Enola: Child Of Mischief

Mine To Me

Enola stood along side their father, with the rest of the warriors. They all sat around a large, burning fire discussing Thor's banishment- The usual glee far, far away.
Volstagg lifted his head, looking to the saddened warriors around him.

"We should have never let him go."

Lady Sif lifted her head, never looking away from the fire infront of her.

"There was no stopping him."
"At least he's only banished, not dead. Which is what we would be if that gaurd hadn't told Odin where we'd gone."

Fandral looked to Enola, who seemed to be mezmerized by the flames before them. At his words Loki's head fell, and he gazed at his hands- Flashes of the battle hours before replaying over and over in his mind.
A small silence filled the room, before Volstagg looked up from his, now empty, tankard.

"How did the gaurd even know?"

Loki looked to the group, as Enola slowly clenched their fists.

'So that's why he was talking to the gaurd..'

"I told him."

Everyone looked to Loki, confusion lacing their features. Fandral looked between the father and child, before resting his gaze upon Loki.

"What?"
"I told him to go to Odin after we had left-"
"YOU told the gaurd?!"

Loki then turned his full attention to the group, fidgeting with his hands.

"I saved our lives, and Thors. I had no idea father would banish him for what he did."

Enola looked to fandral, who could only give a confused, worried glance back. Their gaze quickly found the floor again, their hands shaking, as questions continued to fly in and out of their mind.
They looked to their hands as their father had mere seconds ago, a familiar coldness beginning to fill them once again. The same coldness they felt the entirety of their time on Jotunheim.

Enola was snapped from their thoughts, as their father quickly began to walk away. She looked between the group, and attempted to follow him, before a hand fell a top their shoulder.
Enola quickly turned, and was met face to face with a, shirtless, Fandral. He looked down at Enola with a soft gaze, before speaking in a hushed tone.

"Enola, are you okay? Ever since we returned, you've been acting.. Odd."

Enola once again looked to their hands, before giving Fandral a convincing smile.

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Enola pulled away from Fandrals grasp, and followed their father. Though he was far ahead of Enola, she already knew where he was heading.

Enola cast a spell, hiding themself in plain sight, as they followed their fathers tracks, until they found themself at the stairs of Odins vault. With a deep breath, they looked inside, and found their father slowly walking up to the casket. His hands shook at his sides, before they slowly lifted to grab the relic. Enola's eyes widened as they starred at their father, the old man beside of her going completely unoticed, until his voice echoed throughout the hall.
Enola covered their mouth, preventing any noise from coming out, as they quickly became thankful for their magic. Their eyes never left their father, as he began to speak.

"Am I cursed?"
"No."

A defening silence filled the air, as Loki gently sat down the casket. His back still faced Odin, whos breath dared to hitch in his throat.

"What am I?"
"You are my son."

As Loki turned to face his father, Enola's breathing ceased. Their hand tightened around their mouth as small tears brimmed in their eyes.
He was a frost giant. All along, Loki had been a frost giant.
Enola gazed upon the icy skin of her father, silencing the sobs with threatened to echo throughout the halls.