Chapter 9 – The reunion
Six months have passed, the snow lies thick on the green plains stretching out at the top of the cliffs, but on the beach where the ever roaring waves still crash and wash, the snow has no foothold. Loki’s hand is intwined in Sigyn’s, as if he’s still reluctant to let her go for even a moment. Vali is getting a real hang of wolf life by now, mainly due to the excellent guidance of older brother Fenrir. Nari has recovered quite well too, although being eaten by your brother is a trauma, it’s not exactly strange for a child of Loki’s – or even for an Asgardian, to be fair. With the help of Sleipnir he can even keep up with Vali and Fenrir, and the four of them run up and down the beach chasing each other. They might be a bit too old to play like this, but, of course, it was the Asgardians who thought throwing weapons at Baldur was the peak of entertainment, so one cannot really blame them. What is the point of coming back to life if you cannot have a little fun?
Behind them, on the narrow pathway down the cliffs come Ian and Max. The beach is deserted by all but the little party of misfits, it being an unusually stormy and cold day. Not even the seagulls have dared venture out.
“So, how’s the head?” Sigyn asks when the two humans make it all the way down to the beach.
“Clear scans, and symptom free,” Ian says, lightly knocking his knuckles to his temple. Sigyn raises an eyebrow.
“He’s fine,” Max translates. Loki nods as if he totally understood Ian’s answer. Both the men smile. They told their families they were going on a second honeymoon, to celebrate the clear scans, but after having disappeared for almost two months last time they were at this beach, they neglected to tell their families exactly where they were going – there was no need to worry them. Out of nowhere a giant wave erupts in the middle of the sea.
“Ah, just in time,” Sigyn says. Loki cracks a smile.
“I don’t believe you two have met the last member of the family?” Loki adds mischievously. The wave moves closer and closer to the shore, as if aimed directly at them. It crashes down just a few meters out, drenching them all in sea water. When the water has finally cleared the air, and human eyes can see again, Ian and Max stare in bewilderment at the newcomer: A giant snake, it’s body as thick as the Round Tower in Denmark, it’s eyes the size of cars, and it’s fangs… like… like two meter long broadswords, all lined up side by side, filling the whole of the mouth of the beast. And next to it, soaking wet and still half dead, Hel, barely as tall as one of its teeth.
“Hii,” Max tries hesitantly. They had read up on their new friends before coming here again, but reading about Jormungandr and seeing him in real life, those were two quite different things. Jormungandr gives a happy splash in the sea as a greeting, and then two wolves – one giant, and one more average sized – jump up and latch onto him. With a glint in his eye unmistakably Loki-like, he pretends to writher in pain as he tries to throw off his brothers. The Loki-clan have their fair share of troubles, their fair share of daddy-issues, but one cannot deny that together, they are not only stronger, they are happier. True, Loki will never be the perfect father, but Sigyn is an excellent mother, and at least that is something. And, though by no standards the perfect husband either, both Ian and Max can agree that he might just be the perfect man for Sigyn at least.
“So,” Loki starts. “Have I ever told you about the time Jor here bested Thor?” Max and Ian look at each other knowingly. They did read up on the family and the old myths, so they do know about the time Thor was challenged to lift Jormungandr, disguised as a simple house cat, off the floor, and how one paw always remained firmly planted no matter what he did. It is one thing though, to have read about a story, it is quite another to hear it told from Loki himself.
“No,” they say in unison. Sigyn laughs softly. What more could she ask for than this? The whole family together, their new friends safe and happy, and Loki back to his old, bragging self.
It doesn’t take long till Loki has told them all about Thor’s pilgrimage to get married to the Jotun Thyrm and how, in Utgard, they had to pass the three tests where Loki himself competed against fire about who could eat the fastest – and just barely lost. A few stories in, even Ian has to beg to be excused from hearing anymore.
“There’s plenty of time,” he assures Loki. “We don’t need to hear every story all at once.” For a while now, both Ian and Max have been eyeing Jormungandr and the other Lokisons. Nari, with the help of Fenrir, will climb onto Jormungandr’s nose, and Jormungandr will rise high up in the air, so high, had it not been for the mist created by the constant dampness and water splashes that seems to be a steady feature with Jormungandr, a human might have been able to spot them. Once up there, Jormungandr will tilt his head forward, and Nari will slide right off, falling for meters and meters, before landing with a giant splash in the water. What could ever have been more tempting to two extreme sport lovers than to dive off the nose of Jormungandr? Not even Sigyn, the voice of reason, is hard to convince, as long as Jormungandr keeps in mind that humans are more fragile than gods and promises not to go too high up. That warning is soon forgotten though, and a competition ensues between Ian and Max on one side, and Nari on the other side, about who will dare go the highest. Jormungandr, luckily, is excellent at moving just right to create the perfect waves, so even though they go higher and higher up, the water they land in is never actually that far down – and the waves wash them ashore again before they can drown.
“Did I ever tell you the story,” Loki says quietly while Vali and Sleipnir are busy racing and Hel and Fenrir are busy judging the competitions. “About the underrated, forgotten goddess, who singlehandedly brough Odin to his knees?” Sigyn smiles.
“No,” she replies. “I think not.”
“Well,” Loki starts. “Imagine, if you will, a goddess stronger than Thor himself, fiercer than Frigg on her worst day, a heart more beautiful that Siff on her best.” He pulls her in close till her head is rested on his shoulder. “Wiser than Odin and Mirmir together, and fairer than Freya on any day.” He kisses the top of her head. “Truly, the best of them all.”
