[northern territories, 16th century.]

[changeinasnap]

This far north, hang around long enough and your chances of survival dwindle their way down to zero pretty fast. Nomads wander through every so often, but they're gone quick enough, hastened along by awful dreams and shadows in the dark.

It suits his mood. He dresses up the shadows with sharper teeth than he'd normally allow and lets them do their work, for little reason other than spite and staking his territory. Eventually, travelers learn to avoid his circle of land, and the frozen earth grows silent except for his own breath.

It's perfect, as far as he's concerned.

Comments

[old_gods]

Weeks go by, and the short days slowly grow longer.

Spring has strengthened its tenuous grip on the chilly land, the day a traveler appears on the outskirts of Loki's new territory and doesn't turn aside.

[changeinasnap]

A guttural growl rises like mist from the warming snow. Scant yards ahead, a massive beast paces closer, teeth bared and dripping reddish foam; it's joined by three others, fanning out before the traveler.

Usually, that sight's enough to get even the most battle-ready guy to turn back nowadays.

When the new arrival stays put, the largest animal at the front of the pack lunges.

[old_gods]

The traveler, swathed in white fur over dark wool, keeps walking as though the beasts aren't there.

And a moment after it lunges, the lead beast ... isn't. There's a flare like sunlight reflecting off of snow, and it vanishes.

[changeinasnap]

The other three shy back from the light, but keep snarling, teeth snapping a foot away from the traveler's clothing like hurled insults and bravado. They keep pace to accompany him deeper into the territory, an escort ready to turn deadly at any further provocation.

Much further away, another cluster of shadows rise -- but these have a more human form, and flicker with firelight that twists them into frightening and unnatural shapes. The sudden moaning wind sounds like sobs of pain.

[old_gods]

The traveler keeps walking, his pace slow and relentless; the human forms don't give him any more pause than the beasts.

He reaches the top of a shallow rise and stops there briefly, surveying the terrain.

[changeinasnap]

"You are not welcome," voices hiss, but by this point the illusions are weak, half-hearted scares.

Mostly because in the dip of earth below, another fire burns -- and a familiar figure stands next to it, his tired but unblinking glare fixed on the figure above.

[old_gods]

"I didn't expect to be," says the traveler, putting back his fur-trimmed hood to look down impassively at the figure below.

"Loki."

[changeinasnap]

"Baldur."

Annoyance and anger ride predominant; alongside it, though, is the same exhaustion that lines his face, and weighs his fingers when he raises a hand.

The snap of his fingers echoes over the slowly wakening landscape. The beasts flanking Baldur puff away like falling snow.

"To what do I owe the very dubious pleasure?"

[old_gods]

"You left before I could speak to you."

Baldur's voice is very even, giving no sign of any emotion; his face, once so open and guileless, matches it.

"I understand I have you to thank for bringing me back."

[changeinasnap]

"You could've sent me a letter if it mattered that much."

Snide, as he turns back to the fire. Where a hunk of meat would usually be, a small collection of fruit roasts on a thin spit, little more than a twig.

[old_gods]

"You've done an excellent job frightening off anybody who might have brought it to you."

He starts down into the hollow, slowly.

[changeinasnap]

He tosses another glare over his shoulder when he hears Baldur's footsteps crunch the dwindling snow, but doesn't make any further move to chase him off his land.

A few tentative flowers start to curl up from the ground, hopeful at the god's approach. Though his jaw clenches, he doesn't have the heart to set them on fire.

"What do you want?"

[old_gods]

"I want to thank you for my life."

He stops, a few paces from the fire.

With no change in tone: "And to tell you that if you come near my family again, I will kill you."

[changeinasnap]

...Seriously?

Seriously?

He barks out a harsh laugh, turning to face Baldur in full. "Uh, was the voluntary exile not enough of a tip-off for you, kid? You think I want anything to do with you guys anymore?"

[old_gods]

"I no longer believe I understand what you want."

His face is still beautiful, still bright ... but it's the brightness of a blade now, hard and sharp.

"Or why you do anything."

[changeinasnap]

He can't decide yet if the change is unsettling or merely unexpected. After a quick glance flicked up to Baldur's newly darkened hair, he shrugs, drawing an unconcerned air around him like a second cloak.

"Not like you ever understood a whole lot about me to start," he says.

[old_gods]

"Understand this, mischief-maker. I mean what I say."

He meets Loki's glance squarely.

"For what you did to me, I would forgive you. But what you've done to my mother, and to my father ... these are things I can't forgive."

[changeinasnap]

And here they go talking about fathers again. Didn't he hike all the way out here to avoid this sort of crap?

"Feel better now?" he asks, halfway to simpering, and turns his back on Baldur once more to check his food. Heedless of the fire, he picks up the spit with his bare hands and slides a roasted apple from one end.

[old_gods]

"I've said what I came to say."

He ignores the tone.

[changeinasnap]

A long sigh. "All right. So here's what I've gotta say."

He bites into the softened apple as he turns around to Baldur, and takes his sweet time chewing it.

"Don't forget this, Baldur. I'll see you coming. Any of you. So if you wanna start up some brand-new little revenge plot and pull a couple tricks of your own over me?"

He leans in.

"Just remember who brought you back into this world, and who can take you out of it again."

[old_gods]

"I remember." Steadily said. "You worked my death once before. A clever trick. But there's this about it: you can only do it once."

[changeinasnap]

"You sure about that?"

Another bite of his food.

[old_gods]

Cold, for the first time: "I don't intend to stand and let people hurl things at me again."

[changeinasnap]

"...Huh."

He studies Baldur with newfound appreciation -- though how much of that is affected as well, it's hard to discern.

(Less so if you look around his eyes, though. He may be able to hide when it suits him, but his weariness is proving a whole lot more difficult to conceal than he hoped.)

"Looks like somebody's got a chance of making it to Valhalla after all."

[old_gods]

"Perhaps. But not anytime soon."

He eyes the fire.

"Is this the best you can do now?"

[changeinasnap]

"Nah. Best I feel like doing, sure."

He polishes off the rest of the apple and tosses the core aside. Before it can hit the ground, it fizzles out of existence.

"Best I want to do if it means I don't get a crowd of party crashers coming my way."

Hint. Hint.

[old_gods]

Baldur's never been good with hints.

"None of the other Aesir will seek you out. They think we're well rid of you."

[changeinasnap]

He snorts. "Yeah. I thought I was rid of them too -- way before now -- until your daddy dearest ran into me a couple months back."

The fact that Odin hadn't been actively looking for him at the time? Pfft. Details.

"I'm not taking any chances."

[old_gods]

He shakes his head.

"Very well. I'll leave you to it, then."

[changeinasnap]

"And good riddance to you too, nephew mine." Cheerful, as he tosses the spit back onto the fire; it catches on nothing and settles perfectly horizontal over the flames.

[old_gods]

A long beat.

"You're no kin of mine," says Baldur softly, and turns to go.

[changeinasnap]

Of course I'm not.

Homesickness isn't what drove him to the mountains, all those months past. He knows what true homesickness feels like.

Folding his arms, he keeps his gaze resolutely anywhere but the on the stone-gray sky overhead. Baldur's the closest, and so within a matter of moments, his attention lands on him.





"How's Hel?"

[old_gods]

Baldur pauses, and looks back.



"Sad." Quiet, and straightforward.

[changeinasnap]

One corner of his mouth twists, humorless. He nods and looks away.

"Too bad some of us can't pick open the lock for our kids with a couple tears, huh?" No louder than Baldur.

[old_gods]

Maybe it's the weariness in his voice; maybe it's something else.

"I did what I could for her." Baldur says, still quiet. "I'm afraid it wasn't much."

[changeinasnap]

"Yeah, well." A loose shrug; his arms stay folded tight as, with effort, he raises his eyes back to Baldur. "Better than nothing."

Better than Odin, but Baldur always was the kindhearted one -- to the point of idiocy, sometimes.

[old_gods]

"I won't tell my father where you are." Baldur tugs his hood back up. "Or any of the others."

(Speaking of kindhearted.)

[changeinasnap]

Another nod -- could be acknowledgment, could be thanks, he's the only one who knows and he's not telling -- before the other side of his mouth quirks up, too, wry and crooked.

"But the kill me on sight threat still stands?"

[old_gods]

"Oh yes." Quite calm. "If you trouble them again."

[changeinasnap]

The grin sharpens back into its perpetual amused smirk. "Just making sure we're on the same page."

He unfolds his arms, making a shooing gesture.

"Okay. Scram. Do something good with your second time around, I don't know."

[old_gods]

"Mock all you wish, Loki," he says resignedly. "But I will."

He turns, leaving pale new grass spreading where his boots rested, and makes his way back up the rise.

[changeinasnap]

Who said I was mocking that time? he almost asks -- but by then, Baldur's halfway up the hill, and it's probably better for them both if he keeps his mouth shut anyway. He looks down at the grass; crouches, after a moment, to rest his fingertips on the thin patch of green. The blades don't crinkle with frost when he touches them.

He probably ought to move back down south pretty soon.

Not now, though. Give it a little longer.

Not yet.