ad astra, per veritas

e tenebris oritur lux

Summary:

“Loki,” Laufey said, and the boy jerked as though he had been run through with the blade in Laufey’s hand. “You are the prince that died.”
. . .
In which Laufey takes a trip to Asgard to kill the dictator of the Nine Realms and along the way finds someone he never expected to see again.

Notes:

I said to myself "you don't have time for more fanfiction" and then I listened to the Thor 1 soundtrack today and sat down and speed-wrote seven pages of Loki fanfiction because that's what heroes do, I'm sure

Cover art by WantsToBelieve

Warning for idealization of death.

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e tenebris oritur lux
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For all the fuss he made in life, Odin Borson’s death was surprisingly anticlimactic.

Part of Laufey expected something dramatic to happen when his blade ripped through Odin’s spine, sending blood splashing thick across the marble floors, but as Odin crashed down and went still, the world stayed standing. It might have been just another day for all the universe cared.

Laufey had assumed for a long time that Odin had infused the palace with magic and the moment the king died, the building would crumble to dust. The marble floors didn’t so much as quiver.

Odin’s body dripped blood quietly in the empty throne room.

Laufey was not sorry by any means. There was only a distinct sense of letdown pooling at his feet as he bent down, unpinned Odin’s cloak from his shoulders, and slid the length of his scarlet-wet blade along the cloak, wiping the sword clean.

That was when the scream come from behind the partially-open throne room doors.

Laufey had closed the broad doors of the throne room behind him when he entered to kill Odin; there should not have been a crack between the doors. There should not have been a scream either, he had made sure the entire palace was emptied out just in case Odin’s magic really was holding up the place and it would all topple and crush thousands of people once he was dead.

Laufey had exactly one guess as to who was watching through the crack in the doors. There was one person who hadn’t been found present.

“Prince Thor,” he called, his voice echoing against the vaulted ceilings. "I expected you to come sooner."

The doors did not part. Nobody stepped through them brandishing a hammer, ready to fight for the king that had just been killed. Laufey took a step towards the doors. There was a distinct gasp, and all at once a thud as if someone had dropped something. Footsteps darted away.

Laufey strode across the throne room to the doors, every step slow and heavy. The sword was still nestled in his palm. Cautiously, the giant opened the double doors wide.

There was a young man sitting on the floor outside the throne room. Or no, not a man. Laufey guessed that the stranger was about two years away from coming of age, so that placed him safely in the boy category. His eyes were wide and shockingly green, hair dark and curly, facial structure sharp and eyelashes long.

Laufey knelt; the two of them were placed on the same level.

"I expected you to be a little more… muscular," the giant said, half-teasing. "From the stories I've heard of you, thunder god, you're quite the warrior."