fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

Loki may never have served on any of the official missions to Jotunheim, but he knew far more of them than Odin had ever wanted him to. He had learned to slip through the branches of Yggdrasil in a way that left him free from the constraints of the Bifrost, and he had visited the land of his birth many times. He had met with Laufey, with Helblindi, and with Bylestir.

He knew of what their politics were. Or he believed he did.

"The Jotnar live in a land ravaged and weak, devoid of the heart of their power, how could they hope to rise against us in a second war without being wholly destroyed? They are not monsters, they are people, and they surely want a chance to rise above the situation they are in now. Please, meet with Laufey-King, send a delegation if you cannot go yourself, and bargain for his help."

Loki would not let this opportunity slip through his fingers. He met Odin's gaze fiercely, proudly.

"Or do you truly believe those old tales of the Frost Giants being every bit the monsters that the Fire Giants are?"

Odin’s frown was all encompassing. A few extra moments to discuss politics with his youngest was not the worst way to spend an afternoon, but they were under siege. If either of his ravens were correct, they could be in a disastrous trouble.

“If you had been subjugated the way that we subjugated Jotunheim, my son, would you willingly take up arms and fight with those that conquered you? In time, yes. Look at the other Realms. Midgard serves us willingly. They have learned their place. You are but young and the Jotun live longer than those on Midgard. It will not be until your children and your brother’s children rule Asgard that they will be able to fall in line.” Odin descended the stairs. His son stood taller than he did but it did not bother him to look up.

Loki was not his, biologically, but a father could still be proud of tall, handsome sons no matter how they came under his charge.

“We have no time to seek counsel with the deposed ruling class. I have every intention of bringing Jotunheim back to the fold, but I have lived long enough to know that I will not live to see it happen.”

"Of course they will never fall in line if we approach them as though they should be our vassals, they are a proud and strong people."

Perhaps Loki gave away a little too much of his knowledge of the Jotnar in his passion, for no child of Asgard raised solely on their history and teachings would ever call those of Jotunheim proud, or think to speak at all kindly of them.

"They should be as Vanaheim, allies, but not beholden to us. If they were approached with the Casket and an alliance was forged, a true alliance, then think of the benefit for both of our realms, even beyond the repelling those of Muspelheim."

Loki would not back down on this, he had the blood of two realms running in him and he refused to be broken from it. He was a son of Asgard and a son of Jotunheim, and he would see a way to have them both take the positions they deserved.

Odin's eyes were sharp and for years, the Ravens had been hinting at Loki's visits to his birth father's. He had been hoping for the lie rather than the truth but he had guessed wrong. Very wrong. "You understand little. Vanaheim is ally in name only. They still take the knee to this Realm and have never committed treasonous acts and attempted to raid the claimed Realms. No Loki. They are conquered. They will not have the Casket and there will be no alliance:" Odin was trying not to be so harsh but he could not help the anger feeding into his voice now.

Loki was stepping too far. He likely knew too much and that was just as dangerous.

He could not let him lead the left vanguard in support of his brother at this rate.

"See to your mother. She went to the halls of healing. Since you will not do as you are told, since you might find argument with my decision, you will not be honoured by battle on this day. Now go."

Loki was too young. He didn't know when to stop.

"The Casket is my birthright."

Loki, angered at his father's dismissal of the Jotnar as anything other than subjugated, seeing that as a slight against himself, and stung from having the vanguard removed from him to be sent to his mother instead like a child, lost all remaining control over his tongue. It was the worst of his anger, that chaos took over and he stopped caring what the wildfire set ablaze.

"I would go to Thor and stop him, I do not wish to see him fall to Muspelheim, nor to have them rejoice at his death. But I mean to fight the Fire Giants with the might of Jotunheim at my side, and Asgard will see that they are no monsters. I will not be a prisoner, secretly loathed for what you have tried to keep from me, any longer."

He towered over his father, no fear on his face.

"I am a son of Asgard, and a son of Jotunheim, why can I not fight with both?"

Odin's eyes widened. Anything he had been about to say or should have said was stilted as he opened his mouth and slammed it closed again. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.

Now was not the time for Odin-Sleep, but Loki's revelation had shocked it into him. He looked old and small on the ground. Feeble. Not the mighty warrior that had taken Loki home and raised him as son, not slave.

With Thor in battle, perhaps to die, and the guards rushing around, no one was to see this but Loki. He had his shot at his idea. But of course, Laufey was not the type to be trusted. Odin did not just give himself the name Wise in his youth. He had earned it.

Loki might be angry in many ways, and bitter in others, but he was not evil and he still saw Odin as a father. To see him collapse was terrifying, Odin was a force of nature itself that should be unshakeable as a mountain, and now he looked fragile and small. It shocked him into near tears for a few moments, before he whirled from the room and opened the doors to shout for the guards.

They had barely rushed in past him when he took his leave on swift feet towards the healing halls. Though he should put his plan immediately in motion, in that moment he was a boy barely into manhood who wished to speak with his mother. He burst in on her, white faced and frantic, magic physically pushing everyone else from the room in a burst of power.

"Father has fallen to the Odin-Sleep, Muspelheim have attacked, and Thor has gone. It was me, I have brought the All-Father to his knees, but I only wanted him to see reason. Do you understand? He had to see that he was wrong, he is wrong."

Frigga was calm in the face of all of this, though the worry was in her eyes as she took her youngest by the hand and tugged him along back to Odin's chambers. She had felt her husband fall and she had known already of the attack. She'd been here preparing for casualties. But her boy was afraid and in distress and she was a mother first and queen second.

"You did no such thing. Nothing can cause an Odin-Sleep but the dictates of Odin or the forces even he must adhere to. Loki, we must get word to your brother. If the fire giants attack, I fear we have little recourse in what we must do." She did not mean to use the Casket. Frigga had her own abilities up her sleeve and she had come from the snowy mountains of Vanaheim. Her magic was great. "Girl," she said to one of her slaves that ran behind them, "fetch Sigyn to me. Fetch Amora and her sister."

They neared the great hall were Odin was still laying and she paused, Loki's hand still in her.

"I will need you as well my dark star. Will you join us?"

Frigga was Loki's heart, no matter where his loyalties might shift or his bitterness might twist him, she was always the one that could cut to the very core of him and make him do the right thing. Or she had been until this moment, because he pulled back from her when they were alone with Odin and shook his head.

"He fell because of me, and I will not make that in vain."

His eyes pleaded with her to understand, even if his voice remained firm as though he had made these decisions long ago.

"I know what I am, I know that my being here must have been fate for this moment. The Casket, the Jotnar, they can repel Muspelheim."

"No." She was not surprised. Why would she be when she had known the first time he had learned to step through the void? She might have helped, might have made it easier on him, might have ripped the Realm a little so he didn't get lost. She might want him to succeed a bit more than she ought to have but he returned safely each time.

She did not reach again for his hand but she did offer hers to him.

"The Casket is yours by birthright. And you will need to use it today. You, my sweet one, and no other. Laufey-King can not be trusted." Surely Loki understood that. She had glimpsed many visits of his to Jotunheim.

They encouraged his treason. And so far, Loki had resisted.

"But this is your choice. You are young, there are turns you do not understand. But you were always my clever one. And your heart breeds chaos. Stand today with your family, the one you choose."

Loki was clever, and he knew that if he used the Casket then he would gain a Jotun skin. Not because he had touched it before, but because he had experimented with the Jotnar ice magic while visiting their realm and found his skin changing. If he used the Casket himself then he would be a lone Jotun among Asgardians, everyone would see him for what he was, and he would lose all.

How could he choose a family that would reject him after that? Asgard would surely call for his imprisonment or even execution when they found out what he was, if there was no treaty with Jotunheim to back up that it was not a monstrous thing to be.

He did not take his mother's hand, instead he vanished in a furious glare of green light. It took but a few moments to gain the Casket, the Destroyer not prepared for a sorcerer of Loki's ability, and bundle it into fabric to keep it from touching his bare skin. And then he was out by his horse, where he had told Anthony to wait, pulling up into the saddle with wild eyes.

"You should not follow me to battle, my Anthony, you will regret your ownership. I gift you now to Frigga, go to her and tell her of her ownership of you."

Now it was Anthony's turn to choose to obey or rebel.

"Nice try."

Anthony wasn't having it. Of course not. He was no fool. He knew only a life with Loki and that life had been breathtaking and glorious.

Poor Loki had not waited long enough to learn that Frigga could cloak him. Or that the casket could be used from inside a ship if he chose. None had to see. And obviously he failed to realize that his parents wanted him, knowing fully who he was, and had put him second in line to the throne despite having three brothers between himself and Thor.

But youth would do such things without question. Loki was proving it now.

And Anthony was proving to be Loki's match. "Where are we going?" We. No one was around to hear them and Anthony wasn't going to mind his mouth. "And are you going to fill me in on what you've been plotting without me?"

"I am going to support Thor, and when this is over I shall be imprisoned or dead, you will go to Frigga. I rescind ownership of you, I pass it to her, now go."

It hurt, he did not want to give up Anthony. Even in so short a time as fifty years, the Midgardian had become more friend than slave, and he had never had such loyalty given to him before. But that was why he owed Anthony a better fate than either being slaughtered or sent back to the village to be shipped out to menial work when his truth came out.

"I am not what I appear, I am no true son of Asgard, only raised here under pretence and lies. I am a son of Laufey-King of Jotunheim, and before the day is out, all shall know it."

Perhaps he would be able to flee to Jotunheim with the Casket after he had supported Thor and made sure his brother would not be killed. He would try. He had no wish to die for his blood.

Anthony rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic," he said, pulling himself up and onto his horse. "If you rescind ownership, you're making me free. And I think we all know what happens to free Midgardians." Without access to apples, the aging process reversed very quickly. Anthony would be old in a matter of weeks and likely die within a year or two. He was not going to be anyone else's. Certainly not Frigga's. He could be tortured for information about his master and Anthony would rather die than give it up. "So do me a favor will you? If you're going to be caught for something treasonous, kill me first. I'll wait to serve you again when your time comes."

Loki just confessed to being a Jotun, but Anthony wasn't convinced. Loki had been reading up on Jotun for as long as he could remember. He could well be in the midst of magical madness and taking what he learned from those tomes as his own reality. Anthony didn't know.

The only thing he could say for certain was that he wasn't leaving Loki.

"Don't shame me with abandonment, my prince. I've always served you well, right?"

"I am not committing a treason."

Frigga had given him permission to use the Casket, and he was not (yet) going against the All-Father's orders not to involve Jotunheim. But what he was, the truth of his skin, that would surely count as treason to most. He did not forbid Anthony from coming with him, he simply spurred his horse out of the gates.

"Then ride with me, my Anthony, for we have a long distance to go."

It wasn't until they were three hours down the road that he spoke again, knowing that Anthony did not believe him. He drew the Casket from his saddlebag and touched a finger to it, feeling the change come over his skin.

"Do you still hold fast to your ownership?"

(Yay!!!!)

Anthony’s caste did not tend to worry about the outliers of Asgard. Anthony had been to many Realms with Loki during his time, mostly to Vanaheim, but he’d met a variety of races and species and so he did not at all have much in mind for the monsters or the enemies of those better than himself. He watched as Loki’s skin shifted to a deep blue, white lines tracing his face, eyes burning a deep crimson, and, still upon his horse, shrugged.

“You’re still you. I’ve seen you change your form so often now that I have no idea what you really look like anyway.” That wasn’t the truth but Anthony wanted to demonstrate how little he cared. “The only thing I don’t like about this is that if you touch me, you’ll probably kill me. Otherwise, it’s not bad at all. I’d be able to find you more easily in a crowd. And, not that you care, the shade of your eyes happens to be my favorite color.” Anthony only wore greens and golds, but he liked to create in reds. That had nothing to do with Thor’s colors, it was just a personal preference. Red was flashy. He liked flashy.

Once all of that was out, he crossed his arms and leaned over the bridal, smell of horse in his nostrils.

“So…uh… Okay. What are you going to do? Freeze the fire giants? Or will they melt you? Technically cold is the dominant force. Nothing gets hot, it just loses it’s chill…so… What can I do to help?”

Of all the reactions that he could have expected, this was not it, and Loki felt a sudden and powerful surge of affection for his slave. He removed his hand from the Casket and allowed his skin to change back to Asgardian hue, slowing his horse to a trot so that he may better speak with Anthony.

"You must do what you can to keep the forces of our armies away, they may try to attack me as I fight the Fire Giants, and that would spell disaster."

He would have Anthony by his side in the fight, but there was nothing a Midgardian could do against those from Muspelheim and even the Casket would surely freeze him where he stood. Neither would be particularly noble ends for such an intelligent and loyal slave.

"Thank you, my friend."

Not something he would repeat in front of others, both knew where their relationship must be, but Anthony deserved the honour for his reactions.

Anthony didn’t know Thor very well, despite his relationship to the other prince’s property. Loki sometimes spent the evening with him, and Anthony would bunk in with Steven and the others and they would just spend the night talking. Knowing one’s servants did not equate to knowing one’s owner, however, and though Loki spoke often of Thor with affection, Anthony found him to be a little brutish. Would Thor believe the fairytales about the Jotun? Were they fairytales? A thousand years was nothing. Most of the Asgardians alive today remembered the war. It would be like someone stealing at the village, three years later and those still unclaimed would remember the price the person paid for that pettiness.

Thor had been but a child, but surely he knew of his father’s actions…and the ramifications that came of the casket being put into Asgard’s vault. It was a trick situation.

“I’ll speak with Steven. If you can give yourself cover, do it. I will do my best to figure out a method of distraction but in all honesty, my prince, I think fire giants will pretty much be distraction enough. And no armies have yet been sent…just the right vanguard that the Warriors Three command, right? And they should still be behind us.”

Which meant that Loki would have precious time. And perhaps only reveal himself to his brother. Not that Thor might notice. The prince said he was going to survey the damage but they both knew that they would come upon a field of battle of Thor’s making upon their arrival.

Loki did not know what Thor would do, but he did not think that it would be pleasant. They had both been told horrible tales of Jotunheim by their tutors, though now he understood why neither of their parents had been keen to tell the stories of bloodthirsty Frost Giants. Thor was not someone who often thought beyond the surface of a story, he would surely not care about anything beyond what he was presented with.

There was little to say to Anthony beyond a nod of acceptance that he should speak with Steven and attempt to assist in that way, all they could do past that was speed their horses as much as possible to try and gain all the time on the army behind them that they could. Odin falling into the Odin-Sleep would delay their departure, and armies travelled more slowly than two lone travellers, but their lead would not gain them more than a day or two.

It felt like forever when they finally reached the outskirts of the battle. Loki changed his clothes to simple leather and then took out the Casket, in a perhaps vain hope that Thor would not recognise his brother beneath the blue skin and red eyes. He could see the fray not too far away, and he leaped from his horse before he could kill it with the cold of his skin.

"Go, Anthony! Ride fast, and may we meet again."

With that, he plunged towards the battle with a great wave of ice appearing to slam into the Fire Giants that Thor currently engaged.

Mjolnir did not wish to simply be used for flight, and Thor decided that he could not do other than provide his steadfast privilege with the honour of destruction. It had been tested in battle, both by his hand and other hands before him, but today it wished to taste the fires of the raiding party sent by their raiding party. Who was Thor to deny something forged in the heart of a dying star it’s only wish?

He was ankle deep in lava by the time that Loki and Anthony arrived and Steven, clad in armour himself which gleaned in the low light of midnight sparked by the molten inners of the giants, paused in his efforts of rescuing those he could from under rubble to blink at his friend. “Anthony—“

“How fares the battle?” Anthony had no intention of fighting today. All he could hear were fires and yells…and growls from up ahead. “I’m going to guess it’s fine… I can hear Prince Thor batting the giants away.”

Singlehandedly. Asgardians that had joined the fight to protect the village had perished. Steven looked exhausted and desperate. “Have you brought reinforcements?”

“They’re coming,” he said truthfully as the sky lit up in shades of bluish white. That would be Loki. Good. It was too dark for Thor to see him. Hopefully he would ignore the influx of cool air.

Steven had never fought in a battle before, not truly, and he had not expected it to be this way. Never had he been more aware of how inferior Midgardians were to pretty much every other race in the Nine Realms, they were weak and vulnerable. To see Thor battle against giant columns of fire, to feel the heat even up to half a mile away, it made him feel helpless. Not that he shied from the fighting, it was not in him to run away.

He was covered in dust, dirt, and blood. His legs actually shook at the knee from exhaustion, but he kept pulling the rubble away from villagers, gesturing for Anthony to help out. There were still trapped.

"Prince Loki is here to help Prince Thor?" Steven sounded hopeful. Even one more Asgardian was better than nothing.

Loki was indeed helping. He had never felt such power in all his life, the sensation of ice flowing through him mingled with the seidr in a pure way that told him that this was what he had been born from. Fire Giants fell like ants at his feet, unable to stand up to a Jotun sorcerer wielding such a great power as the Casket. He had little choice but to take his fight near to Thor, there were ten surrounding him and he would not let his brother die.

Hopefully Thor would only see a mysterious stranger offering assistance, even if that stranger was a Jotun, rather than his brother.

Half a day later, when the Warriors Three brought their portion of the vanguard to the field of battle, they would find a worn out, bloody, and grinning Thor sat atop a pile of fire giants turned to ice. Mjolnir was nearby, fiery blood cooled to slag upon it. He seemed somewhat older, tested and wiser as he rose only when the Lady Sif climbed the pyramid of dead towards him.

"Prince Thor, you have--"

"My fells were many but Mjolnir possesses not the ability to turn great fire to great ice. I had helped from a small Jotun, a sorcerer of great prowess. She was beautiful in her might and her ability to command the very heat from the hearts of our attacks to turn hard and cold." Of course he assumed that the creature only glimpsed beside him was a woman. Jotun had no genders but on Asgard, those powerful with magic were female. He did not once consider his brother had been the one to devistated the forces before him. It was too out of the realms of possibility for him.

Sif was confused. "Thor. How would any Jotnar come to Asgard? And why would any help?"

"I know only what I saw," Thor said as he was joined by his friends. He assumed his brother would be around somewhere too. Or perhaps he had stayed back with their father for awhile and would be leading his own portion of the army up behind them. He wanted badly to tell this tale to his brother. Loki would appreciate it. He was a long time scholar of the conquered Realms. "It is not unusual for the conquered to prove themselves in battle against the enemies of their betters. Perhaps Jotunheim is willing to rejoin the Nine Realms in priveledge. I must find this sorceress. I must speak with her."

He was smitten and Sif was not pleased.

Loki had fought with the power of the Casket enhancing his natural abilities, he had been raging ice and destruction, and it had been magnificent. He forgot his fear that Thor would recognise him when he heard a call of thanks to the 'sorceress'. It stung that even now, Thor would think of magic for woman only. Had he listened to none of their lessons as children? Did he not know that the Jotnar did not have genders? All Jotnar could both father and bear children, perhaps that was why Loki felt so at home in the skin of both man and woman.

Once the battle had ended, he had retreated to find Anthony and gain refreshment, before attending to changing his form to that of something more womanly. A slight curve, a difference to the jawline, to make himself even less recognisable to Thor.

Only then did he allow himself to be found by Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three a little way back looking disapproving, ready to fight at a moment's notice, the blue creature that stood atop the iced-over remains of Muspelheim's first wave of attackers.

Though Anthony had been in Loki's service for half a century, he was a slave. And slaves were not typically something to recognize. Thor barely had. And yet he'd made a name for himself as James had. He'd been doing small repairs and upgrades around the palace for years now. And his loyalty was almost legendary. It was enough that many slaves did not trust him at all. He did not follow the slaves first code. He was Loki's through and through. And so Steven would find him by the Jotun standing high above her kingdom, though he was resting to the side, looking like he was half ready to sleep.

But Thor didn't see him at all.

"Jotun! Are you the sorceress who came to face the scourge of Asgard at the side of her crowned prince?" The formality was just that. Formality. Of course this was the one who had come to him. Jotnar didn't frequent Asgard. They couldn't. "May I join you? I wish only to speak words of thanks to you."

"Thor," Fandral cautioned. "Maybe you should--". He was cut off by a slashing hand of silence.

In offering his loyalty even once he had known what his master was, Anthony had earned Loki's loyalty in return. He would be as highly prized as James had been, he would be given rare freedoms when they were in private, and allowed far more leeway on his actions than many other slaves were given. Though in this moment, his orders were severe and non negotiable, to stay out of sight.

Loki's voice had altered with his form, slightly higher and softer, and there was no recognition on Thor's face. He held the Casket in his hands in open view, not attempting to hide it. He wondered if Thor would even recognise such a treasure, or if he had been so poor a student as to not.

"I have no quarrel with you, you may approach if violence is not your intention."

Loki still had not yet decided how this should be concluded. Would he go back to hiding, only his parents aware that he knew the truth? Could he stomach hiding after knowing what it felt like to use that power?

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appointments this morning

Okay! I shall be around until about 2 my time.

Here I am!

Re: Here I am!

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