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, now I'm looking back at what I've written... how far we have gotten to this point. This roller-coaster of story is still forging onwards, somehow. I know that more than a few passengers have since then disembarked, but I am always hoping that new fans will get on this ride and have fun with what I'm doing. Of course, I'm aware that no author can please everyone and in the end it is better to write something that pleases oneself, still, I do find encouragement from hearing from folks who let me know there's an audience who cares. Fanfiction is a wonderful art which I enjoy participating in - being a reader and writer - and the power of it lies within the fact that is made for free. So much time and energy is spent on these stories of ours, because of our fervour for the fandoms. So, while I know that it's embarrassing on some level to be caught writing fanfic (most of my fam don't approve), it is something I am proud and happy to be a part of.
The Loki fandom, something I am relatively new to, has been - continues to be - so vital and energetic. Although the factions are many and the drama on Tumblr can get scary, I am glad to continue forging onward with the fandom and enjoy what we are all creating in our own spheres. That being said, once again, I send out a huge thanks to those people who stoke the fire already within me, for those who faithfully encourage and support me even if things are freaking them out or setting them on the edge of their seats: InsolentKatt, cecld16, zippy zany, wbss21, Chiharu-angel, SNKoolAid (welcome on board)~~~!
I hope you enjoy this new installment of ANGST!
GET OUT THOSE HANKIES!
Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]
Chapter 62
Free-Falling II
[...those prepare who must...]
[...the great and the small...]
[...for the fulfilment of prophecy...]
[...and what must be...]
[...must come to pass...]
Loki's eyes fluttered open, his blurred vision slowly coming into focus, revealing a world of deep blues and blacks and dull greys and sharp whites. A vista of stars – of nebula and distant suns and clusters of other radiating objects – juxtaposed against the all too familiar, stark landscape of his native world. Jotunheim.
Inhale.
Cold sharp air brought on a brisk wind. Nothing else stirred and under the weight of the silence, Loki found himself unable to move. Unable to rise and meet the sight of what remained of the icy Realm.
Exhale.
The cloud of his breath rose before him and dissipated within seconds. The exile prince ached all over – and the cold was not helping. Loki shivered as the force of the freezing temperatures began to set in, stabbing like sharp knives through the thin material of his leather jerkin and wool.
Inhale.
I have to move, he thought, I have to move. Surely someone will come along... and if I am caught in this state... It did not bear thinking upon. Forcing himself to his feet, Loki rose up and looked about him, staggering a little as he gained firmer footing with his unsteady balance on the uneven, sloping ground.
Exhale.
Just keep breathing, Loki told himself. Keep breathing. The dizziness should pass.
He hoped.
With that thought kept firmly in mind, the Jotunn slowly moved forward, catching his breath and forcing from him a sharp grunt of pain as he made his way down the small hillock of snow to the flatter plain below. Looking around him, Loki tried to find his bearings. There were pieces of wall about and the remains of a wide, stone road, filled with potholes and cracks, which curved inward from the edge of the cliffs to what looked to be a part of a city. Raising his eyes and focusing on the distant towers, Loki recognized the south-western portions of Utgard.
Utangard, Citadel of the Pale Moon.
Entirely reshaped – and missing a large chunk of its westernmost quarters to such an extent that the cliff faces of the Innaheim were entirely remade. Far, far in the distance, he could see that the natural wooded land bridge which had connected the Utanheim to the Innaheim, usually a black-brown smudge on the horizon, had disappeared entirely. Loki shuddered as he turned about in his place, taking in the newly gouged pieces of cliff-side to the south as well, which fell away to the fathomless depths of the Eybjarg. Wincing a little, Loki's wandered across the widened chasm, mentally attempting to measure the new width of the Eybjarg. It was emptier now of its little islands of land which had clung onto lower portions of the larger continent. On the far side of the chasm, the Utanheim, Loki guessed that it too had been partially obliterated. Hluti's little cabin was no doubt gone. The Prince shivered. The Eybjarg, emptier, looked larger and even more ominous.
As ominous as the silence of the wind and the stillness of the land. Only the distant rumblings of buildings in the distance and the occasional shuddering of ice and rock bore testament to what had happened here only an hour or so previously.
Loki sighed but there was nothing to say and no one to say it to at any rate. At least, he thought, they do not know that I was responsible... yet. Allowing his white skin to transform to his more natural colour of blue, the Jotunn warrior-mage picked his way carefully across the sheets of snow and ice, keeping a wary eye out for thin, crumbling ground.
By the time he found his way to the closest wall of what could have been a storehouse, Loki felt more fatigued than he would usually. It is, I suppose, the lack of magick... A long time has passed since I have undergone such magickal binding. Propping himself against a fairly stable piece of stone, Loki leaned back, resting his head, chin raised, and trying to keep his mind clear. Where to go. Where to go. Where to go where to go where to go.
His mind was blank, running through all the options available to him. Should I stay? Should I go? If I leave Jotunheim, would I be able to fulfil my father's requirements to regain my magick? Probably not. Rubbing his hands over his face, Loki sighed again and then froze at the sound of a low rumbling chuckle.
"Well, well, well. Is it the Jotunn vaetki or do my eyes deceive me?"
"I am no illusion," Loki stiffened and nonchalantly attempted to step away from the wall, but already his legs were starting to buckle from his bone-deep exhaustion, "but fear no trouble, for I will be on my way soon enough."
"Hm," the Jotun rounded the wall then to look down at the runtling before him. "Not soon enough according to the King." A pause and then, the tall, broad-shouldered, squat Jotun added darkly: "He has been waiting for you."
Loki began to edge back, but his foot caught on a rock and as he stumbled, swaying to regain his balance, rough Jotun hands swooped down to grab him by the shoulder. Fingers wrapped firmly about the prince's legs, immobilizing him, and lifted Loki up and away from the ground. The giant's left hand gripped Loki close, while his right shifted upward to constrain the warrior-mage's hands.
"Let – let me down! I can – I can walk!" Loki struggled, summoning his knife and attempting to hack at the giant's wrist. To no avail, for his arms were unable move and the odd bronzed bracers attached to the guard's forearms blocked any other sort of attack.
"Ahhh... the creature believes it has honour and courage-"
"What – what is that supposed to mean?" snapped Loki. "I am the son of Laufey-King himself and as such I deserve some respect-"
"The only thing you deserve," was the responding calm words, "is the mercy of death and the chance to join your august forebears. If you had been dashed against the rocks as a babe, I doubt we would have all those troubles which plague Jotunheim to this day. A living curse, a poison which must be purged."
At those words, Loki's struggles increased, but exhaustion all too quickly set in and before long, the pain in his chest, his arms and legs overcame him. Hanging limply in the firm grasp of the giant, Loki fell back against the Jotun's chest and drifted off in a haze of misery, shivering from cold and general aches. Some time later – it felt like forever – the two arrived in the heart of Utgard, which appeared, to Loki who blankly watched over the Jotun's firm fists, more busy and frenetic than usual.
As they moved past, Loki caught sight of children peering out of windows, clearly disallowed from running about outside, jarnkottr corralled behind stone fences and within ice stables, youths sewing and running errands and carrying armour and stacks of jarnvithr and warriors sharpening blades and practising drills and summoning ice and otherwise preparing for war. Fires burned in corners, murky and faint in the fog, and Loki could have sworn he saw, bent over a few forges, the short figures of Dwarves or the lithe frames of the Dark Elves.
Utgard had come alive.
Before he could gather his wits to ask the guard what was happening, Loki remembered, with a sick thud in his stomach, that to Jotunheim, no doubt, they were still at war, devastation or no. Perhaps the destruction had filled the giants with even more resolve. Loki licked his lips, but before he could say anything, the guard strode into the courtyard of the King's Hall and then moved up the stairs to confront the guard. At the sight of the short Jotun within his grasp, the guards nodded, opened the hall doors and ushered the guardsmen in.
Upon arriving in the hall, a wave of whispers arose before suddenly falling silent. Loki craning his head back, managed to get a glimpse of freshly pressed banners, newly slatted window shutters, polished stone and fresh ice. In front of him, Laufey sat, face inscrutable, waiting as the guard had promised. At his side, Helblindi sat, back stiff and straight as a ramrod, eyes staring at Loki with unblinking intensity.
Then, without warning, the guard bowed, taking to one knee before casting the runtling down on the ground. Hissing and biting back a groan, Loki found himself tumbling across the floor, landing more or less face down. There was a telling silence as painfully forced himself to rise to his feet. Loki felt that it took to long to get there and when he finally found his balance and looked upward, his stomach plummeted further at the sight of Laufey's cold face.
Never welcomed anywhere, I suppose, Loki coughed a little, running his hands back through his hair, attempting to try to neaten his no doubt disarrayed appearance. He was wearing his usual light hunting clothes – the long tailed jacket, the knee-high leather boots, the tight leather breeches he favoured with the short, light chain mail underneath, and over it all a green tunic and another light-weight leather jerkin. All of it in muted greens and golds. Hardly fit for an audience with a King. Although, he smirked, for Jotunheim it should be acceptable.
"You have brought me a fair gift, Guardsman..." Laufey paused.
"Guardsman Skyr," said Loki's captor with another bow of the head. "I am glad to be of service to his Highness."
"And I am glad to repay such kindness with fair reward," was the smooth reply. Laufey flicked a hand and one of the well-dressed courtiers to the King's left stepped forward, a grey leather pouch in hand, no doubt filled with coins.
Accepting the gift with another bow of his head, Guardsman Skyr withdrew, leaving Loki to stand alone before his Father, the King.
"Father-"
"Long ago, I was given a gift, a chance to ensure my line," Laufey waved a hand, silencing the silvertongued trickster. "A gift, my beloved told me, and if the omens were read aright, a being of great ability. Yet, time has shown that all this creature has brought has been nothing but empty promises and certain death."
"Listen – I do not know what you heard but-"
"That you were able to worm your way as a poisonous snake into the bosom of Asgard..."
Loki fell silent, red eyes widening as his blood froze within his veins at Laufey's casual observation.
So he knew... he knew he knew he knew...
"...that is admirable – and as one who was born to cunning, I applaud you. Yet, although it would be in our best interests to nurture such a leech within the heart of our enemy, the damage you have wrought on our people, the promises you have broken and lives for which you must be held responsible – these, all these, bear testament to the unfortunate fact that alive you are nothing but a threat to the peace and health of this Realm."
"Look. I do not know what you are talking about-"
Loki felt a chill run down his spine. Surely he could not have already heard about the Bifrost.
"You stand upon the side of Asgard, do you not? Answer, beast, if you can find words to defend what you think you hold – honour."
"Asgard is my home," Loki said carefully.
"And you betrayed your kin, the ones who I placed in your care?"
"I did not kill them."
"I never said you did... you are too careful for that, I think." A pause. "He is of Asgard. So self-proclaimed, he can be nothing but a captured prisoner of war."
"Asgard is not at war with you-"
"Not at war?" Laufey leaned back. "But a few spans of time ago, the Bifrost rained down destruction upon our heads, destroying the west and southern side of Utgard, decimating the upper and lower wastelands as well as removing our nearest passage to Utanheim. Not to mention the total destruction of the remaining islands of the Eybjarg... and you say that we are not at war?"
"I came – I came on the All-Father's behest," Loki insisted. "He told me to say that they have no interest in pursuing war. Indeed, I think this most fair, considering – considering that they could use the Bifrost again in such a way and decimate Jotunheim for all time."
"Hmmm..." Laufey leaned back then. "So we must forgive them of their trespasses, forgive them of the lives of the Jotunn who fell to the Void, forgive them of their attempts at wiping out our kind..."
"Is that not the fate of those who played the game of Fate and lost?"
"A game," Laufey mused. "Is that what you see it as?" A pause and he nodded, suddenly looking amused, which was not comforting to Loki. At all. "Then, young one, I can say with certainty that now... you have lost."
Laufey jerked his chin upward and Loki suddenly turned his head – too slowly to counteract the rising butt of a spear rising and then falling.
Then there was dark.
[...darkness fell...]
[...silence fell...]
[...on Jotunheim...]
He opened his eyes. Darkness. Closed them. Darkness. He attempted to take stock of his surroundings but found himself unable to move about, restricted by unusually cramped quarters. There was nothing. There was only darkness and silence and the musty taste of dust on his tongue and the dull scent of jarnvithr wood treated in its usual reason and the rough walls which closed around him and the sound of his rising panicked breathing.
Chains clinked as he moved his arms. Moving over the shackles, his nails traced out the familiar engravings of Dwarven and Elvish runes. They are attempting to seal my magick, he shook his head in disbelief. I could have told them there was no danger... With a sigh, he set to exploring his prison, attempting to keep his fears at bay, to keep rational.
As his fingers trailed along the edges of his prison, he began to realize that he was seated, legs slightly folded, within a kind of chest or box. Not a coffin, thank the Norns, but still no less ominous. Reaching up, his left hand found the rather low ceiling. A large chest, more than likely used for clothing or potions or papers.
No. Oh no. No. No. Nonononono...
Realization sinking in, his panic increased as he groped about trying to find some way to get out.
Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out.
He needed to get out – but there was no inner catch and only a couple holes, one at his head and one at his feet, both of which were large enough for him to slip two fingers through and no more. However, the provision of air did not relieve his fears. Already he could feel the fear and darkness scrabbling at the edges of his mind like a rabid dog. The nightmares were returning.
Nightmares of stifling dark, nightmares of emptiness, nightmares of silence and falling – always falling – and the blank eyes of the stars and the empty staring of the planets and the moons watching him fall – and when he fell, there were only wolves and cold and running and running –
He was always running.
...COME...
...LITTLE ONE...
...YOU ARE SO CLOSE...
...SO CLOSE...
No. No. Nononono.
Loki's feet and arms lashed out as he yelled in protest. Not begging, he told himself as he banged on the lid of the chest and as he kicked at its sides. After several moments of frenzy, the exiled prince collapsed, feeling a little breathless and dizzy. Obviously the holes were only so big and it would not do him good to expend what little air he was given.
Thus, he lay there. Just breathing. Lay there and shut his eyes against the dark and imagined the green swathes of farmland stretching away from the east side of Asgard, of heavily scented orchards filled with red and yellow and purple and orange ripe fruit, of the scuffling of falling leaves in the autumn and the sharp, clean bite of winter spent in the mountains, roasting the haunch of a great deer over an open bonfire. Loki imagined his bedroom, probably now shut and clean and ready, waiting for his return.
If I ever return... Loki steered his mind away from the pessimistic thought. Too late. Too late. Too late.
Already he was plummeting back down -
No.
...CLOSE...
...SO DEAR TO MY HEART...
No. No. No.
Frigga laughing and singing as she sat at her weaving, as she leaned back from a hard hour's work in her private garden, as she baked her family's favourite dessert – a kind of cinnamon and dark sugar cake. Odin in his study, peering at some tomes and discussing Dark Elf politics, at the Council table looking blank-faced yet again as another warrior stood and ranted about something the mage's had done, then he glanced at Loki and gave the young prince a private smile – a flicker of private amusement. Loki had always found himself returning the smile, feeling glad that Odin had shared that moment. Thor, smelling of burnt leaves and sweat and horse and leather and steel, laughing and dismounting and calling his name. Thor, happily carrying the picnic basket from their packhorse, excitedly boasting about what he had accomplished on their quest and wondering what kind of feast they would have when they finally returned home.
Loki counted the sunshine of his days and hoarded the good things with which he had been bestowed. Just as Elska had taught me so long ago, he mused, shifting a little to find a more comfortable position, folding his hands over his stomach. Something good will come out of this, surely. Surely. Surely.
His hopes echoed like a meaningless mantra in his head. At the sound of scraping, clattering and footsteps, Loki twisted about, attention riveted. There was talking and shifting and lifting and swaying as Loki's chest was picked up and moved.
To where? Loki turned about and tried to peer through the hole closest to his head. Nothing seemed very clear. There was a flash of grey – stone? – darker grey and black – the sky, a wall? – white, blue and other formless shapes. Rocking back and forth greatly, Loki felt a jerk pull him upward and then down sharply, landing, it was apparent, onto some cart or perhaps the carrier of a jarnkottr. He could see the black and grey fur bristle for a second before the chest was shifted and then all that came to view were the slats of the jarnvithr saddle-back.
There was growling and snarling and the usual sound of a domesticated jarnkottr and the 'wup wup!" of the drivers filled the air, muffled by the wood around Loki. With sharp jerks, they started, rocking with the familiar rise and fall of the jarnkottr's loping gait, and the awkward run continued on for what seemed to be quite some time, allowing him to fall once again into fitful sleep. His dreams, haunted by visions of the Void and the shadows which lurked within, disturbed him and before long, Loki was wide awake again and gasping, feeling anger and fear surging up within him in response.
"This is not something I had agreed to," he growled to himself. Of course, no one was listening.
Really, Loki groaned, as his head banged unpleasantly against the ceiling yet again. What was Father thinking?
You know what he was thinking-
Be silent. It is not true. It is not true. Not true, not true, not true...
Oh, the Norns...
He was going to be sick. Before Loki could start protesting again, the jarnkottr came to a shuddering halt, throwing Loki against the hard side of his cage. There were shouts and instructions being bandied about and stamping and the crackle of ice as the jarnkottr were contained in the usual way – thick ice stables rising around their bodies and neck, containing the partially wild creatures. Peering out of the air hole, Loki could see the edge of fur and a glimmer of stars.
Suddenly, the chest was jolted and Loki slid uncomfortably back onto his head and shoulders as he was tipped downward. Luckily, someone appeared to have caught him. More footsteps crunching over ice. More swaying. Then it stopped, was set down, while more talking ensued overhead quietly. Straining his ears, Loki picked up the words 'Highness', 'Laufey-King' and 'ceremony'.
Ceremony? Loki's heart began to beat faster as true panic set in. What ceremony? Am I to be executed? Surely – surely not...
Just as he was about to attempt kicking out the side of the jarnvithr wood, the chest was picked up again and everything fell quiet except for the slow footsteps of whomever was carrying him. Loki tried to peer out but all he could see was grey foothills, white ground and the starry sky above.
Some time passed, yet eventually Loki's chest and porter came to a halt. He was set down and after a few seconds, there was a fumbling at the lock. As quick as he could, Loki crouched down, preparing to spring out. No sooner had the lid started to rise, but the small runtling pushed up and forward, attempting to clamber out – and yelped as a familiar hand descended to yank at the chains about his wrists, lifting up the twisting, slender frame of the young prince.
"Quiet."
Laufey. Loki curled his lip and spat in his father's general direction, trying to kick at the giant's unprotected midsection – and failed miserably.
"You bring shame to your House with such misbehaviour."
"Why would a supposed abomination such as I care about a thing like shame?" Loki ground out, glaring up at his father as Laufey looked down at him with a scowl.
"That is true," Laufey finally replied. "Yet, this is the final hour. For such a one as you, this is the day you are free from those burdens which had been placed upon your shoulders. This is the day you will join the company of your forefathers and find peace."
"Wha-?" Loki's dark eyebrows rose, his red eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he attempted to make sense of his father's obviously recited words. "Wha- What are you talking about-"
"This is the Ritr-Re'konning. The Rite of Returning, the Cleansing which should have happened all those years ago, on the day of the abomination's birth. Let they who failed to bear their responsibility grieve at the pain they inflicted. Let they who failed to bear their responsibility accept the reproof – and let them pay the penance."
"No!" As Loki's feet touched the ground, he jerked back, teeth bared in a snarl. "No! By Helheim – this – you cannot do this to me!"
"For the good of Jotunheim, for the greatness and continued prosperity of the Realm and the people therein, I return the one so cursed upon me-"
"I – I am not going – you cannot-"
Loki was digging his heels as best he could into the hard soil, snow and ice upon the ground in vain attempt to slow Laufey's steady progress to the edge of the cliff face. Impossible. It was like attempting to stop a snow avalanche – and his leather booted foot caught in the crack of the stone paving which led to the edge of the cliff, causing him to stumble forward, nearly falling onto his face.
Stone paving. He thought wildly as he glanced about him feverishly looking for any hold to grab onto. A road. An ancient road.
Utangard and Innagard. The Citadel of the Pale Moon. The Tower of the Cold Suns.
An ancient road now leading to nowhere. Leading to the Void.
Loki shuddered at the thought.
Let me die quickly, he begged internally. Let him cut my throat before I am cast off. By the Norns, I cannot...
"...darkness you were born to darkness you will return. May the light of the For-Eldra shine upon your face and give you peace."
Loki stared up in disbelief at his Father's – NOT-Father's – rough face, stony as though carved out of flint or obsidian itself. Laufey was going to do it, going to do what he should have done all those years ago.
Heimdall. No... the Bridge was broken. Odin. And Father busy and tired. Frigga. Would she know? Did she know? Thor. At least he is safe... Elska. Byleistr.
Now they stood at the edge, the two of them, gazing down in the Abyss which swirled about lazily. The worlds, the Sages had said, are filled with colour and light and the energies of magick. However, the Muthr'a'Ginnung is cold, is death, is worse than death – it is nothing. Looking down at the black hole which had been for so long feeding off the giant Realm, Loki thought he knew now what had threatened his dreams.
All those years, listening to the Voices of the Void, he thought. Hearing it in my dreams, feeling its cold breath drift across Utgard and creep into the shadows. Gnawing away at my thoughts... it was here... all the time... I merely did not wish to face it, the reality of it, the reality of the fact that I was destined for it.
"This is the road to Innagard." Laufey's rough voice broke the silence, broke the ceremonial forms. His red eyes glanced down at Loki's smaller, frightened and angry red ones. "Now," he continued, moving his gaze upward and across to the Eybjarg before them. "Now it is the path to nowhere. It is a path to the Void. It is a path to Death and the freedom that it is beyond."
A pause.
"It is the only gift that I can give you, lagreinn."
"Gift?" Loki snapped trying to jerk away – and failing yet again. "You call this a gift?"
"Accept it for what it is."
"I accept nothing."
"So typical of your kind, lagreinn."
"Loki."
"What?" Laufey blinked and raised an eyebrow at Loki.
"My name." Loki set his jaw, clenching his teeth. "It is my name."
"You named yourself."
Definite amusement.
"No," snapped Loki. "It is my given name."
"Who gave it to you? Your..." A pause and then a sneer. "Family?"
Loki did not reply, but his red eyes glittered like hard stones, boring into Laufey, who shook his head.
"They were more foolish than I thought... but I suppose they came to their senses, sending you down here."
"I was sent to you - to help you!" Loki protested. "And I can – I could help-"
"You have done nothing but bring death and trouble-"
"That is a lie-"
"That is a truth," Laufey hissed back. "You brought death to our people and misfortune to our land and no doubt had a hand in starting this war-"
"There is no war!"
"There will be."
"There is no need-"
"There is every need."
Loki sighed, shut his eyes and turned away forcing down his bile and his hatred and his fear and his self-loathing and his regret. His regret his regret his regret. After a moment, he pulled again at the chain, drawing Laufey's attention downward.
"If you are so bent on this," he finally said in a quiet, hard voice, "then do it. Quickly."
"You rush so easily and headlong into death-"
"Do not – do not-" Loki found himself having to breath a few more times before he could calm his flaring temper, "do not talk to me about rushing headlong into anything. You are the savage beast who succumbs to the ignorance of time and sates the appetites of his superstitious backward people with the unnecessary and wasteful death of the one who could-"
Laufey's hand rose and then swept down, slapping Loki hard across the face, bringing silence once again between the pair. Giving a half sob of laughter and one of tears, Loki turned away as best as he could. The king took the chain in both of his hands, stepped forward closer and closer, edging out to the road's very end – what looked like a flat bridge.
A flat bridge to nowhere. It jutted out quite far from the land, allowing for a perfect place for such a Rite as this. Loki knew that long ago, his kind had been tossed over the edge, never to be seen again. Then had come the traditions of compassion, killing babes in the womb who showed signs of being runts. Now, I will suffer the fate of my people, Loki thought numbly as he was carried to the edge, as the king – not his father, never his father – held him over the edge, toes danging over the gaping Muthr'a'Ginnung.
Now, I will fall to the darkness...
He would not cry. He would not cry – but already he could feel icy trails on his cheeks. Silent yet telling.
I do not want to go. Not this. Never this.
"Once, I had a child. Once, I bore a babe... and from this day onward, I will be one upon whom the blight has cast its curse and having cast shall never know his child again... shall never see his lines pass onward."
Laufey paused and then, hesitantly, laid a hand upon the dark head before him. The curling, wild hair seemed so soft. Refusing to meet Loki's gaze, Laufey turned the runt, so that it could face its fate with open eyes. Grasping the shackles, Laufey iced the links with his strongest magick, breaking them in two.
"Go forth," he whispered softly and let the shackles go, flinging the slender form out into the centre of the Eybjarg. "Go forth... Loki. May the skies open for you, may the stars light your way, may your soul find wing to the For-Eldra. May you have peace."
And Loki turned, as he fell. Laufey caught a glimpse of red eyes closing and arms spreading wide as a bird to fly. Brilliant red eyes the colour of blood. Farbauti's eyes.
[...what has come to pass...]
[...or not...]
Laufey stood there in the silence.
[...silence fell on Jotunheim...]
[...silence fell...]
He stood there in silence for many hours – and did not stir until Helblindi ventured closer and called his name. Fylgja.
He would never be a Faetha. Never again.
One more curse to bear.
For all time.
[...fell...]
Hope you enjoyed it! If you did, if you didn't, please let me know~ I really do find a lot of inspiration and encouragement from folks. Concrit is always hearted. XDD
-KI
Alien Glossary:
'auzha – fucker
chi'iano – a radioactive piece of rock similar to uranium
cho'ai - lover
Dou'ma – idiot
Eno'Keshi'ko – the system of Eno, a type of magical level measurements
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
Muthr'a'Ginnung - the Mouth of the Void, black holes
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