Archive of Our Own

It all started, as many such stories do, with a mistake.

And perhaps, in time, Thor would admit that he’d been at least partially to blame. Perhaps he might even concede that sneaking up on his brother while he’d been so obviously focused on the web of mother-of-pearl-white enchantments weaving and pulsing between his fingers had been… unwise. Eventually he might even agree that Loki had every right to cast aspersions on his intellectual capacities using every insult known to the Aesir, in alphabetical order.

Perhaps.

It was rather challenging to be so magnanimous now. For one thing, Thor’s ears were still ringing after the explosion of silent, blindingly golden light, the afterimages of which he was still blinking away from his eyes. His thoughts, running in circles, were desperately laboring to make sense of the last few seconds, but it was no use – the images of Loki calling his name, and then the sensation of magic licking along his legs, and then those breathless few seconds of panic before his brother had kicked him none-too-gently off the pier and into the sea – all of it was too jumbled, too quick, to order itself into coherence.

Besides, there was one more thing occupying his attention at the moment. Because apparently something in the explosion decided to give him a long, bright golden fish tail.

With fins.

It was flapping now, up and down, big and heavy, splashing salty seawater every which way. Thor was only vaguely aware of that. He was too busy yelling at Loki, with Loki yelling right back.

“ – fool – no idea – no sense under all that blond hair whatsoever –“

“What have you done?” Thor demanded, holding onto the wood of the pier with all the strength in his bare arms. “Brother, reverse it, reverse the spell now!”

“Do you even realize what you have interrupted?!” Loki’s face was twisted in a familiar snarl, one that heralded one of his more spectacular temper tantrums. “Do you realize what could have happened?! You should know better than to sneak up on a seidr master, but no, you think yourself invincible, you think you can just barge right in with no regard for –“

Thor concentrated. Up above them, a single flash of lightning tore the sky right open. Loki shut up, stared at the sky with his mouth going slack, and then looked back to Thor, green eyes twin reflections of the storm brewing up above.

“Loki,” Thor rumbled, allowing the thunder to carry in his voice. “You will reverse the spell, will you not?”

Loki huffed, resting his hands on his hips in a pose he usually employed when he felt out of sorts. Thor let the lightning die down. He wouldn’t have called for it at all, but Loki had been well on his way into a good tangent, and once he got one going there was no stopping him until he ran out of steam on his own. Thor had no mind to wait that long, not when –

As if in tune with his thoughts, the tail splashed again.

“My point stands,” Loki said coldly. “Even the mighty Thor must learn not to interrupt the practicing of arts he will never comprehend. The spell rebounded and, Norns only know why, latched itself onto your presence. I will not be held responsible for your foolhardiness.”

Thor tried valiantly not to roll his eyes, knowing full well that it would only antagonize Loki more and maybe even encourage him to keep Thor in his current – predicament – a little longer. “Please, brother, you can lecture me later. The hunt is well underway and I will miss its conclusion if you do not hurry.”

“Then you should not have detoured to harass me with your idiocy, should you?” Loki’s eyes were still cold as he regarded Thor from above. “Still,” he sighed, “I will not take the blame for robbing you of the possibility of yet another scrap of glory. Stay still.”

Thor nodded, managing not to murmur As if I was going anywhere. No, he had no intention of letting go of the pier and falling into the water. There was no telling what could happen. He wasn’t even sure if he could control the tail, since it seemed to be flapping with no consultation with his will whatsoever. The weight of it was alien and uncomfortable, and he kept wanting to move his legs only to realize that they were not there to be moved, and Hela’s tits if that wasn’t quite the oddest thing to have happened to him in the last five hundred years.

So he held on, watching intently as his brother bent his head over the ancient, dog-eared tome he’d had spread open at his feet before the ritual backfired. Loki’s face remained cold yet animated with exasperation as he mouthed some words, splaying his long fingers in what Thor now recognized as his basic mage stance. He seemed to be rehearsing a spell, lips moving along the words over and over, and as he did so, a worried crease cracked along his forehead and deepened with every passing minute.

And Thor might not be a great scholar of seidr, but he had had enough years of watching his brother under his belt to think himself a scholar of Loki, and he could recognize that worried crease well enough. It meant that whatever it was Loki read on the dusty pages, it wasn’t good.

Sure enough, eventually Loki looked up at him with the frown crease deepened into a veritable trench.

“I can’t,” he said.

The tail flapped again. This time the splash was big enough to send a spray of seawater into Loki’s serious face.

“I can’t reverse it,” Loki repeated, louder this time, meeting Thor’s eyes with his stormy green. “I have not the ingredients.”

“This is not the time for jest, brother,” Thor warned. “If you intend to play a trick on me with this lie –“

“’Tis no lie, you imbecile,” Loki snapped, and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes did a good job of convincing Thor of his sincerity. “I cannot reverse the spell because the ritual requires, among other things, the pearls such as can be only found in the depths of the Hverfa Sea. Which I had hoped to use on myself before you tumbled down onto this beach and ruined everything.”

Thor frowned, refusing to raise to the bait. “But surely if you intended to perform the ritual at all you must have had the ingredients on hand? You did not intend to stay in this merman form permanently, did you?” A doubt sparked at the back of Thor’s mind, and he added, more pointedly, “Did you?”

Loki scoffed as though the mere idea was absurd. It was somewhat relieving. “No, of course I didn’t!” he bit back, snapping the tome shut and sending specks of dust to swirl mournfully in the air. “As if I’d want to live out my days as some lesser sea creature trapped in those cold waters with nothing but dolphins for entertainment. Honestly, brother. But the explosion was never meant to happen. And my ingredients…”

He trailed off, looking down at his feet. Thor followed his gaze.

In the magic circle, drawn on the wood of the pier in Loki’s green magic lines, set up in an elaborate pattern, the ingredients – or whatever was left of them – sat smoking in a sad pile of charred unidentifiable bits. Thor’s stomach sunk, and then kept right on sinking when he saw the three gleaming pearls at the very centre of this construction.

All three of them were cracked open.

“Oh,” Thor said.

“Yes, oh,” Loki repeated. “They were caught right in the middle of it. I can no longer use any of those ingredients, not damaged as they are. Have you any idea how much money and effort I had poured into obtaining them all in the first place?”

Thor did not have any idea, nor did he care. Not with the uncomfortable twist of panic tightening in his gut. “But this is not right,” he protested, clinging to the wood of the pier as one would to a lifeline. “Why would you even want to turn yourself thus in the first place? Why not simply shape-shift, as you usually do?”

Loki crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at Thor as though Thor was all of five years old and asking him why the stars shone in the sky.

“You really don’t know anything about it, do you,” he whispered with dark astonishment.

“You know full well I don’t,” Thor bit back, growing irritated on top of everything else. “You are the sorcerer between us, brother, not I. Now kindly explain. I know you well enough to know how much you love the sound of your own voice.”

“Pot, kettle,” Loki murmured. His face grew grimmer with every passing second. “The ritual was necessary because I cannot simply shift my shape into a form that isn’t mine.”

Thor frowned at that. “But what about all the times –“

“I can shift easily between forms that represent me,” Loki explained impatiently. “Animals, creatures, people I know, new faces I fashion for myself, things that are a part of my being. If I find the essence of the change within myself, I can perform it eventually. But there is a difference between transforming your whole being into another and choosing to change only a part of yourself. It requires focus and precision, much like hitting a mouse in the far field instead of a frost giant charging right at you. It requires – direction. The nature of the merfolk, especially the Vanir ones living in these waters, is not widely known on Asgard, so on top of the difficulties inherent in transforming only a part of myself, I needed a guiding force to ground the magic in what it was supposed to achieve. As I need it to guide it back. The whole thing is even more difficult when performed on another. Without the ingredients, all I can do is gather you some seaweed to chew on and wish you luck on your doubtless great and plentiful new adventures as Thor the Mighty Merman.”

“But you can get more, can you not?” Thor asked, clinging to the thin hope just like his arms were clinging to the pier.

Loki looked at him with an expression that seemed calm, but his eyes betrayed him, crushing that hope even before his words could. “I will – see,” he said slowly. “Though I doubt the merchant who sold me these will have any more. The rest I can obtain easily enough, but the pearls are a rarity forbidden in most markets in the Nine Realms. This will take time.”

Thor swore under his breath. He’d abandoned all hope of returning to the hunt anytime soon, but he had hoped –

“How long?” he asked Loki.

Loki looked away.

“I will require at least a day to scour the Vanir black markets,” he said. “I will return by sundown tomorrow.”

“And what am I to do in the meantime?” Thor asked desperately.

Loki met his gaze, and now, now Thor could see the familiar twinkle of mischief sparking to life under the somber veil.

“Learn to swim,” his brother advised before turning away and striding down the pier back to the beach.

And so Thor was left alone to choose between the humiliation of being seen in this new form as he clung to the pier for dear life, or the unknown.

The tail splashed one last time as he let go.

***

“Thor!” Loki’s voice skittered like a stone across the silent, empty water. “Thor!!”

Nothing. Which was just fantastic.

Loki ran an exasperated hand over his face and called again, and when that failed to produce anything other than more silence, he decided to resort to other means. It had been a day already and if the big dumb oaf managed to get his stupid self drowned now…

The faint glimmering string of magic, feeding on the lock of Thor’s hair Loki always kept in his pouch for just such an occasion as this, shot out into the far horizon, chasing the trace of Thor’s essence until it latched onto its target and tightened like a drum. Ah, good. So his brother wasn’t dead, but already off gallivanting somewhere and doubtless getting himself in trouble in the process. Loki knew it wouldn’t take Thor too long to adjust to his new situation – it wasn’t like the witless oaf ever remained bothered by something for long if he could turn it into an adventure instead – but he was hoping to at least find him here waiting for news.

Not that the news was any good. But still.

Loki sighed, snapped his fingers to dissolve his clothes into thin air, and jumped into the water.

His pale skin turned to handsome silvery scales before he even broke the surface.

He’d meant what he’d told Thor the other day – it was much easier to change his whole being instead of just a select part of his body. He’d inhabited the salmon form often enough that by now he could do it with just a thought, and hardly sparing any of his magical strength on the act, simply because this shiny, scaly skin was so comfortable. So easy. Slick and agile, and strong against the currents, Loki immediately launched himself after the line of green before his thoughts started to run more sluggishly, before the instincts of this other body started to overtake his own.

That was one of the first lessons a shapeshifter learned – never stay in any form too long. The form moulded the content, much like a liquid poured into a glass inevitably took on the glass’s shape. It was all too easy to lose your own mind, your own sense of self, here in the mysterious watery depths or up there in the freedom of the sky, or –

There.

He felt more than saw, with his salmon eye, the strong, unmistakable presence of his brother tugging insistently on the string of magic, and he let his fish body speed up towards it along the guiding light of his seidr. He was close, and getting closer still. Loki contemplated changing back into his own body before reaching Thor, but just as his mind formed the first shadow of the spell-thought, he spotted a different shadow, a physical one, blurry but oblong and deep, and –

A boat.

Loki slowed down, mindful of any nets, though who would be still sailing out there at this time of evening, even in Vanaheim, was beyond him.

And then he heard their voices.

Ah.

Loki could not grit his teeth in this form, not effectively anyway, but his instincts had him clenching his new frail scaly flesh to the point of pain anyway. Of course they would be here, they who were everywhere these days, and of course they’d meddle in this affair too just as they meddled in everything else…

There was nothing for it. Loki let out a sigh and sent the mage-thought to travel down his body. Within a blink he was back in his own skin, his clothes appearing light without the heavy armor, and swimming patiently towards the light of the surface.

He broke it just in time to see his brother laughing as though he had not a care in the world, holding on to the edge of the slim wooden boat, his tail swishing gracefully this way and that just as his friends laughed along with him.

“Ahem.” Loki cleared his throat, letting magic propel him up and onto the tip of the boat’s ornamented bow, where he balanced gracefully. “I trust I am not interrupting?”

“Loki!” Thor called out, looking disturbingly delighted to see him.

Fandral, Hogun, Volstagg and Sif echoed the greeting, looking rather less so.

“Well met, Warriors Three, my lady Sif,” Loki said formally, crouching on his perch on the tip of the bow. “What brings you here?”

“Your brother, as usual,” Sif murmured, gracing him with one of her famous suspicious glares. Loki smiled. The glare appeared in his presence so often he’d rather started to think of it as a friend. “We came looking for him after he disappeared during the hunt and found him – like this.”

“Racing the dolphins as though he was born to it,” Fandral added, teeth flashing in the same dazzling smile that had earned him his nickname. “And winning!”

“Behold, Liesmith,” Volstagg boomed, apparently very pleased with himself, and stepped back so Loki could properly see three buckets full of large, supple, wriggling fish. “The haul we brought in thanks to your brother. There shall be feasting in the Vanir halls tonight!”

He rubbed his ample belly with a flourish, as if promising it culinary wonders before long. Loki wrinkled his nose.

“No wonder the boat stinks,” he murmured. Turned to Thor. “I see you found a way to occupy yourself after all.”

Thor, as ever immune to irony, only beamed at him. “Aye,” he said. “This form is most convenient. After you’d gone I resolved to learn the tricks of it and soon found out what good sport it is to swim among the sea creatures like one of them. I see now why you intended to change yourself in this way, Loki.”

“Yes, that is all very well.” Loki rubbed his hands together. “And I am glad that you find this new body so pleasing, brother, for I am afraid you will have to suffer it for a few days more.”

On the other side of the boat, Sif scoffed as though she’d been expecting this very answer. Maybe she had. She’d always been a suspicious one, and rightly so. Loki let his smile stretch.

“You mean you haven’t found the pearls?” Thor asked, his expression crumbling.

“No.” Loki shrugged. “I warned you it might be so. The ones I’d ordered were the very last in stock and the merchant refused to send his men to obtain more. I can’t say I blame him. The journey is as long as it is perilous. The merfolk of Vanaheim do not take kindly to theft.”

And now all he had to do was sit back and wait. The bait had been dangled, and if he knew his brother at all…

“Then why not make it ourselves?” Thor slowly lit up with the prospect of yet another adventure. “Brother, do you know the way?”

“I do,” Loki said slowly, taking care not to smile. “And I know enough to be aware of the many obstacles we would have to face. The kingdom of the merfolk is not without guard, Thor. I should say there would be a seamonster or two at the very least.”

Thor’s eyes lit up. That was when Loki knew he had won.

“You will not make this journey alone,” Sif said suddenly, her face hard. She was glaring at Loki. “How do we know it’s not one of his tricks? He might abandon you at the mercy of the merfolk at the first opportunity.”

Loki almost wanted to clap. It was all he could do to keep his bitter laughter in as it was. “And why, pray tell, would I do that, fair Sif?” he asked impatiently. “Thor is my brother. I love him no less than any of you.”

“So you say,” Sif bit back, still glaring.

Loki didn’t smile, but it was a near thing.

“Well, I thought it obvious we’d be going too,” Fandral interrupted. “Where Thor goes, we go!”

“Aye, and I have never seen a mermaid in my life,” Volstagg added wistfully. “Naturally no maid, mer or otherwise, can rival my beloved wife in beauty, but even so…” His eyes sparkled.

This time, Loki couldn’t quite keep his snarl in check. They were ruining everything.

“If we do find the kingdom of the merfolk,” he said sourly, “everything will hinge on extremely delicate negotiations. You will be of no help there. If anything, I’m afraid you would hinder the proceedings with your natural instinct to charge at everything in sight if it so much as blinks at you.”

“We are not leaving Thor in your care,” Sif said. “Not in his current state.”

“You are forgetting, dear Sif, all the times Thor and I adventured together without any of you to watch my brother’s back,” Loki reminded her. “And yet he still lives.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That much is clear.”

“The mermaids!” Volsatagg insisted, and the cry was snatched eagerly by Fandral.

“Aye, the mermaids!”

“Anyway, Thor wants us to go with you, does he not?”

“No,” said Thor.

All heads turned to him.

“No, I do not,” he repeated. He was looking between Loki and the others with a strange, somewhat wistful, softening expression, and his blue eyes shone with resolution. “I am sorry, my friends,” he said in a louder voice, turning an apologetic gaze to Sif and the Warriors Three. “I appreciate your friendship, as always, and am most grateful for your declarations of help. But I will be safe with my brother.” Here he turned to look at Loki again, and his small, tender smile grazed something soft and vulnerable in Loki’s chest, a part he’d forgotten to hide. “I trust him.”

Fool, Loki wanted to say, mocking. The word didn’t quite make it out.

“Aye, you two should journey alone,” said Hogun quietly.

“Hogun!” Sif sounded betrayed, and Loki didn’t blame her. He was feeling rather off-kilter himself.

Hogun stared at him calmly, his expression blank. “How long has it been since your last adventure together?” he asked, ignoring Sif’s outrage.

Thor was nodding along so furiously his head might just fall off. “Exactly,” he said. “Far too long. I cannot even remember. We must make it right. Loki and I will travel to the kingdom of the merfolk alone.”

“I do not like this, Thor,” Sif admonished, her face grim.

“Come now, Sif.” Thor turned to her. “Loki is a prince of Asgard, as am I. We have faced worse together, and my brother’s tricks have always been harmless.”

“Harmless,” Sif echoed, turning to glare at Loki again and no doubt remembering a certain incident in which a knife and her previously golden hair were involved.

Some people really didn’t know how to let things go.

Still, Loki felt his muscles unwinding as he skipped from the decorated head of the bow down into the boat. It was all but done.

“I suppose we must console ourselves with the land-bound beauties of Vanaheim,” Fandral complained in a tragic tone.

“I will make it up to you,” Thor promised.

“You had better, princeling,” Volstagg huffed. “There better be tales of this adventure told masterfully by the fire when you come back!”

“I shall weave them into song myself,” Loki promised with a fresh, budding smile, far warmer than any he’d worn in years.

“Very well then.” Volstagg adjusted the belt on his voluminous person. “Let us swim back to shore and prepare the feast. The fish won’t keep for long and my stomach demands to be fed.”

“You go,” Loki said, “and my brother and I will set off at once.”

“What, now?” Fandral looked puzzled. “But you need to prepare! You don’t have any rations, nor weapons, nor –“

“Everything I require, I keep on my person,” Loki retorted.

Fandral looked him up and down, raising a pointed eyebrow. Loki smiled and snapped his fingers, and the mist of seidr solidified into his armor at once. “A sorcerer needs not burden himself with luggage,” he said sweetly. “And my brother has no need for anything he himself cannot hunt for. We’ll be fine.”

“What about a map?” Sif asked sharply. “Need a sorcerer not burden himself with those, too?”

Loki let his smile turn even sweeter as he rubbed his palms against one another, summoning the map he’d obtained weeks ago from his own private pocket dimension.

“See?” Thor pointed enthusiastically, beaming with something that looked alarmingly like pride. “We are well-equipped. We can set off at once.”

“There’s still the small matter of us returning to shore,” Fandral pointed out.

“And transporting our delicious cargo,” Volstagg added.

Loki sighed and let his eyes wander for something to transfigure, finally settling on a piece of rope. “Set this in the water,” he ordered, passing the rope to Hogun, who accepted it wordlessly, as was his way.

Loki looked at the floating rope, concentrated, splayed his fingers and felt for the cracks in the fabric of reality, then gently nudged them open and pushed –

“Well,” said Fandral after a beat of silence. “I suppose it’ll do.”

“It will serve you well on the short trip back to shore,” Loki explained, pointing to the newly-conjured magic-boat with a grand gesture of his hand. “By midnight tonight it will revert to its original form. That is why we need the real thing. Now hop on.”

They hesitated, looking between themselves as if for reassurance. Loki let his smile grow. “Why, it’s almost as if you don’t trust me.”

Sif’s glare was as steady and unflinching as her famous battle-stance. “We don’t.”

Loki sketched her a bow.

“Come now,” Thor interrupted, looking amused. “I’m sure Loki does not mean to drown you.”

“Well, that’s certainly… reassuring,” said Fandral, looking over the magic-boat with a dubious expression.

Still, it was he who finally took the first leap and landed safely on the solid conjured wood, and soon the others followed, testing the deck under their feet with expressions so skeptical Loki was almost tempted to vanish the boat from under them just to indulge their suspicions. But that would be more trouble than it was worth and he was in no mood to tolerate more of Sif’s accusations. Instead, he contented himself with levitating the buckets of fish after them and accidentally-on-purpose spilling one over Volstagg’s head.

That earned him a laugh not only from Thor, but also from Fandral and Volstagg himself, with Hogun’s mouth cracking up by the barest fraction and Sif rolling her eyes impatiently.

“You will return him safe and in one piece,” she ordered Loki, pointing at him with the tip of her blade. How positively droll.

“He will,” Hogun said before Loki could even open his mouth to deliver a scathing rejoinder. Their eyes met. “He knows what will happen if he doesn’t,” the warrior added, and Loki, recognizing the words for what they were, inclined his head in Hogun’s direction. He’d never expected to get even this much endorsement from any of Thor’s adoring gaggle, and this, he could respect.

Then, he clapped his hands, because there was only so much posturing one could endure before supper after all. “Now,” he announced brightly, “we’ve wasted quite enough time. Enjoy your trip back to shore. Thor, dear brother, I expect you to keep up.”

And, with another clap, he whispered a word that solidified into green mist to propel the boat he’d made himself comfortable in, at a speed comparable to that of Asgard’s finest air gliders. And not a moment too soon, because not a heartbeat later he heard Volstagg’s deep-belly rumble splitting the twilight with his name like a curse.

So they figured out they had no oars, then.

Loki grinned and let the boat glide on across the waves and into the setting sun.

***

Thor had meant what he’d told Loki and his friends – swimming like this was fun.

It had taken him some time to adjust to not having legs, true, and his first moments in the water had been punctuated by rather graceless, desperate flailing. He’d been forced to abandon Mjolnir on the shore, too, because wielding it underwater felt much like trying to move in tar. But then something had – happened. Thor could not be sure what exactly had shifted in his brain, or in his instincts, what had taken over and convinced his body to behave in this new way, but it had felt not unlike the moment when he had first truly understood the secret to riding a horse. A spark of clarity, like a single candle lit in a dark room, had burned in his mind, giving him pause. Suddenly he’d known that he could now breathe underwater – courtesy of the strange gill-like shapes that sprang along his ears and neck the moment he’d dunked his head under the surface, no doubt – and that the most natural and obvious thing to do had been to will his tail into a slow, up and down motion.

And it had worked.

From there it had only been a matter of – admittedly grueling – practice to master the secrets of turning, going back, speeding up and so on, and once he’d trained enough to move underwater without having to think about his every move…

Well, from then on, he had started to appreciate just why Loki might have wanted to perform this change on himself.

Because swimming like this was unlike anything he had enjoyed before. Thor had always been a good swimmer, strong and fast, and he’d always liked the feeling of cold water refreshing his sore muscles; but it was air, not water, that had always been his element. He’d never felt at home in any sea or lake or river, nor had he wanted to, and he’d always treated the beauties of the depths rather like one might treat visits to great abandoned, historical palaces – with some degree of interest, but ultimately knowing it was but a short, passing visit.

But now?

Now, he could read the currents. He could see their breezy hands grasping along, much like he could read the wind on land. He beheld the strange, new world of the Vanir depths with eyes not clouded or stinging from water, and the rich, vast colors took his breath away. Now, he could see the careful order of life underwater, and read the silent language of the creatures dwelling here, creatures no less strange and fantastical than the imaginary beasts born of Midgardian imagination. And instead of fleeing from him as they normally would, those creatures either ignored him or approached him with interest, mistaking him for one of their own.

Thor could race them, laugh with them, breathe water with them and appreciate everything with a whole new set of eyes, and it was – exhilarating.

With time, he’d even gotten used to the odd, uncomfortable tingling sensation of his gills knitting themselves back into his skin every time he broke the surface, and he all but ignored them now that he once again swam up to check on Loki.

His brother was sitting in the magically-propelled boat, intent on the map spread over his lap and absently reaching into a small bag for bits of dried fruit to chew on as he thought. Thor looked up at him with fondness, easily keeping pace with the now slower-moving boat; Loki had always had a weakness for sweet things.

“Brother,” he called softly, “have you any of those fruits to spare?”

Loki looked up at him, brows still knitted in concentration. “I do not believe they will agree with your new digestive system,” he said quietly. “If you’re hungry, you’ll have better luck with seaweed.”

Thor winced. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to test this theory quite so soon, or better yet, at all.

“You might also try to hunt for some of the smaller fish,” Loki suggested. “As I understand it, the merfolk can be quite predatory.”

“Aye, that might be more agreeable.” Thor smiled. “Are we getting any closer?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “We have indeed gotten closer than when you last asked me that question, Thor, but that does not mean much. There’s still miles for us to travel.”

“Oh.”

His brother gave him a curious look. “I thought you enjoyed this new body.”

“I do,” Thor assured him. “It is remarkable how different the world looks now that I am looking at it from a whole new perspective, and I intend to enjoy it fully while it lasts. I do hope that it will not last forever, though.”

Loki smiled and said nothing, bending once more over his map.

Thor allowed him a few more minutes of silence, floating easily alongside the boat with his head over the surface, and watched with interest when his brother suddenly moved his hand and conjured a silver cup, into which he then gathered some seawater. There was a faint glow of seidr over the cup, and a moment later Loki downed the newly-transformed contents with relish, as though there was not a hint of salt in the water he’d drunk.

Perhaps there wasn’t, anymore.

The sight stirred something in Thor’s mind, a memory, and he glanced at the green mist steering the boat for his brother for the first time with new, slowly dawning understanding.

“You’ve been using a lot of magic tonight,” he said quietly.

“I have. What of it?” Loki still didn’t look up from his map.

“Nothing.” Thor shook his head, then ran a hand over his wet hair to keep it from falling over his eyes. “But, Loki… I remember how, when we were children, you would require hours of sleep after performing as much as two simple spells in a row. And now here you are, expelling all that magical energy and looking none the worse for wear.”

This prompted Loki to look up and regard him with that guarded, closed-up expression Thor had been treated to most often over the recent years. He’d never liked it when Loki looked at him like that. It reminded him of the… rift, that had been growing ever bigger since the day Thor had first started his lessons on kingship with Father. It reminded him that Loki now had secrets that Thor wasn’t privy to; that he was embarking on long, mysterious journeys on his own, and learning the mysteries of the Nine Realms, perfecting his art, growing, in ways Thor could no longer predict nor understand.

And the knowledge, when Thor had the mind to dwell on it, hurt.

“Yes, well.” Loki glanced back at the magic mist pushing him onwards. “I have grown a lot more powerful since we were children, Thor, even if you’ve been too wrapped up in your own glorious life to notice.”

He sounded stung. Thor swam closer to the boat and held on to the side.

“I noticed,” he said.

Loki’s sharp eyes landed on him. “Have you really.”

“Yes,” Thor assured him, and meant it.

Of course he’d noticed. They may be seeing much less of each other now, and both had the tendency to disappear on their own quests for months at a time, but every now and then Thor did catch glimpses of Loki practicing his art – in the garden with Mother, in the Great Hall to entertain the guests, in the arena against frustrated opponents, in some remote, solitary place where Thor happened to pass by chance – and it had always left him with that strange tug of awe, love and melancholy.

In growing up, they had grown apart. It was only natural, them being as different as night and day, and Thor didn’t think much on it most of the time; he had his friends, after all, and his duties to keep him occupied. But those glimpses always gave him pause, driving home just how big the distance between them had grown without him ever noticing, and he’d often sought Loki out after those moments to spend time with him, just like they had used to do. But Loki, distant and guarded, had always had an excuse, and seemed all too eager to disappear from Thor’s presence, and that had only made the rift bigger so eventually Thor stopped trying.

Until the pier. Until the familiar glow of Loki’s magics had lured Thor away from the thrill of the hunt, and had inspired him to try one more time; to engage Loki in conversation, ask about his art, maybe even entice him to join them in the hunt.

But maybe it was better this way. Thor had noticed how reluctant Loki had been to let Thor’s friends join them on this quest, and suddenly it had been clear, and suddenly Thor had wanted just one more solitary adventure with his mischievous brother, even if it was to be their last one.

So he held Loki’s strange, guarded gaze, and smiled when his brother was the first to look away with a scoff that was as exaggerated as many of Loki’s various acts. This, at least, Thor could still read in him, even if Loki’s other, darker moods had grown increasingly inscrutable to him over the years.

“My endurance has grown, too,” Loki explained, almost reluctantly, tension pulling his cheeks taut. “That’s what happens when a mage gains knowledge and power. Otherwise nothing would ever get done and we’d spend all our time lying about being useless.”

“Mother says that magic always comes at a price,” Thor remembered.

“Ah. Yes.” Loki glanced back at Thor, then away. “And are you concerned about me, then?”

Thor held on to the side of the boat. “I might be.”

That tugged the corner of Loki’s mouth into a smile, as humorless as the one Father sometimes wore when he was the only one to understand the irony.

“No need,” he said lightly, dismissively, which only made Thor frown at him deeper. “Mother is right, of course, and there is always a price to pay, but it’s one I have grown… used to paying.”

“What is it, then?”

Loki’s smile only grew, bitter and secretive, and he said nothing.

And so Thor let go, sensing the darkness growing ever thicker around his brother, and swam alongside the boat on his own in silence for a few heartbeats. But he never did like darkness, and saw no reason to keep his thoughts secret even if Loki was determined to hide his, and after a while he spoke again.

“Brother, I would…” He searched for the right words, Loki’s curious gaze a heavy weight on him. “I would spend more time with you,” he said at length.

That pulled a snort out of Loki, cruel and derisive, and Thor felt his blood run hotter. “I would,” he insisted, “make no jest of it. You are ever on your own of late, and I find that I miss your wit and advice, no matter how scathingly given.”

“Believe me, brother, you would tire of my company soon enough,” Loki said with that same, bitter half-smile. “As you usually do.”

Thor swam up to grip the side of the boat again. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Loki sighed, bending once more over his map. “It means, my dear Thor, that you and I are meant for very different things, as you are always so keen to remind me. I do not imagine you will have much time to idle away your days with the humble likes of me once you are crowned the All-Father of the Nine Realms.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Thor protested, blood running hotter still. “I do not understand where this poison comes from. You were never shunned, and if we have grown apart, it wasn’t through –“

“If you truly believe that you are as blind as you are foolish,” Loki said quietly.

“Loki.”

“What?!” Now his brother’s gaze snapped to him with the green of his eyes growing stormy once more, as if the pretence of calm had been stripped away from them like a film. “What would you have me be? I will not be moulded in your image, Thor, for I am not you. I will never be. I can only ever be that which I was shaped and destined for, and since yours was the hand that did much of the shaping, you have no grounds to complain when suddenly I appear not as you’d like me to be.”

And that had Thor letting go of the boat again, the agitated movements of his tail taking him away, his thoughts now turning cold. Not with dread of his brother, but with the realization that apparently what he’d taken for a rift had been a canyon all along.

“I don’t understand,” he said, truthfully.

Loki laughed. It was a dark, hateful sound, so unlike the lighter mockery of the laughter Thor remembered that something cold and bitter curled in his stomach in response.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you,” Loki shook his head. “The Mighty Thor was never plagued with doubt. The Mighty Thor has no need for it, not the golden son, not the apple of the All-Father’s eye, not when –“

Thor should have felt it. Should have sensed the presence of the creature creeping up on them from the depths, and should have been ready. But he’d been too intent on Loki’s words, too angry, too hurt, and so he suspected nothing when Loki’s angry bile was suddenly drowned in a roar that seemed to shake the ocean floor itself.

The monster, when it broke the surface with its stinking maw wide open and sharp with rows upon rows of sword-pointed teeth the size of Thor’s whole body, swayed in the air for a moment, regarding them from its great, green-scaled serpentine head. The silence ran cold with the echo of its cry and Thor’s own beating heart.

“Thor,” said Loki quietly, “don’t even think about calling for Mjolnir and summoning lightning. It will fry everything within reaching distance and that includes both of us.”

“I have no other weapon,” Thor mouthed back, ears full of drumming adrenaline.

“No,” Loki agreed out of the corner of his mouth. “You shall have to leave this to me.”

“Brother –“

The sea serpent lunged.

“Conjure me a weapon, Loki!” Thor roared even as his tail beat heavily under the surface, taking him away from the boat.

Or what remained of it. A blink later the beast snapped it in half with its teeth, turning it into a shower of splinters.

And Loki was nowhere to be seen.

Thor had no time to so much as cry his name again before the beast reared back up and searched with a pair of slitted, yellow eyes for its next target. A heartbeat later he was diving out of the way from the sleek, massive body, which, underwater, coiled and undulated as far as the eye could see. He had but his fists to rely on, water slowing him down, and the tail could only get him so far so fast before the beast caught up to him…

Only it didn’t.

Instead, another roar sent terrible ripples to mar the uneasy waters, and among the shadows crowding overheard Thor spotted the telling gleam of green.

Loki.

Heart slamming in his neck, Thor willed his tail to take him back to the surface as quickly as possible, and the first thing he saw was his brother straddling the head of the beast, one hand pulling at its maw with a yoke of seidr while the other, held high and steady, gripped the hilt of a gleaming dagger.

There was a flash of steel. A splash as the monster writhed furiously, trying to shake its rider off. And a cry when the dagger drove hilt-deep into the very centre of the serpent’s eye.

Thor had to dive out of the way of the madly flailing body, and it was only thanks to the strength of his tail that he wasn’t thrown backwards along with the new furious currents. It caused him to miss the immediate aftermath of Loki’s daring action, but when he resurfaced he saw his brother still perched on top of the beast and driving the dagger – the blade now long enough to be a sword – time and time again into the head beneath him.

That alone would have told Thor the battle was already over, even without the fountains of blood-slime spurting from every new wound. The creature had to be in its death-throes. It trashed and trashed and trashed, its terrible roars shaking the air as it went, and sure enough, soon, it was toppling down into the water, Loki balancing on top of it and holding onto the weapon wedged deep into the top of the serpent’s head.

Just before the dead creature broke the surface Loki cast a spell that severed the head clean from the rest of the serpentine body, and while the heavy headless carcass sunk into the depths, the morbid trophy stayed afloat, bleeding steadily into the ocean.

Thor looked at his brother. Loki looked back.

He was grinning, but it was the sort of grin Hela herself could wear at the eve of Ragnarok. The serpent’s stinking gore left oozing stains all over his armor, hair and skin. His hands shone with the slickness of the scales he’d touched in order to hold on to the beast. And his eyes…

Thor now understood that he hadn’t truly grasped the extent of the darkness Loki had embraced until he saw it lurking in this feverish gaze, gleaming from the joy of the kill that appeared far too grim, far too alien, to in any way resemble the joy Thor knew from his own hunts. No, those eyes were smiling not at the thrill of bringing down a mighty prey, but at some personal morbid joke that only Loki understood, and the gaze sent shivers down Thor’s spine and all the way down to the fins of his golden tail.

He’d known Loki could be a formidable opponent in battle if he had the mind to be. What he hadn’t known was that Loki could be terrifying.

“Well.” Loki let go of the blade he’d been using for purchase, stood up on the grotesquely floating head and nonchalantly rubbed his hands against one another to rid them of the sticky blood. “That was rather fortunate, don’t you think? I’ll definitely have a use for those scales in the future. Ah, and the teeth. I can use those too.”

The flippant tone helped Thor gather his thoughts back together. He examined the severed head, then swam closer to scoop some of the gore contaminating the seasurface between his fingers. It stuck to them like tree sap, thick and glistening.

He looked back to Loki. “It was bravely fought, brother.”

“Oh, do you think so?” Loki’s smile changed into something less feral. When he snapped his fingers to disappear the blood from his clothes, he looked almost pleased. “Did my use of brute force finally meet with your approval?”

“I – “ Loki’s earlier words came rushing back to him, and Thor frowned. He’d think on them later. For now, he settled on, “I have never seen you fight like this before.”

“Yes, well.” Loki plopped gracefully down on top of the slimy head, his long legs dangling over the water as he propped his elbow on one knee, nonchalant as you please. “As we’ve already established, I have changed and grown somewhat over the course of my travels. You prefer to toy with your game; I have since learned the benefits of killing it quickly.”

This made Thor scoff, and he playfully splashed some of the blood-stained water at his brother. “If I remember correctly, you were always the one to drag out the kill the longest, much like a cat playing with its food,” he told Loki brightly, the heaviness of the mood lifting at the memory. “You were ever a fan of gloating when you had the upper hand.”

When Loki met his gaze again, Thor rejoiced to see that his eyes settled into their usual calm, playful green, and even sparkled with a light he hadn’t seen there in far too long. “That’s because gloating is fun,” he informed Thor. “As I’m sure you know. You’re rather adept at it yourself.”

And Thor had a rejoinder for that, by Odin’s beard he had, and he opened his mouth to deliver it, but Loki chose that exact moment to kick his leg into the water and splash Thor’s face and open mouth alike full of the foul stinking seawater.

Thor sputtered, spitting out as much of the disgusting taste as he could. The serpent’s blood made the salty water taste like a week-old animal carcass found at the back of a tavern, and Loki smirked, the sparkle in his eyes twinkling brighter.

And of course Thor couldn’t let such a grave insult to his person slide, so with a cheerful, “Have at thee, villain!” he splashed even more water at Loki, who kicked more back at him.

And for a few minutes at least, all was as it should be.

***

Little bits of gore kept tearing off and floating in the water behind them long after the head had stopped bleeding. Thor had said it was morbid. Loki had only smiled and sailed on.

Granted, though, the head was hardly a comfortable substitute for the boat they’d tragically lost. It was slippery, for one thing, and Loki found he had to hold on to the sword still wedged into the flesh to keep himself seated. There were no footholds, and the spot he’d chosen to sit on was only marginally more comfortable than the back of a Bilgesnipe.

He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting any of it to Thor. His brother already thought Loki’s taste in vessels disturbingly on the crass side, and had said so many times since they’d left the dead sea serpent behind.

But what Loki knew that Thor didn’t was that they needed every bit of edge they could get to impress the merfolk, and as far as statements of strength went, this one should serve them nicely.

The sky was already tinting with brighter shades of navy by the time they reached the part of Hverfa Sea where, according to the map, the merfolk territories began. Loki wove his fingers through the air to command the magic to slow down, then turned to Thor.

“Be quiet now,” he whispered. “They could be close.”

“They?” Thor asked, but Loki hissed at him and, miraculously, he shut up.

They sailed on in silence for an hour or so before Loki heard the first faint echoes of a song, and then he stopped the propelling magic completely. Thor turned to him, confused, but Loki merely put a finger to his lips and trained his eyes on the horizon, now brightening with the promise of a glorious sunrise. The merfolk, from what he’d read, loved the dawn – it was one of the few times they could be spotted braving the surface, this time in-between worlds when darkness bled into light and the creatures of the night retired to make way for the creatures of the day. Loki supposed it made sense. The merfolk were in-between creatures themselves, and as such, were drawn not to one side of the boundary or the other, but to the boundary itself.

It was the one thing about them that Loki could, and did, understand all too well.

As he suspected, they didn’t have to wait long – soon the horizon rippled with two dark silhouettes, lean and graceful, weaving in and out of the water on their way towards them. News travelled fast everywhere, it seemed, including underwater, and Loki supposed the kind of news that involved a giant decapitated sea snake would travel even faster than most. They got the merfolk’s attention.

He smiled as the figures got closer.

“Let me do the talking,” he mouthed to Thor, who, too, was squinting into the horizon.

“Are they – “

“Yes.”

“Then maybe I should –“

“We want them to like us enough to convince their queen to come talk to us,” Loki whispered. “The last time you tried to endear yourself to dignitaries from another realm, you ended up drinking them under the table.”

“And you created a scandal by bedding the ambassador’s daughter and son both. At the same time,” Thor pointed out, not missing a beat. “Don’t think I forgot.”

Loki grinned. He rather hoped Thor hadn’t.

“And what a delightful night that was,” he commented. “But hush now. They’re close.”

And so they were, silhouettes growing into figures into skin and hair and eyes so large they took up half of their dark brown faces. Females both, the mermaids drew to a close a short distance away from Loki’s choice means of transport, and were eyeing them with curiosity that verged on suspiciousness without ever quite crossing into it, their curly hair a pair of black halos dusted with gold from the ever-approaching sunrise. Their huge eyes shone with blues and greens and yellows much like opals turned in the sun, and their skin had a pearly sheen to it as it dripped water. Their noses flat, their gills protruding, they would no doubt steal breath from anyone inclined to romance.

So it was a good thing that Loki was in a very practical mood.

He raised his hand, the one not holding onto the blade, and inclined his head towards the two mermaids politely, and called, “Hail, fair ones! Speak you the All-speak?”

The mermaids turned towards each other and let out a series of clicking noises that, presumably, were their own language. Beside Loki, Thor stiffened suddenly, and Loki glanced at him quickly with a stab of envy. He knew the transformation would allow Thor to understand the strange language of the merfolk while Loki’s own spells of translation were useless faced with speech that was more sound and body language than substance, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

He had but little time to dwell on this, though, for one of the mermaids – the bulkier one, with broad, muscled shoulders and dark vine-shaped birthmarks curving along her face, neck and shoulders, swam closer, eyes swiveling between the two brothers with clear interest.

“All-speak I do,” she sang.

And it really was remarkably like singing. Her voice sounded strangely clicking still, and oddly accented, but also lilting like the chant of the wind in the gardens of Idunn, with a cadence that made the few words dance a faery-dance in Loki’s ears.

He grinned and bowed his upper body towards her. “Marvelous. I am Loki of Asgard, and this is my brother, the mighty Thor, heir to the throne of Odin All-Father. We have travelled a long way to meet you and your people.”

The mermaid’s opalescent gaze was sharp when she locked it with Loki’s. “Why?”

Ah. Straight to business it was. “My brother, as you can see, finds himself in a rather precarious position due to a spell gone awry,” he explained, gesturing to Thor. “We would speak with your queen to barter goods from our land for some of your own that we may reverse it.”

There was more of the clacking noise as the second mermaid swam closer to her companion. The other responded in the same fashion, and then turned back to Loki, cocking her head to the side with hair catching the newborn sunlight.

“Queen?” she asked, in the tone of one trying an unfamiliar term on for size.

“Leader?” Loki tried. The books definitely did mention a matriarchal system, or was that information outdated? Did these creatures even recognize the concept of monarchy? “One who rules? Head of the clan?”

“Mean he, gdl*ukl?” she asked in her lilting tones, the alien word falling into it like a false note into an otherwise flawlessly performed song, the curious glottal stop sharp like a verbalized punctuation mark. “One which see?”

“Oh! Yes, I suppose I do,” Loki said quickly, putting on his best smile. “Can the…” He faltered, knowing he would never be able to repeat the sound. “Would she deign to speak with us?”

It was almost insulting how quickly the designated translator mermaid shook her head no.

“Gdl*ukl speak no upworlder,” she said simply, like it was a well-known fact and Loki was silly for having forgotten.

“Ah, but we bring gifts,” Loki tried, and got naught but more shaking of the magnificent curls for his trouble.

“Gdl*ukl speak no upworlder,” the mermaid repeated. And then, just as Loki opened his mouth to entreat further, her opalescent eyes swiveled to Thor. “He,” she said, pointing at him, “he come.”

“Oh.” Loki paused to take a breath, and, well, it wasn’t as though he hadn’t expected it. He arranged his face carefully so that it wouldn’t betray any emotion, then inclined his head at the mermaids with respect that felt remarkably easy to fake. “Very well,” he agreed. “If you would grant us a moment.”

“We wait,” the mermaid announced magnanimously.

And so, with a splash, she was gone, her sister disappearing under the surface in her wake, the splashes of their dazzling tales whipping up water in mighty sprays.

As soon as they were gone, Thor turned to Loki with an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression on his face. “I could understand them,” he said, looking slightly uncomfortable with the fact.

“Ah,” said Loki. “Yes, I thought you might.”

“I never thought the spell would be so strong!”

“Of course it is,” Loki snapped, “it’s mine. What were they clicking about?”

“They were discussing whether we were worthy of addressing them and the rest of their people.” Thor’s brow creased in no doubt gargantuan cognitive effort. “I do not think they took to you at all, brother.”

“No, they wouldn’t, would they.” Loki released a put-upon sigh. “They are rather simple creatures. I wouldn’t expect them to appreciate the beauty of a well-chosen word or sharp wit.”

“They are too pure to fall prey to your silver tongue, you mean.”

Loki waved a hand dismissively. “Same thing. Now.” He concentrated, willed thought into magical energy into being, and summoned to his open palms one of his finest daggers, the jewels he’d dug out of fiery rock on his journeys through Musspelheim, the wreaths of the fabled moon-flowers of Alfheim and the necklace he’d stolen from the forest dryads on his last trip to the murky Vanir fogwoods.

When he looked up at his brother, he was somewhat gratified to see the stunned expression on his face as he beheld the treasures. “Loki,” Thor whispered, “how did you – ?”

“Too many stories, too little time.” Loki grinned briefly at Thor, and oh, did so enjoy the look on his face. “These will be our bartering chips. You will offer all of them to that… leader person in exchange for the pearls from the Weeping Face. Remember that name, Thor. Accept nothing else.”

“You… are entrusting this to me?” If possible, Thor seemed even more bemused by that than he’d been by the sudden appearance of priceless treasures in Loki’s hands.

“What choice do I have?” Loki shrugged. “They would not allow me near their kingdom. You look like one of them and can click along in their peculiar lingo. It is not ideal, but there’s nothing I can do.”

“I thought…” Thor still looked unconvinced. “I thought you would find a way to come with me regardless.”

“Oh, I will. But I will be in no state to assist you with actual talking.”

Loki watched with fascination as his brother laboriously thought his way through this, and nearly applauded when realization finally dawned, lighting up Thor’s big-jawed face like a candle. “You will shapeshift?”

“Oh, bravo!” Loki laughed, holding onto the sword when his body slipped a little on the scales that were his current seat. “And I will only be able to observe from afar. I was given specific instructions not to come close to their precious leader, so it would be highly suspicious if suddenly you were to appear in the company of an uncommonly cognitive salmon.”

“But what if they send scouts to check –“

Loki smiled, and concentrated.

“… Oh.” Thor blinked, looking between Loki and his illusion-woven double sitting in an identical pose next to him on top of the serpent’s head. “Oh. Yes, I believe this would work.”

“Well,” Loki said, shrugging once more, “the plan does rely on you to conduct the negotiations, so I wouldn’t be so sure. Still. It should be a simple enough barter. The merfolk are said to have a fondness for rare trinkets.”

“I have not your tongue of silver, brother.”

“No, you do not. But you shall have the gifts. And your… earnestness. That may just be enough, with these creatures. Your future depends on this barter, Thor, and, let me make this absolutely clear, you cannot just murder everyone and steal the pearls for yourself. You have to convince them to gift them to you.”

This earned him a glare. “I do not kill everyone I disagree with, brother.”

“Oh? Because I always thought you’ve never found a problem you couldn’t hit, bed or drink under the table,” Loki parried. “This is not one of those situations, Thor. It’s crucial you understand that.”

“I do.” The thunder behind Thor’s eyes was most satisfying. “I can do this.”

“Very well then, prove it.” Loki let his lips stretch into another humorless grin. “Let us see if Father’s no doubt arduous training had any effects. Now. Listen carefully and remember what I tell you about each of these objects, because you will have to repeat all that to their whatever in Hel she calls herself.”

And so he talked Thor patiently through each of the treasures, then conjured them into a transparent sphere that Thor would be able to carry underwater. When Thor finally disappeared under the surface, Loki waited a beat, then summoned his salmon skin and slipped into the cold, cold sea.

***

The mermaids led the way silently, sleek and assured in their own realm, and their easy, dignified grace would have shamed Thor’s own lackluster swimming style had he the mind to dwell on such frivolities. With his thoughts dark as they were, however, he merely let his gaze slide along their iridescent scales, idly admiring how the shredded sunlight set off the arresting colors of their tails whenever it pierced the depths.

Occasionally, this weak, fragmented sunlight also glinted off a nimble silvery shape trailing after them patiently, close enough for Thor to glimpse but discreet enough that the mermaids appeared not to notice anything out of the ordinary. The silver blur comforted Thor whenever he caught it gleaming out of the corner of his eye, but also pricked his spine with chill.

He had not forgotten Loki’s angry words from the boat, and he had much on his mind as he followed his beautiful guides down into the dark, murky depths.

Mostly, he thought about brothers, and kings, and princes, and the look in Loki’s eye after he’d brought down the sea beast. He also thought about his friends, and that his brother seemed to have none, and about the green mists of seidr, and solitary journeys, and prices to pay.

And though the thoughts appeared no clearer to him when the first shadows of what had to be the merkingdom rose up from the depths, at least he hoped he had caught enough ends of the tapestry to start tagging at it to, hopefully, reveal a pattern underneath.

The larger mermaid turned to him.

“You will touch nothing,” she communicated to him in the harsh, rhythmic speech that he, miraculously, not so much understood as accepted in his own head, the meaning behind the sounds forming easily in his head without detouring through the ears.

He inclined his head in a manner he hoped appeared respectful. “Very well.”

“You will only take what The Seeing One deems fit to gift you.”

“All right.”

“Follow us.”

They sped up. Thor did too, attempting to keep the pace even as his eyes were drawn to what appeared to be a large, round rock, hollowed on the inside much like a fighting arena. The two mermaids were leading him directly into it, and soon his eyes could discern details in the structure – corridors carved within the rock on the inside, supported by columns that were little more than pieces of that same great rock left standing between carved-out windows. There was light within those corridors – an eerie glow, green like Loki’s magic but brighter, somehow, which cast phantom shadows to dance along the walls, deepening the silence and drawing the attention to the stillness of the place. Thor, surprised to see the light glowing seemingly without a source, looked closer until he spotted glowing crystals embedded in stone at regular intervals, with obvious design. The crystals shone on their own, giving off more light than candle flames and yet serving to accentuate the darkness, deepening it.

And the closer they got, the more clearly Thor could make out details in the carving itself, on the columns and on the walls of the inner corridors. What at first glance appeared crude and simple now, in the faint ghoulish light, revealed intricate shapes that Thor would have liked to examine properly, especially since they appeared to convey dynamic scenes of battles he had never heard tales of. New was this world, strange and far removed from the tall spires and sky-scraping towers Thor knew, and all at once it hit him that he was perhaps the only outsider in centuries allowed within those walls.

The realization added a curious weight to his shoulders, and it was with a somber heart that he followed the two mermaids down into the bottom of the enormous stone arena until they swerved to the side into one of the corridors, picked an open mouth of a dark, green-lit tunnel, and led him down into what appeared to be the bowels of the rock.

At that point he had to resist the temptation to look over his shoulder, because all at once one thing became clear: Loki would not be able to follow.

Thor swam and swam and swam after the mermaids with a heart that weighed him down more with every beat, and sure enough, by the time brighter light loomed at the end of the tunnel, he had not noticed a single flash of silver.

But then he had no time to worry about his brother, for the light, as they swam closer, nearly blinded him. Gold rather than green, it seemed to stretch out in tendrils to touch him, twine around his arms and draw him closer even before he was out of the tunnel; and when he blinked, trying to chase the afterimages from the inside of his eyelids, he suddenly found himself in the middle of a hall not unlike the Asgardian throne room in that it seemed huge, and glowed with its very walls.

This hall, too, was circular, like nearly everything about this giant structure. But, unlike the corridors above the tunnels, it was not empty. Thor looked about him, blinking, and counted about thirty merfolk – male and female, young ones with their huge eyes and large heads and old ones with their scales bleached and dimmed of their iridescence, all of them dark-skinned, with hair and tails in all colors Thor knew and in some he didn’t. Finding himself within their midst felt akin to stepping in the middle of a rainbow. They were beautiful, these strange creatures, beautiful and silent, and in their stillness of color they appeared to be all the decoration the golden hall needed, or, indeed, had.

Only one piece of what could be called furniture found its way here. It was a seat of bright, vivid coral reef, which ought to look out of place here but instead served to make the hall appear warmer, more welcoming than the throne room in Thor’s home could ever hope to be. And seated on the reef, tall and regal…

The One Who Sees.

She looked older than the other merfolk, and yet younger at the same time. It was an illusion Thor could not explain, for when he gazed upon her dignified features they seemed to ripple and shift before his eyes much like water itself, and he found himself unable to focus on a single part of her face without his eyes beginning to spin. Her hair, short in comparison to the others in the hall, was grey , but gleamed with streaks of white in places, and seemed to shimmer like the starry sky. Her skin had the pearly-brown tone of her people, but as the shadows licked it it appeared almost purple in turns. And her tail, resembling that of a serpent rather than a fish, glimmered with every color all at once, long and winding, so that Thor imagined it would cover the entire hall when uncoiled.

She was looking at him, and smiling.

Thor bowed his head.

“Welcome, son of Odin,” she greeted him, and Thor once again felt that curious, prickly sensation of sounds solidifying into pure meaning at the front of his brain. “I trust you bring no thunder to our peaceful lands.”

“No…” Thor faltered, realizing only too late that he didn’t know how to address the merfolk’s leader. “Great One,” he decided eventually, bowing his head even lower to cover his moment of embarrassment. “I am merely come out of necessity, and to offer you some treasures from my world in exchange for yours.”

“At the request of Loki Liesmith, who fathered the dreaded World-Serpent.”

“And of my own volition,” Thor insisted. “I would ask your assistance so that I may return to my own body and intrude upon your realm no longer.”

“Intrude?” The ageless matron moved her features so that a pearl-decorated brow rose, giving her an amused countenance. “Why, we are honored to welcome you here, Odinson. Our lands are open to any who wish to stay.”

Oh. Well. “I thank you,” Thor said earnestly. “But I have my own duties above the surface that I may not shirk.”

“Indeed.” The elusive mermaid appeared even more elusive still. “And soon you will have more. I am one who sees, Odinson, and I see the thirst for war in your heart. You shall have wars. Enough to make you regret you ever courted them. And I have seen your brother fell the Glakl, and use her severed head sorely to show us the strength of Asgard. He does not comprehend the irony of his actions, but one who sees does. Tell me, Thunderer, is a show of strength necessary if your intentions are, as you say, peaceful?”

Thor felt heat stain his face, and kept his body rigid under the silent scrutiny of everyone in the hall. He’d told Loki…

“On Asgard we believe that strength is always a virtue,” he tried carefully, trying to look into the eyes of his inquisitor. It was no easy feat, as they kept rippling and shifting much like the rest of her features. “My brother did not mean his actions as a threat. He is a trickster, ever fickle, and his mind oft travels down paths that others may not… divine.”

“In that, at least, you are correct.” She seemed to smile, inasmuch as it was possible to tell, but the smile now appeared almost wistful. “He will travel darker paths still, where you will not be able to follow. I have seen suffering, Odinson. I have seen a scepter clashing with the Star-hammer. I have seen the World-Tree itself consumed with heat.”

Thor listened silently, and though every fiber in his bones urged him to ask for more, he kept his mouth shut. He’d heard that the merfolk sometimes offered prophecies willingly to travelers, but only ever divulged as much as they saw fit. Asking would do no good, so he simply nodded.

“I thank thee,” he said formally. “The promise of Ragnarok fills every Aesir heart with dread.”

“It does,” the mermaid agreed. And that seemed to be it, for she swiftly moved to more pragmatic topics. “Have you gifts to offer us?”

Ah. This, at least, he’d been well-equipped for.

He presented the enchanted sphere and explained the gifts one by one, repeating to the best of his ability what his brother had told him about each of them, and though his words sounded clipped and rehearsed even to his own ears the merfolk listened attentively. He even noticed a few widened eyes in the crowd, and noted the elaborate ornaments some of them wore – pearls and reef, but also gold, silver and copper, crystals and minerals. The pieces were beautiful, and instilled Thor with some fresh confidence. These creatures seemed to enjoy trinkets as much as any people, and the gifts Loki had equipped him with suddenly appeared even more miraculous when viewed through the merfolk’s eyes.

The one whose reaction he most coveted, though, stayed silent through his explanations, and said nothing for several long heartbeats as she studied Thor and his gifts with equal intensity. Impatience started to gnaw on Thor’s already tested nerves, and it took considerable effort not to tighten his hands into fists or his gaze into a glare.

But he couldn’t lash out. Not like he normally did. Everything else aside, he was loath to give Loki the satisfaction of proving him right.

So he waited, conscious of every heartbeat slicing away time, and held the chief mermaid’s gaze as steadily as he could.

“These are magnificent and rare gifts,” sang the mermaid eventually. Her tone gave nothing away. “Think you they be worthy of the pearls, Odinson?”

Thor frowned. He hated trick questions, and he had a nasty suspicion the merqueen was toying with him.

So he decided to stop playing games. He may be on Loki’s turf now, but he would do it his way.

“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “I know little of the true value these gifts hold, and I confess ignorance regarding the value of the pearls I ask in return. You were right: I am only doing what my brother instructed me to do.”

“Because you trust him.”

“Aye.”

“And believe his words.”

At that, Thor had to smile. “If not his words, then his intent,” he replied steadily. “I believe that even as he lies, he means well, and for that, I am willing to play the oaf he thinks me to be.”

The merqueen smiled back. “Well said, Odinson.” She seemed to straighten, then, and her hair gleamed as she brushed it from her shoulder. “Very well,” she lilted, “I accept your gifts and I hereby grant you the right to take three pearls from the Weeping Face. Lakla shall escort you to collect them. But you must swear on your honor that you will tell no upworlder about anything that you saw and heard here. That is my sole condition.”

Thor, relief swelling in his throat, beamed at her, and only remembered to bow in thanks when he noticed the amusement breaking through the merqueen’s composure. “I thank thee,” he said, composing himself into a veneer of princely dignity Father had been trying hard to instill in him for many years now. “I appreciate your hospitality and your kindness and I wish nothing but good luck for you and your people. You have my word.”

“Have a care, Odinson,” the mermaid blessed him, raising a graceful hand. “Watch your back at all times, and don’t let your faith in those close to you cloud your judgment and prevent you from doing what has to be done. There are dark times ahead. You will need both your strength and your heart to get through them.”

Thor bowed again. He could recognize a dismissal when he heard one, and it was with a much lighter heart that he followed one of his previous guides out into a different dark tunnel that led out of the rock without passing the arena on the way.

He couldn’t wait to tell Loki.

“Be on your guard,” Lakla informed him once they were out of the arena. “The way to the Weeping Face is long and there will be beasts to defeat on the way.”

Thor grinned. “Lead on.”

***

Where in Hel was he?!

Loki circled the arena one more time, eyes swiveling in the direction Thor had disappeared with his two mermaid companions, but nothing moved, nothing stirred in the green-tinged gloom of the forbidding rock. Of course not. That would be too easy. The Norns would obviously want to make him wait and fret some more, letting him think that his idiot brother got himself captured and imprisoned or worse, and he had no way of helping because the locating spell required a lock of Thor’s hair to be cast and Loki had none on his person in this stupid fish body.

Murder by failed diplomacy was not what Loki had intended as a result of this trip, no matter what Sif thought.

But there was nothing to do but wait, so wait he did, swimming above the arena in restless circles and peeking occasionally into the crystal-lit corridors, venturing as far as he dared. From time to time a sleek, graceful figure swam out from one of the tunnels and away into the depths, but none of them paid Loki any heed beyond a curious glance or two. Apparently a lonely salmon sniffing around their abode was not newsworthy, but Loki had no doubt that he would turn newsworthy soon enough if he decided to brave one of those dark tunnels. A fish swimming around the place on its own was not a serious security breach, but an apparently sentient fish looking for something intently would turn very suspicious very fast.

He could only hope that Thor wouldn’t get them both in trouble. While trying to be diplomatic. With a people they new virtually nothing about, who operated in ways so far removed from Asgard that they didn’t even seem to grasp the concept of sovereignty.

In short, ice had a better chance staying intact in the middle of a fire than Thor had of succeeding.

If only the stupid mermaids hadn’t led Thor so deep into the tunnels…

By the time the sun began to set once more, darkening the already gloomy waters, Loki decided that enough was enough. His brother clearly needed help and Loki would not spend another minute being gawked at by other fish if he could help it. His salmon body obediently turned around and swam back to the severed sea serpent head, using the shifting light of the sun over the surface to navigate, as his mind clouded with dark suspicions that the singular focus of the small fish brain only amplified.

He barely spared the time to appreciate sweet, sweet air after so many hours of lurking in the depths in debilitating stillness; but rather, as soon as he felt true sunlight graze his scales, he stitched his own skin through the salmon’s and tried to hoist himself up onto his grotesque replacement boat, dispelling the double with a simple thought. His limbs felt awkward and wobbly at first and it took him longer than he would have liked to get used to having hands and legs again, to say nothing of actual fingers, but that was to be expected – the last time he’d allowed himself to spend so much time in animal skin had been when he’d first fashioned his limbs into magpie feathers, and the sheer freedom of flight had all but intoxicated him. So far gone he’d been that day that it had taken Frigga herself to finally bring him back into his true form, and he’d had to fight the compulsion to hunt for beetles for a week.

He had no time for weakness now, though, and the salmon skin wasn’t nearly as beloved as his bird form, so as he gulped in greedy lungfuls of smelly sea air he forced his mind to concentrate and his confused body to obey. When his legs finally got the message and stopped trashing about uselessly imitating a fish tail, Loki ran a shaky hair through his wet hair, closed his eyes, and thought.

They wouldn’t kill Thor. The merfolk reportedly only hurt outsiders if they felt threatened, and while he could easily believe Thor would blunder his way through the negotiations so pitifully that he might actually get himself imprisoned, it was unlikely the merfolk would do anything to harm him. First and foremost Loki needed to know where his idiot brother was, and only then would he start planning what to do about whatever trouble he’d found himself in.

So he summoned the lock of hair from his pocket dimension, and breathed life into the magic, and though the green guiding string faltered and flickered at first, it snapped taut eventually, easing some of Loki’s darker suspicions. His brother yet lived, and now…

The string of magic tugged.

Loki stilled, eyes following along its guiding line. He tried to tug it back, experimentally. The magic went tauter still, then relaxed, then snapped back so abruptly that it nearly pulled Loki back into the water.

That – was not supposed to happen. Never had. Loki did not know what it meant, but it had to mean something, and, Loki thought with a sinking heart, probably nothing good.

“Thor!” Loki called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Thor!!”

Somewhere on the horizon, the water splashed. The string shooting out from Loki’s hand tugged at him again, more urgently this time, and it seemed to lead to the place where the water now rippled, casting shredded reflections of the pinking sky. Loki, exhaustion be damned, was just about to put what magic he still had in him to speed the head over to that spot, where suddenly another splash caught his eye, closer this time, and the magic tugged again.

Thor’s head broke the surface. He was beaming.

Granted, he was also drenched in a strange, gooey substance that seemed to have dried on him despite Thor spending all of this time underwater; and he was clutching something to his chest with one hand while he waved madly at Loki with the other. But there was no mistaking he blinding gleam of his white teeth, or the self-satisfied manner, or the energy with which he called back to Loki as he swam ever closer.

He was unharmed, and happy, and for the first time since this entire debacle had started Loki felt himself relax.

It didn’t take long for the weakening relief to be replaced with irritation, of course, and by the time Thor finally made his way over Loki was frowning at him with everything he had. But still.

“Well?” he asked, and gritted his teeth when his voice wavered somewhat. He cleared his throat and glared harder. “What kept you?”

“A shark,” Thor explained with an easy shrug. “Four times as big as an ordinary shark, and twice as intelligent, but not intelligent enough.” His grin turned positively wolfish when he added, “Or fast enough, as it happens. Pity I can’t bring the carcass home, it was most magnificent.”

“I’m sure your sycophants will be overjoyed to hear you tell the story anyway,” Loki huffed.

“Friends, Loki,” Thor said strangely, some of the grin disappearing. “Not sycophants.”

“Same difference.” Loki waved his hand impatiently, letting the string of magic dissolve. “You mean to tell me you spent the entire day fighting a shark?”

“Well, no.” Thor appeared to give it some thought. “The negotiations took a while, and then of course we had to swim a fair distance. Lakla liked to stop and tell me stories about the sights we passed.”

“Lakla.”

“The mermaid you spoke to. She is stern, but accommodating. I have learned much.”

“On your way to…?”

“Retrieve these, of course!” The beam was back on, and then Thor opened his right hand to show three perfectly round, perfectly gleaming pearls, glistening with water and their own inner light.

Loki stared at the pearls. Then he stared at Thor. “You did it.”

“Aye.” Thor’s smile managed to turn softer and smugger at the same time. “You were right, brother. In the end it was my honesty that won them over.”

That… sounded suspicious. “What did you tell them?” Loki asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Nothing to compromise either of us,” Thor assured him, and failed to realize that the sentence did not sound particularly reassuring at all.

Slowly, Loki reached out. The pearls seemed to reflect his questing finger and enlarge the pad to a comical size as he slowly touched one of them. Instantly the magic sparked to his hand, as though it was eager to sniff him out like a dog would a new owner, and the curious sense of wonder rose up in his throat.

Thor stretched his hand further, offering the pearls to Loki with pride. The gesture, imbued with so much unconditional trust, only served to knock Loki even more off-balance, so it was in silence that he took the priceless treasure carefully and deposited it into the soft silk pouch he’d prepared just for this purpose. Only when the pouch rested snugly in the inside pocket of his armor did he raise his gaze to Thor again, and found him still smiling, the expression tinged with warmth from the setting sun.

“We ought to go back,” Loki found himself saying.

“Yes. I can’t wait to hear the song you promised to Volstagg.”

“Ah, but to compose it I must first entreat you to share more about the Weeping Face and your time with the merfolk.” Now that the worry over his great big dumb brother receded and the precious pearls sat safe and sound against his body, Loki was treading familiar ground once again, and snapped his fingers to harness the magic for the journey back.

“I can’t tell you much,” Thor replied, easily falling into beat beside the floating head to keep pace with his brother. “I gave my word to the merfolk I would say nothing about the Weeping Face or my time with them.”

Loki sighed. “Of course you did. Can you tell me at least what the Weeping Face is? From my readings I divined it to be some kind of rock, an underwater mine perhaps, a spring of magic that imbues all life within it with unique properties… Was I right?”

Thor smiled and shook his head. “I gave my word, brother. You must forgive me.”

“Oh, very well, be like that.” Loki slumped back on the head, looking up at the spectacle of pinks, oranges and purples that was the cloudy sky. “Hel forbid you break your word only to satisfy your brother’s curiosity. Nevermind that it was this secret that was my chief reason for performing the ritual in the first place.”

“I’m sure you’ll find some other way to slake your thirst for knowledge.”

“Well, yes.” Loki stretched on the head. “But it would happen so much sooner and with significantly less fuss if you just told me.”

“I can’t.”

“Fine.” I’ll just keep asking you until you give in.

“I was in no danger,” said Thor suddenly, looking over at Loki with what looked disturbingly like fondness. “You needn’t have worried.”

Loki felt the muscles in his face draw tight. “Who says I was worried?”

“Your magic,” Thor explained softly. “I felt it before when I was with my friends, and now I felt it again, but I knew not what it was until Lakla pointed it out to me and remarked that the spell has your scent on it.”

“My scent?” Loki repeated incredulously, silently vowing to return to this place and make that sea bitch pay. “Magic has no scent! Or, well, it does, but not one that can be traced back to any one sorcerer, magical signature doesn’t work like that, you don’t just smell it –“

“The merfolk do.” Thor dove in for a moment and resurfaced, splashing water from his hair everywhere. “I suppose they perceive the world differently. Me, I am not a true merman so I am not as acutely aware of all that they experience, but I could feel enough, and when I focused I could see your string of seidr leading back to your – boat.” The long look Thor bestowed on Loki’s choice of vehicle spoke more eloquently of his skepticism than his words ever could. “Lakla said it was a locator spell. I was touched, brother.”

Damn.

“It doesn’t mean I was worried,” Loki countered sharply, stubbornly looking up at the sky. “I was merely growing impatient. I could have written and sang ten sagas about the great Sigurd’s misadventures with a goat in the ages it took you to come back. I thought perhaps you’d died.”

“Lakla also said that the spell required a piece belonging to the object in order to be cast.”

Not only make her pay, Loki thought darkly, but make it slow, very slow, and there would be hot pokers involved.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you,” he mumbled, ignoring the heat in his cheeks because by the Norns, this was humiliating. “Mimir knows you’re chronically incapable of watching your own back.”

“Thank you, Loki.”

“You will not mention this to anyone if you do not want to find cockroaches in your bed every morning for the next hundred years.” Then, a thought struck him, and he looked over to Thor. “So the tugging I felt –“

“It was me,” Thor agreed. “I wanted to see if it would work both ways and lead me to you. And it did.”

Loki hummed, not sure how to respond, and for a blessed while, no other word was spoken; he could therefore plot his bloody vengeance against that nosy sea bitch in peace. The activity was very relaxing. Soon he almost forgot the humiliation of Thor finding out about his concern, and by the time night cloaked the sky with its starry mantle, he was humming under his breath, Thor swimming happily beside him.

Until he opened his mouth again, and, as usual, made everything worse.

“So what do you really need the pearls for?” he asked lightly.

Loki sprang up on the head so suddenly he almost slid off it right into the water. “What.”

Thor laughed, the sound carrying easily on the wind. Loki tasted salt on his lips and sat very, very still, because no way would Thor figure out that –

“It’s not for turning me back, is it?” His brother prodded. “I admit I can be gullible at times, but you’re my brother. I have known you for centuries. Long enough to be able to tell when you’re scheming.”

“And you believe I’ve been scheming all along?”

“Yes.”

Loki looked at Thor. Thor looked back.

… Maybe he should deny everything. Stubbornly stand by his claims and carry on with the theatre he’d been about to perform for Thor anyway. All the while knowing that Thor knew, and also knew that Loki knew that Thor knew.

No. That would be even worse. Theatre was all well and good, but too much of it could stick down your throat like a fish bone. Loki gazed out into the horizon, back hunching and arms resting on his bent knees, then looked back to Thor, trying on a smile. It tasted sour, but stayed on.

“How long have you known?”

“I’ve been suspecting since the moment you insisted that my friends shouldn’t join us,” Thor confessed.

Loki raised both eyebrows at him. “And you went along with it anyway?”

“Yes, because I realized what you were trying to do.”

Loki let out a sigh and closed his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you now.”

“I did. And, brother…” Thor swam closer, letting his hand rest on the skin of the serpent’s head, not far from where Loki’s right foot rested. “You do not need to resort to such convoluted schemes to entice me to spend time with you.”

“Maybe I only wanted to use you to get the pearls for me,” Loki countered, even through the cold bile that surged up from his tightening stomach to clog his throat. “Maybe I knew the merfolk wouldn’t find me agreeable, but they’d fall for your simpleton charms. Maybe I merely wanted to play a trick on you and watch you exert yourself for my entertainment.”

“Aye, all of this is possible, and I do not pretend to know all of your motives,” Thor agreed easily – too easily. “And I suspect, for one who delights in tricks as you do, this sort of mischief would be very entertaining indeed. But that’s not all there is to it, is it, Loki?” Thor swam even closer, peering up into Loki’s face from the water. “I have not forgotten what you told me before the sea serpent attacked.”

Oh.

“Brother, I would have us talk –“

“There is nothing to talk about,” Loki snapped, looking away.

“But there is,” Thor insisted, once again displaying his complete and utter lack of regard for other people’s personal space. “You feel slighted. Perhaps even set aside. And I knew we were growing apart of late, but I never suspected it would hurt you so, and I would – I would make amends, and –“

“And what?” Loki hissed despite his best efforts to keep contained the familiar storm what was beginning to burn the inside of his stomach with angry lightning. “Do you imagine you will have more time for my company than you do now, once you are crowned king of Asgard, All-Father of all the Nine Realms? Have you ever seen Father gallivanting off to find adventure whenever he feels like it? Do you imagine we will ever have anything so careless and silly as this trip between us again, after your coronation?”

“I – “ For a moment, Thor looked lost and confused, as though he had never thought of things this way, and, by the Norns, of course he hadn’t. He was Thor. Loki should have known. “I would make time,” his brother said at length, and his face transformed into the kind of mulish determination that had been Loki’s close companion for thousands of years. “I would have you by my side, advising me, lending me your wit and your skill. I have always assumed –“

“You assume much.” Loki felt his shoulders tensing even further as the muscles in his arms clenched. “And know little. You say you would make time, but how, if you cannot make it even know, being still a king-in-training?” The last sentence came out more bitter than Loki had intended, and he very nearly bit his own tongue. Foolish. He’d already revealed too much.

But it appeared that, once Thor got the conversation going, he would not be deterred.

“That is not fair,” he admonished Loki, bristling. “I had tried many times in the past to attract your attention, to spend time with you, but you were ever cold, ever distant, shutting yourself away.”

“Because you did it out of some misplaced sense of obligation, rather than actual want for my company,” Loki pointed out bitterly, the bile in his throat growing sourer still. “Don’t deny it. You despise magic, you think it a coward’s art – a woman’s art – and you’ve ever thought less of me for my skill. Your combat-minded friends are far sweeter company than the vile God of Lies. I will not be anyone’s afterthought, Thor.”

“That’s –“

“Father had never intended for me to be anything more than your shadow,” Loki said quietly, fingers lacing together and holding onto each other, because he couldn’t very well hold onto Thor. Not anymore. “I knew, as soon as your training started, that I found this destiny hateful and had to make my own. I would no more be your shadow than you would be mine, Thor. I will make my own fate. I will travel, and I will learn, and I will become so great the Realms will tremble at the sound of my name. I will be known for myself. Loki Silvertongue, Loki Liesmith, Loki the Powerful. Not Loki Odinson, brother to the Mighty Thor.” His fingers, laced against one another, tightened. “Never an afterthought.”

They swam in silence once more, propelled by the wind and the rocking waves. Loki didn’t glance Thor’s way once. He did not want to see the frownlines and wonder what in Loki’s confession caused them – he had enough on his own mind to worry about Thor’s. He did not need his heart to grow any heavier, or darker.

And then Thor said, “You’ve changed.”

Loki let out a long sigh, closing his eyes again. “Yes. So have you.”

“I suppose.” Thor gave this some more thought, and then asked, “Has it been for the better?”

“Does it matter?” Loki slowly unlaced his fingers and glanced up at the star-dusted sky. “We will just keep on changing regardless, one way or another. I think it is important that we do, rather than what we change into. There is no one destination. There is only the process.”

“Spoken like Mother,” Thor said warmly, though the warmth’s edge was blurred somewhat with melancholy. “Maybe you’re right.”

At that, Loki allowed his lips to curl. “I am always right,” he advised Thor. “You would do well to remember this.”

Thor chuckled, but the sound was weak, and soon was snatched away by the salty wind. The mood between them, though lightened somewhat, was still dark as the sky above them, and Loki steeled himself for more questions.

Maybe he would not mind answering some of them, either. Just this once. It was that kind of night.

“You don’t think I am ready to be king,” Thor mused. It was not so much a question than a realization.

Loki sighed again. “No.”

“And this was, what, a test?”

“This, my dear brother, was… an exercise. Among other things. You are all-too-willing to solve your problems with the help of that hammer of yours, and you needed to learn that not everything can be smashed, threatened, drunk or fucked into obedience.”

“I do not always – “ Thor started. Loki rose an eyebrow at him. Thor faltered, then sighed and shrugged, tail splashing. “I thank you, anyway. It was a useful lesson.”

“Mind that you do not forget it as soon as we get back to shore.”

“And the sea serpent?” Thor prompted, ignoring the jab. “Why didn’t you let me fight it?”

Loki leaned back on his elbows, finding a smirk for his brother. “Maybe I wanted to show you what I can do,” he confessed. “You are always so quick to mock and dismiss me as a warrior. I wanted to prove you wrong.”

“But I have never dismissed you, brother.” Now Thor looked genuinely perplexed, as though the mere notion was absurd. It was enough for the bile in Loki’s throat to shoot up with a vengeance, and his heart clenched. “I always knew you were capable. I wouldn’t have been so glad to fight by your side otherwise.”

So I suppose I imagined all those times you and your friends compared me to a weak woman, a stroppy princess, a toothless pup? Loki wanted to say. He kept it in. There was poison in his mind he didn’t want Thor to see, and if his brother was too blind to see it for himself he wasn’t going to make it any easier for him.

So instead, he said, “You wouldn’t understand.” Not you. Not the Golden Son.

“I don’t,” Thor agreed, voice rising. “So tell me that I might.”

“Perhaps another time,” Loki said. “I feel I have spilled my guts enough for the night.”

“I’m glad you did,” Thor said after another pregnant pause. “It has been… enlightening. And I mean what I said – I would have you by my side in all things, Loki.”

“For now, perhaps.”

“And for as long as I may reign,” Thor insisted with his typical earnestness. “I still have much to learn, and I know you do not wish me ill.”

“Sif would disagree,” Loki pointed out with a smirk. “She believes I am jealous of your position and would fain take the throne for myself.”

“But she is wrong.”

“Somewhat,” Loki agreed. “I do not want any thrones. There is freedom in being the second in line – I mean to embrace it. I want freedom to fulfill my potential and surpass the All-Father himself. I want what is best for Asgard, and to prove myself, not get in the way of what is yours by right.”

He didn’t add that in his view, “what is best for Asgard” meant postponing Thor’s coronation for as long as possible. The oaf was not ready, and he’d bring to ruin not just Asgard, but all the Nine Realms together. But that was a thought for another time, and anyway, Loki was already hatching plans to intervene. In what he’d just said, at least, he was truthful.

Thor took his time to ponder his words, no doubt straining his already fatigued mental faculties in the process, and then declared, “I would give you this freedom if you desire it so. It will pain me to be separated from you thus, but I will not deny you what you want so badly. I’m sure Father will agree. He loves you, Loki, as does Mother, and as do I.”

And Loki managed to let that slide without a comment, though in his mind he had many, and none of them pleasant. “And you don’t think that giving me free roam of the Realms will lead to no good?” he asked, smirking at Thor even more. “You give no credence to the rumors about me that the court enjoys so much?”

“What, the rumors that appear in the wake of your mischief, or ones that you yourself perpetuate?” Thor’s laugh was definitely lighter this time, which, after all, was only a matter of time. Loki’s brother had never had the propensity to brood for long, the daft bastard.

Loki pretended to be shocked, and put a hand to his heart. “I would never!”

Thor only laughed more. Loki allowed his tense muscles to settle. They were out of the storm and sailing into port, and he could put his mask on again.

“So, the head?” His brother asked after another pause, this one more comfortable. “Is this another statement?”

“I happen to have many practical uses for the parts,” Loki informed him, then grinned. “That it may make an impression on your friends is entirely beside the point.”

“Of course,” Thor humored him with an easy chuckle. “And I will support whatever tale you tell the others. It really was a brave victory.”

“No braver than your bare-handed victory against a giant shark, no doubt,” Loki said with a meaningful look at the gore still clinging to his brother. “What a pair we make. How is this even staying on?”

“The blood is very sticky,” Thor complained. “But don’t remove it. Not yet. I would my friends see me like this so they would believe me.”

“And yet you accuse me of showmanship.”

“Rightly so!” Thor insisted. “It wasn’t me who devised this entire plan to… test me. Why the one day delay, Loki? We could have gone hunting for the pearls right away.”

“I had to give you time to learn to use this body,” Loki explained. “I wouldn’t have had any use for you otherwise.”

“Oh. I see.” Thor swam in silence for a while, and then prodded, “So it really was just to test me?”

“Yes,” Loki lied easily.

“And my friends couldn’t come because…”

“That would be counterproductive. It was a test for you, not for them.”

“And it had nothing to do with you wanting to go on an adventure with me.”

Loki smirked. “Nothing whatsoever.”

And that made Thor laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and Loki found himself relaxing once more as he gazed out into the stars.

“There is one more thing I don’t understand,” Thor confessed when, much, much later, they were nearing the shore.

“Hmmm?”

“How could you be sure I would abandon the hunt to come to the beach?”

Loki smiled. “I wasn’t. I was merely hoping.”

“So the ingredients you claimed I destroyed…?”

Loki waved his hand dismissively. “Useless trinkets, just for show.”

“And the real pearls?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find a use for them.” Loki grinned. “Several ideas present themselves already.”

“Some mischief, I should think.” Thor grinned back at him.

“Never doubt it.”

And Thor laughed once again, and soon they came in view of the pier, and the serpent’s head caused quite a stir among the beach-dwellers. Soon life with all its nuisances and complications would descend on them again, snatching Thor back into his own world and Loki into his.

But for at least one more night, they had this fragile connection, and Loki drew what comfort he could from it as he sang about their adventures at the feast, embellishing the tale outrageously and smiling when Thor, now in his own body – it had required a ritual much simpler than Loki had initially described, in the end – grinned back.

And out in the darkness, the Hverfa Sea rippled in the moonlight, hiding the truth in its depths.