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.
Well, good news and bad news. Good news: I finished this mighty chapter. Bad news: I split it when I saw that it had climbed up into the 20s for pages. So. CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP. Good news: I can update in 5 days thanks to this~!
Thank you to all those who are hanging in there~! When I read your reviews, I do feel so encouraged to keep hacking at this thing! Thanks to: Angelicus Demon , Chiharu-Angel, Extra-Loki, Zippy Zany, Guest, Winter Cicada, InsolentKatt, DragonsFlame117, wbss21, ArtistAtPlay.
THANKS EVERYONE!
Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]
Chapter 60
Consequences II
At the prince's panicked call, the two guards on duty at the main doors as well as the other four stationed at the two side passages came running into the silent Vault, spears and swords at the ready. When their initial glances about the room revealed no obvious threat, immediately they focused upon the fallen king who lay back upon the steps – still, unmoving.
Without further word, the two head guards rushed forward, barking orders for Healers, mages, General Tyr, the High Councillor Margyspeksson and, most importantly, the Queen. Sharply commanded by their superior officer, Commander Freyki, two of the soldiers disappeared to raise the alarm while the other two wrenched the prince away from the side of the king.
Scowling, Guardsman Oster left the side of Freyki and the King to approach the wild-eyed, now increasingly annoyed and agitated young Prince. Young, adopted Prince, Loki thought, his gut turning over unpleasantly as his awkwardly suspicious position became more apparent to him by the minute. The adopted Prince, who was shouting at his father in a highly emotional argument – after the exile of the favoured Crown Prince no less... Loki sighed. I would be suspicious too. Still... must it always end this way?
"You were arguing with the All-Father," Guardsman Oster gave Loki a hard look.
'Obviously' – that was what Loki wished he could say, voice thick with sarcasm and all, but knowing that his position was tenuous at best, the prince held his tongue.
"Yes." Loki took a deep breath, calmed himself down as best he could before replying further. "We have argued before – as anyone would know – and this... this was no different – except for how it ended. I think – I think this is the fabled Odinsleep-"
"Your opinions are unnecessary. Just the facts-"
"It is a fact," Loki replied testily. "He has long been overdue if one were to believe-"
"We shall see-"
"Concerning matters such as these, I know I am in the right-"
Before Loki could press his case any further, Frigga burst into the Vault, her evening gown's train fluttering behind her as she ran down the stairs, unceremoniously pushing the guards away. Behind her, Healers and mages appeared, pallet and medicines in hand, looking more anxious than usual.
"Beloved..." She whispered, leaning over Odin, her right hand stroking his white hair, combing it neatly back before trailing over the All-Father's lips, chest and heart. The golden-haired queen raised her eyes to meet Commander Freyki's questioning gaze. "He but sleeps. The Odinsleep. It has been long overdue and – Loki?"
Realizing Loki was also present, Frigga rose, frowning. Loki lifted his chin, prepared for a scolding or harsh reprimand – or perhaps a denunciation, whispered that ever doubting dark voice within him.
"Loki! What – what are you doing here?" Then, realizing how stiff the guards looked, gauntlets gripping the slender Prince just above the elbows. "Commander? What is the meaning – oh... by the Norns... never mind. I can guess," Frigga sighed and shook her head, looking indulgently put upon as she usually did when she discovered 'her boys' arguing behind her back again. "We will discuss it later. First, we must ensure your father is made comfortable. Come-"
"Your Highness," Guardsman Oster stepped forward, beetle eyebrows knitting together. "We heard raised voices within the Vault-"
"They were arguing? You two were arguing! Again!" Frigga shook her head.
"We believe-"
"It is nothing new," Frigga raised a delicate eyebrow and gave the old guard a look. "As you know it was their habit to clash every now and then. My husband, your King, and my son disagreed on many topics at various times. I will talk with Loki later and plumb the heart of it."
"But, your Highnesss-"
"We will talk." Frigga repeated, voice now positively glacial and slow with emphasis. "Later."
With that, Frigga turned on her heel, a quick glance back signifying that Loki follow. With a triumphant (if annoyed) look, Loki jerked himself out of the now unresistant grasp of the guards and trailed in the wake of the long line of Healers who had efficiently, carefully and respectfully moved the king onto a soft pallet and were now carrying the sleeping Aesir out of the Vault.
En masse, they headed to the King's personal Healing Room and within fifteen minutes had arrived and installed the king on the usual bed used for such times as the Odinsleep. Lingering on the edges of the solemnly quiet crowd bustling about the bespelled monarch, Loki watched as Frigga ensured the comfort of her husband. After a good half an hour of tidying up the room, checking with the staff for the work schedule and ordering dinner, Frigga shooed everyone out of the room, the better for her to watch over her husband in peace.
Feeling more useless than ever and shoving down rising flashes of guilt, Loki slipped away after promising to join her for dinner. Leaving the dimly lit healing chamber, the young warrior mage looked about in surprise. Somehow, it was already evening. So much has happened today... in so little time... Was it not this morning that we all rose to celebrate Thor's ascent to the throne? So hard to believe that my trick worked as planned – Thor's coronation was halted – but then, before I knew it, we were off to Jotunheim and starting a war. A war that none wished for – except for the one now gone. Thor will be so angry, wherever he is. Angry and, no doubt, wanting to get back as soon as possible to join the war effort.
Loki closed his eyes, for a second, his dark eyebrows wrinkling his pale brow as anxiety washed over him yet again.
And he must not return, if for no other reason than to give the Nine Realms a rest from his thoughtless warmongering. With a sigh, Loki continued onward, aimless drifting like a dark ghost through the halls. His armour, still scuffed and dusty from the battle on Jotunheim, felt stiff against his back and a little damp, yet the prince paid no heed as his feet carried him through the grand halls.
A war Asgard cannot afford to lose – and never more than before is in danger, thanks to the Odinsleep. Untimely, untimely... and something entirely unforeseen. Who will the Royal Court and the Mage's Council look to now that Thor is gone and Odin fast asleep...
Through the airy hallways and winding passages, Loki paced, deep in thought, wending his way about the palace and then out and down and then upwards again and over until he found himself, inexplicably before the stables. It smelled, as ever, pungent and earthly and green and alive.
So alive, Loki mused, barely giving the pigsty and compost heap which he had so long ago – not so long ago – used to shovel under the burning heat of the sun. What Asgard stands for, what Asgard promises – life. Life and hope. Now, that very life which I embraced is now threatened. Threatened by war. Threatened by war which Thor started – which Thor started because of something I held true to... because of me.
Wandering into the stables, Loki noted how quiet it was. There was only the buzzing of flies, the contented sound of pigs and horses munching on their slops and oats and hay. The shifting of hooves upon the strewn straw underfoot. Not so far away, Loki could hear the familiar call of the local geese, the clucking of the hens in the royal coop, and further away, the distant lowing of the cattle out in pasture. Overhead, swallows swooped in and out of the bard, calling to each other. Looking upward, watching their swift flight, Loki made his way over to a familiar stack of hay bales, neatly tied with the farmers' twine. There was a rake propped up against it, which he moved to the side, swivelling it about absent-mindedly noticing the well-carved steel of the prongs each gleaming and engraved with runes for safekeeping, for productivity and for the blessing of the soil. A product of Fellbjorg, the mining town in the southern reaches of the mountains. A familiar tool which had bruised and rubbed his hands raw long ago.
With that memory in mind, Loki took a seat, leaned back and remembered simpler days. Days when the least trouble he caused was pulling a prank on one of the other stable boys or tracking mud over Mistress Kyrra's newly mopped wood floors.
Those were simpler times, Loki sighed. Not days such as these. What are you going to do, Loki? What can you do?
Nothing, was the obvious reply. You are no Odin, nor a Thor. No one would think to place you on the throne. The best you can do is support your mother and give advice when needed.
Yet... yet surely there is something else that can be done. Some peace brokered, some treaty made. Some way to assuage the Giants... or at the very least remove their threat from Asgard. Some way to prove to Odin that he did not make a mistake bringing you into Asgard, into the family-
Impossible, the darker side of Loki hissed. He will never admit it – neither his care for your, nor his fears. Odin is one not to be trusted, for his heart will remain, as always, shadowed.
Regardless, Loki shook his head in vain attempt to ignore his deepest fears, Asgard's welfare is most important. Thor cannot return, that much is clear, but his followers – the Warriors Three and Sif – no doubt they will not rest until they find a way for the Prince to return.
And what would the harm be in that? Thor, returning, would lead Asgard to glorious battle and Asgard could no doubt win the day against Jotunheim, being as it is... In bringing him back, you would be a hero of some sort.
And forever meld – fall – disappear – within the shadow of his greatness...
No. No. NO. Loki groaned and leaned forward, mashing his palms against his eyes in frustration. Think. Think! THINK! What can be done?
What can be done...
With those thoughts heavy on his mind, weighing on his shoulders, the warrior mage rose and quietly made his way back to the palace.
At the very least, he thought, I must be there for Mother.
That, he could hold onto. All of his plans, all of his worries, he had a feeling, would be dealt with in one way or another.
Sometimes, the best thing to do, Loki mused, is wait.
[...sometimes...]
Jotunheim lay hushed. Tense as a jarnkottr, muscle gathered up and quivering, before the jump, before the final catching of the prey, Jotunheim prepared itself. Jotunheim waited.
Laufey quickly made his way back to Gastropnir, knowing that his return to Utgard as soon as may be was crucial. Couriers, along the way, were sent off to all the nearby towns and villages and the further cities. Making his way through the Grarfjall Mountains, Laufey made mental lists – lists for armaments, supplies, conscription meetings, consultations and other councils needed.
Upon entering Gastropnir, Laufey was pleased to find that already several of the called generals were also arriving, allowing for them to draw up swift plans for the various plans and strategies already firmly in place. Unable to linger with Farbauti and Byleistr, Laufey gave each a quick embrace before continuing onto the war councils, drawing his family with him.
To the side, Helblindi, Byleistr and Farbauti sat, taking notes and making their own lists. Helblindi was to join with General Yppa, heading eastward toward Thrymheim, where they would hopefully meet the army amassing before the Kaldrfjall Mountains, supplied by the further villages and the small cities of Vatnboer and Snjarhamr. Byleistr was to stay in Gastropnir with Farbauti, acting as a coordinator of sorts as Laufey was to return to Utgard as soon as may be, the better to fortify the crumbling citadel and hearten the remaining army there.
Already, the announcement for war had rung out from the deep, bell-like voices of the towncriers. Already, the air was filled with the clang of iron meeting iron as the fires of the smithies were once again started with renewed energy to feed the flames of war now lit in the heart of the Frost Giants. Already, the weapon vaults were opened up again, rescuing, counting, sharpening, mending and cleaning what could be scavenged from the ancient war.
Food and clothing and leather and metals were brought forward, scavenged from the land and from the hoards of those more blessed than others. Traders from the North, bearing the rare heillgrjot, were sent back to get more, this time with a few armed guards to aid them in their quest. Hunters brought forward their bone and their rare metals which they found in the far Thokafjall Moutains, as well as other rare herbs – hota-eik brew, luthrblom, and other such rarities.
The Dwarves and Dark Elves who visited the Realm were brought also with all speed and courtesy further inland, the better to speak with the King's representatives regarding any new information on Asgard's armaments and towers and defences. Light Elfling Lords from Alfheim and others nobles from Vanaheim arrived also, asking if a truce could be reached, but Laufey-King gave none of those entrance to Jotunheim beyond Snjarhamr and none were given audience.
Jotunheim was readying itself for the last war. The war, Laufey thought, to end all wars. If we die, let it not be meekly as a snjarharra within the jaws of a grarulfr. If we must meet our Doom, we shall meet it in glorious battle, triumphant and bold as fire.
Thus, Laufey left for Utgard, leaving behind an energized people, all fiercely gazing toward the West, to the Eybjarg, to the place of their hopes, to the place of the Doom. With a small army at his back to augment what was now gathered at Utgard, Laufey left, refusing to look back at Byleistr and Farbauti who stood upon the ramparts of Gastropnir and looked out silently at the stream of Jotunn now pounding their way westward.
Laufey left with an army, with provisions, with a long (slower), winding caravan filled with weapons and armour, such as what the Jotunn would bear in times of war. At Laufey's side, the generals rode, each bearing their own abilities long honed before in the War. Generals and a few Dark Elves seithrmasters beside. Behind Laufey, a small box sat – an ironwood box, within which laid finely wrought Dwarven shackles, etched with runes and Elvish magicks – his readiness for the Doom of Jotunheim, for that abomination...
Whether Asgard returned – or the vaetki, Laufey was ready.
[...Jotunheim lay hushed...]
[...ready...]
[...ever ready, it waited...]
[...sometimes the best thing one can do is wait...]
Four days had passed and Loki found himself as yet unable to approach his mother, unable to find a moments peace or rest at his father's side, for the war effort was now well underway. The Royal Court and Mage's Council, as Loki had guessed, called for a meeting the very evening Odin fell into his fabled Sleep. It had already been planned – already had been set up by Odin All-Father himself. Thor and Loki would have been there at his side, should have been there, Loki corrected himself, as he sat down at the left hand of the now empty head of the table. The prince's sharp chin rose and his green eyes challenged any who dared question his uncertain position there, knowing as well as he did that whispers already ran about the palace and city like wildfire, spreading ugly rumours that it was he who had put Odin into the infamous Odinsleep.
Fools, Loki sniffed, but underneath his calm facade, the young Prince shivered. Like a herd of sheep, the masses follow a single voice, often without a second thought. Without Thor, many lack confidence – but is only what I expected, after all. In truth, it would better our condition by far if we could all just focus on what needs to be accomplished. Things are different now. If we are to survive this... we will have to work together.
Working together – that was the nub of the issue, for Loki could tell that already the war-hardened warriors (more of Thor's ilk) were headstrong and less prone to listen to the ideas and strategies of the soft-spoken mages. High Councillors Stafyn and Margyspeksson spoke the loudest and were heard the most often. No matter what Loki attempted to say, more often than not, the young prince found his opinions and thoughts overruled by a louder voice than his. The next four days passed by, painfully slow, filled as they were with hours of wrangling and arguing and nit-picking over what Loki felt to be increasingly unimportant details.
More often than not, Loki emerged from the council chambers, face blushed red from his own hollering. In the end, he snorted, green cloak snapping behind him in irritation as he stormed away to ensure that the smithies and suppliers were on time with their deliveries, in the end we are no better than children, squabbling for those ephemeral positions of power. Passing by the King's main court chamber, the great hall which could open to large proportions if need be, Loki stopped to stand in the grandly carved doorway – to stare down the long red carpet and single file row of guards still standing at the ready. Standing at the ready despite the fact the throne is still empty, Loki shook his head. Ephemeral positions of power... maybe so... maybe not... either way... I can understand why they must quarrel and fight. It is the nature of all creatures... and yet, and yet...
It bodes Asgard ill on the brink of war.
This is not what Asgard needs.
I got rid of Thor, only to get a hoard of older, more powerful, more headstrong warriors. Loki sighed in frustration. Perhaps getting Thor back would not be so bad of an idea. At least then I would just have to get him to agree to some of my ideas and everyone would listen to him and do what he said – without quarrelling...
If he could listen to me...
If only he could listen...
Loki turned away, quickly making his way to the Storerooms. After a fruitful talk with the Storeroom Keepers (for the third time in a row that day), Loki discovered that it was already dinner time. Usually, there was another meeting to be had, but for the first time in the week, Loki found himself free to take dinner elsewhere. At that realization, the young prince ran across to Odin's Healing Room. Slowing down at the sight of the familiar entrance, Loki smoothed back his hair, drew off his cloak and nodded at the guards who opened the doors smoothly.
It was a dim place. A quiet place. Serene and calm. Perfect for the Odin All-Father. Although, if the tales be true, Loki frowned, he must be anything but calm. If he can see all. If he can hear all even now... What would he say to me if he knew that I can barely make myself be heard at council? Disappointing, I suppose.
-0-0-0-
At the sound of the door opening, Frigga's head rose from her needlework (a new hat for Thor's next feast day). With a gusty sigh, Loki appeared and descended the steps, looking rather upset. Frigga, catching sight of him, laid aside her needlework and rose, arms held out, drawing her youngest into a firm embrace. Kissing him on the cheek, the Queen squeezed the slender frame of her son again, this time a bit tighter, speaking of her inner anxiety and worries. Then, drawing back, Frigga took stock of her son and shook her head.
He looks as though the world was lying on his shoulders – and in a way, it is – now that Thor is gone and Odin is Sleeping. Responsibility unlooked for lies heavily on one... but then... Frigga remembered the many visions of the many possibilities that lay before them all. But then, this had always been possible... a possibility none would wish to prepare for...
"You look fatigued. Another terrible Council meeting?"
"Are not all Council meetings terrible?"
"War councils in particular are," Frigga shook her head. "Your father did not, after all, emerge from his mother's womb with his current lung capacity. He always told me that he felt that war councils were more like a fishwife's market than anything else."
"Fishwives?" Loki smirked. "I can see that."
"Although," Frigga gave her son a look. "I think fishwives would get more done if allowed to have any say in the matter."
"That, I believe."
More tired and annoyed than usual, Frigga noted, her eyebrows knitting together in worry.
"Do I need to step in?"
"I do not know, Mother." Loki glanced about the room and shrugged. "In all honesty, I do not know what you could achieve – unless you can somehow place a trance over Councillor Margyspeksson and get him to see reason."
"Oh, by the Norns, that man!" Margyspeksson rose to Frigga's mind as she considered the tall, brawny, blonde-haired, grey-eyed and grey-bearded warrior most famous for his swordsmanship, brawling and beer-drinking. "Well, I should say – men! High Mage Agaeti and Flarathir are never any better."
"At least, High Mage Agaeti is a proponent of peace," Loki sighed. "I still say that we should wait until our ambassadors return from Vanaheim."
"Ambassadors?"
"Yes, we handpicked a few of the nobles – and sent Fandral and Hogun with them, since they have been to that Realm often."
"Hogun's family resides there, if I remember rightly," Frigga mused. "I was certain I heard of a certain handmaiden being pledged to his hand in marriage awhile a go."
"Two and a half centuries ago, Mother," Loki replied indulgently, patting her hand. "At any rate, they left to see if it was possible to broker peace with the Jotunn through the Vanir – or the Elves. If the answer is no, we can make our plans more securely. Better to look defensive than aggressive, I always say."
"Hm."
The two took their seats together, Frigga drawing Loki protectively close, her arm twining in his as they sat and watched Odin's chest rise and fall peacefully. Odin always said that the Odinsleep was something so beautiful yet sad – being in but not of the world – everywhere and nowhere at once. Seeing everything, yet unable to do anything.
"How long?"
"How long?" Loki blinked.
"How long until they return?"
"Tomorrow," Loki huffed then. "It is not as if I am asking them to wait a week, much less a month! No patience, I tell you."
"Indeed," Frigga's lips thinned. "I would have thought that they would wish for a chance to make peace before rushing off to their combined deaths. I see that I am quite wrong."
"Flarathir is not helping matters in any case... what with his ever inflammatory language..."
"He wants to go to war as well?"
"Maybe?" The young warrior mage sighed then. "He wishes for Thor's return – and then war. They all do, really. Everyone seems to be chafing at the bit, expecting it to be some easy conquest during which they will be all decorated in gold for their pains and reaping the rewards of the spoils taken – although what spoils there are to be had in Jotunheim is beyond me." A pause and then, Loki added: "So, in a sense, I suppose, Thor would ensure all that, were he here. Everyone knows that he would take joy in finishing Father's work on Jotunheim."
"Heimdall would countermand Odin's order and bring back Thor?" frowned Frigga as she ran through the various options in her mind.
"I know not," Loki shook his head and glanced away. "Heimdall has thus far held to All-Father's - and your - decision... but I could see him bending the rules. If not, some other foolish mage could try to summon him with powerful magicks or dark energy. There was mention of several lost magickal articles... the Tesseract would have been able to return him easily enough – but, as Flarathir pointed out, there has been no sign of it since the Lengi Ofrithr."
"Foolishness," Frigga said crisply. "If our need is great, I will have Heimdall seek him out and we will send one of the Warriors Three down to locate and bring him back. Until then, let us not waste our time considering such matters."
"That is what Councillor Stafyn said. Something about not weeping over spilt milk... but it is hard to say whether he says it out of pragmatism or because he is happy to be in charge while Father and Thor are gone."
"You are there, dear," Frigga drew her son again in a close sideways embrace.
"Well, I am there," Loki hung his head and glared at his entwined hands, "but these days I feel as though I might as well not be..." A pause. "Never mind that. How is... Father?"
Frigga did not respond right away. Instead, she stared at the wide, golden engraved bed before her, piled with furs, enclosing the King. Like a small dome, a wavering, translucent shield rose – a common trait for the Odinsleep, usually extending about the King to stabilize the powers building within. Odin is somewhere in Asgard or out there amongst the Nine Realms or even with Thor on Midgard – or here, Frigga thought wistfully. I wish he could wake now – now while we the chance to breath and plan. How sorely we all miss him...
Here Frigga glanced at her youngest and sighed. Of course, Loki wishes to be strong. He always feared being weak, or seeming to be weak at least... Still, he cannot bear the burden of our country alone. It is never good for anyone to bear such things without another at their side.
Frigga remembered all those times Odin had returned to her side, to their shared bedchambers, to the fireplace – and sitting there, at her side or at her feet, the monarch had grieved. He had grieved the death of his brothers, his hands shook within hers the night before his coronation and when he had drunk from the Well, Odin had shared a few of the things he had seen. It was forbidden among some circles to speak of such sacred things, but Odin knew, as few did in Asgard, how wise and far-seeing his wife was – and so he had spoken and so she had listened.
As I listen now. As I should have listened years earlier, Frigga closed her eyes, recalling her eldest. I should have realized... I should have realized... She thought of Loki at her side. The one who no doubt had some hand to play in this as well... and who, even now, works to make it right.
"He is doing well," Frigga sighed. "All things considered... as well as may be at any rate."
"How long will it last?" Loki asked curiously.
"It depends." A pause. "It depends."
"The last time it only took a day..."
"Yes," Frigga nodded. "If he takes the time to do it more regularly, your Father need only spend a short time within the Odinsleep. Yet, this time... I do not know... This time is different. We were unprepared."
Frigga battled back tears, her hand now seeking out and finding Loki's, squeezing it gently.
"We must hope," Loki finally said softly. "He will wake. We can feel his spirit stirring and the seithr – the magick – in this place beats with life... Although, I will allow that it is unsettling to see him lying like this."
"This is your first time after all," agreed Frigga.
"The most powerful being in the Nine Realms lying helpless until his body is restored... Amazing... and terrifying..."
"He put it off for so long though... I fear..." Frigga found her handkerchief and wiped her eyes.
"Mother," Loki drew his mother in for another tight embrace.
Frigga welcomed it, taking in the faint scent of sweat, leather, horse, manure and the faint traces of ink. A sure sign he has been wandering deep in thought - and worrying... again. For a moment, they sat there in silence and Frigga thought of the first day she had seen the young man now protectively cradling her. A broken creature, never to be fixed again, Odin had said. A useful man, he had also thought, perfect for the role of adviser to Thor and deserving of a second chance. All I saw was a young child needing a mother. Today, perhaps, he can be the bastion of strength and intelligence against the oncoming storm... Loki...
Drawing back, blue eyes still watering, Frigga nodded with a small smile and whispered. 'You are a good son."
For a moment, there was no response from her poker-faced son. His still face revealed nothing until his lips curved upward in a forced smile, his tired, now darker green eyes rising to meet hers full of doubt and worry as well.
"You said it yourself, Loki. We must not lose hope..." Frigga turned to look at her sleeping husband and thought of her other exiled child, far away, now, from home. "Your father will return to us... and your brother."
Loki stiffened then, the muscles of his shoulder bunching reflexively at the mention of his brother's name.
"Thor?" He said finally, voice rising a little in disbelief. "How long have we warned him? How long have I attempted to hold him back? How long have his tutors lectured him? How long did the Mages talk with him? How long did the Councillors counsel him? How far did the sight of the Well send him? If he cannot learn from any of these... what hope is there for Thor now?"
"Oh, Loki! There is always a purpose to everything your father does. Thor may yet find a way home."
Loki's hand fell away from her shoulder then as he hunched forward to glare at the ground.
"He always has a purpose."
A meaningful pause.
"A purpose behind everything," Loki continued on. "I thought I knew what it was – I, who fear being used and cast aside like a wretched ignorant pawn. To reign in Thor's worse impulses and gave him counsel when need be. In time, to stand at his side and guide him in his rule... but Odin has purposes."
Loki raised his head to rivet his gaze on the white-haired king now lying before him, the view shimmering with gold and the dim glow of the wall lamps flickering about the room.
"He has purposes for me, does he not? Below the truths he fed me – below the – the – lies-"
"Loki!" Frigga took the dark-haired young man's hand then and shook it emphatically. "That – that is not true!"
"Is it not?" The muscle in Loki's jaw jumped as the tension thrummed through his entire body. "Is it not?"
"This is what you spoke of, then. In the Vault. I had been meaning to talk to you, but you have been much to busy-"
"He saw it. He knew. He knew! You both knew – and hid that from me. Why? To manipulate me into becoming your puppet king for Jotunheim, to be that foil for Thor that he might shine ever more brilliantly?"
"No, dear heart," Frigga leaned forward, her hand still holding onto Loki's tightly. "Dearest. I asked him to be honest with you from the beginning. There should be no secrets in a family."
"So you perpetuated a lie."
"Is it a lie, Loki? This visage you wear or the one beneath or any form you choose... perhaps for Loki Odinsson, there is no lie, for each one is but part of a larger truth. That larger truth I can still accept, whatever shape it takes."
"Why did you not tell me then at the beginning?"
"Odin... Your father..." Frigga sighed then. "He was so certain of – of your fears... I told him the truth was freedom, but he thought the truth would reveal itself... in time. He kept the fact we knew your secret from you so that you would never feel different – or threatened. You already struggled, Loki, to fit into Asgardian culture without the added burden of Asgardian fears and hatred. I – We believed – believe even now – that you are in every way our son. You must know that... Loki?"
"You could have told me... and – and we could have said nothing more of it – kept it between us," Loki pointed out. "Now... now... I – I do not know..."
"Perhaps you just need to speak with him and share your heart. Even now, you can speak to your father. He can see and hear us..."
Frigga battled back her tears as she watched her youngest draw a little away, reclaiming his hand and setting his mouth into a thin hard line. His green eyes seemed to look far away and for a moment, Frigga feared that Loki would disappear somewhere and never return.
Loki... dear heart... She pleaded, afraid to press her affections any further upon him, knowing that his suspicions, now being raised, would cause him to shy away from any perceived suffocation. Do not throw away the bonds we hold dear, the ties which you even now hold so tightly to...
After a moment, the taut muscles of the warrior mage's back shifted underneath his thin leather jerkin, relaxing. Frigga found that once again he allowed her hand to creep about his shoulder drawing him close. Slumping down a little, Loki leaned into his mother's touch, heart still torn with fears and doubts, yet unwilling to let go this moment of stability. Nestled against her shoulder, the dark-haired prince stared at his father, green eyes unfathomable.
Unfathomable Loki... and what does he see himself as? A power Odin wished to wield for the good of our people, for the betterment of Thor, Frigga thought, but this is no sword that is swung or bow that is bent indiscriminately. This is Loki. This is my son. He must see that. Must know it.
"What do you think he sees?" Loki wondered.
[...he sees all...]
[...he sees...]
[...a bare, sandy desert...]
[...a dry wasteland...]
[...twilight...]
[...an evening falling...]
[...alien stars spread across a night sky...]
[...winds whip up around a metal vehicle jouncing across uneven ground...]
[...a flash...]
[...a world is changed...]
[...worlds change...]
[...Fate changes...]
The next morning, Loki rose from his bed at the crack of dawn, quickly washed himself down, drew on his second best set of Court garments and ate a quick quiet meal in his chambers while reading a short treatise on shape-shifting magicks from a distant planet, Kha'ahli 89B. As he stepped out into the quiet hallway, the young prince braced himself for a long day of meetings and councils – only to find, upon arrival at the main war council room, Frigga at the head of the table within Odin's seat.
Carrying out the minutes with gravity, Frigga made short work of discussing what had been achieved in the past few days and was assured that the war effort was going forth smoothly before rising to excuse herself. With a short word to the table of warriors and mages, Frigga encouraged them all in the good work they had achieved so far.
"Odin All-Father, although he sleeps, watches all," she smiled kindly, letting her sharp, wise blue eyes wander about the room, "and I am certain his heart swells in pride at the sight of your combined efforts, your cooperation to safeguard Asgard. My son, Thor, is not here with us – and his presence is missed greatly by many of you, I know. However, I leave in charge Loki, whom I trust implicitly and in whom the All-Father himself has seen great wisdom, despite his youth and relative inexperience. Treat him as you would treat me."
A pause followed, allowing the hinted warning to sink in before continuing further.
"I am sure that in listening to each other and, taking counsel, even from the most surprising of places, Asgard may yet win the day."
Then, the Queen turned to her son and gave him a look, a bright look, a gleaming look which glimmered like the sun upon Asgarthaharr. Loki froze, unable to turn his eyes downward nor to the side, knowing that the others about the table had fastened their intense gazes upon him as well.
"Loki, Thor is banished – and so, whether you will or no, the responsibility lies upon you to be my voice of reason within the following meetings and preparations. Do you understand?"
Loki nodded slowly, green eyes wide. As the weight of what this all entailed slowly made itself felt within the quiet room.
"Until Odin awakens, Asgard is under your safekeeping." Frigga laid a hand on his shoulder, but Loki barely felt it as her voice carried on in soft encouragement. "Make your father proud."
With that, the Queen exited the room, leaving the war chamber in deafening silence.
Make your father proud...
After a moment, there was a shuffling of paper further down the table from the Mage's side and someone scraped his iron shod boots across the stone floor noisily as they resettled in their seats. Somewhere a raven cry ran out and the rustle of black wings cast a dim shadow briefly on the room as the bird fluttered about on the small windows' railings.
Make your father proud...
"Well, then," High Mage Agaeti nodded, giving High Councillor Stafyn a quick glance. "Prince Loki, have you had any ideas come to mind?"
A silence as all eyes turned to the dark-haired, regally garbed young prince who sat in his seat, back straight and expression still. To many there, it was an unusually solemn look for the youngster who had played pranks and gotten into trouble with Thor time and time again.
Make your father proud...
Loki stirred. He nodded slowly, turning to look at High Councillor Stafyn squarely.
"I do... have a few ideas..." Loki said carefully. "It is something I am concerned with more and more often as we deal with the minutiae before us – the risk we have of losing the bigger picture, particularly taking into account the enemy before us..."
And with that, the session continued. This time, Loki thought, perhaps there is a greater chance for change. A great chance...
My chance...
[...this is the time...]
[...when one comes into his own...]
[...when one stands tall...]
[...stands proud...]
Well, I hope this is sounding interesting... let me know what you think~ I do appreciate concrit! Thanks to some of you, I've thought twice about some things and added other stuff to maintain quality! Also thanks to zippy zany who pointed out a spelling mistake last time! I appreciated that!
Feel free to give me a shout!
An update is coming in four days or so~!
-KI
Alien Glossary:
'auzha – fucker
chi'iano – a radioactive piece of rock similar to uranium
cho'ai - lover
Dou'ma – idiot
iz'kyr – a kind of frozen stone powder which is used as a narcotic for some species
kalo – a kind of purple-red fruit, similar to a pomegranate or dragonfruit
kol-sava'atha – a titanium-rich ore
Morning-star - a mace
n'ch'nka – a kind of cow
oma'auzha – mother-effer
oto'oa - big sister
r'senk'ne – a kind of deer/cow hybrid
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
Haugbui Bustathr – the Shrine of the Kings
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)
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