Chapter Text
Helblindi strode brazenly across the craggy, snow-covered terrain toward the cave where the Way—and his father—lay waiting.
He had won . The halfling firstborn was dead, and the Casket of Ancient Winters was thrumming in his grasp. All that remained was to kill Laufey and fully secure his position as Jotunheim’s rightful king.
An army of Jotuns marched behind Helbindi and his Svell Val-Tivar —a handful of his most trusted warriors who had fought at his side through many a battle, and the first to swear fealty to him as sovereign. Helblindi was flanked by his two most trusted svellbrodira : Hraudnir on his left, leading a gagged and bound Byleistr, and Fleggr on his right. Fleggr carried Loki’s pale, limp body as if it were no more than a child’s toy.
One son captive, and another dead. Who is left for you to favor now, Father?
Entering the cave, Helblindi was not entirely surprised to find Laufey and his supporters armed and poised to fight.
“My son, the choice is yours. This may end in peace or it may end in bloodshed.” Laufey’s cool, calm words squeezed at Helblindi’s heart like a vice. But he was not weak—not like his brothers were.
“Bloodshed is all I know. You made sure of that, Father , despite your weakness.” Helblindi nodded to Fleggr, who stepped forward and unceremoniously dumped the God of Mischief’s corpse at Laufey’s feet.
“The changeling is dead. I am the rightful heir now, and you are nothing but a failure to your people.” Helblindi continued. “Surrender. Stand aside and I just may let your last son live.”
Laufey didn’t so much as wince at Helblindi’s words, but he lowered his weapon slightly. “Helblindi, you have always been blind to the truth. The throne is yours. Jotunheim is yours to rule. Killing Loki proves nothing, nor does threatening the life of your jötling brother. Leave Byleistr here and go rule the kingdom you so crave.”
“What kingdom?” Helblindi spat. “You have left a wasteland for me to rule! This is not enough. I refuse to waste away on a melting throne as you did for centuries. I will make the Nine Realms my footstool, starting with Asgard. Stand aside, Hrafnasueltir . Let us pass freely through the Way, and I may consider allowing your last remaining child to live.”
Laufey’s gaze did not fall to Byleistr at this threat, but to Loki. Helblindi followed Laufey’s intense gaze, but nothing seemed to be amiss. The corpse remained as lifeless as ever.
Sentiment, no doubt.
“Last chance, Hrafnasueltir . Stand aside.”
Disappointing Helblindi’s bloodlust once more, Laufey lowered his weapon and gestured for his clan to move along the walls, presenting Helblindi with a clear path to the Way.
“Hraudnir, with me. We will scout the path to ensure safe passage before Fleggr leads the army through. I will take charge of my dear little brother. He will join us as insurance of the disgraced king’s compliance.”
Laufey’s glare remained expressionless, though Helblindi thought he saw a knowing glint in his eye. Whatever Laufey was planning, it would not work. Helblindi was leaving behind hundreds of warriors to Laufey’s dozens—there would be no change of power while he was gone.
Hraudnir led the way toward the seidr that even one as disinterested in magic as Helblindi could feel pulsating through the walls of the cave. Shoving Byleistr before him, Helbindi walked with his posture shifted backward, the Casket pointed toward the onlooking crowd in warning.
Suddenly, the cave full of Jotnar vanished and Helblindi found himself on the disorienting planes of Yggdrasil’s branches. This path looked much the same as the one to Midgard, and Helblindi knew he would be unable to navigate it properly without Hraudnir’s aid. Even then, it was their first time traversing Yggdrasil without a proper guide. They would need to tread carefully.
Unfortunately, Byleistr was not making it easy for them to do so. The moment they stepped through the Way, the previously stoic Jotun began squirming in his bindings, murmuring frantically behind his gag and refusing to step forward.
“Norns, Byl, will you stop wriggling like a child and behave? You shall knock us both into the Void at this rate.”
Hraudnir had looked back at the pair in concern as Helblindi struggled to juggle both his captive and the Casket. Eventually, Helbindi set the Casket down at his feet so he could grip Byleistr’s tunic in one hand and use the other to remove the gag.
“I swear, if you don’t stop dancing around and explain yourself I will throw you off this branch, brother!”
Byleistr coughed, a slight trickle of blood pouring from his mouth as he gasped for air. Then he started to laugh. A cold, familiar laugh that did not belong on Byleistr’s lips.
“Now that would be a shame, for who would remain to tell of what happened here?”
Swifter than Helblindi could react, the captive tore free of his restraints and slid to the ground, scooping up the Casket as he rolled past Hraudnir and planted himself between them and their path to Asgard.
“But how?” Helblindi exclaimed in a rage, “It’s not possible!”
“You’re new to being my brother, but a bit of advice: next time, you might want to make certain I am dead. I have this nasty habit of resurrection, you see.”
Even as his words confirmed what Helblindi already suspected, the already small form of Byleistr shrank slightly, skin paling as he shifted back to his true—or at least, Aesir—self. Loki was still gravely injured as blood poured from the wound in his stomach, and Helblindi laughed at the foolish defiance of the Trickster.
“You are already half-dead, Tví-skiptingr . You hardly have the strength to hold the Casket, let alone wield it. Just how do you plan on getting out of here?”
It had taken quite literally every bit of seidr Loki had left to maintain the illusions on him and his youngest brother, who by now should be safely returned to his father, and mask the truth from Helblindi’s sorry excuse for a seidmadr . Still more to silently plot with Byleistr while playing dead so Thor wouldn’t hesitate to save Darcy.
He had nothing left to give, and he knew there would be no controlling the Casket once its power was unleashed. It pained him to even consider what he was about to do to one of Yggdrasil’s branches, but it was the only way to ensure Asgard’s safety. Darcy’s safety.
And Loki would do whatever it took to protect her.
“You are already half-dead, Tví-skiptingr ,” spat Helblindi with a dark chuckle, despite glancing warily at the Casket pointed in his direction. “You hardly have the strength to hold the Casket, let alone wield it. Just how do you plan on getting out of here?”
“That’s just the thing, little brother.” Loki gasped, already sinking to one knee as his grip tightened on the upraised Casket. “I don’t.”
Loki commanded the Casket to open, and it wasted no time in doing so. The storm was stronger than anything Loki had yet felt from the ancient weapon, but rather than concentrate its power on the two Jotnar before him, he focused it all down on Yggdrasil’s branch.
Hraudnir ran back toward his king, hurling a blast of seidr toward the stunned Jotun. Heblindi tumbled backward and vanished through the Way just as the storm overtook his companion, turning the Jotun to ice in an instant.
The storm continued to spiral around Loki in its vicious attack long after Hraudnir had crumbled away to nothing but a few shards of ice. Long after Yggdrasil’s branch itself gave way. Long after Loki began to fall, the ice still stabbed at him, freezing his very soul as it left his dying body strangely warm and untouched.
As he fell, the Casket eventually slid from Loki’s grasp, betraying him at the last.
Leaving him alone to face death as he tumbled into the Void.