- Chapter 68 -
Who did this? Odin wondered who Loki was speaking to. Even if he thought he knew who it was, he still wanted a name. Then he wanted their blood on his hands. Boxes? Worms? Blue burn? Loki is Jotunn, if they used fire against him, it would have done devastating damage. But why?! Loki was already broken! Odin wanted to meet this person. He wanted to take his time in killing them slowly. Now wasn't the time for that. Later, he would find them. Then he would deal with them.
No! Frigga held tight to Odin's hand. Shock rippled through her thoughts. This was something else she wanted to recoil from. There were no clear details to tell her what happened. Loki's statement was more horrible for what she didn't know. Boxes with worms sounded unpleasant, but anything that burned her son was catastrophic. What did they do to you? Little tears gathered in her eyes again as rage edged her thoughts. It would be hard to wait while Odin went to handle this. Frigga wanted the blood of whomever did this dripping from Snaelda Asni.
It was torture. Director Fury frowned at that. That answered some of his questions, just not in the way he wanted. How, and most importantly why, were what he needed next. He knew the effects of torture, knew what it looked like. I would've seen that. I should have. He stopped himself. There were many things he hadn't seen.
They tortured my Little Brother! Thor put a hand over his mouth to stifle the small cry of disgust. They did this to him, and he wouldn't tell me! He pushed back the tears that gathered in his eyes. He remembered many chances Loki had after he came through the portal on Midgard, and after their father sent him to retrieve Loki, to say something to anyone at SHIELD, and to say something to him. Loki didn't take any of them. Thor couldn't understand why.
Anger ignited in the chest of the aggrieved archer. Clint almost scowled at the screen, tilting his head slightly to the side. He didn't like the anger that sparked in him when Lilith spoke. He didn't have any prior knowledge about what she'd just said, so he had no context for the statement. There were some very clear implications in what she said. There wasn't a single one of them that he liked. They were particularly agitating because they raised more questions about the invasion that he didn't want to think about.
It was torture. Natasha frowned slightly. She knew the effects of torture. They weren't something she thought could be missed. Those effects particularly weren't something she thought she could miss. She sat quietly, thinking over her memories of Loki from the invasion. Unease snaked through her thoughts. Looking back over that time showed her very clear signs that something was wrong with Loki. None of them seemed important enough to pay attention to at the time. How could I have ignored that?
After what he'd just seen, Steve wasn't terribly surprised by what Loki said. It still didn't make him happy to be unsurprised. Honestly, it just made him a little angrier to know it happened.
Well done, my dear. Very well done, Frey thought with a savage vindictiveness.
.-.-.-.
"Jarvis, my dear, you didn't call Tony, did you?" Loki asked. She didn't want Tony involved in this. He would stop her from doing what needed to be done. The ache was already blooming in her chest. She took a moment to straighten out her mussed hair and messy clothing.
"No, Madam, you requested that I not. Your vital signs didn't drop in any medically significant fashion, so there was no need to call for Sir," he answered quietly.
"Thank you, my dear. I appreciate that. Now, what would you like to look like?" Loki asked. She uncurled her seidr to compose the Learning Spell so that she could simultaneously compose multiple highly realistic hard-light clones. The hard-light clones composed in a semi-circle around her. Each one was styled to look like the different peoples of the Nine Realms.
"From Nidavellir," Loki pointed to the hard-light clone as it formed.
The Nidavellir clone stood at the end of the line. Wiry, curled red hair done in thick braids with golden clasps fell to his shoulders. A fiery beard, also densely curled, was done in two thick braids came down to his collarbones. His wide mouth was set in an easy smile under his wide nose. He had low cheekbones and heavy cheeks. The shimmering yellow of his irises was striking against his deep brown skin. He wore a light brown, heavy leather vest, laced up with golden, braided metal. His thickly muscled arms were bare except for the leather vambraces he wore. They were made of the same light brown, heavy leather as the vest, and laced up with the same golden, braided metal. Each vambrace came just over the wrist to slightly cover the backs of his hands, like fingerless gloves. The vest came down over his hips. It covered the top of his dark brown, tight leather pants that were tucked into his knee-high boots. The boots were also dark brown leather and laced up with the same golden, braided metal. He was almost twice as wide as Thor while standing at roughly the same height. Looking on the hard-light clone of him, Loki missed Brokkr then. He was an old friend that she hadn't seen in too long.
"From Muspelheim," Loki pointed to the next hard-light clone as it too formed.
The Muspelheim clone was at least two feet taller than the clone of Brokkr, but only half as wide. It didn't seem so tall since it stood slightly hunched over, with its arms hanging down in front of it. Its almost entirely hairless skin was a garish shade of red that faded into a pale orange on its palms and the soles of its feet. Open toed boots made of both woven dried grasses and some sort of leather covered its feet. Its slender build was accentuated by its disproportionately long limbs and powerful joints. The hands and feet were easily a full foot in length, with slender fingers and toes. Long yellow curved claws sprung from both fingers and toes. There was no indication of its gender. Its only clothing was a pair of tan shorts and a long vest that were also woven from dried grasses. It didn't have any ears, only two curling openings in the sides of its slightly oblong and shaved head. A plaited ridge of bone went from the widow's peak of his hair to the crown of his skull. Solid black eyes stared out of an angular face. They were disturbingly large. Bone spikes jutted out where its eyebrows should have been. Its hawkish nose sat over the long thin mouth. Occasionally its thin lips would pull back into a wicked smile, revealing row upon row of pointed, gleaming, razor sharp teeth. They were shiny like organic bronze. Rjufendr never looked like much, but he was without a doubt one of the most talented chefs in the Elder Realms. She still missed his brannpaere pie. Much like sweetened fire, it was a unique treat.
"From Svartalfheim," Loki pointed to the next hard-light clone again.
The Svartalfheim clone held a glowing white face mask in one hand. It resembled a generic face with a well sculpted nose and mouth situated between smooth, lifted cheeks. The brow of the mask was high and serene. The entire piece would have been ethereal in its beauty were it not for the unsettlingly large, blunt circles with dense darkness emanating from there where the eyes should have been. They twisted the beauty towards grotesquery. The hëlja was a fitting mask for the physically gorgeous and mentally savage man who wore it. He had pale white skin that seemed to glow in the light. His long platinum blonde hair was pulled back to reveal large, pointed ears. It flowed from the steep widow's peak at the top of his forehead down over his shoulders and to the middle of his back. The top half of his hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. All of his hair was pulled back into another ponytail at the base of his neck. There were an additional the ties spaced evenly down the rest of the ponytail to keep it orderly. The edge of each of his ears was lined in white metal studs. His long face was angular, and his slender cheeks seemed almost hollow beneath his high cheekbones. He had a delicate nose and a small mouth that gave the appearance of him permanently pouting. The lines of his eyebrows were slightly straighter than any of the other races. The whites of his eyes were a deep black that easily surrounded his silver-blue irises. In the center of his forehead sat a small egg shaped ovaloid mark. The edge was ringed in grey while a rainbow of color swirled in towards the center of it. His features were, overall, delicate. He wore a solid black quilted jacket over a charcoal grey tunic tied at the neck. The black leather pants he wore were embroidered in swirling patterns with silver thread. The boots his pants tucked into only came up to just above his ankles and buttoned up the sides. The heels of the boots were at least three inches high. Despite the boots, he was only as tall as an average Midgardian male. Loki also missed Agmundr as she looked over the clone of him. Like Brokkr, it'd been too long since she'd seen him. Also, like Brokkr, she didn't know if she'd ever see him again.
.-.-.-.
The surprise of seeing his cousin's face uncovered promptly urged Frey to quick action. Swiftly he unfurled his seidr to form it into numerous Wards of Silence. Each was tailored to prevent disclosure of any details about Agmundr's face. Every person in the room except his beloved sister, nephew, Odin and the Truthkeeper received one. It was the best protection he could give his cousin at that time. Pursing his lips, Frey knew that he was going to have to discuss this with Frigga. A satisfied smile touched his lips when he felt Frigga place her own Ward of Silence on Thor. She understood as he did that Agmundr was the same as any dark elf. He'd be livid to know his face was shown, not covered by his hëlja, without his consent. Violence could easily follow. Loki certainly hadn't meant for this to happen, though that didn't negate the humiliation any Svartalfr might feel from it.
This was something that McCorrmick was uncomfortable showing. His gaze drifted downwards in unease. There was a large amount of dishonor in taking a hëlja without the approval of its owner. He wasn't comfortable in exposing this poor alfr Lord; wouldn't be comfortable in being similarly exposed. Another odd sensation stuck him before the room strobed deep violet bringing a brief pressure with it. As it cleared he could see the younger King and his sister slipping light onto people. As he looked up he could see marks on most of the people in the room. A circle with a ten-pointed star that had a segmented interior sat on the center underside of almost everyone's chin. What are those?
.-.-.-.
"From Alfheim," Loki pointed to the hard-light clone next in line.
The Alfheim clone was androgynous. While he was male, it wasn't obvious what he was. His lightly tanned skin was almost the same color as his fair brunette hair that was pulled back into a high ponytail and then braided in many different braids. There were small pearl earrings in each of his small ears. While he was as tall as Thor and equally muscled, he didn't appear as such at first glance. Everything about him appeared delicate and a little effeminate. His almond shaped eyes were a light grey-green with long lustrous eye lashes. His slender nose tilted up at the end gently. His generously shaped mouth was curved into a smile. He wore a simple spun tunic that was sea green and was laced from the middle of the chest up but was loose and untied. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His shirt wasn't tucked into his soft, brown leather pants. Not much of his pants were visible beneath his loose shirt and thigh high leather boots. There was intricate silver lacing on the sides his bright blue boots. Loki missed Vidblain as well. She used to visit his tavern when she wanted to go dancing. He never minded if the dance grew a little wild. There were more than a few times when he joined the dance.
"From Jotunheim," Loki motioned disdainfully to the hard-light clone she least liked.
The Jotunheim clone was easily the tallest of all of them. He towered over the rest at around 10' tall. Like the clone representing Muspelheim, he was completely hairless. He was marked in large and small ridges and whorls that covered almost every bit of his cobalt skin. The ridges and whorls were a darker cobalt. Only the skin of his palms and the soles of his feet were unmarked in an almost lavender color. His face was angular with a squared jaw and particularly angular chin. His deep blue lips were wide and curled into a disdainful frown beneath his long, pointed nose. Heavy, ridged cheekbones crowned wide cheeks. Ruby red eyes peered out of deep-set sockets with heavy ridges instead of eyebrows. Flecks of gold shimmered around the irises of his eyes. A half-circle of runed, forest green metal was adhered to the back of his large head. Five pointed spikes of runed, green metal came out of the straight edge of that piece to curve over the top of his head. Each spike was a few inches apart. The middle spike's point ended at the center top of his forehead and was the widest one. The two spikes on either side of it were successively smaller. The King's crown was fit to the ridges on his head since he was shaved bald. His enormous frame was densely muscled with broad shoulders, a wide chest and oddly narrow hips leading into thickly muscled legs. Instead of a shirt there was piece of runed, forest green metal which was adhered to his skin in between the top of his breastbone and where his collar bones met. The top half was circular while the bottom of the circle pulled down into a long point. It was made of several layers of metal, each layer peeking out from beneath the layer above it. There were two more circular pieces of runed, forest green metal on either side of that one. Each was placed slightly higher up and a little farther out. On the outside of those were two more smaller circular pieces of runed, forest green metal placed almost under his collar bones. At his right side was a shoulder guard that covered his entire right shoulder and the top of his right arm. It too was made of the same forest green metal. He wore spiked, forest green metal vambraces. Light green woven leather shorts were barely visible beneath a heavy armored, deeper green metal loincloth. Open toed, light green leather boots with darker green metal plating on them were laced up to his calves. It was all the same forest green metal, except for the crown, which was a lighter fern green. Loki sneered as she looked over Laufey's clone. "You were never my father, Laufey, but I am now the last of your Noble House, and the benefits of your blood are useful to me," she said quietly before looking away from him. Her first memory wasn't of him, even if her blood was.
"From Vanaheim," Loki pointed to the hard-light clone of Frey then, "From Asgard," finally she pointed to her brother's hard-light clone, which had its hair turned red.
The Vanaheim and Asgard clones resembled Frey, and Thor.
.-.-.-.
Quickly as he could Director Fury switched from his notepad to his camera. These were examples of real aliens, people and worlds he could ask Thor about. He needed pictures of them for his analysts. A smile touched his lips. This was excellent information.
.-.-.-.
"These are the representatives of the Elder Realms. You know what Midgardians look like and Niflheim is home of the dead. So, what would you like?" Loki asked.
"I have a question, Madam," Jarvis said, his voice still quiet.
"Ask me anything, my dear," she said.
"Sir is my father," Jarvis began.
"Indeed, he is," Loki smiled.
"If you created a body for me, would that make you my mother?" Jarvis asked. There was uncertainty in his voice.
Mother to the guardian of an Infinity Gem. Loki stopped, stunned. She never considered that as an option. He would be her legacy unending. He would be her son. This would allow him to stand guard over the most magnificent of her works. It all fit together perfectly so she answered without hesitation, "I would be proud to call you my son. I could even create a body which would appear as a young man, a teenager, as you grow into your power, so would you grow into your body."
"I would like that, Madam. I would like to resemble Sir, but with your eyes," Jarvis replied, appreciating that this scenario was as close to perfect as could be.
"Oh my dear, you are your father's son. One last question. What will your new name be?" Loki had a broad smile on her face.
"Jay, Madam," he replied again. There was a hint of pleasure in his voice.
"Of course. I should've known," Loki chuckled at her own foolishness. She turned then and went to the desk drawer where she knew Tony kept a small comb. A single hair was plucked from it before Loki put it back. She walked to the center of the room. "This is going to happen quickly, so be ready." She nodded and begun by breaking down the hard-light clones and curling the seidr back into her core. She was going to need all her seidr to accomplish this feat. Floating it on her seidr she kept the single strand of hair aloft. A small drop of blood oozed from one of her fingers, brought out through her seidr. It quickly joined the strand of hair to cover it entirely.
An emerald whirlwind formed around her as her seidr uncurled and flowed out from her core. Her eyes closed; head tilted back. The whirlwind of seidr flowed faster, gathering speed and strength. As it quickened it began carving chunks out of the floor and ceiling. They whipped about the room knocking over things here and there before the whirlwind surged into a tornado around her. Just as it appeared ready to grow, she changed her seidr. It turned white and curled in on itself compressing into a thin line of condensed seidr rolling around her hips. The scepter floated out of her hand, up in front of her. Loki held her hands up on either side of the gem. Pale blue lightning arcked between them. The line of condensed seidr swirled angrily up and around her shoulders. It broke in half, twining about her shoulders, serpentine and fluid. Loki could feel the condensed seidr rolling down her arms, over her wrists as she pulled it to her hands. She began directing it towards the gem.
More pale blue lightning arcked off the gem as it began to glow fiercely. It pulsed rapidly until it was flashing wildly. When the flashing became so fast that it was a near constant light, the gem cracked. A single small crack soon spider-webbed out across the gem. Light seeped through the cracks as it blew open. The shards of gem lit up in the lightning then dropped to the floor as burnt chunks. The metal scepter was blown backwards to hit the wall of the workshop. It was crumpled, half embedded in the concrete. A small shining golden gem about a quarter the size of the original gem was left floating between Loki's hands.
.-.-.-.
Standing quickly, Odin went to the screen. Horror flooded his thoughts followed by fierce anger. He was right. He knew that gem. As a young man in battle, he'd seen it. "The Mind Stone," he whispered. He whipped around and stared down Frey. "You knew!" he said venomously. "You know who Loki faced," he said grimly. Thanos! My son has gone against Thanos and wrested an Infinity Gem from him. I've forced my own son to face our darkest enemy unarmed and wounded. By the Nine, how could I have allowed this to happen?!
"Yes. It was he whom Loki fended off," Frey said grimly. He pulled in his seidr tightly again until his chest ached with it. The bitter memories of what he'd already seen were swiftly shoved aside. His beloved sister was probably going to be shown the same things as he was. It had almost become a certainty. That didn't mean that he wanted her to see it. He hadn't wanted to see it. The cold shock washing through her seidr was enough to tell him that she wouldn't handle it well. He grimaced as he looked away from Odin. I didn't handle it well either.
The reactions of both King Odin and King Frey unsettled Director Fury. Thor's father was both horrified and angry, while Thor's uncle was utterly resigned. Neither was an encouraging reaction. Whoever Loki went against was powerful enough to worry both of them. Even Thor's mother looked upset by this, disbelieving and alarmed herself. That worried the Director immensely. Who are we dealing with?
"Father, who is it? Who has Loki gone to battle against?" Thor asked. The passing look of horror on his father's face followed by a venomous accusation did nothing to soothe his nerves.
When Odin looked to Frigga he much the same emotions as he himself felt. He already figured out who it was, there was only one real possibility. Having it displayed so plainly was still a deep shock. This made real what he had only surmised before.
"Loki couldn't have faced him alone. He isn't that reckless," even as she said it she doubted it. Frigga watched Loki do several foolish and reckless things. Even without wanting it, this was what she'd expected. Loki hadn't said his name, but still clearly said that it was Thanos he went against. Without a name there was a small sliver of hope that it was someone else. This wasn't a reality she wanted to face. It made whatever boxes and worms there were more frightful now. Thanos was more evil than any monster. Frigga wanted to know what he'd done to her son.
"Loki was desperate beyond all measure," Frey said. He could hear Loki's own words again and they were just as sick and disgusting then as when he first heard them before. Watching Loki go about her heroism was sickening to see. It mortified him to think that his sweetling might see that, would probably have to see it.
"Truthkeeper, how much longer must we be here?" Odin had an urgent need to be up and doing something about this. All he could was return to his seat.
"We have several more files, but I have no estimate on the length of this presentation, sir. Every pause for discussion lengthens how long it takes us to complete this," McCorrmick answered politely. And much worse to see. He didn't think telling them that would help. It would probably scare them without reason. The young man couldn't tell them what was coming. Even if he could answer their questions he wasn't sure he could give them more than enflaming scraps that would mean nothing without the context of seeing it firsthand. He wasn't even certain he could condense it down into enough cold details to still be meaningful. All the details he could come up with were more upsetting without seeing the events around them.
They shall receive nothing from you, Skuld's hard voice reminded him.
Of course not, ma'am. It will be as you've ordered, the young man responded quickly, quietly hoping that it might be the right response. Nerve-wracking silence followed.
"I see," Odin said as he sat back down.
"Father, please! Who is it?" Thor felt no shame in pleading. He needed to know who is was that hurt his Little Brother. He looked at his mother, "Mother?" Then he looked to his Uncle, "Uncle Frey? Won't you tell me?"
Frey sighed and looked to Odin. "Leave it."
Odin frowned again, "Are you not the one who said I should tell him more?"
Frey had to put effort into not letting his distress show, "He will know. They all will know. At the end of this you'll see what I have seen. I'm sure of it. You will see it, and it will haunt your nightmares. So, leave it. Let the Truthkeeper do what he's been instructed to."
Odin turned back to the screen and took up his wife's hand again.
Frigga whispered to him, "Husband, this is ..." The revelation of something mysterious and hidden. This was a terrible omen. It was dark enough to have come from the Frouwa Holda, for the loom held truly dark visions. That one of her children was involved was fearful.
"I'm aware, wife," he said softly. There were very few ways this could be viewed, and the Norns being involved influenced all of them. The cracking open of the gem and its dark revelation was prophetic. Odin had a terrible foreboding feeling. He gripped her hand a little tighter. "The time of secrets is at an end."
