The Last Days of Magic and Glory Chapter #15
In this chapter, Thor tricks Frigga into revealing the truth about Loki's heritage.
Chapter 15: Thor Odinson, Spymaster
Thor awoke, missing the warmth of Loki’s body beside him. It did not take long to discover that today Loki had made it out of the bedroom in order to feed Sleipnir. They were on the terrace eating some of the overgrown grass that had sprouted between the rose bushes. Thor pulled his clothes on hastily before joining them.
Loki had cried himself to sleep in Thor’s arms the previous night, like he had not done since they were children and Loki was frustrated by his failings in combat lessons. Thor worried for him. Loki had not always been favored by their father and knowing that it was so most likely because he was not their father’s son by blood could only worsen Loki’s feelings of inadequacy. Thor wished, not for the first time, that his brother were not so sensitive. Of course, there was always the possibility that Thor was the unrelated one, but neither had bothered to indulge that notion. Thor looked very much like both their parents and shared many of their qualities, while Loki had always been different.
The real question, other than if Loki was actually correct in his deductions, was why their parents had bothered to hide such a fact. Adopting foundlings was considered a noble tradition on Asgard and would have been met with praise. There was something else going on and Thor was determined to find out what it was. He resolved to visit thier mother before the warrior inspections he and the Council had scheduled began.
As Thor exited onto the terrace, Loki transformed back into his Aesir form and pulled on a simple white tunic. He smiled at Thor, but the smile did not reach his eyes and when he spoke, there was a coldness there that had not been there before. It reminded Thor of how ruthless Loki could be when he was in a righteous mood. “Good morning, Thor.”
Thor immediately wrapped his arms around Loki from behind as they both watched Sleipnir investigate a frog that had found its way into the fish pond. They fit together perfectly. Loki was almost as tall as Thor, so he didn’t feel like a giant, but his slighter form was still the perfect size to be enveloped completely in Thor’s protective embrace. To Thor, this felt right. As brothers, they had always been physically close, but there had been a straining quality to it. Even though they never felt uncomfortable embracing, a part of Thor must have always subconsciously itched for more, because every previous touch, no matter how intimate, felt like a shadow of his true feelings.
He placed a kiss on the back of Loki’s neck and Loki turned, his voice still echoing that coldness that none of Thor’s affectionate touches could dispel. “Can you take Sleipnir with you when you assemble the warriors today?” Loki asked. “I am troubled by the magic in Jotunheim. I have books in my rooms and in the library that might shed light on the subject, but I will need the morning to locate them.”
Thor did not like the idea of explaining why he was bringing a foal to training, but Loki was probably the only one who could understand the magic on Jotunheim and it was a strategic advantage they could not afford to waste. What bothered Thor more was Loki’s clear determination to ignore the revelations of the previous evening. Thor understood that this was a different kind of strength - to keep emotions in reserve and soldier on with what needed to be done. It was not a skill either Thor or his father possessed.
He at once admired the discipline it clearly took to pretend as though nothing had happened and worried that such shielding of emotion could lead to even more perverse outcomes. Thor remembered all the resentments Loki had kept hidden from him until recently and wondered if it would not have been better if Loki had told Thor long ago. Still, Loki was entitled to his grief, no matter what form it took. Thor would just have to be on alert for the day when it finally cracked the cool veneer that Loki now projected.
Thor kissed Loki softly. “I have promised to break my fast with our mother. But when I return, Sleipnir shall accompany me for the morning.” Thor had not spoken to his mother about dining together, but she had recently lamented that she did not see enough of her son outside of the formality of Court. It was only a small lie, but still Thor felt accomplished when Loki did not notice it. Perhaps he was learning.
He would need to be, considering the lies he planned to tell.
***
Frigga looked surprised to see Thor, but her surprise soon melted into genuine enjoyment. Thor relished in the feel of his mother’s comfort, lingering a moment too long when she hugged him to her. Thor had needed to be the strong one last night, providing comfort when he, too, felt confused and distraught both by the fact that Loki was not his brother and that the woman whose comfort he now craved had lied to them their entire lives.
“What is it, my darling?” Frigga asked. Her gaze was knowing and her expression so soft and motherly that Thor had to fight to remember that she was potentially a liar and certainly a woman who had used magic against her own son.
Thor had always thought his mother lacked the ruthlessness to rule, with all of her soft smiles and her painful sympathy, but now he realized that she was every inch the Queen, with the ability to manipulate with her innocence and the will to do so. And now that the suspicion had grown in him, Thor forgot the woman whose shoulder he once cried upon and whose sweet voice sang the childhood lullabies that sent him into comfortable, dreamless sleep.
Thor remembered what Loki had said about a great lie. A great lie was a lie made up of as many scraps of truth that could be sewn together into a whole. It came sandwiched between truthful things and, if possible, was always accompanied by genuine emotion.
Thor breathed deeply, like the moments of pregnant silence before battle. The first truth. “I have not been entirely honest with you, Mother.”
Frigga’s eyes flashed momentarily with betrayal and, surprisingly, greed. Thor realized that for all they had joked about the gossips of the Queen’s sewing circle, his mother genuinely hungered for and coveted all secrets. It was another kind of strength that Thor did not yet understand: the possession of knowledge.
Frigga eyed Thor critically, but remained calm, spreading butter and barberry jam over her morning sweetbread with little concern. She had used the same trick of nonchalance when they were young and Thor and Loki had gotten up to some mischief. Thor always broke even though Loki would always get back at him for it afterwards.
Thor ate his own meal, stalling. But his mother’s attention didn’t waver. She waited patiently for Thor to spill his secret.
“I know where Loki is. I have been sneaking off to see him.”
“I suspected as much,” Frigga replied cooly. “Where is he?”
“I cannot tell you,” Thor replied.
His mother just stared at him expectantly.
“You would not have me break my oath to him.”
Frigga sighed. “I fear many a terrible thing when the two of you work together, but I would not have you break your brotherly bond.” Thor felt relieved until she continued, “But I have not been pressuring you to reveal this to me, despite my suspicions. You have come to me of your own volition and, unlike your brother, you are incredibly reactionary. You came here specifically to tell me this because something has happened and you need me to intervene, oath or not.”
Here was the turn, the place where the lie fit so neatly. “Loki knows everything, mother. He has not shared it all with me, but he knows that we are not true brothers and nothing I say will convince him to return.”
Frigga looked heartbroken. Guilt, remorse, regret - they were all expressions that Thor was unaccustomed to seeing on the faces of either of his parents. “Thor, you must understand, it was an impossible decision. We knew that lying to our children was wrong, but we also did it for your own protection. The best of all possible worlds would be if you never found out.”
“But why?” Thor demanded. “The people would have smiled on your generosity for taking a foundling into your home. I would have loved Loki no less.”
Frigga laughed. “Have you learned so little of politics sitting beside me on the throne? The people would never have accepted a Jotun in the royal household.”
A Jotun? Thor felt his blood run cold. It couldn’t be, and yet it made more sense than anything Thor had heard in a long while. It explained Loki’s penchant for ice-magic, his imperviousness to the cold, the fevers when he was young, his strange fertility. It was more than not being brothers. Thor and Loki were not even the same species.
Not only that, but Thor had taken Loki. He had lain with a frost giant. It was not the same as Fandral’s sordid tales of the forbidden by unequalled passions he hoped to one day consummate. They said that making love to a frost giant would encase your heart in ice and ruin you for any other until the end of time. It had been intense and real and like nothing Thor had ever felt before. Was his love for Loki some frost giant enchantment that overwhelmed his rational mind - the part that proclaimed them to be brothers?
Thor felt bile rise in him, not because he was disgusted by what had been an amazing act, but because with all the twisted lies, the secrets, the circumstances of their joining, Thor could no longer be sure that the previously-pure love he felt was genuine. Thor could abide by many things, but he could not stand the thought that he was not the master of his own fate.
Frigga stood, laying a gentle hand on Thor’s shoulder. “You did not know.” She sighed. “Of course, he would not tell you more than the essentials. My poor boy, he probably fears your reaction.” Her fingers ran up Thor’s arm and under his chin, tilting it up to look at her. “You would not reject him for this. I know you will not.”
“Of course I would not. I love him.” If only his mother knew how much . . . . “But how did this come to be? Why?”
“It was your father’s doing. Perhaps not a wise decision at the time, but he is impulsive and for the most part his impulses are for the better. After defeating Laufey, your father touched the Casket of Ancient Winters to steal it away from Jotunheim and thus cripple Laufey’s power. But your father has Jotun blood in his veins. He said it compelled him.”
“It compelled him?”
“Your brother knows more of this than either of us, Thor, but it is said among the mages that such objects of great power have their own intentions. Their reach across the universe is profound and their knowledge of its secrets breathtaking. Their consciousness is not as ours and their intentions are obscured, their motivations complex beyond all imagining. But they manipulate the threads of fate as though they are harpsichord strings. We still do not know for what purpose the Casket compelled your father to search deeper in the palace chambers, to find a Jotun babe, abandoned, too-small for his kind. We still do not know if Loki is meant to be a snake in our house planted by an artifact loyal to only its own kind, or a boon meant to draw our two peoples together.”
If Thor had felt sick before, he felt even worse now. A snake in their house? Had Thor missed this fear in his parents all along? He most likely had, but Loki would not have overlooked it. Perhaps all his imagined slights were not so imagined.
“Don’t look at me that way, Thor. I know better than anyone that we are mere pawns of fate. I never loved Loki less for fear of the future. He is my son and from the moment I held him in my arms I have loved him fiercely.”
Thor knew he was wrong to doubt his mother, who had always favored Loki. It was his father that could be blamed - for all of this. “And father?”
“He loves your brother dearly, though in recent years he has grown suspicious of his intentions, perhaps rightfully so. Loki is trully of another species to Odin, as much as he is Odin’s son. I fear that neither one understands the other, but that is also a common problem between fathers and headstrong sons.”
“Loki is not a snake in our house, mother,” Thor protested. “For all his tricks, he has made me a better man and he will make me a better king. The fate the Casket has chosen for us - it must be a boon.”
Frigga sighed. “Yes, but a boon for whom? I have spent ages at my loom in meditation on the subject and the only conclusion I can draw is that your brother, as Laufey’s son, is the Casket’s true master. It drew your father to it in order to save Loki’s life. Odin won that war through prowess in battle and because Laufey was never able to use the Casket on him. It lost the war for Jotunheim and it brought Loki, its true master, here with us. It is a boon for Loki, but what of the rest of us?”
“Loki is my brother,” Thor declared. “I am as bound to him as the Casket is. What is a boon for Loki is a boon for me and shall be a boon for Asgard.”
Frigga studied him carefully. As his mother, she could crack open any mask and tear open any door holding back secrets. She let out a harsh gasp. “Thor? Have you and Loki . . .”
Thor could not bear to hear her finished that sentence and pull his most painful secret to the light of day.
“I’m sorry mother, but I must take my leave. The warriors must be prepared for battle. Now that I know the full extent of this, I hope to be able to convince my brother to return.”
He stalked off before Frigga could stop him.
***
Sleipnir had proved to be a useful tool in inspiring the men. When Thor asked Sif how he was going to explain babysitting an eight-legged foal, she had just rolled her eyes and said that she would take care of it.
Sif taking care of it turned out to be an inspiring speech in which she talked about creativity in battle. She talked about how there had been no changes to the basic qualities of a horse in milenia, with some stronger and others faster, but not drastic changes. Except now, an eight legged-foal was born that could outrun even the biggest racing stallions and outsmart a few of the stupidest men. Sif spoke of how the last war with Jotunheim had been a close battle and that the battle techniques that had worked for millennia needed creative new approaches. Asgard would find them.
Thor had planned to tell the warriors that he’d misplaced the foal’s mother so all in all it proved much better to allow Sif to handle things.
The warriors were prepared for battle and even more eager than Thor anticipated. Perhapse Loki had been right when he talked about unsated bloodlust. Thor hoped that it would not matter - that King Laufey would prove as untrustworthy as Thor had always believed him to be and they could go to war. Thor had faith that his warriors would fight well and hard and the war would end quickly, quickly enough to prepare for this enemy that Loki insisted lurked beyond the arms of Yggdrasil. Loki underestimated the good it could do to give the warriors some real fighting practice.
Even though war was supposedly a grave thing, Thor could still not seem to focus on the battle preparations, not with the new revelation that Loki was a Jotun himself swirling around in his head. It didn’t change anything about the love Thor felt for him. And it didn’t make Thor trust him less, except to maybe make sure to keep him away from the Casket and its schemes. But it would change things between them. Thor didn’t know how exactly, but he knew that Loki would be deeply affected by it. Thor thought back to all of the things he had said and still believed about the Jotun (the ones who had not be raised differently). They were disgusting monsters who deserved the war that was upon them. Loki would not forget those words. Loki almost never forgot anything.
Thor braced himself as he and Sleipnir walked up to the gate of the garden terrace. Sleipnir rushed inside immediately, happy to see his father. Loki did not stop what he was doing at Sleipnir’s excited antics, but petted the little horse absently when he nudged at his father.
Loki had cleared Thor’s desk and moved it over to the window overlooking the terrace. In the golden sunlight that spilled in through the window, he looked radiant, surrounded by books and manuscripts with a relaxed, but pensive expression on his face. He had abandoned the comfortable tunics he had seemed to favor since he transformed into an Aesir once again, and was instead wearing a more casual variation on his ceremonial robes - green and black with interwoven silver and gold plates. The difference was that this version had no sleeves, revealing Loki’s thin but well-defined arms and the pale skin of his shoulders. Thor had, admittedly, worried that now that he knew Loki’s true heritage, he might be physically repulsed by him. But Loki was as beautiful as ever, not a spec of blue skin or red eyes to be seen. Even if Jotun blood ran through his veins, Loki had been raised on Asgard as Thor’s brother, with Aesir traditions and values and the warmth of the sun and people who loved him instead of in a barren wasteland by hateful frost giants.
After one too many nudges and little nips, Loki sighed, magicked away his clothes, and stood, transforming instantly in order to feed Sleipnir. Thor had been used to giving Loki his space when he was nursing. It was a little too surreal for Thor anyway, to be reminded that Loki was someone’s mother. In fact, Thor was still finding it difficult to reconcile that Loki and the horse were one and the same. Still, he felt compelled to walk up to Loki and run his hands through the long white mane as he had so many times in the past year. Loki nuzzled him, letting Thor rest his head against his neck.
After Sleipnir had finished and was curled up in a patch of sunlight for his post-feeding nap, Loki transformed back, unfortunately including his clothes. Thor pounced anyway, pushing Loki back against the big oak tree in the center of the garden, kissing him deeply.
Loki returned the kiss lazily for a moment before pulling back and looking Thor straight in the eyes. “How was your day?” he asked pointedly.
“Good,” Thor replied between kisses as he nipped his way down Loki’s neck and across his bare shoulders. “Sleipnir was popular with the warriors. I think they are all fantasizing about riding eight-legged horses now.”
Loki tilted his head to accomodate Thor’s ministrations, but had not magicked away the stupid metal bodicepiece off, which appeared to be the only way to get in and out of it. “Remove this!” he commanded.
But instead of complying, Loki pushed Thor away, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. “As much as I appreciate your fervor, I know it to be a distraction.”
It was no such thing. Thor genuinely wanted Loki and he wanted Loki to know that he’d made love to him even after finding out his true heritage. It was the only thing that would convince Loki that it didn’t matter to Thor - that nothing could diminish Thor’s love for him.
Thor dived back in, ignoring the breastplate in order to focus on pulling at Loki’s pants instead. Loki swatted Thor’s hands away, even though Thor felt him hardening. He grinned. “Tell me you do not want this.”
“I don’t want it,” Loki replied, though less scathingly than if he really did not want it. “I know you spoke with mother about my paratage.”
Thor said nothing. With his full attention on Thor, Loki would see through a lie immediately.
“And I can tell by the way that you refuse to meet my eyes that you have an answer.”
Thor leaned forward again, pressing a delicate kiss against Loki’s lips. “Please,” he begged, “forget what you think you know for a minute. Let us have this.”
Loki hesitated, but after staring at Thor for what seemed like an enternity, he nodded subtly, magicking the armor away and letting Thor kiss him. Loki was passive at first, allowing Thor to lead him back into the bedroom like a sheep or a lamb, not the powerful creature that Thor knew him to be. He lay back on the bed, spreading his legs wantonly, but the fire was gone from his eyes. Thor did not appreciate the submission.
He bent down, pressing punishing bites and conciliatory kisses on Loki’s pale skin and teasing his hardness mercilessly, never letting Loki find release no matter how many times he brought him to the edge.
Thor thought Loki would let the torture continue for ages, but finally there were strong fingers in Thor’s hair, digging into his scalp and forcing him down. But Thor was always the stronger of the two of them, so he pulled away, surging forward to trap Loki’s arms down against the bed as he kissed him, releaved to feel his passion returned. Loki stood no chance of overpowering Thor by brute strength, but he waved his hand and suddenly they were flipped around, Loki straddling Thor with a wicked grin on his lips.
When Loki pulled his hands away, Thor was surprised that his hands could not follow, pegged above him by magic. Another spell caused colorful sparks to dance down his skin, some hot and other’s freezing cold as they brushed over Thor’s most sensitive areas, soliciting growls of pain and pleasure.
Loki used his hand on Thor’s manhood, but it did not feel like a hand, but rather some tight moist space that seemed to squeeze and vibrate, as tight around Thor as a glove. He arched up off the bed, thrusting or trying to buck Loki off; he couldn’t really tell which. And when he thought he might come, a small chain materialized out of nowhere wrapping itself tightly around the base of his manhood.
“You are devious,” Thor protested.
“You started it,” Loki replied, while sliding himself up Thor’s body to kiss him. Thor rutted against Loki’s lithe body, cursing his lover’s ruthelessness when more magic materialized to pin Thor down.
After what seemed like ages of this exquisite torture, Loki pulled back, summoning a vial of oil and reaching back to prepare himself.
“Wait!” Thor protested.
Loki arched an eyebrow. “You would remain like that?”
Thor probably looked like an animal on a skewer prepared for a roast, but he didn’t care. “I want you to take me. I need to feel it.” He did not mention that this might be their last chance, before Loki knew the secret and things changed between them.
Loki seemed to understand the melachology behind Thor’s words, because with a wave of his hand, Thor was free again, all spells stopped. He surged up, pullling Loki to him with a desperate kiss. “Please, Loki, give me this.”
Loki relented, kissing Thor deeply as his slick fingers quested. They felt like a shiver over Thor’s hole, making him thrust sharply into Loki’s hip at the sensation.
“Eager, are we?” Loki chuckled, kissing down Thor’s chest to suck at Thor’s hardness as a distraction from the fingers that plunged into Thor unexpectedly.
Thor bucked up into Loki’s mouth instinctively, but Loki did not pause, his fingers massaging, pistoning, spreading, until they hit a spot that made Thor choke on a gasp. He had imagined it would be good, but he had never imagined this good. He nearly bit through his lip in the effort not to cry out.
Loki returned to give Thor a quelling kiss while his fingers probed. “Be as loud as you like. I have muffled the sound.”
Thor responded with a long, gasping moan as Loki’s fingers continued to worry at that one spot that drove Thor wild.
“Are you ready?” Loki purred. “Ready to lose this maindenhead to me once and for all?”
Thor nodded, too incoherent now with pleasure to speak.
Loki removed his fingers, eliciting a whimper from Thor before using another spell to flip Thor over, positioning a pillow beneath his hips. He pressed light kisses to Thor’s neck and shoulders, whispering. “It will be easier this way. Just relax and let me take you. Trust me.”
Thor nodded. He trusted Loki. He would give him this. He would give him everything.
Thor tensed a little when he felt Loki’s hardness press up against his hole, but a few soothing whispers and caresses had him relaxing again. The intrusion was not painful when Loki slid home, but Thor’s instict was to tense, to throw this person who would dare breach him off. But Thor held still as Loki pressed flush against him, breathing in deep and slow in order to summon the power to still himself.
He pressed a kiss against the back of Thor’s neck, whispering, “You are doing splendingly, Thor. You are wonderful. Just like that.”
And then Loki moved, slowly at first, eliciting moans between pleasure and pain from Thor before he once again found that secret spot that transformed those little moans into harsh, wonderful gasps.
Thor knew that Loki was ice at his core, but the fire he lit in Thor’s body burned like a great forest-destroying blaze. Thor pushed back into Loki, then forward into the bed. He bucked and moaned like some wild beast in heat, because it was simultaneously too much and not enough. At some point, the sparks of magic returned, wrapping their way around his body like the hands of many lovers, touching every sensative, secret spot, even the ones that Thor did not think Loki had discovered yet.
Loki hitched Thor up and back onto him, driving himself inside deeper still and wrapping his hand once again around Thor’s own hardness. It was too much and Thor spilled his seed with a scream, grunting and moaning though the aftershooks as Loki finished himself with a few more deep thrusts into Thor’s body.
Another spell summoned a bowl of warm water and a soft cloth that Loki used to clean them. His eyes were lidded and he looked at Thor with such reverance that despite his exhaustion, Thor pulled Loki’s pliant body to him, kissing him deeply. “I love you,” Thor said as he drifted off to sleep with Loki curled loosly at his side.
His last thought before dreams overtook him was that when they awoke from this pleasant doze, everything would have to change.
Next Chapter: Blue Skin, White Masks
Chapter 15: Thor Odinson, Spymaster
Thor awoke, missing the warmth of Loki’s body beside him. It did not take long to discover that today Loki had made it out of the bedroom in order to feed Sleipnir. They were on the terrace eating some of the overgrown grass that had sprouted between the rose bushes. Thor pulled his clothes on hastily before joining them.
Loki had cried himself to sleep in Thor’s arms the previous night, like he had not done since they were children and Loki was frustrated by his failings in combat lessons. Thor worried for him. Loki had not always been favored by their father and knowing that it was so most likely because he was not their father’s son by blood could only worsen Loki’s feelings of inadequacy. Thor wished, not for the first time, that his brother were not so sensitive. Of course, there was always the possibility that Thor was the unrelated one, but neither had bothered to indulge that notion. Thor looked very much like both their parents and shared many of their qualities, while Loki had always been different.
The real question, other than if Loki was actually correct in his deductions, was why their parents had bothered to hide such a fact. Adopting foundlings was considered a noble tradition on Asgard and would have been met with praise. There was something else going on and Thor was determined to find out what it was. He resolved to visit thier mother before the warrior inspections he and the Council had scheduled began.
As Thor exited onto the terrace, Loki transformed back into his Aesir form and pulled on a simple white tunic. He smiled at Thor, but the smile did not reach his eyes and when he spoke, there was a coldness there that had not been there before. It reminded Thor of how ruthless Loki could be when he was in a righteous mood. “Good morning, Thor.”
Thor immediately wrapped his arms around Loki from behind as they both watched Sleipnir investigate a frog that had found its way into the fish pond. They fit together perfectly. Loki was almost as tall as Thor, so he didn’t feel like a giant, but his slighter form was still the perfect size to be enveloped completely in Thor’s protective embrace. To Thor, this felt right. As brothers, they had always been physically close, but there had been a straining quality to it. Even though they never felt uncomfortable embracing, a part of Thor must have always subconsciously itched for more, because every previous touch, no matter how intimate, felt like a shadow of his true feelings.
He placed a kiss on the back of Loki’s neck and Loki turned, his voice still echoing that coldness that none of Thor’s affectionate touches could dispel. “Can you take Sleipnir with you when you assemble the warriors today?” Loki asked. “I am troubled by the magic in Jotunheim. I have books in my rooms and in the library that might shed light on the subject, but I will need the morning to locate them.”
Thor did not like the idea of explaining why he was bringing a foal to training, but Loki was probably the only one who could understand the magic on Jotunheim and it was a strategic advantage they could not afford to waste. What bothered Thor more was Loki’s clear determination to ignore the revelations of the previous evening. Thor understood that this was a different kind of strength - to keep emotions in reserve and soldier on with what needed to be done. It was not a skill either Thor or his father possessed.
He at once admired the discipline it clearly took to pretend as though nothing had happened and worried that such shielding of emotion could lead to even more perverse outcomes. Thor remembered all the resentments Loki had kept hidden from him until recently and wondered if it would not have been better if Loki had told Thor long ago. Still, Loki was entitled to his grief, no matter what form it took. Thor would just have to be on alert for the day when it finally cracked the cool veneer that Loki now projected.
Thor kissed Loki softly. “I have promised to break my fast with our mother. But when I return, Sleipnir shall accompany me for the morning.” Thor had not spoken to his mother about dining together, but she had recently lamented that she did not see enough of her son outside of the formality of Court. It was only a small lie, but still Thor felt accomplished when Loki did not notice it. Perhaps he was learning.
He would need to be, considering the lies he planned to tell.
***
Frigga looked surprised to see Thor, but her surprise soon melted into genuine enjoyment. Thor relished in the feel of his mother’s comfort, lingering a moment too long when she hugged him to her. Thor had needed to be the strong one last night, providing comfort when he, too, felt confused and distraught both by the fact that Loki was not his brother and that the woman whose comfort he now craved had lied to them their entire lives.
“What is it, my darling?” Frigga asked. Her gaze was knowing and her expression so soft and motherly that Thor had to fight to remember that she was potentially a liar and certainly a woman who had used magic against her own son.
Thor had always thought his mother lacked the ruthlessness to rule, with all of her soft smiles and her painful sympathy, but now he realized that she was every inch the Queen, with the ability to manipulate with her innocence and the will to do so. And now that the suspicion had grown in him, Thor forgot the woman whose shoulder he once cried upon and whose sweet voice sang the childhood lullabies that sent him into comfortable, dreamless sleep.
Thor remembered what Loki had said about a great lie. A great lie was a lie made up of as many scraps of truth that could be sewn together into a whole. It came sandwiched between truthful things and, if possible, was always accompanied by genuine emotion.
Thor breathed deeply, like the moments of pregnant silence before battle. The first truth. “I have not been entirely honest with you, Mother.”
Frigga’s eyes flashed momentarily with betrayal and, surprisingly, greed. Thor realized that for all they had joked about the gossips of the Queen’s sewing circle, his mother genuinely hungered for and coveted all secrets. It was another kind of strength that Thor did not yet understand: the possession of knowledge.
Frigga eyed Thor critically, but remained calm, spreading butter and barberry jam over her morning sweetbread with little concern. She had used the same trick of nonchalance when they were young and Thor and Loki had gotten up to some mischief. Thor always broke even though Loki would always get back at him for it afterwards.
Thor ate his own meal, stalling. But his mother’s attention didn’t waver. She waited patiently for Thor to spill his secret.
“I know where Loki is. I have been sneaking off to see him.”
“I suspected as much,” Frigga replied cooly. “Where is he?”
“I cannot tell you,” Thor replied.
His mother just stared at him expectantly.
“You would not have me break my oath to him.”
Frigga sighed. “I fear many a terrible thing when the two of you work together, but I would not have you break your brotherly bond.” Thor felt relieved until she continued, “But I have not been pressuring you to reveal this to me, despite my suspicions. You have come to me of your own volition and, unlike your brother, you are incredibly reactionary. You came here specifically to tell me this because something has happened and you need me to intervene, oath or not.”
Here was the turn, the place where the lie fit so neatly. “Loki knows everything, mother. He has not shared it all with me, but he knows that we are not true brothers and nothing I say will convince him to return.”
Frigga looked heartbroken. Guilt, remorse, regret - they were all expressions that Thor was unaccustomed to seeing on the faces of either of his parents. “Thor, you must understand, it was an impossible decision. We knew that lying to our children was wrong, but we also did it for your own protection. The best of all possible worlds would be if you never found out.”
“But why?” Thor demanded. “The people would have smiled on your generosity for taking a foundling into your home. I would have loved Loki no less.”
Frigga laughed. “Have you learned so little of politics sitting beside me on the throne? The people would never have accepted a Jotun in the royal household.”
A Jotun? Thor felt his blood run cold. It couldn’t be, and yet it made more sense than anything Thor had heard in a long while. It explained Loki’s penchant for ice-magic, his imperviousness to the cold, the fevers when he was young, his strange fertility. It was more than not being brothers. Thor and Loki were not even the same species.
Not only that, but Thor had taken Loki. He had lain with a frost giant. It was not the same as Fandral’s sordid tales of the forbidden by unequalled passions he hoped to one day consummate. They said that making love to a frost giant would encase your heart in ice and ruin you for any other until the end of time. It had been intense and real and like nothing Thor had ever felt before. Was his love for Loki some frost giant enchantment that overwhelmed his rational mind - the part that proclaimed them to be brothers?
Thor felt bile rise in him, not because he was disgusted by what had been an amazing act, but because with all the twisted lies, the secrets, the circumstances of their joining, Thor could no longer be sure that the previously-pure love he felt was genuine. Thor could abide by many things, but he could not stand the thought that he was not the master of his own fate.
Frigga stood, laying a gentle hand on Thor’s shoulder. “You did not know.” She sighed. “Of course, he would not tell you more than the essentials. My poor boy, he probably fears your reaction.” Her fingers ran up Thor’s arm and under his chin, tilting it up to look at her. “You would not reject him for this. I know you will not.”
“Of course I would not. I love him.” If only his mother knew how much . . . . “But how did this come to be? Why?”
“It was your father’s doing. Perhaps not a wise decision at the time, but he is impulsive and for the most part his impulses are for the better. After defeating Laufey, your father touched the Casket of Ancient Winters to steal it away from Jotunheim and thus cripple Laufey’s power. But your father has Jotun blood in his veins. He said it compelled him.”
“It compelled him?”
“Your brother knows more of this than either of us, Thor, but it is said among the mages that such objects of great power have their own intentions. Their reach across the universe is profound and their knowledge of its secrets breathtaking. Their consciousness is not as ours and their intentions are obscured, their motivations complex beyond all imagining. But they manipulate the threads of fate as though they are harpsichord strings. We still do not know for what purpose the Casket compelled your father to search deeper in the palace chambers, to find a Jotun babe, abandoned, too-small for his kind. We still do not know if Loki is meant to be a snake in our house planted by an artifact loyal to only its own kind, or a boon meant to draw our two peoples together.”
If Thor had felt sick before, he felt even worse now. A snake in their house? Had Thor missed this fear in his parents all along? He most likely had, but Loki would not have overlooked it. Perhaps all his imagined slights were not so imagined.
“Don’t look at me that way, Thor. I know better than anyone that we are mere pawns of fate. I never loved Loki less for fear of the future. He is my son and from the moment I held him in my arms I have loved him fiercely.”
Thor knew he was wrong to doubt his mother, who had always favored Loki. It was his father that could be blamed - for all of this. “And father?”
“He loves your brother dearly, though in recent years he has grown suspicious of his intentions, perhaps rightfully so. Loki is trully of another species to Odin, as much as he is Odin’s son. I fear that neither one understands the other, but that is also a common problem between fathers and headstrong sons.”
“Loki is not a snake in our house, mother,” Thor protested. “For all his tricks, he has made me a better man and he will make me a better king. The fate the Casket has chosen for us - it must be a boon.”
Frigga sighed. “Yes, but a boon for whom? I have spent ages at my loom in meditation on the subject and the only conclusion I can draw is that your brother, as Laufey’s son, is the Casket’s true master. It drew your father to it in order to save Loki’s life. Odin won that war through prowess in battle and because Laufey was never able to use the Casket on him. It lost the war for Jotunheim and it brought Loki, its true master, here with us. It is a boon for Loki, but what of the rest of us?”
“Loki is my brother,” Thor declared. “I am as bound to him as the Casket is. What is a boon for Loki is a boon for me and shall be a boon for Asgard.”
Frigga studied him carefully. As his mother, she could crack open any mask and tear open any door holding back secrets. She let out a harsh gasp. “Thor? Have you and Loki . . .”
Thor could not bear to hear her finished that sentence and pull his most painful secret to the light of day.
“I’m sorry mother, but I must take my leave. The warriors must be prepared for battle. Now that I know the full extent of this, I hope to be able to convince my brother to return.”
He stalked off before Frigga could stop him.
***
Sleipnir had proved to be a useful tool in inspiring the men. When Thor asked Sif how he was going to explain babysitting an eight-legged foal, she had just rolled her eyes and said that she would take care of it.
Sif taking care of it turned out to be an inspiring speech in which she talked about creativity in battle. She talked about how there had been no changes to the basic qualities of a horse in milenia, with some stronger and others faster, but not drastic changes. Except now, an eight legged-foal was born that could outrun even the biggest racing stallions and outsmart a few of the stupidest men. Sif spoke of how the last war with Jotunheim had been a close battle and that the battle techniques that had worked for millennia needed creative new approaches. Asgard would find them.
Thor had planned to tell the warriors that he’d misplaced the foal’s mother so all in all it proved much better to allow Sif to handle things.
The warriors were prepared for battle and even more eager than Thor anticipated. Perhapse Loki had been right when he talked about unsated bloodlust. Thor hoped that it would not matter - that King Laufey would prove as untrustworthy as Thor had always believed him to be and they could go to war. Thor had faith that his warriors would fight well and hard and the war would end quickly, quickly enough to prepare for this enemy that Loki insisted lurked beyond the arms of Yggdrasil. Loki underestimated the good it could do to give the warriors some real fighting practice.
Even though war was supposedly a grave thing, Thor could still not seem to focus on the battle preparations, not with the new revelation that Loki was a Jotun himself swirling around in his head. It didn’t change anything about the love Thor felt for him. And it didn’t make Thor trust him less, except to maybe make sure to keep him away from the Casket and its schemes. But it would change things between them. Thor didn’t know how exactly, but he knew that Loki would be deeply affected by it. Thor thought back to all of the things he had said and still believed about the Jotun (the ones who had not be raised differently). They were disgusting monsters who deserved the war that was upon them. Loki would not forget those words. Loki almost never forgot anything.
Thor braced himself as he and Sleipnir walked up to the gate of the garden terrace. Sleipnir rushed inside immediately, happy to see his father. Loki did not stop what he was doing at Sleipnir’s excited antics, but petted the little horse absently when he nudged at his father.
Loki had cleared Thor’s desk and moved it over to the window overlooking the terrace. In the golden sunlight that spilled in through the window, he looked radiant, surrounded by books and manuscripts with a relaxed, but pensive expression on his face. He had abandoned the comfortable tunics he had seemed to favor since he transformed into an Aesir once again, and was instead wearing a more casual variation on his ceremonial robes - green and black with interwoven silver and gold plates. The difference was that this version had no sleeves, revealing Loki’s thin but well-defined arms and the pale skin of his shoulders. Thor had, admittedly, worried that now that he knew Loki’s true heritage, he might be physically repulsed by him. But Loki was as beautiful as ever, not a spec of blue skin or red eyes to be seen. Even if Jotun blood ran through his veins, Loki had been raised on Asgard as Thor’s brother, with Aesir traditions and values and the warmth of the sun and people who loved him instead of in a barren wasteland by hateful frost giants.
After one too many nudges and little nips, Loki sighed, magicked away his clothes, and stood, transforming instantly in order to feed Sleipnir. Thor had been used to giving Loki his space when he was nursing. It was a little too surreal for Thor anyway, to be reminded that Loki was someone’s mother. In fact, Thor was still finding it difficult to reconcile that Loki and the horse were one and the same. Still, he felt compelled to walk up to Loki and run his hands through the long white mane as he had so many times in the past year. Loki nuzzled him, letting Thor rest his head against his neck.
After Sleipnir had finished and was curled up in a patch of sunlight for his post-feeding nap, Loki transformed back, unfortunately including his clothes. Thor pounced anyway, pushing Loki back against the big oak tree in the center of the garden, kissing him deeply.
Loki returned the kiss lazily for a moment before pulling back and looking Thor straight in the eyes. “How was your day?” he asked pointedly.
“Good,” Thor replied between kisses as he nipped his way down Loki’s neck and across his bare shoulders. “Sleipnir was popular with the warriors. I think they are all fantasizing about riding eight-legged horses now.”
Loki tilted his head to accomodate Thor’s ministrations, but had not magicked away the stupid metal bodicepiece off, which appeared to be the only way to get in and out of it. “Remove this!” he commanded.
But instead of complying, Loki pushed Thor away, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. “As much as I appreciate your fervor, I know it to be a distraction.”
It was no such thing. Thor genuinely wanted Loki and he wanted Loki to know that he’d made love to him even after finding out his true heritage. It was the only thing that would convince Loki that it didn’t matter to Thor - that nothing could diminish Thor’s love for him.
Thor dived back in, ignoring the breastplate in order to focus on pulling at Loki’s pants instead. Loki swatted Thor’s hands away, even though Thor felt him hardening. He grinned. “Tell me you do not want this.”
“I don’t want it,” Loki replied, though less scathingly than if he really did not want it. “I know you spoke with mother about my paratage.”
Thor said nothing. With his full attention on Thor, Loki would see through a lie immediately.
“And I can tell by the way that you refuse to meet my eyes that you have an answer.”
Thor leaned forward again, pressing a delicate kiss against Loki’s lips. “Please,” he begged, “forget what you think you know for a minute. Let us have this.”
Loki hesitated, but after staring at Thor for what seemed like an enternity, he nodded subtly, magicking the armor away and letting Thor kiss him. Loki was passive at first, allowing Thor to lead him back into the bedroom like a sheep or a lamb, not the powerful creature that Thor knew him to be. He lay back on the bed, spreading his legs wantonly, but the fire was gone from his eyes. Thor did not appreciate the submission.
He bent down, pressing punishing bites and conciliatory kisses on Loki’s pale skin and teasing his hardness mercilessly, never letting Loki find release no matter how many times he brought him to the edge.
Thor thought Loki would let the torture continue for ages, but finally there were strong fingers in Thor’s hair, digging into his scalp and forcing him down. But Thor was always the stronger of the two of them, so he pulled away, surging forward to trap Loki’s arms down against the bed as he kissed him, releaved to feel his passion returned. Loki stood no chance of overpowering Thor by brute strength, but he waved his hand and suddenly they were flipped around, Loki straddling Thor with a wicked grin on his lips.
When Loki pulled his hands away, Thor was surprised that his hands could not follow, pegged above him by magic. Another spell caused colorful sparks to dance down his skin, some hot and other’s freezing cold as they brushed over Thor’s most sensitive areas, soliciting growls of pain and pleasure.
Loki used his hand on Thor’s manhood, but it did not feel like a hand, but rather some tight moist space that seemed to squeeze and vibrate, as tight around Thor as a glove. He arched up off the bed, thrusting or trying to buck Loki off; he couldn’t really tell which. And when he thought he might come, a small chain materialized out of nowhere wrapping itself tightly around the base of his manhood.
“You are devious,” Thor protested.
“You started it,” Loki replied, while sliding himself up Thor’s body to kiss him. Thor rutted against Loki’s lithe body, cursing his lover’s ruthelessness when more magic materialized to pin Thor down.
After what seemed like ages of this exquisite torture, Loki pulled back, summoning a vial of oil and reaching back to prepare himself.
“Wait!” Thor protested.
Loki arched an eyebrow. “You would remain like that?”
Thor probably looked like an animal on a skewer prepared for a roast, but he didn’t care. “I want you to take me. I need to feel it.” He did not mention that this might be their last chance, before Loki knew the secret and things changed between them.
Loki seemed to understand the melachology behind Thor’s words, because with a wave of his hand, Thor was free again, all spells stopped. He surged up, pullling Loki to him with a desperate kiss. “Please, Loki, give me this.”
Loki relented, kissing Thor deeply as his slick fingers quested. They felt like a shiver over Thor’s hole, making him thrust sharply into Loki’s hip at the sensation.
“Eager, are we?” Loki chuckled, kissing down Thor’s chest to suck at Thor’s hardness as a distraction from the fingers that plunged into Thor unexpectedly.
Thor bucked up into Loki’s mouth instinctively, but Loki did not pause, his fingers massaging, pistoning, spreading, until they hit a spot that made Thor choke on a gasp. He had imagined it would be good, but he had never imagined this good. He nearly bit through his lip in the effort not to cry out.
Loki returned to give Thor a quelling kiss while his fingers probed. “Be as loud as you like. I have muffled the sound.”
Thor responded with a long, gasping moan as Loki’s fingers continued to worry at that one spot that drove Thor wild.
“Are you ready?” Loki purred. “Ready to lose this maindenhead to me once and for all?”
Thor nodded, too incoherent now with pleasure to speak.
Loki removed his fingers, eliciting a whimper from Thor before using another spell to flip Thor over, positioning a pillow beneath his hips. He pressed light kisses to Thor’s neck and shoulders, whispering. “It will be easier this way. Just relax and let me take you. Trust me.”
Thor nodded. He trusted Loki. He would give him this. He would give him everything.
Thor tensed a little when he felt Loki’s hardness press up against his hole, but a few soothing whispers and caresses had him relaxing again. The intrusion was not painful when Loki slid home, but Thor’s instict was to tense, to throw this person who would dare breach him off. But Thor held still as Loki pressed flush against him, breathing in deep and slow in order to summon the power to still himself.
He pressed a kiss against the back of Thor’s neck, whispering, “You are doing splendingly, Thor. You are wonderful. Just like that.”
And then Loki moved, slowly at first, eliciting moans between pleasure and pain from Thor before he once again found that secret spot that transformed those little moans into harsh, wonderful gasps.
Thor knew that Loki was ice at his core, but the fire he lit in Thor’s body burned like a great forest-destroying blaze. Thor pushed back into Loki, then forward into the bed. He bucked and moaned like some wild beast in heat, because it was simultaneously too much and not enough. At some point, the sparks of magic returned, wrapping their way around his body like the hands of many lovers, touching every sensative, secret spot, even the ones that Thor did not think Loki had discovered yet.
Loki hitched Thor up and back onto him, driving himself inside deeper still and wrapping his hand once again around Thor’s own hardness. It was too much and Thor spilled his seed with a scream, grunting and moaning though the aftershooks as Loki finished himself with a few more deep thrusts into Thor’s body.
Another spell summoned a bowl of warm water and a soft cloth that Loki used to clean them. His eyes were lidded and he looked at Thor with such reverance that despite his exhaustion, Thor pulled Loki’s pliant body to him, kissing him deeply. “I love you,” Thor said as he drifted off to sleep with Loki curled loosly at his side.
His last thought before dreams overtook him was that when they awoke from this pleasant doze, everything would have to change.
Next Chapter: Blue Skin, White Masks