fossilised | Jotunheimr

Thor balked slightly, eyes shifting towards Loki. “I can not ask Heimdall to return me to collect hearth gifts,” he said, “and I have little way to find them here. I do not know your currency and I doubt any artisans will allow me to purchase their wares.”

His shoulders almost dropped before he remembered what Loki said about visiting other Realms. He did not need to learn the culture of Vanaheim for his mother was Vanir, but he did have clout and credit with the Free Market for many times defending them or bringing great beasts to them for processing.

Blue eyes sparkled. “Tell me you know a way to Vanaheim?”

Loki had actually intended to take Thor to places on Jotunheim where he could find things that his dam and sire were fond of - a good fishing ground for a rare type of fish - but this was much better. He had heard and read of the Free Market of Vanaheim many times over, but of course he had never visited it.

"All of the Ways out of Jotunheim are blocked, they were blocked when the war ended to stop us from ever 'invading' another realm. But I am sure Heimdall would send us there if asked."

After all, they were not disobeying Odin's orders by going to any realm other than Asgard, right?

“It would not hurt to try,” Thor said, arms crossed in thought. His lips were pursed as he gazed upward, knowing the Guardian was there looking down at him. “Heimdall, we need a trip to the Free Markets. I have things to purchase not available on Jotunheim.”

There was a moment of silence before the Bifrost opened and sent the two tumbling through the Void to just where they had requested.

Vanaheim was well into winter and the residents bundled up against the cold. Thor was comfortable and thankfully, Loki should not suffer too much from the heat.

This time, at least, Loki was prepared for the rush of the Bifrost and the ache that it left in his soul, like a strange resonance that wanted to pull him off into different directions. It was similar to the whisper of the Casket, like Yggdrasil could sense his potential and wanted to invite him to walk Ways that had been blocked to his people for millennia.

Vanaheim was amazing.

The temperature was still too warm, but no worse than the hottest summer day on Jotunheim, and so he could bear it. But the sheer volume of people, the bustle of colour and life, it was overwhelming. Not to mention that more than one person gasped aloud at the sight of a Jotnar, where none had been permitted to exit their realm for so long.

"The pictures do not do it justice, Thor."

Thor, for the first time, not just Odinson.

At least this Jotun was not so big as to actually be a true giant, and that was probably all that kept them from running off or taking their children away with them. That, and Thor’s presence.

“It is a sight I am always pleased to see. We have nothing like this, not even during festivals in Asgard. The Free Market runs daily,” he said as though he was explaining anything at all to Loki. “If there is anything worthwhile to find for your parents, it will be here. Let me first trade in my credit.”

There was a man under a purple awning counting away coins of various amounts and stacking tokens towards the centre of the market. He looked up at the approaching two and blinked. “My prince—“

“Darik, well met!” Thor proclaimed. “My companion and I have come to seek a small amount of recompense for what has been done at the market by my hand.” Thor had never called in his credit before and the man looked a little shocked.

“Are you... in danger...?” His eyes turned towards Loki and Thor broke into laughter.

“Indeed not. If anything, I am safer with him. We will take perhaps one hundred tokens of what is owed.”

The exchanger nodded slowly and made a mark in a book before he handed over the tokens. Thor pocketed half and gave the rest to Loki. “Shall we begin?”

Loki was, at least, used to people staring. He was one of the only Fyri left, a runt in a world of giants, and so those who had not grown up with him were apt to stare. But this was a different kind of stare; the ones he was used to were usually awed, excited, or plain disbelieving. But these stares were wary and fearful, some hostile, a reminder of the stories that had been told of his people for too long now.

"One day this will not be," he murmured to Thor as he took the coins offered to him and slipped them into a pocket of his kilt. "One day there will be stalls held by Jotnar craftsmen and traders, and none will shrink from the Giants."

Loki was determined to act as though he didn't care, strolling the market as if he had every right to be out of his frozen realm.

"My dam is fond of rare texts, histories of other realms. My sire likes baubles and ornamentation, perhaps something like that." He pointed at a stall selling dresses. Gendered clothing didn't exist for Loki, and so he did not see anything odd in suggesting that his sire might enjoy a delicate silk gown.

Thor had thought of Farbauti as feminine as well, and do a frock didn’t bother him at all. “Will that be a proper size? Do you know your sire’s measurements?” Thor asked, stopping at the booth. The women circled him, giggling. It wasn’t every day Thor cake to visit after all.

“A dress for the All-Mother?”

Thor shook his head. “A queen, just the same. I was thinking that forest green. Loki? Tell these women the proper size and we can return at the end to fetch it.”

"Farbauti-Consort is not a queen, Odinson, have you listened to none of my lessons?" The chiding was not done with real ire, however, Loki was far too excited at being on Vanaheim to truly take offence at these small mistakes. "He stands at just shy of nine spans tall, with a waist roughly the circumference of Odinson's shoulders."

"Uh-- he?"

The main stallholder, an older woman, looked baffled while the women circling the Prince continued their giggling, sure that a jest was being played.

"A forest green would be a wonderful colour choice. But see here, Thor, there is one in red and gold, this would look well on you. Why do you not have one made up?"

Thor had learned plenty but his goal was to try and keep Loki’s truth to a minimum. That he was a prince and a princess was hardly the problem, but more that he was a Jotun outside of Jotunheim. Thor wasn’t intending to make waves this day but Loki could not help himself it seemed.

“Their people have no gender,” Thor clarified, to which one of the younger women snorted, proud and wild.

“Then why doesn’t everyone use ‘she?’ It’s the far better gender.”

Thor made a gesture and then laughed truthfully, reaching for the dress Loki pointed out. “I enjoy the colours and the feel of the fabric. But what would I use to cover my beard?”

"Why would you have need to cover your beard? Surely you are not so insecure that you cannot wear a garment intended for a woman?"

He actually quite liked the younger woman who had made the jest about which word to use to describe themselves, it was better than disgust or jeering. Confusion he could deal with, it meant that people could be educated.

"In fact, you may buy me one."

He would rather enjoy the people here seeing Asgard's prince doing his bidding, it would be a small but important step forward.

"And perhaps I shall grow a magnificent beard to sport with it."

Thor could not help the way that Loki made him feel at times. He strummed at him emotionally, he pushed and he prodded parts of him into places that Thor did not know he even had. He felt his heart swell with mirth. He was not ashamed in the least of being mocked this way for Thor was uniquely comfortable in his skin.

“Would you also wear my chosen colours?” Thor asked, arching his eyebrow. “The red would look particularly striking against your skin.”

The youngest woman also agreed, though she had something more to say about the beard situation. “A very long and maintained or braided beard would suit our frocks well, but the Prince has a rough and unruly beard that really ought to be covered. Should I add a veil to your tally?”

What a shrewd business woman!

And Thor, dumb and jovial, agreed to it all! “Three frocks, my dimensions, Loki’s dimension, and the dimensions he mentioned previously. I’ll have the majority of mine be in crimson with gold edging but craft Loki’s in mostly cloth of gold with scarlet edging. I believe Farbauti-consort’s green gown should be left delicate. Silver cording?”

“And the veil for you?”

“Your choice. Whatever will best cover my scruff!”

Loki inclined his head at the woman who had shown such business sense and left her cutting cloth and counting the coin generously given for all the frocks ordered. She had never been given an order for a man's dimensions before, the chest and hips of the pattern would need vastly altering to fit, but she cared little about propriety as long as she earned her money.

Word travelled fast along the market that Prince Thor had come, with coin, and in an unusually generous spending mood. Also that he was accompanied by a Jotnar runt, who also seemed to have some sway over the spending of the coin, so both of them were hailed with great enthusiasm wherever they went.

It put Loki in a rare good humour and he found himself at his best, witty and charming as he flitted from one stall to another, utterly enamoured with the sheer life and extravagance of this place. All went well until the sun had passed its zenith in the sky and then, between one moment of looking away and back again, Loki would be nowhere to be seen.

All went very well indeed and Thor was having a fantastic time, even with his continued exile and the lack of understanding in his friends. And the loss of his strength. And Mjolnir— He has little to be happy about and yet here he was, eating sausages and buying Loki (and Loki’s parents and siblings) all sorts of things to return when one bite of his meal caused him to lose focus of where his guide was.

Thor was not pleased. Loki would not leave him and had been very sure to point at stalls he wished to go while keeping Thor in sight. And Thor knew that was more for safety and to keep the all knowing eye if the All-Father from deciding on treason for his presence than out of deference for the prince of the golden realm.

This anger was more for nefarious reasons his companion might have left his side.

Thor snarled and lifted his voice. “Who last saw the Jotun prince?!” He roared, immediately quieting the festivities.

Most of the stallholders and other customers remained silent, staring at Thor as if expecting thunder to suddenly form overhead. One or two murmured nervously that they thought they had seen him over by a stall that sold magic texts, one of the stalls within sight that Loki had mentioned to Thor an interest in.

But some were bolder.

Voices came from a variety of directions, though none were brave enough to actually come out and face Asgard's heir personally while they said these things.

"There are no princes in a land of monsters!"

"Treason to bring one to the Markets."

"Shame on Asgard."

This was the land of his people. This was his mother’s home. These were good people. Kind people. He’d never been ill treated here. He’d never heard of uprisings here. And Thor did try to steel himself against their calls but he could not.

“Do you reproach the All-Father for bringing Jotunheim back into the fold of Asgard’s care?” he bellowed. “Do you openly seek the ire of the All-Mother, whom herself has given blessings and care to the one you call a monster?”

Thor saw the two talking. He’d seen Frigga take Loki by the hand.

“Return my companion to me and all shall be forgiven. If I must seek him out myself, there will be a reckoning.” He was still strong. And he hopefully still had the backing of his father on this. Otherwise it was all just a bluff.

Luckily, it had started to storm. The lightning overhead lit Thor’s eyes with sparks.

The storm hushed most of the voices that had called out in dissent, for all knew of the All-Father's bloodline and the power it held, none wanted to call down Thor's famously hot temper on them or their stalls. But similarly, few wanted to stand up and be publicly seen to be helping the Jotnar, for they would have to live with the others here after Thor had gone.

Eventually one young man stepped forwards, a native of Alfheim with the characteristic body shape of the dwarves, though he had not yet grown old enough for a beard yet. He wore the unadorned tunic of an apprentice, not yet even a crafter himself.

"Forgive me, Prince, but we cannot help but be confused. We have been told that the Jotnar are not to be trusted, now we are to accept them into the fold with no question or reservation?"

Thor turned his eyes down at the child, though he had no soft feelings for children in particular. His annoyance and his anger did not soften in the slightest. “Jotunheim has paid a dear price. I have spent time there, I have seen the destruction they have endured. They are not monsters. They are people like us. There are children like you with little to eat and still a kindness to assist a travel to their land. They live in fear and in death. Whatever their parents might have done, or whatever they might have been blamed for, it is not a sin their children should suffer for.”

He could not speak out against the wrongs of his father. Not here. Odin would need to do this himself. He would need to explain it all. Anything Thor said would not help gain Loki back.

“Do you all trust me so little that you would think of old wives’ tales and of deeds conducted before many of you were born before you took my word? Have I not always protected your herds? Your markets? Has the All-Mother not given you special dispensations? Loki and his people are less monsters than those that took my companion from me. Loki is innocent. He was born as Jotunheim was torn asunder. If any harm him, justice will be conducted slowly in the dungeons of Asgard for the rest of your lives.”

Most of those assembled still looked unsure. Though Thor had, indeed, often protected the Markets, he had also caused trouble with drunken carousing on occasion. He had behaved as many noble sons did, and while he was not distrusted, some wondered if he might have been enchanted somehow.

All was silent again, the youth quaking and regretting having stepped forwards at all, before finally an old woman stepped forward. She looked to be a native of Vanaheim, and the wrinkles on her face suggested that she may have been young when even Frigga All-Mother had taken her first breath.

"These young ones may not believe you, but I recall when the Jotnar had stalls in these Markets. There were Giants I counted among my friends, and if you think to bring them back to our fold, I hope there will be ones I may count among my friends again. I will help you, my Lord. I saw the young Fyri being taken in the direction of the pens."

She pointed downwind, where the trade in animals was kept apart from the rest of the stalls in order to keep their smell contained.

Thor touched the old woman’s cheek with one massive hand. “Grandmother,” he said with a kind respect, “you alone have been shown brave and worthy. I will tell my mother of this when next I see her. You and your family with never want again.” He could not stay to speak with her and shower her with praises, however. If Loki had been taken to the pens, they was an attempt to sell or skin him perhaps in progress. That Loki had been taken at all when he proved himself strong and capable worried Thor more than the rest.

He did not believe that he could readily save Loki the way he normally would have, with the spin of a hammer and joyful strength. He had been relying on it too much, however, and he knew immediately that he could infiltrate the stable Loki was being held in simply by slipping through a window that had been left unhatched.

The idiots were arguing inside. Fearful. Angry. One wanted to kill the Jotun. One wanted to use him as random. The amulet around Loki’s wrist was the only thing keeping the fyri under.

And all Thor had to do was snatch it away. In theory.

Loki was utterly furious.

He had been too enamoured with the books to pay much attention to the people milling around him, secure that most had to keep a safe distance in order to not be burned by his mere touch, and so he had not noticed the gloved hand until it was too late and the amulet had been bound around his wrist. He was not unconscious, but it kept him paralysed and unable to utilise his connection to seidr.

To be at someone else's mercy was not a situation he cared for, and he had spent the last hour devising more and more painful ways for them to die when he got this band off him. There were only the two of them, that they didn't have have a plan beyond taking him was deplorable.

Humiliating.

Though Thor could not know that Loki might seek blood for his lack of comfort and his current humiliation, he was still intent on freeing him as quickly as possible. He could easily overtake two Vanir but he would rather bring them to justice instead. And that would take Heimdall... after Thor got Loki out.

Thankfully, all he had to do was throw the Jotun over his shoulder. The two Vanir was arguing too much to notice even a lout like Thor crawling around.

They were right outside the window when anyone even noticed that their blue skinned prince was missing. Thor actually chuckled as he turned at the sound of the voices making panicked sounds. “Heimdall! Two for the dungeons!”

Loki would be denied his revenge for now. Probably for the best.

This might show that Thor had truly matured somewhat since only a short time ago. He had thought around mere brawn as a solution, using his wits instead to avoid combat, and he had allowed the two to go to proper justice rather than serving up his own anger as justice.

Perhaps growing worthy of Mjolnir once more.

Loki groused quietly when he heard the Bifrost open and felt his revenge being denied to him, but he settled for snarling out through gritted teeth.

"Remove this cursed amulet, unless you enjoy carrying me like your latest kill."

“My latest kill would not talk so much,” Thor said, though he did carefully put Loki down and, crouching in front of him, pulled the amulet from his wrist. “Did they injure you?” He was pretty sure that Loki was all right but he had suffered a blow to the head and overheating in the same day as his kidnapping and Thor was fairly certain that this just added insult to injury.

He was genuinely concerned. Darkness had overtaken the Free Markets but the torches were lit and the place smelled of roasting meats and mead. None were ready to pack it in for the day just yet.

He offered Loki his hand.

“I am sorry for the actions of these men. They will be punished severely. I hope this doesn’t cloud your impression of Vanaheim.”

Loki was hardy enough that those trifling matters no longer troubled him, the blow to the head had healed within the hour and the temperature of Vanaheim was much more tolerable than Asgard had been for him.

"I would be a fool if I did not believe that a millennia of stories designed to breed hatred to us, would not lead to actions such as this. There will be a long road to travel, I fear, when Jotunheim is free to travel once more."

He took the hand offered to him, still irritated, but thankfully not raging.

"Tell me, are there any realms that have been spared such tales of vitriol?"

“Not likely.” Thor was at least honest there. “But there are Realms more despised than Jotunheim. I just would not suggest we travel there. Much too warm for you.”

He dusted Loki off and released his hand.

“Perhaps we should see to those texts you were eyeing and pick up our frocks before we two head back to Jotunheim. I could use a good sleep. I’d like to use the remains of the money to return with a great feast. Those sausages are delicious!”

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject