, shoulders shaking. I gently placed Thor’s other hand on his chest, then sat back on my heels, staring blindly at the blood that covered my hands and arms.

A high-pitched sound was building across the desert. In a few seconds it had pierced the sounds of battle still raging outside the town. I blinked, looking in the direction of the sound, and saw what looked like an explosion on the horizon, far past Vidar’s fight.

“Jane,” the older mortal said, gripping her shoulder and tugging, as a line of white clouds fountained up into the sky. “Jane, we have to go now.”

“I can’t leave him!” she cried, but by then she had also heard the noise and looked up. The line slowed, and seemed to be arcing—racing straight in our direction.

“We can’t help him now, Jane, we have to go!” The older man pulled her up and dragged her away several steps.

I stood up, staring at the object flying towards us, then grinned and turned back to the other two. “He may be beyond our help, but his star still shines!” I ran towards them, catching them up before they could flinch and carrying them several yards away, half-turning before setting them down and putting my arms around each of their shoulders, just in time to see the handle of Mjolnir smack into Thor’s waiting, upraised hand.

Before our eyes, Thor’s mantle of immortality was restored—even his armor flashed back onto his body as he held his hammer aloft, wreathed in lightning. I might have rolled my eyes at his theatrical pose, but given the circumstances I rather felt it was justified.

“Oh. My. God.”

I smirked at Jane. “Not yours yet, but you’ve certainly made a good claim to him so far.”

I didn’t hear any response she might have given me as I doubled over, falling to one knee on the pavement. From the link Sigyn had given me, I could tell that the dragon had just been badly wounded, and lost zir fight with Vidar. “Thor!” I struggled to gather energy to myself, through the haze of second-hand pain and exhaustion from everything else I’d done. “Thor, he’s coming back!”

He glanced back at Tyr’s motionless form, then looked questioningly at me. I waved in the direction of the desert, and Thor turned just as a huge blue-gray dragon rose up, arcing over the buildings on the edge of town and hovering before us on massive, outspread wings, while the crowd of mortals around us screamed and tried to flee in renewed panic. The magical currents began to warp, twisting towards Vidar as he prepared to cast a spell of devastation. I knew that he would not waste time grandstanding like Tyr had, but would put all his strength into wiping us out with a single blow.

The monster opened his gaping maw, and we could see the flames burning deep inside. Vidar meant to destroy us with magical dragon’s fire—what he undoubtedly felt would be a fitting end. I had put up a shield, but it was weak, even as I was still trying to channel energy into it with a frantic certainty that it would not be enough. Staring into the burning darkness, I caught a streak of light out of the corner of my eye, almost too fast to follow. There was an explosive impact, and I blinked. When I opened my eyes, the dragon was still hovering on a cushion of magical support with an expression of profound surprise on his face. Through his open mouth, I could see the blue sky of the desert behind him. His eyes rolled back and his body collapsed to the ground, then collapsed further into that of an Aesir with a ravaged head, as the last of the magic Vidar had been controlling was released.

Thor watched Vidar’s body as his hand reached out to catch Mjolnir’s return, ready to strike again if the Aesir gave any sign of life. Releasing the shield spell, I stood up, feeling a surge of disoriented, pained relief. It took me a few moments to realize that the sensation was coming from Sigynazor, and I looked up to see zir in near-Aesir form, staggering into the town square with Volstagg’s support, while Hogun and Fandarel half-carried Sif. All of them looked exhausted, battered, and triumphant.

I took a step towards them, but froze when I heard an alarmed shout. Whirling around, I saw that Tyr had crawled to where Tyrfing lay, the fingers of his artificial hand almost touching the sword’s golden hilt. Without thinking, I flicked out a knife and pinned his hand to the ground, then darted forward and scooped up the weapon, ignoring his agonized scream.

The world seemed to withdraw from around me as I stared at the sword. Strange, subtle thoughts flickered through my mind, not quite too faint and quick for me to detect. My awareness of them seemed to spark a reaction, and the thoughts grew stronger. Memories were called up, scenes were imagined, my responses examined and judged. I realized I was being tested. The skin where I gripped the handle flashed blue, then back to that of an Aesir, and I knew the secret of my ancestry had been uncovered. In my alarm and confusion I would have dropped the weapon, but my hand would not release its hilt. Then, in the space of an indrawn breath the onslaught stopped, and I heard something like a click in my mind. Tyrfing seemed to open up, coming alive with magic that revealed a web of information and abilities.

“I think it likes you,” Thor said, startling me out of my reverie. He had one arm around Jane’s waist, but raised Mjolnir in his other hand, grinning widely. As he did, I felt a resonance between it and the sword I held, as well as a fainter echo from farther away. I concentrated on this echo and realized Odin—my father—had awakened, and was holding Gungnir. For a moment I felt his surprise tinged with pleasure as he understood who was holding Tyrfing. While I was relieved to know he was recovered, I also still felt the anger and confusion towards him that hadn’t resolved since our argument in the armory. In response to my half-formed thought, Tyrfing narrowed the thread of communication between the weapons so that I was only vaguely aware of the other two.

Volstagg released Sigyn, who seemed to fall forward, transforming in an instant into zir natural form. There was some more shouting and alarm from the mortals at seeing a second dragon appear in their midst, but it seemed halfhearted and quieted quickly as they realized the new dragon was a friend of the people that had saved them. Sigyn limped to my side, and on a barely-understood impulse I touched zir with the tip of Tyrfing, sending magical power streaming through the weapon. Just as I had hoped, the additional energy helped speed up the dragon’s regeneration, and zir wounds healed as I watched. Zie straightened up and smiled at me.

We all looked around at the sound of screeching tires, to see a stream of black-suited warriors emerge from a newly arrived fleet of vehicles.

Chapter Text

I’d spent enough time on Midgard to recognize the newly arrived humans as government agents of some kind, though they wore no uniforms or insignias. I tensed for conflict, but then saw the human that had been clinging to Thor release him and stride forward. Thor followed, looking more subdued, or possibly even abashed. I exchanged glances with Loki, and we approached in Thor’s wake.

“Excuse me,” said the one that seemed to be their leader. “Donald… I don’t think you’ve been completely honest with me.” It took me a second to realize that he was speaking to Thor. The other agents spread out, carefully watching all of us and behaving as if they were taking command of the situation. Their demeanor of calm control affected the natives, who began approaching and speaking to them cautiously.

“Know this, son of Coul,” Thor said, looming over the balding human. “You and I, we fight for the same cause, the protection of this world. From this day forward, you can count on me as your ally—if you return the items you have taken from Jane.”

“Stolen!” The human who had been by Thor’s side glared at the government agent.

“Borrowed,” the agent replied in a calming tone. “Of course you can have your equipment back. You’re going to need it to continue your research.”

“Chief! We’ve got a casualty here!” An agent was crouching next to Tyr’s fallen body. “He’s still alive! Call an ambulance!”

“He is the enemy responsible for what happened here,” Thor said. “The others were his servants, and all have been slain.” He glanced at Hogun, who nodded solemnly. “We—my brother, Loki, will return him to Asgard, where he will stand trial for his crimes.” The other warriors moved to surround Tyr, gently pushing the human agent away as they removed Loki’s knives, then helped the former king to stand and bound him.

“We were on our way to retrieve you from your banishment, in fact,” Loki said, walking forward to stand beside Thor. “Your actions here were as noble as could be asked of any hero of Asgard, and I will testify to that.”

I raised my head over Loki’s shoulder. “As will I. With the revelation of Tyr’s plotting, I am certain that my people will hold no animosity towards you, Thor.”

The government leader startled back, staring at me. “You’re—a dragon!” he blurted. There was a general shuffling and reaching for weapons among his troops, but none actually drew, waiting for his signal.

My wings fluttered in amusement as I nodded. “Indeed,” I said. “I hope this does not present a problem for you.”

“I… I’m not sure what I’m going to put in my report,” he said, waving at his agents to stand down. Several comments came to my mind, but I pushed them aside and only shrugged.

“Would you like to see that bridge I spoke of?” Thor asked his human companion, who nodded eagerly. Without any other warning, Thor whirled his hammer, lifting them both into the sky.

“Wait, I need to debrief you!” the agent shouted after them, then sighed and looked at us. I danced back a step, flaring my wings. Loki took my cue and vaulted onto my back. “We’ll meet you there,” he said to the other warriors, and I vaulted into the air, following Thor’s route with less speed.

“So… what happens now?” I asked, trying to sound merely curious before remembering that Loki would know exactly how I truly felt.

“We got home—to Asgard,” Loki said. “There will be some debate, but if you can convince Aizerue of Thor’s reformation, it should be simple enough to return him to Odin’s good graces.” I couldn’t see Loki’s face or his aura, but I could hear the tinge of bitterness in his voice. “Thor will be the heir again, and I will…” He sighed, tightening his grip on my neck. “I will have to decide what I want to be. I will never be king of Asgard.”

“You were born to be a king,” I said quietly. “But now that you know your true nature… why let that limit your ambition?”

Loki didn’t reply. I let him think about that for a minute, circling lazily around the Bifrost landing site. “There are realms beyond counting,” I finally continued. “The Aesir have built a beautiful prison for themselves, and their entire society is crafted to convince them that they are the pinnacle of civilization. But I know of worlds that would make Aesir weep with awe.”

I could barely hear his whisper. “Asgard is my home.”

”The humans here have a saying… home is where the heart is.” I could see vehicles carrying the Warriors Four and our prisoner with an entourage of agents, nearing the spot where Thor and Jane stood. “My people have a different saying—we carry our homes within us, which enables us to fly. And you’ve been set free.”

“That’s certainly an interesting perspective,” he said with just a shade of dry sarcasm in his voice. “It does give me an idea, though.” He stroked my neck and I shivered happily, spiraling down to where the others waited.

As we landed, I heard Thor explaining to his human companion that he could not bring zir back to Asgard now, but he would return for zir soon. I wondered idly if Thor would remember that “soon” for humans meant a matter of days, rather than years. That might be the least of their problems, of course—assuming Thor was reinstated as Odin’s heir, there was no way Jane could be approved as his consort. If he insisted on staying with the human as long as zie lived, it would mean putting off his coronation for at least that long… if not reopening the question of his fitness all over again.

Their tearful farewells were cut mercifully short as the bridge opened. I shifted back to my Aesir guard form, noticed the agent leader staring at me, and winked just before we were drawn up and away.

Odin greeted us at the Bifrost with his avian companions perched on his shoulders, looking more energetic than he had when I first arrived. He embraced Thor warmly. After an awkward moment of hesitation from both of them, he also embraced Loki, whispering a few words that made the young Jotun’s aura glow with pleasure. Odin ignored his brother completely, standing chained and glaring between the Warriors Four.

Aizerue and Frigga were also waiting outside the chamber. Frigga held her hands out to her sons, smiling, and I approached Aizerue with a formal bow. “Vidar is dead, and we have captured Tyr,” I said.

The diplomat waved eir hand. “Save the rest of the report,” e said. “I can see that there will be some interesting discussions and difficult decisions when we return to the palace.” A squad of guards clustered around Tyr, marching him down the long path to the palace, as the rest of us boarded skybarges. After a brief interlude, which I spent giving a quick sketch of what had occurred on Midgard in our suite while Laharu helped me finish regenerating my injuries, we were all called to a formal audience in the grand throne room.

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As king of Asgard, Odin had the authority to make any judgments and decisions he liked without anybody’s approval, and from what I’d seen that was usually the case. On this occasion, the entire council of elders was present, as well as representatives from what I realized were several other powerful groups in Asgard society. I guessed that every noble family was represented as well. The enormous audience hall wasn’t even close to full, but there were at least twice as many people present as there had been at our arrival ceremony. Frigga, Thor, Loki, and the Warriors Four flanked his throne, in positions of honor.

Many members of the audience kept a nervous vigil on Tyr, who stood surrounded by guards, wearing chains and the tattered garments he’d taken to Midgard. He seemed to have been healed from his injuries, but he was leaning covertly on the guards on either side, and I doubt he could have stood unsupported for long. His expression showed only weary bitterness.

After tapping his spear, Odin gave a very brief outlining of why we were there, and what would be decided. I found the retelling of events that followed to be tedious, but kept myself amused watching the reactions of the audience to his unfolding story. Odin skillfully steered the narrative away from awkward complications. Although the elders and representatives were invited to ask questions of their own, they seemed satisfied with the testimony as it was given.

Once the tale had been told more or less in its entirety, the Warriors Four were called before the dais. Each of them was given a medallion and titles of nobility. Fandarel, who was already of noble birth, was given an additional title. Hogun and Sif seemed particularly moved by this gift, and although the concept was rather abstract and meaningless for me, their happiness was contagious.

The mood in the hall darkened as Tyr and his entourage of guards came to stand before the throne. Odin read a list of charges, and then asked each of the representatives whether they thought Tyr was guilty. The answers were unsurprisingly unanimous.

There was a pause, and I wondered if Odin was going to ask for opinions on sentencing, but instead he leaned forward, as though he was addressing Tyr along. “Tyr Borson… my brother,” he said, his voice quiet and heavy. “I had truly hoped that we could be reconciled, that the quiet isolation of your exile would cool your anger. Instead you have used the time you were bestowed to nurture your hatred and conspire against your family and king. I was able to grant you mercy when I sent you to Svartalfheim, but with the evidence of what you have made of that mercy, I have no more to give you.

“Tyr Borson.” Odin raised his head and his voice strengthened. “You will be taken from this hall directly to the Chamber of Termination, where you will be executed as the last sun’s rays illuminate the peak of Asgard. I will bear witness, as will whichever representatives wish to verify the event.” He looked for a moment as if he would say something else, but instead he closed his eye and gestured to the guards, who marched Tyr out of the hall.

Odin didn’t open his eye until Tyr was gone. When he did, he beckoned to Thor, who stepped forward to kneel before the dais. “In light of these events, I have rescinded the banishment of Thor Odinson. Furthermore, given the report of his actions on Midgard, I propose that he consent to a period of training in politics and diplomacy overseen by Queen Frigga. At the end of that time he will be interviewed and tested by the council of elders, and if they approve, he will be reinstated as the heir to the throne of Asgard. Thor, do you consent to this?”

“I do,” Thor said, saluting his father solemnly.

“And do you approve of this plan?” Odin asked the audience. The cheer that went up in response may have been a little reluctant around the edges, but on the whole the people of Asgard seemed happy enough to give Thor a second chance.

“Then I pronounce this—”

“I would like to make a request.”

The audience murmured and parted as Loki strolled forward. He bowed and saluted before the throne, then gripped Thor’s elbow and pulled his brother up to stand beside him.

If I hadn’t been looking for it, I would have thought that I was imagining the very slight shadow of tense wariness that crossed Odin’s face, but his expression was convincingly neutral as he nodded for Loki to continue.

“The duties of the younger heir to the throne have traditionally been to offer wise counsel, be available as a replacement should the elder become unsuitable for one reason or another, and to cause a certain amount of trouble.” Loki’s smile was infectious, especially when aided by his aetheric techniques of persuasion. Whether the manipulation of aetheric threads was a conscious ability or not, I watched the effects on his audience as representatives of noble families chuckled, and saw a few smiles on members of the council of elders. Thor was grinning at his brother like an affectionate puppy. A warm glow of approval suffused Frigga’s aura, and though I knew Loki couldn’t see it, he was certainly aware of her favor. Only Odin remained impassive as he anticipated his adoptive son’s gambit.

“Since I have already demonstrated proficiency in these duties, I request a personal leave of absence from Asgard.” There was a brief murmur of surprise as Loki raised his hand. “As many of you know, I have made no secret of my contention that Asgard’s period of self-imposed isolation must come to an end. We had good reason to withdraw from the other realms when we did, but I believe that there is much mutual benefit that can come from reaching out to them now.” He gestured towards Aizerue, who nodded slightly, recognizing a cue when e saw it. “I have hopes that the treaty with the Niddroghn will be the opening through which a revitalizing stream may eventually pour. Whether you agree with this idea or not, it is certain that my brother will be required to have increased dealings with the other realms when his time comes to rule Asgard, one way or another. And to that end, so that I may give wise advice based on personal observations and sound reasoning, I would like to spend some time visiting and exploring the other eight realms that make up our cosmos.”

“It could be said that you have already done plenty of this, in your travels with your brother and his Warriors,” Odin said dryly.

“On those ventures, I was acting as an official representative of Asgardian interests—more or less,” Loki replied. Thor chuckled, as did a few others in the audience. “I am proposing now to use my skills with magic to make less obvious observations, to broaden my understanding of the peoples of the other realms on a more informal basis, and to see ourselves from their point of view.” Nobody was crass enough to say the word “spying” out loud, but awareness of that subtext flickered through the crowd, earning subtle nods of approval from many.

“And if some situation should arise here that requires your presence?” Odin said. I had the distinct impression that he already knew the answer, but wanted to have it clearly stated.

“In the process of thwarting Tyr’s plans on Midgard, I was able to reclaim Tyrfing, lost these many centuries.” Loki drew the sword and held it up for all to see as several of the elders gasped. “As it shares a bond with its fellow forgemates, Gungnir and Mjollnir, it allows us direct communication across the Realms, as quick as thought. Of course, that’s in addition to having Heimdall find and send the Bifrost to collect me,” Loki added, still smiling. I had wondered if Odin was aware of Loki’s ability to conceal himself from Heimdall’s sight. From the way the king of Asgard was clenching his jaw, it seemed that he was.

“Very well. I grant you use of Tyrfing, since it seems that it has accepted you as its rightful owner, and give you leave to travel the realms as you see fit. I request that you make regular reports to us through Tyrfing, and return to visit your family when you can.”

Loki bowed acknowledgment and stepped back. “Then, if there is no further business…” Odin looked pointedly around the chamber for a moment, then tapped the butt of his spear on the floor. “I pronounce this session at an end.”

As courtiers swirled and chattered around the sides, Odin stood and walked down the steps of the dais. Frigga approached him, setting her hand lightly on his arm, and I could see her aura ripple as she lent some of her energy to her spouse. Loki said something into Thor’s ear, and the brothers bowed as their parents passed them, then fell into place behind them. No discussion among us was needed as we guards moved into formation around Aizerue and Daucus. Each of us needed to witness Tyr’s end, however unpleasant.

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The rising sun warmed my wings as I flew steadily toward the tangled woods of the Svartald. I soared high, aware that I was likely being watched by many Aesir. There were still plenty of issues that needed to be worked out in the treaty, but the formal announcement of peace between our people had been made the day before and Aizerue decided that the sight of a dragon flying overhead would help to indicate our benevolent intent. E had warned me to be careful, however, since there could be discontented holdouts that might see an opportunity to make their opinions known. I was alert, well-shielded, and maintaining an illusion that kept my image offset from where I actually was by several yards, just in case.

My passenger, on the other hand, was under a shroud of invisibility. It had been agreed that while his absence from Asgard was public knowledge, it would be a good idea to keep his method of traveling between realms quiet. We’d also decided not to hide ourselves from Heimdall—at least, until we’d entered the forest.

“So, how will your absence be explained?” Loki asked as we flew.

“I won’t be gone for long, officially.” A chuckle vibrated through my body. “An illusion of me went with Aizerue and Malalik into the Bifrost chamber to report home about Tyr’s execution. When they get to Nastrond, one of our stand-ins will be grafted with the Aesir form I used and brought back in my place. I’d be very surprised if anybody who wasn’t told about the switch noticed any difference.”

He was silent for a while, and although I was curious what he was thinking I couldn’t see his aura, and didn’t want to disturb his thoughts. I didn’t mind the quiet, as I was enjoying the flight, the first chance I’d had to stretch my wings over any real distance for some time.

“I feel…” He took a deep breath, then laughed a little. “Confused,” he continued. “I don’t really know who I am any more. All my life, I’ve followed this path… with some side ventures, yes, but they didn’t change the thread of knowing who I was, what I was going to be, what my relationship was to the most important people in my life. In the last handful of days, all of that has been entirely upended, in ways that I never could have imagined even a month ago.”

I couldn’t help a sinking sense of responsibility for his turmoil, which of course he immediately felt through the link I’d given him. His hand stroked my neck in a soothing gesture. “Never imagine that you didn’t do the right thing,” he said firmly. “You gave me the truth, and my freedom. I don’t know what I would have become if I’d stayed on that path, but I cannot help the feeling that it would not have ended well or happily for me.”

My spirit soared as I brought us down to land among the great trees on the outskirts of the Svartald. He slid off my back and I shifted into my Aesir guard form, possibly for the last time. Loki took my hand, grinning up at me, and I smiled back. He kissed the back of my hand, eyes dancing, and we set off into the forest, finding a new path to follow.

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On an airless asteroid, somewhere in the endless void of space, a haggard blond figure kneels among gray dust and stones. “I know where it is,” he says, staring at the rocky ground. “My father’s ally found it, but was not able to take it from where it is held. Give me power, and I will take it from them and bring it to you.”

“And why would you do this for us, son of Tyr?” hisses the cowled person that stands over him.

Ragnar looks up, eyes sunken and cheeks hollow in his once round face. His expression is full of pain and anger. “Tyr, the rightful king of Asgard, promised me the throne as my heritage, and that—mongrel, Loki, stole it from me and threw me away before murdering my father. I want my birthright. And I want Loki… to pay.”

The shadowed creature looks over its shoulder, up a long flight of stairs, to another immense figure sitting on a huge throne. A craggy gray face turns and looks down at Ragnar. “Bring me the tesseract, and you shall have all that you desire,” a voice rumbles that vibrates through the tiny sphere.