Loki (
throneenvy) wrote in
fossilised2017-05-15 01:29 pm
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I come from a land of ice and snow
Asgard sat atop the branches of Yggdrasil since time began, and little had changed in their society in the years since. Each Asgardian was long-lived into the millennia, their lands were fertile, their people brave and strong. They had their vassals, their allies, and their enemies. Yet even those who opposed them respected the might of the Golden Dias, and the royalty who sat upon it. Currently that was Odin Borson, though he grew weary more easily now and had begun to consider passing the throne to his eldest son.
He had been blessed with many children, but only two that he considered worthy of his lineage and status. His firstborn, Thor, strong and honourable and everything an Asgardian warrior should be. His second son, Loki, was not natural born, though none knew that but his wife. He was different, a creature of magic and mayhem, of sharp intelligence. Both were worthy, but together they would take Asgard to a new prosperity, he was certain of it.
Midgard, where the mortals dwelt, was a land raided every few centuries for stock. It was seen as a breeding ground, much like a corral for cattle. Mortals were lesser, short-lived and weak, they were fit only as slaves. The last raid had taken place when Loki had been but a baby, nearly a thousand years ago, but the mortals that had been taken had been bred and cared for so that a healthy slave population still thrived. Slaves were given a weakened mixture of Idunn's crop with their food, to extend their natural lives to at least a few centuries in order to make them worth the effort to train. They had no rights, but they were taught well that this was their natural position.
All slave children were raised in a central pen and taught the same when small, those that then displayed talent at cooking, riding, hunting, housework, artisan skills, or singing were then measured off to be specially trained for higher masters. Every five years those who could afford to buy a slave, or those of high enough status to simply demand them, came to the corral and chose. Those who were chosen were special, were envied, and those who were not ended up working the fields out in the far reaches of Asgard, the most menial of work.
Anthony and Steven had been friends since they were little and being raised in the large pens together. Both had excelled, Anthony at crafting and Steven at warrior's skills, but neither were chosen when they were five, nor ten, nor even fifteen. Now, at twenty, it was their final chance to be chosen before they would be assigned to one of the meanest farmers beyond the borders of the great capital. Steven woke Anthony as the dawn rose, mingled excitement and nerves on his face.
"Anthony! Wake up, I've got news! I heard the overseer talking to one of the passing guards, and Princes Thor and Loki are coming to the corral today."
He had been blessed with many children, but only two that he considered worthy of his lineage and status. His firstborn, Thor, strong and honourable and everything an Asgardian warrior should be. His second son, Loki, was not natural born, though none knew that but his wife. He was different, a creature of magic and mayhem, of sharp intelligence. Both were worthy, but together they would take Asgard to a new prosperity, he was certain of it.
Midgard, where the mortals dwelt, was a land raided every few centuries for stock. It was seen as a breeding ground, much like a corral for cattle. Mortals were lesser, short-lived and weak, they were fit only as slaves. The last raid had taken place when Loki had been but a baby, nearly a thousand years ago, but the mortals that had been taken had been bred and cared for so that a healthy slave population still thrived. Slaves were given a weakened mixture of Idunn's crop with their food, to extend their natural lives to at least a few centuries in order to make them worth the effort to train. They had no rights, but they were taught well that this was their natural position.
All slave children were raised in a central pen and taught the same when small, those that then displayed talent at cooking, riding, hunting, housework, artisan skills, or singing were then measured off to be specially trained for higher masters. Every five years those who could afford to buy a slave, or those of high enough status to simply demand them, came to the corral and chose. Those who were chosen were special, were envied, and those who were not ended up working the fields out in the far reaches of Asgard, the most menial of work.
Anthony and Steven had been friends since they were little and being raised in the large pens together. Both had excelled, Anthony at crafting and Steven at warrior's skills, but neither were chosen when they were five, nor ten, nor even fifteen. Now, at twenty, it was their final chance to be chosen before they would be assigned to one of the meanest farmers beyond the borders of the great capital. Steven woke Anthony as the dawn rose, mingled excitement and nerves on his face.
"Anthony! Wake up, I've got news! I heard the overseer talking to one of the passing guards, and Princes Thor and Loki are coming to the corral today."
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That they would love each other was predestined, part of the fabric of reality.
It would be at that moment that Loki herself would walk out into the main courtyard having been dismissed by Frigga, smile on her face and red eyes looking around at the new group of Aesir in interest.
"The All-Mother told me that I might find you here, seeking to sweat out being left behind in swordplay, it seems she knows you well."
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Though young, Thor cut a fine figure and the man he would become was even finer, surely, with Loki behind him, shaping away the uneven or the rougher edges. She already had his full attention, his eyes brightened when he saw her. Though he’d only rarely been infatuated before in this particular instance, he couldn’t stop himself from beaming at Loki as she approached. Her heritage, written on her skin, did not bother him. He’d not been so greatly involved with the Jotnar before, but a single Jotun princess, small and clever, had an exotic flavor that Fandral was finding himself jealous of.
“Your paramour has arrived,” he said, as if all were blind. “Bit small for a giantess.”
“She is perfectly sized,” Thor snapped back. “Ignore them. They weren’t raised with manners,” Thor said briskly. “The sharp tongued one is Fandral. Hogun here is the quiet one. Voldstagg is—”
“Dinae say it, Thor,” he blustered, which allowed Sif to step towards the princess and introduce herself with appraising eyes.
“Sif. I’m a shieldmaiden in Thor’s company. Well met, princess.”
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So these were Thor's close companions, it would be well if they would come to like her as well for to have friends and wife set against one another would only end in strife. Strife for the king would mean strife for all. So she inclined her head politely this once, though she noted Fandral's foolish remarks for later.
"Well met, Lady Sif, Sirs Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg. I look forward to speaking with you all and hearing of the many foolish and amusing tales of my future husband's childhood, for I am sure he will only tell me of his great deeds." She glanced over at Thor, radiant triumph on her face. "I have achieved my task! The Lady Hel and I wagered over the mortal's life, and mine was the success. She was gracious in defeat, however, and has revealed that she names me father in some future days. Is that not a strange and yet proud thing to comprehend?"
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Red haired and bright, the largest of the group gawked openly at Loki, not for her skin tone or her eye color, but for her words. “Thor will be a mother? Is that why Hel is the way she is?” He had never met her, though Thor had once tried to talk them into going to meet the ruler of Helheim and garner her favour. Frigga had gotten word of the plot, thanks to Sif trying to stop their folly. “We should go and meet her!”
Boisterous though he happened to be, no one was really paying much mind to him. Thor had crossed their distance, never afraid of Loki’s true skin, and offered his hand to her to lead her to sit. “Tell it all, every moment of it, from the very start! I want to hear every moment.”
The warriors and Sif looked confused. Their Prince usually demanded all talk to focus on himself and when it did not….well….
That was a strange thing indeed.
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"I felt it would be folly to venture into the gates without invitation, so I stood outside and called to the Lady Hel to attend me as a guest. She came and called me father, though counselled me that I would not be able to take one James Barnes from the multitude that existed in her domain. I wagered that in three questions alone, I would find the correct one. She asked me for my firstborn son as her own should I fail, but I refused for any son of mine will find his own merit in life and death and not be fettered by the choices of his parents. It was agreed instead that I would take her place for one hundred years should I fail, but I did not. Without asking a single question, I found the mortal I sought and returned him to life."
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Thor was completely taken by absolutely everything that came out of Loki's mouth. He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, to watch the way the princess moved, to take her all in. She told a fantastic tale, her voice lilting and without pause. Thor could appreciate that. The Warriors could as well, all gathered around on the grass.
Only Sif stayed back, watching and waiting. Loki rubbed her wrong. The magic bothered her. Being a shapeshifter bothered her too. But it was mostly the way she seemed to have charmed the boys that got her the most.
She'd rescued Thor plenty of times from Amora. She didn't trust sorceresses.
"To have experienced that alone," Thor was saying, "proves your strength. We are a good match."
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She would have to watch and learn before she made any sort of move there.
"I did not need to prove my strength, Thor, I am a Jotnar. That I have survived past my birth year in the harsh climate of my home proves that I am strong. Perhaps it is you who needs prove as much to me."
She said it with a smile on her face, a gentle tease rather than a fierce jibe. "I have seen naught of your fabled warrior skills yet, how am I to know that those muscles are not for show alone?"
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"Did you miss the whole of it?" Thor was already puffing up his chest, more than ready to rise and to show himself. He wanted Loki to find him attractive. He wanted to impress her. "If that's the case, I shall show you again!"
He was on his feet, but the Warriors Three just glanced between themselves.
Hogun was the one chosen to face Thor this time, mostly because he had been the least worked out from their Prince's earlier annoyance, and be prepared himself with several deep breaths before attacking.
There was no warning for it. Thor preferred to spar the way battle was fought.
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She watched the battle with a keen eye, taking in that Thor relied more on his strength than on tactics, but that he was not wholly stupid when it came to such things. Hogun was faster, but he stood no chance when the battle finally got going in earnest and was soon vanquished.
"Most impressive," she called out to the two. "You are strong and valorous indeed, perhaps one day we shall also spar together."
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Thor dropped the hammer on the ground and stood with his hands on this belt, attempting to look suave perhaps as he tucked his thumbs into the band. "You mentioned this before, that you are a capable warrior. You are honourable, righting wrongs even against a short lived Midgardian. And you are beautiful."
Sif might have rolled her eyes. Fandral absolutely did, though he was good natured about it.
"Is there any part of you that is less than perfect?" Technically, Thor knew, Loki was a runt. She was by definition of her people, deformed.
But Thor had trouble seeing that.
He nodded the princess over as if attempting to get her to spar with her now.
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"If you think me perfect, you are a fool and I had not been led to believe you are. None of us are perfect, and a good husband can see the faults in his partner and help her correct them, just as she helps correct him, so that they may both grow into better and wiser people."
She did take out her daggers, intrigued by how a fight with him might go, and stepped up into the combat area.
"Do you wish to impose restrictions before we begin, my future husband?"
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"I do," Thor said as he watched Loki approach. "Learn to accept my compliments for what they are without correcting me for them. I wish to make you understand that you are indeed better than I had ever hoped and if we had not been destined for one another, I believe that I would not have a future to look forward to as much as I do. So roll your eyes, all of you, if you must, but I shall say my piece!"
He watched Loki reveal her daggers and Mjolnir returned to his hand. He flipped it around, the handle already very comfort in his palm.
"Other than that, act at will. Hold nothing back."
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She had spent her whole life fighting those larger and stronger than herself, and the Frost Giants had a completely different fighting style to the Aesir or Vanir. She immediately changed back into her own form and replaced one of her daggers with a long spear made from ice. Four copies of herself suddenly shimmered into being, and all five of them rushed Thor at once in a confusing medley of real and illusion.
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Though he'd not yet grown into the tactician that only true battle would hone him into, Thor still knew when his senses were being distracted. His eyes sharpened as his princess multipled around him and he tried to keep the original in view at all times.
That said, he did initially attack one of the obvious clones, sending the hammer flying at her. It passed through neatly and he called it back, snapping it through another illusion before he caught it again.
Fending off multiple opponents was easy, though. Even if several were not real, he did not allow himself to fight as if they were figmentary and instead tackled each head on as if a force to damage him.
Loki was dizzying however, swapping reality for illusion so totally that Thor found himself overwhelmed. He did have an ace up his sleeve, however, using Mjolnir to channel lightning from the sky to strike all of his foes at once.
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Loki was forced to revise her earlier opinion that he was all brutish strength and not much else, she could see in the way he moved that once he had matured a little more then he would be near invincible on the battlefield. She was certain that if she were to win against him, this might be the only fight she would ever win, for he would be sure to research and learn how to fight her for the future.
So she put her all into it.
The illusions wavered and solidified, becoming more and less in a dizzying array of colour and sound designed to act as distraction, even as she span towards his left flank and tried to pierce it with the ice spear she still held in her hand.
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Somehow Loki made it through his own defenses... Up to a point. Though he did not wear armour, clad in supple leather that left much of his body exposed for comfort of movement, her spike would not penetrate the Thunderer's skin. He felt her push against him, of course, and though she could hardly win if she could not properly land a blow, she came closer than most even did to causing damage. And indeed, were his skin less than nigh invulnerable, she would have had him.
So he dropped the hammer and raised his hands good naturedly.
"Next we meet, I shall protect my flank better," he said, a happy tone to his gruff guffaw as he turned. "You fight fantastically. I did not know that your Realm trained its royality in such a way. I dare say that an army of Jotun would be incredibly intimidating and deadly. Well fought."
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Loki allowed the illusions and the spear of ice to disappear, changing once more to Aesir form in order to grant him a light kiss on the cheek where a his beard was already akin to those properly full grown.
"I should like to see you fight my brothers sometime, I doubt you would have an easy time with them either, for it is Helblindi who taught me all I know."
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"For our wedding, we shall have a great tournament. Your brothers may enter and you as well. All who wish to enjoy a fight should always be allowed. Perhaps even your servant would like to attend." Thor didn't know that he had lost gracefully so much as had been genuinely surprised that Loki had bested his lightning. She was right, though. It may be the last time she bested him on illusion though. He would study. They would spar again. And it would keep his sharp.
His smile faultered only when she kissed him and that was because he felt his heart melt before catching her around the waist.
"Walk with me? My mother does not approve that we two spend moments alone but how else shall I know you better?"
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"I would not want to offend your mother, but perhaps she would not mind if I too were male for the time being."
She stretched and changed, still slender, still green eyed, but with a masculine edge to her features now. She wondered if Thor would still find her alluring in this form, in all of her forms. She held out a hand to him, teasing smile at her lips.
"Well? Where are we to walk?"
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“Mother never complains about Sif,” Thor said, brashly, though the Warriors Three, still too young to understand a great many things like the jealousy that Sif had for Thor’s intended, thought that their friends was not exactly a maiden so much as one of them. She had many suitors already but she still took up a sword and bandied on with them in their adventures. So Sif did not count.
And perhaps Loki did not count either, considering that her race was genderless and she fought just as well, if not better, than Sif did.
When Loki’s outward appearance shifted, Thor did not seem surprised. He did give her – now him – a once over, however. “She will not be fooled. You look much the same,” he said as if he did not under stand the reason for her shapeshifting. It seemed to bother him none at least, and his arm was still offered to the Jotun.
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"I like this little, I fear an enchantment such as Amora enjoys. Sorcery of this kind is not natural other than the healing arts, and we know little of Jotunheim in recent years."
Loki did not catch those words, already too far away with Thor, his arm linked around that of his betrothed. "So then, tell me what it is you wish to know of me. I am an open book to you, for we are to be wed and you must know the worst and best of me."
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“Your worst qualities?” Thor frowned at that. He didn’t know what his own worst qualities were, he wasn’t that self aware. Others would be able to fill Loki in on them, though they might have a hard time too and could make strengths sound like weaknesses if only to have an answer. Thor cared too much, he was stubborn and tenacious, he sometimes lost sight of other tasks to complete just one-- But those were not terribly bad qualities for a ruler to have, even if they could e exploited.
And trying to think of his own worst qualities was likely going to cause Thor much consternation.
“I have a far better idea,” he said, diverting from the group where Fandral looked at Sif as if trying to see if her worries were genuine or born from jealousy for he too felt the same for Thor, just as cast aside, and had been known to court Amora from time to time for attention. He was not her best confident in this. “Tell me what you enjoy the most. Activity or object or food or experience, your choice. I’ll know the good before you can attempt convince me that there is any bad.”
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"What I enjoy the most is magic and the learning of it," she replied without hesitation. "It is my connection to the world tree, to my realm, and to my people. It feels as natural to me to change my shape as it does to breathe, and to learn more is always a privilege."
She had the distinct idea that he was not particularly given to scholarly pursuits, however, so she wouldn't torment him wholly.
"I also enjoy flyting, riding, and ice fishing."
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Magic was not a subject that Thor knew much about. He might have singular control over the storms, something innate within him that had been part of his being due to his Valkyrie blood long before he was ever given possession and use of Mjolnir and yes, he could use Mjolnir in a variety of ways, but he was not a creature that studied magic and therefore, he was almost disappointed at first that Loki’s primary interest was not one that he could ever take advantage of.
Luckily for him, Loki was astute enough to know that and immediately include additional items to her list.
Thor was no master of words and so flyting was not part of his enjoyments, but he did like to listen to others game at it and so he mentioned that Fandral was proficient in the sport and Loki might enjoy the competition of it with his friend. “Riding and fishing are two things we can certainly enjoy together. We have the whole of Asgard’s stables for our use. Is ice fishing very different from the usual sport?” That Thor fished might be a surprise. He did seem to lack the patience for it.
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"You must come to Jotunheim if you wish to see how ice fishing works, I do not think the ice layers thick enough upon any of the lakes or seas of Asgard."
It was something that saddened her a little; though Asgard was undoubtedly beautiful, it was also alien. It was not the quiet beauty of her snow-covered home, but a more overstated beauty of lush green and brilliant blue.
"I am certain my father would be glad to host you for a visit."
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True rp love is fighting through a phone tag. I SUCK at the bone tags
<3 That IS love
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sneaky tag
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