Loki had returned to the cottage's guest room and now lay on his side, facing the wall on which his daggers' momentum had been brought to a halt after he had sent them hurtling towards the image of the frost giant a short time before. He replayed the events that had just transpired in his mind a piece at a time.

First, the dream he had been in the midst of when his grandmother's shriek had roused him...whyever would he dream of that particular relic, he wondered. He of course knew its origin, its purpose, how it had become part of Odin's collection after the Battle of Jotunheim long, long ago. He had been but a babe in arms at the time of the battle but had heard the story many times. He had never given the Casket any more thought than he did any of the various other relics that rested there. What question had he been seeking to have answered and why would the greatest treasure of Jotunheim enlighten him? But then perhaps it had just been a silly dream as most were, his subconscious dredging something up from deep within for no real purpose whatsoever.

Next to ponder for Loki was the image of the Jotun, the frost giant that he had witnessed upon being wrenched from slumber. Perhaps, again, merely his mind making a connection to the dream itself, the origin of the relic. As a boy he and most children were told tales of the horrible, murderous monsters of Jotunheim, the boogeymen of all Asgardian children's nightmares. He had spent more time with his grandmother as a child, perhaps that was where the connection lay. Having been so suddenly pulled from his dream before his mind had completely let go of it had produced the hallucination. Yet, what he'd seen had not simply dissolved into nothingness, had not merely winked out of existence as one would expect a hallucination to do. It had seemed to dissipate as did one of his or his mother's or his grandmother's illusions. Strange to be sure, though that didn't mean he wasn't correct that it had merely been a manifestation of his own mind.

But then his grandmother herself had mentioned Jotunheim. She had been under the mistaken impression for some reason in her misfiring brain that his father, Odin, was there. It was certainly quite a coincidence, but maybe that truly was all it was. After all, Odin's defeat of Jotunheim was one of his most glorious moments and was still spoken of quite often on Asgard. Odin and the Battle of Jotunheim went together like bread and butter. It would not be in any way a shock for Frida to have connected the two in her confused ramblings.

Loki ultimately decided to close the book on the whole incident, chalking it up to coincidence and the effects of the first night in quite some time he had slept outside of his own bedchambers in the palace playing games with his subconscious. It made as much sense, perhaps more, than any other explanation. It was also possible, he thought, that his own brain trying to bring order to the chaos of his grandmother's disjointed, confused statements was becoming as addled as her own in the attempt. But then, that in itself struck him as peculiar...during the whole of that day, all she had said had been logical, coherent, and though he hated to admit it, especially when it came to her statements regarding the throne, wise. She had been clear that she believed...or perhaps she knew, he still believed there was more behind her statement...that there was a far greater danger to Asgard than Thor on its throne and yet later that evening she had proclaimed that Thor should never take that same throne, that not only Asgard, but the universe would be in peril if he did so.

Loki knew he must thrust it all from his mind if he was to get any rest the remainder of the night. Doing what he usually did when he needed to clear his head from intrusive thoughts while he lay in bed, which was a somewhat frequent occurrence for him, he changed position, rolling over onto his other side. The sight that greeted him upon doing so froze the blood in his veins.

Lying there facing him was a still form that he could just make out in the low light of the moon streaming in through the circular window of the cottage's spare bedroom. His own body, his corpse rather, lay there lifeless, his eyes glassy and red, his skin a mottled grayish-white hue which he knew was not merely a trick of the moonlight. Startled, Loki drew back with a sharp intake of breath, a split second from fleeing the bed upon which he and his doppelganger corpse rested before he chose another response. Loki closed his eyes tightly for a few moments, tamping down all thought, clearing his head, knowing that what he had just witnessed could not in any way, shape or form, be reality. He consciously worked to slow his rapidly beating heart to a normal rhythm, taking in a long, languid, deep breath and exhaling it slowly before once again raising his eyelids. He found the space next to him once again empty. Relieved, he positioned himself onto his back and closed his eyes once more.

Frida and Revna worked side by side in the garden outside the cottage in the early morning light. Frida sat on her knees, a cushion under them, as she gripped the undesired weeds that had sprouted with her gnarled, crinkled hands, wrenching them from the dirt. Revna, having that day chosen to don another simple gown of a turquoise color, her reddish-gold hair styled similarly to the day before, assisted in the endeavor at the edge of the adjoining plot.

Loki exited the cottage, searching for his grandmother whom he had, to his dismay, found absent from the cottage at his rising. An expression of relief crossed his face as he spied the two women as he walked from the cottage's entrance towards the garden in which they toiled.

"There is my lazy grandson. It's high time you decided to leave your bed. The sun rose some time ago. I suppose being waited on hand and foot in that grand palace of yours gives you little cause to be industrious." Frida said, feigning annoyance, though from the grin on her face, Loki knew it to be farce. Frida gestured to Revna who rose from her knees to her feet and stepped over to Frida, the old woman taking hold of her short staff that lay beside her on the ground before Revna assisted her to her feet as Loki approached. "It's a beautiful morning. Would you care to accompany me on a stroll?" Frida asked Loki.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" Loki asked, unsure about the proposition as he looked to the aged woman leaning on her staff.

"Of course I'm up to it! I was 'up to it' long before you this morning!" Frida extolled. Loki grinned, unable to do otherwise at the spunk of the ancient lady before him. Extending his arm, Frida took it, hooking hers around it, her staff in her opposite hand.

Loki and Frida made their way along the sea shore, Loki careful to escort her along the more flat and even and less sandy and rocky stretch of ground.

"My apologies for my late rising, Amma. I'm afraid my sleep was not the most restful…" Loki began.

"Ah, yes, it is often so the first night away from home. I was merely chiding you, my boy. Take all the rest you need to finally cease pondering your lost throne and to begin considering the possibilities now open to you." Frida said. Loki realized from her statement that she had no recollection of the events of the night before, though he was not much surprised.

"What possibilities do you speak of?" Loki asked. He couldn't fathom to what she could be referring.

"Many. Asgard and the universe is now open to you and you are free from the weight you have borne these many years awaiting your father's edict, attempting to be whatever you believed he considered 'worthy.'"

"Obviously I failed miserably in that arena." Loki said, looking down at the ground before them as they walked.

"Does a round peg fail for simply being made round when it does not fit into a square hole?" Frida asked. Loki pondered her statement.

"I suppose not. It is simply what it is." Loki answered.

"And the same is true of you as well. If that round peg is to fit, the hole must be made round as well. It is not for you to find your place, it is for you to make it." Frida counseled. Again, Loki quietly considered her words. "But let us speak of other things. You denied at your arrival yesterday that you are plagued by those aspiring for a place in your heart. Is there perhaps someone that has already taken that place?" Frida asked. Loki shook his head, gazing ahead of him.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no. I haven't been particularly seeking to fill the vacancy. I've had my adventures I suppose you could say, but to borrow your metaphor, I seem to be a square hole and have thus far only encountered round pegs. My mind has been absorbed by other, more pressing concerns." Loki answered.

"Ah well, you are young yet. There is still much time. You will know her when fate puts her in your path."

"I suppose it's my brother that you should be asking that question. He will eventually be expected to find a queen, to beget heirs...though there is one that has been vying for that place for quite some time, though I fear Thor is blind to it, as he seems to be to many things."

"Which is exactly why he will need you. Often the power of the throne does not rest upon it, but behind it." Frida said. Loki's expression darkened as he looked once more to the ground before him as they walked.

"I have spent enough of my life obfuscated." Loki said darkly. Frida looked to him and his stony expression.

"What of Revna?" Frida asked.

"What of her?" Loki replied, unsure of the meaning behind his grandmother's question, then quickly latching onto it. "Oh...she seems pleasant enough I suppose..if on the meek side...simple..."

"That is only due to a lack of familiarity and the fact she's been on her own for some time. Your mother appeared a meek and simple girl as well at one time. Her father fought alongside yours in many battles. He played a role in the peace with Jotunheim. He was among the unfortunate who fell at the Battle of Harridan. Her mother, unable to accept his death and her grief, took her own life not long after."

"Thor and I were at Harridan. It was a glorious victory. It was celebrated for weeks." Loki informed her.

"It would be best if you did not mention that fact in her presence." Frida said.

"Yes, of course." said Loki. Frida came to a stop, Loki alongside her. Slightly hunching over more so than usual, Frida put a hand lightly to her chest. Loki looked to her with concern.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes….yes….just a flutter. That's all. I'm fine."

"Are you certain?" Loki asked, noticing that her face appeared more pale, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead though the early morning temperature was comfortably cool.

"I'll be quite alright. We should return." Frida said as Loki and she turned. Leaning more heavily on her staff, her breathing heavier and audible, Loki having moved his arm around her in support, the two slowly made their way back to the cottage visible in the distance.

Inside the cottage, Loki stood in the front room appearing anxious and worried as Revna exited Frida's bedroom, closing the door behind her and approached Loki.

"How is she?"

"I believe she will be well. It was only a minor episode."

"Does she have many such episodes?"

"It is to be expected. Her heart has beat for over five millennia now. I was just preparing the morning meal if you're hungry." Revna informed him.

"Yes….thank you." Loki answered, though he still did not find himself to have much of an appetite, especially at the moment. Revna turned towards the arched stone doorway into the small dining room, Loki following.

Loki sat in the same place he had been seated the evening before as Revna placed another plateful of food in front of him. Carrying her own in her other hand, she made her way to the place across from him where Frida had previously sat. Both sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment, looking down at their plates before Loki took a utensil in hand, Revna doing so as well as if following his lead.

"My grandmother has told me that your father served under my own, that he gave his life at Harridan. I was at Harridan along with my brother."

"Yes…did you know him?" Revna asked.

"I'm afraid not, not personally. Asgard is in his debt for his sacrifice, and yours as well."

"He was a good man and a good father." Revna said, sadness in her voice. Both sat silently again for a few moments, each taking a few mouthfuls of the food from their plates.

"So how is it that you came to serve my grandmother?" Loki asked, changing the subject.

"After the death of my father and mother, I settled nearby. It seemed a peaceful place. Your mother sought me out actually, at first just to check in with her from time to time, but as time went on, it was evident she needed more assistance. I'm not sure what I'll do after-" Revna said before cutting herself off, though Loki knew what she had been about to say.

"I'm sure there are others in need of such help." Loki assured her.

"Yes, I'm sure there are." Revna answered before going silent again for another moment. "You did not rest easy last night?"

"No, unfortunately. Neither did she, I'm afraid."

"I should have warned you." Revna said looking down. "I had hoped perhaps with your presence…she often has visions, nightmares. When she does so, she unknowingly manifests aspects of them. They are harmless, mere illusion, but still disconcerting. It is why though I am concerned for her when she is alone, I now don't often remain here and return to my own dwelling for the night."

"That explains much." Loki said, the lingering questions concerning what he had experienced the night before now answered. "How long since it started?"

"A few months now, not overly long." Revna answered.

"She spoke of Jotunheim…"

"Yes, she has done so quite frequently as of late. I'm not sure why. She does not recall that which she speaks of or why during her episodes when asked about them later." Revna explained. "Before your arrival she spoke of you quite often as well. She has been quite concerned for you. She became more so after your mother's visit, when she told her of your father's decision."

"I suppose I should be glad someone is." Loki said, more to himself than to Revna as he looked down at his plate, a few more morsels of food remaining.

"If what you say of your brother is true, why is it that your father chose him? My father used to speak of your father and his wisdom and judgement."

"I am at a loss myself. I received no explanation. However, it was clear to me since we were children that Thor was favored between the two of us. I suppose there is nothing for me to do now but learn to accept his verdict, do as my grandmother has advised and find my own place, though I haven't the slightest clue what that place would or should be. I have no desire to continue to exist in the darkness and chill of my brother's great shadow."

"Perhaps your father has never had the opportunity to see what it is you see in him. If he were to do so….." Revna said. Loki looked up from his plate and across the table at the woman seated across from him.

"You may be right. Even if it changes nothing, it would be satisfying for all to finally see the faults of he they view as the epitome of perfection…to take the wind out of his sails. His hubris seems to know no bounds, especially at the current moment."

"I suppose it would only be a matter of knowing which button to push. If you know him better than he knows himself as you claim, that should not be difficult." Revna said. Loki continued to look to her, shocked, though not expressing it openly, at her words. Perhaps she was more than the simple, meek and mild nymph he had originally assumed her to be.

"No...I don't suppose it would be." Loki responded, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.