fossilised | Jotunheimr

“Facts— I have been told my own facts. I can not be sure any are true.” Why did his father send him here? Thor could not puzzle the All-Father out on this one. He could puzzle nothing out. His entire life may have been told a lie or worse, he was meant to puzzle the lies of these people in the name of his kingdom and for his own betterment.

Thor did not have the ability to know which line of thought to believe but he found himself, after less than a day, unable to hate these people. They had a strange physiology and a stranger way of being. They were both male and female, both of ice and of... of whatever Loki was. Flesh and cold and magic.

He was much like his mother. Vanir but more than that. Different. And a tale weaver as much as this deformed Jotnar was.

Thor tried not to look so indecisive but his temper was raging.

He thumped his fist upon the table and sat back, ignoring the cold along his spine. “Tell me your truth. I will share mine. Together we may understand which is a lie.”

Bylestir watched the show of temper with mild consternation. In some ways, Thor reminded him a little of Loki, so quicksilver and odd compared to most Jotnar, but he was even more so for his temper was unknown and his 'facts' even more so. He took a seat at the table, and folded his arms.

"I will tell you the facts I have been taught and, though you may mislike them, I ask that you do not strike out at me for speaking what I have learned."

With that out of the way...

"Jotunheim was ever a prosperous realm. The Midgardians may call the Aesir Gods, but we are older, we are something far older than a God. We are one with our land in a way no other race is, and it made us strong. We had fine artisans of silver-working, and delicacies in pelts, meat, and fish that were valued in many places and made our realm rich. Though our magic users were few, they were oft strong enough to rival even the Vanir and so our realm flourished. Until Asgard's eye fell upon us. The King and his firstborn daughter sought to steal treasures from every land and conquer their peoples, to make Asgard's reign supreme. Some realms fell easily, some willingly went into vassalage, but Jotunehim refused to bend the knee."

He paused, only for a moment to gather his thoughts.

"At the time we were still at peace with Asgard, though we owed no fealty to them, and we did not believe we were in danger. But Hela and her armies came through with stealth and force, a tactical attack that wiped out all but a half dozen of our magic users and crippled our forces. They stripped our land bare. We needed to regroup if we were to hope to take back our homeland, and so we fled to Midgard. Odin ruled this as an invasion, an excuse to openly declare war. It was bloody and desperate, and ultimately we were left crippled when he took the Casket of Ancient Winters from us, the heart of our realm. Loki, my eldsibb, was the last child born before the Casket was taken, in the dying throes of the war, and he is the last Fyri to be born to us since then. Our realm has been mostly closed off since then, you are one of the first Aesir to set foot on Jotnar ice since the war ended."

While Thor was not entirely pleased that he’d come off as being a brute, he understood that he was as unknown as Jotunheim was to him. There were still many giants alive that had fought in the war, that was the truth of the matter, and the losing side did not have the ability to rewrite the war as their opponents so often did. As Bylestir spoke, Thor could not keep belief from crowding into his thoughts. That did not mean he understood it, but there was no ring of lie, as much as he wanted to shout that surely there was.

He rubbed a broad hand, minuscule to most of the Jotnar, across his lips and though he wanted to pace, he did not know where he had left the clothing he had been exiled in and he would not strut around naked and vulnerable here in the camp of people who hated him.

And, likely, rightfully so.

“You say that Hela, who rules the land of the honoured dead, is my sister? That is impossible,” he laughed. “I am my father’s first born.”

Of all the things that Bylestir expected Thor to dispute about his tale, that he was not the firstborn of his father was not it. How could he not even know about his own older sister? The Jotnar did not really know what had come after the war, which had been bloodier and more merciless than Odin had been comfortable with and opened his eyes to Hela's ambitions and power.

It had been that which had decided him to imprison her and reform his rulership, raise his infant son in a way that would better fit what he wished for Asgard's future.

"I-- do not know what to say to that. I have been taught that Hela is Odin's firstborn child, but you must know your family better than ours. Perhaps it is a mistranslation, such as you do not understand our dams and sires?"

“Is Loki telling everyone of my ignorance?” Loki was so much like his lost friends that Thor wanted to find the runt and toss him around a bit. He obviously could not as he was meant to stay peace braided, but that did not lessen both his dearly wanted nostalgia... and his partial admiration. That Loki danced to his own beat was remarkable. That people who had been so obviously wronged could still allow such a thing to occur was even more so. “I must end that, Bylestir. I know I chose poorly in my guide, as it ought to have been you, but since you are likely here with me now at your brother’s behest, I need for you to tell me all that you know of your people. I will not be caught without answers the next time he attempts to use that silvertongue against me.”

Thor could stay up for many weeks. He need not sleep, though he enjoyed it, nor eat, if he had not the time for such things, and he found that the knowledge meant to be his reigned supreme today.

As long as Bylestir was willing to speak, Thor would be willing to listen.

It was a strange transformation for Thor but he needed to know what to do.

They would not have many weeks.

Loki was not one to give up a prize like the Aesir prince for too long, but Bylestir would at least be allowed one night to speak to Thor. He did not have a natural gift for storytelling, but he had a gentleness, kindness, and patience which belied any stories that had been told about monsters.

He explained the nature of a family - that it was only usually the dam who had a hand in raising the children, and that the sire was of much less importance. Jotnar did not equate sex and love, but once they had taken a consort, that was for life and should not be disgraced with other dalliances. He explained the chief trades of the Jotnar, how they had herding nomads, and that they were a series of Jarl led territories ruled over by the King. As well as how important the rare seidr users were, and how it allowed Loki to get away with much more than other Jotnar might be allowed.

By the dawn, Thor might have a much better idea as to Jotunheim, and perhaps the wrongs that Asgard had done to it. Loki interrupted as the light began to pool over the horizon, splitting the light from the ice into a rainbow prism of colours. He needed only to arch an eyebrow to have Bylstir hurrying to stand and leave.

"I see that you have taken the favour of my youngest sibb, should I find offence in that, Odinson?"

“He has not yet attempted to ridicule me while I have already been cast so low,” Thor said immediately. Bylestir had earned from Thor as much consternation as respect. His knowledge was key, but he had learned half through that he was not her in his majority and Thor was left as unsure of what to believe as he had been when he started the afternoon proceeding. “If you must feel jealousy for kin, then do so.” Thor was weary. It was in his voice and in the slump of his shoulders.

Odin has allowed him the strength to withstand this Realm but it has taken much out of him. Where Thor has once fought for weeks on end in glorious battle, one night had left him drained.

“I would rest now and remove this child’s frock you tricked me into wearing. Do you still refuse to show me to my bed, Loki? Shall I rest here for your further amusement?” Whatever Bylestir has shared with Thor, it had soured his pride. The blond smirked. “Or will you instead rouse my spirits with well praised tales and grand gestures of shape shifting?”

Bylestir had shown nothing but love and awe for his kin.

"Should you wish me to tell my tales, I will do so, but not when you are in so poor a humour as this. I am no common feast day entertainment to be called upon at whim, I am Silvertongue."

Yet though his words were arrogant and cutting, there was a small smirk behind them. Thor would need to learn that this was simply how Loki was, and there was rarely malice in his mischief or words unless he chose to put it there. At the moment, he did not choose as much, he had gained his point for the kilt and that would suffice for now.

"I will take you to your bedchamber only after you have answered my final question. Did I not tell you that those three answers were my price for guiding you anywhere? That holds true whether you wish a guide to the Star-Hammer, or just to your furs."

He gestured to send Bylestir away, though he gave him a look of fondness in return. There was no jealousy between this Kyn, he loved his younger brothers both, though Jotnar ways of displaying their sentiment were less demonstrative than those of some other realms.

To his furs? Thor was eternally grateful that Jotun had furs on their beds. Otherwise he might have a very difficult night of lying around on frozen stone. He’d had worse but not much worse.

“I have not yet determined the truth, but your brother— “sister? Thor did not know and so stuck with the male turn of phrase. “—informs me that the bloody rule of a sister I did not know I had prompted an attempt to flee from war, and that seems to have brought upon the All-Father’s wrath for an invasion that had never been intended nor carried out.” Thor chose his words carefully. He gave weight to them but he also gave a healthy dose of skepticism.

His eyes were keen as he watched the smallest of the frost giants.

“I want to know the truth of my birth. And the truth of my family. And I can not yet do that without my clothing and without Mjolnir.” It worried him, however. “Will you help me or will you continue to sneer and twist my words?”

The All-Father sent him here for no mere exile. Of that he was now certain.

"Can I not do both?"

Loki made a twisting motion with his hands and Thor would find himself clothed. Not in his old Aesir clothing, but in stiff leathers with warm white fur stitched in places designed to help ward off the chill. A kilt, still, but a plain one such as all the adult Jotnar wore, was also gifted.

"That is a worthy task, and I find that I am also interested in the truth of your family. I was born as the war ended, I remember nothing of it, but I have lived with the legacy of the death it brought for a millennia now. But if you believe that I will cease to sneer when you act the fool, then you have much left to learn."

He gestured for Thor to follow him back into the corridors of the palace, where he would lead him to one of the guest rooms. Austere as with everywhere else, but with a huge bed covered in furs in the centre.

"I pity you, if you have lived a life where words of scorn are few, for it means you have lacked true friends. Those who care for you will not hesitate to correct you, not merely simper at your every word."

“I wonder of my friends, but they likely know nothing of this. Ignorance is not something I have much skill with.” It wasn’t true, obviously. Thor was brimming with ignorance, though by its very nature, he knew absolutely nothing of it. It was what angered him the most. His Father made him a fool, and nearly a murderer of the innocent.

It struck him to the core.

Inside the room he hoped would not be his for too long, and wearing clothing that suited him far more than what he had initially been given, Thor skirted the bed to stand instead at the window. This too faced the crag where Mjolnir waited for him. His heart and his mind focused on that point.

“I have my whole life hated your race.” His hands settled on the marbled window ledge. “And all for lies. Your tales may not hold truth but your people are not the monsters I thought them to be. And for my deeds I would offer recompense.”

Thor has never had to admit he was wrong before and it made him bristle.

“Unless, of course, I am devoured in my sleep. In which case, I was right. We shall see come evening.”

"Ah, was that so transparent?"

Loki gave a great heaving sigh and came to stand by the window with Thor, the light from the thin ice that formed the pane reflected from deep red eyes brightly.

"I had hoped that you would sleep ignorant of my desire to devour you. Never have I tasted Aesir flesh and I have long dreamed of sampling it. Fool."

It was a kinder given 'fool' than most of his others. He could see that the Odinson was trying and that he likely had not known the deceptions of his house before now, but it was little enough excuse. Had Loki been raised in such a situation, he would have ferreted out the truth without rest or mercy, he would not have allowed himself to be lied to.

"Sleep in peace, Odinson. Your rest will not be disturbed by hungering monsters."

How could Thor have known he had been lied to? The tale had been neatly told. The All-Father has reigned in peace for as long as Thor has been able to remember and all who came to the palace loved him. His son was sent out to squash any uprisings, believing that it was for the better of the Realm without ever knowing that the blood the all-Father had spilled in the past caused them.

But now that Thor did know, he would, like Loki, determine the truth. Alas, whatever was done to weaken him in punishment, however, did require rest indeed.

He lifted an arm to his nose to sniff, arching his eyebrows at his guide.

“Best find another Aesir. I am over ripe,” he said, a grin on his face.

Thor could not help himself but like Loki. The Jotun was terrible in many ways but wonderful in others. And Thor was always quick to make friends. His personality almost demanded it.

He did not find rest in his sleep, however, and woke to darkness in distress. He was sitting up but still in his furs when Loki returned, a dark expression on his face. “I have never had nightmares. I dreamed of fury and fire that I could not stop. And now I hunger. I have been told of the tasty fish your kind enjoy but I would rather hunt my own food. Tell me. Will we find beasts on the journey to the crags?”

"I do not think you are suited for hunting Jotunheim game, but I have heard stories of your prowess in battle so perhaps you will surprise me."

Loki already knew that Thor's sleep had not been restful, he had kept watch for much of the night for, as the chosen guide, he was also trusted to make certain that their Aesir "guest" did not wander or cause any issues. He had received visits from both siblings, his dam, his sire, and four members of the council who were all concerned - some for him, most for the Aesir in his care, because they knew what Loki was capable of.

He looked fresh and not weary, however, dressed in fresh clothing and his hair plaited in a more elaborate style with jewels and beads woven in.

"You are so sure that your trial is only to retrieve the Star-Hammer from where it has fallen? This seems a poor and flimsy trial."

“Do you forget so easily that I was also exiled to a world to learn temperance by one who may well have shown none himself? If I was not to journey to retrieve Mjolnir, what then would be the end of my quest?” He was relying too much on what he’d always been told of quests in stories and ballads. The warrior was always sent to retrieve an item of worth to prove their own worth. As he could not fly and the distance seemed great indeed, Thor did believe that once he held the hammer in his grasp, he would be restored and this would all end. “Guide me well, Loki, and journey back with me to Asgard. To retrieve my birthright is only the halfway point of this epic.”

What a fool. Thor was being less arrogant now than he had been before, but he was still attributing his punishment as a quest for glory and not a journey towards personal growth.

And he even assumed Loki would wish to journey to a land of his oppressors! Thor did not think his words through no matter the greatness of his intentions.

He dressed quickly and joined Loki to start their journey, boasting of the beasts he had hunted.

Evidently he’d already forgotten he had been robbed of his strength.

Loki led Thor to what he might recognise as stables, but there were no horses within. Instead, they housed creatures with thick blubbery hides, near five times the size of even Asgardian stallions, with five small beady eyes and two horns at their head. A saddle sat high above their heads, which Loki easily vaulted up and into.

"It may be best that we ride together, you will be unfamiliar with Sniva. Though if you wish to attempt to ride one alone, I will welcome the entertainment."

Thor, it turned out, was not as boring as he had first feared he might be. True, he was not the wittiest, but he had an earnestness to him which was oddly charming.

"Perhaps if one throws you off, it will knock sense into your head. Take me to Asgard, you fool, do you wish to begin war anew?"

“You would be guest of the prince,” Thor said, grunting as he climbed the beast that shifted beneath him as he tried to move. It was not his most elegant of moves but he had very little choice. His honour had been nearly marred by Loki’s seeming taunts and he could not now ride with the Jotnar prince if his pride was to remain intact.

At least Loki would get his laugh, first as Thor fell into foul smelling, weedy hay, and then as the sniva bucked him off into the wall. At least when all was said and done, Thor’s traumatized beast (Aesir did smell horrible evidently) was left behind and Thor was left frowning at Loki’s shoulder as he wrapped one leather clad arm around his narrow waist.

“Cease your chuckling,” he muttered as he felt another ripple run through the Jotnar.

He was insufferable!

Loki could not and would not stop laughing, he would hold precious for a long time the image of Aesir legs sticking out of hay, and he took great delight in showing off how well he handled his own beast and how it seemed to both adore him and obey him without question.

"What cause would I have for mirth?"

He made sure to sound as offended and innocent as possible, all while still laughing.

"I am certain that all Asgard's princes are as gainly and graceful as you have proven yourself today, truly an honour to your House."

It was difficult for Thor to stay sore for long, however, even if Loki teased and laughed at him for the next half an hour or so. Maybe it was because the other was so jovial, maybe because his laugh was so delightfully sincere, that Thor ended up laughing with him. “When first I discovered that I could fly with the proper swing of Mjolnir’s thong, I was even worse off than back at the stable. Many buildings in Asgard needed new roofs that summer and many new trees needed to be planted!”

He delighted, however awful this place was, in that singular, happy laugh. Loki riled him up and just as easily put him back at ease.

Even if the laughter was all at his own expense, Thor continued to tell stories of giant snakes he tried to hug and barrels of beer he drank to the bottom of. And he would have continued if he hadn’t noticed that they were being stalked. His smile was almost palpable.

“Stop the progress of this beast,” Thor said, his grip on Loki loosening. “I believe our meal is ready to be defeated.”

It was odd to hear Thor tell such tales that all ended in his humiliation, he had seemed so arrogant before that it hadn't seemed likely that he would know how to laugh at himself. But he told the tales with a generosity and humour that elevated him somewhat in Loki's eyes, and made him wish to see the true might of Mjolnir unleashed for, even if it were in the hands of an Aesir, it would be a spectacle to see.

Had Thor learned nothing from their mount? All the beasts on Jotunheim were much larger and more vicious than the ones he was used to, and he truly thought to hunt one alone for their food? Ah well, he would make sure the princeling didn't end up killed, but he would certainly enjoy the sport of watching him.

"Then I shall wait and watch, prepared to compose a ballad of this hunt to be sung at the next feast day, so do make sure you impress me; or, if you are to die, make it suitably dramatic, for a dull song will win no favours."

“Have you learned nothing? I have been telling you stories all this day of my nigh indestructibility!” Evidently Thor thought that stories of his antics were actually tales to illustrate how much of a licking he could take. No wonder he did not find shame in his initial defeats before explaining how well the outcome went.

He slide from the sniva with ease, dodging the kick he assumed to be incoming, and walked backwards away from it with his arms open.

“Prepare a fire! We will dine upon—“ Thor was pushed face first into the snow as a snarling beast of living stone and fatty hide pounced upon him from the shadow of a mountain ridge he had not been looking towards.

He was face first into the snow for a long while. Too long. His strength had left him, and though his father had granted him the ability to withstand the cold, that did not extend to the creatures that lived in the cold.

Truly?

That was the might of Odin Spearshaker's heir, the great Thor Thunderer? He had been laid flat by one swing of the grimr's claws? Ridiculous. Though he had not expected the prince to succeed, he had at least thought to see a battle first, but it seemed that Thor was not about to stir from the snow.

The creature was chased off in short order - a few seidr tricks from Loki, and his sniva's charge, and it fled - and he gathered the Odinson up and onto the beast. It looked as though he were not in danger to die, though his bruises and perhaps a few broken ribs were evident.

He would awaken back in the furs of his guest room, with a Jotnar stood over him that he would not know. Taller even than Laufey-King, but slender like a willow tree, he was dabbing salve over Thor's completely naked body.

Having not thought to wake in bed, Thor wondered for a moment if the last few hours had been but a dream. He turned his head to the left without opening his eyes and closed them once more before they shot open again to the creature leaning over him. His eyes narrowed.

“I need not a companion for my furs,” he said, almost wary, before the Jotun pressed a cloth against his chest and pain radiated from the point of contact.

He had not been dreaming. This was almost more than he could bear, unfortunately. And his body rejected the touch of anyone. He pushed at the hands, which did indeed move aside for a moment before returning.

Thor’s jaw quivered. Odin has cursed him. “Where is Loki?”

"You are far too small for me to want to share your furs, Odinson. Be thankful that I desire peace more than I desire your death, and do not test my patience by making my aid more difficult to issue."

Farbauti, for it was the King's consort and Loki's sire, spoke with all the anger and contempt that most of a certain age felt for the Aesir and, worse, one of Odin's get. She understood why Laufey had agreed to allow Frigga and the All-Father to exile their son here, she understood that it could lead to a mending their realm greatly needed, but such crimes were not so easily forgotten.

"Were I to have my way, you would never lay eyes upon any of my sons again, but it is not my way that prevails here. Loki has gone to fetch you some food from the kitchens, he will return shortly."

Thor vaguely remembered this giant from the throne room, vaguely remembered the way she had looked when he called the name of her son to be his guide, and felt an odd mixture of shame and pride to have her be his attendant. He imagined his own mother would behave this way as well to an enemy, even one who was innocent of his father’s crimes.

Thor was silent for a few moments before he lifted his eyes to her again. She was not attractive by any stretch of the word but Thor found her fascinating, like an icicle but delicate and deadly.

“I have come to question what I have always been told about your people and my father’s hand in your subjugation. I know little of what I may do but... your son will help me find the truth.” She pressed hard to his skin again and Thor let out a yelp he did not know he was capable of making. It caused him to fall silent, eyes turned towards the door of his room to wait for the more bitter tongued yet far more gentle Loki to return.

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bed must happen, have a good night <3

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oh my god I just ate more food than exists in the world /flops over fatly

I was wondering where all the food in my fridge went.

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