Different Kinds of Imprisonment

Summary - Loki is held captive by powerful Mountain Trolls. After escaping, he then finds himself in Jotunheim where he meets a tribe of Otaga (Wolf people)

Part I

It had been entirely unexpected and that was what galled Loki the most. It took great skill to not only surprise him, but also to carry out a sneak attack successfully. But that was what had happened.

The Mountain Trolls of Vanaheim were distant cousins of the Rock Trolls, the most infamous of the Troll Lords and they were very different from Trolls of any other realm. Loki had been able to avoid them as he'd been avoiding any kind of settlement for over six weeks until they'd found him. He'd been living in the woods, alone, when they'd taken him. His magic had been bound and with his small stature in comparison to their bulk and stature, he hadn't been able to do much of anything.

Powerful though they were, Mountain Trolls were not exactly intelligent, but evidently they'd known or sensed enough to know that his magic was his primary form of defence. But not his only one. Loki had killed three Trolls with his knives before he'd been subdued, a feat which would have impressed any battle hardened warrior.

Now, one week later, Loki was still without his power thanks to the magic repressing cuffs on his each of his four limbs as he hung by his wrists against a rough stone wall, his feet a mere inches off the ground in an almost taunting manner. He hadn't eaten since his capture and though that normally would affect him as badly, his gracious hosts had seen fit to torture him every day too.

He'd been beaten and whipped badly enough to tare his back into shreds expand every time a gust of wind cam in through the barred window it was enough to knock the bleeding skin across the stone, sending jolts of agony thorough his his body. Torture was nothing new to Loki, suffering and pain were old friends so he managed to muffle his cries of pain, at least while he was in hearing distance of any of the Trolls.

So far, they'd not made any demands of him or even kept up a verbal list of colourful insults, both of which he had come to expect in such situations. He'd come to recognise the routine and on his few accompanied 'trips' from what had been designated his cell through the small cave like, complex Loki believed he knew enough of its layout to locate his armour and knives and then escape. He'd been testing the limits of the magical restraints and as he heard the door creak open, it was time to act.

After snapping the chains holding him up, which was easy compared to shattering the cuffs restraining his magic, Loki preceded to twist the tough neck of the first Troll enough to break his neck. Then he slammed the head of the second Troll into the wall, shattering his skull. The third one that he knew now always waited behind the door then rushed in and Loki slammed the door shut on him, rendering him unconscious.

Now that the immediate threat was dealt with, the exhaustion and the pain set in, Loki resisted the urge to fall to his knees, knowing that if he fell, he'd never get back up. His magic was able to start healing the worst of the wounds now that it was free and it was a little easier to force himself to move down the corridor.

As before, it was dark, barely lit with torches at all for the Trolls here had excellent night vision, but luckily so did Loki. It was a byproduct of being borne of a race of beings which had adapted to a planet shrouded in an almost perpetual darkness, he'd discovered.

After a minute or so of silently passing through the shadows, Loki finally found his possessions and he smiled.

"Ahhhh," he breathed a sigh of relief at being reunited with his daggers.

He knew that it was foolish and sentimental but his attachment to his armour and weapons was not something that Loki could deny. He could have escaped without them, he could have reduced the risk of getting caught by simply abandoning them, but he couldn't. His armour had been gifted to him by his mother at his coming of age ceremony and his daggers had been presented ostensibly from the people of Asgard for their prince, but he knew that they'd come from Thor. He didn't like to think of it that way now because it meant that he was the one being sentimental.

Once his weapons were stowed safely inside his clothes, Loki snuck out of the room and began to make his way out of the complex. It was with great difficulty that he moved through the shadows when every one of his limbs practically screamed in protest but he did his best to ignore it. After all, if he was caught, he might not get another chance to escape at all.

It seemed to take an age but finally, he found himself squinting at the sunlight, standing on a ledge on a mountaintop. He was high in the clouds, so much so that he knew he had no way of climbing down and the fall to the ground would finish off whatever strength he had left.

So, he did the only thing he could. He turned himself into a small black bird and after a few pitiful attempts, Loki launched himself into the air, swerving around the crude weapons and arrows that came his way as the Trolls realised that he'd escaped.

After that it took him an entire day to locate a natural portal which would take him to another realm. He could sense that it was an unstable one, and Loki had no way of knowing where he'd end up. But anywhere had to be better than here.

Part II

The world of the Frost Giants was in the midst of one of their worst winters in history, and as one could imagine, that was up against some difficult competition indeed. The temperature had dropped cold enough that it would freeze the very perspiration on the skin below layers of thick clothing on the body of anyone who was not of Jotun decent.

The escape from the Troll prison had left him more drained than he cared to admit which meant that he couldn't keep out the cold without resorting to his Jotun form, which he detested more than anything. So, with his blue skin and blood red eyes, he was able to roam the lands with little to no difficulty at all. There was no one around to see him so he didn't need to worry about being seen as he was.

His long, elaborate coat billowed behind him in the unforgiving winds and the snow whipped past him making his eyes water, but he didn't care. He hadn't really expected to come to this world anyway and the look on his face when the natural portal had landed him here had probably been priceless.

To journey through the Nine Realms, Loki had been using the natural magic that existed throughout the entirety of creation. This magic left ripples through the worlds, almost like doorways, and it allowed him to journey without putting any strain on his own powers. The trouble was, unless it was a portal he'd used before, he had no way of known where he'd end up, and Loki didn't presume for one moment that he'd used every single one of them. Sometimes they shifted as well, they were unreliable and it wasn't worth remembering half of them because of that. This time though, he couldn't really complain. He'd leapt into an unstable vortex to escape and hadn't cared at the time where he'd end up.

After several days of aimless wandering, Loki came across something he never thought he'd ever get to see in all his life. Even in Asgard there were stories, awe filled stories about it and much to the displeasure of his tutors, Loki had more than once expressed his desist to see such a phenomenon.

It was called the Audhol Crater, a giant valley that had grown inside the pock marked hole that detonated where a huge meteorite had once struck the land. It was a surreal sight to see the almost lush greenery that grew, shielded from the worst of the cruel elements above as the ground gradually lowered at his feet.

Throwing caution to the wind, Loki began a careful descent, using whatever plants were available to steady himself as snow and ice gradually gave way to fertile soil and grass. He wound his way through twisted trees that had grown on the hillside and stepped over rocks and holes in the uneven ground.

When he finally came across a flat surface he took a moment to observe his surroundings and that was when he heard it. The tell tale sound of a leaf crunching underfoot. Loki froze and let his eyes skim through the foliage that now surrounded him and he could made out at least a dozen sets of yellow eyes which were all trained on him.

At a guess, Loki would say that he had been expertly and rapidly surrounded by a large pack of Dire Wolves. These were not creatures to be trifled with; they stood at almost half his height and they were incredibly intelligent, they even had some small amount of magical resistance but not enough to worry Loki. He was a master of magic and no pack of wolves would ever be enough to defeat him.

As quietly as he could, Loki drew his daggers into his hands and he felt the careful trickle of magic as it pooled at his fingertips, ready to be used in his defence.

Slowly, one wolf stepped forwards and Loki could see that the animal was beautiful, it had white fur and its eyes were almost golden in their intensity, but it's beauty was irrelevant as it bared its fangs at him and growled. Loki scowled back, refusing to back down in because if he did, that would be a sign of weakness and he would certainly be killed, magic or no.

It seemed that time slowed as Loki's red eyes stared directly into the two golden orbs of the wolf when suddenly, without warning, it backed away and lay down on its front, wagging its tail behind him as though it were a domesticated dog and nothing more.

Loki furrowed his brow in confusion but he watched as the wolf turned its great head to stare at something behind him and Loki did the same.

"Greetings, Loki Silvertongue," an old voice spoke, but Loki refused the lower his daggers. "I sensed you coming and I thought it best to meet you before any bloodshed occurred," the man said as he stepped out into the moonlight.

He was indeed old, with pale, almost white skin, he wore elaborate clothes made from beautiful furs and his long white hair was braided back with small beads and faded ribbons platted into it. He held a staff of dark wood in his right hand and it bore the dual horns so associated with the Jotun at the top.

"How is it you know me?" Loki narrowed his red eyes at the old Otaga man. *1

"I know many things," the man replied enigmatically. "I am the all see'er for my tribe. My name is Radanon the Wise, advisor to my Lord Solvanin, Chief of the Otaga and I am here to offer you shelter and food...should you wish it."

"Do you offer me this, or does your Lord?" Loki asked carefully.

"My Lord does. When I saw you coming he was informed and bid me to come to you."

"...And if I refuse?"

"Then you will go on your way," Radanon replied.

"You have not been sent to dispatch me?"

"By no means."

"You can see me with your own eyes, you know what I am...and still you would extend this courtesy to me," Loki stated, confused.

"My people have no quarrel with the Frost Giants," he said calmly, "Nor have we with you."

"Many I have met find fault enough with me in knowing that I am Parton of Lies and Trickery."

"I see no reason to find fault with you," Radanon shrugged, "Have you with me?"

"...No," Loki answered after a moment, now lowering his hands and sheathing his weapons, "I will accept your offer."

Radanon inclined his head and turned around, "Then follow me," he said, walking away.

Loki was led deeper into the Crater, through trees and thick, nettled shrubbery to a wide opening in a cliff face. Inside he could see the gentle flicker of firelight and he followed his guide inside the cave, ignoring the stares of the pale skinned, armed guards that stood at the entrance.

The cave itself was huge, almost beyond comprehension, it seemed to go on forever with thick stalactites reaching from the roof of the cave to the floor, holding up the entire structure. There were hundreds of burning torches on the walls, giving the rock a warm glow and a womb like feel, contrasting greatly to the White empty wilderness outside.

There were hundreds of people, all pale skinned and dressed in furs and hides who stood as Radanon lead Loki into the cave to stand before a man who sat atop a pile of stone steps which had been draped with fabrics and furs. He was well muscles and his hair was dark, but there was little to set him apart from the others. Beside him sat a beautiful woman with thick red hair that trailed down her shoulders in little curls.

This, he assumed was the Chief and his wife, so Loki did the sensible thing; he gave a polite, courteous bow.

"Chief Solvanin," he said, "Most gracious Lord of the Otaga, I thank you for your kind offer of hospitality."

The man nodded and Loki raised his head, "It's not often that strangers drop into the Crater," he spoke, "For fear of our wolves. But we are a generous people, Prince Loki and you are welcome here. Word has long since reached us of your peace between the Jotun and the Asgardians and we are thankful that war was not necessary. Tonight...you will be my honoured guest. Tonight...we feast!" he cried and a great wave of excitement flooded the echo-prone cave.

To Loki it seemed unimaginable to be hosting a feast when the world was in the midst of a famine brought on by the unusually cold weather, but he said nothing. Who was he to tell these people what to do?

As he quickly discovered, Otaga threw feats to rival those he remembered on Asgard, granted the surroundings were different, but the atmosphere was the same. There was music and dancing, drinking and gambling and, inevitably fights, but nothing that left alone too injured.

Loki sat opposite Solvanin and his wife with a small fire between them and elaborate mugs of an ale that he'd never before tried, but one that he was certain he could quickly grow addicted to.

After days of wandering alone in a frozen wilderness, Loki couldn't deny that although the people around him must have ulterior motives for treating a stranger with such kindness, it gave him a confusing sense of contentment. Perhaps it was because no one here seemed to care about what he was.

Now, though, because of the warmer temperature, Loki had made his skin pale again and his eyes were a muted grey rather than striking red. He blended much more easily now but it hadn't stopped the Chief from staring at him.

"My appearance offends you?" Loki raised an eyebrow when he could no longer stand the man's unblinking gaze.

"...I was lead to believe that the Asgardian God of Lies was just that, an Æsir...but you are not," he replied.

"I was born a Frost Giant," Loki said, "That much is true."

"Hmmm," Solvanin breathed.

"But you are Asgardian?" the lady, Shalia, asked.

"I am what I am," Loki told her.

"And what is that?" the Chief frowned.

"...I'm," the God of Lies gave a rueful scoff, "I'm not exactly sure."

"Radanon tells me that you have been walking on this frozen rock for days," Solvanin remarked and Loki nodded. "Why?" he asked.

"That is my business."

"As you wish," the man shrugged. "But he was surprised to find you alive. The winter is harsh this year..."

"Every season here is winter," Loki sneered.

"True," the lady smiled, "Very true."

"We heard of your dealings with King Helblindi," the Chief remarked some time later, "You narrowly avoided war...or so they say."

"What of it?" Loki muttered, haughtily.

"It was very fortunate, wasn't it, that Laufey perished?"

"Indeed."

"Hmmm. We did not want to interfere. We are strong warriors but against the might of Asgard we would be wiped out. Laufey came to us when he was planning his war but so did his son, Helblindi gave us a different offer. By our old laws we are bound in servitude to the Jotun...they may have called on that to fight and my people would have been slaughtered."

"My priorities had nothing to do with the Otaga," Loki told him.

"I know that."

"Chief!" a shrill voice cried out, hours later as the feast had begun to wind down.

"What?!" Solvanin demanded as a young man, a guard from the front entrance, ran forwards, clutching a large gash on his arm.

"What is it?" Shalia asked.

"The Dwarves! The Blue Dwarves!" the guard replied.

Before he could say another word, Solvanin had leapt to his feet and had started running to the mouth of the cave.

"Blue Dwarves?" Loki raised an eyebrow but the people left around him were too busy rushing around, arming themselves to answer him.

Contrary to their name, Loki saw that the Blue Dwarves were not actually blue and he found himself slightly disappointed to discover that fact. They looked quite different to the Dwarves he'd seen before, they were slightly taller for one and their armour was fashioned out of hides rather than fine gold and silver which was scarce on Jotunheim. He did see however, that their name might have come from the fact that they could shoot blue ice from their fingertips which they were using to freeze the Otaga Warriors.

For a while, Loki stood in the shadows, deflecting the odd blast that happened to come his way, after all, he had no quarrel with these Dwarves, nor was he obligated to fight for the Otaga. It was much more interesting to simply observe the chaos. There was a time when he would perhaps had interfered and stopped the battle completely, but his time wandering alone had done nothing to soften his heart. Alone, Loki's anger had been left to fester and though it hadn't been a long time at all, it had been enough.

The Dwarves had chosen the best possible time to attack and so Loki knew that they had to have been watching the Otaga tribe exceptionally closely. In the midst of battle, opposing forces generally displayed only the deepest hatred towards their enemy, but these two species appeared to loathe each other completely and Loki had no way of knowing why.

Loki suddenly saw that Solvanin had been rendered weaponless and he was surrounded by six Dwarves and he seemed resigned to his fate as was the way of his people. He had been bested, despite the being outnumbered for it mattered not, and now he would accept death. But Loki acted quickly and sent a blast of green magic out which threw the Dwarves back, rendering them unconscious.

The Chief stared in shock for a moment before reaching for his weapon and turning back to see Loki standing there. He gave a nod of thanks in his direction before returning to the fight.

Loki was usually against the business of helping people, he had no qualms in interfering if it meant he could cause mischief but he and to admit he had been very hungry until the Chief of the Otaga had generously fed him. Now, his debt was repaid so he turned his back on the fight and resumed his place at the fire inside the cave, helping himself to the remnants of the ale and the food.

"Why did you aid me only to flee from the fight?!" Solvanin demanded once the battle was done. The Chief was breathing heavily and he was covered in blooded wounds, his clothes torn and ragged as he leant on his sword.

"I owe no allegiance to you or the Dwarves. But you showed me a kindness," Loki said simply, "So I returned the favour. That is all."

"They attacked to steal our food," Solvanin explained.

"Clearly they lost or you would not be standing here."

"You have powerful magic."

"I do."

"You could have stopped it!"

"I've already told you..." Loki began with a sigh but the Chief had hauled him to his feet, dropping his weapon in the process, and held Loki up by the front of his coat.

"Innocent men and women died out there and you feel nothing?!" he yelled. "While they were dying you were eating of the very food they were fighting to defend! You coward!"

Loki's eyes narrowed in anger and with a blast of energy, he forced Solvanin back, the strong gust of wind slamming the Otaga's bruised back against the wall of the cave.

"You dare insult me! I am a god!" Loki cried, his eyes glowing with magic.

"Then why did you allow innocents to die? What kind of God would do such a thing?!"

Loki closed his eyes and looked away in an uncharacteristic display of weakness. "I am not required to save every soul whose path I cross," he said. Indeed, why should he save everyone? There had been no one there to save him when he had been in need; that was just the way the universe worked. It was cruel and unforgiving. Just because he had power now it didn't meant that he was now required to save people...like Thor.

"You saved mine."

"I owed you a kindness."

"Did you not owe my people as well? They gave you their food. They sang and danced in your presence. You spoke to them. You saw that they were good and kind people!"

"Good and kind people suffer every day. Is it not your duty to protect your people?"

"Is it not a god's duty to provide aid where he can?" Solvanin demanded.

"Oh?!" Loki sneered, "And who aids the gods when they need it? Where was my aid when I was..." he broke off, not about to tell of his recent bout of torture.

"...What?"

"Nothing!"

"...I..." the Chief sighed, "Thank you...you saved my life and I am obligated to acknowledge that."

"Consider it acknowledged," Loki snapped, "Now I really think it best that I leave..." he turned to go.

"Wait!"

Loki turned back slowly, raising an eyebrow at the cautious man who stood there, "Yes?" he prompted.

"We have little magical ability of our own and what we do have was gifted to us by the Frost Giants in the ancient times," Solvanin explained. "What I saw you do today...was...like nothing I have ever before seen.

"All I did was a simple spell," the God of Mischief shrugged elegantly. "Why do you tell me this?"

"I have Warriors, Healers and Wise Men aplenty but I would welcome a man of your talents. You would have wealth, in whatever form you desired, your word would be second only to my own, I offer you a place here among my people."

"Why? Were you not just furious with me?"

"I was, I am, but I am not so foolish as to let such an opportunity pass me by."

"And I am your opportunity," Loki sneered. "My loyalties cannot be bought. My power is not for sale," he said, furious.

Was that all he was? An opportunity? To Odin, he had been a stolen relic, a bargaining chip to be used to broker peace and now, here again, he was seen as someone's tool for glory and power. He refused to believe that this was all he was destined to be, merely a pawn in someone else's shadow and the Otaga Man was lucky that Loki had enough control over his magic that he didn't destroy everything around him in his anger, though he did feel the tingle of green fire at his fingertips for a moment.

"Do not ask this of me again, Chief Solvanin," Loki hissed. "I wish you and your tribe well," he sneered after a moment and walked away.

*1 The Otaga have a Wikipedia page and they are listed as natives of Jotunheim, I took a lot of liberties with their society since there wasn't a lot written about them. It says that they're war-like but like I said, I took some artistic liberties.

A.N. I admit that I completely invented everything in here about Trolls, I have no idea if there's anything in Norse myth about them, I'm just going off the films and there's nothing that mentions them that I can recall.