1963-09-04 - Loki arrives home
Summary: Loki goes home to Asgard to speak with Odin, but meets with his mother first.
Related: Muspelheim plot stuff.
Theme Song: None
louis thor 

The ever-seeing eyes of Heimdall sweep over the fabric of reality, noting all that passes, realizing the various threads and tendrils of fate as they weave what broken tapestry comes from the choice of such fallible beings as god and man. Very little escapes his gaze, very little can even obscure it, though out amongst the stars there are small hints of haze, touches of shadow that could be naught and yet could be everything to the world of Asgard.

One of those shadows fall, dropping from reality as if it had never existed even as in the great golden chamber of the Bifrost suffers a blur of bright light that illuminates the room for a fraction of a second. When the flare fade, the shadow is there. A silhouette of dark that stands there at the formal gateway to the great city. The shadow's darkness fades, and suddenly there standing in his formal Asgardian armor is a being who has not set foot upon the rainbow bridge in over a century.

Loki, Odinson, Prince of Asgard is garbed in the onyx and emerald of his choice. Knee high boots shine with a gleam, the black long coat with the green lining hugs the contours of his form, and at the end of his hands are svelte riding gloves as if he had just stepped forth from a tourney between warriors.

His smile is given, open as he looks towards the sentinel. "Heimdall. Good to see you again." He look towards the brilliant shining double doors that lead out of the chamber. "May I pass?"


The stars ever shine in the night's sky for the watchman. The histories of worlds are viewed with a dispassionate eye but for one or two Realms. And on one of those Realms, shadows obscure some things, but not others. Just enough to be .. annoying without being concerning.

And there, there is the reason, no doubt, for the slight obfuscations across the years. Heimdall wears his black armor; a sentry as well as a seer. When the young Prince appears and reveals himself, the Guardian of the Bifrost straightens himself and emerges from his post in form and due courtesy. He stops his steps before the Prince and inclines his head in proper obeissance.

"Prince Loki.."

Lifting his gaze once more, Heimdall offers the younger man a hint of a smile, "You may. If I may give Your Highness warning? Your mother waits upon your return." 'And has', remains unspoken.

Heimdall turns in order to allow the Prince passage, knowing full well on the other side of that bridge, a guard awaits the prince, as is custom. Loki's guard.


A nod is given, eyes lowered in acknowledgement of Heimdall's place and service. Loki steps past, moving with an easy step that carries him past the watcher. The great doors sweep open slowly for him as he reaches the exterior…

And such an exterior. The great golden city gleams defiant against all of reality, standing tall and opulent in its golden splendour. The sapphire waters roil and wash over the side of the 'world', falling into the void so far below them, ever renewed by the magic of the mystical realm. It's still on that gleaming rainbow bridge that he advances… and when presented with his guards he greets them with that same smile.

"Aelfrith. Ragnar." A glance given to each in turn. He lifts his chin, "You seem well." He rests his hands at his sides. No sword is on his hip, no staff is in his hand. Indeed, the only weapon that he has upon him is a small black hilted dagger in a silvered sheath at his left hip.

Looking between them he says, "I would see the All-Father." And should they agree he will follow them as they lead him further into the realm.


Midgard has no chance to come near the beauty or age of the great city of Asgard. Within its walls live and breathe names long since passed into the magic of tales told.

As Loki approaches the great gates, and his retinue greet him with their own bows of courtesy, one rises soon after with a genuinely happy smile. Ragnar. "Well enough, my Prince. You have been missed within the halls. A noticable absence." The gossip is great with this one, but he's holding back. "Things are simply not the same…"

"Ragnar," sounds as a warning from Aelfrith, who finds his way to actually address Loki's request. "My Prince. I.. he has been told of your arrival. We now wait word as to where and when…"

Ragnar isn't going to be outdone, however, and he shifts to turn, ready to escort regardless, "Your mother awaits you in the study."


"Then please, good friends. Lead on." Loki's smile is a brilliant thing, and to be fair… there is a certain warmth that comes from seeing this place he had called home for so much longer than Midgard fair. He falls into step with them, and walks down the ancient bridge whose existence predates even Odin's great grandfather.

Casual conversation is offered as they pass, though when amongst others such is stifled. It is little of remark in truth, just what is required to gain some hint of what has passed in his absence, to learn what tales are offered, to give friendly comments to these two guards who had served him in the past. Questions about his time away are deflected gently, politely. The only reason advanced is perhaps a murmur of wishing to see what there is of the 9 realms, to explore, and to learn of what worlds beyond.

When they move amongst other Asgardians he will at time offer a smile here, a wave there. A brilliant memory of names, he'll pass others and when addressed he'll reply in turn, always seeming to remember something about that person or inquire about their spouse… or interests… or accomplishments.

It's only once they're past the other guards at the gateway into the great central keep of Asgard that Loki speaks to Aelfrith and Ragnar as to his mother. "Tell me, swords of Asgard, how has Frigga fared in my absence? I have had little word." Though, to be fair, he did not make himself available for such word. Though he asks this even as the ascend the steps leading to the study.


Like old times, certainly, though different. Both of the men pass glances; their Prince seems 'different'. It is more than welcome, of course, and the conversation, at times in low tones, is easy. Natural. As if Loki had never been away, as far as they are concerned. The secret that rests with the younger Prince remains so.

Passers by show that Asgard is still a vibrant Realm; those who have reason to be at the palace going their way, speaking with hushed words as is required by decorum. All here is pomp and circumstance; traditions of the crown long instilled in the heads and hearts of those who live within. All know their place and all are glad for it. So, as Loki does pass those around, bows, head-inclinations, all the necessary regards given. Perhaps more than had been before, if truth be told. After all, the Realm is without their Crown Prince, and the populace does look to the royal family.

Passing the others now, the trio move deeper into the Palace proper. Now, they are freer to speak, and Ragnar doesn't disappoint. "My Prince, your mother has been looking for you. Since Prince Thor left…"

"We think that your appearance will cheer her greatly. At least…"

"At least I will have one son back?" comes from a door that opened a little quieter, perhaps, than either of the Swords may have realized. Or, well.. it could very well have been magic. Such a thing has been known to happen within these walls, much to the dismay and chagrin of others not as attuned. Her tones sound regal, even.. though blue eyes dance as she beholds one of her returning children. "That will be all. Thank you." Frigga is resplendent in robes, her golden hair done such that murals and frescoes could never do her justice.

Once she effectively dismisses the pair, she holds her hand out, her smile warm, and all hint of formality is gone within the blink of an eye, "Loki." If she could wrap him in that single word, she would. "Welcome home."


"Mother," The smile on his features warms, no longer that cursory shield summoned so easily as defense against the world. Instead it's one that reaches those brilliant eyes, shining with a warmth that few have seen.

Two strides is enough for him to close the distance and to take her hand in both of his, touching his lips to her wrist and kneeling before her for the required moment, then rising while still holding her hand til she draws back. He rests his own hands at his side and smiles from the corner of his mouth, a touch embarrassed, perhaps a touch ashamed at such an absence. Yet he had his reasons, and perhaps she is even aware of them on some level.

"I am pleased to see you." An understatement, but he is often subdued so. "I came on a matter of some import to speak to father of Thor, Midgard…" He leaves the last unspoken.


Happy moment that will replay itself in her mind over and over for centuries to come. Her smile lingers as he greets her first properly, and then.. as a son should. She pauses before she inclines her head, gesturing with a brief wave towards the study, and once the pair are within, the door is closed by that same unseen force that perhap opened it initially. Frigga doesn't want to be far from her son, in case it's some trick, even though she would know such a thing immediately. This is no incorporeal visit meant to cheer her, no. Living and breathing son.. and he's home. Her manner, her posture and her tones all underscore the pleasure to see whom others would call 'her favorite son'. (Certainly Odin would.)

"Oh Loki.. you have been away. Tell me first that you are staying. Your father could use your presence if not your counsel, even if we both know he wouldn't ask for either. Muspelheim is being difficult again, and.."

Frigga pauses before she catches the intent and potential import of Loki's words. "What of Thor?" Of course she's concerned, and if this son says that there is a matter of urgency? Then…

She nods quickly, her expression setting into one of command before her voice rises, "Hrodgeirr. Escort Prince Loki to see the All-Father." Frigga doesn't look away, but there's understanding. There will be more time later to discuss things. After. A more personal demand is made quickly after, and there's no missing the warmth and affection that creeps back into the Queen's tones. "And tell the kitchen to prepare a feast for my son's return."


"Ah, mother." And a tone of sadness touches his words. "I intend only to stay a short time. To speak with the All-Father. Indeed, Muspelheim is at concern." Loki seems inclined to close the distance, to embrace her. Yet he is ever not what one would call demonstrative. Yet she can most likely tell that the desire is there.

"Thor was well when I left him. We have met and stood together on Midgard against what has passed." He speaks in broad terms, perhaps not wishing to upset her nor worry her, but offering her truth as well as insight. "If I am able," He leaves those words there to float for a moment. "We'll speak more once the audience is ended."

At that he bows again, arms opening as he steps back. It's only once the guards have signalled for him to follow them that he turns away from her.

And then in contemplative silence he is led to the next audience.


While Loki may not be demonstrative, Frigga is. It is a mother's right to hug her son, to hold him against all harm, and that is the right she demonstrates now. She takes that step to meet Loki's own and wraps her arms around her son; she hasn't been able to do that at whim for what seemed centuries, even if it has been 'only' one… one and a half. "Loki, do not stay away if you do leave again," is whispered, and she kisses his cheek.

Soon enough, Frigga lets her son go, and she takes a half-step back. "Your father and I are proud of you. Don't hear sharp word but instead listen to the reason beneath them." She takes a steadying breath, and she nods; the Prince is grown, and as such, she also gives him the courtesy of action. He is second in line for the throne, after all. The news of her other son brings more relief to her manner; her two well loved sons are safe. "I wish he would think of more than himself.." is murmured, but she pauses the though there.

"After you speak with your father, we will talk more of this."

Once the guards arrive to take her son, it's honestly more than Frigga would want. What she wants is to escort him herself, but there are simply ways of doing things. As much as she'd like to, she simply can't. Her gaze never slips from his, and when he turns to depart, she watches his back as he leaves her, her watchful eyes not straying until long after the door is shut and he is gone from her view. With a deep, shuddered breath, finally she turns and the pacing begins.

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