Odin met Thor’s eyes and said firmly, "No. You will not chase him. Loki made his choice. If fate brings him back, it will happen in time. Until then, you belong here, with Asgard."
Thor looked down, holding Mjolnir tightly. "But if he lives, he is alone."
Frigga stepped forward, her face sad but her voice steady. "Then we can only hope his path is not too dark. He is still my son, and your brother, Thor, no matter what he says."
Thor’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.
Heimdall rested on his sword and spoke quietly. "The realms are restless. With Loki gone and the Destroyer destroyed, Jotunheim may rise again. We must remain watchful."
Odin nodded. "One trouble has passed, but others will come. Asgard must be ready." He looked at Thor. "Your duty now is not only to mourn, but to learn what it means to rule. The crown is not yet yours, but one day it may be."
Thor listened, torn between his father’s words and the pain of losing Loki.
Alex then said calmly, "Asgard must be ready for two outcomes—Loki returning as an ally, or Loki returning as an enemy. You should prepare for both."
Thor looked at him, faint light still in his eyes. "And you? If that day comes, what will you do?"
"You can call me for help. I’ll stand with you," Alex answered with a shrug.
Odin studied him for a moment. "You are not of Asgard, yet you have helped my son and this realm. For that, you have my thanks, Midgardian."
Alex gave a small nod.
Together, they returned across the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge fading behind them as the golden towers of Asgard came into view.
The rainbow light faded, leaving them in the golden halls. Guards bowed as Odin passed, and the great doors of the throne room closed behind them.
For a moment, no one spoke. The air felt heavy, like the silence after a storm.
Frigga touched Thor’s arm gently. "You carry your grief quietly, but I see it. Do not let it turn to anger. Loki would not want that, even if he cannot admit it."
Thor finally looked at her, his voice low. "I only wish I had done more to keep him from falling."
"You could not have chosen for him," Frigga said softly. "Each of you walks your own road. Love him still, but do not blame yourself."
Thor nodded, though his heart was restless.
Odin, standing by the throne, spoke with calm weight. "Thor, there will be battles yet to come. You must stand ready—not only with your hammer, but with your wisdom. Asgard cannot be ruled by strength alone."
Thor bowed his head slightly. "I will try, Father."
He then turned to Alex. "You said you wished to learn magic of Asgard. My mother, Frigga, is the one who understands such things. She can guide you, so you may learn through her."
Frigga stepped forward, her gaze steady yet gentle. "If you truly wish this, Alex, then walk with me. Asgardian magic is deep and old, not a tool to be taken lightly. But if you have the sense to touch it already, then perhaps you were meant to."
Alex gave a simple nod. "Then I’ll learn. Whatever I can."
Odin’s voice carried across the hall, calm but firm. "Go then. Frigga will show you what must be known. Thor, remain with me. The matters of the realm cannot wait."
Thor hesitated for a moment, then gave Alex a brief look—part warning, part trust—before following Odin toward the throne.
Frigga placed a hand on Alex’s arm and guided him down a quieter hall. The golden light dimmed as they passed into older chambers, walls carved with runes that shimmered faintly, like stars pressed into stone.
"This is where Asgard keeps its oldest teachings," Frigga said softly. "Few outside the royal bloodline have stood here. Now, you will."
Frigga led Alex into a room that felt full of power. The walls were covered with golden-threaded tapestries showing scenes from the Nine Realms. In the center was a low table made from world-tree wood. On it were runestones that glowed faintly and seemed almost alive.
She stopped in front of the table and looked at him. "This is seidr, the oldest kind of Asgardian magic. You don’t use it like a sword or hammer. It listens. It responds. It weaves. You said you can feel its threads—show me."
Alex stepped closer, his hand hovering over the runestones. Immediately, he felt the same pull in the air he had noticed before, like invisible strings brushing against him. He exhaled slowly. "It’s... like they’re pulling on me. Like shadows, but softer."
Frigga nodded, thinking. "Good. You can sense the weave, even if you don’t know how to control it yet. Don’t force it. Let it come naturally, like wind bending grass."
Alex lowered his hand until it touched one of the stones. It glowed brighter, reacting to him. The other stones trembled slightly, stirred by the same energy.
Frigga’s eyes widened a little. "So easily... even Thor had trouble sensing the weave when he was young. You have something unusual, Alex."
He shrugged lightly. "Or maybe I just got lucky."
"No," Frigga said softly, "in Asgard, there is no luck. Only the will of the Norns."
Meanwhile, in the throne room, Odin settled onto the great throne, Gungnir resting at his side. His voice was heavy with authority.
"Thor. Loki’s fall has shaken more than just this house. The Jotuns won’t stay quiet, and the other realms are watching. You must be strong, not only with your hammer but with your judgment."
Thor stood tall, though his eyes were still filled with sadness. "I will try, Father. But how can one rule when his own brother has fallen away?"
Odin’s gaze was firm. "You do it by remembering that the realm cannot be carried by grief. Asgard needs a protector. One day, it will need a king."
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