Disclaimer: Don't own Thor…
Summary: Voygné is an ancient tradition in which two souls are bound together, one to wage war and the other a withheld gift, desired greatly and hard won, meant to bait a warrior to greatness. Unfortunately, Loki has other plans, and they do not include playing glorified doll to an Asgardian prince. Thor/Loki. Slash!
Warnings: Mind-F***ing Children, Possessive!Obsessive!Thor, Loki being Loki, Angst, Dark and anything else I can think of. Anything's fair game so consider yourself warned!
The Voygné Gift
Prologue- Part 1
There is an ancient tradition in Asgard, one that has stretched back to their earliest ancestors and has shaped the greatest warriors in all the nine realms, has bred the most powerful- and most loyal- of Asgardians to serve their kingdom.
Voygné: the taking and giving of the one.
It begins with the choosing of two children, one to be trained in the art of war, the Seeker, the other their reward should they prove themselves worthy in the eyes of the Allfather.
It is the exchange of bonds more precious than any coin.
They are separated, their mark branded upon the breast of the chosen warrior and the back of the Gift, set with forces more binding than a mountain's rest upon the ground or a planet's orbit to its star.
It is a siren's call, the pull that draws them together as nothing else may.
It is a contract thicker than blood.
Then they are separated, mere children losing a dear playmate, a tear shed and soon forgotten.
However, this is only the beginning, and the legacy of Asgard had not been founded upon a single tear.
There will be more than tears shed by the time the Voygné is complete.
The first time he'd seen the younger boy, his thin waist too narrow and his face too pale, hiding behind a servant's skirts, the young Thor had not been impressed and he'd said as much to his father.
He'd been struck for that.
A slight against one so precious, his father had hissed.
Thor had not understood at the time. No. He had barely seen his fifth birthday by this time and he saw naught but a small boy of perhaps three being presented to him with a familiar mark on his back and an equally confused look in his eyes.
Green, he noticed. His eyes were so green.
I want to go home, the younger boy had said, voice small and quivering, holding to the serving maiden's long dress with both hands. I want to see daddy.
Odin had merely nodded his head towards the far door, gesturing for the child to be moved to a different chamber.
When the maiden ushered the young boy towards the door, the boy went willingly, though tears shone so brightly in his eyes.
Thor found his eyes drawn to those tears, unaware of his own actions, staring after the younger boy even after he and the maid had left the room.
Weak, his mind provided him. Protect, a gentler voice whispered to him from the depths of his chest, right below the mark branded so deeply upon him, but so small his consciousness did not hear it. Protect.
As quickly as it came though the voice was gone and he asked his father when they'd eat, because he was still too young to understand and his belly demanded his full attention.
However, the seeds of Voygné had been sown nonetheless and Odin, satisfied, allowed his son this moment.
The second time he saw the younger boy was three weeks after their initial meeting, nothing but a passing glance of midnight black hair held tightly to a maiden's breast, tiny fingers curled into the fabric of her gown.
He found the image lingered behind his eyelids long after they'd gone, sharp and clear as though he were still before him held within the maiden's arms.
When he met his father later that evening, he asked of the boy's name.
You have not earned his name, my son.
Young, and determined to prove his worth, Thor demanded to know how such a name was earned with all the haughtiness of a young prince.
Odin gave him a measuring look, and Thor straightened his back under the scrutiny.
When you can wield a sword your mother shall tell you his name, for even I do not know it. Until then, you are not permitted to speak with the child. Understand?
Thor nodded, though he didn't really understand it, not completely.
Still, he wouldn't give up. He was Thor Odinson after all, and a son of Odin would not be made unworthy by the name of a boy who cried and clung to maiden's skirts.
The next day, he demanded he be trained in the art of sword fighting.
Loki. That was the boy's name, and though Thor didn't know what he would do with it, he was proud to have it nonetheless.
Images of black hair and pale skin and green, green eyes flashed across his mind's eye and he decided that no one else was allowed to have the name. He'd learned to hold a sword and fight to get it after all, and he did not wish to share so freely that which he had had to bleed for.
He told his father as much and was met by a smile of approval, though Odin did express slight disappointment that his son would not share such a precious name with him.
The young Thor would not be moved though and the conversation was dropped.
A name even his father did not know, something known only to his mother and himself, the ultimate secret.
Needless to say, for a child whose father was the King of Gods, to possess something that his all-powerful father did not was like biting into a ripened fruit, plunging into cold waters on a hot day, or slipping under the covers after a hard day of training; refreshing and blissful.
Mine. I earned it. The little voice whispered, but still Thor did not hear it, did not understand the swelling in his chest as he repeated the name over and over in his mind, like a secret he longed to keep to himself and could not forget.
He fell asleep that night pondering the great secret that even his father did not know and he was pleased by it.
Loki. He'd thought, smiling. Loki.
His breast warmed with approval, warmer and warmer each time the name entered his mind, the flesh beneath his mark tingling.
He believed it happiness, and maybe it was, but even as he remembered his father's praise and sighed in contentment at his approval, it was black hair and green eyes that stole across his vision.
Still, he thought little of it and slipped off to sleep, content to be in possession of something so rare and precious as a name even Odin did not know.
The third time he saw the younger boy was also a mere glimpse, the meeting of vivid green and clear blue eyes in the reflection of a passing shield within the boisterous hall's of Asgard as the kingdom celebrated his seventh birthday.
Those eyes had shocked him, ensnared his sight and quickened his heart even after the shield had moved on and the boy was not to be found despite Thor's searching.
Oh, and how Thor had searched. To sate his curiosity, and discover why the sight of those emerald eyes startled him so, he'd searched, and that was perhaps the most powerful drive of all for a child of his nature.
However, no one he'd asked had seen or even knew of a pale boy with bright green eyes and black hair wandering the halls at that time and he would not give any of them the name of the boy, not when he'd worked so hard to get it for himself.
Loki, his mind provided for him, as though thinking the name itself would summon the boy to his sight.
He felt a strange weight settle in his chest when he realized he could not find him.
The weight only grew as time passed.
Was it really so strange that he kept seeing Loki no matter where he went? Was it coincidence? A test? A prank? He was not sure, but with each passing glance of that fluttering black hair or pale, glowing skin he found himself chasing after it, only to be met by nothing, empty space where once the child had been passing with his hand held tightly by a serving maiden, or worse, he'd happened upon the closing of a door that he could not enter.
It was so frustrating.
Finally, after months of trying and failing to catch elusive Loki, Thor approached his father and requested a meeting with the boy, claiming he was curious as to the boy's origins and person, which he was- how could he not be when he sees him and hears his name in his head so often- and that he would like to extend a hand of friendship to the boy.
Odin looked upon him with a knowing eye, a look Thor did not yet understand, before he spoke. My son, he began, you have earned his name but have not earned the right to his company. He gestured towards the doors. Go and bring me the eye of a wild red boar of the forest so that you may offer it as proof of your valor. You may take only a spear with you.
Thor nodded in acceptance, but still he let his curiosity be known. Father. Why must I always prove my worth before him? What is it that has made him worthy of such significance?
Once more, Odin looked upon his son with searching eyes, before finally he seemed to find what he sought and let a smile curve his dry, cracking lips.
Slowly, he came to stand before his son, looking down into the face of his child as only a parent seeing their young one take great leaps towards adulthood can
It is time I told you of your Gift, and the origin of that mark. A slow, piercing stare lingered for the briefest of moments on his son before Odin was walking away and Thor was following obediently. And also what that boy is to you.
Excited and curious, Thor could hardly keep himself from sprinting before his father and embracing him with all the might his young arms could conjure.
He was finally going to know why the name is so important.
Loki.
AN: I know the fic's a bit sketchy on some details, and Loki's all but nonexistent at the moment, but trust me when I say it's all part of the plot! Loki WILL be showing up for a MAIN appearance and left out details will show up later in the plot to make it more dramatic! This is merely an Prologue after all.
Please review and tell me whether or not this is worth continuing…