fossilised | Jotunheimr

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!”

"How cruel, but a jaunt to Muspelheim is just what I wanted."

Even the Jotnar knew to steer clear of the realm where the Fire Giants lived. The stories about that race were well deserved, they were truly cruel and warmongering, too chaotic to ever fit into a peaceful and stable realm system. But they had their place, and as long as they remained mostly within their borders then Asgard ignored them.

"I imagine that at least Vanaheim and Alfheim will not be so full of hate as Midgard, if they have believed for a thousand years that we attempted to rule over them, they must truly despise us."

He had no idea that most people on Midgard had forgotten that Frost Giants even existed, and those that knew thought them only as myth or old religion that few still followed. He walked beside Thor as he mused, however, pleased enough to go and fetch their purchases and buy food for a feast.

“I was to Midgard last as a child with my friends. I remember it as being much like Asgard at the time, though the people’s there are short lived. We stayed for several seasons and watched those we liked grow old before our eyes. It is a strange affliction.” He didn’t know how quickly they had modernized. He didn’t know that they didn’t believe Asgard existed. And that none had no idea that there were other races in the universe. “Perhaps we can make a small trip. But we will need to disguise ourselves as Midgardians.”

The thought amused him.

“I shall wear my fine frock and veil.” He was only joking of course. He had no idea if those would go with midgardian fashion.

"I have never seen a Midgardian; tell me, Thor, what do they look like? There are precious few texts on Jotunheim dealing with Midgard, and none with illustrations."

There were, of course, warriors that had been around in the war that could have described a Midgardian to him, even including his own dam and sire, but none wanted to talk about such a painful part of their history and he had known better to ask.

"Though if you attempt to make me believe that they are something foolish to jest with me, I shall see through it."

“A jest! Are we not friends, Loki? I would not jest about something so important,” Thor promised and put an arm around the Jotun’s shoulders. “Midgardians are small, much smaller than you or I. They come on all variety of neutral shades. Some have my skin tone, others are as dark as Heimdall. Their hair is golden or black and their eyes are blue. They live in hovels and tend to herds and hunt and fish. Their planet is one of ice and of green, rolling hills like those of Asgard. I know you dislike the idea of hiding your skin and your kynlines but Midgard is a backwards place. They are not intelligent and while their Realm is beautiful, they are much like insects upon it. You shall see. I shall show you soon.”

Thor did not mind that he walked as one did with friends. He would not remove his arm from Loki, nor did he much care who might have stated as he paid for the scrolls and tomes Loki wished. And retrieved their bundled dresses. And bought packages of meats and fish.

Thor introduces Loki to the old woman who had helped and she might have given Loki the best gift of all, a knowing smile and a hope to see his people one more in the market.

It was a great gift and he made her a delicate statue of a flower that grew only on Jotunheim with his seidr as a reminder of what she had done, and the friendship she had garnered in return.

Once they had their dresses, meat, and books, Heimdall transported them both back to Jotunheim and cut off much of the journey that had been their before, depositing them within sight of the palace.

"Tell me, Thor, do you think my home is beautiful?"

It was a question asked distantly. Loki thought his home was beautiful, with blue ice and crisp snow, but Thor had grown up in a world with all of those colours, where greens and reds and oranges were just as visible as blue and white. Perhaps he really did see Jotunheim as the wasteland that many said it was.

“Of course Jotunheim is beautiful. There are creatures here you cannot see anywhere else. Your people are incredibly large and interesting to speak with. I wish your cities were not as horribly war torn, but there is a beauty in the memory of battle too. Utgard... it bothers me how black it is when so much else is blue and silver. I prefer this Realm to many others. The home of the dwarves is dark and hot. The Realm of the fire giants is tedious to navigate.” Thor held most of the packages tightly in his arms as he lifted his knees up to ward off the snow.

He did glance his way however.

“Did you hope I would say no so you could tell me all of the faults of Asgard?” He was asking genuinely, amused.

"No."

This was one of Loki's opportunities to tether Thor to himself, to lay the groundwork for making the Aesir love him, want him, need him, and he wouldn't pass up on it. He glanced over his shoulder at Thor, carefully calculating the small wistful and fond smile at his lips, as though he were unaware of it.

"I hoped you would say yes, but I feared you would say no. You have lived so long in a world of colour, that so much white must be dull. Yet I am glad you think it beautiful, it means you may yet return when your banishment is over. I find that I would miss you if you did not."

“We will visit each other. And other Realms. Not many have a ruling family and I would very much think that we should support one another,” Thor said with a firm surety. His smile was much less subtle, entirely sincere. “Are we not friends?”

Thor wanted Loki to be his friend. Badly. He didn’t know why but he felt protective of him, fond of him and his cunning, often dourly sarcastic ways. It pleased him to see Loki smile and it angered him to know when he was mistreated. He felt the same towards all of his friends.

“It will be many years yet before we each may rule and before we are tethered to the throne, there are adventures to be had.”

"And perhaps I never will be tethered to my throne."

Of course he would be, and if he had his way then he would be tethered to Asgard's throne as well. Loki-King of Jotunheim and Loki-Consort, All Mother of Asgard. He was determined to have both of these things; not because he loved Thor, he didn't though he could likely grow to be fond of him, but because it would give him the power to finally change things as he saw fit.

"I apologise if such words seem sudden or maudlin, it is only that as your Guide I feel you are almost ready to take Mjolnir once more."

Almost.

He could be almost ready for as long as Loki needed him to be.

“I was in a great rush before but now... I think I can still do some good before I return,” Thor said without reading into Loki’s words. It was foolish of him to be so readily trusting but he had known Loki only a smattering of weeks. And that was not enough time at all to learn the depths of his character.

Thor shifted his burden as they came to the massive doors in the front of the building and turned to face his Guide.

“Tomorrow I would like to discuss potential relief efforts for your people. I would ideally like to return the Casket but it is not mine to give or return. There must be other ways to help.”

More and more, Frigga’s gift to Loki revealed itself.

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