Chapter Text
Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties
1
Loki panted as he ducked behind one of the few remaining statues that hadn’t been blasted apart. Couching low he took the time to catch his breath, only to mutter a curse as the head of what he thought was once a Light Elf of Alfheim, suspended in stone form as they strummed a harp, was sent careening from its pedestal to land somewhere in the wide open lawn that made up one small portion of the Queen’s gardens.
Diving aside, Loki summoned his seidr, ready to retaliate with a blast of his own. Knees bent and ready he turned to see nothing, only the numerous beautiful flowers that created twisting patterns in the soil beds which lined the lawn. A hand caressed the back of his neck, along with a sting of a mild electric spell. Loki yelped.
“Always watch your rear Loki. Someone will always be coming up behind you.”
“Mother,” the groan at the long familiar lecture only had his Mother laughing. Dropping his pulsing seidr Loki turned to look up at Frigga. The Queen of Asgard was not dressed in her usual regal attire. Gone were the usual white silks and gold brocade, instead she wore simple brown leathers and light gold armour. He could see the glint of small daggers, sharpened to perfection strapped to a belt at her waist. While her hair was twisted up, so it sat on her head in a weave of delicate braids.
It had been quite a shock to Loki when his Mother had first begun his serious instruction in battle seidr one Midgardian year ago. He had never seen his Mother in anything other than her court finest. Seeing her as dressed as a warrior had been quiet the image to digest and if he was being brutally honest, he might have underestimated her. But now, after months of being on the receiving end of his Mother’s skill, power and cunning, he could understand why his Father always ended up agreeing with her.
Loki pouted in the face of his Mother’s amusement. “It’s not fair, you always manage to sneak up behind me.”
“You will learn with more experience, my son. Though I do hope you wait a couple more centuries before you burden me with more grey hairs.”
Loki looked away sheepishly. His Mother always took the opportunity, no matter how subtle, to remind him of his trip to Midgard. It was hard to believe it had been on year ago, by Midgardian time that is. Of course, the Young Prince didn’t look as though he had aged a day, but inside he knew was a different story. His fear and uncertainty over his Jotun roots didn’t plague his thoughts, he knew that his family and friends accepted him and for now, that was enough. His place within his family was assured, he was confident in his parents and brother’s love for him and it gave him stability and confidence he didn’t realise he lacked.
“Another round?” Loki asked. Frigga shook her head.
“Unfortunately not. Your Father has asked that I attend the Council of Nine this afternoon and I do not think they would be prepared to see their Queen like this.”
Loki sniggered, remembering the look on his Father’s face when his Mother had come down to breakfast in her leathers for their first lesson. Odin had gaped at her, shocked, before he had gathered himself enough to rush to his feet and pull out his Queen’s chair, his eyes never once leaving her, not even when he spilled porridge down his front.
“They would be terrified,” Loki said to which Frigga smiled warmly before it sunk away to be replaced with a far more uncertain look.
“We are to go over the final plans for when the delegation is to arrive.”
“The Jotunheim delegation?” Loki asked, making sure to keep the tremble out of his voice.
“Yes, my son. Are you sure you -?”
“I want to be here,” Loki said stubbornly.
“I know, I know, but are you sure you want to be at the initial meeting. You don’t have to face them now if you do not wish to.”
Loki bit his lip, even though he had come to accept he was Jotun, or Jotgardian as Thor liked to say, it was another thing to come to terms that he had been left to die as an infant.
It had been something which he had pushed to the back of his mind before. When Odin had told him the story, two years ago now in the weapons vault, the circumstances of his Father finding him had gone over his head. But now, two years on, with more time to process the news he had come to realise that he hadn’t just been left there by accident.
A light touch on his arm had Loki startled, but he didn’t protest as he was pulled into a gentle hug. He was stiff a moment before he relaxed into his Mother’s embrace, enjoying the way her fingers carded through his hair.
“It seems I lost you to your thoughts,” she said softly. “Care to share them?”
Loki breathed in the familiar comforting scent of his Mother, allowing it to sooth his mind. “It’s nothing.”
“Loki.”
“It’s nothing bad,” he reiterated. “Just … I’m nervous.”
“That is fine.”
“I want to see them. I think I need to, but I just keep remembering … remembering …”
Frigga squeezed him tighter and Loki was grateful. He still couldn’t shake the vision of Laufey out of his mind. Ready to cut him down.
It was something that he still had trouble processing, that the being that had been so ready to kill him in his parent’s bedchamber two Midgardian years ago was his sire. Someone he could have, maybe in another life, called Father. He was the son of King Laufey of Jotunheim, now dead at the hands of the traitor Erling, ex-Speaker of the Council of Nine, himself now dead after his attempt of a coup on the royal family of Asgard. Loki had researched a little on Jotun’s, Eir had made it part of what she called his recovery and his Mother had made sure to hand him books that were accurate and didn’t contain any victory propaganda that sometimes littered certain historical texts on Asgard. But after the events of last year. Finally stopping Amora, working with the Midgardians, the Avengers, to stop her invasion of their realm, Loki had done some of his own digging, especially into his sire.
The reading had been difficult to swallow. Laufey was a warrior king, much like Odin in his youth, descended from Ymir, the Jotuns ancient ancestor. He’d ruled with an iron fist, glorifying strength and power, though the other realms praised far more the Jotuns jewellery, gems and craftsmanship. Many had commissioned Jotuns to design and create many delicate works for them, one even a palace. But Laufey had a thirst to expand the glorious Jotun empire further than their realms boarders. Of course, Loki was well aware how that panned out and the destruction of Jotunheim in the war that followed was Laufey’s price for his pride. That was where the books became murky and the once praised artistry of the Jotuns was lost to memory. Though in all of his readings, Loki had yet to come across any mentions of Jotuns as small in stature as he. There were brief recordings of Jotuns that didn’t reach average height, though still towered over most of the other peoples of the Nine realms. Or those that were taller. They were spoken of in awe for their strength and speed. But none about small Jotuns.
Frigga pulled him closer. “I know my darling. I cannot understand fully how you must feel. But I hope you do not think that all Jotuns are the same as Laufey.”
“It is his son who is coming, isn’t it?” Loki hadn’t meant to sound so sarcastic, but he couldn’t help it.
Once Laufey had been killed, Jotunheim had descended into civil war. It was something that all the other realms had not seen coming. The line of succession had been clear. Laufey had left two sons, the eldest around Thor’s age, the other not much younger. Both fully grown and fully capable of taking the throne.
Frigga tugged his hair. “I think you know better than that, my son. Besides, the new king, Helblindi may be Laufey’s son, but it seems he does not share his Father’s more volatile attitude. Why else would he want to come to Asgard with a delegation?”
Loki sighed; it was true. The civil war had not been about the succession. Laufey, though not a popular king among the mass populace of his realm had many supporters in his court. From what Loki could understand the Jotun court was made up of Jarls, each owning and governing their own land and who swore fealty to the next ruler of Jotunheim upon their succession. Though the monarch didn’t necessarily need the endorsement of the Jarls to rule it guaranteed stability for the realm as a whole, even if it wouldn’t save them from the Jarls scheming. Loki had seen and heard his Father complain of the Lords in his own court not to realise that there were manipulators in the upper echelons of every realm.
Especially when it came to those who curried a Kings favour. On Jotunheim those Jarls whom the King liked got favours, such as less tax, more money for reconstruction and easier access to food supplies in winter. While those that weren’t were left on the fringes, working together or alone in order to survive what came at them.
The Jarls that were behind Laufey felt that Helblindi was not fit to be King and had not sworn fealty when he was crowned. According to some Helblindi had tried to reason with them, a far more diplomatic approach than what his Sire would have done. The messengers had come back slaughtered and Helblindi had had no choice but to declare war.
It had been brutal, the king’s younger brother, Bylister, had been slain and many Jotuns were killed. But in the end Helblindi had routed the decentres and secured his place on the throne. Which was why it came as such a surprise that the first thing he announced upon the civil wars end was his wish for a delegation to come to Asgard. The first since before the Great War, long before Loki was born.
Loki mumbled something agreeable into Frigga’s chest, which got him one final hair tweak before she pulled away.
“I must best get going darling. You know how the Councils twittering irritates your Father if he is left alone with them too long.” Loki giggled, and Frigga smiled, reaching out with her hand to take Loki’s wrist.
Loki winced as he felt seidr run through his system. It was soft and light, his Mother’s seidr would never hurt him, but it caused his own to coil and hiss as it was restricted and black lines, like a tattoo emblazoned themselves on his skin. It reminded Loki of the patterns he saw when the Ancient One cast her seidr, but finer, more delicate, just like all his Mother’s seidr was.
She eyed it critically. “Is there any pain?”
“No, but I don’t like it.”
“You should have thought about that when you went off and nearly got yourself killed,” Frigga said, and Loki hung his head. He knew that his punishment could have been a lot worse for what he did. Running away, getting involved in an invasion. Having his seidr restricted, though irritating and cause his seidr hum under his skin like a swarm of angry bees, was the least at what could have been done to him.
“I know, Mother. I’m sorry.”
Frigga nodded, running her fingers over the marks one last time. Then she bent and kissed his head before turning to walk back through the gardens and towards the palace.
Loki stayed for a moment longer, allowing the little seidr he still had access to, to calm before he finally couldn’t ignore the time and returned to the palace himself.
The Queen’s gardens could only be accessed through Frigga’s private quarters. She shared a bedchamber with her husband the King, but she had her own lounge, sitting room and study. The first of those rooms was what Loki walked into, through the wall length arch ways, which were protected by seidr to keep out the elements.
“H…how was your t…training P…Prince Loki?”
Loki sighed, “I told you before, just to call me Loki, Leif.”
“B…but -?”
Loki smiled in fond exasperation as he looked upon his Valet. Leif had grown taller since their journey to Midgard, having put on muscle with the training Loki had made sure he had received, even when Leif had protested. Loki had not been swayed however, Leif was a natural with a sword and his eye for terrain and maps was something that should be cultivated. Tyr had been especially impressed when Loki, after suffering another harsh spear lesson with the old General, had shoved Leif in front of him with a map and ran. With that Leif had a valuable ally in his corner and Tyr was not a man who would leave talent alone. It gave Loki vindictive pleasure to see his Valet return from a lesson sweaty but elated.
But even with all the opportunities opening before him Leif refused to leave his position as Loki’s Valet. It made something warm curl in Loki’s chest, something that months ago he would only have associated with his family. It was truly strange, but it was nice to have a friend. That in itself was still such a foreign word. Loki had not really had any friends. With the noble children, few as there were, their interest had never truly been to be his friend, only wishing to use him to further their own ambitions, or their families plans. With Leif, Loki knew with certainty that the boy wanted nothing but his companionship and it was something Loki cherished.
Finally taking pity, Loki cut off Leif’s indignant stuttering to ask about the days schedule as he moved to walk out of the Queen’s quarters and to his own, wanting to change out of his sweaty leathers.
“The K…king and Queen will be in the Council m…meeting for the remainder of the afternoon,” Leif said as he walked a pace behind Loki, much to the Young Prince’s irritation, but Leif was not one to be bending protocol that much, at least not where the rest of the staff could see and report it to his Mother. He fumbled with the parchment he kept in the top pocket of his tunic. Loki grinned as he glanced back, catching sight of his household symbol in pride of place on Leif’s breast pocket. Silver stitching glinted in the sun, finely sewn into the shape of two snakes twisting around each other so that they swallowed the others tail, creating an S shape. “You have t…time for lunch, then lessons.”
Loki groaned which made Leif giggle. Sending his friend a smirk, he sighed. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”
“Indeed not my P…Prince.”
The pair made it to Loki’s quarters, Leif opening the door so that Loki could enter his own small sitting room, that would lead off to his bedchamber and bathroom. Loki crossed to one of the small couches and flung himself across it.
“Sure you don’t want to run off into town again?” he asked slyly as Leif closed the door. “I’ll say it was all my idea?”
“We shouldn’t r…risk it,” Leif squeaked. “Not after l…last time.”
“It was exciting.”
“The K…King shouted at u…us.”
“He does that.”
“He’s scary,” Leif shook his head. “I t…thought he would s…smite me when you came back with a twisted a…ankle.”
Loki grimaced, that had been his own fault. He had managed to convince Leif to sneak away into town instead of going to lessons one afternoon two months ago. It had been amazing, running around with the regular populace of Asgard, seeing what it was like to live on the streets of their realm. No one had bothered them, thanks to Loki’s seidr he’d been able to disguise them easily enough. But as they had wandered through the market, Loki had spotted a pair of unscrupulous looking characters. They’d hovered by one of the stalls, making sure to pick up plenty of items, but buy nothing. As he watched one pick up a large gold vase, distracting the vendor by asking a question, he saw the other reach out and snatch some of the jewellery on the other end of the stall, slipping it into his pocket.
Loki had reacted on instinct, shouting out and casting a freeze spell at the thief who still had a hand in his pocket. The other, completely surprised by the sudden turn of events turned, only to be confront by Loki, who was running over, ignoring Leif’s shouts and the agitated crowd. Seeing his partners frozen state, he’d done the only thing he could think of, throw the vase right at Loki. Loki had been so focused on catching the thief that he didn’t register the vase until it hit him in the chest. It had rocked his balance, but not as much as when it fell to the ground and Loki’s legs had tangled with it. Loki had felt his ankle twist, it sent a rush of pain through him, which was enough to dislodge his spells, one that kept the thief frozen and the other on his and Leif’s appearance.
In the end, the crowd had been so shocked at the sudden appearance of their Young Prince that the two thieves got away. While Loki ended up with a twisted ankle and a lecture from his Father on sneaking off and avoiding responsibility.
“Well, it might not have ended as I hoped.” Leif snorted and Loki shrugged. “At least Eir and Sigyn won’t be here to make it worse this time.”
“They healed y…your ankle.”
“After they both laughed and made sure to tell me how stupid I was,” Loki pouted. If he was being honest being carried into the healing hall and being left at the mercy of Sigyn and Eir had been the worst part of the whole experience.
“W…when will they r…return?” Leif asked.
“Not until at least another three months,” Loki said. Both boys shared a sad smile, though really, they should be happy for their friend. Sigyn was a Healers Apprentice, or more specifically she was Eir’s, the Head Healer’s, Apprentice. She had shared in the boy’s adventure to Midgard and was now one of Loki’s few friend, even if she was bossy and could be highly annoying at times. But she was loyal and would always have his back in a fight. A month ago, Eir had requested if she could take a short retreat to Vanaheim, to brush up on new healing techniques and check on a few former Apprentices. Loki’s Father, the King, had granted it and Loki had at first been pleased to get rid of the old battle axe, that is until he realised that Sigyn was going with her.
Of course, the girl had been thrilled, already excited to visit the healing halls of Vanaheim and see new, experimental healing spells up close. Loki had tried to be happy for her, never showing his upset. Even on the day she left he made sure to smile. He would miss her and didn’t want her to go, but he needed to be happy for his friend. But it hurt, especially since she couldn’t write to them. Luckily Eir sent reports to his Mother and Loki was well aware where Sigyn was and by the sounds of it, she was having the time of her life.
“We should get r…ready for your lessons this afternoon, Prince Loki,” Leif said. “Y…you will be able to join your p…parents for the evening meal.”
Loki nodded and stretched, easing out the kinks in his back. Then he retreated to the bathing chamber, striping off his clothes so he could enjoy a hot soak before returning to the grind of lessons.
***
Loki was already eating when both his parents arrived for their traditional family meal. Loki made sure to smile when his Mother kissed his cheek and scowl when his Father ruffled his hair when he stood to greet them.
Odin laughed as Loki swatted his hand away, pulling out his Queen’s chair before taking his own seat. Loki huffed as he sat back down, pulling his plate before him to pile with a collection of meats, bread and cheeses that had been laid out by the servants.
“How were your lessons today, my son?” Odin asked.
“They were fine, Master Davyn says that I’m almost ready to move onto the higher-level equations.”
“Ah, mathematics,” Odin sighed. “I never was really able to wrap my head around them, especially at your age.”
“Too busy taking blows to the head on the training ground.”
“Frigga,” Odin groaned as Loki and his Mother laughed. Odin continued to moan, but Loki could see the humour behind it. He enjoyed when his family could be like this, relaxed and carefree, away from the rigors of royal life. Though his smile dipped as he caught sight of the empty seat across from him.
“Have you heard at all from Thor?” he asked.
“You know that getting communication is difficult,” Odin said.
“I know, but he is still on Vanaheim is he not?”
Thor had been away from Asgard for a few months now. To be honest he had left not long after they had all returned from Midgard. With the invasion and the Bifrost still not completely repaired, the Nine realms had suffered instability. Dark factions which had been lurking beneath the surface of many realms had seen, with Asgard cut off and unable to send support to many of the realms, as a time to strike. Marauders and would be conquers had sprung up across the Nine and Asgard had had to respond.
Luckily the Bifrost was in such a state that it could be used, but sparingly. Thor, with his new responsibilities, had taken it upon himself to stop the fighting, which was rapidly spreading across the realms. Odin had agreed and Thor, along with Frandral and surprisingly Sif, Hogan and Volstagg, had been sent along with a battalion to stop the fighting, by any means necessary.
Loki had not been happy when it had first been announced, but he had swiftly been put in his place by his Father, Mother and Thor himself.
“I am the Crown Prince,” Thor had said as he held his little brother close as they said goodbye at the Bifrost bridge. “It is my duty to care for all of the Nine. I cannot hide from that responsibility anymore.”
Loki had wished with all his heart that he could have found an argument to that statement, but it was impossible, and everyone knew it. Thor was to be King of Asgard and with that role came the responsibility of guarding and nurturing all of the Nine realms. For years Thor had downplayed the role, only believing in the glory that being King would bring him and the battles he would fight. Loki was proud that his brother was finally taking his role seriously and with a measure of wisdom, but that didn’t mean he liked his brother being away for so long.
“Aye, he is,” Odin said, taking a bite of his bread and slowly chewing. Loki jittered in his seat as he waited for his Father to speak more. Odin looked at him and raised his remaining eyebrow. “Yes Loki?”
“Father.”
“Stop teasing the boy, Odin,” Frigga huffed, but a smile played around her own lips.
“You have to ruin all of my fun, don’t you dear.”
“That is what a wife is for,” she said, then turned to Loki. “Thor has sent a letter, it arrived during the afternoon Council session. He says that the last of the marauders on Vanaheim have been dealt with and he will be coming home.”
Loki blinked, then jumped up from his seat happily, though his action up ended his plate, sending it to the floor. It only being saved from a broken fate by Frigga’s quick use of seidr so it floated, along with the food stuffs just above the floor.
“Loki,” Odin started to scold, but Loki ignored him, leaning over the table towards his Mother.
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Frigga said, her seidr directing the plate and food back to the table. Once down she sent an annoyed look to her over eager son. Loki quickly quailed and sat back down with a sheepish grin. “Heimdall will bring them back through the Bifrost. Fortunately, it is in much better repair than when he left, so it should be easily done.
“His timing is fortunate,” Odin said. “The Jotun delegation will be arriving the day after; it will be good to have the extra support in case things go astray.”
Loki stiffened and Frigga sent Odin a reproachful look. The old King hesitated under his wife’s glare and turned to his son in concern. “Not that they will. I am sure that the Jotun’s have nothing but peaceful intentions. I only meant that having Thor here would allow us to face this as a family. All of us together.”
Loki swallowed, mustering up a smile. “Right, of course.”
Neither Odin nor Frigga appeared convinced by his show of confidence and he was sure his Mother would be having words with him again later when she came to bid him goodnight.
“Do you think we will be able to go and greet Thor when he arrives tomorrow?” Loki asked in a hope to change the topic.
“I don’t see why not,” Frigga mused, looking to her husband, who grimaced.
“I’m afraid I will have to miss it. More meetings are scheduled, the Council seem determined to keep me pinned to the throne room.”
“Then Loki and I can go,” Frigga smiled and Loki returned it. “It will be good for Thor to be greeted by his family upon his return.”
“Be sure to remind the boy he is to come to the throne room to give his report,” Odin said. “I swear he purposefully forgets.”
“You’re one to talk Odin. Why I remember you deliberately avoiding your Father for five days so you wouldn’t have to explain why your men were missing most of their armour as they had shed it to flee from a rampaging dragon on Alfheim.”
“Frigga!”
Loki giggled as he watched his parents tease each other. It would be good for Thor to finally return; he had missed his brother. And he couldn’t help but feel a little more secure with the knowledge that Thor would be here when the Jotun’s arrived. Just in case.
***
The next morning, Loki got up and washed with the help of Leif, who then escorted him to a quick breakfast with his Mother, before disappearing to attend to his other numerous duties. The Valet had been pleased to hear about Thor’s return, apparently his brother’s household staff were already preparing for his arrival and it was causing quiet the uproar with the servants. Especially with all if their demands that the kitchen make all of Thor’s favourite dishes at every meal.
Loki enjoyed the time with his Mother, Odin having already eaten earlier. Once done they set off together with a small escort of einherjar, to the Bifrost. They had stopped off at the stables to claim their horses first. Loki’s mare Aster had grown quite a bit and Loki needed a little boost in order to get upon her back. Frigga’s horse was pure white, with shiny black hoofs that stood out as they made their way through the central city of Asgard and towards the Bifrost. Loki enjoyed the trip, watching and taking in the sights and smells of a part of Asgard that he rarely got to experience. Of course, he’d come into town before, Frigga had always made it a point for them to come and mingle with the people at festivals and during large markets. But in recent years, with Loki spending more time in lessons and Thor fully grown, they had not been able to come to town as often. It probably explained why Loki enjoyed sneaking down with Leif, when he could convince his Valet they would get away with it. He missed the buzz and excitement of it all.
Some folk waved at them as they passed, others stared in awe. Loki watched with a warm smile as his Mother waved and smiled. Loki knew that his Mother was beloved by most of the people of Asgard, and he completely understood why. She was kind, regal and always did what she thought was best for her people. He’d heard some of the older folk whisper that it was her that had tempered Odin when he was young. That she had set him on the path to become the King he was today. Loki didn’t truly understand what they had meant, nor why they had appeared so frightened when some of the children had tried to probe further, quickly changing the subject. But Loki could understand what they meant by his Mother’s influence on his Father. He wasn’t sure what his Father would do without her.
Their party arrived and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Loki, even with his seidr repressed could still feel the sheer power within the construction. It had been fully repaired, nearly two years after it had been blasted apart during the coup and Loki could feel where the new seidr joined with the more ancient veins that made up the Bifrost.
The void beckoned, black and foreboding beneath them, and Loki was grateful when they made it to the observatory.
“Please wait out here and take care of the horses,” Frigga said as she dismounted. Loki was quick to do the same, not wanting to have to get help from one of the einherjar, who looked ready to pluck him from his saddle. He slipped down Asters side, giving her a pat and murmur of thanks. Loki crossed to his Mother, who tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear before turning and walking into the observatory.
“Your Majesty, Prince Loki, welcome.”
“Many thanks Heimdall,” Frigga nodded regally to the Gatekeeper. Loki sent Heimdall a cheeky wave, which only earned him an impassive golden stare. Heimdall had been Gatekeeper of the Bifrost long before Loki or even Thor were born. He was tall with ebony skin and the gold all seeing eyes that watched over the Nine realms. His large sword horfund was strapped to his back and was the key to the Bifrost. Loki knew Heimdall was responsible for sounding the alarm if Asgard was attacked and was one of the first lines of defence for the realm. Loki had never seen Heimdall fight, but then again, there had never been any invasions of Asgard in centuries and with their power he doubted that there would be.
“Can you see Thor,” Loki asked as the Mother and Son pair came closer. Heimdall’s lips twitched upwards a little at Loki’s eagerness. His face turned blank and after a few silent moments he said.
“Indeed, he and his closest are getting ready to call.”
“Will the Bifrost be able to bring the whole of the battalion back at once?” Frigga questioned.
“It should, my Queen,” Heimdall said. “The repairs have been completed and I must say that the Bifrost is working better than it had before. I sense your handy work with the improvements.”
“I simply added to the great work of better seidr users than I,” Frigga waved a hand airily. “We should always try to build upon the past in order to help ourselves grow.”
Heimdall suddenly stiffened. “Prince Thor calls. Please step back.”
Frigga took Loki’s shoulder and urged him away. Heimdall crossed to a large console, taking hofund from his back and slotting it into place. Carefully he turned the sword, which opened a swirling portal of seidr on the other side of the room.
Loki watched it carefully, waiting with bated breath as Heimdall finished directing the Bifrost. Suddenly a bright light engulfed the room before it vanished and five Asgardians were stood in the observatory.
“Mother! Loki! ‘Tis good to see you both!”
“Thor!” Loki called waving his hand, though his gesture was eclipsed by Thor, who had strode across the distance between them and swept his little brother up into a fierce hug.
“Thor! Put me down.” Loki, even as he protested still allowed himself to indulge in his brother’s scent. A mixture of ozone and rain, with a tint of hot ground after a summer rainfall.
Thor laughed and finally placed Loki down. It still irked Loki that he still had to look up to his brother, though he was grateful it wasn’t as much as he used to. Thor’s long blonde locks were still the same, though appeared sweaty and run through with dirt. Two braids sat at Thor’s temples, keeping his hair out of his eyes. The familiar silver armour looked battered, along with Thor’s signature red clock, though Mjolnir shone as bright as ever. Even though his clothes, as worn as they were, appeared to be the same, Loki could see a profound difference in his brother’s face. Not in age, it would be a few centuries more before Thor’s features altered, but his eyes, while still bright and sparking with power were aged with wisdom that hadn’t been there before.
A large hand landed on Loki’s head and ruffled his hair playfully.
“I would almost say you hadn’t missed me, little brother,” Thor said, his smile still visible behind his beard, which was in the immediate need of a trim.
“Of course not,” Loki huffed, but it wasn’t long before his sour look was replaced by a cheeky grin of his own.
Thor laughed and turned to kiss their Mother. Frigga accepted the gesture regally, then pulled her eldest into a fierce hug of her own, whispering in his ear in a voice so low Loki had no hope of hearing. Before he could edge closer to see if he could eavesdrop a booming voice called out towards him.
“Well, who would have believed it. Is that the little Prince I see before me?”
Even as he scowled at the nickname, Loki couldn’t help but feel a hint of warmth. “Fandral,” he called lifting a hand to the golden hair warrior that was sauntering over. Fandral was a small man, quick with a sword as well as his wit. He had always been one of Loki’s favourite members of his brother’s friends, The Warriors Three. Laughing at Loki’s pranks and even on occasions joining in with his jokes. Loki studied the man as he came before him now. He was bigger, not in height but in the strength of his shoulders, built from the continuous fighting at Thor’s side. Facial hair crowned the top of his lip, and a scruff covered his jaw, giving him a rugged appearance. A far cry from the stylish man that was known for gracing the bed of many a lady.
He sketched out a bow and Loki couldn’t help but laugh as he spoke. “Truly, I am blessed to be in your presence. Why I hardly recognised you.”
“And I you, Fandral,” Loki said with a smirk. “I never thought I would see the day I would see you so haggard. The ladies will be sorely disappointed.”
“You mock me, good sir,” Fandral placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “The ladies will have surely missed me. There letters of love must be piled high, waiting desperately for my reply.”
“Only in your dreams.”
“You are so harsh.”
“You should know better than to tease the Master of Mischief himself Fandral. Though I must say the boy is looking mighty fine. A warrior in the making if I do say so myself.”
“You ruin all my fun, Volstagg,” Fandral pouted, which only made Volstagg laugh. Loki glanced passed Fandral to see Volstagg, a large man, whose impressive bulk was known across the realms, as well as his appetite. He was an older Asgardian, having nearly a century on Thor and more so on Fandral in age. His red hair and large beard were bright in the lights of the observatory, along with his axe which was slung across his back.
“Thank you Volstagg, I am glad someone can tell that I am no longer a boy,” he sent a petulant glare at his Mother and Thor, who laughed, Fandral along with them.
“I can tell a growing boy when I see one,” Volstagg said, bowing before Loki before doing the same with the Queen. “‘Tis good to see you looking so well my Prince.”
Loki smiled; he had no real issues with Volstagg. The man was kind and when Loki was younger was the best at being able to keep him entertained, though that mostly came from having children of his own. Volstagg’s only true detriment was that he was easily led and had a tendency to still treat Loki like a child on occasion, though he was pleased to note that that seemed to be changing.
“Can you please stop making such fools of yourselves, we are before the royal family.” The clipped words had Loki stiffening on reflex.
“Ah, Sif. You always have to be such a sour puss,” Fandral teased, but Loki noted the way the golden-haired warrior placed himself close to Loki as the final two members of the group made their way over.
Loki recognised Hogan, a quiet man who originally hailed from Vanaheim. His dark hair and solemn nature made it difficult for Loki to get a true reading of the man’s intentions, which was something that always bothered Loki. But from what he could glean, Loki had the impression that the Vanir found Loki tiresome and found it easy to ignore him. The fierce warrior woman at his side however was a different story.
Sif was not someone Loki thought he would see again. During the coup Amora had used the animosity she felt towards him to manipulate her, so much so that she had tried to kill him when he had managed to make it to Midgard to warn Thor of the plot against their family. Luckily Fandral and Thor had stepped in, but Odin had not taken it well once word had gotten back to him of the incident. All of Thor’s companions had been punished for their actions of desertion during the coup. Being split amongst the Asgardian forces and placed under the command of some of Odin’s toughest task masters. It was an action that seemed to have worked in most cases, and Loki could see the mark of Sif’s post clearly.
Her long dark hair had been cut short, no longer flowing down her back, but styled around her face so that it would not get in her way as she fought. Her leathers and armour were the most well kept out of the lot of them, her sword sheathed at her belt which Loki eyed warily. Though he couldn’t help but be surprised when she bowed low to him, her eyes not meeting his as she spoke.
“My Prince, you are looking well,” she said it simply, before turning to Thor and Frigga and extending the same courtesy to the Queen, as was proper.
Loki watched in shock, barely nodding his head when Hogan gave his bow and Thor, having taken their Mother’s hand began to move them out of the observatory, after some brief instructions to Heimdall about the return of the battalion.
“Not what you were expecting?” the quiet mutter pulled Loki from his shock and he turned to raise an eyebrow at Fandral.
“What happened to her?”
“Northern Border patrol,” Fandral stated flatly. “It’s a harsh assignment.”
Loki gaped, Fandral was being modest. The Northern Border patrol was the furthest regiment from the central city of Asgard. It was a dangerous place, full of savage beasts and marauders from other realms trying to sneak into the golden realm. It was headed by General Bjørn, an Asgardian known for his great strength, but also his fierce loyalty to the royal family. It’s said he had once been a common farm boy, the youngest of seven brothers. He’d been forced to leave his family farm once he was old enough, the land titled to only the oldest brother and like his other five brothers had been told to find his own way. He’d headed for the central city of Asgard, where he had entered the guard patrol, one of the few regiments that common folk can join. He’d distinguished himself, raising through the ranks before finally making the pinnacle, Einherjar, tasked with defending the royal family from any and all attack. He’d served for many years before Odin, then newly crowned King had bestowed upon him the title of General, where they had fought side by side in many battles to protect the Nine. Now he was the General of the Northern Border patrol and respected and feared by many young warriors that had come under his command.
Loki cast a look at Sif, she was standing several paces away from where Thor and Frigga were walking ahead. They had bypassed the horses, Thor telling Loki and Frigga’s escort to bring them along behind. Loki new it was only an excuse for Thor to spend more time with Mother, and Loki didn’t begrudge him that. He’d do the same thing.
“Is General Bjørn truly as fearsome as they say?”
“It would seem so,” Fandral said. “She’s been nothing but differential to Thor during the whole campaign. Not that he’s said anything, your brother has not forgiven Sif for what she tried to do, and I doubt he ever will. The General I think made it clear exactly how out of line she was, and where her place is.”
Loki swallowed, but his eyes continued to watch Sif. It was jarring to see the warrior woman, once so proud and all to ready to sneer at Loki in disgust so formal. Her face a mask of all emotion as she watched the Queen and Crown Prince, eyes constantly roving, on the look out for danger.
“Loki?! Come brother, do not loiter so back there! I am sure Fandral can make do without you!”
Loki startled at Thor’s shout, but was quick to respond. “I am coming!” he grinned at Fandral and waved farewell, before running down the bridge to join Thor and their Mother.