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, here's another section of Avengers. I'm excited about writing this section, surprisingly. At the moment, I'm working on a massive group conversation and lots of snarky Iron Man vs. Captain America... and of course Loki. I hope I can write him OK. I want him to be just a tiny bit of a sh*t disturber. Heehee. We'll see what I can do. It's gonna be a challenge!

For those of you who are curious about who's come thru the wormhole and wanna guess for yourself, look up Chapter 42, I believe.

Thanks to: InsolentKatt, The elusive shadow, Basia Orci, GKPOSHCAP, wbss21, vincent1875, Armand. Some new people commenting! Thanks for taking the time to support this fic! Thanks to everyone!

Distortions In Time
Chapter 82
Unraveling

[...Time...]
[...Time is the cage-keeper...]
[...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. And yet...

[...there is no going but forward...]
[...there is only success and regret...]
[...and some would turn back the sands of Time...]

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 Darkness is not empty...]
[...in shadows malevolence stirs...]
[...and dark things rise...]

"That is-"
"Yes."
"He – how-"
"Hm."
"How – I mean – why-?"
"Who knows?" Loki shrugged infinitesimally, but Thor could tell by the tightening of his mouth that something had sparked a memory within the young warrior-mage's memory. Perhaps.
"Why..." Thor trailed off, still confused.
"Sometimes," Loki paused and then continued carefully as the video flickered yet again, as static swarmed over the screen slowly before everything went black. The video loop began again. "Sometimes... You live in the shadow of another's greatness – and you stand at their back and look into the dark. It is the only road before you – your fate. Your fate..."

Thor sat back on the edge of the table, his eyebrows furrowed as he processed Loki's quiet words. Coulson and Loki stirred uneasily on either side of him as the loop showed the cloaked figure whirl about and shoot the young female scientist. There was nothing one could say as the now familiar scene played out yet again. Fury sat silently, unmoved, hands folded as he watched Barton fire upon him.

Steve, pacing along the back end of the wall on the other side of the rectangular table in the middle of the grey and blue toned conference room, stopped to stare at the two Asgardians who once again picked up the dying threads of conversation. He found himself paying particular attention to the tall, scarecrow-like figure of Loki who stood on his own two feet yet seemed to favor leaning against the conference table more often than not. Judging by the waxy white skin of the man which stretched tightly across jutting cheekbones, a sharp chin and bony hands, Loki was not in the best of health. And there was Coulson's watchful gaze. The shorter agent, like Steve, questioned Loki's fitness, but no one spoke of it and Steve held his peace, uncertainly.

"Fate?" Thor finally asked.
"You would not understand it easily," Loki said tiredly.
"You always say such things," Thor frowned, arms folding and jaw set. "As though I have never felt as though my fate were not within my own hands."

Loki did not appear phased by the familiar appearance of Thor's annoyed look.

"It has not been?" Loki asked coolly.
"Do you see Mjolnir about?" Thor bristled. "Do you see me with my powers back? Returning to Asgard? No, Loki, you are not the only one who was faced with huge matters out of your control."
"You will get it back, however. You always believe it to be so."
"Optimism does not equate ability."
"I speak of feelings, not reality-"
"Okay, guys," Coulson interrupted quickly. "What do you mean about Fate?"
"There is the belief that our lives are controlled by the weaving of the Great Tapestry – that all of our lives hold some meaning within the hands of Fate."
"Kinda like prophecies?"
"In a manner of speaking," Loki quickly answered Coulson's question before Thor could continue, "and some are less happy with their fates than others."
"Obviously," Thor rolled his eyes. "I was about to say that, Loki."
"I was not certain how much you were paying attention in class," Loki shot back a little snidely. "I remember you skipping out on class quite a bit."
"I remember you shunting some of your stabling duties off on poor Haval more than once or twice-"
"That would have been your fault-"
"Ah! So it is my fault?" Thor protested.
"Never mind-" Loki waved a hand, catching glimpse of Fury's not so happy face.
"Never mind? So now you wish to change the subject-"
"Whatever the case," Loki explained hastily. "Some allow themselves to be defeated and succumb to despair. Others bravely face what lies before them. Others fight..."

A pause. Thor looked grimly as the video looped around again. The flash of steel, the glint of the blade, the shielding against the agents' bullets.

"Some take their stand on the edge of the darkness and in name of protecting their land, peer into the Void... and in the end... In the end," Loki's voice filled with dread and his green eyes darkened with memory. "In the end, the Void, their Fate... swallows them..."
"I would never have thought, it would be like this," Thor finally allowed.
"No one could," Loki stared down at the screen again.

He glanced up and met Fury's dark gaze.

"So you know who he is?" The Director's voice was hard.
"Of course," Thor and Loki's voices clashed.
"He is a Mage in the Mage's Court. A High Mage."
"High Mage," Steve said. "That sounds powerful."
"Powerful and wise and many-wintered," Thor said, glancing at Loki. "He taught Loki in many workings himself, did he not?"
"He is particularly well-gifted within mastery of the elements, particularly wind," Loki said. "He also has much experience in battle and worked alongside the other Mages during the wars... His ambitions were high. Perhaps, he thought once to take High Mage Agaeti's place at the side of Odin."
"Sometimes he would come and speak with me," Thor said slowly. "He had great taste in wine."
"That he did," Loki recalled sourly. "I was forever running about the southern farmlands filling up his requests before the holidays."
"A politician then," Fury said.
"A man with ambitions," Coulson suggested.
"Ambitious?" Thor mused.
"Ambitious," Loki nodded. "Yes. Rather. I suppose he imagined himself as the head of the High Mages once Thor came to the throne. There were rumors... but," here, he shrugged, "I never paid them much heed."
"Perhaps that was because you knew," Thor smiled over at his brother, giving him a friendly, rough shake and then stopping suddenly when he realized that Loki was still too weak to stand against rough horseplay.
"Knew what?" Loki blinked.
"Knew that I would choose you," Thor laughed then. "That must have really disappointed him, but Father and I had already discussed it and-"
"Pardon – what?"
"Father and I had already discussed it and it seemed rather obvious-"
"No, I mean," Loki suddenly found it rather hard to breath, to talk. "The – the part earlier... you said..."
"Uhh..." Thor looked at Loki sharply, suddenly wondering if the recovering invalid ought to be out of bed. "I said that you knew that I would choose you..." Pause. "You did not...?"

An awkward pause ensued as Thor realized that the suspicious blankness which had spread over Loki's face was in fact a clue in and of itself – a clue into the overwhelming emotions which Loki often tried to hide. Yet, Thor could read from the stiff way his brother's shoulders straightened, the way his arms tucked in at his sides and the small lift of his chin and tightening of his lips that Loki had been, in some way, deeply touched. Drawing his brother in with a quick embrace, Thor laughed.

"Idiot little brother," he finally said lightly, keeping his smile large in hopes of relaxing Loki. "It was always to be you – not because of Father. Father had all sorts of ideas, Norns know... but if I was to face my fate as king of Asgard, I knew that I would not be alone. Not fully alone at any rate. Was I wrong?"
"No," Loki finally said, eyes cast down as he struggled to find words to voice his appreciation. "You were not... wrong. I knew that I was to be an adviser, of course, but I had always assumed..." He petered off uncertainly. Adviser, yes, he thought, as younger prince, that would have been expected... but Thor was going to sponsor me – and I would have gained a position of respect... Regardless of the fact that I was not born Asgardian, regardless of tradition. Loki battled down a short disbelieving laugh. Just like Thor.

"Perhaps you will stand at my back sometimes as you have done in the past, but I would rather us stand shoulder to shoulder." Thor gave Loki a hard look. "I am not about to let you face the shadows alone."
"Well," Loki said finally, "that is..." He shrugged before adding lamely, "More than I expected."
"You expect too little."
"Bad habit, I suppose."
"Hope is never a bad thing, Loki."
"Well, we are going to need it," Loki looked back up at the video loop. "This will be difficult."
"What is even more difficult," Fury finally snapped, his already thin patience coming to an end, "is getting a piece of info out of the two of you. Can we put off the family reunion for the weekend? I don't know about you two, but I'd like to keep the damn planet together. If you two don't mind."
"Apologies," Loki said. "It is just that – It has been a while."
"And there is much to process," Thor added.
"His. Name."
"That would be High Mage Flarathir." Loki said, voice growing serious. "One of the five who rule the Mage's Court. An Asgardian warrior-mage with great powers against whom I have not been fully tested."
"Well. Now we have a name," Fury said sardonically.
"This is going to take a while," Coulson sighed and made his way to the door with the intent of getting more coffee.

It was going to be a long night.

-0-0-0-

In the end, the discussion was not as long as Coulson feared. Within two hours, all information on the High Mage and his abilities had been noted and recorded, motivations were dissected and modus operandi was calculated. Hill, at some point, arrived, went to bed and everyone was allowed a short amount of sleep, only to rise early and discover that Fury had set in motion a variety of smaller operations. Romanov had been dispatched to India, Coulson had flown to Malibu and Hill was calling in various units on standby.

Throughout the evening, the computers had whirled through countless pieces of security vid loops all around the world, searching for any sign of the intruder. Although there seemed to be glimpses of him here and there, nothing was definitive – and the appearances of the Mage Flarathir were brief and seemingly random.

Most of them seemed to be located in Europe. Two fighter jets were put on standby, ready to leave at a moment's notice.

It was not until early evening that Flarathir's image flared on a camera in Germany.

Loki, listening to Hill's short debriefing as they strapped into their seats in the back of the fighter jet, felt chilled within as he heard her short summary of their destination. A familiar place in another time, another space, he shivered, recalling his dreams.

Stuttgart, Germany.

[...and some...]
[...would rage...]

It was all going as planned. All as he had planned – all he had foreseen. And those whose eyes are blind to what must be will find nothing but a path of death before them. As the vision of the Other faded, as the connection with the commander faded, as the Mind Gem fell silent, Flarathir smiled painfully. How long has the dark been my only friend? He wondered. How many eons of shadow has passed? And now... we shall all join in it together as one.

Flarathir rose, quickly cast an illusion about himself, and looked about the underground tunnels through which his newly bonded followers bustled. A variety of white-coated humans, male and female, worked diligently under the supervision of "the Doctor". Selvigsson, Flarathir recalled. Other black-clothed and dark suited men moved cases, brought supplies, prepared for battle and patrolled the perimeters. The man known as Barton overlooked those activities well.

"Selvig needs iridium." It was Barton with blue glittering eyes which saw far too deeply for comfort at his elbow.
"Iridium?"
"A kind of rock is what he tells me."
"And where is this... rock to be found?"
"Well," Barton flipped around a tablet and held up the screen for Flarathir to see. "It's rare – but there's some under lock and key." He shrugged. "Like stealing candy from a baby."
"Hm. We shall need a diversion whilst you secure it, I suppose."
"Correct. And we'll need an eyeball." Barton smiled. "This would fit in well with your plan, right?"
"Indeed," Flarathir smoothed down his beard and smiled crookedly. "All falls into place. As it was meant to be..."

[...and some...]

As the ship swooped low over the open plaza, dropping Thor, Loki and Steve off, before returning to the skies and hovering with guns at the ready, it was obvious from the screaming and yelling panicked crowds that Flarathir had already begun attacking. Yet when Loki looked about for any sign of explosions or blasts, there were none. Nor was there the usual thrum of magick in the night air.

"He is coming out!" yelled Steve, battling against the onrush of tourists, dignitaries and locals as they streamed out of the white building.

The edifice, white and pillared, looked grand in its own kind of way. Loki, noticing the carvings, the vaulted roof and the odd juxtaposition it made of ancient glory against modern cleanliness, couldn't help but compare it to the golden halls of Odin Allfather's palace, the dark grandeur of Meerauk and Nyr-Meer and the graceful lines of Alfheim's summer palaces. He bumped into Thor suddenly.

Thor is... Loki paused as he watched his brother stoop down to pull a woman carrying a baby to her feet. A passerby no doubt. An unfortunate passerby.

"Run!" Thor was saying. "Get as far away as you can! Do not look back!"

Clutching her child, the dark-haired woman ran off, leaving behind an odd looking four-wheeled contraption which had no doubt earlier held the child. Watching the humans disappear down the street, Loki bit his lip and, at the sound of a dull clang, turned wide-eyed to find that Steve Rogers, whom others had referred to as 'the Captain', had engaged Flarathir.

Flarathir was a sight to behold. His armour, a light gold, flashed brightly beneath the lights, overlaying a light steel chain mail. Tempered, no doubt, by dwarves. The helm upon his head was rounded and open across the brow, allowing for sight as well as protecting the neck and head from potential blows. Beneath the armour and mail, the warrior-mage wore the usual uniform of all mages – the dark leggings, the blue and white tunic and dragon-hide.

Despite his age, Flarathir stood tall – and held his ground, batting away the Captain's white, blue and red shield easily. Ignoring the shield which now skittered across the grey concrete, Steve Rogers lunged forward, fists clenched and at the ready. However hard he hit though, the super-soldier did not seem able to phase his opponent who deflected each blow fluidly, whirling about with an elongated gold staff which seemed to be a longer version of the weapon he had carried earlier. Attempting an upper cut (which was blocked by a hand) followed by a series of blows which Loki identified as a form of boxing, Steve did not seem discouraged by his lack of success.

A broad shoulder jostled Loki and a familiar war cry sounded in his ear as Thor charged past, bounding forward to join the fray of battle.

Two humans versus an Asgardian. Loki's green eyes narrowed with annoyance. Granted they are... more than human – what can they hope to achieve? Thor must know. Or perhaps, Loki sighed, he knows the truth of it and thinks there is little choice but try... Though water breaks upon rocky cliffs-

Loki winced as the Captain went flying back, curling instinctively in reaction to a kick to his guts. Thor slammed Flarathir to the ground as the exiled Prince hooked the old mage's left foot and tripped him up. Flarathir rolled. Thor and Steve pounced. Flarathir gained footing and bent low, hands twisting in a familiar sigil. Loki's breath caught in his throat as Flarathir's dark eyes met his meaningfully, daring Loki to step forward. To engage.

Though water breaks upon rocky cliffs-

-yet the Earth, Loki thought, will not be moved.

"Back!" Loki yelled. "Get down! Get back!"

-0-0-0-

At Loki's shout of warning, Thor snagged Steve's arm, dragged his friend down and bent backward, narrowly avoiding a wide band of flame and a responding spray of white, cool ice.

"Get down and start crawling!" Thor yelled.
"Flarathir-!" Steve protested.

Another clash of ice and fire ripped through the cement blocks around them, scattering rock and shards of ice and flaming bits of tree. A car which had careened off the road earlier exploded violently. Dogging bits of metal, shards of glass and melting chunks of plastic, the two men crawled to the edge of the newly shaped battlefield and turned round to look over the small circle of devastation.

From the edges of the battlefield, the jet was firing blasts at Flarathir, but the pounding that the warrior-mage took showed no signs of slowing him down. The only thing keeping him within the slowly expanding circle of ice was the tall, lean figure of Loki. Hands twisting, lips rapidly moving for spell after spell, Loki edged round, step by careful step, meeting every blast of energy which Flarathir sent his way. Loki's long dark hair flew back as the atmosphere about them rose in tension, as clouds churned and a storm rumbled. Pale face set in determination and green eyes glowing with his inner fire, Thor sighed with relief. Loki is back, officially.

"Rule Number Three," Thor said, ducking to avoid a flying chunk of ice. "Never stand between two mages in battle."
"We can't leave Loki alone!"

Noticing the slight cast of blue tinging Loki's hands, Thor's heart beat faster.

"No," he allowed. "We cannot. Not for long at any rate."
"I don't like it one bit," Steve said uneasily and his blue eyes widened behind his mask as a particularly large blast hit the museum, destroying half of the front edifice. "They're out of control."

Thor didn't appear too concerned about the destruction of the environs. His eyes were only fixed on Loki and only then did the tall, tanned superhuman appear to be worried. Steve sighed.

He tried again: "They'll tear the whole city apart at this rate before they're done!"
"Loki needs help," Thor finally said.
"Yes, well-"
"If he is to end it, it must be soon."
"Absolutely. The less damage the better – for all of us."
"He is restricting Flarathir's movements," Thor pointed at a variety of ice loops that were springing up and curving around the edges of the circle. "With chains. We cannot see them – but Loki can. They are represented by the ice. He told me once before about it... It has been a long time since I..." Thor paused. "But this is a risk. He can only achieve each barrier and chain between attacks. Loki will not be able to keep up with the concentration and power required... Not in his current state."
"So we dive back in," Steve said. "Help with the attacks and distract the guy."
"Yes."
"And we'll have to be careful about how we attack, I suppose?"
"The long lines of ice at the edges and the field of ice below must not be hit," Thor pointed out the ever widening circle which crept along grass and ice and concrete in elaborate swirls. "It is a manifestation of will. That is what he told me once."
"He's building it through willpower?" Steve's voice rose a couple unmanly octaves in disbelief.
"Yes. I have seen this before. On Gallei. It is a working of his own devising and suitable for multiple uses. Capture... or death."
"Death?"
"Hm. If Loki wills it, the bonds will tighten-"
"We don't want him dead. How else will we find the Tesseract?"
"Loki will not kill him," Thor said uncertainly.
"Are you sure?"

Thor said nothing for a short moment before slowly shaking his head.

"I do not know... but once the working is set, we can intervene to prevent further harm to the mage."
"Alright. So how'll we go about this exactly?"
"We do what I did last time," Thor nodded. "Dart in, attack, provide bait and distraction, dart out – but always ensure the mage remains in the circle."
"Okay," Steve nodded. "I'll follow your lead. And keep out of the way of the ice."
"Yes."

Thor unsheathed the sword had finally commissioned for him a few months back. It was a long steel and black affair – and a good four feet long. A familiar weapon for Thor, the sword had come into good use on a variety of combat missions. Steve had swung it about a few times when Thor had agreed to teach him a few lessons in swordplay, but in the end, the super-soldier felt more comfortable relying on his fists and shield.

Steve glanced over to where his shield lay.

"I'll get my shield and jump in a minute after your attack. As soon as I go in, you jump out. We can tag team him."
"Good."

With that, Thor was gone. Steve, running down the now firmly ice-locked road to where his shield stuck out of a large hedge, looked about for any remaining civilians. None appeared to be around. He grabbed his shield, pulled it on and raced back to the battle zone. Thor was yelling and jumping over the foot high swirls of ice at the edge of circle and dodging blasts of fire suddenly turned his way. Above, the aircraft hummed – swooping in and back as Flarathir fired at Loki and it respectively. Listening to the howl of the wind, the explosion of each blast and the vibrating thrum of tension, Steve waited a few seconds to allow Thor to jump in first and demonstrate his previous instructions.

Thor despite the obvious danger to him showed no restraint nor fear as he leaped at the mage, slashing down with his sword. Steve's blond eyebrow rose as he noticed that although the sword cut through the cloth, it barely scraped the Asgardian's skin. Although no actual cut was made, Steve noticed that the the force of the blow had caused Flarathir to stagger and that was distraction enough. With a short prayer, Steve followed suit.

-0-0-0-

There was no thought. There was no strategy. There was nothing but instinct. There was nothing but reaction. There was power, there was light and there was the every shifting tension of emotion: desperation, fear, anger and confidence. There was only him. There was only Flarathir. There was only the battle and the howl of a mother's rage.

The spirit of the Earth rose in complaint and sadness and rage as her world was desecrated by the darkness broiling in the heart of the battle. From far away, Loki could hear the others – the chanting of the stars, the whispers of the Void – everything brought so close to the surface of What Was, he could almost taste the purity and the power upon his tongue.

It reminded him of darker memories when the only hiding place left for him was within the Unseen. With each enchantment, with each spell, with each working, Loki could feel the pull in his gut. Every step, every sigil brought him that much closer to the brink.

He was going to be sick. But I can not, Loki whispered to himself fiercely. I cannot. I cannot.

He grit his teeth and he snarled and his vision narrowed to only what was before him.

...fear not...

...you are not alone...

Stars are poor company.

Was that a thought? It seemed impossible at a time like this. Yet Loki unconsciously knew that the force of his emotions – his fears and rage – protected him. They protected him against the pull of the Void, buffered him against the whispers of the Dark...

...fear and anger...

...double-edged swords...

Be silent, Loki cursed.

...cutting the soul of the one who wields them...

I do not need to hear this. Not now!

...cutting the soul...

...do not fear...

...know peace...

...fall back...

No, no, no... Loki grimaced as his foot slipped. It is almost done. It will be done. We will be – we will be safe.

...fall back...

...do not fear...

...we will catch you...

...as we caught you before...

Loki shook his head, narrowed his eyes and stubbornly held onto the working which now lay in completion before him. Somewhere around him, he could feel the presence of Thor and the man known as Steve. They were doing their best to stand against the mage. Mere humans – yet the power of their will remained strong.

Thor would never give up. Neither will I.

...back...

We are doing this the only way. With Flarathir gone, we will achieve peace.

...fall back...

...trust us, dear heart...

...let go of fear...

...let go of pain...

...ere truth will be lost...

Light swelled and for a moment, Loki could see or hear nothing. There was nothing but light and the faint chimes of resounding thin voices. He knew that within the great medley, there were billions upon billions of melodies each beautiful, each unique, each powerful in its own right. Within that world, he could wander for many years until, even though returning to the world of the Seen, he would never be the same. Like Hluti, his eyes would forever be filled with starlight. Loki shuddered.

Inhale. Loki drew breath and then let it go, his hands drifting downward in familiar sigils and everything contracted. Then there was a dim world which whirled about and shuddered and unraveled at the edges. There was the sound of someone yelling, there was an odd mechanical wailing, there was his own harsh breath, there was an odd blank coldness spreading through him -

And then there was warmth, there was Thor. Thor's arms about him and a rough warm voice which brought back a multitude of memories: the talons of a hawk, warm sunshine on a cool mountain river, a campfire and bottles of ale, Frigga's mint pudding and the taste of mud as the two of them struggled for dominance in the middle of a yelling circle of spectators. So many memories. They piled upon him like an avalanche of snow, weighing him down and allowing him to find some connection.

There he was. There was Loki. There was Thor, telling him to let go, telling him Flarathir would die and the Tesseract would be lost and they needed to ask him – Flarathir – questions.

Loki exhaled.

There was dark.

[...and some...]
[...would rage against their Fate...]
[...would turn back the sands of Time...]
[...they do not see...]

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, each droplet forms with others massive waves which may sweep away the greatest of things.

Loki being BAMF without being a Gary Stu, I hope! Let me know what you think! Feel free to ask questions or point out grammatical errors or what have you!

See ya round, guys, and take care!
-KI