fossilised | Jotunheimr

He was still so confused. Everything that happened from the start of battle until his Father returned them to their kingdom had gone exactly the opposite of planned. He was meant to be lauded. He was meant to show his true strength. This was the way of their people. To be warlike was in their blood. It was how they won honour for themselves.

Thor still wasn’t sure that there was to be punishment. He’d come here without dread because surely his Father understood what it was like to try and prove oneself to one’s people. Thor has heard all of the stories of how the Realms were United well before his birth.

Perhaps they were not all true and inflated to make Odin appear to be a greater warrior in his youth than most assumed him to be now, but Thor has never doubted that Odin had conquered. Of course, he could never guess just how much blood was truly spilled but that was a story for another day.

“I am eager to prove myself as you once did,” Thor claimed boldly, chest proud. Odin did not look so proud himself but Thor still believed this all to be show. He assumed he would receive a wrist slap and little more.

He was terrible at guessing motive, despite his keen sense of strategy.

This was what Odin feared seeing in Thor, he didn't want to make the same mistakes with his son as he had made with his daughter. He had raised her to be a conqueror and take all they wanted by force, and it had ended in her going mad with power and out of his control. She had taught him the valuable lesson that a King should not rule by might alone.

He needed to impart this lesson onto Thor before it became too late.

"If that is how you believe a King proves himself, then I have failed you." Odin sounded weary and disappointed. "Our title is All-Father as well as King, we must act as a father to all realms and the peoples within them. That means protection, peace, and prosperity. While a war sometimes cannot be avoided, it should never be sought out. You have not yet learned that lesson, and your belief that the Jotnar are monsters is a foolish fancy of a child. Though we have fought against them, the denizens of Jotunheim are a race of Yggdrasil as are any other, and should not be denigrated so."

Odin held out his hand and Mjolnir flew into it, regret staining his expression and voice.

"You are no longer worthy of this power until you can prove that you will use it as a King should. As you were so keen to visit Jotunheim, you will be exiled there until such time as you have learned your lesson. Laufey-King has agreed that none will actively seek to harm you, but they will defend themselves if you continue your brash insistence on fighting."

“You can’t exile me to Jotunheim,” Thor said, insistently. It made so little sense. Why would his father send him to a place where they had fought and won a war of subjugation not long after his birth? Thor was shocked— The humor slipped from his face as Mjolnir left his grip.

His Father, in abject anger that Thor was standing there with that carefree expression on his face, despite his words and actions, reached for his son’s seals and ripped them from his armour. It faded completely, their innate magic broken and the chinks of his mail were left to fall like dust at his feet.

Odin lifted his hammer, hefted it towards the Bifrost and the last thing Thor could remember was half choking on his hair as he tumbled through the Void to plunk into the ice.

Face first.

It was no better to swallow that then his hair, but he stayed for a moment, trying to rectify what had occurred to him, eyes closed in the imprint of the Bifrost upon the snow.

Odin left his son just enough of his latent magic to be able to survive the harsh frost of the realm he had sent him to, it would do no good to send him to learn a lesson only to kill him in seconds because he could not survive the climate. But no other of his powers would yield to him, no longer would he be the mighty Odinson until he understood the responsibilities that came with that power.

He would find himself not alone whenever he chose to stand up.

A Giant, like the ones in legend, stood mere feet away from him. He stood almost twenty feet tall with muscles to match, lines decorating his dark cobalt skin and eyes as red as blood. If Thor had done his lessons properly then he would understand that those were Kyn lines, the heritage of each Jotnar on his skin, and they would proclaim this to be Laufey-King's third son, Bylestir.

His voice was like cracked ice when he spoke, deep and rumbling.

"Do you live, exiled princeling?"

His hands might not be burning, and his cheek might be without frostbite, but Thor was not as comfortable as he had been just the day before when he had been here last. He couldn’t remember ever being this cold before, and though he wanted to do nothing more than throw his little temper tantrum in private.

The voice had him lifting his head, snow crystals clinging to lengths of blond. His eyes narrowed.

“Speak not to me as if you know me.”

Of course Thor knew nothing about Kyn lines. Of course he had been more interested in tales of bloodshed and war than he had ever been in learning the differences between the sentient species on Yggdrasil. There was no help for it now. Thor pushed himself fully to his feet, standing as tall as possible. He could not come close to this giant’s height, however, even if he craned his neck. And, of course, he tried just that.

Bylestir was not impressed by the brash little Aesir. He may only be a few centuries old, still a child where the Jotnar were concerned even if he towered above this pale-skinned figure, but he knew arrogance when he saw it.

"It may be that you come to know me well."

He had been sent out here because, of Laufey's three available children, he was the least valuable and the slowest to anger. He was not offended at knowing he was the most expendable, it was simply how their culture worked, and he knew it did not mean he was not loved.

"Laufey-King has decreed that you are not to spend this exile alone. He does not trust you not to make trouble alone, and the All-Mother has begged for a chance for you to be educated. You will accompany me to the palace, where you will choose a guide and guardian for yourself."

Thor couldn’t help the look of confusion on his face. He was too proud to say much else and he was sure that if he could show his father that he was once more worthy, he’d be able to go home. From a distance, he could see a flash of the Bifrost once more and he could see the hammer being hurled down towards the mountain. His first thought was to rush after it, but he must play the game of these monsters first.

He squared his shoulders.

“I need no guide but I will not give insult to your offer.” Not out loud at least. All bets were otherwise off. He thought that if he spoke well to this King here, he’d be allowed to go home.

It was worth a shot. And after that, he’d make Mjolnir care for him again and together they would earn their place on Asgard properly.

Bylestir found it amusing that any Aesir thought that they could travel Jotunheim without a guide to assist them. He gestured for Thor to fall in beside him, ignoring the sight of the hammer falling to encase itself in ice. They had all been warned by his father on what would happen, and Mjolnir was of no consequence to him.

"It is no offer, Odinson, it is an order from the King of this realm."

Perhaps Thor thought himself in a realm of monsters, but they were a people with their own hierarchy, and Odin had given them permission to treat his son as if he were any other wandering dignitary. With respect, but not with boundless patience.

"As you have failed to ask, I will introduce myself as we walk. I am Bylestir Laufeybarn, third son of Laufey-King and Farbauti-Consort. You may ask questions of me as we walk, if you so wish."

What Thor wanted to do was anything other than walk beside the giant away from his friends and without his horse or his strength or... Anything. He was silent as shame kicked in while they walked, three strides of Thor’s for each one of Bylestir’s. His shame was less about his actions, however, and more his words to his father. He had not done enough to make him understand, Thor thought, his heart beginning to feel naught but ache. He had been unable to speak with his mother at all on his way to this terrible exile. When would he see her again? Or the Warrior’s Three? Or Sif?

These were the questions Thor wished to be answered but knew in his heart that no get of Laufey could tell him.

He found himself hungering as they arrived at the halls of Jotunheim and Thor leaned back to gaze upon the jagged spires that sliced into the blackness of the sky.

“You do not truly live here,” he asked, his first question if Laufey’s youngest son. He even chuckled, dumbfounded. “How desolate!”

"I do not see my home as desolate, though the land has declined following the theft of the Casket, it will die if it is not returned before long."

Perhaps it was unwise to lay out such vulnerabilities towards one who thought them monsters, but Bylestir was not given to untruths and he held a childish hope that if he could make the Odinson feel for them, then maybe he would be moved to demand the Casket returned to its rightful place.

"There are things you must learn before you stand before Laufey-King and choose your guide. You are little liked and less trusted, you would be wise to choose a lower standing Jotnar, though Laufey-King can refuse you none but himself or a dam heavy with child. You may choose myself, if you wish, but I do not recommend that you request my brothers. Helblindi harbours great anger toward the Aesir, and Loki is a Fýri, so unpredictable."

There were no magic users on Jotunhem. That much Thor knew, as it made strategy against them that much easier. To hear that one of Laufey's get could have the ability to use and tap into seidr made Thor immediately suspicious. Had these being been lying to the All-Father all this time? Could this be all a ruse? But why then would this giant willingly tell him?

Thor was not the smartest man in the Nine Realms, but he was more prideful and childish than he was openly idiotic. He gave Bylestir a glance upwards but fell into silence as they were permitted into the keep itself.

For the moment, word of the casket (stolen, ha!) fell upon deaf ears.

Thor was not used to being so dwarfed and he strode as largely as he could to the chamber where he was to meet the King and choose a companion. He was not at all prepared to see what the hall of a demon king might look like...nor how similar it might be to his father's own throne room. There were many smears in his direction, many curious red eyes. But Thor kept his own facing forward and scowled at the monster on the throne.

"I am Thor, son of Odin All-Father, come in peace and penance but not out of desire to be here. Tell me at once what I must do to leave this place!" Deaf ears indeed.

Laufey-King was twice the size of Bylestir, a towering craggy figure that seemed like he would dwarf a mountain. Unlike Odin's throne room of gold and beauty, Laufey's was ice and austerity, his only clothing the kilt that adult Jotnar war that left his chest bare, and a torque around his neck to denote his station. His red eyes gleamed, and his voice was dry.

"You have those answers already. To send you from my realm is not in my control, the All-Father has chosen to exert his will upon my people again by having you here, your stay is in your hands alone. All I care for is that your presence does not upset my people, and you do not cause war with your idiocy."

From behind the throne two more figures stepped; one of a size with Laufey himself, though slightly more slender and with a scar running along his face. The other was only Thor's size, lithe and slender, though he bore the Kyn lines of his two brothers.

"So you will take a guide to force you to temperance while you remain here. You may choose any you wish, but know that you must heed their word as law."

"The only law is that of my father," Thor said stubbornly, raising his voice to be heard in the cavernous great hall. There were murmurs that sounded like ice flows ebbing and flowing, like snows tumbling down a mountain. Thor attempted to stand his ground, his hands morphing to fists. He did so want to fight but he could not. A touch here would kill him, of that he so keenly was aware.

He no longer had the protection and might of Mjolnir and his father had stripped nearly all of his being from him. Thor's breath came out in icy bursts as the massive king stared at his subjugator's child. "And your father's law demands this as us as much as of you. Choose."

Thor turned slowly, surveying what seemed to be all living Jotnar, young and old. He could not tell one apart from another (save for the runt of course), but he decided he would be hornery and go completely against virtue and reason and kindness shown to him by Bylestir.

"I choose Loki," Thor said loudly, the one Jotnar he was not meant to chose at all.

A ripple of noise swept across the room at the temerity of the Aesir. Did he know what he had asked, to be given one of the precious few seidr users as a guide? Was this a calculated move, a way of saying this his worth was so great that he demanded such a thing for a simple guide? Half expected Laufey-King to refuse, but he was bound by the guestrite, something that the Jotnar adhered to far more closely than most other realms.

Jaw tight, he gestured a massive hand and the runt stepped forward and further into the light, revealing that he was different from his brethren in more than just size. Where they all wore simple leather kilts, Loki wore one with silver thread woven across it in delicate embroidery, and several jewelled bangles on his arms. He also had hair, where most Jotnar were bald, long black hair that was plaited into intricate braids down his back.

He grinned, a grin of amusement and triumph, as he came to stand in front of the Aesir.

"I am Loki Laufeybarn of Jotunheim, Odinson, and I believe your choice a wise one."

Bylestir groaned and covered his face with a hand, as if watching a big cat toying with prey that could not hope to escape now. Why had the Aesir prince chosen so foolishly?!

Thor, however, was pleased as well by his choice. Loki was still monstrous but he was also different from he rest and his choice seemed to upset the others. It was a wise choice, then, for Thor had not learned humility despite the shame he had forgotten that he felt over disappointing his father. Now there was just the curiosity of the ridiculously unworthy. Thor, as expected, started off this conversation on as bad a start as he had with Loki’s father.

“Call me Thor,” the idiot said jovially. “And tell me how is you’re so much smaller than the others? Am I again being had over?”

There was silence from the crowd. Utter silence. Thor, who had lifted his arms expecting laughs or jeers from these creatures, frowned, shoulders shrugging rather than dropping.

It was dangerous to insult one as Loki, not simply because he was of the Seidr but because he was least likely to listen to the decree of the king to bring Thor no harm. “Bilgesnipe have your icy tongues?”

Loki was delighted in this Aesir prince.

He was such a fool, like a dog in the skin of a man, and he was an embarrassment to the house of Odin. It would please him greatly to parade him around his homeland and humiliate him in every way that he could think of, while never overstepping the bounds of what he had been told to do by his dam.

He could almost feel Laufey-King beginning to stand, to answer this insult with angry words and a refusal, but he cut off the words before they could begin. His own tone was light and amused, as if Thor had said something as simple as a small child who had asked why the sky was up and the ground was down.

"I am smaller for the same reason that you have the same brains as a rutting cur, because our blood runs true and we are the true sons of our Houses."

He was a runt, a Seidr user, and the pride of the royal line. Thor was an idiot because he came from a line of idiots.

“Every second born is less a giant?” No, Thor did not understand the insult. Loki would have to be far more creative to shame the son of Odin. He had not truly lived before, he had never been exposed to nasty jests and insult was part of his friend-culture back at home. Fandral was very fond of poking fun at him and Thor had learned to laugh at himself. And to laugh at everything.

Because nothing in life for a boy destined to rule all was naught but fun and games, right?

He actually rather enjoyed being called a rutting cur, too. It was a different sort of slang than he was used to and he intended to use it back home to prove how he had grown culturally to Sif. She’s hit him. They’d fight. It would be a fantastic time had by all!

“And has hair? I like your shiny skirt though.” There were icy tinklings of gasps throughout the audience, but Thor’s steady blue eyes were filled with numbing delight at having found one creature here not so horrible as the rest.

"I am firstborn, Odinson, know what you have asked to be your guide, lest your ignorance shame even the dull creatures you came from."

Loki was not offended, he would have been if these insults had come from one of their own who had understood the weight of what he was saying. But the Odinson was obviously ignorant, completely so, which was a shame in itself. He was to be King of the Realm Eternal one day, did he have no training? Did he do no study on the other realms and cultures that he would supposedly be protectorate over?

Even Grynd, last in line for the throne and a Jarl of a far northern state had done his lessons on the other realms, for to do otherwise was to risk a fool on the throne, and that could not be allowed.

"Perhaps if you have such a fancy to it then we shall have one made for you, and you may show the whole court your worth in wearing it."

The embroidered kilt was only for those with a connection to seidr, though a certain embroidered kilt was also worn by the very young or infirm to denote they could not yet take part in battle.

In less than an hour’s time, Thor was happily wearing the gifted kilt, proudly moving down the corridor at Loki’s left. There were strange looks given to the pair, though Thor had yet to truly read the emotions of the Jotnar and could not tell how amused they were at the shame of the princeling. Perhaps it didn’t matter if Thor was not aware that he was the butt of the joke, however, for Odin’s son was all smiles despite the chill he felt, chest bare and hair left a scraggly mess.

He was sure that, as Heimdall was likely watching, his father would have him home in no time. He was showing humility, if forced, cultural sensitivity, and he had even made a friend in the form of a prince. Surely that would do?

“If you are to be my guide,” Thor said of Loki, pausing at a junction in the hall with his hands on his hips, “I would like you to guide me to the peak over there.” His gesture was vaguely towards the range of crags to the east through a naturally formed gape in the tower wall. “I will fetch Mjolnir there.”

A friend? No, not at all, Loki was a serpent and Thor was all the more a fool if he could not see the mocking behind his smiles and polite words. The Silvertongue was not one to win battles with brawn, and he knew that many in his court already believed that he had got a magnificent point over on the Odinson by making him visibly appear a child to any who saw him.

"I will guide you if you answer my three questions correctly. After all, have you not been brought here to learn more of our people?"

That was something that Loki took seriously. He did not want another tyrant like Odin Spearshaker on the throne, he wanted one who would give back the Casket and who saw the Jotnar as actual beings, not monsters.

"What is the name of my dam-- or 'mother', is the term I believe you use, the Jotnar who birthed me? What started the war on Midgard? Who is most likely to be King when Laufey-King returns to the ice?"

Riddles were just a bit beyond Thor and he cared even less for trivia. His eyes narrowed and his hands dropped from their triumphant pose. He had not thought this punishment would last so long. Surely he had gathered all he needed to go home. His quest was complete, was it not? And likely in record time! Thor was still greatly optimistic about his abilities here and had learned exactly nothing.

“I do not see what these questions have to do with fetching my hammer,” he snapped. “Nor was I tasked with learning about you or your people so much as a lesson my father failed to fully define. I care not for who your mother is, as you must likely care little to know of mine. The war for Midgard was caused because your people attempted to overtake a Realm that was not theirs and kill the rightful inhabitants. And if you are first born, you are heir. Though it would likely be better for the king to chose a taller brother. Now show me the proper way to go or I will go myself.”

"You are wrong on all counts, Odinson."

Loki dropped his frivolous tone for once to a true sneer, to show how abysmally ignorant he found the man in front of him. Surely he had reached his majority already, and yet he knew nothing of other realms and, apparently, very little about his own history if he truly believed the war had been caused only by their presence on Midgard.

"You are not permitted to wander without your guide, and I do not think your father will think you suitably cowed if you disobey so readily. If you wish to retrieve the Star-Hammer, I suggest you find those answers. I shall even gift you the first one for free - my dam, you have met, I was birthed by Laufey-King."

Though Thor wanted more than anything to be utterly incensed by Loki, he found the final revelation to be too confusing for him to process. “Your father... is your mother...”

Any Asgardian of Thor’s age or younger would find this hard to accept. There were certain truths of nature and one was that a female carried and bore a child. It was her right and her duty. For a man to take that from her would be a terrible crime. Or so Thor thought. The subjugation of Jotunheim had closed off all scholarly pursuits of the mysteries and marvels of the Realm. It had not entirely been Odin’s intention but it was easy to Other and vilify the people that caused great deaths throughout Asgard.

To subjugate them had brought blood upon the soil and no family was unaffected.

Even Thor’s, though he had never been told that Hela was kin and her casting down to Hel was not priveledge but punishment. As was his casting down to Jotunheim.

"No, my mother is my mother, if you insist on using your word for it. Farbauti-Consort sired me, and would be my father by your reckoning. How is it that you are heir to the golden dias of the Realm Eternal, and you do not even know the simplest thing about one of the realms of Yggdrasil?"

He asked the question as though he were genuinely curious, though there was real contempt beneath his words. How could any King raise a child for rulership that was so unaware of who the peoples around him would be?

"Jotnar are not Aesir, not yet mortal, we do not have two genders. We are all men and we are all women, we may all sire and dam as we wish, though it is only the children carried to term by the King who are of the royal household."

“Knowledge of Jotunheim has always been forbidden,” Thor said simply, though it made him frown. At last, after the day he had spent here and the hours previously spent trying to hunt a monster with his friends, there was some sort of sense coming over him. He realised that what he’d just said made relatively little sense at all.

Asgard had been to war before. Multiple times. He’d battled outliers since he was half a millennia old, happily swinging his sword at the smaller of the opposing forces.

But that had never rendered any of their previous enemies as beyond knowledge.

How could Thor know, when it was kept so secret, the man his father had been prior to the sundering of Jotunheim when all knowledge of it was covered up and changed? No wonder the Jotun were demonized. It kept anyone from being curious.

The whole thing rubbed Thor poorly and he stood there with an angry, partially disgruntled look on his face.

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