Endlessly

Hive Mind

The battles raged on for years, but eventually, we were overpowered by Asgard's soldiers and Odin took back the Casket.

Very quickly after that, our crops, our forests and our flowers all began to die. Without the DNA altering effects of our vernonoas, we could no longer survive the wretched cold. The giants began to parish in massive quantities, only those unusually large in stature or particularly adept in magic survived. It continued on like that for years; Over half of the Jotun race dead in a matter of days, the survivors doing everything they could to adapt and reproduce."

She turns her focus to Loki. "When I said that we were just as your people once, I also meant in appearance. We have always been larger than the Aesir and Vanir, sure- but the blue and green skin, the teeth, the eyes- they are all a result of having to survive the cold and dark.

'Tis why your form is so beautiful, Pretty Boy. You've never had to survive. You never would have survived." She growls, her anger clearly bubbling up within her.

Loki's eyes fill with remorse, his next words dripping with conflict. "Fathe- Odin has only told me horrific stories of the giants, that they are merciless and cruel-"

"That's rich, coming from the mouth of the realms' most brutal leader." She spits, storming to the kitchen to grab a stool and dragging it across the stone floor with a horrid screech.

"How many of you are left?" Your voice is shaking. "How many survivors?"

She folds herself onto the stool. "A hundred. Maybe more, maybe less."

"Gods-" You hold your hand over your gaping mouth, a little bit embarrassed when tears fill your eyes and quickly run down your cheeks.

Making an obvious point to ignore your sudden emotional outburst, she continues. "I'm taking the two of you to Utgard today to speak with Laufey."

"I killed him" Loki finally speaks again.

"That was not Laufey." The giantess laughs.

Loki furrows his brow.

"Your mother, Queen Laufey is alive and well." She continues with a smirk.

Before either of you can respond, she continues, a smug sort of timbre in her next words. "Do you know how honeybees survive, my child?" She shifts forward on the stool, resting her thin, knobby elbows on her equally angular knees, the position making her appear far more child-like than you assume her age reflects.

You stare back at her in bemused silence when her magenta eyes connect with yours.

"The worker bees, they are all female. Work, work, work." She clicks her tongue three times. "Drones- those are the males. They have but one purpose- to breed.

When the Casket was stolen and the eternal darkness fell upon us, almost all of our males died. Perhaps because Jotun women are larger than the men, perhaps because of some other genetic factors we don't understand. Either way, it became exceedingly clear that we needed to make adjustments to our political systems and enact new policies.

Within weeks of the mass devastation of our realm, our first Queen was crowned, and an entirely female council appointed.

Now, the queen has many drones. They all do as she commands without question." She pauses briefly, seeming to ponder her next words, something you'd yet to see her do. "May the gods smile a little brighter upon the drone you murdered in your would-be father's name."

"You're lying." Loki growls, exposing his bottom teeth as his lips linger on the tail end of his words.

"Ah, yes. That is to be expected. Go ahead, my prince- trust the people who have been lying to you your entire life... after all, you barely know me." She clicks her tongue again, just once this time, before chuckling to herself and striding away to the far corner of the space, once again searching for something.

"It was an Asgardian arrow that injured you that day." Hilund returns, handing Loki each end of a broken arrow, stained with the young prince's dried blood from all those years ago.

"What?" Loki snaps his gaze to hers, his tone frostbitten.

"The house of Odin... is full of traitors." She clicks her tongue.

The arrowhead is a brilliant gold, with someone's insignia etched into the side. The ornate fletching is composed of the unmistakable red feathers of a fjalar, a bird native only to Asgard.

A rapid wave of Loki's seidr washes over the pieces of the arrow, vanishing it from thin air before you can get a better look at the insignia.

"That doesn't mean anything. We were young, we'd hardly seen battle. They were afraid- the snow and the wind-" You place your hand on Loki's thigh, a small, simple gesture of comfort, and he ceases his rant immediately at your touch. "You... you weren't there." His grief-saturated gaze searches yours.

"I believe you." You nod, holding back the tears caused by what to you, seems like a very obvious betrayal.

"It would be wisest to not do that often, Little One." Hilund's barb comes off more genuine than you're sure how to process.

She gathers your mugs and returns them to the kitchen.

"What are we going to do?" You whisper to Loki while Hilund is out of earshot.

He takes hold of both of your hands, resting his forehead against yours. "We're going to let Hilund take us to the capital."