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Laufey stepped forward with his child in his arms. Utgard was in ruins after the attack, and without the casket, it would likely be centuries before it could be returned to its former glory. He did not need a runt to worry about in the meantime. The court would cite his son as a weakness, might even blame him for their devastating loss. Besides, he had two legitimate heirs already; he did not need another.
The workers parted to allow their king through, and he slowed as he approached the orphanage. “How does the building fare?” he asked Karha, the head of wards.
“Better inside than it looks from here”, he answered, watching the older wards move rubble from the collapsed roof on the far end. He turned back to his king to examine the bundle in his arms.
Laufey handed him the boy. “He was in the rubble outside the palace. Even if his parents aren’t dead, I doubt they would come to look for him,” Laufey explained as the walked down the path toward the building. Both knew that the no family would come looking for a runt that they had thought died. “But in these times, we need all the young Jotnar we have,” he finished.
Karha examined the runt. He appeared healthy other than his obvious lack of size, his markings strong against his skin. “We have room for him here,” he assured the king. “I’ll take him from here.”
Nodding his thanks, Laufey turned his back on his youngest son and continued to survey the city.
---
Two centuries after the end of the war, Laufey held a banquet for all of the wards of state. He was curious how the secret prince fared, and knew that though he did not know his name, he would not be difficult to pick out.
Sure enough, as the hundred or so wards took their seats in the mostly rebuilt hall, he noticed the furthest one from him was the size of a baby, but walking as any other child his age would. His heart swelled to see that his offspring was well, but he knew to seek him out would be suspicious, so he spoke to the eldest orphans about their plans. He had seen the eldest of them training under Helblindi, and was glad that his army was rebuilding.
“How many of you train with my son?” he asked Boaz, reviewing the Jotnar before him. Only 20 appeared to be old enough summon ice, let alone wield it as a weapon. It saddened him that the great war had created so many orphans.
“There are seven of us, Laufeyking,” he answered. “But I expect a few more within a decade.”
“Good,” he nodded as he drank from his goblet. “I am grateful for your service.”
The meal was served and conversations slowed. Laufey watched his son from across the hall, hiding a smile as he watched the young one play with his food.
----
Laufey sat in his throne as his people came to bestow gifts and ask for favors. Occasionally he would have Helblindi join him to teach him part of his role as king, but today he sat alone. He was only beginning when he noticed a small figure push his way to the edge of the crowd. He recognized the boy as his own immediately, though it had been three centuries since he had seen him last.
His eyes flickered to the boy as the line progressed. He did not join the line, but watched as Laufey passed judgment over his people. Laufey settled feuds and even agreed to sponsor a young man to be an apprentice to the head cook. Shortly afterward, his son had disappeared from the crowds, and Laufey found himself slightly disappointed.
His disappointment was quickly forgotten, but Laufey continued to notice him at public gatherings, and he could not help but wonder what his son was like.
He was still small, and likely had a few centuries yet to grow, even as a runt. His body was slight, though his markings remained dark and healthy. Then next time Laufey held a feast for his wards, his son sat much closer, and he watched him eat and joke with the other Jotnar his age. To Laufey's surprise, he seemed to be well liked.
“Who is the runt?” he asked Karha bluntly, hoping that it masked his true interest. Karha did not look to see whom his king referred, and loving smile spreading across his face.
“His name is Loki,” he answered, and Laufey watched as the boy turned as though he had heard his name in the loud hall. “He is quite the little troublemaker, but very helpful when he decides to be,” Karha told him with a chuckle. Laufey laughed with him; Byleistr was much the same at his age. “I suspect you’ll be seeing more of him eventually.”
Laufey frowned in confusion. “Why would you say that, Karha? Do you think his behavior will become criminal?” He did not wish to sentence his son, but as king, he could not give special treatment without reason. Thankfully, his fears were unfounded.
“Oh no, nothing of the sort. He’s quite talented with Seidr, and when he’s old enough he’s sure to petition for sponsorship,” the man explained. “And if he continues to improve at the rate he had, you’ll be hard pressed to find a reason not to grant it.”
The discussion changed courses, but Laufey could not help but feel pride well in his chest at the knowledge of his son’s talents. At the same time, he felt a deep sadness that he had not raised Loki himself. Seidr was a valued gift, and had he known his son possessed it, he would not have feared the opinions of the court when Loki was born.
Still, he could do nothing but wait, so wait he did.
---
Laufey waited another century before his son knelt before him at the front of the petition line. He gestured for him to stand, his height only reaching the chest of the Jotnar behind him. He held himself with dignity and grace, dressed in what were obviously his finest linens.
“I have come to petition sponsorship to continue my studies, Laufeyking,” he said, his voice clear and smooth.
“What kind of sponsorship?” he asked as though he did not already know. He felt a small pride in the way he was conducting himself.
“Seidr,” he said simply. He reached out his hand to allow fire to dance at his fingertips. Laufey’s eyes widened in surprise. Fire was the hardest element for most sorcerers, let alone a Jotnar. His chest swelled with pride as his son shaped the fire into the shape of a man, allowing it to walk across the air between them before he flicked his wrist and the shape vanished.
“What is your name, young sorcerer?” Laufey asked, aware that most of the crowd was still in shock.
“Loki Karhason,” he answered, his voice wavering slightly. Laufey understood his shame at his abandonment, and once again regretted his centuries old decision.
“I will grant your petition, Loki Karhason,” he gestured for a guard to come forward. “Take him to my office,” he turned back to his son. “We will discuss your situation further when I am finished,” he explained.
“Thank you, Laufeyking,” Loki bid, kneeling again before following the guard. Laufey finished with the rest of the line quickly, his thoughts remaining on his son and what he would do for him. He could finally give him the world.
Striding through the palace quickly, Laufey was glad that people seemed to know to stay out of his way. He dismissed the guards standing outside his office, entered, and sealed the door behind him. Loki stood from his seat and bowed his head respectfully, but Laufey quickly dismissed him.
“There is no need for that here,” he assured the young sorcerer. Loki nodded, and the men sat. “You will stay in the palace while you study, and you will be granted full access to the library and training grounds, as well as the kitchens.”
Laufey paused; he couldn’t show special preference for one man. It would be suspicious to say the least, and he was yet unsure how Helblindi and Byl eistr would react. However, there was a way to guarantee Loki acceptance...
An idea formulated in his head.
“I will require progress checks at the end of each year. If you continue to improve, I have great plans for you,” he said sternly.
Loki nodded. “I am grateful for the opportunity, Laufeyking. I will not let you down.”
Laufey smiled and dismissed him. A master of magic could surely return the Casket to its rightful place.