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❛ ᴇᴛᴏɪʟᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰  . . . ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴏғ
ᴅɪɢɴɪᴛʏ & ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ꒱


❝ I ASK YOU, MY VALIANT
WARRIORS & LOYAL SONS
TO SEEK OUT [ THE STAR ] 
& BRING IT HERE TO ITS
RIGHTFUL PLACE ON ASGARD ❞

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A S G A R D

"Brother!" Thor's booming voice caught up to Loki as he made his way to the throne room. He let out an infinitesimal sigh at the disturbance of his peace, but willingly slowed his steps until his older brother had fallen into place beside him. Since they were clearly going in the same direction, the first born inquired, "do you know what father wishes to tell us?"

"He has not deigned to share anything out of the ordinary with me," Loki informed him with a shrug.

Thor's expression lit up as he thought, carelessly swinging Mjolnir by his side. "Perhaps he wishes to send us to Jotunheim to be rid of those monsters once and for all!"

The dark-haired prince held back another sigh; ever since they were children, Thor had wished for nothing more than to wage single-man battle against the Frost Giants. He thought that succeeding in such a feat would be both a great service to their realm and bring him even more honor than his already esteemed name held. Loki cast him a sidelong, playfully scolding glance. "Are you forgetting father's wisdom so quickly, brother? We are at peace with Jotunheim right now. It would be ill-advised to seek out war with them."

"Peace with such beings can only last so long," the crown prince remarked, his blue eyes gleaming at the thought of certain victory. "They are likely to muck it up sooner rather than later. I will be ready to put them in their place when the time comes."

"Be that as it may," Loki replied, "that time has yet to pass, so it surely cannot be what father wishes to speak with us about. Have there been any unusual happenings on your adventures, brother?"

"Brother, all of my adventures are unusual," Thor answered as he clapped the smaller man on the shoulder, his laughter sounding like a rumble of thunder. It was only years of being Thor's brother that kept Loki prepared for the impact, otherwise his legs would have buckled from the force. "But there has been nothing exceptionally strange afoot— nothing that could be easily conquered with Mjolnir by my side."

The younger man fell silent as they walked, pondering about what their father could possibly seek out their presence for. It was true what he had said; they were at peace with the other realms. There was the odd skirmish, certainly, but as his brother had mentioned, it had only needed Thor's and his friend's presence to be easily put to rest. The Centennial Ball was coming up, so it might have something to do with Asgard's biggest event. It was well-known that Loki was decidedly not a fan of such big gatherings, so it was either a tremendous task that required both of them, or something else entirely.

When they neared the entrance to the throne room, their questions only increased— Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were already waiting for them by the great doors. Their heads were bent together as they spoke in low voices, presumably wondering the same thing that Thor and Loki had been. The blonde prince bounded forward with a large smile on his face to greet his friends enthusiastically, not at all put off by their unexpected company.

Lady Sif, the Goddess of War, was the most striking amongst them, just for being the only woman— and a beautiful woman at that. Her long, dark hair was almost always held away from her face (better for seeing the enemies you stab, she said.) Her blue eyes were sharp and full of intelligence; it was true that Loki admired her for her gift of battle strategy (unlike Thor, who only ever had one plan: attack) and her skill with a sword. She was a proud, honorable warrior who had earned her rightful place amongst Asgard's shield-maidens.

The Warriors Three were equally legendary. There was Volstagg the Valiant, a strong-willed and brave soldier, known for his size and strength. Most of his face was hidden behind a long, red beard and wild hair of the same color. Despite his intimidating presence, he was a good-natured man and often eased any discord that the group experienced.

Hogun the Grim was Volstagg's complete opposite; where the former man was jovial and easy-going, Hogun was stoic and serious. He had a strong sense of duty and was a committed member of Asgard's army. His dark hair and eyes lent him a grave air. He was as skilled with a mace as Lady Sif was with her sword.

Fandral the Dashing was also a talented sword-wielder, though his weapon of preference was a rapier. Besides Loki, he was said to be the most charming of the group. His blonde hair and blue eyes often helped to win over ladies' hearts in addition to his humor and charisma. 

After Thor finished greeting his friends, he put a hand on Fandral's and Volstagg's shoulders as he beamed at them. "My friends, it is a delightful surprise to find you here! What is the reason for your company?"

"Your father asked to see us," Lady Sif responded, her stern features softening slightly at the sight of her closest ally.

"What a coincidence that we should be called at the same time!" Thor exclaimed cheerfully. "Perhaps this mission requires a larger party?"

The Lady inclined her head in agreement. "Perhaps. I believe King Odin wants to send us on a quest, though for what, I do not know."

"A quest for glory," Hogun guessed.

"A quest for riches!" Fandral put in hopefully.

"A quest for food," Volstagg said, dreamily rubbing his stomach.

Fandral let out an exasperated sigh. "Food? Must you always think with your stomach, Volastagg?"

"Of course," Loki cut in smartly. "He hasn't got any brains to think with otherwise."

Used to the dark-haired brother's sarcasm, Volstagg merely rolled his eyes at the jab. Instead, he chose to justify his response: "I'm just saying! Perhaps the kitchens are out of a key ingredient. It would be terrible luck to be missing such a thing with the Centennial Ball coming up. Maybe this is a shopping expedition."

Lady Sif seemed unconvinced by his reasoning and a dark brow rose in disbelief. "King Odin, the Allfather, ruler of the Nine Realms, is calling all of us to his presence for a shopping expedition?"

Volstagg shrugged, unbothered by the incredulity in her tone. "Well, the local merchants might be out of it, too, so we have to use the Bifrost to access it in another realm. As the Allfather, ruler of the Nine Realms," he echoed teasingly, "he would be far too busy for such a task. Besides, shopping expeditions can be dangerous— you haven't been on one with my mother."

Thor let out another booming laugh and he jostled the red-haired man against his side. "I admire your imagination, my friend. Perhaps father does simply want us to help with the grocery list. At any rate, it is imprudent to keep him waiting. Let us go see what is to be asked of us."

✧ ✧ ✧

Asgard's throne room was the grandest of all rooms in the Allfamily's palace. It could easily seat every single resident in Asgard with space to spare. When it wasn't filled for a great event, it was a large, cavernous area where voices only carried if they commanded the power to do so. At the head of the room was the Allfather's throne: there were many steps leading up to the gilded seat; behind the padded chair, two giant sculptures of ancient cats curled up to form an almost-complete circle behind it, with their heads and bared fangs facing each other. Murals lit by torches decorated the walls, depicting Asgard's greatest triumphs. Large columns stood evenly spaced throughout the room to hold up the ceiling, which was decorated with paintings of Asgard's golden palace and the Allfamily.

It was truly an impressive room to behold, and many a visitor caught their breath upon their first entrance. The group of warriors who made their way to the throne had been to this room many times, so they had become accustomed to its impressive size. Their attention was more focused on Odin, who sat on his throne with his scepter in hand. He had not changed much from the days when the princes had been boys; his already-gray hair had only become slightly grayer and his face had gained a few more lines, but he was still formidable, even to his sons.

His single blue eye stayed trained on them as the group approached the throne. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three were the first to kneel before him, dropping to the ground and averting their gaze respectfully. Thor and Loki stopped just ahead of them, folding into their own bows before their father. Odin watched them from his seat, his severe expression becoming warmer after they had showed proper deference.

"Rise, my sons," he said to the princes. Loki straightened first, followed by Thor. "Rise, my brave warriors," he added to the quartet. When everyone was standing, he continued, though his focus remained mainly on his offspring. "My sons, I am sure you are wondering why I have called you here today. Before I explain my reasons, I must first ask— do you remember the story that I told you of the Battle of Jotunheim when you were young?"

Thor brightened instantly and his grip tightened on Mjolnir's leather handle, as if he expected Frost Giants to burst into the throne room at a moment's notice. "Is it time, father? Are we to set out and finish what you started?"

Odin's lips quirked into a faint, barely noticeable smile. "I appreciate your courage, my son, but that does not answer my question."

"Yes, father," Loki replied.

The king nodded approvingly. "Good. What of the story do you remember?"

Although he wondered what his father was getting at, Loki considered the question for a moment before he answered, "Midgardians once revered us as gods, though it has been so long since we have been to Midgard, we have fallen into their myths and fables."

"Asgardians fought the Frost Giants for them," Thor continued, "which is why they worshipped us after we won. We claimed the source of their power, the Casket of Ancient Winters."

They fell silent, and their father waited for them to add anything further. When they didn't, he prompted them, "is that all? I believe you have yet to mention something that Loki brought up that day."

The dark-haired prince frowned thoughtfully as he tried to recall what else they had discussed. His brother seemed lost as well as his free hand toyed with the strap that was attached to Mjolnir's handle. Finally, Loki shook his head. "I'm afraid I do not recall, father."

"Would you forget your questions about the Star so readily, my son?" The brothers glanced at each other in surprise before they faced the older man once more. After a pause for them to process this information, Odin resumed speaking: "I remember how curious you were about the Star's existence, Loki. I answered your queries as best I could that day. I thought, perhaps, that your interest has remined over the years. Am I incorrect to think so?"

"I am still quite curious, father," the younger man countered, recovering from his shock from the unanticipated topic quickly. "I sought out as much information as I could about the Star in our archives, though there was only one mention of it in the retelling of the Battle of Jotunheim, which I had already found. As there was no further material, it seemed like a moot point for me to keep an active interest so I have stopped searching."

"Hmm," his father remarked at his explanation. His eye drifted over to his other son. "It is my understanding that it has been awhile since your last mission, has it not, Thor? Have you grown restless while waiting for another chance to prove yourself?"

"Not at all, father," Thor responded hastily, though his fidgeting with his weapon proved otherwise. "There is much to do here in Asgard: training, mock-fighting, celebrating. . ." At the king's stern expression, his bluster trailed off and he mumbled, "yes, a little."

Odin nodded again, as if he had expected such a reply. He straightened in his throne to sit fully upright. "Then perhaps you will both be eager for this opportunity that has presented itself to me— and, to an extent, to you. I have heard from my sources that there is another Star." At this, the group looked at each other with varying degrees of excitement and intrigue. Once he had their attention again, the Allfather continued, "I have learned that the Star is on Vanaheim, though exactly where remains uncertain. I ask you, my valiant warriors and loyal sons, to seek it out and bring it to its rightful place here on Asgard.

"Your deadline to have the Star in your custody is the day before the Centennial Ball, which gives you a week to compete this task. I wish to show off Asgard's power and might to our neighboring realms. They already are aware of it, of course, but to have a Star. . ." He trailed off, as if the thought was too good to be true. He shook himself and added, "to make things a little more. . . interesting, consider this a competition— a game, if you will: you can work with whomever you chose, or work alone. He— or she— who brings the Star to me before the Centennial Ball will be ruler for the day and earn the sobriquet of Celestial Emissary."

"Father, you are too generous," Thor exclaimed with his trademark booming laugh. "I do not need a week to find this Star for you— give me a day and I shall succeed."

"Famous last words, brother," Loki murmured, too quietly for anyone to hear.

✧ ✧ ✧

Loki had only made it halfway to his chambers when an unseen force slammed him into a wall. He let out a grunt of surprise but made no other sound of discomfort, even as a sharp blade pressed against his neck. As he took in familiar long, brown hair and sharp blue eyes, he smirked despite the dagger being held worryingly close to his throat.

"Lady Sif," he began, his tone smooth and unbothered as if they had met this way many times— and indeed, they had. He flashed a smug smile at her: sharp and full of teeth, almost bearing them ferally rather than a true grin. "You dare to accost one of the members of the royal family in their own home?"

Her eyes narrowed as she met his. Her free hand— not the one threatening his life— was pressed against his chest while her knee was positioned between his legs to keep him in place. A rather good hold, he mused thoughtfully. Should he make any sudden movements, he would certainly have trouble. . . ah, fathering children in the near future. Still. . . . it was not entirely impossible to free himself, if he so wished— Sif did not have magic, after all.

"I know your games, Loki, and I am in no mood to play them," she said, her voice low with warning. "I will offer this partnership to you only once: work with me to find the Star and I will let you have the kingship for the day."

The dark-haired prince tilted his head, almost with amusement, not caring that it made the blade of the dagger dig deeper against his skin. "And what makes you think that I want to work with someone? That I could not simply seize the kingship for myself, without aid? And why would you come to me, of all people, when you know that I am the least favored amongst your friends, the Warriors Three?"

Sif looked like she regretted her decision— due to how annoying the god could be— to go this route, but it was only a flicker of an emotion before her features smoothed over. "You have magic," she explained simply. "With my weaponry skills, we could be an unstoppable team." Her voice dropped slightly, becoming a touch more sultry. "You know we have been before."

Loki tensed at the mention of their past. . . relationship. His own eyes narrowed at the fact that she would go there, before his usual arrogant expression returned. He let out a soft chuckle. "My lady, it certainly seems as if you have your own games to play. I'm surprised an honorable warrior such as yourself would stoop as low as hypocrisy to get me on your side."

The brunette's eyes flashed with irritation and she dug the blade further against his throat— it was a good thing Aesir skin was so durable, or else she would have drawn blood. "So your choice has been made then, has it?"

"It appears so," the prince replied amiably. "However, let us be clear on one thing—I am not doing this out of loyalty or camaraderie. Consider it a strategic alliance, nothing more."

Sif's grip on the dagger relaxed and she withdrew it, stepping back a pace. "Agreed," she said, a hint of a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "I care not for your loyalty, Loki. I seek only victory."

✧ ✧ ✧

When the dark-haired prince finally did arrive at his chambers, he found Frigga waiting for him inside. He went over to greet her by pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. She smiled at him fondly in return and raised a hand to gently cup the side of his face for a moment before she let it drop back down to her side.

"Mother," he said casually, "what brings you to my rooms?"

"Your father has issued his competition, has he not?" she asked. At his nod, she continued, "he has not disallowed help from others besides those he called to the throne room?"

"No," Loki replied, a little surprised by the fact that he hadn't caught this loophole himself.

Frigga's smile was sly, bordering on mischievous—a look that her son had mastered long ago. "Then I hope that you will accept aid from your dear mother."

Before he had a chance to reply, she reached up into thin air and pulled out a slender, black candle. Loki watched the ease with which she did this with some envy; he was still learning interdimensional magic and, while he was leagues better than he had been, say, at the beginning of his training, it still required mental strain to access his pockets. From another seemingly random place in the air, she withdrew a long, silver chain that sparkled in the light as if it had been made of diamonds. She first handed him the candle.

"A Babylon candle," she explained. "They are quite rare, so be sure to take caution when using it. However, once lit, all you need is to think of a destination and you will be transported there immediately. As for this—" She held up the chain. "—it is enchanted so that only the holder may break its loop. You can use it to ensure that the Star does not stray."

The god took the chain from her. It felt almost like water running between his fingers, so unlike the bulky chains that prisoners wore. This one was fine, with tiny notches for links. He had no doubt of its power, though. If his mother had enchanted it then it would surely hold against both blade and strength. He looked up at her curiously, though there was  of mischief in his own eyes.

"Thank you for the gifts, mother. But may I ask why you are not also giving Thor this advantage?"

Frigga's blue eyes glinted with mirth. "You presume much, my son. Surely you know that I am above favoritism? How do you know that I have not visited your brother first?"

"Ah, but Thor would consider this. . . what would he call it? Oh, yes— cheating. He believes it is unfair to have such an assistance, when it is merely making use of one's resources," Loki remarked with a slightly teasing lilt to his tone.

"Then I suppose you have your answer," his mother replied. She squeezed his hand lightly before she departed his room, leaving him to pack for the journey. She paused at the doorway, looking back one more time. "And Loki?"

"Yes, mother?"

"When you do find the Star, keep in mind what I have told you about differing perspectives and how large the world truly is. You are a man of dignity and grace— remember that when you meet her."

It was only when he was alone again that he realized Frigga's. . . mistake? But no, that couldn't be right; his mother was not prone to accidents. Still. . . she had referred to the Star as something that not even his father had:

Her.

A/n: woohoo! First milestone completed— in the previous two versions of this book, I never even got to the part where Odin issued his proclamation. Now the real story can begin! Loki and Eleanora will meet next chapter, which I'm both excited for and hopefully I can portray them correctly. I was worried about this chapter since there are so many canon character personalities, but I'm actually pretty confident that I got them right. I'm looking forward to getting to each new milestone (there are a lot since I never made it past four chapters lol) so things will only get better from here :)