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scribeofmorpheus · 3 years

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Himmeløyne [24/?]

Pairing: Loki Odinson x Reader

Catch Up Here | Masterlist

Warnings: Angst???

A/N: Sorry for the slow updates and return, it’s been a shitty year for me so far and I barely have the energy to be creative or enjoy writing as I used to. Anyhoo, enough dark-loomimg-clouds overhead, I’m going to try and write more and slowly get back in the flow of things. Can’t wait to conclude this journey with all my Loki lovers out there!!♥

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment or leave a like please ☺

~Heimdall

The descent from the mountain was tough. The winds held a biting anger to them, as though they knew outsiders had slipped into Jotunheim, unwanted. It was morning, or a semblance of it, and the snow threatened to turn its grey, sludgy pelt to a blinding light-catcher. Snow blindness would have been an issue had the sun been young in Jotunheim. This old world was always angry every time he stepped foot on its lands, but, after the gates of Mímir’s Tomb closed behind him, the world seemed the slightest bit angrier.

Y/N stirred in his arms. Eyes closed, brows drawn close together. Her lips moved as if possessed, soundless words spilling from her mouth in a fervent cascade. Speech of tongues, a sign of dark magic possession. Y/N’s consciousness was in the stream now, and none could wake her. Even her magic, her presence, was sealed off to his own. Every time he tried to reach out, he felt nothing but the air on his cheeks, or the snow on exposed skin. It was cold. Cold and empty. He knew this feeling all too well. It had taken years for him to become adept in traversing the ways of dark magic. In his youth, it was common for him to be overcome by the Transcendence—the pull of the power of the ancients. Dark magic tapped into more than just the kindling of the Eternal Flame that breathed life into Yggdrasil and life beyond, it tapped into essence itself, of the past, the present and what lay in secret. Being a conduit to its onslaught was a thin blade to dangle by, for both the conjurer and their souls.

Shaken from his reverie, Heimdall caught sight of Hogun in the white-out of the landscape below. Hogun had scouted ahead to mark the safest path down the mountain. For some reason, he had stopped to kneel over a rockery below, from the way the rocks were stacked it looked to be the remnants of a shrine.

Sif waited for Hogun to wave them down and give the go-ahead, but to their dismay, he did not. Heimdall became more and more aware of the seconds trudging by the longer he stood out in the open. The colour from Y/N’s fingers and lips began to drain too. He dreaded seeing them turn blue.

“What’s the hold-up?” Fandral shielded his eyes as he stole a glace below.

Hogun mumbled to himself, voice lost to the harsh wail of the winds. Then, with a shift in his countenance, he turned to the group and shouted across the divide, “The ground… something is moving!”

“Towards us?” Sif shouted back.

“No, beneath. There’s something beneath us!” Hogun said. Just then, a rumble gurgled through the mountain, layers beneath, and Heimdall felt a wave travel from his soles upwards.

The frozen sea in the distance cracked. A hollow, whip-cracking noise echoed against the mountain’s stone. Sharp notes sliced at Heimdall’s ears, making him wince. The others showed discomfort too. The boy who they’d found in the tomb beside Y/N began to blink away whatever spell had pulled him under. Unlike Y/N, he looked to be untouched by the cold. In fact, the longer he was exposed to it, the brighter he seemed. Livelier.

The boy mumbled, and for the briefest moment, Heimdall could have sworn he heard the beginnings of Jotun trickle out. Volstagg was oblivious to this, simply thinking the boy’s sounds to be the groggy noises of between-sleep.

“Easy there, lad. You’re with friends. You’re safe,” Volstagg said in a low candour.

“We should get off the mountain,” Heimdall warned, refusing to let his voice be as loud as his fear truly was.

“Boy,” Volstagg lowered the boy from his grip, giving him room to find his footing, “can you walk?”

“Baldrick,” he said, swaying. His knees threatened to buckle, but before Volstagg could lend a hand to steady him, he righted himself. “Yes, I think I can.”

There was a dream-like effect to the boy. Reminiscent of a dream stretching long into the waking world. It doesn’t belong there, and yet, familiarity lulls the senses, as a sweetness masks a poison. His words fell soft, and struck hard once they faded, like swallowing ice; at first, there’s the initial chill, and then, once in the throat, you become terribly aware of the difference between your heat and the ice’s lack of it.

“Good,” Fandral said, face turned to the mountain peak, “because we’ve got another problem.”

With a roll of thunder, the crack in the sea of ice broke to form a cavern, hollow and open. The echoing sounds knocked against Heimdall’s body as If he were a tuning fork. Then, ominously, the wind went quiet, waiting. A single snowflake danced across the horizon, touched the ground and shattered. The ground shook, stronger than before, and a piece of the mountain burst into a mess of rock and dust. The snow gathered there tumbled downward, growing to an avalanche. The violent turmoil of rock and dirtied snow hurled itself towards them, tendrils separated into three prongs, outstretched in the shape of a hand reaching down. This was magic beyond conjuring. This was divine fury of a deadened world awakening.

Hogun waved them down, face paling. “Run!”

Heimdall felt his muscles brace of their own accord. A rush of heat to his chest and his feet moved faster, less cautious of slipping on the ice.

A formation of rock and magic took shape under the frozen lake. A head of something rendered from artifice breached to the surface. As if a snake, grey streaks writhed under the sea as this inanimate behemoth climbed to the surface, wrought, constructed and ancient. Two glowing orbs melted the ice to a waterfall as the construct continued its climb. A slow, guttural growl, strung together by fluctuating sound waves, burst into the air. It was language. It was Jotun.

As the behemoth grew, the mountain sank. Formations of rock working in tandem. Two muscles at work. And Heimdall and everyone else was stuck in the space between destruction and formation. The avalanche moved swifter than Heimdall’s feet could carry. Soon, the sky was filled with the wroth of the destroyed mountain.

~Y/N

Everything was black since the tomb. An emptiness. Peace. Waking up was riotous. White-out of snow was nearly blinding. There was a shaking to the world, roil and amble against flesh. As your eyes flung open, you realised your body was hovering off the ground, an avalanche charging towards you, but you weren’t afraid. By instinct, you raised your palm, feeling the cold of the snow before it touched you, and your magic spread as a vibrant shield. The rush of snow and rock piled over the magical barrier, threatening to overwhelm you. Once the barrage had stopped, you let your hand fall to your side, the magical barrier gone with it. The piled snow made a hushing noise as it shifted lower, for an instant, and then stopped.

“Y/N?” Heimdall’s voice called to you.

Startled, you turned and saw the familiar faces of your friends, gobsmacked, mouths agape. Further in the distance, the maw of a giant snake lay open, fangs of stone and a throat of darkness peaked out above a split sea of ice. For some indiscernible reason, you knew you had to go there. Body aching to cross the divide and melt into the stone snake’s midnight throat. It was then that you realised the devastated mountain made smaller, and the surrounding landscape, changed, was Jotunheim.

“What happened here?” you tried to clear the cobwebs from your mind, blinking sluggishly.

“What happened to you?” Sif asked, unable to stop staring in your direction.

Everyone stared at you a little longer than they should. Focusing on your face. Or, rather, your eyes. You had forgotten that the last time you saw them was mere hours ago, not ages as the Verdenspeil had led you to believe. To them, you had only just given up your eye to The Collector for passage into the mirror world. To you, it felt like a distant memory. Readjusting to time would be tricky.

Your hand hovered close to your newer eye—the golden one—and you smiled fondly, “A long story.” Suddenly, a streak of dread shot up your spine. “Where’s Baldrick? Where’s the boy?”

Heimdall reached for your shoulder, calm expression melting your rattled countenance, “He’s fine.” Your father frowned, searching gaze landing on Baldrick. The gears of his mind were working. An obvious look of caution and wonderment fighting for dominance over his frown lines. “Who is he?”

You sighed a breath of relief as Baldrick smiled back at you, bare feet untouched by the cold as he rooted himself on the mountain. You returned your attention back to Heimdall, an ease in your chest. “I cannot say for sure. But he feels so…”

“Familiar,” Heimdall understood the same as you did. The boy’s presence was confounding. “As if he was known to us, from before.”

“Not to interrupt this reunion—Y/N, so glad you’re up and walking—but in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re out in the open, were nearly crushed by an avalanche and had a giant snake appear from beneath a frozen sea. Perhaps, standing around, exposed to the cold, in hostile territory is not the best move?” Fandral said sarcastically.

“He’s right,” Sif added, head in a constant swivel, keeping an eye out for trouble. “We haven’t had the best luck lately. Best not to tempt our luck by staying out in the open.”

“And it’s not like the both of you can just open a portal and return us home, we’re fugitives now. Traitors to the Allfather,” Volstagg tugged at his braided beard in frustration, aimless.

Baldrick spoke low, Jotun sentences strung together with ease. He pointed toward the snake’s maw. Somehow, you understood him. Clearly.

“We deal with things as they come. But first, Baldrick says that’s where we need to go,” you nudged your head towards the stone snake.

“You mean… inside the ominous shrine of Jörmungandr?” Fandral laughed, flat and unamused. “No-no-no-no! We should not be walking towards that thing. In fact, it’s a bad omen. Like end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it bad!”

“Would you prefer the cold then?” you raised a brow at him, humorous tone catching everyone by surprise.

Fandral opened his mouth, but came up short. He closed it and shook his head. “Into the snake’s mouth we go.” He led the charge for the foot of the mountain where Hogun stood.

The walk to the snake’s maw was slow. The ice of the sea was fragile, compromised from the new hollow spaces made from the stone construction’s movement. Baldrick was light-footed, jumping from one crack to the next, delicate. You found yourself holding your breath every time a crack formed under his weight.

Heimdall had refrained from asking questions, but you knew he must have had plenty. Hogun’s ear suffered from having to listen to Fandral’s tantrum quietly. Volstagg lagged behind, aided by Sif, whose stare made the nape of your neck prickle. She was dubious of you. You felt as if time had undone itself and you were the outsider again. Her, the watcher.

“Something is weighing on you,” you said.

Heimdall hummed, thoughts distracted by the sound of your voice.

“Why not ask what’s plaguing you?”

He sighed this time, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. “You seem… changed.”

You made a fist, stared at your palm that didn’t quite feel like your own and made a curious noise. “I do feel changed.”

“What happened once you crossed into the mirror? How do you have both eyes? Who is the boy? And why did Jotunheim seem to awaken to his presence?”

You chuckled low, “You’ve been wrestling with quite the mysteries, I see.”

“It felt wrong to bombard you with questions. You were barely lucid a few moments ago. Taken by the Transcendence.”

“Transcendence?”

“It’s a common… ailment that afflicts dark magic users. It’s one of the reasons the art form is feared. It was popular amongst my people’s sages.”

“Your people? Not ours?” You read his posture, saw the regret in his jaw when he realised he let something slip. “You’re not Æsir, are you?”

He didn’t say a word. Then it hit you.

“Of course! That’s why you know the ways of dark magic. That’s how you knew about the fairytale of Bor and Bestla. It’s how you knew to come here. To find me. You were there, during the First Great War.”

“It’s no secret.”

“Yet you omitted to mention it. Sounds like a secret to me. Why not tell me?”

“The Great Wars were gruelling. Unkind. And… I made choices…” He trailed off, eyelids heavy.

“That makes you older than Odin, but you don’t look it. How come?”

“My homeworld was known as Vanaheim. The Vanir were healers and poets. Our magic was linked to longevity, childbirth, and foresight. The Æsir were more powerful, stronger, tactical, but they were afraid of dark magic, so they saw us as a threat. My ageing is linked to this power. Slowed by it.”

“That means Odin was your enemy. Once.”

“His father was, yes.” It was evident, from his tone, he wasn’t going to explore that history further.

You changed the subject, afraid to let silence settle, to lose momentum. “Why didn’t you return, to Vanaheim I mean, after the war?”

“I couldn’t.” He rolled up his sleeves to reveal a sigil tattooed near his elbow joint. “The way is sealed for me. Asgard is my home now. Or… was my home.” He heaved a sigh, rolled his shoulders back and looked at you more animatedly. “Now, your turn. What happened once you crossed into the mirror?”

Give and take, you realised what his tactic was and smiled, showing teeth. “Ah, that’s why you told me all that. Cunning.” You spent the rest of the walk filling him in on everything that happened since you were separated.

When you got the snake’s maw, you noticed a stone door sealing the entryway to the strange Jotun structure. It looked similar to a vault. Before you could step forward to investigate, Heimdall pulled you aside to whisper something.

“Be careful around Jotun magic. From what you told me, of how things ended after your encounter with Bestla…” he frowned, unsure of how to word things. Maybe he simply didn’t have a logical reason. He looked to Baldrick, eyebrows drawing upwards ever so slightly. “Just… be careful.”

You squeezed his hand, “I can’t make that promise, but I will be cautious. For you… Father.”

His eyes shot up, compassion shining in them. He looked vulnerable, open and strange… like a father ought when filled with pride.

“I don’t see a key, or a lever anywhere. How are we gonna get it open?” Hogun asked the group after he finished searching the walls and stone carvings for any hidden levers.

Baldrick said something to you in Jotun and then placed his small hand in a groove on the wall. The left side of the snake’s under-mouth glowed with magic. You went over to the right side and placed your own palm in the groove there. The right side lit up with a different coloured magic. Slowly, loudly, the door rolled open, revealing a set of shiny, emerald dark stairs that led deeper into the snake’s pit.

“So we’re literally entering the belly of the beast?” Fandral asked. No one complained. Hogun just shoved him forward. “Well, I’ve had a long run. Couple of centuries. Some forlorn lovers. Few books of poetry…” Fandral’s voice disappeared down the tunnel way, still listing his accomplishments of a full life.

The stairs were winding, following the curves of a snake’s anatomy. The craftsmanship of such a construct was impeccable, and also unbelievable. It was stone, inanimate, hard and set. Yet, the magic that held its walls together, congealed them like glue, pulsed and shivered with a kind of electricity that was alive. It was odd, seeing life in a lifeless thing. Like the Destroyer, but not in the form of a weapon, in the form of architecture.

Baldrick ran his hands along the walls. Runes and drawings foretelling a story. A tragedy from the looks of it. You didn’t bother trying to decipher it like Sif and Heimdall were doing, you just appreciated the beauty of the carvings, imagining a younger Jotunheim, and a calmer people.

Eventually, the steps led you to a large crystalline and stone structure. A splinter of stone pathways diverging from the sharp-angled, dome-like centre, lowering to an oval-shaped annex. Giant archways encircled the annex, all of them leading to a dead-drop and a roiling darkness below. There were two protruding prongs in the epicentre, like key-slots.

The design was familiar, like the branching pathway in Verdenspeil that led to the abyss’ portal way. Baldrick called it by its name: the Through-Way.

The group split in three. Hogun and Fandral marvelled over the architecture. Sif and Hogun both kept their eyes trained on Baldrick. And you and Heimdall to the end of the floor, teetering between the border of endless darkness and the thin pathway leading to the central annex. Heimdall kicked a stone over the edge, waited to hear it plop, but it never did.

“Where are you from, boy?” Volstagg asked, curious of the boy’s knowledge of things. He seemed so much bigger next to Baldrick’s boyish frame. Like a large oak beside a green shoot.

“Now?” Baldrick turned to look at you, an odd expression to him. “I suppose, here. For a while at least.”

“And what of before? Where was your home before? You speak the Jotun tongue, yet you do not look as Giants do.” Sif noted, crossing her arms to seem imposing.

“I was told the Jotun are different here. Just like Jotunheim is different here. My home is similar but different. Warmer. As is our language. And our skin was not enchanted to survive the Endless Winter,” he answered in an airy manner. There was a purposeful vagueness melding truth and uncertainty together. A silverness to his words to the point you wondered if you believed him or simply wanted to. It reminded you of how Loki tended to explain around things in the beginning.

Hogun whistled, turning clockwise on his heel to get the full effect of the room. “I’ve never seen Jotun architecture like this…” He trailed off when he noticed ice, magically frozen and too stubborn to melt, used as plaster between the stone walls that rotated at an almost indiscernible pace. “Are we… moving?”

“Only a little. The ice hurts him.” Baldrick’s small palm was pressed to the wall, as if he could hear the thoughts of stone. “In my home, the snake moves for eternity beneath the sea. But the sea here is cold.” His bright, beautiful face fell. “Everything here is cold…”

Baldrick’s magic spilt outwards, invisible to everyone else. You could feel his sadness. Heimdall twitched beside you and you wondered if he felt it too.

“‘Hurts him?’” Hogun narrowed his eyes at the boy, a comprehensive look taking over. “Y-You can hear it? This… thing we’re inside… is it… alive?”

Baldrick shook his head, removing his palm from the wall, a light dimming in the cracks. “It is alive as much as any enchanted thing is alive. But, its magic is awake with us. And I can feel them…”

Sif turned from a carving she had been gawping at and said, “Them?”

A wind blew past you and Heimdall, and suddenly, you could feel them too. The echoes left behind by those that constructed this snake. Their hopes and dreams, their aura, the faintest whisper of voices. Their presence lived within the walls as magic. An afterimage.

“I feel them too,” you said.

Heimdall nodded in agreement. The other’s reflexively shivered away from the walls, trying to make themselves smaller. As if to toy with them, the walls constricted to swallow the distance.

Fandral made a strange noise and said, “Okay, we survived the belly of the beast, but I think I’ve had my fill. So… what exactly do we do now?”

A fizzling in the back of your mind grew to a cloud, foamy and large in shape. Somehow, you knew the next steps to take. It was just as Bestla said, the way was known to you, like instinct. You knew what the stone snake’s purpose was without context. It was a bi-frost, or… at least similar in function. “Those archways,” you pointed, “they’ll lead us where we need to go.

You took the first steps towards the annex, everyone else waited to take turns, afraid the thin pathway would give in.

You hovered near both of the protruding prongs, arms raising themselves without thought, fingers clamping down on the blunt grooves of either prong. The floor lit up, light shining through cracks. And the whole room shifted, adjusting to your magic. Numbness took over your body, a draining sensation, like the leeching, but kinder. You were a million leagues away from everything. Feeling weightless, an image filled your mind. It was the healing chamber and the sprawling sea near the gleaming, golden palace on Asgard. Loki was hovering in his curtain of golden light, still, quiet. And then, out of the corner of your eye, a swirl of colours gave birth to that very image in one of the archways.

~Odin

Aisling, Captain of the Guard, was beaming in her own right, having delivered the good news to the Allfather. The Destroyer had returned. So too was Bor’s belt back in its rightful place. With warranted cunning, she had purposefully neglected to speak a word of what had happened to Heimdall and the others.

Yet, for some reason, Odin’s bones groaned with discomfort. Not age, premonition. Premonition without vision, simply a sensation. There was power in the air, palpable, just as how the sea’s salt lingers in the air. He could feel the waves of magic trickle into the cosmos. It was subtle but meaningful.

“What of Heimdall, and the girl?” Odin peered at Aisling.

She swallowed, her grin faltering to a grim line. “From the commotion, one of my men gathered that she had disappeared. Heimdall, Sif and the Warriors Three fled without her.”

Odin slumped lower into his chair, a sigh capturing the room into a stoic silence. The room had turned grave indeed, no more smiles of triumph from Aisling and her men. “We mustn’t rest until she is found. It is most impertinent. So much hangs in the balance.”

“B-But… my liege—” Aisling’s second-in-command spoke out of turn, stuttering to gain his place, “—they used dark magic to escape. It is near impossible to track, even with a gifted witch on our side, of which, we have none.”

Aisling glowered at her underling, making him turn pale and skittish under her imposing gaze. “I give you my word, we will find these traitors and bring them before you, my liege.”

“Traitors?” Odin pondered the word, saw how it felt. He decided he didn’t care for it.

Aisling waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. She bowed, turned on her heel and left the room, her men following suit.

Out the window, through the throne room’s glass, a beacon of light, pure as azure, beamed down from the skies into a tower. A nexus point. A magical link. The wind wrestled against him, made walking that much harder, but when Odin got near enough to see where the light came from, he gasped. It was the healing chamber where Loki slept.

Odin hadn’t seen such seamless magic like this since his youth, before his mother’s death.

~Loki

Loki felt warm air blow against his eyelashes. With a jaw popping yawn, he stretched off the table, straightening his back. The library was quiet. And Y/N beamed her playful smile at him from the chair beside him.

“I must have dozed off,” he worked his tender muscles, looking out the window to see a twilight. Strange…

Y/N slid the book he had been reading closer to her, flipping pages absentmindedly, garnering his attention. “My, my… must be such a riveting read for you to spend all day up here, away from me.” She pouted. The words on the page caught his eye, for a second. The page was flooded with strings of letters swishing about, no sentences or structure. For some reason, his mind didn’t seek an explanation as to why the letters on the page were the way they were. It seemed natural, admissible. So, again, he looked away, fixing his attention back on Y/N.

He smirked, leaning close enough to Y/N’s face that he could hear her soft breathing. He whispered in her ear, a hand caressing her cheek, “We both know you’re the most intriguing thing in my life, pet.”

Her face inched closer, eyes focused on Loki’s mouth. Just when he thought she’d take the plunge and close the distance, she withdrew from him. Her arms folded over her chest, “Evidently, not.” She nudged her chin towards the large book.

Oh, he lifted a single brow. “Well…” he swept her wild hair to the side until her neck was fully exposed and bent to place soft, lingering kisses along her exposed skin. “I’ll just have to show you…” He pressed another kiss to her skin, marking a trail to the back of her ear. Feeling a warmth spread when she shivered against him. “just… how… important… you are… to me. How… much… of me… is yours.”

Y/N sighed sweetly when he drew his thumb close to her pulse point, fingers tickling the dip of her clavicle, “You’re off to a good start. But I’m still not convinced.” He could hear the smile in her voice. Feel how radiant she grew with every peppered kiss.

“Good, because I’m far from finished with my little presentation.”

Soon, in a fever, his lips were on hers, and it felt charged, full of potential. A desire to explore, and be explored. He deepened the kiss, finding solace in her body warmth. He felt like he was thawing but he couldn’t tell why.

In his daze, Loki was ignorant to the darkness befalling the room. The slow encroaching shadow that swallowed everything to black. When he broke the kiss, ragged pants making the air feel heated, he opened his eyes and felt a lump settle in his throat.

It was gone. The room. The light. Y/N.

In the darkness, a mist twisted and writhed like the limbs of an octopus, licking the blackened world with frost. Something large and tall, with protruding bone spurs and red eyes, seemed to materialise from the mist. It growled, feral with rage, and moved languid, as a predator does, towards him.

He tried to summon his magic, but it was dormant. Then his rational mind told him what he saw wasn’t real, but the cut that formed after the creature clawed through the air proved him wrong. Next, logic. To flee, but there was nowhere to go. There was nothing. Then his mind flashed back to the book, and how the words were illegible, floating like meat in soup, and his next idea was that this blackened world he was in, wasn’t real. A fabrication.

The creature stalked closer and Loki stayed in place, challenging with a lethal stare, hiding his doubt by balling his hands into white-knuckle fists. Tauntingly, the creature raised its clawed hand high up, the singular digits fusing into a jagged, bony protrusion.

Loki swallowed, too aware of how dry his throat was and how painful the bobbing of his Adam’s apple was. With a slice through the air, the creature bore down all its ferocity in a single attack. Loki felt warm liquid waterfall from his midriff. Before he could look down to see, he was wrenched from the dark world. Pulled by something powerful.

The next moment he blinked, he found himself seated in a meadow, pink flowers blooming with a subtle scent. He felt around his body, searching for a cut or the wetness of blood. But he found none. He was intact. Unscathed.

Something had changed. The world seemed to stretch, becoming brighter. And out near the gleam of sunlight over water, a woman’s figure grew larger. Her hand stretched out towards him. He took it, feeling completely safe once his skin touched hers.

He stood off the ground and shifted so he could see whose hand he held.

“Y/N?” he said, confused for a moment. She looked different, as if she had been unmade and was only just returning to the form he remembered her by. Still captivating, but in a damned sort of way. Darker, thin and tired.

“Loki,” she quivered, a hopeful laugh playing with her vocal cords.

He hugged her tight, shaking with fear that she might disappear if he closed his eyes again. A splitting headache caused him to wrench back and stumble. Gritting his teeth, he sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly to make sure the world was still there each time.

The memories came flooding back. Of what this place was. And why he was so afraid all of a sudden. The constant dreaming, reliving, being hunted by the creature and having it all restart again, aloof and confused. He was in his own personal hel.

Y/N moved closer so she could anchor him, give him something to lean into. He felt relief, but then the mist crept over the meadow, turning petals rigid with frost till they crumbled.

Y/N didn’t notice, too consumed with what was right in front of her; him. “Loki, what’s—”

Hurriedly, he grabbed Y/N’s wrist. She flinched from his callousness. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if she was real or another figment of his imagination. It didn’t matter. He’d protect any version of her. Always.

He looked into her eyes and noticed one was different, golden. A detail he couldn’t dream up. He took a moment to look at her, really look, and he knew she was real. And even if she wasn’t, she was warm and breathing and close. A strange relief despite the turmoil that threatened to tear this fake world away. Again.

“You’re real, aren’t you?” his voice cracked at the end, a little hope hidden there.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She reassured him with a smile and a soft reply, “Yes.”

If she’s real… What happens when the nightmare gets her?

The gloom stretched further, stealing colour and life from the sky now. The flowers were all shiny and wet, like glass.

He pulled her further away from the mist, backtracking as the creature began to form again. Dread in his gut.

Her eyes widened, staring into the encroaching shadow, “What is that?”

“You shouldn’t have come.”

To be continued...

#loki #loki x y/n #loki odison x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #y/n #loki mcu #tom hiddelston imagine #himmeløyne #loki x you #loki fanfic

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stardust-walker · 3 years

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The (Victorious) Princess Bride: Chapter 2

Summary: Scott Lang is tasked with one of his hardest missions ever. Keep a trio of kids occupied as their parents decide to go on date nights. Never one to turn down a challenge or miss the chance to impress one of his superhero idols, Scott accepts. After his usual tricks for amusing kids fall through, he falls back on one of the classics: a story. If princesses, sword fighting, pirates, Valkyries, and magic are what it takes to keep these kids from tearing the house down, then he accepts.

Infinity War/ Endgame never happens. Mentions of chaotic dad Tony Stark. Loki x Sigyn.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: After Loki gets 'killed' by the Dread Pirate Fury, Sigyn vows to never love again. Fast forward 5 years and she's being forced to marry the Grandmaster and is suddenly in the hands of a familiar cast of characters. One of them happens to look a little too familiar.

MASTERLIST

Scott had never been more grateful for Thor loving his own stories as he tried to continue with his own. He would really have to thank him for it later, honestly.

Loki had more than enough money for marriage, but more importantly he would need approval from his father. The time came when he had to pack the few belongings he had and left the farm to seek his fortune in the war with Svart...awhata.

“You said it wrong,” The dark haired boy piped up. His brother nodded in agreement.

“Who’s telling the story here, buckaroo?” Scott furrowed his brow as he continued.

Fine. The war with...Sakaar. Still, it was a very emotional time for Sigyn.

“I fear I’ll never see you again,” Sigyn sniffled as she clung to Loki like she truly meant her words. She wanted to never leave the spot where they stood. She knew that the war was dangerous and there was more of a chance that she would never see him again than either of them would truly like to believe.

“Of course you will,” Loki reassured her.

“But what if something happens to you?” Sigyn wiped at her eyes as the tears began to fall in spite of herself.

A small smile crossed Loki’s face as he wiped one of her tears away. “Hear this now. I will return for you no matter what.” Sigyn opened her mouth to interrupt him, but Loki continued. His face was more stern now, a determined look in his eye. “This is true love. You think this happens every day?”

Sigyn’s heart fluttered as she studied his face. There was no hint of trickery in his eyes or anything to make her think the words he spoke were false.

The blonde let out a weak laugh as she threw her arms around Loki’s neck. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and nuzzled her face into his neck. He might be speaking the truth, but there was no telling what the Norns had in store for them.

“Loki never reached his destination,” Scott stated solemnly. “His crew was attacked by the Dread Pirate Fury. Now the Dread Pirate Fury never kept captives alive. When Sigyn got the news that Loki had been killed…”

“Murdered by pirates?” The blond haired boy sounded shocked despite trying to come off as disinterested.

A small noise behind him made Scott turn quickly in his seat. “Wait who got murdered by pirates?”

“Jesus,” Scott yelped as he placed a hand over his heart.

The young girl on the couch threw her arms in the air. “Peter! Come sit! Uncle Scott is telling us a story and Loki just got killed by pirates!”

The confused look on Peter’s face seemed to grow even more quizzical as he practically tiptoed over to take a seat on the couch. “Wait as in Loki Loki?”

“Of course not,” the dark-haired boy scoffed. “He would never let himself get killed by something as easy to beat as a mortal pirate.”

“Wait Dread Pirate Fury? Is that because of the eye-”

“How did you even get inside? Aren’t I the only one on baby-sitting duty tonight?”

“Oh!” Peter grinned. “Mr. Stark gave me a key!” He produced a house key from seemingly out of nowhere. “I was in the neighborhood and I was hungry but if you’re telling a story, I’m down.”

“Where was I?” Scott frowned as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Killed by pirates,” the two young boys answered together.

Peter eyed the two of them nervously before he turned and nodded at Scott.

Anyway . When Sigyn found out that Loki had been killed, she went into her room and shut the door. For days, she didn’t eat or sleep. She swore she would never love again. After the death of his youngest son, Odin grew weaker. The war with Sakaar was eventually lost with the Grandmaster naming himself ruler over Asgard and his own country. The other prince had disappeared shortly after the war was lost. There was almost nothing left to remind her of how life was before anymore.

Five years passed, the main square of Asgard was filled as it hadn’t been in years to hear the announcement of the great Grandmaster’s bride to be.

The extravagant Grandmaster stepped out onto the balcony of the castle and raised a hand as the crowd grew silent. “Hey there, Sakaarans. I have a fantastic announcement! A month from now, our wonderful country will have its 5th anniversary of joining with the slightly less incredible country of Asgard. But look how much you’ve improved in only 5 years!” From where she stood, Sigyn rolled her eyes. “On that sundown, I shall marry a lady who was once a commoner like yourselves.”

While that may have been true, at least Loki had never called her a commoner. At least not to her face anyway. Everything about the Grandmaster made her stomach turn and her blood boil. Most of all, she hated the fact that she had been sold off like a high prized goat to the man that was the reason her true love was dead.

“But perhaps, you will not find her common now. My people! The Queen Sigyn!”

The blonde woman took a deep breath as she allowed herself to be led out into the blinding sunlight. She had no doubt that the fanfare would have been just as grand if Odin was still king, but still. It might have been the way that her name sounded when the Grandmaster spoke, but it felt like the world was spinning. People were bowing to her and it took everything in her not to beg them to just stand up.

She didn’t want this. She missed the farm and her horses. More importantly, she missed the way the kingdom was before. She missed Loki.

Sigyn’s emptiness consumed her. Although the law of the land gave the Grandmaster the right to choose his bride, she did not love him. Despite his reassurance that she would grow to love him, the only joy that Sigyn found was on her daily ride.

Sigyn couldn’t stop herself from smiling as the horse galloped along through the orchard. As the wind blew her hair back and she felt the fresh air in her lungs, the woman felt at peace. Her hazel eyes narrowed as she spotted figures in the distance. She grew close enough to see them clearly and pulled on the reins to slow her horse to a stop.

“My lady!” A bald man spoke from the center of the small group. “A word.” She didn’t like this man, but still she didn’t make a move to get going. A smaller woman stood beside him with a taller blond man alongside her. Something about the blond man looked familiar. “We are but poor lost circus performers. Is there a village nearby?”

The hair on the back of Sigyn’s neck raised as her eyes darted around quickly. “There is nothing nearby, good sir,” she replied briskly, “not for miles.”

The blond man’s relaxed expression seemed to crumble slightly as she heard something move behind her.

“Then there will be no one around to hear you scream,” the bald man grinned at her.

Sigyn turned and her eyes widened as a bright green hand moved towards her. A startled yelp stopped halfway through as his fingers pinched her neck. She fainted. The blond man stepped forward quick enough to catch her as she swayed forward and began to fall from the back of her horse.

“Well done, Hulk!” Skurge made a move like he was about to clap the green giant on the arm but some common sense got into him as he lowered his hand.

The dark-haired woman furrowed her brow as the blond walked over with the fainted woman in his arms. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Don’t you lot want to get back at the Grandmaster for stealing your home? And more importantly, my stuff. ”

Hulk grunted as he stomped over to rejoin the group.

“Easy there, buddy. I think you’re a bit too big for the boat, yeah?” Valkyrie raised a hand in the air.

The green monster let out a low growl of annoyance as his hands began to quiver. Before their eyes, he transformed back into a man. A much smaller, more nervous looking man than the fainted woman could probably guess. He exchanged a worried look with the blond man as Skurge went to work on a piece of cloth.

“Are you sure that this is the best way to get back at him? I mean isn’t this a little...extreme?” The nervous looking man asked.

“The best way to piss this git off is to take his stuff. Blondie here is his future bride, therefore,” he slapped the horse on its backside, “one of the most important parts of his stuff.”

Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed as he continued.

“I just placed a piece of fabric with Jotunheim’s crest on it on the lass’s horse. Everyone will think that the Jotun’s took her. Bang, boom, Bob’s your uncle. He’s got a war on his hands and we all get paid. And Val here can go back to drinking her sorrows away.”

The woman moved her hand dangerously close to her sword as Banner stepped forward. The man raised a hand slightly and she seemed to freeze.

Her sword remained in its sheath, but her eyes narrowed a little more dangerously as he continued.

“When he finds her body dead on the shores of Jotunheim, his suspicions about them will be totally confirmed! It’s genius!”

“It’s murder,” Thor frowned as he glanced nervously at the warrior woman beside him. “You never said anything about killing anyone.”

“I hired you to help me start a war, your highness . Unless you and Hulky would rather go back to fighting in the pits,” Skurge shot them a poisonous smile.

Banner let out a sigh as he turned to board the small ship with the others following behind him. “I don’t think it’s right to kill an innocent girl!”

“Oi!” Skurge shouted. Valkyrie stopped halfway through her check of the ropes on the sail. “Am I going nuts or did the word think escape your lips? No offense doctor, but I didn’t hire you . I hired the big man. You’re only here because he’s too big for the ship!”

Skurge didn’t give a damn about the other three in his crew, that much was evident.

“The sun’s getting low,” Thor said calmly as he laid Sigyn down and began to tie up her wrists.

“I agree with them, unfortunately,” Valkyrie shrugged as Banner began to pace the small deck of the ship.

“What happens to her is none of your concern, ya got it?” Skurge rounded on her. Valkyrie stared right back. “When I found you, you were so slobbering drunk that ya couldn’t buy brandy.”

Sigyn was beginning to stir now even as Thor continued to tie check the knots on her wrists.

“You were friendless! Wrecking havoc wherever you went,” the bald man continued his rampage as Sigyn regained consciousness.

Thor tapped her on the hand gently as he rose to his feet to join the others. She couldn’t help but feel perplexed about the whole thing. First of all, she’d been stupid enough to let herself get kidnapped. Second of all, one of the kidnappers had been gentle with her as if she were a baby. Now what were they doing?

“That Skurge,” the woman whispered. “He can fuss.” She grunted as she pulled on one of the ropes.

“I think he likes to scream,” Thor smirked as he climbed the small ladder towards the helm, “at us.”

“Probably he means no harm,” Valkyrie snickered even as she watched their boss’s shoulders tense in frustration.

Banner chimed in. “He’s really very short on charm!”

“Enough of that! The lot of ya,” Skurge shouted.

“Bruce, are those rocks ahead?” Valkyrie called out in a sickly sweet voice.

“If there are, we’ll all be dead,” Banner deadpanned.

Thor let out a roar of laughter as Skurge fumed even more.

What the hell had Sigyn gotten herself into.

“I bet his face was really...red,” the little girl grinned.

Peter let out a small laugh, “Nice one.”

“This rhyming game sure seems like it would be a lot of fun,” the blond boy raised an eyebrow.

Realization dawned on Scott’s face. Then his expression turned to one of amused horror. “Wait a minute, guys…”

“To play this game one would have to be very wise!” The black haired boy’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I wonder if we would win some sort of prize”

“Parker!”

“Aw,” Peter grinned. “Cmon Scott don’t be such a….a…”

“Barker?” The girl offered.

“Martyr,” the blond boy leaned forward in his seat.

“Oh that’s a good one!” His brother nodded in agreement.

“Alright I guess you guys don’t want to hear about the screaming eels and the,” Scott let out a sigh as he paused for dramatic effect, “cliffs of Insanity.”

The two boys cheered even as Peter inched a little further away from them on the couch. At least the kids weren’t trying to burn the house down like they did with their last babysitter.

#loki x oc #loki x sigyn #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki #my writing #scott lang #peter parker #we love and respect our angel son peter parker in this house #princess bride au #kind of?#scott lang is the chaotic uncle all these kids deserve

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valeriethepussycats · 3 years

Text

Inside Out

Chapter 10

Pairing- Loki x Reader

Warning-cursing and killing

Your thoughts and other characters are in italics. Flashbacks are in bold.

“What are you all doing? You need to get out of here! Now!” Jane said run.

“You're joking, right? That's Thor out there waving his hammer around and everything!” A Student as he uses his phone to record the battle outside; in their ensuing fight, Thor and Malekith are transported through the realms to Svartalfheim and London continuously, at the same time a fighter jet flies towards Malekith's ship.

“Confirming ship is hostile.”

“Confirm, the ship is hostile. You have permission to engage.” Pilot said into his headpiece.

“Roger. The missile's locked. The missile's on its way.” The pilot releases the missile. “Missile off target! I repeat...”

“Mayday! I'm losing control. Mayday! Mayday! I'm losing control!” The jet is then transported to Valaheim.

As they run through the library ground. “What are you doing?” Erik asked.

“My signal's lost connection.” Jane answered.

Some of the dark elves are behind them chasing after them.

“Jane! Come on!”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

As Thor and Malekith continue their battle through the realms they land in Jotunheim and are confronted by a giant beast which then is transported to London, at the same time Darcy and Ian are being ambushed by the dark elves when Ian, with the help of the anti-gravitational energy force, grabs a car and throws it at them, Darcy looks at him in shock.

“Are you alright?” Ian asked.

“You saved my life.” Darcy answered.

“Yeah. Yes, I did.”

Back at the library grounds Jane manages to make the device work again and as she uses it suddenly makes Darcy and Ian appear behind her in each others arms kissing.

“Darcy?”

“Jane!” Darcy lets go of Ian and falls to the ground.

“Ian?”

“Selvig!”

suddenly Mjolnir appears and flies past them. “Meowmeow!”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Thor and Malekith are then transported through the realms again with Malekith landing back in Greenwich but Thor ends up in Charing Cross Underground Station

“Mind the gap.” Said the Man over speakers.

Thor turns to one of the passengers on the underground train that's just arrived. “How do I get to Greenwich?”

“Take this train, three stops.” Said the Woman on Train.

“Thor steps onto the train and places his hand on the bar above him.”

“Mind the gap.” Said the Man over speakers.

As the train starts to move, the movement causes the woman to fall against Thor and she stops herself by placing her hand on his chest. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Thor smiles politely at her

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

In Greenwich the realms come closer to converging, Malekith readies the Aether within him to bring forth the darkness. Y/n walks into the courtyard, in the middle of all the Mayham and destruction. Malekith had made a sphere around himself using the Aether.

“Dark One, come forward.” Malekith announced.

“What’s going on?” Y/n mumbled to herself as she looking at where Erik and Jane is.

“We're out of time.” Jane said.

“Maybe not yet.” Erik said looking at Y/n.

Y/n walks up to sphere and walks though it to see Malekith. “I thought Thor stoped you on Svartalfheim.”

“I can not be stoped with the Aether on my side.” Malekith said smugly.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Y/n said as her eyes glow white.

The Stratus clouds in sky turns into dark Altocumulus clouds. A lightning storm in each cloud, the thunder is so loud that the ground being to shake and the cars that’s around alarms starts going off. A pair of Electric blue eyes are watching everything unfold. Lightning begins to strike the sphere relentlessly until the sphere shatter blasting Malekith yards away.

Malekith stands up and gives Y/n a hearty laugh. “You are truly extraordinary, Dark One.”

Y/n looks over at Malekith with a cocked head. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

Malekith points at Y/n’s chest. “That power inside you it comes from the universe. It’s endless,constantly growing, and......dark.”

Y/n raises her eyebrows at Malekith. “Dark.....there’s nothing dark inside me.”

“Y/n!” Jane said rushing off to Y/n

“Jane. Jane!” Erik shouted.

Thor rushes out of the station to watch the Aether taking over Malekith and Y/n is fighting him.

“Y/n, I need to tell you some.” Jane started. “Y/n, Its about Loki.”

“Not the time, Jane.” Y/n snapped.

“No...Loki wasn’t taken back to Asgard....Malekith.....killed him.” Jane said with quiet empathy.

Upon hearing those words it begins to rain hard. The sky was already dark but the sun was able to shine though but now the sun wasn’t nowhere to be found.

Something inside Y/n snapped and the whole area begins to shake like an earthquake. Y/n’s eyes turns black as vines start to slowly form all over her body.

“Oh no.” Nathan whispered from the clock tower as he rushes down.

“He....Did.....What?” Y/n snarled as her hair stand up and red lightning starts to strike down on the ground in a straight line towards Malekith. Y/n uses her powers to pick up Erik’s gadget spears and fly them over to the Dark Elves.

“Is that why I felt emptiness because you took..Him..From..Me.”

Fire starts to form around Y/n as she starts to walk over to Malekith. Everything in her path burns she’s even leaving burned marks on the ground. Y/n holds out her hand and freezes the rain drops and then flat them then shot them at Malekith.

“Y/n! You have to calm down! Y/n!” Erik called out.

“Y/n’s not here right now.” Y/n answered.

“What.”

Y/n moves her hand and picks up Malekith’s ship and move it towards him. “Now Die!!!”

Y/n drops her arm and the ship falls on Malekith. Y/n looks around at all the Dark Elves and shot water arrows at them making all Dark Elves turn drop to the ground.

Jane uses the gavemetric which makes them disappears and appears on Svartalfheim.

Breathe Y/n

Loki

It will be alright I will always be with you

Tears start to fall from Y/n’s face. She puts her hand over her mouth to stop the sobs from escaping but it was all in vain Y/n’s wail had seep through and just as it did a little green and blue colors appeared in the sky. An aurora borealis (Northern lights) starts to appear all around the area. But little did she and everybody else know it was happening all around the world.

“Y/n.” Thor called out.

Y/n looks over at Thor with eye black. “Is he really gone?”

Thor nods yes. Y/n’s face slowly turns name to normal and just as she is about to fall but Nathan catches her. Thor rushes over to catch Y/n but someone beats him to it.

“Don’t worry, I’m a friend.”

Darcy smiles and throws her arms around Ian and kisses him passionately.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

In New York

At Tony’s tower Bruce is working on something that would change the world, when he looks up out the window and see Northern lights “Tony come look at this.”

Tony walks over to Bruce and looks out the window. “Is that the Northern lights?”

“Yep.” Bruce answered.

“You don’t think it’s Y/n’s doing.”

Tony and Bruce looks at each other with an uneasy feeling crawling up their spine.

Westchester, New York

Jean and Scott is watching tv when an emergency Broadcast on to the channel there watching.

“Breaking news the Northern lights is appearing all over the country.....ok I’m just getting word that the first Sighting of the Northern lights was in the United Kingdom. Some say it’s the effects of global warming.” News reporter explained.

One of the kids run inside the mansion. “Come you have to see this” said the trying to encourage her friend to come outside.

“You want to see what’s all the fuss is about?” Scott asked Jean.

“Why not.” Jean said with a smile.

Jean and Scott get up and walk outside to and they see the Northern lights.

“This is not caused by global warming.” Charles Xavier said as he wheels up to Jean and Scott.

Jean looks over to her left and see Charles and he has a worried look on his face.

“Professor, what’s wrong?” Jean asked.

“Grief, Jean.” Charles answered. “Grief.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Couple of days later, Jane, Erik, Darcy and Ian are in her apartment sat having breakfast quietly.

“He's gonna come back. Except, you know, last time he was gone for, like, two years.” Darcy told.

“Well, it's only been two days, so...” Jane settled.

“Did he say anything before he left?” Erik wondered.

“Yeah, he had to figure some stuff out with his father. He kind of committed treason... on our way out.” Jane looks away and carries on eating her breakfast.

“Oh.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

On Asgard Thor meets with Odin at the palace.

“You once said there would never be a wiser King than me. You were wrong. The alignment has brought all the realms together. Every one of them saw you offer your life to save them. What can Asgard offer its new King in return?”

“It was not me who save them it was Y/n.” Thor stated. “Y/n’s powers took over.........Father, I cannot be King of Asgard. I will protect Asgard and all the realms with my last and every breath, but I cannot do so from that chair. Loki, for all his grave imbalance, understood rule as I know I never will. The brutality, the sacrifice, it changes you. I'd rather be a good man than a great King.”

“Is this my son I hear, or the woman he loves?” Odin questioned.

“When you speak, do I never hear Mother's voice?”

Odin sighs.

“This is not for Jane, Father. She does not know what I came here to say. Now forbid me to see her or say she can rule at my side, it changes nothing.”

“One son who wanted the throne too much, another who will not take it. Is this my legacy?” Odin wondered.

“Loki died with honor, I shall try to live the same. Is that not legacy enough? “ Thor declared.

Odin nods his head, Thor then holds up Mjolnir to offer it back to Odin. “It belongs to you, if you are worthy of it.”

“I shall try to be.”

“I cannot give you my blessing, nor can I wish you good fortune.”

“I know.” Thor turns to leave.

“If I were proud of the man my son had become, even that I could not say. It would speak only from my heart. Go, my son.”

Thor smiles. “Thank you, father.” he turns and starts walking off, as Odin watches

Thor walk off.

Odin's form transform to reveal Loki. “No. Thank you.” Loki smiles devilishly.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Sif and Volstagg are taken to meet, The Collector Taneleer Tivan.

“I present to you, Taneleer Tivan, The Collector.” The Collector's Assistan announced.

“Woh, Oh. Asgardians, it's an honor.” The Collector said as he bows theatrically.

“You know why we're here.” Sif stated.

“Of course. But if I may ask, why not keep it secure in your own vault?” The Collector asked.

“The Tesseract is already on Asgard. It's not wise to keep two Infinity Stones so close together.” Volstagg answered.

“That's very wise.” Sif hands the Aether over to The Collector. “I can assure you it will be absolutely safe in...in my collection.”

“See that it is.” The Collector bows his head, Sif and Volstagg turn and leave.

“One down, five to go.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Weeks later

Y/n wakes in a bed and sits up fast looking around the room and she’s home her home. He rushes up to her and hold her head in his hand.

“Your here.” Y/n said with tears in her eyes as she covers Loki’s hand with hers.

“You have to let me.” Loki stated.

“No...No..No...I just got you back.” Y/n said as her chin trembling as tears roll down.

“If you don’t you will hurt a lot of people.” Loki said with a voice soft with affection.

“Please don’t make me do this.” Y/n wept.

Loki wipes away Y/n’s tears. “I love you...always.”

“I love you.” Y/n said as she grabs Loki’s face and kisses him with the want...the needed to have him.

Loki moves back and rest his forehead on Y/n. “You have to let me go. You have to let me go.”

“Goo...goodbye Loki.” Y/n uttered.

Y/n suddenly wakes up and see Nathan sitting at the foot of the bed. “Nathan.....”

“You were crying.”

Y/n sits up and touches her face and feels that it is wet, she quickly dry her face and looks over at Nathan.

“How long have you’ve been holding back your powers?” Nathan said softly.

“Couple of days.” Y/n answered.

“That was couple of days.” Nathan earnestly.

“I was calm.” Y/n started sad smile. “Queen Frigga, helped me find it and then she was murder and then I saw everyone I cared about turned to dust right in front of me, then I found out Loki is.......dead. I don’t think I could’ve hold it in anymore.” Y/n finished.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Nathan said placing a Comforting hand on Y/n’s.

“The Aether told me that me that in order to stop what I saw from happening I need control over my powers and you look like you have everything together right.” Y/n said.

“Ya I do wait....you want me to teach you?” Nathan asked.

“Besides Charles Xavier you are the only person I’ve met that share powers with me. If what I saw was true then I need to get stronger and your the only person that can help me.” Y/n proclaimed.

“Y/n, you need to grieve...” Nathan disclosed.

“If I do that a lot of people will get hurt.” Y/n told Nathan. “Nathan, I have a strong feeling that the same person that’s going to kill everyone is the same person that tortured Loki.”

Nathan looks over at Y/n and can see that she’s a 100% sure about her theory. “Ok I’ll teach you.”

“What? Are you serious?” Y/a wondered.

“Yes.” Nathan said nodded.

Y/n hugs Nathan like her life depended on it.

I’ll get stronger and have control powers....I’ll stop him Loki

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

At her apartment Jane, Erik, Darcy and Ian hear the sounds of thunder, Jane looks out and smiles as she sees lightning, Jane walks out onto her balcony as Thor appears, they embrace and start kissing passionately; at the same time we see the beast transported from Jotunheim running amok outside the abandoned factory.Inside Out

Chapter 10

Pairing- Loki x Reader

Warning-cursing and killing

Your thoughts and other characters are in italics.

Flashbacks are in bold

“What are you all doing? You need to get out of here! Now!” Jane said run.

“Confirming ship is hostile.”

“Confirm, the ship is hostile. You have permission to engage.” Pilot said into his headpiece.

“Roger. The missile's locked. The missile's on its way.” The pilot releases the missile. “Missile off target! I repeat...”

“Mayday! I'm losing control. Mayday! Mayday! I'm losing control!” The jet is then transported to Valaheim.

As they run through the library ground. “What are you doing?” Erik asked.

“My signal's lost connection.” Jane answered.

Some of the dark elves are behind them chasing after them.

“Jane! Come on!”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

“Are you alright?” Ian asked.

“You saved my life.” Darcy answered.

“Yeah. Yes, I did.”

Back at the library grounds Jane manages to make the device work again and as she uses it suddenly makes Darcy and Ian appear behind her in each others arms kissing.

“Darcy?”

“Jane!” Darcy lets go of Ian and falls to the ground.

“Ian?”

“Selvig!”

suddenly Mjolnir appears and flies past them. “Meowmeow!”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Thor and Malekith are then transported through the realms again with Malekith landing back in Greenwich but Thor ends up in Charing Cross Underground Station

“Mind the gap.” Said the Man over speakers.

Thor turns to one of the passengers on the underground train that's just arrived. “How do I get to Greenwich?”

“Take this train, three stops.” Said the Woman on Train.

“Thor steps onto the train and places his hand on the bar above him.”

“Mind the gap.” Said the Man over speakers.

As the train starts to move, the movement causes the woman to fall against Thor and she stops herself by placing her hand on his chest. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Thor smiles politely at her

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

“Dark One, come forward.” Malekith announced.

“What’s going on?” Y/n mumbled to herself as she looking at where Erik and Jane is.

“We're out of time.” Jane said.

“Maybe not yet.” Erik said looking at Y/n.

Y/n walks up to sphere and walks though it to see Malekith. “I thought Thor stoped you on Svartalfheim.”

“I can not be stoped with the Aether on my side.” Malekith said smugly.

“There’s a first time for everything.” Y/n said as her eyes glow white.

Malekith stands up and gives Y/n a hearty laugh. “You are truly extraordinary, Dark One.”

Y/n looks over at Malekith with a cocked head. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

Malekith points at Y/n’s chest. “That power inside you it comes from the universe. It’s endless,constantly growing, and......dark.”

Y/n raises her eyebrows at Malekith. “Dark.....there’s nothing dark inside me.”

“Y/n!” Jane said rushing off to Y/n

“Jane. Jane!” Erik shouted.

Thor rushes out of the station to watch the Aether taking over Malekith and Y/n is fighting him.

“Y/n, I need to tell you some.” Jane started. “Y/n, Its about Loki.”

“Not the time, Jane.” Y/n snapped.

“No...Loki wasn’t taken back to Asgard....Malekith.....killed him.” Jane said with quiet empathy.

Upon hearing those words it begins to rain hard. The sky was already dark but the sun was able to shine though but now the sun wasn’t nowhere to be found.

Something inside Y/n snapped and the whole area begins to shake like an earthquake. Y/n’s eyes turns black as vines start to slowly form all over her body.

“Oh no.” Nathan whispered from the clock tower as he rushes down.

“Is that why I felt emptiness because you took..Him..From..Me.”

“Y/n! You have to calm down! Y/n!” Erik called out.

“Y/n’s not here right now.” Y/n answered.

“What.”

Y/n moves her hand and picks up Malekith’s ship and move it towards him. “Now Die!!!”

Y/n drops her arm and the ship falls on Malekith. Y/n looks around at all the Dark Elves and shot water arrows at them making all Dark Elves turn drop to the ground.

Jane uses the gavemetric which makes them disappears and appears on Svartalfheim.

Breathe Y/n

Loki

It will be alright I will always be with you

“Y/n.” Thor called out.

Y/n looks over at Thor with eye black. “Is he really gone?”

Thor nods yes. Y/n’s face slowly turns name to normal and just as she is about to fall but Nathan catches her. Thor rushes over to catch Y/n but someone beats him to it.

“Don’t worry, I’m a friend.”

Darcy smiles and throws her arms around Ian and kisses him passionately.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

In New York

At Tony’s tower Bruce is working on something that would change the world, when he looks up out the window and see Northern lights “Tony come look at this.”

Tony walks over to Bruce and looks out the window. “Is that the Northern lights?”

“Yep.” Bruce answered.

“You don’t think it’s Y/n’s doing.”

Tony and Bruce looks at each other with an uneasy feeling crawling up their spine.

Westchester, New York

Jean and Scott is watching tv when an emergency Broadcast on to the channel there watching.

One of the kids run inside the mansion. “Come you have to see this” said the trying to encourage her friend to come outside.

“You want to see what’s all the fuss is about?” Scott asked Jean.

“Why not.” Jean said with a smile.

Jean and Scott get up and walk outside to and they see the Northern lights.

“This is not caused by global warming.” Charles Xavier said as he wheels up to Jean and Scott.

Jean looks over to her left and see Charles and he has a worried look on his face.

“Professor, what’s wrong?” Jean asked.

“Grief, Jean.” Charles answered. “Grief.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Couple of days later, Jane, Erik, Darcy and Ian are in her apartment sat having breakfast quietly.

“He's gonna come back. Except, you know, last time he was gone for, like, two years.” Darcy told.

“Well, it's only been two days, so...” Jane settled.

“Did he say anything before he left?” Erik wondered.

“Yeah, he had to figure some stuff out with his father. He kind of committed treason... on our way out.” Jane looks away and carries on eating her breakfast]

“Oh.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

On Asgard Thor meets with Odin at the palace.

“It was not me who save them it was Y/n.” Thor stated. “Y/n’s powers took over..........Father, I cannot be King of Asgard. I will protect Asgard and all the realms with my last and every breath, but I cannot do so from that chair. Loki, for all his grave imbalance, understood rule as I know I never will. The brutality, the sacrifice, it changes you. I'd rather be a good man than a great King.”

“Is this my son I hear, or the woman he loves?” Odin questioned.

“When you speak, do I never hear Mother's voice?”

Odin sighs.

“This is not for Jane, Father. She does not know what I came here to say. Now forbid me to see her or say she can rule at my side, it changes nothing.”

“One son who wanted the throne too much, another who will not take it. Is this my legacy?” Odin wondered.

“Loki died with honor, I shall try to live the same. Is that not legacy enough? “ Thor declared.

Odin nods his head, Thor then holds up Mjolnir to offer it back to Odin. “It belongs to you, if you are worthy of it.”

“I shall try to be.”

“I cannot give you my blessing, nor can I wish you good fortune.”

“I know.” Thor turns to leave.

“If I were proud of the man my son had become, even that I could not say. It would speak only from my heart. Go, my son.”

Thor smiles. “Thank you, father.” he turns and starts walking off, as Odin watches

Thor walk off.

Odin's form transform to reveal Loki. “No. Thank you.” Loki smiles devilishly.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Sif and Volstagg are taken to meet, The Collector Taneleer Tivan.

“I present to you, Taneleer Tivan, The Collector.” The Collector's Assistan announced.

“Woh, Oh. Asgardians, it's an honor.” The Collector said as he bows theatrically.

“You know why we're here.” Sif stated.

“Of course. But if I may ask, why not keep it secure in your own vault?” The Collector asked.

“The Tesseract is already on Asgard. It's not wise to keep two Infinity Stones so close together.” Volstagg answered.

“That's very wise.” Sif hands the Aether over to The Collector. “I can assure you it will be absolutely safe in...in my collection.”

“See that it is.” The Collector bows his head, Sif and Volstagg turn and leave.

“One down, five to go.”

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Weeks later

Y/n wakes in a bed and sits up fast looking around the room and she’s home her home. He rushes up to her and hold her head in his hand.

“Your here.” Y/n said with tears in her eyes as she covers Loki’s hand with hers.

“You have to let me.” Loki stated.

“No...No..No...I just got you back.” Y/n said as her chin trembling as tears roll down.

“If you don’t you will hurt a lot of people.” Loki said with a voice soft with affection.

“Please don’t make me do this.” Y/n wept.

Loki wipes away Y/n’s tears. “I love you...always.”

“I love you.” Y/n said as she grabs Loki’s face and kisses him with the want...the needed to have him.

Loki moves back and rest his forehead on Y/n. “You have to let me go. You have to let me go.”

“Goo...goodbye Loki.” Y/n uttered.

Y/n suddenly wakes up and see Nathan sitting at the foot of the bed. “Nathan.....”

“You were crying.”

Y/n sits up and touches her face and feels that it is wet, she quickly dry her face and looks over at Nathan.

“How long have you’ve been holding back your powers?” Nathan said softly.

“Couple of days .” Y/n answered.

“That was couple of days.” Nathan earnestly.

“I was calm.” Y/n started sad smile. “Queen Frigga, helped me find it and then she was murder and........ I saw everyone I cared about turned to dust right in front of me, then I found out Loki is.......dead. I don’t think I could’ve hold it in anymore.” Y/n finished.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Nathan said placing a Comforting hand on Y/n’s.

“The Aether told me that me that in order to stop what I saw from happening I need control over my powers and you look like you have everything together right.” Y/n said.

“Ya I do wait....you want me to teach you?” Nathan asked.

“Y/n, you need to grieve...” Nathan disclosed.

“If I do that....a lot of people will get hurt.” Y/n told Nathan. “Nathan, I have a strong feeling that the same person that’s going to kill everyone is the same person that tortured Loki.”

Nathan looks over at Y/n and can see that she’s a 100% sure about her theory. “Ok I’ll teach you.”

“What? Are you serious?” Y/a wondered.

“Yes.” Nathan said nodded.

Y/n hugs Nathan like her life depended on it. “Thank you.!”

I’ll get stronger and have control over my powers....I’ll stop him Loki

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

#loki x black reader #loki x you #loki x black!reader #thor x reader #thor x jane

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cozy-the-overlord · 4 years

Text

Running with the Wolves

Summary: After the events of Infinity War ripped her life to pieces, Queen In-Unga forges forward as sole ruler of Jotunheim, finding solace in the two orphaned wolf puppies she finds outside her sleigh.

AU in which Loki didn’t die at the beginning of Infinity War-- he accompanied Thor to Nidavellir, then to Wakanda, and died in the Snap alongside the Avengers.

Based on Frostbite by @maiden-of-asgard

Word Count: 12,192

Pairing: Loki x Reader/Loki x In-Unga

Read it on Ao3

A/N: So let’s flashback to last summer. I had three obsessions: Avengers Endgame, A Song of Ice and Fire (which I was reading for the first time), and Frostbite by Maiden of Asgard. Those obsessions merged into a story that’s been swirling in my head ever since. I never thought I'd actually write it-- back then, I still wasn't fully comfortable with writing my own fanfiction, let alone writing fanfiction of someone else's fanfiction. But when Moa announced that she was going to be turning Frostbite into a physical book and would be accepting fan submissions, my dumbass brain went "i CaN dO tHaT."

This is the most I've struggled with writing a story ever. I've never written from the perspective of a character that wasn't my own, and I found that to much more difficult than I anticipated. Combine that with how the story I was trying to tell spanned over an overwhelming five years, my constant stress that I was ruining Moa’s characters, and the fact that I kept finding myself in "this-made-more-sense-in-my-head" territory and I started getting pretty frustrated. I had expected to be done by the end of June; when at the beginning of July I was only barely halfway finished, I kind of threw in the towel and said "forget it." I took a week off from writing to clear my head, and after a pep talk from my sister (thanks, JJ!) I decided I had to complete it. So here it is! Am I completely happy with the final product? No, but seeing as I never thought there'd be a final product, I'm proud of myself nonetheless.

One last note (this a/n is obnoxious, I’m sorry): Moa, I did intend for this story to be a part of your Frostbite book, but I totally understand if you don't want to deal with it. It is disgustingly long, and I know that you said that the book is already huge. I won't be offended if you don't put it in-- I don't want to create more trouble for you.

Thanks for reading!

It was freezing.

That was saying something. Freezing was an adjective In-Unga had learned not to use lightly. Living on Jotunheim came with the acceptance that you would be existing in extreme sub-zero temperatures year round, warmth being an elusive gem found only in the recesses of furry coats or underneath thick blankets. In the years she had spent in the realm of the Frost Giants, In-Unga felt that she had come quite accustomed to the cold. It was something she was rather proud of—when Captain Rodgers had visited with Thor a few years back, he had joked that she must have taken some kind of super soldier serum herself in order to handle it so well. She had responded, beaming, that as long as she had Loki, she didn’t need anything else to keep her warm.

She had never really considered the truth to that statement.

Njal, her burly head guard, pulled his mount alongside hers. “The temperature is dropping, my queen,” he said. “Perhaps you would be more comfortable in your sleigh—”

“No.” She hoped her voice sounded stronger than she felt. “I appreciate your concern, but I am perfectly fine as I am.” Just for good measure, she added a queenly nod.

Njal seemed unconvinced, but he bowed his head just the same. “As you say, my queen.”

In-Unga exhaled, trying to ignore the white cloud that enveloped her when she did so. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay out here. She couldn’t see the skin of her hands under her mittens, but she was certain they were blue. Her face, as well. In fact, at the moment she probably looked more Jotun than Midgardian.

But she was determined to continue riding. Loki had always made a point of it, in the early days when his main concern was showcasing his strength. Now that he was gone, she needed to be strong for him, and for her people.

Those that were left.

Her eyes burned in warning, and so In-Unga shook her head and went back to thinking about how horribly freezing it was. The cold hurt less.

Býleistr had questioned her decision to tour the kingdom so late in the year. The weather would be awful, he said. Her people would understand if she waited until spring. In-Unga had argued that waiting brought its own danger: ignoring the far-away regions during such a tumultuous time would foster restlessness, and the last thing they needed on top of everything that had happened was a civil war.

What she couldn’t put into words was how she needed to get out. There were too many missing faces in Utgard, gaping holes in the tapestry of family she had woven around herself. The throne room was empty even when it was full. She couldn’t focus on mealtime conversations because her gaze kept drifting to the vacant seats where her Forest Twins should be sitting. Her bedroom had become a tomb.

She had to leave, before she drowned in the silence.

Shouts at the back of the party startled In-Unga out of her pity spiral. Members of her guard rushed down the line of sleighs, weapons drawn. Those that remained by her side closed in a tight wall around her.

“What’s happening?” she called to Njal. “Are we under attack?” That’s just what we need now. The forested wilderness that surrounded them provided cover to any would-be assailants. Here, they were sitting ducks.

The wind picked up again, ice cutting straight through her many layers, and this time In-Unga found she couldn’t control her shivering. Frozen sitting ducks.

Soon enough, the cries died down, and her guards came riding back.

“All is well, your majesty. It was only a vargr.”

In-Unga thought of Mánagarmr and shivered again. “A wolf?” she asked. “Is anyone injured?”

“No, my queen.” In-Unga didn’t know the name of the guard that spoke. He was a new member of her defense, one of the many who got an unexpected promotion when their superiors turned to dust. “It jumped out at the last sleigh and startled many, but it was small, and taken down rather easily.”

The mortal queen of Jotunheim frowned. “Why would a wolf attack a party this large?” she asked.

“I cannot say, my queen.”

“Your majesty,” Njal spoke. “Shall I give the order to continue?”

In-Unga shook her head. This didn’t make any sense. “No,” she said. “I want to see this wolf.”

It shouldn’t have surprised her that a giant’s version of a small wolf was bigger than a Clydesdale. The majestic animal now lay lifeless in the snow, the pure white of its fur sullied only by the crimson stain spreading from the spear in its neck. The soldier who brought it down was only too pleased to relay the story to his queen.

“It came tearing out of the woods like a beast from Hel,” he cried, waving his hands for dramatic effect, “Snarling and hissing and baring its teeth. Most of us were caught off guard, but I’ve always been quick with a spear, and so when it turned to me, I was ready for it—”

In-Unga nodded, only half listening. She scanned the treeline from which the wolf had appeared. It made no sense to her—what would cause the creature to attack unprovoked? Right now, with the trees casting crooked silhouettes and the wind whistling in her ears, it seemed like an omen.

But of what? She wondered uselessly. What else could go wrong?

A clump of snow caught her eye. For a moment, she couldn’t understand why—it looked no different than any other clump she had come across in her life. Completely ordinary, but… there was something…

Warmth.

It was warmer than the rest.

The realization shocked her a little. Sensing changes in temperature from afar had been one of the skills Loki had taught her (unsurprisingly, given his affinity for snakes), but she had thought she lost it, along with all her other magical abilities, when she lost her husband.

Better make a note of that.

“There’s something over there,” she said, pointing. “In the snow. Something alive.” She made her way off the road, her guards scrambling to maintain their positions around her.

Damn, it was cold. In-Unga knelt in the ice, biting back curses as the snow soaked through to her knees. Getting back on her mount was looking more and more impossible.

The clump whimpered.

She let out a small gasp when the fluffy puppy head popped out of the snow, blinking ice out of its eyes. It shook the glistening snow from its fur with a tiny whine. A petulant growl followed, and a second pup appeared, pushing its way in front of the first and baring its teeth.

“Oh!” In-Unga reached out cautiously, the cold already forgotten. The growling puppy yipped and she pulled her hand back. The other merely yawned.

Behind her, Njal cleared his throat. “My queen, perhaps you should back away. They are feral—”

“That was their mother,” In-Unga interrupted, looking back at the bleeding body on the side of the path. “She must have felt they were threatened by the caravan and attacked. And we killed her.” Although, even that seemed unlikely. In-Unga eyed the wolf-killer where he stood over the body of his prey, animatedly retelling the story of his deed to a growing crowd. It was easy to picture him wandering off the trail and provoking the frightened mother. Her gaze darkened.

Njal shifted uncomfortably. “It is unfortunate, my queen, but at this point there’s nothing to be done. We should continue before the weather takes a turn for the worse.”

“We can’t just leave them to starve!” she cried. She reached out again. The growling puppy flinched but didn’t back away. Its sibling craned its neck to sniff her mitten, sneezing when it breathed in a noseful of fuzz. Puppies in the dead of winter. That’s got to mean something. “Look at them! They won’t survive without their mother.”

“I can give them a quick end, your Majesty, if it would ease your worries,” one of her guards spoke up. “It would be merciful—”

“No.” Her guards stiffened at the ice in her voice. The first puppy nuzzled into her hand, rubbing against her like a cat and letting out a contented sigh when she scratched the fur on its neck. The other slunk forward guardedly, curiosity seemingly cracking its tough guy exterior. To her surprise neither resisted when she scooped them into her arms.

“I’ll have no more killing today,” In-Unga said as she stood. “I’ll care for them myself.”

Huld seemed absolutely horrified when the mortal queen plopped the little balls of fur on the floor of the sleigh.

“My queen, they’re wild animals!” she cried.

In-Unga laughed as the first puppy attempted to burrow back into her coat pocket. “Yeah. Real wild.” Its head popped up at the sound of her voice, and for the first time, In-Unga noticed its eyes: one brown and one blue. “Why, you’re a little David Bowie wolf, aren’t you?” she cooed, scratching its pointed ear. The puppy licked her wrist happily.

Her maid wasn’t quite as pleased. “My queen!” she exclaimed, backing away as the other pup growled. “What do you plan to do with them?”

“Keep them, I suppose. Raise them as pets.” She left the Bowie wolf to rein in his brother. They were both so small—when she held them in her arms they could easily be mistaken for Earth dogs. In-Unga found herself recalling her first sleigh ride in Jotunheim, with Greip and Gjálp and Snowball the Not-Melrakki, how shocked the twins had been at the concept of Midgardians owning pets.

How many years ago was that? Five? Feels like a lifetime.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping Huld was too preoccupied with their new companions to smell her grief.

“Do we have anything for them to eat?” she asked with forced brightness. “Seal milk, or something?” Huld frowned, but obediently prepared a bowl of milk.

“They’re going to grow to be monsters,” she warned. “My queen, you saw Mánagarmr—”

“That’s right, I did,” In-Unga interrupted as her puppies began lapping up the dish. “And let me tell you, these guys are nothing like him.” The tough pup looked up with an offended growl. Laughing, she reached out to pet him. “Although this one thinks he is.”

The maid’s look of concern only deepened.

In-Unga sighed. “Don’t worry, Huld. Their mother wasn’t even that big. They won’t grow up to be Mánagarmr.” She cringed as she thought of the blood-splattered wolf lying in the snow. These puppies were so small, they had to have been born within the last month, after the Snap. Their poor mother survived the event that massacred half of every living being in the universe so she could give birth to her children, only to be stabbed to death by some hotshot with a stick. It was too cruel for words.

His hunger satisfied, the Bowie wolf paddled over to where In-Unga sat cross-legged on the floor and plopped down in her lap, grinning up at her with his multi-colored eyes.

“Awww!” In-Unga stroked his fur as he snuggled against her coat. “Huld, look at this! Isn’t he precious?”

Huld gave some non-descript reply, but In-Unga didn’t hear her. The second puppy was sniffing her boot, chewing on the sole with pearly teeth. “Come here, little guy.” He whined as she pulled him into her lap with his brother but didn’t try to escape. Quickly, they were both snoring.

In-Unga cradled them as the caravan trudged on, completely oblivious to the cold.

Her wolf pups quickly became the highlight of her entourage. At first In-Unga kept to leaving them with Huld while she met with the nobles on their various stops, hoping to spare them from the information overload of court, but they howled something terrible whenever she was out of sight, crying and chasing after her and giving poor Huld nightmares. Ultimately, the queen had two leashes fashioned out of leather, which they wore reluctantly in exchange for accompanying her everywhere she went. It certainly was a sight to behold—she had already looked rather ridiculous before, this tiny mortal woman encompassed by giants, and now here there were these two little fluffballs constantly nipping at her heels— but perhaps it just added to her effect.

They grew quickly. Within a week it seemed they had doubled in size, which In-Unga only realized when she nearly pulled a muscle trying to scoop them both up as she had done when she first found them. Their appetite grew with them. She was seriously concerned for a while that the caravan would run out of things with which to feed them until Njal pointed out one night that they were born hunters.

“Let them loose while we travel, my queen,” he said. “They’ll find food.”

In-Unga frowned. “You think they would come back?” she asked.

Her guard’s gaze traveled to Bowie, sprawled out on her lap fast asleep, his brother hunched protectively over her feet. “I don’t think you have to worry, your Majesty.”

She started taking them off the leash in the morning. At first, they’d only trot alongside her mount, too anxious to leave her side, but soon they were venturing off the trail for pockets of time, reappearing later with some bloodied creature dangling from their mouths. Birds, rodents, small animals—nothing was safe. Her little fur-babies were stone cold killers. She would’ve been lying if she said it wasn’t unnerving to see the little puppies she cuddled up with at night licking blood off their faces, but honestly their prowess was impressive. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when Brynjarr returned one day dragging some furry mammal twice as big as him.

Unlike his brother, Brynjarr had remained nameless for a large part of the journey. He had been bestowed with nicknames of all sorts—Hunter, Tough Guy, Mommy’s Little Fighter—but it wasn’t until they reached Márfjall that he got a proper name.

“That’s a warrior,” Hrossþjófr said to her while watching the two wrestle on the beach. “He needs a warrior’s name.”

In-Unga had been dreading this final stop, dreading having to walk down these hallways alone when the very walls of the castle screamed for Loki. She had resolved be strong, but just seeing Hross as they alighted, withered and wilted without Griep by his side, had been nearly enough to cause her to fall apart.

The wolves kept her together. Their childlike fascination with the crimson sands was almost enough to distract her from the other memories swirling around in the dark bay. In her few moments of free time, she’d take them down to the shore and laugh as they’d go tearing up the surf, Brynjarr barking menacingly at the ocean when the waves crashed too close to his feet, Bowie rolling around in the sand until his white coat was stained pink. Hross joined her often with his children, likely as desperate for a diversion as she was. They didn’t talk about the event. It was easier just to focus on the wolves.

Hross was endlessly impressed with their obedience. “How do you get them to do that?” he asked when they stopped what they were doing and came running at In-Unga’s whistle.

She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said as she attempted to dust off Bowie’s coat before he plopped down on top of her. Even though the two wolves were nearly at the height of her hips, Bowie still seemed to think he was a lap cat. “They just always do.”

Dagný shrieked and buried her face into her father’s chest when the wolves came too close, but her brother leaned forward, his eyes like saucers as he reached for Brynjarr with chubby hands.

“Woof,” he cried. “Woof.”

Hross pulled him away. “Dali, we don’t want to bother the vargr, now—"

“It’s okay,” In-Unga said. “Bryn, sit down so Dali can pet you.”

Brynjarr sank into the sand obediently. Dali gasped in delight as he ran his fingers through the wolf’s thick mane.

“Woof!” he cried again, happily. Hross and In-Unga laughed.

From her lap, Bowie whined for attention. She reached to scratch behind his ears.

“So devoted,” Hross mused. “I’ll have to add it to your song. ‘In-Unga, charmer of wolves.’”

The party arrived back at Utgard just as the winter freeze was beginning to thaw. There was an audible gasp from the crowd gathered when she exited her sleigh flanked by the two animals, but Býleistr only raised an eyebrow.

“There were rumors, but I supposed no one really believed them,” he told her as they walked in.

She smiled. “But you did?”

“Of course,” he said. “If there’s anyone on this planet stupid enough to mistake a vargr for a pet, it’s you.”

“I missed you too, Bý.”

Býleistr and the rest of her advisors tried to catch her up on all the business she had missed over dinner, but the very presence of her wolves was quick to derail any serious conversation.

“They’re so well behaved,” marveled a forest giant In-Unga probably should’ve known the name of. “How does one inspire such loyalty, your Majesty?”

In-Unga forced an artificial laugh. “They only stick around because they know I feed them.”

The wolves laid down at her feet, eyeing the meat on the table. She reached down to scratch Bowie’s back. She doubted the giant had meant anything by her question, but the way everyone was looking at Bowie and Brynjarr was reminding her of the way everyone had looked at her when she first arrived in Jotunheim with Loki, and it was stirring up emotions in her chest that she wasn’t prepared to deal with.

She thought of the golden collar she had worn for so many years, a sign of ownership that had turned into a display of loyalty. She had despised it at first, but by the end she had been proud to wear that collar.

Lokakona. Loki’s woman.

It was in a box under her bed, along with the knife he had given her after the Rann Steinar debacle and the wooden Yggdrasil pendent Griep had given her before her first trip to Asgard. In the days following the destruction of the stones, as the heavy truth that this was a nightmare she wasn’t going to wake up from sank in, In-Unga had collected everything that broke her to look at and stuffed them where she wouldn’t see them anymore.

It hadn’t helped much.

The nights were the worst. It was stupid, because she had lived alone for years before Jotunheim, but now the concept of sleeping by herself made her sick to her stomach. When everything had first happened, In-Unga had refused to even touch the bed. It was too big, too cold, too empty to even attempt sleep in it. She piled furs and blankets on top of the couch and laid there all night, haunted by missing faces and broken memories and outstretched hands that were just beyond her reach. By morning, she’d be curled up so tightly into herself that it hurt to sit straight during the day.

At first, it was just temporary. Wasn’t that what Agent Romanov said, when she finally got into contact with her? They’d find a way to reverse it. Once they were able to locate Tony Stark, they’d find a way. It would be okay. She’d just have to rule in Loki’s stead for a little bit, just like she had before. Keep his realm together for him until he came back. But a month later, she got another call. This time, Romanov’s voice held none of the steadfast determination that In-Unga had been clinging to so desperately. They were gone. The infinity stones, and the people too. It was over. They failed. She was so sorry.

Vaguely, In-Unga remembered asking if she could talk to her brother-in-law, the silence that followed as Romanov went looking for him, her apologetic tone when Thor refused to come to the phone. The next thing she knew she was in the courtyard, heavy snow pummeling her body as Býleistr dragged her back inside with an arm around her waist.

“Are you completely out of your mind?” he snapped. “You’ll freeze to death out there!”

She held up her hand, hazily noting that her skin looked an even darker blue than his.

It was soon after that In-Unga decided to tour the kingdom. The voice inside her head scolded her for the decision even as she attempted to provide political rationale. She was running away. Pushing her problems further down the road in a childish attempt to avoid the unavoidable. Loki would be disappointed in you.

But how could she rule a planet when she couldn’t even bring herself to sleep in her own bed?

So she had left for a few months, for better or worse, and now she was back. After dinner her wolves, obviously exhausted from the long journey, trotted into her old room without issue. Bowie plopped down on the floor and was asleep in seconds. Brynjarr, ever distrustful, made his cautious way around the room, sniffing at odds and ends and barking at items that seemed too suspicious. In-Unga stood in the doorway, watching. It was almost enough of a distraction. Almost. The room was untouched since the last time she had entered, so much so that it still reeked of Loki. The feeling was so strong that for a moment she didn’t trust herself to move.

She entered slowly, drinking in the memories. Loki’s desk, where she’d lean on top of him and read his paperwork over his shoulder, currently piled up with documents he was never going to review. The table across from empty fireplace, where on rare occasions they could have their meals when the only company they felt like entertaining was each other’s. The rug next to the fireplace, where they always seemed to end up after such occasions.

And there was the bed. Brynjarr rushed ahead of her as she made her way to the bedroom, seemingly intent on confirming its safety before allowing her access. In-Unga found herself laughing despite the ache in her chest.

“Does it meet your standards, Bryn?” she asked as he slipped under the bed and out again, sniffing every corner and examining every fur. Eventually, he laid down at the foot of the bed, satisfied.

In-Unga sat down next to him, stroking his ears as he rested his big head on her thighs. This was the last place she had seen Loki. Here, in this room, on this bed. They had been woken up in the middle of the night by a messenger at the door. Groaning, he had dragged himself out of bed to answer it, only to return shortly after considerably more alert.

“What’s wrong?” she asked sleepily as he dressed. “Where you going?”

“Thor’s made a mess of things on Asgard,” he replied, pulling his tunic over his head. “He needs my help.”

“What?” The gravity of his tone woke her up quickly. “Wait, you’re leaving now? What happened?”

He leaned forward to kiss her. “It’s probably nothing. My brother is known to blow things out of proportion. I should be back within a few days.”

“Loki—”

He muffled her with another kiss. “Don’t worry, dröttning,” he whispered against her lips. “It will be fine. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back. “Stay safe.”

And then he was gone.

For months, In-Unga wondered if there was something she should’ve done. Pulled him back into bed, forbidden him from walking through that door? “Stay here with me. Thor can handle it himself.” Would it have even changed anything? Loki had told her about Thanos—not a lot, but enough to understand that his influence stretched across galaxies. Would he still have collected the stones, regardless of whether she managed to keep Loki with her? She didn’t know which alternative was worse: the idea that there was something she could’ve done but didn’t, or the thought that she was so useless that Loki and the others were fated to die regardless of her actions.

Brynjarr whined, sitting up taller so he could lick the tears off her cheeks. She buried her face in his fluffy neck.

“I miss him, Bryn,” she sobbed. “I miss him so much.”

He followed her into bed that night. It was a bit surprising—Brynjarr normally wasn’t one for bedtime cuddles, that was Bowie’s thing—but not all together unwelcome. In-Unga was a little more concerned about the bed—on all fours her wolves were now taller than her, and significantly heavier. But it seemed to hold together alright, minus a few creaks, and honestly, the comforting weight of Bryn’s head on her stomach was worth a damaged bedframe if it came down to it. Slowly, she drifted off to the sound of his breathing.

Court was sparse these days.

In-Unga had become so accustomed to the looming hallway being packed with faces that seeing it half-empty kindled even more anxiety in her chest. The faces that were there seemed anxious as well—although In-Unga was rather certain their apprehension came more from the massive wolves at her feet than the vacancies in the room. Bowie and Brynjarr were still for the most part, but they were always ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

Everything was threatening to them. If someone addressed her with a less than respectful tone, if someone tried too come to near to the throne, they were on their feet, teeth bared and growling. In-Unga found it hard to take them seriously. Bowie was a big sweetie who liked belly rubs and snuggling next to the fire, and whenever Bryn growled, she could only picture the tiny little fluff ball she found in the snow trying to be intimidating. But they certainly succeeded in unnerving the court, a little too much perhaps.

“Maybe I should have them wait outside next time,” she wondered aloud to Býleistr after a civilian who had come to petition the queen had been so frightened he was unable to string together a coherent sentence.

“No, most certainly not,” he countered. “They give you an extra sense of authority. The Queen already controls the Casket, now the vargrs bow to her command—it’s a powerful statement, and Jotuns respect power.”

“I suppose,” she said, thoughtfully. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m ruling through fear.”

Býleistr scoffed. “If your subjects don’t fear you to some extent, then you’re doing something wrong. Besides,” he added, “they should be fearful of your wolves.”

He was probably right. In-Unga trusted Njal and his men with her life, but she knew that if there was any sign of danger it would be the wolves who acted first. Bryn and Bowie accompanied her everywhere, flanking her like a set of furry bodyguards. It was especially odd given how large they had grown—they had long been towering over her, and now were approaching Býleistr’s height. Thankfully, Utgard had high ceilings.

With time, the palace became more accustomed to their presence. In-Unga liked to think that seeing her so at ease with them had begun to rub off on her subjects. If she ever had free time during the day, she’d take the two outside to run around and play in the snow. It wasn’t nearly as spacious as the beaches at Márfjall, but they had enough room to wrestle and cavort around. A crowd usually gathered when she played fetch with an old stick of wood she had picked up while still on the road, watching cautiously with wide eyes. She felt rather like a zookeeper putting on a show in an exhibit.

And if you look here, boys and girls, we have an overgrown doggo in his natural habitat.

It had also become a well-known fact that Bowie and Brynjarr slept in In-Unga’s bed with her. She wasn’t quite sure how this had become a well-known fact—perhaps those in charge of washing her bedding had taken note of the clumps of white fur tangled in the blankets—but Huld told her that this fact was seen as quite impressive to the other servants.

“It’s brave,” she said. “To leave yourself vulnerable to such beasts every night.”

In-Unga laughed humorlessly from where she sat hunched over at the desk. It had been a rough day. “At least they’re impressed. I’m pretty sure Loki’s glaring daggers down at me for letting animals sleep in his bed.” She had meant to make a joke, but there was a familiar lump building in her throat that she couldn’t quite swallow.

Hesitantly, Huld reached out to touch her forearm. “He’d love them,” she said. “He loved anything that made you happy.”

Maybe that was so. But In-Unga was still pretty certain that he’d be pissed—if not for the constantly shedding vargrs taking over his bedroom, then definitely for the stupid ideas that they spawned.

“Alright,” In-Unga said, drawing a line in the air from her chest to the ground. “Lie down.”

The two wolves sunk into the snow obediently, though not without confusion. They clearly expected playtime when she brought them outside, as did the growing crowd of faces at the palace gate. She sighed. This was one time where she’d rather not have an audience, but she didn’t feel right having them dispersed.

“Have I mentioned that this is a terrible idea?” Býleistr drawled from behind her.

“You have, as a matter of fact,” she replied, rubbing Bowie’s neck. He sighed contently, multicolored eyes slipping closed. “I’m still not listening to you.”

“It was worth a try.”

It was Hross who had put the idea in her head, when he had come to visit a month or two ago. Even after he returned to Márfjall, she couldn’t stop imagining what it might be like to ride one of her wolves like a horse.

“Just picture it!” he had said excitedly. “Queen In-Unga, riding into battle alone atop a vargr, casket in hand—”

Býleistr had interrupted to inquire under what circumstances would the kingdom become so inept as to send their mortal queen into battle alone, but In-Unga was sold.

Although, looking at it now, mounting didn’t seem as simple as Hross had made it out to be.

“Okay,” she murmured to Bowie as she made her way around his body. “I’m going to get on your back, buddy. Don’t freak out.” She grabbed a clump of fur on his back—even with him laying down, she had to reach a bit—and tried to pull herself up.

Key word being tried.

“No—what are you doing?” she cried as Bowie stood up with her still hanging off his side. “Bowie, sit down!”

The wolf yawned.

“Oh my,” Býleistr was doing his best to sound disinterested, but she could hear the suppressed laugher hiding under his voice. “Do you need a push?”

“Shut up.” She leveraged herself against the wolf, trying to wriggle her way to a sitting position. Bowie suddenly decided to obey her earlier command and plopped his bottom on the ground, the movement throwing her off enough to tumble into the snow.

“Oof!”

Bowie grinned at her.

Býleistr’s laugh rang out across the ice.

“I take it back,” he said. “That was well worth it. Now, have you had enough of this nonsense, my Queen, or might we go back inside?”

In-Unga was already back on her feet. “Do whatever you want, Býleistr. I’m not finished yet.”

This time, she went to Brynjarr. He was still lying down, despite all the ruckus.

“Okay,” she murmured, scratching his ear. “Take 2.”

Bowie whined. In-Unga turned around to see him lying down with his head between his paws, eyes wide and repentant. “Oh, hush!” she said, rolling her eyes. “You had your chance.”

Pulling herself on to Brynjarr’s back was surprisingly easy, likely because he actually listened to her when she told him to stay still. It took her a minute to get situated and comfortable, seated in a position where she didn’t feel like she was immediately going to slip off. She wondered if she should have a saddle made. But she felt like that would be too complicated—they’d have to get measurements from the wolves since no such saddle had ever been made before (to her knowledge, at least), all the while working on the assumption that Bryn and Bowie would even wear such a contraption.

Besides, she told herself, Daenerys Targaryen rides her dragons bareback without problem, right?

Yes. That was definitely the type of logic she needed to live her life by.

In-Unga clutched his fur as tightly as she could. “Okay, Bryn,” she said, tapping his neck. “Up!”

The wolf rose to his feet in one fluid, graceful motion that nearly sent her sprawling again. Oh boy. She tightened the grip of her legs around his sides. If I die today, blame George R.R. Martin.

She was high. Extremely high. Geez, she had to be at least ten feet in the air! Since when had her babies gotten this big?

Býleistr cleared his throat. “So,” he said, looking up at her (Býleistr had to look up at her!), “Are you just going to sit up there all day or do you plan on doing something? Because if not I would like to remind you that—”

“Hold your horses, Bý.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

In-Unga ignored him. She leaned forward to flatten herself against Brynjarr’s back. “Okay buddy,” she whispered, tapping his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He started off slowly, a fact for which she was exceedingly thankful. He crept ahead almost as if he was tiptoeing, so soft that she barely felt his feet on the ground, a far cry from the clodding she was used to with the wooly rhinos. He wandered around in a circle, continually looking back to check if she was still there.

“Good boy.”

They continued riding in a circle for a while. It wasn’t anything grand, and it was certainly a far cry from Hrossþjófr’s vision of her galloping into battle, but there was still something thrilling about being atop such a powerful creature. In-Unga didn’t have any delusions about being in control—she knew damn well the moment Brynjarr decided he had had enough he’d plop down in the snow and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it—but the illusion of control was enough to make her feel unbelievably powerful.

“Look at me, Býleistr!” she called. “Aren’t you impressed?”

“Exceedingly,” he said dryly. “Are you finished? Remember, we do have things to accomplish today.”

In-Unga frowned. Býleistr was right, of course—she was the Queen of Jotunheim, she couldn’t just spend the entire day playing with her wolves. But on the flip side, she was the Queen of Jotunheim—if she wanted to spend the entire day playing with her wolves, who could stop her?

Just as she was beginning to favor postponing her next few meetings on account of essential wolf training, Bowie rose to his feet.

She sighed. “Bowie, what did I tell you—” The wolf wasn’t listening. He knelt close to the ground, muscles tense as he eyed something in the distance. Brynjarr turned around abruptly, In-Unga grabbing at his mane to maintain her balance. He too tensed, staring unblinkingly into the snow.

She squinted into the distance. At first, she couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary, but the tiniest movement of white fur soon gave it away. A kanína. They were smaller, rodent-like creatures that lived all over the place, not unlike the rabbits she knew from Earth. Their meat was extremely tough, practically inedible to giants and mortals alike, but her wolves loved to hunt them.

Uh oh.

“I think I’m going to get down now,” she said, patting Brynjarr’s neck. “You can chance down that furball once I’m on the ground. Lie down.” Bryn didn’t move. Oh dear.

She tried again, more authoritatively. “Brynjarr, lie down! Brynjarr—” She cut herself off with a very unqueenly shriek as the kanína bolted, the wolves bolting after it.

All In-Unga could do was hold on for dear life. The wind smacked her face as they picked up speed, whistling so loudly in her ears that she could only barely hear Býleistr shouting her name. The landscape flashed by in a blur of color.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit!

“Bryn!” she screamed. “Bryn, stop!”

It was like riding a giant rocking horse running at the speed of light. Straightening up was out of the question, so she flattened herself against Brynjarr’s body and tried to sway with his movements. To the left, she could barely make out Bowie running alongside them, leaping so far that it looked like he was flying above the snow.

Just breath. Focus on breathing. Don’t think about how much it’ll hurt if you fall. Just focus on breathing.

Although… it wasn’t that bad. The longer she held on, feeling the vibration of their paws travel up her spine, the more her panic began to fade. She pushed up a little, risking a glance over her shoulder at the distant dot that was Býleistr. Shit. They were going fast.

Exhilaration flooded her body. This is what Hross had been talking about!

In-Unga, Charmer of Wolves

For a moment, she felt like a superhero.

When she hooted, the wolves howled with her. The kanína was still running in front of them, scrambling to stay ahead, but its time was up: Bowie pounced and had the poor rodent dangling in his mouth in a second, snapping its neck like it was nothing. They slowed down, Bowie stopping completely to grin at her with his prize. Look at me, Mom! Aren’t you proud of me?

In-Unga laughed. “Good boy.”

Trotting back to Býleistr was slightly less thrill-inducing now that she could actually see where they were going without getting pelted in the face with wind. In-Unga made a mental note to have a pair of goggles made for any future wolf-runs.

“So what do you think?” she asked, grinning down at her brother-in-law.

Býleistr gaped at her. He shook his head. “I don’t know why I still haven’t learned to just expect this madness from you.”

She snickered.

After that, wolf rides became a part of In-Unga’s daily routine. Every afternoon she’d climb onto Bryn’s back and take off into the snow for about an hour, flying across the countryside with only her wolves for company. That last detail drove Býleistr mad.

“You are the single most important individual on this planet,” he snapped at her one day. “And, if you’ll excuse my saying so, likely the most vulnerable as well. You need to take a guard with you.”

“I can take care of myself, Bý,” she replied nonchalantly from where she sat with Bowie in front of the fireplace. “You should understand that as much as anyone. Besides, the wolves will take care of me.” Bowie looked up with a grin, thumping his tail against the stone floor in enthusiastic agreement. Býleistr rolled his eyes.

“And when you go flying off their back while they’re running at full speed? How will they protect you then?” He shook his head. “I’d doubt they’d even notice you were missing.”

“That will never happen,” she said stubbornly. “I’d never fall off, and they’d never leave me behind.”

It was easy to sound fearless while bathed in the warmth of the fire, but there were moments where In-Unga was a little less sure of herself (although she’d stab herself before admitting such to the prince). The landscape around Utgard was high and rocky, and although her furry companions were sure footed, she often found herself swallowing her heart as they scampered up craggy ledges.

Still, every hair-raising experience she survived increased her confidence in her abilities as a wolf-back rider and encouraged her to go farther. She taught Brynjarr to understand her commands just by the way she shifted her weight on his back. Luckily, he picked it up easily— trying to yell instructions with the wind blasting in her face got old very quickly.

Bowie took a little while longer, but they got there eventually. He wasn’t as much of a fan of having In-Unga on his back, but he also wasn’t a fan of being left out, and weeks of watching his brother get all the attention for carrying the queen wore him down. Soon enough, she could ride him as well as Bryn.

They tended to keep to the rocks on their journeys. Running through the caves would have been a lot easier, as well as less windy, but the caverns that Loki had carried her through when she first arrived on Jotunheim were haunted by ghosts of memories In-Unga couldn’t bring herself to face. Instead, she stuck to sights less sacred: mountainous cliffs and jutting rocks that Bryn and Bowie loved to race each other around, places so far off the beaten path that there was no chance of stray flashbacks popping up to punch her in the gut.

Sometimes, on the way back from the palace, she’d ride through town. It was a risk, of course, but then again when was anything not? She always wanted to laugh at the crowd that gathered whenever she came through, at the way her people’s eyes would bulge at seeing the giant wolves plodding down the road completely unphased. They would whisper amongst themselves, just as they did that first time she came to the marketplace with Griep, but the words were slightly different.

In-Unga. Vargdröttning.

Usually, she made a point of stopping at some small vendor and purchasing something— a dagger, a blanket, a piece of jewelry— the item didn’t really matter to her. She just liked interacting with her people, asking them about their families, checking up on their wellbeing. With everything that had gone wrong in the past few years, she felt that was the least she could do. That too was reminiscent her trip with Griep. So much had changed since then, and yet still so much was the same. Back then, the Jotuns hadn’t known what to make of a mortal wandering through life on Utgard as if she belonged there. In-Unga got the feeling that they still weren’t sure what to make of her now, but they treated her with respect and grace and that was all she could ever hope for.

Some of the changes hurt. The absence of her Forest Twins was an ache she carried with her everywhere she went. In-Unga had never really realized how deeply she depended on them both until they were gone. Now, without them, she missed them everywhere. At the table during meals. In the throne room when she held court. Just walking through the halls—it was such a silly, stupid thing, but she felt naked making her way through the palace alone even now, a couple years after she lost them.

Most times during her afternoon ride, she’d dismount at the top of some mountain and let Bowie and Brynjarr hunt for a bit. She’d find a rock to sit on, sheltered from the wind, and make a list of all the things she wanted to tell them. How she had been trying to teach Huld to play gin rummy, but Bowie ate half the deck. How Hross had written that Dagný had finally said her first word: daddy. How Býleistr was all pissed off because Bryn had somehow gotten into his greenhouse while In-Unga had let them out to hunt and knocked over some important plants from Alfheim.

Griep would have gotten a kick out of that last one: in the months before everything went wrong, Gjálp had been spending a suspicious amount of time in Býleistr’s greenhouse, something her sister and In-Unga had been relentlessly teasing her about. You know, payback for all the teasing she had doled out over the years. She had been getting pretty annoyed about it.

“I don’t know what the two of you have gotten in your heads,” she had scowled. “Prince Býleistr was simply showing off his imported aster flowers. They only bloom for a short period of time—”

“Riiight,” In-Unga said, smirking. “That’s definitely what he’s been showing you.”

Gjálp sputtered, scandalized, while Griep exploded into a fit of very uncharacteristic giggles.

On her rock in the middle of the snow, In-Unga giggled too. It was nice, having these quick little moments where she could almost trick herself into thinking that everything was fine. They were fleeting though. By the time her wolves returned to her, a few minutes later, she was sobbing uncontrollably.

She missed them so much.

But with everything that had changed in the past few years, everything that had been uprooted and ripped to shreds, at least there remained one constant in her life.

Periods still sucked Hel.

Regardless, In-Unga always tried to carry on with her day as usual. She was the queen, after all—she couldn’t be seen as weak. So, she’d hold court like everything was normal, sit up straight on the throne and pretend she didn’t feel like someone was wringing out her insides like wet laundry. If the giants around her noticed the stench of blood (which of course they did), they knew better than to bring it up.

But today had just been too much. Meetings heaped on top of meetings, every new face bearing a different demand or a different complaint, every new conversation only exacerbating the ache in her head and the knots in her stomach. By noon, she called it a day.

In bed, burrowed into her nest of blankets, In-Unga existed in the frustrating in-between: too tired to be fully awake, but too uncomfortable to drift off to sleep. She buried her face in her pillow and cursed the blizzard outside. It seems periods always worsened with the cold.

From the doorframe, Bowie whined. Brynjarr had easily accepted the reality that there would be no afternoon run today, instead electing to pass out at the foot of the bed, but his brother did not give up so easily. If In-Unga hadn’t felt so awful, she would’ve laughed at him—the doorway to her bedroom was far too narrow for the giant wolf. He was just barely managing to squeeze through.

He whined again.

She groaned. “Can’t play with you right now, buddy.”

Rolling over, she nestled deeper under the covers, seeking protection against the biting cold. It was a useless attempt. She never seemed to be able to get warm anymore.

Bowie padded over to her bedside, his claws drumming on the floor making him sound like some sort of depressed tap dancer. He snuffled at her hair.

“Go away, Bowie,” she muttered when he pressed his clammy nose to her forehead. She pushed his giant head away halfheartedly. “Lie down with Bryn.”

Suddenly, the whole bed dipped, and the giant wolf was attempting to snuggle his way into to her blankets.

“Bow—” she tried to push him away again, with even less effort than before. “You’re too big!” But with a final push, he nuzzled under her blankets next to her, grinning widely and smacking her face with a mouthful of doggy breath. In-Unga winced.

“Such an attention hog,” she groaned, even as she reached to scratch the fur under his chin. “You don’t even care that I’m trying to rest, do you?” He snuggled closer, sighing in contentment when In-Unga shifted so that she was resting her head on his fluffy neck rather than her pillow.

“Yes, you’re a good boy. I’m sorry. I’m just having a bad day.” She heaved a sigh of her own. “Do you know what my small council said to me, first thing when I sat down?”

He cocked his head. In-Unga took that as a sign to continue.

“They think I should get married. Remarried.” She swallowed bitterly. “They said it would help ‘maintain my legitimacy as queen.’ As if I’m not already fucking legitimate!” She smacked the mattress with her palm, glaring at her wolf. “Do you know the shit I went through to get to this point?”

Bowie whined.

“Right, of course you don’t,” she apologized. “You weren’t born yet. But take my word for it, it was a lot.”

On the floor, Brynjarr shifted in his sleep. In-Unga continued.

“And then there’s the whole subject of heirs. ‘Your Majesty, since you failed to have a child to King Loki before he died, you have no one to advance your lineage’—yes I’m well aware of that!” she shouted at the ceiling, blinking the steaming tears from her eyes. “I’m reminded of that fact every damn day of my life! I don’t need you to tell me!”

Her nose was running. She wiped it angrily with the heel of her hand. They had been trying to have a baby, her and Loki. After years of pushing it off, waiting for things to stabilize, they had finally felt ready. Loki had told her not to be frustrated if she didn’t get pregnant right away.

“Our biologies are fundamentally different. It may take some time.” They had been in bed, tangled up in each other under the cover of darkness. In-Unga could still feel his breath in her hair when he leaned down to kiss her head. “Don’t worry, dröttning. We’re in no rush.”

He had gotten called away a few months later, her womb still empty.

“They had a whole list of men they thought would be suitable,” she muttered to Bowie, blocking out memories that hurt too much to touch. “They had organized it all and everything. I felt like the Bachelorette. Totally ridiculous! And they had the audacity to look at me like I was the crazy one!”

The way they had stared at her, when she categorically refused to even consider their proposition. “But my queen, don’t you want to have children?”

Yes. Yes she did. She wanted to have children whose ebony hair matched their father’s, who carried both his intelligence and his mischievous streak within them. She wanted to see her husband’s eyes light up when they learned a new magic trick, wanted to laugh at the regal King of Jotunheim crawling around the room on his hands and knees with his toddler giggling on his back. She wanted to cradle her baby and smile at its sleeping face in awe, wondering at the perfect mix of her and the man she loved so much, a mix that could exist with no one else.

Yes, she wanted to have children. Loki’s children.

In-Unga ran her fingers through Bowie’s fur. “He’s not coming back,” she whispered. “I know that. I’ve made my peace with it. But I can’t pretend that it’s okay. I can’t just… replace him.”

Bowie licked her cheek with a tongue the size of her entire face. In-Unga sputtered, snorting. “Ugh… thanks buddy.” He nodded, moving to rest his head on her stomach so she could scratch his ears. She stroked his long fur absentmindedly. The wolves were the closest thing to children she was ever going to have. She was at peace with that too. Her advisors may not understand, but they didn’t have to. She had done so much for her kingdom. They could give her this.

And so time marched on. Winter turned to spring, spring to summer, then back to winter again, over and over as if nothing had ever happened.

It was a quiet night in her quarters when things changed.

In-Unga was skimming over a document by the fire, having abandoned the desk in favor of the furry rug, a warm blanket, and her wolf-pillows. Bryn’s eyes were fluttering. Bowie was already fast asleep, sighing contently. Behind them, Huld softly cleaned up the remnants of the late dinner she had eaten alone in her room. Save for the crackling of the flames, the room was silent.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the lines of script. The flickering light was almost hypnotic—In-Unga leaned against Bowie’s back to rest her eyes for a moment and found herself unable to sit back up.

She yawned. Probably time to call it a night. Still, she felt so nice here—her bed would be large and cold, and she’d have to get up and walk all the way to the next room to even get there…

In-Unga was just beginning to doze off completely when the high-pitched beep nearly scared her out of her skin.

The wolves were on their feet immediately, knocking her out of her reverie and barking so loudly the room shook. The beeping continued, shrill and ear-piercing, and In-Unga cursed under her breath as she pulled herself up.

I live in a damn circus.

Huld was standing at the table, hands over her ears and red eyes trained on the corner of the room. “Your majesty!” she cried. “It’s the thing!”

In-Unga followed her gaze to the telephone-like communicator Tony Stark had created for them, back when everything was nice and happy and Thor had convinced everyone it was a good idea for Jotunheim to have some method of contact with the Avengers. For the first time in five years, it was flashing red.

She made her way across the room in a fog. The last time it rang… that call had broken her. Broken everything. Told her that the hopeless mess her life had turned into would be here to stay, and that she would have to clean it up alone. In-Unga hadn’t touched the device since. What could Earth’s Mightiest Heroes possibly have to say to her now?

Still, it couldn’t be worse than last time, could it?

In-Unga hushed the wolves, who fell silent at her command, and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

Agent Romanov’s sharp voice said her Midgardian name. “How have you been?”

“Alright, I guess, considering everything,” she answered cautiously. Somehow, she doubted that after half a decade the assassin had just decided to phone for a social call. “Is everything okay?”

She was right. “We’re working on something,” Agent Romanov said. “We’re not positive how everything’s going to turn out, but at the moment, things are looking good. I thought you should know, just in case things get crazy.”

In-Unga frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The Snap,” she said. She inhaled softly. “We think we can bring everyone back.”

In-Unga’s heart stopped.

For a moment, she just stood there, barely comprehending her words.

We can bring everyone back.

Romanov said her name again. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” she said shakily. “Are—are you serious? You going—how is that even possible? You said before—without the stones—”

“I know,” the assassin said. “We still need them. But Stark’s come up with something that would allow us to retrieve them before they were destroyed. We’ve planned out where they are across the timeline, the easiest times and places for us to access them—”

“Wait.” In-Unga’s head was spinning. “Retrieve them before they were destroyed?” She had to be misunderstanding. Surely Romanov wasn’t suggesting what it sounded like she was suggesting. “How is that possible? Unless you have a—”

“Time machine?” There was a wry smile to Romanov’s voice. “Yeah, that’s about right.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story, but like I said, Stark’s come up with something,” she continued. “I know it sounds insane, but we’ve proven it works—we ran a test with Barton, and Lang basically did it unintentionally for five years—”

“Lang?” In-Unga asked weakly.

“You don’t know him. But my point is it’s possible.”

It’s possible.

“Time travel,” she said. “That’s what’s happening? I haven’t gone crazy, you’re actually telling me you can time travel?”

“Well, you did marry the guy who attacked New York, so I can’t say you’re not crazy,” Romanov said. In-Unga was so overwhelmed that the poor attempt at humor didn’t even bother her. “But yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

They’re going to bring them back. In-Unga was shaking. Loki, Griep, Gjálp… they’re going to bring them back!

“When is this happening? How is this going to happen? Is there something I can do?” The questions tumbled out faster than she had time to think.

“We’re going out tomorrow. Technically speaking, everything will only take a few minutes, so we should have the stones by then.”

In-Unga gasped. “That soon?”

“Yeah. We’re not sure exactly how they’ll work once we have them, but Thanos was able to wipe out half the universe just by snapping his fingers, so we’re guessing it’s not that difficult.”

“So, everyone could be back tomorrow!” The shock was beginning to wear off, replaced by a surge of pure elation. The wolves, sensing her excitement, began barking again. “Hey, shut up! Both of you!”

Romanov laughed. “I didn’t know you had dogs.”

“It’s a fairly new development.” So new that Loki and the Twins never got to meet them. Her eyes were stinging. “Tomorrow?”

“Hopefully, yes,” In-Unga had never known Romonov to sound so excited. “That’s why I wanted to get into contact with you. We’re not sure how this will work, what kind of widespread effects it can might cause. I thought you deserved a heads up.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Will you let me know when you get back with the stones?”

“Sure thing.”

“Well…” In-Unga wondered if she was dreaming, if she was going to wake up and curse her stupid brain for letting her hope for a moment. But this was real. This was happening. “Good luck!” she said into the receiver, pulse thrumming.

She could hear the smile in Romanov’s voice. “Thanks. I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”

In-Unga set the receiver down in a daze. When she turned, both her wolves and her maid were staring at her with eyes so wide it was practically comical.

“Huld,” she said quietly. “Get Býleistr in here, would you?”

She spent the next day huddled next to the communicator, anxiously tapping her feet on the stone floor.

Býleistr had been willing to hold court in her place today, but he had been less inclined to share her eager optimism.

“The past has already been written, In-Unga,” he said softly. “That’s not something anyone can change.”

“But there’s a chance they might,” she cried. She pushed the hair out of her face. “A chance. That’s more than we’ve had for the last five years!”

“Getting your hopes up will only cause yourself more pain when they fail. You’ll be grieving all over again—"

“I never stopped grieving,” she whispered. Her eyes were damp again as she looked back up at Býleistr. He sighed.

“I hope it works,” he said. “I do. It’s just—” he cut himself off, shaking his head and abruptly standing up to leave. “Goodnight, your Majesty.”

Behind her, the wolves paced back and forth, whining softly as they picked up on her nervous energy. In-Unga couldn’t tear her eyes away from the phone. Had they left yet? Was everything going to plan? She let out a worried breath. If only there was something she could do. Something besides just sitting here and feeling useless.

By the afternoon Romanov still had not called and In-Unga had completely chewed through her bottom lip. She should have heard something by now. She was certain of it. Hadn’t Romanov said that it was only supposed to take a few minutes?

Huld brought her lunch at around noon. In-Unga left it on the table untouched. She wasn’t hungry. In fact, she felt like she was going to be sick.

Bowie was scratching at the floor. The sound of his nails dragging across the stone put her even more on edge than she was already, but he ignored her when she told him to stop. In the corner, Byrnjarr growled softly.

Her room was warmer than usual. She found herself shrugging off the blanket she usually kept draped across her shoulders in her quarters and letting it fall to the floor. Out of nowhere, she felt confused. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be. Everything was happening at once. It was overwhelming—so overwhelming. She couldn’t think— wait.

These aren’t my feelings.

In-Unga shot up so quickly she knocked her chair over. Bowie and Bryn were on their feet in less than a second, bouncing around and barking at the top of their lungs. With shaking hands, she reached for her neck, for what had become nothing more than an old scar these past five years. At the brush of her fingertips, sparks shot through her skin.

Her gasp melted into messy sobs. “Loki.”

Outside, people were shouting, voices blending together into an amorphous blob of noise. Someone pounded at her door.

“Your Majesty!” Njal shouted. “Your Majesty, something is happening—”

They’re back. They’re all back…

In-Unga barged through her door without a word to her guards, dashing down the hallways at lightning speed with Brynjarr and Bowie trotting at her heels. There were people everywhere—servants, nobles, people gasping, people embracing, people running through the halls like maniacs like her—In-Unga ignored all of them. She flung herself down the stairs with her wolves still behind her.

The room she was rushing to hadn’t been touched in five years. She had felt stupid, giving that order, but having someone else move in was admitting that they were gone forever, and she couldn’t do that.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

In-Unga was completely out of breath by the time she flung open the door. The woman standing in the middle of room looked up as she pressed her fingers to her temple, red eyes furrowed in a frown.

“In-Unga,” she asked. “What is—”

Gjálp didn’t have time to finish before In-Unga crashed into her in a bear hug, bawling.

She sputtered. “In-Unga—”

“You’re back!” In-Unga sobbed. “You’re back! You’re back!”

Gjálp returned the embrace tentatively. “What is happening? What—Norns!” She stiffened, yanking In-Unga backwards. The mortal queen turned to find that Bryn and Bowie had followed her into the room and were now looming over the couch with all the intimidation of a pair of overexcited Labradors.

“Oh no, it’s fine—” In-Unga hiccupped, finding words astonishingly difficult to control in the moment. “Mine. They’re mine. Don’t worry! Uh—lie down!” Thankfully, they obeyed without an issue, their tales flying around like propellers. “See?” She gulped, turning back to Gjálp. She gripped her wrist, just to remind herself that this was real, and she wasn’t dreaming.

“You’re back,” she whispered again, hoarsely.

“You keep saying that,” Gjálp said, still frowning suspiciously at the wolves. “What happened? Where am I back from?”

In-Unga let out a wet laugh. “You were gone. He got the stones and took out everyone—half of everyone, half of everyone everywhere,” she laughed again, because it suddenly sounded funny saying out loud with Gjálp staring down at her like she had lost her mind. Maybe she had. It didn’t matter anymore.

“Your Majesty.”

They both jumped at the unfamiliar voice behind them. In-Unga turned to find herself face to face with a man—a human man, with a goatee and red cloak, standing in the middle of a ring of fire. In a second, the wolves had flanked her, teeth bared and growling.

Shit, I guess I have lost my mind.

Gjálp was the first to find her voice. “Who—what—how did you get in here?”

The man ignored her. “Your Majesty,” he said, facing In-Unga. “I am Dr. Stephen Strange of New York.”

The name vaguely stirred something in her memory. “You died in the Snap,” she said. “You were with Mr. Stark.”

Dr. Strange nodded. “The effects of the Snap may have been reversed, but this isn’t over yet.” He fixed her with a solemn stare. “Your husband needs your help.”

Somehow, she had known he was going to say that. A wave of resolution washed over her. Standing straight, she wiped her cheeks. “What do you need me to do?”

The smoke was stifling. Strange had said it was a war zone, but In-Unga hadn’t expected for even the upstate sky to be blackened with debris. She had been to this compound before, years ago with Thor and Loki. It had felt a bit like stepping into the future, with the manicured lawns and the crisp white doors that whooshed as the slid open automatically. It had been nothing like the scorched wasteland flaring before her. The smoke was so thick she could barely make out the looming warships hovering over the skyline.

The dark warriors lined the horizon, a mass of limbs extending far beyond her range of sight. In-Unga squared her shoulders as she road through the portal. She could see him, standing in the middle of all this destruction, the golden light of the portals casting shadows on his purple skin. For so long, he had been faceless to her, the untouchable enemy who she had never seen but whose name she fell asleep cursing every night. And yet here he was in the flesh, living, breathing, vulnerable.

Thanos.

Brynjarr howled. From her perch atop his back, In-Unga felt the vibration in every part of her body. Bowie joined in, his usually mournful cries dark and full of promise. The sound mixed with the battle cries from portals down the line, words chanted in languages she didn’t speak, but in sentiment she understood perfectly.

You took everything. Now we’re taking it back.

The Jotuns behind her understood too. With deep voices, they answered the cries with chants of their own, shouts crescendoing with every individual rushing through the portal. Utgard had been in such chaos that she hadn’t expected anyone to rally to her call, but vengeance was a powerful motivator. She had stood on the balcony and told her people that the one responsible for their suffering was out there, still struggling to once again rip their loved ones from their arms, and just like that, her armies mobilized.

Now here she was, Queen In-Unga of Jotunheim, facing down the enemy atop a howling vargr, her soldiers armed and ready behind her. She felt strangely calm.

I’m bringing Loki home.

He was here somewhere. Even if Strange hadn’t told her how he had been resurrected on the plains of Wakanda with the other fallen warriors, she would have known. She felt his steely resolve as he prepared for battle, let it swirl and mix with hers across the battlefield.

This is it.

When Thor shouted, she screamed with him. And then they were all running. The appeal of two nine-foot-tall wolves in combat was quickly apparent: her babies tore through alien fighters like rare steaks. Brynjarr didn’t even need to be directed; he seemed to know exactly where to go, when to duck, when to tackle. Bowie cleared a way through the chaos, trampling everyone in his path.

They zig-zagged across the battleground, In-Unga pressed tightly into Bryn’s fur to avoid shooting darts of light and projectiles flying through the air every which way, no clue who was shooting them. A roar consumed the land, built from rallying cries and death shrieks, guns shooting and bones cracking, and in the midst of all this pandemonium, she found him.

Loki threw his blades with a catlike grace, completely surrounded and yet completely in control, as if he had never left.

“Bryn!” she steered him left, and he understood instantly. Snarling, the wolves rushed the scene. Loki whipped around in shock, In-Unga barely registering his fleeting moment of confusion as she felt the thud of alien bodies crushed on the ground. When Loki called out her name she found she could barely breathe.

“Down!” she choked at Brynjarr. She slid off his back to unsteady legs and managed to hold back her tears until she threw her arms around her husband.

The battle faded away. She sobbed on his shoulder, drinking in the scent she thought she’d never experience again, relishing the way he gripped her so tightly she felt as though she might break. She clutched at him too, afraid that if she let go he’d disintegrate through her fingers. He whispered her name against her hair, that soft baritone she thought she’d never hear ever again, and she held him even closer.

He was the one to pull away first, cupping her cheek in his palm as he wiped her teardrops with his palm. His green eyes held her in their stare.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

In-Unga exhaled, the tiniest laugh. Less than an hour ago he had been dead, and he was worried about her?

“Yeah,” she murmured. It was a tiny breath under the rage of battle, but somehow, she knew he heard. “I am now.”

…

“Come on, you scaredy-cat, it’s fine,” In-Unga laughed from atop Bowie on the beach at Márfjall.

“I’m not scared, just concerned.” Loki stood on the ground besides Brynjarr, the two sizing each other up suspiciously. For the most part, her husband and her wolves had been getting along well—at least, well enough. Bowie was still bitter that his place in In-Unga’s bed had been taken from him, and Bryn was untrusting by nature, but it was getting better. Loki still didn’t understand how creatures that showed such savagery on the battlefield could be so cuddly at home.

“Look, if I can do it without a problem, you certainly can manage.” Bowie whined as he shifted his weight between his feet, anxious to sprint down the red sand. She rubbed his neck and fixed Loki with a pointed stare.

He shook his head, smiling uneasily. “You’ve had five years of practice, love.”

“Yeah, which I never would’ve got if I hadn’t gotten on first.” She turned back to the small group watching behind them. “Give me some help here!”

Griep frowned, holding Dagný in her arms. “I don’t know, In-Unga. I don’t think vargrs are meant to carry people.”

“I thought you liked animals—”

“It’s a giant vargr—”

“Now, my precious ice-heart” Hross said, intertwining his fingers with hers. “In-Unga has proved time and time again that there are those more than capable of riding a wolf. Both myself and Prince Býleistr can attest to that.”

Býleistr chuckled. “She fell off the first time she tried.”

“No, no!” In-Unga whipped back to Loki. “That was on Bowie, because Bowie likes to be difficult. Brynjarr has never given me a problem, which is why you’re going to try riding him.” Bowie gave an offended snort.

“I still can’t believe you can tell them apart,” Gjálp said. “They look exactly the same, smell exactly the same—”

“I told you, Bowie is the one with two different colored eyes!”

“But when you can’t see their eyes—”

Dali pulled at Hrossþjófr’s free arm. “Wanna ride wolf!”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” In-Unga groaned. “Loki, get on the damn wolf before I give your spot to a toddler.”

Loki huffed indignantly, but he pulled himself over Bryn’s back and into a sitting position. “Happy, wife?”

“Ecstatic,” she tried to maintain her stern, but the sight of him balancing haphazardly on the back of her wolf made it hard not to grin like an idiot. “Now, tell him to get up.”

“Get up, wolf,” he said emotionlessly.

Brynjarr looked at her in exasperation. Are you kidding me with this guy?

In-Unga sighed. “Tell him nicely.”

He through his hands in the air. “It’s a wolf!”

“Loki…”

“Fine.” He looked back down at Bryn. “Get up wolf, please.”

Behind them, Hross was cackling uncontrollably. In-Unga rolled her eyes. “I think that’s the best he’s gonna do Bryn,” she said. “Come on, up, up!”

Brynjarr grunted, but still hopped to his feet far more quickly than usual. Loki gasped as he struggled to right his balance. She pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle her giggles.

Loki scowled. “I hear you snickering over there. This is why I didn’t want to do this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked innocently. “You’re doing great, sweetie!”

He glared.

Oh, if looks could kill.

“Now what?” he asked sourly.

She leaned forward, clicking her tongue. “Now, you hold on, and try to keep up.”

“What—” Loki was cut off with a cry as the two wolves took off down the rusty beach. In-Unga laughed as they rode alongside each other, Loki clinging desperately to Bryn’s fur. His startled expression morphed into something more sinister when he noticed her amusement.

“I’m going to get you for this!” he yelled over the wind.

She grinned. “You better!”

In-Unga wouldn’t have it any other way.

#running with the wolves #loki x reader #loki x in-unga #frostbite fic #maiden of asgard #loki fanfic

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blackypanther9 · 3 years

Text

Part 24 - Mr. L's Idendity

youtube

I actually just wanted the sound track, but there is none to find so I had to take an animation... That animation belongs to Spas Draws.

Loki jumped up abruptly.

"WHAT ?!", he yelled.

Mr. L stood up too and looked down.

"You heard me. Odin Borson took my family from me. He was knee - deep in our blood, like in everyone else's of the Nine Realms, Loki."

"Who and what are you ?", Loki asked scared.

Mr. L took off his mask and Loki screamed. Under this mask was a Frost Giant, but not just some Frost Giant, it was Laufey. King of Jotunheim.

"Laufey ?! How ?! I killed you !!", Loki yelled.

"You didn't. You killed my brother, and I thank you for that. He tricked me and took over the throne, locking me away in the dungeons. He and I looked the same."

"You work with Dexter ?!"

"I do. We are best friends."

Loki was silent.

"Why were you lying ?", Loki asked Laufey.

Laufey looked at him in confusion.

"Pardon me ?"

"You were lying about your family and mostly your son !", Loki yelled.

"From where would you know that ? Because the great Allfather told everyone lies about us ? He was always a liar.", Laufey snorted.

"He told me that you abandoned your son ! Left him to die ! Cast him out ! Apparently he was too weak and unworthy in your and everyone else's eyes !"

"That is a lie !"

"And you attacked Midgard once ! That was why Odin took the Casket of Ancient Winters from you !"

"He lies ! That are all dirty lies !"

"Where is the proof ?!"

Laufey took deep breaths.

"Look me in the eyes, Loki. You know when I am lying, right ? You are the God of Mischief and Lies, right ?"

Loki nodded.

"Then look into my eyes and read, like listen, closely what I have to say."

Loki did as told.

"Go on, Laufey."

"We never attacked Midgard. We really never did. We kept to ourselves and did our business, like normal folks do. Soon my son was born and sadly, I had to make that official to all the Nine Realms. Every Realm cheered, except one...Asgard. After King Bor died, Asgard was acting...strange. As my son was one week old, we had the plan on putting him on one of these magical stones, they looked like normal rocks, but were filled with magic. When a baby, that didn't get big enough in their months of pregnancy, get put on one of these, they will grow like a normal Frost Giant. Sadly at the same day, as the process already started on our son, Odin attacked us. If we would have taken him back, he could have died then and there or even grow smaller. I left my wife with my son and ran back to the castle, helping my people. Odin was after our Casket of Ancient Winters. It was a mighty artefact and the only source of keeping our planet steady and alive. As Odin defeated me, he took it and we felt the change in our home. Our planet got visibly weaker. And as I returned to my family...they were both gone."

Loki didn't detect any lies there. He got curious.

"Was it just you ?", Loki asked.

"No. All of us had to face it. Odin stole, started wars and killed innocent people. More than you can ever count. Out of these Realms he stole valuables and artifacts. He placed them all as some trophy in his vault in the palace. He told everyone lies about this one Realm, he conquered, and then he stood there as the big hero. He made many enemies. We, the Jotuns, saw through all of his lies, because we talked with all those Realms, he had conquered. They all said the same, he attacked, stole and killed innocent, taking what he wanted. He even took, back home, slaves. Mostly women. Since then we never trusted Odin. And one day he attacked us, so we will never dare to go against him, and just to make sure that it will stay like that, he took my son from me, threatening me with his life. I could still murder this old man for that !", Laufey growled.

"So you never left your son to die ?"

"By the heavens no ! I would never ! I was so happy that I finally had a baby ! It was the most wonderful time in my life ! I was even there when he was born. I loved him instantly. My father senses told me to protect him with all of my being and to even kill everyone who dares to touch him. He was my baby. My son. My family. And to sound very weird...he was my property. He was allowed to touch everything he wants, don't get me wrong ! I would just hate it, if someone dares to say that my son is theirs or even worse, would touch him while he says he wants it to stop. I was overprotective and still not very protective...I failed so bad in being a husband, father and ruler..."

Loki looked at him with sympathy.

"I wish I could've seen him one last time. I wish he would still be here. I wish I could hold him and tell him stories about his mother...Everyone thinks we are Monsters, but deep inside we are huge softies. That better stays in this room. I told you already too much..."

"Thank you.", Loki told him kindly.

Laufey looked at him confused.

"For what ?"

"For telling me the truth."

Laufey smiled a sad smile.

"No problem...Sometimes it just bottles up and I have to let someone know."

"What if I would tell you that I know who your son is and where ?", Loki asked Laufey all of a sudden.

Laufey looked at Loki in shock.

"I don't know...I guess I would say that you are lying. My son is dead...let's face it. He would have known something was wrong with him, like why the heck he was blue."

"What if Odin covered is true form with a spell ?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. So I would kill my own son myself.", Laufey growled.

"Laufey...look at me.", Loki said gently.

Laufey did as told.

"Your son is still alive. Thanks to Frigga he still lives."

Laufey's eyes widened in pure shock.

"You're not joking ?"

Loki shook his head. Then he stretched out his hands.

"Take my hands.", Loki said.

Laufey slowly did. The cold consumed Loki's hands and he closed his eyes. Laufey gasped in shock, but didn't pull away. Loki reopened his eyes and looked at his now blue hands and arms. Then he looked at Laufey, who stared deep into Loki's eyes.

"He was the whole time in Asgard, lied to that he was the second Son of Odin and Frigga. The younger Brother of Thor. Odin put a spell over your Son, to hide his true looks, even from your son himself. He believed his whole life a lie and tried to be accepted by Odin, who always pushed him away with hate and disgust. While Frigga was totally opposite. She showed your Son love and Magic, teaching him right and wrongs. He found out that he was a Frost Giant 2 years ago and was hurt badly as he did. He found it out on Jotunheim, fighting against a Frost Giant, but that Frost Giant grabbed him. Instead of getting a burn mark, his arm turned blue.", Loki told Laufey softly.

He let tears fall, while he told Laufey about his discovering and pain.

"Then he confronted the Allfather about it and he told your son the truth. He was cast out by his own Father, Laufey, and Odin found him suffering and left to die. He took the little one in and thought that he could bring eternal peace through your Son with Jotunheim and Asgard. But the truce was broken because of Thor and the plans no longer mattered. Your Son lost himself and started to destroy his own home, with the help of the Bifrost. Killing his father in Asgard too. He got stopped by Thor and then fell down the rainbow bridge, into an eternal abyss. He hoped he would die there, but he got taken by someone else, tortured and forced to take over Midgard."

Laufey looked mortified, then angered.

"I will kill the people who tortured you. You are my Son. I will murder them all...", Laufey growled out.

"Please leave Dexter in peace. I love him..."

Laufey looked at Loki surprised, then he smiled and laughed softly.

"Alright, I will let him slip.", Laufey winked at Loki.

Loki chuckled weakly, wiping away his tears.

"And Frigga ?"

"She didn't hurt you, did she ? She was like a Mother to you, or not ?", Laufey asked Loki back.

He smiled.

"She is still like a Mother to me. I love her for that.", Loki mumbled happy.

"See ? She is off of my naughty list."

Loki looked at Laufey in awe.

"Now come with me. We will have a great Dinner now. And later on we go to Dexter and have a few words with him, M'kay ?"

Loki wiped his happy tears and nodded smiling. Laufey stood up and offered Loki his hand. Loki took it and stood up. Then they both walked back outside to the table. Frigga gasped as she saw Laufey. Oh Boy...that will be fun now...

Masterlist HERE !

#Part 24 - Mr. L's Idendity #Loki x Reader #Male!Loki #Male!Reader #Fem!Loki #Demon!Reader #Genderfluid!Loki #MCU #Loki Odinson #Marvel #Loki Laufeyson #Fanfiction #Avengers

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alirhi · 3 years

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FINALLY!

Y'all, I am so happy this story finally got to this point! 😁🥰

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 13/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. WARNINGS: violence, murder, the fun stuff XD Notes: They're back together! ...sorta lol

"I want you to know I was against this." Those were the first words out of Loki's mouth as his brother approached him. Oddly enough, they were the first words out of Thor's mouth, as well, at the same time. They both stopped, stared at each other for a long moment, and then Thor chuckled and Loki shook his head.

"I don't need your help."

"Heimdall thinks you do."

"He underestimates me." Crossing his arms, Loki smirked at his adoptive brother and took a calm, deliberate step back when Thor moved forward. "You all do."

"I'm beginning to learn that," Thor agreed with a wry smile. "When did you learn to cast solid doubles?"

"I've done it before, you just didn't notice." He gestured toward the bunker; it was hidden from view by a hill between the brothers and it, but Loki had scouted the area while he was waiting and knew where it was. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

His brother was staring at him again. When he huffed and demanded why, the witless wonder had the audacity to ask, "All this over a human?"

He almost marched over to him and put a knife to his throat, but even angry, Loki wasn't stupid. Every once in a while, Thor's one brain cell would fire off with some actual intelligence, and he wouldn't risk being in easy grabbing range if that happened again. Hands shaking from the overwhelming urge to do some serious bodily harm to his idiot brother, he growled, "You nearly gave up your life for a woman you don't even know. I challenge you to find anyone in the cosmos with less right to judge me!"

"I'm not judging, brother." Thor shrugged a little. "I'm confused. Why did you never mention him, in all this time?"

"If I haven't spoken of him to you in nearly seventy years, what in the name of Odin's good eye makes you think I would do so now?" He turned and started marching over the hill, snapping over his shoulder, "If you're going to help, help. Otherwise, stay out of my way. Anything between me and my Sergeant dies today."

"I didn't know you were capable of such devotion to anyone but yourself."

Ugh. He was still talking? "As usual, brother, that's because you don't pay attention."

"To be honest, I always thought you would end up with Sigyn."

He couldn't help smirking a bit at that. "I have. We married in a little grove on Vanaheim five hundred years ago."

"So you're abandoning your wife?!"

"Monogamy isn't the only path, Thor." Loki rolled his eyes, picking up the pace a bit when he noticed his brother getting too close to him. "Sigyn has never been the jealous type." He paused, and added with a slight edge to his voice, "In fact, if I can remain free long enough to ever see her again, I think she and the Sergeant will get on."

Thor paused as well, mercifully remaining just out of easy reach. "Why do you keep calling him that? It's not as though Heimdall hasn't already told me his name."

"Because he's not James," he explained with an annoying crack in his voice. "If I can't get him out of there, he may never be again." And honestly... I love them both.

They resumed walking, and Loki had about half a second to think he might actually have a moment's peace before the massacre ahead... And then Thor opened his mouth again. "So how did attempting to blow up Jotunheim serve-"

"Do you never tire of the sound of you own voice?! I did, a thousand years ago!"

"Tire of my voice, or your own?"

With a growl, he stopped dead and spun to face the idiot, only growing angrier when he saw the irreverent grin on Thor's dopey, bearded face. Once again squashing down the urge to stab or strangle him, Loki snapped, "I'll see you inside. Or not." And then he simply teleported the rest of the way, leaving Thor to run after him or leave; either option suited Loki just fine.

As he was gleefully tearing humans apart in the bunker a few minutes later, he heard pounding on the door and rolled his eyes. So, Thor hadn't left. Well, if he ever got inside, perhaps he could help clean this mess up.

One of the enormous metal doors nearly took him out as it flew across the facility. Hastily jumping back out of the way, he watched it mow down four blindsided HYDRA operatives and blinked. "Well." With his usual cocky smirk, he nodded to Thor. "Nice of you to join the fun."

When there was no response to his taunting, he was a bit disappointed... until he followed his brother's horrified gaze and saw the pods lined up in a semicircle in the next room. "What the...?"

There were six of them, each with a man or woman seemingly unconscious within. Loki paced the room, taking in and quickly dismissing in turn each face; none were the one he was looking for.

He stopped at the fourth chamber and felt his heart shatter as he pressed his hands to the glass. "Sergeant..."

While the others were seated nude in their chambers, Bucky had been frozen standing, still in the outfit Loki had come to think of as his harness and muzzle. It was so clear at a glance, just from how they were treated while frozen, that all the others were there voluntarily, and Bucky was a prisoner.

"That's him?" When Loki nodded, Thor placed a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder and urged, "Stand back."

"You can't just break him out!"

Both Gods turned to face the source of this new voice. A trembling, agitated man in a white lab coat who reeked of fresh urine and fear was gesturing wildly. "This equipment is delicate! Without the proper procedures-"

Loki appeared directly in front of him and gripped him by the front of his shirt; he wanted to grip him by the throat, but restrained himself. "Will it harm him?"

"Yes."

He searched the man's eyes for a moment, until he was sure the wet, shivering weasel was telling the truth, and then he shoved him toward the control panel. "Then begin the procedures."

"But-"

"Wake him!" There was something so satisfying about pressing the point of a dagger into the base of someone's spinal column. Loki smiled, looking directly into those wide, terrified brown eyes, and added more pleasantly, with a little extra pressure on the blade, "Please, doctor. And do be a dear and ensure he wakes safely, with no ill effects, won't you?"

"Y-Yes... Of course."

"You're a monster, brother." Despite his harsh words, there was nothing but amusement in Thor's tone, and his expression when Loki glanced at him. "He's already soiled himself."

Loki shrugged, still smiling pleasantly at his hostage as the man's hands flew over the controls. "Fear can be quite a powerful motivator. Wouldn't you say, doctor?"

"Y-y-yes, sir." With a desperate glance at him, and then at the pod, he told the brothers, "I-it will take a few minutes. When the glass lifts, be ready to catch him."

"Thor."

"See?" With a grin, he turned toward the frozen assassin, waiting. "You did need my help!"

"He's only human; I can lift him easily."

"Yes, but you've got the other one to babysit."

He glanced at the trembling scientist and nodded somewhat absently. That was true; inconvenient, but true. Thor would never have the stomach to do what must be done next, so he'd have to be the one to catch Bucky. As the glass began to lift, Loki asked, "Once he's out, is there anything else that needs to be done?"

"Th-the machine-"

"Not to control him!" Watching the man flinch and cower, he sighed and lowered his voice. "For his health, sir. Are there any ill effects on his wellbeing from that chamber?"

"Not that we've noticed."

Not that you care about, Loki corrected silently, rage boiling over again. "Good." If there were any ill effects, he would simply have to deal with them the best he could when they arose. Bucky was in Thor's arms now; with no further use for him, Loki drove his dagger through the doctor's spine, angling up to get as many organs as he could in one go, as well.

"Loki!"

"If you knew what I know," he told his angry brother calmly as he removed the knife, made it disappear, and dropped the body, "you'd hardly mourn him. Any of them." He marched over to where Thor was laying Bucky across a table, desperate to be near his love even if he wasn't awake yet. "And I did warn you."

"You truly believe there's no chance there's a single innocent soul in this building?"

With an icy look that made the other man shiver, Loki growled, "The only innocent in HYDRA is lying before you, brother. The rest are monsters, and every last one is marked for death."

_____________________________________________________

Next Masterlist

#fanfiction #mcu #loki #bucky barnes #thor #thor 2011 #avengers #captain america #the first avenger #m/m #loki/bucky #reunited and it feels so good #lol i'm giddy #i'm so happy!!#tom hiddleston #sebastian stan #winter's frost

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justjessame · 3 years

Text

Glorious, Before the Burden - The Mourning ~ 5

I was with Frigga when he came - the Frost Giant Laufey come to finally rid Asgard of his greatest enemy Odin once and for all - but Loki, MY LOKI arrives and does the impossible as Frigga holds me back, using her body to block mine - he kills Laufey and ends the danger of Jotunheim forever. Or does he?

What happens next is a whirlwind - or so it seems to me when I try to untangle it later. Loki, Thor, Odin - the push and pull - the Bifrost and Heimdall - and then there were two and Loki was gone.

Odin has questions, even the all knowing Allfather doesn’t know everything, it seems. I’m called before him, alone - to account for Loki and his actions. As his faithful wife, as the one person who stood fast beside him, who never faltered, not even when his true nature was known - surely I KNEW all of Loki’s plans and machinations.

I knelt, as a loyal subject should - even a member of the royal family is not exempt, especially the wife of a traitor - as Odin tossed questions at me as rapidly as an archer might arrows at a target. Each hit closer and closer to the mark - my heart - and I bled a touch more.

“Sigyn, now that he is dead -” my head rose, eyes finally locking on Odin’s face. “As his widow -”

“He’s not dead,” Odin stared down at me, silent not only because I dared interrupt him, but because of my insistence that Loki lived on.

“You loved him,” he sighed, trying to dismiss my knowledge as wishful thinking. “Grief in the earliest stages -”

“He isn’t dead, my king.” Immobile and straight backed, I stood up. “If my husband was dead, I’d KNOW it.” Much as Loki knew where I was, as he’d insisted when he finally admitted having found me in the garden due to what he called my glow - I knew beyond a doubt that should Loki cease to live, I would KNOW. “He lives on.”

“Where is he?” And so a new round of questioning began -

Frigga rescued me - hours into Odin’s interrogation - entering the throne room that Loki had coveted so badly and insisting that he allow me to rest.

“She needs to lie down,” she didn’t raise her voice, her eyes were on her husband’s face, her jaw as tense as her son’s could get and her hand on my shoulder. “No matter what you THINK you’ll get from this, Odin, what you’re doing is torturing her.”

I hadn’t raised my voice either, nor asked for a break or reprieve. If my king wanted to question me until I dropped over, then so be it. I’d done nothing wrong, I’d simply loved my husband. Where was the crime in that? Frigga didn’t wait for Odin to give her leave to help me to my feet and remove me from his presence - she simply took me.

I was weak, but not from lack of rest or from hunger. I was weak because he was gone and we hadn’t made peace before he’d gone. Our final words - mine to him at least - had been in anger and pain. He knew I loved him, but he didn’t know that I would stand fast beside him still - even now.

“Come, Sigyn, let’s get you settled and -” Frigga had tucked me into her side, and she kissed my temple. Sighing, I could feel her breath catch. “A little respite away from my husband might make things look slightly less bleak.”

One of my newly acquired and quickly becoming normal dark laughs escaped, but I didn’t pull away from the comfort of my queen’s embrace. “It will always be bleak, Frigga - Always.” Until I see Loki again, I thought, but something told me that day wasn’t coming soon.

I wasn’t a prisoner - not a regular one, at least. I wasn’t in chains, nor was I kept in one of the cages where criminals were taken. Yet, I wasn’t free either. Guards were assigned to me. Everywhere I went, I was flanked by at least two - and I had a disconcerting feeling that they were keeping records of where I went, what I did, and what I said. My rooms were searched and anything that could be used to cause harm - to myself I was told - was taken. Including the hair ornaments that Loki had made before our trip to Midgard.

No trips to the garden at night for peace, not with two guards standing watch inches away from me. Baths were even problematic, since the depth of the water could be used to end my suffering. I tried to assure Odin, Thor, and even Frigga that I would never consider ending my life, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

Odin would randomly request an audience - always alone and in the throne room, as if I cared for the throne - and he’d begin the rapid fire interrogation again. Insisting that if I KNEW Loki was alive, then I MUST know where he was - perhaps OUR plan all along was for him to escape and regroup for another attempt at Asgard’s throne.

“Attempt at the throne?” Shaking my head as I looked up at a king I’d once considered more a father to me than my own. “You once told my husband, as a child alongside Thor, that he had every right to this throne - that either of them did.” I sighed, feeling empty and exhausted to my very marrow. “Loki is the product of YOUR tales to him, Allfather. You filled his mind with the idea that he could be king, and then you chose Thor -” I shook my head as if to clear it. “I had no idea that he planned ANYTHING with ANYONE, but he IS my husband, and I DO love him.”

Why was that such a crime? “Still?” I didn’t drop my gaze or my chin. “You love him STILL?” He received nothing more from me, not after I’d told him multiple times that I did. “A traitor to your people, and yet you LOVE him still.” He mocked me. As if love was both silly and a crime.

“I do,” my eyes were burning again, but I refused to allow Odin to see me cry. “I will love Loki until the day I take my last breath, my king.”

“I hope you don’t have cause to regret your loyalty, Lady Sigyn.” He bit out, clearly thinking I should already regret it.

I found Frigga soon after, she was gazing into the distance, lost in thought so deeply that she didn’t answer when I softly called her name. Growing closer to her, I realized that much like Loki - she wasn’t HERE. I waited, patiently, my guards standing at a careful distance now that I was within the presence of the queen and when she rejoined her body, I bit my lip and waited for her to notice me.

“Sigyn,” her eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and a twist of confusion and fear gripped me. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Nodding, I prayed that I could hold the tears that were still threatening my burning eyes at bay a little while longer. “Yes, well, Odin just released me from another conversation -”

“Oh,” Frigga finally looked into my face, and concern washed over her entire being. Reaching out, she took my hands in her. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” assuring her that I was growing used to it, I wondered if I wanted to ask her where she’d been when I came in? “I - I fear what comes next.”

Eyes narrowing and brow furrowed she studied me, “what do you mean?”

“If Loki returns,” she waited. “He won’t have a hero’s welcome.” Her lips thinned and I knew she understood. “If he doesn’t -” the pain of never seeing him again was unbearable. “Either outcome is -”

“Yes, I understand,” her eyes searched my face, looking for something, but she didn’t seem to be able to find it. “Sigyn, you’ve been so strong, and so very loyal and worthy of my son.” What was coming was going to be terrible, I knew it. “You need to know -” Frigga weighed her words carefully. “If a choice has to be made - choose YOU.”

What? “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” she didn’t look happy about it. “You will.” She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

#loki x sigyn #loki #loki series #sigyn #thor 2011 #alternate universe #bear with me

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miniherodesktales · 4 years

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I sometimes wonder if Laufey abandoned Loki because of a Greek style “your son/male relative will kill you one day and nick your throne” prophecy.

I probably missing some but in Greek myth...

Laius was killed by Oedipus (the guy who fell in love with his mother)

Acrisus taken out by grandson Perseus

Pelias received a prophecy that he would be murdered by his nephew Jason, In the version I know he was actually murdered by Jason’s scary gf Merda. I guess this is considered close enough?

Anyway, it didn’t matter what these wicked men tried in order to cheat the prophesies - whether it was exposing the infant in the wilderness, locking them in chests and throwing those chests into the sea, or sending them on dangerous adventures - it never worked. The child always survives to grow up to fulfill the prophecy.

Usually the evil king believes his plan had worked. He is blissfully unaware that his offspring had survived, usually recused by a kindly shepherd or fisherman or some other poor couple. He becomes arrogant, thinking he has cunningly conquered Fate,

He doesn’t realise the truth until it is too late.

Imagine if Laufey in attempt to cheat his prophesy orders that his unnamed infant son be killed. Of course he’s too arrogant to watch to make sure that the deed is properly done.

As is the way with these stories the his servants bungle the job or they don’t have the heart to kill a baby. So they leave the infant’s life - or death - in the hands of the frost giant gods, and place him front of the temple. If he dies of cold or hunger or is eaten by a wild beast then so what? At least they don’t have his blood on their hands.

And they’re too busy with the battle with the Aesir to stick around to watch.

They don’t get to see Odin find him....yeah, I said that normally it’s a humble shepherd that finds the kid and not a king, but Odin has reputation for dressing up as an ordinary peasant man, right? Odin is known for finding infants abandoned at the cross-roads.

Either way Laufey believes his child is dead. He’s safe.

The years slowly pass and Jotunheim continues to suffer under the peace treaty forced upon them by Odin. It was accept the Aesir’s terms or be destroyed.

Layfey hears snatches of news from Asgard, but not much. The Aesir like to keep them in the dark - literally and figuratively.

He hears that Odin has two sons. Thor, everyone can’t stop talking about him. Loki, the younger one, isn’t so interesting...until he enters the ice realm without even Heimdall seeing him with a mutually beneficial deal to place on Laufey’s table.

Laufey happily accepts. He’s nothing to left to loose and everything to gain. And he plans to impale the youngest child of Odin upon a pike of ice as soon as possible.

Things don’t go to plan.

“And your death came by the son of Odin.”

Maybe in that final second of life Laufey saw the truth, recognised Loki as his own blood and felt horrified as he saw his own prophesy about to be fulfilled; Fate’s way of enjoying a little karma. Or maybe he didn’t.

Maybe this theory is rubbish, but it was fun to write.

#loki #MCU loki #fan theory

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 62 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

Loki watched as Ella stretched her back. “When do we leave?” She turned to face him as she spoke.

“We?” “You nearly died there in the heat of their Autumn, in their Summer, you all will suffer. It is not like there is much of an argument for me staying.”

“Ella, you are too…” She glared at him. “No.”

“I know what I can take and I assure you, I can take this.”

“But…” “Do you think I would risk him?”

“Never,” Loki answered immediately. He knew she loved the child growing in her. He knew she would die before risking their son.

“Then believe me when I say, I can take this and I am coming. So, when do we leave?”

Seeing that nothing would make her change her mind, Loki sighed in resignation. “The end of the week.”

“I better begin preparing, so.”

Loki watched her go to do so, noting how she moved with Gungnir in her grasp. It seemed entirely natural to her.

“She’s coming?” Býleistr stared at Ella who was preparing something closeby. “Are you insane?” “Firstly, my mate is not named ‘She’, secondly, if Ella chooses to come, none can stop her, not even me.” Loki walked past his brother as he spoke.

“Alma is remaining. If she were my mate…”

“‘She’ as you insist on calling her, is not your mate though, is she? She is mine and I will not dictate to her such things. I voiced my concerns as to her travelling so far into pregnancy but she is healthy and feels there is no risk to the child, thus she has decided to come along. Not that it is any concern to any other than herself and indeed myself. Also, as she so validly pointed out, we would be at risk of melting in Alfheim at this stage of their year. The heat and humidity eclipse that of what we suffered in the war. Her ability with seidr alone would assist us, with Gungnir…”

“Does it not concern you that she just walks around with a weapon that could kill us all?” Býleistr eyed Gungnir warily.

“Why would I? You need to be a competent seidr wielder to even hold it, the only seidr wielder on this whole realm is my mate who is very much only interested in helping our realm,” Loki dismissed. “She would rather slit her own throat than allow herself to be used to hurt us.”

“What if it was her child or us, do you think she would be willing to sacrifice it for our realm?” Loki glared at his brother. “How dare you even suggest such a horrific situation. If I were to be so heartless of Alma you would want to impale me were I to breathe such words.” “I am just worried about our realm, Loki. Just like you. She is not Jotnar, she is in possession of a weapon that our father specifically stated can wipe out our people in an afternoon if she so chose to.” “Yes, we were all told of that blasted thing but Ella would never use it against us so your worries are unfounded and insulting to my mate. She is more selfless than you could ever hope to be,” Loki snarled before walking off.

“Why is he so…?” Býleistr looked to Helbindi confused.

“Pissy? Gee, I wonder, maybe, and is just a wild guess, but maybe our brother does not like you being so accusatory and demeaning to his mate and the dam of his offspring?” Helbindi commented sarcastically. “Why are you always so apprehensive about Ella, she has never deserved your reactions to her?”

“She is Odin Allfather’s daughter, why am I the only one of us that sees that this is a concern? What if that child is more Aesir than Jotnar in demeanour and we end up with an Odin on our throne?” “Well, this child is more Vanir than anything else but he will be raised here, with his sire as king and as a Jotnar. According to Loki, he is Jotnar in appearance too.” “Does that not seem odd to you?” Býleistr demanded. “To be able to say such before it is even born, how do we know she is not feeding some lie to him? This idea that it is male, or looks like us? There is no way to know these things.” “The Allfather was able to tell Ella was female before she was born and made a deal with Father with regards to her?” Helbindi pointed out.

“I would put nothing past the Allfather. Even if it...actually, that would explain a lot.” Helbindi could not fit the pieces together of what his brother was saying to see things as his brother did. “What would?”

“Why Loki’s mate is different to how the female gender is supposed to be in Asgard. The Allfather altered how she was meant to be from male to female.”

Helbindi stared at his brother in shock, unable to say anything to counter the entirely ridiculous words he was hearing. “I honestly do not know what to say to that, I really don’t. Have you any idea how insane you sound?” He shook his head. “That is insulting, both to Ella and to all female Aesir. We have little knowledge of them.” “They do not place much value in them,” Býleistr pointed out.

“Most realms don’t but then again, a daughter of the Allfather could only ever be a formidable being.” Helbindi looked around and saw his mate speaking with Ella nearby. “I am not speaking of this with you any further. It is insulting to your brother, his mate and your future king also.” He stated as he left.

Býleistr did not know what to think as Helibindi walked off. He looked over at his brother as he spoke with Greta and Ella, who smiled joyfully with them, teasing Helbindi as he publicly showed affection for his mate. When it came to Ella, he always felt uncertain. He was not overly old when the war took place but one thing that remained with him was the instantaneous difference the removal of the Casket caused. He remembered the crops dying, the brightness of the realm fading all too quickly. He would never forget that. The image of the Aesir guard holding their Casket, their life source, in his hands as they marched from the realm imprinted in his mind since then. The Allfather, the supposed “Protector of the Realms” left theirs to rot, that filthy staff in his hand, ensuring none could stop him. The light beaming on the gold of Gungnir brought his attention to the staff once more. He knew Ella was not the Allfather but she was his daughter, there was no way in which she did not inherit some of her sire’s traits. When she glanced at him, he felt himself tense. Her eyes reminded him of the Allfather, the same colour, the same air, it made him feel uncomfortable.

“‘Bind, what is bothering Býleistr?” Greta asked curiously, noting Býleistr’s peculiar look.

“Nothing. He’s just being ‘Leist,” Helbindi stated. “Why don’t we get ready to go?” He suggested, turning to face his older brother for a moment, giving him a warning glare before urging his mate away. “Ella?” Ella eyed Býleistr for a moment longer, noting the manner in which he was looking at her as she turned to prepare to leave.

When Loki arrived, flanked by Arden and a few others, he immediately sought Ella, using the shining gold staff to assist in seeking her out. When she saw her mate, she smiled brightly at him but something seemed slightly amiss in her eyes as she did so, “Are you alright?” Loki asked worriedly.

“Fine,” She smiled again, showing once more something was slightly amiss. “Are we ready?” “When you are.” Loki stood back slightly. Still worried as to what was bothering her but knowing that there was little chance of her telling him with how she was acting. He had thought that they would be forced to use the Bifrost to travel between realms but Ella had scoffed at such an idea and merely told her mate that she would deal with it. He worried slightly as to what that meant but seeing her standing with Gungnir in her hand and with a simple tap of it on the ground, a gold circle began to form in front of them, becoming bigger and clearer until the centre showed the green forests of Alfheim. On seeing such, Ella stepped forward through the portal, Loki following a mere half-step behind her before the rest of the Jotnar joined them.

Loki knew that they should be suffering the humidity that was clear to see around them but he felt as though he was still on Jotunheim. He looked to his side to see his mate smiling knowingly at him. “Thank you. I...What is wrong with Býleistr?” He looked over at his brother worriedly. “I do not think he wants me to use Gungnir on him, so I did not. That is what I gathered at least.” She walked away boredly.

Loki walked over to Býleistr, who was gasping for air. “Your mocking of my ability to sweat is coming back to haunt you, I see?” “I…”

“What did you say of my mate to say she is not assisting you now through this heat and humidity?”

Helibindi and Greta looked at Býleistr curiously. “Just say it, ‘Leist, or I will.” Helbindi urged.

“I…” “He accused the Allfather of altering my gender whilst in my mother’s womb to forge a deal between our realms and that is why I am so masculine in manner, nothing, of course, to do with some women not being shrinking violets.”

Loki was used to hearing Ella converse with him with the use of her seidr. Looking at his brother, he scoffed. “Sounds like you deserved it.”

“How…?”

“Did she tell me? My mate is incredibly talented at everything she does but especially with regards to her seidr. Perhaps next time you are speaking ill of her, you do not do so while glaring at her, it gives away some ill-intent.” He smirked. “Ella?” A moment later, and with a shimmer of gold encircling him, Býleistr sighed in relief as he once more.

Loki stood in close over his brother, his lips to Býleistr’s ear. “Let this be a warning to you, Brother.” His voice was merely a growl as he spoke. “If you insult my mate again, I will not be so quick to convince her to bestow any assistance or kindness she may consider to put upon you. She, I can assure you, is entirely female but as you are not in possession of the sense to see that masculinity does not automatically equate to leadership and strength, then you open your mouth to spew these stupid statements.” He rose to full height again. “Stop acting as though you’re mortally wounded and stand straight. You are representing Jotunheim, remember.”

Býleistr looked his brother in the eye for a moment before giving a submissive nod. “Of course.” Loki turned to walk away. “And I apologise.”

“It is not me you owe it to,” Loki pointed out.

Býleistr looked over at Ella. He rarely if ever interacted with her. He felt there was little reason to. They did not share interests and though she spoke often with Alma, especially with regards to carrying young, he felt they had little to discuss in any manner. But knowing that she knew his words about her, he felt even more awkward. With the horrific humidty and heat no longer bothering him, he was forced to admit her abilities, when used to assist them, were incredibly useful. He looked at Angrboða, who had come with him to see her reaction to the situation.

She merely said nothing and remained neutral faced. She had witnessed Ella’s abilities enough times to know that mocking them was foolish. She also knew the different dirty and backhanded comments said about the Aesir princess but even she did not say such things of her at the very beginning when she loathed her entirely. She did not like Ella but she could see that Ella never held anything against her for everything with Loki which shocked her at the time but she could see it was true. She felt bitter at being the only mate not currently pregnant but as Alma and Býleistr stated, two mates rarely were pregnant at the same time and when her time would come, Alma would assist her also. Since Angrboða was raised by her family of two female mates, she knew the integral role she would play for their family but it did still hurt slightly to see the Aesir mate of her former flame rotund with his child, then seeing others carrying too but she did not allow it to bother her as much as such would have not too long ago. With regards to the current situation, she knew an apology was warranted but she was less than rushing over to force her mate to issue it, as valid as such was.

#Loki #others #submission #submitted fic #chapter 62 #Pride and Prejudice #Wolfpawn

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mostfacinorous · 4 years

Note

23. “You poor, deluded creature.” - Loki

Thanos’s minion was in his mind, again. It seemed he was there more often than not these days-- if one could call them that. Time seemed to stretch on forever and become meaningless. Loki was being trained to become tireless, vicious, to leave behind his past life’s hurts and insecurities.

It was... quite the process. He’d never realized how soft he was, how weak he had grown to be. Even knowing he lacked Thor’s power, even hating himself for that, he had not known the true depths of his failure. And he was trying to find a way to be grateful to Thanos for showing him.

That, like all the rest of this, was difficult.

His memories were being dredged up, sifted through, shredded and fitted to one another in configurations that pressed raw nerves and jagged edges together, and then he was forced to live through it. These false realities, based on his own short comings and fears.

He would have thought he would have grown used to this by now. But they kept finding new depths to go to, new ways in which to hurt him.

In this latest trial, he was on Jotunheim. Frigga stood there, beside Laufey and Odin and a woman frost giant that he assumed to be his true mother.He wondered if she was pulled from memories so old, he didn’t know he possessed them, or if she was purely a construct. They’d done that before, he knew-- and he knew, too, that this should not be what he focused on. It was, as Thanos would say, entirely too sentimental.

But it seemed that was to be the subject of today’s training.

“Please-- Odin, Mother-- I want to go home.” The words came, unbidden, from his mouth, and he knew this must be the scenario-- the task at hand. Was he supposed to convince them to allow him back to Asgard? Why should they?

“You’re home now.” Odin answered, in a voice more kindly than he had used on Loki since he was just a young boy.

“You belong here, with us.” The giantess said, stepping forward and cupping Loki’s face. He recoiled-- not sure which was worse: the prospect of being forced to transform into a monster, or the possibility of being burned.

“I don’t.” He insisted, turning to appeal to Frigga, who, alone of them, had always showed him love, and kindness, who had favored him, even above Thor, at times, it seemed.

“Please-- you took me from here, you made me more, something other than what I was born. You made me your son. Don’t force me to come back, to fit into an ill shaped hole, one I’ve not matched since before I could speak.” He was pleading now, hoping they could see the truth of it; he did not belong here, in his Asgardian skin and finery, breaths coming out in warm clouds, among the blue and stern faces of the naked beasts that had whelped him.

“You poor, deluded creature.” Frigga said, with the same soft warmth in her voice that she’d used to wake him from nightmares in his youth. As if she was doing him a favor. “You were never our son. You were never supposed to live to speak.” She too, took hold of his face, and this time, it burned.

“Fortunately, we can rectify our error now.” Laufey said, voice directly beside Loki’s ear, and then he felt a sword of ice being plunged through his back. Frigga stepped away as Laufey withdrew his blade and Loki fell to his knees, staring up at his parents, betrayed and unable to understand how it had come to this.

It would always have come to this. A voice inside his mind reminded him. You were never meant to rule, only to be a pawn. And when you failed to serve that purpose, what do you suppose would have come of you then?

Loki closed his eyes, felt tears escaping, and felt as they froze on his cheeks.

He opened his eyes to see Thanos watching, impassive, but somehow still clearly unimpressed.

“Your fears cannot be bargained with.” He said simply, shaking his head with unsurprised disappointment. He turned to face the Other, and gave a quick nod. “Again.”

And Loki was falling, back into his own mind, back into his own fears. He would learn something, and grow stronger for it, though. Thanos had promised.

#portraitoftheoddity #Loki #loki fanfic #angst prompts #That writing thing I do

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fadingcoast · 4 years

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Death Of The Lie || Chapter 27: Jotunheim

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

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Chapter 27: Jotunheim

With the first light of dawn came a renewed sense of purpose for Loki. He hadn’t slept a wink but he found himself buzzing with energy, and when he ventured out to the lush castle grounds he saw Hela gazing up at the sunrise. He wondered if she, too, had stayed up all night thinking about their next move.

A slight breeze brushed Hela’s hair across her gaunt shoulders, carrying the scent of honeysuckle and the nearby river, and when she turned her head toward Loki she was smiling. After a moment her smile faded, however, and a somber mood settled over the garden. It was then that Loki sensed her restless energy, and he could tell she was itching to do something, and whatever it was wasn’t going to be easy.

“You must know as well as I do that Asgard isn’t going to just hand me the throne,” Hela said, rubbing her hands together as she began to pace. “Mages or not, the Alfar are outnumbered. I will not lead them into slaughter.”

Loki had had the same thought the night before. As grateful as he was to have Sigyn and Freyr’s support, their army was no match in numbers to Asgard’s. “I’m glad you agree,” he confessed. “I take it you have another plan?”

Conflicted thoughts warred in Hela’s dark eyes. Determined as she was, something was still holding her back, fear or apprehension or perhaps regret. Slowly she nodded her head. “I do.”

“Am I allowed to know this plan, or am I to follow blindly?” Loki didn’t intend to come across so harshly, but every second passed meant another opportunity wasted, and it wouldn’t be long before the King and Princess would wake.

Hela looked toward the sky once more, the sun’s rays casting her pale face in a warm light that almost seemed to turn her cheeks pink. For a moment Loki regretted his words; after all he had been through his tongue was often sharp enough to hurt others when he wasn’t careful, and though he barely knew her, she was his mother.

Almost if he hadn’t spoken at all, Hela continued. “We must return to Asgard. Odin’s Vault. There’s an army beneath its floors, long buried, waiting for someone to give them life. With them I - we - can secure the palace. But we can’t just walk in and do what we like. My power is somewhat weakened outside of Asgard, and you can teleport. What is the closest you can get us to the Vault?”

“My- my chambers,” Loki said, slightly stunned. Doubt crept in his mind but there was no time to give in to it. “They have been sealed with a spell since-” The memory choked him, so he moved on. “It will be safe to teleport there.”

“This is the only way,” Hela assured him. “The only way to right all the wrongs, to make up for the sins of the Allfather. You can stop running. We can stop running.”

Loki turned to look at the castle that had once been his home. Yet again he had to leave, to fight that part of him that longed to stay. And now he had reason to doubt that, once all was said and done, he would even be welcomed back. When he turned toward her again Hela had her long arm outstretched to him, waiting for his hand. With a final nod he placed his hand in hers, and in a flash of green, they left Alfheim behind.

Loki had spent so much of his life traveling these halls without being seen that he could venture through them now with little effort, even with Hela in tow. It wasn’t an easy feat, as they could barely fit through some of his hiding places, but it took them straight to the vaults unnoticed by the several Einherjar that patrolled the corridors. As soon as they were inside the Vault, Loki sealed the room with a spell.

Hela looked around and couldn’t help but smirk dryly at the garish displays of brute force, left largely untouched over the centuries. War trophies from Odin’s reign - some from even before she was born - sat proudly on pedestals all over the room like they were altars to a past that should be revered. Imagining the lies he must have sold to the people about how he won these stolen goods felt like someone had spat in her face.

Loki stood to the side of the center pathway, watching his mother closely as she examined some of the newer items she hadn’t seen before, such as the Warlock’s Eye which had been acquired by Thor and his lackeys many years ago. He wondered what was going through her head, the complicated rush of emotions she was doubtlessly experiencing seeing the fruits of her father’s tyranny again as if no time had passed. A knot formed in his stomach as he remembered that he was one of them.

Hela walked resolutely to the end of the corridor and knelt to the floor, pressing her fingertips to a decorative stone circle just before the gate where the Destroyer used to be kept. She murmured a brief spell and the stones fell away, revealing a massive dark cavern beneath the floor. Loki swore in surprise and ran closer as Hela stood back up and went over to the pedestal that held the Eternal Flame. With no hesitation she placed her hand in the fire and pulled it back out unharmed, with a small piece of the Flame flickering in her palm.

The bright flame lit up the crypt below just enough for Loki to see. The floor at the bottom was covered with hundreds of rows of long-dead soldiers in their place of honor, skeletons still in their armor, all with their heads facing the empty space in the middle where the King’s insignia was carved into the floor.

A battalion waiting for their King’s command.

Once again Hela knelt, gently placing her palm - and the Flame - to the edge of the circle at their feet.

“Ennösta.”

The entire crypt lit up, glowing dark orange, as the flames spread through the cracks. Loki was unsure what to expect, so he took a few steps away from the circle. Hela rose to her feet and waited patiently, the sound of voices growing louder by the second. At last, one ghoul rose from the crypt and stood tall and proud in front of Hela, silently waiting for her command.

Loki didn’t dare move as he observed the creature.

The ghost was surrounded by a green eerie light, the same that glowed brightly in his eyes. His body seemed transparent, but not quite. As it moved, sometimes you could see flesh, and in other places bones showed through. Loki could recognize what he was wearing as Asgardian armor, but not the one he remembered seeing his whole life. The winged helmet reminded him of Odin’s, but the knots and swirls and symbols that covered the rest of the armor were entirely unfamiliar.

This was old. Likely older than Odin himself. Did Odin even know this was here?

Hela crossed her wrists in an ancient Aesir greeting. “You know my blood, Hersir. I am your Queen. Asgard is threatened. Take your men and secure the castle. Kill none that are unarmed.”

The ghoul nodded once and marched toward the Vault door. Hundreds of soldiers rose from the crypt and followed him in a perfect line, their feet making no sound as they went. Loki didn’t even have to lift his spell on the door - they simply went through it. Hela watched proudly as each one passed and sighed with relief.

Loki tore his eyes away from the risen army and he saw the Casket Of Ancient Winters. Guilt swelled in his chest. He killed their king, he tried to destroy their planet. If he could only do one thing to repair the damage…

“I have to take it back.”

Hela followed Loki’s gaze and frowned. “How, exactly, are we going to do that? I believe your teleportation won’t work all the way to Jotunheim.”

Loki was surprised at noticing Hela’s choice of words. But he didn’t have time to ask. A plan formulated in his head, and a smile spread across his face.

“We’re going to steal a ship.”

With the castle secured by the army of the dead, Loki and Hela had little trouble sneaking to the hangar and stealing one of the skiffs. Loki had discovered several ways in and out of Asgard when he was a teenager, and remembered with shame and regret the first time he used the one leading to Jotunheim, not even imagining how his life would be completely torn to pieces by his actions.

It was a stupid joke!

They rode the small ship through a path in the forests around the castle to a portal in the side of a mountain, and with a flash of white, they landed on Jotunheim. It was nearing dusk, in the middle of a fierce snow storm, but Loki tried not to draw attention to the fact that he didn’t need to bundle up like Hela did.

Hela sighed deeply and clutched her cloak to her chest. “It’s worse than I thought,” she muttered.

Loki said nothing. He remembered Hela telling him Jotunheim was dying, and had been dying for over a millenia already. It was hard to imagine how the planet could ever have been any different to the frozen wasteland that laid before them.

Looking around, Hela tried to recognize the landscape, searching for a glimpse of anything familiar. It was difficult to see through the blinding winds, but she looked up at the sky and told Loki they would need to head in the direction of the setting sun. Not wanting to alert anyone of their presence, they decided to abandon the skiff and go on foot.

“Princess Sigyn, then,” Hela said out of the blue only a few minutes later, with a smirk Loki didn’t see.

Loki couldn’t help but blush all the way down his neck. Small talk, we are doing small talk. He took a moment to decide how to answer her. None of the options he thought of was a short way to explain.

“My inherited powers were out of control when I was a kid,” Loki began. “Frigga thought it was best for me to learn Seidr, and control it. She said--” He sighed. “She said so many things…” He decided to leave out the bullying, the years of self harm and wanting to end it all, just to make the pain stop. It didn’t exactly make for pleasant conversation. “They sent me to the sanctum in Alfheim, to train and learn how to harness the power of my magic. I stayed with King Freyr and the Princess, and I suppose we became rather close.”

Loki couldn’t exactly pinpoint why it was so easy to tell Hela everything, even things he hadn’t shared with anyone else. The more he said, the more he wanted to keep talking. He told her about Erik, and Gwyn, and how Sigyn became more to him than just a friend. Freyr’s offer to let Sigyn marry him. The pain he experienced having to come back to Asgard indefinitely, forced to fall into his royal duties and once again become second best to Thor. He confessed his original plan to thwart and postpone Thor’s coronation, and how it led to the discovery of his true identity, or at least part of it.

Hela listened to him in silence, somehow enjoying Loki’s recounts, and hurt for having missed it. Every day during her pregnancy she had imagined what his life would have been like, dreamed of watching him grow into a strong Jotun prince, away from the corrupt influence of Odin’s tyranny and his endless obsession with becoming the fiercest Allfather the nine realms had ever seen. Instead Loki was raised as an unwanted son, learned to hate himself from a young age because he was different. Though she had been the one to take Odin’s last breath, it still would never make up for what he did to her son.

The crumbling ruins of the Jotnar Temple were clearer and closer now. The blizzard had slowed down, and the fresh snow piled up against the walls. Loki and Hela looked around, trying to catch any signs of movement, but there was none. No soldiers, no guards. The temple was empty and void of life.

Hela’s footsteps made no sound on the fallen snow as she entered the foyer. She looked up, noticing the massive hole in the ceiling and the crumbling columns that barely still held up the whole structure. She realized the only reason the temple was still standing was the rock being frozen solid to the ground.

Loki moved as quietly as possible as he followed Hela. The tiniest flutter of recognition hovered at the far reaches of his mind, but he couldn’t place it yet. Hela walked solemnly to the middle of the temple, where the altar stood. She knelt behind it and pushed on the huge flagstone. The concealed door opened to a small dark space.

“This is where I sent you, after you were born, when Odin came for me. I had hoped you would be safe, protected by the Casket.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I was wrong.”

At her words, a flashback of a dream, or a dream within a dream, came over Loki. An image of a dark room and a bright blue light. He never knew what it meant, or why it was so ingrained in his brain. Now, it made sense.

Without a word, he summoned the Casket in his hands. As the cold spread his skin turned blue, with distinct markings on his hands and forearms.

Hela replaced the flagstone altar, and Loki lowered the casket and placed it inside, locking it to the rectangular space where it belonged. The casket emitted a brighter, bluer light that seemed to spread through the frozen foundations of the temple. Somehow, it knew it had come home. Hela let out a sigh of relief and stood up, smiling at Loki as she took in his blue skin and red eyes.

“There you are,” she said quietly, folding her hands together. “That’s how you looked the last time I saw you. You take after your father.”

A small measure of heat rising in his cheeks, Loki looked away, back at the Casket. He had so many questions about that night, but he wasn’t sure where to begin, and the emotional weight of letting someone see him like this was too much at once. “So,” he changed the subject, “what happened after that?”

Hela’s expression darkened. “I would realize too late that Odin would come here to steal the Casket. Once he found it, he found you.”

“Why didn’t he kill me?” Loki muttered, staring at his hands as they came back to their regular color.

“The old fool could never.” Hela half smiled. “Just as he didn’t kill me, he wasn’t going to murder his own lineage. He was too proud to spill a drop of his blood. It doesn’t matter if you were-”

“-A mistake.”

“You were not a mistake.” Hela turned and gave Loki a hard glare. “Listen to me, you were not a mistake. Never. You were conceived by love, and loved from the very moment we knew you existed.”

Loki felt a tightness in his throat. Love. The one and only thing that he craved to get from his family. But instead he got lies and rejection. He clenched his fists. Yet another thing that was stolen from me.

Hela sighed deeply. “I spent a thousand years going over everything,” she explained. “Trying to figure out how to escape. What I could have done differently to make it work. I regret many things that I did and many more that I didn’t. The one thing I never regretted was you.”

Loki stared blankly, not quite sure how to process that. Hela shook her head and looked down.

“I know I’m asking for something seemingly impossible,” she continued. “If it were up to me I would erase everything Odin ever told you, everything he ever did to you. But I can’t.” As much as Hela tried to hide it, Loki could see how much it pained her. “All I can give you is the truth. I have no reasons to lie to you.”

That’s so much more than anything anyone in my family ever did for me.

A distant rumble distracted them, and the ground began to shake.

“The Jotuns have noticed us,” Hela said, and ran to the archway. “They will be here soon. We must go.”

Loki took her hand and they fled the temple to a safe distance, where the magic from the Casket didn’t interfere with his own. Before the Frost Giants could find them, he teleported them together back to his chambers in the palace.

<< Chapter 26 – Chapter 28 >>

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#Loki #Loki Fanfic #Loki helason #Hela (marvel)#Loki (marvel)#Hela fanfic #DOTL

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