Title: Rune Mage: Walking Beside Giants
Author: Yami no Kaiba
Fandom: Thor
Rating: PG
Pairing: Thor/Loki
Length: 2,000 words

Summary: It's a long walk, from the Bifrost to the Temple City.
Disclaimers: Marvel Comics and any of its subsidiaries/partners owns the personality-characters and the conceptual universe they exist in. (Mythology of course owns the characters themselves.) I'm borrowing them for light fun and fan purposes that have nothing to do with earning anything.

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Previous: Meeting | Declarations and Messengers

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"This is foolishness beyond the pall," Fandral muttered, shrugging on his best clothes. "We should be marching on Jotunheim with the full weight of Asgard's armies behind us to retrieve the Prince. We should not be going to treat with these beasts!"

"And that is why you are not King," Sif caustically replied, working to re-braid her hair. The flight from Jotunheim had left the mass of golden tendrils in disarray.

"Think of it this way, Fandral," Volstagg booms, wrapping a meaty hand along the blond's narrow shoulder. "We'll be the first Asgardians in a century to eat at the table of a Jotun!"

Shaking his head at his friend's antics, Hogun continued polishing the head of his favorite mace. "I hear they don't know what sandwiches are," he rumbled, sneaking a glance at Volstagg.

Volstagg's plump cheeks burned red as he thrust a fist into the air. "Those savages! Truly they are poorly educated, not to know of that greatest of Midgardian delicacies!"

Sif shook her head, willing to be distracted, but Fandral jabbed his unsheathed sword into the air. "How can you joke?! Shame of failure is on our heads, doubly so for not staying with the Prince and sharing his fate!"

Before Hogun or Volstagg could reply, Sif punched Fandral in the arm hard enough that his grip slipped and the sword fell with a clang. "Only a fool could not see that retreat was the better part of valor. The call for retreat was made – that he ignored his fellow warriors is on his head and his head alone."

Fandral bent to pick up his sword, a dark look on his face. "It is still shameful."

"Then be glad we are being given a second chance," Hogun replied, standing. "It is not everyday junior warriors are asked by Odin himself to accompany the Wise One into enemy territory."

"Well said, Friend Hogun!" Volstagg hollered, seemingly coming from no where to crush Hogun to his side with a single arm. "To valor! To victory!" he shouted joyously, using his other arm to point into the distant yonder while Hogun grunted into his side and tried to squirm away.

"To food, you mean," Fandral said lightly, shaking his head at his friend's antics.

"Aye, that too!"

"Sometimes," Sif heavily replied, taking in the sight of the Warriors Three with an air of disbelief, "I wonder why I seek company with all of thee."

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Loki shifted on the snows, standing in the windbreak his Brother Helblindi and Byleistr's bodies created. The apparel he wore was stifling with its high neckline and insulating yet coarse wolf fur tickling his cheeks with every inhalation.

The last time the Hanged God had set foot on the snows of Jotunheim, Loki had been but a babe in swaddling cloth. He remembers nothing of those times but hunger, cold, and unsettling terror. Yet being a Prince of the Realm, he was raised on the legends and tales of the Great War – and the name of Odin and his host of tiny warriors were the stuff of nightmares and grizzly tales to a normal Jotun.

But where others cursed the God's name, Loki had thrilled at every story. For here were tales of a man his size, who was not only a legend, but the leader of the Realm Eternal. One who's youth was characterized in heart racing adventure that used equal parts brawn and wit to triumph.

Who better to pattern one's life after, in a world where strength and might was everything, than the man who had it all?

Light stronger than snow glare on the Plain of Sorrow flared, driving down from the sky and throwing a veil of white into the air. It blinded everything from sight except those with keen eyes - and all those eyes could see were shadows.

When the snow was finally blown away, the two parties spent moments sizing each other up. As he'd expected, his shorter stature caused a few of the Asgardians to leave surprised and curious gazes on him.

"Well met, Odin Borson."

"And to you, Laufey Naljarson. Where is my son?"

"He is being treated for his wounds and burns by the Priests of Winter. Follow and we will take you to him to assure no deception before we speak of matters further," Mother rumbled, and turned without seeming concern for the armed Aesir at her back to begin the trek to the ruined city.

"Burns?!" one of the younger Aesir cried, a rakish looking blond dressed in green. A hand clasped strongly at one of the two blade handles buckled to his waist. "What foul trickery is this? Nothing burns in Jotunheim!"

Byleistr laughed, a great bellowing echo that must have reached the Back of Ymir, and elbowed Helblindi in the side. "'Nothing burns in Jotunheim.' Makes you wonder how the Aesir believe we warm our hearths and homes, eh, Brother?"

Helblindi chuckled, and Loki himself fought not to grin. That the outburst of mirth had unsettled the Aesir enough to draw hands away from sheathed swords was a calculated move he'd predicted would be required. Byleistr's smooth act was very believable – to anyone that didn't know him. Mother, of course, would note the tension in Byleistr's shoulders for the tell it was.

Helblindi swept his hand out, patting Byleistr on the shoulder before pointing to Laufey's shrinking back. "Enough Brother. Make fun of the little man's assumptions no longer. We should all depart before the evening winds blow. Honored Mother is getting far ahead of us – should a freak storm occur, we would surely lose sight of her and the Temple City."

With a shifting caution, the Aesir as one huddled mass lurched forward through the snow that rose in hilly drifts up to their waists. Loki waved off Helblindi's offered gesture to carry him, and trudged along beside them, with his Brothers bringing up the rear.

A large bellied man with a beard and mustache the color of weak fire maneuvered his way to Loki's side. "Pray tell, little Prince, might I ask if there will be ale or wine where we travel? All this slogging through snow makes one thirsty."

"Normally, I would say no," he answered, keeping his head bowed so that the hood of his cloak kept his features from view. "Water is plentiful here, if one merely takes the time to melt it for drink. But when Mother deemed it necessary to meet the All-Father, she had the Priests open two casks from the Temple cellars and begin preparations for a feast – as it would be foolhardy to trust that the shifting evening winds would allow your company to travel back to the site of the Bifrost until the morrow. Sleeping chambers are also being prepared, though I believe, if the stories are true and you Aesir truly live in excess, you will find them most inhospitable."

Shrewd brown eyes attempted to catch a glimpse of his own. "That starkly furnished, huh?"

"They are the sleeping quarters of those inclined more towards spiritual goals than material gain. That Mother requested that all the spare furs of the Temple be divided among them will mean little to your people's comfort in a place built for a race that sees warmth as a non-essential."

"For a race that sees warmth as a non-essential, you seem invested in it yourself," the only female warrior of the Aesir made note.

A large blue finger pushed Loki into a stumble, even as his Brothers laughed. "Our Brother is a hedonist, first and foremost," Helblindi teased.

"'Tis truly the shame of the House of Laufey," Byleistr rumbled between guffaws.

Giving a huff of breath, Loki drew himself upwards. "Should you really be teasing in front of guests one who knows all of your stumbling attempts to woo Princess Rhianna, Brothers?"

That shuts his brothers up for a good many minutes of cold walking, before the blond from before asks, "Is this Princess a beauty?"

"Ah," Loki smiles pleasantly, as he feels his Brothers bristle in jealousy. "The fair Princess Rhianna's beauty is known throughout Jotunheim, just as much as the beauty of her people. Known, and forewarned against."

"I take it then, she's not Jotun. But to be forewarned against for being beautiful?"

"There is a saying in Jotunheim," Byleistr rumbled, "'That which is most beautiful, is most dangerous.' And never is it truer than with the Snow Wraiths. They are glamour creators, and trick our kind into seeing them to be as beautiful as you Aesir, and use that beauty to lead their victims into their dens to be slaughtered and eaten."

"Ah," the blond responded, looking as if he'd bitten into something that tasted rotten.

A dour looking man clapped the blond on the shoulder. "We're only spending the night, Friend Fandral. I'm sure you can live one night without the comfort of another."

"Oh, I'm sure I could, Hogun," the blond rejoined with a suffering expression. "Ah, but it will be a hard night indeed. The sacrifices one must make..."

Not being able to resist the chance, Loki felt his flesh and bones shift and easily slip into a new conformation. "Well, if you're sure you wouldn't mind lying with a Jotun, that might be a sacrifice you don't have to make..." she trailed of, voice light and infectious with the teasing hint.

"Brother!" both Helblindi and Byleistr growled, one admonishingly the other in surprise, even as one giant blue hand snatched her off the ground. Helblindi tucked her close to his chest.

The blond had stopped in his tracks, wide green eyes following the fur cloaked figure as it was swept up out of the snow, seemingly stupefied. Loki choked on a series of giggles, even as the female warrior stomped through the snow and smacked the blond upside the head. "Keep walking, and stop thinking such horrid things," she hissed, in a voice Loki could barely hear this close to Helblindi's pounding heart. "We're here for Thor, not to sample the exotic."

"Excellently put, Lady Sif!" the portly one shouted, and it was as if some magic of invisibility was shed as he hugged the three Aesir to his person. "Onwards! To Thor's injured side we must journey, so that we can lift his spirits in his time of need!"

"Put me down," the dour one dressed in blue growled, kicking viciously at the rotund one's leg.

"Brother," Helblindi started again, a hard look to his features. "You should not tease the Aesir in that fashion. It is-"

"Disgusting!" Byleistr burst out, sounding scandalous. Helblindi gave him a glare, to which the youngest defended, "It is! Acting like a bar wench, enticing a lowly guard! Mother would be ashamed of you!"

"Brother," Loki sighed, slipping forms once more and shaking his head. "You are far, far too enamored with appearances for appearances sake. I admit there are times for such things, but a measly walk through the snow is not one of them."

Byleistr growled low and deep, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Fine then, continue baiting the tiny ones! I'll have no more of this," he announced, and increased his stride until minutes later he was walking at their Mother's side.

"Apologies, for both my Brothers' behaviors," Helblindi said, looking down on the small crowd of Aesir.

"Nonsense! No apologies, my large blue friend," the fire-bearded one said with a wink. "Why, the more a family quarrels, the better, I always say. It's when they grow quiet and despondent you need to worry."

"Ah," Helblindi blinked, and looked down with chagrin and a little bit of mirth in his eyes. "That explains Mother's attitude towards your moods so much, don't you think Brother?"

Loki scowled as his Brother broke into more laughter that a few of the Aesir joined in, and crouched down in Helblindi's hold to sulk in silence for the rest of the walk to the Temple's auxiliary buildings.

--TBC

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Next: Audience of Kings