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.
So... thanks to all who have reviewed! To all who are faving this monster! Thanks so much! Thanks to: perfidiouspink, DragonsFlame117, Immortal Sailor Cosmos, Double-Gemini, wbss21!
Also - take heed of my warnings. They are for real... XD
Warning! Warning! Slavery! Warning! Warning! Gladiator stuffs and violence! Warning! Warning!
Now... onward to the moment we are all waiting for!
Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]
Chapter 24
Sun's Dawn
[… the music of the spheres ring out…]
[… eternal harmony…]
[… the spirits of the realms sing…]
[… can you hear them calling?]
Everyday began the same way – the raucous, metallic drone of the slave quarters' alarms. Where there had been muffled whispers and rustling, there was now loud shouting and taunting and joking and other such morning sounds. Black shutters were slid back to reveal the grey skyscrapers and domed towers which reached above them to an equally grey-black sky. Synth-lights and flashing bulbs flared, lighting the rooms and shower stalls with blue and red and purple and other colours through slits someone might have called windows.
Kol'la rose silently, as was his wont, and managed to elbow his way to a shower. Pressed up against two Skrulls and a heavy-set, slick R'Svthinn, he scrubbed his body swiftly, pushing away prying hands and ignoring the barbed jokes aimed his way. Everyone treated him as his skin demanded – a kind of Midgardian, they supposed him. His pale skin, after all, did not exude the healthy glow of Asgard naturally. And after the collar's magic level was adjusted, his hair remained in its natural state – black.
Knowing how the others would treat him if he admitted his background, Kol'la had long ago decided to hide his Jotunn heritage, presenting it only as a trick for those fools who thought savages to be wild exotic things. It is not like they would believe me at any rate, he thought sourly, eyeing his height in the cracked mirror available across from the showers. I still show no sign of being a giant. No horns. No gargantuan height. He sighed. Regardless... they would just take that as permission to treat me like a savage.
Things are bad enough as they are.
The shower was a quick one, easily accomplished now that his hair was cut shorter than he had ever experienced before in his long life. It laid neatly combed back to the nape of his neck. Slipping on his usual black breeches, green tunic, black leather vest and worn boots, Kol'la made his way to the Allotment Room, also named the 'Employee Lounge'. Not that slaves were allowed to utilize the room. Once he was told his duties for the day – serving, washing dishes, running errands, dancing or fighting (really just training) – Kol'la made his way swiftly to his station.
Dawdling was forbidden. Talking sedition was forbidden. Using magic without strict control was forbidden. Romancing others in a serious fashion (if Kol'la had had an interest) was forbidden. Using weaponry outside the ring or training rooms was forbidden.
Forbidden. Forbidden. Forbidden.
More than ever, the bonds of his existence bore deeply into the Jotun's soul. Kol'la itched for chaos, for wide spaces, for wildernesses and for the stars.
[… Heimsrsal's split soul keened…]
[… Asgard's spirit stirred uneasily…]
[… wanderlust awoke…]
Asgard. The Realm Eternal. Golden and unchanging, it stands head and shoulders, literally, above the other realms, the other worlds and civilizations housed in the broad embrace of Yggdrasil. Yggdrasil, the World Tree, the broad expanse of stars which hang together within the Void... birthed from what? Only the Ancients and the Titans could say.
Yes. It stands head and shoulders above the rest – literally, they say, for this Realm hangs above the others – broad and vast. Its solid foundations were birthed out of fire, ice and magic, they say, and this magical Realm is the bridge between what is and what is not. In this, Asgard stands not alone, for the other Eight Realms hold their office as well – their spirits still strong and vital, if not as powerful as Asgard's Heart. With the destruction of prideful Jotunheim, Asgard now reigns alone above the rest – a bridge between the physical and the raw materials of unseen power – the ultimate technology, the strongest monopoly on magic.
If the tales of drunk space sailors and heartless bandits are to be believed, Asgard is a treasure trove, a bright place, second only to the fabled Valhalla itself. Filled with fertile lands, golden fields of produce, orchards blessed with Ithunn's power herself, Asgard is a fair land. Its inhabitants, known as the Aesir, are tall, brawny, powerful immortals who answer to no creature save Odin Allfather. Often given to adventure, Asgardians are a capricious lot, the stories tell, fond of brawling, subjugating, feasting and leaving destruction in their wake.
Remembering Elska's and Opna's tales of the Long War, Kol'la was not so impressed by the Boss-man's new catch.
They will bring nothing but trouble, he thought as the Fourth Madame adjusted the magic on his collar to allow him enough ability for defence should the young Aesir captives take umbridge to Kol'la's services. Most of all to myself... he eyed his pale skin and thought of the tell-tale markings hidden within. If they discovered... Kol'la grimaced and then frowned determination. They will never find out. He grinned then bitterly. A splendid trick indeed.
Upon arrival, the Slavers had recommended the high security detainment all for the three Asgardian youths. Kol'la, watching the forcibly subdued – chained and sedated – warriors be wheeled off, strapped down to broad metal frames, approved of the Boss-man's decision to follow the Slavers' advice. However, Kol'la, known for his ability to speak various languages fluently and his ability to mediate, was not so pleased to discover that he was the Boss-man's primary candidate for working as Liaison and Handler.
As it was, a full day and a half passed before the largest of the captives stirred. The blonde, husky Asgardian, judging by his short scruff and still round face, looked rather young, which no doubt explained why he had been captured. His two fellow warriors – a shorter, slighter, fair-looking young man and a black-haired, taciturn looking fellow – still lay unconscious further down the room. Kol'la, who had been adjusting the nutrition bags ordered by the Boss-man (which trickled through feeding tubes inserted down their throats), turned at the sound of arms suddenly jerking and legs twisting and the unpleasant sound of gagging.
"Hey now," he glared at the blue eyes which were wildly roaming about the room sightlessly – obviously bewildered and disoriented. "Just a minute... Breathe deep and then we can talk." Deftly but carefully, as he had been taught, Kol'la pulled the tube out and let the new slave breath in deeply.
"Where am I? Where is this? Who are you? Speak quickly!"
The slave's deep voice (now a little hoarse) barked out as large fists clenched and well-defined muscles jumped. Metal clinked against metal as the wrist and ankle restraints rattled from the Asgardian's attempts to escape. Kol'la, face smirking with the cynicism of long experience, stood back and watched.
He is one of those, he thought feeling more annoyed than usual. Of course. The type who speak before they think. And never listen.
"You are on Sharda'aa, the Planet of Pleasures in the prestigious Battle-House of Shax," Kol'la finally drawled when the slave fell back winded. "My name is Kol'la Silvertongue. I will be your... Liaison and Handler during your... stay... here. Pleased to be of service." He bowed then and his dark head rose, face marred with a cynical, twisted smile.
"You would dare lay a hand on a warrior of Asgard, you swine!" blustered the young warrior. "Do you not know who I am?"
Kol'la snorted. Of course. The usual grandiose blustering of all those who stand from on high. Things look rather different down here, do they not, warrior of Asgard? For a few seconds, anger surged in Kol'la, his green eyes flashing and his face twisted in a silent snarl. Then, realizing that the new slave had lain back and was watching him, his broad face now showing confusion and interest, Kol'la's expression became shuttered.
"I have no idea who you are, numbskull, as we have just met," he finally said. "No doubt you will deliver some meaningless deception –"
"I am Prince Thor of Asgard, Kol'la of the Silvertongue – and I do not LIE!"
"Prince... pardon?" Kol'la laughed. "Now that is some tale –"
"I am Prince Thor – son of Odin –"
"Yes, yes, I know of whom you speak. The only son of Odin Allfather. His pride and joy – a feted warrior of some note, they say," Kol'la smirked. "Spoiled and brainless, it is told, and ever courts destruction and endangerment with the reckless abandon of the foolhardy. But I see no hammer about you." Here, the Jotunn tipped his head eyeing his people's enemy with amusement. "Perhaps you mislaid it?"
"Mjolnir – Mjolnir –" The blonde, would-be prince looked about as if to expect something to be there, when it was not. "It is not near? Where – where – where am I?"
"Sharda'aa," Kol'la repeated, annoyance rising. He folded his arms and glared down at the renewed struggles of the captive. "I said that before. You do seem to be as witless as the Prince is said to be."
"You will pay for this –"
"Now you blame me?"
"Well... No..." A pause. The warrior eyed the slight, tall figure of the young man before him – noting the collar around the long pale neck and the tired age behind the green eyes. "You are a slave too, aren't you?"
Kol'la's slender hands unfolded from his arms and he clapped long and slow, an empty smile crossing his face.
"You have finally established a solid fact in your thick skull, I see," Kol'la smirked. "How did you guess? Was it the collar around my neck? My poor clothing? Or the fact that a well-spoken person such as myself can be found in an establishment such as this?"
The warrior relaxed back on the flat pillow behind his head, his blue eye still trained on the green ones before him, taking note of the roughly cut, dark hair and the cheap clothing on the slave's back.
"It was in your eyes," the Asgardian said quietly. A pause, during which Kol'la blinked, face still carefully blank. The warrior shrugged. "You all look the same. In the eyes."
"We all look the same," Kol'la said, in a flash bending over the new slave, his long hand jerking on the metal collar now securely bound about the warrior's broad neck. White teeth bared in a wordless snarl before he continued. "It is we now. Prince. Thor. Although I still find that hard to believe –"
"When my father comes to get me," the warrior interrupted Kol'la's vitriolic speech, "and he will come, he will destroy this world and everyone on it should they deny him. Help me – and I will personally guarantee your safety - and freedom."
"Help you? Help – help –" Kol'la nearly keeled over laughing, his face wracked with mirth and disbelief and anger all in one. A chaotic jumble of emotion. "And how would I be able to help the oh so awesome and powerful Prince Thor of Asgard?" He asked sarcastically.
"You could aid me in learning the weaknesses of these people and prepare for the coming of the rest," replied the supposed-prince simply. "You would become a fellow ally and in the moment when Asgard arrives, you would aid me to overcome my bonds and I would repay you in kind."
"That is my job, moron."
"Pardon?"
"My job is to help you... adjust to your life and... employment... in this lovely garden of vice," Kol'la's voice dripped with sarcasm. "To aid you to escape, that seems a fine trick and within my... interests, given you say you will do the same for me." Green eyes narrowed sharply, pinning the blue ones, as the long-time slave drew back a little. "And how do I know you will keep your promise, supposed-Odinsson?"
"You have my word," Thor replied. "The word of an Odinsson is always true."
Kol'la searched for any lie in the young warrior's eyes – and found none. It was as the rumours told – Prince Thor was a beast, a handsome warrior, an idiot and the powerful son of the most powerful immortal in the universe, excepting the Titans themselves. Prince Thor was beloved and golden, and as the stories went, honest and true to those who came underneath the protection of his shield. The Jotunn smirked. The son of Odin in my debt. What better chance than this? And if he lies... the lie will show itself soon enough and I can play it both ways to save my skin. Unlike this fool.
He nodded and Thor's face broke into a broad smile – powerful and beaming like a warm sun.
"Then you have my aid." Kol'la's return smile was broad and wolfish and cold. "And if you have any sense within you, dou'ma, lose the name."
-0-0-0-
Not long after, the other two Asgardians awoke – just as disoriented and displeased as the Prince had been. It seemed like the rumours of All-Speech were true after all – all of the Asgardians were able to communicate with him easily. Kol'la couldn't consider the mysterious matter any longer, however, since the two shorter warriors were rather upset. There was the usual initial struggle followed by belaboured explanations from Kol'la, made even more difficult thanks to Thor's constant interruptions. Then, disgruntled acceptance – once reality settled in.
The slighter, fair-headed one, more cheerful and prone to run off at the mouth, was apparently named Fandral, whilst the dour, more clear-headed and intelligent one was so named Hogun. More intelligent? That is not saying much, Kol'la's lip curled up at that. On the other hand, he is not your ordinary Asgardian specimen… More than likely one of the descendents of some race brought captive to Asgard long, long ago…
Once he explained their situation to the three warriors ("you will be fighting the brawniest and most dangerous champions of this corner of the galaxy"), the rules ("there are a list of things forbidden here, as you may have guessed - and they are the following...") and punishments ("that collar can fell a Jotunn"), Kol'la left the three to contemplate their existence.
Before he exited the windowless room, Kol'la turned at the door and eyed Hogun who was silently once again testing his bonds. The three will do so all night, he supposed. Go ahead, the dark-haired slave grinned again sharply then, waste those hours of rest… and realize your new position. As we have all had to do.
"I will discuss what your first duties will be tomorrow morning," Kol'la finally said, breaking the silence as the three pairs of eyes watched him stand in the door, in the supposed gateway to freedom – the only opening to their cell. "And your names."
"You know our names," Thor said bewildered.
"Your new names," repeated Kol'la coldly. "It is supposed to strip you of your identity and prepare you for the new life of a slave… but in this case, accept it gracefully – at least for your own protection. Otherwise we will have more than the usual witless scum volunteering their bodies to pit against you –"
"Let them come," Thor laughed then. "I will tear them apart and crush them like the fragile –"
"Without Mjolnir? I think it would not be so easy," Kol'la sighed, wishing his charges did not lack so much commonsense. "At any rate, there is no ifs, ands or buts. You will be gifted new names. Of a sort. You will forget your old ones."
"Have you forgotten yours?" Hogun asked quietly.
Kol'la did not reply. He left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Have you forgotten yours?
Something familiar welled up within him. He had felt it before. Once again, he was standing before his brother – nononono, Kol'la gritted his teeth, attempting to force the memory back down into that box of horrors in the back of his mind – no. It did not work - he was back in the great hall. He was standing before his brother and he knew his shame – measured and found wanting. Always found wanting.
How could I have forgotten – he thought bitterly, flinging open the door to his shared dormitory room and stalking to his bed, jerking off his clothing, seeing nothing but what he could not be, could not have.
How could I have forgotten what I never had?
So a couple of things...
1. Let me know what you think! Please review! It helps me know what to tweak and fix up! I do love concrit! And of course ranting about Loki is always fun to read!
2. This conversation was really hard for me to write. Let me know what you thought about it! Did I miss the mark totally? Was it OK?
3. Some of you might think... a) how as Thor caught and b) Thor was CAUGHT? A moment then to explain. First, more on how he was caught will be revealed. In a way. It's kinda peripheral to the real reason for the story, but it will be discussed later on (literally). Secondly, Thor is not some sort of freakish invulnerable person. He is powerful - but at this point in time, he's only 17 or 18. He's young. He's stupid. He's got no Loki and strategies at his back. Also, even with Mjolnir and everything, Thor isn't the most powerful being in the universe. There's always a bigger fish. So yes, in a way, the Slavers are definitely deus ex machina but in a way it should be totally believable to have species equally or more powerful than an Asgardian teen. I hope this make sense/is OK with you guys!
Let me know either way!
Thanks so much for reading! I love you all!
Numbers (for this quadrant):
0 - nai
1 - sa
2 - tho
3 - frei
4 - ah
5 - ko
6 - yul
7 - vee
8 - mah
9 - lei
Alien Glossary:
Dou'ma – idiot
r'senk'ne – a kind of deer/cow hybrid
n'ch'nka – a kind of cow
chi'iano – a radioactive piece of rock similar to uranium
kol-sava'atha – a titanium-rich ore
oma'auzha – mother-effer
Jotunheim Glossary:
Aldinn Stathr – Ancient Place
Atfirth – energies
blakkrbjorr – black beer
Blakkrbjorn – black bear
blakkrgras – black grass
blargras – blue grass
Dagaheim
dvegr – dwarf
dyrspeki – zoologist
Eybjarg (Chasms of Forever)
fauld – a part of armour around the lower midsection
Flara River – Treacherous River
For-Eldra – Ancestors
Forn Vegr – Old Ways
Gastropnir
Gnottvatn (Lake of Abundance)
Gothahus – temple
Grarfjall – Grey Mountains
grarulfr – grey wolves
Griotunagardar
hafnathr – sea serpents
heillgrjot – healing stones
Heimsrsal – Soul of the Realm
heithrsker – crystal flowers
Holdra River – Hero's River
holkimurtr – small flat fish
Holkn Vollr – Flat Plains
holmganga – a method of ending feuds/disagreements
hota-eik – white oak
hvaeta – wheat
Innaheim – Inner Realm
jarnkottr – iron cat (beast which Laufey released in Thor)
jarnvithr – iron wood
Kaldrfjall (Cold Mountains)
Kero Fornvetr – Casket of Ancient Winters
kostrboth – a method of proving virility for the purpose of marriage
lagreinn – small one (epithet)
Lengi Ofrithr – Long War
luthrblom – trumpet flower
manisilfr – moonsilver
melrakki – white fox
Myrkr Skogr – shadow forest
Nattura – spirits
Northri Stjarna – North Star
silvralmr – silver elm
silvrfiskr – silver fish
Sithr Efingi – True Heir
Skalldi
skordyr – Jotunheim goat
snaerharra – snow rabbit
Storrholl – Great Hall
thurblakulfr – giant black wolves
tunglbom (moonflower)
ulfrbarn - wolf child
Utanheim – Outer Realm
Utgard
vaetki – nothing
ventrmellin – winter melon
villrkyr – wild ox
Virtha Aevi – Coming of Age
Vollrvatn – Lake of the Plains