Chapter 26
The Asgard Universe - The Twins of Fate Saga - Summary/Content Note
[Timeline: 5 year timeskip.]
The clang of steel rang out in the courtyard, quick and sharp.
Varian lunged with his practice sword, eyes blazing, his stance a mirror of his father’s stubbornness. Across from him, Liv didn’t block head-on, she sidestepped with a sly grin, the practice blade darting in like a snake. The 11-year-old siblings moved faster than most grown warriors, circling, testing, taunting.
From the balcony above, Gwen leaned on the carved railing, half-proud, half-exasperated. “You’re supposed to be sparring,” she called, “not trying to take each other’s heads off.”
“They are sparring,” Loki replied from her side, though his smirk betrayed no concern. His arms folded over his chest, eyes glinting with mischief as sharp as his children’s. “They fight like Asgardians now.”
Liv’s blade clipped Varian’s wrist. He yelped, then stubbornly pressed on instead of yielding.
“Like Lokis, more like,” Gwen muttered, but she couldn’t help her smile. She picks up Maelis, their four-year-old daughter, to let her see her siblings over the railing.
Before the match could go further, a distant horn sounded—long, solemn, echoing through the golden spires. The children froze, eyes darting toward the sound.
“That’s the Allfather’s summons,” Loki said, and his voice lost the playful edge.
Varian lowered his sword, still catching his breath. “Another decree?”
Liv’s gaze flicked to her parents, sharp and knowing. “Or trouble.”
Gwen felt the shift, the weight of five years pressing down all at once. Whatever Odin wanted today, it would not be small, and this time, the twins were old enough to be pulled into the storm.
Loki exhales through his nose, his fingers twitching as if already anticipating a battle. But when he speaks, it's deceptively light.
"Trouble? For us? Never." He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "Come then, little serpents. Let’s see what fresh chaos the Norns have woven for our house today."
He offers Gwen his arm, the other hand briefly ruffling Maelis' hair before they descend toward the throne room. The twins fall into step behind them, Liv already analyzing exits and Varian bouncing on his toes like he hopes for a fight. Maelis, blissfully oblivious, chews on her tiny braid and hums.
Odin's expression when they arrive is grim. The courtiers part like water around them—whispers rising like poison in their wake. "...Frost Giant blood..." "...mortal weakness..." "...should never have been named heirs—" Loki’s magic lashes out without thought; an illusion of snarling wolves sends the gossips stumbling back in terror. Gwen doesn’t even blink.
"Father," Loki drawls, "you summoned us with all the subtlety of Thor at a feast."
Odin ignores the jab. "War brews in Jotunheim," he says simply. "...And Laufey demands an audience with your children."
Gwen's eyes go wide and she looks to Loki, who looks angry and confused.
“Laufey is dead. I killed him years ago.”
“He is alive and has been quietly living in Jotunheim,” Odin answers.
“And you didn’t tell me?” Loki raises his voice, but Gwen rests a hand on his arm to calm him.
She's gotten used to a lot living in Asgard for the past decade, not much shocks her anymore, but this makes her stomach drop.
"No." She knows she should not tell the Allfather no, but yet...
"I mean, why? They might be of his bloodline, but they are not his grandchildren, and Loki is not his son. They are children of Asgard."
Odin’s single eye burns with a depth of exhaustion and fury—not at Gwen, but at the truth she speaks. His grip tightens on Gungnir.
"Laufey does not care for bloodlines," he growls. "He sees an opportunity. A weapon." A glance at the twins before his voice drops lower. "Your daughter’s seiðr is already whispered of in Jotunheim. Your son’s strength reminds them too much of what Loki could have been... had I not taken him."
Loki goes unnaturally still beside Gwen. Not in fear but something far worse: understanding.
Then Odin adds, icy and final:
"...And now he demands they set foot on Jotunheim as 'honored guests'… or he marches an army to our gates under the banner of reclaiming stolen kin."
Alarms are going off in Gwen's head.
"Why can we not meet in a neutral location? 'Set foot on Jotunheim' sounds like a trap. I will not put my children in danger to appease a stranger who has no claim to them."
Odin looks every day of a thousand years, tired with the weight of his crown and the knowledge that there are no good answers here. "You think I have not thought of that," he sighs, running a hand down his face. "If I can avoid war… I will… but Laufey is not known for compromise. And even I hesitate to risk the lives of innocents in the name of diplomacy."
Behind them, Liv shifts to stand closer to Varian, her expression closed off.
"Laufey can compromise, meet us, all of us, in a neutral location or... we will leave Asgard. If we are out of the realm, Asgard will no longer be his target, right? Or are the children a flimsy excuse to declare war?"
Odin's eye narrows with the flicker of something ancient and dangerous beneath his exhaustion. He straightens, Gungnir striking the floor with a thoom that echoes through the hall.
"You would abandon Asgard to protect them?" There’s no judgment in his voice, only grim assessment. Beside her, Loki inhales sharply.
Before Gwen can answer, Liv speaks up, her voice eerily calm for an eleven-year-old.
"If we leave, they'll just find another excuse." She doesn’t flinch under Odin’s gaze.
“Laufey wants leverage? Fine.” Loki gestures sharply; emerald magic swirls around them as illusions of all three children appear at his side, perfect replicas down to Maelis tugging her braid. “Send these instead. While he wastes time negotiating with smoke, we find out what he truly wants.And who helped him realize our children exist at all."
Gwen looks to Odin for his answer. Odin has the final say, but surely Odin would not send his grandchildren and heirs into danger.
"It is a risky plan if the deception were uncovered, but it is better than the alternative. I won't risk their safety or freedom."
Odin’s silence stretches long enough that the courtiers begin to shift uneasily. Then, with a slow exhale, he nods once. A king’s concession.
"You will go with them," he says to Loki and Gwen, "but not as yourselves. As shadows." His gaze flicks to the illusory children, then back, solemn. "And if Laufey so much as breathes treachery, I will reduce Jotunheim to a memory. Not a threat. A promise."
Loki grins. "Oh, I do hope he tries something."
The twins exchange glances. Liv is already scheming how to eavesdrop, and Varian is bouncing at the idea of real adventure. Only Maelis remains oblivious in Gwen’s arms, chewing her braid with a happy hum.
Gwen bows her head solemnly. It seems to be settled.
As an uneasy silence falls in the throne room, Gwen suddenly thinks of something. She tries to keep a steady expression. She hands Maelis to Varian.
"Allfather, might I have a word privately?"
Loki eyes her with surprise, as does Odin, but the king nods. "Speak." He gestures for the courtiers to give them space. "What is on your mind?"
The court empties in a whisper-hush, everyone pretending not to listen as they pass. Once they're alone, Odin asks again, more quietly this time.
"What troubles you?"
Gwen approaches with her voice low, still worried about anyone listening in. "I fear we just gave away too much information. As we learned years ago, traitors walked among us as trusted friends. In that crowd, one or more might report our plan to Laufey. It was a good plan but unwise for us all to speak so openly of it. We need to come up with something else in secret."
Odin studies her face, not with suspicion, but approval. He nods. "You think like a leader, Gwen. And you are correct. We cannot risk Laufey realizing our plans." He pauses, tapping Gungnir against the ground in thought. "What do you suggest?"
"Send the message to Laufey that we agree to his terms and pretend that we are following through the plan of disguises and illusions. If there is a spy here that tips him off to that plan, he will refuse and accuse us of treachery, right? In that case, we will know for certain there is a spy and we can claim that the spy was wrong. We did plan to meet, but sending spies and accusing us of treachery and lies is offensive..."
Odin’s eye gleams, suddenly sharp, like a wolf catching scent of weakness.
"Clever." A slow, approving smile spreads beneath his beard. "Laufey has never been patient. If there is a traitor feeding him our words, he will react before thinking. He exhales, grip tightening on Gungnir. So we wait. And when he slips, we strike."
Behind them, Loki’s smirk is knife-sharp. "...I do love it when my wife outsmarts kings."
Gwen would smile along as well and take pride in impressing Odin, but she is still too nervous about the entire plan. She is counting on a spy being present in court and counting on Laufey reacting as she expects. It could easily go wrong, but it's the only plan they have.
"No one is outsmarted, yet. We need to make sure this works. If not, we won't have time to create another plan."
Odin claps a heavy hand on her shoulder. His voice drops, gruff with the weight of experience. "You are right to be cautious. But do not underestimate my own spies." A glint in his eye that promises ice and fire both. "Laufey will play into our hands before the week is done or I am no king at all."
Behind them, Maelis, blissfully unaware of politics, giggles as she tugs Varian’s hair, making him yelp. The tension cracks just enough for Gwen to breathe again.
Gwen trusts Odin. He has been king for centuries; it is safe to put her trust in him. He will not do anything to harm these children.
"Thank you." Gwen breathes deeply, not really at ease. She will not be at ease as long as there are threats around Varian, Liv, and Maelis. She takes Maelis back from Varian's arms.
Odin nods once, his expression softening ever so slightly as he watches Maelis reach chubby toddler hands toward Gwen. "No need for thanks. They are my blood—my legacy—as much as yours." His gaze shifts briefly to Loki, who remains uncharacteristically silent beside her. "I will not let them fall into danger."
Then, with a sharp exhale, Odin straightens back into the Allfather’s mantle. "Go now. Spend today in peace. I will send word when Laufey takes the bait."
As they turn to leave, Loki’s fingers brush against Gwen’s elbow, a rare moment of quiet reassurance from the god of chaos himself.
The family retreats to their chambers. Odin will take care of this, Gwen repeats to herself like a mantra. Liv is calm and observant on the surface, but her mind is constantly scheming, examining all angles. Varian is full of energy, wanting to go to Jotunheim himself and stand up to Laufey. He is too much like his Uncle Thor, ready to barrel in without a plan. Maelis is oblivious to the tension. She just wants to be with her older siblings and keeps asking Liv for a story.
Gwen turns to Loki. "Do you think this will work?"
Loki exhales through his nose, but when he speaks, it’s with careful consideration. "If there is a traitor in the court, they will taste my knife before the week is done."
Across the room, Liv perks up from where she’s weaving illusions for Maelis into a bedtime story. Her green eyes gleam with mischief too familiar. "...Can I help?"
Varian kicks his legs impatiently from where he sits on the floor. "I want to fight them!"
Gwen resists the urge to sigh. "They are certainly your children, Loki..."
Loki’s grin is all teeth, sharp and proud as he ruffles Varian’s hair—much to the boy’s indignant squawk.
"Oh, come now, you can hardly blame me for their best qualities." He dodges a half-hearted swat from Gwen with a dancer's grace. "Liv plans ahead like her mother, and Varian charges in like his uncle… but that fire? His smirk softens into something dangerously fond. That’s all you."
Maelis, sensing she’s missing the fun, toddles over and tugs on Loki’s boot with sticky fingers. "Me too!"
Loki lifts Maelis with a chuckle, bouncing her on one arm as she giggles and tugs at his hair. "You, little storm, will have all the realms at your feet before you’re even old enough to walk in a straight line." He pauses, gaze sliding back to Gwen and her exasperated expression. "It is your strength, my love, that will keep all that chaos in check."
Gwen gives Loki and Maelis a fond smile before turning to look at Liv and Varian.
"Did you two finish your studies for today?"
Liv exhales dramatically, flopping back onto the cushions with all the grace of a martyred scholar. "Mother. We literally just saved Asgard from political disaster. Shouldn’t that count as practical education?"
Varian, ever blunt, makes a face. "I did my runes already."
Loki snorts, familiar with that tone. "Translation: he scribbled them in two minutes upside down." He flicks his fingers; Varian’s discarded slate floats into his grip, revealing what might be either an advanced spell or a very enthusiastic chicken's footprints.
"You, young lady, have not saved anything. Nothing has happened yet, and if it does, you will be far away from it."
Liv slumps back into the pillows, grumbling beneath her breath. Her green eyes, so much like Loki’s when he’s about to cause trouble, glint mischievously as she casts an illusion of a tiny, winged lizard. With a gesture, the lizard takes flight and perches on the slate, leaving what is clearly Loki's own sketch of a chicken.
Loki rolls his eyes. "Very mature, Liv." He glances at Gwen. "Remind me when her next etiquette class is? I think she missed the part about dignity."
"You just had to teach her magic, didn't you?" Gwen exhales and shakes her head. She frowns at the twins sulking. "Fine. Take the day off, but I expect you two to work extra hard tomorrow."
Liv immediately straightens, while Varian pumps his fist into the air, nearly smacking the illusory lizard. "YES! He scrambles to his feet. "Can we go train with Uncle Thor? He promised to teach me that new hammer flip!"
Loki barely stifles a groan at the thought of Thor’s ‘technique’ being passed on. Meanwhile, Maelis, still perched in his arms, cheerfully mimics her brother: "Hamma FLIP!" before bonking Loki’s nose with her tiny fist.
Gwen tries to suppress a laugh at Loki and Maelis.
"Fine, fine, go ask your uncle ..."
They are out the door before Gwen even finishes speaking. She shrugs at Loki. Gwen is face to face with Maelis in Loki's arms and she talks to the toddler with a smile. "You are going to be just like your siblings, aren't you?"
Maelis nods solemnly, her bright green eyes wide with determination. "Just like ‘em!" she declares in a stubborn voice that is all Loki. She tugs on his hair again, then pokes him in the cheek. "You too!"
Loki raises an eyebrow, feigning offense but clearly fighting back a smile. He ruffles Maelis’ hair with one hand and pulls Gwen closer with the other. "I think you are biased, little one. Your taste for chaos clearly comes from your mother."
Gwen rolls her eyes. She is the calm and patient one here in a family of troublemakers—adorable, loveable troublemakers. Loki sets Maelis down, and she goes running right off to pick up one of the wooden practice swords that Varian left.
Gwen presses against Loki, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Tell me it's going to be okay. Tell me that the twins won't be used as political pawns."
Loki presses a kiss to her forehead, his voice pitched low. "You know that I will do whatever is necessary to protect them, Gwen. Just as I would for you."
He reaches up, toying idly with a strand of her hair. "As for being used, they are as much my heirs as they are Odin's, and I would burn Asgard to ash before I let any harm come to them."
It is the most serious Loki has ever sounded. This, he cannot joke about.
She rests her head on Loki's shoulder. She knows this, but she still needs reassurance sometimes.
There's a crash in the other room, and Gwen picks her head up again with a sigh. Maelis definitely broke something with that sword. She leaves Loki's side to fetch the little girl.
Loki can't help but laugh and shake his head at the sound of shattered ceramic. "Go be their mother, wildling. I will find something else for my heirs to do instead of destroying an entire wing of the palace."
He winks as Gwen rolls her eyes and scoops up Maelis, who has in fact cracked a vase to shards and is now waving the practice sword around in victory. "I win!"
"Yes, Maelis, you sure did. Give the sword to your father. I'll have a talk with Varian about leaving his things lying around, right after I clean this up."
She sends the little one off to Loki and she crouches to pick up the pieces of the vase. Gwen chuckles to herself about Loki's nickname for the three-year-old.
"'Little Storm...' accurate."
Loki catches Maelis effortlessly as she launches herself at him, wooden sword still clutched in her tiny fist. He plucks it from her grip with a smirk. "You’re a menace, darling."
She beams up at him like it’s the highest praise, which, coming from the God of Mischief himself, it probably is.
"Papa! I breaked it GOOD!"
Loki sighs dramatically, but his eyes glint with pride as he tucks her under one arm like a wiggling satchel of chaos. "Yes, yes. Let’s go find your siblings before your mother grounds us all."