This idea came to me a couple weeks ago when I got hit with a sudden desire to watch Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame and I unfortunately don't have a copy of it on DVD so I can't watch it at school. I ended up finding the opening song and scene on youtube and watched it oh about 20 times or so (I'm not going to tell you how many times I watched Hellfire, it's embarrassing). Sometime about my 15th repeat of listening to and watching the scene I started making connections between Hunchback and other universes I know and somehow my mind carried me over to Marvel and I made a connection between Hunchback and Thor and thus this was born. I don't think it needs to be said that this little fic got a lot of it's inspiration from that part of the movie. So, if you're a big enough Disney freak, like I am, you should easily spot the similarities.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, read this first and then scoot over to youtube and search "the bells of notre dame." The first video that shows up in the search should be the right one, it's a little over 7 minutes long. Watch it and bask in what I think is one of the best openings to a Disney movie ever. The music is just so beautiful!
So, I hope you all enjoy my alternate take on how exactly Odin found Loki. You never know what really could have happened. History is written by the winners, after all.
As always: Read, Review, and Enjoy!
-The Beckster
PS- I have absolutely no idea if this has been done before, my apologies if this resembles something you've done before. You know what they say about great minds and thinking alike. ;)
PPS- I've gotten a couple of questions asking whether or not I'll be continuing the story. The answer is No, simply because I only intended this to be a one-shot and I don't particularly have any inspiration to make this a multi-chapter fic. I've got too many open stories in the works already. ;)
Another Stolen Relic
"Your father is a murderer and a thief." -Laufey
Silence had fallen over Jotunheim. It rung eerily in the ears of the soldiers that picked their way carefully amongst the bodies of the fallen. After spending so long living in the din of battle, the silence made the survivors almost feel uneasy. Astride his horse, Odin surveyed the aftermath of the long fought war through his remaining eye. Grimly, soldiers inspected the bodies of the fallen looking for wounded comrades and slaying any Jotuns that still dared to draw breath.
Odin had not felt so secure in a very long time. The rush of victory pulsed through his veins; more intoxicating than the finest mead. Laufey was finally defeated and sent back into his hole to skulk. The Casket of Ancient Winters was secured and on its way to the weapons vault deep beneath Asgard and with it went the Jotun's power. At last, peace would come to the nine realms.
Across the field a dark figure caught his eye. Odin turned his gaze to watch them. They skirted around the edge of the battle field, cloaked, hooded, and stooped over. Occasionally the figure stopped at a fallen body and searched earnestly for a couple seconds before moving on. Anger pushed through Odin's veins. To rob the dead, particularly those fallen in battle, was an unspeakable crime only committed by the lowest ilk. He would expect no less from a Frost Giant.
The All Father called to two of his lieutenants to follow him and guided his horse across the battlefield. The Jotun did not acknowledge their approach and continued their search. Odin observed that they only worked with one arm. The other cradled a small bundle to their chest which was visible when they bent over to search a body. No doubt whatever items they had managed to pilfer from the corpses. Odin stopped, giving the figure a relatively wide berth and signaled to his lieutenants. They nodded, took up their bows and notched an arrow, drawing back the string to fire. Odin put his hand on the hilt of his sword. If the Jotun were to become defensive they could clear the distance in a few bounds; he would not take chances.
"Halt!" one lieutenant called out to the figure. "Move and we will kill you."
The figure flinched and looked to the Asgardians. It was a Jotun woman. Her dark eyes widened in alarm. Without a word she turned and ran away from the Asgardians. Arrows flew past her, barely missing their mark, and stuck in the ice.
"Save your arrows. I will catch her," Odin said, urging his horse into a gallop to pursue the fleeing woman.
He chased her through the empty, ruined paths of what was once the thriving realm of Jotunheim. She had the advantage of knowing the landscape and being able to slip through openings Odin's horse could not. Following her was easy, though. Her path was straightforward and seemed planned. She was running with a purpose, to a destination, and not simply trying to evade capture. Odin chased her relentlessly; never getting close enough to strike, but never losing sight of her for more than a couple seconds.
The woman ran between great pillars of ice and stopped at the foot of a large, ornately carved stone altar. Her pounding heart, rushing blood, and gasping breaths still could not drown out the pounding of Odin's steed's hooves. Breathing was painful and she felt weak, but she never loosened her hold on the bundle clutched to her chest. She turned to face her pursuer believing he would stop his pursuit. When he showed no sign of slowing her heart stopped.
"You cannot harm me," she screamed hurriedly, "This is a sacred—"
Before she could finish her words the steel of Odin's sword cut deep into her neck. The light left her eyes instantly and her body crumpled at the foot of the altar. Her blood pooled slowly and mixed with her dark hair.
"Robbing the dead is a crime punishable by death," Odin stated coldly. He dismounted and walked to the woman's body to retrieve whatever she had stolen. He reached for the cloth wrapped bundle still clutched tightly to her chest. Whatever she had stolen she believed valuable enough to die for. Suddenly, the bundle writhed beneath his hand. Odin pulled away the cloth and stepped back in surprise. A Jotun infant squirmed in its mother's unresponsive grasp. He whined softly a couple times. After receiving no comfort from his mother, his whimpers quickly turned into cries.
Odin looked around quickly; the baby's cries would draw attention to him if he did not act quickly. He pulled a dagger from the sheath at his belt and knelt by the infant. He only had a moment of doubt as he raised the dagger. The woman had probably been searching the dead for her lover, not thieving. And he normally wouldn't think about killing a child, but this was a Jotun child. A child who would grow up learning to hate him and become his future enemy. It would be best to eliminate it now. After all, what was one more dead Jotun? Odin shook himself and put his doubts aside. He raised the dagger to thrust it into the infant's heart.
"Stop!" a voice called out. A hand gripped his wrist and stopped the knife's plunge.
Odin twisted away from the intruder's grip, a hostile snarl on his lips. He dropped his knife and stepped back from the woman who stared him down. She released her grip and allowed him to retreat a couple steps.
Odin stared into the cold, steely eyes of the woman before him. Her face was set in a severe, reprimanding frown and her eyes blazed with anger. She was tall and pale; her dark hair fell to the middle of her back. She was beautiful, but underneath it she projected power and control. Two other women flanked her, one with golden hair the other copper. Both were as tall and beautiful as their sister, and both matched her posture and expression. These women were the Norns.
"You!" he hissed.
"Do not speak," Urdr, the dark haired sister commanded.
Skuld, the copper haired sister, stooped down and picked up the crying infant. She comforted him quietly and slipped her finger into his small hand; the wailing stopped immediately.
"You have defiled the sanctity of our temple," Verdandi seethed.
"I have done nothing wrong," Odin shot back defensively.
"You spilt this woman's blood at the foot of our altar and would have spilt this child's blood as well…" Skuld began, looking up from her comforting of the child.
Urdr continued her sister's thought. "Our temples are sacred places of life. Children are brought here and presented to us that we may begin writing their lives..."
"And it is not this child's fate to die here today, nor was it his mother's," Verdandi finished.
"Women and children are often casualties of war. It is no concern of mine what you weave into their tapestries," Odin said haughtily.
"It should be your concern, All Father, as your tapestry it yet unfinished, and it would be little trouble for us to rewrite your fate," Skuld threatened.
"Say what you will, I have done no wrong. Your own laws stop you from unjustly punishing the innocent."
Verdandi smiled sweetly though it did not reach her eyes. "Guilt is determined by the judge, All Father."
"If you must lie to yourself to ease your own conviction, then so be it. We are not plagued by such sentiments. We only see the truth before us," Urdr said coolly.
"I do not fear what you may bring upon me," Odin countered.
"Perhaps you think yourself above the power of our influence, as you are the All Father, but what of your son?" Skuld offered, a venomous smirk forming on her lips.
Odin's stomach clenched. "Thor is only a child; he has no part in this affair. You cannot harm him."
"We may do as we please. As a child, his fate is still much in our hands," Verdandi reminded.
"As recompense for your intent to take this child's life we intend to take your son's life," Skuld stated simply.
Odin paused and stared at the Norns. It was clear to him that they would require penance for his actions. "What must I do?"
"Take the child and raise him as your own son," Urdr instructed.
"I cannot take a Jotun child back to Asgard!" Odin protested.
"You have taken the one soul that loved and protected him away. To leave him amongst his kin would be to condemn him to death. You will take him, raise him as your own, and treat him well," Verdandi commanded.
Odin looked as if he wanted to refuse, but after a moment, conceded and held out his arms begrudgingly to take the infant. Skuld passed over the baby, and Odin noticed just how small he really was. The child was not much bigger than an Aesir infant. He understood why his kin would not keep him; to be a runt Jotun was likened to being born horribly disfigured. Despite himself, he felt a small spark of pity flicker in his heart momentarily. To his surprise, the child turned warm to his touch and began to lose his Jotun color.
"Who is this child?" he asked the Norns.
"He is Loki, Laufey's son, now to be called Odinson," Skuld said.
Odin nodded, mounted his horse, and wrapped the child in the folds of his cloak wordlessly. Laufey's son… perhaps this child could be of use to him one day.
As he turned to leave the temple Urdr called out to him, "We will be watching you, All Father. Should you fail to uphold your end of the bargain we will be well within our rights to act as we see fit."
All of Asgard celebrated, and the walls of every building seemed to ring with triumph. The war was finally over, the Jotuns had been defeated, and everyone felt as if a thick, choking veil had been lifted from the realm. It was heartening, and as the victorious soldiers marched to the palace for the great feast their mood brightened by the minute. They were all blinded by the joy of victory; none had thought to ask the All Father what he kept tucked underneath his cloak.
Odin wished he could join them in their carefree celebration, but the small, sleeping bundle tucked in the crook of his arm was a constant reminder of the prices paid during the war. This troubled him, for such thoughts normally would have been pushed aside the instant he beheld his golden realm again. The smile on his face was forced to be so cheerful. He was conflicted. How could he explain to Frigga that he had returned with a Jotun child because he slaughtered his mother?
He still had not made up his mind when he entered his throne room to find his queen waiting in her place on the throne. She rose to meet him with a radiant smile on her face. It only fell a little when she took in his injury.
"It is good that you have returned and brought peace to the realms," she said, her fingers raising to barely brush the fabric of the bandage over Odin's missing eye.
"It is good to be back, triumphant from war," he replied, embracing her with one arm.
"What is under your cloak?" Frigga asked, fearing to find a maimed or missing limb.
Odin pulled his cloak away and exposed the sleeping infant. Frigga gasped softly and reached for the sleeping child.
"How?" she asked, taking the child and gently examining him for injuries. To her relief the child was unscathed and continued to sleep deeply.
"He is Jotun," Odin began to explain, deciding on what story to tell, "I found him abandoned amongst the ruins of the temple…"