Chapter 6: Dark Hero
"Oh Loki…what happened?"
He didn't want to raise his head, too ashamed…
He heard a sigh, when he didn't answer, it was soft and melancholy, and he sensed there was a smile behind it, he peaked up to see his mother's expression. Her hair was like a silver and gold waterfall that ended just below her shoulders, her skin was a soft cream with laughter lines and dimples, forged long ago, but her sort sky blue eyes were trained on him with such sweet concern it made him want to hold on to her long flowing white gown, that always smelt of honey, for forever.
"I fell"
He tried to hide his need to sniffle behind a cough, and quickly wiped his tears with the sleeve of his favourite green and golden hemmed tunic, afraid mother would judge him the way father did when he had cried in front of him during the start of his training lessons.
"Ssshh, there is no need to cry now, is there"
His mother embraced him with spreading warmth that flowed through to him in the embrace, whilst minding his cut knee in the process.
He heard the soft rumble in her chest before she spoke…
"Don't worry my baby; mommy will get this healed in a second"
My baby…
Loki eased his right eye open, he hadn't dreamed like that in years, centuries, even. At best, he got nightmares. Was it a memory he had lost long ago? Or just something sweet his mind eased him into to sleep and rest? He was… unsure.
Loki tried pushing up his body up with his left hand, but almost instantly stopped, there was a sudden burst of pain that felt like his muscles had been bruised and pulled, whilst being teased out with tweezers , he couldn't even lean on it.
He rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up by his right arm, he then set himself on his knees.
By the hated all-father…
His arm, well what was left of it, had clotted, and was left to a stump. He eased his eyes shut and could feel the bile burning at the back of his throat, it would heal naturally, he hoped. Using his fingers he trailed them across his back, the wounds were deep. He had been too exhausted to examine himself earlier; now, he could feel the true extent of Odin's torture.
He dropped his hand onto his thighs.
How long have I been here?
The hallway was empty…except for the slight trail of blood leaking onto the light grey concrete walk-way.
They will be here soon… need to find the tesseract.
Shakily he stood, leaning against one of the pale grey walls that enclosed him. Last time, he had sensed the object of his desire, heading for the pathetic Midgard. Hopefully the mortals had not found it or were even aware of its returned presence, but there was doubt, he was unsure of how long he had been asleep in this wretched dungeon.
To be sure he spread out his fingers on his good hand, in front of him, and soon found the slight pull of energy that was unique to the Tesseract. He always enjoyed this, the magic pulsed around him almost as if it was a living entity, comforting him when he was most lonely, he had been without it for a long time, and Odin had made sure the chains that bound him would inhibit his remaining powers.
Hello old friend…
No time to get acquainted again, he needed to find his cosmic cube. He used some of what little magic he had left to create a map of the nine realms, he was sure the cube wouldn't have travelled beyond the realms, when it was so unstable. The images of the nine planetary realms were before him with a background of beautiful stars the sizes of pinpricks, and clouds of nebulae that had swirling gases the colours of greens, reds and blues that spun around each other in such sweet harmony.
He looked at the pathetic Midgard, the spinning realistic image before him was no bigger than his hand. If only it were truly like that in reality…he could've crushed them in a second.
'Sigh' Pleasant dreams.
He spread his fingers just over the image of Midgard feeling for the static and looking for a more precise location of the cube.
Nothing…
The magic had whispered to him, the cube was no longer on Midgard.
"THEN WHERE?!" he shouted at the magic tendrils surrounding him, how could it not be on Midgard has Thor already found it and brought it back? The notion of that caused him great pain, he knew it would be in the relic room, along with the other enchanting and mystical objects that were already held there, the same room that would have a number of guards and an improved destroyer that the wretched All-father would've purchased from the dwarves to replace the one Thor had destroyed.
Destroyers were hard to destroy.
Whilst Loki had been thinking of the dreaded possibility, the tendrils of dark magic, he had summoned, were quickly searching each realm on the mystical map, eager to please their dark lord and master.
Jotunheim, our Lord, is where the cube is… Our Lord…
The tendrils whisper, made him turn instantly to the white and pale blue globe that hovered before him. The aquatic blue spot on the globe told him of its almost exact position; once he is on the planet he could use his power to find the exact position.
But, Jotunheim… his birthplace…
Never, he physically shuddered; he would always despise them, those abominations of nature. He had always hated them since he heard his first stories when he was a young one, how they marked their babes from birth to show their strength and lack of mercy for their own ones, imagine what'll they do to their enemies, his father had once said to scare him. He would never be one of them.
But…
He shook himself.
Forgetting that, he began feeling the slight hum within him, he analysed his magic that was flowing through him right now, at best he had a teleportation and a few destruction spells in him, plenty to get in there and out with.
He washed the magic away with a flick of his hand, and gathered the energy within his hand, muttering the chant of travel, feeling the golden magic swirl around him in a whirlpool of warmth and static, closing his eyes just to rest in the warmth and to regain his strength, whilst hobbling on his feet, trying to regain his balance from the sudden onset of dizziness, befalling him from the lack of blood.
Coldness bit him sharply; he lacked even his basic armour in this climate.
Well, this is…lovely.
Smiling to himself, he was in a corner of the throne room, luckily the room was unoccupied by any living creature, the cool air blew into his throat, easing the bile building at the back of his throat back down and cooling the uncomfortable heat in his cheeks and forehead. He could make out the jagged back throne chair that was transparent and a slight pale blue.
He spread the fingers on his right hand feeling the static, oh yes, it was defiantly here. Excitement unfurled in the tight of his chest. Soon… soon they shall all pay. He followed the signature signal, and moved with the static.
He passed through the hallway on the right, his feet shuffling through the snow, two more corridors and soon he entered a hallway with pillars that reached his shoulders and were adorned with relics and worthless Frost giant art, when he saw the two giants guarding a downward stairway, he quickly hid behind one of the ice pillars. He made sure the static was leading him down there before he cast an illusion of himself right in front of them, he frowned it was not the best, it was blurry and slightly shifting, as if it was haze or fog, but the giants must've been tired and hankering for a battle because they attacked it without question.
He smiled and creped behind them, whilst they got up, from flailing over each other after the illusion of him, he quickly stood over the left one and quickly placed his hand just above the chin and quickly jerked it to the right which was followed by an audible crunch.
The body of the recently felled one held the other underneath him, he grinned at the abhorrent creature that was struggling, it grunted at him, but he could see the present fear in its soulless red eyes.
Hm, fear… the pain that gnawed at the bottom of a creature's stomach, causing an electric charge to frazzle his throat and heart, the pain, the fear…unbearable.
He looked at the creature…your just too lucky. He reached for the chin and twisted so, the crunch…delicious.
He grinned, admiring his work for a second; he turned towards the stairway and ran down wards. He skidded when he hit the bottom, snow seeping into his raw, broken blisters which covered his feet. He would have to ignore that.
This can't be right… they place the most powerful weapon in the universe… in a dungeon?
He faced a hallway, white pale walls, separated by sections of bars made of aquatic blue ice.
Luxury his cell was, compared to these, the cell he had been in was much bigger than these; the snow had been blown in some way down this hallway, so it had piled up in the corners, however there was a pile of snow in the middle, wait…oh
Shaking his head he moved on, vile creatures. At least his guards had made sure to check if he was alive, or to cart the other bodies away, in his dungeon.
The god whisked out his hand searching for the cube, following the corridor, whilst pondering the oddity of why the damned frost giants would place such an object in the dungeon of all places, and with such little fortification, maybe to confuse the enemy. It was possible.
The static charge in his hand jumped, he turned to the right then to the left.
It was there…
It…was…there?
Frowning he placed his hand on one of the aquatic, blue ice bars and squatted to get a better look, it…it was a pile of snow?
Leaning on his left stub against the bars he moved his good hand through to the snow that had built up in the middle, frantically digging through it with his clawed up hand.
Could it be a trap…designed to make me think it is here, for them to strike out against me.
No, unlikely the whole cosmos still thinks I'm locked up.
Except Heimdall.
A soft type of fabric touched his fingertips, his thoughts interrupted he retracted his hand back to the bars he quickly summoned a small fire destruction spell he held his flaming hand against the bar and watched as the bright orange and exuberant red diminish the colossal bar to a puddle of clear water with an audible hiss of steam.
Squeezing himself through the gap, noticing how much weight he lost, he quickly grasped the shape lying in the snow. Lifting it up, he wiped away the white powder away from…
MORTAL…
Dropping the creature he quickly rubbed away the sticky snow and flakes of dried blood, attempting to vomit. He had touched one, had felt its weak pathetic heartbeat against his right forearm…he had felt its weakness. Finally he stopped dry heaving; the mortal in front of him was un-distinguishable.
He was sure it was a female, but the black and blue open flesh wounds over her body seems to have made identifying the creature by discerning any notable features impossible. Except for areas of torn open and ice burned flesh, and other areas covered with brown dried blood 'her' flesh was almost the same as his pale white skin, but 'she' had pinpricks of baby pink skin, the mortal was cold.
Placing his hand on 'her' side, against his revulsion, he spread his magic over 'her' form, allowing the tendrils to slither over her form the magic soon came back; this creature had been in possession or at least in contact with the cube. There was still a magical residue on 'her' form. Now he understood why the frost giants had placed, what he had thought was the tesseract, in a dungeon. 'She' was going to be interrogated.
Not if I can help it…
Raising his hand, he felt tried to feel the static in the air, but no, the only static he was feeling was coming from the 'girl'.
He threw his arm over his eyes and clenched his teeth, raspy breath coming, from his mouth. A huge pressure building on his head, making him even more hot and bothered. Sanity was fleeing him, his rage building like a torrent river.
Easy, calm down. The voice in his head was not helping, he wanted to rip the head off of every creature in the cosmos, and yet he would still not be satisfied.
Turning his head, he looked at the creature on the ground; it was this thing's fault. 'She' had hidden it.
"Where is it?" he gnarled whilst gripping the creature by the sides.
He shook 'her', but 'her' eyes remained closed. But there was dried blood staining her mouth and chin, he eased her mouth open. Even he grimaced; the frost giants had delivered their most vigilant of tortures against this mortal, but underestimating the fact that mortals were easily killed.
Her teeth had been ripped from her gums. Stupid creatures, didn't realize midgardians need teeth to talk.
He would have to heal 'it'…
He only had enough magic for teleportation spell and a healing spell. All allies' he had left, were now gone after his attempt to take over Midgard had failed…disastrously.
Hm… the bunker under Midgard, where he had stayed while planning his assault upon Midgard had only been occupied once he had gotten there, it could be empty now, and maybe even some supplies were still there.
Grimacing he picked up the little mortal and set her on his right shoulder, and allowed the swirling gold around himself to envelope his lean body and the mortal's form, whilst he closed his eyes and let his mind wonder to his memory of the place, the endless grey corridors, the mildew scented, pheasant sized, rooms.
He sensed the temp around him had warmed, the 'female' moaned softly against him. Mortals annoyed him, their existence was for nothing. But for Thor, they were just more females to copulate with.
Thankfully, the bulb lights had managed to stay on in this desolate place, and lit the hallway just enough to make his way through. Staying to the left he found his room, it was…sparse to say the most, but at least they left the cot. Crouching down he released the mortal from his grip and let it fall with a slight thud.
From the looks of 'her' she would not last the night, nor be able to answer any of his questions if she did. The dear Captain's emblem was emblazoned upon her tunic; he would enjoy killing this one indeed. But for now his precious magic would be wasted upon such a pathetic creature, even the royal hounds at the palace were more deserving of his magic than this creature.
Holding his right palm to the lower of her right cheek, he pushed the healing green glow into her jaw and willed new roots of teeth to be formed. The green glow lit her from the inside, like fire beneath his fingertips, such intricate designs of the veins within the body of the mortal did not interest him, and in fact he only pondered how many veins he could rip out of the mortal before she died…probably not many.
He soon moved his palm to her wrist and released the magic into her, only enough to heal the serious, fatal wounds but not the others like the festering black gash on her left forearm that he assumed she had got from a frost giant's touch.
The magic ebbed inside of her, making what were once first degree frostbite injures into baby pink flesh, but he was only helping some of her wounds, not the ones that could get her later, why should he? He only needed her for a short time.
She was fine now, except for the less life threatening but still hideous injuries upon her form. Loki eased himself onto the cot and carefully placed the slightly ripped fabrics that had been adjourning the cot over his arm and rest of his lower body, his back and torso couldn't even handle the weight of the air without causing him pain. His magic completely drained he would have to wait till morn to heal himself, but first he would have to rest in order to regain his physical and magical strength.
Loki eased his eyes closed.
Soon…ssssoon…
Oh god I'm so, so, so sorry! I had exams up the butt and had no time to do this, but know that summer is here I can probably update this either every other day or every weekend.
By the way this story will have the avenger's point of view, and is kinda set after iron man 3, will warn if I have spoilers in chapter. Also this is a lokixoc story, forgot to mention.