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.

FIRST OFF - I'M SOOOO SORRY! (prostrates self) I have had to break the chapter up yet again. This is bad because that means the truth will be fully out next time... and that means that my perfect number of 75 chapters has truly bitten the dust. (le sigh) It will be longer now... how long, we shall see. (tear) Talk about getting out of control! That being said, as an apology, I will post the third (and final) part sooner than later. Let's hope I find some time on Wednesday to post stuffs. I hope to finish writing the third part within a day or two. (crosses fingers)

It's LIFE, I tell you, that is getting in the way. I'm prepping for final exams which are going to be on Christmas week this year... and also prepping to go home and cleaning my house so that it's neat and less dirty when I go back home for the holidays. Lots of lesson and Christmas party planning ahead as well. . I love Christmas (as you can tell from my other Loki fic, Christmas Magic) - but when you're a teacher, there's this whole added dimension which drives me nuts.

SECONDLY - still have not yet gotten the special reviewer side story done. GOMEN NASAI! DUI BU QI! BU HAO YISI! T_T Epic fail on my part. I apologize all those who have reviewed faithfully. You are not forgotten. I will PM you guys as soon as I have something properly hammered out. Please hope that things get done this week in a timely manner so I can write.

This chapter has taken a toll on me to write. It was so tough. Literally this is the chapter that I thought wouldn't be so bad and now it's gotten split into three parts and it makes me wanna just... argh. And this isn't the most complicated chapter yet! (Chapter 55 is a doozy). Haaa... (deflates) Sometimes I wonder how I'm gonna hold it together as a writer. Eh. Meh.

THIRDLY - I haven't replied to reviews yet, for that I'm sorry. I will try to get around to it - AFTER I start on the revew-reward story and finish up the next chappie. Sorry guys!

So... onto my favourite part (other than writing the chapter). Thanks to wbss21, DragonsFlame117, Guest(s), Double-Gemini, ClaMiAl, IvySnowe, Naerysa, cecld16, Chiharu-angel, Insolent Katt, May Arisa, Extra-Loki, CrazyRayRay113 and Mishil. You are all awesome. This chapter was written because of you and your awesome comments and encouragements. I didn't think people would go for exposition, you guys let me know it was OK and I feel so encouraged and this chapter got finished because I didn't want to disappoint you all. So thanks!

Be sure to visit my profile for links to a side pic of Meerauk. Also, I'm re-starting up a writer's Wordpress, called refiningsilver, where I'll post writerly stuff for those interested.

This chapter was brought to you by the sounds of the Myst series soundtrack.


Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]

Chapter 53
Listening To The Past II

"I do not doubt you," here, his voice fell to a husky whisper as tears gathered, "perhaps – perhaps I doubt myself, but that is necessary, is it not? To question? To wonder..."
"If it leads you to a path of better understanding and greater maturity, then yes," Elska replied gravely, "but if it brings you only to destruction, then do not – do not walk that road. Remember, dear heart, that although one feels alone, although one feels pain and regret and sorrow and loneliness, we look down upon you with pride. You are young - you look at the worlds and see nothing - but even there - even there, dear one... We. Are."
"We?"
"Yes, all of us who stand in the great beyond and see the Truths of Time watch with pride and joy, for you are destined to great things, little one. Great things if you so choose."
"I thought – I do not know what I thought, but surely in Helheim –"
"Helheim is only open to those who believe, to those who wish to sojourn there... and for those whose hearts are pure, there are other glorious Halls and golden Realms. Yet, we are neither bound to the halls of Helheim nor to the golden land of Valhalla... Come now, little one," Elska chided softly, "Did I not say that the Jotunn of Jotunheim carve out their own destinies? Our lives are not constrained by death, nor by the errant thoughts of other Realms... Trust us, dear heart, and know we are here," and with that Elska drew Loki into a firm embrace before releasing him and disappearing into the white, "we are here, waiting. Always."

Loki continued to walk – and the tears which ran down his cheeks froze in icy trails.

"Elska!" He cried, but his voice was whipped away in the wind as he called for the first being who had shown him kindness. The one he always thought of as his true father. "Elska – Els-Elska?"

But the voices which replied upon the wind were formless and unfamiliar.

They always leave, he thought bitterly. In the end, they always leave – and I am alone. Elska. Hluti. One day... Thor, Frigga... and Byla, one day, will as well.

With that dark thought, Loki moved onward. Meerauk was calling. It was waiting. The broad green river had further deepened into an ocean along the bottom of which Loki now walked, compressed and suffocated within its warm embrace.

Here, his eyes blazed like twin red flames of fire and his body was suffused with the magick of his people; the magick of Jotunheim, the magick of Life, poured forth from every pore of Loki's cells as he forged onward. Despite the press of power all about him, which threatened to drive the very air from him, Loki felt as though the voices were lulling him into a strangely calm state of serenity. Loki recognized it for what it was – he had felt it momentarily before when he had drunk from the well in Asgard. It was the entrance into the World That Is Not, That Which Is Not Seen.

This is the heart of Jotunheim, Loki thought, raising a hand to shield his face. Enduring in the face of extinction, an un-tameable wind – and it threatens to kill the very things it aims to protect.

When Loki next opened his eyes, the world had changed yet again about him and under his feet. The air, no longer white clashing with the vivid swirls of blue and green, was still burning with the heat of magick – yet the landscape of an ice jungle felt comforting somehow to Loki.

The voices whispered. Loki could hear them joining song with the cry of the Casket, resonating with What Was and What Is, past and present intermingling.

...the world that was...

...the world that could be...

...born from ice...

A thick jungle of jarnvithr and other strange trees, he could not name. Silver elms and great black oak sheltering tunglblom, manisilfr, and the luthrblom. In the underbrush, he caught sight of small curious creatures – animals similar to mice and cats and hares. Long extinct, he supposed. Long gone... In the distance, in the gloom which hung between the trees and dense underbrush, a howl rose and suddenly the Earth shook with the thunder of a thousand creatures headed his way.

Horses? Jarnvithr? Bears? No... No... These sound like... wolves! Loki instinctively took to cover between two great jarnvithr trees and stared out, entranced, as the large forms of great wolves materialized out of the fog. With a long mournful wail, the leader of pack swept by and, with overwhelming noise and stunning speed, the entire cavalcade of black, silver, deep blue and brown fur passed, leaving in its wake the wreckage of bent and bruised grasses, flowers, broken brambles and trampled grass.

Overhead, it was silent. All was silent. Then, a bird chirped loudly in complaint and the now deserted area slowly came to life again. In awe, Loki watched as the small creatures crept back out from their hiding places, as flittermice chased after ice drones and the white and grey spotted butterflies (with each wing five times the sizes of the palm of his hand) fluttered about serenely from flower to flower.

This... he thought. Can this be Jotunheim?

...Time has passed...

...our home squandered...

...voices forgotten...

...there is only silence...

...only silence...

Mesmerized, he reached out to brush a fingertip against a delicate ice crystal-like flower, but just as Loki touched the petal, it began to wither, turn black, crumble-

"No-" he gasped. "What-"

In horror, he turned about – watching helplessly as the entire forest disintegrated into ash as the creatures burst into flame and disintegrated in the blink of an eye. It was originating from him? It was, wasn't it? He couldn't really tell – but the expanding waves of destruction continued to blossom upward and outward until the sky darkened as though burnt itself by the glorious flames of blue and green.

Magic resonated within the air – metallic iron on his tongue – blood – and the gut-wrenching smell of death hung in the air – Jotunheim at its end? Loki turned, panicked and far away a responding sonic BOOM resounded blowing towards him removing any remaining bracket clouds of ash and smoke billowed – filling his lungs – he could not breathe – could not breathe – could not – could not speak – and the earth below him – the ice and few pieces of remaining snow and black rock quivered as though hit with a mighty blow – cracks – CRAA-AACCKKK – the sound of rock tearing under the pressure – the sound of ripping shivered through his very bones – and the rock gave way – gave way – it gave way from beneath his feet and fell – he fell – they all fell into nothingness – he was looking up now – Jotunheim receding – no nononono – no! No! No! - help! No! - Jotunheim falling away and he was falling away with it – darkness clouding in – the grey-blackened skies of Jotunheim disappearing – the edges of the Eybjarg receding as he fell away – fell further into the Void – noooo! - it was waiting.

It had always been waiting-

...this is the end...

...as it was in the beginning...

...this is the threat we face, dear one...

...beloved...

...awake...

[...south of that great River...]

[...the ancient city of Meerauk rose...]

[...splendid and fair on the plains of the Holkn Vollr...]

[...the ages of old...]

[...desolate – yet sacred...]

[...the wellspring of the Jotunn...]

[...the origin of the Rites...]

[...an ancient land long forgotten by Time...]

[...never forget...]

Meerauk, once located on the Vollrvatn Plains, was a great city in its time. Nowadays, if any spoke of it (or remembered it at all), it was more often than not referred to as the 'Sunken City' for the cavernous city which had boasted labyrinthine mazes and great halls below the icy surface of Jotunheim which would have impressed even the Dark Dwarves in their size, scope and depth. Mining deep, the Jotunn of Ancient Times, had discovered hidden veins of silver, hvitr-aldrnari stones and other rare metals. Drawing closer to the hidden fires of Jotunheim, the ancient Jotunn found unending reserves of warmth, fuel – and, even more importantly, magick. Thus, Meerauk's foundations lay deep within the Earth – and the ancients boasted of its strength, believing Meerauk would last forever.

It was not to be.

Now, the flat plains give way to deep crevices and large round impressions almost crater-like. Pillars are knocked over, towers destroyed or caved in. Other buildings appear to have been blown away entirely, leaving only bare remains of the lower walls closer to the ground – and piles of rock. Into the crevices, bits of stone and columns and rubble have fallen – and if one were to peer over the edges, one would be able to see the hitherto hidden chambers now gutted and revealed to the dark sky. Within the rock, rooms lie empty now – empty, some crushed or filled with caved in ceilings or other rubble. Beneath the ice and snow, one supposes, there must also be the ancient remains of the city's inhabitants, yet Meerauk does not appear to be a full graveyard as one would have supposed. Perhaps the Ancients had fled before the catastrophe had laid waste to the city.

And what devastation that must have been. What brought Meerauk, City of Lights, to its knees has remained a mystery – yet Meerauk's corpse remains as a mute warning. A warning of what?

No one knows.

-0-0-0-

"NO! NO! N-No!"

Loki jerked awake, screaming, red eyes wide and wild, voice hoarse, chest heaving as he panted. Light clouds of air puffed before him as he exhaled harshly, the cold air waking him up with sharp clarity. With relief, eyes still half-blind, still unseeing as the memory faded, Loki groped and found solid ground beneath him: the rough wool of his second cloak-blanket and, below, cold hard rock. Beside him, his pack and grey wolf cloak were piled neatly.

After a moment, Loki realized that he was sitting and then, with rising puzzlement, Loki recognized the rocks about him and the flattish, uneven hard ground.

I'm in a cave? He wondered.

For a moment, he sat there and just breathed. Listening for anything – but the silence seemed absolute. As silent as the Void… Then, he could hear it – the sound of his own heartbeat, his own harsh breaths… and far away, the sound of a distant creaking. A cracking sound which cut through the void of sound like a knife. CRRAAACKKK. Other nameless noises which Loki had learned to recognize as ice falling, stone breaking and tumbling down the mountainside and the sound of a waterfall rushing.

Plink. Plink. Plink…

Water dripping somewhere, he supposed. How could water run in such a freezing environment as this?

Pliink… plink… plink…

The pale white light of the storm still blasting past filtered down dimly through chinks in the dark ceiling overhead and the large gaping entrance way. A dim world lying in menacing shadow. Turning a little, Loki peered into the recesses of the cave-like tunnel in which he lay – but the irregular rays of light gleamed too thinly to reveal much, other than the fact that the cave opened deep into the heart of the mountain.

A mountain? Loki blinked, even more puzzled. A mountain in Meerauk? But I thought it was on the plain of Vollrvatn. Or perhaps… this is yet another vision?

Loki shuddered as he realized that the world he was sitting in was probably a figment of his imagination and the power of magick which swirled about. No doubt, he thought, I am still walking through the storm… Hopefully I'm headed in the right direction…

Whatever the case, Loki knew that whatever had brought him to the cave and had wrapped him the blanket, unseen world or no, was still out there. I need to keep moving, he shivered and cast aside the rough burlap that covered his legs. Whoever brought me in here may be a friend, but keeping a show of strength at the very least is sensible.

Attempting to get to his feet was easier said than done. Loki painfully rose – slowly and awkwardly – inexplicably tired and less graceful than usual. His movements were hampered by an overall achiness as joints and muscles flared suddenly in painful protest. Sluggishly, as though he were a fly snared in honey, Loki staggered to his feet, looking about, suddenly panicked, for his spear. It was leaning against the wall to the right only a few hand spans out of reach.

It might as well be several thousand paces away, Loki groaned softly.

The short Jotunn staggered forward a few steps and fell heavily against the wall, propping himself up on several rocky outcroppings before gathering the strength to reach for his spear. Once he had the spear in hand, using it as a staff, Loki managed to work his way to the mouth of cave.

Still, there was no sign of life about him. Only the distant rumblings of ice and rock heralded some kind of movement of land – and closer by, the rhythmic plink, plink, plink of dripping water. Only the howl of the wind outside and the whistle of what wind managed to work its way through chinks in the stone. Over everything, however, lay the thick, numbing silence of the ever falling snow. It drifted down through holes in the ceiling and fell thickly beyond the sheltered entrance of the cave.

Peering out, Loki's eyes could just barely make out a wall of rock rising before him, several paces away – unreachable thanks to the cliff which suddenly opened up before his feet and plunged downward into a seemingly bottomless white world.

A massive chasm, Loki realized and scrambled back suddenly, visions of the Void rising up before his mind's eye. In his haste, Loki nearly fell back – but he caught himself in time – and then froze as he realized, horrified, that the stone beneath his fingers, although rounded with wind and rain erosion and cracked wide with ice wedging, had obviously once upon a time been carved. Eyes wide, Loki's gaze drifted upward, following the curve of a crumbled arch and, turning, realized that the high ceiling of the cave was indeed too arched and ribbed to be entirely natural. The floor, covered as it was in rubble and cracked in many places, was hardly flat anymore but Loki could see how it had probably once been smooth and polished glimmering in the pale light of the suns which filtered through thin arched windows, now blocked by rock and other rubble.

He stood there, transfixed. The world about him still. Nothing but the steady faraway roar of falling water and the plink, plink, plink of water.

Plink…

Loki, following the destroyed wall which he supposed faced north, made his way to the back of the cave.

Plink…

There seemed to be no end to the cavern – it went on, getting steadily dimmer as Loki moved further away from the cave's entrance. Like entering a beast's belly, Loki though uneasily as he forged onward in a determined shuffle. Never to return… He shivered minutely as he passed a row of columns, a few broken off halfway.

many fall…

but few return…

The rock underneath his hands was an obsidian black with glimmers of deep blue and white and silver specks. Walls of black granite, Loki supposed, with embellishments of white quartz and silver or hvitr'steinn. Around the tops and bottoms of the columns, the barest traces of blaufe'irsteinn glimmered in broken pieces, telling a tale of a glorious era from long ago.

...many fall...

...but few return...

Plink... plink... pliiink...

The dripping echoed louder now and the crunching of gravel and stones beneath his boots seemed deafening.

Plink... Plink... Breath coming in short and hard, Loki forced himself to keep moving, ignoring the muted whispers and swirls of phantom magick in green and blue.

...many fall...

...but few return...

When the ground appeared to open up without warning beneath his feet, Loki gasped and jerked back, the memory of his vision-dream still fresh in his mind. This time, he gripped a nearby column and held his ground, the better to peer down and then sighed with relief as he caught a glimpse of black stone. It was a stairway, he saw, leading downward at a gentle slope into the dark – a stairway that had been torn apart at the top step by the forces of the earth long ago, no doubt, judging by the disintegration.

He hesitated only a moment before stepping across gingerly and, still leaning on his staff heavily, made his way down the oddly carved stairs. They curved grandly – widely – and the steps themselves, even more strangely, were shallow long paving stones more comfortable for his pacing than for what he thought a Jotunn's stride would be.

This must have been a city in the mountains, he thought, but which city? There are no mountains mentioned on the plain of Vollrvatn...

...many fall...

...but few return...

After a good ten minutes descending the stairs, Loki discovered another gigantic crack had lowered the stairs suddenly another few paces. Carefully, he turned, edged over feet first, hung for a moment from the edge by his fingertips and then let go, landing not so gracefully on his feet. When he had caught his breath, Loki continued downwards, following the stairs, trying to avoid the rubble as best as he could. Ancient jarnvithr ornaments, twisted foreign metal which might have been bars or weapons or furniture of some kind lay cast about as though they had been thrown down the stairs and had jumbled along it, finally settling under thick coats of dust and grime and ice and snow. Skirting the larger pieces of stone blocks and twisted metal, Loki cautiously descended, noting the continued high ceiling (which also showed signs of serious fracture) and carving. At one point, looking up, Loki noticed a large gaping hole in the ceiling revealing a spiralling towered room reaching upward into darkness.

A tower, he thought, a tower in a mountain? That does not make sense...

Eventually, the stairs came to an end – at another chasm. There was a small lip of what had most likely been a bridge – now gone – leaving enough space to look out further into the cavern. The sky had lightened and the storm had settled enough to allow Loki a clearer view. He was indeed looking into a chasm – but this one, he saw, had an end (although dangerously far). Further below, he could see the remains of a tower, now crushed a little under the weight of a grand pillar which had fallen. A pillar. A tower. A tower pillar? It was hard to tell at that angle, but Loki knew that if he had the strength for it, he could no doubt cross to the other side of the chasm along the great breadth of the pillar.

If I didn't slip off from the ice first, he reminded himself, leaning back again. This is indeed a city... but perhaps – perhaps...

And then – and then – an idea took seed in his mind and began to grow as he looked about and upward – to where he could see dangerously leaning towers and great halls and distant columns rising upward above him on the other side. Realization dawned and certainty took hold of him as he once again reached out a hand to trace a vivid blue finger along the intricate carvings of an entwined sun and moon.

This... he thought. This... this is... Meerauk?

Turning about, suddenly feeling tired with the weight of the implications of his discovery – his almost certainly correct guess – Loki began the long trek back to his pack and the cave he had woken up in. More than ever, he missed his wolf cloak, yet when he attempted to summon a little heat, Loki felt as though his entire muscles and body were inflamed. Groaning softly, he made his way back and up to the cave, more carefully looking at the rubble and stonework and sculpting as he passed by.

As he drew closer to the cave, red light flickering along the wall gave Loki pause. Quietly as he could, he approached the area in which he had woken – and paused at the sight of a small fire roaring before a tall, dark-blue skinned, ancient Jotunn who sat upon a rock and gazed into the flames thoughtfully.

For a moment, Loki's heart beat hard and fast – until he reminded himself that he had magick upon which he could draw, until he reminded himself that it was many years since he had last been overcome in combat without magick and weaponry at his disposal. Loki, allowing his boots to crunch loudly upon the stones, made his way carefully to the fire. Nearby, his pack and cloak and blanket had been piled neatly by the wall, far from the ravenous sparks of the fire. Loki, taking his cloak and wrapping it about him, added a few more pieces of silver elmwood to the fire before seating himself.

Old red eyes turned his way.

"So. He has awaken." A pause and then more meaningfully. "At last."

There was something about the odd air and the clear-eyed gaze, as though the hoary Jotunn were speaking to Heimsrsal herself which reminded Loki of Hluti the trader. The second one who had shown him much kindness and unexpected mercy. Hluti. Elska... Byla will become like them one day, Loki mused, perhaps. Wise, yet broken and so, misunderstood and then, finally, forgotten.

"Were you here earlier?" Loki asked. "Was it you who brought me in?"
"You have come far, traveller." The ancient Jotunn's eyes suddenly caught Loki's own with uncomfortable sharpness. "Take comfort by the fire and rest your weary soul. We shall have words later."
"I have come to look for answers," Loki lifted his chin. "Those I would have – and I need nothing else."
"All in good time," was the quiet, soothing, yet enigmatic reply, "for all Time is good."
"Riddles," Loki growled irritably. "I have no time for those."

Getting up again, this time just as painfully as before, the young Jotunn dragged his pack closer and pulled out several well-wrapped leather packets of eel and fish, which he expertly skewered on the long thin metal pieces which were tied to the bottom of his pack out of the way. Laying the skewers on the wood which crackled and popped within the no doubt magickally induced flames of the fire, Loki leaned back against his pack and sighed, rubbing his face.

"I woke up here," Loki finally realized. "What happened?"
"What happens to anyone searching for the soul of Jotunheim?"
"What? Soul of Jotunheim? I was not searching for any soul-"
"Then, what do you seek?"

Loki considered how he should answer, but then he said slowly, "I seek Meerauk, the birthplace of the Kings."

"Meerauk is the birthplace of the Kings indeed," the stranger said equably, "yet it is also the soul of Jotunheim, for both are one and the same, as a coin holds two faces – though many do not know it and those who should have remembered have long since forgotten. This is the past which was forgotten."
"Yes, well, there was some mention of such things in the Laufey's Archives-"
"Hah! The Archives!" chuckled the old Jotunn. "The Archives which hold the combined foolishness of all of Jotunheim."
"That may be," Loki allowed with a sigh. "If so, then foolishness led me here-"
"Then, let Wisdom lead you safely out. Many fall into the shadowed land of the Sunken City but few return to the Realm of the Cold Suns."

At the unspoken warning, Loki nodded, leaned forward quickly (with a muted groan), turned the skewers and leaned back with a sigh, massaging his shoulders underneath his wolf's cloak.

"Wisdom and good counsel, I need," Loki shut his eyes, wishing he could sleep but, not quite trusting the strange Jotunn, finding himself unable to relax. "From where do you hail? What is your clan?"
"I hail from a time forgotten," sighed the Jotunn, "and so have become forgotten like Time itself, but I can see from the lines upon your brow and the adornments on your wrists that you bear the lines of the King. A Sithr Efingi no less – and at such a time as this..."
"A True Heir..." Loki recognized the ancient words. "I read of that within the Archives as well within The Annals of the Kings and Rituals."
"Yes. The First Child of the King, gifted with the powers inherent to ruling a Realm... some, of course, more gifted than others."
"I am no Sithr Efingi, nor do I seek a throne," Loki said, forcing the bitterness and anger rising within him down.

Always others attain what they do not deserve, Loki could see Helblindi, talentless, magick-less Helblindi, and his feeble attempts to raise Utgard out the ashes of the Long War. He could easily recall – as if it were yesterday – Thor sitting on the hay bales in the stables, complaining about his court duties and outlining his plans to escape his morning sessions with the Royal Tutors and Mages. Taking for granted the gift they have been given... wasting the opportunity they have to prove themselves worthy... so certain are they, as if success were a thing of Fate or some inherent ability...

"I am no Sithr Efingi, no True Heir," Loki repeated with self-loathing, drawing his knees up and embracing them while drawing his wolf's cloak about him. "The seat of the King belongs to Helblindi. Laufey made the choice. Many would say it was the right one-"
"Ahh... but Jotunheim has not yet had its say," said the old one. "Long ago, Jotunheim fell silent, yet still its spirit lives, though stolen, and I would say -" Here, a hard look was cast Loki's way, "that it has returned."

A pause. Loki glared at the red fire until the red and orange and blue flames blurred into one patchy blob. After a moment, purposefully ignoring the giant beside him, Loki lifted the now rather well-done eel and fish skewers off the wood and began to eat the unflavoured meat.

"Can you hear it?" A whisper. A familiar voice echoed within the hoarse rumble of the strange Jotunn. "It is even here. In the silence."

Trust us, dear heart, and know we are here... we are here, waiting. Always.

"Who are you?" Loki's eyes hardened with suspicion, looking up from the last skewer he had in hand.
""I hail from a time forgotten, and so have become forgotten like Time itself, but when I ran in the glory of my youth over the white wastelands of Jotunheim, my mother called me by such a name – Miot'vithr – and one day, I left that name behind."
"Miot'vithr, you live within in Meerauk, then? Even here in such a desolate place?"
"Ahhh... Meerauk, a mysterious place and full of secrets," Miot'vithr rocked back and forth, looking upward as though talking to someone else in the room.

The whispers ran about now, echoing with voices from the past.

"It is my home, yes, and it always shall be. The place to which we all return – the soul of Jotunheim accepts all into her bosom. Until the end of days, when even Jotunheim shall find its end."
"Jotunheim has already found its end."
"That may be, that may be," agreed Miot'vithr equably, suddenly gazing at Loki with an unblinking stare. His red eyes seemed to glint in the flickering shadows cast by the fire. "Jotunheim may meet its end before now. The Long War brought darkness, brought silence – and the Slow Death has commenced."

A thoughtful silence followed. A silence of a sort. Now there was Miot'vithr and a fire and the howling and whistling wind and the dripping water and far-off waterfall.

"You came to seek for Meerauk, the Sunken City... and you have found it thus, brought on the tide of magick and ability, no matter what denials you may speak... Surviving such a winter season and such storms as these, that speaks in and of itself. And you are here, now," Miot'vithr continued in his hoarse rumbling tones. "Tread cautiously, little one, for Meerauk holds many secrets – some best left unrevealed and others deadly, yet life-giving at the same time. This is the land which sunk into darkness and draws in the unwary to their doom."
"I will remember that," Loki said wryly. "I don't intend to go scrambling about at any rate. For some reason, I felt as though I have just battled a thousand enemies... and so, I will take my time and look about cautiously enough-"
"Ah, yes," the taller Giant nodded, "you strode within the stream of Heimsrsal herself and tread the ocean and swam its powerful rivers. Your muscles have been put to use to an extent you have not attempted in years, I warrant."
"Muscles?" Loki raised a hand to squeeze another tightening muscle in his neck.
"Ach... it is not the muscles of the body of which I speak but those of the mind and of the soul. Under such extreme pressure, even the physical is affected, but the physical cannot alleviate the spiritual so easily – time and meditation and careful channelling of the magick within and without may ease the pain."
"Oh," Loki ducked his head, face turning red at the realization that he had missed the all too obvious state into which he had gotten himself. "Yes. I used to – when I was younger-" He shoved the memory of Elska viciously down where it belonged. "When I was younger and didn't know, I would wear myself out and – even my body ached..."
"Yes. What were you told?"
"To sleep."
"Then, sleep. I will watch over you."
"And who will watch you?" quipped Loki, voice muffled as he leaned his forehead against his forearms which were once again wrapped across the tops of his knees.

Laughter broke the silence sharply as Miot'vithr guffawed at Loki's sharp words.

"Ahh... he has some wit in him, he does," Miot'vithr mused. "I think I like him!" Stifling further laughter, Miot'vithr leaned back to give Loki another amused look. "Come now, little Jotun, what is it that you seek within Meerauk? Perhaps I may be able to help you after all."

Loki thought about it for a second before slowly answering, "I seek a name."

"A name?" mused Miot'vithr. "An odd thing to search for within such ruins as these."
"I seek the name of Loki."
"Loki," Miot'vithr paused, his face turned to look into the blaze thoughtfully – eyes distant as if seeing something before his eyes.

A dream or a vision, perhaps, Loki thought. Living in such a place as this, it is no wonder that one's grip on reality might become a little...

"Loki," repeated Miot'vithr. "Now that... that is a name I have not heard in a long, long, long, long, long, long time."
"But it existed? Here on Jotunheim?"
"Yes, it did," was the heavy reply.

Loki's stomach turned a little.

"Loki," Miot'vithr said softly. "If you seek Loki, you seek doom."

[...this is the land which sunk into darkness...]

[...this is the past which was forgotten...]

[...this is the truth now well-hidden...]

[...this is the power which flows unrestrained...]

[...this is the hope which waits for the taking...]

It was they who raised the cities of Innagard, Tower of the Cold Sun, and Utangard, Citadel of the Pale Moon. It was they who birthed Meerauk out of the air. And it was they who first began to war.

...this is the cause...

...the burden of those gifted...

...to see the temptation of What Could Be...

...and not to grasp so hastily...

...and in the grasping...

...they lost it all...


Well, there you go. You can go yell at me now and foam at the mouth and threaten me all sorts of violence. I'll try to update by Wednesday.
Until then,
SOOORRRYYY!
(let me know what you thought)
-KI

Author's Notes in Reply to Some Thoughtful Questions

Q: Why do the Jotunn mistreat Loki so?

Well, it's tradition. Tradition states that runt Jotunn should be killed. Why should they be killed? Well, the Jotunn have a reason to fear runty Jotunn. If you reread the last part of the chapter 52 (and now this chapter) - the part that reads like a history book, there is a mention of something that will be explained in the next chapter. Let's just say that it relates to your name, 'history'. XDDD Of course, for other reasons altogether, they should fear Loki... but they fear him for the wrong reasons and mistreat him in their fear and so exacerbate their position later on. This is the awesome complexity of relationships which we can see even now on this planet. Sadly.

Q: Loved that last scene, tho I don't understand how it happened, was it because Loki was in magical place ? or was he hallucinating ?

Both. He was in a magical place and so he was hallucinating. More will be expanded on later, but in essence, as the heart of Jotunheim, Meerauk is a very magical place which allows for various realities to form in time an space. Loki happens to experience a bunch. Good times.

Q: On Byleistr, is he older than Loki? If so, he acts less mature, and I'm wondering if the way Jotuns normally mature is different from Asgard? or was it because Loki had to deal with so much that he matured quite early?

Byleistr is older than Loki. Relative to Earth years, Loki is 19 or so. Thor is 20/21 years or so. Byleistr is around 22 years or so. However, when it comes to maturity, age is something a bit more relative. I would argue that none of the above characters are MATURE. However, some have more experience than others. And some have a greater variety of experience than others. So, if we were to say Loki is experienced in hard facts of life, the dark side of life, in magick and in underhanded combat and stratagem, that would be accurate. Thor is also experienced – like Helblindi – within the constraints of his culture, but what he can do, he can do well. Byla, sadly, is at the bottom. I blame Farbauti – and the fact that Byla is blessed with a loving family who protect him and make sure he doesn't have to deal with those things.

So, compared to Jotunn levels of maturity, Byleistr is more or less on par (but with less respect in his culture 'cause he's a scholar and a bit naive), whereas Loki is horrifyingly mature for his age because of his experiences. Once again, I say use the word mature carefully. He's seen and done things few Jotunn would have done before they got to early young adulthood, but that doesn't make him "mature" mature. If you take my meaning.

I feel that the Thor and Loki within the Thor film are horribly immature. The actors and writers and Feige and Branagh all refer to the two charas as being very young, immature, brash and hot-headed. So, yes, immaturity all around.

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:

bikkja – bitch
Brenna-Fir – the Immolation
Drakka Thyod – Dragon Race
ergi - womanly, weak, "gay"
Fiendfyre – a phoenix-firebird
Flauguna – flying feet/teleportation
fotr'ro - footstool
Ginnung – the Void
harhvila - high bed
Hiti-mothr – Flame Fury (also known as Lachruth)
Kaesia-Seithr – Spirit-Spear style
Koma a Aldr – Coming of Age
Kveykva-herklaethi – Light Armoured style
Laegja – the Immersion
Ofolr Leith – Dark Paths, Other Ways (crossing the Void)
Ominni-tith - the Forgotten Times
Rikr-Hringraevi – Grand Cycles of Time
Runa a Fyrsta – Rites of Initiation
Runa a Kelda – Rites of Spring
Runa'a'vetr – Winter Solstice
Saga-Vefr – Story-weavers
seithr - magic
seithrmaster - mage, sorceror
Skjald-borhyrr – Wall of Flame
Skipa – the Infusion
Skokkr-a-Mir – concealment skills, Box of Mirrors (also known as Col'ca-cenedril)
stormerki – mysteria
Tveir-Andlit – illusionary skills, Double Face
Velspara-Speki – the Well (of Wisdom)

Elvish Glossary:

skreyppa – slippery one
gargani – snake
fintalenir – trickster
vanwa – defeated one, impolite term for "loser"
caitahto – liar
curunar – fiery one
Lachruth – Flame Fury
Col'ca-cenedril – Box of Mirrors
Cebir-Gondlug – Spike-Stone Dragon
Am'loce Norie – Dragon Race
raudhaust – high bed

Jotunheim Glossary:

Aldinn Stathr – Ancient Place
Almror'ganga - Long Range Weapon Contest
Arlang'leith – the Annual Caravan
Atfirth – energies
ausa'songr fugl - flow-songbirds

blakkrbjorr – black beer
Blakkrbjorn – black bear
blakkrgras – black grass
blargras – blue grass
blar'iss hros - black ice horse
Blaufe'irsteinn - blue fire stone
Brandr'ganga - Unarmed Combat

Dagaheim
Dauthr'ganga - Death Duel
dvegr – dwarf
dyrspeki – zoologist

Eybjarg (Chasms of Forever)

Faetha'snaer - "Mother", "who births the snow"
fauld – a part of armour around the lower midsection
Fjor'fylgja – Life Mate
Flara River – Treacherous River
For-Eldra – Ancestors
Forn Vegr – Old Ways
Frothleikr'ganga - Battle of Magick
Fylgja'snaer - "Father", "who aids the snow"

Gastropnir
Glima'ganga - Battle of Swords
Gnottvatn (Lake of Abundance)
Gothahus – temple
Grarfjall – Grey Mountains
grarulfr – grey wolves
Griotunagardar

hafnathr – sea serpents
heillgrjot – healing stones
Heimsrsal – Soul of the Realm
heithrsker – crystal flowers
hjarr'veithr - rabbit chaser (a kind of eagle)
Holdra River – Hero's River
holkimurtr – small flat fish
Holkn Vollr – Flat Plains
holmganga – a method of ending feuds/disagreements
hota-eik – white oak
hvaeta – wheat
hvitr'steinn - white fire stone

Innaheim – Inner Realm
iss'hona'by - ice honey bee

jarnkottr – iron cat (beast which Laufey released in Thor)
jarnvithr – iron wood

Kaldrfjall (Cold Mountains)
Kero Fornvetr – Casket of Ancient Winters
kostrboth – a method of proving virility for the purpose of marriage

lagreinn – small one (epithet)
lagr'hyggr – fool
Lengi Ofrithr – Long War
luthrblom – trumpet flower

manisilfr – moonsilver
Meir'brothir – Older Brother
melrakki – white fox
Myrkr Skogr – shadow forest

Nattura – spirits
Northri Stjarna – North Star

rjothr'auga haukr - red-eyed hawk

silvralmr – silver elm
silvrfiskr – silver fish
Sithr Efingi – True Heir
Skalldi
skordyr – Jotunheim goat
Smar'brothir – Younger Brother
snaerharra – snow rabbit
snjarlang'hvartha - snow camel
Storrholl – Great Hall

thurblakulfr – giant black wolves
tunglbom (moonflower)

Utanheim – Outer Realm
Utgard

vaetki – nothing
ventrmellin – winter melon
villrkyr – wild ox
Virtha Aevi – Coming of Age
Vit'ganga - Battle of Wits
Vollrvatn – Lake of the Plains