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Chapter Text

The skies in Jotunheim were endless.
That was Loki’s first thought as he rode through the twisting spires of ice and snow. Each time the Asgardian company summited a peak, he gazed out in awe at the spreading canvas of blue. So pure, so perfect. Loki imagined reaching out and touching the cloudless expanse, wondering if his fingertip would send ripples through the sky. What beauty there was to be found in the home of the giants. His father did not share in his admiration. Instead, Odin loudly voiced his complaints about the bitter climate, the precarious heights, and even the slowness of his steed. After much persuasion from Loki, Odin had finally agreed to leave Sleipnir in Asgard. His son had pointed out that bringing the famed war horse to peace talks might not send the right message. Begrudgingly, Odin had accepted this. Still, he remained aloof in the great heights of the mountains as he, Loki and the royal guard descended towards the Jotunn capital.

There was no parade like the ones Loki had come to expect when riding through the streets of Asgard. The was no cheering, no music, no flowers being thrown for their horses to tread on. A handful of Jotunns edged the streets, gazing wearily at the foreigners who had brought them so much suffering in the past. The war had been an ancient one. It had spanned beyond the lifetimes of many of the near immortals that dwelled in the opposing realms. Loki tried his best to avoid the hollow eyes of the children, peering out from behind their mother’s skirts. They were hungry, and it was war that kept bread from their mouths. The raging battles had barely touched the golden city of Asgard, but here its presence was truly felt. Loki uneasily took note of the ruined buildings they passed. Although the realm was new to him, the prince of Asgard could tell which gaping walls had once been homes, temples or schools. Odin continued to mutter under his breath, unaffected by the sight of desolation.

They urged the horses briskly through the crumbling city and towards the palace in its broken heart. Their arrival was similarly unceremonious. One of the nobles of King Laufey’s court had informed them his king was indisposed and led them towards their quarters. The castle was carved from ice. That fact it had not collapsed under the heat of Asgard’s unending volleys of heat was a testament to the power still to be found in Jotunheim. Long corridors with high celling burrowed their way through the frozen ice walls which were glowing faintly with sunlight as a translucent blue light filled them. They reached the towering ice doors of their quarters, carved with the legends of Ymir. These adjacent rooms were modest by the standards of Asgard. An observation Odin made numerously and loudly. Yet, after a long journey, Loki’s only quibble with the room was that it was so close to his father’s. Grateful for its much need privacy, Loki settled and began preparations for the long talks ahead.

In the morning, Loki and his father breakfasted in near silence. They ate in Odin’s room, shielded by Loki’s own magic to ensure no one would hear what they weren’t currently talking about. Silence had become the norm between father and son, and little could be done to change this. Loki had begun to inform Odin of some of the issues agreed to be discussed that day. His father soon cut him off.

“Loki, if I had wanted advise from know-it-all little weasels, I would have brought along one of my many of advisors.” Growled Odin. “Norns know I have enough of them! I am not in the market for another.”
“Father, I…”
“Learn your place, Loki!” The old king snarled. “I may be your father, but I am your king first.”
“Yes f… my king.” Loki answered, trying with little success to contain the bitterness in his voice.
“Remind yourself of your place now.” Odin ordered sharply. “What is your role today?”
“I am to be your interpreter-”
“No, Loki.” Odin glared with his one cold eye. “You are to be my translator. You are to repeat to that brute Laufey what I say word for word. You interpret nothing. Understood?”
“Yes, my king.”
“Say it.” Barked Odin. “So you don’t forget.”
Mustering all the self-control he possessed, Loki calmly stated.

“I am to be your translator.”
……………………………………………………………………………………

“For once your petty hobby has a purpose.”

Thor strode a pace behind his king. They twisted and turned their way down the labyrinth of frigid corridors that led to the room elected to hold the peace talks.

“An… adequate warrior like yourself need not trouble himself with any form of studying, especially the language of a weak race like that of the Aseir. A warrior needs only violence and rage to communicate with the enemy.”

Laufey took brisk long strides, causing his young general to fall behind in a display done to highlight Thor’s inferior height and thus his need to quicken his steps to keep pace. As the smallest amongst his people, Thor was keenly aware of these regular humiliations like this to ensure his constant feeling of inferiority. They rarely worked. Thor hadn’t let his short stature demean his existence. Instead he rose through the ranks of the Jotunn army, never once being defeated in combat. Thor knew himself to be a superior warrior. A fact that put him well above the heads of his countrymen. When they reached the doors to the newly designated ‘Peace Room’, it was Laufey, not Thor, who was out of breath.

“Let us see if all those wasted hours were worth the effort.” Laufey pushed open the door, and the two frost giants stepped in.
……………………………………………………………………………………

Loki did not have to see his father to sense the sneer his face when Laufey entered the room. The Asgardian prince also focused his attention on the pair of giants, particularly on the shorter figure. He recognised the general immediately. Even in Asgard, Laufey’s runt general was regarded with a begrudging respect. Thor, Loki remembered he was called. At first Loki was confused by Thor’s presence. Surely Laufey would not bring his famed general to peace talks, just has Odin had not brought his war horse? Yet, what other purpose could he serve? A bemused smile spread across Loki’s face as he realised this must be Laufey’s own translator. The feared warrior must not have been as idiotic as he appeared.

“Good morning, Odin Child-Killer.” King Laufey said scornfully, informing Loki that these peace talkers would be as hostile as the war they were trying to resolve.

“King Kaufey offers his greetings.” Translated Thor, carefully. Amusing Loki with his choice of words.

“Well tell that oath-breaking swine he must offer more than greetings if he desires peace!” Odin snarled.
Loki winced at his harsh words, glancing apprehensively across the table and watching Thor’s blank expression.

“Odin All-father, returns the greeting.” Loki held his breath, waiting for Thor to correct what he had said with an accurate translation. Instead, Thor said nothing. In fact, Loki thought he spotted a slight twitch in that well-guarded countenance, hinting at a smile. Interesting.

Laufey, however was not so composed.
“You expect me to listen to the lies dripping off that serpent’s tongue like venom? All the realms know the fork-tongued prince of Asgard is not to be trusted.”
Anger flared behind Loki’s eyes. His first instinct was to react to the hostile words and he could feel the hum of magic just beyond his fingertips. Yet, Loki also knew this was exactly what the giant king wanted, what both kings wanted. They maybe preach peace but they craved war. Each king was trying to antagonise the other for an excuse to return to the violence that had become second nature. It would take all of Loki’s wit and skill to prevent further bloodshed. As he gathered the right words to convey the message, Laufey’s general spoke instead.

“My king would prefer that I translated your majesties words, so he could hear the words of the powerful Odin in the voice of his kin.”
Loki stared at Thor. That wasn’t a mistranslation. It wasn’t a hedge or rephrasing of Laufey’s words. Thor had taken his king’s words and discarded them like they were nothing more petty scrapes of parchment. This was the highest form of treason Loki could imagine. Thor had stolen Laufey’s voice and was bending it to his own will. The Prince couldn’t understand why.

The talks continued, each king waiting impatiently for their translator to mutter in their own ear. As dull as it may sound, Loki found himself relishing in both the linguistic and political challenge. It took a significant proportion of his wit and knowledge to translate what Laufey was saying in a way that wouldn’t result in retaliation from Odin. However, Loki’s real focus was centred on the opposing translator. Constantly, he strained his ears to pick out what Thor was saying. The more he heard, the more Loki admired Thor’s linguistic gymnastics. Like himself, Thor carefully chose his words to minimise the hostilities being showered down by Odin onto Laufey. More important than this admiration, Loki reminded himself, was to ensure Thor wasn’t bending Odin’s words as he had done with Laufey’s. An unspoken agreement had emerged between the two translators which meant they would overlook the odd rephrasing or hedging of expression which was to the benefit of soothing the peace talks. Nevertheless, if Thor was to lie about Odin’s words, Loki would have no choice but to inform his father. The results of such a betrayal would not be pleasant for either party. Peace would be unthinkable.

The topic of conversation had firmly stayed within the trivial. Nothing any more exciting than the surrender of Asgardian livestock raided by Jotun soldiers and in return, the sanctions on Jotunhiem’s fur industry to be lifted. Loki was relieved by the nature of the talks. It was these small solutions pathed the way for a lasting peace. This was until Laufey lost his patience.

“Ask him, Serpent Prince, when the ‘great’ Odin will remove all of the Asgardian dogs from my realm? The stink of them sours the very air as they leach off my land.” The giant king snarled suddenly, after Odin’s refusal to pay reprimands for the cloak Laufey had soiled in battle.

Loki hesitated. The concept of complete withdrawal would be impossible for months, even after successful peace talks. Odin would never agree. The war would rage once more.
“King Laufey enquires about plans for the withdrawal of troops.” Loki murmured, stealing a quick glance to Thor. That had been a selective translation at best. Thor was as expressionless as ever.
“Never.” Odin growled. “Too much Asgardian blood has been spilt upon the lands we have taken. The very soil is stained red with the fluids of the fallen. Even the rivers flow with the tears of Asgardian widows. These Jotun cowards must pay for the pain they have caused.”

Loki fought to keep his eyes from rolling. He mused over whether Laufey would call upon his army there and then, or simply vault the table and smack Odin in the face himself. Loki noted how even Thor, who had been so sure and confident, hesitated now. Loki was eager to hear how Thor would spin this one.

“King Odin states he will consider troop withdrawal if all Asgardian prisoners are returned unharmed at the soonest possible date.”

Loki inhaled sharply. That was not what his king had said. Not even close. Thor had lied. Worse than that, he taken Odin’s very voice and replaced it with his own. Loki should say something. He should speak out and put an end to this. That would mean war. How long with this one be? A decade, a century, a millennia? A thousand was a small number compared to countless deaths more war would bring. Loki thought of the wide-eyed children, who had seen everything but peace. His mouth remained closed. Thor’s eyes were on him.

“Ha! So One-Eye can have more of those Asgardian ants scurrying on my lands? I will return one prisoner for every two Asgardian dogs Odin calls to their kennels. I’ll even throw in the wench Brunhild, she’s more trouble to keep than she is worth.”
Loki stared.

It had work. Thor treachery to his own king had led to the most progress any discourse between the warring races had reached in centuries. Loki hastily translated this to his father, struggling to keep his voice neutral. Even Odin was shocked, of course, from what he had heard, Laufey seemingly offered this compromise from nowhere. It was then Loki realised the genius of Thor’s lie. Each king believed it was the other who had compromised, and each that it was them who had broke the other’s resolve.

Loki fought his grin through the next hour of talks, out of the peace room and all the way back to his chamber. He flopped backwards on to his bed, smirking at the ceiling. Thor Laufeysward, the great warrior, the terror of Asgard and bringer of misery was, perhaps, the second most skilled negotiator in the nine realms. Loki knew himself to be the first, but if anyone could bring peace to the Jotunheim, they could. Together.

Chapter Text

Loki was still grinning when there came a knock at his door. He sat up. No one ever disturbed Loki once he was in his chambers, not even his father. Too many servants had narrowly escaped an ink pot or shoe to the face to brave the closed door of Loki Odinson. Of course, the poor servants of Jounheim had yet to encounter his wrath. Loki swung out of bed, quickly reminded himself he was at peace talks, and revised the list of Jotun curses on the tip of his tongue.
It wasn’t until his hand was hovering above the handle that Loki thought of who else could be behind his door. He had yet to meet his opposing translator outside of the peace room. Thor was the other side of the door, he had to be. Perhaps he had come to explain his actions in the talks. Or maybe, to discuss a plan to trick Laufey into peace. Loki eagerly heaved the door open, but it wasn’t Thor he saw.
It was an einherjar soldier, and he was totally inebriated.
“My sire, Prince Asgard o’ Loki. Hic. I… We wanted if you’d come to the tavern, please now sire.”
Loki’s blood was hot for the first time he had crossed into to the icy realm. Yet, he well knew that he was under the eyes of Joutunheim. His usual flight to anger would show his weakness.
“It appears you may have been without me already.” He hissed.
“Nah we wouldn’t. Hic. Wouldn’t do that or maybe we would but ya see Bjorn, hic, you know Bjorn, Snorri’s cousin, well he’s hic got a thing for ladies you see. So he’s all like, lets sees who’s about and the rest of the group are like, what you mean? And Bjorn, he’s all like, Tavern? And like, we says hic, we says, nah lad, ‘cus you’re father, what’s-his-face?, said “huhhh I’m Odin, no drinking cus I hate fun and love making Ragnar,” that’s me by the way, “march all bloody day.” Then Bjorn’s like, Taveern? And we’re like no. But then Bjorn’s like Taavveerrnnnnn?! And, screw it, we’re like yeah, maybe it will hic keep out the cold…”
“Get to it, soldier!” Loki snarled, very close to slamming the door on Ragnar’s red nose.
“Baaaasically, Bjorn’s gone goatshit, has his sword to the barkeeps throat and we’re wondering if you can translate what all these damn giants are screaming at us?”
Loki sighed.
“Very well.”
The tavern, if that’s what Jotuns call hole bored into a glacier of ice with vomit congealing on the floor and blood freezing on the walls, was full. Loki had to jostle himself through towers of Jotun to reach the far corner, where most of the Jotuns and a handful of Asgardians were gathered. Despite wearing his most weather-beaten cloak and casual tunic, Loki was still painfully overdressed. He had meant to hide himself so no one would know the Asgardian prince had visited the grottiest tavern in all the realms, (perhaps with the except of one called the Wetherspoons in Midgard). Nevertheless, once his presence entered the circle surrounding the now famed Bjorn and the giant bartender he had pinned at sword point, all eyes were on him.
“What happened?” Loki asked, curtly. This was the very last place he wanted to be.
A ruckus erupted from both Asgardians and Jotuns speaking at once.
“Quiet!” Loki shouted and pointed at one of the Asgardians. “You. Explain.”
“Well, Bjorn, my prince, hic he has got a thing for ladies you see and-”
“About the current situation.”
“This bloody Jotun cur ‘as bled me dry, my liege!” Bjorn snarled, inching his sword higher as the giant under him growled in return. The circle of Jotuns around them pressed tighter. This would not end well. “ ‘E’s charged me a king’s ransom for a single horn of ale!”
“How much?” Loki sighed. This fool threatened war over nothing more than beer.
“An insulting amount, my prince, enough to make my ancestors rise from their graves and-”
“How much?” Loki asked with a Jotun’s tongue.
“Three gold pieces, prince.” Answered the barkeep.
“Three gold?! Is your beer from Valhalla? Does it make warriors into poets? That’s an excessive amount for a horn of ale.”
“Three gold is a fair price,” A voice, strangely accented Asgardian, floated from up from behind the ring of giants. “When considering the size of the horns..”
Loki glanced to the horns scattered across the iced floor. Norns! Were those Bilsnipe horns? They were at least three foot long. And numerous.
“… and the amount.” The owner of the voice strode forward and the Jotuns parted, some inclining their heads in respect as their famed warrior strode forward. Thor raised an oddly blond eyebrow and waited Loki’s answer.
“Agreed.” Loki focused his green eyes on the red ones level with his. “Let the barkeep up. I shall see to it they pay him.”
There was more jostling. Bjorn began to protest as he was pulled back by his drinking partners. A general complaint against the price rose once more.
“I shall provide the coin.” Loki place three gold coins from his pocket on a nearby table. “But you shall pay once your King learns of your actions tonight. Return to your barracks.”
The Asgardian soldiers, heads down, shoulders hunched, filed out of the tavern as the sulked like scolded children. Loki watched them leave before beginning to follow them out. A cold hand was rested upon his shoulder.
“Stay. Drink with me.” The words were Jotun. Loki didn’t need to look to know it was Thor’s hand. It was small for a giant, but the ice bit through his cloak into his shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” Loki snapped, his heart pounding. He spun to face Thor who stood with his hands raised, his expression shocked. “I am the heir of Asgard, son of Odin and future king of the realm eternal. Know your place, Jotun.”
“Apologies prince. I meant no harm.” Thor’s voice was low and Loki knew why. The violent tension that had so recently been calmed was sparking again.
“I cannot drink with you.” Loki switched languages, knowing only Thor could understand him as he tried to soothe the atmosphere. “It is not appropriate for those who sit opposite at the table of peace to sit across a table of drinks. Beside, my father has decreed that his people will remain within their barracks.”
Thor raised that devilish eyebrow once more, its golden hue so striking against the blue flesh.
“And you always do what daddy tells you?”
……………………………………………………………………………………..

That is how Loki found himself sharing ale with the most feared enemy of his people, cramped into a tiny alcove in the second grottiest tavern in the whole nine realms. He should feel at least an ounce of regret. Should.
“Well. This is cosy.” Loki was barely a foot away from Thor. He tried not to think about how that icy breath condensed upon his cheek.
“I thought this spot would be the best.” Thor held his horn of ale tightly and took a sip.
“Worried about being overheard?”
“Ha!” Thor laughed, and rocked back on his stool. “No one can understand us. I am the only Jotun in this entire realm who can understand you in this tongue.”
“And why are we using this tongue?” Loki mused, also sipping his horn. A cow horn, mind, not the sweeping length of Bilshipe that looked so comical in Thor’s runty hand.
“Well I thought it may suit you better. Considering the dire state of your Jotun.”
“My Jotun is excellent I’ll have you know.” Snapped Loki. “I had the finest tutors in the entire realms.”
“It shows.” Thor smirked slightly at so easily antagonising Loki. “You speak as if your tongue is baby cow-skin and the words are so perfectly scribed there. So regimented, so formal, so textbook.”
“The correct term is vellum.” Loki returned the smirk. “And if I wanted to speak like a Jotun drunkard, I would have had my father send for you.”
“Daddy’s perfect boy.”
“Watch your bilingual tongue or I will rip it out.” Warned Loki casually, his tone light and refusing Thor’s bait. “You sound like Laufey with such petty torments.”
“I am nothing like Laufey.” Snarled Thor.
“No?”
“His desires do not reflect my own.”
“Laufey desires war.”
“And I do not!” Thor’s voice was low and loud, rumbling like snow-cloud thunder.
“What’s a war general like you without a battle? Is the great general Thor finally hanging up his war-hammer? Will he find himself a farm and breed pigs?” Loki leaned forward. “War defines you, Laufeysward.”
“It defines us all.”
Thor’s bitterness was… unexpected. Loki had heard all the stories of Jotunheim’s famous general. An orphan, so it is told, only know war as a father and battle as a mother. At first this was a joke at the banquet table; Thor was the tiny terror of the Icekeld, the little leader of Snowtoft. It soon seemed the best of all giants was least giant of them. But then, as the war turned against Asgard, fearful whispers carried his name all the way to the war table. Thor could never find out that he alone brought Jotunheim off its knees and pulled Asgard to peace talks.
“We define ourselves.” Loki retorted. “Some of us think about more than about skull cleaving and bone breaking. Our talents lie off the battlefield. We carry our weapons in our heads, not our hands.”
“Remind me to lend you my whetstone then.” Thor grinned. “Your Jotun tongue needs sharpening.”
“It wasn’t me whose linguists were lacking today!” Loki barked. He regretted it immediately. The event at the peace table had not been mentioned, though it burned in Loki’s mind. By mentioning out loud, Loki felt as though he had broken an unspoken treaty between them.
“So you did hear.” Thor took a mighty gulp of beer. “I wasn’t so sure. I could feel your eyes and almost see your ears straining to hear me, yet you said nothing.”
“Was there anything to say?” Loki’s smile was perilously sharp. “Why should I care if you lie to your king?”
“I thought you told daddy everything.”
“Do you just not know what the word ‘father’ is?” Loki sighed. “Perhaps it’s because you never had one. Or a mother, come to that.”
“Oh I know.” Thor gripped the table as he closed the distance between them, stopping just inches from Loki’s face. “What I don’t know is why his treasonous son would allow any enemy translator to corrupt his words.”
The image of wide-eyed children flashed behind Loki’s eyes. He leaned back in his chair, restoring the original space between him and Thor. Loki sipped his beer, letting it soothe his throat before providing his answer.
“I hardly needed to concern the King with such trivial matters. The end result was in Asgard’s best interest, that’s hardly treason.”
Thor scoffed and he too leaned back, titling his head to finish the final dregs of beer; Loki was barely half way through his own.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, serpent-tongue.”
Loki’s patience had officially run out.
“Listen here you Jotun Runt.” If Thor was going to call him serpent tongue, he was going to receive a full dose of venom. “I serve two things in this world: myself, and Asgard. In that order. Not Odin, not my king, not my father, no matter if they are one and the same. As for you, you blue-skinned warmonger, I don’t care what kind of coup you plan against Laufey, as long as it will benefit myself and Asgard. You can make up what ever lies you want. Hel, you can ride into tomorrow’s talks naked on a bilgesnipe for all I care. Just don’t attempt to hinder myself or Asagrd, or your entire race will be eradicated by my own hand.”
Thor blinked.
“You want to see me naked?”
“What?”
“You just said you want to see me naked.”
“I didn’t-”
“As flattering as it is…”
“Shut your icy-
“… I must decline. It is not appropriate for those who sit opposite at the table of peace to share a bed.”
Loki stood, knocking his knees on the table. He wiped his mouth, adjusted his tunic and dropped his horn of ale with little care for the drink that sloshed onto the floor. Flourishing his cape, Loki turned towards the exit. Anger burned on his face and seemed the only source of heat in the ice cave come tavern.
“Leaving so soon, Odinson?” Thor called after him in Jotun tongue, drawing jeers from his fellow giants.
Loki did not look back.
 

Chapter Text

The peace talks had been scheduled early the next morning, will no regard to Thor’s raging headache. Perfect. Norns, what had he drank last night? He moaned and flung out his blue, muscular arms. Something smooth and cool touched his hand, allowing his finger tips to trace along its long curves. Hmmm. A fair ice-maiden perhaps? There had certainly been a few looking at him last night. Or that young archer who wouldn’t stop staring at him? Thor would have enjoyed him in his bed. Whoever it was, they were pleasantly cold, with silky skin and hollow… Thor’s eyes peeled open. He could see the blurry outline of a drinking horn in his bed and, by Ymir, it was a bilgesnipe’s. Hel.

The evening’s events came swirling sickeningly back to Thor. He had been drinking, there had been a fight and there had been the prince. The Asgardian prince. Loki. Of course, he had invited him to drink with him. Thor remember some vague plan to persuade Loki not to turn him in for his… ambitious translations. He had heard all the rumours of the prince. While none of them were exactly kind, all contained tales of the young prince’s wit and cunning. If anything could help Thor bring peace to his homeland, it had to be the genius of Loki. All Thor needed to do was to find out what Loki wanted and use it to bribe him into peace. It was underhand, dishonest, and utterly against Thor’s warrior morals; Loki was sure to agree to it. It had been a pleasant surprise when the Asgardian had allowed his mistranslations to slide. Two golden brows furrowed as the small giant tried to remember why the plan hadn’t worked.

Oh.

Oh no.

 Surely he didn’t…? Surely Thor didn’t suggest Loki wanted to sleep with him? Thor groaned and punched the bed, which groaned just as loudly. He wanted to crawl back under the covers and never leave again. He was an idiot. But Laufey’s voice was already booming down the corridor, calling for him. It was going to be a long morning.

The peace talks were even more boring than yesterday. Thor could barely keep his head from lulling forward and slamming on the table. He had to concentrate, this was important. Concentration was never his strong point. He could swing his hammer for hours and march for days, but he struggled to focus on Odin’s cursing speeches about how Laufey was a brainless oaf and probably ate his first born, before switching out the curses and altering the entire utterance to one that wouldn’t immediately lead to mass genocide.

Loki was no help.

That damn self-entitled Asgardian was bright eyed and immaculately dressed. Thor could see nothing but that awfully wonderful smirk as he rested his throbbing head in his hands. That smug bastard. How dare he drink a reasonable amount before important peace talks that could end a thousand-year-old war? That was cheating. Worse than that, Loki was being very good at his job today. Not only was he translating Laufey’s words fluently, he had somehow found word-for-word translations of some of the most obscure Jotun curses Thor had ever heard. This only worsened Odin’s foul mood.

“Laufey, you are a nothing more than the goat muck I scrape off my boot. Not even Sultur would waste a flame to melt you into the sorry puddle that a dwarf would mix with piss and sell for Jotunheim ale!”

What the Hel was that? It was just a string of oddly worded insults. There wasn’t even a point. In Ymir’s name, how was he to translate that? That was when the inevitable happened. Thor’s head slipped from his hands and thudded thunderously against the table.

All three of the others turned and looked at him.

“It appears my Jotun counterpart is unwell. Perhaps it would be best if he retired early. I could take over his role and translate for his highness as well.”

Thor shot up straight. Loki’s suggestion in Jotun tongue would give him unlimited power over this whole negotiation. Considering how uncharacteristically honest the prince of lies was today, that would mean war by sundown.

“That’s not necessary. I feel fine. A little weary, maybe, but there is no reason I cannot continue.”

“The snake-prince is right. You are in no state to continue. I already burden myself by relying on a runt’s mouth rather than my own ears, and I will not tolerate a drunk runt’s slurs.” Laufey’s words were boomed harshly in Thor’s ears and the general’s face was pricked with shame. “I also refuse to bare my ears the poisonous lies of the so-called prince. We shall adjourn until tomorrow.”

Laufey stood and turned to leave, Thor staggering behind him. One last glance was thrown Loki’s way. He was still smirking and returned Thor’s glare with a sarcastic wave. Thor hated him. Loki was an arrogant ass, but, as today proved, Thor needed his help. The war general followed his king out of the hall, down a corridor before Laufey stopped suddenly. Without turning to look at Thor, Laufey spoke.

“Embarrass me like that again, Thor, and you will no longer have your tongue to speak any language with.” Then strode forward with unmatchable strides, leaving Thor alone in the corridor.

He had to find Loki.

Thor spun and ran down the high corridors, taking every shortcut he knew in an attempt to catch up with Loki. He had to fix this. Now. Before peace became impossible and he spent another century burying his fallen comrades.

As Thor skidded around an icy corner, he spotted Loki walking beside Odin down a narrow hallway. He quickly pursued them, catching part of their conversation as he neared them.

“… As I predicted, Laufey will not see reason. We must send word to Asgard, have them prepare for war once more.” Odin was muttered.

“That’s rather rash, my King. We should at least wait until the peace talks are over before doing anything that may appear as a threat to the ceasefire.”

“The peace talks are over. Laufey cannot insult me as you have told me he has and expect me not to retaliate.”

“My king, I-”

“Prince Loki,” Thor called out, embarrassingly breathless. “Allfather, may I speak with your son?”

Odin turned, his one eye smouldering with fury. It didn’t appear he was open for some light chit-chat, but Thor’s eyes weren’t on the Asgardian king. Loki stood slightly behind his father, his typical flawless composure strained with eyes slightly too wide. Thor didn’t care about Odin, though he knew he should. Odin was almost identical to Laufey, though either would kill anyone who dared make such a comparison. Both kings were too old, too stubborn and been fighting the same damned war too long. Loki was young, even younger than Thor by a couple of years. Any hope of peace was to be found in the new blood, not the old.

“You dare-” Fumed Odin, before his son cut him off.

“There will be plenty of time for discussion at tomorrow’s talks Laufeysward.” Loki stated, coldly. He turned his back to Thor. “Come, father. We must dine before we retire for the evening.”

“I’m sorry for what happened in the tavern last night.” Spluttered Thor. He was desperate to speak with Loki. The same Loki whose sleek neck paled at his words.

“You,” Odin began, “Were in the tavern? With Thor Laufeysward?”

“Alfather, I can explain-”

“After I superficially decreed no one was to leave the barracks?”

“Father please-”

“I would have expected that of brainless soldiers, but not from a prince of his realm.” Odin’s snarl was filled with disgust. “In my chambers, now.”

Odin stormed down he corridor, leaving Loki staring fearfully after him.

“Loki, I…”

“Haven’t you done enough? Return to your chambers, Laufeysward.” Loki spat in Jotun, he turned and followed his father. Thor stared, watching him go, as he stood alone in the corridor.

The walk back to his chambers was a slow one. Thor’s sore head hung low, He almost imagine his shame weighed it down. Shame from failing Laufey, from insulting Odin and the most unbearable shame for angering Loki. All he wanted was to make things right. He knew there was a way Asgard and Jotunheim could exist side by side and, perhaps, even benefit from an alliance rather than wasting so many lives in an unwinnable war. Instead, he had made things worse that he could imagine. Thor kicked a lose chunk of ice, watching glumly was it bounced ahead of him. What an awful day.

“Well, if it isn’t our little Snowdrop?”

It was about to get even worse.

Behind Thor stood Helblindi and Býleistr, the bastard sons of Laufey. They were not the biggest of Thor’s advocates, especially after Laufey took Thor under his arm and paid him more attention than he had to his own sons. They enjoyed making Thor’s life as close to Hel as possible.

“We’ve heard you in a little bit of trouble?”

“Has father been short with you?”

“Said you’d been drinking, that’s a low blow.”

“Especially over something so small.”

They did lack some imagination, though.

Thor ignored them and slammed shut the door of his chamber. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up from this nightmare of a day.

There was perhaps one slight issue with this, and it took the form of an Asgardian prince, standing in the centre of his room, looking pissed.

Chapter Text

“Um… Can I help you?”

“Help? Is that what you’ve been calling your meddling?”

“Loki I’m sorry-”

“Do you even know what kind of trouble I’m meant to be with Odin right now?”

“I know, I- Wait. Meant to be?” Thor frowned. “Did you find your way out of it?”

That sly grin weaved its way across Loki’s face.

“I could have done, but it would have been a waste of my skills.” Loki began wandering around Thor’s room, looking with curious eyes. “No. I simply left him with a convincingly humbled illusion.”

“You’re casting an illusion? At this distance?” Thor was genuinely shocked He’d heard the tales of Loki’s magical ability, but this was beyond what he had imagined Loki could do.

“Oh please.” Loki grinned at Thor’s disbelief. “The illusion was simple. The hard bit was teleporting here, past Laufey’s wards, to hide from my father.”

“So that’s what you’re doing here?” Thor frowned, increasing the pounding in his head. “To hide?”

“Yes, yes, I know, very cowardly of me.” Picking up the bilgesnipe horn still in Thor’s bed, Loki then turned back to face the Jotun runt. “Norns you must have been truly drunk last night. Still suffering for it?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Winced Thor.

“Well Laufey’s right about one thing,” Loki fished about in his pockets. “You’re useless in this state.”

“Cheers for that.” Thor muttered, still bitter about that morning’s events.

“Here. Drink this.” Loki presented Thor with a small vile, with something green and oozy corked within.

Thor took it from the pale, outstretched hand. He uncorked it, shuddered at its smell, and downed it in one gulp. The taste was surprising tolerable. After wiping his mouth, he looked back at Loki who was staring at him, his mouth gaping.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you drank that.”

“It wasn’t too bad. A little mossy maybe…”

“No. I can’t believe you drank a random elixir I gave you.”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t even know what it was!”

Thor scratched his beard. “Um… Was it a hangover remedy?”

“Yes it was!” Snapped Loki. “But that’s hardly the point. It could have been a drug or poison. Yet, you downed it like it was honey wine!”

“And?”

“You would be incredibly easy to assassinate, you do realise that?”

“No one’s tried it yet.”

“Hmmm. Quite true. You might not want to drink the next vile I hand you. You can be rather annoying, and I have very little patience.”

“Well whatever it was you gave me, it’s not working.” Thor growled. If anything, the throbbing had increased.

“Oh, it will. Any second now-”

“Ahhhhhh!”

“There we go!” Loki smirked. “Feeling better?”

“No. It hurt!” Thor scowled. “What kind of… Oh.”

“All gone?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Now. What was it you so desperately wanted to tell me?”

Thor took a breath. It felt good to able to think clearly once again. Not that it did him much good. He didn’t have a clue what to tell Loki. What was he meant to say? Hey, do you want to commit treason together? Idiot. That was the stupidest thought he had ever had. He had to think of something much better.

“So um… Do you want to commit treason together?”

“WHAT?”

“I mean, we’ve technically already done that if you think about it. The whole mistranslation thing we did yesterday would probably qualify for that.”

“I told you before-”

“I know, I know, Asgard’s best interest, serving yourself, me naked on a bilgesnipe blah blah… But you know as well as I that the only place theses talks are going to is Niflheim and I just think that maybe we could work together to change that, because I want what’s best for Jotunheim, you want what’s best for Asgard,  and what’s best for yourself of course which sounds horrible but is probably true for all of us, and what’s best for everyone is peace and anything has to be better than this unending, Norn-forsaken war!”

Thor gasped for breath, eyes falling on Loki. His expression was neutral, calculated as it always was when it wasn’t smirking at Thor’s misery. Thor hadn’t noticed how pale the prince’s skin really was. It glowed almost white in the pale light of Thor’s chamber. He could almost be mistaken for a petit, fair-skinned ice-maiden, if not for his small size and narrowing green eyes.

“You really want peace, don’t you?”

“Would I be making such a fool of myself if I didn’t?” Thor gestured helplessly. He was done. There was nothing more he could say. Either Loki would listen to him, or he’d might as well head back to the battlefield that minute

Loki sighed.

“Well, if you want to discuss peace, you’d better invite me to sit.”

……………………………………………………………………………………..

They talked long into the night. It was hard going. They bickered, they swore, the cursed each other’s mothers. Thor momentarily stormed out, twice, before remembering that it was his room they were talking in. Loki was no better, even sticking his fingers in his ears when Thor suggest a particularly steep tariff reform. Nevertheless, progress was being made. Loki leaned back in the hastily fetched, rickety chair and rest his feet on the upturned bucket that was their improv peace table.

“So tell me, Thor, how long have you been planning on stabbing Laufey in the back and take his place on his throne?”

“I haven’t been.”

“No?”

“I’m as loyal to my realm as you are.” Thor rubbed his hand of his stubble. “Even more loyal, probably. I would never betray my king.”

“This is kind of betraying him though?” Loki’s eyes danced with mischief.

“You know nothing about Laufey.”

“Only that he is nothing like you, apparently. Which must make him the most charming genius in the nine.”

Thor snorted with laughter, despite himself. He couldn’t help it. The Odinson was all that he was said to be; smart, witty, sharp as an ice shard, but they never mentioned his wicked sense of humour. It was unheard of for an ice giant to warm to anyone, but Thor could sense himself beginning to melt.

“Well I manged to charm you into agreement on those tariffs.”

“As if!” Loki laughed. “It was my cunning wit that tricked you into lowering them!”

They both laughed. The tension fading out of the room. Thor once more looked at Loki who smiled absentmindedly. It was if shaking with laughter had shook off one of the many layers he wore on his face. Thor knew there were many more to come but found himself excited to peel away each one.

“So why do you defend Laufey so fiercely?” Loki’s eyes bore into him. “He wants to prolong this war you apparently dislike so much.  It has been the source of much of the suffering of both our people, yet you will not a hear one bad word about him.”

Thor sighed.

“Laufey has been blinded to reason.” Thor began sadly. “He once was a great king… And still is! He loves his realm and people above almost everything else. The only thing he loves more is his family, and his son most of all.”

“Son?” Loki frowned. “You mean those two slush-brains, what are they called? Helblindi and Býleistr?

“No, not his bastard sons.” Thor silently thrilled Loki’s shared dislike for them. “His heir.”

“Laufey has no heir.”

“He did.”

“No.” Loki stated firmly. “Laufey has never had a child. He was married but his queen died giving birth to a twisted monstrosity. The creature was so foul that the Jotun’s killed it the instant they saw it. If it lived at all.”

Thor stared. It sounded as if Loki was quoting this. A story told to him over and over until it had become fact.

“The queen died, yes, and this broke Laufey’s heart, but the child didn’t.”

“That… thing is alive?” The disgust on Loki’s face was almost comical. Thor could only imagine what lies he had been told about the child of Laufey.

“He did live.” Thor smiled sadly. “And he wasn’t deformed. He was born different, small, a runt. Laufey loved him though. The babe was all that remained of his beloved wife and Laufey loved him with the ferocity of a thousand raging blizzard.”

“It wasn’t enough though?” Loki’s voice was harsh. “They still killed him. He was different. He was small and weak and the people of Jotunheim didn’t want that on their throne.”

“Weak like me?”

“That’s not the same.” Loki muttered. “You had a chance to prove yourself. The babe did not.”

“No, he didn’t.” Thor’s eyes locked with Loki’s. “Asgard took that chance away from him.”

Loki flinched.

“You lie.”

“You would know if I had.” Thor reasoned quietly. “And the fact you do not currently have your knife to my throat tells me you already knew this.”

“It’s propaganda.” Loki darted his eyes from Thor, focusing on his clasped hands in his lap. “When I was learning Jotun, I was tired of reading the same old boring sentences my tutor invented for me. I wanted to read real Jotun texts written by actual frost giants. I searched the entire Asgardian library and couldn’t find a single page written by a Jotun. It was years later, in the market place, that I found the scrap of newspaper from Jotunheim stuffed in a second hand boot.”

“What did it say?”

“The usual Jotunheim indoctrination!” Snarled Loki. “Accusing Asgard of the worst crimes ever committed in the nine realms. Rape, genocide… infanticide. It wasn’t even original. I mean, killing babies, it’s hardly imaginative. Asgard did the same. They created rumours about the evil of Jotunheim that only became more and more ridiculous. Just the same biased bullshit used over and over again until it became meaningless. A story to scare children; behave or the Jotun’s will come and eat you. A joke in the local tavern’s; I met a whore who swallowed more of my babies than a frost giant. Tragedy becomes comedy the second it’s viewed through dry eyes. So why should I be surprised that the other side did the same?”

“The death of our prince has never and will never be a joke.”

Thor wanted to be angry with Loki’s callus words, but there was a bitterness in the Asgardian’s voice that stopped him. “And it never was for you, was it?”

Loki inhaled audibly.

“How could it be?” Loki’s eyes returned to Thor’s, misty with trapped tears. “He was killed for being different. He wasn’t big and strong. He didn’t strike fear into those who saw him. They saw that as weakness.  He was killed because he couldn’t be the king his father was.”

“Loki…”

“This was a mistake.” Loki stood up and headed to the door.

“Loki, wait!”

Loki spun and stared at Thor, tears hanging on his cheeks.

“Oh…”

“If your worried about our arrangement, Laufeysward,” Loki began stiffly. Thor could almost see Loki put back up his layers of stony composure. “I shall not abandon it. I will be your ally at the peace talks.”

Then Loki stepped out of the Thor’s room, leaving the Jotun alone with nothing but a pair of empty chairs and an upturned bucket.

Chapter Text

Loki was tired.

Not that anyone would notice. He was just as sharp with his translation at that morning’s peace talks; quickly translating for Odin even before Laufey had finished speaking. His wording was particular but precise, verbally shepherding Odin towards the terms he and Thor had worked out the night before. Thor did the same with Laufey. The talks were making swift progress, though neither king seemed exactly happy about this no matter how they claim to want peace.

It wasn’t physical tiredness that Loki felt pinning him down. It was emotional exhaustion. His eyes stayed focused on Laufey, the sheet of paper in front of him, or his clasped hands that fidgeted in his lap. He looked anywhere that wasn’t Thor. Embarrassed wasn’t the right word. It was more like a hot shame that overfilled him whenever he accidently met Thor’s gaze. Thor had been staring at him. Loki felt strangely hot under the warm red eyes that look nowhere but a him. Whatever the Jotun general thought of his break down last night, Loki dreaded to think. How could he had cried in front of the most feared war leader on this entire realm? Pathetic. And about what? About being different? About being like a murdered prince? Loki was only too aware of how privileged his up bringing was, especially in comparison to a runt giant raised on the battlefield. Thor must hate him, norns, he must hate him.

Thor loved him.

As he sat at that table, Thor knew that’s must be what it was. Love. He wasn’t certain; he had never felt it before. But when he watched a blush rise up Loki’s high, pale cheeks, Thor knew, and he was terrified. For a thousand years, he had walked the battlefields of Jotunheim. Dragon skulls, and screaming trolls melted in comparison with the fear he felt now. Already Thor had come close to messing everything up. What if it he did it again? He imagined never seeing Loki’s obnoxious smirk again and winced. Why was that? Why did it he need that in his life so badly? And why had everything gone so quiet?

“Thor?”

Laufey was glaring at Thor, but for once, Thor hardly cared. Not even Laufey’s disapproval could distract him Loki’s green eyes, and the single, arched brow above them. He was beautiful. Not because of his handsome face, although that certainly didn’t hurt, but because of what lay behind it. Thor wanted to see every single expression on Loki’s face. He wanted to know everything about Loki despite his fear. Thor was no stranger to terror. This may have been like any terror of his past, but Thor would face it the same way, with his two feet planted on the ground, his stance strong and staring the fear head on.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” Thor asked, breaking out of his daze and realising he had missed what Odin had just said.

Laufey’s red eyes widen then narrowed quickly. Thor was in trouble now.

“King Laufey.” Loki cut through the tension. “May I request a recess? We have progressed significantly further than I believed we would and I must convene with my father to determine how we would like to continue.”

A twisted smile crossed Laufey’s face.

“Well if you have failed to prepare properly that is hardly a concern of mine.”Laufey glanced at his translator. “But I suppose I will allow you an hour or so, in good faith for peace.”

“That is most gracious, King Laufey. I thank you.”

Thor watched as Loki rose to leave, a confused Odin following. Loki had saved him, at his own expense. He smiled slightly has he heard Loki easily lie to Odin about a reason for the interval in the talks. Pushing back his chair, Thor stood to up to follow and hopefully catch Loki alone. What he was going to say to him was an entirely different matter. However, Laufey’s huge hand pulled him back down. Oh norns. Thor had forgotten he was not in his king’s best graces.

“Thor.”

“Yes, my king?”

“Do you know what I do to those who fail me?”

“Um… Something unpleasant?”

“Most unpleasant.”

“My apologies my king.”

“Have you ever wondered why I have tolerated you for so long?”

“For my charms and good looks?” The quip left Thor’s mouth before he hadn’t even thought about it. Clearly Loki’s wit was rubbing off on him, Laufey shared the thought.

“You have spent too much time with the trickster prince.”

“My king-”

“I know, Thor.” Laufey turned to his general. “I know about tavern incident and your little meeting last night. Loki maybe be able to trick his snow-melt father, but I am not as blind as Old One Eye.”

Thor sat silently.

“Whatever you think you are doing, it will not work.” Laufey said, sternly. “Loki is a born manipulator. He will play you even when you think it is you who is in charge. He will not so fall easily to your seduction-”

“Seduction?!”

“I see the way you look at him. Do you deny it?”

“I-” Thor began, before his throat closed. It was true, he couldn’t deny his new found feelings for Loki but seduction had never been his plan. Well. It hadn’t been until now.

“Er.. Yes. That was my plan, my king.” It wasn’t. Thor was more surprised than anyone that he had fallen for Loki. Yet, at least this way he could keep seeing Loki without Laufey’s suspicion. He could even flirt! Hel, he could hurdle the peace table and snog him right in the middle of the peace talks, so long as Laufey believed he was doing for Jotunheim’s protection. Now. That was a tempting idea…

“And how goes it?”

“Yeah not great.” Was Thor really doing this? Was he discussing his feelings for Loki with the giant king of Jotunheim? “It’s like Loki’s blind to me. No matter what I say or how I look at him, all he sees is an idiot.”

“Well let’s hope he’s attracted to idiots.” Laufey sighed. “What exactly is your aim with this plan?”

“I mean it’s early days but hopefully marriage, maybe a couple of kids.”

Laufey stared.

“Oh right!” Thor panicked. “I mean, that’s just what I tell him. I don’t actually what to marry him. I’m just seducing him. Yeah. Just pretending to love him. I have no actual feelings for him. Nope. I don’t love him. I don’t even like him because he’s Asgardian and we hate Asgardians. So I’m definitely not attracted to him. Not one bit. No. I just act like I am to get him to trust me. Norns, how I want him to trust me... Not in a romantic way! But in a traitorous way so he’ll tell me stuff about as Asgard and I can help save Jotunheim because that’s who I really love. I love my realm. And you of course. Obviously, again, non-romantically. Ymir’s balls, that was weird. I don’t want to, like kiss you or anything. Or Loki. No. Definitely don’t want to kiss Loki. Not even when he wears that really tight tunic with the low cut. Not that I noticed what he was wearing. How could I? I was too busy think of Jotunheim. Jotunheim that I love non-romantically.  Just patriotically. Yep. Only patriotic feelings here. Thinking about my mother realm. Long may she prosper. Long may her people live. Long live the King!”

A long silence fell as Laufey held is head in his hands.

“Well when you speak so elegantly, how can the serpent prince resist?”

“So, you approve of my plan?” Thor stated in disbelief. “My plan being to seduce Loki for information?”

“Yes. It’s uncharacteristically cunning for you.”

“Um… thank you, my king.” Thor could barely belief he had gotten away with it. “Any suggestions for how I should proceed?”

“Dine with him tonight.”

“Dinner?” Thor scratched his stubble. “I guess that could work with some candles and a nice wine-”

“And then sleep with him.”

“What?!”

“Like all males, Asgardians are likely most honest post mating.” Laufey stated matter-of-factly, like he was discussing the weather.

“I don’t know if-”

“Oh please, Thor.” Laughed Laufey. “Don’t act as if that is a burden for you. You clearly have a preference for Asgardians.”

Thor’s heart stopped.

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh.” Laufey grinned in mock surprise. “You didn’t think I knew? You didn’t think my soldiers would have told me about that night at the battle of Snowtoft and the Asgardian in your tent?”

The words fell on Thor like an avalanche, burring his thoughts in ice cold dread.

“Nothing to say?” Laufey laughed and headed for the door. “I shall send word to resume talks in an hour. Go. Find Loki and arrange to dine with him. We can only hope this latest romance ends better than your last. For Loki’s sake.”

Thor sat alone.

For a couple of minutes he struggled to breathe. The air kept catching in his throat, choking him. A blizzard ranged in his mind with only one thought clear amongst the chaos: Laufey knew. Snowtoft; the only secret he had kept from his king, and Laufey knew all this time. Or he thought he did.

Thor breathed deeply. He had no time to dwell on what happened back then. He had to find Loki. Standing up so fast he knocked over his chair, Thor rushed out of the room and down the corridor with a surprising confidence for someone who had no idea where to find Loki. Something Thor should know by now, is that it was Loki who always found him.

“In a hurry Laufeysward?”

“Loki!” Thor beamed. He turned to find Loki sitting on the sill of one of the windows of the castle with his back leaning against the wall. The pale Jotunheim sun illuminating his skin until it seemed to glow faintly.

“I take it was me you were looking for?”

“Of course!” Thor could feel his smile widening. He knew he must look like an idiot but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“What’s the matter with you?” Loki snapped.

Thor’s smiled disappeared.

“Nothing.”

“Good, because we don’t have much time. Now, about the onion embargo…”

Loki’s words began to fade from Thor’s ears. He was too busy watching Loki’s mouth. Had his lips always been that colour? Or had Thor only noticed since he decided he was in love this morning. And those teeth! So perfect. Thor wondered if Loki’s teeth were naturally that straight or had he enchanted them to be so even. If he looked close enough, Thor could just about glimpse past them at Loki’s clever tongue. All those lies, all that wit and even the answer to peace itself lay on the sharp tip of it. Thor felt himself being pulled closer towards it. This was it. He was going kiss him. They were going to kiss…

“Thor? Thor!”

Thor’s eyes snapped up into the twisting fury of Loki’s.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Of course I am!”

“No, you weren’t. What is with you today?”

“Nothing!” Answered Thor quickly, suddenly finding himself a coward. He braced himself for a lashing from Loki’s tongue. Instead, all he received was silence.

“Loki?”

“This is about last night, isn’t it?” Oh norns. Loki knew. Loki knew and still rejected him. Thor swallowed and answered honestly.

“Yes.”

“You must think me pathetic.”

Thor was stunned. How could Loki think such a thing?

“What? Why?”

“Oh please. Like you did notice me crying like scorned maiden. Poor Loki. Pity the prince who has had everything he’s ever wanted and is still eluded by happiness. Bor’s balls. You must think of me as the most self-entitles, self-centred snob in all the nine.”

“Never!”

Thor watched as that bitter shell of self-loathing crumble, leaving Loki vulnerable underneath. The Asgardian heaved a breath.

“Dine with me,” Murmured Thor. “In my chambers, tonight.”

“I can’t.” Loki answered stiffly. “I plans to dine with my king.”

“So? Get out of it. Dine with me instead.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you.” Thor choked down the tightness in his throat. “Because I want to see you. I want to talk with you. Not just about peace talks, but about everything. I want to know about your life in Asgard, your magic, your wit. I want to know who you are.”

Loki gazed up at him with widening eyes.

“You do?”

“Yes. Oh, and,” Thor supposed he’d better tell Loki sooner rather than later. “Laufey ordered me to ask you to my chambers.”

“Laufey?” Loki jumped off the sill. “Laufey knows?”

“Only about us meeting, not about what we’ve discussed. He thinks… um…”

“What?”

Thor sighed. There was no other way of saying this.

“He thinks I’m trying to seduce you?”

“He thinks what?!”

“That I’m trying to seduce you into telling me secretes about Asgard.” Thor rubbed his forehead sheepishly.

“And are you?”

“What?!” Exclaimed Thor. “No, why would you even say that?”

“Well something gave Laufey the idea you were!”

Thor’s thoughts flashed back to the tent at Snowtoft.

“Wait.” Loki held up his hand and began to pace. “This could work to our advantage. I would have an excuse to keep visiting you without raising suspicion. We’d still had to hide from Odin but I can handle that. Laufey will never suspect what we’re really discussing peace. It’s an excellent plan.”

“I know.” Huffed Thor. “That’s why I thought of it.”

“You thought of seducing me?”

“What? No!” Thor tried to fight the blush on his blue skin. “Just the other bits.”

“Of course, you’ll have to flirt with me.”

“Not a problem.” Said Thor, slightly too quickly.

“And I suppose I’ll have to reciprocate it.” Loki mused. He stopped pacing suddenly and turned to Thor.

“Re- reciprocate?” Thor stuttered.

Loki stepped towards him, annihilating any space between them. He slowly raised a delicate finger to Thor’s face and traced a cobalt cheekbone until it reached a lose strand of golden hair. Gently, Loki pushed it back behind Thor’s ear before he cupped the giant’s cheek in his cool hand. It took all of Thor’s restraint not to lean into the touch. Then, as suddenly as he had raised his hand, Loki dropped it. Thor glanced over Loki’s shoulder and saw Laufey grinning behind him. He was certain Loki had known he was there too. This was an act. All just an act to fool Laufey.

“Yes.” Loki smiled. “This is going to work perfectly.

Chapter Text

 Thor was nervous.

As he re-straightened the papers on his desk for the third time, he could feel his heart spasming in his chest. It was worse, he decided, knowing that Loki was coming. Last time he hadn’t expected the green-eyed prince to suddenly appear in his room so he hadn’t spent all this time worrying. Of course, last time he hadn’t been in love with him, pretending to seduce or trying to prevent his realm from falling back into a raging war by the power of flirting. Thor glanced around his room one more time. There wasn’t much to see; a modest bed in the centre, which he had remade a dozen times; a creaking wardrobe full of old armour freshly organised by Thor, in case Loki would want to see it, although he could not think of a reason why Loki would, and a narrow desk in the corner, crudely carved from ice. On it lay a mismatch of papers and a single quill. Thor lined it up parallel with the edge of the desk. Then changed his mind and titled it slightly so it framed the paper. No, Thor frowned, that looked too nice, like he had purposely done that to impress Loki, which, of course, he had. Straight then, he moved the quill. That way Loki will see him as organised but practical and not obsessive over tiny details. Thor frowned deeper. Now it looked like he had never even used his quill. Loki already thought he was an idiot; he didn’t want him to think he couldn’t write. Thor nudged it, then straightened and as he was nudging it again a knock came at the door. Thor knocked the quill on the floor.

He hurried to the door, palms sweating. Thor reached for the handle, then panicked. Was he too quick in opening the door? Would Loki think he was over eager? Should he even open the door? He normally just shouted enter. Oh Norns! He should he sit back down and tell Loki to enter. But would Loki think that was rude? Then again, Loki had just teleported into to his room last time. Okay, he was going to sit. On the bed or the desk? Desk. Bed was too informal. He could pretend to write! But what would he do with the quill-

The door was pushed open, and Loki stepped inside.

He gave Thor a weird look, wondering why he had just been standing behind the door and had not opened it, as he walked past. Loki pushed back his cloak hood from his head and let it hang down his shoulders. He turned and looked back at Thor.

“You didn’t teleport?” Thor suddenly blurts.

“I do have legs. I can walk perfectly fine.”

“Oh.”

“And last time was to ensure no one would know I was here, although that clearly failed,” Loki perched himself on the edge of Thor’s bed. “I’ve been considering how he found out and it’s entirely my fault.”

“I’m sure it’s not.” Thor reassured automatically.

“Isn’t it?” Loki’s eyes were full of menace when they met Thor’s. “Why then, you must be to blame.”

“That’s not what I-”

“I know.” Loki sighed. “It was the spell I used. I wanted to conceal our conversation. However, complete silence is often more conspicuous than one would wish it was. Instead, I tend to opt for a muffled sound in which conversation can be heard, but with its content being indistinguishable. Of course, my spell automatically is designed for Asgardian conversation, not Jotun. While its impossible to hear what we are saying, you can hear the tones of the language. Laufey must have had a guard outside listening and realised that I was the person you were most likely talking to. He’s smarter than he looks I guess.”

“Hey!”

“Oh right, you’re a patriot.,” Loki faked a laugh. “Sometimes I forget with all the traitor stuff we’ve been doing.”

Thor wince and scratched the back of his neck.

“Well?” Loki rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get to traitoring!”

The chairs were nicer this time. They even had cushions. Thor had picked them out specially, which was hard to do in a realm where every citizen was significantly larger than Thor. Loki sat and started talking about the intricacies of the ice sculpting industry in Asgard, proposing how Jotunheim ice was just the material many of the ice artist had been looking for and how this could lead to a booming trade opportunity. It was strange to see someone so excited about ice. Thor didn’t even care about ice that much and he was essentially made from the stuff. Nevertheless, Thor loved his enthusiasm, not caring that it had been half an hour and he had barely spoken. It was enough just to sit back and listen. For a while. Ice was boring, not matter how much Loki gushed happily about it.

“Is this really what you want to talk about?” Thor blurted, when he couldn’t bare to hear anymore about the different kinds of ice.

Loki blushed and looked down.

“Sorry.” Loki said quietly. “I was boring you.”

“No, no,” Thor reassured quickly, angry with himself for embarrassing Loki. “You could never bore me!”

Loki gave him a confused smile.

“What I meant,” Thor tried again, “Was that we’ve already covered so much for the peace talks, would you like to talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Tell me more about yourself. I want to know everything.”

“So you can feed it back to Laufey?”

“What?” Thor paused.

“You still don’t trust me, do you?”

“Don’t take it personally.” Loki said. “I don’t trust anyone. Particularly, I don’t trust people I’m currently at war with.”

“There is a ceasefire, you know.”

“Still,” Loki sighed. “I’d rather not rant about my first realm problems in front of the giant who was literally raised on the battlefield.”

Thor took a breath. “Would you like to hear about me, then?”

Loki smiled. “By all means. Just be warned that I most definitely will use anything you say against you if given the opportunity.”

Thor laughed; almost certain Loki was joking.

“I doubt there is much you could use. The entire nine realms knows all about me already.”

“Orphan, raised by the army, becomes general.” Loki counted on his fingers. “Anything else?”

“That just about covers it.” Thor winced at how his entire life could be summed up in just a sentence. “I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t fighting. Even as a child I was drilled in combat. That whole claim about me never being defeated isn’t exactly true. I used to get my arse beat constantly when I was younger. All the other giants were bigger than me. I trained every hour of the day to make sure that I could finally beat them. It was tough.”

“You should have been a prince liked me.” Loki joked. “Then every foe you faced would have been too scared to touch you.”

“I’ll bare that in mind if I ever consider a career change.”

Loki let out a surprised laughed and Thor joined in. The frost giant found himself beaming at Loki before he remembered to conceal it. It was going to be hard to pretend that he didn’t feel the feelings that consumed him entirely when he was staring at Loki’s smile.

“So why did you decide to learn Asgardian?” Loki asked with a casual interest. “It doesn’t seem like Jotunheim is exactly filled with fellow linguaphiles.”

Thor was silent for a moment. He loved Loki, but Thor didn’t know if he could trust him. If he answered this seemingly innocent question, then Loki would have everything he needed to betray Thor and have him banished forever. Without Thor leading the Jotun army, it was only a matter of time until Asgard finally defeated his home realm. Thor was about to risk everything.

“Thor?”

“Are you sure what we say will not be overheard?” Thor spoke lowly.

“I’m certain.” Answered Loki, confused. “This spell is of my own creation. It has never failed me yet. Why all this concern?”

“The story I am about to tell you is one that could destroy me.”

“What?”

“I will not beg you to keep it a secret until your grave,” Thor began. “You will use it in anyway that will benefit yourself or your realm. I only ask you if you want to hear it, if you want to be put in a position that would give you complete control over my fate. I will give you this story as a weapon against me to use as you will.”

Loki sat silently, mind racing. When he talked, he talked slowly as if he was calculating each syllable he used. “This story must be one of importance then. A story that defines you. If I said no, if I didn’t know this story about you, would I really know you?”

“You would not.”

“Then I want to hear it.” Loki looked at Thor with sad eyes. “But you are right. I would not even hesitate to use this story against you if it may save my realm.”

Thor placed his head in his hands and swore in Jotun.

“I want to hear it.” Repeated Loki, quietly. “But you shouldn’t tell me.”

Thor peaked at him though his fingers.

“I wish I was trustworthy, but I’m not.” Loki said bitterly. “I’m the serpent prince, remember? I will betray anyone, so long as I am to profit. I can’t change that. I can’t. Maybe one day, I’ll care about someone else more than me. Until them, only a fool would trust me.”

A silence fell on the room as thick as midwinter snow.

“Snowtoft!” Thor blurted. “That’s what my story is about. Do you know it?”

Loki spluttered. “Thor? Weren’t you listening? You can’t trust me! No one can!”

“No, you said only a fool would.” Thor corrected sharply. “So I will continue, like a fool. Snowtoft, do you know it?

“Of course I do, you idiot!” Loki snapped. “It was Asgard’s greatest defeat. You led Jotunheim to an incredible victory, capturing some of our strongest warriors in the process.”

“It was after the battle,” Began Thor, “When I was basking in my glorious win.”

Loki scoffed. Thor ignored him.

“I walked amongst the Asgardian prisoners. They were shackled and broken. Most barely looked at me and those who did only glared with hatred. Many of them cursed me, a few of them spat, only one of them spoke to me. At first, I assumed he was a traitor, and offered me information that would spare his life at the cost of Asagrd. Yet, there was something in his eyes. There was no fear or hatred. He wasn’t angry or begging for my mercy. His voice rumbled like an avalanche, but his words were soft and gentle. I could tell what he told me something important. Something that would change the war.”

Thor was caught in the memory, watching it play before his eyes like a dream.

“His name was Heimdall.”

“Heimdall?” Loki gasped. “You met Heimdall? I thought he died at Snowtoft!”

“He did.” Sighed Thor, grimly. “Just not in the battle.”

The was a silence as Loki struggled to grasp what he was being told.

“You killed a prisoner of war.” Loki said in shock. “That’s a war crime!”

“I know. This war has been full of them.”

“Not by you.” Loki cried out. “By monsters maybe. By Jotuns and Asgardians who are twisted and evil, but not you! You would never. You have honour!”

“I do now, but not then.” Thor couldn’t meet Loki’s eyes. “I was young and naïve. I was drunk on blood and mead. These are the excuses I tell myself. They are wrong. I did it because I could. I had won against the might of Asgard. I had Heimdall, their golden-eyed guardian at the tip of my sword. I thought I was invincible.”

“So you killed him.”

“Yes.”

“I knew him.” Loki voice was tight. “He was good a man. Not to me. But to others, to the realms, he was good to them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

There came another pause.

“What did he say?” Loki asked. “You said he spoke to you, what did he say?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well that was a fantastic story.” Loki sneered. “I especially loved the climax.”

“You asked me why I leant Asgardian.” Thor explained calmly. “That is why.”

“In case you capture another all-seeing guardian?”

Thor ignored him. “I took him back to my tent where I tried to talk to him privately. I couldn’t understand so I wrote down what he said to me. Or at least what I thought he did. I made a note of the sounds he made and as I learned Asgardian, I tried to decipher what he said.”

Loki stared.

“It was pretty smart, I know.” Thor smirked.

“Why didn’t you get Heimdall to write it for you?”

“What?” Thor frowned.

“He could have written it in Asgardian, then you could have translated it.”

“Ah.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Do you want to know what I have deciphered?”

“No Thor!” Loki stood up, knocking over his chair. “You’re asking too much of me. I told you I didn’t want to know. I told you! But you carried on anyway. Then you told me you killed a hero of Asgard and wrote down a load of gibberish instead of his final words, which just so happens to be some massive secret that could change the war!”

“I-”

“Because those were his final words, right?” Loki lent over the table, face inches from Thor’s. “After you had finished writing nonsense, you took him outside and killed him.”

“I had to, Loki!”

“He was a prisoner!” Loki shouted though his voice wavered.

“He wanted me to.” Thor turned his head away. “Loki, he practically asked me to.”

“I thought you couldn’t understand him.”

“He attacked me, in front of the Jotun army!” Thor shouted, anger overflowing. “After spending the entire night with me alone, with a hundred chances to kill me, he waited until I was addressing the Jotuns to raise a dagger he stole against me. It was suicide. I had disarmed him in a second, but it was too late. Everyone had seen, I couldn’t let him live after that.”

Loki stood silently.

“He smiled at me, Loki.” Thor was shaken by a sudden sob. “He smiled. He wanted me to kill him.”

Thor found himself sobbing outwardly. He thought often of Heimdall, but only at night. When he was alone with the stars and pleaded for their forgiveness. The evil act he had committed was made worse by the fact he couldn’t understand it.

“He only wanted you to know.”

“What?”

“That’s why he didn’t write anything down.” Loki started pacing. “Whatever it was he told you, he didn’t want anyone else to know. That’s why he let you write in gibberish, in sounds that only you could possibly decipher after you had learnt an entire new language.”

Loki twisted back to face Thor.

“Laufey was pissed when you killed him.”

It wasn’t a question, but Thor nodded.

“Heimdall knew a secret he was willing to die to preserve. He made sure that Laufey would never be able to torture it out of him. So why tell you?”

Thor shrugged. His tears began to dry.

“I was his enemy.” Thor said. “I should have been the last person he told.”

“And what did he tell you, Thor?” Loki asked desperately. “What did he give his life for you to know?”

“Tejoten prin slives.” Thor breathed the words he had heard on that night, hundreds of years ago.

“What?”

Thor’s eyes had grown large from the tears. Each unshed drop magnifying the ruby red beneath them. Those that had escaped and ran down his cheeks, now hanged on his lips. They fell as he said:

“The Jotun prince lives.”

Chapter Text

“It’s you.”

There had been a candle burning on the small table between them. During their long hours of talk, the wax had been trickling down the side, until the candle was little more than a stub. The flame still burned. Its orange glow was lower now and casted long shadows over their faces. Everything was softened by its flickering touch. It was such a lovely light, but it would fade soon. The candle would have to be changed, but for now is light was gentle and warm and perfect.

“Thor.” Loki spoke again. “It’s you.”

“I know.”

“What are the chances there were two runt giants born at the same time?”

“Loki-”

“That’s why Heimdall told you.”

“I know.”

“And why else would Laufey take you as his ward?”

“Listen to me.”

“And he treats you more like a son than a ward, more like a son than even his two bastards!”

“Loki, please!” Thor raised his voice, interrupting Loki’s outload thinking. The Asgardian turned to look at him.

“Loki, I know.” Thor sighed. “I’ve known for a while.”

“You have?”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

Loki gaped. “Yes. Yes, it does. You’re a prince! You’re Laufey’s heir. You should be overseeing the ruling of the kingdom, not fighting in pointless skirmishes, not risking your life on the battlefield. You should be treated like the royalty you are.”

“So why aren’t I?” Thor snapped. “If you’re so clever, tell me why Laufey hasn’t told me? Why hasn’t he proclaimed me heir? Why does he treat me like a pathetic runt, rather than like his son?”

Loki was silent.

“Well?” Thor’s anger crested and began to fall. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking my frustration out on you.”

“I understand.” Loki smiled sadly. “Families are tough, royal ones even more so.”

Thor returned the sad smile. In many ways he was grateful not to have had to go through the same drama of royal upbringing Loki had been through. The he thought back to the horrors of the battlefield and couldn’t stop the return of the rage.

It was Thor’s turn to ask Loki the question.

“So why did you learn Asgardian?”

Loki blushed.

“Not for the same reasons you did.”

Thor laughed. “So you don’t have a secret Jotun message you are trying to decipher?”

“No!” Loki grinned, then cringed. “I’m afraid my reason seems pretty poor in comparison.”

“Go on. I want to know.”

“Jotun is the only language Odin doesn’t know.”

“So you wanted to be able to do something he couldn’t.” Thor assumed.

 “Partly,” Loki looked up at Thor sheepishly. “But really it was so I could swear and not get a slap around the ear.”

Thor thumped the table, tilted back his head and roared with laughter. Loki found himself laughing too, yet he still couldn’t ignore the question that was burning in his mind. Why did Laufey not reveal Thor’s true parentage? As the laughter slowly died, he asked what he had been thinking all this time.

“Could it be because you are a runt?” Loki suggested, hesitantly.

“Laufey didn’t care his child was born small,” Thor said, knowing full well what Loki meant. “He loved his babe.”

“Well he insults you about being a runt at every chance he gets!” Loki argued. “Are you saying that he can love his runt child, but use his size against him when he has grown up? That doesn’t make sense!”

Thor paused. He hadn’t thought about that.

“Maybe Laufey doesn’t know.”

“Maybe you don’t know Laufey,” Loki said. “And how could he not know? Is it possible for a father to look someone in the eyes and not know their own child?”

The two sat in silence. Thor was too stubborn to admit he was wrong about Laufey and Loki could not think of a way to convince him. He sighed and tried to compromise.

“Have you even spoken to Laufey about this?”

Thor scratched his stubble. “No.”

“You should at least talk to him. Do it tomorrow.” Loki glanced at the almost extinguished candle. “It’s late. I should get to bed.”

That last word suddenly reminded Thor of something important.

“Ah.” He began, not sure how to word what he needed to say. “Speaking of bed. Laufey may have mad one more suggestion I had better tell you about…”

Loki waited.

“He said I should sleep with you…”

“Well.” Loki breathed. “I’d hate to disappoint him.”

…………………………………………………………………

Laufey’s guard was bored. He had been squatting down outside the door to Thor’s room for hours. His legs ached, his eyes drooped, and stomach growled. He was one of the few giants who knew a handful of Asgardians words, almost enough to understand a possible conversation. He had had no such luck. Instead, like the night before, all he had heard was a strange gibberish he could only just tell was Asgardian. As he was about to give up, a sudden silence fell behind the door. Straining to hear what was happening, he pressed his ear closer to the door.

Squeaking. Strange.

The giant listened harder. He could definitely hear squeaking. Not from a mouse, or a door, or rusty armour, but from a bed. The squeaking grew louder and followed a very distinctive, rhythmic pattern.

The guard grinned, stood up and scurried off to tell his king what he had heard.

…………………………………………………………………

“Faster, Thor, faster!”

“I am!” Thor gritted out between his teeth, sweat beading his forehead. “Slow down a little, I don’t want to break the bed.”

“And have all of Jotunheim doubt the mighty Thor’s stamina?” Loki faked a gasp, breathless though he was. “Never!”

Thor grunted and continued at Loki’s quicken pace.

“Now jump harder, or the guard will never hear you!”
Thor sighed and continued jumping on the bed. Loki stood opposite him and was enjoying this way too much.

“You could have at least taken your boots off first, Loki.” Thor complained. “I have to sleep in this tonight.”

“Not according to Laufey, you don’t.” Loki laughed, bouncing. “And can you believe Laufey knew I always put out on the third date?”

“Date?” Thor almost lost his footing on the undulating bed.

“Well that’s what he thinks we’re on, remember?”

Thor faked a laugh that was far too loud. “Of course! That’s what he’s thinking. Date. How silly of him. We would never go on a date. That’s dumb. So dumb. And in my room? I would take you somewhere much nicer! I mean, if we went on a date. Which we wouldn’t because that’s a dumb idea. Really dumb.”

Luckily for Thor, Loki was laughing too much at the exhilaration of jumping on the bed. He couldn’t help smiling at this usually prim prince, giggling at something as simple as jumping on a bed. It was like seeing Loki as a child; the naughty and mischievous child who was never more than a few moments away from chaos. Just when Thor thought he couldn’t fall for Loki anymore than he did, the little giant fell a few feet more.

“We should do this every night!” Loki laughed and, with all his heart, Thor wished the same.

The next day was again spent at the peace talks. They were as fruitful as they had been the day before, though Thor found himself very much distracted. Loki was making eyes at him across the table. How the Asgardian managed to make his green eyes both wide and innocent yet so seductive was beyond Thor’s understanding. The frost giant caught Loki’s look and couldn’t fight the blush. Flustered, he stuttered through a translation but Laufey didn’t seem to mind; he was smiling, knowingly. Odin narrowed his eyes.

Thor reached for the oversized flagon of wine in the centre of the table, knocked it over and wine flooded across the table, soaking all that were sitting there.

“It appears that your translator had another eventful night, King Laufey.” Loki smirked, and the king smiled darkly.

Odin, muttering angrily about his ruined tunic stood up and left. Loki followed, turning to Thor and mouthing in Asgardian: “Ask him now.”

And then Thor was alone with his king.

………………………………………………………………..

Loki walked back with his father in silence. The prince was smiling to himself. He couldn’t help but laugh at the look of horror on Thor’s face when he had commented on Thor’s eventful night. It was incredibly to Loki how someone with such an honest and expressive face could be so good at pretending to flirt. If Loki didn’t know any better, he would of thought Thor’s loving stares and nervous jittering was real. He was still smiling when Odin turned to speak to him.

“I know exactly what’s going on.” Odin growled. “You’ve been sneaking out to see that runt oaf of a giant.”

Loki felt his heart stop. He fought to keep his face even.

“You’ve brought your spies with you from home then, I see.” He spoke calmly. “Who knew rats would be able to survive the snows of Joutenheim?”

“Those rats are more loyal to Asgard than even it’s supposed prince.”

“Being loyal to Asgard and being loyal to you are entirely different things.” Loki snapped. “I am the only Asgardian left who knows this, after your beloved Heimdall died. He wasn’t loyal to you, no matter how much you loved him. Heimdall had honour and courage in his heart, not hate like you. He was loyal to his realm, even before himself.”

“And that’s what got him killed.” Odin barked. “You would be wise, Loki, to speak carefully around me.”

“Or what?” Loki snapped. “You’ll lock me away?”

“Yes. Consider your chamber your prison cell.”

Loki panicked.

“You can’ do that! You need me. I’m your interrupter!”

“Translator.” Odin corrected coldly. “And your replacement will be here by the end of the week. After that, you will be sent back to Asgard and you will never see that runt called Thor again.”

Loki felt sick. The walls of the corridors began to sway as he struggled to find a way to save himself from Odin’s fate.

“You’ll never find anyone as good as me!”

“No, Loki.” Odin turned and looked at his son with sad eyes. “I won’t find anyone as good as you. Your talent was your downfall. You were simply too good. The replacement will not have the same skills at manipulating or mediating, war will come by the end of the month, but at least he won’t bed the enemy.”

What was left of Loki’s hope shattered, leaving him clutching on to a single, jagged fragment.

“I was trying to seduce information out of Thor.” Loki lied.

Odin laughed loudly. “What kind of idiot would believe that?”

“Father, please.” Tears filled green eyes and hope finally died.

“I won’t have my son whoring himself.”

“I’m not.” Loki felt the tears fall. “We haven’t slept together, I swear. I don’t even like him.”

Odin stared at Loki for a while. If there was pity in his eyes, it was distant and detached.

“You’re not as clever as you think you are, Loki.”

They stood outside of Loki’s room. There were two guards ready and waiting. A pair of rune etched cuffs were fastened around his wrists. The door was open for Loki. He gave a finally pleading look to Odin that was meant with an empty face.

“You will stay in this room for your remaining time on this Hel of a realm.” Odin commanded. “Your magic has been sealed off. You can not escape this room. You may only leave to preform your role as a translator where truth charms will be cast upon you. You shall not lie. You shall not leave. You shall never speak to Thor again.”

The doors boomed as the swung shut on Loki.

Chapter Text

They sat for a while, the king and his general. Laufey wrung out his tunic and Thor fidgeted. He knew Loki was right; he had to ask Laufey about that tiny baby that had disappeared all those hundreds of years ago. What he didn’t know was how to begin.

“My king-”

“I must say, Thor, your commitment to these talks is commendable. The tales are true; you are as ruthless in your chambers as you are on the battlefield.”

Thor took a breath and thought of Loki. How would the sly prince approach the topic?

“That is most favourable of you to say, your highness, but I am certain I am not match to how you were in your prime.”

Laufey chuckled. Thor decided to push it further.

“After all, you have fathered three sons, while I have none.”

The laughter stopped but Thor hadn’t noticed. He was headed for a cliff he couldn’t even see.

“And two of your sons have grown into such fine giants. Such a tragedy about the third. I’m sure he too would have grown up magnificently. Even though he was a runt, he would have fought harder and longer than any other giant since the days of Ymir. To be worthy of your pride he would have scaled mountains, tamed ice bears, fought armies of enemies. He would have done anything for his realm and for his king, his father, above all else. He-”

“Thor.”

Thor turned to look at his king. The giant he had served all his life, who he had suffered for both on the battlefield and off. The giant who looked past his supposed weaknesses, who allowed him to prove himself worthy of merit. The giant who had accepted him into his royal house, who had cared for him, and taught him everything he knew. The giant who, even before he had any reason to question his own parentage, had been a father to him.

“It’s not you.”

Laufey’s voice was soft. There was a small, sad smile on his face as he watched Thor with gentle eyes.

“But…”

“But how could there be two runts born at the same time? How could a runt grow to be such a fine warrior unless he had royal blood? How could it not be you?” Laufey sighed. “I thought the same thing. When I heard of a giant runt, fighting his way up through the ranks, I thought my son had returned. I thought that somehow the Asgardian butchers had failed in taking my son away from me. I thought he lived still in Jotunhiem. When I found you, I lost this hope. I came and saw you when you were still a boy, training against giants twice your size and defeating them. I doubt not you have forgotten me as I came in disguise and watched you from afar. You were so young that you had yet to shed your hair as most Jotun do before they reach adulthood. It would appear as if you still haven’t.” Laufey reached out to touch one of Thor’s golden locks. “Must be your runt blood. Your hair shone as golden as it does today. Its shine evaporated any hope I had that you were my child. My son; my beautiful boy who I held so briefly in my hand, who I placed into his cradle without knowing it was the last time I would hold his tiny body, or hear he gentle breathe or feel the way his delicate hands struggled to grasp my fingers, had not been born with golden hair. His little face was shaded by locks as dark as the storm clouds that brought the first snows of this realm.”

Laufey rose from his seat and walked over to the window. He leant on its sill as he continued to speak.

“I loved that child more than I have loved anything. His mother gifted him with her own life, and he cherished that gift with every breath he took, fighting to live against all odds. I loved him more than Jotunheim itself. I would gladly hand my kingdom over to Odin, if it meant I could hold my babe one more time. Perhaps it was this love that drew me towards you. You, Thor, have the same fight in you as he had. If he had not left us, I’m sure my child would have been a match even for you. If not, well then you would have made a fine suitor. That child carved out a weakness in me, a weakness I have been using you to fill. You are not my son, Thor. But you were a child without a family, and I was a father missing a son. It seemed only right to let you into my household, once you had proven yourself worthy. You are not the babe I held to my breast, and so I could not treat you as such. No matter how many Asgardians you slay, or armies you defeat, you will never be able to replace the boy I lost. He is lost forever.”

Thor stared. The amount of emotions swelling in his chest were unbearable. It was as though he had lost a father twice over; the one he thought was his blood, and the one he thought had chosen him to mentor. Thor felt as though he had been nothing more than a cheap substitute for the king’s lost child. Yet he could not find anger within himself. The king struck a too pitiful silhouette, standing in the window with sunken shoulders. It was this pity that moved him to say what he had vowed never to speak.

“The prince might live.”

Laufey didn’t move.

“At Snowcroft, the Asgardian prisoner told me that your son was still alive.”

“I suspect as much.”

“What?”

“They took my child for a reason, I have spent the last centuries trying to figure out why.”
“You knew your son was alive?” Thor gasped. “You said the Asgardians had killed him!”

“I said they had taken him.” Laufey turned back to face Thor. “But it was easier for our people to think of the Asgardians as murders, rather than just kidnappers.”

“So you lied?”

“No exactly-”

“We have been fighting this war for century, after century based on a lie?” Thor felt his voice rise in anger. “Do you know how many battles your people have fought, how many of us have died? How many lives we have taken to preserve our own?”

“Of course!”

“Because I don’t. I have lost count of the battles I have fought, of the friends I have lost, of the lives you have forced me to take. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t fighting. This war started before many of your people had been born, and it continued as more of them died. Entire lifetimes spent in pain and fear and suffering. All for a lie!” Thor stormed over and faced his king. Although he was much shorter, he could feel himself towering over Laufey.

“The war was raging before my son was taken. It would have continued regardless.”

“Your son gave this war meaning! It gave us a reason to fight. I thought of that little child every time to crushed a skull, every time I held the hand of a dying comrade. We weren’t fighting for you, or Jotunhiem, or even ourselves. We were fighting for that babe.”

“Thor…”

“So where is he? Your son? This child you love so much, where is he?” Thor felt rage burning within. “In Asgard I suppose? Odin’s ward? Living in sunlight and gold and luxury as his people avenge his non-existent death? With you too cheap to pay his ransom? Are you refusing just so you can continue this godforsaken war? Or are you too proud to compromise with Odin?”

“I don’t know where he is.”

“Stop lying to me!”

“I am not lying. All I know is that the Asgardians took him. I have never been told what happened to him. It was only today, when you told me, that I found out he was still alive.”

Thor stared at Laufey. He could not tell whether he had grown, or his king was shrunk, but he stood much higher than he had been that morning. Thor still struggled to process everything he had been told. There were too many thoughts swarming his head. There was only one that was clear to him.

“I’m going to find Loki.” He declared, heading for the doors. “If anybody can sort out this mess, it is him. Maybe he knows about a captive frost giant in Asgard. Maybe he can help me negotiated his release in return for peace.”

Thor placed his hand on the door and turned to glare at Laufey.

“I must do what you refused. I will go to Loki and together, we will find a way to save our realms and our people. We will find a way to end all of this.”

Laufey laughed.

“You two are perfect together. Both traitors. He will be no more loyal to you than his is to his realm. Go to him. But do not pretend you are going for anyone but yourself.”

Thor ignored him. He opened the door and strode down the corridor. Laufey’s voice echoed after him.

“You’re in love Thor. And you are a fool!”

Chapter Text

Thor waited in his room. He waited for Loki.

Time ticked by and Thor was already pacing. His mind twisted with everything he had just found out. He needed to understand. He needed to talk it through. He needed Loki. Where was he? They had agreed to meet in Thor’s chamber that night to continue their own, private peace talks. Loki should have arrived over an hour ago. He had never been late before. It wasn’t Loki’s style, and what they were doing was too important. Another hour past and another dozen miles paced across ice floors before Thor’s patience had worn thin. He thought he could wait until the end of time for Loki, apparently, it was closer to two hours and twenty-three minuets.

Thor thundered down the corridor.

The two bastard sons of Laufey, Helblindi and Býleistr, saw their father’s ward coming down one of the stretching ice halls. Never missing a chance to tease the runt, both grinned eagerly. They soon backed away when they saw the angry sparks in Thor’s eyes. It didn’t take Thor long to reach Loki’s chambers, despite them behind on the other side of the palace. In front of the great doors stood two Asgardian guards. There hadn’t guards to Loki’s room before. They grasped their spears tight as Thor approached them.

“Prince Loki has been forbidden to receive visitors.” One of them said, voice shaking.

“By whose orders?” Thor demanded.

“Odin’s.” One of the doors creaked open a few inches. Thor couldn’t see Loki through the gloom within the room, but he knew that voice was well as he knew his own.

“Loki.” He breathed. “What’s happening?”

“Let him in, Ragnar.” Loki said.

“Sire, we can’t. Our orders…”

“Oh please, Bjorn, when have you given a damn about orders?” Loki snapped.

“I thought my days of butchering Asgardian soldiers were behind me, but if you don’t move aside, I will come out of retirement.” Thor growled.

“Go and report to Odin. Your orders were to tell him of any visitors, were they not?” Loki reasoned.

“Well yes…” Ragnar began.

“…And to stop said visitor from entering.” Bjorn finished.

“Well then.” Snarled Thor. “Which of you is going to Odin, and which is staying to stop me?”

Thor raised his hammer high in the air and his red eyes glared at the terrified guards.

“I’ll go!”

“No, me!”

They two guards sprinted down the corridor and Thor stepped into Loki’s room.

It was dark. A single candle spluttered on the desk next to Loki’s bed, barely giving out any light at all. Loki was sat on his covers, his back to Thor.

“Loki?” Thor asked. “What’s going on? Where were you? I have something really important to tell you about Laufey’s lost son. Why didn’t you come and see me?”

“I’m leaving.”

Thor’s heart stopped.

“W- What?”

“Odin’s decision. I’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

Loki sat in silence.

“Please Loki!” Thor begged. “Talk to me.”

“What’s there to say?” Loki’s voice was quiet and flat, defeated. “It was talking that caused this. I should never had stayed with you, that night in tavern. I should never had talked to you.”

“No, Loki. Don’t say that.”

Thor came and sat on Loki’s bed. As much as he wanted to pull Loki into his arms, he kept his distance and sat at the opposite end to Loki.

“I’ve been so stupid.”

“You could never be stupid, Loki. You are incapable.”

“Odin knows. He knows we’ve been talking. He knows we have trying to find peace behind his back. He knows we’ve been mistranslating.”

“And?”

“And!” Loki turned and glared at Thor. “He knows I’m a traitor. He’s sending me back to Asgard, back to sitting pretty at court, back to keeping quiet.”

A sob shook Loki’s voice.

“It’s over Thor.”

“We can still-”

“IT’S OVER!” Loki shouted, tears on his cheeks. “We’ve failed. There’s no chance of peace anymore. Odin and Laufey can return to the war they love so much. Our people will go back to killing and dying for kings who couldn’t care less about them. We’ve lost Thor, and it’s our kin who will pay the price.”

Loki buried his head in his hands, and Thor stared grimly at the far wall. A sudden, unexplainable anger washed over him.

“So, you’re just giving up?”

“Fuck you, Laufeyson.” Loki snarled.

Thor inhaled sharply.

“I’m not his son.”

“Oh, who cares?” Loki snapped.

“You should.” Thor stood, walked over to Loki so he could loom above him. “You should care. But you’ve given up, haven’t you? I don’t know why I expected any different. You’re not a warrior. You haven’t got any fight in you. You don’t know how to keep on battling when things are against you. You are weak, Odinson.”

Thor was suddenly on the ground, a weight pushing him down and a blade pressing on his throat.

“Call me weak again, Laufeyson, and I’ll see if Laufey’s blood really flows in your veins by examining it on the floor.”

“Not… his… son.” Thor choked out. Loki sat on his chest, pinning him to the ground. He had never known Loki could move so fast or thought he would carry such a deadly weapon on him. When he saw the Asgardian’s fiery white eyes, he knew his insult was a mistake. Not because it had gained him a knife at his throat, but because Loki was far from weak.

“Well that is a shame.” Loki smiled menacingly. “Killing Laufey’s son would have gained me so much more favour with Odin than merely killing his general. Still, I’m sure I’ll make my father proud anyway. Maybe this is what it will take to finally have his respect. Maybe this is the way I can ensure victory for my people and eradicate the Jotun scourge once and for all.”

Thor roared and surged upwards, throwing Loki from his body. The Asgardian landed on his feet, crouching low with his knife in front him. Panting, Thor struggled to his feet. Rage sent blood pounding in his ears. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He needed to think.

“Loki, stop.” Thor said firmly. “This isn’t you.”

“How would you know?” Loki growled. “You don’t know me.”

“I know you, Loki.” Thor breathed. “I know you say things you don’t mean because you feel you have to. You act as though all you care about is yourself because you think no one else cares for you. It’s because you have this gift, this intelligence, and people should respect you for it, they should love you for it but instead they dismissed it. You told them truths they didn’t want to hear. They called you a liar. They liked you better when you lied to them. And so that is what you became, the Prince of Lies. Now you lie even to yourself, you think you are this cruel, selfish person. You’re not. I know this. You care. You care so much, for your realm, your people, even your father. They don’t see it, Loki, but I do. I see you. I know you. I… I like you.”

“You like me?” Loki’s dagger lowered as his eyebrow rose.

“Of course.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“What?”

“Tell me about what Laufey told you.”

Thor paused. He knew that Loki was changing the subject, but let it slide.

“He told me I wasn’t his son.”

“Yes Thor, I got that bit. What else?”

“That his son may not be dead.”

“We already knew that.”

“Loki. Let me speak.”

“Sorry.”

“Laufey told me that his son wasn’t killed by the Asgardians, but they took him. They must have taken him back to Asgard and kept him there. If we can find him, maybe we use him to negotiate a peace. We still have a chance! Even if you do have to go back to Asgard, you can search for him and talk to him. The two of you could bring forth a peace that could last for generations. Afterall, you are the Asgardian heir, he’s the Jotun heir, and, well maybe you could…”

“What? Marry him?”

Thor froze.

“W- what?”

“I’m joking.” Loki dropped the knife to the floor and lay back on his bed.

Thor sat next to him.

“It might be worth considering.” Thor said stiffly. “It if was in the best interest of the realms-”

“Thor.” Loki rolled onto his side and watched the frost giant. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
“Why not?” Thor’s heart skipped. “Because you love another?”

Loki laughed. “Because I have spent every second of my life exploring the shadows of Asgard. Every secret passage, every hidden room, and there is no Jotun prince.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s over, Thor.” Loki said once again. This time his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Thor leant backwards until he was lying opposite the Asgardian.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“This short breath of peace will soon be over.” Loki agreed. “War will return to Jotunheim.”

“Forget the war.” Thor growl.

“Thor?”

“I would fight a thousand battles if victory gave moment at your side, or defeat gave me a lifetime in your heart.”

Loki’s eyes widened, almost as if he was in fear.

“Please don’t do this, Thor.”

“I lied,” Thor ignored Loki’s pleas, “When I said I liked you.”

“Stop…”

“I love you, Loki.”

Loki said nothing. He only kept his wide eyes staring at the ceiling.

“Loki.” Thor persisted. “I love you.”

“You can’t say that to me.” Loki’s eyes were still staring upwards, but Thor could see the tears streaming out of them and flowing onto the pillow. “Not now. Not when I’m leaving you, not when I’ll be a cosmos, a world and a war away. You are not that cruel, Thor.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Then be a liar.”

“I can’t. Not to you.”

“We have a week.” Loki said, voice raw. “Not even that. Not even an hour. Odin surely knows you are here, and he’ll be on his way. He’ll guard my door himself. We’ll never be alone together again. All you given us is a few meaningless minuets.”

“That’s an eternity compared to a lifetime of regret.”

Loki turned to look at him. Thor reached to wipe a tear from his cheek, touching Loki for the very first time. His hand lingered on Loki’s face, feeling the soft and Loki leant into his touch. He had touched Asgardians before, but never like this. Only in hate and war and never in tenderness. Thor could feel Loki’s warmth bleeding into his fingers. Their hearts were swelling and breaking all at once. Thor was trapped in this perfect moment, wishing it could last forever.

He barely even noticed Loki’s skin turning blue.

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand.”

Thor watched Loki’s royal blue lips move and form those words, but he couldn’t hear them. He was too busy trying to understand the creature he saw before him. It was Loki. With the sharp cheekbones, dark hair and bright eyes. Only, now those eyes he had spent so long longing to gaze into were different. They were red. And yet, they were as beautiful as ever.

“Thor, your skin… It’s…”

Thor’s hand was still cupping Loki’s face. He had been so captured by those ruby eyes, glowing like embers he hadn’t even noticed. Only when Thor’s own eyes flickered free and landed on his own skin did he realise. He snatched away and clutched it to his chest.

“What is this?” Loki breathed.

There wasn’t an answer Thor could give. He stared down at his hands and struggled to breathe. The one that had been on Loki’s cheek was no longer the blue hue it had always been. Instead it had a ruddy colour to it. The same colour that was quickly bleeding into his other hand. Thor sat up suddenly and began to rub them harshly together, as if thinking he could somehow clear away his hands’ new colour.

“Thor, stop. You’ll hurt yourself!” Loki reached towards Thor. His shriek echoed around the room.

Thor felt the bed buckle, rather than seeing Loki leap to his feet. He was still staring at his hands. He didn’t see Loki stride across the room to the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Nor did he see Loki’s fingertips gently pressing against the blue skin, testing its texture and watching its movements in the strange new reflections. Thor did hear Loki mutter a series of spells under his breath. He was still staring at his hands when he heard Loki’s voice above him.

“What the Hel have you done to me?”

Again, Thor had no answer.

“Did Laufey put you up to this?” Loki demanded, pulling uncomfortably at his high collar. “Did he give you a curse to place me under? Some kind of punishment to get to Odin? To make him regret all his actions on Jotunhiem? Does he mean to punish Odin by making his son one of very monsters he’s been trying to kill all these years? Well?”

Once more, Thor did not answer.

“And why do you look like an Asgardian?” Loki snapped, slicking back sweat-sodden hair. “So you can sneak into Asgard? Pretend to be a guard and hide in the citadel? Bring Asgard down from the inside? Answer me. Thor, talk to me!”

“Loki.” Thor looked up, his eyes were now shining pools, even bluer than the skin he had lost.

“What?”

“I’m cold.”

Loki stared back. “Frost giants don’t get cold.”

“I know.” Thor said.

Loki continued to fidget under his thick leathers.

“You’re too hot.”

“No.”

“Loki, I can see you’re sweating.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Frost giants can’t get cold.” Thor began slowly. “But they can easily overheat.”

“I’m not hot!”

“If I can feel the cold, that means I’m not a frost giant.” Thor only spoke the words softly, but he felt as if they were heavy enough to pull his whole world apart. “And if you’re overheating in the clothes you had been comfortable in then…”

“I’M NOT A FROST GIANT!”

Loki stood over Thor, breathing heavily. He swore, tearing off his leathers, leaving a soft tunic below.

“I can’t be.” Loki murmured, his eyes scanning his newly revealed blue arms without quite seeing them. “I can’t be. I’m not a monster.”

“Monster?” Thor snapped. “Is that what being a Frost Giant is? Is that what I am?”

“What you were.” Loki tore his eyes away from his skin to look at Thor. To gaze at his new expanses of golden skin. As a giant, Thor had been other-worldly. He was not that now. Instead, he was everything Loki had dreamed of being, he was everything Loki had been told he should be and everything Loki was not. Thor was perfection.

“Now you are the perfect Asgardian. Congratulations.”

“I’m not.” Thor began. “My skin may be pink…”

“It’s golden.”

“My skin may be different, but I am not.” Thor stood and walked over to Loki. “We are who we’ve always been. I am still the same giant, and you are the same Asgardian. What we look like doesn’t matter.”

“Easy for you to say!” Loki snarled. “Look at you! Gold skin, gold hair, sapphire eyes, you’re every Asgardian’s pinup model. You’re so good looking, it’s absurd. Clearly when it came to having second skins, you won the lottery. Myself, on the other hand… well, clearly I’m as pathetic as a giant as I am an Asgardian.”

“That’s not true, Loki.”

“Isn’t it?” Loki laughed hollowly. “I’m clearly a runt. Not like you were. At least you were strong, you could fight. I’m not. In neither skin, I’m not strong. I guess you are right Thor, we are still ourselves. Even when I was an Asgardian, apparently, I was a runt all the time.”

“You’re beautiful.” Thor reached out his hand to touch Loki’s.

Loki jumped back.

“Don’t touch me!”

Thor’s heart broke, and Loki saw it.

“I didn’t mean…” Loki sighed. “Touching each other triggered this. We don’t know what will happen if we do it again.”

Thor made a face. “That’s a pain. I really want to touch you.”

A shiver ran down Loki’s spine and his eyes fluttered closed. Thor leaned closer, but Loki ducked out of the way.

“We can’t.” Loki breathed. “I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am.” Thor lamented.

“I’m… I’m not saying no.” Loki said. “Just not now.”

Thor nodded sadly.

They sat silently, sitting as close to each other as they could with their skin just a breath away from each other. They wanted so desperately to touch the other while fearing just what that would mean for their worlds. It was Thor who broke the silence, revealing a truth they had been thinking all along.

“You do realise you’re the lost prince, right?” Thor said. “You’re Laufey’s son.”

“Of course.” Loki answered, red eyes sliding shut. “But this isn’t about who I am.”

Loki turned and stared at Thor.

“It’s about who you are.”

Thor blinked.

“Who I am?”

“Why exactly would there be an exceptionally good-looking Asgardian be doing in this frozen waste land?”

A blush spread across Thor’s face, bright on his new gold skin.

“It really is unfair, you know.” Loki complained. “How are you even more good looking now?”

A soft chuckle came from Thor.

“Honestly the only reason stopping me from throwing myself at you,” Began Loki. “Aside from the whole skin-thing, is that you do look like a young Odin. That’s how Asgardian you…”

Loki trailed off. Somehow his blue skin had grown pale. He stared at Thor in shock.

“You’ve just figured this out, haven’t you?” Thor said knowingly, with a slight hint of pride.

“Uh yeah…” Loki inhaled. “And you’re going to want to pay attention.”

……………………………………………………………………………

And that is how Thor found himself sitting in a different skin, watching a blue Loki writing out his theory upon a magically summoned chalk board. He had drawn out different diagrams with arrows and pictures. Slowly, the truth began to emerge.

“So.” Loki started. “We have a runt giant who’s actually an Asgardian, an Asgardian who’s actually a giant and a missing jotun prince.”

“You’re the prince-”

“Obviously.”

“- something you seem remarkably calm about.”

“If you had Odin for a father you’d understand.” Loki mused. “Oh, and you do.”

“Do what?”

“Have Odin for a father.”

“What?!” Thor’s mouth gaped. “Why would u think that?”

“Well for a start you look like him.”

“Since when?”

“Since you’ve stopped being blue.”

Thor paused. “Loki, if this is some kind of joke, it isn’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke.” Loki sighed. “Look. Babies just don’t appear from nowhere. They’re not brought by winged horses. There’s a process behind them.”

“I do actually know where babies come from.” Thor said.

“Well that saves me from performing a physical demonstration then.”

“Wait. Let’s not be too hasty…”

“So, there must have been a baby at some point. Not even Odin could just rock up with a tiny blue icicle and pretend it was his son. There had to be nine months of baby bumps and name ideas and stuff. And there was because I have indeed read all the news articles about myself, including the ones before I was born. Or I thought it was me, it was really you. What happened to that baby that was in the papers and photos?”

Thor waited.

“Seriously, Thor. I’m asking you. That’s as far as I’ve gotten with this.”

“Well I don’t know!”

“This is you we’re talking about!” Loki said, before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve asked you for your story before, but I think you skipped the beginning. What is you earliest memory?”

Loki only received no answer.

“Thor?”

“The cold.” Thor murmured. “I remember the cold.”

He stared away from Loki, see nothing but feeling a chill that sent shivers through him.

“If you were cold,” Loki said softly, reaching for a blanket and draping it over Thor’s shoulders. “The you must have been in your Asgardian skin.”

“I thought I was cold because I was small.” Thor continued. “I thought I was weak. The more I walked, the warmer I became. So I kept walking and walking, feeling myself feel stronger with every step until…”

“Until?”

“I came to the Jottun barracks.”

Loki frowned. “I don’t understand. How could you just become Jottun?”

“I…”

Sounds of footsteps echoed down the hall. Loki looked at Thor in panic.

“Odin.”

“You need to go.” Loki said wide eyed. “And I need to stop being blue.”

“Loki wait…”

“There’s a portal in my wardrobe I set up before Odin took my magic. You can get out through there.” Loki reached his hand to show Thor the way and caught sight of his skin again. He rubbed at it.

“Loki, stop.” Thor said reaching for him, but not quite touching him. “You need to confront Odin.”

“I can’t. Not now. Not Like this.”

“Yes, like this.” Thor insisted, backing towards the wardrobe. “Have courage. You are stronger than you think.”

Loki stared, his red eyes round with fear. He watched Thor step through the portal.

“Courage!”

Loki heard his door swing open. He turned, clinging on to what Thor had given him.

Courage.

Chapter Text

Loki sat with his back to the door, hunched over, hiding his blue skin from whoever walked through his door. As he feared, it was his father.

“Loki.” Odin growled, flanked by a nervous Bjorn and Ragnar.

“What do you want?” Loki fought to keep his voice even.

“I want to speak to my traitorous son.”

“Well I’m afraid you’re too late. He just left.”
There was a stunned silence that Loki enjoyed just a little too much, before Odin ordered the guards to leave, leaving him alone with the man who was no longer his son.

“If my son is gone,” Odin began slowly. “Then who am I talking to?”

“You tell me.”

Loki turned and faced his father, his blue head held high with his red eyes glinting. He wanted Odin to flinch, to startle, to cower in horror at the sight of the child he had raised to manhood in the guise of his enemy. Instead, Loki only received the same cold, dispassionate stare he had been given his entire life.

“So now you know you are a frost giant.”

“I know I am Laufey’s son!”

Finally, Odin looked slightly surprised.

“You figured that much out, did you?” Odin mused. “But not that much more than that I shouldn’t imagine. All you needed to know was that Laufey’s son was not killed at birth, and I’m sure that runt giant Thor told you that.”

Loki blinked. Did Odin just call Thor, his son, a giant? Did he not know who Thor really was? Or was this just more lies within an avalanche falsehoods Odin was using to obliterate the truth?

“What I don’t understand,” Said Loki carefully, “Is why my skin changed now?”

Odin scoffed. “You are fooling no one, boy. I know why you let that giant into your room. You fancied a goodbye romp before you left this realm. The frosty runt’s disappearance I can presumably attribute to what happened when he got his monstrous hands on you and didn’t like what he found beneath. You were of his race, no longer exotic, no longer a trophy he could boast to his comrades. You are nothing to him now. Don’t worry, the blue will fade. You will regain your Asgardian shell in a few hours. It is for the best, for both realms. Afterall, why would any of your race want someone as small and as delicate as you are? You may be their lost prince, but you will never be anything more than a tragedy to them.”

Loki’s chest ached. Odin was right. Why would the frost giants accept him? Why would anybody care for him? He was small, and weak, and pathet-No. Thor’s voice came back to him. Courage. Odin was not right. He didn’t know about Thor. He didn’t know that he had been within inches of his own son. If he could be wrong about that, he could be wrong about Loki too.

“You’re wrong.” Loki murmured.

Odin laughed.

“I’m not a tragedy.” Loki raised his chin. “I am the rightful heir of Jotunheim. I am the son of a loving father. I am the victim of your lies. But I am not a tragedy.”

Odin stared. Something began to shimmer in his eye. Something more than cold hate, something like sadness.

“You are right, Loki.” Odin said. “You are not the tragedy, just a symptom of it. The real tragedy is the death of my true son.”

“Your son?” Loki feigned shocked. “What happened to him?”

Odin looked away.

“He died. That is all that matters.”

“Did the frost giants kill him?” Loki asked, determined to find answers.

Odin said nothing.

“They must have.” Loki continued. “They must have killed him… or at least led you to believe he was dead, and then you took me. For what? Revenge? No, you would have killed me. For some kind of compensation? Laufey took away your son, so you replaced him? No. It can’t be that. You never treated me as a son. I was a pawn, some piece in whatever twisted game you have been playing. You let Laufey know that his son was still alive, just not who he was. But why? What was the end to this? What did you want?”

“I wanted the same thing you wanted.” Odin answered quietly. “I wanted to end the war.”

Loki stared, utterly speechless.

“My son was killed by the war, not by the giants.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

Odin stared out of Loki’s window, watching as one of Jotunhiem’s storm’s rage.

“It was during what we now think of as the early years of the war. It had already been going on for a century, but none of us ever believed it would carry on as long as it did. I had been at the front line for decades, away from my home and those who I loved. I had married Frigga just days before I left for war, not knowing my son had been conceived. He was born while I was away, growing stronger despite my absence. He was young boy, stubborn yet courageous so his mother’s letters said, when I sent a summons for him. I couldn’t leave my armies, but I wanted to see him. I needed to meet my child, the reason why I kept on fighting, the reason I had took so many lives with my sword, and ended far more with my orders. It was selfish. I should have left him in Asgard. I should have let him live his life in the safety of the palace. But I need to see him. I needed to hold him for the first time, because every day I fought could have been my last and I refused to die never knowing how my arms felt around him. But I will. I will never see him. I will never know the sight of his smile, the sound of his laughter, the feeling of his tiny hand in mine.”

“The closest I was ever to my son was three miles. It was then that the storm hit. We had survived the winds of Jotunheim before, but this storm, it was ungodly. It was as if the very heart of this realm had felt the pain of its people and sort to avenge their suffering. The snow smothered the camp, strangled anyone who ventured out into it. While wind sliced any flicker of heat from your body, the lightning clawed down from the sky and its thundering echoed across the valleys. But it was the mountains who had the final say. It was they who sent the avalanche that swept my only heir out of existence. Only one einherjar escaped the raging wave of ice and rock. He pulled Frigga out of its deadly grasp, barely breathing, before digging through the snow with his bare hands, trying to find my son. He was Frigga’s personal guard, and had been like a father to the child, the only father my son would ever know. Even after years of searching that desolate mountainside, he never found his body. Heimdall was never the same after that.”

“Heimdall?” Loki’s mouth went dry.

“Yes. My son was the reason why he fought so hard in this war. Heimdall was convinced he survived the avalanche somehow, and was determined to find him hidden in a Jotun camp. It was foolish of him. A hundred of Asgard’s finest soldiers died beneath the cascade of snow. What chance did a child have of surviving?”

“So why did he believe it?”

“Frigga convinced him. She had placed a spell of protection over our son. A powerful one, a spell she believed that would have protected him from any harm. Frigga claimed she never felt that spell snap, that it remained in place until her own death. Perhaps even beyond that. Afterall, she placed the same spell on you, and it had remained unchanged until today.”

“Frigga put a spell on me?” Loki felt his heart ache. He had few memories of the woman he had believed was his mother. She died when he was young, and he missed her kind words, and warm smiles.

“A spell that would have allowed you to survive any danger you faced. It is why you appeared Asgardian, it was how you survived the warm climate of our realm, which should have been deadly to you.”

“And how exactly did I end up in Asgard?”

Odin paused; eyes still fixed on the storm.

“My grief was made from rage and bloodlust. I was determined to avenge my son. I gathered my entire army and attacked the citadel. We were too few to hold it, but we broke past the walls, into the city. In one of the rooms of the palace I found a Jotun baby, crying, left alone. It was only later that I found out you were Laufey’s son. Who you were didn’t matter. You were a child of Jotunheim. You were born of the same ice and rock that had torn my son my me, so it was only right I should take a child from this realm. So that it might feel the same pain I had felt.”

“You took me to replace your lost son?”

“No!” Odin growled. “You could never replace him. Even as a boy, he was more of a man than you will ever be. I took you because could. I would have left you to die in the heat of Asgard, if it wasn’t for Frigga. She had some strange fondness of you. She was the one who tried to make you a replacement for our lost son. She even placed the same spell that she had used on our lost boy so that you wouldn’t die in Asgard. It’s that spell you broke today. It was that spell that pulled out the last of her magic… and the last of her life.”

Loki’s heart stopped.

“This realm took my son. I took its child. That child took my wife.”

“No…” Loki gasped. “My mother… Frigga was ill, she was so weak… It couldn’t have been me. It was a disease.”

“You were the disease.” Odin snarled. “You were a parasite, leaching off her magic, draining her of her beauty and power. You still are.”

“What?”

“You didn’t think that your little parlour tricks came from your own blood?” Odin scoffed. “The Jotun are a magicless race. They have neither the elegance nor the skill to wield magic. All your powers, all your talents you took from the woman who raised you… and then you sucked the life from her.”

 “I… I was a child. I didn’t know…”

“You killed her.”

“No!”

Odin finally turned and looked at Loki.

“This wasn’t me.” Loki said. “This has nothing to do with me, or with Thor. It was the war. This damn war. It took me from my home, from my family, from the only person who ever loved me. It was this war that took everything from you. A war you refuse to end!”

“I will end it when this realm is crushed into nothingness.”

“You could stop the death, and the pain, and the loss. You have stopped it when you lost your son, your wife, a thousand years ago. You could stop it today. But you are determined to prevent any attempt of peace. Why?”

“Because it would make it meaningless!” Odin shouted. “Their deaths would mean nothing. This all would have been for nothing. Only in victory, would their sacrifices be worth their costs.”

“And how many more lives will it take?”

“Even if it cost me the breath of every last Asgardian, it would be a cheap price to pay for victory.”

Loki’s eyes widened. “You’re insane!”

“Insane?” Odin laughed. “It is you who is insane. Did you honestly think that these peace talks would work? That you could some how right a thousand years of genocide by releasing some prisoners and trading some onions? No. Not even with your treasonous translations.”

“You knew?” Loki’s breath was shortened by fear. “You knew I was mistranslating?”

“I knew everything. I understood every word you said.” Odin spoke in fluent Jotun.

Cold dread sunk its fangs into Loki’s chest.

“Do you know why I never stopped you?” Odin asked, bearing down on the child who had once seen him as his father. “Do you know why I allowed you to plot, and scheme and lie? Because it didn’t matter. It never mattered. It was never going to work. You were never going to bring an end to this war. Peace was never more than a faraway dream.”

Loki fell to his knees. Thor’s words of courage drifted from his thoughts. Forgotten.

“None of your planning, none of your late-night meetings, meant anything. It was pointless. It was meaningless. Just like this latest revelation. You are the lost Jotun prince. So what? It means nothing. How could it? Not even the giants would be desperate enough to seek kingship from you. You are weak and cowardly. You are not a hero. You are not a king. You are barely a prince. No matter who your father is, you will always be nothing.”

“What about Thor?” Loki murmured.

“What about him? He may be a great warrior and has the potential to be a good king after Laufey, but he cannot stop this. No one can.”

“He loves me.” Loki tried to say, his voice wavered.

“Oh please!” Odin chuckled darkly. “You didn’t really believe that? It was all part of his plan to destroy you. And now he’s knows you are heir to the Jotun throne; all you are is a threat to his claim.”

And with that, Loki was defeated.

“It would be best if you forgot about him.” Odin said, turning to leave. “And, if you wish to live, it would be essential that he forgot you.”

The door creaked open. Odin paused to say one last thing.

“I take it you know what you must do.”

“Yes… My king.”

Loki had found his place.

Chapter Text

Loki knew what he must do.
He sat on the floor of his chamber, working even as the blue bled out of his fingers. He laid out his supplies, bottles and jars filled with ingredients from across the realms and beyond. Around him were spread his magic books, pages open, overlapping, an unbroken circle of knowledge. Loki barely glanced at them. He knew what he was doing. Although he had only made this potion a handful of times before, and had never used it, he knew. Hagsweed, nornroot, dragonshade, to form the base of any magic potion, a basilisk eye, redwyrm scales, Anaheim salts, the sixth toe of Sakaarian squirrel, moonflower, noon flour, a summer’s snowdrop mixed with an April shower, and, of course, just a dash of paprika. It was done. There was something sad about how quickly Loki made the potion. It had taken him an hour to make, but it would take so much more than time away from him.
It was a memory wiping potion.
This was the way things had to be. Loki reminded himself as he poured the potion into a vial. There was no end to the war. They had been foolish to think there was. He may be the heir to the Jotunheim throne, but he would never sit on it. No giant would support his claim, blue skin or not. They wanted strength, brutality, and courage in their king. Loki had none of these things. He could barely hold onto his position as a prince of Asgard. But he would hold on. His identity was all he had, even if it had been a lie. Loki was a prince in Asgard. He would be nothing in Jotunheim. That is why he had not told Odin that he had been sitting across from his son for the last few weeks. That the child had had lost had been found. Thor was everything Loki was not. He would be a great king, greater than Odin could ever have dreamed of.
If Thor was king, what would Loki be? It wasn’t like he would need a translator anymore. No. Loki would be cast aside, left to wander the nine realms with nothing but his name, a name that would fade out of history like ice in the sun. Loki could not let that happen. He knew it was wrong, he knew it was selfish, he knew that the universe would be a better place with Thor as king and him not in it. Fuck the universe. It had never been kind to him. Loki had been the butt of its joke for too long, and he refused to go quietly into the night. If the universe had brought him into existence just to be the backdrop to Thor’s glorious rise to the throne, to be a place holder until the rightful king returned, then the universe had underestimated him. He would remain a prince, he will become a king.
And all it would cost was Thor.
Thor. Oh Thor. Loki loved him. Or he would have, if love had been a luxury he could have afforded. No. Love had no place for Loki. It inconvenienced him, that was all. Thor couldn’t understand that. He followed his heart, he loved without thinking of the consequences. Love would have broken them. Better to forget it then. Forget it all. Go back to before when Asgardians were Asgardian, giants were giants, and the realms made sense. Go back to war.
Loki’s love for Thor was nothing. It was only a tremor in his hand, a tear on his cheek, a hesitation when he reached for the vial’s cork. His fingers brushed something else. A flower. A forget-me-knot. A lowly weed from Midgard, almost worthless except for its name that described its simple magic. Its petals the same blue as the Jotun skin that lingered at Loki’s fingertips. Maybe that was why he never saw stick to his skin, catch on the rim of the vial, and dissolve in the potion within. Or maybe it was because of the tears veiling his eyes. Or maybe, just maybe, Loki had simply chosen not to see it as he seal the vial with the cork.
Loki slipped the vial into his pocket, stood up and headed to his wardrobe, stepping through the portal that would take him to Thor for the last time.

……………………………………………………………………………
Thor was waiting as Thor had always waited for him.
Loki saw his face light up as he entered the room. Thor’s skin was back to its usual blue but still Loki could see the golden glow ripple beneath it, and the blue shine in those red eyes. Thor had always said he had known Loki, and he had. Loki could see it in his eyes. Loki saw and knew he was about to destroy it.
“What happened?” Thor asked as Loki stood in the doorway. He took Loki’s arm, though he was careful to only touch the sleeve of Loki’s recently donned coat, and guided them to sit together on the bed. Those eyes, those knowing eyes, fixed on Loki.
“I spoke with Odin.”
“And?” Thor pushed. “What did you tell him? What did he tell you? Did he tell you why he took you? Or how I became lost on Jotunheim? Did you tell him about us finding out? Does he know I know? Or that you know about me?”
Loki simply stared at Thor.
“Loki.” Thor said. “Does Odin know I’m his son?”
A slow shake of the head.
Thor frowned.
“Why not?” He asked. “Why didn’t you tell him? Is it part of your plan?”
“My plan?”
“Yes.” Thor chuckled lightly. “Your plan to fix everything. To put right the wrongs of our fathers. You do have a plan, right?”
A sad smile spread across Loki’s face. Thor had always thought more of Loki than he deserved.
“Yes. I have a plan.”
Loki reached inside his coat and pulled out the vial. The contents of which were milk white, with just the barest hint of a blue shimmer unnoticed by Loki’s eyes. He pressed it into Thor’s hand, his eyes never leaving that kind, trusting face. The face that loved him, that he was about to lose.
Thor held it gently in his hand, before popping off the cork with his thumb and sniffing it.
“Well it certainly smells nicer than that hangover cure you gave me.” He laughed. His eyes fell on Loki for what seemed like an eternity as he brought the glass vial to his lips. Thor hesitated for just a second, before he drank it in a single gulp.
It was over.
Loki resigned himself to waiting. Either for the questions about his non-existent plan, or for Thor to fell asleep. Fate was no longer in his hands; it had been in the vial that Thor still clung to. Loki startled when he heard him speak.
“You know,” Thor’s voice a low rumble, “you once told me I shouldn’t drink the next vial you handed me.”
Loki could do nothing but break, folding in on himself, crumpling like paper.
“I’m sorry.” He sobbed. “Oh Thor, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Loki.”
“No, it’s not. Hel damn me. Thor, it’s not.”
“It’s alright.”
“You don’t understand Thor. You don’t know what I’ve just done!”
“I know.” Thor lifted Loki’s face to his. “Loki, I know and it’s okay.”
“W-what?” Loki struggled for breath. “How?”
“I knew as soon as you gave me the vial. It’s okay Loki.”
“No!”
“I forgive you.”
“Thor…” Loki wrapped himself around Thor, holding onto him as he lost hold of himself.
“Sssshh.” Thor rocked him slightly. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll just wait here. I’ll be with you until it’s over. You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. You did what you had to do.”
Loki nodded, shaking hot tears onto Thor’s neck.
“Please, my Love.” Thor asked softly. “I only wish to know, was it for Asgard or Jotunheim?”
Loki pulled back and looked at him with confused hazy eyes.
“Loki, we both know that I am a threat to both of the thrones you have a claim to. Either as Odin’s true heir, or as Laufey’s favoured one. I only wish to know which realm I am to die for.”
“Die?” Loki gasped. “You’re not dying!”
“Oh.” Thor said in surprise. “I assumed you… well…”
“You thought I poisoned you so I could secure a throne?!” Loki snarled, and push himself away from Thor. “You think that I could kill you? That I could ever hurt you?”
“Well, I mean it’s a relief to know I’m not going to die. It would be most inconvenient.” Thor joked.
“And you still drank it?” Loki shouted. “You drank what you thought was poison, you were willing to take your own life for…”
“For you Loki.” Thor said. “Anything for you.”
“You’re an idiot.” Loki fell back into Thor’s arms, sobbing once more. “You’re an idiot. How could you let me do this? How could… How…?”
“It’s okay, Loki. I’m here. I will always be here.”
“No, you won’t. You won’t.”
“I’ll never leave you.”
“You’ll forget me.”
“As if I ever could forget someone as incredible as you!” Thor laughed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Loki…”
“Hel damn me.”
“Loki, what was in the vial?”
Loki couldn’t bear to answer.
“The vial, Loki. What did you give me?”
“Something to make you forget me.”
Thor’s eyes widened in panic. He pushed Loki off his lap, forcing his fingers down his throat, attempting to bring back up the potion that had cursed him.
“Thor, stop! It’s too late. It’s over. It’s over. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Thor face twisted with betrayal.
“This is the way things have to be.” Loki cried out. “It has to be this way. I cannot be king of Jotunheim, and I refuse to become a nobody. I am nothing but a prince. Asgard is all I have, and I wouldn’t let even you take it from me.”
“You fool, Loki.” Thor whispered, tears on his cheeks. “We would have ruled together. We would have united both our realms. We would have had peace.”
“It would never work. We have to go back to the way things were. To the way things have to be. I’m sorry. It would have been best if we had never met.”
“Don’t say that.” Thor growled, a sudden tiredness swopped down on him and he struggled to fight it. “Don’t ever say that. I love you. Damn the war, damn the thrones, damn Asgard and Jotunheim. I love you, Loki. That’s all that matters.”
“It’s over Thor.” Loki stroked Thor’s hair softly. “You’ll forget me, and everything thing will be the same again. It’s for the best.”
“And what of you, Loki?” Thor said, desperately trying to pry away the black fingers of forgetfulness. “What do you do now?”
“I take the rest of the potion, and I forget. We go back to being strangers. We go back to where we always meant to be.”
“Don’t take it.”
“I have to”
“No!” Thor gasped, pushing back against the darkness. “Remember me.”
“I can’t.”
“You must.” Thor breathed, as he surrendered to the power of the potion. “Remember that I love you. Remember that you are capable of being loved. Remember what I cannot. Remember for me, for the both of us.”
Thor fell asleep in Loki’s lap, his words echoing in behind Loki’s eyes. He laid Thor on his bed, returning to the wardrobe and stepping through the portal. As he turned to close it forever, he heard Thor say one last thing between sleeping breaths.
“Forget me not.”
Loki poured away the last of the potion.

Chapter Text

Loki regretted his decision the moment he sat once more at the peace table.
Thor was there as Loki knew he would be. He had prepared himself to face this new Thor. This Thor, whose eyes skimmed past him like he was barely there, eyes that no longer lingered on his face, or grew wide when Loki smiled, twinkled when Loki spoke. Loki knew this was what he would face: a stranger in his lover’s skin. What he had not expected was Thor to still be… Thor.
Laufey was as insulting as ever, only this time, Loki was forced to translate every word he said verbatim. He was well aware of his uselessness. Odin spoke Jotun. He had spoken it in Loki’s chamber the day his whole world fell apart. All those years Loki spent learning the language were for nothing. His careful rephrasing to keep the peace between the realms was pointless. Those hours he spent in Thor’s room, watching the fire burn low, talking until the morning broke… wasted. Meanwhile Odin spat the same poison he had been for the past few weeks. Thor still tried his best to minimise the damage with half-truths, euphemisms, and white lies. Loki called him out on every one of them. It was this which hurt him the most. He betrayed Thor every time he opened his mouth. The desperation in Thor’s eyes as he tried to fix the situation, tried to find some way to stop the unavoidable war, tore at Loki’s heart.
If only he had drunk the potion too. It would be impossible to brew another one; for both people to forget each other, they must share the same draft. This did not stop Loki from wishing he had made a different choice, thinking about how easy it would have been. He could be sat here, unfeeling, uncaring as he threw the only person who had dared to love him to the wolves.
A sudden surge of anger swept over him. Thor had made him promise to remember him, why? Was it meant to be a punishment? Was this Thor’s revenge for taking his memories? Could he be so cruel? No. Loki refused to believe it. As he sat across from Thor, he tried his best to not think about the time they had together, or worse, the time they could have had. Loki set his teeth. If he did not have a memory potion, then he would simply choose to forget Thor on his own.
Within the morning, war was once more declared between Asgard and Jotunheim.
……………………………………………………………………………..
Loki packed in a hurry.
There was no need for him to rush as he did. Although the war was soon to begin, the giants would not be so rash as to attack the Asgardians while they were under the protection of the laws of hospitality. Even the other realms, who had refused to engage in the war so far, would not stand for such dishonour. Loki’s haste was a result of his desperation to leave this frozen realm, to go back to golden Asgard where he could waste away his life reading in the great library and wandering the grand gardens. Perhaps there he could forget. He could forget he was the son of the enemy, that he had been abducted from his crib, that he was an impostor. He could forget Thor.
He threw the last of his possessions into his pack, swung it over his shoulder, and shut the door behind him. Keeping his head low, Loki walked swiftly down the frigid corridors. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not realise he had taken a wrong turn. Sighing, Loki began to turn around when he heard a sound. Voices echoed down the corridors. One voice in particular rang out with painful familiarity. Thor.
Loki panicked. Several doors lined the corridors and Loki tried to open each of them as he hurried away from the fast-approaching voices. They were all locked with a magic Loki sensed immediately. Yet, in his desperation he still rattled at the handles. Suddenly he was stumbling forward as a door swung open and he tumbled into a room. He quickly slammed the door shut, pressing his back against it, and exhaling with relief. It was only after he had finally caught his breath that Loki observed what was in the room.
A baby’s cot laid alone under a window of frosted ice.
It swayed slightly, rocked by the draft from the slammed door. Loki’s first instinct was to leave. He had a strong suspicion of where he was, and it terrified him. It was only his greater fear of what waited for him in the corridor that kept him in that room. Loki tried to focus his attentions elsewhere. He looked at the walls by the door, hoping to find something else to stare at.
There was a deep gash plunging through the ice. Loki traced the rough line with his fingers. He frowned. The gash he been made be a sword. Several others marred the ice around it, along with the occasional arrowhead that was embedded deep in the ice. A battle had been fought here. A furious one as the number of gouges in the ice gave testament too. There had been a massacre in a nursery. When he peered closer, could see speckles of blood frozen on the ice.
He turned his eyes back to the crib, feeling his feet be drawn irrepressibly towards it. Loki rested his hands on the top of the frame. It had been carved from ice and glowed with an eerie blue light in the dark room. Soft pillows of snow had been placed inside it with a lopsided, cuddly ice-bear slumped in one corner. It was the mobile, twirling slowly above that caught Loki’s eyes. It too had been carved from ice as clear as glass into the shape of a dragon. Out of its mouth dangled a flurry of snowflakes that shone and sparkled above the empty crib. Loki reached out to touch it, his fingertips shaking as the neared the mobile.
“Stop.”
The voice came from behind, and Loki froze. He knew it instantly. Laufey had been hidden in the shadows of the room, watching Loki.
“What is this place?” He should leave. He should run out into corridor, face Thor if he had to, and leave. Loki could not. Something about the room kept him there.
“You know the answer to that.”
Loki turned to face Laufey. The Jotun King walked closer to him until he too stood at the crib. His red eyes unreadable as he stared down at the pillows below.
“You know this is a nursery.”
“Yes.” Loki gripped the edge of the crib. “But for who?”
“You know that too.”
His heart was beating so hard, Loki could feel it in the throb of his fingers.
“This is the nursery for your son. The prince who is missing.”
“Yes,” Laufey confirmed Loki’s worst fears, “I come here often, when I need to think about the future of my realm.”
“Your realm has not future.” Loki stated bluntly. “The coming war will end it.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. You and Odin, you have the war you wanted. I hope both of you are prepared to pay the price.”

“I have already paid far too much to let that child stealer win.”
Loki laughed.
“What is so funny, Odinson?” Laufey growled. “The loss of my child? Did you not see the gashes in the door? Did you not see how hard he was fought for? How many of my soldiers died to keep Odin’s red hands off him? I fought for my son. I fought and I lost him. Why does Odin still have his son? What did Odin ever do to deserve his? What has Odin ever done for you?”
“You and Odin are identical.” Loki stated bitterly. “You both claim to be in this war for your children, but you are in it for yourselves. Children were just a convenient excuse you hid behind. It had everything you needed; a justification for your unyielding rages, a sad story which you could use to camouflage the thousands of tragedies beneath. You didn’t care about who they were, just what they could have stood for. They were the next generation, born in this war, and they were destined to carry it on. They were your puppets, your pawns, and you never knew who they were. You lost your son as a baby, before he had an identity, a sense of self. You may grieve for him, but you don’t grieve for who he was, only for who he could have been. If he had not become the great warrior, the giant prince, the future king you wanted him to be, then what? Would you still have loved him then? When he was weak, and pathetic, and despised by everyone around him, would you had called him your son then?”
Loki gasped for breath. He hadn’t meant to deliver such a speech, yet he stood firmly by his words. Laufey stared curiously at Loki for a long time before speaking.
“Despised by everyone?” Laufey’s neutral expression broke into a smirk. “I know of at least one who does not despise you.”
Loki blushed, despite the pain at the implication of Thor.
“I can assure you that Thor feels as indifferent to me as I do to you.” Loki replied stiffly. “I discovered his plan to seduce me to gain sway in these peace talks, and I rectified the problem.”
“You tried to take away his memories.”
“I didn’t try.” Loki snapped. “I did. All the time we spent together over the last weeks has been wiped away. He no longer knows who I am. And now you can go back to your slaughtering.”
The iced crib rocked as Loki pushed himself away from it. Frost sparked up from the ground as Loki pivoted on his heels and began to walk away from Laufey.
“You failed.”
Loki stopped. “What?”
“He knows you.”
“Impossible, the potion I gave him would have- ”
“He doesn’t remember you, but I saw the way he was looking at you this morning. Thor knows you, by the Norns, he knows you. You made yourself a stranger to him, and now he loves a stranger.”
“Oh please!” Loki snorted. “You know nothing about Thor.”
“I know him as if he was my own son.”
Loki laughed again. He twisted his head over his shoulder, taking one last look at Laufey; the enemy, the monster, his father, before he spoke. He had never been good at holding his tongue and was unable to keep a final jibe to himself, no matter the risk.
“You wouldn’t know your son if he was right in front of you.”
It was a mistake, Loki realised as soon as he said it. His heart pounded in his chest as he rushed towards the door.
“I have underestimated you, Loki.” Laufey’s voice was quiet but carried in the eerie silence. “Perhaps, in that way, I am similar to Odin and all others who fail to see you for who you are, yourself included. Your wit, your courage, your unwavering loyalty are wasted in Asgard. Odin should not treat you the way he does. He should be proud of you. Of your intelligence, your perseverance, your magic too. Magic. I have always been envious of those who have it. Most of our royal enchanters are found from foreign realms. Magic is not a typical trait for giants, almost unheard of, yet not impossible. You must be exceptionally skilled in the art, if you were able to make it into this room, past the enchanted locks.”
Loki’s hand froze on the handle of the door. He had not used is magic to enter the room.
“This room can only be accessed by myself.” Laufey said. “And the person this room belongs to.”
Loki slammed down the handle and ran from the room.
………………………………………………………………………………………..
The horses were packed and waiting when Loki arrived in the courtyard. Even from a distance, Loki could make out the scowl on Odin’s face. He quickened his pace and kept his head down. The conversation he had just had with Laufey raced through his mind. If Laufey knew who he was, why did he let him go? Was Loki so much of a disappointment that his father, his real father, didn’t want him anymore? Did Loki want that? If he wanted to go back to Asgard, then he must. Then why did he care that Laufey didn’t want him? And if Laufey didn’t want him, why had he said such kind things about Loki?
These questions consumed Loki so completely that he did not see that there was someone blocking his way until he stumbled into them.
“Prince Loki.” Thor. It was Thor. Loki’s heart sank. “My apologise, I did not see you there.”
“It was my own fault.” Loki forced a smile. “I should had been watching where I was going. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
Loki tried to step past Thor, but his former love began to walk next to him.
“Please.” Thor said eagerly. “Allow me to escort you.”
“That’s really not necessary.”
“I insisted.”
“Thor, my horse is literally a dozen feet away.”
“Oh.” Thor’s smile dropped. “Well, perhaps I can help you mount.”
“Very well.” Loki answered before he could stop himself. He could not stand to see Thor look so crestfallen and allowed himself this last little luxury.
“It’s such a shame you are leaving so soon, my prince.” Thor beamed, once more leaping into conversation. “I had hoped we could have spent more time together.”
“What? Why?” Panic entered Loki’s mind. Was Laufey right? Had his potion failed?
“Well… Um.” Thor’s expression was clouded by a sudden confusion. “I’m not sure. I… wish I could have shown you more of my realm. There is so much you have not seen. I would have loved to taken you on a walk upon the Eastern glaciers, perhaps introduced you to some of our local cuisine on a candle-lit table, sampled some wine and then we could spend the night watching the brilliant colours of the aura dance across the night sky, just the two of us…”
“Ah. Well that all sounds… delightful.” Loki’s heart began to race. He couldn’t understand. It was as impossible as it was obvious; Thor was still in love with him.
He had to leave. Now.
Thor bent down and Loki stepped on his out reached hand, swinging his other leg across the saddle. He kept his head high, refusing to look at Thor, refusing to shed the tears building in his eyes. As he adjusted his reins, he felt a pressure on his leg.
“Don’t leave.” Thor breathed, staring up at Loki with wild, desperate eyes as he clung to Loki’s leg.
“Thor!” Loki hissed. “Let go.”
“I can’t.” Tears fell from Thor’s eyes. “I don’t understand. I don’t know anything about you. We are strangers, enemies. We have barely spoken these past weeks, but I know you, Loki. I know you and I can’t bare to lose you. Stay. Stay with me. Or take me with you. We have to be together. I don’t know why, but we need to stay together.”
“Unhand me.” Loki’s voice grew louder in his desperation. Several Asgardian guards suddenly noticed the hand that gripped their Prince’s calf. They quickly drew their swords, and the giants in the courtyard drew theirs too.
Loki kicked his leg hard, and Thor tumbled to the ground. Still, he reached his hand out to Loki, in a final desperate plea as tears continued down his face. Loki turned his head away, spurred his horse and galloped out of the palace courtyard.
He continued at speed, through the city, the ruins, along the pass and into the mountains. Until, finally, he was alone, engulfed in the endless skies of Jotunheim.

Chapter Text

Thor returned to the battlefields of Jotunheim, but he was not the same.

He fought with the same vigour, his hammer raining blow upon blow down on the Asgardian soldiers. Yet, when it came to the final strike, Thor hesitated. He found himself unable to kill the enemy before him. Thor chose to incapacitate them instead with a wound to the leg or tapping the handle of Miljonir against the back of the skull so they lost consciousness. There was a feeling, something he could not explain, when he looked into their wide white eyes. A familiarity, a sense of kinship he could not place. They were so different to him. They had different eyes, different skin, and each one of them wanted to kill him. Even so, Thor was unable to return the sentiment. As he hamstringed an Asgardian Valkyrie, he could feel the suspicious eyes of his comrades on him.

“Put her with the rest of the prisoners.” Thor ordered. “See to her wounds.”

“Why?” One of the Jotun soldiers asked.

“Because I am your general.”

“The prisoner of war camps are full.” Another soldier replied. “We have no room for her, or the other prisoners you took today. We can barely feed our own troops, let alone these Asgardian worms as well.”

“The camps are full?” Thor asked. “Already? We released all our prisoners during the peace talks-”

“Whose dumb idea was that?” This muttered comment was ignored by Thor.

“And we have only been fighting a couple of months. How could they have possibly been filled so soon?”

The giants looked uneasily at each other. They held a great respect for their leader, but his sudden lack of bloodlust was quickly undermining Thor’s authority.

“Your mercy seems to have increased during your short break from the battlefields.”

A Jotun soldier stepped forward, facing off across from Thor. A small circle formed around them, with the Valkyrie between them. The soldier lunged forward, dragging the Asgardian up to her unstable feet, his blue hand twist in her long dreadlocks.

“Let go of me you cur!” She cursed with her voice tight with pain.

“Let her go.” Thor waned lowly.

“There was a time you would have killed this wench without a second thought.” The Jotun said, and others in the growing crowd clambered in agreement. “Prove to us you still are worthy of our loyalty.”

Thor did not reply. He only stared silently at the challenger.

“No?” The Jotun unsheathed his sword and pressed it to the Valkyrie’s neck. “Then perhaps it is time for a new-”

The Jotun’s head reached the ground before he could reach the end of his sentence. Thor’s hammer returned to his hand. He scowled at the rest of his soldiers, his voice rumbling from his chest.

“Anybody else here who has doubts about my bloodlust?” Thor paused to feel the weight of the silence. “No? Then tend to this warrior and take her to my tent.”

“Really? You are aware she is a woman? Usually you prefer…” Thor glared at the Jotun. “Right away sir.”

By the time Thor returned his tent, his order had been heeded. Perched on the edge of his bed was the Valkyrie with her leg bandaged, armour stripped to her lose tunic and an expression of pure hatred. Thor need not have bothered to light any candles as the fire burning behind her eyes would have been bright enough to light the tent.

“Hello.” Thor said in her language.

“Hello?” The Valkyrie hissed. “Hello? Is that the game you’re playing? Save the poor maiden from the big bad giant, tend to her pains, speak softly to her, and then have your way with her? Listen here you Jotun scum, I don’t care what language you try to use on me it’s not going to work. If you so much as lay a dirty blue finger on me, I swear by the nine-”

“I will not touch you.” Thor said. “You are my prisoner, protected under the laws of the nine. You have no cause to fear that from me.”

“Oh, so the rumours are true?”

“What rumours?” Thor frowned.

The warrior raised her eyebrow.

“That it is not usually women that you bring back to your tents.”

Thor looked away.

“I mean…” She continued, gesturing to her trim body. “If you can resist all this then they must be true.”

“Oh.” Thor blushed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So why did you bring me here?” The Valkyrie asked. Although she was far from trusting the Jotun general, she began to relax slightly knowing he did not intend to hurt her. She relaxed even more when Thor poured her a horn of ale.

“I just…” Thor sighed, struggling to find the words to express himself. “I know something about me changed but I don’t know what. It’s like… waking up from a dream where you had a profound and life changing epiphany. It was a realisation of something so important it changes the way you see the world, strikes you at the core and shapes your very self into something new. But then, like a dream, it fades away and no matter how hard you try, how long you spend trying to remember it, its gone. Forever. There is no way to get it back. Even though you do not remember what it was, you still feel the way you felt. It’s like I’m overflowing with emotions that I can’t explain, I can’t justify…”

“I don’t really do emotions.” The Valkyrie took a long swig from her horn.

“But you are a warrior.” Thor pressed on. “You know what it’s like to have a bloodlust, to kill on instinct. I have lost that. I mean, I used to be able to kill Asgardians as easily as swatting flies! Dozens of them barely a thought. Why should I care about the deaths of this imperialistic child-murders?”

The Valkyrie glared at Thor.

“No offense.” Thor hastily added. “But now… I can’t. I can’t kill.”

“You killed that giant earlier.”

“Oh, I can kill Jotuns fine. Not that I do. At least not often. Today was an exception.”

“Uh huh.”

“Even so, it was easy. I found it easier to kill my own soldier, than to kill my enemy.”

“Have you considered,” the Valkyrie began slowly, “giving me more booze. I’m out.”

“I can easily put you with the other prisoners. They are only given water.”

“Ugh fine!” The Valkyrie leaned forward. “Here’s my take. This all started after the peace talks, right? After you spent time around your greatest enemies? Like Odin, who puts ‘dick’ in dictator, and his creepy son. Clearly one of them cursed you.”

“Loki?” Thor’s head shot up. “You’re talking about Loki? Do you know him? Do you know where he is? Has he gone back to Asgard? Is he okay?”

“Whoa.” The Valkyrie said. “Slow down. All I know is that he’s weird and no one likes him.”

“Take care of how you speak.” Thor suddenly growled. “He is you prince. You should respect him.”

“He is your enemy. You should hate him.”

“I could never!”

“Oh right. I forgot how you to were loving it up during the peace talks.”

“What?”

“I saw you in the tavern that night, sharing a drink with Loki. Rumours have it you shared much more as well.”

“I…” Thor frowned. “I only saw him at the peace talks.”

“I saw you at the tavern the night after the talks began. You two sat at a table and drank together.”

“We did?”

“Some of the palace guards said they saw you sneaking to each other’s rooms.”

“What?”

“They heard you two talking all night, and they heard… other things as well.”

Thor stared blankly.

“How do you not know this?” The Valkyrie laughed. “How could you forget bedding the prince of Asgard? That can’t be good for the poor guy’s ego.”

“I slept with Loki?”

“You were in love with him!” The Valkyrie cried. “I saw you help him onto his horse. You were gazing up at him as though he was the first ray of sun after century of storms. You clung onto his legs for Norn’s sake.”

“I didn’t want him to leave.” Murmured Thor.

“You cried, Thor. You literally cried when he left. For an hour. Sobbing in the courtyard for both giants and Asgardians to see. I wouldn’t be surprised of some of your snot is still frozen to the icy cobbles.”

“I love Loki.”

Thor raised his eyes upwards as they glimmered with wonder. Valkyrie’s rolled in her head.

“You don’t even remember him.”

Thor ignored her.

“It makes so much sense now. This is it. This is it was I’ve been trying to remember.”

Thor leapt to his feet, laughing with pure joy. He pulled Valkyrie into a tight embrace, thanking her between out cries of sheer happiness. She barely managed to mumble into his shoulder.

“Hooray. Now about that booze…”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Loki was lounging on a sunbed, reading his favourite book, and occasionally sipping from a cocktail glass. Since returning to Asgard he had been thriving. He spent every day sunning himself in the royal garden, from sunrise to sunset, and always had a book in one hand and a drink in the other. Days like this had once been a rare occurrence for Loki; something he only ever treated himself to after long months of hard work. It was while he was rewarding himself with one of these days after his time in Jotunheim that Loki realised this was when he was truly happy. So, he gave himself another, and another until he had past months just reading. He stuck to fiction. Academic books brought back memories of spending hours in the library, staying up late into the night as he tried to learn new skills which would better himself in the eyes of his father. They had all been a waste. How many years had he given to trying to please Odin when he could have been feeling the golden heat on his face and soft velum under his fingers?

 Loki sighed.

It was now time to focus on himself, he had decided. No more Odin, no more Laufey… no more Thor. It was time he put himself first. His loyalty to his King and realm had brought him nothing put pain. To Hel with them. Loki would do what made him happy. He would read and drink until Ragnarök if it so suited him. And it did. He felt as though he could relax for the first time in months. Nothing mattered to him anymore. He was free and happy and he had forgotten everything that had in Jotunheim. He definitely had forgotten he was the rightful heir to that icy realm, that he had been lied to all his life and he had completely forgotten Thor. Totally. It wasn’t like he spent all night awake thinking about him, wondering where he was, if he had returned to the front lines in Jotunheim, if he was safe, if he had somehow remembered Loki. No.

Loki was happy. He was. He honestly was.

“My prince, Odin has requested your presence at his war council.”

At least he had been before that guard had spoken. Loki groaned internally and then eternally. He had not attended any of Odin’s council since he had returned to Asgard, nor did he plan to go. There had once been a time when he had eagerly gone to every council meeting, believe each was a chance to prove his worth to Odin. He now saw clearly that they were traps set to demonstrate his failures. Loki simply licked his finger, turned a page, and ignored the guard.

 “He did say it was mandatory… and I should use force if necessary.”

Loki slammed his book shut. He brought his drink to his mouth and downed it in a single gulp before dropping it to the floor. Stepping over the broken glass he said:

“Let’s get this over with then.”

 The doors to Odin’s war chamber were grand and gaudy. Loki kicked them and the both swung violently open, smashing against the walls. Those sitting around the table in the centre of the room turned and stared in shock. Loki smiled, stumbled into a sarcastic bow, and wobbled drunkenly across the floor to his seat. It was eleven in the morning and he was hammered. No. Not hammered, he refused to think about hammers ever again. He was wasted. Loki placed his heavy head on the table and smiled against the wood. The beauty of a round table was that everyone could easily see the state he was in without even craning their necks. Wonderful. Of course, there was one who was not looking. Odin sat high above the others on his throne, undermining the concept of having a round table, and his eyes were set on the map before him.

“We have won several skirmishes this past month, particularly to the south where we are gradually closing in on the capital. I have ordered the production of siege weapons in preparation of our attack in the coming months. However, we cannot press forward until we have pushed back the giants in the north. Just yesterday they won a critical victory in the Frost Forest of Icelock, cutting off a valuable source of supplies.”

“Did we suffer heavy casualties?” Tyr, Odin’s general asked.

“Only a few dozen. It seems most were taken captive.”

“Captive?” Tyr frowned. “Why would they waste resources on taking prisoners when they could just kill them?”

“There is a rumour concerning the leader of this band of giants.” Sif began. She had just returned from Jotunheim after leading a legion of Asgard’s finest. “It would appear that their general has lost his appetite for blood.”

“Ha!” Laughed Fandral, a chief strategist. “Then perhaps the mighty Thor has lost his might.”

Loki’s head rose off the table.

“If Laufey’s star general is no longer the killing machine he once was, then perhaps we might finally see an end to this war.”

“You still lost though.”

All heads turned to Loki.

“Who cares if he’s killing Asgardians or not.” Loki said. “Thor still beat you.”

There was silence in the chamber as each member of the war council looked uneasily at each other.

“Nice of you to finally contribute, my son.” Odin said. “It has been a while. However, most of the council do not share your… fondness for Thor.”

“Fondness has nothing to do with it!” Loki snarled, an anger rising within him like a cobra.

Odin snorted.

“Thor is better than you.” Loki spat. “That is all.”

The was a collective intake of breath. None had ever dare insult Odin in such a way, especially front of a war council, and especially not his son.

“Is that what you think?” Odin’s voice was dangerously low.

“It’s what I know.” Loki raised his head defiantly. Maybe it was the alcohol, his grief or perhaps his resolve to no longer care that gave him a sudden courage. “Both on and off the battlefield, he is superior to you in every way.”

“He is a runt whose very parents abandoned him out of shame.” Odin roared. “If he appears to have any talent then it is only because he is surrounded by the lesser beings of the giants. He does not live among the nobility and power of Asgard, but the filth of Jotunheim. A Jotun is no better than an animal. Even this mighty Thor is like an inconsequential insect in comparison to the lowliest of Asgardians. Anyone of Jotun blood is innately monstrous, not matter what skin they hide behind.”

There would have been a time were Odin’s words would have cut Loki to his very soul, but no longer. Loki simply placed his hand behind his head, leant back and smiled.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“If you are as powerful as you claim and if Thor is as weak, then why don’t you prove it?” Loki said.

“How?” Odin eyed Loki suspiciously.

“Face him in battle.” Loki’s smile grew sharper. “He is the only thing standing in your way and Jotunheim. Rather than spend years sitting around the city walls of Jotunheim, killing nothing but time and resources, gather your army and face Thor yourself. What better way is there for you to prove your worth? What would be more glorious then fighting the Jotun’s in one last, decisive battle? That is what you want, is it not? To kill every last Jotun. You do not want peace; you do not want to negotiate with your enemy. You want to eradicate them.”

Odin sat silently. Loki remained in his suspicious gaze but, for once, it was the king who looked away first.

“Well?” He asked, acknowledging his wider audience. “You heard him. You have battle preparations to make.”

Loki and Odin remained seated while the others around the chamber scrambled to gather up papers and maps before scattering out of the room. They wait for the echoing footsteps to fade away before the resumed speaking.

“You will be coming with me.” Odin stated.

“Of course.” Loki sneered. “I would not miss seeing your great victory, father.”

“It does not surprise me that you are planning on simply watching the battle.”

“Of course, I am.” Loki replied. “Afterall, you no longer need me as your translator. I must say, I had not realised you were such a talented scholar when it came to languages.”

“Scholarship? No. I spent my youth training in the ring, not hiding like a coward in the library. No. My ability to speak Jotun comes a greater power than reading.”

Odin reached within his tunic and pulled out a smooth grey stone.

“This is a runestone, marked with the symbol of the Allspeak. It gives the wielder the power to speak and understand any language.”

“So, it’s true then.” Loki said. “You never needed me.”

“I needed you to distract Thor. I had planned on using you to find out his weaknesses. I never expected you to become his greatest.”

Loki had no answer to that.

“Pack your armour.” Odin said, standing up and heading for the door. “You have sat out of this war for too long. It is about time your stained those snow-white hands of yours.”

“You want me to fight?” A bubble of panic began to rise in Loki. “I have never been in a battle before.”

“I know.” Odin pushed open the door, looking back at the child he had once called his son. “Perhaps maybe you and Thor meet again after all. Won’t that be something? I am sure he will remember you.”

Chapter Text

Loki placed his armour on his bed.

A cold wind snatched at the thick flaps of the royal tent, tearing them open and letting a strip of the pale Jotun sun dart inside. The gold details of the breast plate shone even in the weak light. Loki had not polished it before he left Asgard. There had not been the need; it had never seen battle, never been scuffed nor soiled by war. Identical to its owner. All that was about to change. The battle lines had been drawn, the armies gathered and by the same time tomorrow, a victor would be at last decided. Loki had no doubts he would not be there to see the winner.

A dry laugh let his lips. All the time and energy he spent trying to end this war and he will never even know he wins. He no longer cared. The desperation he felt that night in Jotunheim as he brewed the potion the destroyed everything had long since faded. He had surrendered Thor to secure his place on the Asgardian throne. He wanted to fix himself in history, to be someone people looked up to, respected, loved. Loki had been a fool to not realise he already had that with Thor. Thor, who lay just the other side of the ice of no man’s land. He was closer to Loki than he had been in months, yet he could not be any more distant. Loki cursed himself again. Why did he need a throne when he had all he could ever want?

 Now he would die for a realm who never accepted him.

Loki sat on the edge of his bed, crumpling the leather armour, and rested his head in his hands. He did not look up at when he heard the first horn sound. War was often loud and rather uncouth; he had learnt over the last few days. It was only when he saw dozens of soldiers begin to hurry towards the edge of the camp that he slowly raised his head. The commotion outside his tent became louder and Loki sighed, knowing it would be his responsibility to restore order to his troops. He stood up sharply, forced his face into its usual closed expression, and stepped out into the snow.

A crowd had formed at the edge of the haphazard encampment and Loki had to elbow his way to the front. His soldiers backed off slightly when they realised that their prince was amongst them, yet Loki could still feel the heat of their bodies all around him as he gazed across the icy expanse.

A figure, silhouetted by the pale sun, was stumbling across the ice. Behind them lay the grey shadows of the Jotun camp, but the being that crossed the ice was not a giant. Loki’s heart skipped a beat. He knew of at least on non-giant who could be found across the ice…

 No. Thor would never be so foolish to cross no-man’s-land like this, alone, completely vulnerable to the Asgardian army. Even as Loki thought this, he glimpsed the archer to his side notch his bow. They were under orders to shoot any persons crossing between the two camps under the assumption that they were either the enemy or spies, deserters and any other form of traitor. Despite this, Loki hesitated. The figure was clearly not Jotun, and if they were a traitor it was clear they were an awful one. Afterall, they were hardly trying to hide their approach. The whisper of the arrow being drawn back against the wooden bow made Loki panic.

“Stop!”

The archer paused, looking at him questionably.

“Hold your fire.”

“We have orders, my prince.” The archer murmured. “From the Alfather.”

Loki understood. Odin’s orders overruled his own. Even though the soldiers were assigned to his command, they would obey their king before the listened to him.

“Just wait.” Loki breathed deep, calling to himself the magic that fizzled in the air around him. The magic rushed into his body, like water into an empty vessel. He cast a simple spell that heightened his sight, allowing him to see the figure up close. As his eyes sparked with green light, he could see the figure, the woman, as if he stood right in front of her. Recognising her distinctive armour and the tattoo on her arm, he sighed in relief.

“She’s a Valkyrie,” Loki eyes remained on her, “she must be a released prisoner and… she is incredibly intoxicated.”

The Valkyrie stumbled and fell into the snow, using all her coordination to keep the bottle of alcohol she carried in their hands upright and protected. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Would someone please go and fetch her?”

………………………………………………………………………………………..

The Valkyrie took another swig of the fancy wine bottle she had found stored in a cabinet inside the luxurious tent. It was much nicer than what she had found in the Jotun camp. The tent was nicer too. More ornate, with its embraided canopies and plush bed. There was even a thick carpet beneath her feet. She lay her face against it and stroked it, giggling at the softness against her fingertips.

That was how Loki found her: on the floor, laughing and spilling his best wine all over his favourite rug.

“I should have let them shoot you.”

“You wouldn’t have let them shoot me.” The Valkyrie sat, looking up at the prince before her. “Thor said you would make sure I was safe.”

“How would he know,” Loki was careful keep his tone even, “he and I have barely spoken.”

“That’s a lie.”

“You dare-”

“Oh please.” The Valkyrie sighed. “Everyone knows you’re the Prince of Lies. Besides, me and Thor already figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Loki all but snarled, his temper waning.

“Why Thor is in love with you.”

Loki’s heart stopped.

“I mean, not why he is in love with you.” The Valkyrie continued. “I could not think of a mystery more unfathomable then being in love with you. No offence. It’s more about how Thor could be in love with someone he has doesn’t know. Or rather, as I ingeniously deduced, someone he has no memory of. Your big mistake, if you were wondering, is not wiping everyone’s memory. We all saw you together in the tavern that first night. That’s what you messed up.”

“Yes.” Loki agreed quietly. “It seems all my mistakes originated from that night.”

“If it makes you feel better, I do understand why you did it.”

Laugher erupted from Loki’s mouth.

“I highly doubt it.” Loki sniggered bitterly. “And if you did, I really would have to shoot you.”

“Break ups are tough.” The Valkyrie took a deep swallow from her bottle. “You don’t want them to be hurt. Suits everyone so much better just to simply forget it ever happened. Trust me, if I had that power, there are several memories I would purge from my mind.”

“This current moment, perhaps?” Loki rolled his eyes.

“There is something I don’t understand, though.” She mused, ignoring him. “And that is, why would anyone ever want to break up with Thor? I mean, he’s perfect! He’s strong, brave, noble. He can handle his drink almost as well as I can. He’s so kind and caring, like one of those Vanir chocolates that are all hard on the outside but gooey and sweet inside. And those arms? Insane! I’d date him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t for… well y’know… the fact he is-”

“Jotun?”

“Male!” Valkyrie concluded. “Norns, I’m not racist.”

“Oh.”

“That’s not why you broke up? It wasn’t because he was a frost giant, right?”

“Literally the exact opposite.”

“Wait. What?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Loki sighed. “None of this matters. We are still at war. We will fight each other tomorrow. One of us will be dead by the next nightfall.”

“If it doesn’t matter, why didn’t you drink your half of the potion.”

Loki looked down at Valkyrie, still sprawled on the floor, in shock.

“Thor has no memories of you, yet his eyes light up like a Yule night every time your name is mentioned. You basically flinch in pain when I say his. I know pain. I know heartbreak. I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t spare themselves that if they could.”

“He asked me not to.”

The tent fell into a cold silence. Loki gave up any princely pretence he had left and slumped onto his bed. The Valkyrie crawled across the floor and leant against one of the four posts. She offered him the last swallow of wine. Loki declined with a shake of his head. He did not trust his voice to find its way past the lump in his throat.

“That was cruel of him.” The Valkyrie’s voice was soft with sincerity.

“No.” Loki rasped. “Thor isn’t cruel. You’re right, he is perfect. Too perfect for someone like me.”

The Valkyrie, for once, had no retort and Loki found himself pushing through the silence.

“He wanted me to remember. To remember that he loves me, that I could be loved. It was never his love that I doubted, it was my own.”

“You didn’t love him back?”

“No. I love him. Norns be dammed, I love him more than I thought it was possible. It wasn’t the existence of my love I doubted; it was my capacity to deliver it. He deserved more than me. He deserved to be loved like stars love their planets; continuously, with an all-consuming heat. I am nothing but a moon, barely even reflecting his own love back to him. I am not worthy of loving him.”

“And that’s why you broke up with him.”

“It was a little more complicated than that.”

“Dwarf piss!” Valkyrie exclaimed. “You were too scared!”

“Maybe.” Loki swallowed hard. “Maybe it was fear. He thought so highly of me, I couldn’t bare to let him down. There was a way we could have been happy, but I was so scared of failure I guess it was easier not to try at all.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am still your prince.” Loki found himself laughing softly.

“Well I didn’t vote for you.”

“Nobody did? That’s how a monarchy works. And insulting a member of the royal family is a serious crime.”

“I wasn’t insulting you.”

“You called me an idiot.”

“Yeah, but in a good way. You clearly must be an idiot for choosing the easy path, but luckily your such an idiot you messed that up as well.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“You fucked up the potion.”

“I didn’t-”

“Which means you are an idiot. And by being an idiot, you somehow found a way to ensure that Thor still loved your idiotic ass, despite how u idiotically tried to stop him from loving you, idiot.”

“Call me an idiot one more time and I will-”

“There’s still hope. As long as Thor still loves you, there is still hope.”

Valkyrie suddenly began to stumble to her feet. She reached into a pouch around her waist and pulled out a bunch of badly bent flowers. They were blue forget-me-nots.

“Thor, ward of Laufey, high general of the armies of Utgard and the future heir of Jotunhiem humbly request you join him for dinner.”

Loki’s entire world froze.

“Get your gladrags on, your highness. You’ve got a date!”

Chapter Text

Loki was a notorious over-packer. He had packed twenty different daggers, ten different pairs of boots, and six complete sets of armour. He had brought over a third of his books; any volume that recounted any of Asgard’s conquests, anything that might have a strategy that could help him. Loki had packed for war. He most definitely had not packed for a date.

What was he supposed to wear?

After throwing his ceremonial armour, on top of his stealth armour, which lay on top of his light armour, which lay on his bed, Loki pulled out the chair by his dressing table and slumped into it. His mirror reflected his frustrated reflection back at him. Hours had passed since the Valkyrie had told him about the date that was scheduled in mere minuets and he was far from ready. That was, if he ever could be. Since throwing his armoured overcoats away in disgust, Loki was left wearing his soft, green undershirt that hung loosely from his narrow shoulders. He had not even found the patience to tie it closed at the top so it billowed open, framing his sharp collar bones and flowed softly over Loki’s leather leggings. Sighing out his defeat, and vowing to sought out his outfit later, Loki decided to focus on the rest of his appearance. His hair had just about dried. In slow strokes, he began brushing out his curls in preparation for it to be slicked back later. The rhythmic motion caused his mind to wonder.

He thought about Thor. Loki wondered if he too was readying himself in a similar way. As much as he had tried to force his mind away from that last evening he had spent with Thor, of the secrets their touch had revealed, of the chaos it had ushered into their lives, Loki found himself being drawn to books about Jotun culture. He had read of how they sometimes painted their bodies before battle, transferring the swirls and spirals that appeared in snow clouds during the unrelenting winter storms onto their own bodies, believing that it helped them embody the weather they mimicked. Thor would not need such pigments; his storm already captured that brutal beauty. Loki’s eyes fell upon the pot of ink on the corner of the table he sat at. In the cramped tent, this table doubled as both a desk and vanity. The iridescent blue that shimmered slightly in the glass container remined him of the skin he had seen below his current form, of the skin Thor didn’t know was not his own, of the wilted forget-me-nots that were clumsily placed in an old water flask at the base of his mirror. An impulse seized him. An urgent desire to dose himself in ink, so his skin was the same on the surface as he knew it was beneath. Then he could run out into the Asgardian camp, painted like the enemy, painted like his biological self. Perhaps a guard would slay him, perhaps in death his body would revert to it Jotun form, and when the soldiers wash away the ink from his body, they would not know where the pigment ended and his own skin began.

In his loneliest hours, Loki had tried to shift to his Jotun skin. He was unsuccessful. It seemed only contact with Thor could reveal his real skin to the world, only Thor could make him honest. Loki reached for one of his fine paint brushes he sometimes used when illustrating diagrams for new spells, dipped it in the blue ink and brought it up to his eye. He forced his hands to steady as he traced the edges of his eye lids. Once he had finished on his second eye, Loki let the brush slip from his fingers. He peered closer at his eyes, surprised that the colour appeared to make his eyes shine brighter. He noticed, for the first time, that there were flecks of blue in his own irises. Loki did not know if they had always been there, or if they were somehow still reflecting the blue of Thor’s own eyes, even after being bereft of their sight for so many weeks.

Loki then picked up one of the fallen flowers of the forget-me-nots. He raised this to his eye as well, using it to highlight the blue specks that were no bigger than the flower’s tiny petals. Without thought, he tucked it into his hair, then reached for another, trying to see which shade of blue was the closest to he one found in his eyes, to find the flower that reminded he the most of Thor’s. Before long, blue flowers were scattered throughout the soft strands of black hair that, for once, floated lightly around his head, rather than being forced down by oil. Loki leaned back in his chair, amused by his peculiar appearance. It was only then that he noticed the figure standing behind him.

“Very pretty.” Valkyrie said. “Time to go. We’re late already.”

“What?” Loki began to panic. “I’m not ready!”

“You look fine to me.”

“Fine?!” Loki turned back to the mirror. “I’m not dressed, my hair isn’t slicked… I’m wearing blue eye liner for norn’s sake!”

“Like I said, very pretty, now I’ve already found us a horse…”

“I’m not pretty!” Loki snarled.

“Ugh… You’re beautiful then, stunning, gorgeous, whatever. I’m sure Thor will give you all the completements you’re fishing for when we get there.” Valkyrie grabbed Loki’s wrist and began dragging him out the tent. “The gates are closing in less than an hour, so we need to hurry.”

“But…” Loki protested. His bewilderment left him helpless as Valkyrie threw a bedraggled old cape over his head and pulled him up behind her on the horse.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

Loki probably should have been more concerned about how easy it was for Valkyrie to essentially kidnap him. The guards barely spared them a glance as the rode out of the wooden gates of the Asgardian camp and made their way deep into the Jotunheim wilderness. Instead, Loki’s focus remained on his appearance. He tried to dislodge some of the flowers from his hair, only to realise it wasn’t quite as dry as he had first thought, and the forget-me-nots had frozen firmly in place. When he tried to rub away his blue eye liner, he remembered that he has specifically enchanted the ink not to smudge while he wrote which meant that there was no way to wipe it away from his face. The only pleasant surprise for Loki was that he was not cold. He had been able to discard the rotten cape he had been hiding beneath. Despite wearing nothing more than a light linen top, he did not feel the bitter bite of the Jotun air as he travelled over high peaks, and wind-swept valleys. Perhaps there was some benefit to being a Frost Giant.

Valkyrie guided the horse up along a narrow path that twisted its way through sharp spires rock before tugging sharply on the reigns. Loki peered over Valkyrie’s shoulder, irritated by the fact she was taller than him, and inhaled sharply at the sight before him.

Night had fallen since the journey had begun. Somehow, the ice of the glacier still managed to glow slightly in the darkness. The smooth expanse of ice stretched of endlessly between the mountains in one direction, while dropping suddenly in a cliff of glass in the other. From the edge, Loki could see hundreds of miles of the snow-covered world. The only blemish was two separate clusters of orange lights that were separated by only a narrow strip of white. The two armies, in position for tomorrow’s battle. Loki pushed it from his mind. Something that was easy to do as he stepped slowly out onto the ice, his faced turned in wonder to the night sky. Here, away from the fires of the camp, he could see every star in the Jotunheim sky. They were constellations that were unknown to him. They were the stars he was born under.

A voice called to him across the ice.

“You came.”

Loki flinched. His eyes dropped quickly to the ground. Only after a sharp breath of the icy air was he able to look up.

It was Thor. Of course, it was Thor. It always will be Thor.

His torso was bare and a deep red cape was draped over his bare shoulders. Like Loki, he wore plain black leggings but a golden chain hung loosely around his square hips. They clinked slightly in the cold breeze as Thor took a hesitant step forward. He paused, seemingly changed his mind and retreated. He gestured awkwardly to the objects besides him. It was clear they were supposed to be two chairs facing each other, with a table between. Although, in place of a table, was an upturned bucket.

“Sorry about the bucket.” Thor said sheepishly. “I don’t why, but I had to lay it out like. Something… something told me that this was right.”

Loki only nodded with tight lips. He sat stiffly in the closet chair, while Thor sat in the other. Loki kept his eyes firmly on his lap where he had clasped his hands tightly. He did not know whether it was shame, guilt, or nervousness which prevented him from looking at Thor. His body began to shake.

“Oh.” Thor had noticed his shivers. “You must be freezing. Here.”

Loki raised his vison slightly as a red cape gripped in blue fingers was thrusted under his nose. Despite not feeling cold in the slightest, he gingerly accepted the offering. He was careful to keep his hands away from Thor, overly aware of what touching them out do to his skin (and, worse still, his heart) as he took the cape. Thor snatched back his hand far too quickly and his fingertips brushed Loki’s in the process.

“Sorry!” Thor gasped. “I didn’t mean- I’m sorry.”

Loki sucked his lips in tighter, nodding once more. They sat in silence as Loki wrapped himself tightly in the cape. The soundlessness gathered around them, like thunderclouds, until a rumble from Thor broke through.

“You look…”

Loki looked up sharply, drawing the cloak tighter around himself self-consciously. He had hoped Thor wouldn’t embarrass him by commenting on his ridiculous appearance. He didn’t see mockery in those red eyes, he saw awe.

“You look beautiful.” Thor breathed. “I… I have never seen anyone look like you do tonight. You… You almost shine.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Loki’s retort came before he could stop himself. Thor laughed in reply. The sound broke his heart.

“Thor… I… I’m sorry. What I’ve done to you in unforgivable…”

“Loki, stop.” Thor’s voice was quick to interrupt but landed softly. “What has happened, has happened. I am as certain that you did what you thought was best as I am as certain you cannot tell me why.”

A quick nod from Loki was all Thor received before he continued.

“I don’t need to know why. I don’t need to dwell on the past. My only question is if… is if I was ever cruel to you?”

“No. Never.” Loki answered quickly.

“Whatever it was that I did, I am so sorry Loki.”

“You didn’t do anything. This is my fault, all my fault. I’m the one that gave you the memory loss potion, I tricked you into drinking it, I somehow contaminated the elixir with something and messed it up. I was a terrible person in giving it to you and an even worse sorcerer by failing to prepare it properly. I don’t what I did. I have made it before. I have never messed up a potion before. I’m sorry. I don’t know what went wrong. Or how I can fix it.”

“I’m a little lost with it as well.” Thor laughed grimly. “How can I be in love with a total stranger?”

“You… you love me? You can’t. You know almost nothing about me, and the one thing you do know is that I took away your memory. Even if you did l… love me once, you couldn’t possibly now.”

 “And yet, I do.”

“Idiot.”

“You’ve called me that before.” Thor smiled then frown. “It’s strange. I don’t recall you saying it, but yet, I somehow… almost… feel it? It’s like I not remembering with mind, but with my heart?”

“That makes sense.” Loki said. “A memory exists in more than just your mind. You know something has happened in your brain, but you also saw it with your eyes, smelt it with your nose, and so on. A memory exists in every part of you, including your heart. You feel a memory in there as well. And, while its pretty simple clearing a memory from the mind, or eyes, it is harder from the heart. If I had miscalculated any part of the potion, its likely that is that bit that would go wrong.”

“So I’m still feeling what I did before the potion, I just can’t acknowledge the events in my mind, or eyes or nose… that helps me understand this a bit better. Thank you.”

“I’m glad.” This discussion about magic theoretics had eased Loki’s nerves. It reminded him of the discussion he and Thor used to have in Jotunheim, where he could stand on facts and nor drown in emotion. “I still don’t know what I did wrong. The potion should have wiped everything, including your heart…”

Loki’s eyes were drawn suddenly to the small vase on the table. A bunch of the same small blue flowers that lay scattered in his hair had been placed in vessel formed of ice.

“Forget-me-nots?” Loki frowned.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Beautiful, aren’t they? Hard to find, though, since they only grow on Midgard. I had to bribe a couple of Vanir smugglers to steal some for me. It was worth it. They look perfect in your hair like that… Like the first flowers, blooming from the black ashes of a forest fire…”

“Why forget-me-nots?”

“I… I don’t know. It felt right. You don’t like them, do you? I knew it. I should have gone for something Asgardian, not a weed from Midgard. Or, I should have at least picked a golden flower, with green leaves on a black stem. Those are your colours. Not blue. I don’t know why I thought of blue when I thought of you. It’s stupid. So stupid!” Thor dropped his head into his hands.

“No, no. Thor, I love them.” Loki swallowed nervously, worried if somehow Thor remembered seeing his skin turn blue. “I have my own supply of forget-me-nots to use alongside my magic. I’d only ever seen their magical properties. I had never noticed how beautiful they were before you gave me them. Thank you, Thor.”

Thor lifted his head and beamed, stealing Loki’s breath with his wide smile.

“What magical properties do they have?” Thor asked.

“They’re aphrodisiacs.”

Thor’s jaw dropped in shock and Loki laughed at his terrified expression. It was almost as if they were back in Thor’s chambers in a time that seemed eons ago.

“I’m kidding, Thor.” Loki chuckled. “They do what they say. Those Midgardians are a very literal. A forget-me-not makes you forget someone not. They reverse memory loss potions.”

“Reverse them?”

“Thor.” Loki sighed, knowing what was coming.

“So you could use them to undo the potion?”
“I can’t.”

“Why not? What don’t you want me remembering?”

“Thor, stop!”
“Loki, I don’t care. Whatever ever it was you did that you don’t want me know; I don’t care. I’ll forgive you. I love you, Loki. I’ll forgive you for anything!”

“Why are you so desperate to remember?” Loki snapped. “What happened to not dwelling on the past? If you really don’t care, why do you want to me to reverse it at all?”

“Because I can’t remember!” Thor roared, suddenly standing up and knocking his chair to the floor. Loki flinched but remained in his seat. He looked up at Thor fearless eyes.

“Loki… I need to know. Please. I need to remember.”

“Remember what?”

“How I made you fall in love with me.”

Chapter Text

“This was a mistake.”
Loki stood up and turned to leave. Thor jumped over the bucket, hand reaching out for Loki’s but stopping just shy of touching it. The muscles in Loki’s body stiffened at the thought of contact.
“Don’t go. Don’t leave me again.” Thor begged.
“Goodbye Thor.”
“No. NO!” Thor sudden shout echoed off the ice and Loki froze. He had never before heard Thor raise his voice in anger. “You can’t leave. I need you. I need you.”
“Thor…”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Thor snarled. “You broke me. I can’t be a warrior any more. I can’t kill a single Asgardian because I know they are your people and I feel some strange misplaced kinship for them. My soldiers know about this weakness, so there is no doubt that Laufey also knows by now. Even if I live through tomorrow, he will have me executed as a traitor. All I am is a warrior. Without a hammer in my hand, I am nothing. I have nothing. Nothing but you. And now, what? You turn away from me like I’m worthless?”
“No, Thor… I-”
“You get to just destroy my life and then reject me? Why did you come here, Loki? Why? If you don’t want me, then why meet me? Just to apologise, is that it? You get to say a few words, make it so you feel better about yourself, and then leave me as broken as you found me. And all the while, I play along. I forgive, I tell you it’s all going to be okay, even though you won’t even look at me, or touch me. No more. I can’t keep pretending that I’m fine, Loki. Because I’m not. I’m really not okay. I love you. I love you so much, and that why it hurts so badly. We had something special, something magical and you destroyed it. I don’t even have the memories of what we had. Just a void and a longing for what could have been. You made this mess, and you refuse to fix it.”
“I made this mess?” Loki whipped around and it was Thor’s turn to step away. “This is all your fault, Thor. Sure, I made you drink the potion that I messed up making, but who put me in that position? Who put me there? We had a plan. We were going to work together to end the war, to bring peace. It was perfect. It was fool proof. Or so I had thought. Obviously, I hadn’t made preparations for a fool like you. Falling in love, it was your stupid fault! What kind of idiot loves a monster like me? That wasn’t part of the plan. I never gave you permission to love me. When you suggested the idea of “pretending” we were courting, I thought it was uncharacteristically smart of you. It was just a way to get me lower my guard, to get me to trust you, so you could manipulate me. The only trouble is that you ended up buying your own con.”
“Oh, well I’m sorry for being the only person who has ever cared about you.”
“Apology accepted. Goodbye.”
“That’s it, Loki. Run away.”
“Go to Hel Thor!”
Loki turned his back on Thor and stormed off the glacier. When he reached the rocky outcrop, the Valkyrie and the horse were nowhere to be found. Loki cursed under his breath, remembering something she had said about trying to find a local tavern. He had clearly been wrong when he assumed she would prioritise guarding her king over quenching her thirst.
A couple of rocks near Loki’s feet felt the full force of Loki’s wrath and were sent clattering down the rugged path. Thor stopped in his pursuit of Loki, watching him from afar. Loki sat on a ledge in the black stones and stared out across the night. The campfires from the two armies were still burning and gave off orange shadows arching through the darkness. From this distance, Loki could not tell which belong to the Asgardians, and which the Jotuns. His eyes were then drawn away from the light and to the black void between the two. Somehow that short distance of pitch was darker than the rest of the night.
“I’m going to die tomorrow.”
The night was deathly quiet.
“This is my last night, and I am in a strange realm, under strange stars.” Loki continued. “It sounds odd, but I think I prefer this, dying here instead of Asgard. There’s a calm here. A stillness. A peace. Despite all the violence, and the bloodshed that has happened over the centuries, this realm seems to have no memory of it. These mountains, this glacier, they were here millions of years before this war started and they still be here in a million years later. It’s a realm that forgets, a realm that forgives. There will be a battle tomorrow. Thousands will die. Those who don’t will be haunted by the horrors of what they see for the rest of their lives, but the realm will forget. A single snowfall is all it will take to bury the bodies. In a few months, a stranger could be walking over my frozen remains and not even know it. Not like in Asgard. No. They have to memorialize everything. The would seal my bones in some garish vault. Wedge my tomb in between some other members of the royal family we are supposed to idealized because they were born inside a palace and died violently. Everything in Asgard in made of gold, carved in stone. My name would be stretched on forever, a pointless titbit of trivia, not even allowed to fade out the mouths of those who never knew me. Don’t entomb me in stone; memorialise me in ice. Let me melt away. Let me become the rivers and the rain. Let change into something new. Something better.”
The crunching of snow under Thor’s boots did not turn Loki’s head. As Thor perched near to Loki, his eyes focused on him while Loki’s distance gaze was never broken.
“You want to be forgotten?” Thor asked softly.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“I forgot you for a while.” Thor said. “It was horrible. I want to remember you, Loki, always. I think being forgotten is one of my biggest fears. If I am forgotten, then it makes everything I’ve fought for meaningless. Being remembered is the only way we can talk to those who come after us. Maybe if we are remembered in the future, then the mistakes we made will not be repeated? If they remember our suffering, then maybe they won’t have to suffer themselves?”
“That’s a nice sentiment Thor.” Loki sighed, finally turning to look at him. “But we never learn anything. History is just an endless cycle. Our attempts to change that are futile. Dying tomorrow will mean nothing.”
“You won’t die.”
Loki snorted with dry laughter.
“Thor, I’ve never fought in a battle before. I’ve only ever held a sword in a training ring against soldiers who would have been executed if they ever actually landed a hit on me. I wasn’t even allowed to learn any combat magic. I studied what I could in secret, but I’ve never practiced it. It’s like sending out a fox to take down a pack of hounds. The fox is as good as dead.”
“Unless it can outthink the hounds.” Thor insisted. “Or falls in love with one of the hounds who then helps to defend the fox from all the other hounds so that they can run off and live happily in the woods forever.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a Midgardian tale with a similar plot to that.”
“I’ll protect you, Loki.” Thor said. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
“We’re fighting on opposite sides, Thor. That’s kind of the whole problem.”
“I don’t care. I’ll find you on the battlefield. I’ll fight off anyone who tries to hurt you. I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Kill your own men?”
Thor hesitated, before answering grimly. “If it comes to that. I’ve done it before.”
“Don’t be stupid. I would never ask you to turn you against your own people.”
“What choice do I have?” Thor said.
“We could run away.” Loki’s voice fell flat, unable to convince himself of his own fantasy. “We could go to Midgard, grow a whole garden of forget-me-nots, live our lives in peace.”
“Peace?” Thor laughed. “Peace on Midgard? They’ve been at war longer than we have just amongst themselves. How tolerant do you think they would be of the races of other worlds if they can not live in harmony with those of their own?”
There was no answer to that question and the two lost lovers stared out at the night which could well be their last. The campfires below were slowly dying out, faint flame by flame. From this distance, the opposing armies seemed only inches apart, though their cultures were separated by more than distance. As the fading fires gave the illusion that those below were moving further apart, Loki gently removed the distance between him and Thor, leaning lightly against a broad shoulder. Only his thin tunic remained between him and his love, only the tunic kept the truth from being revealed.
“I just…” Began Thor, struggling to find the words in either of his tongues. “I just wish that they could understand each other like we did… like we do. If only they could sit and talk, learn about each other’s lives, their differences and similarities. It is easy to hate what you don’t know, but how could you raise a weapon against someone whose hope and fears mirror your own? If only they could just talk…”
Thor’s voice trailed off into the silent night. He continued to stare outwards, watching as the stars lit up the frozen plane below much brighter than the dwindling campfires. He was unaware of Loki’s racing mind next to him, until the subtle weight was lifted from his shoulder. All it took was a quick glance at Loki’s slight frown for Thor to realise what was happening.
“You’ve got a plan, haven’t you?”
“Not yet… Just an inkling of one.”
“I knew you would think of something.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This could end up killing both of us.”
“Don’t all your plans?”
“No! Well, only half of them.”
Thor smiled fondly at Loki. “What can I do to help?”
“I need something from you.”
“What do you need?”
“Your trust.”
 

Chapter Text

It was the silence that terrified Thor the most.
A thousand bodies stood behind him, yet all he heard was the occasional creak of leather and the blue banners of Jotunhiem snapping in the wind. No one spoke as they stood in their ranks. They had already shared their final sentiments as they left the camp this morning, beginning the slow march to the battlefield, not knowing if they would ever be returning. Any jokes, stories of past glories, words of hope or comfort had been spoken in the dim glow of the campfire the night before. The same night Thor had spent in the company of Loki, high above the battlefield. That night felt further away than any distance could express.
Thor hated the wait, hated the unyielding pressure of the silence. With utter honesty, he could say he did not feel fear on fighting in a battle. If only because, Thor felt nothing at all during those endless hours of slaughter and survival. It was only the deafening silence which made his heart race and fingers twitch. As soon as his hand was on his hammer and the enemy was within range of his throw, any fear evaporated. Battles were easy. There were only two demands; kill and don’t be killed. What could be simpler? It was off the battlefield where he struggled. He had always been in awe at how easily Loki could navigate every political system. He seemed to know instinctively which course of action would be the correct one to take, while Thor spent hours fretting over each detail, worrying about any outcome his choices would bring. Maybe that was why Thor felt the fear so keenly this morning. He had placed his future, his soldiers’ future and the future of his entire world in Loki’s palm. Now his must wait and hope that Loki’s unspoken plan would somehow save them all.

Loki wondered whether it was possible to be fashionably late to a battle. Having never fought in one before, he was rather hazy on some of the etiquette. Sure, the terms had been that they would fight at dawn, but he had always assumed that was more of a loose type of arrangement. Afterall dawn was so subjective. The sun was so slow to rise above the frozen lands of Jotunhiem. It could take hours before there was enough light to see well enough to do anything, including, for example, steal a valuable artifact from the Alfather’s private quarters. This was the reason why Loki was late to meet Odin. Not that he could tell him.
“… Surprised that you even showed up at all.”
Loki slouched in his saddle as he rode in the shadow of his former father who high upon his eight-legged war horse. Not even the panels of steel and stiff leather that made up his armour could keep Loki’s shoulders from slumping as he listened to Odin berate his courage. It wasn’t the best start to the day he on which he was likely to die.
“I had assumed you had deserted last night when you left the camp. Luckily that Valkyrie was there remind you of your duty and bring you back to your place.”
Loki rolled his eyes. It was he who just about managed to pulled a semi-conscious Valkyrie onto the horse he had tracked down at an abandoned tavern. It was a miracle he even managed to make it back to camp at all.
“My place,” Loki said dryly, “Where was that again, father?”
“For now, it is behind me.” Odin reined he horse sharply in front of Loki’s as they rode through the narrow path left for them by the rows of Asgardian soldiers. “Soon, I suspect your place will be among the Asgardian’s honoured dead.”

“You believe I will find myself in the halls of Valhalla?” Loki murmured in surprise. The last of inch of him that still craved Odin’s approval flutter upwards in his chest.
“All who die in battle will find a seat waiting for them in the Great Hall. No matter how underserving.” Odin chuckled darkly to himself. “Though I do not know why you long for a glorious death. Valhalla is for warriors, for those who are courageous and good. You, Loki, would belong even less in the land of the dead than you do in the land of the living.”

With those words, Loki felt that final desperate desire for Odin’s affection melt away. All those years he had spent trying to mould himself into the perfect son, the centuries he had devoted to just to hear one kind word from the man who was once his father had now ended. He was free.
“Well in that case Odin,” Loki sneered, kicking his horse level with the kings, “I will be sure to seek out the souls of your beloved Queen and true son so that I can tell them of the monster you have become. They will hear such tales of your cruelty, your callousness, your blatant unworthiness, that they will barricade the doors of Valhalla shut themselves. So that even in death, you will never be united with the only beings you were ever able to love.”
A sharp tug on the reins veered Loki’s steed in front of Odin’s. Loki rode in front of Odin, his head held high and, for the first time, the snarled curses of the old man were nothing more than empty words in the frigid Jotunheim winds.

Thor too had ridden out into the middle of the battleground, flanked by a handful of other Jotun generals. He tapped his fingers fitfully against the pummel of his hammer. Battle nerves were nothing new to him, yet this battle was different. He had never had so much to lose, never so much to gain. Loki had promised him that he had found a way to finally bring peace between the two waring realms. Loki had not elaborated on how this would happen. While Thor trusted him with every atom of his being, he could not fend of the doubt that crawled in his gut. Loki had never been in a battle before. His only experience of the clash between armies had been from the books read from the comfort of a golden library. Thor could no longer focus solely on the preservation of his own life; he must protect Loki’s as well… Even at the cost of his own.
If Loki did not know much about the experience of battle itself, he certainly knew how to dress for it. His dark leathers made his skin almost luminous under the pale Jotun sun, with the green designs twinning with his eyes. A small circlet of gold haloed his forehead and rose into two elegant horns. Thor wanted to laugh at the drama of such an article of clothing, but Loki’s ethereal appearance had taken his breath away. Loki looked as sharp as any weapon on the battlefield, and Thor knew he was immeasurably more dangerous.
A weak smile ghosted Thor’s lips as Loki halted his horse. Loki did not return it. Instead, his face remained stoic, almost peaceful, with the corner of his lips hinting at a smirk. He locked eyes with Thor, unblinking even as Odin rode next to him. There was something different about his expression. Loki wore a face Thor had never seen before. One of callous confidence, a devious determination, and it sent Thor’s heart racing.
“I, Odin Allfather, King of Asgard, hereby demand your surrender. You and your soldiers are to disperse and grant my army safe passage to the citydale. Once there, you will surrender Laufey into my own custody so that he may face Asgardian justice for the crimes he has committed against myself and my people. Do you accept?”
“We do not accept.” Thor replied, trying not to roll his eyes. He had participated in numerous of these talks before; both sides offering the other a final chance of surrender, while knowing that it will not be accepted, just so that the victor could claim they did everything in their power to reach a peaceful resolution.
“You, Odin Babe-slayer, stand unjustly upon Jotun ice. Your tyrannical invasion and senseless slaughter of the Jotun people shall cease from this day. Those who have been murdered as a result of your actions shall be avenged. Jotunheim will be free once more.”
“Surrender Laufey, and Jotunheim is yours. His absence from the battlefield does not go unnoticed as it is a true statement of his cowardice.”
“I shall not betray my King. Especially not for murder such as yourself.”
“Murderer? Your hammer is far from clean from innocent blood Laufeysward!”
“Enough.”
All heads snapped towards Loki. The single word of Jotun cut through the cold air. It was not his place to speak, being leader of neither army. Yet, soft though he had spoken, his voice cut sharply through the air.
“Aren’t any of you tired of talking?” Loki spat. “All you do is talk and talk. You recite your mindless rhetoric as if you are deaf to your own words. By the Norns, do you not get sick of your own voices? You talk about war, you talk about peace, meanwhile your people are starving in their homes, bleeding on your battlefields. Do you honestly think they care? You bicker about who murdered who, which realm threw the first stone, who has committed the worse atrocity, like this is all some kind of game. Your people don’t care. Death is death to them. You may try to tell them that their sacrifices are noble, that they fight on the side of good against the evil outsiders, but what comfort is that to a soldier taking his last breaths? To a child, waiting for their parent to never return to them? You demand that they die for you, and die they do, but the very least you can do is stop using their bodies as punctuation for your endless speeches. Just shut up. All of you, shut up, and let us all just die in peace.”
The gathering stared at Loki in shock. Thor could not help but murmur his name softly across the distance between them. The sudden speech in the language of Thor’s Jotun guards had even shaken their typically frozen expressions. Moments passed until Odin, finally broke the silence with an ugly laugh.
“Well then Loki, man of the people, what do you suggested we do instead?”
“We fight.”
“Well obviously,” Odin snorted, “That’s why it is luck we remember to bring along our armies. They are ever so useful for fighting.”
“No.” Loki said. “No armies. No more hiding behind the lives of others. We fight for ourselves, by ourselves. It ends here. One final duel to end this endless war. To the victor, the spoils. And the spoils shall be Jotunheim herself.”
“Loki, no!” Odin choked. “You can’t mean to…”
“I, Loki of Asgard, hereby challenge Thor of Jotunheim to single combat.”
 

Chapter Text

Loki was sure whether he should be offended or flattered by the almost universal look of disbelief. His plan was intended to catch the Jotuns off guard as much as it was supposed to surprise his former father. However, he had hoped that this would have led to shared gazes of begrudging respect, rather than looks of astonishment, as though he had suddenly sprouted a Bilsnipe horn from his forehead. The only expression which wasn’t of utter shock was Thor’s.
The general of Jotunhiem was the picture of despair.
“Loki, no.” Thor breathed.
“Why not?” Loki bared his teeth. “Do you not have the courage to face me alone? Does the weapon of Jotunhiem have to hide behind his army, like an infant behind his mother’s skirt?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Thor quickly switched to Asgardian in an attempt to reason with Loki.
“Why do you abandon your native tongue so readily, butcherer? Are you readying yourself for when Asgard has dominion over your realm? Preparing to become a servant to the Eternal Realm? You needn’t trouble yourself. I shall not allow you live. I shall not allow you to live long enough to beg for mercy on your people in any language.”
Odin tried to push himself in front of Loki.
“You must forgive this outburst from my son. He clearly does not know what he is saying,” Odin attempted a charming smile, poorly. “It is his first time on a field of battle. I do believe he has become mad from fear.”
“I am not the one who is afraid.” Loki refused to back down.
“No.” Thor’s voice was thick. “Please Loki, don’t do this. I do not wish to fight you.”
“Coward!” Snarled one of Thor’s guards while others hissed their displeasure.
“Loki, stop this!” Thor begged. “Renounce your challenge. There has to be another way…”
“No.” Snapped the giant towering over Thor’s righthand side. “The challenge has been made. The
pact has been sworn. The Asgardian trickster must fight to the death. And if our general will not pick up his gauntlet, then any other giant may take his place. One who does not share his weakness for Asgardians.”
“No!” Thor panicked. “No. I accept. I accept the challenge.”
“Well then.” Loki clapped his hands together. “This has been a very productive parle. Much more effective than all those peace talks. Trust me Thor, I think you made the right decision. Trust me.”

………………………………………………………………..
A circle of snow was cleared in the centre of the battlefield to hastily form the sparring ring. Blades of white Jotunhiem grass, uniquely evolved to survive under the ice for centuries, sparkled in the sun for the first time. Loki kept his eyes focused on the sporadic sparks of light. He had taken a risk. Calculated, perhaps, but everything depended on Thor.
Thor glared at Loki from across the ring. This had not been the plan he had expected from Loki. He had assumed Loki would find a loophole, some long lost secret, that would bring peace to both their realms. And, if that hadn’t worked, Thor had spent last night devising his own plan. Staring at the weathered pelts which formed the roof of his tent, thinking of all the ways he might watch Loki die and all the ways he could stop them. He would find Loki on the battlefield. He would protect him. Even if he had to pull Odin’s black heart still beating from his chest, he would not let Loki die. Of course, he had also planned on winning. Afterall, he was the greatest general in the nine realms, and he was confident he could persuade Laufey to treat Loki fairly once the Asgardian imperialists had been defeated. Asgard would need a King regent and Loki would be the natural choice. Then, perhaps, peace could be cemented through marriage and Thor could finally live the life he had been dreaming of with Loki. Accept, Loki had made this impossible.
Thor would have to choose between his heart and his home.
His decision remained unmade has the horn sounded for the champions to enter the ring. Thor donned his helmet and heaved his hammer off the ground; its weight somehow heavier than it had ever been. Loki had beaten him into the ring, choosing to wear his lighter horned diadem rather than his usual cumbersome helmet. He stood, twitching on the balls of his feet, daggers drawn and ready. Teeth bared in a feral grin; their unyielding white only broken by a dart of pink as Loki licked his lips. He clearly did not share Thor’s tedious trepidation.

The second horn sounded and they began to circle each other.
The two armies had moved forward so that they were only the breadth of the combat ring apart. As the fight commenced, jeers from both sides were slung at the two contenders, although they were not always aimed at the opposite side. Even Thor had now lost his shine amongst his people, but his waning popularity was the last thought on his mind. His only thoughts were for Loki’s safety. That was until a glinting dagger flew inches above his hastily ducked head. His own safety became his second thought.
“Loki, stop!”
A second dagger flew.
“Loki, please! It doesn’t have to be this way! We can find another path, we can end this, live our lives in-“
“Peace?” Loki spat. “Even now you hang onto that childish dream. Peace is a meaningless word. Nothing more than a fairy-tale you told yourself so you could pretend you were something more than a murder.”
“You lie!”
“You are the liar, Thor. You call for peace as if it would not be your very destruction. You think you could live in a world without war? Without a means for you to prove your worthiness? What would you be without an army to lead? Without an enemy to face? Without the blood to spill? Fighting to end this war is like a fish fighting to end the ocean; you would suffocate without it.”
“That’s not true!” Thor tried to swallow his doubt. He flipped his hammer in his hand but still could not bring himself to throw it. Loki had no such qualms, shooting a ball of green magic and sending Thor flying through the air.
“Who are you, Laufeysward, if the fighting were to end? What is a warrior with no war? You expect us to believe that you’ll lay down your hammer and what? Pick up a plough? A quill? Even as a translator, the usefulness of your tongue would soon wear out. You’ll be discarded just like your weapon and abandoned in a long-forgotten armoury, layered in dust instead of blood.”
“Better that,” Thor spoke through gritted teeth, “than to carry on this unending slaughter.”
“Ah of course. I forgot I was talking to the hero of Jotunhiem! Is that it, Thor? Do you think bringing peace would make up for all the lives you’ve taken? Undo all the pain you’ve caused? How many lives would you need to save to equal out the ones you have destroyed? Do you know the number, Thor? Do you even remember how many you have killed?”

It was this final question that broke Thor’s resolve. With a roar, he leapt forward, obliterating the space between them. However, just has his hammer was mere inches from Loki’s head, the prince danced nimbly out of reach. Again, Thor swung, hitting nothing but air. On his third attempt he felt a flash of pain strike down his back. He spun to see Loki behind him, a bloodstained dagger held tight in his hand. Loki had managed to slip under his swinging arm and slice his dagger across the small of Thor’s back.
A surprised yet deafening cheer rose from the Asgardians, clearly as shocked as they were delighted that their champion had drawn the first blood. The following jeers came from both sides of the arena all aimed at Thor. Loki’s feral grin was back has he shook the blood off his weapon. Thor snarled and readied his stance.
“What’s wrong Thor?” Loki cooed in mock concern. “Was I not easy quarry you had been promised? Am I not as weak as you thought?”
“You are not weak, Loki.” Thor spat. “You could kill me with a single spell. What I don’t understand is why you are going through with this cheap charade? Who are you trying to prove yourself to? The father who will never love you or the people who will never follow you?”
The first chink appeared in Loki’s facial armour; a flicker of doubt shadowed his face.
“Maybe I just wanted to humiliate you. To show every Asgardian and Jotun that you are not the hero you claim to be, that you are still that scared little boy shivering in the cold.”
Thor threw himself at Loki once again. Loki once more tried to dodge the attack but was too slow. Thor caught Loki by one of the short horns on his diadem had hoisted him off the ground, slamming him against the wall of the arena. Loki wriggled in his grip, hands desperately trying to prise open Thor’s fingers, legs kicking like a snared rabbit’s. It was hopeless. Loki was at Thor’s complete and depleting mercy. He raised the hammer for the final blow, unable to take his eyes away from Loki’s wide stare.
He hesitated.
A roar of impatience rose from the Jotuns. The same giants who would have once followed Thor to their deaths in defence of their homeland, now openly mocked his wavering valour. His legacy had begun to erode with every Asgardian he allowed to live. If he did not kill the one before him, he would be forever branded a traitor by the land he loved. Now he had the chance to be its greatest hero. He could end the war, save thousands of lives, both Jotun and Asgardian, with a single blow.
Thor lifted his hammer again, gritting his teeth as he stared down at Loki. He could feel as Loki’s body suddenly tensed then went slack once more, green eyes slowly sliding shut as his breath evened. Loki had accepted his fate. It appeared everyone had, with the exception of Thor. He tried to push away the voice inside his head screaming at him to stop. The voice pleading with him to remember. This was Loki shivering in his grasp. Loki. A name that once had meant everything to him, even when he did not know the man it belonged to. The same man, who still remained a stranger to Thor. Instead, Thor strained to hear the other voice inside his head. The one that told him he knew exactly who Loki was. His reputation as a coward was known throughout the nine realms. Even a child living at the far edge of the black sands of Svartalfheim knew that the prince of Asgard was a lying snake, who would betray anyone for his own gain. And had Thor not experienced this betrayal himself? Loki openly admitted to wiping his memory, perhaps his love for Loki was nothing more than a spell too?
Afterall, everything was Loki’s fault.
Loki had wiped his memory. Loki has messed up the potion, leaving Thor in love with a stranger. Loki had challenged him to single combat. It is like he wants this, the dark voice in Thor’s head persisted. Maybe it is his way of repenting, his atonement for all the pain he has caused you. Thor swallowed against the lump in his throat. With his death, the voice continued, he can finally gift you the peace you have always wanted.
“Do it, Thor.” Loki whispered, seeming to confirm Thor’s darkest thoughts. “Strike me.”
Thor roared, swing the hammer in an unyielding arch. It slammed into the wall just inches from Loki’s head.
“I can’t. I can’t. Loki, please. Not like this. Not like this.”
Loki looked up at Thor, seeing those bright eyes shining with tears, their foreheads just almost touching.
Anger overcame him. With a snarl Loki twisted hard in Thor’s grip. The golden horn in Thor’s fist snapped and Loki was freed. Loki didn’t even bother summoning his weapons, instead choosing to kick Thor in the back, reopening his earlier wound. Thor winced as he turned to face Loki once more. What he saw before him was an entirely different creature to the one he had been fighting just moments before.
“Why wouldn’t you do it, Thor?” Tear were streaming down Loki’s face, running over the angry contours of his face. “Are you that w.. weak? Are y..you that path..thetic?”
“Loki…”
“No. No!” Loki shouted, wiping his face. “One strike, Thor. One single strike to end everything and you can’t even do that?”
“I love you, Loki. Damn the Norns! I love you.”
There. He had said it. Out loud. For every Asgardian and Jotun soldier to hear. For once, both armies fell silent. The only sounds were the shuddering breaths of the two champions.
Loki fell to his knees at Thor’s feet.
“I know Thor. I know.” He whispered.
“Then I can’t… Loki, you can’t ask me to.”
“I would not ask this of you if I didn’t know that you loved me. There is no one else I would trust to do this, no one else I would ask to... There is no one else, Thor. You. Only you.”
A sob shook through Thor’s body. He could no longer fight the tears has he shook his head in desperate denial.
“Thor,” Loki raised his head, gifting Thor a small smile and a final look at those deep green eyes shining with unshed tears. “Trust me.”
Thor raised the hammer. Loki bowed his head. At the nape of his exposed neck, Thor glimpsed a single forget-me-not, missed when Loki combed his hair that morning, a spec of blue on an ocean of black. Thor breathed in. He closed his eyes until there was nothing but the sound of Loki’s gentle voice.
“I love you, Thor.”
The hammer swung down. This time it did not miss its target. It connected with a thunderous crack, the sound of a stone breaking, and a sudden burst of energy that threw Thor backwards into frozen ground of the arena.
He desperately scrambled back to his feet, looking back to the centre where Loki was still kneeling. The trickster god slowly pulled his hands away from the back of his neck, dropping two halves of a stone to the ground. Carefully, Loki too stood up. He placed a hand on his hip and looked around at the stupefied crowd.
“Well,” Loki said, “that should have done it.”
“Done what?” Thor paced quickly over to Loki. “What was that? What have you done?”
“A runestone.” Loki toed one of the broken pieces with his boot. “Enchanted with the Allspeak, amplified by your hammer so now everyone within a thousand miles can now understand each other.”
“But why?”
“Who cares why?” A Jotun soldier called out from the crowd. “Kill the serpent or allow us to slaughter the Asgardian swine.”
“Swine?” An Asgardian replied. “We will butcher every last one of you Jotun dogs. And keep our language out of your filthy Frost Giant mouth.”
“Your language?” A different Jotun spat. “It is the beautiful tongue of Jotunhiem your disgusting Aseir maw desegregates!”
“Silence, Ice Pigs.”
“Make me, baby killer!”
A roar of outrage erupted from both sides. Jeers once more exchanged, but aimed at and understood by the opposing armies instead of the Thor and Loki.
“This was the plan?” Thor scoffed. “What? So they can exchange insults as well as blows? That will be productive.”
“It so both sides will understand us when we tell them the truth; so there can be no doubt, no chance of it being lost in translation.” Loki looked expectantly up at Thor.
“What truth?”
“This truth.”
Loki surged upwards, planting his mouth firmly on Thor’s. He froze in shock for a second, before melting into the frenzied, desperate kiss. It could have only been seconds but it felt like an eternity, both of them lost entirely within each other. It was only when they finally pulled back to breathe that they noticed how their skin had begun to change colour.
Thor gasped as he saw the blue he associated with his own reflection start to bleed outwards from Loki’s lips and speared across his face, turning the green eyes red.
“It’s okay Thor. It’s okay. Look.” Loki lifted Thor’s own hand and showed him how his blue gave way to the pink of Asgardian skin.
“I… I remember.” Thor said slowly. “I remember everything. The peace talks, the night in the tavern, taking the potion… You’re Laufey’s son. You’re the lost prince. And I’m… Odin’s son.”
“Yes Thor. You were lost in a storm. Odin blamed the Jotuns so he stole me as a child as revenge for your presumed death. He confessed it all to me.”

“What the Hel is this?” Odin’s voice rang clear across the ice.

“This, Father, is the truth.” Loki pushed Thor behind him as Odin made his way to the edge of the arena.
“Loki!” Odin snarled, “what trickery is this?”
“No tricks. Only truth. Although I can see, old man, how you would confuse the two. After you have spent all these years living a lie.”
Loki turned his back on Odin and turned to address the crowd. “I am Loki, son of Laufey, the lost prince of Jotunheim. I was stolen from my crib as a defenceless babe, raised by the butcherer of my people and used as a tool in the destruction of my homeland. I stand before you not as a prince of Jotunhiem, nor a prince of Asgard, but as a fellow pawn of this war. I first came to Jotunheim to translate the idle insults of two stubborn kings. I thought that if I could just make them understand each other, there was a chance to end this war altogether. I was wrong. They understood each other perfectly. They always have. I was wrong to think that the same tyrants who started this war would be the ones to end it. They could never. War sustains them. It gives them power. The path to peace will not be lain by kings, but by the people.”
Loki turned to Thor and raised an expectant eyebrow. Clearly, he wished Thor to continue his speech.
“Oh right, um hi, I’m Thor. Although, most you know that already…” Thor nervously looked at Loki who was shaking his head although he couldn’t fight his small, fond smile. “I am the son of Odin, apparently. Bit of a shock. But I don’t think it matters. Not to me. I never had a real family so I’ve always considered myself a son of Jotunheim. And I still do. Finding out where I came from hasn’t changed anything about who I am. It did make me question what I do. The Asgardians I was killing were not the monsters we had been taught they were. They were of my own flesh. The blood I was spilling flowed through my own veins. So why was I killing them? For the lost prince. It was always for the lost prince. But now he is found.”
Thor turned to Loki, tears shinning in his eyes.
“The lost prince is found. So what is left to fight for?”
“Don’t you see? It’s all been a lie.” Loki’s grin glinted in the pale sunlight. “Appropriate, is it not, for the one you have dubbed the Prince of Lies? I was born a lie, I lived a lie, my very skin was a lie. The same lie you were fighting for was the same enemy you sneered at from behind your horns of ale. You are not fighting for your lost prince. You are not fighting for your homelands. You are certainly not fighting for yourselves. You are fighting on the whim of two stubborn tryants, who would see everyone of their people dead before they would put a stop to this war.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?” A lone voice Jotun cried from the crowd.
“Go home. Just go home.” Thor shrugged.
“We… We can do that?” An Asgardian called out.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Absolutely not!” Odin growled. “Anyone who leaves and does not stay to fight is a coward and a traitor.”
“Your power came from lies, old man.” Thor’s voice was low and dangerous. “Now they know the truth, you have no power.”
“I am still their king!”
“The people do not exist to serve their King.” Loki stared down the man who had once been his father, “A King exists to serve his people. Learn your place, Odin.”
Odin’s face reddened but as he opened his place to reply, he noticed his army was beginning to disperse. Weapons clattered to the floor as their owners turned and left the battlefield. While most turned and walked back to their own barracks, several crossed to the other side and began to talk to those they had been preparing to fight. Loki spotted Snorri amongst them, making use of the dissolved language barrier to apologise to the Jotun he had fought with in the tavern all those months ago.
“Thor.” Odin apparently had more to say. “Thor, my son, return with me to Asgard. Come and fulfil your birth right as my heir, take the place of the runt imposter, and leave these ice monsters to their frozen wastelands.”
Thor turned his back on Odin, completely ignoring him. But the question still lingered. Asgard or Jotunheim? Should the two princes return to their land where they were raised or the ones they were born to rule?
“Well,” Thor eventually asked, “what do we do now?”
“We are the sole heirs to the two greatest kingdoms of the nine realms. We will be expected to meet our duties.” Loki sighed.
“Since when have we ever done what is expected of us?”
Loki grinned.
“Well… There is one place I’ve always wanted to visit.”
A swirl of green magic surrounded the princes and when the cold Jotun breeze had dispersed it, Thor and Loki were gone.

Chapter Text

“I received another raven today.”
Loki could feel the vibrations of Thor’s voice as he rested against the broad chest.
“Hmm?” He lifted his head to look at Thor. “From Laufey? Again?”
“Yes. He was asking you to reconsider.”
“I haven’t changed my mind.”
“I know.”
Loki laid back down, sighing at the softness of the long grass beneath him. The gentle breeze murmuring through the wild flowers was the only sound besides the steady beat of Thor’s constant heart. Loki reached out, snagging one of them in his hand. It was a forget-me-not, of course, and he marvelled at the way the small flowers seemed to disappear against his blue finger tips. He was in his Jotun skin, just as Thor was in his Asgardian. It wasn’t a decision they had consciously chosen, rather they rarely spent long enough apart for their skins to change to their previous colours.
“Do you miss Jotunhiem?” Loki asked after a moment. “We could go back. Just because I refused Laufey’s throne doesn’t mean you can’t return to his court. You were still his greatest general, maybe he could eventually see past your parentage? Or there’s always Asgard. Valkyrie might be king since the coup, but I’m sure she’ll consider a reinstatement of the old monarchy if you were to be the next ruler.”
Thor shook his head.
“That life was never meant for me. Even after all we have been through, I’m still just a soldier.”
“A soldier who wooed a prince.” Loki teased. “Not many men could claim that.”
“I wooed you, did I?” Thor laughed. “I seemed to recall you were the one sneaking into my chambers.”
“Well how was I meant to resist. You may have been a soldier, but nothing seduces me like a intricate scheme carried right under the noses of the most powerful people in the whole nine realms. You were much better at politics then you give yourself credit for.”
“Perhaps,” Thor mused, “but I wasn’t born to be a king like you were. I suppose though, I could see myself returning to a royal court some day… as a prince consort.”
Loki sat up suddenly, staring intensely into Thor’s sparkling eyes.
“Did… did you just propose?”
Thor’s laugh echoed through the quiet meadow as he grabbed Loki’s shoulder and rolled them over, pinning Loki against a carpet of forget-me-nots.
“I should have a long time ago, the first time I saw you scowling at me across the peace table.”
“Well to be a prince consort, you’d have to marry a king and I am currently lacking a kingdom.” Loki made a face which Thor banished with a flurry of quick kisses.
“You’ll always be my king, Loki. Whether it is king of Asgard, Jotunhiem, or even just this meadow.”
Loki pulled Thor down into another slow, soft kiss.
“Then I have decided. This will be our kingdom and you will be my husband. Thor and Loki, Kings of the meadow, or the mountains, the forests. Wherever we chose to go. No Asgard, no Jotunheim, no realms, no wars. Here and now will be our kingdom.”
Thor smiled.
“This moment will be our kingdom.”

The End