Frozen Spirit

         Thor let out a war cry, slamming the hammer down and sending electricity through the bodies of the Elves. He knew that there was probably an army of Elves coming, Malekith had probably already called for reinforcements. Thor took a deep breath, swinging his hammer by his side and gaining momentum. He took one last look at the ground to get a sort of feel as to where the elves were and then took off. He held himself in the air, letting the seiðr move around him and channel into Mjölnir.

         He took  a deep breath, gripping the hammer and sending himself down towards the ground and the elves.They buckled under him as he landed, Thor’s eyes closing as he felt the electricity rumble through him and lashed out like a beast. Thor let out another growl, eyes flashing with glee as he made his way towards Loki’s side.

          When he finally approached the Casket and Malekith who stood before it, Loki stood poised to throw his dagger precisely. He pauses only a minute, considering his options. He’d made a promise that he intended to keep-- to kill Malekith with this very knife, to bury it in his throat and watch as he choked on his own blood. But from this position, Malekith may have been without help, but he certainly wasn’t helpless.

That thing where they first meet again and that expression of confusion bc ‘I know them’

and then they struggle with getting closer for no damn reason but just?? t h e m

And tHEN THEY GET FLASHBACKS OF THE HORRIBLE THINGS THAT TORE THEM APART IN A PREVIOUS LIFE

Or one of them does and they have to stare into that other person’s face every morning knowing they’ll never understand how much they love them

Mouth pops open, hovering on the precipice of uncharacteristic baulking before the warrior recalls how mercurial young master’s pride was - a stroke of luck that Loki’s back was now turned and the smaller could not see orbed crimsons and near-comical look of bewilderment. Thor’s place may have been above the civilians of their realm, but questioning the judgement of a member of the royal family was simply a thing one did not do. Even Helblindi and Byleistr, the youngest of Laufey’s progenies, could exact swift and painful punishment for mild disobedience; the brothers had a knack for it too, creative and cruel disciplinary action without actually killing their offender, yet would oft leave one wishing they had.

Proper or not however, thoughts continued to cause falter in stunned recovery. His Prince, offering not only a priceless gift, but the control over Seidr likened that to the potential of a collapsing star? Thor’s loyalty was a firm thing, but if Loki had intended to place him above all others in the ranks of stríðsmenn, including Laufey’s own personal guard— lips sealed. Then curled. Chest expanding as dignified steps fell calmly in line behind his Prince, one for every two.

Of course. That was Loki’s intent. Proof to all that stature meant nothing when it came to power, nor ability to garner loyalty. Loki Laufeyson; the strongest ergi to be born into the royal line, and with these last two pieces in place - formidable weapon and the promise of undying fealty - Thor’s heart-brother now held the fate of Jötunheimr in his slender little hands.

        Returning Mjölnir to his belt, errant sparks skittered their last path from locks to torc, rooting home in the warrior’s chest as their path was cleared with infinitely more enthusiasm than their arrival. A sated sort of calm now gracing bearded features as anticipation stirred righteous in his blood; This was how it should be. His body set to proper purpose, armour and tempest, and his every action, his every breath, belonging to the other. Together they would etch their name into history, honour and glory to be spoken many millennia after they had ceased to corporeally exist —for Thor had no doubt the younger had more than ageing with dust upon their brows in mind.

          Even if that meant ordering Thor to kill Loki’s kyn, he wouldn’t have stopped. Helblindi would fight Loki’s ascension, but Býleistr was not so power hungry. He would not like it, but he would accept it if he could live.

          Loki did not intend these things. No, he will wait for Laufey to die some other way, be it a pitiful old man’s death or death by fighting some other source. Thor would lose faith in him, and the rest of Jötunheim would not follow him without Laufey’s consent. And if he were to set his sights on Asgard, he needed both behind him, entirely and without question. If Thor were to discover... he needs to not have the ability to change his mind.

          They walk in relative silence towards where his father’s basalt column throne rests in the middle of the large expanse of ice and black marble that made up the throne room. The impressive seat was simple and solid, like the king who sat in it, and as the crown prince’s eyes look around the room, he sees they have caught him in a brief reprieve from the meetings with Jarls and advisors that needed his attention. And lucky they had too, because had they not, they would be left waiting for who knows how long, until Laufey had completed his meetings.

          “Faðir. We have a request of you.”

          Laufey King looks down upon them, assessing them quietly for a moment. His eyes narrow on his son for a moment, undoubtedly believing he was up to something terrible. He knew his eldest too well, always could see through even the most carefully crafted deception. But there was no deception in him now, and so Laufey bids them forward with a wave of his hand.

          “You only act so polite when you are playing a trick or seeking a favor. What is it now that has made my prideful heir act like a meek pup?”

          The Aesir closed his eyes in concentration. a slight tremor of fear rippling up his spine. He knew that if he were to be late even one second, he could die. This was the moment of truth; the moment where his trust in Loki would either be unfounded or true. He hoped for the latter, though he knew this wasn’t always the case. If Malekith promised him more than Thor could give, he would not blame the Jotun for it. To protect ones people, sacrifices are made.

          Thor gripped his fists, feeling the pulse of Mjolnir against his thigh. There was a slight change in the air as he felt the eyes fall to him. He listened to Loki’s speech about the spear, knowing that maybe just maybe, he would make it out alive. He took a short breath, eyes opening as he felt the rope fall from his wrists. Without a second thought,  he grabbed for Mjolnir and tossed it at the head of the nearest elf.

          It fell to the ground, twitching as Thor yanked Mjolnir up with his seiðr. His eyes flashed like a storm as he tossed the hammer through the group of approaching elves. ❝ WE MUST not allow him to use the Casket! He may attempt to bring forth–❞Thor’s words were interrupted by the Elf closest to him attempting to spear him. He knocked the tool out of the hands, eyes flicking to the group of elves now surrounding him. He chuckled, allowing Mjolnir to pulse with seiðr once more.

          A sword swings at Loki, and swift as the wind, he twists and dodges out of reach, his momentum launching a shard of ice from his hand and into the Elf’s exposed neck. To his left, Helblindi snaps the spear in his massive hands, and  Býleistr forms huge blades of ice around his arms.

          “Do not let anyone closer to the Casket! And do not kill Malekith! He’s mine.”

           Thor felt a shiver race up his back  at the calm  collection Loki-king put before the dark elf. It was almost as if they had spoken in this capacity before; made treaties together. But that was impossible! Thor would have known if Jotun had made a deal with someone. Loki would have told him. This plan wouldn’t work if Thor didn’t know all the details. 

           Malekith let a soft scoff fall from his lips, the edges of his mouth curling up. ❝ IF YOU believe that to be my plan, then you are far simpler than your gift. You believe I would take the risk of beginning Fimbulwinter before its time? I merely took what you desired to get what I desired. I knew you would react in anger once you had found I stole it. Knew you would take it farther than even I would. And now, here you stand with the golden lion of Asgard. All I had to do was push.❞

            The elf chuckled again, eyes glinting as he looked over the Aesir. Thor twitched, growling as those eyes seemingly pierced through him. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was Loki’s plan all along. Thor shook the thought from his mind, knowing that this had been his idea from the start, not Loki’s. Whatever transgressions Loki had committed in the past, Thor would forgive.

             So long as he made it out alive.

          But Malekith didn’t know all of that. He just thought Loki would be satisfied killing Thor and taking the Casket home, and that he had cloaked himself from Heimdall’s sight, so he was safe from blame for the blood on his hands. But letting Heimdall know of what they were doing was more of an insurance than a liability. It ensured that should something happen and they needed help, it would come.

          And something was surely about to happen. He wouldn’t kill Thor, for the sake of his realm and the alliance they had forged. Thor was a man of honor, unlike Malekith, and he’d rather Thor as his ally than Malekith, who has betrayed him once before.

          Loki smiles, the smile of a man who knows he’s been outwitted but holds no ill will because of it. “You’re right Malekith, I would take it farther than you. But I also make things personal. Spears are much too impersonal, don’t you think?” He passes the weapon to Helblindi, who looks at the spear like it is nothing more than a stick he would pick his teeth with. The Frost Giant King draws his knife from his sheathe, and stands behind Thor, grabbing him by his golden hair and yanking back to expose his throat, which he holds the knife to. He savors this moment, truly, for it is the last chance he’ll have to kill the Odinson. To enact revenge for thousands of years of desolation and despair.

          Odin’s crimes are not Thor’s crimes, and Laufey’s vengeance is not Loki’s burden. Today, it is honesty that will win Jotunheim’s peace, not the death of an Aesir king.

          “That’s why today, you’ll die choking on your own blood with my knife in your throat, Malekith.”

          In one quick motion, Loki has turned the blade away from Thor’s throat, and pulled it back behind him, slicing the ropes that held his hands weakly and standing ready for the fight that was to come, his hands glowing a malicious green as seiðr flows through him like a toxin.

            Thor let a growl resonate in his throat, his eyes watering as he was led along with the frost giant and the elf. He hadn’t thought this would take so long, but he trusted Loki to know what he was doing. After all, if he wanted to end this war, he had to trust the Jotun. Trust that even as Malekith spoke of treaties and broken promises, Loki was going to keep his word.

            The Dark Elf led them into the throne room, the praise obviously affecting him. ❝ IT WAS far easier than even I expected. These light elves bow to the power of the darkness so willingly. Almost as if they were afraid I’d corrupt them. ❞ Malekith chuckled to the party, settling on his throne and having Thor laid prostrate at his feet. The Aesir attempted to lift his head, only to have a berserker slam it back down and step on it to keep him that way.

         ❝ NOW, YOU wish to speak with me of the casket? I was the one who stole it from under the oaf’s nose and now you expect me to just give it to you in exchange for him? I could have stolen him too; kept him locked up like a treasure and taken him down to dance naked on hot coals for my guests. Did you think that maybe I needed him in Asgard? Who else will lead a war against me but a foolish, uncowardly lion? ❞ 

          Loki always appreciated time to craft his lies, and to ensure they are flawlessly executed. But in a rush, he had to craft their plan, and their lies, as well as acting flawlessly in time as short as a heartbeat. And right now, he is not negotiating, he is fighting against doubt, which requires him to stay perfectly calm and charming in the face of a thief, simply making his job more frustrating.

          “And why wage war when Asgard is in the palm of your hand? This boy king is the only legitimate heir to Odin’s throne. A king regent can only rule for so long, and without a queen at his side or a child to continue succession, Asgard will be lost. I imagine they would forsake a great many things for their golden king to be returned to them. They would make a deal with you, my fellow king, so as to have him back. And once he is safely returned to them, they would keep the deal so as to keep their lives.”

            ❝ YOU EXPECT me to believe that you would capture the Asgardian King for a mere trinket? Come, Laufeyson. You wanted him dead not three moons ago. Did you not sit at my table and agree that the golden lion of Asgard had to fall for the realms to be at peace? ❞ The elf gave a crooked smile to Thor, walking forward and grabbing a handful of hair. Thor growled as his head was hoisted up, his blue eyes a storm.

          “I would be honored to join you. Then perhaps we can put this business behind us. I should like to return the Casket to it’s rightful place soon and cement my reign as one of rebirth for Jotunheim.”

          As the gathering of kings and guards proceeded down the hall, Loki mused on how to approach this situation. He had a definitive plan of action, of course, but should Malekith direct his attention elsewhere-- to his brothers, or to Thor, before he set the scene of his story, it was likely they could ruin his lies. And so he simply had to keep Malekith’s attention, by some means.