#they are LITTERALLY Promise by Laufey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

woodelf68 · 4 years

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Mornings

A loosely connected series of scenes throughout Loki’s life, from infancy through a future diverging from The Dark World. 9118 words.

(Note: Loki’s age in each scene is as follows, with the years being the Midgardian equivalents -- scene 1, less than a year old. Scene 2, 5 yrs. old. Scene 3, 10 -- picture kid Loki from the movie flashback. Scene 4, about 15. Scene 5, close to 20, canon Loki as seen in his cell in The Dark World. Scene 6, between 25 and 30, it’s reader’s choice as to how much time they wish to have passed between the last two scenes.)

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The querulous cry of a newly awakened baby rang out in the quiet of the room. From her position with her head comfortably pillowed on her husband’s chest, Frigga held her breath, hoping. Perhaps he -- The cry came again, more demanding. She huffed a resigned laugh and started to push herself up. “At least he waited until we were done.” Odin slid out from under her. “Stay; I’ll fetch him.” Pulling on the robe draped over the end of the bed, he padded across to the cradle on the opposite side of the room and smiled down at his seven month old son, who immediately reached for him. “Hello there,” said Odin, ridiculously pleased, as always, when Loki quieted as soon as Odin picked him up, laying his head against Odin’s shoulder and putting his fingers into his mouth to suck on them. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” He pressed a fond kiss to Loki’s silky black curls, cradling the boy against his chest as he automatically checked his diaper. “Yes, you are. You don’t keep fussing once you’ve got someone’s attention. Now Thor -- well, let’s just say that your brother was always a bit more fond of the sound of his own voice.” While he was more than happy to leave this particular task to Frigga or the servants during the day, Odin was not so incompetent that he could not make quick work of changing Loki into a dry diaper, as he did so now. That taken care of, he picked Loki back up and returned to the bed. “What do you say? Are you hungry? Do you want your amma?” He sat down on the side of the bed and passed Loki into Frigga’s waiting arms. “Hello, my sweet son,” Frigga cooed, bringing Loki under the fur with her and guiding him to her breast. That first day, when a hungry baby had been placed in her arms, there’d been no time to look for a wet nurse, and when Loki had taken the goat’s milk she’d sent for without any problems, she had been reluctant to seek out one, selfishly not wanting to hand him over to another woman every couple of hours. If he was to be her son, she wanted him to look to her for his needs, for comfort and nourishment both, and she knew well enough that there were herbs to bring in a woman’s milk, and had soon found a spell to hasten their effects. They had told the court that she had hidden her pregnancy with magic, lest word of her vulnerable state reach Laufey’s ears and make her more of a target for foul play with Odin and most of Asgard’s warriors away fighting in the war. It had been easy enough to add, to those in her retinue close enough to express concern, that the magic had delayed her milk coming in. She could still remember the fierce rush of satisfaction a few weeks later when she had been able to nurse Loki herself for the first time, her heart whispering “mine ”, that feeling of him becoming really and truly hers. Not born of her body, but nourished by it, and he had thrived and grown apace ever since. If there had been the inevitable whispers that Odin had brought home a war bastard, most died away quickly enough as all saw how she doted on Loki, and Odin had, fortunately, come home for a brief visit around the time that Loki would have been conceived. Loki turned into her now and she felt her milk let down as he began suckling hungrily, his eyes fixed steadily on hers. She relaxed into the comfort of the pillows and furs, running a gentle finger down his snub nose and smiling as his eyes crossed as he tried to focus on it. Odin lay back down beside her and gently took hold of one of Loki’s feet, smiling as the tiny toes curled in response to his stroking thumb and Loki’s eyes cut briefly to him before refocusing on her. “Who’s that?” she asked softly. “Is that your pabbi?” She glanced at Odin and Loki followed her gaze, his small hand starfishing against her. “Yes, it is! And do you know how you can tell, hm? Because you called and he came. There are not many who can command the king of Asgard like that, you know.” Odin chuckled and slid back under the fur, coaxing Frigga’s head onto his shoulder so he could wrap one arm around wife and son both and use the other to run his hand through the long, heavy waves of her hair, shining golden in the gentle early morning light that illuminated the room. “Very true. And two of the three people who can are in this room.”

Frigga made a contented noise and relaxed even further, letting her eyes drift half shut in pleasure. The duties of the day would claim the king soon enough, but in that moment, he was simply her husband, and a father, and she cherished every second of such times.

--------------- “We’re about to be invaded,” Odin murmured, hearing the patter of four small feet and the whisper of hushed voices outside their door. It was his favourite time of the day, that early morning hour when he lay relaxed and comfortable with Frigga and they talked about their plans for the upcoming day.

“One of the perils of having children.” she said, smiling.

“But perhaps also one of the pleasures?” he suggested, smiling back. “Admit it, you will be sad when they have grown too much to come tumbling in like overexcited puppies at the break of day on occasion.”

Frigga laughed. “You are quite right. I shall no doubt be proud of the fine young men they grow into, but I shall miss my little boys.”

"Should I knock? Maybe they’re still sleeping.”

"Knock softly!”

A subdued knock sounded on their door, and Frigga called “Come in!”

Thor and Loki burst into the room, still in their sleep clothes. “Happy Name Day!” they chorused. Thor held up the jar he was carrying. “We got you some flowers.”

“And we drew you some pictures,” Loki added, coming over to the bed with some papers clutched in his hand.

“Oh, thank you, the flowers are lovely! Place them right there on that table, Thor, and come show me your drawings.” She took the papers from Loki and patted the mattress beside her. Promptly Loki climbed onto the bed to snuggle into her side, a small, soft warm presence, while Thor scrambled up next to him and crawled over her body to plop himself down on her other side. Odin sat up and leaned over Thor to see the drawings as well. The top one was done in coloured chalk, perfect for capturing the texture of fur, and Frigga smiled as she recognised the black and orange patches on the rounded white shapes in the center, one large and three small.

“It’s Runa and her kittens!” She’d taken both boys to visit the barn cat and her litter a few days ago, instructing them to sit still and quietly and let the kittens approach them if they wanted to. Thor, ever boisterous, had kept fidgeting and whispering, but Loki had sat perfectly still, enraptured by the three small shapes, and had been rewarded when one of the exploring kittens had wobbled over on unsteady legs and had determinedly pulled itself up onto Loki’s lap, where he’d gently stroked it until it had started purring remarkably loudly for a creature of its size.

“Yes!” He beamed proudly. “Do you like it?’“I do indeed, and I love the flowers you drew around the border; they’re very bright and cheerful.” She moved his picture underneath the other one and saw what Thor had drawn. “Oh, Thor, this is really very good.” She admired the dragon rendered in Thor’s careful pencil work. “I should have you design a tapestry for me.”

“Really?” Thor sounded delighted by the idea.

“Why not? Where is this dragon flying to, for instance?”

“His cave, in a mountain,” said Thor. “And it’s filled with his treasure horde.”

“I hope he’s a peaceful dragon,” said Frigga. “I’d hate for anyone to want to hurt him.”

Thor’s face fell at that, as if he’d already been dreaming about slaying the dragon and winning some glory for himself. “I suppose he could be, if you wanted.”

“I do,” said Frigga firmly. “And perhaps he could have a younger dragon brother to fly by his side?”

“Me and Loki!” Thor enthused. “We could be the dragons! And we live in the cave together and go out and have adventures.”

“That would make a very nice tapestry,” agreed Frigga. “You boys could have it for your room.”

“I’ll start sketching it later today,” Thor promised.

“What about us?” Odin asked. “Can your mother and I live in your cave while you boys go out flying around on adventures?”

“Yes! I’ll draw you two lying at the entrance with just your snouts sticking out. You can be a gold dragon, Father, and you a blue one, Mother. What about you, Loki?”

“Green,” said Loki promptly.

“Well, I shall look forward to this epic picture,” said Odin, ruffling Thor’s hair. “It’s a very good likeness of a dragon, Thor. And I like yours as well, Loki.”

“How big should I make the drawing, Mother?”

“We’ll figure that out after breakfast. Speaking of which, why don’t you two go get dressed and ready for the day and we’ll do the same, and we’ll come collect you for breakfast when we’re ready.” She leaned first to the left and then the right, kissing the tops of her sons’ heads. “Thank you for the presents; they’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” Loki knelt up on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tightly. “Happy name day, Amma.”

Frigga hugged him back, smoothing a hand over his tousled curls. “Thank you, my darling.” She released him and he slid off the bed, giving Thor room to climb over her and follow suit. He leaned over to give her his own hug once he was on his feet.

“Happy name day,” he echoed. “I’ll help Loki get ready.”

“Thank you, my sweet.” She gave him a squeeze and let him go, watching as he took Loki by the hand and led his little brother from the room. She turned to Odin, beaming. “I think we have the best boys in the entire Nine Realms.”

The skin around Odin’s eye crinkled up. “I’ll remind you of that the next time Thor lets his temper get the better of him or Loki’s curiosity leads him into trouble.”

“I didn’t say they were perfect ,” Frigga said. “Perfect would be boring. And we both know who Thor got his temper from.” She looked at him pointedly.

“I feel like I should be offended but I know you’re right,” Odin admitted. “But if he can learn to channel it, it’ll prove a great asset in battle one day. And at least he got your sweetness of heart to counter it.” Odin leaned over and kissed her.

“Flatterer,” she said fondly. “And what of Loki? What does he have of us?”

“He has your sweetness as well, and your cleverness, and your sensitivity to magic.” Odin looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure what he has of me. My eyes, perhaps,” he joked. “Or my eye; he only ever saw the one.”

“He has your watchfulness,” said Frigga, after a moment of thinking. “He knows how to sit and listen quietly, and remember what he hears. And how to choose his words with care.”

“If he picked that up from me, then I am well pleased,” approved Odin. “Let us hope that he grows up with a taste for politics; those traits will serve him well.” He rolled out of bed. “Come, we had best bestir ourselves before our hungry young dragonlings decide to go foraging for themselves and leave nothing but crumbs and wreckage in their wake.”

Frigga laughed -- but she could picture the scenario all too well. She bestirred herself. ---------------

Loki woke with his heart pounding. Just a nightmare, he told himself, but telling himself that and truly believing it were two different things entirely. It would have been easier if he had been able to simply look to his side and see Thor asleep in his bed, but they had recently been given separate rooms, and he wasn’t sure, at the moment, that he liked it. He sat up, throwing back the covers and swinging his feet down onto the floor. He slipped from his bedroom and made his way across the common room that connected his and Thor’s chambers, the sky outside the windows lit with the brilliance of the stars, and quietly looked into Thor’s bedroom. Thor lay sprawled out on his bed, motionless, but Loki could hear his soft breathing from where he stood and was reassured. He retreated and made his way out into the hallway, and crossed over to his parents’ rooms, feeling the light tingle of the wards that, he knew would permit no one other than himself or his brother to enter once his parents had retired for the night. He passed light-footed through his mother’s weaving room and paused, hovering in the doorway of their bedroom, looking and listening. His parents lay back to back, his mother nearest to him, and after a minute he was sure of the slow rise and fall of the blanket covering her. He moved further into the room, just needing to be sure that his father was all right, too, before he could go back to bed.

“Loki?”His mother’s voice was quiet, sleepy, but Loki nearly jumped out of his skin and couldn’t help letting out a squeak of alarm.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

“Nightmare,” whispered Loki back. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Want to come in?” Frigga held up the blankets invitingly, scooting back away from the edge of the bed to give Loki more room. She bumped back against Odin’s solid form and he grunted and woke.

“Hmphm?” he murmured, still half asleep.

“Scoot back.”

Odin obliged, but lifted his head, confused, when Frigga followed after him and spied a black head silhouetted against the dim light of the room. “Loki?”

“I’m sorry, I just had a nightmare and needed to make sure you were all right before I tried to go to sleep again,” Loki apologised again. “I’ll go now.”

“Are you sure?” Odin moved back further on the wide bed, putting space between him and Frigga, and wished all parenting decisions were as easy as knowing what to do when your child came to you upset in the middle of the night. “You could come in between us, safest place in the Nine Realms."

Frigga smiled and moved back towards the edge of the bed, creating a perfect Loki-sized space in between them and lifted the covers higher. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Loki hesitated a second, then his feet carried him forward and he scrambled over his mother’s body. Up close, his father looked strange with his eyepatch left off for the night, but he had seen the scarred socket before, and he only glanced at it for a moment before nestling down between his parents and feeling his father’s arm drape comfortingly over him.

“That’s it,” Odin pressed a kiss to Loki’s hair. “I’ve got you; you’re safe.”

Frigga turned over and curled around Loki from the other side, letting the covers fall back down over them and reaching out to rub his shoulder. “Do you want to tell us about your dream?”

“I wasn’t in any danger ,” said Loki. “I was just...alone, here in the palace. It was completely empty; I couldn’t find anyone. But then finally, I found you. Except you were lying like you were laid out for a funeral boat, and I knew you were dead.” He took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the scent of her, and felt the lingering dread from the nightmare dissipate. “And then I woke up.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Frigga stroked his hair soothingly. “I’m sorry, what a terrible dream. But I promise you that I am very much here and alive and have no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.”

Odin’s heart ached for his son. It was a common theme that ran through Loki’s nightmares, that of being alone and abandoned. Sometimes he was someplace cold, and crying for help that didn’t come, and Odin knew the source of that one. Sometimes Loki was surrounded by fire, and Asgard was burning around him, and that one worried him. This one...well, he knew how close Loki was to his mother; his mind probably couldn’t think of a worse scenario. “No more do I,” said Odin, hugging Loki just a little bit tighter. He thought of saying something serious, about how he still had a good many years left in him yet despite his age, but decided instead on levity. “You won’t get rid of us that easily.” He tickled Loki’s stomach.

Loki giggled and grabbed at his father’s hand. “Good,” he said firmly. His father turned his hand, slotted his larger fingers through Loki’s own, and left his hand there, covering Loki’s reassuringly. Loki relaxed, feeling warm and safe and most definitely not alone. “You don’t think I’m a baby for not wanting to be alone after a nightmare?” he asked hesitantly, just to make sure.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Frigga reassured him. “I expect you’re still getting used to waking up alone in a room of your own, aren’t you?” She had often enough, through the years, looked in on the boys at night to find them snuggled up together in one bed to suspect that they had found comfort in each other after bad dreams. Certainly Loki hadn’t sought their bed in a while.

“Yes, exactly,” said Loki, grateful that she understood. “I used to be able to wake up and see Thor sleeping in his bed and know that it had just been a dream and that everything was all right.”

“Your mother and I are lucky,” Odin pointed out. “If we have a bad dream, we have someone right here next to us to say that everything is all right and that it was only a dream.”

“I never thought of that,” said Loki thoughtfully. “Do you have bad dreams, Father?”

“I do, sometimes.”

“What about?”

“The usual, I think. Losing someone that I love, being lost. Finding myself in front of a crowd of people and realising that I don’t have any clothes on.”

Loki’s eyes widened and he lifted his head, twisting around to look back at his father. “You have that one, too?”

Frigga laughed. “I think we all have, at one time or another. I used to have that one when I was younger, but no more. I seem to have grown out of it, thank the Norns.” Odin had handled that question well, she thought. Loki didn’t need to be burdened with the details of his father’s nightmares. She heard the first birds begin to call outside, but since the birds had gone to bed hours before she had, she felt justified in ignoring them. “Go back to sleep, little one,” she told Loki softly. “Morning will be here soon enough.”

Loki closed his eyes obediently, and she began to sing softly, the words of the lullaby unforgotten through the years. Frigga watched him, his lashes lying dark against his cheeks, his breathing growing slow, and even, until she was sure he was asleep, and quietly finished the last verse. She glanced at Odin then, to see him watching her, the expression in his eye soft. “I half wish Thor were here as well,” she confessed in a whisper. “Perhaps he’ll come hunting down his brother in the morning. Then I could have all my boys snuggled in safe around me.”

Odin looked amused. “Are you implying that I am one of your boys as well?”

“You are.” Frigga’s tone of voice dared him to say otherwise. “Mine to love, mine to care for.”

“Good,” he said with satisfaction, sounding remarkably like Loki had but a short while earlier, and closed his eye, a contented smile on his face.

Frigga watched her husband and son with a heart full of love. She should suggest that Odin spend some time with the boys tomorrow; both Loki and Thor were always hungry for more of their father's time and attention. And they were old enough now to learn more of the behind the scenes work of ruling the realm; perhaps if she framed it as an educational opportunity, Odin would agree it was worth carving out the time from his schedule. She found Odin's and Loki's joined hands under the covers, and laid her own atop them. falling asleep to dream of the day when her sons would stand side by side and lead Asgard into a bright and prosperous future.

---------------

“Loki! Why are you still abed? Did you forget that we were going to go hunting this morning?” Thor came bursting into Loki’s bedroom with all of his usual exuberance, undeterred by the fact that his brother was still, obviously, asleep, or had been up until a moment ago.

Loki groaned and buried his head under his pillow. “Changed my mind. Tomorrow’s better. Go away. I’m sleeping.”

Thor spied a familiar-looking book on Loki’s nightstand, the same one he’d been reading last night at supper. “Were you up all night reading?”

“What if I was? Some of us wish to improve our minds.” Thor was quiet for a moment, and Loki had the vain hope that Thor would go away and leave him in peace. Then he felt his covers yanked back, and squawked in protest.

“And some of us wish to go hunting with our brother,” said Thor cheerfully. “Come on, the fresh air will wake you up.” He took hold of Loki’s legs.

“Thor, don’t you dare, I’m warning you --”

Thor pulled.

There was a flash of green. It was followed by a startled croak.

Loki peered over the edge of his bed at the large green frog sitting on his floor. It looked back at him mournfully. “I warned you. Now hop along and stay out of trouble and I’ll change you back this afternoon. If you want to go hunting then, fine, if not, I promise to go to bed earlier tonight and we’ll go tomorrow morning.”

The frog tried to walk, one webbed foot at a time, towards Loki’s bedroom door, before figuring out how to manage his long legs and gave a short hop, then a longer one, and presently disappeared from sight. He was going to be in so much trouble when he changed Thor back, Loki thought, but some things were worth it. He wondered if Thor would brave going to their mother, or if he would have the sense to simply wait the morning out in his rooms. The first option would restore him to his own form faster, if he made it into Frigga’s presence and could convince her of his identity, but it also risked him being seen by a member of the staff and deposited outside in a pond. Grinning at that mental image, he pulled his blankets back up and let his head sink back into his pillow. He reclosed his door with a wave of his hand and sank happily back into slumber.

---------------

Loki lay in bed and watched the dim lighting of the cell brighten. Morning, he assumed, though really he had no way of knowing, would never see the sky again. How early was it? he wondered. Was the sky still pink and gold from the sunrise, or had it already turned to blue? The constant white glare of the cell bothered him more each day, made him long for the shaded green places in his mother’s gardens (he could not think of her as anything else in his heart), or the dim recesses of the library, lit by the warm glow of lamps, or the muted light filtering in through the curtains in his rooms. At first it had been enough to have a place where he knew he was safe, where he could simply let down all his defenses and rest without fear or pain. He had slept for long stretches of time, those first weeks, while his body healed, waking only to eat ravenously of the food that was delivered to him. He heard the rattle of a meal tray being delivered now, the curt “Breakfast” spoken by the guard before they disappeared again. He rose and went to collect the tray.

It had not escaped his notice that his meals weren’t standard prison fare, that there was usually at least one thing on his tray that was something that he particularly liked. There was always fresh fruit and juice for breakfast, and today, a veritable feast of a mushroom and cheese omelette and hot buttered toast and the spicy sausages his mother knew he liked, because of course it was her doing, he knew that much. There was even, astonishingly, a bottle of elven wine. the explanation for which was in the new book that had accompanied his breakfast tray. He opened it and read the inscription on the flyleaf:

My dearest son,

It seems cruel to wish you a happy name day, but I hope these small tokens of my affection will give you some pleasure on this day nevertheless. I tell myself it is better than last year, when I still thought you dead, and if you are kept apart from me, at least I know that you are alive and well. And I let myself hope that next year will be better yet, that something will have changed, for I refuse to believe otherwise. I will find a way to force it to change myself, if I have to. If you would only tell us what happened to you, give your father a reason to trust you again -- But this is not the time or the place to chide you for that, only know that when you are ready to talk I will be here to listen. And know that I will never stop loving you, nor celebrating the day you arrived in our lives, for you are one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. As always, I remain

-- your loving Mother

He cried bitter tears then, tears of longing to feel her arms around him again, and tears of regret for his lost life. He wanted, desperately, to see the sky, to breathe fresh air, to walk without coming up against a wall after more than a few paces. Would it change anything if he told? He tried to remember why he hadn’t, that first day when he’d been brought back and paraded before Odin in chains. Spite? Anger? Shame? To show his parents how it felt to have a secret kept from them? Yes, all of those, he knew, but were they worth it? Did he want Thanos to come upon an Asgard unwarned, and unready? He thought of the palace littered with bodies, of the palace empty of life save for the slaughtered bodies of those who had had the chance to fight, and remembered, with a sudden chill, the nightmare that he had had more than once as a youth. He thought of his mother dead, and not knowing until one day a meal tray arrived with plain prison fare, no special treats. No more books. Of never seeing anyone again except the guard who delivered the meals, of never being able to have an actual conversation with anyone again. Alone, forgotten. Except no, Thanos would not forget him. Panic rose up and engulfed him, and he reached for the wine, uncorking it and taking a healthy swig.

The wine helped a little, but he couldn’t truly relax until his mother’s projection appeared in the afternoon and the relief that swept through him almost made him giddy. He thanked her for the gifts, and was ashamed at how the basic courtesy made her face light up like the sun.

“I only wish that I could do more.” Her hand rose, as if she would cradle his face. Loki fought the urge to turn into the touch, lest the contact shatter her illusion, and allowed himself to imagine he could feel the warmth of her hand upon his skin. “Tell me what it’s like outside today,” he said impulsively. “Is the sky blue?”

“It is, clear and blue with a few puffy white clouds floating around. It is just past midday, and the garden is full of the scent of the roses in bloom.”

She seemed to know what he craved, and painted a picture of the gardens with her words that invoked all his senses. And when he didn’t stop her, she continued on with all the everyday details of life in the palace lately, what she was doing to fill her time and then what was going on in the greater Realm, slowly expanding his world. She took it as a good sign, that he was finally expressing an interest in the outside world.

Loki knew her time for him was up when she glanced behind her, as someone obviously came into the room where her body stood.

“I must go now, but I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promised. “Imagine me giving you a kiss and a hug, and I swear that I shall one day do so in fact.”

“Mother,” Loki said quickly, before she could vanish, the careful “Allmother” that he sometimes used never having become easy or comfortable on his tongue. “Thank you for coming. And what you asked of me -- in the book -- I will consider it.”

Her face lit up again. “I am glad to hear that. And I will never, ever stop coming to see you, not until the day that you are able to come and see me .” She held out her hands to him, letting him be the one to dispel her illusion in the little ritual they had developed, and reluctantly, he brought his hands down on hers, an almost physical pang running through him when there was no solidity of contact and she vanished in a shimmer of gold.

“Husband,” Frigga said cooly, turning to face her visitor. “What brings you here at this time of day?”

“Do I need an excuse to come see my beautiful wife?’ Odin asked, a challenging glint in his eye.

“Well, if you have no matters to bring to my attention…” She trailed off, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as she faced him. “I wish to see Loki.”

“Do you not already see him?” he countered.

Frigga froze, had he seen or was he only guessing? His face was that inscrutable mask which served him so well as king but which she hated to see on her husband.

Odin sighed. “I know you send your projections to him, you need not worry about that.”

Frigga relaxed. “Ah. I had wondered, but it seemed better not to bring it up if you were willing to overlook it,” she confessed.

“After that first time, when you didn’t press me further to allow you to visit him, I surmised that you had found your own way of seeing him. I know your abilities, and I know you would not let anything keep you from either one of your children if you thought they had need of you.”

“I would not,” she agreed, steel in her voice.

Odin dropped his head, half turning away from her. “I had no right to forbid you from seeing him in the first place. It was wrong, and it was cruel, and I am sorry for it. I wish that I had a better excuse, but in the moment, I was simply angry that he, too, had chosen to attack what he had sworn to defend. Jotunheim I could understand, to some extent, but Midgard?” He closed his eye briefly, feeling the weight of his years, and admitted the ugly truth about himself. “And I spoke what I knew would hurt him most.”

“Yet not sorry enough to take it back once you had spoken.”

“It would have been seen as a sign of weakness.”

“It would have been seen as a sign of compassion!” Frigga snapped, then shook her head. Anger would not get her what she wanted, she knew that much. “So alike, the two of you are, always knowing the words that will wound deepest."

Odin fiddled with a paperweight sitting on a table, a simple, smooth stone with a design on it that had once been painstakingly painted by a young boy. “I remember asking once, what of me you saw in Loki. I had hoped for a better legacy than ‘cruel’ and ‘obstinate’.”

“It is not too late to fix things, Odin,” she urged. “A wise king knows when to admit he is wrong, and to correct his mistakes instead of letting them continue unchecked because he is not man enough to face up to them. When has Loki ever responded well to harshness? Perhaps he would not have stayed so recalcitrant in his refusal to speak of what befell him if you had showed some sign of kindness when he was returned to us. Who knows how long he spent in the Void, unable to think of anything but the fact that he no longer felt that he had a family? That his entire life was a lie? Small wonder he emerged mad, if that is all that happened, but I do not think it is. He did not just stumble onto an army of Chitauri and decide to invade Midgard because he wanted a throne. You did not see his face when I had Gungnir handed to him; he did not expect it, he did not want it. He did not desire rule, only respect, to be seen as Thor’s equal, to make you proud. Would it have killed you to have welcomed him back as his father before you pronounced judgement as his king?” Frigga could not help her voice rising again in condemnation.

“Invading another realm was not the way to gain that respect, nor trying to completely obliterate one!” Odin protested, turning back to her in anger, then his defiance dropped away. He did not want to turn this conversation into a fight anymore than Frigga did. “Never mind Jotunheim, not now. As I said, I understand something of what drove him to attack it, and though I do not condone such an extreme action, it was within his rights as ruling king at the time to retaliate for Laufey’s attack on Asgard. But it is what followed after that complicated matters. I could not simply banish him to another realm to learn a lesson as I did with Thor because I do not know what lesson he needs to learn, and I do not know if that realm would be safe, and most of all, I do not know whether Loki himself would be safe, or whether he might attempt to end his own life again.” Odin looked at her bleakly, the memory of Loki’s face as his son let go of Gungnir and let himself fall into the Void one that still haunted his nightmares. “What else could I have done, other than what I did? And what would you have me do now?”

“It was not what you did but how you did it,” Frigga allowed, for Loki had been a threat that needed containing at the time, even she had to acknowledge that. “But as for now -- be his father! If you want to get him to trust you again, you have to show him that you deserve it. And you can start by letting me visit him, in person.”

“Why now?” he asked, stalling a bit but also curious. “Why have you waited this long to ask again?”

Frigga pursed her lips. “To be honest, until today, I have not been sure if he would welcome my actual presence,” she admitted.

“And today?”

“It was a good day; he was quieter, more settled.”

The corner of Odin’s mouth turned up. “Perhaps we should have sent wine long before this.”

“Do you know everything?” she demanded in exasperation.

“I wish I did. I would give much to know what happened to Loki in the year that he was gone. But do you not think I look in on my son every now and then? I know what today is as well as you do.”

“I don’t think it was just the wine. It had been opened when I arrived, yes, but not enough was gone to influence him in any way. I think he is just...coming back to himself.”

Odin thought of the way Loki had sat quietly and listened to his mother today, as he had watched from Hlidskjalf for a while before withdrawing his Sight and giving them their privacy, no longer the ranting, rage-filled man who had come back to them. It had been a slow change, but a steady one, and he thought longingly of the possibility of one day having his son back. Loki was not Hela, he reminded himself, despite their remarkable physical similarity. The Norns must have been laughing at him when they had sent him Loki’s way. A second chance, to raise a raven-haired child right. And he thought he had done so. Loki had not been molded for war, had not grown up without the softness of love. A succession of memories flashed through Odin’s mind. A baby, smiling and quieting as soon as he was picked up. A small body nestled against his. A boy trustingly slipping his hand into Odin’s. A young man walking with his mother’s hand tucked securely through his arm, love and pride in every line of his bearing. A son grown tall and strong, a son any man would be proud of. Had he told that to Loki often enough, or had he simply assumed that he knew, that that was what Odin had been saying whenever he laid an approving hand on Loki’s back or shoulder, whenever he trusted him with some matter of state, some diplomatic mission? Somewhere along the way they had lost that closeness which Loki and Frigga still had, and Odin had never regretted it more than when Loki had learned of a heritage which did not matter in the slightest to him, but had driven Loki to such despair that he had no longer seen a reason to go on living.

“Odin?” Frigga’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

Odin cast back to the last thing she had said, and remembered, Loki coming back to himself. “I pray that it is so.” He paced across her room, thinking. He was going to agree to Frigga’s request, he knew, but he wondered if he could get something more out of it. Loki’s refusal to talk of what had happened to him during the year he was beyond all their sight irritated him in more ways than the simple defiance of it. Nothing about Midgard made sense; was that simply because Loki had not been thinking rationally at the time or was there a huge puzzle piece there that they were missing? His instincts said the latter, and he wished not for the first time that Thor had managed to bring home the weapon Loki had wielded along with his brother, wondered if there might not be a clue there. If the Bifrost had not been shattered, he would have gone and demanded it of the mortals himself, and not taken no for an answer. Or was he simply looking for a reason which would justify Loki’s actions, that he might give him a chance to redeem himself, as he had given Thor? He nearly growled in frustration as he came up once again against his complete lack of knowledge.

“How much do you think he wishes for your company?” he asked. “Enough to finally tell us what happened to him in exchange for it?”

“I don’t know,” Frigga admitted. “But he did say he would consider talking about it when I mentioned it again today.”

Odin brightened at that. "Considering" was not "agreeing to", but it was the first time that Loki had even given them that much. “Then perhaps we should wait until he comes to that decision. If we give him something that he wants before he does so, it might remove the impetus to give us what we want."

“Odin,” Frigga pleaded, allowing all of her yearning to come through in her voice. “I have not been able to hold my son in over two years. Have not been able to offer even the comfort of a single touch.”

Odin hesitated, then gave in. “A week. We will give him a week, and if he does not say anything more about it, then I will go to him with my offer.” It was hardly any time at all, when Loki had held out this long, but he was tired of being at odds with his wife, and hoped this would help mend the rift between them.

“And if he refuses it?”

Odin looked at her face, saw the fear that she would be further denied the chance to visit her son, and felt shame that he was the cause of it. If Loki scorned him as weak for this, then so be it. He would make this one thing right. “Then you may visit him anyway.”

Frigga’s face lit with joy, and the next thing he knew she had her arms around him. He tried to get his arms up to embrace her back, for he had not been favoured with such attention for a long time, but she was already stepping back, her hands lingering on his shoulders for a moment while she beamed at him.

“Thank you,” she said with heartfelt fervour.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked hopefully.

“Ask me again when I have held my son in my arms,” she said, but she was still smiling, and Odin’s heart felt lighter than it had for a long time.

As it turned out, they didn’t even have to wait a week. ---

----------

As if thinking of the old dream conjured it back into existence, Loki was haunted by it again that night. Running through the empty palace, looking for someone, anyone, only to find, at last, Frigga, laid out and lifeless and waking to his heart pounding in panicked dread. And for the first time in his life, he could do nothing to reassure himself of her safety other than wait for her visit. When she arrived, he took a deep breath of relief. Only a nightmare, he told himself. But it was harder to dismiss when he woke from the same dream the next morning, except this time he had heard Thanos’s laughter when he had come upon his mother’s dead body, and impossible the third. He was too agitated to eat breakfast and paced restlessly until Frigga finally showed up.

“Tell the Allfather,” he said, having made up his mind that he had to do something, that if the Norns were sending him a message he could not risk ignoring it. If he could not be free to guard his mother’s life, then he must give up what knowledge he had that would allow her to be best prepared to defend herself if and when Thanos broke into the Nine.“That I will answer any questions he may have in return for you being allowed to visit me in person.”

Joy swept through Frigga. “He will be hearing petitioners now,” she said. “Shall I interrupt him or wait till he breaks for the midday meal?”

“Better wait." He didn't want his mother to leave when she had just arrived, and it would give him time to prepare what he was going to say, how much he needed to reveal. "But do it today."

“I will,” she promised.

------------

A couple of hours later, Loki came to his feet as he heard approaching footsteps and stood facing the front of his cell, his hands clasped behind his back. He tensed as he saw Odin, but his heart leapt when he saw his mother following behind him.

“Loki,” Odin greeted. “I understand you wish to strike a deal.”

“I do. I will answer any questions that you have in exchange for mother being allowed to visit me whenever she wishes. Inside my cell,” he stressed. When Odin didn’t respond immediately, he swallowed his pride and added “I swear I will not hurt her, nor attempt to use her in any way to escape this place.”

“I never thought that you would hurt her,” Odin admitted after a moment, and glanced at Frigga, then gestured towards the cell. “Very well. Go ahead.”

Two long strides forward and Frigga was deactivating the energy barrier that formed the front of the cell, one more and she was pulling Loki into her arms. “Loki,” she breathed out fervently. “My son.”

It had happened so fast, Loki hadn’t been prepared for it, and flinched back for a second, from the shock of being touched after so long without it, and because for so long before that, touch had always meant pain instead of comfort. He didn’t know what to do for a moment, but then her scent hit him, the smell of herbs and flowers and fresh air, that whispered ‘home’ and ‘safe’ and ‘loved’, and his arms came up instinctively as he wrapped her up tight in his embrace and buried his face against her neck. “Mother,” he said desperately, and then quieter, for her ears alone, “Amma .”

“I’ve got you,” Frigga whispered, burying her hand for the first time in the new length of his hair. “You’re safe.”

Odin heard them both, and relief and remorse swept through him in equal measures. Their son was still in there, still reachable, but looking at Loki’s face was almost painful. Whatever happened today, he vowed he would not keep them apart again. Belatedly he realised he had not reactivated the energy barrier and stepped forward to do so.

Loki heard the faint hum crackle back into life and glanced up, a faint smirk on his face. "A bit slow there, weren't you? I could have teleported right out of here in a second."

Frigga tightened her grip on him. "If you had tried, you would have had to take me with you."

"What an excellent idea, Mother," Loki said brightly. "Where would you like to go?"

She gave him an admonishing shake. "Don't tempt me, you."

"And yet you didn't," said Odin. "Perhaps I am simply choosing to trust my son to keep his word, that he will not try to use his mother's presence in an attempt to escape. Am I wrong to do so?"

Loki shook his head, and raised his chin a notch. "You are not."

For the moment, the mask was gone from his son’s face, Loki’s eyes wide and vulnerable in a too gaunt face, and Odin was reminded of just how young Loki still was. "Good,” he said approvingly. “In return, I ask you to trust me, Loki. Tell me what happened to you. Let me help you, if I can."

“I will save you time and tell you the only thing that you need to know. Thanos the mad Titan seeks the Infinity Stones, and a way into the Nine. Asgard must prepare her defenses and stop him from finding them all.”

Odin's mind instantly flashed back to the conversation that he’d had with Thor on his return to Asgard, when he had grilled him about everything that he could remember Loki doing or saying on Midgard, seeking some clue to his youngest son’s behaviour.

He had a sceptre, with a blue stone, with the ability to control the minds of others.

He was not like himself at all. He looked unwell, and afraid at times, and the manner in which he attacked was so unlike his usual style that I thought he must be in league with someone else.

I thought I was reaching him, when I asked him to stop and come home. For a moment I could see the brother that I knew in his eyes, but then he said that it was too late to go back, and he shook it off and went back to the attack.

A picture was coming together in Odin’s mind, and it was not one that he liked. Loki, his mind already broken, falling into the hands of a being of incomparable power, one who wished to escape his exile outside of the Nine. Thanos discovering that Loki had the ability to walk the shadow paths between worlds. Had the scepter truly borne a blue stone, or had it been a yellow stone concealed in a blue housing? Were the mortals the only ones it had been used upon? The Tesseract. Mind stone and space stone. One risked to gain a second, a ploy that had failed. If Thanos could break into the Nine, it would not only be the Stones he came after, Odin guessed, it would be Loki, for failing to deliver what he had been sent for. For he had no doubt now that Loki had been sent. A year gone, beyond Heimdall’s view. How much of that time had been spent in the Void, how much being broken until his proud, powerful son had been turned into a tool to be used? Had Midgard been offered as a reward for service, or had Loki wanted it as a sanctuary, a bulwark against the Mad Titan when he felt he no longer had a right to claim Asgard as his home?

Oh, Loki, Odin thought, his heart clenching for his son. What did he do to you? He reached out and deactivated the force field at the front of the cell again, and walked in to join his wife and son, meeting Loki’s startled gaze steadily. He had failed his son once, he was not going to fail him again.

“On the contrary, I think I’m going to need to know a great deal more than that.”

Loki, still standing within the circle of his mother's arms, stared. Odin had set the barrier to re-form behind him, effectively trapping him inside the cell with Loki. He would need to call the guard now to let him out. "Was that wise? Locking yourself in with a dangerous criminal? I only promised not to hurt Mother, you know."

"if I have been so poor of a father that I need fear attack from my own son, then perhaps I deserve it." There had been no threat in Loki's voice, though, merely a pointing out of facts, and Odin grinned mischievously. "You can try, though."

Unexpectedly, Loki felt the corner of his mouth quirk up, feeling oddly reassured instead of offended that his own strength and skills were being dismissed. He wanted his father to still be strong, he realised, wanted to feel that childhood certainty that Odin could fix anything, that he could handle any problem brought to him and make everything all right again. He knew that wasn't the case anymore, but still, if Asgard were to stand any chance at all against Thanos, she would need the strength of all her warriors, led by a strong king. And that king needed to be armed with knowledge as well as weapons, knowledge that Loki was tired of bearing alone. If nothing else, Odin could share that burden.

"I would not wish to upset Mother," he said diplomatically, and heard Frigga huff beside his ear.

"No more would I, yet I fear I have done so for far too long. But I am trying to make amends. To you and to her," Odin stressed. "Talk to me, Loki, please. Let me be the father I should have been when you first returned."

For a change, Loki did not feel the need to deny that Odin was his father, knew he could not do so with any conviction at the moment. If not Odin, then who? Certainly not Laufey, who had left him to die. At least Odin had been there, and was here now, apparently still willing to call Loki his son. Perhaps one imperfect father willing to admit his mistakes was better than none. The anger that he had nurtured for over a year fizzled out, and he swallowed hard. "What more do you wish to know?"

"Everything."

His mother's hand gripping his tightly, grounding him, Loki took a deep breath and began to talk.

-------------------

“Amma.”

Sif woke to a small hand tugging on the sleeve of her nightshirt. A pair of clear blue eyes beneath a head of tousled black curls peered at her from just over the top of the mattress.

“What is it, Ullr?”

“I had a bad dream.”

Sif yawned sleepily. “Do you want to spend the rest of the night with us?”

Ullr nodded. “Yes, please.”

He held up his arms to her, and Sif saw that he had his much-loved stuffed bear with him, a present from his Aunt Jane. She sat up and reached down, lifting Ullr up onto the bed and scooted back. Loki, who was always a light sleeper, woke with an inquisitive noise as she bumped into him.

“Mhm?” He rolled onto his side, automatically reaching out to drape an arm over her and draw her close, and came up against an unexpected shape. He woke a little more. “Sif?”

“It's just Ullr. He had a bad dream.”

“Put him between us, then.” He moved back, making room.

“Go on, Ullr.” Sif held the covers up. “You heard your father.” She smiled as Ullr promptly scrambled over her body and was instantly gathered in close by Loki.

Loki nuzzled Ullr’s hair, breathing in the sweet scent of his son and wrapping an arm securely around him as Sif turned to face them, letting the covers fall back over them, enclosing them in a soft, warm cocoon. Ullr didn’t seem visibly distressed, so either the dream hadn’t been too bad, Loki thought, or the memory of it was already fading. Still, there were words which had to be said.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”

#ficwoodelf #loki #frigga #odin #thor #sifki #a bit at the end #marvel fic #mornings

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fadingcoast · 4 years

Text

Death Of The Lie || Chapter 28: Firstborn

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism & @fadingcoast

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: Multi RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

Chapter 28: Firstborn

The throne room was in ruins. Massive pieces of plaster littered the ground, forcing Thor to step over several of them as he looked around. Dust scattered around his feet with each step, the eerie silence broken only by the occasional clamor outside the castle walls. A piece of his own face looking at him made a shiver run down his spine.

Staring up at the ceiling, the images of war and bloodshed, slavery and death, made his stomach churn. Hela and Odin side by side. The king with his spear, Hela raising Mjolnir over her head. The king and his firstborn riding into battle, slaves building the very castle he was in right now. Images of a bygone era of which he knew nothing but what he had been told by Odin.

It disgusted him. Not only had his father lied to him about Hela’s existence, but about everything they did together. Everything they destroyed. These weren’t images of battles against enemies. This was slaughter. Nothing noble or glorious about it. The taste of bile burned his throat as he imagined just how many innocent people had to die for Odin to build his empire.

It was clear to Thor that Hela would want to continue this bloodshed. The evidence lay before his eyes, in a mural of death. There was a reason why his father had banished and imprisoned her. If he was to right his father’s mistakes, he had to start with the biggest one.

I can’t let her sit on the throne of Asgard.

Thor approached the throne, seeing it in a new light. His whole life he had known he would ascend to it, it was promised to him the moment he was born. He remembered looking at it when he was a little kid, how big it was, how big Odin seemed to be when sitting on it. Now it was a symbol of his own father’s tyranny, and it nearly made him sick to think about claiming it. But he was left with no choice. He gripped Gungnir with a shaking hand and took a deep breath before sitting on the throne.

A low rumble of thunder reverberated through the palace, and it was the first thing Hela and Loki felt when they appeared in his chambers.

Thor.

Conflicting thoughts warred in Loki’s head. On one hand he was relieved that Thor had survived, but if there was one thing he knew about his brother, it was that he wouldn’t give up the throne without a fight.

Forestalling whatever Hela might do, Loki stood in front of her.

“Let me go talk to him.”

“No,” Hela said. She attempted to push Loki aside but he stood his ground. “This is my battle. You’ve no need to interfere.”

“Please,” Loki implored her. “He has to know the truth.”

Hela smiled at her son. “Do you truly think knowing the truth will convince him to step down?”

Loki swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Thor wasn’t the one to listen before striking. Even if he did give Hela the time to explain, her words likely wouldn’t mean anything to him. If a fight started, it wouldn’t end until one of them was cold on the floor.

Once again, he would have to play mediator.

“Just…” Loki sighed, knowing full well that soon he’d have to make a choice between his brother and his own mother. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t certain who he would choose. “I only ask that you don’t attack him unless he attacks you.”

Hela considered this for a moment and nodded. “I suppose that’s fair enough, it’d be a shame to have to kill him.”

As they neared the throne room, Loki could sense a drastic surge of magic coming from his mother, likely the result of her strong connection to Asgard’s power. She walked taller, with a more commanding stride and a magical aura that Loki could feel crawling across his skin. At her full strength like this, she could easily collapse the castle if she engaged Thor in a fight.

The air in the hallway directly before the throne room carried the smell and taste of a thunderstorm, thick and metallic and all too familiar. Loki nearly froze when he came to a dangerous conclusion. Thor had possession of the King’s spear, Gungnir. Which meant only one thing.

Thor’s power had grown as well.

“Sister.”

It didn’t surprise Loki that Thor knew of their presence. Smiling, Hela walked closer to Thor, her palms facing him to show she was unarmed. Thor stared only at her, as though Loki wasn’t less than a step behind her.

“I see that you managed to find your way home, princeling,” Hela sneered, stepping over the pieces of plaster as she walked. “Like what you see?” She gestured towards the paintings on the ceiling.

Thor gulped hard. He had hardly looked away from the image of Hela holding Mjolnir since he sat on the throne. Again his eyes wandered back up of their own volition, betraying his thoughts.

“Ah. Mjolnir.” Hela followed Thor’s gaze and frowned at the mural in disgust. “Odin must have told you you were worthy. He said the same thing to me.” Thor remained silent but his grip on the spear tightened. “Worthy merely meant to be useful to Odin, following in his steps of course. I did, for a while.”

Thor stared at Hela, his fingers gripping Gungnir until his knuckles turned white.

“Odin, as Bor before him, drowned entire civilizations in blood and tears. Stole their gold, stole their people.” Hela advanced slowly towards the throne, never taking her eyes off Thor. “How do you think this very palace was built?” She pointed up towards the thousands of slaves depicted on the ceiling.

Thor shook his head. “I understand why you’re angry. You are my older sister, after all, and you have a claim to the throne. But if you wish to continue what our father stopped, I can’t let you sit on it.”

Hela laughed coldly and shook her head. “I see our father didn’t spare you the lies.”

Thor clenched his jaw, casting his eyes around the room. Briefly he looked over at Loki, then back at Hela. “That’s in the past.”

“That won’t give me my life back!” Hela swung her right arm out to her side and a jagged sword appeared in her hand. For a second, her mind traveled to the last time she had been in that room, in that same position talking to the King. The day her life was ruined. “You remind me too much of him. Step down or I’ll make you.”

Hela pointed her sword towards Thor, waiting for his reaction, sizing him up. Thor tensed, posed to jump at less than a second’s warning. Hela noted that he had the advantage of the throne’s height, and knew she had to either lure him off of it or get close enough for the difference not to matter.

Extending her other arm, she conjured another long jagged sword. The split second that Thor was distracted by it was enough time for Hela to swing her sword back over her shoulder and spin around, releasing the weapon towards Thor, who had to roll off the throne to avoid it. The sword wedged deep in the golden backrest.

When Thor looked up again, Hela was right above him, bringing her sword down and ready to split him in half. Thor grabbed Gungnir and held it over his head. Sword clashed against spear, the clang of metal on metal reverberating around the room as brother and sister dared the other to take the next strike.

Hela brought the other sword beneath the end of the spear and swung it upward, pulling it out of Thor’s grip and throwing it behind her. Gungnir slid across the floor and clattered at Loki’s feet. Loki looked down at the spear, stunned into silence and frozen into place, unable to do anything but watch.

Before Thor had a chance to react, Hela’s hand was around his throat. She leaned up from the floor and slammed Thor into the nearest wall with a wicked chuckle.

“Wait!” Loki called, slowly approaching Hela. Thor cut his eyes at Loki as he struggled to break free. “He’s unarmed. This is your chance to tell him the truth and spill no more blood.”

Hela didn’t take her eyes off of Thor, but the grip on the sword in her free hand slacked until it fell to the floor. “Stay out of this,” she hissed at Loki, and she raised her palm in warning. “Or I’ll make you.”

Loki took a step forward and immediately met powerful resistance. Hela had cast a shield around herself and Thor. Thor’s feet were no longer touching the ground as he uselessly clawed at Hela’s arm, trying to break free, his face beginning to take on a purple hue.

“Please!” Loki insisted. “He knows nothing of what you’ve told me. What Asgard has hidden from us all. He must know!”

But Hela would not listen. Having Thor this close only made her resentment grow. Had Odin not sired Thor, her whole life would have not gone down the path it did. His birth was the catalyst behind her banishment, behind Odin forsaking her. A fresh mind to twist to his will when I would no longer obey. To his credit, Odin had done a much better job with Thor.

The massacre of Jotunheim, a thousand years of imprisonment, the theft of her own child and all the misery Odin put Loki through.

Everything had been because of Thor.

She didn’t need him, she had no reason to keep him alive. In fact, alive he was a threat more than he was an asset.

“Odin destroyed my life, and yours, because of him.” Hela spoke to Loki again, but her eyes never left Thor’s. “I will repay the favor and do the same to his golden child.”

With a powerful blast of magic, Hela sent Loki out of the throne room and locked the doors. Try as he might, Loki could not counteract Hela’s seidr. He could not open the doors, he could not teleport inside, and he knew any weapon he could conjure would be useless against the gold and steel. Thor would have to fend for himself against an enemy he didn’t know how to deal with.

Inside the throne room, Hela put her jagged necrosword to Thor’s throat, right above where her hand was crushing his windpipe.

“Send my regards to the All-Father. I hope you both enjoy watching me take his place.”

Thor closed his eyes and gathered what strength still remained within him. Tendrils of lightning sparked from his hands and he managed to blast Hela backwards. It was a small shock, but it bought him enough time. He didn’t have time to recover, and rolled over to grab Gungnir once again.

Just in time, as a necrosword was already coming down toward his head. He blocked the blow with the spear and spun it towards Hela, sending a blast that hit her straight on the abdomen and pushed her back several feet.

Thor staggered to his feet and braced himself. Gripping Gungnir with both hands he felt the spear come alive, giving him strength. Hela might have been Odin’s firstborn, but secrets or not, Thor was Odin’s chosen one. Gungnir would protect him.

Hela stood before him, a jagged necrosword on each hand. Her attacks were fast and light, as if she was performing a dance around him, and Thor could barely keep up. It took all his energy but he blocked and parried her blows with the spear, reflexes on point to dodge her attacks. His lighting helped, but as Hela grew more and more impatient, Thor quickly realized this was a battle he wouldn’t win. He had to think of something else.

Hela cornered Thor on a pillar, necroswords mere inches from his throat, stopped only by Gungnir in between them, preventing Hela from closing them around his neck.

“Yield, little princeling, and your death will be swift and painless.”

Her swords slipped further close, biting the skin of Thor’s neck with a rush of searing pain. A thin trickle of blood ran down to his clavicle. Thor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, when something occurred to him.

She draws her strength from Asgard.

Asgard is not a place.

You are a destroyer, son of Odin. Heimdall’s yellow gaze bore in Thor’s eyes. You will bring about Ragnarok. You will destroy us all and save us all.

Ragnarok.

The Skull of Surtur.

With an anguished cry, Thor summoned a storm. Static filled the hall, making the metallic structures crackle and sparkle. A blinding flash of light exploded inside the throne room, and the sonic boom of the thunder that followed sent Hela flying to the dais. The doors were blasted off their hinges and the palace shook to its foundations.

Stumbling to his feet, a disoriented Thor sprinted out the throne room. Loki was just getting from under the debris when he saw Thor. Conflicted, he decided to follow him, wondering about his brother’s plan. Why was Thor going to the vaults? When he got to the door, he saw Thor placing Surtur’s crown on top of the Eternal Flame and everything made sense. Thor planned to destroy Asgard, and Hela with it.

“By the power of the eternal flame, you are reborn.” Thor recited.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?!” Loki asked, stunned.

Thor didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed Loki’s clothes and slammed him against the nearest pillar.

“Make your choice, Loki. Ragnarok will be unleashed and Asgard destroyed.” Thor’s voice was quivering, as he found no joy in the decision he had to make. “You either come with me, or you stay and die with your mother.”

Loki gulped hard, and clenched his jaw. “Father taught you well if you’d rather destroy Asgard than to yield to the truth,” he spat.

Thor growled loudly with a deep disappointment written on his face. He threw Loki to the floor and ran out of the vaults.

Loki turned to watch the crown of Surtur. The flames engulfing the metal sparked the crown into life. It was impossible to do anything about it, no matter how powerful his seidr was. He could not stay to watch Surtur be reborn, he had to get Hela out of Asgard.

Back in the throne room, Hela was slowly gaining focus again after bashing her head on the throne’s steps. The first thing she saw was Loki sliding to the floor by her side.

“Thor has unleashed Surtur,” he said. “We don’t have time. We must go.”

To Loki’s surprise, Hela laughed as she slowly sat up to regain her bearings. The rumbling of the floor and the harsh scent of sulfur in the air didn’t seem to phase her. Finally she rose to her feet, her smile stretched unnaturally wide, and summoned yet another necrosword to her hand.

Loki’s heart sank, even in his panic. “You plan to fight him.”

“It is my duty to protect Asgard,” she simply said. “You must go.”

Loki shook his head. “I don’t want to leave you. You have to come with me.”

“Loptr,” Hela raised her hand as if she was going to touch Loki’s face, hesitating at the last moment. “I will always be grateful for these past few days. It might not have been much, but it was enough.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Oh, my son.” For the first time, Hela’s smile was not hard or forced. It was probably the first genuine smile Loki had seen on her. “You know the truth now, the whole truth. That will have to be enough.”

Loki clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. He knew if Surtur succeeded in destroying Asgard, Hela would die with it. And Hela knew it too. Part of him refused to lose what he had found.

Loki cupped Hela’s face with his hands and touched her forehead with his. “Thank you.”

Hela returned the gesture, her cold fingers trembling against Loki’s face.

“Go.”

Loki reluctantly took a step back and closed his eyes. He teleported to the rainbow bridge, where Thor and Heimdall were guiding the people on board a strange cruiser. He summoned a long cape and disguised himself to blend with the last group of Asgardians getting on board so he wouldn’t be seen or recognized.

“Heimdall,” Thor said, still staring at the city gates. “Where is he?”

“I cannot see him,” Heimdall answered. “Hela is the only one who remains inside the castle.”

A growing rumbling sound shook the ground, and the crystal beneath their feet began to crack. They had to leave. Thor clenched his fists and walked backwards to the door, as the last to board the cruiser.

Quietly, Loki made his way through the refugees, trying to keep a low profile. The cruiser was already airborne and soaring away from Asgard, but the echoes of the battle being held on land could be heard. And felt, as the cruiser jolted with each wave of sound that reached it.

Most of the Asgardians had gathered in a wide hall on one side of the cruiser, and watched the fight below through a massive glass pane. Thor was standing right in the center, body tense and jaw clenched. Eyes full of tears he could not yet spill.

Loki stood to the side, still hidden. In the distance he could see a small wisp of green light that he knew was Hela fighting the reborn fire giant that was Surtur. Several spikes pierced Surtur’s body, but they did little to slow him down. His obsidian sword slashed back and forth, tearing the golden palace to pieces. The fire that emanated from his feet spread unchallenged throughout the whole land, scorching forests, rivers, and mountains, and leaving behind rivers of molten rock.

A huge lance pierced Surtur’s neck, and his pained bellow was heard even in the cruiser. Loki allowed himself to have hope for one second, but then he saw Surtur raise his sword over his head and bring it down right into the crystalline heart of the realm, destroying the very thing that kept the land alive.

Every single asgardian felt it in their chest. Some even fell to their knees and silently cried. Loki saw the flickering green light of Hela’s seidr put up one last fight. Yet another huge lance was thrust through Surtur’s chest. With his mission accomplished, the giant didn’t fight back, and his body started to disintegrate into ash, raining down the blackened dead terrain.

A tight knot formed in Loki’s stomach when the green light died down.

The Realm Eternal was no more.

<< Chapter 27 – Chapter 29 >>

@nikkalia @xalgaliareptx @christy-winchester @silverhart93 @honeybournehippy @unseelie1963 @angryowlet @thelittlestlittlecutiepie @moonlightprime @velvetzybanshee @bengalaas @damalseer

#Loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki helason #hela (marvel)#Loki (Marvel)#DOTL #death of the lie #Hela fanfic #hela fanfiction #loki laufeyson

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 40 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella sauntered through the palace, bored and not in any form of mood for discussion. She hoped that she would not have to deal with anyone for the day as Laufey had felt tired and not wished to deal with the exhausting matters of court in such a state so the palace was not as busy as it tended to be on the occasions he did have court in session.

The fighting was still going. In one respect, it was soothing to know the lines of defence were strong and readied by the border with Alfheim should they be required. She, herself had added to it by going there and using spells she knew protected the Aesir palace as well as others to assist if they needed to destroy the crops that were growing in the area. It broke her heart to look at the now full and worked fields and know that there was a chance that they would have to be destroyed but she knew that they could farm more if required. If an enemy came, tired and hungry and ate, therefore replenishing their strength, it could be what would end their lives.

The requests were made to Asgard and Vanaheim for food supplies. Vanaheim sent what they could but they were shipping anything they had directly to Alfheim for troops there, something the Jotnar respected. Asgard, on the other hand, had been storing food for if it was required to assist Alfheim should the war take all of their food but Ella had written to her father herself, she knew how to word it and how to ask and sure enough, Odin prepared immediate supplies with a solemn promise of more should one single foe arrive on Jotunheim. She had a reply sent stating that nothing would be used unless required and if the war ended before it was needed, the Jotnar would ensure every morsel would find its way to Alfheim to those who required it there.

It felt like it had been going on for a year if not more. She felt as though everything was changing in Jotunheim, better as a result of having the power of the Casket once more, the longer it had to assist the realm, the better the realm bloomed but it seemed so odd, most of the men were gone. It was lonely. She enjoyed Greta’s company as often as she could but she found herself wanting to just stay in Loki’s rooms more and more, though she found it did not feel quite as it did before. The smell he seemed to have was long gone from the room yet she felt wrong not staying there. She tried one night but found herself quickly using her seidr to magic herself there again.

Men came back every so often, wounded or worn in some manner by the war. Most injured, it seemed, were being treated in a special facility on Alfheim being headed by Eir, the chief Elven Healer and Magnar, the most senior healer of Jotunheim, all three working to assist any being from any of the realms that required them there. Only those with issues that could be dealt with easier on Jotunheim were sent back. She had listened to what they or their families told the court of what was occurring on Alfheim. More than once, Loki, and indeed Byleistr and Helbindi were mentioned by those who returned before even Laufey could ask after them. Ella felt pride in hearing that Loki was both a competent and strong leader, ensuring he would ask no other to do something he would not willingly do himself but she found herself fearful that that risked him being hurt. She could only hope he kept his wits about him so that he would return. She had been relieved to have been wrong on Byleistr and his allegiances. But it was one matter she rather that she would be wrong about. Everything was odd with the situation regarding angrboda but it was salvageable. She knew that going to war and seeing that a matter such that, though hurtful and somewhat backhanded was nothing when you see the brutality of war. When the brothers returned, and she truly hoped that when and not ‘if’, even if Byleistr was not someone she was overly fond of because of his behaviour and actions to Loki, they would put everything behind them and continue forward for the betterment of the realm and their bond as brothers.

Tired, she avoided others and went back to the rooms, sitting amongst the items that littered the different surfaces of Loki’s personal space. She never touched a single item since he left, nor did she snoop any of the written items. The only items she ever touched were the books that were on the reading shelves he had more than once offered her the choice to pick from. Everything else was exactly as he had left it and she would maintain that if he was gone for a week, a month or a year more. Feeling somewhat down in herself, she walked into the bedroom and went to curl up in the bed yet she found herself not feeling comforted by the idea of getting into it. She walked over to the area where Loki kept the very few items of clothing he owned. Ceremonial robing and armour being the only items he had there as well as the armour he was supposed to bring with him but she had magicked better, stronger armour instead. Amongst all of it was a long robe, dark and fur-trimmed. She had noted it before but never thought much of it. Walking over, she touched the soft material for a moment before bringing it closer to her, noting that it smelt of Loki. She subconsciously brought it with her to the bed and wrapped herself in it, taking in Loki’s smell, using it to relax her into a sleep better than she had for a significant time.

Loki’s limbs ached. He felt as though they would never feel rested again. He could see the palace in front of him. He could see his home but it felt as though he could never be able to speed himself up to get there.

The war ended. After eight hard and brutal months of constant fighting, battles daily, their foes realised the Light Elves, Vanir, Aesir and Jotnar refused to bow or break and would meet them on the battlefield each and every day and with Thor coming to a breaking point and his Berserker side being unleashed, decimating a whole battlefield of foe in the process, the enemy conceded defeat. Luckily, Loki had noticed Thor as he lifted the body of an Elven child the enemy had brought to the battlefield to taunt them with. He noted the anger in Thor’s eyes but most importantly, he saw when the anger and other emotions began to leave them and when they became blank and his nostrils flared. With a bellow to get out of the way, the Jotnar and their allies did exactly that leaving Thor to destroy everything around him. When he came to again, it was Loki standing closest to him.

“My sister told you my warnings?” “She did.” Thor nodded solemnly. “Good. Well, not good. I have not done that in a long time. I thought I was beyond it.”

Loki could see his shame. He realised then that Thor did see the ramifications of his actions, even if it was only afterwards. “What we saw would provoke any bring into anger.” He consoled. “I will admit I killed with more willing than I have before today after seeing that child.”

“That gives some solace to me.” Thor inhaled deeply. “It does not stop me wondering if I will ever control myself. But thank you.” He looked at Loki. “For protecting our allies and for braving coming closer to me than even my friends to see if I had returned to myself.” “Just do not tell Ella. She warned me specifically not to.” “I will say nothing,” Thor promised.

Thinking back at Thor’s actions, however grateful he was that he did go Berserk, it scared him how strong and uncontrollable it was. But they were home now, so he needed to get on with life even with everything that happened. Assist his father with running the realm, and deal with everything that occurred as a result of the war. Vanaheim had planned to do deals with them, now Alfheim was adamant that they too wished to trade post haste with Jotunheim. They needed assistance getting back to normal after the war that terrorised their lands, they had so much that they needed to fix, Jotunheim was somewhere that could assist them so they wished to start talks immediately. He wanted nothing more than to hide from the realms. To go to his rooms and not see anyone for days, he wondered how long he would get. He did not think his father would ask too much of them for the next few days, or so he hoped. He knew they would have to explain everything but he still needed rest. He wanted solitude and silence.

“I can smell my bed.”

Loki looked over at Helbindi.

“I can smell it and I will not leave it for a week bar to find Greta and bring her to it.”

“What if she has found another in your absence?” Loki asked.

“I have little to fear, Byleistr was with us.”

The oldest Laufeyson growled at his youngest brother’s comment.

“Live with it,” Helbindi scoffed. “You will be the butt of such jokes for the rest of our lives, even if Loki is too decent to say it.”

“And you’re not?” Byleistr growled.

“No,” Helbindi looked him in the eyes as he spoke. “He may let it go but not me.”

“Enough, both of you. Don’t you think we have seen our fill of fighting? I never wish to see any fight again, especially over something so menial.”

“Exactly,” Byleistr agreed.

“If ‘Leist want my leftovers, then he can have them.” Byleistr stared at him in shock. “I am not bothered anymore. I have my mate, her race allows for more frequent offspring and I don’t care outside of that anymore. I will focus on what I am required to do for the realm and I don’t care who mates who outside of that. Take two mates, take twenty, I don’t care. I don’t care about pathetic menial matters any longer. One thing all of this has taught me is that there is too much petty arguing over non-issues. Between us, in court, between realms. We need to focus on more actual issues. Solidifying the ties we have now formed so that we are never forced to face something like this by ourselves, that is all I care about now.”

Helibindi sniggered to himself at Loki’s final comment on the matter, knowing that Byleistr would not say any more on the matter for fear of having Loki snap at him. He knew Byleistr and indeed his mates wanted to return to the palace with the rest of court, so too did he know that Loki knew this. One suggestion from Loki to send him back to the outskirts of the realm and there was a high probability of Laufey doing so.

The palace was nothing but dark shadows in the pale moonlight. The realm was asleep and personally, Loki was glad it was. He did not want a large number of Jotnar there for their return, he just wanted to go home, he wanted his rooms, nothing more. He was so relieved to be back to the cold and normal temperatures of Jotunheim and back to everything that was ordinary.

The palace was in silence and darkness.

“Where is Father?” Byleistr growled.

“In bed, like I suspect your mates are,” Loki replied. “As I suspect everyone is.”

“We should have been announced.” “There is nothing to announce. We are back.”

“We won.” “And to do that, we had to kill the most beings on the opposite side, that really winning ‘Leist?”

“The Brute did the most killing.”

“Prince Thor may have done the most killing but so too did he show the most remorse.” Helbindi pointed out. “I spoke with the portly one, Volstagg when we were both at Gravel Ridge. He told me that for all his bravado, Prince Thor does nothing but sit in solitude and contemplate his actions after a fight. He tries to condone the actions he has to do and if we are to be honest, we would still be there if he had not done the ‘most killing’ as you put it. He scared them into stopping and I am grateful for that. I am grateful to be home. I am going to take Greta as my mate, I am going to try and have a family and I am going to try and only have daughters so they never have to go through that, that is my plan for the next three thousand years. Maybe another mate or two as well, if I find any that suit Greta and myself.” “And if Greta has found another?” Loki asked.

“No, she won’t, I know it.” Helbindi shook his head. “She said she would wait. I know she will.”

Loki could only smile at his brother’s certainty.

“What about your mate?”

Loki frowned at his younger brother. “What of her?” “You have not mentioned her.” “Should I have?” “She is a duty, Loki is all about duty. Always has been. What is there to even talk about?” Byleistr commented. “I am grateful every day that it was you that the Allfather found and not me.”

Loki said nothing. He thought often of Ella but he knew she would not stray in his absence. Her sense of duty rivalled if not out-competed his own. “I do not need to worry about her seeking company elsewhere, she is honourable.” He commented. “With regards to mentioning her, I will repeat, should I have? Nor do you particularly care.”

“I like her.” Helbindi declared unapologetically. “She is jovial and there’s a streak of something you can see in her eyes, like she would be smiling at you while also learning the best way to strike you down without even noticing it until you see her next to you with a blood-covered blade and you realise she has slit the throat of a being who tried to wrong you.”

Byleistr stared at him in horror while Loki eyed him suspiciously. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Byleistr looked appalled at Loki. “How are you not disputing such a statement?” “Because it is entirely true. Have you not realised my mate is incredibly adept at such things? You told me yourself that she entered the palace without alerting you until she was in it by calling your name and that she swore to force you to come back if you did not do so willingly. I have seen her do things that would very much confirm that to be an accurate analysis, what worries me is how ‘Bind knows.” “As I said, I spoke with the Aesir when we were waiting.” Helbindi shrugged.

With references to Ella, Loki felt even more in want of going into the palace. His pace hastened slightly and he made his way to it, relieved when it was no longer soft snow but hard ice of the steps to it under his feet.

They made their way through the halls swiftly enough before coming to the royal wing.

“Will we tell Father?” Helbindi asked.

“No, let him rest. We shall see him in the morning.” Loki stated, knowing from the reports through their time away that their father was weary. “Go, get some rest.” He urged before heading to his own rooms. He inhaled deeply and opened the door.

On walking in, it felt peculiar. Similar but different all at once. Everything was exactly as he left it the day he left, except there were a few pieces added too. Walking through everything, he noted that there was something else different in his personal space, something felt slightly off. He opened his bedroom door and noted that there seemed to be a momentary green spark as he did so. He was unsurprised when Ella sat up in the bed looking concerned. For a moment, she looked at him tiredly before her eyes widened.

“Loki?” “Hello.”

“You…”

If he was honest, Loki was slightly taken back by the genuine smile on her face. “It’s over.” With a small laugh of relief, she beamed back at him. Loki shed off the armour on his body and got into the bed on his side. “Why are you in my cape?” “I am cold.” “You never get cold.” He eyed her worriedly.

“I am not as good at regulating my body temperature recently so I get cold from time to time,” She explained. “And it reminds me of you.” “Have you even seen me in it?”

“Twice.”

Too tired to care too greatly, Loki sighed and lay back before groaning. “I missed this bed.”

“Get some rest,” Ella urged settling to get comfortable again.

Loki noted the peculiar night garment she was donning, it looked ridiculous and shapeless, but since she stated she was cold, he thought little of it. He had honestly thought he would be bothered or at best, simply non-plussed with having to share his rooms with her again after such a situation. He had been thinking that he would ask her to give him some space for a day or two. But now he felt entirely different, as though it felt unnatural to not have her there, as though he needed to protect her. He could not help but feel like the only place she should be was beside him, under his watchful eye and it felt peculiar to him to think such.

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #chapter 40 #Pride and Prejudice #wolfpawn

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wolfpawn · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 40

Story Summary - Based on an idea I had that I submitted to Imagine Loki. Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.

Chapter Summary - War takes time and tolls on any being. With eight months of fighting, it all comes to an end and a relieved Loki returns to Jotunheim.

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“My sister told you my warnings?” “She did.” Thor nodded solemnly. “Good. Well, not good. I have not done that in a long time. I thought I was beyond it.”

“I can smell my bed.”

Loki looked over at Helbindi.

“I can smell it and I will not leave it for a week bar to find Greta and bring her to it.”

“What if she has found another in your absence?” Loki asked.

“I have little to fear, Byleistr was with us.”

The oldest Laufeyson growled at his youngest brother’s comment.

“Live with it,” Helbindi scoffed. “You will be the butt of such jokes for the rest of our lives, even if Loki is too decent to say it.”

“And you’re not?” Byleistr growled.

“No,” Helbindi looked him in the eyes as he spoke. “He may let it go but not me.”

“Enough, both of you. Don’t you think we have seen our fill of fighting? I never wish to see any fight again, especially over something so menial.”

“Exactly,” Byleistr agreed.

The palace was in silence and darkness.

“Where is Father?” Byleistr growled.

“In bed, like I suspect your mates are,” Loki replied. “As I suspect everyone is.”

“We should have been announced.” “There is nothing to announce. We are back.”

“We won.” “And to do that, we had to kill the most beings on the opposite side, that really winning ‘Leist?”

“The Brute did the most killing.”

“No, she won’t, I know it.” Helbindi shook his head. “She said she would wait. I know she will.”

Loki could only smile at his brother’s certainty.

“What about your mate?”

Byleistr stared at him in horror while Loki eyed him suspiciously. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

They made their way through the halls swiftly enough before coming to the royal wing.

“Will we tell Father?” Helbindi asked.

“Loki?” “Hello.”

“You…”

“I am not as good at regulating my body temperature recently so I get cold from time to time,” She explained. “And it reminds me of you.” “Have you even seen me in it?”

“Twice.”

Too tired to care too greatly, Loki sighed and lay back before groaning. “I missed this bed.”

“Get some rest,” Ella urged settling to get comfortable again.

#pride and prejudice #chapter 40 #wolfpawn #loki fic

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wickednerdery · 6 years

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Title: FrostBitten: On Thin Ice Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Loki x Reader (& Jotun!OC) Rating: Mature Summary: “You’re sick.” Notes: This is a series/multi-chapter fic - Masterlist Here. Ulfr is a Frost Giant, more clearly so than Loki, and “played” by Lee Pace. This piece goes back an forth between Loki/Reader and Ulfr with each line designating a switch in focus. The whole thing in general is dark, this one’s mostly just angst with a bit of murdery violence…For consistency and length it gets a “Read More”.

Loki returns to his quarters satisfied. By tomorrow you will surely be gone and all will be right once more. Ulfr will be without your distractions and so will he. Free from your amusing boldness, foolishly soft looks, and that naive belief he’s good. Loki hasn’t been good a day in his life, he was born wrong. Born to be wicked, manipulative, cruel. Loki was born a monster, just as his second-in-command was, and no sweet smelling Midgardian with gentle eyes will change that..

That strange feeling of weakness you give him crawls back inside as he sleeps. Starting at the base of his skull, spreading down spine in a shiver, across face in an unsteadiness of lip and tearing of eyes. His dreams go from that of rule to ruin. Himself on high dragged into darkness, through pains unknown, as fire and ice scorch his skin. His dozing form fights, seizes, as the sensation takes over his body.

Ulfr did his research long ago - location, routes, codes, risks - it’s just the ability to pull it all off he’s been waiting on. He looks down at his sleeping body, then his own projection. It isn’t perfect with its slight transparency and wavering features, but with the pressure on from Loki he doesn’t have an option. It will fool a Midgardian well enough, he supposes. Calculating the time he has, the time it’ll take, Ulfr moves to act.

With long, sure, strides he makes his way to the section of the building-come-palace where the Hunters lived. Hunters: those sent in search of whatever their king’s whims decides, including men and women to be used as Loki wishes. Those like Jacob, who purchased you and whose wall Ulfr simply walks through now.

Two birds, one stone.

The god stares at your door numbly before shocked confusion blinks into him. How did he get here? What possibly drove him and how could he not recall the walk? Was this you? Did you draw him in? How?!

‘I know there’s a good king, a good man, in you Loki…’

How dare you unravel him with your stupid, foolish, words! He will not be controlled by some pathetic little Midgardian. He will not fold to something he can crush under his boot. That is not, cannot, be how this goes!

Loki is a good king because he is not a good man. Like Laufey, like Odin, like others...even the Mad Titan. He’s feared, followed obediently. No one dares betray him. Not even by those who might still be capable. Everyone’s loyalty is unwavering because they understand what will happen if they step out of line. What Loki, King of Midgard, will do to them.

You, with your weak Midgardian mind, simply don’t understand, can’t comprehend the danger as it stands before you. If you did you’d clearly not show any hope, any kindness towards him. Kings have no need for kindness; it’s better to be feared than loved. He needs to make things clearer for you, obviously you won’t understand until it’s made plain.

He looks at the man with a vague sort of hate, willing Jacob to wake until he does. Ulfr smiles faintly as the Midgardian stares dumbly. A finger to his lips, then a crook of two, and the Frost Giant has the mortal following him almost without thought.

Careful to offer Jacob first passage through doorways, to suggest to him the elevator code, Ulfr hides his astral projection as reality. Down halls, down floors, all the way down to the former heart of Stark Industries. As elevator dings open Ulfr leaves lingering instructions in Jacob’s mind before bringing himself back to his body.

Jacob steps out into the lab alone. The place is dark, littered with tools, bits of metal, and unfinished or destroyed projects. It’s awesome and awful both, realizing he’s in the workshop of the late Iron Man. He turns to ask what this is all about, but there’s nothing, no one, there. “The fuck?” He mutters, facilitating between shock and confusion.

There’s a faint blue glow in a room beyond the main area and it draws him forward. That’s where he’s supposed to go, what’s in there is what he’s to see. A great secret, an immense power, that calls to him as much as Ulfr’s memory pushes him.

He passes smashed screens and broken bits of robot, sketches and models, before reaching the glass-walled office. Inside is Tony’s dead heart - the arch reactor gone inert - and Loki’s false beating one in a glowing, blue, box. It brightens, lighting the room and beyond, as it seems to call Jacob like a moth to a flame.

That nightmare shiver comes back when Loki’s eyes land on the ring of bruises around your neck in the shape of his hands. It seems unduly harsh to him now; now that your mouth is still, your tears slipping out and down your face. Now that he sees you shiver, shake, whimper, and writhe in your sleep just as he does in his.

“P-P-Please...” you croak out under your breath. “Sssstop-p-p...” your voice breaks apart into a weep.

He thinks to wake you from the terror, to kill that pitiful expression, but then realizes waking to him will only make it worse. Even if a good king, he’s surely a terrible creature. Loki sighs, turns out to leave you be.

“NO!” You startle awake before senses catch up to body and you groan in pain. Breath shudders out as you spot the god come to get his due. You made him feel; he’s about to make you wish you can’t. Swallowing dried blood and decency in favor of wanting it over you cast gaze down. Once he has you to his satisfaction maybe you can return to sleep. Or die. Either way, it will surely be over quicker if you don’t fight anymore. You work shaky limbs to begin disrobing.

“No.” Loki’s voice vibrates insecurity through the silence as he turns back to you. Your eyes are wide with surprise, confusion. “Why do you think me a good man?”

This is why he crept into your room? You almost wished it was just to have his way with you so he could do it and leave. Muscles ache in your shift, head spins as you rest against the wall for support. “Because you go out of your way to prove you’re not.”

With long, swift, strides Ulfr heads directly to Stark’s former workshop with unwavering determination. He rides the elevator, humming, singing. “Stop, drop, shut 'em down, open up shop...Oh, no...That's how Ruff Ryders roll...”

At the ding Ulfr continues on towards the back of the lab where The Tesseract is tucked safely away...or was. Now the office is unlocked, wide open, and the powerful weapon exposed to anyone who wishes to take it. Jacob wears a spare pair of Stark’s work-gloves in another foolish attempt to touch the cube. He doesn’t get the chance as, in five steps, Ulfr reaches him. The Frost Giant lifts him off the floor with a single hand, then slams him to the floor like a rag doll. The man kicks up, attempts to escape the burning-cold, but it’s no use. A flick of the wrist and Ulfr snaps necrotic neck like a toothpick before kicking body through the plate glass and into decommissioned Iron Suits at the other end of the lab.

Ulfr smirks at a plan setting perfectly into place. Those watching - The Chitauri, Thanos’ men, perhaps Thanos himself - will see exactly what he wants them to. The Tesseract left unprotected; their greatest desire, the thing Loki promised to keep safe while attempting to find more Stones for them, left in the open for any pathetic mortal to stumble upon and attempt to touch with their nasty, unworthy, hands.

Red eyes shine as they crawl back to The Tesseract. Ulfr only glimpsed it prior, watched as Loki tucked it away, but otherwise he had no interaction with it. Loki made sure to keep it out of his range; out of everyone’s range save his own. While the effort to figure out where it was hidden proved minimal, it took more to decipher Loki’s complex security codes. The greatest effort taken was in patience though...all that waiting and now here Ulfr stands before The Cube and its immense power.

It seems to call to him...

“I’ve considered having Ulfr rape you to death tomorrow, you know.” It’s almost said with pride; you roll your eyes with a sigh as he proves your point. “Did you hear me, Midgardian?”

“Yes.”

“Well? Don’t you have anything to...say?”

You shrug.

Loki’s frustration makes him scream. "You are the most foolish Midgardian I’ve met!”

“You took over an entire planet and you’re here trying to convince one ‘stupid, fucking, mortal whore” to be afraid of you?!” You shift, crawl towards him in rage-fueled adrenaline. “You rape, strangle, demean, one foolish Midgardian because she doesn’t see you how everyone else does?! How you want to be seen?!” Fighting through arguing body you get up on knees in front of him. “A real king, a real man, does what he thinks is best and fuck everyone else!”

“Fuck everyone else?!”

“Yeah. Fuck everyone else!”

“Fuck you!”

Whatever your right mind might’ve done, it isn’t what you do. You slap him. Hard. Hard enough a stinging bloom of pain bursts from your palm out. With nowhere else to go but onward you slap again, then shove. The effort throws you off balance, you fall forward.

Loki catches you only to pull you into a kiss that you fight with a replied one. A biting of his lips, his tongue, as you growl. Hands once shoving now pull in, dig nails into leather, before you push away with churning stomach. Breath tears from your throat, tears flow from eyes. “I hate you.”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes are a bewildered green; he’s not confused in his statement though, he’s apologizing.

“You’re sick.” You sit back on the bed, unable to remain kneeling. “Whatever’s here, doing it....you need to get rid of it.”

The first touch is tentative, filled with wariness of pain, alerting Loki or others. The second is more sure. On the third time Ulfr lifts it from its cradle to examine. It seems to look back at him through its heart, its eye, the Stone itself.

Pure power rushes through as he goes from human to deep blue Jotun. The Cube starts to blacken his skin as he works to keep himself cold enough to handle it; frost crawls across the floor, covers Tony’s arch reactor, shatters the glass room, screens, turns suits to icemen. Ulfr’s red eyes begin to blaze blue.

“Ah!” He drops it in favor of his blackened hand as it splits at the palm. He examines the wound, works fingers from his other hand across to heal himself. A scarred line remains, disrupting the roots and vines of his markings. Feeling the power coursing through his veins he concentrates, tries again, and his hand heals completely, returns to blue.

Out of the corner of his eye The Tesseract pulsates and almost in a panic Ulfr returns it to its cradle. He immediately wants it back in his hands, wants more of the power it holds coursing through him, but he holds back. He’s already pressed farther than he should. Nevertheless, Ulfr can’t look away as the thinks to try something. He closes his eyes in focus, thinks of the spot in detail, and...

A rush of air and Ulfr opens his eyes back in his room at Stark Towers. He grins wide, amazed and thrilled both. He warms himself, the room, until everything is as it would be for any other person on this planet. Everything except his eyes...they burn blue, glow just as the scepter in Loki’s room and The Tesseract in the lab.

Loki’s look to you is sad, longing. “I can’t.” You hear his utter defeat as tears fall from jade and jaded eyes.

“Loki...” You start another approach before the god’s eyes blast sapphire and Loki himself seems to hold his breath. “Loki?”

“No!” It’s more a beg than an order and you want to ask, but....

He’s gone.

Okay, so lemme unpack this a bit. I think Loki’s sorta caught between the good, sweet, side of himself and who/what Thanos, the two stones he’s in possession of, and his own experiences (especially in the abyss), made him. That the reader might see his softer side, the side often buried even to himself, is a connection he is both terrified of and wants desperately. And, for this story, I have a headcanon that any infinity stone can both draw in and affect a person personality-wise with its power - especially if said person is power-hungry. ...And, no, I’m not going tell you what’s happened to Ulfr or Loki at the end, that ruins the cliffhanger, LOL! 😉

(Gif made by me via two gifs I found on Google; Ulfr’s singing DMX’s 1998 Ruff Ryder's Anthem.)

Tagged: @welcome-to-fangirl-hell @chibiyanai @wadeyouwitch @creedslove @lady-crowned-with-stars @moonfaery @annievvv7 @ladyfluff @holykryptonitekitten @lokilvrr @janebrownnie @lokis-little-kitten @alexakeyloveloki @theangelsfightwithdevils @the-blue-tiefling @lokis-lady-death @dangertoozmanykids101 @prometheasmother @vethrvolnir @wintertink @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @drakonwild @starscreamloki @helayes @hiddles-rose @the-lady-witchitery @galaxies-inside-my-head @jackheart180 @lukeevansandjdmobession…Thinks that’s everyone, you want on the list, just lemme know!!

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bakuryo-blog1 · 6 years

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As promised, for his birthday, @dellanfere gets a very special, Commander Cosmo centered thread. Here we go!

Commander Cosmo is a kitten I adopted through a website much like Craigslist, but French. He was a tiny kitten in a litter of approximately five fluffy boys, but he was the one that really stood out.

This is the very first picture I ever took of him!!! My best friend came with me to pick him up (I censored his face because I know he doesn’t like me sharing pictures of him!!!) and we brought him home in the public tram. Cosmo was very curious, he meowed a LOT but didn’t look particularly scared!!

Now you may ask, how did he stand out exactly??? Well, it’s all about his tail.

Look at that beautiful white dot just at the tip!!! It looks like his tail is a paint brush and he dipped it in white paint. Truly an artistic cat.

I shared a tiny apartment with my boyfriend at the time, and he got used to it very easily. His favorite place at first was the bed. Probably because it was rarely made, and therefor was a perfect playground.

I had two rats before I adopted him too, two brothers named Laufey and Odin. Sadly, I had to give them away to a loving family because I didn’t have the mental health required to take proper care of them. He was very curious of them for the time they stayed, though. Never tried to attack them when they got to play outside, either!

Cosmo, pocket sized, extremely photogenic, until...

Yeah.

He quickly grew bigger and became quite the troublemaker, and a bit of a thief!!

I brought him to the vet, and he met another cat for the first time of his life after being separated from his litter. This is the vet’s “mascot”, btw. She’s always there to greet newcomers. She tried to groom him, to no avail. (Also, all the vets kept commenting on how handsome Cosmo was. Damn right.)

Here he is with his first Christmas gift!!! My sister got him a toy. He actually came with me and my boyfriend to visit my family for Christmas. Then he met my parents’ other cats. Boy, that was a handful.

One day he started doing this and.... We knew we had to move out. (Feat my ex!)

Fast forward to our new appartment. Twice as big. He was a happy camper. Plus, he had an ACTUAL place to climb!

He likes being tall.

Had a hard time teaching him that no, ukuleles are not made for naps.

We were holding hands.... Shhh, he’s sleepy.

I gave him a flea bath once. He was unhappy.

But he forgave me after an hour.

Bought a clothes hanger at Ikea. More places to climb!!!

My favorite picture of him, ever.

He fell off 30 seconds after that picture was taken. We were on the 4th floor. Fortunately, he was safe, and only got a tiny scar on his lips!!! He was very scared tho. Didn’t let him hang out on the window from then on.

One summer my parents invited us to their house in the countryside. His first time discovering wilderness!!!

He also quickly became an amazing hunter, much to my chagrin. I didn’t much enjoy the dead mice brought to my feet, but he still got encouraging pets nonetheless.

When I moved back with my parents, I unfortunately, after several months, had to give him away, because my parents’ cats hated him, and it was hell for us, but mostly for him. I found a loving family, that became his new forever home. A couple with two daughters, who often send me pictures of him playing with them, or lounging around in their house. He looks happy where he is. I miss him very much, but I’m glad he is safe and well.

This thread is very long and picture heavy, and while it is for Nate’s birthday, anyone that enjoys Cosmo’s story can feel free to reblog it!!

#long post #cats

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storiesofwildfire · 7 years

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A BIRTHDAY ESSAY FOR LOKI

Birthdays had never been the best of days for Dahlia. She didn’t understand the NECESSITY of them since she considered her birth as one of the largest cosmic FUCK UPS ever. However, as of late she was coming to a DIFFERENT understanding. Her time with LOKI was proving to her that there were people out there that were a GIFT for being in her life. Never in her life had she imagined calling SOMEONE a gift.

Loki was different though, his PAIN felt as real as her own to her, and his FEELINGS did matter to her. If Mal was there he would call it LOVE. Even though Dahlia was not ready to call it anything. An intense case of LIKING someone perhaps.

This stemmed from her FEAR of not only being REJECTED but also being ABANDONED. Those two had been in PRISON a while and aside from Dahlia all Loki had was BEASTS and his books. A part of her was scared that she was only good in prison and now that they were OUT he would leave. He would no longer be her FRIEND.

These thoughts DID NOT matter today though. It was Loki’s BIRTHDAY and she wanted to do something celebrate it. Having him in her life was an occasion WORTH celebrating. So Dahlia went out to get her favourite ICE CREAM CAKE and some of those cheesy decorations and balloons. It wasn’t about any of those but she knew Loki probably didn’t feel the birthday love much. At a PALACE as large as a small city, even on a day like this, he probably felt alone in his own feast.

So what Dahlia was trying to create was a birthday that was REAL. She had even got him a nice birthday present. Well, to be more accurate she had STOLEN him a nice present. It was an emerald ring with a hidden compartment for poison. It was nothing special, museum said it was from CHINA and some bullshit dynasty that she couldn’t be bothered to READ UP on. She just thought it was pretty like LOKI.

Playing with the ring at her hand, Dahlia dived deeper into her thoughts. A dangerous place to wonder but she needed to go there. Her time PRISON with Loki had been transforming for her, she had never OPENED UP to anyone like that before. She had never felt like a kinship like that before. After they had ESCAPED, he had navigated them through WORLDS she had never even heard of before and she could honestly say that it was the BEST time of her life. Dahlia didn’t think Loki knew just how much she really loved SPACE. And she was lucky that her BEST FRIEND got to be the one to show her. Then he had taken her back HOME just like he promised, and he had STAYED just as he promised.

Dahlia laughed remembering how Ares hated Loki the first time. He was like a CAT and Ares already had prejudice against man. And even HE came to love LOKI.

At time Dahlia wondered what her life would be IF she had met Loki sooner. Would she still turn out the way she was? BROKEN to the point of ashes, with no hope of anything BETTER. Dahlia was CRUEL, and she was HEARTLESS, she was a DRUNK and a SAD FUCK. A part of her wondered could LOKI have pulled her out of the abyss before she had dived in head first.

COULD SHE DO THE SAME FOR HIM?

They were like those soldiers in movies, CARRIYING each other through a FIELD of BULLETS and BLOOD. No matter what could have happened, Dahlia knew that Loki was now a PART of her, and despite the way people often saw him, he was, and always would be, THE BEST part of her.

[I wanted to explore Dahlia’s relationship with Loki, as well as express just how much he really means to her. This is just a tiny window into her opinion of the God of Mischief. Happy Birthday Loki, and as the mun I am so glad you are here to give us more Loki!]

♔—- In truth, he wasn’t expecting Dahlia to do anything for his birthday. Why would he? He never even shared when his birthday was.

For Loki, the idea and concept that revolved around his birthday was such a sensitive subject. For years, he believed that he was born to Frigga and her husband in the safety of Asgard’s palace, but when he discovered the truth of his origins, he didn’t know what to think. Odin said that his birth parents–Laufey and his spouse–tossed Loki out for being a runt. Odin said that they left him to die on a frozen tundra without a shred of love or empathy in their hearts for him.

But Laufey accused Odin of being a thief and a liar. And Loki was left wondering just how much Odin stole from Jotunheim? Was he truly abandoned or did Loki’s adoptive father steal him from his real parents? Did Loki have a chance to live a happy life on Jotunheim with a family that truly loved and valued him? Would his life had been better if he’d been left on Jotunheim where he belonged?

Either way, it was definitely the sort of thing that he avoided thinking about and he often ignored his birthday altogether because it brought around such horrible memories and dark thoughts that once he gave into, he’d be trapped in for days.

At the same time, however, he found himself craving that sort of position attention, to make his birthday seem less awful. For people that he loved and who loved him to show that they loved him by taking something terrible and making it wonderful? Gods, that would mean the world to him.

Needless to say, when he walked into a decorated apartment that was filled with strange decorations and balloons and Dahlia sitting amongst it, he was left in a state of shock.

“What’s all this?” Loki asked as he came into the room. His emerald eyes couldn’t focus on Dahlia for long though because they kept bouncing between the decorations that littered the apartment. The only reason he was sure that the decorations were for his birthday was because one of the banners literally said the words ‘Happy Birthday.’

A small smile crept onto his face but his eyes were dancing with childlike enthusiasm.

“How in the Nine did you even know what today was my birthday?” he asked as he finally came to meet her gaze.

#( main verse ; pre mcu ) norsebound #c; dahlia #mxrdermystery #ask loki #loki #answered prayers #submission #loki's birthday 2017

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fadingcoast · 5 years

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Death Of The Lie || Chapter 21: Proud

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism & @fadingcoast

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

Chapter 21: Proud

Twenty-nine months.

Tonight the brush going through Sigyn’s hair was nearly intolerable. Gwyn was just as silent as she was, for the same reason, but neither could even meet the other’s eyes in the mirror. All Sigyn could muster was to stare down into her lap and twirl the gold ring on her finger while her handmaid brushed her hair to a shine, just like every night before. It wasn’t like Loki to wait so long to return a letter.

Not a visit. Nothing. Twenty-nine months.

Word of the unrest plaguing Asgard had reached Alfheim a while back and each day that passed when she heard nothing from him only made her worry about him more. Taking on extra courses at the Sanctum kept her busy between her royal obligations and, if she was honest with herself, she was secretly glad it left her no time to think about Loki.

Except during these quiet times at night, when it was just her and Gwyn and getting ready for bed. Then the worry and the fear would creep up on her like a dark shadow and it was all she could do just to fall asleep after drinking the mead she would sneak from the kitchens.

Tears burned at Sigyn’s eyes and she raised her head to look at Gwyn in the mirror before she completely lost it. “Gwyn, I -”

What she saw in the corner of the reflection would have made her jump if Gwyn hadn’t been there watching her. Standing next to her door with his hands folded patiently behind his back was Loki, or one of his illusions. Given that Gwyn hadn’t seen him in the mirror it was likely the latter. He looked different, the shadows under his eyes deeper, his body leaner but no less defined. There was something new in his eyes, something like desperation and determination at the same time.

Gwyn put the brush down on the table and smiled at Sigyn in the mirror. “Yes, love?”

“I’m ready to go to bed now,” Sigyn said woodenly, trying to hide her shock. “Thank you. Good night.” Obviously unconvinced, Gwyn kissed Sigyn on top of her head and left the room.

“You had better still be there when I turn around,” Sigyn said, her eyes on the illusion smiling back at her solemnly. She spun on her chair and sobbed with relief at the sight of him. Subtle flashes of green dotted the hastily-made illusion as he walked across the room to her, the smile fading once he was standing next to the vanity.

“I’m so sorry,” Loki finally said. “I don’t have time to catch up right now, but I promise I will tell you everything soon.”

“I hope you have a good explanation for making me worry about you so much,” Sigyn scolded him, “because if you don’t, I’m thoroughly kicking your arse the second I see the real you again.”

That made Loki chuckle. “You’re right, and there’s a good reason. But right now there’s something more important, something I need you to do for me.”

Sigyn went to hold his hands, only to make them shimmer. “Yes, of course,” she said, trying to force a smile.

Loki hesitated before speaking again, the illusion flickering with his own doubt. “I- I need you to-” He sighed, and had to stop and gather his thoughts before he tried again. “The library. History of Asgard. I need a detailed account of Odin’s reign as Allfather. Before Frigga, before Thor.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Sigyn frowned at Loki’s vague request. Asgard’s library was full of books - not as much as in the one her own castle, but surely there would be an accurate retelling of Odin’s early years as King. The Aesir were proud enough of him. “Okay,” she agreed slowly, “but why?”

“And I need to know the line of genealogy for Jotnar royalty,” Loki interrupted, ignoring her question. “Not far back. Just the last couple of generations.”

“But Loki, can’t you -”

“Just… please,” Loki practically begged, the illusion flickering again. “I swear to you that I will tell you everything when this is all over. But there are centuries missing in our archives. Empty books with the pages torn out. Whole sections of books with ink splattered all over the paper to blot out whatever it used to say.” His fists clenched at his sides and he began to fidget with his thumb over his fingers. “Asgard’s history has been whitewashed and I need you to find out the truth, Sigyn. My future, our future, may very well depend on it.”

Sigyn knew Loki well enough to know when she wasn’t going to get any further information from him. He always kept his cards close to his chest and he was not going to reveal them until his strategy became clearer. The only way she could find out what terrible secret he was bearing was to play along and get what he needed. Sadly she nodded and her hand reached through the image of his. Even just pretending to hold his hand was better than nothing.

“I’ll get it for you,” she promised, trying to keep her voice strong. “I’ll assume you need discretion, so I will come to you the same way you came to me tonight. Give me two days and meet me in your chambers at sunset.”

This doesn’t feel right, Sigyn thought as she watched Loki’s illusion fade into swirls of green without another word. In her gut it felt like a final goodbye, and she didn’t like it.

But it’s not as though I have much of a choice.

He was not particularly keen on having to put this weight on Sigyn’s shoulders, but as he kicked torn pages and vandalized books that littered his library hideout, Loki understood he was not going to find the answers he seeked in Asgard. Everything about his birth was missing.

I am not their son.

Not a single mention to Frigga’s second gestation, while her first had been recorded in great detail.

I am not an asgardian.

The other end of the room held piles of books of whatever information he could find on Jotunheim. The great war and victory of Odin over Laufey: How they drove the blood thirsty Giants from Midgard, forcing them to retreat to their own world. How Odin’s armies devastated the land and took the Casket of Ancient Winters for safe keeping.

Steal the power source of the Jotuns, for they are vicious, violent, and savage. They rape, and murder, and torture. They spread fear wherever they go. They do not deserve power, for they are malicious and evil. They are monsters.

I am a monster.

Loki looked down at his hands, watching the air around them condense into a heavy fog. The tips of his fingers were turning blue, the nails dark and thick. With a low growl, he let his magic explode briefly, sending the table and all the books it held flying to the nearest wall. His hands went back to normal. He knew he did not have much time, whatever he was going to do, he had to do it fast.

Loki walked across the icy surface of Jotunheim alone, his footsteps in the snow erased by the biting wind just as soon as he made them. His hands were two tight fists swinging at his sides as he approached the ruins of the Jotun palace. The guards by the door gave him a stony look but did nothing to stop him as he resolutely walked to the dais where the Jotnar King sat, glaring down at him as if he were waiting for him to come.

“Welcome back, Asgardian.” Laufey spat the words as if they pained him. “Or perhaps you expect me to say thank you?”

Loki blinked, but gave no sign of uncertainty. As Laufey paused, Loki took time to study him. The chiseled cheekbones, the high forehead, even the knobby knuckles of the king’s hands. Loki had seen them before, on his own body. Watching the rough patterns on Laufey’s skin, Loki remembered the guard that almost froze his hand. Their voice went through his mind again like a ghost. My prince? He wondered if those patterns the cold revealed were those of the royal bloodline or if all of them had it.

“You were the one who let us into Asgard.” Laufey stood up as he spoke, interrupting Loki’s thoughts. “Now my men are dead, and I have no Casket.” He walked closer and towered over Loki. “Why shouldn’t I kill you?”

“I’ve come to make you a proposition.” Loki spoke as steady as he could manage. Now that he was able to see the distinct features he shared with Laufey, he felt as though he was staring up into a mirror. How did I not notice before?

Laufey stood before Loki, staring, waiting for him to speak, and his guards closed in. Loki took a breath to calm himself down. Any sign of weakness and Laufey would cut his head without hesitation.

“I will conceal you and a handful of your soldiers, lead you into his chambers, and let you slay him where he lies.” Loki added a wicked smirk at the end for good measure.

Laufey considered the proposition, and motioned for his men to step back. He gave Loki a cold, joyless smile in return. “Why not kill him yourself? You have enough tricks up your sleeve.”

“I don’t think the people of Asgard would appreciate a king who murdered his predecessor,” Loki said plainly, staring back at him. “I'll keep the throne, and you will have the Casket. When all is done, we will have a permanent peace between our two worlds. Then I will have accomplished what Odin, and Thor, never could. Do you accept?”

Laufey studied Loki’s face. Something akin to curiosity flickered in his dark red eyes. “All this to prove yourself. To whom I wonder…”

Loki didn’t answer, and briefly wondered if Laufey could recognize his own blood in him as plainly as he could

“Very well, then,” Laufey agreed with a nod of his head. “I accept.”

Laufey gave his soldiers a small head move and turned his back to Loki, walking out of the throne room. His guards busied behind him and they began to discuss something in hushed, growling voices. Loki assumed himself to be dismissed but waited until a heavy ice door slammed shut just to make sure.

The bright lights of the Bifrost made Loki feel nauseated, but he knew he had to put up his facade. He had to get through with this, for Asgard, for his future, and for himself. He had to finish what he started or it was all for nothing.

Heimdall waited for him at the other end, eyeing him suspiciously with his piercing golden stare as he stepped through the portal of light. “I turned my gaze upon you in Jotunheim, but could neither see nor hear you,” he said slowly, forming an accusation with his tone. “You were shrouded from me, like the Frost Giants who entered this Realm.”

“I learned that trick when I was a teenager, gatekeeper. And it is nothing compared to what you have hidden from me.” Loki wished he could unleash on him but he needed him. For now.

Heimdall swallowed thickly and straightened his posture. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

That answers that question, Loki thought, as if there was any doubt before that a man who sees all could have known about my past.

Loki began to circle the podium Heimdall was standing on, heading toward the door that led out to the bridge. “You have great power,” he told the gatekeeper, though it was only a formality to keep him listening. “Did Odin ever fear you?”

Heimdall blinked at him but didn’t move, instead increasing his grip on his sword. “No.”

“And why is that?"

"Because he is my King, and I am sworn to obey him.”

“Was your king. You're sworn to obey me now. Yes?”

Heimdall hesitated for an uncomfortably long time. “Yes,” he finally said, just above a whisper.

“Tell me, Heimdall, where are Lady Sif and the Warriors three?” Loki already knew the answer but he wanted to see if Heimdall would confess. He had ordered the gatekeeper to close the Bifrost as soon as he was given the throne and if his hunch was correct it meant that Heimdall had gone against the direct order of the King.

“Tell me, Loki,” Heimdall retorted, perhaps sensing his cover had been blown, “how did you get the Jotuns into Asgard?”

“You think the Bifrost is the only way in and out of the Realm?” Loki asked rhetorically with a sardonic smile, walking around the gatekeeper again to more open space. “There are secret paths between worlds to which even you, with all your gifts, are blind. But I have need of them no longer, now that I am King.” Loki was now standing by the chamber’s door. “I will ask but once more. Where are Lady Sif and the Warriors Three?”

Heimdall clenched his jaw at the question, but did not answer. Loki sighed inwardly. He will never obey me. A tense silence stretched in the small room. He let those fools go to Thor. Loki noticed how Heimdall’s grip on his sword tightened even more.

“Then you leave me no choice.” Loki gripped Gungnir and squared his footing. “For your act of treason, you are relieved of your duties as Gatekeeper, and you are no longer a citizen of Asgard.”

It seemed like Heimdall was waiting for those words to be spoken. A vengeful smile spread across his face and he adjusted his grip to prepare to wield the sword. “Then I need no longer obey you.”

He raised the massive sword and prepared to strike. Loki didn’t move, he didn’t even flinch, as if Heimdall’s actions were expected. With a wave of his hands, he made the air between his palms freeze. A blue cold glow shone bright, and seemed to protect him from Heimdall’s attack, slowing his movements, keeping him away from the prince.

The gatekeeper stared at what Loki had summoned: the Casket of Ancient Winters.

Ice shards swirled from the casket, the winds screamed, as the blizzard inside was unleashed. Snow and hail covered Heimdall, and the bridge around them. The temperature dropped fast, mist hovering over the observatory. Heimdall could not fight the storm. His fingers were frozen to the sword on his grasp, his armor cracked, his skin burned. Soon enough he was encased in an icy tomb, staring at Loki in full Jotun form.

Loki hit the chamber’s floor with Gungnir, making a ringing sound that spread through the metal structure. Then he inserted the staff in the control panel and activated the Bifrost.

“Ensure my brother does not return yet.”

The Destroyer seemed to nod before going inside the Bifrost. Loki took a deep breath and maneuvered on the control panel. The light became bluer and darker, bringing back with her a small group of Frost Giants, led by Laufey himself.

“Welcome to Asgard.”

Frigga took another deep breath and covered Odin’s hand with her own once again, the shock of his barely perceptible pulse still no less alarming. Never before had she felt so hopeless during an Odinsleep, now that it felt like her entire world was crashing down around her. Not only was her husband at his most vulnerable now that he was in his Sleep and his age was beginning to weaken him, but both of her sons were having their own crises she could do nothing to help with. Giving the throne to Loki as a show of good faith was supposed to be for the good of the kingdom, since Loki had always been more level-headed and diplomatic than Thor and she needed to focus on caring for Odin, but she was beginning to question her decision since it appeared to only be making Loki more unstable and withdrawn. The future of the Realm may very well be in jeopardy as a result of her haste.

Shouting coming from the guards outside the chamber doors made Frigga rush to her feet and make a dash for her sword. A brief scuffle followed by two screams of agony had the Queen ready to fight to the death with whoever was on the other side. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw frost spread across the doors and felt a chill settle over the room.

Laufey.

Head held high, Frigga stood her ground as the first Jotun burst through the double doors. She charged at him and cut him down with a single slashing motion and raised her sword once more at the towering Jotun King to do the same.

But the Queen wasn’t fast enough to stop him. Laufey swiped at her with his massive arm and knocked her aside, causing her to hit her head on the wall and crumple to the floor in a daze, her sword meters out of her reach.

Clearly Frigga wasn’t part of Laufey’s plan. He ignored her and proceeded to Odin’s protective bed, easily pushing past the magical golden barrier around him to kneel over his helpless form.

Frigga tried to rise to her feet but her brain couldn’t communicate with her legs and she struggled just to sit upright and focus her eyes. Slowly she willed herself to gather power into her hands, waiting until the right moment to attack - too soon and it would do nothing but annoy him, too late and her husband would be dead. So she pretended to wait and watch as Laufey delivered his speech to his lifelong enemy.

“It is said that you can still see and hear what transpires around you, even in this state. I hope it’s true,” Laufey sneered, “so you know your death came by the hand of Laufey.” He loomed over the Allfather, casting a menacing shadow over him. “This is for Jotunheim. This is for my family.”

A blade of solid blue ice formed in Laufey’s hand and Frigga knew she didn’t have much time left to act. She poured everything she had into the magic she was going to cast at him, making her feel weak and dizzy.

Laufey raised the ice blade over his head, ready to strike, and Frigga lifted her arms as high as she could.

If I die, so will he.

Before she could release the spell, a blast of golden energy hit Laufey from the side and knocked him to the ground. Frigga allowed her magic to dissipate and turned her head to see where the attack came from, nearly sobbing with relief when she saw Loki standing in the doorway, wielding Gungnir like the King she knew he could be. She turned back toward Laufey but he was not dead yet. The Jotun had risen, shaking, to his feet, clutching the side of his abdomen where Loki had hit him. Blood trickled between his bony fingers.

“And your death,” Loki said, raising Gungnir again and coming closer to prepare for another strike, “came by the son of Odin.”

“Loptr…” Laufey looked at Loki with pleading eyes as he fell to his knees. His height was now almost eye to eye with Loki. “Odin’s lies are carved deep in your soul.”

Frigga wanted desperately to get up, to run to Loki and take from him the weight of the words Laufey was clearly going to tell him and kill the Jotun herself. But she was far too weak and had depleted her magic until she could rest again.

“What are you on about, monster?” Loki’s hands trembled as he gripped Gungnir, and directed the spear to hit again.

“My dear Loptr.” Laufey smiled, a sad longing smile. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you? Do you think that even with Odin’s spell all over you I wouldn’t see your mother in your eyes?”

Loki’s gaze flicked toward Frigga momentarily, a frantic question written in his eyes. Frigga shook her head - that was one secret she would take to her grave, if only to protect him. Her heart began to break seeing his resolve and his anger unravel before her eyes.

Laufey lifted his hand, as if he were to touch Loki’s face. But he hesitated, and Loki flinched when he saw the gesture. “Loptr...” His voice was gravelly and pained.

“My name is--”

“I know the name the Allfather gave you.” Laufey spat with a heavy breath. “But the name your mother chose was Loptr. Right before she gave her life for you.” The giant covered the wound on his side. A thousand years old wound, reopened, ironically, by Loki’s blast. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back in time to save you. There was nothing I could do to stop Odin from taking you. I’m just happy he didn’t kill you as I know was his intent.”

Loki’s stance slacked, and the grip on Gungnir loosened. At last Frigga was able to muster the strength to crawl while the pair were distracted. After what seemed like hours, finally her trembling fingers closed around the hilt of her sword.

“I am so sorry, Loptr.” Laufey’s voice broke, and his eyes focused on something behind Loki. “I hope you know your mother loved you. As did I.”

Loki was too stunned to move, and stared at the Jotnar King, unable to perceive what was happening around him. He felt the ice cold hand of the king’s grip his arm, and the push that followed. The bright flash of a sword missed his back by mere inches, and found its target in Laufey’s neck. Loki rolled on the floor, his armor and cape soaked with the blue blood that was still spreading all over. He heard a piercing scream, and the loud thump of another body hitting the floor.

More blood.

His head was spinning.

Your mother loved you.

Frigga left the sword impaled on the giant’s body, and dropped to the floor, trying to hold Loki close. But he recoiled from her embrace. “I am so sorry, my son,” she murmured.

“You are not my mother.” Loki spoke barely above a whisper.

I am a monster.

Frigga looked at him, heartbroken, tears on the corner of her eyes. What could she say? The lies had been exposed, and they were bleeding out like an open wound. The temperature in the room dropped, mist hovered on the floor. The blue frost giant blood froze completely. Loki’s magic burst from his body with an anguished scream that never reached his mouth and was set loose through his very skin instead, covering the walls and pillars with ice.

Frigga was knocked back by the impact, freezing the already ice cold blood that soaked her garments. Loki didn’t notice, rage was clouding his senses and the only thing he could focus on were the last words Frigga spoke to him as his mother.

Make your father proud.

Loki grabbed Gungnir and stood up, making his way towards the door. But he didn’t go far. Stopped by a bright flash of lightning, he slipped on the floor again. Thor stood in the doorway, fully armored and wielding Mjolnir once again.

“Thor!” Frigga managed to stand up and run to Thor, who welcomed her embrace, but kept his eyes fixed on Loki.

Loki narrowed his eyes at Thor, not bothering to hide his disdain. “So you managed to make way back to Asgard.” After I did all the hard work, of course.

“Despite your efforts to keep me away!” Thor gripped his hammer and pointed it towards Loki, ready to blast once more.

Frigga looked at Loki, her eyes denoting alarm and confusion. “Loki?”

“Why don’t you tell mother how you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends? To kill me?” Thor pushed.

“It must have been enforcing Father’s last command,” he offered, forcing a mocking smirk.

“You're a talented liar, brother. Always have been.”

I am not your brother.

Loki could feel his blood boil, and laughed coldly. “This family is full of talented liars!!”

Thor, confused, looked at Frigga. The Queen was openly crying now, head down in shame.

I am a monster.

Destroy the monster.

Make your father proud.

Suddenly it was as though his mission was clear. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to destroy Jotunheim.”

<< Chapter 20 – Chapter 22 >>

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