Loki listened. Even though he was good at lecturing, teaching lessons, he was also remarkable at listening. Everyone had their side, he knew this to be true, and he was unbiased to Bergfinnr’s situation. He would not, could not judge the younger man.
“That sounds like a much different situation,” he said, a form of reassurement. “Politics make things so much more convoluted. As a king, many would agree that turning from your people is the worst thing you could do. It does not mean you side with the ones who murdered this man you speak of, it means you’re big enough to set aside your personal quarrels in order to rule. That takes a level of bravery few can boast.”
In those passing moments, his features had softened, and he allowed a small smile to appear, however brief. Berg was young, as young as Loki’s own grandkids, and there was this innate desire tucked inside of himself that wanted to aid, that wanted to provide advice when needed, to be someone to turn to when things were rough. Perhaps a silly notion. Time had softened the old man considerably. “I suppose, as someone who was quite close to the Æsir once upon a time, it’s critical that I warn you that they never play fair and it is dangerous to make too large an enemy out of them. I would not wish a fate similar to mine on anyone in this world. They will strip you of everything you love if given the opportunity.”
In turn, Bergfinnr listened. After all, he wanted to learn rather than be heard. Still, Loki’s words reassure him, a reassurance he had never received from his council. No, his council was desperate for a war, but he would not give in, and so they called him a son who cared not for his father. They said he may as well have killed his father himself. His actions being called brave or anything alike was something he no longer believed would happen. It opened his thoughts to the fact that his council was taking it more personal than he was, they were taking it too personal. Perhaps it was time to consider replacing his council to people that believed in him and didn’t try to make him his father. His mother would have been delighted at this realisation. “Thank you.” It was more than he had expected, this understanding Loki offered him. After all, he had been the naive boy king, thinking betrayal was only one thing.
A small part of him wanted to disagree with Loki, tell the other king that the Æsirhad already taken everything from him but even though they may have killed most of his family, there was more to him than just that. Bergfinnr knew that much. There was no way Bergfinnr could ever be prepared to suffer the wrath of the Æsir, Odin was too unpredictable for that. Look what Odin had done to one who used to be called their friend, death would be mercy compared to what Odin could bring upon him. So instead he nodded, acknowledging the man’s words, thankful again for the words of warning. “I will not, let us hope we will be allowed to live in peace for the time being. However, for whatever it is worth; must you ever take up arms against them or find yourself in need of an army of jǫtnar, know that I will stand by you.” He had no loyalty to the Æsir, nothing that bound him to them. It was time he had started forming his own alliances, and to him this king who could teach him so much if time allowed, would be a solid place to start. With those words he held out his hand, hoping that Loki would grasp his hand.
