A/N: We'd like to apologize first of all, we haven't been able to update nearly as much as we wanted to. We're sorry, please don't hate us! That being said, it was caused by unforseen circumstances and we should now be able to post much more regularly. Once again, please feel free to leave us a review and tell us what you think, what you love, and what you think we can do better with!
Disclaimer: None of the following characters belong to us, nor does the universe this takes place in. All characters represented in this fiction are above the age of 18.
Frost giants were despicable to Loki. They were weak without a leader; however he was more than willing to provide one for them. He had settled a deal with them upon his defeat within the realm of Midgard, promising them this new land upon its capture. As much as Loki hated to admit it, the whole point for attempting the capture of this new land was the technological ineptitude of its inhabitants. He had underestimated the mortals his 'brother' held so dear to his heart on Earth. Those infuriating agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and that lumbering green oaf. Loki recalled the incident within Stark Tower and physically shook the memories away. He would not be made a fool of again. Not this time.
Loki looked at his surroundings and sneered. This cold barren landscape before him was not why he had come here. He wanted the fertile lands to the south. The lustrous scent of the breeze from the turquoise sea in the city these pathetic mortals called King's Landing.
He had been there before, many years ago. Adolescent curiosity took him to this land called Westeros. It had piqued his interest, but he dismissed it in favor of the possibilities presented by Earth. The failure in New York City drove him to reconsider Westeros . After assessing the terrain and strengths, it became clear that he needed the frost giants. He needed an army, regardless of his disdain for them.
If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the city. It was majestic; that was the only word that truly fit it. It was surrounded by a wall manned by men in armor and gold cloaks, the city watch he assumed. The buildings against the northwest side of the wall were poor and better described as hovels, the people dirty and the smell rank. But the further you progressed southeast, the more beautiful, the more graceful the buildings became. Loki's favorite feature was their church, which they called The Great Sept. It was apparently built by a particularly pious king in years past as an offering to the seven gods worshipped throughout this land. Remembering this, Loki suppressed a chuckle. They would soon be reevaluating which gods deserved worship and which didn't, particularly when one took their city.
Yes, he thought to himself. That will make a fine shrine to me when I rule these lands. Citizens will flock for miles just for a chance to worship my likeness in the house of their former gods.
He had also heard rumors of this "iron throne" that the King sat on. Loki had had no opportunity to see it, though he expected he would soon. It was said to be forged out of the weapons of fallen enemies and still sharp to the touch. The commoners said that if any but the true King by blood sat on it, it would run them through. Loki knew better. He knew that anyone could be the true King if only they had a big enough army, and he was working on amassing one.
He glanced at his army, lazily lounging while they waited for the rest of his troops to arrive. They arrived in groups at various places through the area. Loki had decided to begin his invasion from the north, reasoning that his giants would be less noticeable in a snowy wasteland than if they arrived on the beaches of the city they called King's Landing. This did mean he sometimes had to locate the newly arrived troops to lead them back to where they had set up main camp.
A few days previously, as they had been searching for a place to settle, they had run across a village inhabited by what looked like uncivilized humans. They were living in small huts and looked terrified as the giants came across them. They grabbed what they could carry and ran. The giants had their fun with the stragglers.
Loki's attention was drawn back to his troops as sounds of melee washed over him. A pair of the giants had begun fighting, no doubt over something unimportant. Upon closer inspection, it was the leg of some faceless, unfortunate mortal plaything. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. So barbaric.
He shifted his gaze sharply as the soft sound of paws crunching fresh snow drifted almost soundlessly through the wind. Sensing a familiar presence, he dropped his guard. Loki waited patiently as the feline approached him. The leopard was graceful, unusually so for his size. His coat shone in the moonlight. Black spots and white fur came into view intermittently as he passed through the rays shining between the trees. Every so often, the light would catch his eyes just right and they burned so vibrantly blue they almost created a light of their own. Aegir. Loki's face cracked into a genuine smile at the sight of his faithful companion. It only broadened when Aegir approached him and nudged his palm with the wet tip of his nose until Loki gave him the proper greeting. Loki chuckled and placed his hand on the feline's head, obediently scratching behind his ears.
Aegir had been by Loki's side for many years. He was his only friend, and the only being Loki trusted implicitly. As a child, he had been Loki's confidante and partner in crime. Now, he was that and so much more. Most importantly at the moment, Aegir served as Loki's eyes and ears in this frozen wasteland. He placed his hand on Aegir's head, looked deep into his eyes and began to sift through the memories within. Searching for the most recent, Loki was not expecting to find anything of any great importance. Disjointed pictures, scents and sounds surrounded him.
Sunset. Rabbit tracks. The scent of blood. Screams. People chased by giants fleeing a village. Unfamiliar voices. A group of men on horseback. A pair of men examining the Seal of Asgard.
Loki stopped there. He focused on the image of the two men. One was quite plump, fat in fact, a crop of brown hair adorning his head and traveling downwards to his chin. Pale, dull eyes poked out of his moon-shaped face. This was not the one that interested him. The other man appeared to be younger than the first, with a leaner build and a solemn countenance. He had black hair, long enough to graze his shoulders, and piercing eyes a grey so dark they were almost black. He wore an expression that was unreadable.
Loki removed his hand from the cat's head, frowning. He didn't count on any mortals finding the Seals scattered around the landscape so soon. They had been very careful to not leave any witnesses, and he disliked the idea of someone stumbling across one and getting curious. These men will have to be dealt with, Loki decided.