She panted awake, still feeling the dry heat on her skin, the silky voice in her mind willing her forward, ever deeper into the ruins of Hel.

Aela groaned, dragging her hands through the slowly lengthening strands. It had been cut again a week or so before they'd left the main camp - the last of Niflheim she'd seen - but a few days on the road had taken it from velvet so something a little longer. Back in the main camp she'd noticed the other Nifl's had kept theirs short, regardless of their separation from the herd.

Someone, and she suspected it was their leader, kept them in line with the others, regardless of their proximity.

She was unnerved to dream of the well again. To dream of the mountain and the choking heat. To relive the unsteadiness of her own footsteps as they took her ever further up. The voice had been a surprise, unnerving her further - it's tone silken enough to make her wishful, to want to follow it to wherever it led. Strong like a leader, but comforting, like a mother.

She hadn't fallen in, this time. Instead, she'd merely paused at the uneven stones that made its walls and had stared in, feeling the keen sense of drawing, intense need. Had listened to that voice begging her further, to come forward, to give in and find the speaker. She'd felt her feet betray her, lifting off the rocky earth but some strongwilled part of her soul had managed to keep her grounded.

To keep her…safe.

Though she wondered whether following it, going down into that depthless dark would allow her to see Loki again, even if it were merely for the briefest moment. Would he be chained still, or would it be a memory - happy - the kind she spent the quiet moments of her day focusing on?

She'd been warned about the dreams, but hadn't expected to fight the draw of the well most nights... Or well, what counted for 'night', down here in the dark. They rested when they were tired. There was no light, no dawn or dusk…only the murky darkness, the embrace of mist and filth. They rested when tired, moved when they weren't, and ate when hunger gnawed at their stomachs. Many of the other races had followed the Nifl's suits, had used whatever they had available to cut their hair right back…easier to keep clean and unknotted.

She knew it was asinine to miss her plaits, but a part of her did; missed the uncomfortable weight of them, the way they'd always tangle in whatever she was clambering through.

She missed feeling clean most of all, though. Her face was smeared in dust and grime; her armour no better. They'd left the camp a few days ago, travelling through the tunnels in search of a missing Jotun, a forager who should have been back days previously. The camp leader had asked for volunteers, and she'd raised a hand almost immediately, unable to bear the stares of the other soldiers any longer.

Wishing to go back to obscurity, for the first time in her life. She couldn't lead them, not without more knowledge, without the buy-in of their existing management, so instead became merely a spectacle as she spent day after day training with Geva, trying to bring that power back to the surface without the threat of immanent death.

She became the main source of entertainment in the small camp.

Their group was a small one. Sam and Bodil had been forced to remain behind to travel out with a different group, their stealth benefiting a scouting party. Sten had come with her though, Geva by his side and the gruff comradery of the two reminded her painfully of Jorik. Both agreed that they needed to get to the next camp, whichever one Themsal had been sent to, but when they'd asked Syd she'd said the three were too conspicuous. That it would need to be purely the existing warriors, the ones who'd rescued them. Scarred and filthy and entirely known to the settled camps that scraped an existence down in the dark of the mid and front lines. If they turned up with the Jarl's daughter, with the weaponsmaster or one of his prized friends, they might as well announce their intent.

No. She'd sent them out with two frost giants and a few Nifl's and had sent her own people forward to the camp. They'd check in, see if everyone was safe, if the Lieutenant had made it safely. If he'd stopped there at all, and whether he'd made any mention of abandoning an entire squad in the dark. All she and the others had to do was try and find the Jotun, and whatever food and water they could forage on the way.

She needed to ask Syd about the voice.

Ask whether it was the magic of the realm, seeping into her mind. Showing her visions of a mountain, a well, her lost love at the base. Drawing her forward like a moth towards a flame. Did others see similar, hear similar?

She'd mentioned it offhand to Sten, a few days before, as she'd awoken gasping and half-way out of her tent, weapons already buckled.

She'd been sleepwalking.

And it…worried her.

He'd just said he'd done a few tours underground and had never dreamed like that. Told her to get some more rest, let her mental strength replenish. That she'd gone through a great ordeal, before making it here - and something like that weighed on a mind. She was unnerved though, and as she wiped herself down with some wet moss; not caring about her lack of decorum in front of the other soldiers, she couldn't help but feel it was something deeper. Something more…concerning than mere mental exhaustion.

Something wanted her.

Down deep in the dark, in the depths of the undead…something was whispering for her to come through.

She ran her fingers over the deep crack in her horn and sighed, tightening the laces on her boots and looking over at the frost giants. They'd been the ones to raise the alarm, to request a group…to search , and Syd had been reluctant until the bigger of the two had said they'd go regardless, but would only survive if she allowed backup.

And Aela…well she felt like she owed them a debt. A debt for knowledge not given, for a father, a king, still grieving.

Ancestors above, she wished she'd had the foresight to tell Laufey about his son. His son. Hidden in plain sight for so many years in Asgard. It would likely cause a war but down here, the only thing to keep her fresh being sodden moss , she couldn't bring herself to care if the Frost Giant King enacted his revenge. She still remembered the day Loki's parentage had been revealed, the shock and anger feeling as fresh as she watched the Jotun's prepare as it had been that afternoon in Asgard.

They'd been lounging in the meadow when Loki had brought up his…concerns. Thor had been exiled for a week or two and he'd been quiet. Contemplative. She wanted to laugh, looking back. She'd been so worried at the time that he'd regretted betraying his brother, that the reality of the takeover had soured in comparison to the concept of it. She'd worried that guilt had been what kept him quiet.

No…it had been his own fear.

His own concern.

He'd been touched, in Jotunheim. Grabbed on the arm by one of the Jotun warriors, right there in plain view. Aela had panicked at first when he quietly told her - his voice weary - so, so aware of the damage they could do to even a weak Nifl, nevermind an Asgardian . Someone without Jotun blood in their veins, regardless of how long ago it had gotten there. He was fine, though; his skin was just as perfect as it always had been. She'd slapped him on the arm for worrying her, had been so light-hearted about the whole thing, remembering the Hor-verglace, how he'd been fine in the face of staggering frost magic then, too. That it must have been his own magic, protecting him

He'd grimaced, thin lips pulled into a tight, even thinner line. Had shook his head.

"I spoke to Jorik. When I touched you, after the Hor-Verglace, he saw the same thing I saw, that I experienced when that…" he swallowed, "when that Frost Giant grabbed me in Jotunheim. My skin turned blue. And it wasn't just the magic, because the Jotun looked at me with shock. He knew that it meant something, practically stepped back with the shock of it"

Aela had remained quiet, tilting her head so it rested against her knee. Had simply…let him continue.

"There's an artefact, down in the collection"

"The one the Jotun's broke into?"

That serious grimace quickly tweaked at the corners, his expression turning on a dime, unable to let the comment pass without gloating. "The ones I let the Jotuns break into"

"Of course, of course" she waved her hand, rolling her eyes. "I'm still mad at you for that but continue, please, before Safi over there inhales too many flowers"

The bear in question rolled in the freshly budding flowers, letting out great cascades of pollen. Eirik and Isla were sparring, and Jorik stood with them in his human form, correcting their movements.

Loki raised his hand towards Saf, and it had warmed her to see Saf wiggle forward, shoving her enormous head right under his hand, happily accepting the playful tug of her fur as he continued to speak.

"I don't know if I'm cursed, or…" his words drifted, and Aela grimaced, reaching behind him to pluck an errant frond from Saf's leg fur.

"Cursed? By an item in the vault?"

"No, no" he'd sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "There's an item in the vault that belonged to the Jotuns. And…it's been calling to me, since meeting you, but especially since the magic of the Hor-Verglace touched my skin. I began to research it, assuming I was merely interested in Frost Magic. But then the Jotun touched me and I've been dreaming of it, thinking of it"

"Alright" Aela sighed, nodding. "Then we go to it"

He'd scoffed, looking over at her like she'd said something utterly ridiculous. "We can't just go to a magical artifact because it calls to me. That's one of the first things I was taught by my mother, as a child. You ignore the call of power, lest it corrupt. When things draw you in like that, come to you in your dreams, it's never good"

Aela stood, smoothing down the silken lines of her dress. It had seemed so simple, everything back then had been simple though - when it was just the pack. Loki was part of it, fitting in seamlessly. "It's a good thing, my love, that I've never been fantastic at rules then, isn't it? Let's go see the magic box"

She set off at a stride, mentally telling the Bjornlings to keep training. They were going to break into a vault, and couldn't be too obvious, after all.

She snorted as she remembered the look of surprise, of abstract shock Loki had given when Eirik's voice popped into everyone's minds, telling the two to have fun. Ignored the sharp, curious glance from Sten, across the camp, obviously thinking she'd lost her mind as she laughed to herself, staring down at her boots in the gloom of Hel.

It had all gone downhill, once they'd gotten into the vault.

He'd shown her each artefact, in turn. Endless fire and charmed weapons. Skulls and stones and armour that made her salivate with want. And right there, at the end, the glowing blue box. The Casket of Winters. It looked eerily similar to another artefact, Loki had explained, the Tesseract - though that had been lost to earth sometime before; stolen from Tønsberg by some warmonger or another. They'd stood beside it for a while, just…looking.

He'd gotten the charm for her bracelets whilst researching the Casket. Looking into the Jotun magic, how it had been constructed, constrained. How it had mixed with draconic ancestors to create the Nifl people. How it had been harnessed and used as a weapon to conquer worlds.

All that knowledge. World ending, people conquering knowledge…condensed into a personal cooling charm.

She'd held his hand as he reached forward to touch it, finally, and she'd gasped as his skin…changed. The peach tone turning to blue, his blue eyes turning to a red that matched her own enough to know what he was.

"Jotun"

The words had slipped past her lips before she had the sense to stop them and he moved his hand from the top in an instant, snatching it back as if burned. Glaring at her with enough hate and anger to make her desperate to step back, but she refused, stepping forwards instead.

"No. No"

"I…" she'd hesitated, leaning in to try and kiss his cheek, shutting her eyes in a resigned sigh as he'd moved away from her.

"I'm Asgardian. My mother and father are Asgardian. My magic is hers. I don't…"

"I could be wrong, Loki. But…I know where my own ancestry lies, and…"

He'd glared again, and she'd forced her own anger down - there was no point getting into a shouting match in Odin's precious vault, not when the man before her wasn't truly angry with her. Her fire didn't quite understand that, raring to go, but she did - and forced her words to soften.

"Perhaps it's something else. I've just…known Laufey all my life, known the other Jotuns all my life"

He began to walk away and she stepped to follow. "He lost his son, Loki. After…after your father attacked. I can't believe I didn't see the possibility sooner, though you're hardly the size of a typical Jotun so I can't be too hard on myself…but your magic, your regal standing, your power…" Her voice moved to a murmur as her brain whirred through the possibilities, what this could mean for the Jotun people, their standing in the realms, "this is a blessing…"

"It is a curse!"

His voice was a sneer, but she could see the tears in his eyes, and then heard the footsteps on the gilded floors, ducking herself behind a pillar and trying to make herself as small as possible. Checking that there wasn't a curving shadow of her horns on the floor. Loki turned back to the casket, eyes flicking to her for a mere moment before he placed both hands on the handles, ignoring his fathers plea to stop from the top of the stairs.

Aela watched, tears starting to roll down her cheeks as his hands began to shift again, stunning blue overtaking his usual paler tan. His skin was no longer beautifully pristine, marked instead with the intricate, raised lines of his people. He could deny it all he wanted but like called to like and she could feel the kinship there. Could sense the tang of ice in the air, could see the impossible beauty of him. As an Asgardian he was stunning, beautiful, but in what was obviously his true form?

He was perfection.

"Am I cursed?"

He was so, so desperate. She could see it in his eyes, in the shake of his arms as he lifted the artefact. And as Aela suspected, Odin quickly denied it. This was no curse. She could see it in an instant. Had seen it in an instant.

How hadn't she noticed it, as his fingers gripped hers beneath the blanket as he held her on Eirik's back. He'd been able to withstand the sheer force of frost magic…no Asgardian had that kind of ability. It was too impossible though, no-one had seen it. He'd stood in front of Laufey himself and the King hadn't seen the young Asgardian for who he truly was…

"What am I?"

His voice was rough with emotion and Aela had to put her hand over her mouth to withhold her near sob as Odin tried to argue, tried to insist that Loki was his son.

It wasn't a true answer though, and Loki with his silver tongue knew that all too well, betrayal painfully stark on his beautiful face.

Loki turned, eyes flicking to her for the briefest of moments as he faced his father, that blue, the red of his eyes, quickly draining as he barely held in his anger, his confusion and grief and asked what more was he, than that. Because he knew. He'd known too, the moment she'd said it - wouldn't have reacted so strongly, otherwise. He moved away from the Casket, away from her.

His words and the soft footfall of his boots was the only echoing sound in the marble corridor, and her heart broke as she heard his question. As he asked his father what she'd just insinuated…that the Casket wasn't the only thing he'd stolen from the Jotun's that fateful day.

"No"

Oh Ancestors below. She'd known Odin wasn't someone to be trifled with but to steal a child? This went beyond the pale, beyond what she'd thought possible. Her father had spoken often of the pure grief Laufey had experienced, how he worried so, so regularly that the same thing would happen to them. That one of his children would be stolen, as Laufey's was. The King of the Jotun's had been close to them as children. His people holidayed in Niflheim, after all, and it was one of the few realms that dared trade with the Frost Giants. They were practically on the border, and he'd watched her grow…had carefully watched Astrid from afar as she'd grown up so beautiful, so smart. Had gifted weaponry to young Aela, had sent instructors through to teach Jotun techniques. It was a side of the man few rarely got to see…

And Odin was the cause of all that heartbreak.

"In the aftermath of the battle I went into the temple and I found a baby"

Stole a baby.

It took all her inner strength to remain still, and she shoved her fist to her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

"Small, for a giant's offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die"

Not left. Never left. It was a temple of worship, the only place he'd thought safe. One of the few decencies the realms had, in war. Places of worship were to be honoured. He'd had to put the prince somewhere…had thought the runt would be safe.

She tasted blood as she bit down hard on her own fist. The lies Odin span - did he believe them himself after so long? Just what was he capable of?

"Laufeys son?"

Loki's words were so filled with pain, with confusion. Gasping for breath as he begged to know why. Why Odin would steal a child? Loki hadn't grown up stupid, hadn't been raised to be gullible, and wasn't accepting some soft tale of Odin's now. And Aela, hidden behind the pillar and filled with rage…well she couldn't be prouder. She released the fist from her jaw, gripping tight to the stone behind.

She would have to tell Laufey…he deserved to know.

"Tell me!"

Loki's words were a near roar, echoing around the chamber and Aela could hear the wetness in them and ached to move from her spot, to comfort him and show a unified front. She couldn't though, not without giving far too much up. Not without showing exactly what they were to one another; because she knew it would be obvious in that moment. There was no way to hide the raw depths of her emotion, not as she felt her nails sharpen to claws, as she felt the stone give way under their strength. Odin finally spoke, empty words of bringing peace and prosperity, and she swallowed the fire that threatened to erupt. How dare he continue to lie. Loki was a trophy, as much as any of the artefacts in this marble fucking tomb.

She told him as much, through their mental link and he repeated the venom in her place, accusing Odin of exactly that. Of locking him up, until he might have use of a Jotum prince. He'd always told Loki he was destined to rule…but never where.

They continued to bicker and she hardly listened, too focused on keeping her breathing low, of desperately keeping her rage under control as she heard the man she loved beg for a modicum of truth, to know why he wasn't told.

"Guards! Please help!"

What?

She rushed forward then, no longer caring. Not as she saw Odin on the ground, eyes glancing to hers with surprise for the briefest of seconds as Loki stood over him, hands shaking. Then those eyes closed, and the prince desperately tried to lift his father's head, to check for his life force. She quickly leaned in front of him, giving him a chance to wipe his face, to collect himself as she lied to the guards. Told them Odin had wanted to show her the vault, had asked the two to meet him there. That he'd been telling Aela about Asgard's history when he'd collapsed on the stairs.

Overexcited.

Overwrought, with Thor's exile.

It felt so long ago. She couldn't help but think of it though as she watched the two giants move through their camp, sliding enormous gathering packs onto their backs. Their swords were impossibly long, something she'd have to wield with two hands fitting happily into one, and their magic felt like home against her skin. The soft, cold brush of it bringing sorrow and comfort in equal measure. She'd try sleeping next to them tonight, see whether their magic cooled whatever madness coursed through her.

"Come on, old man" she finally said, hauling herself to her feet and making her way over to Sten, clapping a hand against his shoulder. If he noticed the tears in her eyes, he didn't mention them.

"We've got a lost scout to find, and water to find, and neither are going to locate themselves. I wouldn't mind killing something, either"

"Bad dream?"

She wasn't answering that, not right now. Instead, she laughed, rolling her shoulders and clicking a stubborn knot in her neck. "Just remembering something from…before. Something that made me impossibly angry"