Summary: The war between Jotunheim and Asgard draws to a close, but thanks to a horrible twist of Fate (or perhaps not), the nameless runt of Laufey-King is not discovered by Odin and so begins a remarkable journey of life that should not have been. Jotun!Loki AU. Set pre-/during-/after Thor/Avengers Assemble. MCU-verse only.
Warnings: ANGST! Loki-whump! Language, adult situations, violence, child abuse, dub-con, sexual assault (also of a minor), substance abuse, one abortion scene (sort of), slavery, sex trade (maybe), some mild original character/Loki M/M pairings.
Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome.
Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.
A few things. Exciting things!
First, as usual! A HUGE THANKS to people who chatted and reviewed my last chapter! I'm so encouraged! Thanks to Lady Ray Ray, DragonsFlame117, Winter Cicada, ClaMiAl, Ireland Ranger, wbss21, Guest (welcome~!), MikoHatome, FrostElfSlytherin (hi~)!
To Guest: I'm not sure about Mystique - in the movies, it seemed like she was regulated to humanoid shifting - but I think my Loki could eventually (not yet) shift into other things. We'll see... I'm glad you are cool with his shape-shifting abilities. They don't get a lot of mention but they are there. XD Maybe I'll have to mention it in another fight scene or something... Hmmm... You've given me brilliant ideas...
Second, be sure to check out my profile. Thanks to merichuel on Tumblr, we've got a new picture of Ulfrbarn! Really awesome!
NO, SERIOUSLY, CHECK IT OUT.
Third, have you seen Tom Hiddleston with Cookie Monster? DELAYED GRATIFICATION! (that's what my writing style is all about~!) (haha) But man... I wanted to be Cookie Monster, literally oozing all over Tom Hiddleston's arm. (sigh)
A bridge kind of chapter - but with some important info in it! Keep an eye out!
Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]
Chapter 37
What Seasons May Bring
[...summer gives way to autumn...]
[...green turns to gold and red...]
[...and then the winter comes...]
[...white, marching down the mountainsides...]
[...thus, seasons pass...]
[...and time...]
In some ways, everything had changed. No longer did Kol'la rise before the sun under aged wood rafters among the rising heat and stink of horses and alongside the other unwashed, disgustingly cheerful stable-hands – stable-hands content with their lot in life and never raising their eyes to the beckoning horizons.
[...to the busy skies of Asgard...]
[...the Great Blue calling...]
No longer did Kol'la work with the large, gentle mares and feisty stallions of the King's Royal Stables. No longer did Commander Farfin bellow his name in his usual annoyed growl, which often held undertones of good-humoured long-suffering.
No, all this had passed. Time had brought change, wrought change.
No longer was Kol'la clad in the standard course brown, black and green cloth of the stables, but now he wore, daily, the blue and pale creams of the Apprentice's uniform. There was a dark black stocking cap, the blue and pale cream tunic over top a cream undershirt with blue interwoven armlets and below, black breeches with polished black, knee-high boots. Over top and across his blue-clothed chest, Kol'la slung a small satchel, perfect for storing herbs, stones or small notebooks, and a smaller dagger scabbard attached to his slender set of leather belts hung at his other side.
Time brought a later wake-up call – a quieter one as the far away clang of the Bell rang out, announcing breakfast. Passing through the quadrants and the great, grey halls, there was only the quiet shuffle of feet and the sonorous chanting of various higher level Acolytes as they tended to the straight rows of flourishing herbs and plants under their care. Songs of blessings and melodies of tender workings which encouraged the flowers and greenery to grow to their fullest potential.
Time brought Kol'la better meals, finer clothing and more intelligent company, as teachers and fellow Healers, Acolytes and serious-minded Apprentices welcomed the newcomer into their fold – carefully yet warmly. The Mage Archives was the regular haunt of Kol'la, the quiet spot where he browsed the rare scripts of spells and various workings long recorded by mages before. The halls too encouraged thought as men and women congregated in dimly lit corners, voices appropriately hushed as they discussed various theories on what transpired during some spell or on the particular workings of some herb or crystal. On rare occasions, a sharp voice rose in heated debate – and echoed along the arched halls and pillars – and then, all conversation would cease as heads would turn to peer at the one who had disturbed the peace.
Upon inhaling the familiar, musky scent of ancient scripts and well-tended books, at first Kol'la thought that he had finally arrived in the place he could call home. This is it, he had sighed to himself with pleasure as long fingers trailed over the worn books neatly ordered upon the long bookshelves. However, as time passed on, Kol'la began to slowly realize that in some ways, things had never changed at all.
The Aesir remained, as always, uninterested in expanding their magical arts. As Kol'la searched through the various tomes, revelling in ancient knowledge from the Nine Realms and beyond, the young scholar came to realize that his fellow classmates showed no such interest. None of them seemed to be inspired by or excited about the practical side of spell-casting: shields, summoning, projection of self and the enforcement of will upon material things. Bound by the standards of the King's Court, the Mages were consistently placed in limited positions of power, unable to show their true strengths – and happy, for the most part, to remain thus.
Once again, Kol'la found himself defending his studies against Thor's careless words. Several times, they came to blows in and out of the arena. Within the arena constrained by Asgard's stifling strictures, the battles rarely ended well for Kol'la, reminding him once again how easy it was to fail oneself and the expectations of others. After one such exchange, Kol'la tore away from his close friend and stormed off into the heart of the Mage's Court, the largest archives with handy corners within which to hide, the place he knew Thor could not penetrate. There, within the comforting silence, hours seemed to pass by like years.
[...and so time passes...]
[...but some things never change...]
[...the world immutable...]
[...eternally golden Asgard...]
"Your studies..." Odin's voice broke into Kol'la's thoughts one early evening, jolting the young, dark-haired Apprentice out of a particularly focused look at a treatise about the Ways, the Hidden Paths between the worlds. Aged fingers wandered over the dark maroon, blue and black covers of the books which Kol'la had laid out, opened to various chapters on long-distance travel through the Void. The single, weary eye flitted over the words and the old King's fingers traced the page lightly. "These are..." He trailed off.
Kol'la rose cautiously, green eyes watching the powerful older man – the one called Odin All-Father, who stood before him in simple dark leathers and little decorations in the way of gold. It was a relaxed look and was nowhere near as bright and glorious as the armour the Asgardian King usually wore in his Court. White hair fell over broad shoulders and an equally well-groomed beard fell neatly down to the All-Father's chest.
"Agaeti is an aged man," Odin sighed and started again. "We are all aged men." He nodded and then shook his head. "As time passes, as I watch my son grow tall and wiser with the years, I know it even more. We have aged and time demands we pass on what we know to those whose paths run into the future."
The young, dark-haired Apprentice did not reply, but, fingers flexing slightly over his notes as if protective of his ideas, he watched the King respectfully. A smile crossed Odin's face as he took in the wide-shouldered, well-set stance. Kol'la was not afraid as most would be in his position.
"Agaeti is an aged man," the King repeated, "and the young ones, such as you, are the ones to whom we look – your talents and skills are what Asgard needs... I knew that from the first day I saw you."
"I am glad," Kol'la finally said, neutrally.
"But you are not happy," Odin stated. "Not entirely."
Kol'la hesitated, then admitted: "There are moments..." He paused, uncertainly.
"Speak, son," Odin replied softly. "This will be for my ears alone."
Kol'la nodded slowly and then reluctantly added, "There are moments when I feel the stifling heat of Asgard more strongly." Another pause. "More strongly than other days."
"Yes. The burden of youth is freedom. The burden of age is responsibility." Odin circled about to take a seat opposite of where Kol'la had been sitting. Slowly Kol'la followed suit, green eyes never shifting from Odin's single blue one. "It is a difficult passage – for some of us, more difficult than others. There are days when I think of the future and wonder if it is as inevitable as my good wife believes, particularly in regards to my son. My son, who, I am to understand, has taken you into his confidences."
At those words, Kol'la's fingers slowly interwove together and settled with carefully constructed calm on top of the pages of notes before him. His gaze shifted to some place over Odin's left shoulder, eyes carefully blank and revealing nothing.
"I do not wish you to break that trust," Odin hastened to add. "Merely to take upon your shoulders a serious charge – which you may take as extension of my trust, for you have become a great practitioner of seithr and strategy, upholding my son during many of your... misadventures."
"Your Highness -"
"It is that you continue what you have started – to hold onto this kinship, to watch his steps when the path grows dark and to speak your mind as is necessary. To your own heart and commonsense, be true." The aged man caught Kol'la's eye and the younger man bit his lip before glancing down at the notes beneath his slender fingertips.
"I feel you overestimate my abilities to affect your son -"
"I feel I underestimate you more often than I should."
"I am truly not -"
"But I believe you are," Odin smiled encouragingly. "You have curbed many of Thor's excesses and have encouraged him to think a little before he acts."
"Although, there have been many times I have not been successful -"
"Yes," an indulgent smiled then, "more because you are also prone to mischief as well."
"Perhaps," Kol'la replied grudgingly.
"Nevertheless, it would ease this old man's heart to know that you will continue to stand at my son's side to the best of your abilities."
"You trust me to be a friend?"
"No," Odin said after a moment, his words measured and heavy as stones sinking into the serenity of the stillness between them. "No. I trust you to be a brother."
Kol'la's head jerked then a little, as if he had been burned and his fingers tightened a little around the feathered quill atop the cream papers. Green eyes widened, glistened and then grew distant as if remembering something.
"Brother," he finally said, neutrally, but the word was filled with a thousand unspoken questions.
"Have you a brother?" Odin asked.
-0-0-0-
Inhale.
Brother. The word brought up a name almost immediately: Helblindi. Elska's few words spent on King Laufey and the Royal Family. A faceless Mother, an unknown Father, and a brother – a brother I know. He knew now – a brother who could not be. Where there other brothers? He did not know. Do not need to know. Or so I thought... Brother. Family. What was family but expectation and eventual disappointment? Surely that cannot be what Odin desires for Thor – unless I am the useful fodder, the necessary foil... Brother.
Exhale.
"A brother?" Kol'la's voice sounded distant and cold to his own ears. "No."
A silence. The candle flickered and Odin said nothing for a moment, but Kol'la did not amend his assertion. Odin nodded slowly and continued:
"I had two brothers – now I have but one..." A sigh. "Time is cruel..." Then: "They are what all kings need: a wife and family. What I have failed to give Thor."
"In matters of love and... well..." Kol'la trailed off delicately, raising an amused eyebrow, "I would not be too concerned on marital matters concerning Thor."
"No," Odin finally cracked a smile. "He reminds me of myself when I was his age. Impetuous, head-strong and too easily swayed by passion. No. It is the other matter. We never were able to give him a sibling, and so he is threatened with the lack of too necessary hard-headed counsel – and someone else to rely on besides whoever allows herself to become his wife."
"He has many friends to rely on – I am..." Kol'la glanced away and then down to his hands and the variety of colour in the feather. "I am no one."
The feathers brushed and then crinkled among his fingers as an older, stronger, callused hand laid on top of his, a warm heat. Kol'la stared blindly down at the King's hands now clasping his. He opened his mouth – and his fingers trembled as he considered pulling away, but Odin's grip tightened just a little as if in reassurance and command.
"Now... that," Odin's voice broke the heavy silence with a quiet murmur, "is a lie."
"I have no one – I am no one," Kol'la stubbornly repeated.
"You have my son's love and loyalty, you have yourself. No matter what name you bear, there is only one of you, and the flow of magicks around you testify to the importance of your existence."
"Your – the Queen, she has – she has seen it," Kol'la said bluntly, a bitter smile crossing his face. "Seen the uses Asgard may have -"
"No," Odin swiftly cut in, "well, yes, there will be good for us – but your star shines just as brightly."
"So it is a treaty then. An agreement. An alignment."
"If you must see it as such," Odin sighed, "then yes."
"To be a... brother..."
"It is our dream for the both of you – to grow together and use what has been given to you to bring peace to the Nine Realms."
"A nameless wanderer and a Prince," Kol'la smiled bitterly. "I think the Nine Realms is in for a world of trouble."
"Perhaps, but I have faith."
"Very well."
"You need not make such a heavy decision so quickly," Odin chuckled then, rising. "Think on it – and I will come another day -"
"No," Kol'la rose as well, shoulders straightening and chin set with determination. "It seems clear to me."
"A quick mind and strong intuition." Odin nodded. "Then I shall see you. Soon."
"Sorry? I shall see you soon?" Kol'la blinked, puzzled.
"For supper," the King smiled. "My wife will be delighted to have you join us." He clapped Kol'la's shoulder absent-mindedly as he passed. "You will not regret it – she will no doubt put some extra effort and make the pastries herself... quite delicious, I think. But then," his smile grew fond, "I may be biased."
With that, Odin left Kol'la standing there in the middle of the small alcove before his precious tomes and careful scrawl of notes and flickering candle which ran with white wax down the iron candlesticks. Standing there in silence – dumb-struck in deep thought, wondering what had really happened.
[...and so time brings changes...]
[...even the Realm Eternal's constant Spirit is stirred...]
[...and the young folk strike out to find their fortunes...]
[...meet their fates...]
Fall followed summer again, bringing autumnal colours of red and gold and orange and purple – and the hounds howled in the crisp, cool air as the foxes sped home through the bristly underbrush and icy cold rivers tumbling down from the mountains. Fields now full of ripe corn and wheat and orchards hanging thick with other delicious things were swiftly harvested. Magical spells for agriculture and other remedies for health kept the healers and alchemists busy – and Kol'la found himself embroiled in a particular spell for fire-based shields against wild wolves which could be easily erected by lower-level Apprentices for the benefits of the villagers living in the outer limits of the cities and towns.
Winter fell heavily – thick, white snow laying over the hard grown like a warm blanket. Kol'la enjoyed the cool air, often volunteering to take the necessary journeys out to the smaller towns of Harrborg and Villrborg in order to deliver various potions, remedies or create practical workings for the townsfolk. On those days, he took Snjar out, inhaling the sharp air, feeling more alive than ever. Revelling in the silences, Kol'la enjoyed the quiet quests out to the further reaches of Asgard. They were not usual quests such as Thor enjoyed – and if at times Kol'la left Asgard all together in his slowly expanding exploration of the Dark Ways and the Untrodden Paths through the Void, that was for his knowledge alone.
Discussing the variety of ways one could travel between worlds – between Space and Time – with his fellow Apprentices (and then, Acolytes), Kol'la began to realize that most were only too happy to rely on the good graces of Heimdall and the glory of the Bifrost. The Hidden Paths, the Untrodden Paths, the Dark Way was dangerous, they said, and best left to the elves and other desperate folk of the Nine Realms. Raised eyebrows, dark insinuations and the shaking of heads were signals enough to the cautious Kol'la, and he never raised the subject with his colleagues or teachers again.
So, the years passed by calmly enough, filled with short quests for the Mage's Court or longer quests, protecting Thor's back. Interspersed were long periods of study, in which Kol'la grew in knowledge by leaps and bounds. He began to study as an Acolyte, speeding through his studies with enviable speed. Whispers often followed him down the halls as he stalked past, blue tunic fluttering, head in a book. The Jotun's sharp ears could hear their discontent and envy at the insouciant way in which he treated the Crown Prince when the young warrior came to visit (and it was often). How the Prince honestly looked bored and disinterested in any of the goings-on within the Mage's Court – until Kol'la showed up with his heavy glares, sharp tongue, wicked smile and penchant for mischief.
Of all the Mages, Mage Smithra, Healer Gjalla, and Mage Flarathir were most disapproving of the carefree Acolyte. At least once a week, if Kol'la was not out on some quest or errand for High-Mage Agaeti or Odin, the Healer or two Mages were castigating the young mage for some supposed misdemeanour in the hall. The fact that they could not exactly pin the mischief on Kol'la angered them more. No matter what demeaning chore they gave him (from washing bed-pans to laying out compost on the gardens to scrubbing pots in the kitchens), Kol'la's serene expression and calm responses gave them no grounds for further punishment.
Kol'la, after all, knew that their suspicions did have some foundation. Among the other students and newcomers to the Court, he had gained a reputation not only for magical prowess but also a penchant for mischief and trickery – and cool, unnerving ability to take risks. A live fire, Mage Smithra once had ranted in the Upper Mage Council, that will burn out of control. Odin, however, would not be gainsaid – and so, Mage Flarathir shook his head as he watched Kol'la dragged once again away from his studies to stumble after Thor, complaining loudly about "not wishing to get involved in yet another meaningless brawl for some strumpet".
"She is no strumpet," Thor was saying. "The lady in question is seeking your favour, Kol'la! Be reasonable!"
"I have no interest in the woman, Thor! Unhand me!"
"Kol'la – keep this up and your reputation will be set in stone – as some kind of -"
"Some kind of what?" Kol'la jerked out of Thor's grasp and glared at his shieldmate stonily. "I dare you to finish that sentence."
Thor sighed.
"Listen, I know you like girls – you remember that one whore on Sharda'aa -"
"Do not speak about Glo-Glo in such a manner – she was -"
"She was no lady, Kol'la. I know you have just come from that whole thing with Kayra -"
"There was no thing, dou'ma!"
"That is not what she told everyone at the feast!"
"She is merely some envious Healer who did not like the fact that my working was more effective than her year-long studies and I would not pay attention to her useless prattling - or the fact that I repayed in her malice in kind -"
"I swear, Kol'la, the way you treat women -"
"What about the manner in which they treat me?"
"Well," Thor rolled his eyes and shoved Kol'la before him as they left the main gates of the Mage's Court and out and down the broad road, "you merely have to learn how to behave around them – how to curb them – and what better way to show your prowess than through combat?"
"For you, it always comes round to combat," Kol'la replied sourly. "You are always forcing me to train in the 'arts of war', Thor, and forcing me to fight – as though I care about gaining renown by wrestling like some dumb beast in the mud."
"Kol'la, this is not just about renown," sighed the Crown Prince as they made their way through the busy streets of the centre of the capital. "It is about how the others see you – you know what they say."
"I care not what they say," Kol'la replied quickly, daring Thor to disagree.
"Well, you do not want to be considered a weakling ALL the time, do you?"
"It makes for an element of surprise – and why they consider me ergi just because of my slight build or the fact that I am a seithrmaster is beyond me. Just because I am a sorcerer or attend classes at the Mage's Court does not make me less of a – a – a man, or a person!"
"But there is no honour to be had in such underhanded dealings and tricks -"
"Say that again the next time you need my aid in battle," Kol'la jabbed at Thor viciously in the arm. "Say it!"
Thor just laughed and shook his head, brushing off Kol'la's remarks and disagreements easily. He could always laugh – and Kol'la found a great urge overcome him to crush the ignorant Prince. Some things, he sighed, never change. I will never be able to change him... This is a lost cause – and if I am unable, who will be?
It was a worrisome thought. In the Eternal Realm, trouble stirs just as easily as elsewhere. Kol'la began to understand a little better what haunted Odin and kept the King up so late at night. Eternal we are... and yet we feel as though time is too easily spent.
Time, Kol'la mused, is running out.
Yep. There we have it. Another step for Kol'la to take. Another step... What happens next... HM? A conversation of epic/silly proportions. Frigga in the next chapter! YAY! And family dinner time. Yes. I hope it turns out OK.
But some bad news... Kol'la won't be Loki until... maybe Chapter 43 or something like that. I had to break up a few chapters, so yeah... SORRY! But he is coming. I've almost gotten to the moment! (gasp~!)
Because of things I've had to add and stuff, this story will now reach 75 chapters. Hopefully it won't expand anymore...
Also, I've decided what to do with those side-story ideas! HA! As thanks for being splendid reviewers, every now and then, for special occasions, I will email a side story to those who review. When I'm finished writing the entirety of this story, I will post all the side-stories on FFNET - but only those who have reviewed will have read some of them (not all) beforehand. So if you wanna sneak peek of side-stories, be sure to drop a line. XD
Let me know what you think!
Since this Chapter is shorter, an update will come a little faster... maybe in 4 days... around Wednesday. XD
-KI
Author's Note on Odin: Just want to clarify that Odin has not made Kol'la Thor's brother legally... just saying to be "like a brother" to Thor. For what reason? Well, he has cited some reasons... but be wary! Not all is as it seems... and people LIE! (just like House says)
Author's Note on the Cliffie: It's OK if you are confused since the story is written from Kol'la's perspective and he is confused. However, I did leave a few clues.
1) Odin and his gang hung behind, but they were mounting their horses
2) Kol'la hears Sif mention something about the generals: "Sif was screaming something about the generals"
3) There is a long jet of something like flame: "There was nothing but fire... in a high-powered jet of flame and light."
4) This long jet of flame and light makes something like a ripping, roaring sound: "a ripping, roaring sound"
5) This force moves upward and not only pierces the bandit but also neatly decapitates the Siroyaniu bull neatly (like a lightsaber)
All of these clues together might make sense... maybe not. If not, I added a few sentences in the next update chapter to clarify things. XD
Alien Glossary:
'auzha – fucker
Dou'ma – idiot
r'senk'ne – a kind of deer/cow hybrid
n'ch'nka – a kind of cow
chi'iano – a radioactive piece of rock similar to uranium
cho'ai - lover
kol-sava'atha – a titanium-rich ore
Morning-star - a mace.
oma'auzha – mother-effer
oto'oa - big sister
udji'oo – a drug, like opium
Asgardian Glossary:
seithr - magic
seithrmaster - mage, sorceror
ergi - womanly, weak, "gay"