Chapter 20 : THE HAMMER FALLS
Morning came too soon.
Loki forced himself upright, his body protesting every movement. The training session had pushed him further than he'd intended, and the recovery time was measured in more than just hours. His circuits felt raw—not damaged, but tender. Like muscles after the first day of exercise in years.
Council meeting in one hour. Pull yourself together.
The servant who brought breakfast noticed his condition but said nothing. Professional discretion. Loki ate mechanically—bread, fruit, some kind of protein that might have been meat from an animal he'd never heard of. His body needed fuel regardless of what his appetite thought about the situation.
The council chamber filled with its usual collection of calculating faces as he took his seat. Lord Tyr. General Váli. Lady Sigyn. The others whose names he'd memorized and whose agendas he'd catalogued. All of them watching the regent who'd somehow survived a week without catastrophic failure.
"The council recognizes—"
The doors burst open.
A messenger stumbled through, breathless and wild-eyed. The kind of entrance that meant bad news delivered at speed.
"Heimdall reports from the Bifrost, regent." The messenger's voice cracked. "Prince Thor attempted to lift Mjolnir."
The chamber fell silent. Every eye turned to Ethan, waiting for his reaction.
"And?"
"He failed, my lord. The hammer... the hammer didn't move."
Murmurs erupted around the table. Loki kept his face carefully neutral while his mind raced through implications.
Failed. Of course he failed. He hasn't had his moment yet—the sacrifice, the choice to put others before himself. The hammer won't respond until he earns it.
"Describe the scene."
"The mortal authorities had contained the hammer site. Prince Thor bypassed their defenses—fought through guards to reach the crater." The messenger swallowed. "He grasped the handle. He pulled with all his mortal strength. The hammer... the hammer remained embedded."
Thor. Kneeling in the mud. Staring at the weapon that defined him. Unable to make it respond.
I know that feeling. Waking in the wrong body. Reaching for power that refuses to answer.
The sympathy surprised him. He hadn't expected to feel anything for the arrogant prince who'd started this entire mess. But Thor wasn't just a plot point anymore. Thor was his brother—or the closest thing to a brother that this borrowed life would give him.
"The prince's current status?"
"Mortal authorities have detained him. Heimdall continues observation."
"Thank you. Dismissed."
The messenger fled, leaving Loki alone with a council of political vultures who sensed opportunity.
Lord Tyr spoke first, because Lord Tyr always spoke first. "If the hammer will not answer to Thor..."
"The hammer answers to worthiness, not birthright." Loki cut him off smoothly. "Thor's failure to lift it today doesn't mean he'll fail tomorrow. The All-Father's enchantment requires proof—proof that Thor hasn't yet provided."
"But surely, regent, we must consider the implications—"
"The implications are that my father's judgment continues as rendered." His voice hardened. "Thor was banished until he proves himself worthy. He hasn't proven himself worthy yet. The situation is unchanged."
"Some might argue," General Váli said carefully, "that a permanent failure to lift Mjolnir would necessitate... alternative arrangements for the succession."
And there it is. The knife aimed at Thor's back while he's down.
"Some might argue many things." Loki stood, using the height advantage that Loki's body provided. "I will not be one of them. Thor is the crown prince. Thor will return when he fulfills the conditions of his exile. Any discussion of 'alternative arrangements' can wait until and unless those conditions become impossible to fulfill."
"With respect, regent—"
"The council session is adjourned."
He walked out before they could object.
Frigga found him in the corridor outside, her expression mixing concern with something else—surprise, perhaps, or a new kind of recognition.
"You defended his claim to the throne."
"He's my brother."
"The Loki I knew might have used that moment differently." She fell into step beside him as they walked. "Thor's failure, the council's uncertainty—opportunities for advancement that the old Loki would have seized."
The old Loki would have sent the Destroyer to ensure Thor never returned at all.
"Perhaps he would have." Loki met her eyes. "I won't."
"Why?"
The question deserved honesty. Or as much honesty as he could safely provide.
"Because Thor isn't my enemy. He never was." He paused at a window overlooking the palace gardens—the same gardens where Frigga had given him the conditions of her acceptance. "The original conflict between us... it was built on jealousy I don't feel anymore. On resentment for wounds that have somehow healed. He's my brother. I want him to come home."
Frigga's hand found his arm, squeezed gently. "That morning, when you said something had changed—I believed you then. I believe you more now."
"Mother—"
"Whatever happened to you, whatever you've become—I'm proud of who you're choosing to be."
The words settled into his chest like warmth against the cold that lived there.
"Thank you."
"Now." Her tone shifted to business. "What do we do about the council's ambitions?"
"We wait. Thor will prove himself—I'm certain of it. Once he returns with Mjolnir in hand, the succession questions become irrelevant." He paused. "In the meantime, I continue to govern competently and give them no excuse to push for permanent changes."
"And if Odin wakes before Thor returns?"
"Then I explain what happened. Truthfully. And I trust that he'll see I made the right choices."
Frigga studied him for a long moment. "You've become remarkably confident for someone who's been regent for less than a week."
"I've become remarkably good at faking confidence." A ghost of a smile. "It's almost the same thing."
She laughed—genuine, surprised, delighted. The sound echoed through the corridor, and something in Loki chest loosened at having caused it.
She's alive. Whatever else happens, she's alive and I made her laugh.
That's worth something.
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