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.
WHY AM I UPDATING THIS PEOPLE? I'M SO FALLING BEHIND IN MY WRITING AND I'VE ONLY GOT ONE MORE CHAPTER WRITTEN FOR THIS AND I'M TRYING NOT TO FREAK OUT - BUT I HAD TO UPDATE BECAUSE I'M FULL OF THOR THE DARK WORLD LOKI FEELS AFTER WATCHING IT. YEAHHH...
Yeah. I'm a mess - but thanks to those awesome folks who are chatting with me and just being such great encouragement! Thanks to: Supermoi, acidburned, Chiharu-angel, InsolentKatt, ClaMiAl and . I appreciate your thoughts and cheery words! So much!
Well, now we have some more Jotunheim stuff... Heh.
And remember to check out my profile for links to maps and things - as well as fanart provided by lovely people~! If you want a taste of Tom & Loki friendship fic-ness, go to my tumblr "kakashidiot" and click on the page link right below the header. XD
Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]
Chapter 49
Return to the Shadows II
[...the silences of the depths...]
[...below, they are gaping...]
[...a picture of what is waiting...]
[...It is waiting...]
How long he spent there, Loki afterwards would admit, he did not know. Feeding off of small transparent sea creatures and bitter tasting underwater herbs, thriving still off of the strength of Frigga's orchard apples, Loki pressed onward, swimming up and down the large Lake, carefully resonating his magick in and out, an unseen sonar seeking out its kind.
This underwater world was a realm which Time had forgotten – and Loki was wondering how long it had been since he had first submerged when a high pitched chime reflected back towards him within the weak flow of Jotunheim's magickal life stream. Another chime – and then another – Loki dived further down and to his left, following the sound, weaving through a small forest of seaweed and dodging past a school of silvrfiskr.
He sent out another burst of magick and this time, the response was a keening call, sharp and clear, travelling through the water, Loki surmised, at a very fast rate. Perhaps the giant serpent was moving. Darting over a sudden outcropping, Loki nearly bowled himself into a bristling crystalline reef with surprise. Before him spread a valley falling sharply, deeply and widely and the water below, Loki could see was almost black before his sharp eel's eyes. Yet, there was a glimmer of light below – a glow of blue-green, soft and indistinct.
It shifted and swayed and then the glimmer rippled brighter for a moment before fading again and Loki felt as well as heard the responding chime of magick followed by another echo of a keening cry. The shadows below shifted, some parts becoming murkier and around him a visible increase in warmth and light. Not light, he thought, a glow – of magic... Magic resonating purely from such an ancient creature. Such a creature as Iormungand, who relies on no Realm for sustenance.
The glimmer, the soft glow, resolved itself into sharper definition – a line of blue-green emanating from the rough sides of an ancient Sea-Serpent. Iormungand. Glittering black eyes blinked open, revealing a slight blurriness as the usual viscous layer protecting the wide, faintly blue-green rimmed pupils. For a moment, the eel hung lower before unfurling its long length, revealing even longer coils of black hide – but unlike Loki's own thin eel skin, Iormungand's age and durability showed in his plated scales, hard, Loki guessed, like armour or stone. As Loki sent another signal, the mouth of the eel gaped open a little, emitting another cry – this time lower and gentler.
Loki hesitated, his tail moving slower as he allowed himself to drift above Iormungand's head. He does not appear to be angry, the Jotunn thought. Perhaps he will be willing to hear our request. With no little amount of apprehension, Loki eased himself over another rough outcropping, held a lungful of oxygen, switched into his original form, forced a bubble of oxygen to form about him and then settled a little more firmly on a conveniently close piece of crystalline reef. Holding out his hands, palm upward, and allowing them to breach his bubble, Loki offered his hand, palm held out - flat and nonthreatening, the universal sign of peace.
For a moment, Iormungand hung back and then Loki felt a press of magick roll over him. He smiled and said softly, "Well met, great Grand-Sire Iormungand, who commands the waters of the deep and drinks from the Well of Jotunheim."
Iormungand, at his words, nosed upward and then, his giant head, dwarfing Loki's suddenly rather miniscule hands, drew close. The sea serpent's immense jaw opened again, this time revealing even rows of teeth, which Loki did his best not to flinch at, and a long thin tongue darted out to run along the Jotunn's blue fingers. What Iormungand tasted, Loki did not know, but apparently the Grand-Sire was appeased and eased back a moment, the water filled with a low growling, humming sound not entirely reassuring.
Another wave of magick then followed and Loki, opening up to the gentle pressure applied to his mind, let the words of the ancient creature soak into his own thoughts.
"Well met, Blue-Skinned One... or should I say... Frost Giant... such names as Time brings, I cannot remember them all. My apologies."
"No offence is taken," Loki replied carefully. "Few would look at me and think Frost Giant to begin with... considering my size."
"Ahhh... but that is another thing lost to Time," Iormungand's return voice deepened with something that felt like regret to the warrior-mage. "The truth is so often forgotten and thus, history with all its errors must be doomed to repeat itself."
"The truth? What truth is that?"
"It is a long tale... and perhaps," Iormungand said slowly, ruminatively, "perhaps it is not mine to tell. There are others – those who dwelt in Meerauk remembered, if Meerauk still stands. I know not. Therein lived the Sages and those who forget not Time and the secrets it holds."
"Meerauk..." Loki ransacked his early memories, trying to remember any mention of the place. The only thing he could recall was Elska – memories no longer painful, yet still weighty with loss – Elska before a bright blaze recalling an ancient time of peace and growth. When, he had said, Meerauk was set alight with a thousand crystals and Jotunheim was a land of light. "Meerauk."
"A place of legend now, perhaps," Iormungand sighed. He leaned forward then, twitching his head to the side to get better glimpse of his visitor. "And you, little Frost Giant, are on that same Road of Destiny yourself."
Gazing upward at the sagacious creature, Loki felt an overwhelming urge to blurt out his anxieties, his fears and his plans, but, biting his tongue, the Jotunn warrior-mage nodded uncertainly and glared down at his hands.
"Some years ago – long years ago," he finally admitted, "I thought I saw something... and recently... recently it was weighed heavily on me. I stood by the Casket of Ancient Winters – that is, the Kero Fornvetr, and heard its call."
"The call of Realm's Soul is hard for any creature to resist," Iormungand hummed thoughtfully. "How can one resist? One cannot. How can one resist the call of Life itself? One cannot. One can but give in and not lose oneself in its flow. Yes, its flow - for its currents run as deep as any sea and those who cast themselves without thought may be swept away by it, tugged under and inward and gain the pleasures of knowledge... and the release of Death herself. Such lived the Mystics and the Sages and others before you – and such will live the favoured few long after you are gone. To take part of such mysteries – that is indeed a great honour, a terrible Destiny."
"There is also other... other Voices... Voices of Darkness, of the Deep... of the Void," Loki whispered. "Always they are before me, before my eyes as if I am standing on the edge of the Abyss and must always peer within..."
"To commune deeply with Life, one must fully plumb the depth of Death. One cannot enjoy the one without suffering the other. This is the push and pull of Existence. All must walk the road, swim the path, follow the stream – but you have been gifted with awareness, with the ability to make change, according to your strength of will and abilities – and thereby change the Cosmos itself in indefinable, incalculable ways." Iormungand brushed against Loki's bubble as if in comfort. "The only question is – will you rise to the challenge?"
"I am doing my best..."
"Sometimes," Iormungand replied gently, humming a little lower, "that is all we can expect of ourselves."
"Thank you."
"You are welcome, little Frost Giant."
"The name is – the name is Loki. Loki Odinsson. Of Asgard."
"Asgard," Iormungand drew back, tail swishing a little. "I had no knowledge that Asgard and Jotunheim had managed to bridge the chasm of hate."
"They have not," Loki said quickly, realizing that this could be potentially confusing if he didn't explain himself. "Yet, I have some ability with disguise and have thus been adopted into the Royal Family, taking place beside the Queen Frigga of Vanaheim, Prince Thor and Odin All-Father himself – as a second son."
"They know of your heritage?"
"No," Loki shook his head. "I would they never find out. Asgard is – it is my home now."
"Well, well, well," Iormungand's mouth opened and a high-pitched keening call emitted forth, an approximation, Loki supposed, of an sea serpent's laugh. "That is most interesting – how you creatures surprise me! That Asgard should embrace a snake so close to its bosom and shower it with love... and thus named as well! Ha!"
"What of my name?" Loki asked, leaning forward, green eyes glittering with excitement.
"Ah! Another thing lost to Time, I am afraid – and perhaps best kept there... that an Ancient has survived Jotunheim's Law, and such a One, so gifted with Destiny and Magick, has taken itself to the bosom of Asgard... that smacks of Legend to me, and trust me, little one, having lived these long years, I know the scent of things like these..."
"Please–"
"I will say no more," Iormungand replied dismissively.
"What about the danger of repeating the doom of history?" Loki pressed, hands gripping his leather-clad knees.
"Hmmm..." For a moment, there was silence as Iormungand considered the matter and Loki waited with barely concealed impatience. "Young Loki Odinsson of Asgard and, judging by your ancestral markings, Laufey's True Heir, what can you find in your heart for Jotunheim?"
"If it brings my home no harm," he replied truthfully, "it matters not to me."
"You will protect it – as is your duty?"
"I hold no duty to Jotunheim," Loki stated curtly, raising his chin sharply. "As a babe, it abandoned me – and holds no sway over me, heart or mind or magick." He bit his lip and then added slowly, "Yet, I do not hold any plans for its immediate destruction."
"Hm. Fair enough, I suppose," Iormungand sighed. "Not as well as I wished, but understandable..." A pause and then the Grand-Sire rumbled out a word. "Meerauk." Another pause. "Meerauk. That is the place you seek. Perhaps there you may be ready to hear the truth."
"Thank you," Loki half-bowed from his waist, while remaining seated. "I am in your debt."
"That is a dangerous thing to promise, little Frost Giant, but I hold you to your word. Now, why did you come to my watery halls in the first place. Not to explore such a dark world, surely?"
"I must admit I was always curious as a youngling as to what lived beneath the surface of Vithrvatn Sea... but I came on another matter – a matter of great consequence for the world in general." Here, Loki twisted his hands and summoned the jewel box of King Virs. It glittered oddly throughout the swirling mirky waters – now rather dim and tawdry looking in the green-blue world of Iormungand.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh..." The Sea Serpent's voice rumbled now lower at the sight. "Now that is something I have not seen in a long, long, long, long, long, long time... and had never hoped to see it again..."
"I am sorry..."
"So Nidhoggr has passed on? Odd – I thought I would have felt it..."
"No," Loki chuckled then remembering the look on Thor's and the others' panicked faces as they raced out of the Hall of Dwinbbeleherest. "He still lies in Niflheim and there sires children and lays waste to the surrounding mountains. Of course, many do not believe the tale of his existence, but that matters not to such as he."
"Indeed. Then, why has he ceded guardianship of this... relic?"
"It was my brother – he knows no restraint and wished to retrieve the box for Mother... and I think he did not truly believe Nidhoggr was real. If he did believe Nidhoggr was real, it would not have stopped him, for Prince Thor desires battle as men desire air."
"Ah. So, you rescued the box and its cursed treasure and come here to ask me to watch it?"
"To bury it and watch it, yes," Loki nodded. "Place it where no being can find it – not even I – that is the will of All-Father."
"Hmmm..." Iormungand moved upward and peered down at the small Frost Giant before nodding slowly. "I understand the weight of this – and yet I bear it gladly. Thanos is one who I have never met, yet I heard tales from my kin in far lands... and lost adventuresome snakelets to his cruel desire to court Death."
"We thank you – Asgard thanks you as do the rest of those who live at peace in the Realms and beyond."
"I think not," Iormungand replied dryly – and Loki had to chuckle and laugh a little at the Sea Serpent's matter-of-fact response.
And so, the jewel box of King Virs and the Mind Gem within were transferred carefully onto a nearby flat rock, easily placed for Iormungand to take. After speaking further on other matters concerning Magick and Jotunheim and the disastrous effects of the Long War on Jotunheim's environment and such-like, Loki took his leave, bidding Iormungand a fond farewell and promising to return to tell him tall tales of Thor's adventures. Shifting his form easily, Loki took to the water and swam upward, easily paced by the slow-moving, yet powerful and sinuous Iormungand. Nipping onto a small fin on Iormungand's side, Loki held on tightly as the large serpent sped through his home to where his visitor had first entered, where the ice was now weakest, although already grown over. Ramming his giant head against the spot where the hole had been burned through, Iormungand crashed upward through the ice, making a large enough hole for Loki to easily climb out.
Once there, Loki bid a solemn farewell again and then broke the surface, shifting form, gasping for fresh air and scrabbling his way back up through the ice hole. Underneath his feet, Iormungand's head nudged, helping the short Frost Giant to reach the edge of the ice, and when Loki turned, letting his hand drift within the water, he fancied he could feel Iormungand's tongue run swiftly over his fingertips. Then the Grand-Sire was gone in another surge of magick. Standing on the ice, Loki stared down, hoping against hope that he could see the massive shape of sea serpent moving beneath the ice.
He could not.
-0-0-0-
Meerauk. Meerauk. Loki mulled over the name as he sat among the scraggly ironwood trees the next morning. Meerauk. A foreign name to him. A name, he thought, fit for a dream. Not of this world... a name found in myths, in legends, in stories lost to Time. Meerauk. A name... I feel as though I have heard it before from Elska – but only in stories of the Ancient Times. The Ancient Times when our peoples first woke... surely... surely such a place had not survived the stretch of Time 'till now?
Over a breakfast of grilled eel and a loaf of bread he had brought with him, Loki decided a visit to Snjarhamr was in order. The Elders there may know of it, Loki mused, and here, he grinned wickedly – what a fright they will have at the sight of me... the unwanted creature they no doubt thought would never return... perhaps they no longer even remember me...
Loki forced away the memories of hard bargains, distrustful glances, cruel words and cold, lonely evenings outside looking in the broad windows – and wishing... Wishing... And I – I had responded the only way an untrained animal would... with ill-taught violence, mute sullenness and the occasional slur. Shaking his head, Loki packed his bag and stored it away in his magickal storage spot alongside other things he now kept in secret. But not the Mind Gem. No longer the Mind Gem, the warrior-mage sighed with relief.
Haste sped his way and Loki, using what skills magick had gifted him, transported himself to the place he had called home for so many years – the rickety flet in the tree hidden deep within the Offaer Forest.
He arrived in the now small-seeming clearing without a sound – and looked about for any sign of movement in the thick underbrush of thorn and bracken. No sound. Even here. Loki's suspicions thus confirmed, he made his way over to the thick, twisted jarnvithr tree which held the aged remains of his old home.
Like me, he thought, as he swung up easily to the flet, stunted, twisted and abnormal – a tree unlike its sky-reaching, straight-backed kin. Like me – and perfect for an outcast such as myself.
Glancing about the now derelict place he had called home with no small amount of disfavour, Loki noted how weathering had worn the wooden planks of the tree home, blown away or buried in snow and ice his few belongings. Such as they had been. The small chest he had raided from a collapsed trader's hut in Offaerdale still sat in the corner, unopened and frozen over. On top of it, encased in solid ice, sat his second-best tinderbox and six small crudely carved throwing knives beside a purloined whetstone.
Looking about at the remnants of his past life, Loki flinched as he recalled memories of abuse heaped upon the ever mute, witless Vaetki (how confused I had been – always working to curry favour that could never come and I never figured out why...) and of his even more savage existence as the Ulfrbarn.
It made him ill – and Loki discovered he could not remain there any longer – in the snows and ruins of his past.
If there had been any question, Loki knew now – he would never return. Not to this. Never to this, the now-Aesir Prince vowed. Frigga's words rose in his mind – her well-meaning, unwitting encouragement to explore his misbegotten roots. Jotunheim is not where I am supposed to be, Loki jerked away and stumbled off and down the tree, clumsy with barely restrained anger and shame. With that final decision, Loki disappeared again, not sparing a glance backward.
Behind him, half-dead trees creaked and, far away, its lone voice carried on the limp wind, a wolf howled disconsolantly.
[...and so Destiny changes...]
[...and so the Fates...]
[...countless others...]
[...all, all...]
[...shift and transform...]
Loki arrived unheralded in the midst of pandemonium.
[...thus are the distortions...]
[...of Time...]
[...made clearer...]
[...and more distinct. As one foretold...]
[...a new Destiny, great and terrible unfurled...]
[...a banner of blood and war...]
[...on Jotunheim...]
Offaerdale, where Loki had opted to appear, as if he were any ordinary trader or visitor, was in an uproar. Snow and ice rose in heavy sprays as hovercraft dipped and dug into the ground with their anti-gravity repulsors. Red, green and blue ion blasts hailed down – and then abruptly stopped as Loki appeared, giving two Elves a chance to snag a few blasters of their own from the dead bodies of a few unfortunate aliens and fire back.
Overhead, clouds were releasing their burden of snowflakes, heedless of the battle below, leaving a thin, fresh layer of white, which was now trampled underfoot by the heavy boots of traders. Muddy black soil and ice and snow churned up, creating an ugly sludge throughout the long dale. Elvish, Dwarvish, Jotunn and other alien tongue filled the air with harsh cries as the traders alongside the towering Jotunn clashed with the alien slavers.
Marauders? No, Loki decided as he quickly took in his surroundings. Slavers... not the traditional type certainly. The Mah'konai are a giant folk and have since remained in their Empire since Asgard's conquering of their home planet... There are other races who are willing to stoop to such trade, although I would have thought few would possess the temerity to raid within Asgard's purview, much less have the courage and witlessness to attack a Jotunn. Perhaps Jotunheim's power, now further sapped, cannot protect even its own people...
Whatever the case, Loki's ire rose, being naturally disinclined to take the part of the attackers. Without warning, he swept further into their midst in a flurry of mist and cutting sleet. Sharp needles of ice formed above his left hand and then flew forward as if they were a swarm of bees – an unending shower which sliced at the unprotected faces of the invaders. The warmly bundled Skrull were no match for Loki's pinpoint attack. Sudden cold slowed their movements and in a matter of minutes, three had succumbed to massive ice stab wounds as spikes drove upward from the ground.
Wisely retreating, the Jotunn and their more welcome guests and allies moved back to the edges of the dale, leaving the arena clear for Loki's capable, deft and vicious workings. With another sigil formed and a spell chanted, Loki began to weave a second working while twirling around to slice the sharp end of his spear across the front of a half-breed who had tried to sneak up on him and now reeled away, clutching at a growing stain of blood on his jacket.
For a moment as the slavers regrouped, Loki found enough breathing space to finish the working and, dipping into the shallow pool of Jotunheim's magickal energies, he drew in enough to augment his own power before conjuring and releasing five swirling comets of fire. Targeting the hovercraft, the hyper-intense fireballs crashed into the hulls and burnt their way through melting the thick metal as if it were paper. Then, exploding, the fire blew away the hovercraft, raining shrapnel of flesh, bone, leather, plastic, glass and other materials.
Releasing his summoned personal shield-wall of ice which had successfully risen and protected him from the brunt of the massive explosions, Loki watched as the remaining Skrull, Kree, Thoran and Virax activated their suits and disappeared in blue vortex's of mechanical teleportation. For a moment, there was a taste of metal and ozone and then Jotunheim fell into silence once more.
[...fell...]
[...into silence...]
[...but all things have a beginning and an end and then...]
[...there is renewal...]
[...raise your head, Jotunheim...]
As Loki turned, the storm abated a little at his command, allowing a better view of the battlefield. At the sight of his blue skin, red eyes and black hair, there was a sharp gasp of horrified and awestruck recognition. Whispers rose (It is the lagreinn! The Vaetki returned! Curses! It survived!) - small rumbles of pebbles and ice, the first signs of an avalanche.
Then, the small huddled crowd of Jotunn on the south end of the dale turned as a newly arrived company of Jotunn warriors thundered in. From behind them, striding stiffly and bearing the obvious signs of Jotunn aging, emerged the familiar figure Elder Skyne. At his side, the dour Elder Esaf also paced.
Esaf, Loki remembered, who enjoyed black eel stew and blakkrgras tea harvested from the sweet blakkrgras of the Offaer forest. Skyne – the first to accept and the last Jotunn I glimpsed on the day of my capture. He had looked regretful then... and proud... Elder Skyne...
Drawing himself up to his full height and letting his wolf-skin cloak hang back artfully, Loki gave the newcomers a sharp, unappreciative glance which spoke volumes – finally you arrived! His green eyes glinted from behind long locks of his dark hair which had fallen forward. The look was not lost on Elder Esaf who scowled nor on Elder Skyne who snorted before nodding calmly at the sight of the runt Jotunn. Loki blinked back equally serene, hiding his surprise at the sign of acknowledgement and respect (if brief).
"So," Elder Skyne rumbled, staring down at the lithe runt before him. "The bandits, the slavers have been repelled?"
"Yes, Elder," said one of the miners. "Some were slain but few escaped. They learned a lesson from us today –"
"A lesson from our old ally, I warrant," Skyne guessed shrewdly. "The Ulfrbarn, after all these years, has returned."
"Laufey-King must be notified of the lagrei- ACH!" Elder Esaf bit off suddenly as an ice dagger stung warningly against his broad thigh, just above the knee. He cursed colourfully.
"It is Ulfrbarn," Loki sneered. "Ah – but then, I suppose allowances must be made for the toll of time and correlating memory loss."
"And what of the vagaries of youth?" grunted Esaf snidely smiling down at the Jotunn youth. "There is no sign of maturity upon you, Vaetki."
This time the Elder was able to deflect the responding ice dagger with a short laugh, but he nodded in acceptance.
"Still a spitfire, I see. Hm."
"Come now, Esaf," Skyne scolded his long-time friend and partner, smiling inuldgently at the two who had subsided into burning glares. "We have already devolved this conversation to the quarrels of babes after five minutes time? Tcha!"
"I am no babe," Loki said coolly.
"He was better mute," muttered a farmer.
"Yes, our Ulfrbarn has a sharp tongue on him," Skyne agreed. "He always had."
"A sharp tongue for a sharp mind," Loki said, lifting his chin and setting his feet apart in a wider stance. He grinned then, wide and toothy, white teeth brilliantly set against the exotic blue of his natural skin colour and darker lines.
"The Ulfrbarn?" A Dark Elf trader asked curiously.
"From whence he came, we knew not," Elder Skyne explained, "except that he belonged to no Jotunn but the wilds of Utanheim. The Storr-Mithr of the Great Black Wolf Clan took him to suckle, as stories told – and on a fateful night, we lost him to the dreaded Mah'konai."
"Dreaded no longer," added a Dark Dwarf of Niflheim gruffly. "A bigger fish swallowed them whole if I remember correctly – long ago."
"Yes, well I remember that day," Loki shrugged nonchalantly.
"You bear your years easily," said the Dark Elf with a sly smile. "And... your size..."
"A Vaetki – a no-thing. A Jotunn dvegr – a Jotunn dwarf," bit out a hitherto silent miner.
"Such a creature," another spoke out from somewhere behind, "should have died in the weakness of its infancy. What Father – what Mother allowed such a travesty to continue its painful existence?"
Then, as Loki slowly swept back his long black locks which had fallen foward, revealing his matrilineal lines, the rough voice fell silent. Everyone froze – except for the visitors who understood the gravity if not the particulars of the situation. Skyne and Esaf drew sharp breaths as Loki looked up at them defiantly.
"Where I come from?" Loki's voice was as cold and bitter as the unfeeling wind which blew down from the mountains. "That is a question only too easy to answer but I-"
"That cannot be be," whispered Skyne, falling to one knee.
"Check," Esaf's voice had descended to a choked, guttural level.
Skyne held out a broad, rough palm lined with the deep etches only Time and a difficult life could bestow. Reluctantly, Loki extended his hand in response to the unspoken invitation. Gently, surprisingly gently, Skyne turned Loki's much smaller hand in his – wide, black-tipped fingers almost reverently tracing the other smaller wedge-like lines which ran up the length of Loki's inner forearm. More gasps rose as Skyne nodded and then bent down further to raise the back of Loki's hand to his broad forehead in the most ceremonial greeting one could grant royalty. Then the wise old Elder raised his eyes and sighed sadly.
"We beg apologies, Nameless One."
Loki wasn't exactly sure how to respond. For the first time in a long time, words failed him.
-0-0-0-
In the end, a celebration was held – at Loki's humble (and diplomatic) insistence – in honour of all the victors who had participated in the battle against the invaders. Divided consciences thus assuaged, Snjarhamr's Elders could pay respect to the Royal Family as need be without making it official. For Loki was – and would always be – in the eyes of more superstitious Jotunn, a threat to the Fortune's of Jotunheim no matter who bore him or how many invaders he annihilated.
Knowing his position full well, Loki discreetly cast poison-detecting charms over his meal of cold, thinly sliced fish, eel, wheat-bread and imported Vanir cordial. He understood. He was prepared.
After, when all had returned home, Loki found himself on the Great Hall's second floor, looking out over the now quiet Snjarhamr from the convenient view of the front balcony. At his side, Skyne stood, tall and silent. Snow still fell, its blanket growing thicker by the hour. Loki shivered – infinitesimally. The cold he had forgotten thanks to his time in the even temperatures of space, in the heated glow of club and arena lights – and beneath the intolerant sunshine of Asgard.
"You still find the cold uncomfortable, Ulfrbarn?"
"Somewhat, no doubt due to my absence," was Loki's absent reply. "I had grown used to enough when I was younger."
"You will remember ease within the snows again soon enough, I suppose," Skyne replied, comfortingly with unspoken promise.
"Hm."
"But I sense..." Skyne hesitated. "I sense – a burden-"
"A burden?" A pause. Then: "Perhaps."
"Why did you return to this dying Realm, little one?"
"I came in search of a name," Loki explained carefully, knowing that the best kind of lie was a half truth. "A name and a place. My path, I hope, will lead me to my goal."
"And that is?" Skyne asked with no little apprehension.
"A place lost to time, 'tis said," Loki mused aloud. "Meerauk."
"Ah. Meerauk."
"You know of it?"
"Only of it – it is the birth place of all Jotunheim – but mostly of Kings and thus a sacred place for the Jotunn... Your – Laufey-King would know of it."
"Laufey-King," Loki said the name slowly as if tasting it. His tongue felt heavy as lead - the two words sounded bitter.
"Laufey-King," Elder Skyne echoed before adding cautiously. "And by all accounts, your... Faetha."
"Birth lines do not lie," Loki sighed, turning his arms over to cast an eye on the markings there – markings which had fully formed during his stint in the shadowy planet of the mining colony. Markings he had long thought decorative – useless – and now blessed with deeper meaning.
"Indeed," Skyne tilted his head and gave Loki a thoughtful look. "Ulfrbarn – I cannot give you guidance – for I know you will find your own way... and such headstrong wilfulness has no time for an aged one's words. Yet, this foolish old Jotunn cannot help but say-" Skyne halted, frowned, collected his thoughts and then started afresh. "Go to Laufey-King... ask for what you seek, but do not linger. The Court is a den of desperate creatures these days. Remember... open hands hold hidden daggers." A hard look then. "Do you understand?"
"More than you know," Loki replied quietly, flexing his fingers, knowing how many hidden daggers laid ready for him. "This is not my home."
"It could never be your home-"
"Jotunheim can make no vaetki a place, I know-"
"Nay, it is not a matter of being vaetki," Skyne said sharply, shaking his head. "No – well, not in full. In part, yes, the last thing Jotunheim needs, some believe, is the curse of an Abomination. They will find ways to remove such a stain from its soil. For safety alone, it would not do well for you to linger. Yet, that is not my intent – it is not what I perceive – although the considerations of an old wit as myself is never really heeded... No... Ulfrbarn, I see in you such vitality – such Life – this graveyard of a Realm can no more hold you, feed you, than an ice field can yield a single tunglblom blossom."
"Ah..." Loki hesitated and nodded.
Skyne's hand descended to grip the shorter, younger Jotunn's hard shoulder.
"I understand."
"I am sorry," Skyne said softly.
"I know," Loki replied in acceptance.
-0-0-0-
With that, the following week, after completing some useful workings to aid any desperate farmers who did not mind accepting the aid (and charmed field blessings) of a runt, Loki left for Laufey-King's current seat in Gastropnir hard by the Grarfjall Mountains. Deciding to take his time and take stock of Jotunheim's readily apparent devastated state, Loki travelled with the annual Caravan, so called Arlang'leith, which wound its way southward to Vatnboer and beyond to Thrymheim. Over the brutal, sharp ridges of the Kaldrfjall Mountains, they crawled and out the other side emerged, a little more frozen and battered than usual, and found well-earned rest in Griotunagardar.
Loki found Griotunagardar most interesting, for he had never visited the city which hugged the shores of Lake Gnottvatn. Despite its gay decorations in jarnvithr carvings and blue-white banners which flapped briskly in the wind, Gnottvatn held an undercurrent of desperation. Walking down the streets on the outskirts of the large city, Loki noted the run-down quality of the peasantry's huts. He did not linger however, knowing that his size and alien nature would draw the more superstitious toward him, particularly those who, having little hope, would easily expend their frustrations on others around them. More than ever, as word spread about his arrival, Loki would have to be on his guard.
Already someone will have left to bear the news to Laufey-King, Loki mused. He refused to call, much less think, the word 'mother' or 'father'. The monarch of Jotunheim, Laufey-King would always be just that to Loki. An unknown quantity, an unfamiliar face. Helbindi however... At the thought of his stiff, formal older brother, Loki grinned sharply in anticipation. The the image of Helblindi's face would not leave Loki's overactive imagination. What would he look like – what would Laufey-King look like upon realizing that the small piece of trash, of which they had been so quick to rid themselves, had returned?
Loki bit his lip as a sharp chuckle rose. They will not be able to fully disown me, he snorted to himself then, fingers tracing again the lines on his inner left forearm. I will be a thorn in their side, a pebble in their shoe... They will despise me – as they must – they will hate all I stand for. My abilities, my mischief – ah yes – there is that to show them as well. Loki sighed. If only Thor were here to see such tricks. He would laugh.
So Loki laughed instead.
It sounded alien, coming from him there in that cold, hard land. Light, alien, threatening – maybe.
A dark promise of things to come.
Well, what d'ya guys think? What's Loki going to do? Ba-dum, ba-dum. I've already written the next chapter and Chapter 51, which I'm working on, is a 10 page+ monstrosity...
Also, will write another side story for reviewers beyond Chapter 48 to celebrate the passing of 400 reviews~ You guys are awesome~ But I can't write it until I'm done my NaNoWriMo... It'll prolly be "A Day With Elska". So yep... Leave a review after Chap 48 and I'll take note. XD
Let me know what you think~
Leave a rant about Thor 2 (b/c I just saw it and I love fangirling about Loki~)...
See ya round~-KI
Alien Glossary:
'auzha – fucker
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
cho'ai - lover
kol-sava'atha – a titanium-rich ore
Morning-star - a mace.
oma'auzha – mother-effer
oto'oa - big sister
udji'oo – a drug, like opium
Asgardian Glossary:
bikkja – bitch
Brenna-Fir – the Immolation
Drakka Thyod – Dragon Race
ergi - womanly, weak, "gay"
Fiendfyre – a phoenix-firebird
Flauguna – flying feet/teleportation
fotr'ro - footstool
Ginnung – the Void
harhvila - high bed
Hiti-mothr – Flame Fury (also known as Lachruth)
Kaesia-Seithr – Spirit-Spear style
Koma a Aldr – Coming of Age
Kveykva-herklaethi – Light Armoured style
Laegja – the Immersion
Ofolr Leith – Dark Paths, Other Ways (crossing the Void)
Ominni-tith - the Forgotten Times
Rikr-Hringraevi – Grand Cycles of Time
Runa a Fyrsta – Rites of Initiation
Runa a Kelda – Rites of Spring
Runa'a'vetr – Winter Solstice
Saga-Vefr – Story-weavers
seithr - magic
seithrmaster - mage, sorceror
Skjald-borhyrr – Wall of Flame
Skipa – the Infusion
Skokkr-a-Mir – concealment skills, Box of Mirrors (also known as Col'ca-cenedril)
stormerki – mysteria
Tveir-Andlit – illusionary skills, Double Face
Velspara-Speki – the Well (of Wisdom)
Elvish Glossary:
skreyppa – slippery one
gargani – snake
fintalenir – trickster
vanwa – defeated one, impolite term for "loser"
caitahto – liar
curunar – fiery one
Lachruth – Flame Fury
Col'ca-cenedril – Box of Mirrors
Cebir-Gondlug – Spike-Stone Dragon
Am'loce Norie – Dragon Race
raudhaust – high bed
Jotunheim Glossary:
Aldinn Stathr – Ancient Place
Arlang'leith – the Annual Caravan
Atfirth – energies
blakkrbjorr – black beer
Blakkrbjorn – black bear
blakkrgras – black grass
blargras – blue grass
Dagaheim
dvegr – dwarf
dyrspeki – zoologist
Eybjarg (Chasms of Forever)
Faetha - Mother
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)
Utanheim – Outer Realm
Utgard
vaetki – nothing
ventrmellin – winter melon
villrkyr – wild ox
Virtha Aevi – Coming of Age
Vollrvatn – Lake of the Plains