Chapter Text
The halls of the palace of Asgard were unusually silent and empty. Where there were always loud and rambunctious fools stumbling around, it was strangely quiet.
Strange, mostly, to the lone child wandering the halls. Loki was accustomed to the quiet; he often sought it out, in fact. Still, seeing the palace like this--near devoid of life--was unusual, to say the least.
This rare phenomenon was happening due to the tournament between Realms that was fought every two centuries. Loki had never been to such a thing, as his mother Frigga had deemed him too young during the previous tournament, and this year he was on house arrest. Not unintentionally so, either.
See, Loki did not get the point of staring at two grown men hacking at each other until one of them surrendered--which, knowing Aesir, would take hours and hours. His brother Thor, however, found some sort of joy in it. As did most of the palace. Even the maids and manservants had gone to cheer on their partners or relatives.
Thor always dragged him to every brawl on the playground, only to join in and leave him on the sidelines. He had declared loudly that he 'would show his brother the glory of battle' multiple times. And, well, if Thor asked him to come he could not simply refuse.
This tournament was not at all to his taste. So, to avoid Thor asking him to go, he simply went to his mother's quarters a few days before and asked for house arrest. She had gladly complied, still of the opinion both of her sons were too young to witness such bloodshed.
Thor, of course, had given Loki his kicked-wolfcub look when he'd heard. Fortunately, there was no changing it. Loki would much rather spend his day buried in books and practicing his magic.
Which was what he had been doing up until a few hours ago. But even magic could get boring if studied continuously, and Loki had been studying it all his life.
This in itself was... unusual, to say the least. Nobody liked a prince of Asgard devoted to a woman's art; not the All-Father, not the populace, and especially not Loki's peers. Thor told them off when the teasing went too far, but too far was relative, and Thor was still learning the line between jesting and hard insults.
This was how he'd become somewhat of a recluse, hiding in his studies and practicing. When the time came, he could show them all how superior magic was in comparison to brawling and Aesir steel.
For now, however, he needed a break. A break that usually came in the form of bothering Thor, but with the castle empty...
Loki greeted a few guards patrolling the halls, and revised his thoughts. Nearly empty, then. For a moment he considered bothering the guards, but decided against it. The unlucky fellows were already stuck here instead of at the tournament, souring their mood even more would not work out well.
Maybe he could spell Thor's growing supply of capes... No, he had done that already, no need to be too predictable. Buds of ideas began to sprout in his mind. Perhaps he could look for-
Loki knew there was something very, very off the instant before it happened.
He became aware of a faint ringing in his ears, his footsteps suddenly distant and overly loud at the same time, the hallway spinning.
The halt of the dull pounding in his ears was his only indication that he'd stopped walking. His body was numb, but Loki barely noticed, too busy trying to rediscover his balance.
This was wrong wrong wrong not supposed to happen. Loki could not think straight; his mind was clouded with something that wasn't quite agony.
That was when the true pain started. It was everywhere and nowhere, spreading over his body like burning ashes.
Loki wasn't aware that he was screaming until there were heavy footsteps around the corner, as the guards Loki had just passed came running. He couldn't see, he did not look; there was only pain.
He knew nothing more.
When Loki woke, it was to morning light filtering through the window.
His mother appeared in his somewhat blurry vision, a gentle smile easing her worried features, and Loki blinked a bit, trying to wake himself up.
"Mother?" He winced at his voice, which was slightly hoarse. Why was he in the healer's wing?
He remembered wandering the palace, greeting the guards and then... pain, like smoldering ashes. He'd collapsed?
"Loki." Mother looked relieved at hearing his voice, and helped him sit up against the back of the bed he had been laying in. "Are you well?"
Loki did not answer the question, because he did not know what to say. Was he well?
"What happened?" He questioned instead, cursing himself for the evasion when he saw worry seep back into his mother's features.
"The guards found you on the ground, in grave pain," she answered.
"Were there any wounds? Attackers found?" Loki did not remember any, but he had to be certain.
His mother shook her head. "No. That is what worries me so."
Because no wounds meant there was another problem, one that was not as easily repaired.
"I am well, Mother. It must have simply been exhaustion." Loki lied with a soothing tone, seeing his mother's face relax. The look in her eyes, though, did not waver. "You know how tiring Thor can be."
"That I do," Frigga chuckled lightly.
Loki stepped out of the bed, ignoring his still tilting vision. Even though Mother looked like she wanted to protest, she made no move to stop him.
"I was not the only one concerned," she said suddenly, quietly, stopping Loki in his tracks. Mother continued, a faint smile on her lips. "Thor has been fretting over you this whole time. He did not know what to do with himself."
Loki smiled, not his usual mischievous smile, but a genuine one. "I will visit him before I continue my studies. Thank you, Mother."
(Frigga couldn't help but track Loki walking down the hall, to convince herself that her son was still safe, and moving, and breathing.
Then he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight, and Frigga turned away, with the lingering feeling that something was terribly wrong.)
Arriving at Thor's quarters, Loki hesitated for a moment before deciding there was no point in knocking--Thor never woke up at this early an hour, and would not wake from a knock, unless Loki fancied pounding on the door until he had splinters in his hands--which he really didn't.
Yet, when Loki applied a touch of magic and opened the no-longer-locked door, Thor's bed, standing proudly in the middle of the room, was empty. Ruffled, slept in, but empty.
Loki was about to check his brother's washing room--this time with a knock, of course--when he spotted a note lying on the bed. He came closer and identified Thor's messy scrawl.
Mother, father,
I am currently hunting deer in the east side woods with Fandral and Sif. I will be back before sundown.
Have a fine day!
Underneath the message was the older prince's signature, and some part of Loki noted that Thor had been learning in those etiquette lessons after all, even while the rest of him was staring at the paper in disbelief.
Yes, clearly Thor had been fretting about his brother's health. Loki tossed the paper aside, trying to push away the feeling of bitterness.
It was not important. Without having Thor to deal with, Loki would have more time to study and see to whatever problem it was that had caused him to collapse.
Loki had no doubt the healer had tested for all possible illnesses, and he certainly couldn't do anything on the medical front. He knew though, as his mother had taught him, that only he could enter his own mind and study his own magic.
It was the reason Mother could only ever tell him how to enter his mindscape, not what to do afterwards. Every mind was vastly different. Different layouts, methods, all based on that person's perception, imagination and a number of other factors.
In the safety of his own room, Loki quietly slipped into his mindscape to search for the reason he'd collapsed.
For Loki, his mind was sectioned into orderly parts. Connected, yet not side by side. There was no way to accurately describe it, but the closest he could get would be floors on vastly different heights, yet connected by the same wall.
There was a soft, tranquil part, giving off a vague golden... not a glow, exactly, but that was the closest Loki could get to describing the feeling. It was where his memories were stored, the events that had shaped him into what he was now and would continue to shape him.
Then there was a void, a part of his mind that was only illuminated by the glowing green mass of magic floating in the middle. His magic core was constantly moving, twisting, but it would mesmerize anyone easily with its beauty.
Then there was something... more. Another floor, perhaps, or something different. Loki did not know what it was or how much more there was, but he could feel it nonetheless. However, he had left it be. He could not access it, not yet at least. If the Norns meant for him to find out, he would.
Loki suspected he could not see it only because he did not know what he was trying to find and access.
After going through his mindscape, inspecting it and inspecting his magic, and not finding anything amiss, he was forced to conclude he could not find the problem. And as he could not find the problem, he could not fix the problem. It was a bitter thought.
There was nothing for him to do. He could only hope to the Norns that this was a one-time occurrence.
As the months passed Loki saw the sharp look in his mother's eyes, aimed only at him, fade slightly, every time she saw him smiling and upright.
As such, he did not have the heart to tell her--or anyone--that the attacks had continued. They were sporadic, sometimes hours passed between attacks and sometimes months, and as time passed Loki learned to deal with the fainting spells.
He learned to stifle his screams so nobody would notice. There was not always the inexplicable pain, but the ache within him that he could not put words to was always part of the attacks.
He learned to recognize some pattern behind the attacks, and sequester himself away when he felt he was at risk of another. He learned to avoid fights, because oftentimes he could not get away from them without leaving behind a betrayed ally or a destructive enemy.
This was how, at nearly twelve hundred years old, he had become known as the coward of Asgard. The sneaky one with the silver tongue, who tricked and lied instead of fighting like a real man would do, the prince that practiced an old woman's art instead of honorable battle. The one who ran away.
His brother began to spend more and more time with his friends, Sif and the Warriors Three. This did not bother Loki initially. Yet the fact was that, slowly but surely, Thor began to choose them over his brother.
It seemed that his brother never did figure out where teasing turned to insults. Loki did not enjoy being made fun of, but he wasn't truly hurt by it until his brother joined in.
Loki felt bitter towards Thor on those days. The Golden Boy of Asgard who always made their father proud, who was being groomed for the throne, who could not even see the hurt he was causing. No matter what faults Thor showed, no matter what Father used to imply, Loki was never even considered for the throne.
It was not that Loki disappointed the All-Father. No, it was hard to disappoint someone who did not give you more than a glance every year or so.
Loki remembered a time when it had been different. When might and glory did not matter as much yet and Father cared for both of them. When the two brothers played together under Mother's watchful eye.
He remembered when it had mattered whether he came to the family dinners. When someone had always noticed if he'd been caught up in a book and lost track of time, and had sent someone to get him.
Those memories were from long, long ago. He was but a shadow, now, except for when he irritated someone. Then he was an ant, to be ridiculed and thrown around. The more his position as Prince went unheeded by his peers and the All-Father, the less it seemed to matter to the common warrior.
Despite this position, Loki could not bring himself to hate Thor, or his mother, or give up on being noticed by his father. It may have been because they were family, or it may have been because they were all he had.
So when, with the day of Thor's Kingship quickly approaching, he looked at his brother and saw a warrior, not a king, his decision was not made out of bitterness.
Thor was not ready to be king. The responsibility would destroy him, collapse his bright grin, wear his strong hands. He did not think, and as King, that would lead Asgard into ruin. Loki could not let either of those things happen.
Jötnar entering Asgard undetected and in a threatening position would make Thor want to retaliate. He would simply show the Frost Giants one of the secret passages he'd found and collapse it afterwards, that was all he would have to do.
Of course, it was never that simple, was it? According to all logic, Loki should have let Thor go without him--he was not alone, and he could handle a fair amount of enemies even by himself. Yet, Loki could not sit back and watch as his brother threw himself into a high risk situation. This was Loki's doing, and he had to see it through. He would not risk his brother being killed by his machinations.
The vast plains of Jötunheim were bleak and silent. There was not a soul to be seen, although, Loki corrected, those Jötnar even having a soul was up for debate. Great pillars of ice scattered the rocky landscape.
"Where are they?" Sif questioned, visibly uncomfortable. Thor's answer was immediate and sharp.
"Hiding, as cowards always do."
Sif shot Loki a significant look at this, and Loki clenched his jaw. Defending his honour was not important at the moment.
This did not feel like cowardry to Loki. This felt dangerous. This felt like an ambush.
They entered a structure in ruins, Thor apparently knowing where he was going.
"You've come a long way to die, Asgardians." The voice startled Loki, although he did not show it. He, like Thor, turned to the shape that was looming over the ruins. It bathed in shadows.
"I am Thor Odinson." Thor announced.
"We know who you are."
This voice was far more composed than those of the Frost Giants Loki had offered passage. This was not a mere beast.
With a shock, Loki realized this had been a mistake. A grave mistake. They should never have come here.
"How did your people get into Asgard?" Thor demanded, spitting out the words like venom.
There was a pause, and light fell upon faded blue features as the shape shifted forward. Laufey, because of course it was the king facing them, answered Thor. "The house of Odin is full of traitors."
"Do not dishonor my father's name with your lies!" Thor snapped back in anger.
Was Loki a traitor, if he had done it for the good of Asgard? Maybe so. It was not working out as he'd hoped.
Laufey stood up and snarled his next words at them. "Your father is a murderer and a thief." He spoke with disgust and bitterness. "And why have you come here, to make peace? You long for battle. You crave it."
Thor did not interrupt, and Laufey was happy to continue. "You're nothing but a boy trying to prove himself a man."
Jötnar began appearing from the shadows of the ruins, surrounding them, but Thor did not seem to notice.
"This 'boy' has grown tired of your mockery."
This had been a mistake, Loki thought again. They were going to have to fight for their lives. This was the center of Laufey's Realm, frigid and tough, and it was where they were about to die.
Laufey stepped fully out of the shadows, red eyes looking down at them. Ice began to form around his hand, shaping a sharp lance within but a moment.
Loki stepped closer to his brother and whispered urgently to him. "Stop and think. Look around, we're outnumbered."
"Know your place, brother." Thor growled in low tones. Loki felt a familiar bitterness well up. There had been a time when Thor had listened to him.
"You know not what your actions will unleash." Laufey pauses. "I do."
A war, Loki realized with growing horror. To start a fight here and now would mean to declare war between Jötunheim and Asgard.
"Go now, while I'll still allow it." Laufey stepped further into the open, until he was standing before them.
Come on, come on, Thor, this is our out. We can leave this peacefully and all will be well.
"We will accept," Loki took over before Thor could ruin this, keeping his voice straight and calm, "your most gracious offer."
He turned and slowly started walking. "Come on, brother," Loki muttered when Thor did not follow immediately.
And then Thor did turn, choosing to listen, though Loki could still feel his hatred towards the Jötnar radiating out. Loki's silent relief was cut short with Laufey's final goodbye. "Run home, little princess."
"Damn." Loki said, not moving an inch. He could just feel that stupid, prideful grin blooming behind him.
And then Mjolnir was slamming Laufey into a wall of the ruins, and all Hel broke loose.
Loki threw a dagger through the chaos to catch a Jötunn in the shoulder. The magic in it disintegrated the monster sluggishly, giving it time to cry out and tremble.
This situation is my doing. Another knife landed in a giant sneaking up behind Sif.
This is my doing.
Two charging monsters were brought to a halt by their own legs collapsing beneath them.
My fault. One Jötunn charged straight through Loki's illusion into the deep ravine. It's my fault. Loki stabbed a Frost Giant in the stomach, and this one took the hit with barely a grunt, reaching back before Loki could retreat.
There was a moment of absolute silence between the two, even while the battle raged on around them, as they stared at the blue creeping up Loki's arm from where the Giant was holding his wrist.
Loki bared his teeth and stabbed the monster again, pulling his arm out of the dying creature's hold. He noticed he was shaking.
He had heard the alarmed yell of 'Do not let them touch you!' a minute before--was this the reason? No, that skin, it felt like-
Maybe it had been an illusion, some filthy Jötnar magic, though Loki was the most skilled mage in all of Asgard and he had not felt such a thing...
That was the only explanation, wasn't it? Jötnar magic.
Loki was pulled out of his staring when a crash sounded, and he realized his arm was back to how it had always been. Had it been a hallucination?
No time to contemplate it now, he decided, as he dodged a pillar of ice coming down. Right now there was a mess to be fixed.
Fandral shouted in pain, and Loki turned to see a massive spike of ice through his chest. Only a moment later, a glowing green blade whirled through the chest of the attacking Jötunn.
Volstagg and Hogun began pulling a groaning Fandral away from the spikes, helping him walk. Sif shouted for Thor's attention, but he did not even turn to look.
"We must go!" Loki yelled.
"Then go!" Thor shouted back, like he was expecting them to leave without him. Idiot.
An enormous crash sounded, ice breaking, and Loki's head whipped around to the monster rising from the ice.
It was huge and horrifying, like nothing he had ever seen before. With the state they were in-
"Run!" Volstagg shouted.
Loki saw the monster turn its head towards his brother, who was still occupied by holding off the mass of Frost Giants. If this enormous beast chose to go after Thor while he was distracted...
Without hesitating Loki flared his magical aura, nearly blinding himself as he drew the attention of all that could sense lifeforms. He started running, a slight distance behind Thor's friends. The beast roared in rage and bounded after them in great leaps, breaking straight through the massive pillars of ice like they were not even there.
Thunder crashed down behind them, back in the ruins. Loki's heart lightened a bit, even as the beast snarled down their group's necks. Thor was fine. He would fly out after them, Loki knew.
Suddenly the ground was crashing down behind them--a deafening crashing right on their heels, fragile ice falling down around them--and then the beast had fallen too--were they next? Would they fall into an endless abyss, helpless to Jötunheim's treacherous ice-
Hogan stumbled, lagging behind, about to be swallowed by the ever widening abyss. Loki's magic swept out as his panic flared, holding the ice for just a moment, giving time for all of them to make it to the stable edge just in time.
Loki felt unbalanced. He was panting not from physical exhaustion but rather from adrenaline from the near miss and the feeling of we are going to die here. The ground was no longer falling, steady where it had been stopped by Loki's magic and how had he done that it should not have been possible?
Just in time, he'd channeled the panic into intent instead--took deliberate hold of his magic to try and save them. Yet he knew, acutely, that he shouldn't have been able to. Loki had never been able to put anything back together before. He had tried.
Loki looked around to check if the others were still there, reassured by the motion even when he could feel their presence without trying. Thor was still back there, but Loki knew his brother well enough to know he would not let his friends brave enemy ground alone for long.
The frigid air sunk into his lungs as he tried to calm his wildly beating heart. He needed to regain control over his thoughts. A chill settled on his skin--the danger had not gone, they were not safe.
Loki whipped his head back to the ravine as a rumbling sounded, louder than the whistling of the wind or the crashing of ice behind them. A claw appeared, gripping onto the edge, then an arm, and Loki's eyes widened as the beast pulled its way onto the ice.
Loki could not with confidence say what happened next. The monster roared and not a moment later it fell down, a sizeable hole straight through its head.
Thor landed with a resounding boom, shaking the ice, a proud grin on his face that slowly faded away as he turned around to face them.
Loki turned as well to see what made Thor so serious, and readied his daggers when he came face-to-face with the problem. The army-sized problem.
They had run from them without result. Now the only choice left was to fight.
This had been a mistake. To come here, to trick his brother at all. They had been prepared for the attack, prepared for the start of a war.
It was a mistake Loki would never have the chance to repeat.
The moment before the Jötnar rushed at the small group of warriors and the lone mage, there was a flickering of blinding light that paused the battle. Not a gasp could be uttered before the Bifrost came crashing down around the group, Odin with it, riding atop his bristling battle horse.
The All-father stood on a rock at the edge of the ravine, facing Laufey and his army. He did not spare the young Aesir a second glance.
"Father!" Thor yelled, pride and overconfidence practically shining from his rejuvenated smile as he readied Mjolnir. "We'll finish them together!"
"Silence." Odin hissed, and even though he could not see it Loki knew his father's eyes were flashing with anger. The Warriors did not seem to understand yet, but the realization had dawned on Loki long ago.
We attacked them on their own land. The treaty is broken. We are at war now.
Laufey rose up from the ice to face Odin.
"All-Father." The monster mused, not at all sounding like an enemy at war. "You look weary."
"Laufey," Father acknowledged. "End this now."
Laufey was glaring now, his red eyes filled with hate. He looked almost bitter. "Your boy sought this out."
"You're right." Odin agreed. "These are the actions of a boy. Treat them as such. You and I can end this, here and now, before there is further bloodshed."
Father thought he could reason with these creatures? Bloodshed is all they sought.
"We are beyond diplomacy now, All-father." Laufey unknowingly agreed with Loki. "He'll get what he came for: war and death."
Odin nodded. He had evidently expected this response. "So be it."
Laufey lunged and Loki readied his magic to cut the monster's head off, but before he could form a blade, the King of the Jötnar was thrown back by a beam of light and the Bifrost took them all.
When the neon colours and dizziness faded away and left faint nausea--Loki never did like travelling by Bifrost--the first thing Loki heard was shouting.
"Why did you bring us back!"
"Do you realize what you've done, what you've started?" Odin was talking quickly, angrily.
"I was protecting my home!" Thor protested.
"You can't even protect your friends, how can you hope to protect the kingdom? Get him to the healing room, now!" The last part was said to Hogun and Volstagg, who were supporting Fandral.
"There won't be a kingdom to protect if you're afraid to act."
Loki was watching silently. This was not right. It was he who lured Thor out.
"The Jotuns must learn to fear me, just as they once feared you!"
Jötnar, brother, Loki silently corrected in his mind. Thor never had been any good at learning about other Realms.
"That's pride and vanity talking, not leadership," Odin countered, standing tall and proud. "You've forgotten everything I taught you about a warrior's patience."
"While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us!" Thor growled. "The old ways are done and you'd stand giving speeches-" Thor spit out the word like it was poison- "while Asgard falls."
"You're a vain, greedy, cruel boy!" Odin snarled. Loki flinched away.
"And you are an old man and a fool!"
A short silence rang through the room, louder than any words could be.
"... Yes," Odin admitted. "I was a fool to think you were ready."
Loki's eyes widened. This was not to be a simple reprimand.
"Father..." Loki started, but was interrupted by Odin's wordless growl, telling him to stay out of this.
"Thor Odinson..." Father sounded regretful. Loki suddenly hated him more than anything.
"You have betrayed the express command of your king. Through your arrogance and stupidity you have opened these peaceful realms and innocent lives to the horror and desolation of war!"
Odin snarled the last words and placed his staff in the Bifrost's access system, activating the bridge. He stepped down to where Thor was standing.
Loki did not stop their father as he ripped off Thor's armour and announced that he was unworthy, of the realms, of his title, of the friends he had betrayed.
He watched in silence as Thor was banished, even while his heart was chilled and something in him called to STOP HIM STOP HIM STOP HIM. Some part of Loki was still afraid of Odin's authority and the fury burned cold, not hot.
He did not speak a word as the Bifrost's deactivated. Odin turned and walked back towards the palace.
This had been the plan, had it not? To save Asgard, to keep Thor from pain by making sure he would never become king.
So why did he not feel accomplished?
Loki remembered the cold of Jötunheim, the cries of rage and pain in battle. The scaly claws gripping his wrist and the blue creeping along his skin.
Loki remembered his magic doing the impossible, fortifying the ice before it collapsed and doomed them all.
He made for the weapons vault, to make certain that it was all a coincidence.