Chapter Text
He tapped his black nails against the pillar of pale stone and builder’s gold, chewing on his tongue.
Thor was back. Thor was in Asgard, somewhere inside the very building.
Bright daylight forced Loki to squint. Leaning against the arching pillar and looking out at the sunlit city and its star-dotted skies was… not helping, but not actively worsening his mood either. Tyr had announced it bluntly as soon as they had sat down, and just like that he had ruined all of Loki’s carefully prepared debate points for the rest of the morning.
The Prince has returned from the Outer Realms. He will call for council later this week.
The landscape below was a small joy, but he tried to hold on to it nonetheless. The day was quiet and the weather wasn’t too warm, so it had actually been almost pleasant.
And perhaps he could go and sit outside in the evening when everything was finished. He could cloak himself from view and dodge the busiest streets, go and breathe freely somewhere no one else went. Or perhaps he would just sit on the bed in his cramped quarters and stay up, staring at the ceiling and overthinking everything. That one sounded like a lovely plan, too.
He felt the ghosts of someone moving on the edges of his senses and heard the ring of familiar footsteps. Someone became several, and when he heard them talk, he didn’t even have to look over his shoulder to know who they were. There were few people with such pride and overconfidence that it oozed from them in pails and covered the floors wherever they went. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, coming from his right, behind him.
Loki tried to swallow, but his mouth felt dry. Balling his hands into fists to keep them still was a mistake. He only felt how coarse and thick his nails were when they pressed into his palms.
What were those four doing in the bureaucratic wing of the palace? Moreso, why had he stayed in the open hallway and not inside a drawing room or another? He could have offered to help Freyr with… whatever, really.
He glanced down at his small, half-eaten lunch on the wide window seat, and then quickly away to keep down what little he had managed to eat. He was a fool, blinded and tamed by familiar corners. Made to think that he was safe and that, just perhaps, everything would be good again.
As if there had been a true time of something good before his present life.
There was no way they hadn’t already spotted him, not with how they had stopped talking. Shrouding himself then would only prove his presence. He heard the steps falter and felt them stop.
Loki turned as slowly as he could, holding back the inevitable for as long as possible, and tried to shove away his anxious frown. There was no reason to try and escalate the situation, or to seem like he couldn’t be reasoned with. He only wanted to get away as soon as possible.
He held his hands in front of him to keep them visible - like a humble, idle servant, and he wanted to curse himself - but lifted his chin to preserve some semblance of his pride. If he looked like a statue, would they walk past?
Unlikely, but perhaps he could. Loki lifted his gaze up at those four familiar faces.
“Hello,” he greeted them.
Sif froze completely, but he saw how heat and colour fled her face. Volstagg recoiled and blanched even further. Fandral’s hands stopped an inch too late for their path not to become visible - he was going for the knife on his belt.
“Lo…” Fandral didn’t finish the thought, and made a strange, choking sound instead. None of them were able to look him in the eye.
Or perhaps they just didn’t want to connect what they saw in front of them with whom they had once fought beside. Loki forced his eyes to stay up and couldn’t help the urge to lift a brow at their uncharacteristic silence.
It stung, just a little. Fandral was mouthing something, unable to speak. They looked terrified of him just standing still in front of them, and it wasn’t a good feeling. A surprising realisation.
If he were an honest man, Loki would have said it out loud. They were no doubt thinking about that mess in Jötunheim those few years ago.
Did they think that he’d known already by then? Perhaps he had planned to kill Thor all along, take over the whole kingdom and make Asgard a part of Jötunheim instead. That would sound like a plan of a giant’s bastard, wouldn’t it. Fit for a tale, even.
He waited, and they didn’t answer his greeting or his eyes. There was little more he could do but stay still and be stared at. They were all struck mute by the horror of seeing the ghoulish changeling that he really was.
Appearances aside, apparently he was still the same gullible fool he had always been, for Loki had never imagined the repulsion so clear on their faces. He had thought just moments ago, like a dumb child, that they would have at least said something. Mustering up a thin smile felt like swallowing a burning piece of coal.
“Well,” he forced out and tried to think of which way to flee, should he pick his things, should he, “I was… just…”
“Hello, Loki.” Looking over Sif’s shoulder, his eyes met with a blunt and unwavering pair of earthy dark. They stopped him from running and wringing his hands just in time.
“Ah, Hogun,” Loki said, forcing up as much false joy in his voice as he could, which wasn’t much. At least his voice didn’t break. Hogun took a step closer, past Sif, and nodded.
“You’re back from Vanaheim, I see,” Loki managed to add. He couldn’t do better than that. Would it be enough to turn away now?
The rest were still opening their mouths like three overgrown fish, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care. He just wanted to get away.
“Welcome to Asgard,” he said, knowing that such wishes were no longer his to give. But the disgustingly childish relief that swelled in his throat at Hogun’s level stare that answered his - one unchanged pair of eyes, however cold they had always been - was a feeling he couldn’t help. It rose up like bile and nearly choked him. He didn’t want it.
Hogun was always difficult to read, but the sharpest edge of his gaze seemed to change to… surprise? Suspicion? Loki couldn’t decide which it was, but he remembered that it was just another one of those false consolations he kept falling for. Every other day.
“As are you,” Hogun said. His voice was no warmer than his eyes, but he glanced at the other warriors before nodding slowly. “Asa-Loki.”
The name felt like a slap across his face, and Loki dropped the smile. Volstagg shushed loudly in a way that was likely meant to be discreet, but failed spectacularly.
How did Hogun know to use that name? Was he mocking him in front of the rest, just as they had in Jötunheim?
Asa-Loki, Odin’s dog. Wasn’t that exactly what Helblindi had told him, loudly, from Byleist’s side. That he was still in a leash and begging for commands.
Sif, Fandral and Volstagg all looked just as shocked as Loki felt. Hogun seemed unfazed.
“What on earth do you mean,” Sif whispered to Hogun, echoing Loki’s thoughts. Her pulse was racing - Loki felt it clearly even with the good five or six steps between them, all her warmth pressed tightly in her middle. She was ready for a run, or perhaps to drive a sword right through Loki’s stomach.
“He has returned,” Hogun said, his tone unimpressed. Loki stole a glance along the hallway and weighed his options. He didn’t get far in his escape plans when Hogun’s look stopped him once again, calm and level. He met Loki’s bright-red eyes again.
“And he is of Asgard,” Hogun added.
Oh?
“He is not -” Volstagg hissed, but quickly cut himself off. Not Aesir, Loki knew that, but Hogun turned to look at Volstagg instead, and stayed silent for a long while.
“Is he not?” Hogun asked. Volstagg and Sif looked almost insulted at how he looked at them. Loki drew in a deep breath and swallowed, eyeing the four warily.
“He was raised here,” Hogun added almost lightly, breaking his stoic look and glancing at Loki. He even gave his friends the hint of a smile that wasn’t laughing with them at all.
“Is he not of Asgard?” he asked and shoved at Fandral’s shoulder lightly, in a way that was not on their side. His accent was thick, the grounded dialect of Vanaheim, and he looked nothing like the rest of their comrades.
Not Aesir.
Loki cleared his throat.
“As much as yourself,” he offered carefully, keeping his eyes on Hogun and trying to still the stabs of worry inside his guts. All four turned to look at him again, and he felt like he was frozen on the spot.
It was no insult, and he didn’t want Hogun to take it as one. Really, it was more of a wish.
“Yes,” Hogun simply said, before he started moving again. “Come,” he told the rest. Loki focused on the sound of his steps and the movement he sensed as Hogun walked past, but was too terrified to turn his head when the other three hastily followed.
Did Hogun just grant his wish? He couldn’t move at all until the hallway was empty again, and breathing was difficult even after he was left alone.
/ / / /
Nightfall was closing in on Asgard, a noticeable shift in the air even if the palace was well-lit. Loki shrugged his heavy overcoat on, shoving his last things in the pockets and stepping out into the wide hallway. Someone sat on the window bench outside the council hall, and lifted his face when the door fell closed with a thud.
“Don’t run yet,” Hogun said curtly. Loki stopped in surprise and shut his mouth tightly. What was Hogun doing there?
“I want to talk,” he added, and Loki frowned in suspicion.
“Of what?” he asked. Hogun stood up and walked to him, and he had to force himself not to take a step back.
“Of you,” Hogun said and stopped just out of an arm’s reach. “How are you?”
Loki could feel his arms prickling, and wanted to squeeze his hands together, but tried to be glad for the fact that at least his sleeves were long and thick. Hogun couldn’t see much of his blue skin, save for his face and the shaved side of his scalp, all the clan markings on his skin.
“And how is that any of your concern?” he asked back.
“I am being polite. You’re not,” Hogun said and shrugged. Before Loki could help himself, he snorted out a short laugh. The disgustingly tight feeling from before was constricting his chest again. He shook his head and gave Hogun a side-eyed look, but the man looked almost satisfied, like making him laugh had been his intention. What was this about?
“So, how are you?” Hogun asked again, and Loki cleared his throat as subtly as he could.
“I was doing my work, earning my upkeep,” he said, and regretted sounding so much like he was choking.
Hogun nodded. He looked like he expected more, he even waited for Loki to go on. It made his skin crawl and his heart pick up its pace unannounced like a spooked colt in training.
“What are you doing here?” Loki asked Hogun. There was no reason for him to be in the corridor, waiting for him of all people. The rest of the council had left already, nearly an eighth ago.
“You’ve been gone for a long time. I heard that you haven’t met the rest yet. Nor Thor,” Hogun said and looked at him curiously. It wasn’t worded as a question, but it was one. Loki drew in a sharp breath. As if it was his decision to make, when to approach the Aesir in the palace and where to spend his time.
“Yes. I’ve made myself quite busy,” he said, and turned to leave. “Good night.”
Hogun fell into pace beside him.
“That’s not what I hear in the court,” he said, and even though Loki didn’t look at him, he felt and heard Hogun giving him nosy looks. “They say that you spend all your time with your work, and if you don’t, you’re nowhere to be seen.”
“And how is that a change of my habits?” Loki asked.
“You used to be visible. And now, even as you are, you’re a ghost.”
Loki stopped and turned to face Hogun. The nervous warmth in his throat died out like a tiny windowsill candle doused in a bucket-full of icy water.
“Even as I am?” he snapped. “You’re here pestering me like a cursed draugr yourself!”
“I spoke to Councilman Baldr today,” Hogun said, frowning at the insult but staying otherwise just as calm as before. “He spoke of you.”
“Really? Well, I’m glad you’ve caught up on all the gossip,” Loki hissed.
“He doesn’t speak ill of you. Only good things,” Hogun said. “I was surprised,” he added.
“Go and leave me be. If someone sees this, I will hear of it tomorrow, and I will hear a lecture on why I shouldn’t pester the nobility of the palace with my foul tongue and my distasteful aims,” Loki told him. He glanced over his shoulder warily - Sun’s blessing, no one was there - before taking a step back. Hogun looked almost surprised.
“Have you not seeked out company?” he asked. Loki stared at him. What was that supposed to mean, what company? Were there even uglier rumours circulating, now, that he hadn’t even heard yet?
“What I do with my time is not your concern. You have no idea how it feels to -” Loki had to cut himself off. Hogun waited quietly, lifting a brow at him.
“To what?” he asked. Loki closed his mouth, not bearing to meet his eyes any longer. His stomach twisted.
“To not have a home,” he struggled to spit out, breath hitching.
“I know,” Hogun said and crossed his arms. Loki stared at him.
“No, you don’t,” he said, shaking his head, but Hogun’s frown made him hesitate and keep any further argument to himself.
“Is Asgard my home?” Hogun asked. Loki eyed him warily.
“Isn’t Vanaheim?”
“I don’t speak the language,” he said. “I don’t know when the trees are cut or when they’re dry enough for firewood. I can’t milk a goat or a horse.”
An uncomfortable shiver ran up Loki’s entire back like a rake, and he was really starting to feel ill to his stomach.
“I was raised here. In the barracks, where Thor and his friends picked me up. Then I was taught here, in the palace. That you know, too,” Hogun said. “But I don’t speak this language either. I don’t look the part, and I don’t like this food. Neither land is my home.”
“Well, at least you’re not alone with your struggles,” Loki said under his breath, trying to keep the sick feeling down. It was uncomfortable, more so with the prickling feeling around his eyes and in the back of his throat.
“You’re not the only one from Vanaheim who lives here. Asgard loves your people. You’re the same people,” he managed and motioned at Hogun and the golden glittering hall they were standing in. Forseti’s whole family was from Vanaheim, so was Freyr. It was nothing new.
“You’re not alone with your struggles either. You’re just too blind to see the struggle of others,” Hogun said bluntly.
Loki blinked at him in confusion. Hogun took a step closer and lowered his voice.
“You’re as blind as all nobles are. And I think that you were blinder than most,” he said slowly. Loki opened his mouth to object, offended, but Hogun didn’t let him.
“You would be as bad as Bragi, Tyr and Odin all, without this,” Hogun said.
“I don’t -” Loki tried, but the stern look in Hogun’s eyes stopped him.
“I am glad that this -” he swatted a hand generously against Loki’s chest and gestured at his face “- came in your way. You’re not blind anymore.”
“Glad?” Loki asked, taken aback by Hogun’s unapologetic insult. Glad that his whole life, his face was a cruel lie, and that after years of exile, people held his heritage against him? That he had nowhere to go to ever be home?
“Yes,” Hogun said, and he sounded very serious. Loki couldn’t exactly disagree. He hated himself just as much as everyone else. It still stung to hear it confirmed.
“I am glad, because I think it can open your eyes to the world that is outside of your own head,” Hogun said and nodded his head towards the window arches and the city far below. “You don’t have to keep that hate inside yourself.”
“What do you mean?” Loki had to ask, because he was completely lost by then. Hogun gave a sideways look along the hall before looking at Loki again, eyes serious and steady.
“What Asgard does with their eyes closed, it brings me no joy. Not with anyone, not with you,” he said. Loki tried to look for a lie in his eyes, but couldn’t find one.
He only found himself hoping again. Wishing for Hogun to grant him some sort of absolution.
“You see it now, better than before. Open your eyes and let go of that misery you hold to your chest. See that it comes from outside,” Hogun said.
“And where should I direct my misery?” Loki asked. Hogun shrugged and looked like he wanted to sigh.
“Use it to do something good. It could be refreshing,” he said and spread his hands, looking at Loki from head to toe skeptically for a while.
“And you should eat more. You’re more angles and bone than I remember,” he said, taking Loki by surprise. He opened his mouth before he knew how to respond, and just gaped at Hogun for a moment.
“It’s not… I just look different than I did,” he choked out and averted his gaze. “More like a jötun. The magic runs different in that realm”
“Still. Your cheeks look carved out,” Hogun said and pointed at his face. Loki felt his cheeks flush.
“I’m not a child,” he said, and sounded just like one. Hogun wasn’t that much older than him. There was no need for anyone to worry over him. Food was plenty in Asgard when compared to Jötunheim’s barren tundras and glaciers. No one should have even looked at him that closely.
“I know, but you’re still someone,” Hogun said curtly. “Don’t let my sympathy get into your head. But eat more, get out more. Be seen, but don’t sit so high on your horse that you can’t see the rest of us without a home either.”
Loki fell silent, unsure of how to reply. He folded his hands together behind his back, and Hogun let him take his time. It felt almost too indulgent of him, but Sigyn had said that Loki was bad at receiving apologies or being polite, hadn’t she. Maybe he was.
“Thank you,” he tried, looking at Hogun warily. He showed no indication of whether or not it was a good thing to say, and Loki hesitated again.
“For taking the time to… meet me. I suppose,” he said. Hogun nodded.
“What did the rest think?” he found himself asking softly, squeezing his fingers hard behind his back, and tried to smooth his expression into an indifferent one. This time Hogun looked surprised, for a moment, before he took a deep breath and tilted his head this way and that.
“They’re confused and scared. Just as you,” he said. Loki nodded, not sure how to reply to that one either.
“If you wish to join us, some time, I would take a turn on your side,” Hogun said and offered his bare hand to Loki. He did it without hesitation even after seeing what a giant’s touch was capable of. Even after helping the rest with proper healing magic he alone had ever studied in their group. Loki had long thought it beneath him, and only knew the basics.
“I don’t trust you, but I don’t hate you either. Not often, at least,” Hogun offered, and somehow his broken accent made it all the more genuine. Loki blinked quietly for a while, licked his lips and cleared his throat to get rid of the strained feeling under his jaw.
“I think I trust you too much,” he had to admit and answered the handshake carefully, taking a hold of Hogun’s arm and looking at him. “But take it as a compliment on your nature rather than mockery on mine.”
“I shall,” Hogun smiled, patted him twice on the shoulder, and then let go. Loki shrugged to get his coat to settle better on him, and to hide his arms.
“Good night, Asa-Loki. I’m going that way,” Hogun said, and nodded to a stairwell that descended westward. Loki nodded.
“Good night, Hogun of two Homes,” he said. Hogun laughed, and Loki felt almost amused. Perhaps he had even hoped for such a reaction.
It was an odd truce, and it kept him up long into the night, but it didn’t feel wrong. Just strange. It was a different ache than usual, and it took Loki a while to realise that Hogun had made him a little bit happy for a change.
He would have to take Hogun’s offer and to see how uncomfortable the rest would be if he sided with Loki. He’d have to try and thank Baldr, too, for not speaking ill of him.