Unknownfate
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Chapter 141
🕑 Added 2025-05-28 14:27:38 +0000 UTCWhile Arthuria was addressing her people during the interview, someone else was also addressing their people, albeit in a far more direct manner.
Within the realm of the Gods, Asgard, the young prince, Loki Odinson, stood on the balcony of the golden palace. He was dressed in his finest clothes, with the Allfather’s own spear, Gungnir, in his hand.
He looked every bit the noble ruler. And before him, a vast number of people had gathered at his request.
He couldn’t help but be pleased with himself and the sight before him. Being able to gather so many people with a word, having them all look up at him, it was… pleasing.
Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke loudly, magic carrying his voice to ensure everyone could hear him. “People of Agard, I have called you here today to announce some important news.”
He deliberately paused, enjoying having them all hang on his every word like that. “Not long ago, Laufey, the king of Jotunheim and leader of the Jötunn, was killed by me!”
His announcement was met with shock by the gathered crowd. Everyone was confused. They knew who Laufey was, but they couldn’t understand why Loki would suddenly kill him or how. They didn’t think he was strong enough to pull something like that off.
Loki, too, understood this, so he was well prepared. “I am sure you have questions, so I shall explain. As you know, following my beloved brother, Thor’s exile, and our beloved Allfather’s Odinrest, I have taken up the heavy burden of regent of the nine realms.”
And wasn’t that a pleasure, to be able to call himself that… not as good as being the king, but still far better than Thor, that poor fool, spending his time in the mortal realm, dragging trash and filth through the city.
When he first learned that little bit of information from Heimdall, he could barely make it back to his room before bursting into loud laughter.
Even just thinking about it now made his lips curl into a smile.
“This is indeed a heavy burden.” He continued. “And to find the strength needed to lead us through such a challenging time, I often seek the wisdom of the Allfather, staying by his side to borrow his strength.” He said, making himself sound like the perfect son.
“Today, when I went to do that, I was shocked to find someone else inside the room, someone who wasn’t my mother had gone to rest, no, inside was none other than Laufey. He stood over our beloved king, with a knife raised to strike!” His words caused everyone to hold their breaths.
Some even covered their mouths in shock and anticipation. Loki proved himself worthy of his future title as God of Stories, and paused just long enough to make everyone desperate for the next part.
“Thankfully, I had Gungnir in my hand at the time.” He said, holding the spear up high. “And with a blast of the royal weapon, I killed him then and there, saving the Allfather, and killing an ancient enemy of our people!”
The crowd erupted. Some cheered, their voices echoing through the golden halls of Asgard, while others exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of what to make of this sudden, grand announcement. Loki let the noise wash over him, soaking in the surge of admiration and disbelief. It was, after all, precisely what he had hoped for.
With a slight flick of his wrist, he commanded silence, the magic in his voice crackling with authority. The clamor died down quickly, leaving only the hushed whispers of the wind that swept through the mighty columns.
“Yes, once more they snuck in and tried to commit a grave crime, though once more, they failed, and Asgard stands safe as always. However!” he paused. “We can’t allow this to be forgiven, the Allfather already showed mercy once, to show mercy again will make Asgard seem weak, we can’t allow that, because Asgard isn’t weak is it?”
The crowd roared back as one, their voices a wave of defiance that swept through the towering pillars and echoed off the shimmering walls. "No!" they shouted, fists raised, the fire of ancient warriors rekindling in their hearts.
Loki felt the thrill of it, the raw power of the masses bending to his will. He had them, truly had them, and the taste of that control was as intoxicating as the finest mead.
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a sharp, calculating light. "No," he repeated, letting the word linger, stretching it out like the coil of a serpent. "Asgard is not weak. We are the pinnacle of the nine realms. The guardians, the warriors, the rulers! Our name alone should strike fear into the hearts of our enemies!"
His voice, carried by magic, boomed across the gathered throng, vibrating in their very bones. Loki felt Gungnir pulse in his grip, as if the spear itself responded to his rising fervor.
"We shall not sit idle," he continued, his words cutting through the crowd's renewed whispers. "We shall not allow the Jötunn to strike at our hearts without consequence. We shall strike back. We shall remind the realms why Asgard reigns supreme!"
The air crackled with anticipation. He could see it in their eyes – the flicker of battle-lust, the hunger for glory that had built Asgard’s empire. Loki smiled, slow and wicked, his mind already weaving the next steps of his grand plan. #1
"Prepare yourselves!" he commanded, his voice sharp as the edge of a blade. "Sharpen your swords, ready your hammers, and steel your hearts, for war is upon us once more! And when we march, the nine realms will tremble beneath our steps, and the cries of our enemies will be drowned out by the clash of our blades!"
The crowd's response was a thunderous roar, the very stones of the palace trembling with the force of their fervor. Loki straightened, his heart pounding, the heady rush of control and chaos swirling within him. He had played his role perfectly, pulling the strings of their hearts and minds with a masterful touch.
He allowed himself to stand there, under the roar of the crowd as they called his name. This was an honour not even Thor had enjoyed.
And it was only the beginning.
He had for a time considered using the Bifrost to destroy all of Jotunheim at once, but had moved away from the idea.
While it would wash away the same of his own Jötunn heritage, and prove to his father that his heart was entirely with Asgard, he also knew that it wasn’t the best option, at least not right away.
No, the people of Asgard loved a good battle; they longed for a good war, but Odin hadn’t allowed it, always wanting peace. He now had the perfect excuse for a war, the perfect enemy.
The war was also the perfect way to earn even more approval from the people, and to eclipse Thor even more.
After all, Thor had invaded and almost gotten killed, so if he led an army there to kill everyone, to avenge them, wouldn’t he earn respect, wouldn’t he become even more beloved than Thor?
Enjoying the shouts and attention for a moment longer, he finally turned to leave, the shouts of his people still ringing in his ears, Loki allowed himself a small, private grin. This was his stage, his moment. The nine realms might not know it yet, but the age of Loki had begun.
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As Loki returned to calm his mother after the horrifying experience of nearly losing her husband, the Warriors Three and Sif found themselves standing together near the edge of the grand plaza, their armored forms still and uncertain amid the lingering echoes of the crowd’s deafening cheers.
Volstagg was the first to break the tense silence, his thick red beard twitching as he turned to his companions, his broad, armored chest rising and falling as he struggled to process what he had just witnessed. “Laufey,” he muttered, his deep voice carrying a note of disbelief.
“The king of Jotunheim, dead? At Loki’s hand?” He rubbed his chin, the metal of his gauntlet scraping against his thick, bristling beard. “I would never have thought it possible.”
And he had good reason to be shocked. Because he had only recently gone to Jotunheim with Thor and the others, and as much as he wanted to deny it, they had been soundly beaten. Even Thor, the strongest of them, had been no match for Laufey.
So to hear that someone like Loki had killed them was as unbelievable as it was shocking.
Fandral, standing with one hand resting on the hilt of his elegantly curved blade, let out a low, disbelieving chuckle, though it lacked any true mirth. “Our dear Loki, slayer of frost giants? Truly, the realms must be turning upside down.” He flicked his blonde hair back, eyes sharp and thoughtful. “Perhaps we have misjudged our young prince.” #1
Hogun, the grim warrior, remained silent, his dark eyes fixed on the balcony where Loki had just stood. His jaw tightened, the lines of his face hardening further. He had seen many battles, witnessed countless displays of power, but even he found this news difficult to accept.
Sif, her dark hair tied back in a severe braid, narrowed her eyes, her armored form stiff and coiled, like a spear ready to strike. She knew Loki, or at least thought she did. Cunning, sharp-tongued, and clever, but a warrior capable of striking down the king of the Jötunn? That seemed… unlikely. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that there was more to this tale than Loki’s grandiose words.
“Laufey was a warrior,” she muttered, her voice low and sharp, “a king among his people. He would not have fallen so easily, even to Gungnir. There is more to this than we have been told.”
Volstagg crossed his thick, powerful arms over his broad chest, his brow furrowing as he considered Sif’s words. “Aye, and Gungnir or not, Loki is no Thor. He is not the sort to wade into battle, to meet an enemy in open combat. He prefers shadows and schemes.”
“Yet he held the spear,” Hogun finally spoke, his voice a deep, steady rumble. “And that alone is power enough to turn the tide.”
Fandral snorted, though there was a hint of concern behind his usually easygoing grin. “Perhaps, but it still seems too convenient. A lone Jötunn sneaking into the Allfather’s chambers? A convenient opportunity for Loki to prove himself a hero while the Allfather lies helpless? It sounds more like one of Loki’s stories than the truth.” #1
Sif’s eyes darkened at that, her fingers tightening around the grip of her sword. “Then perhaps it is time we see what else Loki has been hiding. Far too many strange things have been happening lately, and I feel Loki is behind it all. I think it's best if we bring Thor back.”
Volstagg's eyes widened at Sif's words, his broad, ruddy face twisting into a look of alarm. "Bring Thor back?" he repeated, his deep voice carrying a note of unease. "Do you not remember what happened the last time we tried to gain access to the Bifrost? Loki controls it now.”
"Aye, but what choice do we have?" Fandral replied, his tone taking on a rare note of seriousness. "If Loki truly means to lead Asgard into a war of his own making, then we cannot simply stand by and do nothing."
Hogun's dark eyes narrowed, his broad shoulders shifting as he crossed his arms over his chest. "How do we reach Thor without the Bifrost? Loki might be able to sneak around him, but we have no such skill.”
Sif’s expression hardened, her jaw set in a fierce, unyielding line. “Then we must ask the Queen again, surely this time, she will see the importance of what we have to do. After all, Thor was banished for risking a war, and now Loki starts one.”
"The Queen," Volstagg muttered, his voice a low, rumbling growl. "If she has not already been blinded by Loki’s words, then perhaps she will hear us. But if Loki has her ear… this may be more dangerous than even we realize."
Fandral’s lips twisted into a wry smile, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his curved blade. “Dangerous, yes, but is that not our calling? To brave the impossible for the sake of our realm?”
