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.
I'm so so so so so sorry guys for the wait! I had writer's block and a pretty intense work week. But I come bearing gifts - namely an 8K chapter! I hope you guys enjoy it. Lotsa world/ship building and more info and vocab and other things.
Thanks so much to: vincent1875, jai parker, Chiharu Angel, Elizabeth, wbss21, InsolentKatt and zippy zany. Thanks so much for your comments and input!
Up ahead... Firefly shout out (sorta), butchered Russian? and a Tom Hiddleston-inspired character. XD
Let me know what you guys think~!
Distortions In Time
[Bitter Desolation, Incandescent Harmony]
Chapter 65
Loki: The Low Road I
[...what is it to be nothing...]
[...to be vaetki...]
[...it is to be one with...]
[...the Nothingness...]
[...the Void...]
He was falling. Falling. Always he was falling in his dreams, falling backward, eyes cast upward at the rapidly receding safety of land. There was nothing but cold and dark and the spinning stars and the icy crags of the icy Realm's underside.
Panic, petrification froze his limbs and his breath caught in his throat. No chance to scream, no chance to cry out... There was only the long slow fall through space, inexorably drifting downward and then he was pulled, stretched, and dragged into the gaping mouth of the Muthr'a'Ginnung. No chance to scream, no chance to cry out... a voiceless, silent fall.
In his nightmares, he had screamed. In his dreams, he had cried.
Reality, however, was all too different.
There was only the fall. The pull. The rising wall of particle diffusion, the swirl of dark magicks... and then the dark.
[...one with...]
[...the Void...]
No time. No thought. No being.
[...the Void...]
Up. Down. Where? Dark. Pin pricks of light. Cold. Cold. Socoldsocoldsocold. Impossible. No. Where? Hard. Hard rock. Turn. Is there direction now? Where? Turn. Turn. Gasp. Air. A sound so far away – harsh and rough. Engines? Rocks? No. No. It was his own breath, his own throat. A throat. I have a throat. I – I – Loki. Loki. Who was he? Where... Air – air – why isn't there enough to breath? Something twitches. A muscle. Ah. Yes. I had those. Muscles. Bones. Fingers. Arms. Scrabbling. Turn – turn to look. Where? Where am I? Dark. Only dark – and the pin pricks of light. Light broadens. No. Turn away. Turn away. Turn away away away awayawayawayaway. Flailing, soft dirt rises – dust. Moon dust? Where? Dust rises and underneath hard rock and gravel scrape. Pain. Pain. Pain is good. Pain is life. Life is self. I am alive... I am... alive? Alive?
Alive.
At that thought, Loki managed with some inner strength he had never known he had had before to turn onto his side, raising his head slightly in an attempt to gain a sense of bearing. All his blurry vision could focus on was grey. Grey and black and lines of glinting things. So he lay there and waited and breathed.
After a few minutes, Loki's acute discomfort passed and, releasing what little hold he had over his remaining abilities, allowed blue to creep over his skin, enveloping him in relative warmth as his native heritage came to the fore (why had he turned white before? I cannot remember...). Bit by bit, awareness became more grounded and his limbs found enough strength to scrabble against the rock – although movement was limited. Air was limited. Loki found himself hard put to remain calm as his lungs found the atmosphere inadequate for his needs.
Darkness once again began to spot his vision, but not before Loki glimpsed a blur of white and blue and grey. A lighter grey. A moving block of oddly bright red. A small white blur reaching for him. Something glinting drawing closer. Loki thrashed weakly – but then relaxed as metal and plastic pressed around his mouth offering an additional puff of canned air. An oxygen mask, he thought desperately. Someone... His red eyes turned upward slowly attempting to focus on the figure above him, but all he could see was a dark black glimmering mask – some kind of face shield, he supposed – a bulky grey-white and blue body suit, a large pack and a long red canister.
Oxygen. Technology. Life. Loki's hands rose then, gripping the arm which pressed the mask to his face in silent empty plea. Please...
As if able to read his mind, the face mask nodded and then shifted Loki upward. Loki's lips parted then in a silent, rather airless cry of pain. Darkness blotted out the starry sky and the grey, lifeless world about him. He blacked out.
-0-0-0-
The universe of Midgard, the Sages say, is a great one and empty. Yet even here, there is life.
[...there is life...]
[...where there is...]
[...there is hope also...]
Even on the edges of one of its smaller galaxies, clings a teeming planet full of life. Ignored by most as rather barbaric and backward, this small green-blue planet by most is known as Midgard – and is considered by none to be all that important, although it too, unknowingly, fell under Asgard's imperialistic care. Midgard, third planet from a well-fueled sun, lay in what some called the Shen'grid, the Protected Zone, the Safety Belt, the Kholathan. For some reason, the beings there evolved slowly and only on a few occasions sent out various metallic satellites or ships to the moon or its orbiting plane. Time passed and no apparent sign of further colonization showed – but the few colonies from the Skrull and Kree Empires, which had settled on the galaxy's far edges, watched carefully from a distance.
The outer ring of rock and dead planets and asteroids protected the system from serious harm. To this silent world of ice and metals, the O'zara'li Corporation came for mining purposes. They came swiftly and silently, took what they needed and shuttled it back to the home colonies on the other side of the galaxy. There was no contact made with the protected planet. None was needed. None was wanted.
Asgard was watching.
[...there is life...]
[...where there is...]
[...there is hope also...]
[...so fostered...]
[...it springs forth in bounty...]
Silence. Silence of a sort. Not really silence at all, he realized after a moment. Loki blinked a few times, his vision clearing slowly and revealing a dark grey grill above him. Panic welled as memories rose -
A far away time. A time of aching solitude. The honeycomb cells of the Mah'konai where he had learned the horror of the anonymity of owned things – and patience. He had learned that as well. That was what he called it, anyway. Better word than what it actually was, Loki thought, jerking upward and looking about wildly, right hand rising to his chest and neck, checking for shackles. Broken.
Broken in. Broken down. Crushed. Defeated. Never again.
Never again.
Closing in on him like a coffin, the walls had surrounded for a time that had never seemed to end. Even to this day, Loki mused, I still do not know how long I actually spent in that dim world. Pushing those horrors, those terrible memories down, Loki imagined as was his wont a large chest so bottomless and firmly sealed. Carefully locked, with such seals and padlocks as time would allow him, it sat there in the shadowed recesses of his mind.
Leaving that behind him, Loki opened his eyes once more and focused on the room in which he now found himself. A dimly lit place, for above hung long thin tube-like lights which flared a pale yellow. The room itself was square with metal walls, one of which sloped a little outwards as it rose up to the ceiling, and small. Cramped, even, Loki mused, noting how there seemed no apparent furniture installed in the room. There were square lines set into the wall. Pull out furniture? He wondered. More than likely.
Leaning back, Loki stilled his breath and listened carefully. Passing chatter outside his door, the stomp of boots on grating, a clang and metallic rumble – and underneath it all, the steady thrum of great engines. Yes, Loki shivered, I am trapped on a ship. Drawing his knees up to his chest, the exiled Prince rested his forehead on his knees, attempted to calm his breathing and focus on what to do next.
Gather information. That's an obvious first step, he told himself. Appear amenable. Friendly. Woo their goodwill. Find their weaknesses and exploit –
Before Loki could consider the matter any longer, the grey scuffed wheel on the battered black and green door turned, opening to a brighter hallway, revealing a squat silhouette of a humanoid figure briefly before Loki's visitor stepped forward into the only light turned on in the cabin.
Squat, square-shoulder, with a blue-grey stained one piece suits favoured among most utilitarian space-faring folk, side pockets and snaps and straps and loops. Above the black, worn boots with thick brown treads, baggy pants and half-opened collar was a thick neck, corded with muscle beneath tan skin if the sun had recently touched it. Judging by the sallow look of the Narodian, Loki gauged it had been in space for a good few months.
Narodian. Loki knew the folk to look at. A few had passed through Sharda'aa, but only the rare few had lingered long. Workers who tilled the ground in contentment, pirates and travelling fighters had spat. Farmers and well-meaning folk the galaxy over. Now, however, Loki found himself minutely relaxing in relief.
"You're up," said the Narodian.
Loki nodded.
"Worried there... for a few parsecs," grinned the man. "But you look more alive now, as opposed to, well, then."
Without by your leave, the newcomer, self-avowed rescuer and obvious worker pulled down another bed from its inset niche in the wall. Loki took note of the red handle which the worker had twisted before pulling out and down.
"Name's Nesta," A nod and another quick smile.
"Ah." Loki paused before supplying another name. Surrendering for just a few moments to memory. "Kol'la."
"Kol'la..."
"Hm."
"How did you get out there – lost like that?"
"How do you know that I am lost?" Loki lifted his chin, suppressing a flinch as he realized he wore his Jotun skin and no doubt looked very much like a being out of his native surroundings.
"Well. No one hangs about on a 'roid for the fun of it," Nesta chuckled then. "Although... I suppose one might end up marooned... Were you spaced?"
The worker's obsidian gaze suddenly sharpened.
"Spaced?"
"Well, you sure aren't from around here."
Loki refused to respond, giving Nest a hard red stare back.
"Spaced," Nesta shrugged before elaborating. "You know – ejected from a ship. Forcibly."
"Ah. No." Loki supposed ejection from a Realm was in an entirely different category all together.
"Ah."
Pause.
"So you aren't well... hopped on Hona or Phero or anything like that?"
Loki shook his head.
"Do you even know what Hona or Phero are?"
"Drugs?" hazarded Loki, wracking his mind for any memory of a mention of those names. The closest word he supposed was related was Fiero – something mammalian creatures were fond of taking. Mammalian, animalian – any kind of beast like organism which could find exhilaration in the release of one's mating instincts. "You speak of Fiero?"
"Ah. You definitely aren't from around here," Nesta nodded as if proved right. "That's Skrull for Phero."
"Skrull?" Loki tensed. "Skrull are in these parts?"
"Well, yeah, Nosta scratched his head and then chin thoughtfully. "This is a Skrull vessel..." A pause. "A mining ship. Third Class Hauler."
"I see."
"Three work crews and our captain," Nesta supplied helpfully. There was a fond note in his voice. "My people aren't fond of ships, but this boat and crew are better than most. I'll be sad when I get back home."
"Home."
"On the other side, far from here. This is the more forsaken part of the Galaxy. Well – except for that one place we never visit..." Nesta shivered. "That's real close. Too close – but the Cap says we need some pu'lotni, so here we are."
"I see," Loki murmured not really seeing at all, but deciding that keeping his ears and eyes open would probably do him mere good than listening to the ramblings of the ignorant if good-natured Narodian.
"Hm... well. It'll all come in time," Nesta shrugged. "Captain says that you'll probably wanta ride back to some form of civilization-" Pause. "Unless you actually wanna hide out on the asteroid – although it'll be largely uninhabitable when we leave-"
"Here is good," Loki assured Nesta quickly.
Although knowing the exact location of 'here' would be wonderful.
"Well, you're in luck!" Nesta went on. "We got a free bunk here – I mean, right here – in this room, rather... on account of Elja getting spaced."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Got all spacked out on T'chata'ko. Idiot. Everyone knows lizard physio and 'sect plug don't mix – no matter what you shapeshift. Went crazy, you know."
"Crazy," Loki repeated blankly.
"Cap spaced him when he went for the Stunners – kinda harsh, but pluggers are just asking for it, if you ask me."
"Right."
"So don't take stuff like that. Cap isn't called Captain Steel Balls for no reason. Stay on course and you'll be all good."
"Very clearly."
"Great!"
Pause. Nesta stood and jerked his head.
"Wanna see the rest of the ship?"
Loki blinked and then gave the man a quick smile, infusing what warmth he could into it.
"Please," he rose to follow Nesta out of the tiny quarters into a narrow tunnel which could be called a hallway in other places. Corridor more like, he corrected himself.
"Well. Great. A quick tour before we kit down," Nesta nodded and then paused, turning to look up at his taller companion. "Get you some victuals while we're at it, maybe."
"Sound plan," Loki smiled down at the short Narodian, ignoring a sudden protest from his empty belly.
"Good. Let's get going then. So... here you can see our quarters," Nesta waved a hand back at the door through which they had just exited. "Well, I'm mighty glad you're my bunk mate. Ever bunked with a plugger? Ha. Well. Don't. It's like-"
With that, the two were off, Nesta bustling down the bright corridors, chatting with his usual vivacity while Loki drifted along behind.
Silent, yet watchful.
-0-0-0-
Perseverance is for the living; hope is for the dying, Nesta had said, had quoted with an odd air of sagacity. For a moment, a sharp, vivid image filled Loki's mind. A picture of Nesta seated in the warm, red glow of a cozy, homely kitchen, surrounded by contented faces with a horde of babes clustered about his knees excitedly begging for a tale. Loki shook his head, snorting dismissively at his maudlin thoughts.
"Perseverance is for the living; hope is for the dying," Nesta said, paused and then chuckled. "An odd saying, some think – but a true one, nonetheless. An ancient Phylloxian saying. Hm. Yes. They may have been forgotten but their wisdom has not... well, at least not in my quadrant. Ah, but of course you have no idea what I'm talking about. No matter. You will, eventually... or you won't. Ha. That can be true too. Many pass through the halls of wisdom, but few may carry out more than the air. Well – that's another Phylloxian saying, not to say that my home is a hall of wisdom. No. Anyways..." Pause. "That's what the name is – her name, as the Captain likes to say. Tro'watal. Means 'perseverance', you know, from the saying. The old clunker used to belong to a Noradian – before he retired. And Cap took it off his hands. Those Skrull know how to drive a bargain! Yes. But she's a beaut, despite her age. Third Class, Long Range Hauler with the usual Infinitype Engine complete with Oxorbal Generator Crystal, you know? Energies that are renewable – solar and other wavelengths – all above my head, I'm afraid. You could ask Engill. One of the more chatty engineers around."
Listening to Nesta's chatter with half an ear, Loki watched his surroundings carefully, attempting to note and memorize the location of the central 'Mod' – the transport which ran along the length of the ship on the upper side of the hull. It was the link between the main sections of the ship – from the fore to the aft, in which the 'hyper-light' engines lay with the aforementioned Oxorbal Generator, seen only through the wide view ports surrounding it on all sides. Connected by struts and various metal supports, it hung suspended in its socket toward the back of the ship. Brilliant white with shades of blue, the orb looked beautiful to Loki's eye. It too thrummed with power and, leaning against the transparisteel windows, he closed his eyes and listened. From far away, Loki fancied, he could hear singing.
Within minutes, Nesta forged onward, shooing Loki forward to inspect the half-filled hold, a dark and stale pit which would, in a few week's time, be carrying a precious cargo of various kinds of ore. Just after the hold, between the cargo and the crews quarters another Mod ran downwards to the sub-light engines below.
"We'll get you down there another day," Nesta went on, waving a hand airily. "Not that you'll get anything – just a bunch of wires and screens and consoles and buttons. Ah – and now we are at the crew quarters, which you know. Of course. Five levels. Well, six if you count storage and the trash compactors and sewage treatment facility. No one goes down there except for the odd engineer or deck hands – that's us – for repairs. Not that you'll be asked, no fear. So, yes, five levels. Three for the three platoons. Headed by the three First Officers. Each of them take alternating shifts."
Here, Nesta came to a wide, similar-looking hall with the usual grating above and solid metal walls with no sign of decoration or art. Down one side a row of glass-looking stuff protected various charts - star and shift-related duty tables. Purely utilitarian, Loki mused, as with the rest of the ship. No real surprise. What I would have thought for a mining vessel. Utilitarian – and the corridors all too similar. How to tell them apart?
"This is the schedule. As you can see, the next two shifts are Platoon Frei and Sa and then there's us – Tho. Yep. Each platoon mans the bridge, engines and mining 'chines. One pilot, navigator and comm officer, two techies, four engineers and three deck hands. Or four. We've got four. You're one now – if you wanna ride back with us."
"Your Captain is amenable?"
"Wha-?"
"Your Captain will allow my presence on board so easily?"
"Well, yeah. Sure. As long as you aren't plugging."
"Right."
"Hm. Let's move on then. Ah. Here's the Mod." Nesta got back inside the small travelling – box, Loki decided that was the most suitable word for it. Coffin also came to mind. He flinched at the thought.
One thin wall away, he thought, and then there is nothing but cold hard space... It didn't bear thinking on.
"So, yeah, where was I?"
"Uh," Loki paused and squinted in thought as he moved backward mentally through the conversation. "Levels?"
"Right! Five levels. Three are set aside for the crews – a level for each platoon. There's also the level set aside for meeting rooms, canteen and the like and then the uppermost floor belongs to the first Officers and Cap. The furthermost part – where we're going now – the, ah, the fore of the ship, that's the Command."
With that, the Mod came to a shuddering halt, it's scratched, scuffed doors jerked open, revealing a wide, sweeping, circular-shaped room. Along the innermost walls, consoles and brightly blinking panels lay, watched over by the various command crew on duty. The Consoles ended with a section of black wall which then gave way to a large screen – or was it transparisteel – or both? It was hard to tell, but currently what floated past were slowly rolling asteroids.
Deceptively slow, Loki reminded himself. If we are in some kind of orbit, we are all speeding along, at quite a quick pace. If we are not adequately shielded, in a very short time, we will end up crushed like flies under the broad hand of a fisher's wife. Before Loki could query about the ship's defences, the largest chair, which sat a little higher than the rest, looking down at the navigator and pilot seated before the transparisteel screen-window, turned.
A great, black presence in the room, it commanded attention – respect – as any throne in any domain. It reminded Loki of Shax's favoured seat in his study. Odin's throne, even. Then it swivelled, revealing spare lines, lithe muscle and the green skin of a Skrull. A female Skrull in an imposing, impeccably spotless black and green, form-fitting space suit. Loki stiffened and raised his chin a little as her glittering, hard eyes like cutting stones surveyed him carefully. Carefully, quietly – cool.
Hard as steel is the Cap, Nesta had mentioned somewhere between the canteen and the Oxorbal Generator. Nickname's Cap Gan'ga'war, on account of, well, her steel guts. But you won't find a more fair captain in these parts.
"So..." A telling pause and then. "This is the one you found," Captain Mal'myrn said softly. "Outside, I heard."
"Yes, Captain," Nesta nodded, back straight, eyes suddenly holding a serious quality – holding her level gaze calmly.
"How did you come to be in these parts, wanderer?" The Captain tilted her head thoughtfully, looking Loki up and down from head to toe slowly. "It is a mystery indeed – for you cannot have been there long. We had only just pumped oxygen into the containment field – yet there had been no sign of any spacecraft or teleporter activity on our sensors."
"I..." Loki hesitated before deciding to settle for a half truth. "I fell through the Void – through a kind of hole, what some may call a wormhole..."
"A wormhole?" Captain Mal'myrn murmured. "A fantastical notion – to survive such a thing with no obvious space gear-"
"It was sudden."
"It must have been," was the sharp reply accompanied by an equally sharp look. "From where do you come?"
"Another Realm."
At Loki's words, the rest of the crew jerked to even closer attention and Nesta's eyes widened.
"It is true," Loki hastened to assure them. "But it is not a common thing to – well – to arrive like this or rather, this was a single event that-"
"True, it may be," Captain Mal'myrn raised her hand, silencing Loki. "Our people also come from another Realm and the Kree, the Chitauri, the Asgardians and many others have achieved this – through technology or other magickal means. If it is as you say – a singular event and not a planned invasion, then our facilities, such as they are, are open for your use – at a price, of course."
"Of course," Loki nodded. "I can give you what aid I can, having some strength and resilience-"
"Still..." The Captain rose to her full height – not as tall as Loki, but still imposing thanks to her thick-treaded, black combat boots. "Your... kind... I do not think I have met before."
Here, long fingers reached up and lightly traced the lines which ran up Loki's neck to his chin. Suppressing a flinch, Loki kept himself still and settled for a long glare down at the She-Skrull who had so boldly touched him. Captain Mal'myrn merely smiled in response and continued on undeterred.
"Blue skin with such markings and eyes as hard, as bright, as gloriously murderous as a blood stone... I have heard tales of a Realm filled with such a people – an icy Realm... but they were Giants in the stories – like those of the Fire Realm. Perhaps, that is your home? For you are yet of a size... although... your clothing reeks of Asgard or Vanaheim..."
"Perhaps," Loki smiled thinly in return. Jotun meant savage in most parts – but her words seemed to be more laced with wonder – or desire – than distaste.
"Then you are a long way from home," she drew back, her own red eyes calculating. "We are in the Realm of the Eternally Protected, in Midgard's domain. No one may lay foot on that fabled planet, but our people have come to enjoy the galaxy and others close by. There are some planets farther in where you may find a way back to the Realm of Jotunheim."
"My thanks," Loki allowed a smile. "I will give you what service I can in return."
Captain Mal'myrn smiled then, slowly - as if amused. Perhaps she perceived no need for him, or what he thought he could offer. Loki's pale blue cheeks blushed deep violet as she turned away with one last lingering look, full of amusement, at him. Somewhere, at Loki's elbow, Nesta was snorting or chuckling – or something.
"I will keep that in mind..." She sat back in her chair and crossed one booted leg over the other. She left the sentence un-ended, eyebrow rising in silent query.
"Kol'la, Captain," Loki said with a short bow, cheeks still flushed.
"Kol'la," she seemed to taste his name with fondness. "I look forward to your... help... and hard work. I shall see you soon, perhaps."
With that, the audience was ended, the Captain swivelled back around and focussed once again at what had been scheduled for the day. The extraction of some silvery metal, apparently, if the rotating pictures on the console screens were to be believed. Loki and Nesta did not linger. Withdrawing back into the Mod, the two travelled back to their shared quarters in silence – almost silence.
Nesta was still coughing or laughing.
Loki glared up at the Mod's harsh white lighting.
This is going to be a long trip, he thought, recalling her glinting, predatory gaze. A long trip.
-0-0-0-
The following week was spent working, sleeping and eating. Learning the new rhythms of life aboard the Tro'watal was no easy matter, but Loki had always prided himself on his ability to adapt to any situation. So, with the intensity he usually applied to magick and academics and politicking, Loki set about learning everything he could. The exact location of the ship was not readily apparent to him, and even when he got his hands on a few of the local star maps, the entire Realm looked foreign to him. Deciding that it was better to focus on the here and now, Loki moved onto other things.
He learned how to manipulate, recode, rewire and reprogram the basic console and datapad usually allotted to each crew member. The automated drink brewer, the rations dispenser and any of the engine and comm room consoles were considered off limits for dismantlement (which he could understand - although the ban on the drink dispenser not so much). He learned what each job aboard the ship entailed: with whom the comm officer's communicated and how and why, what the ship's Interface was and what it could achieve (and not), what the engineers could and couldn't actually fix or control, how the hold was divided, what the mining shafts actually did (the first thing he learned) and all the powers of the Captain pertaining to the day-to-day affairs of the ship.
He learned the more important details of the living habits of his crew mates: how deeply Nesta slept, how hard it was to wake him as a result and the annoying accompaniment of snoring to said deep sleep, how the Insectoid engineers disliked being spooked and that engineers rarely had senses of humour. There were also the all important stim drinks which he discovered quickly how they affected a Jotun (absurd amounts of frenetic energy which unfortunately obstructed his ability to focus) and how important they were to the Captain and her daily mood.
There were other useful things to understand. The difference between inter-system, inter-stellar, inter-galactic and inter-dimension travel. Different engines were used in different ways, power was gained differently, maps and time became more complicated and, the further the distances, the greater reliance on robotic and mechanical-based calculations. The numbers were, he was assured time and time again, mind-boggling.
Thus, Loki came to grips with the use of consoles and datapads, a kind of technology rarely used in Asgard. Asgard, which had the Bifrost and no need to think of alternative energy sources or the issues entailed in long-distance space travel (gravity, waste disposal, appropriate nutritional and solar light intake, for starters). Loki, more than ever, began to feel something akin to respect as he watched Nesta guide the bottom-most section of their mineshaft to the appropriate location, so the mining bots would gain easy access to the hold of the ship.
In the end, he thought wonderingly, there is advancement even in backwater places such as this. Truly, how often we forget the small things which flourish in the shadows?
An image rose then in his mind of a day long forgotten, now remembered. A cold day, a moment of realization as ice flowed from his fingers and he had known then with startling clarity – he too was alive. He too was a creature. He too had being. He too was someone.
Small things flourishing in the shadows.
[...even here...]
[...there is life...]
[...and where there is...]
[...there is home...]
Travel between the stars is a laborious task, even more so travel between Realms. Those with magick, those with the Bifrost, may rely on direct manipulations of Reality's variables. Those not so gifted, however, must rely on another kind of magick – one of numbers and scientific laws and a high level of technology to predict, discovered and stabilize the appropriate rifts through time and space. Some civilizations had even managed to discover various processes to travel faster than the speediest particles in existence. Probability machines and difference engines operating on various levels aided the Skrull, the Kree and others in expansion of their empires, in the never ending search for resources. Thus, in Midgard's Realm and in Jotunheim's, the Lizards and the Fish-folk travelled far and wide borne on their various ships, powered by the energies, the lights, the Voices of the stars.
[...life everywhere...]
[...if you know where to look for it...]
[...life is...]
The mining planet, which Loki found difficult to refer to thanks to the throat-gargling name, was ugly. Ugly, grey, black and over all gloomy. Niflheim has more character than this place, Loki grimaced as he looked out the grimy window of the quarters he and Nesta now shared at the local "inn". Really, Loki grunted, I would find Tro'watal more hospitable than this place. Captain Mal'myrn said unloading and doing repairs are a noisy task, but in retrospect, I fancy that noise is preferable to... whatever this is...
Loki scrunched his nose as he compared the planet to dark moon mining corporation which had once owned him. This place, probably because of the modicum of light, seemed even more depressing. His red eyes wandered over the brown skies, the low-hanging thick black clouds, the endless vista of pipes and stacks belching forth endless streams of equally black smoke and rails and tunnels and the swarm of air-born traffic lines crawling above the city like a dotted trail of insects.
Sharda'aa... Loki twisted about at the thought and discovered that Nesta was already pulling on his jacket and shuffling into his 'land shoes'. Instead of wearing the usual grubby, bulky uniform of deck hand and miner, Nesta was wearing a kind of canvas tunic and matching grey-brown pants which didn't do his sallow skin and darker features any favours. Loki himself had already changed into his leathers, green tunic, darker green vest and favoured dwarven-made, dragon-hide boots. His more conspicuous hunting gear and jacket were still packed away. How people felt about Asgard in these parts was anyone's guess and Loki felt he would not like to assume anything.
Better discover those things in a more cunning way, he had thought earlier. Better not court disaster in an already tedious situation. Particularly with my magickal abilities so limited.
"You are going out?"
"Just around the corner for evening meal."
"Oh."
"You should join. The place isn't much to write home about – but the food's hot and pretty safe to eat – relatively speaking, y'know. Really the best place to nab some victuals – one of the first things I looked for on my first trip out. Especially since we got at least a day in the Stinkhole."
"Stinkhole?" Loki asked carefully double-checking his vests' inner pocket for his small coin bag which now held some of the quadrant's 'cred coins'.
"My name for the place."
"Rather apt."
"I'd like to think so," Nesta turned to quirk an eyebrow up at his taller crew-mate. "Joining?"
"If it is truly no bother-"
"None at all. The more, the merrier, as they say."
"Who says?" Loki asked curiously, ducking out the low door to follow Nesta down the catwalk which ran along the front of the hotel room doors. He looked back, apprehensively, but apparently the door had already shut and locked behind them automatically. Shaking his head, Loki moved onward, following Nesta to a lift which took them down to another catwalk which eventually took them to a small market-styled eatery.
After ordering some food which looked rather odd – and not very appetizing – the two men took a seat at an already half-full table of miners. Of course, within minutes, Nesta was chatting with each being as though he had known them all of his life. A remarkable trait, Loki thought, and all the more powerful thanks to his sincerity.
"But then Kol'la here fell out of the sky," Nesta was now regaling his tale for the fourtieth time – with the same enthusiasm as the thirty-nine times before. "That was an eye-opener, make no mistake – what with his startling arrival and all. Wormhole, Cap thinks. From another Realm, most likely."
"Realms," spat a grizzled furry humanoid, self-named Roko. "What nonsense. Everyone knows they don't actually exist."
As several of the other miners grunted in a chorus of agreements, Loki found himself cough-choking on a particularly long string piece of, well, he never did find out what it was exactly, but suddenly his food was going down the wrong pipe and all he could think of, as Nesta thumped him helpfully on the back, was – they don't exist?
"Well," one quieter miner, a half-breed by the looks of it, pointed out, "didn't the lizards come from their own dimension?"
"Ah? Really?" another asked doubtfully. "I thought they came from the Fen'chi Galaxy?"
"Not originally," Nesta said. "Captain Mal'myrn's a Skrull. She says they also have territory in another Realm – or two – alongside the Kree-"
"She says – but that kind of tall-tale telling is just the sort of thing your kind believes in." The first, loudest and obviously more respected leader of the group, Roko, spat and added with thick scorn. "Noradians. Believe everything."
"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Nesta replied mildly.
"He's right though," Loki found himself interjecting. "There are many Realms in existence. Most say Nine... although some argue ten since Nornheim may be separate from Niflheim-"
"Have you been to all them Realms?" asked a miner.
"Well, no-"
"Ha! So you just fall for the stories as well-"
"What? No. I've been to a fair few-"
"Re-ally," snorted Roko, disbelievingly. "Which ones?"
"Well... Jotunheim, Nornheim - although there is some debate on whether it is merely an extension of Helheim and Niflheim and I went to Niflheim – briefly, mind you – Svartalfheim, Vanaheim... Alfheim-"
"That's some fair travelling," Nesta's black eyes were wide.
"Well, it never – it is not really important or strange for some-"
"But how can we know you aren't just talking it up?" argued Roko.
Everyone turned to stare at Loki in wait for his response. Loki sighed. This is a first... How does one prove what simply is?
"You cannot," Loki finally admitted. Then, seizing the opportunity, added. "Yet, I assure you, I have been to those places and more beside. Asgard. I forgot to mention that one. Perhaps you have heard of it?"
"Asgard?" Nesta frowned. "No... Can't say I have..." He turned to the miners. "What about you boys?"
"What place is this Asgard?"
"Is it full of women? Is it like this world – or fairer?"
"Or Noradian," laughed Roko. "Bucolic and simple."
"Rustic, maybe, but we're happy." Nesta shrugged. "Better to believe in something than in nothing."
Loki turned the phrase over in his mind.
"Another Phylloxian saying?"
"Yes... how did you know?"
"Easy enough," Loki shrugged.
"Phylloxians," laughed one of the miners. "Hah! There's another child's story – just as far-fetched as the tales of the Golden Realm."
"Golden Realm?" asked Loki, leaning forward. "Asgard? A golden Realm so fair beyond imagining populated by a people who live very long lives-"
"Hmmm... Long lives? Eternal more like. The Golden Realm, the Realm Eternal also it is called." One of the miners elaborated further. "A children's story of a wondrous place-"
Even Nesta was nodding.
"This may be Asgard-"
"Heh. Unlikely," Roko shook his head.
"Wh-"
"I mean, you said you went to this Askard place-"
"Asgard-"
"Yeah, whatever," Roko waved a hand dismissively. "But to go to the Golden Realm, the Realm Eternal, you lack the most important prerequisite... unless you aren't telling us something."
"What is that?"
"You gotta be dead, if you believe such things. Which I don't."
"Eh?" Loki's red eyes widened.
"Dead," Nesta repeated helpfully as though saying it again would bring enlightenment or logic to the conversation.
"Why dead?"
"It's where all good people go."
"Where they go?"
"Yeah," Nesta nodded again. "After you die – you go to the Realm of the Gods. Land of plenty and eternal spring and beautiful gods – women and men alike – and all who live there are imbued with long life and magick... A land where all may achieve those powers and become gods themselves-"
"Wait – maybe we are speaking of Valhalla-" Loki stopped, uncertainly.
"I dunno Val – or whatever you just said," Roko shrugged, "but either way, it's gotta be crock. A plugger's crazy dream."
"Oh. I dunno about that." Another miner who had until then been silent piped up. "Skrull say that the Realm exists – and you can go there... and Tak'ko, before he left to go back to Fen'chi, said that everyone knows on their home world that the gods of the Realm Eternal sometimes go abroad and raise mayhem... raining lightning and devastation wherever they go."
Thor, Loki found it hard put to keep his face impassive at the mention of lightning and mayhem and devastation. Of course, they would have heard of him – even here where scepticism of basic facts about Reality holds such strong sway among the people. The exiled Prince did not know whether to laugh or cry at the thought.
"Skrull will say anything," Roko clunked his pint of ale a little hard onto the table in emphasis. "We established that already. Fairytales. Golden Realms, Phylloxia – what next?"
"So... if Asgard isn't real nor the other Realms... if the Skrull lie – then what is halting the attainment of Midgard?" asked Loki innocently.
"Midgard?" Nesta blinked.
"You do not know of it?" Loki asked nonplussed. "Captain Mal'myrn mentioned it."
"Is it a galaxy? A Realm?" asked another.
"A star system, for certain."
"A planet," Loki said slowly, racking his memories of the ancient scrolls he head read in the Mage's Academy – and of Thor's bombastic tales no doubt highly exaggerated yet no doubt holding a grain of truth. Somewhere. "A populous planet, I heard tell... I have never been there but my brother had visited a few times. A folk which look not unlike Nesta here – perhaps a bit taller. Fair-skinned and short-lived. It is considered off-limits for most-"
"Ahhh... So'shah!" Nesta nodded. "A good point, Kol'la. A good question."
"Doesn't exist," Roko repeated with a grimace. "Mark my words. It'll turn out to be a weapons manufacturing planet for the Fish-Folks or the Lizards."
"Surely not. I have seen long range observations of it-" Nesta protested. "Engill, our engineer, told me the life signs on the planet are staggering."
"That's no argument-"
"And there is no sign of inter-system movement," Nesta continued. "Trust me. We just came from their Outer System Belt. No sign of spacecraft, as usual. None further than their orbit anyway. So-"
"What?" Loki jerked as Nesta's words sank in. "We were – we were within sight of Midgard?"
"Maybe?" I don't know for sure if it's the same planet which you speak of – this Midgard..."
The Noradian trailed off as he caught a glimpse of something terrifying pass over his new friend's face - something sad and painful swiftly buried.
"That place-" Loki found himself speechless as he attempted to corral his racing thoughts.
It was so close. So close. I could have been with Thor... it would not have helped me, more than likely – nor would it be what Father wanted... but at least we would be together. At least there would be a chance that I could be found and Mother would not worry so... as she must be...
"That place..."
"Yes?"
"Nothing..." Loki finally managed to whisper, adding faintly, "It is nothing."
"Well," Nesta gave Loki another worried look before turning back to the miners and continuing. "Whether you all believe in dimensions or not, Kol'la's appearance was a strange thing in and of itself. Undoubtedly strange."
"Magic?" asked someone from further down the table.
"Well... he's blue," added another with a taunting smirk. "Maybe he's one of your Ancients, Noradian."
Everyone laughed heartily at that – excepting the usually cheerful Nesta. He looked sad – almost grim.
"Wha-"
Yet, before Loki could pursue the matter further, Nesta turned to him with a speculative look, pushing aside his metal bowl and spoon to pull his large pint of ale closer to him.
"I'd been meaning to ask about that," he said thoughtfully.
"Ask what?"
"If you have such abilities – changing one's shape – one's skin and so on. Changing, some call it, shape-shifting or myech'myena, in Noradian."
"To a degree," Loki replied carefully, knowing from hard experience that trumpeting one's abilities – or lack thereof – was as bad as trying to cross the Waestrfold during bilgesnipe migration.
Might as well call oneself 'easy pickings' or 'worth the fuss', he thought quickly. Guessing from what I can and cannot do, I am probably not much more than Eno'mah... which does not leave me with the most defences.
"The colour-" Loki finally added in a vague kind of way, since everyone appeared to expect for him to elaborate. "Among other things."
"I see..."
For once, Nesta seemed to quieten, sitting there, looking at Loki in a preoccupied way. Subdued. A gleam of regret and hope in his eyes mixed equally. Loki shifted uneasily.
"You seriously don't think-" guffawed a half-breed.
"You're right, Roko – they do believe everything!"
"Seeing is believing, I guess!"
More laughter.
"Let'em dream, boys, let'em dream," Roko took his fourth pint of ale from the lithesome, half-feline waitress. "They'll wake up soon enough."
"Nesta-" Loki started, then stopped at the curt shake of Nesta's head.
"Later," said the miner curtly.
Loki nodded and reluctantly let it go.
[...there is life...]
[...where there is...]
[...there is hope also...]
Later that night, after they bedded down in their respective bunks – Loki on top, Nesta on the bottom – the two men lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to find them. Silently. Relatively silently. There was the slight shifting as Nesta turned for the fourth time, obviously finding it difficult to fall asleep right away and in the distance, Loki could hear the everlasting stream of traffic passing over head and the clanging of shift bells and wail of sirens and various alarms. A busy world for a dying one. Like a carcass is swarmed with the busy bodies of the death-watch beetles, Loki mused. At the thought, Loki shivered and shoved the horrid image aside.
"Nesta," Loki asked, his voice seemed to be swallowed by the dark about them.
All was dark – except for a square of purple strips which blinked on and off slowly. A sign which managed to filter through some kind of grating beyond their window, Loki supposed. Annoying. For a moment, he considered getting off the bed and turning down the shutters, then dismissed the thought, opting to turn onto his left, the better to ignore it.
"Nesta," he repeated when he received no response.
"Hm."
"You said... well, they mentioned earlier something about the... Ancients? Who were they?"
"Oh..." A pause, then: "Yes. Well. They are long gone from these parts."
"Why?"
"Our..." Nesta sighed. A shifting sound and then he continued slowly and more clearly. "Our ancestors, long ago, when we were young and desperate for survival and security..." A pause. Then, lower. "They were hunted for their abilities – their magick. Enslaved out of greed. The children were weaker, you see, and easily caught. Enslaved and pursued out of greed and fear."
Nothing was said for a moment and then Nesta added even more quietly, "Until they left, never to return."
"They died?"
"Not all." Pause. "They moved on... if you believe the stories of our ancestors. They hid, I suppose. Somewhere out there, they remain hidden, their skins and shapes protecting them. Perhaps... perhaps they are out there still. And now – now," Nesta sighed, "we regret."
"Why?"
"We have settled, our home planet of Norad is secure and we can look back now and see what we lost. We could have lived in peace. Could have aided one another... The chance is gone."
Loki had nothing to say to that. He wanted to tell Nesta everything could be made right. He wanted to say that there was always another chance. He wanted to say that some things once broken could be made whole with time and care. Yet, Loki found it, this time, impossible to lie – even for comfort's sake.
"Maybe... maybe that's why I fought so hard to haul your hefty ass back to safety..."
"Ahhh," Loki hummed noncomittally.
"You kinda remind me of the stories about them."
"Oh."
"You know... in my tongue, phyllox is the word for blue."
An odd silence followed as Loki digested this seemingly unrelated piece of information.
"Hmmm... yes... phyllox..." Nesta added drowsily. "Their skin was blue... the colour of pye'nee bird's eggs and Norad's darker skies." With that silence fell again like a thick shroud between them and Loki's breath seemed to somehow exhale entirely from his lungs as he struggled to process the Noradian's words.
"Nesta, did the stories say from whence they came?"
No response.
"Nesta?"
A soft snore drifted up from the bottom bunk. Loki sighed.
That night, he dreamed of blue-skinned Jotun warrior-mages traversing the stars. Maybe... He was always running after them, calling their names, but they did not answer. Maybe... there is another home...
[...there is life...]
[...where there is...]
[...there is hope also...]
[...so fostered...]
[...it springs forth in bounty...]
So... 8,000 words later, here we are. Less angst. That's coming later. Fufufu. We'll see how far down the rabbit hole our fav character goes~
Below is a shorter glossary since we are far from Asgard and Elvish stuff and Jotunheim. I was going to add some author's notes in response to some reviews on here and stuff, but I'm too tired tonight... v.v;;; Another time...
Next up may be another Thor chapter. (BLAH!) I'll see if I can somehow cramp everything into one last chapter for him.
Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think! Concrit and spell-checking/grammar nitpicking is appreciated.
-KI
Information on Levels of Mage/Magical Abilities
Level 1 – Eno'sa
Level 2 – Eno'tho – Thanos
Level 3 – Eno'frei
Level 4 – Eno'ah – Elven Mages/Odin
Level 5 – Eno'ko – Asgard/Jotun/Any Other Healthy Realm Mage/Prince Loki before Odin caps him
Level 6 – Eno'yul – Sharda'aa/Regular Mage
Level 7 – Eno'vee – Uncollared Kol'la
Level 8 – Eno'mah – Collared Kol'la/Current Prince Loki post-Fall
Level 9 – Eno'lei
Level 10 – Eno'sanai
Numbers (for this quadrant):
0 - nai
1 - sa
2 - tho
3 - frei
4 - ah
5 - ko
6 - yul
7 - vee
8 - mah
9 - lei
Alien Glossary:
'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
Fen'chi Galaxy – Andromeda Galaxy
gan'ga'war – steel balls
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
Kholathan – Safety Belt/Protected Zone
kol-sava'atha – a titanium-rich ore
Morning-star - a mace
myech'myena - shape-shifting
n'ch'nka – a kind of cow
oma'auzha – mother-effer
oto'oa - big sister
pu'lotni – plutonium
pye'nee - a kind of bird
r'senk'ne – a kind of deer/cow hybrid
Shen'grid – the Protected Zone
So'shah – Earth/Midgard
tro'watal – perseverance
udji'oo – a drug, like opium