Chapter Eleven: Divided City

Loki sat in silence, watching the other god tinker. He seemed to favor working on multiple projects at once, moving around the large room quickly and effortlessly. The Tesseract was outside of its Cradle again. Periodically Stark would pause and touch it, shifting runes on it or merely letting his magic glide over it.

Loki was drowning in curiosity, but tried to subdue the feeling. He knew that it would take time for the other god to trust him enough to divulge the function of the Tesseract.

Instead he tried focusing on imbuing the threads from afar. He could sense them as if they were a part of himself, which in a way they were. It was only in his body that his active magic resided. Now his body just had a new part, woven threads.

It was very strange to consider something so small and trivial as a part of himself, but now they were and he felt fiercely protective of them. He hadn't been this attached to an inanimate object since his first dagger.

The feeling gave Loki a better idea on why Stark had been so angry that someone had messed with the Tesseract. He had no doubt that whoever removed it from Asgard was now very much dead.

To have a part of him warped against his will, Loki knew the feeling all too well. It was no small wonder that Stark had been angry at Thanos.

Stark suddenly paused mid spell. Loki cocked his head to the side. The red energy dissipated from his hands and the strange noises of the machines and items Stark was working with silenced.

"It seems I have another reason I should be annoyed with you." Stark said as the items around him whirred back to life.

"What did I do this time?" He hated being blamed for things that weren't his fault.

"My cube on Jotunheim was damaged recently, within the last three years. I hadn't noticed till just now."

"I had no intentions of harming your property."

"Yeah, you just wanted to destroy the whole realm."

"I was misguided and naïve." Loki really didn't want to discuss this, but he saw no way around it.

"I know. That's the only reason you're still alive."

"You would dispose of me so easily?" He felt a weight settle in the pit of his stomach. Was he always so easily dismissed?

"You misunderstand, godling. Your mind wasn't the only one I entered. Thanos would have had you tortured then fed to his dogs if you were how you are now. He wanted a puppet, but you are no longer fit to be one." Stark waved dismissively, turning back to one of his projects. "Once I am finished with this I'll be leaving for Jotunheim. You should come with me and see the damage you have done."

"I do not think that is a wise idea."

"You can't hide from your past."

"That is not why I don't want to go. Have you forgotten that I'm trying to avoid imprisonment and torture?"

"I doubt anyone will recognize you, let alone figure out who you are. Besides I know the tenor of your magic. So long as I know which realm you're in I can find you easily." Stark glanced at the Tesseract before fusing it back with the Cradle and displacing it. "Weren't you talking earlier about building some good will? I might know a few spells that will repair some of the destruction you caused."

"I doubt the All-Father would see it as good will, helping his age old enemies."

"He didn't want you to destroy their whole realm. He must have his reasons. I'm fairly certain that the All-Father will see you helping a realm you hindered as a good thing."

"Fine. How long will the trip be?"

"Less than a day if things aren't too chaotic. I'll go in a Jotun form to make things a bit simpler." Loki glanced backwards as he heard a shuffling noise. Ms. Cook was walking in with clothing under her arm and two plates in her hands. She gave her usual smile as she set the items down. "Eat up. Food on Jotunheim is notoriously bland."

Loki slowly ate, not wanting to think about the coming trip. His first trip to Jotunheim had more or less been a disaster even if it was of his own making. In the back of his head he was still fighting between what he had been taught about frost giants in Asgard and the information in the book he read. He was still not certain which category he belonged to: monster or merely as imperfect as all the other immortals.

A part of him hoped that he would find the acceptance there that he never got on Asgard. According to the book Pepper had given him Jotun society was disbursed, only yielding to the authority of their religious leaders. That called into question any birthright he may have had if there was technically no monarchy on the planet.

He wasn't a prince of Asgard. He wasn't a prince of Jotunheim. He was just a mage who had fallen through the Void and attacked a realm, possibly a footnote in the annals of history at most. On the other hand he apparently had some sort of connection with Ragnarök, so there's that.

Loki was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the older god shift into a Jotun form, a good two feet taller than Loki.

"You'll stand out if you're that short." Stark said, no inflection in his tone, just stating a fact. "Can you shape shift or use a glamour? If not Pepper is upstairs and illusions are her specialty."

"No, I can shape shift. Just give me a moment. I've never tried to be a…" Loki shook his head.

"Alright, I'm going to grab a few things from upstairs. The elevator is using an express protocol so you won't run into anyone. Just head up when you're ready." Stark ducked slightly under the doorframe as he left, seemingly comfortable in his new form.

Loki pictured himself and his now familiar blue features as he stripped out of his Aesir clothes. He did a quick measurement of the Jotun clothes that had been left for him. Shape shifting was one of his specialties though he rarely got a chance to utilize it. He rolled his shoulders a few times and tried to relax. Slowly his body shifted, his limbs growing longer and a bit bulkier. His spine stretched upwards, taking his ribs with them. For good measure he changed his facial features a bit, but couldn't bring himself to change the pattern on his skin. For some reason he rather liked them, now that they didn't invoke disgust.

After inspecting himself and being pleased with the results Loki put on the simple leather loincloth that dipped down the front and back, yet left the sides of legs completely exposed. He clasped on the velvet black cape, appreciating the golden chain used to fasten it in place.

A stray thought left him curious if this is the sort of thing he would have usually worn if he had never been taken from Jotunheim. He let the thought pass, not wanting to dwell on such matters.

Loki quickly decided that he didn't like being this tall. He could already tell that it would hinder is versatility and slow him down.

His head just barely touched the top of the elevator and he wondered if his long hair would be acceptable in Jotun culture. He had not considered the locks, really hadn't had the time to, since before everything happened.

The longer hair made him feel even less like who he used to be, but he that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Stark was idly spinning a war axe in his hand, the same one he had come back with bloodied. Loki assumed it must be his weapon of choice, contrasting greatly with the Iron Man suit that had projectile-based weapons. He let the axe fly and dance in the air for an instant before catching it left handedly.

"Just a few more things and we'll look like proper Jotuns." Stark said while performing a displacement spell with only one hand, impressing Loki. A slew of golden ornaments appeared. Stark handed Loki his axe to hold while he clasped a necklace on Loki, his fingers brushing the base of his neck. Loki was slightly miffed with the distant clinical look in the older god's eyes as he laced thin golden chains around Loki's waist, having them hang down the front of the loincloth.

"I am uncertain that they wear these sorts of things. On my single visit they did not have so much jewelry on."

"Those Jotuns were in the military. We're going to a city and a temple." Stark said while adorning himself. Loki handed him back his axe.

"Should I bring a weapon?" Loki asked, idly wondering where exactly his staff was.

"No, this is more of a… calling card. I expect we won't run into much trouble." He brushed a thumb over the edge of the axe, careful not to cut himself. "If you want to bring one Pepper said that Jotuns tend to favor the long-spear." Another one handed displacement spell, an ornate spear appearing. "Here." Stark handed it to him and Loki tested its balance while admiring its craftsmen ship. The shaft was of dimpled uru that would easily be mistaken for a lesser material. The base was slightly larger with a knob of silver and the blade looked positively wicked. The edge seemed to catch the light on the curved blade that hooked at the very end. "I wouldn't recommend toting that one around though. Most Jotun don't carry weapons."

"Then why give it to me. I have my own stock of weapons."

"True, but they're all Aesir weapons I'd assume." Loki pictured his own spear. It was definitely not as long as this one and reeked of Asgard.

"Point taken. How are we traveling? Is there a branch of the tree nearby or do you have other means?" Teleportation between realms could kill a mage who lacked enough magic. Very few had enough skill to perform such an act.

"Have you forgotten that I made the Bifrost?" Stark pulled out a golden ball from his bag, no larger than his own hand. He brushed his thumb against the rough surface, activating a spell Loki didn't recognize before dropping it between them. Loki was not prepared for what happened next.

He could no longer sense his own body. It was as if it never existed. Yet he could feel everything, he was a part of everything. The distinction between him and every other being blurred. He wanted to weep. He wanted to chuckle.

Most of all Loki wanted to feel like this forever, to never be alone again, to be a part of everything, thus actually being something instead of just the one who fell-

And then it was over.

The ball bounced on impact with the icy terrain and Stark caught it, quickly putting the object back away.

"That was… very unexpected." Loki said, at a loss for words.

"I've been told it gives people a new perspective."

"Yes, that describes it perfectly. I do believe that my next attempt at imbuing active magic will be much more successful."

"Good, just don't get lost. If you put too much of yourself into an inanimate object you'll die." Stark tapped the spot on his chest where the ball of magic must have been hidden. Loki nodded in understanding before surveying his surroundings.

They were a few miles away from a large city. It almost looked like a mirage and he snorted when he realized it was a silver city, a fitting contrast to the golden one he had grown up in.

The landscape was speckled with low shrubs with waxy, dark green leaves. There were a few houses that seemed to jut out of the ice between them and the city.

What was most fascinating was the road they had landed on. Not surprisingly it was made of ice, which his bare feet easily treaded on. Instead of a simple outline to lead the way figures were carved into the road.

"Why would they… surely this road becomes covered every time it snows." Loki said as they started walking towards the city. The images seemed to be playing out some sort of story.

"This part of Jotunheim is a frozen desert. It never snows in this region unless a large storm from the south makes its way over the mountain." Stark said nonchalantly.

Loki glanced at the houses as he passed them by. They were large and made of some sort of dark blue ice.

Through one of the windows (technically just holes in the wall to let in light) he spotted a female Jotun nursing a baby. They made eye contact, red meeting red, and she smiled at him with a nod before going back to watching her swaddled baby.

It was very domestic and Loki didn't really know how to interpret it. He focused back on the road. The images seemed to be about a family with seven children that became distant from each other as they grew older. In turn each of the siblings had some sort of problem they could not solve on their own and ended up going to one of their other siblings for help.

By the time they reached the city the family was back together again and very happy.

The story struck a chord in Loki, which he smothered quickly.

The silver city was a sight to behold. Icy spires thinner than Loki pierced the clear sky. Every building had its own unique design carved on its walls. The contrast from building to building was amazing. They all looked different, yet seemed to work perfectly together.

After gaping in a very uncouth manner Loki noticed that something was wrong with the city.

"Where is everybody?" Loki asked, his voice a whisper in the silent city. Stark frowned, but did not answer, only holding his axe a bit tighter.

Loki kept casting his gaze around, searching for any sort of movement. He wanted to send out a pulse of energy to widen his senses, but knew that could be a bad idea if it hit any destructive inactive magic.

He faltered mid-step.

Destruction.

It was like the city had been cut in half. On one side was the pristine empty city while on the other was a blighted expanse of ice and rubble.

This is what he had done to this realm.

Buildings were destroyed. The ground had gouges deep enough to come up to Loki's waist even in his elongated state. The devastation stretched as far as the eye could see.

Loki could barely breathe as he stared at the line where his attack had come to an abrupt end. Looking to the right- the city was perfect. Looking to the left- only ruin.

A hand on his shoulder made him flinch. Stark pointed and Loki followed the gesture, answering Loki's earlier question. Far in the distance there was a large crowd of Jotuns.

Loki cast a simple spell to temporarily enhance his eyesight.

It was- They were-

He broke down into sobs, not being able to handle it.

Loki was awash with conflicting emotions. He was disgusted with himself for causing such ruin. He hated Odin for ever letting him believe that Jotuns were somehow less than Aesir. Despite that he was infinitely grateful for Odin and Thor stopping his ill advised attack on Jotunheim.

He had done this. First Jotunheim and then Midgard. What would he destroy next? Asgard? Alfheim? Niflhiem?

Strong arms pulled him up and into an embrace.

"Hey, what did I tell you about self-hatred?" Stark said softly while running a hand up and down Loki's back. It only made Loki cry harder. "Come on. Let's go inside. I have a spell or two that may help them out." Loki held on to the older god a moment longer before composing himself.

Stark led him to a half destroyed building and Loki kept his eyes on his feet, unable to handle seeing the countless Jotun working together to repair the damage he had done.