He was then promptly thrown into a sack filled with the nuts he had partaken off before. At first, he was scrunched up on his back, his legs up and his knees practically touching his face. After a bit of maneuvering, he was able to right himself so that his head was up and his legs were down, sitting upon the nuts, though he seemed to be sinking with each monstrous step the giant holding him took. He had tried struggling at first, testing the sack for weakness and kicking out, hoping to hit the giant hard enough for it to release its hold on him. Consequently, any struggling he had done resulting in a swift smack that, although through the fabric, was sure to leave a dark bruise upon his cheek and probably a majority of his right side.
Eventually, he had succumbed to his fate and only squirmed every now and again to unbury himself from the nuts that managed to once again cover his legs. He had gradually started grabbing the nuts, nibbling on their insides. He felt that if he was going to die, they were at least going to supply a last meal. Even this got boring as time went by. It seemed he had been squished in the sack for ages. They would momentarily pause every now and again and a few more nuts would be tossed inside, most usually hitting him in the head before rolling to lay along his legs.
He lay one arm across his eyes. He had passed the phase of fear of death and the acceptance of it. He was now in complete boredom. Alone with his thoughts for so long, he had no choice but to try and evaluate his past, if he had one. It seemed the only thing he actually remembered was intense pain and the feeling of betrayal and intense sadness. He sighed before rubbing his eyes. As he was beginning to contemplate taking a nap, he heard the sound of numerous voices off in the distance. They must be nearing a city, he thought. A flicker of nervousness fluttered in his stomach before he quenched it. The voices were now around him, passing him. He could only catch a few phrases, most whose meaning was unknown to him.
They had walked for a few minutes more when the sounds quieted. They once again spoke in their guttural tongue. They stopped, and before he could get his bearings, the bag, with him still inside, was tossed to the ice floor. He toppled out, nuts all around him. He lay on his stomach, his head pounding slightly from the impact against the floor. He lay on his stomach for a second more before lifting his head slightly, his eyes immediately meeting the crimson gaze that glared down at him in anger. In front of him, upon a throne of ice, sat a giant that looked to be made from the frigid ice himself. Its eyes were ablaze with rage, the crimson deepening into lava, as if they could melt all in its path.
Abruptly he was grabbed by his cloak, still wrapped loosely around his body. He had to grab the arm the clutched him so as to not fall back down to the hard crystalline ground. The giant's second arm came up and gripped his neck, practically squeezing the life out of him. His hands had transferred to the hand around his neck, desperately clawing at it. As his vision darkened around the edges, the giant's words began to penetrate his thoughts.
"A foolish little creature you are." He paused his words, squeezed harder then continued, "To come here, after what you've done to us all!" He narrowed his eyes, "As ruler, I sentence you to death!" He practically hissed his last words, his hand slowly crushing his throat.
His hands had dropped, no longer strong enough to struggle. With his last reserves of strength, he raises his eyes, meeting the translucent gaze, remnant of rubies. The giant had drawn back, his grip loosened. As the black consumed him, he had the strangest perception of falling.
LAUFEY POV
He looked down at the boy, his eyes wide in disbelief. As he watched, the blue bled from his skin, shifting into the pasty white color he had arrived with. He knelt down and reached for the boy's wrist. At his touch, the skin surrounding the wrist he held melted into the light blue most would recognize to belong to the Jotnar. He watched as the powder blue travelled up his arm and travelled along his chest. As he observed, heritage lines began to rise upon his skin. Laufey nearly drew back in surprise. He lifted the hand that did not clutch at the boy's wrist and raised it to his face, pushing the black hair back from his forehead, his fingers lingering along the lines so familiar to himself.
"My king?" His head jerked up, locking eyes with one of the scavengers that had found and brought the boy. He stood, lifting the boy along with him. He fit in the crook of one arm. His face hardened as he looked down upon his citizens, their faces echoed in confusion. "It is of no concern." He angled his head towards the large doors as the end of the throne room, "You are all dismissed." He stressed the all, signaling for everyone to leave. After the populace had vacated the room, he took the chance to look down at the bundle in his arms, surveying his features. His hands shadowed the angle of his nose, the tilt of his lips. His cheeks were chiseled like the treacherous ice mountains yet familiar, as if he had caressed them time and time before.
Laufey turned and exited out the small door to the side of his throne. He walked down the hallway until he reached his chambers, allowing the two Jotnar outside it to open it for him. He walked in, acknowledging the shutting of the door before continuing. He travelled to the bed and set his bundle down, covering him in a dark grey fur. He seemed so miniscule, surround by the furs of animals that were easily double, maybe triple his size. He sat in the chair besides the bed and laid his face in his arms. How was he to tell his mate of this? How was he to tell him of what had happened to their little Loptr?