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Himinbjörg, Bifrost Gate
Asgard, 965 CE

The cosmos hung in a spectacular display across the velvet blackness of Asgard's night sky.

Beneath it stood the Observatory, a colossal golden dome formed atop a mountainous platform built directly into the very edge of the world. Its needle reached straight into the heavens, its construction a staggering feat of sorcery and engineering: a fusion of the modern and the arcane.

Equally intimidating was the Gatekeeper who dwelled within, the sentinel god Heimdall. Born of nine mothers, it was said that he was the father of humankind and the architect of Midgard. At his side was Hofund, a sword so formidable that it commanded the energy of the stars. His eyes were so powerful that they beheld the finest details upon a page light years away and witnessed the births of stars, and the subtle wink of black holes across the endless universe as though they were near enough to touch.

He was said to hear things as faint as a blade of grass as it grew, and any Asgardian who found themselves in danger could cry out and be heard, no matter how far away. None were hidden to him, no enemy could sneak up on him, no word was whispered so softly that it could not reach his ears. He was the eternal guardian of Asgard, one of its most feared and respected warriors, entrusted to watch over 10 trillion souls across the vastness of Yggdrasil.

His oath was sworn to none other than the Allfather himself, Odin: the Wise, the Hanged God, the Raven God, the God of the Slain, the son of Borr and Bestla, and the steward of Valhalla.

Odin, King of Asgard.

And today, the Allfather was at war. Heimdall had his amber eyes on him for hours as the scene unfolded worlds away. When the violence on Jotunheim had at last concluded, he dispatched two messengers: one to Eir, advising her to prepare for the incoming wounded; the other to Frigga, so that she may prepare for an arrival of a very different kind.

Odin stood beside a smoldering temple in Útgarðar, his troops gathered and ready to return home. Within his armor was a tiny figure, swaddled and tucked gently against his heart; he laid a careful hand across the secret cargo and raised Gungnir as he looked to the sky with intent. Heimdall plunged Hofund down into the platform's lock, sending fingers of lightning to the walls as it opened the bridge.

A surge of power from beneath the golden palace rocketed through the crystalline plank of the Bifrost, illuminating its entire length on its way to the Observatory. A brilliant glow permeated the entirety of the structure as it powered up, layers of spherical casings spinning within each other with increasing speed as it accumulated energy. The great needle tilted slowly forward within its mechanical groove until it was perfectly parallel with the causeway and filled with light, shooting a wide prismatic beam out into the stars.

The great iris of the Bifrost gate flashed brightly, yawning wide as the first wave of warriors were sent through; the injured and dead carried with haste to the fleet of skiffs awaiting them upon the bridge.

A loud crackle of electrical discharge announced the arrival of Odin. He stepped gracefully into the Observatory, Gungnir in one hand and the other held snugly against his chest. He nodded to Heimdall as he passed by the platform, the remainder of his troops pouring in behind him.

Heimdall dipped his head in return. "Welcome home, my King."

Frigga's chamber was made ready in no time. When Odin's approach was heard in the corridor, the attendants bowed out and awaited her in the sitting room. His weapons and armor had been handed off on his way to her, and he stood before her now in his plain clothes … and a layer of blood and grime.

She drew him close and embraced him with relief, gently cupping a hand around the side of his lacerated face, her brow furrowed with alarm at what had been made of him. He smiled hardily and looked down at the small, wriggling form cradled against his chest. Frigga leaned in close and laid a hand behind the child's head, stroking his face. He was no more than a day old by her estimation and he wailed as she took him, disoriented and frightened.

"Shhh," she whispered gently to the tiny face gazing up at her, soothing him. "He's freezing."

Odin put his arms around her and held them both close. "He was born of frost," he said.

Frigga looked up from the infant. "What happened?"

"We had turned them back from Midgard," Odin said. "Once we were on Jotunheim, we surged the barricades and took the capitol."

"He is so small," she looked down into his bright green eyes and began to gently wipe away the dirt and tears as his crying abated.

"He is small, for one of their offspring." Odin gently touched the child's face, smiling down as tiny fingers grabbed at his.

"Where was he?" Frigga asked.

"After the worst of the fighting had subsided, we pressed forward into the temple," Odin said. "We procured the Casket and I stepped farther inside, into the ritual chamber. Those who had not been killed had fled, leaving him hidden behind the altar."

"The altar?" Her eyes widened at this, and she looked at him with dread and a question that she dared not speak: What have you done?

The nursery was silent but for the sound of Thor's light snoring.

Odin approached quietly, watching his youngest --- no, now his second youngest --- as he slept peacefully. His hair was everywhere, his mouth open and drooling into his pillow, his limbs flung every which way. One of his feet was hanging off the side of his baby bed and missing its sock.

In the thousands of years he had spent raising and knowing children, Odin had never seen a child who slept like such a wreck. He smiled and shook his head as he gently tucked Thor's foot back up where it belonged and laid his blanket back over him. He paused to look down at his own hands, battered and encrusted with blood and muck, as they hovered over the form of his innocent son.

All shall be at peace now, for you. For both of you.

He leaned down and kissed Thor's forehead before slipping out.

Frigga smiled down at the tiny yawning face in her arms as she tucked his blanket snugly around him and held his hand between her fingers. After a long and difficult night of diligent care, he was clean, warm, and fed. She whispered poems and blessings and careful spellwork over him as he drifted back to sleep.

She looked up as Odin approached the bed and sat down. Eir had personally treated and healed most of his wounds, and he had washed the war from his skin and hair; the blood and death lingering only in his mind.

She winced as she touched his face where it was still healing with Eir's magic. "I am thankful to have you home."

He turned his head and laid his other cheek against her palm, leaning in to wrap an arm around her. "I am glad to be back." He kissed her softly.

A faint snore rose from the infant between them.

"And how is he?" Odin asked, smiling and gently taking his tiny hand.

"We will need to be vigilant about it, but I think he will recover over the next few days. I see a strong will within this child," she said, turning to regard her husband. "Just like someone else I know."

Odin feigned innocence.

The infant's hand twitched against his, curling absently around his thumb.

Frigga wrapped her fingers across both of their hands and laid her head onto Odin's shoulder. "And what shall we call him?"

Odin considered this for a moment, and gave a roguish smile.

"Loki," he said, and leaned down to kiss his son's forehead goodnight.

The Nursery, Palace Private Rooms

Asgard, 965 CE

The morning sun came creeping across the floor and onto Thor's little bed, finding him facedown and backwards in it. His feet had long ago sent his pillow to the floor, along with half of his blankets. When the brightness on his eyelids finally roused him from sleep, he pushed himself up from his bedding and squinted as he swiped a hand across his mouth to wipe away drool.

Mornings were always so bright.

He was quite a vision: his blonde curls were crushed flat up one side and wild with static on the other, his sleeping shirt on backwards, his pajama bottoms bunched up above both of his calves, his socks long gone. He had spent the past month stubbornly climbing out of his crib and tumbling to freedom every night, eventually refusing to even go into it anymore.

Having a little bed just like his parents made him a Big Boy now, even if he still tumbled out of it all the time. He was tall for nearly two years old but was still learning balance -- as evidenced by the loud thump of his graceless exit from the bed to the floor, where he remained for a few more minutes after pulling his blanket down with him and wrapping himself back up in it.

He lay sleepily in his dimly lit cocoon of bedding, the cold of the floor seeping through his bedclothes and nudging him awake. He stared under his bed at the silhouettes of a few toys and an apparent hoard of missing socks as he contemplated his thoughts; he remembered feeling upset as he fell asleep the night before, because Father hadn't been there to read to him and Mother looked worried when she did so herself. He had wanted to hug Father goodnight, and it frustrated him that no one would tell him why he couldn't.

The nursery door opened and he watched through the underside of his bed as a pair of feet padded into the nursery. The shoes were soft and colorful; they were not Father's, nor were they Mother's.

"Thor?" a young woman's voice said. It was Sjöfn, his favorite of Mother's attendants. She stepped quietly around the foot of the bed and Thor ducked inside his blanket to hide, giggling silently to himself.

Sjöfn stood before the piled bedding, hands on her hips, a knowing smile upon her gentle face. Sticking out from one side of the pile were two very dirty little feet, and a faint breathing could be heard from within it. She cleared her throat.

"Where is Thor this morning? Oh! Perhaps he has escaped out the window!" she declared, crouching slowly as her hands hovered above Thor's pile of blankets. Within them, Thor held perfectly still and grinned at his clever hiding place. After a long silence, Sjöfn plunged her hands into the layers and found Thor's sides, tickling them furiously. He wiggled and exploded in laughter as he pulled down the blanket to see her.

"Good morning, little prince!" Her face beamed in the sunlight as she picked him up and set him upon her hip. "Are we ready for the day?"

"Hun-gwee," Thor declared.

"I expect you would be, as someone who does so much in his sleep!" she said, glancing around at the chaos surrounding his bed. She looked back at him and laughed playfully at his disheveled hair and backwards shirt. "Let's get you cleaned up for breakfast."

"Papa?" Thor asked, his voice growing uneasy.

"Papa is home again, and resting. But by the time we've finished, he will be awake and ready to see you!" she reassured him as they headed toward the washroom. "And today brings a special surprise as well, so let's be quick!"

Thor tilted his head curiously. "Suh-pise?"

Sjöfn nodded sweetly as they left the mess of the nursery behind for the morning.

Odin awoke just as night began to fade from the sky, and he rose to gaze out at the sunrise from the balcony.

It was colder than usual for the season, and he tightened his outer layers before leaning against the ledge. The winter solstice was only days away, though it would undoubtedly be a more somber affair this year. Reports of the day's casualties had spread quickly throughout Asgard. Though not nearly as many this time around, he knew that Frigga deeply felt the pain of her people, grieved for them and with them.

The weight of the night's dreams still lingered at the edges of his awareness: flashes of the blue darkness of Jotunheim, breaking through the defenses of the temple, crossing the threshold of a sacred chamber as words of warning echoed in his mind. For a long time he stood watching as the sun climbed slowly above the horizon and brightened the morning sky.

Today would be one of politics and ceremony, both centering around the responsibilities to the dead, as there was fresh suffering felt on three separate worlds which were now inescapably bound in a single fate.

Odin knew better than to think that an oracle could lie.

Frigga's gentle voice drew his attention back to the bedroom, where she was already up and attending Loki for the morning with her faithful attendant Hlín at her side. Odin watched peacefully from the doorway as the two women leaned over the infant, speaking softly as they dressed him. Hlín completed her spellwork and had briefly stepped away when Loki grabbed a lock of Frigga's long hair and refused to let go. Odin smiled as he came to her aid.

"I told you he was strong willed," she laughed as they worked to gently uncurl Loki's tiny fingers from their hold.

"It would appear that he has decided to keep you close," Odin chuckled.

From the corridor came the sound of Thor having a very animated conversation with Sjöfn.

"I expect that will be his brother," Odin said, and patted Frigga's backside as he turned toward the door. She smirked over her shoulder at him as he made his way into the sitting room to meet them.

"Papa!" Thor bounded across the floor excitedly at the sight of him. Odin growled playfully as he hoisted him up into a hug, and Thor squeezed his little arms tightly around his neck.

"He's been asking after you all night and all morning," Sjöfn said, patting Thor on the back as she passed them on her way into the other chamber to help Frigga with Loki.

Odin smiled at her and turned to Thor. "And how are you this morning?"

Thor leaned back from his hug to smile at him. "Hun-gwee."

Odin chuckled. "And so am I," he said. "But first, there is someone for you to meet."

Thor's eyes lit up. "Suh-pise?" he asked.

"Yes, a surprise!" Odin smiled as he carried him into the next room.

Frigga smiled delightedly at Thor as he leaned in to give her a morning kiss. When he looked down at the moving blankets in her arms, his eyes grew wide.

"Who's this?" Frigga asked him with a smile. Thor looked up at her, then over at his father.

Odin stepped in closer as Frigga leaned the infant upright, and two tiny arms wiggled loose from within a colorful blanket. Thor glowed with wonder as he leaned forward to see the new person who was now in his world.

"This is your brother," Odin said softly. "This is … Loki."

"Hello," Frigga said, smiling as she took Loki's hand and wiggled it to wave at Thor.

"Hewwo," Thor said, and grabbed at Loki's feet as he squirmed around within the blanket, gaining his attention. Loki flailed his hands and gurgled excitedly, mesmerized by another new face coming into view. Thor giggled along with him as they regarded one another, blue eyes meeting green for the first time. Thor playfully patted Loki on the belly and drew back in mild surprise at the tiny belch that resulted.

Frigga laughed. "You do that too," she said, smiling at Thor.

"They'll be competing at it soon enough," Odin grinned.

Thor reached out again, Odin wrapping his hand around his, guiding it carefully.

"We must be gentle," he said softly. "He is still very small." Thor did his best to only lightly touch Loki's little face, smiling as he responded with more happy noises.

"My name is Lo-ki," Frigga whispered, looking from him to Thor.

"Oh-kee!" Thor repeated, watching as Loki yawned and curled his arms in close to himself, his eyes fluttering.

Frigga smiled and kissed his head. "Someone's breakfast made them sleepy."

Thor leaned in closely, and gently planted his own kiss on his new brother's forehead. Though the day was only just beginning, he had already decided for himself that it was the best he had ever had.