Loki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
throneenvy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fossilised2017-05-15 01:29 pm
throneenvy) wrote in fossilised2017-05-15 01:29 pm
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."
no subject
“You of all people know the rules as do I,” Thor said, tightly. He’d had to shut his heart off to this. He could not allow himself to be swayed from his course. “You will wait outside.” He knew, vaguely, that Steven was familial with Anthony, but he had never paid much attention to anyone’s lives outside of how they connected to his own. His learning had been incomplete, but he was still in many ways a boy. As a boy, he could not see all of the greater picture, no matter how much his father attempted to teach him by throwing him into the middle of it all.
Thor did not slow until he reached Bruce’s quarters. He had not been inside since he was much smaller, when he would storm this room demanding Loki cease his reading and go out to play with him. He knew it would be filled with ancient tomes and hidden knowledges, with a Midgardian who could berserk standing in the centre, mild mannered when he wanted to be and a demon when he did not.
Thor pushed his way inside, the hinges on the great old door crying out as if they knew what would happen next. He stepped inside and the door closed behind him with growl. He did not look at all at Bruce, and Anthony stood slowly, face a mask, eyes huge and sorrowful behind it. He could almost feel Loki’s shriek, taste the way it would rock through him, when he found out that his own inability to have a conversation with Thor spelled doom to this poor innocent.
Thor pulled the dagger from his belt, Loki’s dagger, one that had tasted his blood often, and heft it in his hand. It was too small for him, expertly balanced and edged, but it felt like a child’s toy. “You are of my brother’s heart and of my brother’s mind. You share his chaos but host your own logic. This is not your fault. It is mine. It is Loki’s. Do not become too comfortable with where you are to go.”
Thor inhaled as he flashed the blade across mortal skin, no match at all for the dwarven worked steel, and as Anthony dropped, Thor turned, leaving blood on the blade, before he left the room.
Blue eyes set upon Steven as Thor pushed the blade into his belt. “You will bring him to Loki. And then you will tell my brother that I await him in the observatory.”
no subject
Thor would hear a cry of rage and grief from the courtyard, and then the whole palace shook.
Not the paltry show of grief from before, when Anthony had been taken but could be recovered, this was an explosion of every ounce of magical energy that he possessed within him, and it burst out with enough power to chip away at the architecture of the palace and make the grounds heave as if the very earth trembled below them.
Steven did not make it two feet from his master before falling to the ground, eyes wide in horror from what had occurred and what might be about to occur.
no subject
Fate was for the Norns, for the simple folk that lived their simple lives, and for people that could not help but follow the path that they had been on since birth. Loki could only ever be this person, and Thor had known that in a way. He knew that this had been the end of everything when he made his mind up because it was better to have it all happen now, before there was no one left that could manage to stop Loki from destroying everything.
It had been decried long ago that Thor would bring forth Ragnarok, the end of days, and as the sun fizzled in the sky, and Mjolnir had been stripped from him, he knew suddenly that this would be true. And yet, he also knew that his mother would find a way to keep the universe from collapsing. She and all the sorcerers of Vanaheim would salvage this.
The steps broke beneath his feet and people fled around him. Surely Loki would come to see this for what it was. He might tell himself he saw Anthony as property, but it was not true. Something had to change or order would need to be restored.
He did not stop his march from the shaking palace, however. He would go to the observatory or he would be stopped along the way by a brother that would never call him brother again and, likely, would see him dead. Thanks to Odin, that could well happen. Thor was not afraid of death. James would be waiting.
check plurk, Jeni my dear, plotting must be had since we destroyed this world
Loki did not go to the Observatory, he descended through the palace, killing at will, and retrieved the Tesseract from the throne room. His birthright in place, his anger tapping into all of his potential, and the entirety of Asgard lay before his feet. He gave Thor not even a second glance as he slaughtered him and threw his body over the side of the Bifrost, he cared nothing when Odin fell to the Odinsleep other than to kill him as he slumbered, and he hesitated only a single moment before ending Frigga's life as well.
Such a cord should never be severed, and now the world paid the price for it. An end to thousands of years of prosperity, Ragnarok come at last.