The room had remained in silence for a long while, the warriors sulking in their defeat. Once the room began to darken, with the setting sun, Sif stood up.
"Come one, Abi," she announced."We're going home."
I gulped, knowing the extent of the trouble we would be in with our parents when we returned, and stood up, quickly following my sister out the door. I nodded to the Warriors Three in farewell, receiving short "goodbyes" in return, before I dashed after SIf.
She was marching towards the front of the palace, where we had entered this morning. That felt like lifetimes ago, after what we had endured today. With everything that had happened, it seemed as if the interrupted coronation had taken place years ago.
I kept a few paces behind Sif as she stomped along the halls, keeping my footsteps quiet, so as not to interrupt her silent anger. Suddenly, she turned around.
"You, head home," she ordered, pointing to the doorway at the end of the corridor. "I must speak with the guards, briefly."
I nodded—not wanting to disagree with her, while she was in this mood—and continued along the hallway I was currently travelling down. I had almost reached the outside of the throne room, when a door to my left burst open, and two armoured guards raced out of it, carrying—what looked to be—Odin's unmoving form.
My eyes widened in surprise as I stopped in my tracks, watching them race towards the healing room. I shook my head in confusion, peering into the doorway that was left ajar. A staircase led down into an uninviting darkness. Few lights were illuminating the place and I could barely make out its structure.
I looked around, making sure no one was nearby, before I entered the dark room and descended the stone stairs.
"You shouldn't be here."
I jumped in fright at the bodiless voice, whipping my head back and forth to try and locate its owner. Suddenly, I noticed a figure at the bottom of the stairs. It was hunched over and facing the other direction.
I slowly approached it, lowering myself into a sedentary position, beside it. I turned to my right to face it, only to notice that it was Loki. He was staring straight ahead, stray tears falling down his cheeks. But that was not the unsettling part. His eyes were glowing with an intense emotion that I could not decipher. Betrayal? Grief, maybe?
I turned my head to face ahead of us, where a long corridor stretched onto a stone pedestal, where a blue box sat on top. That must be the casket the Jotuns tried to steal, I deduced. I looked around at the other relics in the room, each impressing me just as much as the last. There were so many powerful items in here that did not belong to this realm. I did not want to imagine how Odin had got a hold of them all.
I flicked my eyes over to Loki, who was still staring straight ahead. Finding the silence uncomfortable, I went against my better judgement and spoke.
"Are you alright?" I asked quietly, not wanting to completely shatter the silence. "Is Odin alright?"
Loki scoffed indignantly, tearing his gaze away from the casket. "How should I know?" He asked rhetorically, looking at me. "Did you not just see the guards hauling him out?"
I nodded. "I did." He turned back to the casket, ignoring me, but I pestered on. "What happened?"
"I do not wish to discuss it," Loki answered simply. "And as far as I'm concerned, it's none of your business."
Now it was my turn to scoff at his childish demeanour. "Fine," I sighed. "I'm just trying to be nice."
I made to stand up and leave, but Loki grasped my hand gently, tugging me back down onto the steps. I pulled my hand from his grasp and huffed in exasperation.
What?" I asked sarcastically. "You want to be nice now?"
Loki remained silent for a few moments, before he spoke. "Apparently, I am not Odin's son."
I tilted my head in confusion, instantly regretting my snarky tone. "What are you talking about?"
He looked up at me, with hurt and betrayal etched onto his face. "Laufey's son."
My eyes widened in horror. Laufey's son? He can't be related to Laufey. He's a Frost Giant.
"What?" I exclaimed dumbly. "How can that be? You're-"
Suddenly Loki's face completely changed colour. His once pale, fair skin was now a light, frosty blue colour. His emerald green eyes were now staring at me with a deadly scarlet, pleading me to understand.
I felt my muscles prepare to jump back, as far away as I possibly could, to get away from whatever this creature was, but I held firm, refusing to tear my gaze away from Loki's new identity.
Almost as quickly as the façade changed, it disappeared again, returning to Loki's normal form. I blinked in surprise as he watched me intently.
"You're a Frost Giant?" I asked, more as a confirmation, considering he just showed me his true form. "Wait, does that mean Thor isn't your brother?"
Loki turned away again, refusing to meet my eyes. "No," he simply responded, resuming his position of leaning forward on the stairs.
I sighed in confusion. Did Odin just tell him this? My heart panged in sympathy for this man. He had gone his whole life, believing he was part of a family, when in reality, he was the enemy.
Knowing that there was nothing I could do to ease his pain, I gently grabbed his limp hand, gasping at its coolness. It was colder than a living person's hand should be. But due to recent revelations, I understood why. I squeezed it gently, holding it in my lap reassuringly.
He looked at his hand, clasped in mine, but did not withdraw it. I took that as a sign that he was not completely repulsed by me and continued to hold onto it as we sat in tense silence in the dark, cold vault.
After a while, I suddenly remembered where I was supposed to be. I immediately stood up, causing Loki to break from his reverie, as I dropped his hand. He looked up at me in confusion and disappointment?
I dusted off my trousers and stepped up a few stairs. "I have to go," I said quickly. "I was supposed to be home ages ago."
Loki stood up as well, brushing invisible dust from his leather armour, before ascending the few steps so that he was level with me, looking down at my face.
"Thank you," he said quietly, not quite meeting my eyes.
I nodded, knowing that was it and smiled gently at him. "It'll be okay, Loki," I reassured him, before escalating the remaining steps and exiting the vault.
As I was walking towards the front doors of the palace, I could see through the windows that it was completely dark. I began to run towards the exit, and as soon as I was outside, I began sprinting in the direction of home, ready to face the wrath of my parents.
***
When I arrived home, it was very late. The house was silent, as I opened the door, and I was almost hopeful that my parents were asleep, but as soon as I entered the living room, I spotted them sitting on the couch, waiting for me.
I sighed, walking over to stand before them. Sif was nowhere in sight. She had probably endured their wrath already and gone to bed. My mother stood up slowly, staring at me with an unreadable expression. I watched her unsurely, not sure what she was about to do.
But, much to my surprise, a wave of relief seemed to cross her face and she approached me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and burying her face into my neck.
I stood still for a moment, slightly confused, before reciprocating and gently wrapping my arms behind her back. I looked over at my father, who had a seemingly relieved expression on his worn face. He too stood up and wrapped his arms around the shoulders of my mother and I.
After a few moments, they pulled away, staring at me. "Are you okay?" My mother asked in concern. "Did you get hurt?"
I shook my head reassuringly, holding out my arms so she could see my jacket was completely intact. "Not a scratch."
My mother sighed in relief, her hand finding its way to the back of her neck, where it remained for a few moments. She looked up at me again, though this time, with more of a parental gleam in her eyes.
"You should have known not to follow trained warriors into Jotunheim," she said, disapprovingly. "You knew it would be dangerous. Why did you go?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "You told me to follow Sif," I answered quietly. "That's what I did."
My mother sighed again. "I have already spoken to your sister. She will not be leading you into any more dangerous situations. Especially without a weapon." She looked down at my in-tact clothes. "How did you manage then?" She asked quizzically.
I looked down at my feet. "Thor's brother lent me a dagger when we reached Jotunheim," I explained quietly.
My mother's eyes widened. "You fought the Jotuns?" Her eyes drifted to my father and they looked almost proud to see me fitting into the warriors shoes they had hoped for so long I would grow into.
She turned back to me. "Okay. I'm just glad you're safe." She ushered me towards the kitchen table, where a basic meal of bread and milk was awaiting me. "I didn't know when you would be returning home," she explained, apologetically. "Where were you anyway?"
I sat down in my seat and began breaking apart the bread. "There was a situation with the Allfather." My mother gasped a little. "I was helping Loki."
She gasped even louder this time. "Loki?" She sat beside me. "As in Thor's brother? The one Sif always complains about?"
"Yes," I groaned in response with an unmistakable eye-roll. "The very same. Why does it matter?"
My mother remained silent, watching me eat my food. "It doesn't." I could tell she was lying. "I'm just surprised, that's all. After everything Sif tells us about the prince, I didn't expect you to take to him, as she hasn't."
I shrugged, mindlessly chewing on the soft bread. "Sif just doesn't like him because he and Thor disagree," I mumbled.
My mother nodded in understanding. "I guess." As soon as I finished my meagre supper, she pushed me in the direction of my room. "Shower and go to bed. You still have to go with Sif tomorrow." She pushed me into my room. "Good night."
She shut the door, but just before it closed I responded. "Good night." The door completely closed and I stood in the centre of my room, thinking about today's events. The day had been nothing like I had expected, especially on my first outing with the warriors.
I sighed, thinking about Loki. How must he be feeling, right now? I asked myself. I could not even fathom how I would feel if my parents had told me—after so long—that I was not their true daughter. All I knew is that I would be heartbroken.
I headed over to the washroom and showered and dried myself. I changed into my pyjamas and blew out all the candles, before slipping into bed. I closed my eyes, completely drained from the eventful day. I all but fell—immediately—into a deep sleep, anticipation dwelling throughout my dreams, for what tomorrow would bring.