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, first off, apologies again - this time it's not my fault! (YAY!) I had written up a chapter and had it all ready to go but just as I was about to post, the internet blinked out and it's been blinked out for some time and will be out for the next few days. (I'M GOING TO DIE!)
This means... well... this means...
a) dunno when the next update is gonna be - maybe when I get back home to my apartment in la China.
b) I won't be able to reply to your comments... AGAIN! T_T SORRY!c) any new updates on fanart and stuff will have to go on hold until nets come back...
But here's a new chapter anyways - thanks to my awesome sister Joy and her unlimited data and her phone and her Wi-Fi hotspot~! The good news is that I've got the next chapter almost done~! So when I do get internet back or just as soon as I get home, I'll be able to update~!
Thank you guys so much!
So... thank you to: acidburned, lizzy, Guest, InsolentKatt, Chiharu-Angel, ClaMiAl, cecld16, and zippy zany. Your support has been so amazing... I hope I can reply to your comments soon!
Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]
Chapter 57
Wheels Turn III
"...shall the King Who Was lead the One Who Will Be..." Odin's aged, gruff voice filtered out into the night from the high tower in which both he and his eldest stood.
Try as he might, Thor found himself once again bored by the rambling, meaningless words which poured out from his father's lips as the older man slowly moved through the words of blessing and ceremony. Beyond, through the the wide window facing the South and the cloud-topped Skythurs, Thor could see the sun slowly setting in the late afternoon. Soon there would be a quiet family dinner, followed by some last minute planning, followed by a night of meditation before the Haugbui Bustathr, the Shrine of the Kings, on his knees as his father had done before him and his grand-father and his great-grand-father and all those men who had taken the throne before him. Thor sighed, drumming his fingers restlessly on his knee as his father continued.
"...to the Well of Understanding, that the path of knowledge for those who wear the crown may begin with the blessings of the Realm's Spirits. Yea, for the Realm's Spirit's speaks wisely and with great knowledge..."
Loki would understand what this is all about, Thor thought, remembering the quiet trip he had made with Odin and the High-Mages – Mage Agaeti, Mage Hrotha, Mage Flarathir – to a secluded garden, a quiet place and a hidden well. Sipping from the ladle in the manner of all the Asgardian kings before him, Thor had found himself feeling even stronger, more confident and more powerful than ever before. For a moment, he had been transported to worlds and planets. Places one day which will marvel at our glory, Thor mused. So many things to see...
There had been other things as well – the song of Asgard which seemed so familiar to him, the voices of the wind –
...welcome you, son of lightning...
...child of the storm...
...who brings the days of prophecy...
...the beginning and the end of all things...
Things he could hardly begin to understand. They said that I was not to say anything of what I saw... but perhaps I could tell Loki... But Loki would understand. He would know, because it is his area of expertise. The Realm of What Is Unseen, the world of Magick, the power of Yggdrasil is a wild force none can tame and few can ride those winds and live to tell the tale. Loki would have liked it there. Perhaps he has been there already...
"...being neither Here nor There, being Inside and Outside of Time's domain themselves, and being of the Living and of the Dead together. Thus, they speak and thus shall listen the One Who Will Be, that the Crown-Bearer may be one with the Strength of the Realm, Asgard's Spirit..."
Odin's voice rolled onward and upward, out with the wind, wavering up and down as the old King's finger trailed across the yellowed pages of the leather and wood bound vellum held in his left hand. Thor watched the sun set and dreamed of the throne which soon would be his.
[...the day approaching...]
[...a fateful day...]
[...like so many others...]
[...begins as others began before...]
The incredibly eventful Coronation Day for Thor began as many others had begun before – with a swift, orange and pink sunrise brightening into a brilliant, day with crisp winds, puffy clouds and robin's egg blue skies. All the colours of the city seemed more vivid to Loki's eye when he finally dragged himself off his bed and out to his balcony at the early hour of the fifth morning bell. It might have been the mild hangover he was experiencing from the feast held night before – in honour of the great and mighty and glorious and delusional Thor. Ahhh... but then, Loki thought with a sigh as he slumped against his balcony railing, it is always easy for Asgard to celebrate her finest and to bask in the sunlight of her pride, in the rays of her achievements... well, who would not?
Loki's eyes slowly wandered over the broad vista laid out before him, focusing on the waving green branches below, the white caps of the water as it rushed down from the mountain and over the large waterfall, the blue-green depths of the far ocean and the variegated colours of the banners and flags and pennants and streams which decorated the city. After a moment, at the sound of three servants bustling into his room – one bearing his favoured green cloak for special occasions, newly pressed, the other bringing breakfast, while the third disappeared into the bathroom to start his bath. Nibbling at the grapes, apples, khalo and other more inviting fruits on the tray, Loki watched as the young page boy recently pressed into service was sent into a corner to re-polish his already blindingly shiny boots.
Two hours later, smelling less sweaty, feeling even less rested and already thoroughly disenchanted with the bustle and commotion emanating from the direction of Thor's bedroom, Loki wandered off, no longer the concern of the palace staff, much less noticed by Odin, which suited him fine. Finding a nook in the library, Loki summoned a copy of himself quietly and morphed it into a common looking tradesman from the South.
"Your name is Kauth," Loki said in a soft undertone to the blonde-haired, green-eyed short man. "Take this and deliver it to Illesa, the Dark Elf." Kauth accepted the letter silently and made his way out, ready to answer with the automated reply that he was running an errand for one of the courtiers regarding the coronation.
On such a day as this, Loki thought, it is the answer that will open the doors to every place, even the most remote. Doors, he thought, as he swept past the dark, black and brown lintel of the library. Doors that are open, doors that are locked, doors that are shut and must remain so... doors to our future...
"Loki? Oh! There you are! Such a commotion!"
It was Frigga, looking flushed and a little flustered. She had on a new gown as well – a pale, ethereal affair which seemed to make her glow with quiet beauty, rising up to gather in a diamond studded bodice and showing off all of her regal beauty. Although Loki gathered, from the bouncing white ties on her head, that her hair had not been finished quite yet.
"Mother-"
"I was wondering if you were ready – but I see that you are, of course. Of course. Thor is being, well, you know... Thor... such a handful, that boy – as always. Just when you need everything to be just so – and it is his day, after all. But of course, that is just... men... I mean," Frigga paused as she realized who she was talking to, "well, I was not implying-"
"It is fine, Mother," Loki smiled, taking the unspoken compliment for what it was. "Thor has no thought for others at the best of times. I have said it before... and I will say it again."
"Hm, well, I am sure it will all turn out," Frigga swept off, taking Loki along with her as she turned down several small corridors to end up her personal suite. "I just need to get my hair done and I will be ready – but there are so many other things I need to ensure are done. Perhaps you could be a dear and look over the list with Starfa and Eiga?"
"Well..." Loki quickly ran through his own schedule mentally, but already he knew that he would just have to improvise.
Leaving Mother to deal with Thor on her own is not an option, Loki decided. It will work out... As long as Sairina and Bofain have the pass's spell word, then all is well. After all, it is important that I am before Odin and the Court when the Jotunn come... and even if they are caught before reaching the Vault, that is enough...
Pushing his other plans away, Loki focused on the sheaf of parchment which Frigga handed over, while she sat at her favoured stool before her mirror, allowing the maidservants to gather about. Loki, with the chief housekeeper, Eiga, and Frigga's head maidservant, Starfa, on either side of him, scanned through the list. Seating arrangements (and rearrangements), last minute touches to decorations, updates on the progress of the kitchens, and other minutiae were quickly double-checked with occasional asides thrown in from Frigga sandwiched between the girls.
Eventually, Frigga's hair was done and Loki's checklist was triple-checked, allowing him to disappear to the relative safety of his rooms until the actual time of the ceremony. The relative silence there did not soothe Loki nor allay his misapprehensions. Pacing about in circles, he awaited the return of his clone – and as the time of its absence was prolonged, Loki wondered if something had perhaps gone wrong. If the message had not been clear enough, if the Dark Elf and the Skrull decided to abandon the mission halfway through... if the guards were more cautious than usual, as is their wont during important ceremonies... or if the Jotunn could not arrive on time at the place as planned – or worse, if they decide not to come at all... Loki sighed. So much could go wrong with this... but the final product is worth the risk...
When Kauth slipped into the room with a quick nod, Loki gave a short sigh of relief, listened to the short report and then sent Kauth back with the final spell, straightened his collar in the mirror and double-checked his hair before fetching his favoured gold-embossed horned helmet. My proud horns, he thought, looking over the polishing handiwork of his page boy. A proud thing for a proud day.
Fitting the helm on, Loki peered into the mirror, turning his head this way and that, smoothing out the barest of curls that showed at the edges toward the back of his neck. Smoothing out the wrinkles on his brow and wiping his face of any negative emotion. Placing on that canvas, on that facade, a look of solemnized gaiety. This is Thor's moment, he thought with a sly smirk, this is his moment – but this will be my moment as well. Hm. Yes.
My moment.
-0-0-0-
The coronation of Crown Prince Thor was a first for everyone involved – Odin had never given the throne and crown to any other, Asgard had never seen such a ceremony since that long ago time when Odin's father had passed onto Valhalla leaving his young son in charge. Yet, the Head-Masters of Ceremonies, the Mages of Rites and Rituals and Frigga had attempted to curtail Thor and make certain that the rambunctious prince would know the exact measure of his responsibilities and responses for the incredibly momentous ceremony. Thor, of course, as Loki knew, got into the spirit of the thing with each new recital and as each new day brought the promised coronation closer.
Every moment guided, Loki thought, a glimpse into his future life – if he recognizes it. The ever present push and pull of kingship... and does Thor appear to understand? Loki slipped down a dimly lit, golden and bronze side hall detouring from his initial goal – his place at Frigga's side on the right-hand side of Odin. A pale curtain-banner flared in Asgard's wind as it blew into the grand room just below the entrance foyer's steps. Loki paused there and listened.
...this is the day...
...the day of promise...
...the day of Fate...
...and Asgard's Doom...
A victorious Asgard, Loki grimaced, rushing as it always does down the path of destruction without a thought as to what it means for the rest of us. Thor in essence... and he embodies it – and does he understand his inheritance? Of course not... this is merely the superstitious old wives' tales. 'Pay no heed to them', that is what he would say.
...what you plan...
...what will bring us only glory...
...you who do not stand so greatly under the sun...
Beyond, Loki could hear the crash of a pewter mug tossed in the usual way with the corresponding flare of fire and Thor's victorious shout 'Another!'.
With a grin, Loki edged around banner, joining his brother to stand shoulder to shoulder and looking forward down the long stretch of hall down to the waiting fleygja-skip that the future king of Asgard would have to walk. Will have to walk alone, Loki thought, perhaps he will understand the importance of this during this time? What can I say to him? Could I tell him even now – Thor, if deep down you do not feel ready, than do not lie to yourself... I who tell tales and construct lies and weave webs of cunning know – I know – that in the end, you cannot lie to yourself. In the end... you must face the truth...
"Nervous, brother? I would not blame you if you were." Loki's quiet voice seemed more hushed to his ears than usual.
As if I am going to a funeral...
Thor's laughter jolted his younger brother – and Loki found himself grinning in response despite the words which followed.
"Have you ever known me to be nervous?"
"Uh, well, there was that time in Nornheim..."
"That was not nerves, brother, that was the rage of battle."
"Ah. I see. So your panicked yelling at Sif was just a trick of my imagination..."
"How else could I have fought my way through a hundred warriors and pulled us out alive?" Thor asked, blue eyes twinkling.
"Ah," Loki noted coolly, "as I recall, I was the one who veiled us in smoke to ease our escape, but of course you would be the first to forget such important details."
"Yes," Thor laughed then, teasingly, "some do battle, others just do tricks."
At the slight sound of an echo of laughter, Loki's green eyes shifted suddenly to the side, noticing the servant bringing Thor a final glass of mead. It was Nevirth, dressed in his best brown robes, cream tunic and leather boots, looking as insolent as always.
Perhaps, Loki thought, he has only been able to see the 'me' of before – the Kol'la, the stable boy and the mage's apprentice – and not who I am now. For a moment, Loki thought of the other throne he had seen in Jotunheim. Laufey-king's throne, which, he knew, could have one day been his. A great dark chair, weighty and aged as any Asgardian gilded hall – and no more his than Thor's future seat. Yet, even if I do not gain a throne, I have worth, I have abilities... and I am their equal...
They never see it, do they, the long-forgotten darker side of Loki whispered again. They will never see it.
With a quick twist of his hand and a silent spell recalled, Loki sent his magick outward, felt it curl and twist and spill into the cups. A wonderful working, if rudimentary, yet it achieved the desired effect. As the snakes twisted out and around the tray, Nevirth gave a horrified gasp, dropped the tray and cups, jumping back in horror. Loki laughed and Thor gave an exasperated sigh.
"Loki!" He shook his head and let out a good-natured sigh. "That was just a waste of good wine."
"Oh, just a bit of fun. Right, my friend?" Loki said, shooting Nevirth a cutting look.
Nevirth scuttled off and at the sight of the ever obsequious servant hustling away at something as simple as such a working, the two young men laughed. Loki waved his hand, reverting the squirming snakes back to their original constituents. Thor laughed and hit Loki lightly on the arm before turning to accept his helmet which Frigga had told him to wear going down the carpet. Looking at the small metal thing, Loki chuckled again.
"Oooh, nice feathers."
"You do not really want to start this again, do you, cow?" Thor retorted good-naturedly as he always did. "The both of us know how this will end."
A tradition. A welcome one in the face of the momentous day, a day that would change everything.
"I was being sincere," Loki lightly protested.
"You are incapable of sincerity."
"Am I?"
A small pause and then Loki turned a little to face his older brother square on, looking up those few inches to meet Thor's eyes.
"I have looked forward to this day as long as you have, my brother," the younger brother also added, "and friend."
Another short silence as the two stood there, eyes suddenly fixed elsewhere, as they thought on the two words which lay between them: brother, friend. Finally, Thor stirred and laid a hand on Loki's shoulder comfortingly.
"My brother and friend. Yes. It seems like only yesterday that you and I met, only yesterday that you came to Asgard and made your home here at my side."
"Yes," Loki nodded. "We have known each other for a long time now – and this, this coronation will... will bring you, will bring me to a different place. Maybe I am... uneasy. Perhaps you are as well. Sometimes," Loki admitted, "I am a bit envious... but never doubt that I love you."
"Thank you," Thor said, clasping Loki firmly before drawing back. "I know."
"Now give us a kiss," Loki nudged his brother, attempting to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere.
"Stop it."
Another pause as the two resumed their stances and looked onward contemplatively. Soon, so soon, Loki thought. It will all begin. Uncharacteristically quiet and uncertain, Thor's voice broke into Loki's moody thoughts.
"How do I look?"
How do I look? How do you look, Thor? Loki glanced then sideways and upwards at his tall, golden-haired, blue-eyed, ever muscular, ever confident brother and saw that for the first time in his life perhaps, Thor was not entirely sure of himself. Do I say it now? Is it not too late... but if he knows... if he is not sure, perhaps he will change... perhaps he will take advice. Perhaps he will be able to question himself.
"Like a king," Loki found himself saying.
In the end, I wish his dreams would come true, Loki mused. I wish that he will succeed. How could I not? He is... He is... my brother.
A revelation. Shadows shifted, the banner fluttered softly, the guards shifted in the further edges of the large room, the fire crackled. Far away, the sounds of fanfare were beginning.
"It is time," Loki said softly.
"Go ahead."
Loki looked over at Thor uncertainly.
"Go on!" Thor urged. "I will be right behind."
Without another word, Loki left giving the Masters of Ceremony a short nod as he passed them and went onward and outward and then upward to his place by the Queen, his mother.
It had begun.
-0-0-0-
The palace of Asgard, the largest palace in the entire Nine Realms, was built during the golden years of that great Realm – during the reign of King Ai the Magnificient. The ancient sagas tell of the people who laid its foundations when Asgard was but a tiny Realm, born as the others with it from the very branches of Yggdrasil itself. These people, or so the tales say, were taller than most. Taller and greater and each of them born with mysterious powers. In the pride of their strength and the power of their wisdom, they built the Mikla-Konungsgarthr, the Great Hall of the Fathers, and over the years as king after king came to the throne of Asgard, new additions were built, resulting in a large complex fit for the most powerful Realm of Reality itself.
Standing tall and golden, curving upward with natural grace and strength, the main hall rose from the centre. Lower down, underneath the great gold citadel, sixteen massive pillars held up a lofty granite and marble ceiling, decorated with swirls and glints of gold and silver. This was the throne of the All-Father himself. A grand open area which was usually closed during most times of the year, but during this great ceremony, the inner massive walls had been rolled upward to allow for the crowds of courtiers, mages, merchants and people of Asgard to come and attend the coronation of their new, would-be King. Today the entire outer plaza and the upper and lower tiers of the inner Court were filled.
Everything was gleaming and glistening, the red banners newly spruced up and mended fluttered in the soft breeze and even the grey stone looked clean. As Thor arrived in a ceremonial fleygja-skip likewise decorated with banners and flags and piloted by the august Einherjar, the Crown Prince's heart swelled with pride at the sight of so many come to see the coronation. Beautiful maidens, coiffed matrons, tailored handsome lads and their fathers – all of them dressed in their finest silks, cottons and leathers. Leaving the barge, Thor walked down the long red carpet, descending the first set of stairs and entering the inner Court room.
On either side of the carpet another row of imperial guards, the Einherjar, stood at attention in gleaming armour and bearing the most ceremonial and powerful spears and weapons. Walking between the two lines, Thor strode, opening up his shoulders and allowing the cheering crowds to better appreciate his new armour, his newly woven red cloak and Mjolnir. Flipping his hammer upward, Thor gave a shout, drawing another pleased yell from the crowd. His eyes drifted upward – and suddenly, all he could see was the throne.
My throne, Thor found himself suddenly light-headed with glee and anticipation as the realization set in.
His father sat, waiting and holding Gugnir, and on either side of the king, standing poised and regal on the stairs were those whom Thor held dear to his heart – his Mother, Loki, and Sif to Odin's right and Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun on Odin's left. Frigga was suppressing a look of amused exasperation, Sif seemed to rolling her eyes and Loki's face looked as blank as he usually did during incredibly formal ceremonies.
He is probably sighing deep down... or smirking... or both... Thor grinned at the thought as he continued down the red carpet, at least the others are enjoying themselves. Fandral and Volstagg look cheery.
Then, Thor found himself at the foot of the Dais, in front of the stairs which led up to the throne. Kneeling, the Prince took off his winged silver helmet and set it on the floor as Odin rose slowly to his feet, gripping Gugnir with a firm hand. With a deafening clang, the great staff rose and fell on the Dais, silencing the crowd.
In a slow voice, Odin spoke out, his voice ringing out over the masses before him and his blue eye fixed hard on the young man before him.
"Thor, Odin's Son, my heir, my firstborn," he paused then added, "so long entrusted with the mighty hammer Mjolnir, forged in the heart of a dying star. Its power has no equal. It is a weapon to destroy or as a tool to build. 'Tis a fit companion for a King." Odin nodded and continued, "I have defended Asgard and the innocent across the Nine Realms since the time of the Wars..."
-0-0-0-
Several levels below, the first, unattended gate was passed swiftly and silently by the three guides – the Dark Elf, the Skrull and the incognito Asgardian sent by the Prince – and four Jotunn. All of them, according to the short note, were concealed by a spell which would be activated by the Dark Elf upon reading, and that, as planned, the first gate would be unattended, leading to a secret passage and then a small downward spiralling stair to the vault. Arrival was easily achieved, the Jotunn knew, it would be the retreat which would be more difficult.
Thus, they moved swiftly, quietly and efficiently – striking hard and fast when need arose, avoiding any unnecessary contact. Upon reaching the final door to the stairs which cut downward sharply into the hidden deeps of the Asgardian palace, the Jotunn parted ways from their guides. The Dark Elf and tradesman, once it was clear all was well, rejoined the borrowed fleygja-skip which would take them to the mountains quickly and thence out of a secret path to Svartalfheim. Te'cha, he Skrull, shrinking to the shape of a young Asgardian boy, returned to the first gate to keep watch.
Disappearing into the shadowed stairwell, the Jotunn made their way down to their destination. Ahead of them lay the side-door into the Vault, a few guards and their prize. It was an easy matter to reach the quiet, dim place, the Hoarding-Hall of Odin, the secret treasure store of the most powerful weapons in the world. Ice crept along the walls, crackling – the guards halted, the Jotunn sprang upon them, killing the unfortunate, unwary Asgardians without a word and then, there was silence again.
It had begun.
The Casket whispered, its blue depths swirling.
-0-0-0-
"Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?"
"I swear," Thor replied easily as he continued on through the final rites of passage, the final phrases which would lead to a crown, a seat of glory and what he had been born for all his life.
A pause, then Odin continued.
"And do you swear to preserve the peace?"
"I swear."
"Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and to pledge yourself only to the good of the Realms?"
"I swear!" Thor repeated, this time with more emphasis as he raised Mjolnir above his head.
"Then," Odin slowly spoke, "on this day, I, Odin All-Father, proclaim you –"
Odin's words sudddenly came to a halt and the ancient blue eye turned away, unfocussed, as though the elderly king saw something within his mind's eye.
...beware, great King...
...beware the dark fate future holds...
After looking about carefully for any sign of other Asgardians, the Jotunn took note of what lay inside, until their gaze rested upon the far end where pale light shone brightest before a great grille and before that, a small stone pedestal upon which sat the one thing which they sought above all else. Dismissing the youngest Jotunn to the far door, to stand guard, the other three Jotunn quickly made their way up the room.
...beware the rise of dark and ice and fire...
...and war...
A blue hand rested upon the iron and crystal case which held what was most precious to the Jotunn in all the Nine Realms: the Kero Fornvetr, the Casket of Ancient Winters, the relic of a glorious age, the hope of a brighter future.
...beware...
Lifting the Casket, the Captain of the Haugbui Bustathr, Isfal son of Martr, turned away and began to make his way with his companions to the door.
They never made it.
...beware the whispers...
...deceit beneath deceits...
...illusion beneath illusions...
The fourth Jotunn, a younger guard, peering around the edge of the door watched with horror as the Destroyer made short work of his superiors. Without a word, the young one fled, joining the Skrull, who, upon hearing the dark tidings, cursed and brought his remaining charge down the final hallway, out into the sun and then down another set of stairs to the waiting flying skiff. After hiding the Jotunn and the Dark Elf beneath a brown canvas tarpaulin, Kauth and Te'cha cruised slowly down through the lower levels of the city before meandering out beyond the southern bridge into the mountains, looking for all the world like a patrolling guard.
Thrusting down on the helm of the fleygja-skip, Kauth increased speed, forcing the nose of the ship higher until they were soaring through the clear air above the gently rippling waters of the Ninendifljot River delta and the small accompanying lake. Upward they soared, the Skrull swore gently as their helmsman showed no sign of slowing, forcing the small ship into a crevice that could barely allow its girth to pass – forward, onward into the rocky cave and then, in a flash of multitudinous colours, through the unseen paths into Svartalfheim. As the skiff slowed down, bouncing across the gravel, Illesa peered back the canvas to look out cautiously at his homeworld.
They had arrived.
"What was that all about?" Te'cha snapped, his natural green scales shifting through his form as his shape shifted back to the usual humanoid shape of the lizard-like Skrull.
"It was the Farbjothr," breathed the young Jotunn. "The Destroyer."
"I heard of it," the Dark Elf said softly, then shuddered, "not a legend then."
"No," said the Jotunn, "not a legend." His gaze drifted to the Asgardian who stood silent at the helm, the boat now safely touching down. "Why did you not tell us more about it?"
"He could not have known-"
"Nobody knows the details of such a thing," spat the Dark Elf, "None have survived to tell such a tale... An Abomination created by the Dark Dwarves long ago, if you believe the stories."
"Yet, he could have helped us!" huffed the Jotunn. "It is the fault of the Vaetki-" At this, the Frost Giant rose, fists clenched. "Speak – where is the runtling?"
No answer.
"Giant," Illesa shook his white-haired head. "Can you not see?"
The Jotunn lunged forward, but his fingers met air, passing through the brown tunic and the rough hands of the tradesman who faded in a mist of green.
"It was an illusion," Te'cha said simply, with a grin, flicking a knife open. "It always was."
"But then," the Dark Elf continued, charging his preferred laser gun, "you are young."
Well, that was that! Yet another part of the super long chapter that never ends. (tears) Next time we get... a lot of discussion and preparation. Very soon... JOTUNHEIM.
Of course.
I know some of you may feel... HMMMMM... this seems a lot like canon - but the differences which are showing up here and there are going to increase drastically by Chapter 59 or so. I hope this is encouraging... for any of those out there who are worried that this is just going to be a rehash of the movies.
-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
Almror'ganga - Long Range Weapon Contest
Arlang'leith – the Annual Caravan
Atfirth – energies
ausa'songr fugl - flow-songbirds
blakkrbjorr – black beer
Blakkrbjorn – black bear
blakkrgras – black grass
blargras – blue grass
blar'iss hros - black ice horse
Blaufe'irsteinn - blue fire stone
Brandr'ganga - Unarmed Combat
Dagaheim
Dauthr'ganga - Death Duel
dvegr – dwarf
dyrspeki – zoologist
Eybjarg (Chasms of Forever)
Faetha'snaer - "Mother", "who births the snow"
Farbjothr – the Destroyer
fauld – a part of armour around the lower midsection
Fjor'fylgja – Life Mate
Flara River – Treacherous River
fleygja-skip – flying/shooting ship
For-Eldra – Ancestors
Forn Vegr – Old Ways
Frothleikr'ganga - Battle of Magick
Fylgja'snaer - "Father", "who aids the snow"
Gastropnir
Glima'ganga - Battle of Swords
Gnaefki-Seggr – High Guard
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
hjarr'veithr - rabbit chaser (a kind of eagle)
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
hvitr'steinn - white fire stone
Innaheim – Inner Realm
iss'hona'by - ice honey bee
jarnkottr – iron cat (beast which Laufey released in Thor)
jarnvithr – iron wood
Kaldrfjall (Cold Mountains)
kalo – a kind of purple-red fruit, similar to a pomegranate or dragonfruit
Kero Fornvetr – Casket of Ancient Winters
kostrboth – a method of proving virility for the purpose of marriage
lagreinn – small one (epithet)
lagr'hyggr – fool
Lengi Ofrithr – Long War
luthrblom – trumpet flower
manisilfr – moonsilver
Meir'brothir – Older Brother
melrakki – white fox
Myrkr Skogr – shadow forest
Nattura – spirits
Northri Stjarna – North Star
rjothr'auga haukr - red-eyed hawk
silvralmr – silver elm
silvrfiskr – silver fish
Sithr Efingi – True Heir
Skalldi
skordyr – Jotunheim goat
Smar'brothir – Younger Brother
snaerharra – snow rabbit
snjarlang'hvartha - snow camel
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
Vit'ganga - Battle of Wits