Icarus didn’t find her parents on Jotunheim. That didn’t mean she had found nothing.
She remembered the air was cold when she landed- bitingly, horribly cold, the kind that would have had her teeth chattering within seconds before the change.
Now the cold was only an inconvenience- hard to weather, but not impossible. Just something she didn’t like.
But still. She had to know. And so, relying on memories both of just months to her and over a century ago for everyone else, she headed for where her Mum had described as their home- so, with her uncle and her brothers dead (and her heart wrenched in her chest at the thought, and she had to force her mind back on track before she started crying), wouldn’t there be no reason to stay back on Earth?
Wouldn’t they have gone home? And wouldn’t Mom follow?
It was what made logical sense to her- except, when she reached the throne room after ages of sneaking around and trying not to draw attention, they weren’t there.
The throne room wasn’t empty- from behind, Icarus caught sight of something like the sleeve to a suit jacket and froze for a moment, wondering if it was the other Loki.
But regardless of who it was, it wasn’t her mother- either of them. She turned to leave-
And tripped. Over one of her own vines, which had grown around her legs in her agitation, and somehow she hadn’t noticed. The voice that had spoke up was harsh, and familiar in a way that she absolutely hadn’t expected.
“Dare?” She demanded, trying to twist around to see. And she wasn’t dissappointed. Her little sister stood in front of her, her curls pulled out of the way of her face in a sensible ponytail. She was older than Icarus had last seen her- she looked a few years older than Icarus, maybe the equivalent of twenty-one . Her eyes were almost comically wide, and Icarus recognized the knife in her sister’s palm as the one Icarus had used to carry everywhere.
“My sister is dead.” Dare growled, her voice breaking on the last word as she took a step forward. “Who the fuck are you?”
Icarus shook her head and opened her mouth, suddenly on the verge of tears again herself.
Its me. I’m not joking, I really am your sister, I was just in a magical coma while my body formed a literal planet-
Instead, what came out was a faint, “you’re wearing sneakers.”
Dare blinked at him, puzzled.
“You’re wearing sneakers,” Icarus repeated, a bit louder. “In case something happens. You wear them to sleep too, still, just in case you might need to wake up and run. You have a knife under your mattress that mom gave you in a different timeline because Uncle Darryl gave me one and you didn’t want to be caught without one, and I bet you have a backpack packed in your room.”
Now Dare’s jaw dropped, and her hand holding the knife began to tremble slightly.
“You’re dead.” She said again, though her voice was uncertain now.
“When you came after me to make sure the Representative didn’t kill me,” Icarus said, feeling a little desperate, “you were screaming and banging on the door. I didn’t realize it was you, and I started freaking out and accidentally knocked over a coffee table.”
The knife in Dare’s hand clattered to the floor. Icarus had just a moment to breathe, and then she was flattened by the weight of a jotun throwing her arms around her.
Icarus hugged Dare back tightly and closed her eyes.
“I’m home.” She whispered, over and over like some sort of prayer. “I’m home, I promise.”