Samhain's Child

Throughout her life she has Seen things and finally the day comes when the reason why starts to reveal itself. Her Visions lead her to an abandoned Loki in newly mortal form and she knows that from now on their Fates are bound, for better or for worse.

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This is set several months after the Avengers, just after Loki's punishment has been decided. I know banishment in mortal form has already been done (a lot) but to me it makes most sense as a punishment and I've had the idea of a character who has 'visions' for ages and thought she could fit in quite well to such a story and thus, this fic was born. :]

As ever, I do not own anything related to the Avengers or anything else Marvel-y; I only claim ownership of my OC(s) and this particular plotline.

Rated T for occasional bad language, and probably deep, reasonably mature themes.

Also I know my cover is fairly crap but it's all I could think of .

o

A couple of notes which you'll probably find useful before you read:

Efanna – AY-vanna; a form of Efa – AY-va:

Welsh form of Eve meaning 'life'

Samhain – Sow-in ('sow' as in 'how'):

31st October-1st November, these days more commonly known as Hallowe'en, Samhain (also spelt Samhuinn or Sauin) is a Pagan/Celtic/Gaelic festival celebrating the Celtic/Gaelic new year and honouring the dead. It's particularly important for this fic for the reasons in the quotation below:

'At Samhain, time lost all meaning and the past, present, and future were one.'

(Deeper Into Samhain by Susa Morgan Black (Druid, FSA Scot) article can be found at www . druidry . org)

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Chapter One:

The Day Things Changed


The walls glow golden and intricate patterns cover the black floor. The room is crowded but there are two to whom the attention is drawn. At one end of the hall, on a raised dais stands a man with white hair and a golden eye-patch beneath his elaborate helmet. He radiates power and wisdom and his single eye is filled with a riot of emotions; anger, disappointment, pity, love; but the one that shines above all the rest is regret. What it is that he does fills him with a great sadness. At this moment he wishes above all else that this did not have to come to pass.

The second man is younger, slimmer and far less conflicted. His green eyes burn with hatred beneath his slicked back, jet black hair. He is chained and gagged and paraded into the hall by armed guards, but nonetheless maintains an air of composure and superiority. When he reaches the dais he is forced to his knees in front of the King he no longer acknowledges.

"Loki Odinson - "

Loki interrupts the speech with a low growl, green eyes flashing anger. The guard at his side raises a hand to silence him but all are cut off by the power of Odin's voice.

"Loki Odinson," he repeats in a tone that brooks no argument, "Your trial is over. Your punishment has been agreed."

Odin looks down at his adopted son and his voice becomes weary.

"For the crimes you have committed you are no longer worthy of your power; you are no longer worthy of your title; you are no longer worthy to live amongst the peoples of Asgard."

With a sigh the great King lifts his spear and levels it at the trickster's chest.

"I hereby strip you of your power and bind you in mortal form until such day as you are able to love and be loved without compromise, nor falsehood, nor exemption. If you ever wish to atone you must prove beyond all doubt that your heart is capable of honesty, of forbearance and of compassion. Until such day Asgard, and all it entails, will be forever lost to you."

A surge of power grows in the air around the All-Father and with his next words envelops Loki with a blinding flash and a deafening roar.

"And so, in the name of my Father, and his Father before him, I, Odin All-Father, cast you out!"

"Bugger!"

Efanna's eyes had fluttered open to find that she was sprawled out on the floor and scattered around her were the shattered remains of her favourite vase. The flowers it had been holding were lying limp next to her hand and a large puddle was slowly seeping across the slate of her kitchen floor and soaking into her clothes. She had been going to refill the vase when the Vision had come, knocking her unconscious as always. Gingerly, she sat up, being careful not to cut herself on the jagged shards and checked that she hadn't hurt herself. More than once she'd woken up covered in blood from a gash on her head and over the course of her twenty-one years she'd broken her leg, arm and wrist and sprained her ankles several times. It was a miracle that she'd never gotten concussion, but she put that down to her strange ability to heal herself that seemed to come with her Visions. It was something she assumed was necessary seeing as they were completely unpredictable and always resulted in her falling unconscious on the spot.

Not that she had any way of telling, she thought to herself as she carefully picked the larger shards up and fetched a dustpan and brush to clear up the rest. Her Visions could hardly be called normal, neither could her abilities of self-restoration. Even her mother, who had had some connection with what she had called the Natural Magiks had never heard of anything of the like. Only in the oldest legends and myths of the world was there anyone with skills such as hers. She'd not even Seen anyone else like her, although the world seemed to be producing more and more people with extraordinary skills, whether through birth or Fate. She knew she was not the only one who could be considered abnormal.

Efanna had been born at exactly midnight on Samhain, the hour at which the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. She had been an unusual child right from the off; from the moment her eyes had opened her irises had been a luminescent white, enclosed by the darkest of rings, rather than the usual blue. Initially the midwife had thought her blind, but it soon became clear that she could see perfectly well and she grew it became obvious that she could 'see' far more than just what was in front of her.

She sighed as she deposited the last of her broken vase into the bin and trudged upstairs to change her now sodden top and jeans. This skill of hers had ruled her life. There were times when she might have said ruined, but she had grown to accept her strange powers and the consequences they had on the way she lived. And it wasn't really the end of the world that she had to replace her vase. Again. At least the internet meant she rarely had to leave home to replace the various things she managed to break when her Visions struck, even if delivery times were never particularly quick to her small cottage in the middle of the Welsh valleys.

She wasn't particularly bothered by her most recent Vision. As far as she could tell it was something that had happened, was happening, or was going to happen fairly close to the present, but she was so used to such things that she rarely stopped to think about them until she'd managed to sort out whatever mess they'd left her in. It was only after she had returned to her kitchen in a fresh pair of grey skinny jeans and her favourite purple hoodie and dug around her cupboards for a new vase that she realised the full import of her latest collapse. When she stepped back to consider the old milk jug she'd put the flowers in (having been unable to find a vase) it suddenly hit her that she'd Seen this day before. And she knew where she was going to be that afternoon. She glanced at her watch; it was 11:23.

"Bugger," she muttered again before hurrying to grab her bag and pull on a scruffy pair of boots and a thin pair of black cotton gloves. Two minutes later she was manoeuvring her old Land Rover down the muddy track that connected her cottage with the nearest lane, and then, several miles later, to the nearest proper road. At 14:47 she was going to meet a man on the waterfront at Cardiff Bay and it was at least a two and a half hour drive, even when the traffic was good.

Her Visions were rarely this specific, and, especially when they concerned the future, this exact. But this one she had Seen over and over throughout her life, always the same and always accompanied by the notion that whatever would become of this meeting was something that was Fated. She'd long ago learnt to sense the importance of the things she Saw, and this seemed to be right up there with the destruction in Manhattan earlier that year. Hence why she was dashing out of her house in the middle of a very rainy September with nothing but a hoodie and driving for hours to meet a strange man in the middle of a city she hadn't been to since she was eight.

If anyone had known what she was doing they would probably think about getting her sectioned.

Efanna however knew many things that others did not, and many more that they would never believe even if they did. She knew who the man she was rushing to meet was. And even if she wasn't Fated to meet him, he wasn't the sort of person she wanted wondering the streets of Cardiff, even if she had to drive halfway across the country to retrieve him.

After all, Loki had destroyed the last Earth city he'd visited.


Please let me know what you think, I currently have no idea where this is going and I'd like to know if anyone else is interested in finding out! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated as I want to improve my writing, if there's anything you don't like, give me a reason and a possible suggestion for improvement :] Although of course I'd be thrilled just to know you like it too! :P