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[ Loki stands off to the side, almost detached in appearance, bright green eyes tracing the lines of the large wolf. He's hardly frightened, that much is to be expected of course, instead he's curious. He could feel one of his children settled in the distance, had come to investigate; Fenrir had been hidden last he had sought him out; and now he was prowling. ]

Something troubles you?

[Sorry, Dad, but you're the last person he wants to see right now -- or ever, really, at least as far as he knows. He's never really known the best way to be pissed off about having his family torn apart and thrown to opposite ends of the Nine Realms, but taking out the bitterness on the father who did nothing to stop it seems reasonable.

So when he hears that voice, his massive head swings in that direction, eyes gleaming Jotun red; with a low growl, he turns away again almost immediately.]

It's none of your concern.

[ If he was at all unnerved by the large head or bright eyes Loki did not show it. His face that unreadable porcelain that it ever was, green eyes staring back impassively. He doesn't move, as if rooted to the spot, watching the thick fur for several seconds before he finds the words he cares for in return. ]

It is. [ They can, however, argue that till Ragnarok-- but Loki cares not to. ] Tell me what is troubling you, child.

[A snarl:] Do not call me that. [He noses at the ground, pawing at the earth, unsatisfied by whatever it is he finds -- or doesn't find.] We have nothing to say to each other, god of lies.

You may hate me so, but my words ring no less true. [ His tone doesn't waver, even in the face of such anger. He feels no need for fear, whatever reasoning he had for that kept to himself. He steps forward then-- still keeping some distance but inspecting the wounded ground. ]

I fear we have a great many things that needed to be said, but were not. Perhaps that is the problem.

Eloquent platitudes... the promises of war and glory? [Fenris snorts, a heavy sound from such a large animal.] I care nothing for prophecies. They are nothing but stories made true by superstitious fools. Save your battles, and your words, for my brother and sister -- they are only too eager for your empty affection.

[ For a moment he has stilled, for all the silver his tongue was said to possess he lacked a response he found entirely fitting. He could snap angrily, say a dozen things to wound as he and been wounded, but he does not. ] Do you truly think my affection hallow? [ Another step, ever closer but not bridging the short gap to contact. He is no where near fool enough to underestimate Fenris as others might. ]

[The wolf is watching him now -- tracking him, as if reluctant to put his back to a powerful being he so ferociously mistrusts; after all, Fenrir has his strength, but his father has magic, and magic is altogether a different sort of foe.]

Tell me I am wrong. Go on -- tell me one of your infamous lies, Son of Laufey. I'm waiting.

Fenrisúlfr... [ He continues, some restraint clear in his voice, as if there were more he wanted say that he did not. Taking another step forward he raises one hand slowly, reaching out as if to brush against his flank; the movement is slow enough to allow Fenris to move away should he care to. ]

Do you hate me, Lokison? [ The wolf had not his name, but he was no less his son. ]

[He doesn't simply move. He snaps his jaws at the reaching hand with a savage growl, hackles raised and fangs bared in a clear, if frayed, sort of warning.]

Jörmungandr insists I would sabotage my interests by spilling your blood, do not test my faith in his judgment!

What scent trail has enraptured you so, Fenrir?

[He pauses, and glances her way.]

Sister.

[He continues tracking, or trying to, at least; judging by the way he stalks about this way and that, he's either trying to capture the trail, or whatever made it was in the grip of some mania.]

There is no trail -- not yet. Our brother claimed I would find something here. Something of great importance.

It is not like Jormungandr to make false claims. Did he indicate what, or indeed whom you are to pursue? [She silently watches him a while longer, intrigued by his absolute focus on the task at hand.]

I may be able to assist you in your search by means of dowsing.

[ Leaning against a nearby wall or tree watching his son move about, Loki didn't move yet to find out what Fenrir was looking for, in fact he was simply enjoying seeing the wolf out and about.

[Fenrir growls with impatient frustration.] He said nothing else but that, and I detest riddles. Yet if I am to find anything -- if there is anything to find, and the depths haven't simply driven him mad -- I will do it myself. Unless Jormungandr sent you to do my searching for me.

[...he catches that unpleasantly familiar scent too easily, and his hackles raise with momentarily controlled anger.]

I. Hate. When people stare at me.

[ When the hackles rose Loki pushed up and moved closer to his child, looking smug as always he tilted his head.]

And do I, your father count as 'people' I sincerely think not. We can not start this way, I was actually looking for you, I have brought something for you my son.

[Their brother was not one for verbosity.]

I came of my own accord, eager to see the source of all this activity on Midgard.

Keep it. [Every word out of his massive canine jaws is aggressively hostile, but he doesn't bother to so much as glance in his father's direction.] I want nothing from you.

Have I offended you of late? [ Loki did not flinch or show any type of fear at the hostile tone, he did not fear his childern, even if they all had rights to hate him at times he choose to try to be a better father. Even if he was not suppose to be near them at all. Denying Odin's rules of late was one of his simple joys.] Are you quite sure. It is a rather fine cut of meat.

My magic is not so potent as yours, or our brother's, but I know enough of the secret paths between realms. But to use them for a wild goose chase...

[In an apparent act of stubborn defiance to Jormungandr's irritatingly confusing instructions, he stops sniffing around to lie down on the ground and stretch out with an air of petulance.]

This realm is already chaos, I am astounded that you noticed a difference.

[The wolf makes a sound that's half laugh, half snarl.] I would just as soon accept poison from your hands. Unless you seek to feed me your beating heart, take your tainted gifts and leave me in peace.

Poison? Do you truly think that I would bring such a thing upon my own flesh and blood? Surly you jest. [ He watched the other a long moment, he was not sure what this was about. He knew had wrong them all, this much was true. However he had expected a warmer greeting.]

I would ne'er doubt your time is precious, Brother. [As far as her powers were concerned, she did have an unfair advantage over the boys; her magic was drawn from Niflheim itself. She bites her lower lip to hide her amusement at his sulking. Fenrir would not want his little sister to undermine his inherent dignity.]

I've merely noticed that Midgard has seen more inter-dimensional activity of late, than it has in centuries.

[All of the warmth for their father had gone to Hel and Jormungandr; Fenrir chose instead to despise him, to place all blame for everything that's happened on his head. When the Allfather accused them based on visions of the future and tore them apart, what did Loki do, their father who supposedly once had the Allfather's ear? Not a damn thing.

Perhaps putting all fault on Loki is a bit unreasonable... but then again, an enormous capacity for nursing injustice and hateful perceptions does tend to run in the family.]

You would do nothing for your flesh and blood. Nothing, as you have always done -- unless it served you. But I am no servant of yours.

[Fenrir himself has very little magic at all; what there is of it allows him to shift from one form to the other and keeps him growing, gaining strength as he gains his size. He snorts with disdain, turning his head to stare into the distance.] I've no interest in what stirs on this mortal planet. I hope it is not your intention to suggest prophecies to me with regards to your observances -- you know I want nothing to do with those foolish superstitions.

[She smiles wryly at his good sense, Fenrir would always remain the most grounded of the siblings. Unfortunately it is her business to take note of any disruptions in the balance of each realm, regardless of whether or not the matter was of interest to her.]

Then do not let this unknown trail vex you so. Come, let us return you to the expanses of Jotunheim.

[The wolf heaves a great sigh through his nose, sending up a cloud of dust from the ground.] It has been a very long time since I felt the icy winds of our childhood home, sister. Tell me, does your dead realm remind you of the endless winter?

[ He curls his fingers in toward his palm slowly, arm lowered to his side in the process. It's a reaction he's not surprised by, even if it raises his own ire; he desires not this sort of conflict with those who were to be his children, but finds understanding in it regardless. ]

Tell me why you seem so keen to reject me when your brothers do not.

Do not question me why my siblings leap at the thought of following you into death and destruction. I anticipate your cruelty, your careless arrogance, your lies. When the Allfather called us to answer for that which has not happened and may never happen, where were you, our loving father? In the cold winds of Jotunheim, where were you? For all the ages past, while we have grown in solitude and neglect, where were you?

[Snarling, Fenrir whirls away, his footsteps shaking the ground in his wrath.]

Do not answer. It is nothing to me. You are nothing.

[She must tread carefully in her description of Niflhel. Should she speak ill of it she may come across as a petulant child, complaining when she is in a more fortunate position than her brothers. On the other hand, she could easily appear boastful if she were to promote it.]

Jotunheim is a land of tundra and great, icy forests. When you are there you feel anchored to your body, to the elements and to your most basic needs. Niflheim is less tangible; it is blanketed in mists, drawing you ever deeper inside to come upon dreams or nightmares. The cold reaches deeper than the frost of Jotunheim. It is a deathly chill.

For a long time I was blind to the beauty of my realm. I was pining for our home but my eyes have since been opened to its wonders. I have made it my own and, in turn, it has claimed me.

[Fenrir listens in silence, watching her for a while, before eventually turning away to gaze off into the distance again. He sighs against when she's finished, but it's softer; the sound is almost wistful, but it would be difficult to be sure of such a thing from a beast like him.]

You are the best suited of us to rule, sister. [He speaks the next words slowly, as if they're foreign to him... which isn't quite untrue.] I am... glad for you, to dwell in such magnificence.

[She feels a little foolish, having unintentionally trailed off into a monologue. In her early youth, she had felt the least worthy to rule. Perhaps this worked in her favour, she was not too proud to learn.]

We have all faced our respective trials admirably. Mother raised us well.

[She goes silent for a few moments after Fenrir's last statement.] I would have you all here with me, but not in death. You deserve a full life too.

[Stretching again, he turns back to look at her, crossing his paws in front of him.] I am satisfied with the life I have. All I wish is to be left in peace, for my children to have the same courtesy -- not to be overshadowed by prophecies and fear. But we are haunted by the Ragnarok.

[Fenrir's sentiments are shared by his sister. Hel would hate to see her nephews come to harm, they were the sons she could not have.]

Everything must come to an end eventually but I can only hope that you will not suffer as is predicted, you deserve peace.

That said, I will not blithely follow our father into battle should he decide to wreak havoc on a whim. I would need a good reason to disturb the dead in their state of rest.

[A low growl issues from Fenrir's throat at the mention of their father.]

You owe him nothing, Hel -- none of us do. Let him fight his own battles, and die if he wishes.

Edited 2012-05-24 19:14 (UTC)

I realise that.

[She says this knowing full well that she has been too soft on him in the past. She could easily turn Loki away when he was being arrogant and self-absorbed but it was during his frailer moments that she found her resolve to be lacking. It infuriated her to no end.]

He knows how to manipulate everyone, perhaps his own kin more than most.

[The way Fenrir snorts at that implies his disbelief that their father could ever hold such sway over him. After all, Hel is far more useful to Loki on a regular basis; Fenrir has managed to go about left to his own devices for a long time. As for Jormungandr... well, Fenrir has never really known what to make of their serpent brother, or his motivations.]

You allow him to control you, sister -- is his power greater than yours? Are we not the ones so feared by the Asgardians?

You are right, of course. I know that, had we not been of any use to him, we would have been forgotten along with the rest of our half-siblings.

[Hel does not know how Fenrir and Jormungandr experienced their father's visits, she had not thought to ask them. Throughout her early years in Niflheim, she had been largely self-sufficient. Loki only started to acknowledge her once she had come of age. By then, it had become clear that Niflheim had accepted her as its queen. Over the years she had adapted her approach to him.]

I have wished him dead many a time, then I am reminded that I would be left to mind him on a more permanent basis. I have grown cold towards him of late. [Her indifference seemed to affect him more deeply than their heated arguments which Loki would use in order to guilt her into assisting him. He could not stand being ignored.]

At my best, I do not dignify him with a second thought. [He says it dismissively, as if to emphasize it by doing exactly that -- even if it's not as accurate as he'd like her to think it is. They all inherited certain traits from their father... the ability to carry a perceived grudge and nurse it into something truly vicious is one that Fenrir managed to acquire.]

Does your sovereignty keep you very busy, in the dead realms?

[She nods at her older brother's words but does not say anything further. Hel was sad to see Fenrir retaliating in this way, she believed him to be above such behaviour. Her own tolerance came about from her trying to distance herself from Loki. Her talent in magic, illusions in particular, came from him but their personalities differed considerably. She may have had his charm but it was coupled with her mother's sincerity. She puts her thoughts behind her and answer's Fenrir's question.]

It does, but it is not the same as ruling over a living realm. There is no place for politics in a spiritual existence. [Niflheim defied practicality in many ways, nothing was quite as it seemed.]

Even now, I can feel shades passing into the afterlife and I instinctively know where each must go. Some deserve to be treated well while others deserve punishment.

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Hope you don't mind

LOVE your PB choice, by the way.

Not at all!

Wonderful!

Why thank you, I feel the same way about your human Fenrir.

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Aww shucks.

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Must sleep, will tag back later.

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