AN: Hey everybody, and welcome to the first chapter of House of Cards! I hope you enjoy our beginning and decide to stick around till the end. Remember, I survive off of reviews, good or bad, and they fuel my writing. Want another chapter? Hit that review button and within two days, you'll have your brand-spankin' new chapter. Note: This is dedicated to MarvelFangirl. You review every chapter I update on Caging the Beast and I love you for it. One the topic of CTB, this isn't related to it, or Avengers Battle Front. This is set in an alternate Universe that sticks closer to the movies. Let us begin.
The dungeons of Asgard had been described more than once as an Alternate hell, a labyrinth of pain and suffering that offered you the hope of escape without ever truly offering it. It was a horrid place, completely devoid of any natural light or sound. Its walls were made of cut granite so smooth and straight that you had no chance of scaling them. Torches lined the walls and at the mouth of the cavernous prison stood two guards, back to back, one ready to stop anything from getting out, the other to prevent anything from coming in. They did their work well. No one had ever escaped, and they didn't plan on breaking that record. It was rumored that long ago, because of a faulty spell placed on the cavern by an inexperienced witch, that the halls moved of their own accord, twisting and turning in the half-light, swallowing entire wings and prisoners with them. All the inmates stayed at the front of the dungeon now, where the guards could keep an eye on them. So many had lost their wits in these silent halls, the lack of sound tearing away at them until they could stand it no longer.
It was here that Loki made his home.
Not consensually of course, He'd really had no choice. The Asgardians -he referred to them now as that, since he was no longer one of them- had wanted him dead. They'd wanted to throw him into the deepest flaming pit in Muspelheim and leave him there to burn until Ragnarok. Maybe the fire demon, Surtur, would have found him and ended his misery. Instead the Alfather, ever-loving, ever-patient had decided to throw him into this silent abyss, hoping that after long enough, his sanity would crack and he'd agree to speak about what caused his little war in Midgard. Loki had rolled his eyes at that. Did he need a reason to destroy something? No. He'd been trying to show them that there was no sanity in war, no sanity in chaos, but once again, their primitive, mead-addled minds couldn't grasp the lesson. So, here he sat, in the darkest recesses of the jail some three miles beneath the hallowed halls of Asgard, waiting for them to realize that he truly didn't care. If they were going to treat him like some insane child, fine. He was going to act like on. He was going to sit her, nose in the air, arms crossed, pouting until he got what he wanted. And what did he want? Release? No. Then he'd have to go deal with Sekhmet's disapproving glares and Sigyn's tears. As he sat, pondering what exactly he hoped to gain from this, he saw a light bobbing down the corridor toward his cell. Loki stood and straightened his clothing. In his time under, his hair had grown long an unkempt, his nails, once perfectly rounded, had grown into something more like claws. His clothes had been used as a chew toy by the rats and other vermin that ran rampant through the cells, and he realized that straightening them wouldn't do much for his appearance, but still. He liked to maintain an air of dignity.
As the torch drew closer, Thor and a member of the royal guard came in to view. The blond prince's face was creased with a frown and he appeared to be nervous. Loki had no idea of the reason. He was bound and shackled, and his magic had been gone from him since before he'd been thrown into the dungeon. How long had it been? A month? A day? A few hours? The crown atop the Asgardian's head told him that it had not been a matter of weeks. Thor approached the bars and gripped one of them, not meeting his former brother's jade gaze. "Hello, Loki." He muttered, his voice quiet.
"My, my..." Already his silver tongue was working, piecing together an entire lifetime's insults. "You are dressed like a king, but you speak like a child. How positively endearing." His voice was acidic and cutting. In the dim light, he saw the burly man flinch and hang his head.
"Loki, much has happened since your imprisonment and our father-"
"Your father." He reminded, his eyes narrowed.
"Odin has decided to release you to a realm of your choosing." Loki didn't speak. He knew there would be more. After all, one couldn't receive something for nothing, especially a pardon. There had to be a catch.
"If-" Ah, there it was. "...if you take your followers and the other criminals with you." All was silent once more in the dungeon before the disgraced prince spoke again.
"Any realm of my choosing?" Thor gave a curt nod and he sighed, feigning disinterest. "Fine, I shall stand before Odin." The gears of his mind, so long out of use, started turning, a plan already forming in his mind. The Allfather had no idea what his lack of specificity had just unleashed. The guard reached for the lock, but Loki held up a finger. "One more question, Thor. How long have I been locked away?" He didn't say imprisoned. That would imply that he had not been in control of his situation and anyone who'd known Loki longe nough would know that he was always in control, whether it appeared to be so or not. Thor turned away from him and began walking back down the hall.
"The time does not matter, Loki."
"But it does." He hung his head and murmured something half-heartedly under his breath. "I'm afraid I didn't quite hear you."
"One-hundred years." Loki's blood ran cold. A century. Nothing in the life of an immortal when you were out in the world, but he hadn't been. He had no idea what was going on in other realms, much less his own, and a good deal could change in a hundred years. Kingdoms could fall, people could die, hearts of certain wives could grow cold toward their husbands and certain lost goddesses could be found. He hid his horror well, feigning disinterest as the guard unlocked the cage he'd been trapped in and led him through the dank corridor. Cells lined the walls, each one as silent and dead as the one before. Every ten or so, there'd be a prisoner trapped inside one, a pair of eyes staring out at their would-be king. In one a frost giantess sat, her frail blue hands wrapped around them and she brought her face to the light. Her face was thin and her markings stood out against her skin. A haunting pair of red-on-black eyes stared out from the darkness, pleading silently.
"Please..." Her voice was hoarse and heavily accented. She reached through the bars, her fingers brushing against one of Loki's shackled hands as he passed by. The mage paused and looked down at her as the familiar cold began to creep through his arm and up to his shoulder. The guard released him with a shout and back away, his sword drawn and raised. "My king, take me with you." Loki looked down at her as the freeze over took his face and returned his bright eyes to their natural ruby state. He gripped her hand and as he did, frost began to crawl up the walls around them.
"Soon." He whispered in the Jotun tongue. He'd taken the time to learn it after his...incident in Jotunheim. He figured Laufey would be more receptive of him if he spoke their language. The girl nodded and gave him a small smile just as the guard worked up the courage to yell at her to get back her cell. She retreated, but her eyes never left the form of her king. It was true, that the throne of Jotunheim rightfully belonged to him as the eldest, and one dayhe'd claim it, but not now. It was too soon. As the blue drained from his skin, they moved forward, past endless cells and desperate hands, reaching for light and their only hope of escape. Soon enough, they'd all be free and under his command.
As they reached the lift and began the slow ascent into light, he took the opportunity to study his brother. Thor's hair had grown and he'd exchanged his winged helm for some sort of golden crown. His face looked worn, beaten and tired, more so than Loki had ever seen him. The throne must have bee hard on him. He found that he honestly didn't care. He pulled his eyes away from the man he once considered to be his closest friend and let his mind drift to the things at hand: He needed to find Sigyn and Sekhmet. More importantly, he needed to make sure that Sekhmet's family hadn't found her and that Sigyn still cared for him. While he and his Guard were bound by a marriage pact, neither one of them had ever had feelings for the other. On more than one occasion, she'd told him to his face that she hated him and wished for him to burn in the hottest flames of Muspelheim. Sigyn however, she was different. He allowed memories of the pale, blonde-haired beauty to fill his mind. He'd proposed to her shortly after Thor's return from Midgard, but she'd turned him down in favor of Theoric, one of Odin's Crimson Hawks. Drastic measures had to be taken and- Well, the point is she married him and the Bond he had helped her return his feelings. He'd never asked Sekhmet how she felt about his union to the Lady Sigyn. She hadn't said anything against it, but she hadn't attended their union either. She'd been the only one who'd known about his plot to murder Theoric. The Egyptian rarely had any in put in his plans, especially when she knew they were going to backfire. After he'd told her about his plans to invade Midgard and end his brother during his exile she'd merely shook her head, rolled out of their bed, snatched up her armor and left without a word.
The shuddering of the lift and the intrusion of a few voices snapped him out of his reverie and brought him back into the present. As they reached the top, Loki saw the Asgardian stars shining in the sky and allowed himself to relax. He was finally out of that pit. A hundred years, and he was free. They stepped off of the rusted platform and he tensed once more. He hadn't expected all of these Aesir to be standing about. A great deal of servants and guards gawked at him, their conversation cut short by the wild man who must have once been the disgraced Prince Loki. He glared at them and shot Thor a look. "Surely their presence wasn't necessary. I'm hardly in a state to be seen."
"That is precisely why they're here brother." Thor sighed wearily. He waved a hand and the sea of servants overtook him, leading him toward the baths. Their idle had chatter had grown to a clamor that pained his ears. He looked at the king over his shoulder, shooting him a glare as he was carried off, three women already starting on the knots that had grown into his know waist-length hair. He groaned in pain and glared at them, a threat already perched on the tip of his tongue. He never got the opportunity to use it though, because as soon as he was about to spit it out, he was shoved into a powder room and plopped down in a chair. An elderly woman stood behind him, a pair of shears held in her wrinkled, frail hands. She nodded and the servants were dismissed, leaving them alone together. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.
"You once had such beautiful hair, Prince Loki." He grunted in response and closed his eyes as she began hacking away at the dirty, tangled mess that had once been his pride and joy. What? It was no secret that Odin's youngest 'son' was narcissistic. He took great pride in his appearance and the years spent in his cell had changed it drastically. His skin had lost it pale, cold gleam and now looked sallow and nearly translucent as it stretched over his protruding cheek bones and sunk into the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes, once a lustrous green now looked frightening, giving him the face of a monster. He was filthy, too. Streaks of dirt and grime covered every inch of him, crusting under his nails and making his hair heavy. He felt some semblance of relief as lock after lock fell away, relieve some of the tension from his scalp. "I am afraid that little of your hair is salvageable, but I did the best I could." She set down the scissors and left the small room without another word, leaving the former prince in silence once more. Loki exhaled and opened his eyes, resigning himself to his appearance. His hair barely brushed his ears and most of it was hanging in his eyes. It looked like the wench had taken a sword to his head. Not like she'd had much of a choice.
He stood, turning away from the mirror's mocking reflection and began peeling back layers of clothes that had long since fused together. He tried to shrug his jacket off, but gave up after he found that it was stuck to his shirt, which was practically stitched to his skin. He kicked off his boots which were surprisingly not permanently bound to his feet. He gave the jacket a final tug, releasing a hiss of pain as it tore away at his skin. He needed Sekhmet here with him to do this. He could do it himself. He'd never been able to purposely submit himself to pain, he was too weak. He could barely compete physically with the other realm's rulers at the time of his brief kingship. That's why he'd gotten the Egyptian war goddess.
And just like that, she was there, her claws on Loki's back, helping peel the fabric away from his skin. 'Speak of the devil...' "Sekhmet." Loki greeted.
"My King."
"I have need to speak with you."
"And I have need to listen." He groaned as she removed layer after layer of fabric from his torso. Underneath the shirt, his skin was raw and inflammed from being left untended for so long. She hushed him and brushed her fingers over the area, taking away the worst of the sting. In her own pantheon, Sekhmet and her sister, Hathor had both been goddesses of healing, and though she couldn't perform much magic, he had allowed her to do small healing spells. Each time a shred was pulled away, she placed her fingers on it and murmured a small incantation. Soon enough, his top half was bear and his sickly, thin form was in open air. "Do you need me to assist you further?" He shook his head and pushed aside the curtain that lead to the Baths.
The Baths of Asgard were legendary -much like everything else in the realm- and quite rightfully so. They were huge and incorporated much of Asgard's natural scenery. Plants from around the kingdom grew in pots and in-floor gardens around the entire room. Waterfalls fell from one level of baths to the next and small rivers flowed between all of them, all leading to the largest, central pool that was practically bubbling with heat. He stepped to the edge of a smaller tub and sank down into it, trying to ignore how quickly the water was becoming dirty. His pants had practically disintegrated the moment he'd hit water. He pulled off the last few scarps and leaned back, intent on enjoying the warmth of his bath while he could.
"What did you need to speak to me about?" Sekhmet was crouched next to the small waterfall that joined the above pool with the one he was in. Loki opened one cold green eye and observed her. Not much about her had changed. She was still as tan as ever, and her golden eyes still made a sharp contrast against her skin. She still had a lion's tail, her hair still greatly resembled a mane, and her physique had not declined at all during his time away. She stared down at him, her face a mask of apathy, as always, waiting for his response. Loki began scratching at his skin, tearing of layer after layer of dirt and grime.
"The All-father agreed to release me if I take all the prisoners from the dungeon with me to a realm of my choosing." As he spoke, Sekhmet slid down from her perch and sat down on the ground, leaning against one of its walls. She knew Loki wouldn't simply choose a realm and leave. His former family had chosen to release the monster, and now they were going to pay.
"And you're choosing?"
"Asgard." Sekhmet suppressed whatever emotions she might have had about the subject behind a well-practiced mask of nonchalance. "Think on this, If Odin truly has decided to release me into any realm of my choosing, what will he do if I choose Asgard? I'll have free roam of the realm, and the people of the capitol city rarely choose to venture beyond our walls. There's an entire realm out there waiting to be conquered-"
"And you think yourself a conqueror?" He momentarily stopped scrubbing to glare at her. He'd never liked how unreadable she was, her voice always monotone, her expression always flat. He much preferred the angry Sekhmet, the violent war goddess that came out only when he hurt her, or he was hurt.
"No, I think myself a king. One who has been robbed of his throne."
"You have a throne on Jotunheim." She retorted, standing and stalking toward the front of the room, her ears erect. She sniffed and her body tensed, her hands already beginning to superheat. Something was coming.
"Yes, but I can't very well take you there with me, can I? You'd freeze to death."
"I'd be fine." The lion goddess growled, her tail flicking in irritation. Loki knew that this was all just backlash from the Asgardian's fear of her. While they were a warrior people and respected the foreign goddess of their trade, she was a fearsome creature, built like no woman they'd ever seen. In her natural state, she was close to seven feet tall, with the head of a female lion and legs to match. She had ended empires in one fail swoop and could call an army out of the depths of Hel to end there's. She wouldn't, though. Only a few people knew her for what she really was: A pet. Loki's guard dog and sometimes lap dog. She couldn't do anything regarding attack without his prior approval.
As the curtain was thrown aside and the person Sekhmet had scented earlier came barreling in, she prepared herself for attack, only to realize who it was and put her weapons away. The woman had pale blonde hair done in loose curls that framed her face, and a pair of baby blue eyes. She wore a green and white dress with a split so large in the front that it left most of her legs visible. A golden tiara inset with emeralds sat on her head, and though she'd been crying, she was still radiant. "Where is he?" She asked Sekhmet. The war goddess stepped aside and allowed the lady Sigyn to see her husband. Tears welled up in her eyes once more and she ran to him. "Loki!" The god of mischief flinched initially at her contact, but relaxed into her backward embrace.
"Sigyn, you'll ruin your dress." He mused, thoughtfully as his wife began to place kisses on his head and still very dirty face.
"Damn it, I don't care!" She cried and he smiled. He did truly love her, whatever the maids in the halls whispered about their relationship. He knew they spoke of his family ill. Once, early in their marriage, Sigyn had been sick and confined to her quarters, and there'd been a rumor going around that Loki had killed her and fed her to Sekhmet. Pathetic servants. As if he could ever destroy the beautiful creature that knelt behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sekhmet nod.
"Excuse me my liege." She murmured, excusing herself from the room. Loki watched her go and as she left, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of emotion cross her face, but it was too small to be recognized.
-/\-
Three hours later, light began to dawn anew in Asgard's skies, Loki left the baths, a towel wrapped around his waist. The three hand maidens who'd assisted him before were curled up on the floor, sleeping. He rolled his eyes and stepped over them, heading for the direction he thought his room was in. Sigyn had left in the wee hours of the morning after much convincing. He'd told her that she needed her rest and she'd protested that she could rest fine in the baths with him. After awhile, however, she'd conceded and had been led back to her chambers by two very sleepy maids.
As the prince wandered the enormous halls of his wing, he took note of how much had changed. Tapestries had been taken down, windows had been covered and a fine layer of dust covered everything. People had probably stopped even venturing to this wing after he'd been locked away. There was a library down here, as well as the records of the land, but there were libraries in other parts of the palace and records were easily copied and moved. This place, like him, was now just another relic, lost and forgotten, pushed to the back of everyone's memories. He turned a corner and pushed open the wooden door that met him.
His room, thankfully, had remained untouched and everything was just as it was on the day that he'd gotten up to go and meet his broth- Thor on the Bifrost and fight him, His clothes were still hanging in the closet and the covers on his bed were still turned down. A basket of fruit that must have once been fresh sat rotting in the corner. Loki sighed and collapsed onto his bed, relishing the comfort and softness after a decade of nothing but hard walls and stone floors. He wanted to lay there and just go to sleep, but a knock on the door reminded him that he, unfortunately, had a meeting with the All-father. He remained silent for a moment, but the knocks just became more urgent.
"I'm dressing! I'll be out in a moment!" He growled. He stood and grabbed the first outfit he saw out of his closet: A long-sleeved black shirt and dark leather pants. Once they would have been tight, showing of every angle and muscle in his body, but now they hung limply off of his frame. It would be months, perhaps even years before his body was back to the state it was in before and would take much recovery. He crossed the dark, dusty room to his door and pulled it open, only to find Sekhmet and Thor arguing. The tan goddess was snarling into Thor's face, and the blond god's hand was already clutching the hilt of hi hammer as he glared back.
"...your fault Odinson. If you wish your mistakes to be known, then we shall tell him as a unit or not at all. "
"You have no right-"
"I have every right!" Sekhmet's claws slid out with a familiar slice and Thor's hold on Mjolnir tightened. Loki coughed, interrupting the build-up of the brawl they were no doubt about to start in his hallway. His guard's expression relaxed back into its usual neutral position, and Thor backed away, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"I apologize, brother, we had not meant to disturb you."
"If you hadn't meant to disturb me, you wouldn't have pounded on my door like Ragnarok itself was falling down upon us." The trickster god passed through the frame and began making his way toward Odin's throne room, Thor on his right and Sekhmet trailing behind. For a few brief, elysian seconds, they woalked in silence, before the foolish blond thunder god decided to try and give Sekhmet an order.
"Lady Sekhmet, you are dismissed. Surely your presence is not required here any-" A savage snarl showed him that it most certainly was. Thor rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about Egyptians, which the war goddess heard and challenged him with. Insults were shot back and forth, most of the good ones coming from Sekhmet, and threats were taken up. They continued in this manner the rest of the fifteen minute walk to the throne room in which Odin resided.
The huge hall was already full of spectators, from the highest nobles, to the lowest of the servants. All had come to see Prince Loki's choice. As they made their way through the crowds, Thor parted people toward either side of the trio and Sekhmet acted s a deterrent, preventing anyone from getting to close or mocking her master. Asgard's former king was done up in all his glory, the horned helm that had become familiar to Loki as a child sat on his head, the golden eye patch covered his eye and he wore silver armor. He practically glowed from the throne. Odin lifted one hand into the air and the entirety of the hall bowed, save for Sekhmet and Loki. The Egyptian didn't bow because Pdin wasn't her king. Loki did it out of sheer echoed around the throne room and he smirked. 'The show's just getting started.'
"Odin, why do you on the throne when Thor is healthy and well?" The former king looked as if he were trying to contain his rage at being called by his first name by his former son.
"Your brother decided to let me rule in his stead while he works out some..." He cast a look down toward Sekhmet and Thor, who were glaring at each other and arguing in hushed voices. "...Personal problems." Snickers came from some of the maids down in the front, but a low growl shut them up quickly. The Allfather stared down at his youngest son, his expression unreadable. The court settled, and guard escorted him closer to the throne. "Thor has already explained why I called you hear Loki, but he did not tell you why I decided to release you. Your brother is king. He could have let you go any time he chose, but he waited for my approval. He came to me every year, begging for your release, but I would not indulge him."
"Why choose now?" Loki hissed, his arms crossed over her chest. Odin was silent for a moment.
"I left you in that dungeon because I wanted you to learn a lesson. I now realize, however, that that lesson will never be learned, and there is no point in keeping a student that does not want to be taught." His voice was weary, as if he were tired and wished the whole nonsense of Loki and his quest for power to be over. "So, We are sending you, along with Asgard's dark souls away to a realm of your choosing." Loki watched the All-father, his eyes cold. Those words could be twisted and manipulated.
"Any realm?" Odin nodded.
"You may go to-"
"Asgard." The former king's jaw tightened and his gaze intensified. "I chose Asgard." All was silent for a moment before shouts broke out all over the throne room. Cries of foul play and jeers at the former Prince rippled through the crowd. The All-father slammed his spear on the cold marble tiles.
"Loki, if you honestly think-" The liesmith laughed and shook his head.
"I didn't say I wanted to stay in the palace. Asgard is a large realm. I'll be on the opposite side of it tomorrow. Just give me my people and I'll leave tonight. You'll never see me again, unless I'm invited back."
"Loki, I will release you, but-"
"Father, Please." Thor's voice came from behind the former prince. "Leave Loki in this realm. It will allow us to keep an eye on him and-" The war goddess stepped interrupted the thunder god.
"All-father, I have served your son faithfully for over a century now, and you know I would allow no harm to come to Asgard. It has become a second home to me, and its people accepted me with grace and dignity. I would not allow Loki to harm the man I served or his family." Until she'd mentioned his name, Loki had been under the impression that she'd been speaking of him and not his brother Thor. His eyes narrowed. Her contract, which was magically binding, stated that she was to serve the king. After Thor's return, Loki had no longer been king, and during his absence, Thor had been coronated. It would only make sense that she'd been bound to him. Odin remained silent, surveying the three younger gods in front of him. The Liesmith, His Shadow and His Brother. He pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke quietly.
"Gather your people, your servants and your prisoners. I want you gone by midnight." Loki nodded, a smirk spreading over his lips. He gave an over-exaggerated bow.
"As you wish."
AN: How was our first chapter? Let me know, maybe? Review! Review now! DO IT.