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Asgardians, as a rule, were not the most discreet of conversationalists. If something was worth discussing, it was worth discussing in a carrying voice over a tankard of ale (which invariably ended up shattered on the floor, if the feast hall was doing its job right). As such, there was a lot for Fandral to overhear as he made his way through The King's Spear to the more secluded table that was always set aside for the Crown Prince and his friends. 

"He's not nearly large enough to be all Frost Giant, so whose bastard do you reckon he is? His or hers?"

"Got to be hers, right? She was with child at the end of the war, everyone knows that."

"Naw, Odin's no fool. He wouldn't make him a prince if he wasn't his son."

"Well they already had a proper son, so maybe he saw no harm in legitimizing a bastard who would never rule anyway."

"You shouldn't impugn the honor of our queen so!"

"Who said anything about her honor? She wouldn't have had to be willing."

That brought an uneasy silence for a moment, before someone else interjected.

"The lot of you are talking nonsense. We know how much Loki loves his tricks. That's all this is. He can't really be a Frost Giant, all or part."

"But where's the joke this time? He does have a queer sense of humor, that one, but what's funny about sending the whole realm into an uproar of speculation when it only looks bad for him?" 

"I figure it's all part of a plot. Think of it. The Frost Giants took the real second prince and put one of their own in his place. They probably did it recently. Loki's always going off where he shouldn't. My cousin worked in the palace when the princes were lads and he told me. He'd have been easy to capture. How else do you explain what happened at Prince Thor's coronation?"

"Don't be an idiot. You think the king and queen wouldn't have noticed a Frost Giant changeling in place of their son?"

"Aye, and those brutes couldn't have pulled that one over on all of us when we have the Gatekeeper and Hlidskjalf."

"You shouldn't underestimate them; they gave us a war that lasted decades, after all. Who knows what strange magics they have at their disposal."

Fandral took his usual seat, which faced away from the rest of the hall. One of the maids was quick to supply him with food and drink, an eager gleam in her eye. He thanked her and picked up his knife and fork, at which her face fell into a pout and she left to attend to other patrons with a swish of skirts. 

This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? For Asgard to know the truth about its second prince? That was why he'd tweaked the transporter's destination by a few miles. If enough people saw, then rumors would spread, and the Allfather would have no choice but to give his people an explanation that was long overdue. 

Hogun was next to reach The King's Spear. It was always hard to tell with him, but he looked troubled as he slid into his usual seat. He glanced at Fandral, then over his shoulder at the nearest occupied table, where a debate like the one Fandral had passed by was still going strong. The maid returned with Hogun's meal, her back firmly to Fandral. He grimaced, but didn't feel like smoothing things over with her at the moment.

Not one but three maids accompanied Volstagg when he arrived, each carrying a platter of steaming food. He was every establishment's favorite customer. He was personal friends with all of the cooks, gave them advance notice of his arrival, and complimented them well when he left. They were always ready for him. He thanked the girls heartily when they laid it all out on the table, but still didn't seem quite his usual cheery self. 

After the maids had departed, he speared a sausage on his fork and leaned closer. "Are they all talking about what I think they're talking about?" 

"The origins of our dear prince?" said Fandral. He took a swig from his tankard. "That they are."

"How did they find out?"

"The second transporter landed in a crowded square," said Hogun.

The corners of Volstagg's mustache drooped. "By the Norns," he said. "That's not good."

A commotion broke out near the entrance then, and the talk grew louder and more excited.

"That armor—is she...?"

"Did other Valkyrior survive, or is it just her?"

Fandral turned around in his seat. The dark-skinned warrior from the horrid ship on Sakaar had just walked in beside Sif. She'd already looked beautiful before, but she was absolutely stunning in Valkyrie blue and white. Sif was glaring at some of the chattering patrons, but the Valkyrie had the same expression of bored irritation she'd worn on the longship to the palace.

"This can't be a coincidence," one man was saying. "She reappears the same day we learn of the Frost Giant posing as our prince?" 

"You're right!" said a woman sitting near him. "She was even in the square with him!"

"Are you here to foil Jotunheim's plot?" someone called at the Valkyrie.

She scowled. "What I'm here for is a bloody drink. Do they have any of those in this place, or do they only serve bullshit gossip?" She moved towards the polished bar.

"Wait, don't you want to sit with us?" said Sif.

"I came to drink, not get chummy," said the Valkyrie without looking back at her.

Sif deflated a little but headed for the table anyway.

"So," said Fandral. "The lovely Valkyrie. Brunnhilde, did you call her? What do you reckon my chances are?"

"Of getting a hand or something else lopped off?" said Sif. "Very high, I would say."

Fandral put a hand to his chest as though deeply wounded. "Why, Sif," he said in mock reproach, "I would've thought I could count on a little support from my dear friend!"

She rolled her eyes. "When have I ever helped you seduce anyone? And even if I did, it is exactly because I'm your dear friend that I'm telling you true. You're not her type."

"Don't be ridiculous," he laughed. "I'm everyone's type." He frowned, his tankard pausing halfway to his face. "Wait, how would you know what her type is when we both only met her a few hours ago?"

Sif's cheeks went pink and she sank an inch or so in her seat. "Because I forgot to knock," she ground out. Volstagg chortled around a leg of lamb, and she shot him and Fandral each a stern look. "But it's none of my affair, let alone yours. Leave off."

A maid brought her food, and she thanked her and began to eat. Every other bite or so, she'd have a glare for someone else at a nearby table, but it took about five or six before she finally gave voice to her irritation. "Can you believe what they're saying? To suggest such things about our king and queen!" 

Perhaps if our king and queen didn't want such things suggested about them, they might've told their people the truth, Fandral thought. 

"They could be more polite," said Volstagg with a distasteful glance towards the recipients of Sif's glares. "But you must admit, it is a strange circumstance, and not one any of us expected."

"You could say that," said Fandral.

"What happened when your transporter reached Asgard?" said Hogun, looking from Sif to Fandral and back.

"The people in the square were shocked and confused," said Sif. "Loki could barely stand, and Brunnhilde and I helped him—" 

"Did his skin not burn you when you touched it?" Volstagg interrupted. "Or were you careful to avoid it?"

"It didn't burn," said Sif. "Maybe it...but no." She trailed off, glancing over at Brunnhilde with a frown and a bit of a wrinkled nose. "I suppose it only burns when they want it to." She waved a hand. "Thor caught up to us and flew off with him to the palace." Her expression grew very cross. "I would think that the people would have remembered that part before they started spreading all these rumors about how he must be some Jotun spy."

"Can we be certain he's not?" said Fandral from behind his tankard. The other three stared at him. 

"Fandral, don't be absurd," said Sif. "You heard Thor on Sakaar. Loki's adopted, that's all."

"And that's not absurd?" said Fandral. "Why would the Allfather want to raise one of them as his son after what they did to Asgard?"

"Loki didn't do any of that," said Volstagg. "He was a baby."

"Yes, and now he's an adult Frost Giant, much like the ones who sneaked into Gladsheim and nearly made off with the Casket of Ancient Winters."

"It is difficult to imagine them making it so far without help," said Hogun slowly. "I'm not Asgardian, and my allegiance is to my realm first. Perhaps it is the same for Loki, except that where Vanaheim and Asgard are the closest of allies, Asgard and Jotunheim would need little prodding to resume hostilities."

Sif shook her head. "I spoke with Thor at the palace before I came here. He said the first time he lived through this, it nearly destroyed Loki to learn the truth of his heritage. One of Thor's greatest concerns in altering the course of time was to see that Loki felt the support of his family when it came out so that he could make peace with it. His loyalty is still to Asgard, no matter where he comes from."

"Thor said Loki was adopted, did he?" said Volstagg. "I wonder what happened to the other baby."

"What other baby?" said Hogun.

"Sometimes I forget how many centuries I have on you lot," said Volstagg. "The Aesir-Jotnar war happened when I was a lad. I remember well the final year year of it, when Asgard was anticipating the arrival of the second royal child. There were betting pools at every mead hall whether we would have a prince or a princess. I even saw Queen Frigga in the grand banquet hall at the palace a few times. She was radiantly happy and definitely pregnant, and little Thor kept toddling around faster than his nursemaids could catch him, telling everyone that he was going to be a big brother." He smiled fondly at the thought, but it quickly slipped and his brow furrowed. "I'd almost prefer to believe this nonsense they're all spouting about him being a bastard, because if he isn't, then what happened to the baby Asgard was waiting for?"

Volstagg being the only member of their group with children of his own, Fandral wasn't surprised his thoughts would tend in that direction, and it was a chilling question. Hogun must've been thinking the same thing, for he said, gravely, "A royal infant doesn't just disappear."

None of this was what Fandral wanted to discuss. "Is none of you concerned about what this could all mean?"

"All of what?" said Volstagg, now slathering a thick slice of bread with preserves.

Fandral raised his thumb. "Frost Giants successfully infiltrate the Vault." He put up his index finger. "Loki is revealed to be a Frost Giant." Middle finger. "Thor, contrary to everything he has ever said, doesn't care about his ruined coronation and begins to speak of making an ally of Jotunheim." Ring finger. "And the person who assured us all that Thor is still himself, despite being so changed? Loki."

"He said it himself," said Hogun, voice low. "'What better way to engineer Ragnarok than by replacing or taking control of the Crown Prince?'" 

"Exactly!" said Fandral, slapping the table. "Who else do we know with the skills to do such a thing?"

"Come now, you two can't really think Loki wants to bring about Ragnarok!" said Volstagg. "Why would he have gone with Thor on missions to gain allies and thwart the plans of our enemies if that was what he wanted?"

Hogun frowned.

"Loki hasn't fiddled with Thor's mind," said Sif. Where Volstagg spoke with a slight hesitancy, as though he wasn't fully convinced of what he was saying, Sif's tone was entirely flat. "Are you suggesting that Thor's entire account of living through the coming years and returning to the present is a fiction of Loki's making? How do you explain his detailed knowledge of so many mortals, which has proven to be true? Or of Sakaar, to which none of us had ever traveled? Of the Dark Elves still alive and awaiting the right advantage to attack? Surely there are simpler lies to tell than this."

"I'm only suggesting it," said Fandral. "I can't be sure of anything, but don't you think it's possible? At least as possible as, oh, time travel?"

"No," said Sif, folding her arms. "Thor trusts Loki, and I trust Thor. Besides, you saw the same thing I did in the healing room. Whether he shares blood with them or not, our king and queen see him as their own, and by law the king is free to choose his heirs."

"But they lied to us!" said Fandral, starting to lose patience. "They lied to all of Asgard. Don't you think we deserve to know to whom we swear our oaths? To what we swear them? I doubt many would have been so eager to do it had they known that not only was he not Odin's blood, but a Frost Giant."

"Now, Fandral, can you blame them?" said Volstagg in the voice of a disappointed father delivering a gentle but well-deserved scolding, which Fandral did not appreciate. "If I thought one of my children was to have a reception like this for something he couldn't help, perhaps I would have kept it secret too."

"We swore our oaths to a prince of Asgard," said Sif. "To the boy we grew up with. Our friend."

"Yes," said Fandral, "the boy who takes great delight in turning us into animals to humiliate us, and who cut off your hair out of spite. A faithful friend indeed."

"Trivial things," said Sif, and Fandral almost thought he'd misheard. He well remembered Sif's feelings of betrayal and devastation when she discovered her missing hair. She had not thought it trivial then. The thrashing she'd given Loki on the training grounds in retribution had certainly not been trivial either—in fact, it had been what finally persuaded the swordmaster to take her on as a proper student. "He's also risked his life to save ours. He just did it again to save Thor's, and he endured torture to protect Asgard!" 

"She's right," said Volstagg, "I think the prince has earned better than to be the subject of backbiting from people so close to him. These wild rumors are bad enough. I hope the Allfather will put them to rest at the banquet tomorrow."

Fandral gritted his teeth. He looked to Hogun for support. The Vanr shook his head. Doubt niggled at the back of Fandral's mind, but he was too frustrated with the situation to pay it much heed. How were they not more disturbed by what had been hidden from them? He stood up from his seat, heedless of what remained of his meal, and forced a smile. "Well then, if you'll all excuse me, there's a certain mortal who I'm sure would love to hear of my feats of bravery and swordsmanship on Sakaar."

He left before they could say anything else. On the way out, he spotted Brunnhilde at the bar, downing an entire bottle of the establishment's signature voda. He briefly considered ignoring Sif's advice about her, but then he saw that the Dragonfang was out of its sheath, buried point down in the surface of the bar. Everyone but the barman was giving her a wide berth and the tables nearest to her seemed strangely quiet. Fandral decided to cut his losses.