Chapter Text
The brothers slept under a shared cloak again after spending awhile tucked together by the fire. Loki could, for a moment, almost pretend it was one of countless nights over the centuries that he and Thor had quested together. One of many campsites overlooked by a blanket of stars and the sounds of nature around them. But Jotunheim was quiet, with an eerie stillness that left Loki in a state of constant unease even though he’d hidden it well. Thor again entered slumber before Loki so he was able to study Thor’s face in the flickering mage-light. He looked so utterly diminished, so unlike himself, and the sight no longer gave Loki pleasure. For the first time since they’d fallen to the monstrous realm, Loki allowed himself the stirrings of guilt over what he’d wrought. He could never go ‘home’, not now, and it would never truly be home again anyway. Loki was a frost giant, enemy of Asgard, a monster…and he’d proven that well enough by his own hand. He had no choice but to move forward, he to what power he could scrape for himself in a realm of monsters and Thor to his damned golden throne.
Loki let the barest brush of his fingertip trail down Thor’s unnaturally cold cheek. His brother’s nose scrunched but Thor didn’t stir, proof further that mortality had ill-affected the thunderer.
“Did you think I would not accept you if I learned you were adopted?”
“Even so, it makes no difference to me, Loki. You have always been my brother and will always be so. There is nothing that would make me turn from you.”
Loki’s fingers curled as he pulled them from Thor’s face and thought, and they call me the God of Lies...
--
The next day of travel was surprisingly light-hearted, as if neither man could bear to speak of the issues between them in the sliver of peace they’d found. Thor was far from his robust self, a shade of his former joviality, but his forced cheer didn’t go unnoticed by the trickster. Loki, in turn, allowed the pretense and even graciously offered a few tales for his brother’s pleasure. A last, kind illusion for Thor’s sake before the inevitable conclusion.
Of course, the moment was nearly broken when Loki recounted a tale a little differently than Thor. He furrowed his brow incredulously at Loki’s claim to have slain the particular beast and Loki bristled. Perhaps it had shown on Loki’s face or perhaps Thor had finally gained a sliver of sense because after a slight hesitation he conceded that he may have misremembered. After a tense silence, Thor even offered a polite little apology that mollified Loki.
--
Thor felt fit to fall apart, that was the truth of the matter, but he did his best to keep strong in front of Loki. He was wary of their sudden truce and Loki’s feelings even if longed for the change to be true. Loki had a familiar glint in his eye and had even deigned to spin a few silver-tongued tales, like the old days. Thor realized he’d crossed some invisible line though when Loki’s mood soured at a disagreement between them and he feared Loki would revert to the fury he’d displayed at the start of their journey. He swallowed his misgivings and conceded the ground to Loki who after a bit of sullen silence, relaxed. The facsimile of camaraderie returned between the pair and Thor resolved to make it genuine between them again.
He was angry, buried down with other feelings he didn’t dare let erupt in the current situation, but not in the same way he had been. Thor had found Loki irrational and maddened, he’d been furious at his brother’s actions. But more and more he’d come to realize that Loki acted from a well of hurts and slights Thor hadn’t even been able to fathom. The shock on Loki’s face at the ‘revelation’ about Erros had left a bad taste in his mouth though. Loki almost seemed disturbed by the news, as though it troubled him somehow to find that Thor wasn’t the wicked instigator he’d assumed. He also hadn’t realized how deeply Loki had clutched the perceived offense. How many little grudges did Loki carry? Did he expect Thor, in some way, to answer for them all? He swallowed the bitterness too that came with the thought.
There was much that would be changed on their return to Asgard but nothing, Thor hoped, that the brothers couldn’t weather.
--
Loki could feel it in his bones, and what a discomfiting strangeness that was. He’d felt similarly in some small way the first time he’d gone to Jotunheim and again when he met with Laufey to arrange his eventual murder. A feeling similar to the sensation of being in a room filled with people, the prickle of awareness that others were about, but different. He could sense the [other] frost giants.
Revulsion passed through him and something too close to self-loathing for him to examine too closely. He dragged his nails across the hand that had first turned Jotun-blue and felt a skin-crawling sensation wash over him. The Aesir appearance was the illusion, the false skin, and just the thought brought bile and bitterness to Loki’s throat. A familiar anger surged in him and he cast a sneer at Thor for a brief instant, beyond Thor’s notice, but it all at once left him with a dizzying sort of tiredness. A weariness that he couldn’t shake. His monstrosity wasn’t Thor’s doing and being envious of Thor-of what he was and what Loki never would be-served no purpose. Not then and not now.
Thor stumbled and nearly dropped to his knees, Loki couldn’t help a slight flinch as he caught his once indomitable older brother by the arm. He looked embarrassed, or ashamed perhaps, but he clearly needed the assistance as he let himself lean briefly on Loki. As he showed Loki trust despite all that had happened since their arrival. The trickster would have reveled in that once but as things stood…it only put an ashen taste in his mouth. “We’re nearly there, brother.” Loki soothed and Thor couldn’t disguise the hope in his own weary expression.
“You sense a portal?”
Loki put a thin, false smile to his lips and squeezed his brother’s bicep reassuringly. “I feel it.” he lied and Thor exhaled in relief.
“Then we are almost home.”
Loki bit his tongue as different replies danced in his mind, he held his silence so long that Thor’s weak smile slipped.
“Brother?”
The word, mocking in a promise that couldn’t be kept, in all the lies it held. A temptation that Loki was almost weak enough to long for.
But that too would serve no purpose, not then and not now.
“I thought we would have a little more time.” Loki admitted under his breath and he saw Thor squint in confusion at the words, at what Thor undoubtedly saw as some implication that Loki wished them to stay longer. The younger man had intended to show Thor a little more sweetness in honor of Thor’s efforts, in honor of the fact they would soon be parted for good…two sons of the crown set adrift.
Sons of different crowns, anyway.
“Loki, what-”
Loki knew Thor was no actor and he would protest Loki’s actions, at least until the truth. He couldn’t have Thor make a mess of what was to come, Loki needed this to work for both of their sakes. So Loki put on a pretense for Thor one last time as he abruptly Thor to the ground. He kept his expression carefully neutral as Thor fell heavily and groaned in pain, still sore from previous injury and ill-treatment. The same pitiful confusion lit Thor’s eyes as he looked up at Loki with a wounded expression and it somehow annoyed Loki that Thor’s typical anger didn’t surface. He wanted Thor’s fury and outrage, he wanted Thor to fight…he wanted an excuse to hate himself a little less for what was necessary. What he told himself was necessary.
Loki focused as he glamoured his appearance until he looked suitably regal again, in the very regalia he’d worn when he’d fought Thor on the Bifrost.
“Loki.” Thor spoke his brother’s name as a question and accusation as he fumbled to his feet.
Loki tilted his chin as he looked on Thor with practiced impassiveness and waved a hand with an arcing flash of green. Rope materialized and with a twist of his hands it wound itself around Thor’s arms tightly. His magic had suffered for their time in the void and Jotunheim but he had enough strength to do what must be done. “This has been amusing, Thor. Watching you trip about as a mortal, watching you beg and plead for my favor.” he mocked and saw Thor’s eyes widen, he didn’t dwell on the flash of hurt he saw there. He couldn’t. “But all good things must come to an end.”
Thor’s mouth opened and closed with an aborted reply, he looked almost bewildered and Loki fixed the would-be thunderer with a mocking smirk.
“Have you lost what little wits you had? No matter. I need no words from you anyway.” he drawled as he summoned a strip of cloth to hand and hauled Thor forward by the shirt. He used Thor’s imbalance to snake his hands around Thor’s face and tie the cloth in a gag around his mouth. Loki finally saw anger flash in Thor’s expression but a weakened, mortal man wasn’t able to break free of the bindings. What a sight they must make, Loki in king’s garb and Thor bound in common clothes.
Loki had a flash of memory that transposed itself over Thor, of a younger, grinning thunderer as he looked at his little brother proudly.
He blinked and the apparition was gone, replaced by Thor who shoved into Loki’s face and growled wrath into the gag. Unimpressed, Loki caught the loose length of rope at the end of the bindings on Thor’s arms and tugged him forward. “Sad to say.” he said in a tone that oozed false sympathy. “There is no portal, brother. But worry not, I will see that you are returned to Asgard. You will make an excellent bargaining chip, after all.”
--
Thor felt rage but beneath it he struggled to comprehend his brother’s actions through his muddled mind. Even with all of Loki’s little spells, Thor as a mortal [even as god] wasn’t meant for long periods in Jotunheim. He had taken too much abuse, his body was too slow to heal and undernourished, and he’d had little rest. Loki’s sudden betrayal made no sense, a bargaining chip for what? Why did it sound as though Loki meant Thor to return alone? He stumbled but kept his footing as Loki led him by the rope like a beast and he glared at his brother as he willed Loki to turn around and answer to him. But Loki kept his eyes ahead as he walked with confidence and lead them towards whatever end Loki had apparently planned.
Had all their hints of reconciliation been a lie? But for what purpose? Thor had been sure he’d gotten through to his brother…none of it made sense and he was so damned tired.
Minutes passed, or maybe hours, when Thor finally saw where Loki had taken them. His mouth went dry as his mortal body thrummed with an uncharacteristic fear. Frost giants cast cold, red-eyed gazes their way as Loki approached and they tilted their spears his direction.
Loki smiled winningly and in a voice Thor had heard so many times, his laying-the-charm-on-thick voice, he spoke. “I’m here to see whoever it is you call ‘king’ these days. My condolences for the last one.” he added without any sincerity.
Thor’s eyes widened, Loki was going to get them killed-
“Son of Odin.” One of the Jotnar hissed before he peered at Thor.
The Jotnar guards, or what Thor took to be guards as they stood outside the natural formations of rocks that seemed to function as a gate to a small…city of sorts, muttered to each other in the Jotnar language.
“What is this?” The other Jotun finally snarled. “You dare show your faces here?”
“If you seek death, then we are glad to grant it.” The other one spoke again.
Half of Jotunheim was in ruins because of Loki’s use of the Bifrost but all the Jotnar would know was that the Bifrost was used, not necessarily that Loki had done so. The ‘city’ such as it was, looked more like a collection of ice-formed dwellings and crude structures.
“I seek an audience with your king.” Loki repeated. “Or is that too hard to understand?”
Loki had gone mad, Thor decided, absolutely mad-
One of the guards made as if to attack Loki and with great speed the trickster shoved Thor aside and summoned his daggers. He dodged a strike from the spear and stabbed once in the frost giant’s side before he stabbed him in the neck. The guard made a choked noise as he fell and Loki squared up as the other guard approached.
“Enough.” A cold voice echoed behind the guards as a thickly-muscled Jotun approached with a small retinue. He glanced at the fallen guard with a look of disgust and then his lip curled as he looked to Loki. “How soon the conniver returns.”
Loki eyed the newcomer and waited until the other guard had reluctantly stepped back before he cast his daggers back to his pocket realm and snatched Thor’s rope back up. “Conniver?” he asked innocently. “I am sure I know not what you mean."
The newly arrived frost giant managed to look both stony and hateful as he narrowed his eyes down at Loki. “Do not play fool with me.” he bared his teeth. “You led my father and brother to their deaths, filthy Aesir.”
“Ah. That. You must be Byleistr, then?” Loki clicked his tongue and gave a little half-shrug as though it couldn’t be helped. “None of it would have happened if you lot had stolen the Casket properly in the first place.”
Thor froze at that as the implications of the exchange pierced his mind. Loki had admitted to letting the guards in but he had spoken nothing of Laufey and the other. His brother had defended their father from the intruders…had he let the frost giants in again?
“But you owe me your lives.” Loki continued. “You have me to thank for stopping the Bifrost.”
Thor stared at his brother, aghast.
Byleistr, son of Laufey, wore a murderous expression at the open admission of the Bifrost attack. “To thank?” he repeated venomously.
“To make short a long story.” Loki proceeded as though Byleistr hadn’t spoken. “Thor here.” he tugged the rope and hurled Thor to his knees. “Tried to usurp me as I held Odin’s throne as regent. He managed instead to activate the Bifrost…I stopped him as soon as I could, of course. If not for that…your realm would be here no longer.” he lied smoothly.
Thor had felt in all ways halved, barely himself in any way that mattered. His own survival had depended on keeping a cool head because to confront his brother aggressively would have been the greatest of foolish acts. And he had, more and more, been empathizing with his brother and Loki’s perception of their relationship. He had been trying to be a good brother, a good prince, a good man and listen as Loki so often accused Thor of not doing. But he could trust none of it: not Loki’s so called hurts or his seeming moments of vulnerability. Was his brother even adopted? Was that too some con on Loki’s part to manipulate Thor? And he’d fallen for it, soothed Loki and reassured him even as Loki repaid Thor with violence and vitriol. Finally, finally a familiar rage better suited for a god than a mortal flared in Thor as he dug his scratched his fingers on the unyielding, icy ground. What had Thor done to deserve such betrayal? He would give his life to save his little brother but Loki had taken it and for what? Thor gritted his teeth and let the rage burn, it felt more lively than the perpetual wrong-footed feeling he’d had since being rendered mortal and finding out his brother wished him dead.
“I did not truly want you dead, brother.”
A lie, clearly another lie, because Loki looked prepared to offer up Thor as a scapegoat for his own misdeeds.
--
Byleistr wanted to snap the neck of the smug little Aes prince with his own hands. He didn’t know why the thunder-god was bound at the trickster’s side, nor what the youngest Odinson wanted. But clearly Loki took him for a fool and no doubt sought his death as he’d sought for Laufey and Helblindi. He liked to think he could take the little Aes but the risk was great and his desire for the deaths of the Odinsons was greater. Byleistr would let Loki think him simple just long enough to turn whatever trick this was against him. He bared his teeth again in a crooked sneer. “Come in, then, Aes-ling.” he beckoned backwards. “You will tell me what you have come for and why you bring the thunderer trussed up like a suckling boar.”
Thor glared up at Byleistr from his place on his knees and the cold look he received back put another unbidden chill of fear down his spine. The mortal body had instincts his godly body did not.
Loki all but beamed. “It would be my pleasure.”
--
Not even an hour from their arrival and Loki’s plan had fallen apart, which was how Loki ended up with Byleistr’s enormous hand around his throat as his feet kicked and dangled in the air.
The brothers had been taken to what passed for a banquet hall and royal court. A large room of carved and natural ice lit only by glowing moss and a few stray orbs that seemed magical in origin. Thor squinted in the absence of what light the sky above had offered as he struggled to adjust. Loki, as though he owned the place, casually summoned a handful of mage lights that hovered at the ceiling and earned noises of displeasure from some of the frost giants present.
The sight of so many giants while he was mortal, bound, and unarmed made Thor’s stomach drop and he was certain he and his mad little brother were about to die.
Byleistr leaned against the side of a carved stone table after exchanging words with what appeared to be a female Jotun. She tilted her head at whatever her prince said before she met Thor’s gaze with a toothy grin that made him shudder.
Heimdall. Thor thought urgently against hope. Heimdall, if you can see us, we need aid now.
The Bifrost would make it difficult but not impossible to reach them and it had been days…why hadn’t their father come for them? Why had Heimdall not reached them?
What the Hel was Loki planning?
Loki hadn’t paid Thor more than a passing glance since the mess had started and he found himself forced along behind his brother as Loki surveyed the room.
Byleistr and Loki began an exchange that confirmed to Thor that Loki had been responsible for Laufey nearly killing Odin. He claimed that there had been no way to avoid it, that the guards and Allmother were too close at hand and then all of Asgard would have been obliged to avenge the Allfather. Loki spoke of how Thor’s reckless incursion to Jotunheim [he left the bit about it being partially his doing out] had gotten him banished and how Thor had attached Loki on his return. How that attack had regrettably resulted in the Bifrost attack and how Loki had stopped it at the cost of the rainbow bridge.
Thor listened to his brother in disbelief as Loki went to the trouble of actually portraying some of the emotions he claimed and it looked genuine. His disappointment at Thor, his regret about the attack on Jotunheim, his apparent disdain for Asgard…which he explained in a way that left Thor reeling.
“I was stolen by the Allfather.” Loki said resolutely as he wove a tale for the audience. He had to get them on his side, he had to seem competent and powerful. Odin had left him as regent, he had stopped the Bifrost, he had bested Thor and now here he was to take back his story in the only way he could. He would make a grand reveal of his filthy heritage then make a claim for the throne on the basis of blood and that he could guarantee them the Casket in exchange for Thor. His broth-the true and only Prince of Asgard-would be safely whisked away and Loki would have some meager consolation prize. He could turn Jotunheim into something salvageable and wielding the Casket to spite Odin would be a petty thrill. Loki’s best option, or so he had been convincing himself. He carefully kept his eyes averted from Thor both to seem uncaring and because he didn’t wish to see the look on Thor’s face. Thor would feel well and truly betrayed, unaware of Loki’s motives…and he would learn of Loki’s parentage… “He was knee-deep in Jotun blood when he stole me…from these very lands.”
Thor tensed and stared openly at his brother, he had regained his footing and for the first time managed to make brief eye-contact with Loki as he rolled the implication over in his mind. The words didn’t make sense…they were impossible…another lie, no doubt, but what was it all for?
Speech erupted amongst the Jotnar in the room before Byleistr hushed them with a yell and looked at Loki as though he couldn’t believe the godling’s audacity. “What fresh lie is this?” he sneered.
Loki had to play the next bit carefully. He knew in some ways the Casket, tucked safely away in his pocket dimension, would have made a better dramatic prop. But he needed an excuse to ensure Thor’s safety and besides, if they knew he had the Casket at hand the Jotnar might try to kill Loki as well. He could still use the idea of the Casket though, to lure them in. “I found out by chance.” he again continued as though Byleistr hadn’t spoken. “I had suspicions after Prince Thor’s attack on Jotunheim.” he could practically sense Thor’s ire at that remark, amongst other things. “I touched the Casket.” he held up his hand as he tilted it palm to back wonderingly. “My appearance changed…the appearance you see is but a fiction, crafted by the Allfather.”
Byleistr looked almost alarmed for a brief instant as he exchanged glance with the female Jotun before his eyes narrowed. “Do you think I will believe these lies?” he snarled. “I will string you and your cunt brother up as offerings to Ymir. Let us see what the Allfather thinks then."
And again, because it wasn’t Byleistr that Loki needed to win over, he pressed on. “I am Loki, son of Laufey.” he declared. “I have a blood claim to the throne-”
“-You dare-” Byleistr started to roar.
“-And I have taken the Odinson for my prisoner. I will treat with the Allfather.” Loki declared. “The Odinson for the Casket. The damage from the Bifrost will be nothing if the Casket is here and in worthy hands. A king’s hands.”
The words had to be false, they had to be. Loki was not truly proclaiming before the court of Jotunheim that he was a son of Laufey…that wasn’t possible. None of that made sense…the very idea that their father-that Odin-would claim some random Jotun child in the midst of battle…it was ridiculous. Thor briefly searched his mind for his earliest memories of Loki but he recalled only meeting a babe, he had known nothing of pregnancy then or what to look for. He had been presented with an infant brother and been glad of the new arrival. All of Asgard would have known though if Frigga had not been with child then suddenly had an infant….Loki must be Asgardian…the whole story was a lie, it had to be.
Spears were raised and furious voices rang out in what passed for a hall. Loki did his best to appear calm and resolute, a picture of confidence and regality. He pointedly did not look at Thor and when his brother tried to approach a casual flick of his hand forced Thor back onto his mortal knees.
The female Jotun spoke in hushed tones to Byleistr whose expression went blank a moment before he began to laugh.
Loki had expected anger, a raised spear to the face perhaps, but not laughter. He watched Jotunheim’s king carefully as Byleistr approached and prepared to summon his daggers to hand. Loki did his best to put himself a little more between Thor and Byleistr without it looking intentional. He wasn’t about to let his brother die to these monsters, all irony aside given their very recent history.
“You claim to be the runt?” Byleistr might have sounded amused if not for how chillingly malicious his tone was.
“What?” Loki hadn’t expected that either and was momentarily thrown by Byleistr’s demeanor and question.
“You know what happens when a Jotnar shits out a runt?” Byleistr grinned, all tooth and malice. “It’s left to die. Weak. Useless. Unwanted.” he stepped closer. “Unneeded.”
The female jotun spoke then, dressed in a necklace of bones and other items that made her seem like one who worked with magic-craft. “Laufey did have a child in the war-times.” she conceded. “To think, Odin Allfather picked up Laufey’s waste.”
Jeers then, from the other Jotnar, who for the most part seemed to have dismissed whatever reservations they felt at the sudden admission from ‘Loki Odinson’ with the knowledge that he was-if anything-merely a runt.
“Never has a runt sat the throne of Jotunheim.” Byleistr said and sounded pleased to say so. “And never will they.”
Loki’s mind raced to adjust with the mood of the room and the new information. Odin had said Loki had been left to die but he hadn’t been sure he’d believed it and either way…Loki was still…still…a son of Laufey. A royal by blood, or so he he had thought, he didn’t realize how deeply Jotnar culture was set against so-called ‘runts’. He swallowed hard as whatever hint of momentum he felt he’d gained with the room turned into animosity and mocking. “First time for everything.” he tried to sound collected even as his heart-rate increased and the thread of anxiety in him began to grow. “I am the only chance Jotunheim has of ever being more...this realm has become a wasteland. But I can save it. With the Casket, I-”
Loki didn’t sense the movement, he felt only a prickle of magic at the edge of his senses before he found Byleistr before him. He barely had time to start to stagger back before a hand the size of his head clamped around his throat and Loki wheezed as he gripped Byleistr’s wrist instinctively. A feeling of deepest chill came over him, different than the feel of the Casket, as frost giant flesh touched his own. Loki gasped as his vision changed, as his eyes became the red of a frost-giant and better suited for the dark. The chill no longer tugged at the edge of his glamour, it felt comfortable as his skin turned blue and lined with the heritage marks that announced him as undeniably Laufey’s progeny. Pinpricks darkened his vision as he summoned a dagger while he clutched at Byleistr with the other. Byleistr’s grip tightened though and Loki swore he heard a crack as pain assailed him and his hand spasmed, the dagger clattered to the floor.
He was going to die, Loki realized, having gravely miscalculated. Loki would die a nobody, a cast-off of two realms, and Thor would die with him. Thor. He would see now what Loki was and he would watch Loki die thinking that his adopted brother was purely a traitor. Thor would never know that, in addition to saving himself, Loki had been trying to save Thor too.
--
Loki’s monologue had sickened Thor more with each moment that passed even as disbelief struck him. But then, of all things, the Jotnar court seemed to play along and spoke of some runt of Laufey’s supposedly left to die. Thor had heard something before about the Jotnar killing off their weaker offspring, he’d thought them monsters either way and hadn’t paid much attention but was this an off-shoot of that? Were there giants born small, giants who were left to die rather than given the chance to live?
Was…was it possible that Loki was such a child? That he was…born of Laufey?
Byleistr had laughed, cold and cruel, and Thor knew before Loki that his schemes had failed. The room had been dangerous already but any chance of survival had left with Loki’s gall as he attempted to bargain away the throne right in front of Jotunheim’s current king. Thor felt dizzy and light-headed but pushed himself to his feet again as Loki tensed at Byleistr’s approach. Some part of him had a still-protective instinct and wanted to put himself between his brother and the threat. Another part wanted to throttle Loki senseless for the whole mess. Another he didn’t have time to decipher as the air in front of Loki seemed to flicker a moment and then Byleistr was no longer where he had been.
Thor had seen enough magic-users in his life to recognize the signs and his gaze flicked back to the female frost giant. She had done something, an illusion, perhaps. He got only as far as that thought before his attention was forced back to Loki. Byleistr had snatched him by the throat and Thor immediately shouted into his gag as he tugged futilely at his bindings. Loki looked small, smaller than ever in the grip of a giant as he flailed desperately but Thor was struck by what happened in that instant. He watched as Loki’s form seemed to melt away, as pale Aesir skin was chased away by the dark blue of a frost giant. Thor couldn’t see Loki’s eyes at his angle but he could guess what they’d look like…by the Norns…it was true.
Loki was a frost giant. The son of Laufey.
Everything had been a lie.