The Family Lokison (Part 4)

Presenting House Loki (LOKI)

I doubted the power of my informal title. Odin would surely laugh. Thor would...well, he'd gape in disbelief and say nothing at all. He still hadn't risen to his rank—what kept him off the throne? His son? That small child, Modi? Whatever the reason, there were few excuses that explained why he'd made no efforts to reach out diplomatically to Vanaheim since I'd last seen him. Freyr would've mentioned it.

Such questions raced through my mind again and again as if hours passed while Sigyn pulled out the armor crafted for me by Freyr and Björn back home. Home. The word meant little. Sigyn had become my home, and so had my sons. Our daughter would join us, and we'd feel complete. Wherever we were, we'd be safe.

Right?

"Can you wear it with your old underarmor?" she asked, spreading out the new cape embroidered by Grid and gifted to me at the most recent Yule. The intricate figure of Yggdrasil at its center meant I watched over more than just Vanaheim. It was a darker, richer green than my old staple, but it suited my now-seasoned style.

"That can work," I said, sliding out of my brown tunic. "Give me a few minutes, please."

"Alright." She met my eyes and puffed her cheeks—a frequent expression that usually meant she was worried for me—then closed the door to finish making sure the boys were dressed.

I bared myself completely. Took the twine from my hair and shook out the braid. Sigyn said she admired the stripes of silver above my ears, though I wished to ignore them. Age equaled weakness in my eyes. I stretched the black sheath in all directions to test the seams before sliding it onto my legs and over my head; both pieces were tight from lack of use, but my frame had changed little. It brought me a twinge of joy to see the stitching over what once was my Chitauri wound; while my skin had long swallowed it, this was proof it occurred. I was proud of the mark. Here I am. I survived.

The armor from Vanaheim mimicked the style Sigyn cast over me after I'd become a senator. She'd commissioned it for me, hopeful I'd never need to use it, but here we were. Vines in brassy gold swirled up my ribcage and hidden snake heads speckled the negative space in flat etchings. Sigyn's name filled the half-moon arch above my heart, where she belonged. My vambraces carried my son's names prominently, with Vali on the right and Narvi on the left. Every time I looked down, I saw them and remembered why I fought anyone at any time—not for me, but for them. Whenever Hela arrived, I would have to decide where her name would inevitably go.

I buckled my boots and clasped the cape to my shoulders just as Sigyn knocked on the door again. "Lo? Are you ready?"

"Almost, Gin," I said while staring at myself in the mirror. The man before me was a face I knew well, but it did not belong in this place. Something...grand was missing.

Fortunately, Odin and Thor granted it to me, though I couldn't guess why. My helmet was a tighter fit than I recalled, but it kept my hair in place and out of my eyes. Even with it being a slightly brighter gold, it still matched me.

I am Loki of...Yggdrasil. And I shall defend her, as I swore, until my last and dying breath.

**

I didn't remember leaving the chamber since I was too anxious to focus on anything but not falling over. I was out of practice with walking in a cape. Unable to see my periphery well with the helmet on. Couldn't guess if we were facing some kind of trial. Sigyn put the children between us as we walked and made me chuckle when she pointed out how Vali mimicked my regality; it was a gift to help me try to relax, as she'd say.

For once, I was grateful for every tiny distraction.

We arrived at the top of the stairs sooner than I expected. Odin's stare, even from far away, cut straight through me. It burned me. It never left me, just as Heimdall's hadn't. He drummed his fingers on the sceptre at his side, threatening to use Gungnir against me for the slightest indiscretion. Thor, dressed in full armor and a short cape, wavered on his feet from side to side, like an invisible thread held him in place. Restrained. They didn't chat idly and chose to make us as uncomfortable as possible.