The Family Lokison (Part 4)

The Truth Hurts, Part 1 (LOKI)

Rebuilding my reputation was not going to be the quick process I hoped it would be, but things were progressing, slowly but surely. Theoric gave me enough respect to address me in council without disdain, which encouraged others to do the same. Pettiness had no place in a time of war. Thor patted my shoulder any time I suggested some defense strategy that was met with unanimous agreement. Odin stopped pretending I didn't exist and nodded along, too. He and I hadn't spoken privately in my entire time here, but I preferred that, and I presumed he did as well.

Yet acceptance didn't lessen the pressure of what was to come. Surtur was on his way. The realms below us smoldered with his ruin. Asgard's bright blue skies mocked somehow instead of giving me hope for the future. All the Don River water on Vanaheim couldn't help us predict what would come to pass—at least, that was Freyr's excuse for not using it to our advantage.

Against all the faith I had in our success, I craved an evening that felt like home. Sigyn agreed, and we made an effort to transform our borrowed chamber into something more like what we were used to. After supper, the whole family dressed in our brown Vanaheim attire and agreed not to answer the door to any visitors. The boys played quietly in their private room, letting Sigyn and I have the last of the daylight together. With the balcony open, I stood behind my love at the table to brush her hair to re-plait our weekly token of commitment.

"If I close my eyes, I can almost smell the bonfire of home," she whispered, lightly sighing under my touch.

"So can I. I pray that scent will stay in my memory as something pleasant."

"As opposed to...?"

"The city burning." I sectioned the plait absently, falling into routine. "Muspelheim's furnace could swallow Asgard whole for all I know."

"Oh, Loki." Sigyn deflated and covered her belly.

"I know it's frightening. But we can't very well expect to win this fight by pretending it will be simple and easy. This breath before the blow...we must savor it." I finished the plait and tied it with a strip of twine, taking a moment to kiss the smooth patch behind her right ear. "Give me a chance, and I'll savor you with proper worship before this night is over."

She tittered. "You're playing with my emotions." Tipping her head backward, she invited me in for a kiss, even if I was upside down compared to her. "I like it."

I obliged her request and pressed into her, letting my mind wander into silent fantasy, even considering taking her up to the bell tower so we could say we finally lived out a mutual dream.

The boys had a radar for our touch, however, and came out to the front room just as I pulled back. "Augh, come on," Vali griped.

Sigyn and I both chuckled, though we quickly patted ourselves down to appear nonchalant. Nothing to see, of course.

"Mum, will you read with me?" Narvi asked, hanging on the edge of the open doorway. "I found something today and need your help."

"Well, how can I say no to that?" Sigyn stretched her back as she stood. "Will you be joining us, Vali?"

"No." He came over and sat in his mother's chair to sprawl over the tabletop. "Father, I'm bored."

Sigyn rolled her eyes and patted him on the shoulder. "This one's yours, Lo."

Narvi squeaked the door hinge to egg her on faster, only retreating when she reached the threshold. They closed us out in the front room, either to leave us undisturbed or preparing for distractions from Vali.

While Sigyn and I often joked about him requiring more effort than his brother, I wasn't put off by time with Vali at all. He had long since grown out of asking endless questions and developed a keen sense of instinct. Problem-solving. Quickly becoming a fixer instead of a fusser. His intelligence was never used to build himself up over the rest; instead, he was more likely to be one step ahead so he could protect whomever stood behind him. The pride I had for him was only matched by my own arrogance, though I had less doubt he would live up to every far-off expectation.