Chapter Text
“I have a secret to show you,” said Loki.
Thor squinted at his brother suspiciously. He’d only come into the garden because he was trying to find his quarterstaff, and he vaguely remembered practicing in the garden with it several weeks ago. This unexpected announcement was more than he’d bargained for. The last time Loki had had a secret to show him, it had ended with them both being confined to the palace for a month after their “secret” had escaped and ended up in the guest chambers of a visiting dignitary. They’d followed the screams to find the Light Elf ambassador standing on a chair at one end of the room, as far from the Odinsons’ new pet as he could possibly get. It had been harder to say who had looked more terrified – the elf or the snake.
Now Thor regarded his brother with one raised eyebrow, debating the merit of continuing the conversation instead of turning on his heel and leaving the gardens entirely. “If this is another pet, Brother –”
“It’s nothing like that.” Loki grinned. It was not his mischievous smile, but rather the one that came when he was truly delighted by something. Thor allowed himself to relax a bit as Loki’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Now follow me. No one else can see!”
Slightly reassured – and curious in spite of himself – Thor relented, and followed his brother down the main path through the palace garden. When they were halfway to the western gate, Loki abruptly turned, leading them instead on a haphazard route through flowerbeds and the occasional shrubbery. Thor followed gamely enough at first, figuring perhaps what Loki wanted to show him was a new game he’d invented, but after they’d hurled themselves onto the ground to drag themselves on hands and knees through the dirt, he was quickly deciding that perhaps he didn’t want to play anyway.
“What are you doing?” hissed Thor, when he could stand it no longer. He hauled himself out from beneath a moonblossom bush, trying not to wince at the thorns scraping down his bare arms. He came to his feet dirt-streaked and disheveled. “Is this part of the game?”
“No game, Brother. This is a secret, and I don’t want anyone following us and ruining it.” Loki grinned, with a touch of mischief in his eyes – but still, his smile was sincere. “C’mon, we’re almost there!”
They plowed through another few rows of plants and waist-high bushes, emerging at last into the apple tree groves that bordered the eastern end of the garden. Still Loki refused to say what he was planning, stopping only to shush Thor every time the other tried to protest.
Finally, when they’d gone so deep into the grove that they’d nearly entered the surrounding forest, Loki abruptly stopped. He dropped down to his knees, then gestured for Thor to do the same.
They were kneeling in a little clearing, the late afternoon sun shining a narrow sunbeam through the single gap in the leaves overhead. Loki waved a hand over the patch of earth between them, and the leaves and loose rocks cleared away, leaving a smooth surface of dirt.
“Dirt?” Thor was not sure whether he wanted to sound scornful or not. “You drug me all the way out here to look at dirt?”
“Just a minute, Thor.” Loki began to weave his hands once more, green light threading through his fingers. Beneath his palms, a symbol began to appear on the ground, gleaming gold against the dullness of the earth. It flashed once, bright enough that Thor squinted his eyes against it – and then the light was gone, leaving the symbol etched into the ground, as if traced there by an invisible hand. Loki dropped his hands and grinned, looking pleased with himself.
Thor considered. “What … er. What is it?”
“It’s my symbol,” said Loki.
Thor looked at his brother, then at the ground. “All right. But what is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, is it – is it a snake?”
“What?” Loki looked surprised, which Thor found unfair. “No, I don’t think so.”
Thor narrowed his eyes at that but didn’t say anything. He looked at the ground again. The lines didn’t really look like a snake, but he couldn’t think what else they were supposed to represent. A starburst, perhaps? The lines weren’t moving, and yet he would swear the shape of the thing was changing, somehow. “Is it – is it a fancy letter, then? Like maybe –”
“It’s a sigil,” said Loki, with a patience that didn’t quite push over into condescension. “A magical symbol. I’ve been working on it for weeks with Mother.”
“Mother’s seen it?” Thor fought back an eyeroll. “If Mother already knows about it, why’d we have to come all the way out here?”
“We’re not hiding from Mother,” said Loki. “I don’t want anyone else to see it. A magician’s own personal sigil is like – like a secret name. If too many people know it, it loses its power.”
That drew Thor up for a moment. He looked at the symbol again. It was hard to focus on, somehow – and yet he found, when he looked right at it, that it seemed almost as if he’d always known it. “It’s very nice,” he said at last, as politely as he could. Loki had clearly worked hard, and if he wanted to show off his latest magicks to his brother, then Thor was not about to be rude.
But Loki laughed a bit, eyes twinkling. “I know it doesn’t look like much. But I wanted you to see it. You need to learn it. By heart.”
Why? Thor was tempted to ask – but it was important to Loki, so that was enough. Probably. He shrugged and reached out a hand, intending to trace a copy of the mark alongside the first, but Loki grasped onto his wrist before he’d been able to draw the first line.
“What?” asked Thor, perplexed. “I thought you said I had to learn it by heart!”
“You won’t need to draw it to learn it.” Loki didn’t release his wrist, as if not trusting Thor to keep from trying it anyway. “Its magic will help you remember it without such practice.”
“Fine, but can’t I practice it anyway?”
“No.” The single word came out so emphatically that Thor stopped trying to pull his hand away. This seemed to satisfy his brother, and Loki released hold on Thor’s wrist. “You should only draw it in a true emergency. Darkest hour, direst need, that kind of thing.”
“Loki, why are you showing me this?” Thor was beginning to feel a trifle uneasy. “What do you mean by it?”
“I mean,” said Loki, “That if you are ever in trouble – if you ever have need of me – just draw that symbol. It’s more than a symbol, you see. It’s a call. A call for aid. The magic in it works like a message, finding me and letting me know that you need help. Wherever I am, I’ll always hear it -- and I'll always come.”
“But –” began Thor, and then stopped for a moment. In their five hundred years of childhood, they’d never been separated for more than a few days. Surely that would never change? “We’re going to fight side-by-side forever. You know that, right?”
“I know,” said Loki earnestly. “But just in case. If anything ever happens – if ever you need me, and I’m not there – remember the symbol. I’ll always hear the call, Brother. And I’ll always answer it.”
“All right,” said Thor, looking down at the sigil again. The magical light of its conjuring was gone, and yet still some part of Thor could swear that he saw it glowing still. Then he looked up, flashing his brother a grin. “And what if you have need of me? Shouldn’t I have a symbol, too?”
“Only magicians have sigils.” Loki grinned back, waving a hand to displace the dirt and wipe the ground clean. “I’ll have to settle for getting your attention as I always do.”
“Doing something to drive me crazy, you mean?”
“Of course.” Loki arched an eyebrow. “Works every time. Like right now, for instance.”
“What –” But Loki was already waving a hand in a conjuring spell, and a moment later, Thor’s quarterstaff materialized in his hand. He gave it a little twirl.
“I believe you’ve been looking for this all afternoon?” asked Loki.
“I,” laughed Thor, “Am going to kill you!”
Loki dropped the staff and took off down the grove path at a run, Thor stopping only long enough to retrieve it before dashing after him. And as they hollered and threatened and giggled their way back to the palace, the conversation was already slipping to the back of Thor’s mind. For now.
* * * * *
It was such a curious idea. I’ll always hear the call. Loki never mentioned the sigil again, and in the weeks that followed, Thor was halfway to convincing himself that he’d imagined the entire conversation. Well, not so much the conversation itself, perhaps. But surely the significance of it had been exaggerated in his own imagination. Maybe the sigil itself was real – it looked magical enough to Thor’s eyes, though admittedly he was not the best judge of such things – but Loki’s solemn secrecy and earnest promise must’ve been an affectation, if not a downright trick.
He should test it, Thor decided. Draw the sigil, see if it somehow succeeded in “summoning” his brother to his side. His first impulse was to simply try it when his brother was in some other room, to draw it on the nearest scrap of paper and see if Loki appeared – but something about the idea did not appeal. If Loki came in, couldn’t it be a mere coincidence? It needed a real test, surely.
Thor waited for the next occasion he had to travel without his brother – as it turned out, accompanying his father on a diplomatic visit to Nidavellir (it had become routine for both Father and Mother to take one or both of their sons on various missions throughout the Nine Realms).
The first moment he had alone to himself, he raced to his cabin on board the ship and dug out the sketchbook and pens he’d brought to amuse himself on the journey. He’d put pen to paper and was about to make the first mark when, once again, something drew him up short. He hesitated, pen hovering above the page – and then, after a few long moments, reluctantly drew back. He shut the sketchbook, then dropped it and the pen onto the small bunk before tossing himself alongside them.
I just don’t want to set Loki up for failure, he told himself. He’s only been doing magic with Mother for a few centuries, not a few millennia. And even the most powerful of magicians struggles with transportation spells, so how would he get to our ship? He couldn’t do it even if he wanted to. No sense in embarrassing him.
He told himself this, so that he didn’t have to think about what had really stopped him.
Darkest hour. Direst need.
Thor hadn’t exactly made any promises. But … Loki had. That seemed to be worth something.
So he put the thought aside. Nearly forgot about it.
Nearly.