Disclaimer: I own nothing...le sigh...well ok, I have a handful of OC's but they are halfway altered legends...
Summary: Post Avengers: AoU, with the mind stone no longer connected to the Scepter...someone is very upset and looking to kill. But it looks like that's not happen since the number one target has left the building. And the Avengers are going to need everyone they can find to stop the oncoming threat.
Chapter One
Xxx
Time had no meaning...not anymore at least...hours...days...months...years…
It meant nothing to him, there was only the darkness, the emptiness, the hopelessness...and the pain.
Something growled to his left...or maybe it was his right...he couldn't tell anymore. Couldn't open his eyes to see the visitor to his cell, couldn't determine his position, he could be upside down and not be aware of it for all he cared.
He just wanted it to end…
There was nothing for him anymore...no will, no power, no hope...nothing…
Yet his heart kept beating painfully in his chest, straining to keep his dying body alive when all he wanted was to give up. Wanted to just die…
That would never happen, He wouldn't let that happen...death wasn't an option until he was no longer of any use, and since now all he was a source of viable entertainment, there was no hope of his worthless existence ever coming to an end.
He never should have let it get this far. This could have been prevented...he'd learned so long ago to keep his emotions in check, that to act without thinking just because rage and jealousy and guilt had clouded his mind was downright childish to him.
Why did he ever let go?
Xxx
It could have been a day, a year, or a century the next time something changed about his existence. Unnatural light flooded his cell, and he cringed against the sudden change to the pitch black he'd been in for so long. Two sets of rough hands grabbed his arms, eliciting hisses of pain as the shackles were undone and he was dropped to the floor. He didn't fight it, there was no use in fighting.
The antechamber was full again when he was dragged to the center arena and dropped in front of the reason behind all his pain. The two who brought him quickly scurried away, bowing to their master as He finally turned to the almost dead prisoner.
Always on the brink of death...never actually dying…
"Look at you...my little puppet...how you have disappointed me…" Once that voice had promised power and a throne, had promised eternity...now the deep growl promised endless pain and despair, he shuddered, unable to bit back the faint keen in his throat as a thick boot slammed into his ribs, shifting the pair that had completely broken last time and cracking another even further. One of these sessions he was going to end up drowning in his own blood, again, and the resulting choking would be just as painful as the subsequent beatings because of yet another failure...this one for not being able to heal and endure the torture.
His magic was long gone...bound and locked deep within, anything that filtered past the double layers of bindings and control was all that was left to keep his heart beating and mind all too aware of what was going on. How he wished to go insane and just exist...no longer able to think through and remember every single moment of pain.
He was speaking again, regaling the roaring and shrieking crowd with His might and conquests, His plans for the future, and the fate of his prisoner.
There was no reason to listen in, he'd heard this speech a thousand times over, the only thing that ever changed was what exactly would be done to him this time...it varied depending on His moods.
The Other sneered off to one side, six fingered hands shifting their grip on a long handle, the metal wrapped in cracking leather from a Bilgesnipe's hide. Oh great...whipping day...the long coil hidden behind the Other's draping cloak was barbed with jagged hooked spikes, sometimes poisoned, sometimes not...either way he was in for a long session this time.
Something in him shifted, deep in his core, at first it was like he was about to vomit...but then he remembered there was absolutely nothing in his body to throw up. The strange feeling was slowly growing, as if trying to take over his body and do something that was likely going to hurt.
No...not hurt…heal…
If anyone saw his broken ribs snap back into place, still cracked and throbbing but no longer at risk of puncturing a lung...they didn't show it. Yet the instant that happened he stretched his weak essence out to the feeling and grabbed hold of it, clamping it down to prevent it from taking over.
He assessed it, weak and brittle, but also urgent and growing. A sharp shout from the crowd made him flinch instinctively, and kept His attention away, time….he needed time…
But how? How could this happen? His jailer had laced his entire being with binding spells and blocks and controls to the point even his mind was no longer his own, trapped within His power...on top of that after his disaster of an invasion and attempting to complete his task...the Allfather had bound what little was left of him even further, he'd used up his meager extras on Svartalfheim. He was nothing…
Where was this coming from?
"...now then! Come here little puppet! Time to make you dance!"
Only this time, the icy burning did not take over his limbs and force his broken form over to the stanchion where he would be strung up exactly like a puppet and made to dance with the crack of the whip.
And by dance he meant thrash in the chains in horrible pain.
This time, he refused to move.
That earned a sharp glare, the ice blue eyes narrowing marginally as his jailer stalked closer, "Get up."
Again he didn't move.
"Get. Up."
"N-no…"
"What?"
"N-no...No!" Where he was getting this confidence, he had no idea, but judging by the murderous glare as his jaw was caught by the thick purple skinned hand and jerked up.
"What did you say?" Thanos growled, fingers gripping tighter.
"No." He repeated stupidly, eyes widened in shock as he stared at the left hand of the Titan, no longer was purple skin visible, now the fist was encased in ethereal gold that glistened and glowed with it's own light versus the ugly glow this rock had.
The Infinity Gauntlet…
Uh oh…
Thanos tossed him aside, roaring in rage once he saw where his prisoner was looking, "See what I have done little puppet! The gauntlet is just the beginning, now you will finish what you started and-"
Ok...suddenly stopping mid speech wasn't normal, and he looked up to see Thanos staring down at him, hand up as if to orchestrate his movements like a puppeteer. Only no matter how the Titan's fingers flicked or twisted, nothing happened to his prisoner's body. It remained hunched on the ground, trembling from pain and exhaustion, but no longer controlled by the might of the destructive being.
A roar ripped from Thanos' throat, the sound echoing in the antechamber as realization dawned on both the titan and his shocked captive.
"This cannot be! Where are your bindings you pathetic mage?! What have you done?!"
He couldn't answer, still reeling with the knowledge that his invisible chains were no longer binding him to this place, he was free…
Thanos roared again, his own magic reaching out as if to try and capture his essence again. He reacted instinctively like had since he was very young, only unlike when he was a toddler, the shield he flung up wasn't flimsy and flickering, this was solid and strong, the two powers colliding with a resounding note of pure discordance that rang out and made everyone cringe.
He grimaced, trying to maintain the shield so he could stand up safely and face his captor like he should.
There was only one explanation for this...Thanos had been in possession of the Mind Stone long before he'd landed in front of him...almost literally.
The control had been both mental and physical, few of his actions were his own...all carefully planned and sculpted to hide the fact from even the most perceptive. Not that it mattered...no one knew…
But now...something had gone horribly wrong, for Thanos that is. His control was gone...nothing tied the Titan to his puppet nor the puppet to his master in turn. Meaning something had happened to the scepter he had been given, the mind stone no longer connecting to Thanos and therefore breaking all binds the Titan had.
A grin tried to stretch across his face, coming out more of a disgusting grimace with the motley of bruises and bleeding scrapes.
"No…"
Thanos could do nothing as he backed up a step, and then another, keeping distance between the two as even if magic was now off the table, there was plenty of physical damage that could still be done.
He'd had it...enough was enough…
"Fine then," Thanos sneered angrily, hands balling into fists as he jerked his chin towards a set of Chitauri cowering in a corner, "You are obviously of no use to me any longer."
Nothing would erase what had happened since his capture, nothing would erase the pain and abuse…
Yet, nothing also would erase his eyes seeing a flash of blonde as Thanos yelled for the next prisoner to be brought in, pointing at him to 'be disposed of'. Thanos roared in anger as he finally let the feeling that had been swelling within him loose.
The sharp shriek the flash of blonde let out would likely haunt him for a long time...and he had no idea why. But the look of pure rage stretching across Thanos' face as he tried to grab his prisoner was hilarious.
It didn't matter...it was too late…
Loki was gone.