Summary: The war between Jotunheim and Asgard draws to a close, but thanks to a horrible twist of Fate (or perhaps not), the nameless runt of Laufey-King is not discovered by Odin and so begins a remarkable journey of life that should not have been. Jotun!Loki AU. Set pre-/during-/after Thor/Avengers Assemble. MCU-verse only.

Warnings: ANGST! Loki-whump! Language, adult situations, violence, child abuse, dub-con, sexual assault (also of a minor), substance abuse, one abortion scene (sort of), slavery, sex trade (maybe), some mild original character/Loki M/M pairings.

Comments: This is not a slash fic. Sorry. It's Loki-centric, although I definitely show the rest of the Avengers and etc. Please review! Constructive criticism welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers. Marvel owns it. I do not get paid for this piece of work. Sadly, but understandably. LOL.

Health update: Got pills. Am taking them. It will be a good 2 weeks before I see changes. And I'm also changing my diet to something a bit more healthy because there's a high chance that I have/will have diabetes. Kyeh. Well, I'm feeling more positive already. :D

LAST CHAPTER GOT THE MOST REVIEWS EVAH! Thank you to everyone who reviewed! You guys are awesome!

To Immortal Sailor Cosmos (too true!), princessofd (yayness!), dairygirl (hope things will make more sense for you soon), TheObsessor11294 (revelation... STARTS NOW!), Double-Gemini (good prediction!), wbss21 (thanks so much for your awesomeness again!) and Raven's Dusk (yay for Heimsrsal fan!).

Well, this looks to be an interesting chapter. A little longer than the last one. Yep. With the introduction of...

You have to read on!

Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]

Chapter 12
Hope Found?

Utgard, they say, is a symbol of Jotunn endurance, clinging as it does to the crumbling earth on the edge of forever. Tall and dark, it looms, a desolate picture of a greater time when Jotunheim had been full of life and martial vigour. Outside its gates, they also say, the cursed burns of the Biforst on bared rock mark the fall of the great Frost Kingdom – the last spot on Jotunheim where the Casket had been seen.

Outside its gates, the mark of a curse is burned – and inside its heart, a living abomination clinging to life against all odds and reason.

These were the tales of Utgard and the rumours that circulated through the rest of Jotunheim about the ancient citadel – and Helblindi, gazing up at the hidden heights of the Grarfjall Mountains, had an overwhelming desire to return there. It was, after all, the city he had roamed as a child in the more clement seasons. Before the War had come to a head and brought the metropolis low.

Utgard, a vast jungle of towers and passageways and secret vaults and forbidden caverns and chasms which could gape suddenly at your feet. Perfect for hunting games and hide-and-search. Not for the faint of heart.

But then, Helblindi had never been faint of heart – and newly ushered into the ranks of adulthood, the eldest prince had an urge to show his worth, be the shining example needed for young Byleistr, make Farbauti proud and prove right Laufey's decision to name him future King.

-0-0-0-

"He is not a True Heir," Farbauti had protested one night after Laufey had spoke of the matter with young Helblindi. His heart broke over the passing of yet another Great Tradition.
"If I did not know better, I'd think you had an unhealthy fascination about seeing me fat," Laufey chuckled, drawing his consort closer in the wide bed of snow they shared each night.

Farbauti did not reply. Merely bent his head – and the gentle words felt suddenly awkward, the small joke falling like a stone pebble into a still pond. Ripples spreading outward...

"We will keep trying," sighed Laufey. "I have not lost all hope."
"Perhaps if you tried with another –"
"Nonsense," the King cut his mate off abruptly. Then, to soften his dismissal, he drew Farbauti closer, nuzzling his nose against his consort's cheek, their cool breaths shared as one. "There will only be you. I am content."
"Sentiment," Farbauti sighed, but his lips quirked up at that. "This is a time of peace – but peace will not last forever – the Healers may have made an error... and perhaps the fault lies with me. I would not be jealous if you took another Consort. For I know I have your heart."
"Always," agreed Laufey. Then he asked. "Do you have so little faith in your own children, love?"
"Now that is cruel," cried Farbauti. "You know I believe Helblindi is more than capable for the task and Byleistr loves the prospect of advising the Throne." He sighed then. "But the Court –"
"The Court can go to Helheim," Laufey snorted. "The busybodies must remember again that I am King – and if I break with Tradition, it shall be so."
"Jotunheim's most tempestuous King. That is how you will be remembered, Laufey-love."
"I did lead us into war – and out of it," Laufey nodded ruefully. "We paid a heavy price for my folly. Our Traditions were destroyed that day, Farbauti, when the Casket was stolen. It rendered... everything... meaningless, I fear."
"Do not speak of the Mages," Farbauti groaned, "else I too follow you into a dark path of depression for the evening – and what shall we do then?"

They both laughed for a short time at that. Now, the King and His Consort could find some humour in their predicament. A kind of battle humour still present long after the war had been lost – a desire to find the tungleblom among the blakkrgras. To find equilibrium after the storm, to find healing after the severe crippling of their race.

Perseverance and resolution to never give up.

Utgard on the edge of the Eybjarg.

And so Laufey announced that thanks to his war wounds (Farbauti thought it was more due to the loss of the Casket), he was unable to bear a Sithr Efingi, and thus, Helblindi of His Blood and Farbauti's Womb, would continue the Line of Kings. The Court would have to be content.

And so it was.

[... Jotunheim, how low you fell...]

[... trading in base coin...]

When the Healer of Utgard's Gothahus was ushered into Helblindi's presence a few months later, the Crown Prince took it as a sign from the For-Eldra. Time to prove his worth and rid Utgard of its supposed curse forever.

-0-0-0-

Laufey-King was currently far beyond the Kaldrfjall Mountains, wintering in the Eastern Capitol of Thrymnheim. It would be impossible for him to return in time to settle this urgent matter, Helblindi told himself, and apparently, the mass of country folk in Utgard have succumbed to superstitions which only leaves the King – and his Representative – as capable of dealing with the matter at hand.

"A runt," he finally repeated with disbelief. "A runt has caused unrest in Utgard? Who was so foolish as to let it survive?" Helblindi frowned in distaste at the topic.
"The old Caretaker of the Gothahus was –"
"It matters not," Helblindi rose and descended the short steps of the small dais he had been sitting on. "That a mere Jotun dvegr has brought an entire community to its knees in fear is a travesty which only the King can rectify. Sadly, my Royal Father is not able to come so swiftly – so I will go in his stead and deal with the matter myself."
"Your Highness – so gracious –" Healer Ketill's relief was palpable.
"And I will bring two mages this time to cleanse the city in a proper way," Helblindi went on, as he considered the situation. With such superstitious folk, the Traditional Rites may ease their worries even if it is just for show. Helblindi nodded and then his mind was already moving on, as he began to take stock of what to do to prepare for the trip. "It will be a worthy gift for my Lord Father – the renewal of Utgard." He nodded. "Utgard."

And so, that is how the West Road came to carry the Royal Procession with great difficulty through the dangerous, wolf-ridden Grarfjall Mountains and out beyond to the vast city, the empty city, of Utgard.

-0-0-0-

Although he wished to deal with the matter of the vaetki swiftly, Helblindi had a feeling that settling in to understand the situation at hand would not be so simple. More easily said than done, for certain. There was the matter of unpacking the boxes which had to first be unloaded carefully from the great carts, clearing away the rubble from the Great Doors to the King's Hall (which had fallen recently from the opposing watch tower, Healer Ketill had said), touring the cleared Northern and Western quarters of the city and praising the master labourers who had mended the North and West walls and gates.

Not the South or East ones, however. Everyone knows that to the east and south, there is nothing but dark.

After the initial introductions between the Crown Prince and the motley group of Jotunn which were called the Council of Utgard, Helblindi was taken out for a short grarulfr hunt which was pleasingly familiar to him and was a great opportunity for the ambitious prince to show off his abilities to the rough yokels of Utgard. And future subjects. They were those as well. Running across the barren foothills now shrouded in fog and blanketed in another gentle layer of snow, which was still softly falling again, the hunters returned carefully, keeping a wary eye out for any sign of the cursed thurblakulfr. Yet, they were also in high spirits thanks to the success of the hunt – and the prospect of a great feast. For the first time in many decades, they would feast and raise a toast to Laufey-King and the Royal Family.

That night the Royal Hall was filled with cheer and food and blakkbjorr, as Helblindi focused on raising the spirit of the Jotunn who had too long been forgotten. Tomorrow morning, he promised himself, I will deal with the thing. With the vaetki now safely stowed away under the watchful eye of Healer Lind and the two mages he had brought with him.

-0-0-0-

Mornings in wintery Utgard seemed much like the night to Helblindi – gloomy and dismal. Utterly cheerless. And the city itself did not make things any less grim. Unlike the garland-decorated homes of Gastropnir or the intricately carved jarnvithr ornaments found everywhere in Griotunagardar, Utgard spoke of barren souls and minds too bent on survival to spend much time or energy on the finer things and lighter side of life. This spirit showed in the grim faces of the farmers and hunters, the muted cries of suckling babes and the stony looks of the city's guildsmen and craftworkers. The wind too spoke in a harsh voice, blowing briskly down from the icy peaks of the Grarfjall range and brought nothing but the smell of oncoming snow and the howls of wild beasts.

And from the east... nothing.

Older and wiser now, Helblindi felt the presence of the Eybjarg even more sharply than before. The threat of the Void loomed.

[... It swallows everything...]

[... so hungry. It is so hungry...]

"Bring it forward," Helblindi said calmly, eyes trained on the slight figure, thin ankles heavily shackled with jarnvithr, stumbling into the room with the firm grip of the current Caretaker of the Gothahus on its head. The Caretaker grinned. A sturdy fellow fond of hunting and blakkbjorr, Helblindi recalled.
"Take care, Prince Helblindi," the Caretaker grunted as the small thing's fingers pried at his larger fingers which gripped the small skull and long, matted black hair. "It is a wild thing."

A youngling, Helblindi snorted. A mere runt youngling has cowed an entire Jotun city... This is so pathetic as to be laughable... But the Prince set his face and presented a bland enquiring air.

"I can see that," Helblindi replied dryly. "But I –"
"Aiya!" Thyrstr cried in surprise as a small hand stabbed into the more tender flesh of his underarms – with a small ice dagger. With surprise (he would say later) and less in fright, he shook the thing off, flinging it casually forward, nearly bashing its head on the paving stones. "The cursed thing stabbed me! Damn vaetki to Helheim!"
"Hm," Helblindi eyed the small creature with curiosity. "The dvegr has some affinity with our ice."
"An abomination! An abomination!" the more theatrical Mage Ikelo stiffened.

Helblindi eyed his new Court – the two mages, three healers and the City Council. Then, his red gaze lowered to the small creature which was now drawing itself slowly up – prising itself up from the icy ledge of the dais's lower step. Knobbly knees drew together and thin arms strained to raise the scrawny body up (Helblindi could count its ribs) – until it stood shakily on its own two feet.

"Leave us," he said, waving his hands.

No one moved.

"I wish to speak with it. Alone."
"It is mute, my Lord," Healer Ketill said.
"And witless, no doubt," added the more practical Mage Orfr.
"Nevertheless," Helblindi said. "I wish to be alone with it."

The two Healers and the steadily cursing Caretakers left first, mumbling to each other about Mage Opna and the strange tastes of the Inner Court. Helblindi decided he did not want to know. The City Council left on their heels – but it took some more stern commands to budge the two Mages.

"We are not superstitious fools," Helblindi said, keeping his voice steady with mild reasonableness. "An accusation of murder was laid at its door and the Dead, being so entwined with it, may not receive the respect due them – unless we can prove the vaetki is indeed as witless and weak as you believe – and therefore not connected with their deaths. With a Royal Proclamation of the vaetki's innocence, the Dead are released from contamination – but only if I know for certain. I will discover the solution to this mystery – much easier done without a vicious audience around, think you not?"

Sound reasoning – and in the face of that and his indisputable authority, Helblindi got his way. Sound reasoning – but not the only reason. He looked down upon the pathetic creature and grunted. A vaetki of some years... this is unbelievable...

And so he found himself alone –

Carefully eyeing the object of his curiosity.

DUN DUN DUN! What will Helblindi do? Will he find out? What would he do if he found out? How is this going to get angstier before it gets better?
(because it will)
(you know it will)
(it's me!)

In other news, I'm going to try to write Chapter 23-25 this week. Please wish me luck as I try to get over a massive writer's block! (winces)

Update on Friday/Saturday. :D

Glossary:

Sithr Efingi – True Heir
For-Eldra – Ancestors
Gothahus – temple
dvegr – dwarf
grarulfr – grey wolves
thurblakulfr – giant black wolves
jarnvithr – iron wood
blakkrbjorr – black beer
Storrholl – Great Hall
manisilfr – moonsilver
Heimsrsal – Soul of the Realm
Kero Fornvetr – Casket of Ancient Winters

[at this point in time = 8-9 year old, human equivalent. Jotunn age, hair should start to fall out]