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❛ ᴇᴛᴏɪʟᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ɪɴɴ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ
ᴄʀᴏssʀᴏᴀᴅs ꒱


❝ YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD
TRICK THE GOD OF LIES? ❞

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A L F H E I M

Fandral had been having a hell of a time. He was, of course, honored that the Allfather had included him as one of the warriors to retrieve the Star, but who knew such a being could move so fast? When Heimdall had sent them to Alfheim to start their journey, he'd expected it to go smoothly. He'd arrived in Stormhold with a plan to seek out a soothsayer to consult their runes. The Light Elves were known for their expertise in seiðr and so the readings should have been straightforward.

"Are you quite certain that the Star is no longer on Alfheim?" he asked the witch across the table. Like many Light Elves, she had an unearthly beauty about her: pale, nearly translucent skin, shifting, light colored eyes, and hair the color of wheat.

"Yes, my lord," she replied in a high, sweet voice.

"I hope you do not think that I'm questioning your skills, my lady, but it's only been a day. Have one of the others gotten to it first?"

She threw the runes on the table at his question and they scattered accordingly. "The results are scrambled, my lord," she apologized. "It appears that stronger, darker magic is preventing me from seeing the answer clearly. I would tread with caution once you encounter her; she appears to have bound herself to unsavory people."

Fandral sighed. "That means Loki got it, then. Hardly a surprise, that snake. No one else would pull such a dirty trick. Would you be able to tell me which realm it is in now?"

The witch tossed her runes once more. "It appears she is on Vanaheim, though her exact location is impossible to judge due to the dark magic surrounding her."

He rose with a dramatic flurry and gave the Light Elf a deep bow. "Thank you for your time, my lady. I shall heed your warnings with great care. Perhaps we will meet again." He gave her a winning smile that had charmed many a lady in Asgard's court.

The Light Elf, however, regarded him with an even stare and remained unimpressed. "I would not count on it, my lord. The Nine Realms are vast and full of dangers. I believe that you will not be returning to Alfheim within your lifetime."

"I will be on my way then, fair lady. I wish you well in all of your endeavors." He paid in coin for her time and left, trying not to feel too off-put by her parting words. (Understandably, he was never entirely comfortable when thinking about his eventual, impending death.)

✧ ✧ ✧

V A N A H E I M

Blasted rain, Fandral cursed to himself as he received a thorough soaking as soon as Heimdall transferred him to the new realm. Thor was probably trying to make his life difficult, just to ensure that his one-day search would end in victory. Thankfully, there was a cozy inn up ahead where he could shelter for the night. After he'd knocked on the door it took some time for someone to answer and he spent the wait trying to peer out in the dense blackness of Vanaheim's scrubby plains. Of course, he saw nothing.

A man with unsettling ovine features opened the door, which he tried to ignore as best he could. "At last. I require accommodation for the night. There is not much travelling to be done in this downpour."

The innkeeper let out a frog-like croak and kept his eyes lowered as he stood aside to let him in. A crackling fireplace greeted him with a bath already set up. "Excellent. I request a set of towels and some privacy while I get warm."

The other man left, much to his relief, and he set about getting into the tub. He let out a sigh of contentment as the hot water enclosed around him. Fandral leaned his head back against the meta lip of the tub, deciding that he would resume his search for the Star the next day; he had set out early enough that he could afford to lose some time here.

A young woman with long, blonde hair dressed in a bathrobe came downstairs with a curious look on her face. Mistaking her for part of the staff, he waved her over. "I would like to spend the night here, miss. I can assure you that I have enough coin to pay for your best room."

"I'll thank you not to bother my guest, sir," another woman entered the room. She might've been the girl's mother, though her blonde hair was more of a honey color and curly, as opposed to straight. "I am the lady of this inn. Glass of wine?"

"Oh, no thank you," Fandral declined her politely. "I make it a habit not to drink while I'm on the road alone. You never know what might befall you if caught on the unawares. All that is necessary for me is a night's rest. Your best room, perhaps?"

"Of course. I shall go prepare it now," the innkeeper's wife agreed.

Then it was just Fandral and the unknown girl alone in the room once more. "I'm sorry. I presumed that. . . travelling alone, are you? You must be very brave as a young maiden to be so far from home. What's your name?"

"Eleanora," the blonde answered quietly. Her gray eyes stayed trained on him, regarding him with suspicion.

He smiled at her and noticed her wary expression. "A beautiful name; it suits you well. You needn't be fearful of me, my lady. I am a soldier of Asgard's army. Questing under direct orders from the Allfather himself, actually. I'm in search of a Star, you see—"

"A Star?" she repeated. He mistook the tremor in her voice for fear of the being, rather than his purpose at the inn.

"Oh, they are not frightful creatures, miss. Truly, they are quite beautiful— or so I've been told; I've yet to see one myself. The last one existed before my time so our paths never crossed. The Allfather seeks their incredible power to make Asgard an unparalleled force. We already are, of course, but having a Star. . . it would just be the golden apple, you know?"

He carried on talking about the quest, unaware that Eleanora was getting more uncomfortable by the second and not at all impressed by his endeavors.

✧ ✧ ✧

It was only seconds later that the door was flung open with a burst of green magic. The rain was still pouring outside, but the man on the other side of the door was completely dry. Eleanora's eyes widened at the sight of the familiar god. "Loki!"

"Loki?" Fandral echoed, twisting around in the bathtub to look at the blonde. "You know him?"

"Of course it knows me," Loki sneered at his brother's friend. "I captured her first."

The blond man's eyes widened as he took in the girl wearing a dressing gown. "You're the Star? Why didn't you say something?"

"Well it's not like it wanted to be taken," the god retorted. "It likely hoped to trick you." In a marginally warmer voice, he held out his hand to the Star. "Come, pet. It is best to get away from this place while—"

"You!" The screech came from the woman on the stairs as she stared down at her newest unwelcome guest. She held a long, black knife in her hand— though who she intended to use it on still remained a mystery. "You dare show your face here after everything my sisters and I have done for you?"

Eleanora looked frantically between all three parties, her own eyes wide— but with fear rather than shock. She moved towards the wall, desperately seeking refuge against something solid. Loki's lips curled at Herja's demand. "You've done nothing for me, witch, except cause me trouble. You thought you could trick the God of Lies? You gave me that false passageway."

"You let the Star get away from you?" Fandral chimed in. He half-rose from the tub as far as decency would allow, sending the water sloshing around him. "Perhaps I should take her off your hands—"

"Do not trouble yourself, my lord," the dark-haired prince cut him off in an acidic tone, which he paired with an airy wave of his hand. "Leave this to the seiðrberi— you have no place in this fight. In fact. . ."

There was another flash of emerald and, in Fandral's place, was a frog that swam around the tub in happy circles. Herja had taken the opportunity during his distraction to join them in the living area, her knife still brandished threateningly. "You can try and take the girl, princeling, but I don't think she'll want to leave with you. All you've done is treat her like a prisoner and an outcast— you wouldn't even heal her ankle, the poor thing! I've been nothing but a kind and generous host. Isn't that right, dear?"

They both turned to see Eleanora pressed flat against the far wall. Terror was apparent on her face as her eyes stayed trained on the deadly-looking knife. Herja let out a little huff. "Oh, don't concern yourself with that right now." It vanished from sight. "You want to stay with me, don't you?"

The girl still did not reply. Her gaze flicked mistrustfully between the two of them, paired with hurt when she looked at Loki. The god took careful steps forward with his hand still outstretched towards her. "Pet, you can't stay here— this woman is a witch and she's only been kind to you because—"

"Bill!" Herja shouted, interrupting him. Behind the bar, her makeshift husband startled from his nap and popped up from the floor to watch her with anticipation. She pointed at Loki. "Get him!"

The ovine man charged towards the prince. Before he could react, there was a flash of gold, a streak of sunshine against the darkness. It rushed at the man and collided with him so hard that it undid the witch's spell and turned him back into a goat.

Furious, Herja created a wall of green fire to cut the boar off from the god and the Star. Although neither option was really preferable, Eleanora made a split-second decision and took Loki's hand since he wasn't actively trying to kill her. He pulled her out of the way just in time, keeping himself in front of her as the witch created a similar wall of flame on their other side that cut off their escape.

Herja closed in on them slowly, like a cat stalking prey. Loki still remained between them but the massive amount of seiðr that would be required to defeat the woman would surely catch Heimdall's attention, something that he was trying to avoid. The knife reappeared in her hand now that the Star had made her choice, and all pretense of kindness disappeared as she approached them. "The burning golden heart of a star at peace is so much better than your frightened little heart. Even so, better than no heart at all."

"Pet?" the god asked quietly. She looked up at him, full of hope that he had a plan. He did, of course. "Hold me tight and think of home."

As soon as the blonde wrapped her arms around him, he pulled the last of the Babylon candle out from one of his pockets. He thrust it into the flames and the wick caught. Thinking of Asgard, they disappeared in a flash of golden light, leaving Herja and her screams of fury behind.

✧ ✧ ✧

Lightning flashed around them as rain continued to sleet down. Eleanora was soaked to the bone in seconds; if she hadn't been so frightened she would've been angry with her would-be savior for making her miserable once again. At least their landing was softer and he didn't break any more of her bones, so that was a plus. Looking around, she saw that they were on a pillowy surface that was the same color gray as her dressing gown.

Loki seemed to notice their surroundings about the same time she did, and his eyes flashed with annoyance as he turned on her. "What the hell did you do?"

"What did I do?" she demanded incredulously, her voice cracking under her distress. "What did you do? 'Think of home!' That was a great plan! You thought of your home and I thought of mine and now we're halfway between the two!"

"Oh, you stupid wench! What did you think of your home for?" the god snapped. "I told you that you won't be returning to Alfheim anytime soon."

"You just said 'home!' If you wanted me to think of your home, you should have said!"

"I just saved your life! That witch was going to cut your heart out and you wanted more specific instructions?" Loki snarled. "Perhaps you'd like it in writing! Or a diagram, maybe!"

Before they could argue further, a heavy, sodden net landed over them. The weight took the pair by surprise and they sank to their knees on their cloud. They were hoisted through the storm, swinging dangerously from nothing but a sturdy rope. Despite their disagreement from only minutes ago, Eleanora clung to the dark-haired man as she prayed that the rope wouldn't snap.

They were deposited with relative safety on the deck of the ship and were greeted with the sight of unkempt men. Many of their faces were covered by goggles and rain gear, but she could tell by their statures and how they talked that she was the only woman on board. She pressed against Loki, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion. He curled an arm around her waist to keep her close as the pirates peered at them like they were relatively interesting livestock.

"Look, Captain Shakespeare!" one of them called. "Caught ourselves a little bonus! A couple of Lightning Marshals!"

Another man pushed his way to the front of the crowd. His face was the only one that they could see, but he looked equally unfriendly as he squinted at them through the rain. "They don't look like Lightning Marshals to me."

"Of course we're not Lightning Marshals," Loki began heatedly. "And if you had any sense—"

He cut himself off with a grunt as the blonde elbowed him sharply in his side. He glared at the girl but she only shook her head. The mate spoke again: "why else would anyone be up here in the middle of a storm?"

"'Why else would anyone be up here in the middle of a storm?' the Captain repeated. "Well, let's think. Maybe for the same godforsaken reason we are! Now, who are you? Let's see if a night in our lovely brig will loosen their lips! Get them in the brig!"

✧ ✧ ✧

"They're going to kill us, aren't they?" Eleanora asked in a quiet voice. They were alone in the room that served as a brig, though it was thankfully much nicer than what she'd been expecting.

"I wouldn't give them the chance," Loki answered in a low voice. "To hell with giving Heimdall my location— I'm not about to hand my life to pirates."

"Couldn't you. . . I don't know. . . magic us out of here?" she wondered tentatively. "You know. . . without killing people?"

The god sighed. They were sitting back-to-back on a pair of crates and he could feel her shift against him. "Using seiðr is a last-resort option, pet. I would prefer to escape with my own cunning rather than relying on my father for help. Besides, I have never teleported more than just myself; I do not know how much power I would need to take you with me. I would prefer not to fall thousands of feet through the air."

She let out a little snort. "You're not alone in that— my ankle's just been healed."

The mentioned of the injury that he refused to help repair made him wince slightly with an unwelcome feeling of guilt. He sighed again and allowed a small flash of green to free both of them from their restraints. "This won't make up for the harm I've caused you, but perhaps it will make your night less burdensome."

Eleanora turned in surprise as she felt herself become free from the god behind her. "We met by you tying me up, and now you're freeing me from my restraints? You've really had a change of heart, haven't you?"

Loki allowed his lips to quirk faintly her words. "Do not mistake this for kindness, pet. We have already had a trying night as it is; I merely wanted some peace from your presence for a while."

"Sure," the blonde agreed, a note of sarcasm in her tone as if she didn't really believe he was as cold-hearted as he was trying to make himself out to be. "Still," she continued softly. "I suppose you did save my life, and I've never thanked you for it. So, thank you, Loki."

The prince did his best to not be affected by her gratitude and gave her a careless shrug in response, though he couldn't help but think: you never would've been in danger if I hadn't captured you in the first place. He'd only made her life worse, after all; he didn't truly deserve her praise. 

✧ ✧ ✧

A small cart trundled along the bumpy road with a still-enraged Herja at the reins. She'd returned Bernarda to goat-form so he and Billy could pull the carriage for her. The witch was noticeably more aged now, with prominent wrinkles on her face that couldn't easily be hidden. Her hair was duller and graying and when she ran a hand through it, a large chunk fell away. She tossed it aside in disgust.

She rubbed the ruby on her finger once more. "Ask again."

Helena glared at her from where she still resided in their house on Asgard. "We have asked again and the answer is still the same. It is airborne!"

"Well, it can't remain so forever. Inform me as soon as it touches ground! Immediately! Do you understand?" the eldest sister growled.

"Watch your tongue, sister!" Heidi trilled, overjoyed in the face of Herja's failure. "It is you and not we who've lost her."

"Lost her and broken the knife!" Helena added, clearly nettled from the lack of progress. "Even if you apprehend her, how will you complete the deed?"

The two sisters still in Asgard glanced at each other. "Perhaps you should return now and one of us set out in your place."

"Don't be absurd. I'll bring it home and deal with it there. Be sure everything is ready for our arrival."