Big Brother
He'd never noticed how cold it was down here before. The dank, chill air penetrated his heavy cote and he shivered, breath escaping between his lips in misty plumes. He'd only been down here with his father, whose presence had sucked away the cold and whose voice had chased away the oppressive silence.
Only his father's presence had soothed the room's lone occupant, allowing Vali to get near. He doubted he could do so alone, he would have to keep his distance.
He should not be here.
Time passed slowly in Asgard, moving in tandem with the reconstruction of the Bifrost. During those nights, Vali would sit on his bed until the light of dawn shown through his window, etching runes ever so carefully into the crystals he'd collected from the bridge. Each was labeled with their destination and his own name. Legs curled underneath him, he would not move, save the dexterous twist of his fingers and wrists, and as the hours past his eyes would burn from strain. By the time sunlight pierced between the window curtains, Vali collapsed onto his pillows, head pounding and groaning as the servants entered to pull him from bed.
During the day, Vali would drag his kicking and whining little brother into the training ring near the citadel. Nari was of age to begin the most basic of warrior training, a task that would have fallen to Loki, but now the responsibility was Vali's. He remembered quite well his own initiation into the sandy ring. He too had cried and refused to cooperate, arguing that he wanted to be a sorcerer like Loki, thus he didn't need to learn to fight. His father had promptly thrashed him and told him coldly that if he didn't want to fight, he could borrow a dress from Sif and go pick flowers in the fields like the other girls his age. Shamed, Vali stopped arguing.
Loki had softened then, and offered his son a choice. Vali could train with the other boys, of the proper art of war of Asgard and develop his magic on his own, as Loki had once done, or he could learn under his father alone. Loki would teach him in the method of battle that allowed him to use his magic most effectively when combined with physical attacks. Vali had chosen the second offer, and did not regret it, though his father never went easy on him. Too many times he'd found himself standing at the bottom of the steps to his father's wing after training, unable to ascend for the soreness of his limbs. Once or twice his uncle had taken pity on him and carried him up the stairs.
But Vali could not bring himself to strike his unprepared brother, even with simple training weapons, so went for the use of his words instead.
"I thought you wanted to join Uncle Thor on his campaigns?" Vali began, prodding his brother with a staff.
Nari shuffled his toe in the dirt, thinking, though his arms remained tightly crossed over his chest. "Yes..."
"How will you do so if he cannot trust you to aid him in battle because you do not even know how to hold a sword?" Seeing his brother still hesitating, Vali slid the tip of his dagger-tongue into the weakening point of Nari's still-developing armor, "Think how proud our uncle would be, to see you out here training. 'What a warrior nephew I have,' he'll say."
The dagger thrust home and, within moments, Nari had a wooden sword in hand and watched attentively as Vali showed him all he could remember on the holding of the weapon and the best stances.
Come evening, Vali would join the men and women in the feasting hall, his limbs and eyelids heavy from his training sessions and lack of sleep. Too many times now he had passed into slumber on the couch in their sitting room when he should have been studying, and his mother was noticing. So Vali never stayed long, grabbing a few morsels and hurrying back to his room to start on his crystal-work early. No one paid him mind anyway, for he was Lokison, and they did not have to, for he was also not yet a man. Soon though, the time of his ascension into manhood was fast approaching, his personal armor was almost complete. In fact, it was late, and when Odin had demanded to know why, Vali had been surprised when the smith did not reveal that it was Vali who had come to him alone to make alterations to the design.
It was a strange thing, then, that had made him realize his own selfishness and continued neglect of his family. With his achieved manhood, he would be head of his immediate household, despite the fact he was not the eldest son of Loki. The thought stilled his hand and he forgot his own hunger. Instead, he took a large plate, heaping it high with a variety of foods, mostly meat, and left, leaving nothing behind but a few confused glances that were quickly wiped away. He was Lokison, and so odd by nature.
The bowels of the citadel were cold, and Vali could not comprehend why, but the coldness itself seemed to be a barrier, trying to hold him at bay. He hesitated, the chill seeping through his clothes.
He should not be here.
But he must, for nothing stood before kin, and what stronger bond than that of brotherhood? He sighed, tightened his grip on the plate of food, and entered the cell.
There was no other way to describe it. It was large but bare, lacking in any aesthetic design and nothing more than a cube cut from the otherwise shimmering material that made up Gladsheim. The cell had only one occupant, but the bulk of the great wolf seemed to engulf the entirety of the gloomy room.
"Brother."
Well well, Fenrir said, as much as he actually said anything, if it isn't the favorite son.
Vali stopped a good distance from his half-brother's large mouth. "Don't be like that. Our father loved us all."
Our father? I do not care. I speak of Asgard. You come to me, dressed in all the finery of the pretty Aesir and deny favoritism?
Vali winced. He could not argue that. He and Nari were the only children of Loki that received the benefit of their godly heritage. All his elder siblings save Sleipnir had been cast away to be forgotten, unworthy of the royal household. Only Hel refused to be removed from their minds, and instead became forever part of it.
"I am sorry. I thought you may wish something to eat, though it is cold now. May I approach?"
Fenrir shifted. Bound as he was by Gleipnir, he was able to move about some, more constricted by the size of the cell. If you wish. Remember it was only our father and Tyr who ever dared come near me.
Vali placed the plate of food beside the wolf and crouched there, Fenrir's nose within his reach. "No, I recall a time you let me climb on you, though I was very young."
Father would have been angry had I harmed you, Fenrir admitted, then began to eat. The food was gone in a few mere bites, but Vali could tell his brother enjoyed it. Yet now you've come alone. Has even Father forgotten me?
"Never, brother. But I have come to tell you news of our father, and I beg your forgiveness for not having come sooner."
You have it, little brother. All my hate is saved for one alone, and you are not he.
Rising to his feet, Vali crossed the short distance between himself and the wolf. He sat beside him, arms encircling the large neck as much as they could, and buried his face in the thick, coarse fur. Just for a moment, he wanted to be the little brother, to receive the comfort as well as give it.
"Our father is gone, Fenrir. It is a long tale, and one I know not all, but I will tell you it if you want."
Tell me.
Though the cold continued to sink into his very being despite his grip on his half-brother, Vali took his time. He left out nothing, not even their father's true heritage, and even included his own conjectures of what could have led to these events, certain that Fenrir had already made them. His brother was clever; how else had he managed to get Tyr's hand as payment for this imprisonment?
When the tale was done, Vali did not know what the wolf's reaction would be. Anger? Sorrow? What he did not expect was for Fenrir to raise his head, forcing Vali to let go of his neck, and snort in derision.
Think you our father dead? Nonsense. One such as he will not die from so simple an act as a fall. It is not his way.
"I am glad to hear you think so. I was hoping..."
You should not be. I, for one, am glad for his absence.
Vali stood, too fast and nearly stumbled. "What? Why? Do you not love our father?"
It is because of my love I wish him gone. After all, Fenrir drew back his lips into a fierce smile, I would not wish him to witness the day I break free and swallow Odin False-Father whole!
Fenrir laughed then, as a wolf would, mouth open with the lips drawn back, exposing his fangs, and tongue extended and curled. The sound was a choking keen that set Vali scrambling.
He grabbed the plate and ran. The sound of Fenrir's hideous laugh followed him until the air grew warm and sweet again.