fossilised | Jotunheimr

“We will use him, little gryfhawk, as bait and barter for that which is ours. Odin will come and your birthright will be returned to you. You will end them all with the Casket.” Helblindi was not as dumb as Loki gave him credit for. Killing Thor was one thing but Thor had brothers. Brothers that needed removal as well.

He was speaking to his brother in the wilderness away from their king because this was indeed treason. He could only hope that Loki would find the prospect more enticing than guarding a sullen prince who did not know how to even begin to rule.

“Think on this. You may well be the strongest fyri to be born to our world, my eldsibb. No other would be able to do what you will be able. We have waited since your birth for revenge. Finally we can have it.”

Oh, but it was tempting.

Helblindi might be the most warlike of his brothers, and the least intelligent to Loki's eyes, but there was still affection between them. Helblindi spoke directly to Loki's desire for power, and his certainty that the Casket was indeed his birthright. Even more so than the throne, though he wanted that too, the Casket was in his blood.

But no. No.

He wanted to be King one day, and he wanted to be King of a realm that had a place among the Nine and could rise to power, not be an outcast because of what they had tried to do.

"No, we can't." There was reluctance on his face rather than anger, a wistful desire to take up arms with Helblindi. "If we walked this path, every other realm would turn against us and we would be wiped out, even with the Casket. Asgard would call all others to arms and we would be nothing. We must achieve it through peace, it is the only way for Jotunheim to rise again. Walk away, Helblindi, I will not let you commit this treason and you are no match for me in a fight."

“There are many of us, eldsibb. There are many of us and one of you. I will not be named kynkiller, but if you attack me I will have no recourse but to—“

Helblindi was cut off by a figure only nominally taller than his elder brother. He had paused because the sight was so strange.

All knew Thor had been wounded on a hunt but a juvenile beast of little consequence. For him to be attempting to protect his brother? That was laughable. Loki was indefinitely stronger.

“What are you doing,” Helblindi asked anger in his voice though he now used All-Speak.

“I am once again following my heart. Whatever you discuss, do it without such threats towards my Guide. He is mine and I am his for the length of our journey together.”

Helblindi spoke of things much deeper than treason. To kill Kyn was the worst crime for pretty much any Jotnar, family was all to their people, though to fight one another was not unheard of as long as it didn't go too far. No matter Helblindi's words, Loki did not truly believe that his midsibb meant him any harm, there was love between them and this was not a crime worth committing for such a slim chance.

But the Jotnar that followed him...? They were different. They had the fervour of madness, of ones pressed too far beyond what they could take, and were now willing to throw everything away into one desperate push. They may well kill a Prince of this realm to get at a Prince of another, and that could not be allowed.

"Blindi," he murmured, still in the language of Ice, using the old nickname from when his brother had actually been smaller than him. He ignored the fool who stepped up beside him, other than to note he was in a better position now if Loki needed to grab him and flee should they actually attack. "For the love of me, our father, and our realm, do not do this. I will not tell Laufey-King of your words, because I know they are only born of a wish to see Jotunheim heal, if you step away now. Do not force my hand."

He would not stand and fight if they came for him, he knew the wisdom of retreat. If Helblindi didn't back off, then he would grab Thor and pull them both into the spaces in between, the pockets of Void that only he could usually travel.

“You are as cool as he,” Helblindi said in All-Speak, though it was hard to tell which of the pair he was directing that too. He placed his hand across his heart, however, and bowed low to his brother. The others followed suit before they left, long bodies casting long shadows.

The idiot Aesir stepped further between his Guide and the retreating figures, back to Loki, and shoulders tight.

“I believe I am ready to resume my lessons.” As hard as they were, he had little choice at this point. His jaw was set. The landscape between brothers had changed dramatically and Thor would not be the cause for it. “I must have you do your best to beat these lessons into me, Loki. I will not destroy your Realm more than it is.”

At least Helblindi left, though Loki knew that perhaps they would never be as close again. He could only hope that their relationship would not be permanently soured by this, and that his gambit would pay off in the end. If the Casket were returned by Loki's actions, much would be forgiven for that.

"There is your first lesson."

He turned to face away from Thor, not wanting to look at him, his voice hard and cold.

"A King sometimes must put the peace of his realm, the good of his people, above that which he desires most in his heart. To put your safety over that of my brother's reasonable wishes, that will pain me for a long time."

“You shall one day be king of this Realm,” Thor said without hesitation. “It is... it is greatly important to me that we forge a friendship now and maintain it. I believe I will be in need of your support when it comes time for me to ascend the throne of Asgard. I do not wish to reign as my father does now.”

Thor loved battle. He loved conquest. He loved to flex his muscle, but he also desired a righteous sort of peace and prosperity. It would mean more time for him to squash down those willing to harm that peace.

And he was, as most privileged young men, somewhat adverse to work.

“This is twice you have saved my life, Loki. And I will never forget this.”

"You will forget it as soon as you decide that you mislike my words again."

But at least the sincerity of the Odinson soothed away some of his anger. He had to stay the course now, or else Helblindi would find more disenfranchised Jotnar and war would be inevitable again. He wished to end this with a peace and prosperity for his realm, with affection between his Kyn, and with him being the one to achieve it.

"And there can be no peace while Asgard holds our land to ransom. By the time you become King, Jotunheim may well be dead, nothing but ash and twisted pain."

“I do not forget my friendships,” Thor bristled. He had collected many friends from many Realms. Hogun, for instance, of Vanaheim was one of his dearest friends. Why not include in that circle Loki of Jotunheim? “Nor will I ever forget you.” Loki might have turned from him but Thor stared in return, grim but firm.

He was not a liar. He likely was incapable of such things.

“And I shall never let your people suffer. There will be a kingdom for you. And for those that dwell here now. You must teach me how to judge my actions properly. Start with Utgard. What ought I have done?”

It was impossible not to hear the ring of truth in his words and, even though Thor might still be a naive fool to think it would be so easy, he clearly believed his own words. Was that not what Loki wanted, to have him eating out of the palm of his hand? Not the way he chose to do it, but plans always had to be fluid.

So, eventually, he turned back to Thor and gestured for him to sit.

"You ought to have taken a moment to think about the people who lived there, to remember who brought their suffering and to know you would not be welcome, any more than a bilgesnipe would be welcome at a village his ancestors had trampled years since. I took you there to observe what had been done, so that you could see that our words of needing the Casket are not hollow or grasping."

Thor was silent, allowing Loki to speak as long as was needed without interruption. He had settled beside the place that they were to make camp for the evening, though Loki would likely be willing to fly him the file ten miles or so. He thought it best that they stay away from the palace tower.

A long sigh escaped him as he sat, arms reclining on his knee before he nodded shallowly at Loki.

“I had not thought they would have distrusted me so.” He was used to be embraced.

"Because you did not stop to think. Why should they trust you? Your father laid waste to their lands, left their children a legacy of death. They have never met you personally, they do not know that you have both the malice and the brains of a lap dog."

Such lessons could not be learned overnight, and they might never be learned since Thor had lived so long in arrogant ignorance, and he would return to that once he had left Loki's sight.

"You must stop looking to others so blindly and begin to think for yourself. A King has advisors, but in the end it must be his own decision on any matter, be it trade or war."

“I have agreed to your lessons but not to your insults,” Thor snapped. “Surely this isn’t the only way you know to be?” What he once found charming, he now did not. The context had changed and in a way, Thor himself had as well.

He still took what Loki said to heart, just the same. If he was to truly find himself worthy of helping these people, he needed to understand a foreign mindset. Thor was simply at odds with himself and with all he had been taught before. The lessons of Asgard translated poorly to those on Jotunheim.

They ate as Loki continued to point out his faults and Thor found it much easier to get threw them while gnawing on bone.

These were all very hard lessons, and he was as mentally exhausted as he had been physically so as they settled into their bedrolls. A storm from the north would set upon them not long after and Thor woke to blankets of fresh snow burying camp.

There was a boyish joy, so different from the night before, in digging himself out of it. And perhaps a snow ball or two lobbed Loki’s way when the Jotun burst through to the surface as well.

Loki's lessons came with insults, as did his friendship and even his affection. It was just part of who he was and he respected someone more if they could tease him back, for flyting was one of his favourite pasttimes, though few would challenge him to it since he took his majority.

He popped up out of the snow and immediately got another face full of the stuff, spluttering before allowing ice to form along his forearms with a wicked sort of grin.

"Ah, Odinson, that was not a wise move. Do you truly wish to challenge a Jotnar Fyri in the realm of ice and snow battles? He gestured and a snowball the size of Thor's head rose out of the ground behind him and slammed towards the back of his head."

As he laughed and formed another ball of snow, Thor found himself buried under a mound himself and struggled out through the top. His hair was damp, ice clinging to the fine spun gold that looked as though it had an aversion to combs. He threw his second ball just after and it pelted Loki in the chest.

It had been a long while since he had a snowball fight and while Loki immediately won, Thor proved himself tenacious and got a few licks in before Loki had him utterly exhausted and laying on his back in the remains of last night’s camp.

The Thunderer panted and while Loki probably was not raised with the idea that a person that looked like Thor could be attractive, he certainly looked it now with red cheeks and reclining in ruggedly disheveled repose.

Loki could find all manner of creature attractive, and he certainly had no aversion to Thor's form, but he wanted the Thunderer to be desperate with want for him. He wanted Thor on his knees in supplication, begging to be allowed to take Loki to his furs, and that would not be done by jumping him here in the snow.

He simply offered a bright smile in return, though before he could speak that smile turned to a gasp of pain, as he was struck in the side of the head with a projectile weapon. Not dead, but dazed, he lay on his side in the snow as what looked like four Aesir appeared over the snow ridge.

Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, and Sif whooped in victory as they found their lost prince and friend, hurrying towards him. Hogun, sensible as always, remained back to check if the oddly small Giant was dead or not, tip of his long knife at a blue throat.

"Thor! We have looked for you for days, finally we have found you!"

It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye, flashed through Thor’s head, something his father told him once, tongue and cheek, tapping on the gold plate over his missing eye. He blinked like the world was moving in perpetual slow motion, a trick surely of the sorcerer himself, but Loki was not getting up and the illusions of his friends were leaving foot prints in the slow.

Thor fought his way up to his feet, anger causing the perpetually dark sky to darken further and crack with purple static. He didn’t notice, rushing to stave Hogun off by idiotically grabbing the blade with his hand.

Two weeks before and this wouldn’t have mattered. Thor was far more easily damaged now and the steel sliced straight through his palm with a gleeful abandon. Snow, bright red and blossoming, dotted the snow as he put himself between Loki and his startled friends.

“I have been banished here Where else would I be? How did Heimdall allow you through?”

Sif looked more appalled than the rest. “Thor, what are you doing—. You’re bleeding—“

“Go home. All of you. Immediately,” he roared. “You are going to start another war before I have a chance to keep my promises here.”

Hogun twisted his blade free as soon as Thor grabbed it, keeping the sharp edge away from his already injured friend. He did not threaten the Jotnar again, though he kept his eyes narrowed suspiciously as the blue-skinned devil got to his feet and stood behind Thor's shoulder with crimson eyes glittering.

"What is this treason, Odinson?" Loki hissed, making sure that his words could be heard by the other Aesir who had come. "You alone have been granted guestrites, their presence could spark the war that Helblindi wants."

Sif scowled at the Jotun, but Fandral stepped forward with a confused and slightly puppyish look on his face.

"My friend, we had to come for you. The All-Father has been too harsh and it was a grand adventure to find one of the secret ways here, of the sort we always have. We will bring you home where you belong, not out here among the monsters."

Perhaps Thor would hear the echo of who he had been only weeks hence in Fandral's words. A band of privileged Aesir, led by the prince, who thought nothing of consequences as long as they got their adventure and larks.

Thor’s hand was thrust out, blood leaving a mark every time he moved it. He turned his head only slightly, not glancing at Loki, but his posture certainly would relay aggression. Had he not just said he feared that very thing? Loki seemed as if to say that this was his fault. It was not. He’d never expected anyone to come for him, least of those four members of his friend group who ought to have known that coming here the last time had landed them all in trouble with the All-Father.

“Where do you wish to rescue me to, Fandral? Heimdall sees all. The All-Father would know immediately if I broke his exile. I am less prisoner in this Realm then they are to my father. They are less monstrous than Odin had been when he came to wipe them out and ensure the slow demise of their people. I am here for a reason, Fandral. Take the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif and leave before you are captured and killed for attacking and harming their fyri and prince.”

Fandral, however, pressed. “Fyri? You have been charmed, Thor. You have been seduced by magic. How can you say these things against your Realm? Against your own Father?”

Thor balled his hands into fists and blood ran up the grooves between his fingers. “I have come to learn many things while here and that includes knowing that my father sent me here to learn truths about a people he wronged so I will not make his same mistakes. But I will do more than that. I am going to save these people you call monsters. And I am going to save you too. Heimdall!”

"Listen to yourself, Thor."

That was Sif, she stepped forward as Thor ranted and placed her hand on his arm, half beseeching and half commanding. "There are not magic users among the Frost Giants, and you cannot possibly think that your father has wronged them. They are Frost Giants, and they have done something to--"

She was cut off by the scream of the Bifrost as it opened, Heimdall hearing the call of his prince and turning his gaze down to see the errant wanderers. He could not direct the flow so specifically to grab just them, so both Thor and Loki would find themselves gathered up in the flow as well.

When the world coalesced again, Loki immediately went into a battle crouch with ice forming along his forearms. He looked out of place among the gold and warmth of Asgard, even just in the Observatory, like a caged exotic bird. Heimdall's golden eyes turned to Thor, his words soft.

"I am sorry, my prince, but I think it best that you give witness to your father on these events. Should your banishment recommence after that time, I will return you to Jotunheim."

"And I?" Loki spat, though it barely hid the fear beneath for having found himself suddenly in a nest of vipers. "Am I to be returned to my home? You have no right to bring me here, Watcher."

Thor was one hundred percent sure that he was going to have to fight everyone at once. Heimdall turned golden eyes upon him, however, and Thor nodded in his direction. Now was not the time to fight, and for that, Thor was grateful. He was starting to feel as weak as he was and that sensation only caused him more pain in the end. He was given a strip of cloth from Heimdall’s own under tunic and he wrapped it thrice around his hand to stave off some of the bleeding.

“I would prefer you to stay on Asgard for the All-Father to question, Prince Loki,” Heimdall addressed the other with reverance all royalty ought to be given. “But perhaps your form would better match those of this Realm lest more trouble fall.”

“You have my promise of guestrights,” Thor chimed in. “I will see you offered all the same protections and favours as I have been offered as well in your home.” That might not make Loki feel much better. Thor was barely tolerated.

"I am not ashamed of what I am, and I will not dishonour my Kyn by wearing the skin of the Aesir. Though we may hope for peace one day, I do not think my dam would recover well from knowing I had hidden my heritage to blend in with the All-Father's get."

Loki did, however, finish his words by turning into the giant gryfhawk that he could become and perched himself on Thor's shoulder, though with the size of him, almost as big as the prince himself, it looked ludicrous and a little like the great bird would carry off the prince as prey.

Volstagg gaped aloud at the sight of such a transformation, while Sif and Fandral already had their weapons half up again already before Heimdall admonished them.

"Do not make your crimes worse. Go now to your chambers and await audience."

Immediately weighed down by the giant bird, Thor had to brace himself on the wall. “Can you not become more manageable?” Surely Loki could shrink! He couldn’t possibly carry a giant gryfhawk through the streets of Asgard, paraded in front of the people like that. They had to know he was exiled. They would find the raptor clinging to his shoulder almost impossibly interesting. Considering how it was about to snap his head off of his neck!

Heimdall had Hogun rush to bring the horses to spare Thor the journey back on foot in the meantime, though the Vanir did not appear to want to leave the strange spectical.

A shapeshifter on Jotunheim? It seems inpossible that monsters could be so tapped into Yggdrassil.

The gryfhawk somehow managed to make a sound that was almost a huff of frustration, before he shrunk again into a creature that Thor likely would not recognise as it was native to the shorebound regions of Jotunheim. It was about a foot long and covered in pure white soft fur, with ten stubby little legs and sharp teeth, sinuous and long like a snake crossed with a ferret.

He swarmed down Thor's arm to wrap around his waist like a live belt, much to the chagrin of Sif who found that her fingers itched for the knives at her belt, only Heimdall's presence keeping her in check.

"Thor-- Thor, you must get that thing off you, it has your mind bewitched. See how it coils around you like chains."

“Like a snake,” Thor said…in a way that was not going to make Sif feel any better. Not with the way he was so obviously carrying on by lightly petting a creature he knew to be a person…but he couldn’t help himself. He really just loved snakes. Who could resist giving them a hug? Even if they were covered in fluffy fur? “Sif, cease this. You know nothing. No one on Asgard does. I do not blame you for this, I was as blind as you until I saw the damage done and understood the ways the All-Father had used to gain control of all the Realms.”

Saying such things made Thor turn abruptly to Heimdall. Here was a person, finally, who could give him the answers he so needed.

“You… You knew my sister.”

Well that caused Sif to quiet down, her eyes shifting to look at Heimdall as well, both brows arched exquisitely over her brow. The Guardian of the Bifrost showed little emotion. “I did. And I assisted in sending her to Hel.”

“Hela is not your sister, Thor,” Fandral said before backing that down a little. “Is she?”

“Her taste in bloodshed and power took over your father’s mind,” Heimdall said stone-faced. “It briefly maddened him and he agreed to many things on her behalf. Including the damnation of Jotunheim.”

“Why did he not just return the Casket when he banished her?” Thor demanded.

“For fear that the Jotnar would rise up and he would have to smite them all. But ask this of the All-Father. His reasoning may well be his own.”

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