Lucius had admired the armour since Odin unveiled it, but Thor's explanation of the binding finally answered the practical question of how he was supposed to carry it. Once the Uru recognised his blood and magic, he could exchange his clothing for armour in the blink of an eye, then summon whichever weapon suited the occasion. Asgardians treated the convenience as ordinary. Lucius, who had spent most of his life dressing without divine assistance, considered it one of their better achievements.
He had scarcely reclaimed his seat when Thor called across the feast.
"Brother, don the armour. Let us witness your might in it."
The excitement in Thor's face attracted several nearby warriors before Lucius could answer. Their drinking horns lowered one after another, and conversation around the open armour case thinned into expectation.
Lucius glanced towards the throne. Odin answered with a measured nod, while Frigga carried enough amusement to suggest that she knew exactly what the armour would do to the room.
"It appears I have been volunteered."
He crossed to the case, with Thor abandoning his own drink to follow. The prince arrived at Lucius's shoulder already pointing towards the separated pieces.
"Feed them your blood, then channel your magic into each one. Do both while the metal remains receptive, and they shall bind themselves to your essence."
Lucius extended his left hand over the case. Before opening his palm, he remembered another supposedly simple binding, one that had required three drops of blood and neglected to account for Rapid Healing closing the cut before he could bleed. He had butchered his arm, bound Bob, and received a flood of knowledge painful enough to turn a small ceremony into a lesson in pain receptors.
That had been near the beginning, when a stubborn wound and a magical book could still frighten him.
He chuckled, and a deep cut opened across his palm.
Blood struck the breastplate first, spread along the fitted seams, and disappeared before any of it reached the bottom of the case. The helm accepted the next stream just as quickly. Lucius moved his hand over the gauntlets, greaves, Duskreaver, and Dreadspire until every piece had tasted him, then pressed Cosmic Energy into the Uru.
Crimson light answered beneath his hand. It travelled from rune to rune in branching lines, crossing the armour piece by piece until the entire case glowed against the gold of the throne hall. The metal continued drinking while Lucius supplied more energy, greedy without being difficult, and vanished the instant the binding settled.
The empty case earned a pleased rumble from the watching warriors.
Thor closed a hand around Lucius's shoulder. "They know you now, so call the armour, brother."
Lucius healed his palm and reached for the new presence waiting at the edge of his awareness. He found three distinct answers there, each close enough to thought that neither distance nor a servant would ever be necessary again.
He called the armour first, and the Uru answered at once.
Pieces closed around his body in a single violent motion, plates adjusting across his frame before crimson light sealed the joints between them. The skull-shaped faceplate locked into place as horns swept back from his temples, and Duskreaver dropped into his waiting hand with its crescent blade already awake in red. A ragged black cloak settled from his shoulders a heartbeat later.
The figure on the armour stand had been ominous. Once it moved, the resemblance to ceremonial equipment disappeared.
Frigga drew a quiet breath. Volstagg forgot to finish whatever he had been saying, and the warriors who had watched him fought in the palace watched with the professional attention normally reserved for an enemy entering weapon range. Only Odin remained unchanged, having already inspected every piece before presenting it.
Thor cleared his throat, although the sound gained him no protection from the red gaze behind the faceplate.
"You look mighty, brother. Very mighty indeed." His eyes travelled from the horns to the skull over Lucius's chest. "I cannot claim that you look heroic."
Several warriors nodded before catching themselves. Volstagg, whose agreement had been particularly enthusiastic, attempted to disguise the movement by drinking.
Lucius turned his helm towards Thor.
Mjolnir shifted in the prince's hand. It was not raised, but Thor clearly did not know how Lucius answered criticism aimed at his possessions.
Duskreaver vanished before the tension became interesting. Dreadspire replaced it, the staff's horned skull burning above Lucius's gauntlet as he rose several feet from the floor. Power travelled through its three runic paths and returned across his armour, turning every seam crimson while the torn edges of his cloak stirred in the empty air.
"Armour cannot define the valour of its wearer, Thor." Odin's voice crossed the hall before Lucius could defend his fashion sense in murder weapons. "Valhalla is filled with brave souls, each of whom carried weapons and wore armour according to their own taste. A Champion is judged by his actions, not by whether his helm pleases you."
Thor bowed his head, though his gaze remained fixed upon the skulls.
Odin regarded Lucius for a moment longer. "I will concede that this design possesses an unusually ominous character."
The faceplate withdrew into the helm, revealing Lucius's grin beneath the curving horns.
"Thank you, Your Highness. I am literally in love with it."
One of the palace warriors struck his fist against his breastplate. The cheer began around him, spread through those who had watched Lucius fight, and gathered the rest of the chamber before good judgment could intervene.
Thor accepted defeat with a shrug, then raised Mjolnir above the drinking horns.
"For Asgard!"
Lucius lifted Dreadspire, and the crimson runes flared above the crowd.
-
Thor left the throne hall while the fashion show was still finding new victims.
Lucius had discovered that he could dismiss the faceplate without removing the helm, which pleased him enough to repeat the transformation whenever a warrior looked away. Seven days of feasting had reduced the audience's standards, and each reappearance of the horned skull drew more laughter than the last. Thor remained convinced that a Champion ought to resemble the people he intended to defend rather than the creatures lurking in their nightmares, but Odin's judgment had been sound. Lucius's actions had already answered the more important question.
--
The last day of the feast left the adjoining passages quieter than usual. Music and shouted boasts followed Thor through the first archway, faded beyond the royal chambers, and disappeared entirely when the stairs carried him beneath the palace.
Only a week earlier, he had descended those same stairs with Mjolnir ready and prisoners loose throughout the dungeon. Loki had remained behind his damaged barrier while every other captive seized the chance to attempt to flee or wreak havoc. Thor had tested the barrier and left him there on Odin's command.
Now he returned, for every loyal person in Asgard would refuse what he needed.
The guards outside Loki's ward bowed and withdrew at Thor's order, though neither looked comfortable leaving the brothers without witnesses. Loki observed their departure over the top of the book Frigga had given him. The barrier no longer flickered, but scars from the prison riot remained across the floor beyond it.
"Have you come to inspect Father's repairs, or does he require further confirmation that I am still imprisoned?"
Thor stopped outside the gold light. He had arranged several openings during the walk, each one more dignified than the truth, but none survived Loki's waiting expression.
"I need your help."
The book lowered by an inch. Loki searched Thor's face, perhaps expecting the request to reveal itself as a joke, and eventually closed one finger between the pages to preserve his place.
"That sounds unfortunate for you."
"Father has sentenced Jane to remain in Asgard for the rest of her natural life. Heimdall will not open the Bifrost for her; no shipmaster will defy the throne."
Loki's attention sharpened as the pieces fell into place. "After consulting every loyal servant in the realm, you came beneath the palace to find the one man forbidden from leaving his room."
"You know more paths into and out of Asgard than anyone alive. Most of them were discovered while Father tried to prevent you from using them."
"That was perilously close to praise. You should rest before the condition worsens."
Thor came nearer to the barrier. "Will you help me take her out of Asgard?"
Loki reopened the book. His eyes found the page, although they did not move across it.
"No, I will not."
"You have not even considered it."
"I considered the part where you intend to steal the mortal carrying the Aether, smuggle her through a palace under guard, evade Heimdall, and disobey Odin so thoroughly that our previous disagreements begin to resemble affectionate debate." Loki turned a page he had not read. "Your plan then arrives at my cell and becomes mysteriously incomplete."
"I came in earnestness, brother."
"You came with a desire, Thor. Desires become plans after someone performs the unpleasant work."
The criticism sounded uncomfortably similar to something Lucius had told him before the feast. Thor let it pass and began with the attack, because Loki had heard only whatever scraps the guards allowed to travel through the ward.
He described the Dark Elf ships crossing Asgard's defences unseen, Kurse breaking out of the dungeon, and the city's shield failing while Malekith's forces struck the palace. Loki interrupted twice to correct the order of events from the noises he remembered, then fell silent when Thor explained why Malekith had come. His thumb stopped against the page.
"He wants the Aether inside Jane; it belongs to him. He reached the Queen's chamber while searching for her."
"Mother was there?"
Thor kept his answer plain. "She had hidden Jane and remained behind to deceive him."
Loki set the book across his knee. The indifference had left his posture so completely that pretending otherwise would have embarrassed them both.
"Tell me what happened. All of it."
"Our mother had met Malekith with a blade and managed to cut his face before Kurse overwhelmed her. She created an illusion of Jane convincing enough to fool the Dark Elf until he reached through it, buying time without knowing whether anyone would arrive to use it. "
By the time Thor and Odin understood where the attack had gone, Kurse already had one hand around her throat.
Loki's fingers tightened against the edges of the book. "How did she escape him?"
"Lucius reached the chamber first. He forced Kurse's hand open and returned Mother's blade to her. She is safe now, and the healers have repaired the damage."
The cover closed under Loki's hands with considerably more care than Thor expected from the tension in them. He crossed the cell and placed the book on the narrow table, aligning it with the edge before turning around.
"Where are Malekith and Kurse?"
"They escaped. I struck Malekith with Mjolnir, but Kurse reached him before the hammer returned and carried him onto one of their vessels."
Loki looked past Thor into the empty ward. During the feast, the guards had argued over whether Lucius held Kurse with one hand or tore both arms from him; Thor had heard versions in which Frigga killed twenty Dark Elves before breakfast. None of those stories would have carried the pressure of Kurse's fingers around her throat into this cell.
When Loki faced him again, his voice had lost its earlier laziness. "The enemy who nearly murdered Mother remains free, and Father has chosen to keep the object of his search inside our home."
"That is why Jane must leave before Malekith returns."
"It is one reason." Loki paced to the far wall, turned, and came back without looking at the book. "What did Father give your new brother for succeeding where both of you failed? The guards cannot agree whether Lucius was adopted, crowned, or granted ownership of the eastern district."
"He was named Champion of Asgard. Father also gave him a residence, armour forged of Uru, and two weapons."
"A generous reward, by his standards."
"The weapons are magnificent. Duskreaver carries Lucius's power as though it were part of him, while Dreadspire improves the shape of his magic without creating any of its own." Thor hesitated, remembering the red eyes turning towards him. "Yet the armour is dreadful."
Loki's mouth bent at one corner. "Dreadful enough to trouble the mighty Thor?"
"It has horns above the helm, skulls upon the shoulders and legs, another skull across the chest, red eyes, red runes, and a cloak that appears to have survived several murders. Even Father admitted it looked ominous."
"Lucius wore black and threatened people during both of our previous meetings. I am surprised the dwarves found room for interpretation."
Thor pointed through the barrier at him. "Look at your own armour. You are a lying, cheating, scheming bastard of a traitor, yet even yours looks more peaceful than his."
For once, Loki possessed no immediate answer. His brows rose while Thor's description accumulated, then remained there after the traitor brought the list to its conclusion.
"Are you entirely certain," Loki asked at last, "that this is how one should address the person whose help one requires?"
"Was any of it untrue?"
"Truth is not usually your weapon of choice. I might admire the improvement if you had selected another target."
The exchange loosened something in Thor's chest, though Loki's glance towards Frigga's book prevented the relief from lasting. Thor rested Mjolnir against the floor and waited while his brother studied the barrier, the corridor beyond it, and whatever routes only he could see from a locked room.
"Removing Jane requires three separate successes," Loki began. "You must take her from a guarded chamber without raising an alarm, cross a palace full of warriors celebrating within shouting distance of one another, and leave Asgard before Heimdall or Odin understands what has happened. I can solve the first two. The third remains intent rather than method."
"Then you will help?"
Loki did not answer. His attention remained on the corridor while his hands were clasped behind him.
Thor nearly pressed him, then remembered the message he had carried through seven days of excuses.
"Lucius told me to mention that this is an opportunity. Yet I do not get what he means."
Loki's finger stilled against his sleeve.
Loki turned his head slowly. "Those were his words?"
"He told me that if someone decided to free a prisoner, I should make certain you knew this was the opportunity. He appeared annoyingly confident that you would understand."
"Confidence becomes much easier when one refuses to explain anything." Loki approached the barrier until its gold light divided his face. "Did he offer his assistance?"
"He offered the message."
"Naturally, he kept his own hands clean."
Thor waited again, this time without mistaking silence for refusal. Loki had escaped Asgardian notice as a child, crossed sealed passages as a prince, and betrayed the realm through routes its guards still had not found. If there was a way to move Jane beyond Odin's reach, the man behind the barrier would either know it or invent it out of professional spite.
Loki looked once towards Frigga's book, then back to his brother.
"I will help you. Now tell me exactly where they are keeping Jane."