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. Also F/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, school has started now. I've got 4 months of work ahead of me or so! I was talking to a reviewer the other day and realized that two years ago in April I started this beast. Two years of writing - almost every week. I remember stumbling into a month of writer's block and feeling really bad... but looking back, it makes more sense as I realize that I've been writing this for almost two years. Hopefully, something will come of this piece of work because I do feel like I've put a lot of time and effort into it. It's not perfect by a long shot, but when I consider that I could've spent the last two years of my life writing something more original... I must confess I get worried. And now I'm getting enamored of Thranduil and wanna write something for him. (beats off plot bunnies) If I start a fanfiction after this one that's just as serious as this one - without working on the original pieces I've been promising myself to do, or the sequel to DIT, or the editing of DIT itself - I may have to go into hiding from my bestie and top editor. Le sigh.
Thanks to: Basia Orci, InsolentKatt, the Prince's Jewel and wbss21. Your encouragement have been a real support!
You'll see the changes - starting now. XD
Distortions In Time
Chapter 81
Opening Salvo III
Now we are at war...
Fury's words resounding in his mind, Coulson switched his earpiece to standby, climbed out of his vehicle and walked to the edge of the crater, of what had been the New Mexico SHIELD base. Two years of history gone. Gone so quickly. It was built around the certain realization that we were not alone. Built around- Coulson paused. Dammit. Mjolnir.
Coulson turned to the men and women who had left the six trucks he had escorted to safety.
"Five men and Agent Hill are by the entrance and there will be other bodies to recover. Unit One and Two will remain to dig them out with the help of scanning equipment which the Carrier will send over." Coulson gave each unit leader a solemn look. "Unit Three will escort the remaining technicians and staff to the Carrier. Everything clear?"
"Understood," one of the unit captains said solemnly.
The third unit captain, a staid, broad, no-nonsense woman, gingerly peering over the edge, shook her head.
"This will be..." She trailed off. "Coulson, sir." The woman hesitated. "What about Mjolnir?"
Contemplating the vast field of destruction before them, Coulson, hands on hips, fought the urge to show his sudden fatigue, to show the burden of such an overwhelming task.
"Yeah, I was just thinking of that," he said. "Well..." He began again and then stopped, for the first time in a long time, uncertain. "Damn."
-0-0-0-
"You look..." Tony noted the bags under his CEO's eyes, the rumpled, navy tailored suit and red hair. "Wonderful."
Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, sighed, gave her headache of a partner and lover her now very familiar 'don't-mess-with-me' look.
"You don't look much better yourself," she finally replied, letting Tony drag her small carry-on into the large airy foyer of the Malibu mansion to which Tony had retreated for the winter.
"Really?" Tony gave his girlfriend a wounded look with brown puppy eyes – but not before peering at himself in the mirror, posing and showing off his latest hard rock t-shirt purchase and grimy jogging suit pants. "I always look awesome. We always look awesome," he amended hastily.
"Hm. Well," Pepper rolled her eyes. "It was a not so awesome day in the boardroom arguing with a bunch of idiots who don't have a practical bone in their body, I swear."
"I don't know why you go to those meetings at all – I never did." Tony pressed Pepper into her favorite spot on the leather couch before the large screen TV. He frowned as his fingers found more than a few knots in the vicinity of her neck and shoulders. "JARVIS, relaxation music – and we'll go with Plan D tonight."
"Plan D?" She gave him a tired, yet amused look.
"A really awesome plan."
"Hm..."
"Drinks are in order," Tony said abruptly, noticing that Pepper wasn't even worried about what plans he had had in mind. Normally his girlfriend was up in arms to veto his crazy ideas.
Not that these particular plans are crazy, Tony told himself. Still...
Moving over to the large wide bar in the corner of the room ( a must for all his residences), he poured a small glass of Pepper's favorite white wine.
"The program tonight includes a hot tub, massage by yours truly, this delicious white wine, JARVIS's latest creation in Italian gourmet and soft music. Followed by a long weekend of doing nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"Absolutely nothing sounds nice," murmured Pepper, accepting the proffered wine glass and sipping from it. "But impossible, I think."
"Nope," Tony said firmly. "JARVIS has everything on lock down – right, JARVIS?"
"Indeed, sir."
"Nothing is gonna get in – or out." Tony gave Pepper a look. "The world can go to hell as far as we are concerned."
"As far as you are concerned."
"As far as we are concerned," Tony repeated.
"Hmmm..." Pepper smiled then. "Sounds nice. Sounds too good to be true."
-0-0-0-
The clinic was finally closed for the night. Dr. Banner, a quiet, unassuming man with cheaply framed glasses, an unruly mop of greying black hair and scruffy beard, made his way to his latest residence. The nearby river had flooded a few months back, washing away a good half of the community in which he had established himself. Now, he lived in a small shack at the edge of town – the bad edge.
Entering the small one-room house, he noted that the hole in his roof had been magically patched. Making a mental note to thank his neighbour Rajeed, the doctor dropped his bag onto the small bench by his kitchenette. On the small rickety metal table before the bench, two white take-out boxes sat, still hot and steaming. The spicy tang of curry drifted from it.
Bruce Banner's stomach growled but he ignored the call of the food and focused on putting away his laundry which had been hung up to dry that morning. Walking around back to the local public washroom, the slightly grimy doctor found himself day-dreaming nostalgically about long baths.
That was another time, another place, Bruce chastised himself. You don't belong there anymore... This is your world now – has been your world for a good three or four years now. And it's fine. Outhouses and public showers...you've a lot to be thankful for anyways. It could be worse.
As he passed each house and tent, Bruce could list off each inhabitant. Each family, he knew, had at least one member seriously ill or debilitated. The blind, the deaf, the mute, the crippled, the cancerous... They carry on with their lives as best as they can. They have little choice, in the end, but they eke out a life somehow – or die. There are few other options.
He quickened his pace as it – IT stirred within him uneasily.
We none of us have options.
-0-0-0-
The mess hall of the Helicarrier now invisibly hovering over New York was a loud, cheerful place as crew members left their posts, having handed over their duties to the night crew, relaxed with their buddies. However, one corner of the room was quieter. Everyone gave the steely-eyed red-head a wide berth.
She sat behind her favored round table. The table Clint, Thor, Steve and she often sat at, ate and drank at after a mission. Close to the exit and offering the best view of the mess hall, she felt safe sitting there – watching the comings and goings of her fellow SHIELD members. But not really. She sipped on her Coke slowly. Clint is watching the damn stone, Thor is with his brother... Steve is probably somewhere training... or keeping his eye on Thor so the guy doesn't go vigilante on us.
There were others that she remembered. Hill. Fury. Coulson... So many high-ranking officers in the vicinity of a ticking time bomb, Natasha thought. Not the best idea. She hoped that good judgment calls were being made. She frowned at the memory of what SHIELD's in-house psychologist had told her. Trust issues.
Trust issues. That brought Stark to mind. Stark. Here, she grimaced remembering that unfortunate mission of which she had been a part. God knows where he's at. Well, it doesn't matter really, because when things go to shit, he'll get into the middle of it somehow...
Her upcoming trip – possible trip – to India weighed heavily on her mind. She had seen the paperwork on Bruce Banner, heard the rumors and had seen a few classified files – but reality, she knew, is so often different from what we all expect. It'll be interesting to say the least.
But... But. There was still the Tesseract. An open door, Coulson had said. An open door to what? No one could say. And Clint is the first line of defense. Natasha frowned, swished the ice around her drink and sipped a bit more Coke.
Coulson is there as well... but...
It was official. Natasha Romanov was worried.
-0-0-0-
Washington, DC was quiet. Too quiet, Steve Rogers, better known to the world as the blue, red and white clad Captain America, thought. He had found the local agents' gym and was now pounding away at the bags which had been brought in specially for him.
With each set of punches, Steve visualized the sinister expression of Red Skull – Bucky falling away – and the small, flaring, misty white cube which had brought him a world of trouble. An Infinity Gem, or Stone, Thor had called it. The Space Stone. Whatever it was, Steve had recognized it as trouble materialized even without knowing what it truly was, what it was truly capable of it. I had tried to bury it for all time...
On dark days, he wished it had stayed down there. On very, very dark days, Steve, feeling like a man irreconcilably out of time, wished he had stayed down there as well. Not really, he told himself. What is done is done. There is only one way – forward. No use crying over spilled milk.
No, Steve wasn't the type to let his adverse circumstances overwhelm him. Exorcising his fears at the punching bags, the super-soldier mulled over the problem that was the Tesseract an the fact that it was in Research and not safely hidden in some unreachable vault.
Somewhere upstairs, Thor is trying to pull his brother together. All because of the Tesseract. I was never into voodoo, superstitious stuff, but if anything was cursed, it was the Tesseract. It really does bring nothing but trouble.
As another punching bag slowly came to a stand still before him, Steve shook his head, wiping away his sweat angrily.
It should've stayed down there. We've not seen the end of it... and all the troubles it's gonna bring us.
It's not over.
-0-0-0-
It was so clear now. Up until then, Barton's world had been set in the here, the now – one foot in front of the other – mission followed by mission. A simple life shrouded by the thick skin of what he had thought of as reality.
Now, in a way, all that was gone. The superficial realities of his life and been peeled back, the shroud of the everyday had been lifted, the mask of the mundane, and it was all so clear now.
He remembered the SHIELD conference – and Thor's emphatic statement that his brother had Seen what would happen. Barton of old had been skeptical. He had grunted and rolled his eyes. He had not been able to See the Truth.
But now he knew, now he understood.
The Tesseract spoke of a great tapestry woven by Fate. It spoke of birth and death. It spoke of terrible deeds, yet great. It spoke of parts they all had to play – and Barton felt great comfort in knowing his place, in knowing his place, too, was important.
He would do anything. He was capable of everything.
And there were the others. Other voices in his head. The tug and call of his master to whom he was now bound in purpose and service.
And beneath it all...
Beneath it all, the whispers of doom, promising the ultimate peace, promising death.
Barton smiled, blue eyes glittering. Nothing mattered anymore. He was free.
...DEATH...
[...Time...]
[...Time is the cage-keeper...]
[...the cage of What Is...]
[...Past, Present and Future...]
[...immutable...]
[...there is no going but forward...]
Staring up at the endless vista of night sky, sentient races see a field of black, studded with the cold white light of the stars – and know then the truth of their existence: that they are specks of life in the spaces of the Cosmos, in the eons of Time. Drops of water in a vast ocean, they are born, they live, and they die, arriving and departing with seemingly no impact on the larger scale of Fate.
And yet...
[...there is no going but forward...]
[...there is only success and regret...]
[...and some...]
[...some...]
[...would turn back the sands of Time...]
Once upon a time, in a Golden Realm far away, a dying King passed his throne and the inheritance of his kingdom to his oldest and wisest son. The eldest, cunning and patient as an old fox, had survived the last echoing vestiges of strife and unrest between the Golden Realm and the land it had coveted, reached for and failed to grasp – Vanaheim. During a time of unrest and resentment, the politically savvy, handsome Crown Prince successfully courted and wooed the Princess of the Vanir and, having gained her hand in marriage as well as the Golden Realm's throne for which he had worked so diligently, the newly instated king began a new Golden Age. An age, he vowed, of peace.
It was not to be, thanks to the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. Yet the King persevered and in the end found a kind of peace. He drew about him many men of great repute, wisdom, knowledge and skill. Since his inauguration, the young King had chosen, upon the advice of his father and wife, and then sponsored a a handful of close advisers, close friends from within the Council and the Mage's Court. Of the five, the young Mage was one of his favourites – Mage Agaeti – who, with the patronage of the king, attained the coveted position of High Mage.
In a world of such brilliance, men blazed with might like the stars themselves and battled for dominance and respect. A political and deadly pursuit for honour and long-lived glory... and power.
And those who watched Agaeti's star rise could not but marvel at its brilliance – and in the hearts of some... lay envy. For as a star's heart and light burn out and flare and then shrink, sometimes collapsing into nothingness, so the bitter hearts of jealous onlookers may turn to desperate measures and in an attempt to carve their own bright destinies wander down darker paths and so lose themselves entirely.
[...the ones who take on the burden...]
[...who stare into the abyss...]
[...and discover the truth...]
[...the truth...]
[...the forgotten truth...]
[...the Darkness is not empty...]
[...in shadows malevolence stirs...]
[...and dark things rise...]
"Loki! LOKI!" Thor's voice was filled with worry – and beneath it a tone of happy vindication. "It happened! It is happening! Just as you said!" Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, Thor burst into the sick room. "Rogers just came in with the news. Coulson has arranged to take us to the Carrier where we will meet with the Director to strategize – and you will come as well, if you are-"
Thor stopped as the bed's curtains drew open, revealing his younger brother, sliding off the edge of the bed.
It was Loki. The Loki he knew, the Loki with whom he had grown, fought and played: pale, white skin, blazing green eyes and as slender and sharp as ever. Dressed in a black turtleneck, black pants and combat boots, Loki looked... ready.
There was a washed-out tone to his skin which made the usually pale god look even more corpse-like but the set to Loki's mouth, chin and eyes was one of determination. If he is to be trapped on the planet here with me, Thor thought, bound by my wishes to stay – I wager he will move the mountains and the sea to ensure nothing ill will come of our adventure. Even if he is not well and in truth cannot fight at his full strength... it will not be for lack of trying. As ever, Loki.
Answering Thor's unspoken question, Loki said quietly, "I know." A paused and, when Thor glanced about for sign of the doctors or agents and found now, the warrior-mage added cryptically, "She told me."
A heavy moment. Then: "I am ready."
BADUM.
OK. Uh. Short chapter... I'm sorry! The next one will be longer, I promise!
Let me know what you think! Even if it is criticism! Sometimes I'm a gruff bear, but I really do appreciate hearing people's opinions.
-KI