Loki

The Bifrost shimmered with otherworldly light, its endless expanse of energy stretching across the cosmos.

Loki often wondered why did it need to be so gaudy and built with gold.

It was still dark, in the early hours of the morning nothing could be heard except the wind as it scraped over the water. Soon the twin suns would rise.

Asgard was quiet around this time.

Loki stood at its edge, the hum of raw power vibrating beneath his feet. He gazed out into the vastness of the realms, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable.

He had debated for weeks if he should come here or not. Every step he took towards the Bifrost felt like he was playing into fate's hands.

His green eyes fell on a familiar figure, clad in gold and steadfast as a comet.

Heimdall stood at his post, his golden eyes unwavering as he the universe.

"Your Highness," he greeted, his voice steady, as if he had been expecting him.

Loki inclined his head slightly. "Heimdall. I trust you've been watching as you always do."

Heimdall raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his silence an invitation for Loki to speak his mind.

When he was younger, he felt a little unnerved by the golden sentinel but now he doesn't even remember why he felt that way. So much has changed.

Loki hesitated, something uncharacteristic for him. Then he sighed, the faintest vulnerability slipping into his tone. "Tell me, Heimdall. Have you seen her?"

"You speak of the mortal."

"Yes."

"Ah, yes. Maya," Heimdall said without pause, his gaze softening just slightly. He must've been imagining it. "I have seen her. She resides on Midgard now, far from the turmoil of the realms. She is safe."

Loki's shoulders eased, though his expression remained distant. "Safe," he murmured. "Good."

He had his answer. That was enough for him.

Heimdall studied him carefully. "You still care for her."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Heimdall had no use for small talk. He never did.

"Care?" Loki scoffed, though it lacked his usual venom. "What an oversimplification. She is where she belongs. And I... am where I am needed."

He was starting to not believe his lies.

Oh, How the mighty have fallen.

Heimdall nodded. "Your brother was the same with his love." He remarked. "I suppose there is no point mentioning it but this was after your supposed demise. Every day he would come and ask me about her. It kept him sane through his grief."

It does little to reassure him.

"I didn't deserve any of his grief," Loki said.

"Thor grieved you nonetheless."

"I am not my brother." He said. "And she is no longer my love."

"No, you are not. You are Loki." Heimdall said, turning his gaze back to the universe. "But at least he was honest with himself."

Normally, he would have a sharp comment to throw back into his face. Not this time.

Loki turned away, his cape swirling behind him as he began the long ride back to the palace.

The twin suns peaked over the mountains, spilling their golden light onto Asgard. The city slowly awoke. Shop vendors set up the stalls, soldiers strolled through the streets, and the citizens started their day.

Loki slinked through the city with practised ease till he made it to his secret passage. A small arch was hidden in the public gardens.

All he had to do was press his hand against it and murmur a spell and he was transported to the cellars.

Loki always glamoured himself whenever he went out in public. He walked past the servants and maids with ease, as if he was a low-born young man working in the palace.

Sometimes the maids would greet him and he would smile back. It was nice, once in a while, to be regarded without mistrust in their eyes.

And it was a wonderful way to collect gossip too.

He entered the main hall where he could smell the fresh scent of food and hear the laughter from within.

Loki peeled the glamour off.

The morning sun bathed the palace gardens in a golden glow, its warmth spilling into the private dining hall where Thor, Jane, and Frigga sat enjoying breakfast.

The air was light with conversation, a rare moment of peace amid the chaos of ruling realms.

It felt so painfully normal.

Jane sat across from Thor, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea. She looked like she had lost weight again, the sharpness of her collarbones sticking out.

He tore his eyes away from her.

"So...this feast." she began, glancing at Frigga, "What exactly is different about this one? I don't know much about the Vanaheim's delegation but doesn't it feel overkill?"

Frigga smiled warmly. "Oh, they can be tedious but Asgard's has a reputation for hospitality."

Thor leaned back in his chair, spearing a piece of fruit with his knife. His expression was grim. "They've grown too comfortable making demands. I'll not have them dictating my brother's fate."

At that moment, Loki entered the hall, his usual air of nonchalance in place. He took a seat beside Frigga, pouring himself a goblet of wine—an unusual choice for breakfast, but no one questioned it.

He hadn't eaten anything but he could care less.

"Ah, brother," Loki drawled, "How kind of you to care."

Thor scowled. "You know how I feel about this marriage proposal. It's absurd."

Oh, Thor was in a mood today.

This would be entertaining to watch.

"I know. It is." Loki said, arching an eyebrow. "Something interesting happened last night. One of the delegates—his name started with a G. Was it Gerl? Or maybe it was Grest?"

Thor smirked. "Gertil?"

Loki lifted his cup. "That's the one. He wears his cape in such a silly way."

Frigga gave him a soft glare but it was quickly replaced by concern. "Loki, what did he want?"

"He simply wished for me to make a decision, if I recall." Loki took a generous gulp of his wine before continuing. "And he insinuated—not so subtly may I add—that the Vanir's loyalty is waning along with their patience."

The cup in Thor's hands shattered. "How dare they? Father is still alive!"

The maidservants hurry to clean up the mess.

Loki felt a twinge of satisfaction at his brother's outrage.

Jane watched the exchange quietly, her gaze flicking between the brothers.

"They wouldn't dare to cross such a line as long as Odin lives." Frigga placed a hand on Loki's arm, her expression gentle but firm. "You are my son, Loki. I won't allow for such a demand. Your happiness matters more than any alliance."

"Happiness," Loki repeated, his voice tinged with mockery. A part of him felt guilty. "A lovely sentiment, Mother, but the Vanir are important to Asgard. If you remember, it was your marriage to father that ended the conflict between the Vanir and Aesir. The Vanir are essential allies. We've spent the majority of Thor's rule quelling uprising after uprising. If Vaneheim decides to start a war, we would accomplish nothing. And they are well too aware of that."

It was no secret that Frigga was from Vanaheim.

Every century or so she would visit her sisters there. The recent conflict between Asgard and Vanaheim must've been difficult on her.

"Yes, but that was out of love."

"And this will be out of duty." He sighed. "We have no idea when Odin might reawaken. It could be years at this point."

Frigga turns away, staring at the balcony and the billowing curtains that flow into the room. "You don't know that."

Thor shook his head silently, begging Loki to not pick at her wounds. He leaned back in his seat. He may be ruthless but he loved Frigga more than anything, he couldn't hurt her even if he tried.

"I've done enough damage to Asgard. Let me do my duty."

Thor slammed down a fresh goblet, the sound echoing through the hall. "This is not about duty, Loki. You're being used as a pawn."

"Pawns can be useful."

"But you're no pawn, Loki."

"Mother disapproves, you disapprove—shall we ask the Light Elves their opinion next?" Loki's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. "I am no one's pawn. This is my decision."

"Since when have you cared for the rules of others?"

"I don't." He said. "But I'm a prince and I have duties. I don't have to remind you what I've given up to stay here."

Before Thor could respond, a messenger burst into the room, his face pale and his armour dusted with travel.

Loki knew that he didn't bring good news.

Messengers only arrived if the information they had was confidential or private. Asgard had the technology to send communications within seconds. Tablets and little devices strapped to their wrists.

They may appear ancient but their technology was anything but.

The situation must be truly dire.

Good, some distraction will do nicely.

He took another sip of his wine, relishing in how the cold beverage cut through him.

The messenger knelt before the table, his voice urgent. "My king! Word from Nornheim. The rebel leader Drunir has attacked the city. He is using the Marauders. They are overwhelmed and beg for Asgard's aid."

Frigga reached out for Loki blindly. He grabbed her hand without hesitation.

Thor rose instantly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Prepare the Bifrost," he commanded, his eyes glowing slightly. "I'll go myself."

"Thor." Jane stood up but he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"No, my love." He kissed her forehead, stroking her cheek. "I can do this. Worry not. I'll see you soon."

The scene was such a contrast from earlier. Loki forced himself to look away.

"Thor," Frigga began. "At least send the Warrior Three—"

"I will not hear of it, mother. I am a king and I will lead by example. I'm tired of sitting on a throne and doing nothing."

Her eldest son was already striding out of the hall towards the balcony, his cape billowing behind him.

He swung his hammer and took off into the sky, racing toward the Bifrost. Loki watches his brother become a speck on the horizon.

Frigga groaned. "I swear he does that on purpose."

A faint smirk curled onto his lips. "Eager as ever to rush into the fray as always. He'll make quite the dramatic hero in his tales."

Jane shot him a glare that he ignored.

Frigga turned to him, her expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "Don't tell me that you're giving into this madness too?"

Loki leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his goblet. "Me? I'll do what I always do, Mother—clean up the mess left in his wake. Our soldiers are strong and Thor is eager for battle."

Frigga looked unconvinced. The room fell into an uneasy silence.

"But we don't have the numbers," Frigga reminded him. "Our forces are spread out too thin. You said it yourself. How can they aid him?"

Loki knew that. Odin's beard, everyone knew that.

Thor could fight but he was only one person and this rebel leader had spent months gathering up enough forces in Nornheim.

There was one way but he didn't know if it would work or not.

"Fret not, Mother." He said, finishing off his wine with a gulp and grabbing his cape. "I have a plan."

"Your father would tell you to follow your heart, even if he rarely said it aloud. Do what you feel is right, my son. Not what you think is expected of you," she said, her tone gentle but insistent.

Loki stared rising twin suns on the horizon, and then he slowly pulled away from the table, rising to his feet. "Follow my heart?" he said with a bitter laugh. "But the hearts of men like me are seldom of any use."

"Be careful," Jane said. "If anything happens to him, I'll—"

Jane sinks back into her seat, her expression worried and grim. Frigga holds her hand.

"I'll watch over the throne," she says. "Go help your brother, Loki. He needs you."

"I'll ensure that he's back to you in one piece."

He hesitates for a moment longer than needed before giving her a firm nod. He turned and strode out of the dining hall, his cape flowing behind him.

Outside the palace, Loki stood at the edge of the great bridge leading to the Bifrost.

Thor can easily take care of himself in battle. But the subjects of Nornheim that depend upon Asgard need troops and supplies to ensure victory.

He looked out at the endless expanse of Asgard, his mind racing. Duty. Responsibility. Sacrifice. Words that clung to him like a shackle. Yet beneath it all, there was a faint voice—the one that still cared, still longed to prove he was more than a shadow in Thor's light.

With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his daggers, their blades gleaming in the light of the setting sun. He turned them over in his hands as if seeking answers in their reflection.

He sighed deeply, muttering to himself, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

But even as he spoke the words, he knew the answer. He slipped the daggers back into their holsters.

No, this isn't what he needed to do.

He needed to gather the troops and send them to Nornheim.

—

Brunnhilde

The alarm bells were ringing all over Asgard.

It was utterly irritating.

Her head ached from the feast last night. She had consumed a whole barrel of mead and then some.

A fish swims in the water and I drink like I am one.

She sat up from her lounge chair and watched as a streak of silver and red rushed towards the Bifrosr, thunder rumbling in the distance. A moment later the Bifrost lit up from across the sea.

Something was going on.

She didn't really care.

Brunnhilde and the other Valkyries were relaxing, enjoying the Asgardian summer.

Ever since the absence of Odin was announced, they had chosen to leave Asgard, preferring to stay away from the politics of the court.

The last time they had gotten involved with the royal family, their numbers had reduced by two-thirds.

Hela had utterly devastated them.

She did not want a repeat of that.

Ever. 

Of Asgard wanted the Valkyries to stay then they would have to match their price—and as their commander, she ensured that it was a steep one.

She took another swig from her bottle. The liquid burned down her throat pleasantly.

No matter how much she drank, she could never forget.

"Brunhilde, look," one of the Valkyries called out. "Someone is approaching."

"Then kill them," she said, tossing her empty bottle to the side. "Or ignore them. Do whatever you like."

The young Valkyrie looked concerned. "They carry the banner of Asgard."

"Now that's interesting." She said, picking up her sword.

The unmistakable gilded armour of Asgard's soldiers grew closer and closer. The Valkyrie wore silver and blue, a sharp contrast to their armour.

In between the soldiers was a dark figure riding an eight-legged horse. Odin's horse.

She narrowed her eyes, recognizing that particular shade of green.

Her hand automatically reached for the hilt of her sword.

The small entourage came closer and closer. Their winged horses neighed and pawed at the ground anxiously, betraying their stance. They came to a stop a few feet away from where they were camped.

She pressed her hand against the neck of her Pegasus, fingers tangling in its mane.

Brunnhilde saw a tall and dark-haired individual step down from his horse.

"I am Prince Loki of Asgard and I—"

"Have come with glorious purpose?" She asked.

He shot her an irritated look. "No, Commander Brunnhilde. The royal family needs you."

She scoffs. "We are no longer affiliated with you, Prince of Asgard. Leave or your family will lose another son."

Brunnhilde pulled out her sword and pointed it at his neck. The soldiers drew their swords promptly the Valkyries grabbed their weapons. The winged horses screeched, snorting in fury.

Loki puts his hand out but he does not move or blink despite the tip of her blade digging into the skin of his throat. She can see him swallow.

She raises her chin. "We take orders from nobody."

"It isn't an order. It's a request."

She sneered. "Well...request denied, your highness."

"If not for the family, then at least for Thor." He said. He glanced at her hand which was covered in scars. "Loyalty is the new currency. If that is so, then tell us what you want so you may aid my brother. He has done nothing but advocate for you and your release from Hel."

"How can I trust your words, trickster?" She asked. "All you do is lie."

"I have come peacefully."

"Then drop the dagger that you've hidden away."

Loki blinked but did as she told him. He reached into his chest armor and pulled out a long beautiful dagger with a ruby on its hilt. The steel glowed. She could see something inscribed on it but couldn't make out the words.

He hesitated for a moment and dropped it.

"Let us negotiate," he said. "I swear on my honour as a prince. No tricks, no lies."

Brunnhilde glanced towards her sisters. They didn't have to say anything at all. One of them nodded, lowering their sword slightly.

"What do you want?"

"Thor is going to battle. Our forces are spread too thin trying to keep peace in the other realms."

Brunnhilde kicked a stone, watching it roll and tumble till it came to a stop. "So you want us to risk our lives and protect him? Is the king not strong enough?"

"His strength is debatable but he cannot fight every enemy on his own."

"That's a pity."

"You're Valkyrie's. Tales of your bravery and heroism are told to every child in Asgard. Fifty of our soldiers are equivalent to one of you. You could turn the tide at such a crucial moment."

Prince Loki didn't cower away from her blade like other men. She had rumours of him; mainly that he was conceited, rude, ruthless, and an absolute villain. Mainly that he was a power-hungry coward.

Some of those things must be true but the man standing in front of her looked nothing like she had imagined him to be.

He had guts. She'll give him that.

"Very well, Prince of Asgard." She lowered her sword. "Now tell me, if we decide to join, what can you do for us?"

"I can do quite a bit." He took a step back.

Brunnhilde smirked. "Alright then. I have a few ideas."