Chapter Text

Chapter One

“So you will be that emissary?”

Loki drew in deep breath. The words of Odin held a heavy weight; he could feel the pressure of those words upon him, along with the solemnity and hint of scepticism, and with every second that passed between them it felt as if Odin sought to analyse and judge him. There was doubt writ across the face of his father-in-law, so that it was clear he believed Loki incapable of sincerity, and yet there was a subtle pull upon his lips that showed an interest at the chance to advance the agenda of their realm.

It was difficult to make an accurate guess as to how Odin would react to the proposition, for – whilst it clearly worked in the old king’s best interests – there was a great risk that Loki sought to deceive him and held his true motives hidden. He would no doubt have to weigh the benefits against the risk carefully, for one faulty decision would result in vast damage and deaths of many. Odin was not a fool. He knew well that Loki would only offer such a proposition should there be something within the offer of benefit to himself, as such he could not agree until he was certain that any hidden motives proved no threat to their realm, which was likely impossible to prove.

“That I would,” said Loki. “This would benefit us both greatly.”

The silence that followed felt as cold as the night air. It was a relief to Loki to feel the fresh air upon his skin, for the pregnancy had forced upon him a fever that he could barely endure, and with each day the fever seemed to grow immensely. Odin had done a kindness to allow this meeting to take place upon the balcony, for the cold air allowed for a clear mind and little distraction. Any break from his usual discomfort was most welcomed indeed. He relished in the moment.

Odin stood beside the balcony and rested a hand regally upon the railing, although he kept his working eye firm upon the younger man beside him. It was difficult to feel under such scrutiny, but Loki took solace in the fact that he no longer was supervised and guarded, as such the only times when he felt under examination were the times when he chose to be examined as such. He looked out across the landscape of Asgard. Their realm was beautiful indeed, with a vast amount of lights and life beneath his sights, and it was clear in that moment why Odin stove so hard to protect their people, for this was a realm worth protecting. Loki knew that he could do nought to jeopardise their people either, but sometimes a little risk could be a good thing.

It seemed that their eyes both fell upon the bridge at the same moment, a fact that came to light when Odin shifted his gaze and caught the place where his son-in-law focussed. It was enough to jolt Loki away from his considerations and back into the moment, although a part of him wondered when his husband would return and what would occur should he learn of these talks, and yet he was grateful that Thor was far away at such a time as this. Odin raised his head and turned his body to face the younger man’s. It was an almost intimidating position.

“What benefit does this bring you, Loki?”

“It is interesting that you ask me that,” he replied. “I hold no belief that you would trust my words even should I speak the truth, but the best kept secret is often hidden in plain sight. I will tell you, although I know it shall mean nothing to you.”

“Aye, it matters not what you say, for should I agree to this bargain of yours then we shall never speak of it again. It would not do for the Allfather to be implicated in your schemes, as such if your doings are discovered then I shall deny all knowledge of the part that you have played, and yet it seems that you consider this a risk worth taking. You have just avoided imprisonment, you would risk that again?”

“I believe that I risk nothing.”

Odin did not look to Loki at such a response, but instead to Loki’s swollen stomach, where the younger man held his hands clasped under the rounded bulge as if he could somehow lessen the burden of the weight. There was a sudden softness to his eyes, so that the love and worry he felt for his unborn granddaughter shone through, and yet Loki felt nothing but a bitter resentment at that fact. He wondered how Odin had looked to him upon first holding him; did he look to him with that same kindness?

“Very well, then I will say this and only this: I would have you speak some semblance of the truth, so that I may know what you may stand to gain from this offer to act as emissary of our realm to the Jotun race. To instigate war is no small matter.”

“I believe that Thor’s love for me is so strong that he will not abandon me should he discover the truth; even if he does become disillusioned by the fact that I have lied to him once more, he will still remain loyal to me. I will not lose my husband. The simple fact is that this war would secure my place and my daughter’s, for should I be allowed to contribute to our victory then no one will ever be able to doubt my loyalties again. My daughter will not be mocked for having an argr father, for I will have proved my manhood along with my worth, as such she will suffer no shame.

“There is also the fact that we will gain greater control of Jotunheim. I do not propose that we shall rule them or do anything to harm them, for such a suggestion would cost me my marriage and cause doubt to be cast upon me, but – let me say – a broken Jotunheim is a Jotunheim that poses no threat. We may be able to use that to our advantage, whether that means we start afresh as comrades or simply take pleasure in that they shall never prove a threat to us again. Asgard will gain security and safety.”

“There is no doubt some small grain of truth to your words.”

“You mean to say that you do not believe me.”

There was a brief moment of silence. It was clear that Odin knew well that Loki hid many of his true motives, instead throwing him half-truths under the illusion of something more, and likewise Loki did not expect complete honesty from his father-in-law in turn. The sound of people milling to and fro could be heard in the distance, along with the sound of a breeze blowing through, and Loki instinctively turned into the wind. It felt good against his skin.

Loki let out a heavy breath as he felt his daughter kick from inside him, enough so that it caught him unawares and caused him to wince slightly, even as he strove to maintain an image of strength before the Allfather. It was enough to remind him of her presence, as if she kicked purposely simply to remind him not act or speak hastily so long as their existence was tied together. He rested his hand against the green cotton of his tunic, having long replaced the heavier wools and leathers with lighter materials, and felt the outline of what seemed to be a small hand. He quickly withdrew his hand and battled a sudden feeling of nausea. It was impossible to get used to the feelings of his daughter alive in side him; he couldn’t wait for the birth.

“You act out of self-interest,” said Odin.

“Don’t we all?” Loki replied.

“It is lucky that our interests overlap. This war is necessary in order to protect our realm; our people were at the brink of a civil war over your imprisonment, and so this external enemy will provide a vital distraction and bring them together in a worthy cause. It will also reassert our authority over the Jotun people and prevent them from further attack upon our state, and so it is a purging that it most needed.

“It cannot be denied that you show the attributes that would make a good king, but I fear that I have instilled in you such sentiments that would lead to the demise of many and have led to the demises of many. You know what it means to rule, but you seek to rule too much. You cannot kill those you despise just for being despised, just as you cannot imprison a race simply as you think they ought to be imprisoned. It is my belief that – in time – you and Thor may rule together, for you complement each other well and would prove a good match, but there is much to fear of your advice and judgement. Until you learn what it means to be a true ruler, you must not be trusted.

“This war – this child – may teach you how to be both a ruler and a man. You have already displayed an admirable self-sacrifice for the sake of your child, but the true self-sacrifice is that of a man that will put his needs after those of all others, and so far all you have done is to suit yourself. You love your daughter, so you put her first, but you put her first because it suited your want to do so . . . you gained a sense of peace and satisfaction, which makes a seemingly selfless act into a selfish one.”

“I love my daughter unconditionally. You would call me a bad father based on my absolute desire to see her come first and foremost in all things? You would accuse me of being a bad ruler out of a need to see my child happy?”

“Would you banish your daughter for the good of your realm?”

“No.”

“Would you disown your daughter for the good of your realm?”

“No.”

Odin gave a smile that seemed almost sad. It pulled at the corner of his lips just as his eye seemed to narrow almost painfully, and in that expression – one that lasted perhaps all of a second – Loki sensed great conflict. The emotion was gone almost as soon as it was expressed, instead replaced by a solemn look of detachment and objective analysis, and suddenly the man before Loki felt no longer a man at all, but a ruler first and foremost and incapable of expressing the truth of himself. Odin looked Loki in the eyes and gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement.

“A good father,” admitted Odin, “but a bad king.”

It was a difficult sentiment to accept, but one that Loki could appreciate. The truth was that Loki – after all he had endured and all he had learned – knew well what sacrifice was and the cost of ruling a realm. He could not fault his father-in-law for putting their people before all else, and yet he felt the idea of putting his daughter behind anything or anyone else appalling and reprehensible. It was admittedly selfish to put his daughter before his realm, but he could do nothing else. He loved her.

Odin was an admirable leader, but he would never agree with Loki’s method upon ruling or his new set of priorities, and yet he Loki wondered if – long ago – he would not have acted exactly as his father-in-law currently did. The truth was that his daughter had changed him by her very existence, whilst reopening old insecurities and making him reconsider what it meant to be a parent and how best to balance his duties, and suddenly he felt a strange combination of appreciation and resentment towards the man that had once been his father. He knew not how to juggle his duties as of yet, but he did know how to best balance his interests.

“Regardless,” Odin said, “we both express a compatible desire for war. It will benefit our realm, as well as test my son’s loyalties and strength, along with your worth and purpose. Do you truly think you can achieve this? Will you act as the emissary?”

“I do. I shall. It is no secret that my husband seeks to act as an emissary to assuage the minds of the Jotun and circumvent war before it begins, but it is also no secret that my magic is great and I can project my image just as well as my mother can create such projections. I need not my power of illusion, but merely time alone to meditate and concentrate, preferably with a large body of water to make the spell easier to cast. I will enter their realm before Thor arrives to talk at length to their leader.

“I believe that a few simple words will be enough to convince them to declare war and name the day of battle, at which point we can unite our realm against a common foe and stabilise our conflicted family with a steady alliance. There is another tool that I would use to secure this; I believe that with a carefully placed ‘gift’ to the Jotun ruler by Thor, it would secure their utmost trust in myself and their utter disdain with those that would rule Asgard. The Jotun may not trust me, for I have decimated sections of their race and brought ruin on their landscape, but I am also of their blood and have great reason to hate Asgard and the Allfather. They will trust me, just so long as they have reason to distrust Thor. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Odin seemed to consider this for a long moment. He looked at Loki slowly from head unto toe, only pausing to consider the swollen stomach that was set to bear the next heir at any moment, and when he looked away he did so with a harsh exhale of breath. It was clear that he thought hard about the offer presented to him, one that benefited both men and their realm also, and so he turned to look at the palace behind them. The meeting-rooms of the Allfather shimmered brightly and were almost a distraction.

“This gift that you would seek to give them . . .”

It was clear that he had caught the interest of their king, but Loki also saw that this was a discussion to be continued indoors and in guaranteed privacy. The way that Odin turned to observe the meeting rooms made it clear what he intended, especially so when he began his quick-paced stride towards the indoors, and Loki had no option but to strive to keep up. He struggled under the weight of his unborn daughter.

They entered the rooms quite quickly from the balcony, enough that it barely interrupted the movement of their discussion at all, but Loki could not help but resent this change of environment. The heat of the fire to the side of the room hit him as if he had been dropped into a realm of flames wearing nothing but furs, so that he felt a struggle for breath as the humidity of the air choked him with its density. He allowed his head to clear and tried to remain grateful that Odin allowed the doors to stay open, for he could have easily have closed them, but instead he remained conscious of Loki’s predicament, and yet it wasn’t enough to quell his discomfort.

“I trust you remember the story you taught me of our lost queen?”

“Aye,” said Odin. “I taught you that story to teach you about the tolerance of our ancestors and the union that could be yet gained between our races, and yet all you seemingly remembered were the descriptions of the monsters we fought, as if those monsters were representative of your entire race. I will admit to some prejudice, but you were the one soul that I never felt such prejudice against.”

“It matters not what lesson you sought to teach. The lesson learned was one that will suit us well, perhaps far better than any fable moral about ‘tolerance’ ever could. The truth of that tale was that our queen was a Jotun, as such her death in battle was seen as a great disservice by our kind and an act of negligence by our king, for the woman he had sworn to protect – the woman that the Jotun entrusted to us – had died whilst in our care. It mattered not that our king grieved over a lost love; for the belief was that he had only loved her as a master would a pet . . . he was indirectly responsible.

“The blade that felled her was one gifted to her by her husband on her wedding day, with the express intent that she should use it against our king should she ever feel unsafe or disrespected, and – rumour has it – she had no reason to look upon that blade during all her marriage. It is known that she was killed by this dagger, but not by whom. There are Jotun that see this as proof that she died by our king’s hands.”

“What good would it bring to gift this to the Jotun ruler?”

“Ah, that is the crux of the matter.”

Loki tried to smile, but the heat of the room and the exhaustion of his body had grown too much, to the point that his entire energy had been spent on trying to remain standing. There was a minor cramp to his stomach, enough to remind him that labour would not be many days from now, and yet he knew that he could not show weakness at such an important moment as this. He needed to convince Odin. It was vital in order to prove his worth and regain his complete freedom.

It was a relief when Odin took a seat by a large table, where he gestured to a seat opposite himself where Loki could sit. Loki took the opportunity gratefully. It would have been impossible to sit without the permission of the Allfather, but even with such permission he would have been reluctant to lower himself before another in any way, and – as such – it seemed that the Allfather had taken that consideration in mind and sat so that Loki could in turn. Loki sat awkwardly and felt grateful for the table before him, for it enabled him to spread his legs and lean on the surface, both of which provided a great relief and space for the bulge that was his unborn child.

“The story that I shall spin to Thor shall be – shall we say – ambiguous,” said Loki. “He shall believe an Asgardian queen to have been slain by a Jotun, with this dagger belonging to the Jotun and kept by our king as a battle trophy. It will spur him to present this blade to the Jotun ruler as a peace offering; he will return to them what he shall believe to be their rightful property, believing the insinuation to be that we are showing forgiveness for a great slight. To the Jotun, however . . .”

“They shall see it as a taunt. It may even be that they shall see it as an unspoken threat as to what shall happen to them, for if we could slay our queen for her Jotun blood then what does that speak of their race? It will cement their trust in you.”

“Indeed. They will follow my advice. They will declare war.”

“Aye, there would be no other choice.”

Loki gave a subtle smirk. He rested his hands upon his swollen abdomen; it was an instinctive act that had often been of benefit around Thor, who often became distracted by the bulge and took pity upon one he saw as ‘helpless’ in his new state, and had led to victory in many a disagreement. The gesture was lost upon Odin, who ignored emotional bias in favour of rational objectivity, but it did have one interesting affect upon the older man. It reminded him of the ‘choices’ forced upon Loki.

“Do you feel no empathy for your people?” Odin asked.

“Did you feel empathy for me? No, I was merely a necessary means to an end. My child cemented my relationship to Thor, whilst placating our people and stabilising our realm . . . no more, no less. This war serves a similar purpose, it is merely a means to achieve what it necessary, and as such I will take about as much pity upon them as was taken upon me. I realise that Thor will not share my views, however . . .

“It will be necessary to keep this secret from my husband. He would prevent this war and make peace with the Jotun, in which case we would both lose. I would lose my chance to secure my reputation and my freedom, both of which can only be earned in battle, and you would lose the chance to unite our realm and defeat a long-standing threat to our people. I have already made means to secure my alibi. There are natural medicines that are used to induce labour, and – if you arrange these meetings for a time when I would be due to birth my child – I may safely use them to an advantage, assuming labour does not naturally begin in that timeframe.

“You know how magic works. You know that should I be in labour that maintaining a spell will be so much more difficult, as such no one – at least with any basic understanding of magical projection – will assume that I have acted as the emissary. It will be difficult, almost impossible if I leave it too late, but I am certain that I can time it just right and present myself as emissary to the Jotun. I will speak between contractions and focus on working through the pain, and as such nature will provide an alibi that no person ever could. Even Loki cannot do the impossible, they will say.”

“There is indeed much to consider . . .”

Odin drew in a deep breath. There would not be long for him to make his decision, for the war talks had already begun and the day of battle was already being planned, and so any delays would be detrimental to their men and their preparations. He gave a stern look to Loki, as if he tried to ascertain whether it would be best to agree to his proposition or ignore it entirely. There was only one course of action and Loki knew this, and – as such – he knew that Odin had no choice but to agree.

“Very well, Loki.”

He stood slowly and purposely from his seat, so that Loki felt compelled to stand also out of respect. The very action was a difficult one, which caused him to place both hands upon the table for leverage, and he felt a deep ache in his joints as he rose. It would be a relief to finally leave these rooms, for Thor had kindly made their own much cooler with the reason that it would be easier for Thor to warm up than it would be for Loki to cool down, and – as such – he felt desperate to return to his space.

“The guards shall bring the dagger to your rooms within this evening,” said Odin. “I trust you shall hide it well until Thor returns and you find an appropriate moment to present it to him. You will also act as emissary before Thor. Talk of this to no one.”

“How sweet, you think that someone would believe me.”

“There is no one better at keeping secrets.”

It was a great insult, but Loki bore it well. The truth was that Loki was famed for his duplicitous tongue and mischievous nature, so he could understand the subtle attacks upon his character and lack of trust, but he felt grateful that the trust was so thin. It was true that they may no longer believe his lies, but that only meant it was necessary to change his tactics somewhat. He had found it easier than ever to manipulate those around him as of late, simply because he was able to use their distrust . . .

He only hoped that one day he could reveal all to Thor, that perhaps their relationship would evolve past such trickery, for he wanted them to stand as true equals, but for now he would do what was needed in order to secure his place and his daughter’s. Odin walked around the table and stood beside him, where – as if sensing the other’s presence – his daughter kicked him quite hard from inside. Loki brought his hand to the spot just beneath his ribs, as he wondered if her new positioning indicated an inevitable labour, but Odin distracted him by placing his hand over his. It was paternal and sincere. It was as if he sought to remind Loki of his true duty. 

“Do what you must, Loki.”