Not one day.

Not one week.

Not one month.

Not even in one year.

It was one hundred and forty seven years later and now he came. Now they were interested.

It didn't take a missing child. It took a kingdom getting some power.

Red eyes shone with hatred as the frost giant stood on the open plains of ice, just off from the main road that had only been carved two years ago. The creature wore a black robe that covered his form. On it, a tree was ingraved in the center with golden thread. Sparkling stars hung on the fabric around the outline of the tree with it's four boughs and four roots. It was an expensive and formal robe. Unusual to such a species one would think. And of course, they would be right. These robes were for ceremony, political ceremony. Beings made of ice did not like warmth. Even when it was just simple cloth thrown over the body.

Still, despite the hatred, which was so plain on the blue face, he was undeniably a beautiful specimen. The blue skin was raised with the paternal mark on his forehead and despite the clothing, the maternal mark on his chest was visible through the fabric. Intricate carvings, starting from the legs and ending at the neck showed him to be a Mage. They took the form of the five elements and under the glowing light of solar flares bouncing of the magnetic field of the planet (what others may call the Northern or Southern Lights), they reflected the brilliant colouring, going from greens to blues. The sleeveless robes showed circular marks around his shoulders and leading to the neck, the mark of a shapeshifter - such an uncommon thing to find across the nine realms. The body was an open book to those who know what it said.

A rainbow light suddenly crashed down from the sky and the Mage's Marks reflected the bright colouring. Immediately the red eyes hid the hatred on his face, formality waving over the creature.

At this point, two important facts should be noted. Unlike many of his kind who preferred to go bald headed, this one had raven black hair that came down to his shoulders. The other important fact to note was although he was a Frost Giant, he was no giant - as it stated in the paternal marks to those who could read them: he was no giant.

A lone figure emerged from the rainbow but neither being was under the impression that they were alone. They could both sense the ever watching presence that was on the other side of the rainbow that had now vanished. The lone figure was clad in silver armour that glittered oddly in the cold, harsh light and he pulled his red cloak around him as the ice-y weather seeped through the metal and dug it's claws into his flesh.

The Frost Giant held still for one long second, his gaze fixed on the figure, trying to decide what to call the emotions that had come from seeing this being. He didn't think that there was one. So instead he walked forwards to greet the new comer. Bare feet made barely any sound on the ice as he moved, wind pulling at the robes, pushing it against his body which seemed to be unnaturally thin for someone of his position.

"Prince of Asgard, Destroyer of Her Enemies, Protector of the nine realms," The Jotun said, moving to one knee, head bowed as he formally listed off the titles.

"Thor Odinson," he finished. The prince looked awkward as the blue figure gave no time for him to interrupt. He was about to speak when the Jotun continued, almost seemingly nervous about letting the other have a word in edge ways.

"Welcome to Jotunheim. I trust you will find your visit to your liking. I am been assigned by my father, Laufey, to be at your disposal. It is a short journey to the palace by chariot, if you wish to get going, my Prince," The voice remained formal and careful. It had a faint accent, as if to hide what it truly sounded like - which was the intention of the Jotun.

"Rise, please. And stop being so formal. I'm Thor. Hardly anyone calls me prince any more," The god said with a smile on his face. It was such a warm smile on this cold planet.

"I don't believe that I have been given your name," He prompted, as the Frost Giant rose. Being diplomatic was so hard. It was plain on Thor's face that he was curious as to the small nature of this specimen. But it would be impolite. He could not ask. For the first time, the Jotun rose and his eyes met the stormy blue ones.

"It is Laufeyson, my Lord," he said, refusing to drop the formality.

"Just Thor. And surely you have a first name? A name to distinguish you from your brothers," A prick of pain shone in his eyes at the word 'brothers' and the Jotun, Laufeyson, turned away.

"What does it matter? I am not my brothers. They are in line for the throne. I'm a spare and even then, I am not likely to get the throne." He replied. How could he not recognise him? How? They had spent centuries in each other's company! Did it only take a small change in voice and a rather more rapid one in appearance for all the bonds they had formed to disappear!

Thor sighed at the silence and with a hum, his hammer fell to the ground. He could not live with the deceit and he didn't want to be the first to say what he had figured out. What the Frost Giant knew with certainty.

"I must speak my mind. My true reason for being here instead of my mother or father is because I lost my brother here. Just shy of a century and a half ago. We were told that he was dead but received no corpse. And I cannot leave the ends untied," He said, eyes beseeching the not so giant Frost Giant to simply say what was not so hidden.

But the Frost Giant became icy, if one can consider that term to be applicable to such beings.

"We are not here to discuss that. It is in the past and not part of the agreement. This way to the chariot, son of Odin." He snarled and Thor could see they were going to have hours of fun with all the titles that had been showered on him at a younger age. At least the mortals, for all their short lives, would only use Thor and refuse to use the other titles.

"We both know the answer," Thor said, rather dejectedly as he followed in the footprints of the giant, only pausing to pick up his hammer, eyes on the bare, blue feet in front of him. As he walked, he could not help but notice the gold rings, anklets, that were attached to each leg. They did not look like they could come off and there was purple skin on the heel as if it had been burned. Eyes rose to similar marks and jewelry on his wrists. The hero took in all of this with a silent gaze.

"I don't care, Protector of Asgard," There was real venom in the voice at this and the figure paused and uttered an audible sigh.

"I am sorry. I have been rude. Forgive me, Prince Thor," He said.

"It is forgiven," Thor replied, looking at the chariot. It was clearly made for someone their size and had been thoughtfully carved out of wood instead of ice. He wondered how much it had cost. He followed the Frost Giant onto the chariot and looked at the white bear that drove it.

"Hold on," The Jotun said stiffly and Thor took his stance, prepared for motion. Just before the Frost Giant could urge to bear into motion that would make conversation difficult, Thor turned to the blue form besides him. He could feel the cold temperature of the creature coming off and seeping into his skin, the plunging temperatures and lack of movement making him feel lethargic. They were as different as day and night.

"Do you think I would not recognise you? Loki."