Darkness and Light
"Unhand me you pig!" Loki shrieked; ice dagger bloomed in his other hand. His eyes were wild in pain and fury, his lips pulled back in a snarl, his teeth bare.
Thor shoved Loki away in that split of a second just before the plunging dagger tore through his arm.
Loki let out a scream of rage, his crimson eyes glaring at Thor murderously, his ebony locks wild, dangling over his cruel face. Blood flowed from where the damnable Aesir had grabbed him.
"Have enough dog?" Thor stood tall and proud; looking condescendingly at the Jotun as he held mjolnir in his unscathed hand.
Loki hissed in indignant and fury.
He will not be spoken as if he were nothing! He had never been nothing! He is Loki! The Crown prince of Jotunheim! And those who looked down upon him will pay in blood!
"You will pay for this!" He snarled and charged, swishing his ice dagger.
Thor swung mjolnir, missing Loki as the Jotun leaped through the air and over the mass of guards in fits of agility, landing smoothly on his sandaled feet. The gems in Loki's hair glinted. The guards came at him at once with spears, surrounding him from every corner.
"Ignis!" Loki hissed in a deep rumbling voice. And with a wave of his hand, emerald flame blazed, spread with terrifying speed through the room.
The guards roared and howled as they dance away from the flame; as they tore at their burning capes.
Thor charged through the blaze at Loki in fury.
He saw red! His expression contorted in rage.
Loki hissed, barely dancing out of Thor's swinging blows he leaped over Thor again; and letting out a battle cry this time, he plunged his dagger down Thor's back as hard as he could. The ice dagger broke at its hilt when the tip stabbed through Thor's armor, piercing into flesh.
Thor let out a howl, but with alarming grace he turns and smashes mjolnir against Loki's chest with all the anger that was in him, shattering bones.
Loki let out a cry as he fell onto the hard ground as if a rag doll.
Thunders clapped.
Loki coughed, spattering blood onto the marble floor as hot boiling pain began to rapidly fill his heaving chest.
"You dare attack the Son of Odin!" Thor roared, wrenching out the icy dagger. "You will pay!"
He raised mjolnir.
His face was pale and he was shaking in fury. All thoughts of diplomacy, all thoughts of the casket of winter, all thoughts of the prince of Jotunheim were far gone from his mind. The runt before him is nothing more than a monster deserving death!
Loki's eyes widen in terror as he watched mjolnir coming down at him. He hissed; bringing his arms up to shield himself.
"Beast!" Thor cursed.
The force of mjolnir broke Loki's vambrance and shatters the bones beneath; a long sharp broken piece rip right through Loki's skin. Loki let out a terrible scream of agony, doubling over when Thor raised his hammer the second time, seeking to finish this beast, seeking to crack open its skull.
"Stop!" A voice shouted suddenly.
A second of hesitation was all it took for Loki to murmur his spell and vanish just in time for mjolnir to smash down. The impact crack the marble ground.
Lightning flashed.
"No!" Thor cried, snapping his angry gaze up to see who dared distract him.
It was Frigga. The Queen of Asgard, clad in a flowing gown of glittering gold. Her face is beautiful and slender, neither young nor old. Her golden locks were braided over her lovely head and her eyes were the color of cerulean. Her usually gentle expression was harsh and stern; clearly unimpressed at what had happened.
"Flagro evanesco" She whispered, giving a wave of her slender fingers, snuffing the crackling flames in a motion.
"My queen" The guards bowed.
"Mother" Thor said.
"I will speak to my son alone. You are all dismissed" She commanded.
The guards did not need telling twice as they started to fill out of the room at once.
"Find that Jotun and have him chained!" Thor growled at them.
Frigga said nothing, waiting till the last of the guards had left before she turned to round at Thor in anger.
"Mot-"
"What were you thinking Thor?!" Frigga flared. "Had you killed that Jotun, there would have been war!"
"If it's a war they want, then a war they will get!" Thor growled.
"Thor!"
"They broke into our home and took what is ours. If I were father, I would have brought our army to Jotunheim and kill every one of those beast. What I show them now is mercy!"
"Mercy?! By butchering their prince?!"
"Mercy by only butchering their prince when I have the reason to butcher them all!"
"And damn Asgard into another four hundred years of war?!"
"Father would have done it! He would have showed them their place!"
Frigga tightened her lips as she looked at Thor; then after a moment, her eyes softened. Thor is trying too hard to be Odin, when he had not the slightest notion of who Odin truly is. Thor only knows the face of Odin the stern father, and he hears stories of Odin the conqueror.
Frigga shook her head.
"No Thor…your father would have shown mercy" She said softly. "You see him through the eyes of a boy that hears of the glory of war. You see him as a conqueror, but he is so much more than that. He is a King my son. And King knows mercy when there is room for it"
Thor looked far from convince, but Frigga did not push it. Thor needs to find it in himself to rule as he sees fit, not how he thinks Odin would see fit. Her son has much to learn.
Frigga heaved a sigh, as she brushed Thor's stray strands from his tired face.
"My son… Without your father, there is no cage on Asgard powerful enough to hold that sorcerer, nor chain strong enough to bind him"
"…"
"So why is he still here? Think" She said.
"Perhaps he cannot return to Jotunheim. He does not have the means to?" Thor guessed.
"No Thor. He has magic enough to return as he has to travel here"
"Then wh-" It took a second before Thor looked at her with the sudden realization. "The casket is still here" He murmured.
Frigga smiled.
"Yes… but if not, there is something else that he seeks here. And I fear what that might be" She reach down to touch Thor's hand gently. "The most terrifying foes are the ambitious ones, for they would flatter you one moment and slit your throat the next. There is nothing they would not do. So watch him Thor"
Rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning struck over the dark firmament. The wind howled like cries of wolves and the rain poured as if someone had ripped a hole through the vast space above.
Loki wheezed, he coughed, blood sputtered from his gasping lips like black vomit, trickling down his chin to the filthy stone ground. A hand pressed hard against the wall by his side for support as he stumbled down the reeking alley.
His lungs were on fire; his every breath was agony, as if drawing scalding oil down his lungs. He could barely breathe; his lungs rapidly drown in his own blood. He struggles to keep his eyes apart, he struggles to put one foot in front of the other, pushing himself along. The damage to his shattered ribs and punctured lungs were so extensive that not even his seid could heal.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was dying, but he refused to accept it.
He'd be damn if he died now!
He clenched his jaws, fire burning in his veins.
And he vowed that Thor will pay for this! He vowed that Asgard will pay for this! He will not die here! He refused to die before he sees Asgard burn to the ground! Before he sees the blood of Aesir pour! Before he hears the screams of their women and cries of their children! Before he sits on the Golden throne of Asgard with her city on her knees!
He will not die before he sees these things come to pass. He will not allow it!
He let out a violent cough; his knees buckled sending him crashing to the ground. He whimpered letting his body sagged down against the filthy wall. His head pounded, his broken body jerked, shivered and shook as rain drenched him.
The coppery scent of blood was thick in the air and there were slick wet noise crackling from his shattered arm by his side.
Slowly, he looked down upon his broken forearm. The jagged piece of his broken bone that tore right through his elbow was prominent and bloody. The metal of his broken vambrance were jammed deep into his bloody forearm.
Squeaks of large starving brown rats echoed through the stinking alley. One or two were nibbling and licking the trail of blood he left just a little away. And more were scurrying along the filthy wall and dirty drain. He could see them darting across the place, from shadow to shadow, all crowding closer and closer to him. The stench of his blood is attracting them; the stench of a dying creature is drawing them in.
He is losing a lot of blood and fast.
No seid could close his wounds if he did not first pluck out the wretched metal embedded deep in his flesh or pushed the jagged piece of his bone back into his skin or removed the fracture bone that puncture his lungs; slowly drowning him in his own blood.
Loki let out a soft whimper of anguish, as his only functioning hand shakily reached to unclasp the leather that held his vambrance in place. He needed to remove them least he bleed to death.
Slick wetness whispered.
Loki drew in a shuddering gasp; his trembling fingers grabbed the metal. He braised himself. And in a motion, he hauled the bloody metal right off his flesh, the sharp bended pieces dug out a chunk of tissue.
Blood poured.
Excruciating pain shot up his entire limb. Like fire! Like Hel storm it rips through his entire being!
"Argh!" Loki let out a strangled scream, gritting his jaws so hard it hurts, his abdomen clenched, his head bowed. His entire body trembled in anguish and agony as he clumsily dropped the bloody metal onto the ground with a clank.
"Ugh... uh..." He moaned, rapidly suffocating in his own blood, letting his head collapse back against the hard structure behind him.
He swallowed, coughed and sputtered. It is not done yet.
His eyes wondered back to his protruding bone.
What needs to be done have to be done.
He drew in a deep breath through his dilating nostril and slowly, shakily, his hand shifted over to his bloodied and shattered forearm, hovering over the jutted bone. He let out a soft whimper, clenching his jaws tight as his fingers trembled, his breath coming in frantic and shallow pants.
Without giving himself the chance of doubt he started pushing the bone in.
At once, pain, excruciating pain speared through him, through the very core of his being, so wholly it numbed even his shrieking mind. Loki let out a loud howl of agony, his toes curled; his eyes snapped shut in pure torture as tears of pain seeped beneath his tight lids.
Inch by inch, his bone eased through torn tissues. He could feel the wet crackling of wet raw flesh and blood, his tissues tearing to make way for it. His entire body shook as he forced himself to push further. And at one point, the pain was so intense, so excruciating that for a moment his mind blanked and he thought couldn't push further.
Just a little more... A little more, he urged himself.
"Norns!" He gasped, forcing the last of his bone in.
He coughed, blood and mucus dribbled from his lips, his lungs burn and he collapsed, his head hit the pavement. Rain caresses down his anguished face; his eyes were wide and blank as he struggled to breathe.
How long Loki lay on his side, clutching his shattered forearm he could not tell. He slept and he wakes and he slept again. His seid that was healing him drained every drop of his strength.
Hours bleed into days.
His body burn with fever as his wounds festered. And for the first time he shivered in cold. Something he had never felt before.
He was plunged from one nightmare to the next.
He dreamt of blood, he dreamt of fire. He dreamt of darkness coming for him, inky black tendrils like claws, reaching for him, dark deformed shapes dancing all about him. And mangled creatures the shape of man, hundreds and hundreds of them, coming for him, moving erratically, their thin limbs jerked, throwing one in front of the other, dirty broken nails clawed the bloody ground, and some move as if serpents, slithering towards him. They let out ululating wails and sobs and their wide mouth was as black as the abyss.
Loki feared them.
"Stay away from me!" He bellowed in pure naked terror, seeking to run from them.
But they were fast, slithering as if their bodies were boneless. And soon he was surrounded. He turned round and round, seeing them all around him, and without warning a bony hand jerks forth and grabbed his ankle hard.
Loki screamed, jolting him awake.
For nights he dreamt of death, of evil untold coming for him.
It was always the same dream, and in those dream there was always a little girl with wild unruly ebony locks staring at him, watching his every move with crimson eyes filled with malice and hate.
"Come to me...my dearest father..." She would hiss as if a serpent. "Come..."
Her face was frightening; half rotted away while the other was pale and dead.
Loki knew her, and he feared her wrath.
Hela, the daughter he sacrificed a long time ago, in exchange for knowledge of the darkest of sorcery. Sorcery that drew its strength from the realm of the dead.
She never forgave him, swearing to drag his wretched soul down into her burning flames when his time comes. And so she eagerly waits for him, rejoice with every dark spell he cast, for every such spell ate away a small bit of Loki and every such spell drew her closer, thinning Loki's veil between the living and the dead, until she could finally reach through to grab him.
But until then, she will haunt his every resting moment.
By the third day, his feverish mind was so disoriented he could barely tell if he was awake or asleep, or if he was sitting or lying on the mucky stone ground, or if anything were real or the illusion of his own burning mind.
He was so jumbled; he thought he had been dreaming when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer and closer to him. A hot rough hand touches his shoulder, a touch so gentle, Loki had thought he imagined it.
He let out a soft moan, forcing his heavy lids apart. His vision was blurry and foggy.
"Drink" A deep voice said, placing the tip of a wineskin against Loki's parched lips.
The voice was strangely familiar, yet Loki could not place it.
"Who...?" Loki murmured groggily.
"Thor"
"Thor..." The name tasted bitter on his tongue.
Fury and anger surged in him suddenly like a terrible beast. He wanted to rise up and spit at his face, he wanted to put a dagger through the monster's beating heart and carve it right out of his chest for what he had done!
He turned his cracked lips away from the wineskin.
"Here to mock a dying creature?" Loki sneered.
"No. Drink" Thor said again, putting the tip to Loki's lips.
"What poison!" He spat.
"None. I do not desire your life"
Loki let out a soft chuckle, his chest hurts.
"Oh why Aesir...?" He smiled, design to irritate. "You favour a Jotun pet in your court...?"
Thor snorted.
A Jotun pet? If Loki was the pet, he'd be the very sort to rip open the throat of the one that feed him. No thank you. Jotuns have no honour. The only things they respect are strength and power.
"I am no fool Jotun. A living prince is much more useful than a dead one"
If they will not go to war, then they will hold Jotunheim's dearest Crown Prince as hostage on Asgard. That should be enough to keep those monsters on a leash even if they did have the Casket of Ancient Winter. And if those Jotun beast wants their little prince back, then they will have to come to them. They will be the first to request an audience with him. They will be the first to bend the knee.
But if war was more to the Jotun's taste, then the Jotuns will be the one to make the first strike. And in return, Asgard will have the perfect excuse to destroy them completely and utterly without looking like the aggressor realm. It was perfect he decided.
"Now drink" Thor sighed.
"No frost giant will bend the knee to you for me" Loki said bitterly, looking up upon the face that hovered over him.
"You are the Crown Prince"
"An unwanted Crown Prince"
Thor said nothing.
The sun behind the King hurts Loki's eyes.
Another question came to Loki's mind. How is Thor touching him without hurting him too badly?
He focused his eyes on the King for a moment, before letting his gaze slip to the gentle hand on his shoulder. Thor's hand was covered in black leather, no doubt infused with seid.
"How considerate..." Loki mocked.
Thor did not rise to the bait, concern evident on his face, as he looked worriedly over the state of the Jotun.
Loki looked like dead itself. Surrounded by at least a dozen stiff rat carcasses, he was soil in his own shit and piss; his feverish body oiled with sweat and dried blood was circling with flies. His cheeks were gnawed, his skin stretch tight over his high cheek bones; his hair in tangled mess and the fur he wore was mangy and filthy. The wound of Loki's shattered forearm were festering badly, the bones that had healed had grown the wrong way, crippling the Jotun's left hand and he could hear him wheeze with every desperate draw of breath.
This creature looked nothing like the proud warrior that had slaughtered Thor's guards in cold blood on the first day. But Thor would be a fool if he thought that Loki had been tamed. Loki is anything but tame. Merely weaken for the moment.
And even now, there is a raging fire that burns ever brighter, hotter, in the depths of those blood red eyes. The sort that enthralls Thor, the same sort that send thrills of excitement inching down his spine when he hunted wild animals.
Loki is feral, fierce and deadly dangerous. Loki is a child of winter, with the will of fire.
"Drink" Thor gave the wineskin a shake.
The sound of slugging water in the skin reminded Loki of his thirst.
"Take it" Thor insisted.
Loki glared at Thor with contempt, his jaws clenched tight for such a long moment that Thor thought that Loki was going to refuse. Then suddenly, Loki's hand reached up to grudgingly fumble at the skin.
"Let go!" Loki gritted stubbornly. He wanted to hold it himself but he was too weak; dropping the skin before he could put it to his lips. He cursed.
"Here" Thor helped him; slipping a hand beneath Loki's sweaty skull, he lifted it at an angle and tipped the water into Loki's lips.
He watched Loki drink eagerly, the water from his mouth, dribbled down his chin. Even when clouded with the hatred and disgust all Aesir held for Jotuns, Thor cannot deny that this beast fascinates him, as he let his cerulean eyes roam over the creature he had grew up hearing vile stories of.
Loki drank and he drank till he felt sick. Then he turned his lips away and Thor stopped tipping.
Mists of frost swirled and rise, retracting and extending, curling beneath titan pillars of ice, endowed with great carvings of serpents that slithered over its great height, their eyes gleaming with the reddest of rubies. At least a dozen pillars stood over the vast hall that seems to stretch endlessly.
Before Laufey's throne of steel and ice, his prodigal sons stood before him, holding the casket of ancient winter to their king.
Oh how long had Laufey wished for her. How long had Laufey yearned for her; yearned to restore the crumbling Jotunheim back to its formal glory once more.
For centuries, he had dreamt of nothing else! Oh how many times in his moments of anger and blind rage had he vowed that the day the casket is return to him, he would pay back the debt he owed Asgard with interest?! That he would pay them back all that they had done to Jotunheim and more?! A hundred folds more!
But right now, he could find neither joy nor triumph even when the casket is finally before him.
How could he? When it came at the cost of Loki! The child of his body! His first born!
"Why have you brought her back to me?" Laufey whispered. His scarlet gaze was as harsh and as cold as winter; anger sweltering beneath his icy demeanor. "Do you think I would sacrifice your brother for this?!" Laufey roared, standing at once to his feet.
"This is what Loki wants" Helblindi said.
"He knows not what he wants! He knows nothing!"
"He knows that you would not allow him to do this! Make dam understand, is what Loki said to me"
"And what is it that I should understand, Helblindi?" Laufey growled, stepping down from his throne, towering over Helblindi and Býleistr.
The royal guards around the room stiffened.
"That... That his life is his to sacrifice..."
"Loki had not a single notion of what life is!" Laufey spat.
"He sacrifices everything for our sake!" Helblindi cried.
"And you believe him" Laufey wanted to sneer. "You Helblindi, worship him like a dog before his shrine of lies. And upon his steps you listen to his every word in earnest. Believing every whisper to be the Holy word of God"
"He does this for us! For Jotunhiem! Why can't you see it?!"
Laufey hissed.
"Don't you understand it?!" Helblindi demanded. "He wants us to live! Not just survive, not just cling pathetically onto life at the end of the universe!" And when Laufey said nothing, Helblindi cried. "Our people are dying my King! What life do we have?! What life do you see?!"
Still Laufey remained silent; his scarlet eyes looked back down at casket of ancient winter between Heldlindi's hands. There was nothing to read on the severe edge of Laufey's face, even as turmoil of emotions brew beneath his icy facade.
Suddenly Býleistr spoke.
"Dam. A war is coming whether you will it or not" His eyes wondered over the casket. "And this time, we will be victorious..."
Laufey looked upon his youngest. Býleistr turn to meet Laufey's scarlet gaze.
"For a thousand years the Aesir had known peace, comfort and richness" Býleistr said. "Chances are, their seasoned warriors have grown fat, lazy and weak. And the younger ones who had grown in luxury and wealth would be too proud and too stupid to know the true face of war. They would demand a feathered bed in their tents and see it as slight when their wineskins are filled with water rather than the finest wine. Use the casket to build your army my King, and I swear to you, victory is yours"
"You speak very well..." Laufey snorted. "But too much flattery. You might want to keep it subtle"
"I'll remember that" Býleistr said.
Laufey's eyes roamed the smooth glowing casket.
Another war.
Loki seeks another war in the name of Jotunheim. Despite what Loki had told Helblindi, despite what Helblindi or Býleistr would believe of their brother's cleverly woven lies, Laufey knew better.
This is not about Jotunheim, at least not entirely. Loki wants to prove something. Loki is always trying to prove something to Laufey, to Farbauti, when he needed to prove nothing.
Slowly, Laufey lid his large hand over the icy smoothness of the casket. It hummed to him a song of old winter. He watched the glow brightened and dimmed and brightens again. The icy blue radiance within ripples and stirs gently, like the moving of slow flowing water. It was as if she was calling for him. Her true master; to rise up and take what is offered!
The Aesirs are nothing more than murderers and thieves in fine stitches. They make their wars under the facade of justice, compassion, humanity and love.
Laufey would be a damn fool if he believe for a moment that back then Odin had set his Golden army upon him, waged a war upon him, for the sake of Midgard. If it were true, Odin would not have followed them back to Jotunheim and set the realm of ice afire. And loot and rip, all they could and gave nothing in return but their so called mercy.
Mercy... that they had spared the Jotun King. Mercy...that they had let the Jotun King live...
Live for what? Live to see his people suffer? Live to see the Jotun children die in the tens of thousands as plague ate them away? Live to see the once mighty realm wither into the shell of her formal self? Live to see his realm die a slow agonizing death?
This is Aesir's mercy. This is Aesir's grace. This is Aesir's love...
Midgard was just a pretty excuse. The truth is, it was the opportunity Odin had waited for to destroy the might of Jotunheim. The one realm that could potentially grow to surpass the strength of the Realm of Eternal.
"Loki will have his army..." Laufey rasped; his fingers curled. When else would he ever have such a chance again to repay the debt long due?
The Aesir will come for the casket, and when they do...they will die...
Býleistr smirks. "This will be a glory measured in blood, my King..."
Loki's clenched hard against the ebony sheets beneath him, his sweaty locks stuck to his face as he drew in deep wheezing breath. His chest ached. Shards of broken bones still dug at his lungs. In truth, he should have been dead. It was his seid that had kept him alive, struggling to mend his punctured lungs, draining him to within an inch of his life.
Half a dozen healers stood all around Thor's massive bed.
"You have to break the bones again" One of the healer instructed Thor, as Thor gingerly held Loki's useless arm.
"Loki…" Thor started, only to be viciously cut off by Loki.
"Do it! You broke it, now you will fix it" He hissed.
Thor frowned, shifting his gaze back at the stubborn Jotun.
Loki was sweating, his chest heaving erratically and Thor could see the shifting of every one of his bended ribs that had healed terribly too. He was a complete mess, despite Thor's attempts to clean him up.
The healers gave Loki a metallic bit to bite on, so that he would not bite off his own tongue, while Thor straightened Loki's useless arm as best as he could. It was jagged and bended in all the wrong direction.
Slowly, Thor wraps his gloved fingers over the first odd bend, and felt the abnormal growth of bone beneath Loki's skin. He let his eyes close for a moment and took in a deep breath.
Any Aesir in his position would have been more than happy to break Loki's bones. They'd certainly take great joy in slowly snapping the Jotun's bone and watch him writhe and scream in agony. Watch that smug arrogant face twist in torment.
But not Thor.
Thor had never been one for cruelty. He did not relish in the agony and suffering of his enemies. If he was to kill, he had always done so swiftly. A quick and clean death.
Loki took in short shallow breath as Thor's large hand wrapped about his now bony forearm.
"Look away" Thor said.
Still Loki stared on as the large gloved hand began to tighten. His heart drummed, his fingers clenched against Thor's sweaty sheet.
"Look away!"
"Do it!" Loki growled, biting hard against the bit.
Thor did. Thor broke Loki's bones. There was a loud sharp crack as if the snapping of a great branch.
Pain, the pain was fire; like a thousand blades stabbing, tearing through Loki's arm. He howled, biting down so hard on the metallic bit his jaws ached, his abdomen clenched, veins drawing down the side of his sweaty neck.
Without waiting, Thor went to break the next bend and the next mercilessly, feeling the hard bone crunch beneath his cruel grip.
"Uhhh!" Loki let out agonizing screams that filled the entire room. His were eyes shut tight in torment, his toes curled in pain, his heels dug the mattress and his nails rip the fabric beneath him.
"Almost there! You are almost there!" Thor gritted, snapping another bend. He had to forcefully pull Loki back once or twice when the Jotun twisted away from him.
Loki could feel every sharp break his bone, he could feel the fracture and crack of his bone seconds before they snap to the tremendous force it was twisted out of its position.
"Thor!" Loki cried in agony, his fingers flew to latch onto Thor's upper arm just as Thor broke the last of his bone.
Fire sheered down both Thor and Loki's arm.
"Are you done?!" Loki spat, digging his dark nails deeper, breaking skin and drawing blood.
Thor clenched his jaws in pain, but did not shake Loki away. He simply looked at the Jotun.
"Yes" He said.
Loki had lost his bit and his eyes were flashing dangerously. His breath came in shallow wheezing pants, his entire body shaking in agony and beads of sweat were rolling down his temple. His ebony tresses were in tangled clumps, stray strands, dangled over the Jotun's face.
"It is over" Thor's gaze was soft and warm, so contrasted Loki's hard and vicious ones.
Loki frowned at what he saw.
There was no joy in Thor's eyes; there was no sick satisfaction or cruel laughter in those pale cerulean eyes Loki had expected to find. It was as if this Aesir did not relish in his pain.
"It is done" Thor rasped lowered the shattered forearm as Loki withdrew his blistering fingers.
"..."
"Rest" Thor place a hand over Loki's shoulder, guiding him back to bed.
The healers handed Thor six iron rods; instructing him to arrange them about Loki's shattered forearm and tightly wrap them in bandage.
Loki watched silently as Thor did it all without difficulty. Those large hands were not as clumsy as Loki thought a spoilt King's would surely be. They knew exactly what they were doing, and they were careful not to give him unnecessary pain.
Strange, Loki thought.
What is Thor scheming? Isn't Loki the enemy? Shouldn't Thor be taking every opportunity to hurt him? To give him more pain?
If Loki had been in Thor's position, he would have made sure he suffered, delivering as much pain as possible. Perhaps even take the opportunity to snap a few more bones that did not need breaking.
Loki looked away, his expression blank.
He'd be damn if Thor knew his 'gentleness' unnerve him to no end.
He understood anger, he understood hatred, he understood cruelty and torture, but this tenderness Thor was showing him, he couldn't understand it. And he decided he hated it. He hated what he could not understand.
It is that dream again. The same one he had night after night after night.
Loki panted; his entire body shook in cold dripping fear. His eyes were wide as he turned round and round, taking in the sea of death that surrounded him. Rotting, deformed bodies were crawling towards him, seeking to drag him under.
"Don't touch me!" He screamed, his heart hammered, slamming hard against this rib cage.
There was no where to run, there was no where he could escape. They were all around him. They moaned, flailing hands jerk forth, one after the other.
And he saw her again, standing in a distance in her tattered nightdress. Her head was bowed, thick wild ebony locks dangled over her terrible face, hiding them from sight.
"You will not have me! Not yet!" Loki bellowed. "Do you hear me daughter?! You will not have me this night!"
She laughed a cold ringing laughter that seemed to fill the entirety of Loki's mind.
"I will have you father" She said, lifting her head. Her wild black hair fell away from her half rotted face. Her eyes were red and terrible.
And all at once Loki could feel her hateful eyes everywhere. All about him!
She smiled, all her teeth were razor sharp.
"You are mine!" She shrilled.
Hundreds and hundreds of bony hands shot up from the inky blackness beneath Loki's feet and grabbed him. Loki screamed, wrenching his feet away only to be caught by another pair of hand and another. He trip, falling down for a terrifying moment. Hands shot up to grab him. His chest, his arms, his legs, his hair, his neck, seeking to drag him under.
"Get off me!" He screamed and he screamed in horror, in cold terror, kicking and twisting wildly; jerking loose his arms only to be captured by another three more.
He could smell their decadent flesh all over, hear the creaking of their brittle bone, he bit off one rotting finger when they sought to shut him up. Reeking blood, poured into his lips.
He coughed.
His guts lurched and twisted, sickening him to vomiting.
"Hela!" The cry came out of him with all his worst anguish and terror. Tears were streaking down his face.
Suddenly, there was a flash of white blinding light. The dead moaned and groaned in fear and pain, loosening their grip.
At once, Loki fought to his feet and ran! He ran as fast as he could towards the light. His shaking feet stomped and cracked the bones beneath him.
"Loki!" Loki heard Hela shrieked in fury.
The white light seemed to spread, chasing away the darkness until they were far away from him. He ran and he ran, his chest ached to bursting and still he ran till he could scarcely breathe.
He stopped, panting hard, his eyes look about him. There was nothing but brilliant whiteness. He had never seen this place before.
Where is he?
"In your subconscious" A deep voice answered suddenly, shocking Loki. He turned full around at once.
There was an Aesir man clad fully in pristine white standing a little away from him. His hair and beard were white; his face wrinkled but there was a sort of firm authority in them. A golden eye patch cover one of his eyes, and the other was of the deepest blue Loki had ever seen. It was kind and warm, gentle and loving, as it looked upon Loki without a shard of hatred or anger or judgment.
"Odin Borson" Loki hissed, his eyes narrowed with hatred.
"Yes Loki" Odin walked towards the Jotun.
"How are you here?" Loki snapped.
"Blood magic is a terrible thing little prince. And sometimes, it creates a link between the caster and the victim" Odin motioned to himself. "But of course, you know that already. As to how I can be here, the barrier of your mind is weak tonight"
"What do you want?"
"No need to get so defensive" Odin smiles kindly.
"..."
"I trust you know that one of us is going to die?"
"Yes" Loki said proudly. "And what will you do about it?"
"Nothing I can do without killing you or breaking your mind" Odin lowered himself to sit on the brilliant white floor. "And I will do neither at the moment"
"..."
"Sit" He commanded, looking up at the Jotun.
"What happened to that witch?" Loki asked, ignoring Odin's command.
Odin smiled. "You do not have to sleep in fear every night Loki...I can give you peace. You want peace don't you?"
There was a heartbeat where neither spoke. Loki stared at Odin in contempt.
Yes, he wanted peace. He wanted to close his eyes and find relief.
Oh how long has it been since he last slept without fear, since he last slept without screaming in blood curdling terror. It's been so long. He could not remember what peace felt like anymore. It had been so long that he had given up finding it.
But now…Odin is giving him a choice to have it once again.
He did not trust the shrewd old man.
"You. You will give me peace? Your enemy" Loki hissed.
"Yes. And since we are here because of seid, we will play by its first rule, should you choose it" Odin said. "Do you know the rule little prince?"
"Equal exchange...To create you must destroy. To gain you must give something in return" Loki muttered.
Odin nodded. "Yes. A beautiful and a terrible thing isn't it? And the darker the sorcery the more terrible the price...sometimes more terrible than we could have imagined"
"..."
"But I am not unreasonable. I will give you this peace little prince, and in return, you will allow me here every night"
"Why?" Loki demanded.
Such a small price for peace, he did not believe it was out of Odin's good bleeding heart. Odin did not become the greatest conqueror in all the realms by being kind.
"An old man likes company" Odin said.