“Aye, brother, do try to keep up.”
The words barely register in his mind as he walks forward sluggishly, as if he were stuck in quicksand. He does not bristle at the comment nor bite his lip in irritation or give a snappy response. He just keeps walking. The chill of the air is starting to set in as night rises, but Loki does not mind (of course a Jotun isn’t bothered by the cold). In fact, he’d like to keep walking. Maybe he’d reach the end of Asgard soon and would simply fall off into eternity.
“Yes, Thor,” he whispers, keeping his head bowed (showing deference to the true Aesir, like the beast he is.) He quickens his pace but ensures he is behind Odin All-Father’s son, the heir to the throne and golden son of Asgard. A Jotun cannot stand beside an Aesir as if they were equals. No, the Jotun must walk behind, muzzled and chained so as to not cause harm, though unfortunately they lack chains. Of course, Thor does not know the viper nearby. He does not know that he has played games with a bloodthirsty monster his whole childhood. He does not know that his own parents have deceived him and allowed him to be sullied with Jotun filth his entire life. After all, Loki himself did not know until last week.
Why had he even gone to Odin’s office? He cannot remember at this point. Perhaps it was an inquiry of a spell, or a future trip to another realm. Maybe he just wanted to try his luck and see if his father (NOT YOUR FATHER, he reminds himself) would notice him for at least a few moments, even as preparations for Thor’s coronation are made. Or maybe he wanted to convince Odin to crown him instead. Loki snorted. His past self’s delusions ruined his life. What a pity.
“We have to tell him,” his mother’s voice whispered, and Loki’s illusion of invisibility nearly dropped. “Odin, we are crowning Thor soon. We will have no more excuses. Loki is an adult, he can handle the truth.”
His heart stopped. The truth? What truth? Mother had mentioned the coronation. Were they discussing his unsuitability for the throne? Did Father wish to sit him down and tell him he could not be king because he was the shadow, the spare, the one meant to raise Thor even higher by comparison?
He inched closer. The guards were posted by the hallways, but Odin never wanted them near his office. I do not want to give gifts to spies, he’d said, I have too much to offer.
“He cannot, Frigga,” his father growled. Odin slammed the table. “Do you see that boy, my queen? Truly? Because I do. He is needy and insecure. I see his face whenever I take Thor on trips to prepare for the kingship. Remember when I announced Thor would succeed me? He hid it quickly, but he looked like I had publicly disowned him.”
Loki’s mouth dried as he kept it shut, lest his thoughts erupt from his mouth. Insecure? He was not insecure. Loki knew what Odin thought of him. He knew what Frigga and Thor thought of him, what all of the court thought, what all of Asgard thought-
“Odin, Loki is not like that.”
“He interprets even the most mundane actions as the most grievous insults. That is what you told me, if I recall, when we decided to crown Thor over him.”
Loki wished his spell could truly make him disappear. He’d thought his mother
looked at him with pity, not disdain. No, he believed the disdain belonged solely to Odin. His entire body froze, too curious to run away but also terrified to keep listening.
“You know that’s not what I said,” his mother sighed. “Odin, my love, doesn’t our son have the right to know the truth about himself? Soon, you will no longer be burdened with kingship. We can take Loki to Alfheim like we’d planned, and tell him there.”
His mind kept racing. What truth could they possibly be discussing? Were his parents planning to take him on vacation to tell him he was the lesser son?
“I don’t want to lose him,” Father said. “You know that he will be devastated, Frigga.”
I already know, he wanted to scream, I already know that you favor Thor.
Odin sighed and continued, “The boy already feels so different. What will he do when he learns he is not Aesir like everyone else, but a Frost Giant?”
What.
“He will be reassured by us, darling.” He heard Frigga’s voice, but his mind could not focus on their words. Frost Giant? He dug his nails into his skin- into Frost Giant flesh- to stop himself from screaming. This had to be a joke. A prank. His parents must know he is nearby, and they must be trying to trick or fool him. Loki was Aesir. He was not a Frost Giant. He was a prince and not a monster. “Loki may not be our blood son, but he is the son we chose.”
Loki fled the hall after that.
Frost Giant. Not our blood son. Frost Giant. Not our blood son.
Those words had tormented him the entire week. If he closes his eyes, they attack, screaming into his mind. He could not look in the mirror without hearing them, and wondering what must be underneath whatever glamour is hiding his true appearance. It is all he hears in the library pouring through every book on Jotunheim and the monsters that live there.
Jotuns have blue skin and blood red eyes, the books say. Their kind is so consumed with bloodlust that they abandon the children they consider small and unworthy.
So that was how Odin found him. An abandoned Jotun runt, worthless and weak, given mercy by the King of the Aesir. He could imagine the scene: Odin All-Father wielding his spear when he comes across an infant monster. Rather than crushing its head like the creature deserved, he gathered it up in his arms and tried to make it a person.
Alas, he said mentally, there is no fighting nature, All-Father.
It all makes sense now. Why everyone held him at an arm’s length.Why despite how desperately he tried, he was always Loki, Thor’s shadow, not Loki, Odin’s son. Why he was never destined to be king after all. Everyone knew. Even if their minds did not, their bodies did. Everyone in Asgard knew that Jotuns were dangerous, bizarre, and evil creatures in their bones. They knew Loki was a monster, even if they didn’t know why.
He pored over more books on the Frost Giants, whether it be the countless Aesir they’d slaughtered or their barbaric and diseased costumes (most Jotuns did not bother with clothes, just like feral animals) or legends of Jotuns scheming and luring Aesir to their deaths. Not one book portrayed a Frost Giant as kind or noble, or even capable of love. They all seemed to thrive off of death and destruction. How much had Odin and Frigga managed to tame him? He had no desire to suddenly slaughter Aesir, but perhaps that would come later. Then Odin All-Father would have to put him down like the animal he was.
He remembered the rage he felt when Odin announced Thor would be king. Hatred bubbled inside as the Asgardians cheered while Loki had to smile and clap and bow to the soon-to-be king. A small part of him wanted to reach out and squeeze the life out of Thor, for taking what he’d assumed was his. Then he recalled his desire to drive a knife through the Warriors Three when they’d mocked him for losing another spar. The monster was already there, deep inside him, ready to be unleashed.
Later, he stared into the mirror, trying to look past his pale skin and green eyes to see what was underneath. The glamour put on him- likely by Odin, if he had to guess- was powerful. The magic sunk into his skin and his bones, forcing his body into the Aesir shape. How powerful was it? Could the All-Father enchant Aesir blood to run through a Jotun’s veins?
He closed his eyes. His magic trickled out from inside him, getting through the holes of Odin’s magic.
Show me what is underneath.
Odin’s magic resisted. Nobody could see the monster, otherwise it could get hurt. But Loki pushed back.
My body, his magic said, my choice. Show me.
He paused.
I’m all alone.
Jotun blue consumed his Aesir skin. His green eyes turned blood red, and strange markings appeared on his skin. Loki stared down at his hands. They still looked the same, except being blue. He ran his fingers through his hair. Still the same. No wonder he wasn’t blonde like the rest of his-
Well, like the members of the royal family.
He flashed his teeth. They seemed a little sharper (monsters always have sharp teeth).
His stomach twisted as he continued looking. His skin was disgusting. His eyes were horrifying. He raised his hands and saw himself wrapping them around an Aesir’s throat. No wonder the All-Father had put him in a glamour. How could any Aesir look upon something as filthy as him?
Pity overtook him at the thought of the All-Father, tired and soaked in blood, debasing himself by picking up an infant Frost Giant. The idea that this skin had touched the All-Father, All-Mother, and Prince of Asgard made him want to vomit. Centuries’ worth of food and clothes had been given to this beast instead of a true Aesir. And what did Odin have to show for it? Only a failure of a son that he did not make king.
Unfortunately, he did not have time to rush to the dungeons and throw himself in a cell before hearing a knock on his chamber door.
“Prince Loki,” his guard said, thankfully separated by his bathroom door. “ it is time for dinner.”
And so the glamour was restored.
Loki did not know what to say when Thor asked him to go on a hunting trip, just a few weeks before the coronation. At first, he wanted to shrink back and refuse. He was a Frost Giant, and could not be trusted near Asgard’s golden Prince. No, Loki should be the one hunted. It should be his remains Thor brings back to Asgard with pride, and the tale of his slaughter the topic at the coronation feast. But that thought gave him an idea.
“Loki,” Thor slaps his back, “you have been so slow today! You must be quick if we are to hunt any monsters.”
They are in Asgard’s woods, far away from the gleaming lights of the city. Thor is
the only one near him. Loki looks at the blades attached to his brother’s (not his brother’s) belt. He remembers his blue flesh, and thinks it would be beautiful if those blades cut through it. Thor has also brought Mjolnir, a weapon reserved for only the most fearsome beasts. Would Thor slam it against his skull? Or would the hammer hollow out his chest? Loki smiles at the thought. Both options are fitting deaths for the monster that has infiltrated the House of Odin.
Thor stops. “We will eat now, brother. I can see you are weak and require nourishment.”
The Loki of a week ago would have protested and insisted that he was strong (that he was the worthy son). Now, he nods. His heart pounds in anticipation of what's to come. Loki will make Thor even more glorious. All of Asgard will look at him with pride for slaughtering the creature that had dirtied the realm for centuries. They will tell this tale for centuries, and Thor will tell his children with pride of the first time he killed a Frost Giant.
Loki sits by the fire and embraces the heat. There must be a smile on his face, for Thor asks: “I have missed that smile, Loki. You seemed so dour this past week.”
He focuses on the ground (a Jotun should never look an Aesir in the eye) and says, “I finally understand my place, Thor.” The words lift a weight off his shoulders. “For years, I have struggled with myself. With who I am and what I was meant to do. Now I know.”
Thor sits next to him and grips his shoulders. Loki resists the urge to push him away so as to not contaminate Thor further. “You’ll be my closest advisor, brother. There is no one I trust more than you to help me rule.”
Loki bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. A Frost Giant the power behind Asgard’s throne? Absurd and horrifying at the same time. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Loki,” Thor frowns, “you- you are not angry at Father for choosing me over you, yes?”
He nods. “I could never rule Asgard, Thor.” He imagines the Asgardians bowing down to a red-eyed demon and shudders. “I-” he pauses, “I did not understand my purpose before, so I was angry. But now I know the truth.” He smiles even wider. Years of anguish now are dull in his mind. His years of wishing to be better than Thor, to be a worthy son, are now pointless. They always were pointless. Loki was born a monster, is a monster, and will always be a monster.
Thor raises an eyebrow. “I don't quite know what you mean, Loki.” He is still smiling at Loki, but Loki can see how his shoulders tense.
He laughs. He hunches over and keeps laughing, even as tears roll down his cheeks.
“I wasted so many years of my existence,” he says, “trying to be good enough. Wondering why despite all my studies and my training I was stuck in your shadow.”
Thor puts a hand on his shoulder. Loki shoves it away. He’s still laughing. He is a trickster, but nothing he’s ever done will compare to the actions of the All-Father and All-Mother.
“Loki-”
He stands up, choking from the laughter. “And to think, there was nothing I could have done! I didn’t fail, Thor. I could never have succeeded!” Blood spills out as he coughs, and he smears it across his face. This is how the Jotuns of the storybooks must look after they’ve eaten their latest victim.
Thor pulls him up and yanks him forward, trapping his arm in a vice like grip. Soon, that strength will be put to good use. “You are unwell, brother. I am taking you home.”
Loki pulls back and escapes from his brother’s grip. “Oh, Thor,” he whispers, and lets his magic unweave Odin’s glamour, “you never had a brother.”
His heart soars as he slams into the ground. Thor grasps his throat and squeezes it, and Loki gasps for air. Spots dance in his eyes and his brother’s body crackles with electricity.
“Where is Loki, imposter?”
There is so much anger in Thor’s eyes. For now, it is against a so-called imposter. Then, it will be against the All-Father for humiliating him, for letting a disease fester for centuries without his knowledge. Loki can see Thor screaming at the All-Father for letting a Jotun eat at his table instead of putting it down like he was supposed to.
He laughs as Thor’s grip on his throat eases. “Like I said, he never existed.”
Thor punches him. Then he does it again. And again. And again. Blood as red as his eyes decorate his face. Loki wants Thor to use the blades next. He wants his Jotun body torn and ripped to shreds so tiny they could be bits of dust.
Thor reaches for Mjolnir and places it against Loki’s throat. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”
“He is dead,” he says. “Oh, what a glorious death it was. Death by a thousand cuts, they say.”
The God of Thunder raises his hammer, but before he swings it, he stops. “Loki?” he whispers. “You- your eyes. You’re Loki.”
The euphoria he’d felt evaporates, leaving him bloody and broken on the ground. Thor’s eyes no longer burn with anger. “What are you doing, you idiot? Finish the job.”
Thor pulls Mjolnir away. “Loki, what is going on-?”
He lunges forward and puts his burning hands on Thor’s skin. His brother’s arms are blackened by a Jotun’s touch, and he smiles. Thor now has a monster to hunt. They crash against the ground again, and Loki reaches for Thor’s blades and starts cutting his own flesh with them.
“Do I have to do all the work for you, Thor?” he says. “You have a monster to kill. So kill it!”
“LOKI!” Thor rips the blade from his hands. He reaches for Loki’s arms, but Loki dodges. “Stop this at once!”
The laughter comes again as he stands and runs. He hears Thor chasing after him- a warrior hunting down his prey- and shouting indistinct words. Loki responds by flinging his magic back at his brother, creating ice on the forest floor.
“Oh, Thor,” he shouts. “There’s a monster approaching the city walls. I wonder what the guards will do when they see me? Do you want to kill me, or should I give the honor to them instead?”
Thor reaches him, and when Loki turns to run, he finds himself blocked by bushes and trees. Lightning races across the sky. Rage twists his brother’s face, and Loki realizes he still has blood streaming down his face and arms.
“Loki,” Thor growls, “we are going home, and you are going to explain yourself to our parents.”
“Home?” He shakes his head. “Oh, Prince of Asgard, I don’t have a home. My real parents left me to die on a frozen rock. I was only saved by the delusional mercy of the All-Father.” He points to the hammer at Thor’s belt. “Now you can finish the job.”
“No-” Thor shakes his head, “no, that cannot be true. Father wouldn’t-”
“Lie?” Loki rolls his eyes. Thor is Aesir, pure and innocent, unlike Loki’s brutish nature. But Thor is still an idiot. “Open your eyes, Thor. Do you have memories of your mother being pregnant? Do you not know why your so-called brother has raven hair while your locks are blonde? Or why everyone favors you over him, even your parents?” He steps forward. “It is because I am a monster, Thor. Everyone knows it. Even you.”
“No, Loki.” Thor stumbles backward, his face contorted in a grimace. “That is not true. That is only your own delusions twisting your mind, driving you to madness.”
“Is it madness?” he laughs. “IS IT, THOR?”
He lunges again, reaching for Thor’s throat. His brother screams as his Jotun hands burn Thor’s skin. His blue skin is bright against Thor’s blackened flesh. “DIDN’T YOU SAY YOU’D KILL THEM ALL?” His nails scratch Thor’s neck. “WELL YOU CAN START NOW, BROTHER.”
Thor throws Loki off him and pins him on the ground. Loki then tries to claw his eyes (those hideous Jotun eyes) out, but Thor pins his arms down too.
“Do it,” he whispers. “Slay the beast.”
“Never.” Tears roll down Thor’s cheeks. “I am a fool, Loki, for having eve
thought the Jotuns to be monsters. They could not be, for they produced someone as wonderful as you.”
He closes his eyes. Thor should have slaughtered him by now. Loki should be dead, soul drifting off to Hel. Thor should be returning to the palace, ready to expose Loki’s true nature.
“You’d be a hero,” he murmurs, and Thor shifts and begins rocking him. “You’d kill the worthless, hated second son.” Thor holds him even tighter. “You’d kill the monster.”
“Loki,” Thor says. Loki can feel the tears from his brother. “Why do you think I wish you dead? I could never kill you, Brother, whether you be an Asgardian or a Frost Giant. I would rather die than lose you.”
Sobs rush out of his body. This cannot be happening. Thor is supposed to kill him and put him out of his misery, not hold him and whisper soft words of love. Loki is supposed to be the evil, scheming monster that must be eliminated, not the little brother that is held and protected.
“I don’t deserve this,” he says. Even before he knew his nature, he knew he did not deserve this. Loki is the second son: the jealous, woman-like magic user who longs for a little of his brother’s light. He does not deserve to be loved by anyone, much less the golden Prince of Asgard.
Thor holds the back of his neck and brings Loki close. He is tucked against Thor’s shoulder, guarded by him against the universe. As he cries in his brother’s arms, he realizes Thor’s skin does not darken at his touch.
Somewhere, he can hear Odin All-Father’s yells and the stomping of Sleipnir’s hooves. But now, all he feels is the warmth of Thor’s arms and the protection they provide.
“Please,” he begs, “just let me go.”
Thor squeezes him tight. “Never, my brother.” He kisses Loki’s forehead. “I will never let you go, and wherever you jump, I will follow.”