Necessary Out of Contact Knowledge: Very Minor HP info + Extensive MCU Info.
I initially made...
I initially made...
Lord Voldemort; and how he trivialized Ragnarok - MCU-HP (MCU99%)
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Necessary Out of Contact Knowledge: Very Minor HP info + Extensive MCU Info.
I initially made the mistake of assuming that the EDDAS were common knowledge, I attempted to address this best I can.
This isn't the Thor we all know and love, far from it.
Voldeloki calls Odin-King, because in his mind he does not behave as a father should. In a pinch he will address him as The Allfather (another Title), Odin-King gives off the attitude that he respects his power, but that he has no compulsion putting him on the same level as say: Queen Alfyse. You see, she shares magic with him while Odin dismisses his might as meaningless tricks. (There are reasons, shitty perhaps, but Odin believes he is making 'Warrior' out of Loki.
I tried to start off In Media Res, but I forgot that not everyone is obsessed with the off-world (earth) aspects of the MCU as I am. I will add a short primer that will hopefully get the people asking the right/interesting questions.
I do not, for the life of me, comprehend why people believe Loki exists. Loki is no more. Voldemort is Loki. There has never been a Loki.
Voldemort is not so much sassy as he simply ran out of fucks to give. He'll reman 'mostly good-adjacent' because of his experiences after 'death'. That being said, this is my view of the MCU. If people disagree please speak up and provide proper arguments. Comics only come to play when the MCU fails us and we cannot infer matters.
Truths about the MCU + Musing by myself when MCU makes no fucking sense:
The Aesir are shits. Since King Buri (The father of the father of Odin) they have been steadily butchering their way across the Nine Realms. First to fall were the Dark Elves, under Malekith. King Bori (Burison) destroyed him to the point where in a last ditch attempt he sacrificed the greater part of his people to cause as much suffering to the AESIR army as possible. For a given value of success; this kept Asgard out of any important wars since the Jotunheim War. Next came the secession from Vanaheim, while it could be described as a retreat...Asgard still wields enormous influence of Vanaheim. This is not particularly appreciated by the nobility that has blood-ties with the Ancient of Nord. Again, rebellions all the god damned time.
Asgard: under Odin it seems to have developed ( perhaps unreasonable, King Bor strikes me not as an intellectual) and fervant hatred for the Jotnar, despite their win. Odin has, either chosen or excruciatingly failed to bridge this gap. To to the point where one of his heirs is called Thor - Jotun Slayer or Thor - Giant Slayer alternately. This...does not seem to bother anymore.
Loki-Voldy in this story is excruciating aware of the fact of his Jotnar heritage. He will attempt to find out as much as he can of the line of Ymir, the benefits that come from it and his possible changes of power in Jotenheim should Asgard fail him. Keep in mind; At least Loki was charming to people he felt could not possibly hard him. Voldemort has no such qualms, if you are weaker than him and dare upset him; you are not long for this world. This is one of the main differences between them. Furthermore; where Loki simply stewed in the dislike of his people, Voldemort strikes me as the type to throw himself up as a 'Hero'. Especially now he knows it 'works'.
I will take from the Eddas punishments inflicted upon Loki; whether he deserved them or not. Again, unlike Loki...this will not be acceptable to Voldemort. he might be clever enough to understand that he cannot stand agains Asgard on his own...but at some point he will figure out that his Death-Eater were surprisingly loyal even when he did not put much of an effort in. More than anything, this is something I look ahead to.
This is the way I view the MCU: and it's intricacies. More information will follow about the ideologies of Asgard (Might = good, magic = barely useful, women are baby makers, Thor is to be the King because look at him...he's so Kingly!)
I promise I will attempt to keep the bashing to the absolute minimum: but Thor is a wanton murderer, as is Voldemort, bashing will happen to both sides.
--------
Ok, that was the way I conceive of the MCU.
Please share what else I can add, politically wise. Not so much the treatment in Asgard of Voldemort. The moment he can 'escape' he will. More in the sense of help sketch out other realms, what is interesting in them? What is cool to write about.
On another note: As has been mentioned that Loki was basically being 'exiled' for a prank. This happened. This actually fucking happened. Whether he cut her hair or not, he was sent to the dwarfs without so much a promissory note. The fact he had to bet his head, which isn't really mentioned, is because he had nothing of worth to do so. His only play was to cheat to ensure he does not fail, but unfortunately he fail. I can understand this; WTF ODIN, WTF, but keep in mind. This is Odin.
I will be softening him significantly as the story goes on.
I initially made the mistake of assuming that the EDDAS were common knowledge, I attempted to address this best I can.
This isn't the Thor we all know and love, far from it.
Voldeloki calls Odin-King, because in his mind he does not behave as a father should. In a pinch he will address him as The Allfather (another Title), Odin-King gives off the attitude that he respects his power, but that he has no compulsion putting him on the same level as say: Queen Alfyse. You see, she shares magic with him while Odin dismisses his might as meaningless tricks. (There are reasons, shitty perhaps, but Odin believes he is making 'Warrior' out of Loki.
I tried to start off In Media Res, but I forgot that not everyone is obsessed with the off-world (earth) aspects of the MCU as I am. I will add a short primer that will hopefully get the people asking the right/interesting questions.
I do not, for the life of me, comprehend why people believe Loki exists. Loki is no more. Voldemort is Loki. There has never been a Loki.
Voldemort is not so much sassy as he simply ran out of fucks to give. He'll reman 'mostly good-adjacent' because of his experiences after 'death'. That being said, this is my view of the MCU. If people disagree please speak up and provide proper arguments. Comics only come to play when the MCU fails us and we cannot infer matters.
Truths about the MCU + Musing by myself when MCU makes no fucking sense:
- The Worldtree has nine worlds:
- Midgard: World of the Humans. It lays in the middle; only the Bifrost can cross the Nine Realms without passing Midgard. Currently, it's in the early middle-ages. The Tesseract lies safe-is Denmark, and the Seed of the Yddrigasil (not sure what they official name is) is in the mountains of Peru, slumbering. There is the time-stone, currently in the dimension where the Mortal Wizards roam. There is plenty of power in Midgard, but few people to use it.
- Asgard: The Realm Eternal: Filled with Warriors ready for honorable death to guarantee them Valhalla ( or Folkvanger). Asgard is intensely bigoted, powerful and completely disdainful of those that garnished them their strength. In the beginning Asgard used to be a simply defensive castle/network/manor on Vanaheim. Through the workings of powerful makings and the subjection of the power of a nearby Sun, they raised it to the skies to be their near impenetrable defense in the airs.
- Alfheim: Home of the Light and Dark Elves and currently ruled by Queen Alfysa. Lotsa political differences, genetically not really. I keeping them tied on this world, because I feel that keeping Swartalfheim empty, while Jotunheim attempted to conquer Midgard makes no fucking else.
- Vanaheim: The 'Ancestors' of the Aesir. These are the tribes that remained behind on Vanaheim. There is plenty power to be had here, they respect making to the point of it being a near religious matter, and they have - if not mastered the fighting styles of Asgard - the ability to stand toe to toe with Asgard, if only they were united. They unfortunately are divided nearly among every hill, valley and wherever a local KING/LORD/ETC can establish themselves. Vanaheim is only mostly stable because Asgard guarantees the peace; have a deal with the ancient House of Njord, but do not rule it outright. Even if foolish idiots might believe they do. Vanaheim rebels once every generation or so (but generation spans in the thousands of years). It's good to be in Vanaheim.
- Swaftafheim: The Home of the Dwarfes. In the legends they were made, much like Humans in our own legends, from 'Rock'. (Mud). They are capricious, do not respect anyone who cannot destroy them and their pride is nearly unending. They made the most magnificent weapons in creation, but there is an enormous cost involved. Generally this cost is the exquisitely beautiful Lady Freya. Not even marriage, even if they attempt that MANY MANY times, but mere spending a few nights...entertaining them. Currently they are headed up by Ivaldi-Crafter; the current holder of the greatest 'Senate' seat - so to speak.
- Muspelheim: This is the home of the Eldnar, the Fiery Jotnar so to speak. They are, in essence, ruled by Sutur-King: a near immortal creature that has led his people ably for unending eons. Currently, he last waged a war against Asgard, because Odin ordered Thor and Loki - while it was Loki - to retrieve the powerful Sword of Sutur, which contains part of his flames and will be near anything.
- Helheim: the place where the dishonorable dead end. Many things are dishonorable in the mind of the Aesir. Dying, surrounded by your children in your bed is a death most heinous and will see you in this barren land. It's ruler is HELA - daughter of Loki (in this case, Voldemort is just a man and the Elder Queen of Death was really...really pretty. And powerful. One of these things mattered greatly to Voldemort. Hela is Queen of the Underworld and Lady of the Demons. More on this in the next part.
- Niflheim: The cold world. It is inhabited by the ancient Dragon Nidhogger, it sleeps and rests there until the final chaos of Ragnaroks wakes him. His cranky-ness will know no bounds.
- Jotunheim; The home of the Jotnar, the Frost Giants. The Frost Giants have an illustrious history; their ancestor was one of the ancestors of the entire universe, a giant by the name of Ymir. Plenty of stories of him, but important in this story is that Loki (Voldy) is a direct descendant of him. This will be used ruthlessly, but it comes with downsides that Voldemort likely will not enjoy. Jotenheim is currently ruled by Laufey-King, who already has two heirs. Helblindi--Heir and Bleister-Spare. Neither of his sons have any great magic to speak of. There appear to be three attributes when it comes to the Jotnar: Powerful in Size, Excellence in Character or Greatness of Magical Might. Since they believe that all Jotnar have an in-borne grace, you should make your own conclusions.
The Aesir are shits. Since King Buri (The father of the father of Odin) they have been steadily butchering their way across the Nine Realms. First to fall were the Dark Elves, under Malekith. King Bori (Burison) destroyed him to the point where in a last ditch attempt he sacrificed the greater part of his people to cause as much suffering to the AESIR army as possible. For a given value of success; this kept Asgard out of any important wars since the Jotunheim War. Next came the secession from Vanaheim, while it could be described as a retreat...Asgard still wields enormous influence of Vanaheim. This is not particularly appreciated by the nobility that has blood-ties with the Ancient of Nord. Again, rebellions all the god damned time.
Asgard: under Odin it seems to have developed ( perhaps unreasonable, King Bor strikes me not as an intellectual) and fervant hatred for the Jotnar, despite their win. Odin has, either chosen or excruciatingly failed to bridge this gap. To to the point where one of his heirs is called Thor - Jotun Slayer or Thor - Giant Slayer alternately. This...does not seem to bother anymore.
Loki-Voldy in this story is excruciating aware of the fact of his Jotnar heritage. He will attempt to find out as much as he can of the line of Ymir, the benefits that come from it and his possible changes of power in Jotenheim should Asgard fail him. Keep in mind; At least Loki was charming to people he felt could not possibly hard him. Voldemort has no such qualms, if you are weaker than him and dare upset him; you are not long for this world. This is one of the main differences between them. Furthermore; where Loki simply stewed in the dislike of his people, Voldemort strikes me as the type to throw himself up as a 'Hero'. Especially now he knows it 'works'.
I will take from the Eddas punishments inflicted upon Loki; whether he deserved them or not. Again, unlike Loki...this will not be acceptable to Voldemort. he might be clever enough to understand that he cannot stand agains Asgard on his own...but at some point he will figure out that his Death-Eater were surprisingly loyal even when he did not put much of an effort in. More than anything, this is something I look ahead to.
This is the way I view the MCU: and it's intricacies. More information will follow about the ideologies of Asgard (Might = good, magic = barely useful, women are baby makers, Thor is to be the King because look at him...he's so Kingly!)
I promise I will attempt to keep the bashing to the absolute minimum: but Thor is a wanton murderer, as is Voldemort, bashing will happen to both sides.
--------
Ok, that was the way I conceive of the MCU.
Please share what else I can add, politically wise. Not so much the treatment in Asgard of Voldemort. The moment he can 'escape' he will. More in the sense of help sketch out other realms, what is interesting in them? What is cool to write about.
On another note: As has been mentioned that Loki was basically being 'exiled' for a prank. This happened. This actually fucking happened. Whether he cut her hair or not, he was sent to the dwarfs without so much a promissory note. The fact he had to bet his head, which isn't really mentioned, is because he had nothing of worth to do so. His only play was to cheat to ensure he does not fail, but unfortunately he fail. I can understand this; WTF ODIN, WTF, but keep in mind. This is Odin.
I will be softening him significantly as the story goes on.
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Okay I am really confused about what is going on here. Don't get me wrong the writing is good... It's just I'm a bit busy going "huh?" at it all.
So it seems? that Voldemort won somehow, became immortal and then realised over the millennia how bad an idea that was before getting reincarnated as Loki in the MCU? Also the Harry Potter timeline seems to be seriously wacked if Voldemort was able to duel Grindelwald.
Anyway i would call this a decent start but it's missing a bit too much context and backstory to really work properly.
So it seems? that Voldemort won somehow, became immortal and then realised over the millennia how bad an idea that was before getting reincarnated as Loki in the MCU? Also the Harry Potter timeline seems to be seriously wacked if Voldemort was able to duel Grindelwald.
Anyway i would call this a decent start but it's missing a bit too much context and backstory to really work properly.
Current Timeline: 1433AD
April 1433, AD
Gladsheim
In Media Res
Chapter 1: Prince Loki Odinson the Terrible of Asgard: Once known as the Dread Lord Voldemort - He Who Must Not Be Named
The halls that contained the private studies of Odin-King were a marvel to behold. They lacked the unorganized clutter of ancient Wizards like Dumbledore's, but they more than made up for with the pilfered goods of endless worlds. Asgard was wealthy and its powerful King was one mind that such fortune aught to be displayed.
Most impressive of all was the wizened Ancient King that ruled Asgard, fortress of the Aesir people, for the better part of three millennia. There has been no strife he failed to witness, no glory he has failed to attain and no failure has ever truly stained his rule. Of all the Kings of Asgard, starting with Buri himself, Odin-King could comfortable stand among them without nary a thought to inadequacy.
To say that he was impressive would be understating matters enormously. Just ask his enemies…
Lord Voldemort, who once stood with nary a soul as an equal, now quaked before a creature that might genuinely refer to itself as deity. Once I was a Master of Magic, a commander of the Dark Arts without true equal. First he was known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, a boy born of reasonably common extraction with only the burning might of magic to set him apart from the unending seas of average muggles.
After that he became Prefect Riddle of the Hogwarts House of Slytherin. In his short life he attained the respect, and more than a healthy dose of fear, of those who once dared looked down upon him. These pureblood were ground of their pride of straight into subservient nothingness while the boy helped myself to their to their offerings of their House Magics.
Much like all other Magic, it came easy to the boy, despite the burden of lacking most of their bloodlines. It was one a luck of the greatest proportions, that the magical Line he could claim was one as ancient and interconnected in the past as there ever was. The boy found out he was a member of the House of Gaunt.
Not fully an heir, even those circumstanced would be ensured by the land to cement that position, but enough of a relation to suffer only mildly from the benefit of his stolen magics. More than anything, these 'taints' of foreign magic helping the lad turn into the man.
Into Lord Voldemort.
He was powerful, not to be denied and served by the very best he could compel. In short, life was good to Lord Voldemort. Until, suddenly, it was not.
All his precautions turned for not, his callous disregard of prophecy broke him and once the end was unavoidable; only the mercy of a small child, a boy…broken almost as much as he was himself, saved him.
Never, in his wildest dreams, could he have imagined the possibility of a reincarnation, and yet here Lord Voldemort stood. He could suppose that there should be more hand a hint of pleasantness that his next vessel, despite the fact is was still referred to it as such, not only was sufficient to contain his previous might, but held the possibility to exceed it beyond the most wild of expectations.
In his new form as Prince Loki Odinson he stood in front a creature so terrifying serious considerations should be make to pre-emptive surrender. Fortunately for one so accustomed to success this feeling fast passed.
Next to me in my regard, and to not mention foremost in heart of those of all else in attendance, stood my elder sibling. His name was Prince Thor Odinson, the current Crown-Prince of the Realm Eternal.
As far as the Wizard was concerned this seemed an unlikely state of affairs for very long. The boy, the man he was rapidly becoming, was my only his rival because Odin-King feels the need to present such fiction. The reborn-Wizard, for the life of him, could not comprehend why this was not simply a forgone measure.
Why embolden this strife between his heirs; why pretend at this facsimile of contest?
Why not simply elevate his natural borne son?
Why not allow myself in this brand new form to carve my own name across the stars? Stars, which I knew positively, teemed with life. The old life of the would-be-conqueror has proved to be, if not a complete waste, than at least only noteworthy as a motivation to greatness. Surely there was one that beheld a world filled with magic users?
Certainly not when Odin has his words to say on that matter. You see; the man had plans within plans, within plans. For some reason, these included myself.
It did not matter; Odin-King was about to speak. Disregarding him was impossible. The reborn-Wizard melted away in spirit and all that remained was a contrite little godling.
===========================
With a timbre that spoke of distant disappointment, vague distaste for the policy our actions has forced him into as well as the sheer dominating energy that pervaded the study all taught us one important lesson; Theatrics Matter, even for Kings.
"Loki, Odinson." This new appellation of mine was, if not pleasant, thankfully entirely inoffensive. Long have I attempted to fit in when I first arrived, but it appears that Odin-King was no fool to be easily played.
The best I managed to do was to pretend to be a thorough amnesiac that can scarcely recall some time before the current one, even if he is aware of one. This was accepted, tenuously, but for long centuries exceptionally close gazes were kept upon me.
"If I find myself disappointed-."
Thor, in his annoyingly childish and naïve manner attempted to intervene, "Father, I assure you that this matter-."
Slowly, ever so slowly, the King to Gods slowly raised his hand. Far more than these shallow events obviously occurred, but I'm not going to waste my time explaining to you magicless cretins the unholy terrors that unfolded before us, courtesy of Odin-King. With a single waved he bound tumultuous power, with ease so practiced that I could not help the waves of unending jealousy coursing my very being.
One day Odin, I would match you.
Once, I believed. Once, I believe so deeply and thoroughly in my strength that my delusion prevented me from perceiving the brilliance of others.
My rage had be kindled by the most pathetic of reasons, It would blind my to actions that otherwise would have giving me pause and thought nothing of the fact of wantonly sharing my more destructive spell-constructs might come with unexpected and horrible surprises.
My death and subsequent…spending of time taught me better. Words fail me, it can simply not be described. Not properly. I was cleansed, I was punished and I was reborn.
My lieutenants of old, my Knights of Walpurgis – the group I gathered around me in Hogwarts in the early thirties -, fought at my side the against the remaining servants of the most terrible Dark Lord of our generation. Together with Lady Cassiopeia Black – a women of singular talent that I hoped to replicate to my own interest in the heiress of her spirit. Unfortunately, while Bella is brilliant, she is no Cassiopeia.
I put up myself, and my network of friends and favors, as a bulwark against the opportunists of Grindelwald Their magic was powerful to the point of suffusing an entire battle-field, the Lady Black contemptuously ended this long term threat and turned the backlash of the failed workings upon their masters. If I could love; at the moment she would have cemented it.
At the time, I believed this to be my greatest accomplishment. So certain was I that this would be my entrance into the grander political world. The minions of Lord Grindelwald's screams were heard across a continent and I hoped to build my empire upon its ruins.
I stayed behind in the Low Countries, it was the late fifties at the time; the Lady Black was entertained by my interest, and I learned all I could for the given oath I would share all I knew with a suitable heir which was to take the Black name, despite my own illustrious heritage. Fortunately, the Wizarding War did not properly before my tuition had come to a reasonable conclusion, nor did it last enough for me to be forced to supply my side of the oath.
The final battle was upon us and all I can say is that I spent it on a mostly inactive field, best served to cut young officers teeth. I will not lie; this relieved me more than anything else had. I had little relish to serve the Britons that I felt served me, not at all.
Even at my posting more and more power was thrown around, ancient ley-lines that had long remain dormant opened up in fury and used up before any sane creature could even come to a consideration of their eventual use. The Europe of Old, the Old World, the World that was the center of the supernatural simply ceased to be. It could certainly have been rebuilt, recovered what was possible as well as spending unending funding to bring the land back to a simile of what it once was.
Albus – too many names – Dumbledore, put an end to this. Granted, it was his eloquent speeches that swayed so very many to believe in his doctrine of British Hegemony. Why wouldn't they, especially since for save for handful Slavic Purebloods, a dozen or so Makedonian Spell Crafter of Ancient Lines…did power not lay in the Island of Albion. Did Lord Solaris not hail from here, did the Creators of Hogwarts not call it home and in more recent days...Did the House of Black, the House of Gaunt and the House of Dumbledore – recently elevated it may be – prove that this lineage was ours was custom and power. Atlantis fell, Rome crumbled, Central Bohemia could not bear Grindelwald. Only Great Britain survived, thrived and succeeded beyond any reasonable expectation. Or, at least that was what I thought.
============
I should have known better, but this deep failing of mine to be caught in interesting reminisces was not something I could afford. Important matters were at hand and I needed every inch of my wits to survive this.
The All-Father of Asgard
Odin-King.
Odin the Deceiver.
Odin Oathbreaker.
Odin Spearbreaker.
Odin-the Wolf King Wanderer.
There are many names for this creature before me; most deserved, other simply taken out of convenience. My sibling and I too have some interesting appellations.
Prince Thor – The God of Thunder
Prince Thor – The Golden Slaughterer
Prince Thor – Of the Unending Rage
Prince Thor – Asgard's King-To-Be
In this lifetime I am publicly, and occasionally not so publicly, known as;
Prince Loki – The God of Magic
Prince Loki- The Silver-Tongue
Prince Loki – The Prince of Darkness
Prince Loki - Whose Abeyance of Whims is all that saves you from the consequences of his mild inconvenience.
Odin's Power, as of yet, dwarfed mine, substantially. I have not yet considered whether this is a consequence of his seat of power, the belief of the average inhabitant of the Nine Realms or perhaps he outstrips me so magnificently based on no tricks.
I prefer not to the think of the latter. Thankfully, I do not fully fear this unending might of Odin-King. Do not misunderstand me, should the worst occur…I will be destroyed without the chance to adequately defend myself. There were however ways of power that did not rely on might alone.
Oh, how I wish I learned this before.
You see, there is a scandalous secret. It was a juicy secret, no less. A secret, so scandalous, that it could tear Asgard apart with ruthless abandon within moments. Civil wars would rage across the Realm Eternal, and despite the fear that the House of Odin inspires, it has not been our Royal House since the inception of Asgard.
Lord Tyr was of the line of Buri. Lord Skadi was of the line of Buri, in a matrilineal line. Lady Sif's mother was the spawn of an acknowledged bastard of Buri. King Bor, Lord Bor as he was known them, spawned many…many a bastard and knew better than to have them acknowledged.
And yet, even he favored some and there are houses such as House Theoric Reaperson, House Ragnar Luthbrukson and many others that could claim such descent.
Odin-King is power incarnate, but it had been a hardwon lesson for me to accept that it is not enough to win wars. Unlikely myself however, Odin-King has won ever single of his wars. Perhaps he could survive and hold his throne. There was little I was unwilling to credit him with.
You see; all of that set a stage. A stage of tragedy, with great chance of turning to farce, that will encompass more than merely Asgard. Where Asgard points; the Nine Realms follow, as they traditionally have.
Were Asgard to cease pointing, especially in circumstances that are entirely possible outcomes, certain truths would come to light.
The spawner of such strong sons, Odin-King, is in truth only one of their sires. I have never truly called him Father, not in many a century, but I aware of the risks involved with denying him. Should the truth come out; should Asgard be made aware of my heritage…
Matters would not progress well for me. All of my politicking, all of my positioning would be meaningless. All the allies I built, mostly out of Asgard proper, would perhaps not abandon me…but be intensely aware of my lack of relative worth. There is a difference, no matter of protocol dictates otherwise, between a Son of Odin and a Son of Laufey.
I never had much luck with fathers before. There is little reason to assume that this Majesty, or even the other, would somehow be better than the previous.
Even as Midgard burned around this orphan and he learned of the indifference of the Wizards, there were books. Books written by Tolkien, whose words seem strangely accurate now. Books written by Asimov, who works seem even more strangely accurate now.
Thankfully, boring summers filled with libraries that prided themselves on the 'Classics' ensure that I have always been fascinated by godlings. Beyond the Greeks and Roman, I am intimately aware with the goings on of the Norse Godlings.
More worryingly, despite the many – and varied differences in the Poetic Eddas regarding Asgard and it's denizens – there was one.
Just one.
Just one unending truth, in whichever form it might come.
Loki, whichever his form takes him. Whether he is Jotnar, Eldnar, one of the Aesir, or any other creature in the universe. One matter is true and clear. Odin-King and his many appellations may best be described as [Loki's-Bane]. I could spend pages after pages enumerating his various faults, but even a fool would comprehend these are not the actions of a friend:
1. Odin is a Kin-Slayer on a level that would stagger anyone with a spec of a conscience
2. In the stories he rides my vessels 'son' as it were just another beast.
3. The various other 'monsters' spawned by this vessel may have been avoided, but I am aware of their fates. More than anything this will be the final nail in his coffin.
4. Hela, my beautiful Hela. Words are not necessary in this matter. Only the suffering of all involved will do.
5. This vessels role in life seems to have been solely to serve as punching bag for those more powerful than him. When he grew to the point of this becoming unfeasible, it was almost as if I stared into a mirror.
6. Much like myself; this creature, the Odin-King believes in Prophecy to his detriment. This will be the instrument of my vengeance.
And unfortunately, in this or perhaps even the next world to come…this is to be my lot. I am to suffer Odin-King, until one day I gather the strength to put a stop to this.
Unless of course; my very knowledge of these matters prevents them. There is a chance, no matter how slight, that all these concerns could be forgotten about and 'butterflied' out of existence if you will.
Unfortunately this requires an optimistic man, or at least a fool. Fortunately I am neither. I am unwilling to rely on fortune, the supposed 'help' of others and those that would be my incarnation 'family' if they were willing to accept these occurrences.
Unfortunately I forgot, I forgot that Odin-King always has another card to play. A card; that while nearly meaningless to my personage – has publicly claimed, and been backed in such claims, to have 'saved' me from an arbitrary level of suffering.
This is supposed to mean something. Even with the unlikely existence of the one know as Hela, I am come undone by the very possibility of its existence. Worlds would burn, realms would freeze and a universe would know my rage.
All for, what basically amounts to, an imaginary relation that I caused my own actions. Not some relative forced upon me. Not someone who claims relation based on long passed moments.
No, I would be truly responsible for such a creature because I made them. They, Hela, however it might end up be would be grand.
Or, there is still the universe burning.
I've never claimed to be sane, but I'd like to think I am…growing.
If Queen Frigga wishes to play at loving parent; so be it. There is little I do can speak to the contrary, which would only invite undue questioning. I would simply be perceived as ungrateful. Even her feeble defense is grating to for I know it be empty of any true will, "My King, must you not give our boy a chance to defend himself?"
How would this help; I gave my part of the story. I was in my room, reading. As I have done so often. If I wished Sif harmed, the cutting of hair would not be where in which direction my mind drifted off.
Somehow this defense was unaccepted. For some reason this line of defense was worth very little. I attempted to logic my way past, this too was ignored despite a fair attempt. Once again I decided to simply bear whatever nonsense Odin-King had in store for me.
Perhaps my innocence would be proving and I could use this to checkmate his power in the Council – Odin, does not comprehend how very many fear his capriciousness. Or I could take the easy way out and fail. Bitter as that sentiment would be; I would simply be the better for it.
Asgard has never truly offered me anything of worth. Anywhere else would do. Especially since in 'anywhere else' included the unspoken assumption of the lack of any creature that could conceivably threaten me. More and more this drew my mind in interesting directions.
A gruff response came, "It was offered, he chose to lie and lie poorly."
A flash of red raced across my eyes, but it was certain Odin missed it. He has not bothered to truly notice me in a long eon.
The aged Tyrant continued, "Your intention in shielding your errant son does you much honor, but I refuse to entertain this notion. A wise King does not lie so unthinkingly and both of our sons must learn this. There are consequences; even for the likes of us."
I wonder what he'd do to Thor? Perhaps he'd make him wave at the people for hours on end. That sounds like a proper punishment for the exalted one known as Thor. Oh, do I sound bitter?
Have you ever failed to surreptitiously murder a defenseless child seventeen thousand times in a row, only to watch him grow from strength to strength? At least if Asgard knew about his preposterous luck they would have proper reason to love him as they do.
This current situation is little new for me, but I considered the way this looked to the others. I wondered whether he invited Thor in to teach him, with my example on what not to be. Odin-King, generally, was pleased to inflict his meandering lecturing upon me to be suffered in open court. Where else would he conjure up the witnesses needed to ensure to contrast the weakness of Loki to his oh so beloved heir.
I know I claim that Thor is a fairly useless sort as those things go, but these claims hold merit. He. Is. An. Idiot. Then again, only an even greater idiot continues acting against the world when the entire universe seems to conspire to keep him safe.
The Lady Frigga, Mother as she prefers to be addressed is a hauntingly beautiful woman who has a desperate need to be loved. I wish I could take advantage of this, but she shares her heart with three creatures and I have never been one for sharing. Well, that and her laughably see-through attempts at making me bend to Odin-King.
As if I cannot tell by her words. Allow to me to sketch a scenario; a maiden in the service of Frigga feels the call to nature and unlike her compatriots she revels in being different. The focus of her affections turned out to be me. While I am willing to admit that I easily succumbed, what I do not expect was an accusation of rape.
Fortunately I was a Prince and investigations in those matters are thorough, but I cannot forget those first few moments. I have saw her rage, I saw the wounded hurt that I would harm one of hers. That latter part I only understand once I regained the majority of my memories.
This women was part of her in-group, I was part of her in-group, we should have gotten along like a house on fire – even those the reasoning for those words being portents of prosperity I do not understand -, which in a sense of a way happened.
All she saw was that I 'took advantage' of a young women that 'could never deny a Prince'.
This attitude, this slipping of characters of her, cannot be accepted, so for long while longer I must pretend her kindness is true, but I have long since learned that exquisitely - no matter how pretty- empty words mean nothing without coupled with decisive action.
One day that will unendingly come and on that one day, even she will learn that leaving a child with the words: "Your Father has a reason for all he does, trust he has your best interest in heart."] Does nothing, but fully instruct that child where the true priorities lay. Odin-King has reasons for harming me. That was understood; I knew him to not be mind-less. Odin-King has my best interest in heart?
My chest burned with the need to ask: "How, are you merely pretending to be blind or are you truly this weak?"
I learned the emptiness of that particular lesson of Frigga's early. All I regret is that I may have shown my hand to the Odin-King's War-Bride.
I pray she does not repeat the rebellious words of my youth. Not before I can fully back them up. Perhaps there is a chance, a slight chance that she feels something for me. This would be useful, even if only in returning the favor of inaction.
"Prince Loki Odinson, for the crimes of sheering the beloved hair from the inestimable Lady Sif. For the crimes of lying about these heinous acts, for the crimes of forcing your brother to lie in your stead you must be sentenced. The Lady Sif has long been an advocate for you, her insistence of your quiet honor has stilled many a tongue, but the very notion that even she is such target of opportunity to you proved to me ons thing. When Thor does not even stand behind you, why should any other of this court bother. When you have betrayed all, but your sibling and even he does not believe you?"
This was supposed to be where I begged. Where I claimed that I truly did not do this. It has never worked, why would I suddenly believe such demeaning actions would suddenly be effective. Odin the King of Asgard respects power and unyielding firmness and has taught both his sons that, even if he only rewarded one of them for acting so. But I have not forgotten
Oh, you old windbag. Does he not believe I see the smugness in the corner of his eyes? That I, who have comparatively ruled as long as he has, could not comprehend the situation for what it was. He is aware this 'crime' is not one charged by my hand, and even if it was…
I would most certainly chose someone other that the easily manipulated Lady Sif, who has been useful beyond measure.
Odin-King continued, "As you are you now; you are not worth of your Status of Prince. I would take your name from you if it was something that could be returned at whim and yet even I consider the shamelessness you would enact if you were unbound by those ancient oaths"
More theatrics. Odin stared around his family and liked what he saw. Frigga's weak subservience pleased him, Thor's facsimile of useless define amused him – at least until Thor would one day grow fangs – and my unending defiance for some reasons…pleased him utterly.
Despite the disappointment this realization cost me I once again had to focus on Odin-King.
"Despite you're continued against attempts to go against the grain of the Realm Eternal I offer you a single chance. One final chance; to show us your worth."
Is…is this happening? Am I dreaming?
When I was a child; a true child, there was a time I desired this creatures love and respect. How could I not, when the one from my memory regarded me nothing.
I would have gotten attached to even Albus – Fucking – Dumbledore himself if he had picked me up at the other side of existence. Even Harry - The Boy Who Would Simply Not Die might have been worthy. Without him...
A thought for another time…
I would have done anything for the creature before I fully comprehended the emptiness in his heart. Unfortunately for him, his masks are nowhere near as good as those of Albus Dumbledore, who at least managed deceive me his entire long life.
Odin-King's roars came far too often and occasionally even in the presence of his Crimson Hawks, his contempt showed to often and most unforgivable; he valued the magic-less cretin over myself.
More than anything this proved to me that Asgard does not deserve me. I held as still a possible, while only allowing fear and horror to show upon my visage. There is a good chance Odin-King would find a way to curtain my freedom from me.
"You shall be deposited upon the arid plains of Svartalfheim, where you will be tasked with the investigation of the state of the Dwarves that call that realm home"
He signed deeply and continued, "Your further task will be to inducing them to repair the damage you so callously inflicted upon your leal-ally the Lady Sif. Should you fail in either of these matters; you may regard Asgard as an exile does upon a once cherish house. You will perform, or you will fade."
Fade. A shiny euphemism for 'you will die slowly as I will deny you to the Golden Apples of Asgard that grant eternal youth'
There was terrible testament to the power of the Allfather. There was no courtly titter in this matter. Only dreadful silence followed. Not even I spoke, or let even single thread of my magic loose.
Did they not comprehend? Do they not see I could rid myself of them all?
Merely by doing nothing.
The questions that finally pierced the silence were obvious; would Prince Loki find a race that has not deigned contact for longer than Burison lay buried?
Would Prince Loki work his silver-tongue to the benefit of his errant friend? All of their questions rested upon this. Even Thor was likely wondering how I would accomplish his, in his mind likely reasonable, demand by the Allfather.
None focused on the opportunity. On the priceless opportunity that I would never have to face the likes of him again; not without extremely unlikely circumstances…
I finally had a chance.
Who could have ever considered that?
I Lord Voldemort- the Merciless – He Whom Must Not be Named. The Adversary. The Greatest Dark Lord our generation has ever seen. The man who deserves nothing, but now has the chance for freedom..
I have a chance. What sane creature would suffer hellish circumstances, merely for the benefit of returning to circumstances that are...only barely more tolerable? If Odin-King knew I had no intension of returning, his Crimson Hawks - the most trusted of his Einharjar- would chase me until the very end of the world-tree.
The universe is truly cruel; capricious that someone such as I now stands a chance at freedom.
Odin is exceedingly fond of his feasts, his grand affairs and every other opportunity where the opulence of Asgard might be on show. Fortunately, this was a shameful moment and one only attended by the closest of kin.
Or at least, those that believe themselves such.
Heimdall; ever vigilant Heimdall kept his gaze upon me as weapon after weapon were divulged from me. Daggers fell out my sleeves, more daggers fell out my sleeves, garrote's were extracted from my hair, Xandarian Drones were prevented from following me and most damning of all;
Odin and Frigga both ensured that the bracelets that were supposed to inhibit my magic, truly took hold. It might have worked perfectly if I was fully Aesir, but we all knew I was not. It would not have required the height of wit to wonder why the magic suppressing bands seemed to be designed for Jotnar.
Did the original Loki never notice this; or was he too caught in the ever bearing and bright, colloquially known as 'We Hate Magic-Land'.
Thor. I know not what his role was. Perhaps he was simply to see the inevitability of dissension?
Heimdall put his legendary sword into the sheath of the heart of the Bifrost, its unimaginable power hummed with a harmony that reminded me of the interplay of the stars, and before I knew it...it was time.
Frigga hugged me, and I bore her affections as best I could. Thor attempted the same and I hit him with a sticky charm that would not release him while the sun still hung in the air. They would believe I prepared for the loss of my magic, they would always consider the easiest path. Especially when it comes to me.
Odin gave me a nod. A nod, as he sends what he publicly accepts as his heir to his very likely death. None of it touched me as I stepped through the Bifrost and fell as I have never fallen before.
It was both controlled and completely out of control, it was nurturing and it was breathtakingly dangerous. Whoever predated us that made this must have been true giants of their airs.
Once I fell through the Bifrost and stumbled upon the dark, faintly red glowing planet I oriented myself around the environment. It was difficult to see beyond a few miles, courtesy of the dying sun.
I could attempt to connect myself, or at least a sliver of me, with the world beneath my feet, but I hesitated. No true Prince of Asgard set foot here in twenty-five millennia year. Who knew what the Mother of Swartalfheim would think of me.
After that brief urge of insecurity I considered my bind and thought that an early, and sufficiently impressive death, may see to me to more interesting worlds.
I expected confusion, anger and more than a little bit of ending fury for daring to contact such a long dormant spirit. What I received however was the confused muddling of a creature so ancient, so weathered...that it had nearly forgotten was existence was like.
It was at once the strangest experience I have ever had the pleasure of feeling as well as the single most elaborating confirmation of how little I truly matter in the larger scheme of matters.
Svartalfheim was as alive as any of the other planets was and for some reason, it chose not to smite me. It had been centuries since I felt so free.
I was free.
I was free.
By Sweet Circe's Tits, I was free.
And then the most grating voice in existence spoke; "Little Aesir who is not, how interesting. I'm sure you'll have tales –
I'm sure more came next, but I passed out from the strain of communing with the Mother of Swartalfheim.
AN: My impression of the MCU:
The MCU is Messed Up and Scary
What is not provided in the MCU will be provided by me and interesting comics. Don't come at me with; but Wolverine's claws can't cut through the Captain's Shield. If I say they can, the Captain will soon be known as Stumpy.
Beyond this: I am a benevolent GM: if you wish to argue rules, bring precedents or scenarios ripe for abuse. Bring me background threads that tie strange comic plots together. Bring me theories that can add to the enjoyment of the story.
Gladsheim
In Media Res
Chapter 1: Prince Loki Odinson the Terrible of Asgard: Once known as the Dread Lord Voldemort - He Who Must Not Be Named
The halls that contained the private studies of Odin-King were a marvel to behold. They lacked the unorganized clutter of ancient Wizards like Dumbledore's, but they more than made up for with the pilfered goods of endless worlds. Asgard was wealthy and its powerful King was one mind that such fortune aught to be displayed.
Most impressive of all was the wizened Ancient King that ruled Asgard, fortress of the Aesir people, for the better part of three millennia. There has been no strife he failed to witness, no glory he has failed to attain and no failure has ever truly stained his rule. Of all the Kings of Asgard, starting with Buri himself, Odin-King could comfortable stand among them without nary a thought to inadequacy.
To say that he was impressive would be understating matters enormously. Just ask his enemies…
Lord Voldemort, who once stood with nary a soul as an equal, now quaked before a creature that might genuinely refer to itself as deity. Once I was a Master of Magic, a commander of the Dark Arts without true equal. First he was known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, a boy born of reasonably common extraction with only the burning might of magic to set him apart from the unending seas of average muggles.
After that he became Prefect Riddle of the Hogwarts House of Slytherin. In his short life he attained the respect, and more than a healthy dose of fear, of those who once dared looked down upon him. These pureblood were ground of their pride of straight into subservient nothingness while the boy helped myself to their to their offerings of their House Magics.
Much like all other Magic, it came easy to the boy, despite the burden of lacking most of their bloodlines. It was one a luck of the greatest proportions, that the magical Line he could claim was one as ancient and interconnected in the past as there ever was. The boy found out he was a member of the House of Gaunt.
Not fully an heir, even those circumstanced would be ensured by the land to cement that position, but enough of a relation to suffer only mildly from the benefit of his stolen magics. More than anything, these 'taints' of foreign magic helping the lad turn into the man.
Into Lord Voldemort.
He was powerful, not to be denied and served by the very best he could compel. In short, life was good to Lord Voldemort. Until, suddenly, it was not.
All his precautions turned for not, his callous disregard of prophecy broke him and once the end was unavoidable; only the mercy of a small child, a boy…broken almost as much as he was himself, saved him.
Never, in his wildest dreams, could he have imagined the possibility of a reincarnation, and yet here Lord Voldemort stood. He could suppose that there should be more hand a hint of pleasantness that his next vessel, despite the fact is was still referred to it as such, not only was sufficient to contain his previous might, but held the possibility to exceed it beyond the most wild of expectations.
In his new form as Prince Loki Odinson he stood in front a creature so terrifying serious considerations should be make to pre-emptive surrender. Fortunately for one so accustomed to success this feeling fast passed.
Next to me in my regard, and to not mention foremost in heart of those of all else in attendance, stood my elder sibling. His name was Prince Thor Odinson, the current Crown-Prince of the Realm Eternal.
As far as the Wizard was concerned this seemed an unlikely state of affairs for very long. The boy, the man he was rapidly becoming, was my only his rival because Odin-King feels the need to present such fiction. The reborn-Wizard, for the life of him, could not comprehend why this was not simply a forgone measure.
Why embolden this strife between his heirs; why pretend at this facsimile of contest?
Why not simply elevate his natural borne son?
Why not allow myself in this brand new form to carve my own name across the stars? Stars, which I knew positively, teemed with life. The old life of the would-be-conqueror has proved to be, if not a complete waste, than at least only noteworthy as a motivation to greatness. Surely there was one that beheld a world filled with magic users?
Certainly not when Odin has his words to say on that matter. You see; the man had plans within plans, within plans. For some reason, these included myself.
It did not matter; Odin-King was about to speak. Disregarding him was impossible. The reborn-Wizard melted away in spirit and all that remained was a contrite little godling.
===========================
With a timbre that spoke of distant disappointment, vague distaste for the policy our actions has forced him into as well as the sheer dominating energy that pervaded the study all taught us one important lesson; Theatrics Matter, even for Kings.
"Loki, Odinson." This new appellation of mine was, if not pleasant, thankfully entirely inoffensive. Long have I attempted to fit in when I first arrived, but it appears that Odin-King was no fool to be easily played.
The best I managed to do was to pretend to be a thorough amnesiac that can scarcely recall some time before the current one, even if he is aware of one. This was accepted, tenuously, but for long centuries exceptionally close gazes were kept upon me.
"If I find myself disappointed-."
Thor, in his annoyingly childish and naïve manner attempted to intervene, "Father, I assure you that this matter-."
Slowly, ever so slowly, the King to Gods slowly raised his hand. Far more than these shallow events obviously occurred, but I'm not going to waste my time explaining to you magicless cretins the unholy terrors that unfolded before us, courtesy of Odin-King. With a single waved he bound tumultuous power, with ease so practiced that I could not help the waves of unending jealousy coursing my very being.
One day Odin, I would match you.
Once, I believed. Once, I believe so deeply and thoroughly in my strength that my delusion prevented me from perceiving the brilliance of others.
My rage had be kindled by the most pathetic of reasons, It would blind my to actions that otherwise would have giving me pause and thought nothing of the fact of wantonly sharing my more destructive spell-constructs might come with unexpected and horrible surprises.
My death and subsequent…spending of time taught me better. Words fail me, it can simply not be described. Not properly. I was cleansed, I was punished and I was reborn.
My lieutenants of old, my Knights of Walpurgis – the group I gathered around me in Hogwarts in the early thirties -, fought at my side the against the remaining servants of the most terrible Dark Lord of our generation. Together with Lady Cassiopeia Black – a women of singular talent that I hoped to replicate to my own interest in the heiress of her spirit. Unfortunately, while Bella is brilliant, she is no Cassiopeia.
I put up myself, and my network of friends and favors, as a bulwark against the opportunists of Grindelwald Their magic was powerful to the point of suffusing an entire battle-field, the Lady Black contemptuously ended this long term threat and turned the backlash of the failed workings upon their masters. If I could love; at the moment she would have cemented it.
At the time, I believed this to be my greatest accomplishment. So certain was I that this would be my entrance into the grander political world. The minions of Lord Grindelwald's screams were heard across a continent and I hoped to build my empire upon its ruins.
I stayed behind in the Low Countries, it was the late fifties at the time; the Lady Black was entertained by my interest, and I learned all I could for the given oath I would share all I knew with a suitable heir which was to take the Black name, despite my own illustrious heritage. Fortunately, the Wizarding War did not properly before my tuition had come to a reasonable conclusion, nor did it last enough for me to be forced to supply my side of the oath.
The final battle was upon us and all I can say is that I spent it on a mostly inactive field, best served to cut young officers teeth. I will not lie; this relieved me more than anything else had. I had little relish to serve the Britons that I felt served me, not at all.
Even at my posting more and more power was thrown around, ancient ley-lines that had long remain dormant opened up in fury and used up before any sane creature could even come to a consideration of their eventual use. The Europe of Old, the Old World, the World that was the center of the supernatural simply ceased to be. It could certainly have been rebuilt, recovered what was possible as well as spending unending funding to bring the land back to a simile of what it once was.
Albus – too many names – Dumbledore, put an end to this. Granted, it was his eloquent speeches that swayed so very many to believe in his doctrine of British Hegemony. Why wouldn't they, especially since for save for handful Slavic Purebloods, a dozen or so Makedonian Spell Crafter of Ancient Lines…did power not lay in the Island of Albion. Did Lord Solaris not hail from here, did the Creators of Hogwarts not call it home and in more recent days...Did the House of Black, the House of Gaunt and the House of Dumbledore – recently elevated it may be – prove that this lineage was ours was custom and power. Atlantis fell, Rome crumbled, Central Bohemia could not bear Grindelwald. Only Great Britain survived, thrived and succeeded beyond any reasonable expectation. Or, at least that was what I thought.
============
I should have known better, but this deep failing of mine to be caught in interesting reminisces was not something I could afford. Important matters were at hand and I needed every inch of my wits to survive this.
The All-Father of Asgard
Odin-King.
Odin the Deceiver.
Odin Oathbreaker.
Odin Spearbreaker.
Odin-the Wolf King Wanderer.
There are many names for this creature before me; most deserved, other simply taken out of convenience. My sibling and I too have some interesting appellations.
Prince Thor – The God of Thunder
Prince Thor – The Golden Slaughterer
Prince Thor – Of the Unending Rage
Prince Thor – Asgard's King-To-Be
In this lifetime I am publicly, and occasionally not so publicly, known as;
Prince Loki – The God of Magic
Prince Loki- The Silver-Tongue
Prince Loki – The Prince of Darkness
Prince Loki - Whose Abeyance of Whims is all that saves you from the consequences of his mild inconvenience.
Odin's Power, as of yet, dwarfed mine, substantially. I have not yet considered whether this is a consequence of his seat of power, the belief of the average inhabitant of the Nine Realms or perhaps he outstrips me so magnificently based on no tricks.
I prefer not to the think of the latter. Thankfully, I do not fully fear this unending might of Odin-King. Do not misunderstand me, should the worst occur…I will be destroyed without the chance to adequately defend myself. There were however ways of power that did not rely on might alone.
Oh, how I wish I learned this before.
You see, there is a scandalous secret. It was a juicy secret, no less. A secret, so scandalous, that it could tear Asgard apart with ruthless abandon within moments. Civil wars would rage across the Realm Eternal, and despite the fear that the House of Odin inspires, it has not been our Royal House since the inception of Asgard.
Lord Tyr was of the line of Buri. Lord Skadi was of the line of Buri, in a matrilineal line. Lady Sif's mother was the spawn of an acknowledged bastard of Buri. King Bor, Lord Bor as he was known them, spawned many…many a bastard and knew better than to have them acknowledged.
And yet, even he favored some and there are houses such as House Theoric Reaperson, House Ragnar Luthbrukson and many others that could claim such descent.
Odin-King is power incarnate, but it had been a hardwon lesson for me to accept that it is not enough to win wars. Unlikely myself however, Odin-King has won ever single of his wars. Perhaps he could survive and hold his throne. There was little I was unwilling to credit him with.
You see; all of that set a stage. A stage of tragedy, with great chance of turning to farce, that will encompass more than merely Asgard. Where Asgard points; the Nine Realms follow, as they traditionally have.
Were Asgard to cease pointing, especially in circumstances that are entirely possible outcomes, certain truths would come to light.
The spawner of such strong sons, Odin-King, is in truth only one of their sires. I have never truly called him Father, not in many a century, but I aware of the risks involved with denying him. Should the truth come out; should Asgard be made aware of my heritage…
Matters would not progress well for me. All of my politicking, all of my positioning would be meaningless. All the allies I built, mostly out of Asgard proper, would perhaps not abandon me…but be intensely aware of my lack of relative worth. There is a difference, no matter of protocol dictates otherwise, between a Son of Odin and a Son of Laufey.
I never had much luck with fathers before. There is little reason to assume that this Majesty, or even the other, would somehow be better than the previous.
Even as Midgard burned around this orphan and he learned of the indifference of the Wizards, there were books. Books written by Tolkien, whose words seem strangely accurate now. Books written by Asimov, who works seem even more strangely accurate now.
Thankfully, boring summers filled with libraries that prided themselves on the 'Classics' ensure that I have always been fascinated by godlings. Beyond the Greeks and Roman, I am intimately aware with the goings on of the Norse Godlings.
More worryingly, despite the many – and varied differences in the Poetic Eddas regarding Asgard and it's denizens – there was one.
Just one.
Just one unending truth, in whichever form it might come.
Loki, whichever his form takes him. Whether he is Jotnar, Eldnar, one of the Aesir, or any other creature in the universe. One matter is true and clear. Odin-King and his many appellations may best be described as [Loki's-Bane]. I could spend pages after pages enumerating his various faults, but even a fool would comprehend these are not the actions of a friend:
1. Odin is a Kin-Slayer on a level that would stagger anyone with a spec of a conscience
2. In the stories he rides my vessels 'son' as it were just another beast.
3. The various other 'monsters' spawned by this vessel may have been avoided, but I am aware of their fates. More than anything this will be the final nail in his coffin.
4. Hela, my beautiful Hela. Words are not necessary in this matter. Only the suffering of all involved will do.
5. This vessels role in life seems to have been solely to serve as punching bag for those more powerful than him. When he grew to the point of this becoming unfeasible, it was almost as if I stared into a mirror.
6. Much like myself; this creature, the Odin-King believes in Prophecy to his detriment. This will be the instrument of my vengeance.
And unfortunately, in this or perhaps even the next world to come…this is to be my lot. I am to suffer Odin-King, until one day I gather the strength to put a stop to this.
Unless of course; my very knowledge of these matters prevents them. There is a chance, no matter how slight, that all these concerns could be forgotten about and 'butterflied' out of existence if you will.
Unfortunately this requires an optimistic man, or at least a fool. Fortunately I am neither. I am unwilling to rely on fortune, the supposed 'help' of others and those that would be my incarnation 'family' if they were willing to accept these occurrences.
Unfortunately I forgot, I forgot that Odin-King always has another card to play. A card; that while nearly meaningless to my personage – has publicly claimed, and been backed in such claims, to have 'saved' me from an arbitrary level of suffering.
This is supposed to mean something. Even with the unlikely existence of the one know as Hela, I am come undone by the very possibility of its existence. Worlds would burn, realms would freeze and a universe would know my rage.
All for, what basically amounts to, an imaginary relation that I caused my own actions. Not some relative forced upon me. Not someone who claims relation based on long passed moments.
No, I would be truly responsible for such a creature because I made them. They, Hela, however it might end up be would be grand.
Or, there is still the universe burning.
I've never claimed to be sane, but I'd like to think I am…growing.
If Queen Frigga wishes to play at loving parent; so be it. There is little I do can speak to the contrary, which would only invite undue questioning. I would simply be perceived as ungrateful. Even her feeble defense is grating to for I know it be empty of any true will, "My King, must you not give our boy a chance to defend himself?"
How would this help; I gave my part of the story. I was in my room, reading. As I have done so often. If I wished Sif harmed, the cutting of hair would not be where in which direction my mind drifted off.
Somehow this defense was unaccepted. For some reason this line of defense was worth very little. I attempted to logic my way past, this too was ignored despite a fair attempt. Once again I decided to simply bear whatever nonsense Odin-King had in store for me.
Perhaps my innocence would be proving and I could use this to checkmate his power in the Council – Odin, does not comprehend how very many fear his capriciousness. Or I could take the easy way out and fail. Bitter as that sentiment would be; I would simply be the better for it.
Asgard has never truly offered me anything of worth. Anywhere else would do. Especially since in 'anywhere else' included the unspoken assumption of the lack of any creature that could conceivably threaten me. More and more this drew my mind in interesting directions.
A gruff response came, "It was offered, he chose to lie and lie poorly."
A flash of red raced across my eyes, but it was certain Odin missed it. He has not bothered to truly notice me in a long eon.
The aged Tyrant continued, "Your intention in shielding your errant son does you much honor, but I refuse to entertain this notion. A wise King does not lie so unthinkingly and both of our sons must learn this. There are consequences; even for the likes of us."
I wonder what he'd do to Thor? Perhaps he'd make him wave at the people for hours on end. That sounds like a proper punishment for the exalted one known as Thor. Oh, do I sound bitter?
Have you ever failed to surreptitiously murder a defenseless child seventeen thousand times in a row, only to watch him grow from strength to strength? At least if Asgard knew about his preposterous luck they would have proper reason to love him as they do.
This current situation is little new for me, but I considered the way this looked to the others. I wondered whether he invited Thor in to teach him, with my example on what not to be. Odin-King, generally, was pleased to inflict his meandering lecturing upon me to be suffered in open court. Where else would he conjure up the witnesses needed to ensure to contrast the weakness of Loki to his oh so beloved heir.
I know I claim that Thor is a fairly useless sort as those things go, but these claims hold merit. He. Is. An. Idiot. Then again, only an even greater idiot continues acting against the world when the entire universe seems to conspire to keep him safe.
The Lady Frigga, Mother as she prefers to be addressed is a hauntingly beautiful woman who has a desperate need to be loved. I wish I could take advantage of this, but she shares her heart with three creatures and I have never been one for sharing. Well, that and her laughably see-through attempts at making me bend to Odin-King.
As if I cannot tell by her words. Allow to me to sketch a scenario; a maiden in the service of Frigga feels the call to nature and unlike her compatriots she revels in being different. The focus of her affections turned out to be me. While I am willing to admit that I easily succumbed, what I do not expect was an accusation of rape.
Fortunately I was a Prince and investigations in those matters are thorough, but I cannot forget those first few moments. I have saw her rage, I saw the wounded hurt that I would harm one of hers. That latter part I only understand once I regained the majority of my memories.
This women was part of her in-group, I was part of her in-group, we should have gotten along like a house on fire – even those the reasoning for those words being portents of prosperity I do not understand -, which in a sense of a way happened.
All she saw was that I 'took advantage' of a young women that 'could never deny a Prince'.
This attitude, this slipping of characters of her, cannot be accepted, so for long while longer I must pretend her kindness is true, but I have long since learned that exquisitely - no matter how pretty- empty words mean nothing without coupled with decisive action.
One day that will unendingly come and on that one day, even she will learn that leaving a child with the words: "Your Father has a reason for all he does, trust he has your best interest in heart."] Does nothing, but fully instruct that child where the true priorities lay. Odin-King has reasons for harming me. That was understood; I knew him to not be mind-less. Odin-King has my best interest in heart?
My chest burned with the need to ask: "How, are you merely pretending to be blind or are you truly this weak?"
I learned the emptiness of that particular lesson of Frigga's early. All I regret is that I may have shown my hand to the Odin-King's War-Bride.
I pray she does not repeat the rebellious words of my youth. Not before I can fully back them up. Perhaps there is a chance, a slight chance that she feels something for me. This would be useful, even if only in returning the favor of inaction.
"Prince Loki Odinson, for the crimes of sheering the beloved hair from the inestimable Lady Sif. For the crimes of lying about these heinous acts, for the crimes of forcing your brother to lie in your stead you must be sentenced. The Lady Sif has long been an advocate for you, her insistence of your quiet honor has stilled many a tongue, but the very notion that even she is such target of opportunity to you proved to me ons thing. When Thor does not even stand behind you, why should any other of this court bother. When you have betrayed all, but your sibling and even he does not believe you?"
This was supposed to be where I begged. Where I claimed that I truly did not do this. It has never worked, why would I suddenly believe such demeaning actions would suddenly be effective. Odin the King of Asgard respects power and unyielding firmness and has taught both his sons that, even if he only rewarded one of them for acting so. But I have not forgotten
Oh, you old windbag. Does he not believe I see the smugness in the corner of his eyes? That I, who have comparatively ruled as long as he has, could not comprehend the situation for what it was. He is aware this 'crime' is not one charged by my hand, and even if it was…
I would most certainly chose someone other that the easily manipulated Lady Sif, who has been useful beyond measure.
Odin-King continued, "As you are you now; you are not worth of your Status of Prince. I would take your name from you if it was something that could be returned at whim and yet even I consider the shamelessness you would enact if you were unbound by those ancient oaths"
More theatrics. Odin stared around his family and liked what he saw. Frigga's weak subservience pleased him, Thor's facsimile of useless define amused him – at least until Thor would one day grow fangs – and my unending defiance for some reasons…pleased him utterly.
Despite the disappointment this realization cost me I once again had to focus on Odin-King.
"Despite you're continued against attempts to go against the grain of the Realm Eternal I offer you a single chance. One final chance; to show us your worth."
Is…is this happening? Am I dreaming?
When I was a child; a true child, there was a time I desired this creatures love and respect. How could I not, when the one from my memory regarded me nothing.
I would have gotten attached to even Albus – Fucking – Dumbledore himself if he had picked me up at the other side of existence. Even Harry - The Boy Who Would Simply Not Die might have been worthy. Without him...
A thought for another time…
I would have done anything for the creature before I fully comprehended the emptiness in his heart. Unfortunately for him, his masks are nowhere near as good as those of Albus Dumbledore, who at least managed deceive me his entire long life.
Odin-King's roars came far too often and occasionally even in the presence of his Crimson Hawks, his contempt showed to often and most unforgivable; he valued the magic-less cretin over myself.
More than anything this proved to me that Asgard does not deserve me. I held as still a possible, while only allowing fear and horror to show upon my visage. There is a good chance Odin-King would find a way to curtain my freedom from me.
"You shall be deposited upon the arid plains of Svartalfheim, where you will be tasked with the investigation of the state of the Dwarves that call that realm home"
He signed deeply and continued, "Your further task will be to inducing them to repair the damage you so callously inflicted upon your leal-ally the Lady Sif. Should you fail in either of these matters; you may regard Asgard as an exile does upon a once cherish house. You will perform, or you will fade."
Fade. A shiny euphemism for 'you will die slowly as I will deny you to the Golden Apples of Asgard that grant eternal youth'
There was terrible testament to the power of the Allfather. There was no courtly titter in this matter. Only dreadful silence followed. Not even I spoke, or let even single thread of my magic loose.
Did they not comprehend? Do they not see I could rid myself of them all?
Merely by doing nothing.
The questions that finally pierced the silence were obvious; would Prince Loki find a race that has not deigned contact for longer than Burison lay buried?
Would Prince Loki work his silver-tongue to the benefit of his errant friend? All of their questions rested upon this. Even Thor was likely wondering how I would accomplish his, in his mind likely reasonable, demand by the Allfather.
None focused on the opportunity. On the priceless opportunity that I would never have to face the likes of him again; not without extremely unlikely circumstances…
I finally had a chance.
Who could have ever considered that?
I Lord Voldemort- the Merciless – He Whom Must Not be Named. The Adversary. The Greatest Dark Lord our generation has ever seen. The man who deserves nothing, but now has the chance for freedom..
I have a chance. What sane creature would suffer hellish circumstances, merely for the benefit of returning to circumstances that are...only barely more tolerable? If Odin-King knew I had no intension of returning, his Crimson Hawks - the most trusted of his Einharjar- would chase me until the very end of the world-tree.
The universe is truly cruel; capricious that someone such as I now stands a chance at freedom.
Odin is exceedingly fond of his feasts, his grand affairs and every other opportunity where the opulence of Asgard might be on show. Fortunately, this was a shameful moment and one only attended by the closest of kin.
Or at least, those that believe themselves such.
Heimdall; ever vigilant Heimdall kept his gaze upon me as weapon after weapon were divulged from me. Daggers fell out my sleeves, more daggers fell out my sleeves, garrote's were extracted from my hair, Xandarian Drones were prevented from following me and most damning of all;
Odin and Frigga both ensured that the bracelets that were supposed to inhibit my magic, truly took hold. It might have worked perfectly if I was fully Aesir, but we all knew I was not. It would not have required the height of wit to wonder why the magic suppressing bands seemed to be designed for Jotnar.
Did the original Loki never notice this; or was he too caught in the ever bearing and bright, colloquially known as 'We Hate Magic-Land'.
Thor. I know not what his role was. Perhaps he was simply to see the inevitability of dissension?
Heimdall put his legendary sword into the sheath of the heart of the Bifrost, its unimaginable power hummed with a harmony that reminded me of the interplay of the stars, and before I knew it...it was time.
Frigga hugged me, and I bore her affections as best I could. Thor attempted the same and I hit him with a sticky charm that would not release him while the sun still hung in the air. They would believe I prepared for the loss of my magic, they would always consider the easiest path. Especially when it comes to me.
Odin gave me a nod. A nod, as he sends what he publicly accepts as his heir to his very likely death. None of it touched me as I stepped through the Bifrost and fell as I have never fallen before.
It was both controlled and completely out of control, it was nurturing and it was breathtakingly dangerous. Whoever predated us that made this must have been true giants of their airs.
Once I fell through the Bifrost and stumbled upon the dark, faintly red glowing planet I oriented myself around the environment. It was difficult to see beyond a few miles, courtesy of the dying sun.
I could attempt to connect myself, or at least a sliver of me, with the world beneath my feet, but I hesitated. No true Prince of Asgard set foot here in twenty-five millennia year. Who knew what the Mother of Swartalfheim would think of me.
After that brief urge of insecurity I considered my bind and thought that an early, and sufficiently impressive death, may see to me to more interesting worlds.
I expected confusion, anger and more than a little bit of ending fury for daring to contact such a long dormant spirit. What I received however was the confused muddling of a creature so ancient, so weathered...that it had nearly forgotten was existence was like.
It was at once the strangest experience I have ever had the pleasure of feeling as well as the single most elaborating confirmation of how little I truly matter in the larger scheme of matters.
Svartalfheim was as alive as any of the other planets was and for some reason, it chose not to smite me. It had been centuries since I felt so free.
I was free.
I was free.
By Sweet Circe's Tits, I was free.
And then the most grating voice in existence spoke; "Little Aesir who is not, how interesting. I'm sure you'll have tales –
I'm sure more came next, but I passed out from the strain of communing with the Mother of Swartalfheim.
AN: My impression of the MCU:
The MCU is Messed Up and Scary
What is not provided in the MCU will be provided by me and interesting comics. Don't come at me with; but Wolverine's claws can't cut through the Captain's Shield. If I say they can, the Captain will soon be known as Stumpy.
Beyond this: I am a benevolent GM: if you wish to argue rules, bring precedents or scenarios ripe for abuse. Bring me background threads that tie strange comic plots together. Bring me theories that can add to the enjoyment of the story.
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Oh I am slain!
Wynaut?
- Location
- Tatooine
Yay, a new Rabby story! 
My amateur thoughts:
My amateur thoughts:
Note: @Sir Rabby, my first impression of this story likely isn't accurate or helpful. It's also only based on this single chapter. Despite my reservations, I'd much rather simply see more chapters from you, 'cause they're always fun to read. I know that for many, many authors, revisions can kill momentum if done mid-writing.
---
So. IMO, as it is right now, every paragraph about Voldemort's past exudes authorial self-indulgence.
It's as if you had three stories in mind. The first story is about Voldemort's reincarnation as Loki, and his new childhood as Loki. The second story is about Voldemort!Loki's exile from Asgard and adventures in the MCU. The third story involves filling out an AU Voldemort's life in between his original childhood and HP canon.
I think it's possible to combine the three well. But instead, the first story was too muddled in the first chapter, and barely covered with "show" scenes. Not enough to judge the second story yet, so that one might be fine--seems to be the main focus of the fic, going by the title. The third story felt self-indulgent and surprisingly boring, perhaps because that's what happens when originally grim-awesome scenes are told in recollection form.
Then at the end, the chapter develops a sort of farcical feel, since apparently he's being exiled for a prank in bad taste. That undercuts the tone from previous parts of the chapter. And then, before readers have a chance to feel that they have a grasp on Voldemort's original life and on his new life, you're already having him get thrown out of Asgard.
---
Hmm. How long are you intending this story to go? If it's just three to four chapters, I guess this level of compression makes a bit more sense, and the focus would be more on tidying it up.
Based on the title, I think you're primarily focused on plot and the butterflies that a Voldemort!Loki causes in the MCU. By that criteria, I guess this first chapter doesn't matter much, since you simply want to get to the MCU interactions.
But do be aware that this premise can seem inherently forced. It's equivalent to all those MasterOfDeath!Harry crossover fics, in which we focus on Harry starting in a new world (equivalent to your story #2), but new non-canon events were added during his Hogwarts years (equivalent to your story #3), and new non-canon events were also added after canon (equivalent to your story #1). So we end up with a Harry-mostly-in-name-only with different abilities, different history, and different personality, playing around in a new setting. Sure it'll still be hella fun to read when written by a good author like you, but the story structure, pacing, and characterizations would be messy as hell.
---
Admittedly, this could just be my own sensibilities speaking.
For example, if it were me, I'd probably cut out almost everything that goes on for more than two sentences at a time about Voldemort's previous life. And I'd avoid the in-media-res monologue. Instead, I'd focus on making the first chapter a series of short mini-scenes, sketching out Voldemort!Loki growing up. Show Voldemort!Loki's initial state and his wants, show what "normal" is like in this new life of his. Make us find him strangely likable, show how he takes this second chance, show how left out he feels at times, and show how his personality & memories as Voldemort still heavily color his perspective. Then toss him out of Asgard during the next chapter.
---
So. IMO, as it is right now, every paragraph about Voldemort's past exudes authorial self-indulgence.
It's as if you had three stories in mind. The first story is about Voldemort's reincarnation as Loki, and his new childhood as Loki. The second story is about Voldemort!Loki's exile from Asgard and adventures in the MCU. The third story involves filling out an AU Voldemort's life in between his original childhood and HP canon.
I think it's possible to combine the three well. But instead, the first story was too muddled in the first chapter, and barely covered with "show" scenes. Not enough to judge the second story yet, so that one might be fine--seems to be the main focus of the fic, going by the title. The third story felt self-indulgent and surprisingly boring, perhaps because that's what happens when originally grim-awesome scenes are told in recollection form.
Then at the end, the chapter develops a sort of farcical feel, since apparently he's being exiled for a prank in bad taste. That undercuts the tone from previous parts of the chapter. And then, before readers have a chance to feel that they have a grasp on Voldemort's original life and on his new life, you're already having him get thrown out of Asgard.
---
Hmm. How long are you intending this story to go? If it's just three to four chapters, I guess this level of compression makes a bit more sense, and the focus would be more on tidying it up.
Based on the title, I think you're primarily focused on plot and the butterflies that a Voldemort!Loki causes in the MCU. By that criteria, I guess this first chapter doesn't matter much, since you simply want to get to the MCU interactions.
But do be aware that this premise can seem inherently forced. It's equivalent to all those MasterOfDeath!Harry crossover fics, in which we focus on Harry starting in a new world (equivalent to your story #2), but new non-canon events were added during his Hogwarts years (equivalent to your story #3), and new non-canon events were also added after canon (equivalent to your story #1). So we end up with a Harry-mostly-in-name-only with different abilities, different history, and different personality, playing around in a new setting. Sure it'll still be hella fun to read when written by a good author like you, but the story structure, pacing, and characterizations would be messy as hell.
---
Admittedly, this could just be my own sensibilities speaking.
For example, if it were me, I'd probably cut out almost everything that goes on for more than two sentences at a time about Voldemort's previous life. And I'd avoid the in-media-res monologue. Instead, I'd focus on making the first chapter a series of short mini-scenes, sketching out Voldemort!Loki growing up. Show Voldemort!Loki's initial state and his wants, show what "normal" is like in this new life of his. Make us find him strangely likable, show how he takes this second chance, show how left out he feels at times, and show how his personality & memories as Voldemort still heavily color his perspective. Then toss him out of Asgard during the next chapter.
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- Location
- US
"How are a bunch of dwarves supposed to fix Sif having her hair cut?"
"The same way they solved a woeful lack of beards in the days of yore. Hair plugs and inserts. Sadly this lore has since been lost, and only they know its ken."
Prologue 01
April 1050, AD
Gladsheid
Snippets of Long Passed Moments
Deep down, I have always believed myself to be of the blood Royal. Whether in fact, spirit or simply in magic…there has never been a doubt that I deserve all that I am. It is unsettling that a mere few years can alter this perception, to the point where I might doubt my very self worth.
I've seen strife, I've suffered through unending petty slights and I was never free of that particular awareness that regardless of might occur; somehow its roots are always pointing to me.
This, whatever this new normal of mine is, should have been different. Of course, the fact it is not may perhaps be yet another one of my burdens to bare. Is this yet another belated punishment or can even these creatures see the maliciousness that lurks in my heart. Recently I have grown sufficiently to be included in the official training practices of the Warriors of Asgard. Traditionally, this is an honor. In all practicality however, it is yet another attempt by Odin to gaslight me. Why else would I be enrolled in Thor's own age-group?
Why else would I be forced to suffer the blows of those faster, strong and far more experienced than myself?
It's Odin. I know this truth and regardless of what that mildly infuriating Queen Frigga has to share, I also know that Odin is not unaware of his actions. Unfortunately for him; he is not dealing with an easily moldable child.
He is facing me! I, who could drive a man insane with less effort than swatting away a gnat
Lord Tyr; the grandest of Odin-King's devisors of torture, or what he might call himself…the current Warmaster of Gladsheim. I know him for what he is, though. Legilimancy is not a skill lightly lost, despite the lack of clarity behind my will.
All I require are impulses, senses and feelings. All of those coming from Lord Tyr indicate that he despises me. This, generally, is not a problem for me. Many man, creature or otherwise despised me in the past. Some for the actions I took. Others for the actions I refused to take. Yet more other simply acted because there was power to be had in opposing the hand of Lord Voldemort.
With a sigh that was meant solely for my ears Tyr leant over, "What good is a Prince that cannot even carry a claymore?"
Lessons long learned, now or in my slightly less than illustrious past, taught me the proper response to this. I was to cast my own eyes down, share a slight part of my shame and boldly proclaim I would master this or die trying.At this point however, I knew better. No Arms master worth his title would start off a student that has barely graduated from steel filled wooden training swords, to the unrelenting might required for a weapon as great – and honorable – as the claymores that grace the ranks of Odin's Einharjar.
After suffering unending diaper changes, play dates that I could swore were invitations to cull the weakness from the Aesir nobility and tutors of the barest competence taught me other, more prudent lessons.
People are stupid. This is, somehow the best they can do.
I flashed a pleasing smile – one so innocent and filled with nothing but appropriate wonder- at the aging General and replied, "Oh, there are many and varied uses for the failures of such a Prince, my Lord Tyr."
I furiously fought down the urge to smirk.
Clearly my response was unexpected and once again Lord Tyr leaned in to hear my sweetest of tones, "Oh, Prince Loki was so very promising. Have you heard of his accomplishments in the law classes?"
He still doesn't see it.
Tyr's face gently turned to the side as if in deep thought when I struck once again, "It seems as if there is so little limit to our your Prince's ability to learn. I mean, certainly he is odder than usual, but once the task is complete…what matters it how it is accomplished?"
It's coming through. I can see it in eyes.
"The fact that you do not grasp this means-."
I was not about to entertain this, "This is not my third or even second class, that one might feasibly accept such circumstances."
"Now, my Pr-."
I slowly held up my hand, constricted the entirety of Lord Tyr's essence and squeezed. I squeezed until there was not a part of him remaining that did not feel my unnatural power. Let Asgard disregard my might. A muggle scientist by the name of Pavlov, long ago suggested that certain stimuli – provided they are sufficiently applied – are able to alter the behavior of others. While it is true he merely had to deal with canines – biddable animals at best – I was forced to content with creatures that believe themselves the very pinnacle of creating.
Either a truly impressive amount of ruthless power was necessary to grind them to my wishes, or I will work that magic that I have so often seen work amazingly.
There is a different between Mischief – what my vessel was most known for – and Pranks. I could have slipped into the ranks of the God of Pranks, and avoided the blow black that would near inevitably come from the callous disregard of Mischief.
Or I could choose my own path. One I treated long before. One path that agreed with me on such a level that it could only be described, in truth, as a complete representation of myself. In this matter I was challenged by only a handful of other creatures.
Odin-King was known as an excellent user of Seidhr – the extremely limited form of 'Magic' these unfortunates have to deal with as well as his wife, my supposed Mother, Frigga-Queen. Her own magic has a more prophetic charm to it and despite how I attempted to be diplomatic about it; I simply refused to waste my divination. She, as well the Odin-King himself were not entirely pleased with this development. They, perhaps, regarded the title of Magic Masters as theirs. They might perhaps even connive to shackle me with such demeaning names as Lies-Smith. That will be not be happening, regardless of the consequences.
Which means that there is an opening; A space for a God to Slip in. Not merely slip in, but fit in such a manner that it should be a surprise anything else was more than a faint possibility. It is a long story how I came about this title of mine, but I imagine we shall get to it.
I am, what I am. And what I specifically am; is the God of Magic.
The. God. Of. Magic.
I was substantially dissuaded from my course, in both pleasant ways as well as those that might be best described as; 'there will come a time you will pay for this'. None of it matters, I borne everything they threw at me. Even the Norns themselves came to speak their part. For once I was not disappointed.
I. Am. The. God. Of. Magic.
If you knew me in a previous life this would surprise you not.
I was shaken from my musing and was reminded by my current situation, "I, my Lord Tyr, was not finished. You know where you went wrong in this matter; I can feel the niggling fear in the back of your mind, of whether the lack of standing from resulting in begging for the Odin-King's attention will be worth it."
I smiled a grin so sharp its message could not be misunderstood, "You failed, in the most spectacular way possible. Either this is a prompt from the Allfather, in which case you would not have deflated so pathetically…or this is an empty, ill-considered attempt to shame one you lack the wits to passably grasp let alone fully comprehend."
Slowly, ever so slowly, I unhanded the General and gently guided him back to the floor. This was his opportunity; this was his moment of possible revenge. He could run to Odin-King and beg.
He would have to explain why this was necessary; this story could not be kept from the court at large…let alone the entirely bug eyed students staring at me. Even Thor simply stood there. Whether it was his disbelief that Lord Tyr would stoop to the – his idiocy in his complete lack of understanding of the greater political situation of Asgard – or any of a thousand reasons that someone make sense to the boy.
Moments passed, slowly.
A very specific, and highly amusing, expression worked its way past Lord Tyr's expression. I could attempt to take more joy from this, but it was barely a victory worth expressing.
Lord Tyr has skill I desperately covet. If there was any way I could get my hands on them, without compromising the honor – honor, another admittedly shiner word than pride – of Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard, I would have accepted that.
I could have accepted slight disrespect. I lived through the benign contempt of Dumbledore, a bully in the mold of Lord Tyr is meaningless to me. I could have survived the contempt of those higher born – for whatever that was worth - but the circumstances in this world dictate that very inability.
I am the pinnacle of nobility.
I am the pinnacle of nobility.
I am the pinnacle of nobility.
Did I need to say that three times? Not particularly, but it felt divine.
I will acquire Tyr's skills, the matter of which mean little to me. In fact, the more he resists; the more I feel as though it truly matters. Perhaps I should look into this?
AN: Feedback and commentary is appreciated and indeed, feed my muse!
Gladsheid
Snippets of Long Passed Moments
Deep down, I have always believed myself to be of the blood Royal. Whether in fact, spirit or simply in magic…there has never been a doubt that I deserve all that I am. It is unsettling that a mere few years can alter this perception, to the point where I might doubt my very self worth.
I've seen strife, I've suffered through unending petty slights and I was never free of that particular awareness that regardless of might occur; somehow its roots are always pointing to me.
This, whatever this new normal of mine is, should have been different. Of course, the fact it is not may perhaps be yet another one of my burdens to bare. Is this yet another belated punishment or can even these creatures see the maliciousness that lurks in my heart. Recently I have grown sufficiently to be included in the official training practices of the Warriors of Asgard. Traditionally, this is an honor. In all practicality however, it is yet another attempt by Odin to gaslight me. Why else would I be enrolled in Thor's own age-group?
Why else would I be forced to suffer the blows of those faster, strong and far more experienced than myself?
It's Odin. I know this truth and regardless of what that mildly infuriating Queen Frigga has to share, I also know that Odin is not unaware of his actions. Unfortunately for him; he is not dealing with an easily moldable child.
He is facing me! I, who could drive a man insane with less effort than swatting away a gnat
Lord Tyr; the grandest of Odin-King's devisors of torture, or what he might call himself…the current Warmaster of Gladsheim. I know him for what he is, though. Legilimancy is not a skill lightly lost, despite the lack of clarity behind my will.
All I require are impulses, senses and feelings. All of those coming from Lord Tyr indicate that he despises me. This, generally, is not a problem for me. Many man, creature or otherwise despised me in the past. Some for the actions I took. Others for the actions I refused to take. Yet more other simply acted because there was power to be had in opposing the hand of Lord Voldemort.
With a sigh that was meant solely for my ears Tyr leant over, "What good is a Prince that cannot even carry a claymore?"
Lessons long learned, now or in my slightly less than illustrious past, taught me the proper response to this. I was to cast my own eyes down, share a slight part of my shame and boldly proclaim I would master this or die trying.At this point however, I knew better. No Arms master worth his title would start off a student that has barely graduated from steel filled wooden training swords, to the unrelenting might required for a weapon as great – and honorable – as the claymores that grace the ranks of Odin's Einharjar.
After suffering unending diaper changes, play dates that I could swore were invitations to cull the weakness from the Aesir nobility and tutors of the barest competence taught me other, more prudent lessons.
People are stupid. This is, somehow the best they can do.
I flashed a pleasing smile – one so innocent and filled with nothing but appropriate wonder- at the aging General and replied, "Oh, there are many and varied uses for the failures of such a Prince, my Lord Tyr."
I furiously fought down the urge to smirk.
Clearly my response was unexpected and once again Lord Tyr leaned in to hear my sweetest of tones, "Oh, Prince Loki was so very promising. Have you heard of his accomplishments in the law classes?"
He still doesn't see it.
Tyr's face gently turned to the side as if in deep thought when I struck once again, "It seems as if there is so little limit to our your Prince's ability to learn. I mean, certainly he is odder than usual, but once the task is complete…what matters it how it is accomplished?"
It's coming through. I can see it in eyes.
"The fact that you do not grasp this means-."
I was not about to entertain this, "This is not my third or even second class, that one might feasibly accept such circumstances."
"Now, my Pr-."
I slowly held up my hand, constricted the entirety of Lord Tyr's essence and squeezed. I squeezed until there was not a part of him remaining that did not feel my unnatural power. Let Asgard disregard my might. A muggle scientist by the name of Pavlov, long ago suggested that certain stimuli – provided they are sufficiently applied – are able to alter the behavior of others. While it is true he merely had to deal with canines – biddable animals at best – I was forced to content with creatures that believe themselves the very pinnacle of creating.
Either a truly impressive amount of ruthless power was necessary to grind them to my wishes, or I will work that magic that I have so often seen work amazingly.
There is a different between Mischief – what my vessel was most known for – and Pranks. I could have slipped into the ranks of the God of Pranks, and avoided the blow black that would near inevitably come from the callous disregard of Mischief.
Or I could choose my own path. One I treated long before. One path that agreed with me on such a level that it could only be described, in truth, as a complete representation of myself. In this matter I was challenged by only a handful of other creatures.
Odin-King was known as an excellent user of Seidhr – the extremely limited form of 'Magic' these unfortunates have to deal with as well as his wife, my supposed Mother, Frigga-Queen. Her own magic has a more prophetic charm to it and despite how I attempted to be diplomatic about it; I simply refused to waste my divination. She, as well the Odin-King himself were not entirely pleased with this development. They, perhaps, regarded the title of Magic Masters as theirs. They might perhaps even connive to shackle me with such demeaning names as Lies-Smith. That will be not be happening, regardless of the consequences.
Which means that there is an opening; A space for a God to Slip in. Not merely slip in, but fit in such a manner that it should be a surprise anything else was more than a faint possibility. It is a long story how I came about this title of mine, but I imagine we shall get to it.
I am, what I am. And what I specifically am; is the God of Magic.
The. God. Of. Magic.
I was substantially dissuaded from my course, in both pleasant ways as well as those that might be best described as; 'there will come a time you will pay for this'. None of it matters, I borne everything they threw at me. Even the Norns themselves came to speak their part. For once I was not disappointed.
I. Am. The. God. Of. Magic.
If you knew me in a previous life this would surprise you not.
I was shaken from my musing and was reminded by my current situation, "I, my Lord Tyr, was not finished. You know where you went wrong in this matter; I can feel the niggling fear in the back of your mind, of whether the lack of standing from resulting in begging for the Odin-King's attention will be worth it."
I smiled a grin so sharp its message could not be misunderstood, "You failed, in the most spectacular way possible. Either this is a prompt from the Allfather, in which case you would not have deflated so pathetically…or this is an empty, ill-considered attempt to shame one you lack the wits to passably grasp let alone fully comprehend."
Slowly, ever so slowly, I unhanded the General and gently guided him back to the floor. This was his opportunity; this was his moment of possible revenge. He could run to Odin-King and beg.
He would have to explain why this was necessary; this story could not be kept from the court at large…let alone the entirely bug eyed students staring at me. Even Thor simply stood there. Whether it was his disbelief that Lord Tyr would stoop to the – his idiocy in his complete lack of understanding of the greater political situation of Asgard – or any of a thousand reasons that someone make sense to the boy.
Moments passed, slowly.
A very specific, and highly amusing, expression worked its way past Lord Tyr's expression. I could attempt to take more joy from this, but it was barely a victory worth expressing.
Lord Tyr has skill I desperately covet. If there was any way I could get my hands on them, without compromising the honor – honor, another admittedly shiner word than pride – of Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard, I would have accepted that.
I could have accepted slight disrespect. I lived through the benign contempt of Dumbledore, a bully in the mold of Lord Tyr is meaningless to me. I could have survived the contempt of those higher born – for whatever that was worth - but the circumstances in this world dictate that very inability.
I am the pinnacle of nobility.
I am the pinnacle of nobility.
I am the pinnacle of nobility.
Did I need to say that three times? Not particularly, but it felt divine.
I will acquire Tyr's skills, the matter of which mean little to me. In fact, the more he resists; the more I feel as though it truly matters. Perhaps I should look into this?
AN: Feedback and commentary is appreciated and indeed, feed my muse!
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- Location
- USA
Right, this STILL seems pretty incoherent, and the grammar is- well, weird. Really weird. Like-
The matter of which? Do you mean manner in which? Do you mean Tyr's skills mean little (unlikely given the context)? The more "it" truly matters- what is it? What matters? What is he looking into?
And why does he call Odin Odin-King? I certainly don't remember Loki calling Thor Thor-Prince, or Voldemort calling Dumbledore Dumbledore-Headmaster.
I presume there's a reason for it, but as of now it, combined with the incredibly odd grammar- and the introspective writing style makes this very confusing to read.
Better than the previous entry, however, which was- well, I've no idea what happened in it almost at all.
I'm looking forward to more, but I really hope you can whip this up to your usual quality. It is an interesting idea.
The matter of which? Do you mean manner in which? Do you mean Tyr's skills mean little (unlikely given the context)? The more "it" truly matters- what is it? What matters? What is he looking into?
And why does he call Odin Odin-King? I certainly don't remember Loki calling Thor Thor-Prince, or Voldemort calling Dumbledore Dumbledore-Headmaster.
I presume there's a reason for it, but as of now it, combined with the incredibly odd grammar- and the introspective writing style makes this very confusing to read.
Better than the previous entry, however, which was- well, I've no idea what happened in it almost at all.
I'm looking forward to more, but I really hope you can whip this up to your usual quality. It is an interesting idea.
Image said:
Valor said:
I tried; everyone was like ' We don't understand! '
This is the compromise is make. I promise you, once through the prologue there were will be sufficient subtle stuff going on that will be missed by 90% of the readers. I hope just that those to do, mention it. Even in passing.
All of those are possibilities, but you'd have to be super super confident to bring cookies to the Norns. What is they don't like em??
Beyond that: There is absolutely nothing stopping him from this. His 'Mission' gives him the latitude to disappear for centuries if need be. If Asgard wants him back, they best pay up in respect. This seems..unlikely
I meant softening Odin, as in forcing him to come to terms with his actions. No-one ever does this, no who he must listen to ever will say such matters. Sheer consequences will force him to acknowledge the usefulness that he threw away, but this will be centuries from now. As matters stand, Voldyki would bring home a decapitated Thanos and the response of Asgard would be; How did you trick him?
General Tyr, is one of those people that I refuse to believe does not know Loki/Voldy is Jotun. He might not be as over to the top as 'Heimdall, oh look let me try to cut your fucking head off', or ' Sif, lets ignore all the times you served Asgard and simply assume you do not deserve Gugnir'. He is, however, of the mold of a 'wait and see approach'. He has waited, he has seen and he has noticed it is most certainly not a Aesir. This may as well make him a jew to a Nazi, albeit one that ostensibly works for the Allies/Russian conquerors.
Another list of people I believe know:
- Odin-King
- Queen Frigga
- The Head Healer of the Palace: whether this is Lady Eir or not.
- Lord Freyr - Brother to Queen, Frigga he assisted Odin with his war in Jotunheim.
- All the ancient warriors that surrounded Odin, and have seemingly never warmed up to Loki.
- Heimdall.
- At the very least, one or two of the Council of Asgard that assist the King with ruling.
- A handful of people that noticed matters on their own; 'Huh, he doesn't feel cold. Huh, its barely sunny why is he sweat...ohhhh'.
- Any an all servants that assisted young Loki as a child. I am imaging insanely powerful oaths.
- Lord Tyr, as one of the ancient generals that fought with Odin.
- Anyone over the age 1500 that can comprehend that
- Lady Frigga was not pregnant.
- Lord Thor kept her busy.
- Odin-King never returned long enough to...do the deed.
- Who else might be his father; he looks like much like Uncle Vili (Who was rumored to not be a son of Bestle, Odin's mother)
- There has only been one black haired Aesir (Vili)
- Odin-King was fighting for a loooong time.
- Odin-King doesn't really seem to like Loki. Were we right? is this a cuckoo?
You can imagine the horror of such a fate on your son right, for months. Some stories even claim years.
It was recorded that while Lady Frigga (Lady Freya) wept for the state of her son all Thor had to share was; "He will heal, will he not?""
As far as I am concerned: these are the people Voldemort must deal with. The fact that is took centuries to stop Thor from being mini-sociopath is meaningless to me. Thor is not a good person, Voldemort is no better. Voldemort however understands the value of a reputation. I look forward the ways Odin will attempt to get in his way.
I cannot explain Odin's contempt for his chosen son, so I chose one reason that might make sense. In everyone cycle, after every Ragnarok, Odin guarantees the next by being Loki's-Bane. If you are here for cuddle stories about the Tyrants that have quite literally ended entire worlds...you're in the wrong place.
My problem was that I did not understand what you wrote, plain and simple. My 'expectation' would be that I entered this thread presuming myself capable of comprehending what you wrote. If you'd have taken all of the OOC information above and weaved it into the story-update, then stuff might've been easier to grasp.
Good point, I expected too much out of context information. But with the other posts, is this still the case?
Should I revisit the first chapter and if so; in what manner? I don't mind having to elaborate as long as we can mostly hit the ground running.
Alright: I've edited the first chapter to include plenty of context. I have slightly edited the other chapters as well, but not all answers will be forthcoming. I've been clear that Tyr knows that Loki is a disgusting Jotun. Do not ask me to elaborate why this might have him to be a cunt. Read the Eddic Poetries if you must. Ask me if you do not understand why a specific political, or even many random, action has for consequences and why these matter.
I respond far better to the second than to the first.
I respond far better to the second than to the first.
As you have seen here, sometimes in media res is a poor choice. Its a nice shortcut for jumping into the meat of things when you have a relatively simple situation to build from, however when shit gets complicated it tends to loose effectiveness.
You frankly got a bunch of shit happening and instead of laying it out straight you keep jumping around.
The grammar of it all feels clunky, you seem to be trying for somthing but its just confusing people.
You need to clearly show some of the differences between loki and voki.
Build up to it, or perhaps show the scenes as somthing of a flash back explaining how Voki got where he is.
Somthing like, in media res start of Voki wandering that wasteland trying to get somewhere more interesting without attracting attention. Then explain how he got there, from there branch outward into his parental relationships and treatment in general. Things like why he is regarded as a trickster and deciver, dispite Voki knowing thats a bad rep and trying to avoid it.
Or perhaps why being the god of magic is such a big deal to him. Particularly when that title seems to mean nothing.
Just spread that shit out, what you have feels like your story was put in somesort of literary trash compactor and crushed it all together.
Also, you seem to be drawing quite strongly from the Eddas and with how loosely the MCU follows those its rather jarring.
Its a bit like having a fanfic treated as an extension of canon and used as the basis for another fanfic only without the numerous clashes being explained.
- Location
- Ireland
Need to get rid of this.
Next to me was my - I suppose this is not something I can disregard without proper consideration for the future - elder brother. Doesn't quite make sense the way it is. When you break a sentence like this - it has to make sense when you put in another -. So origanaly it read "Next to me was my regard, and to mention, elder sibling".
state of affairs
Yeah not sure where u are going in this bit. In a previous sentence ur saying that it is unlikely that Thor will stay crown prince. And ur saying here that u dont understand why he hasn't elevated thor.
remove space.
manner
given me
properly end before
recovered what was
elequent speeches/ elequence.
Macedonian??
strangely
Asgard??
extra delete.
both of our sons.
This current situation is a little new for me
up
before she is
kindness
one
sufferings are useful, are to the benefit of his father.
one
just "continuous"
merge? I would have done anything for the creature before i comprehended the emptiness in his heart.
unthinkable
would never face the likes of again.
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Assuming that Voki has at least some passing familiarity with the myths, he could seriously derail it and just go off on his own interests and not ever go into Aesir territory ever again.
He might consider studying the Dwarves first and how to manipulate/get their respect so that he can act as an loyal assistant/face man in return for not being abused and learning from them and making Sif's permanent wig. There is no reason for there to be the making of anything else. Given the description in the first part of the story, the Dwarves basically have a charisma score of less than 3 so they really need someone else to handle their dealing with someone else. Loki would have the motivation of learning how to make super magic items. If he needs to make weapons for others later, he could make sure to put "worthiness" requirements more along the lines of some of the myths of the sword in the stone or Excalibur (weakening or even shattering if used for an "unworthy act"). For laughs, maybe later he can give Thor a version of a large version of Sting from Middle-Earth that glows in the presence of Asgardians.
Maybe later he could do something similar to the Elves and learn any new magics there and as inside joke later make them non-cursed versions of the Elf rings of Middle-Earth.
He might to see if he does have any vulnerabilities due to being of Frost Giant ancestry and if so, how to make things to counter them. Maybe that magic from his Voldemort days with the flame-freezing charm would be useful for putting into worn items for himself.
He might consider studying the Dwarves first and how to manipulate/get their respect so that he can act as an loyal assistant/face man in return for not being abused and learning from them and making Sif's permanent wig. There is no reason for there to be the making of anything else. Given the description in the first part of the story, the Dwarves basically have a charisma score of less than 3 so they really need someone else to handle their dealing with someone else. Loki would have the motivation of learning how to make super magic items. If he needs to make weapons for others later, he could make sure to put "worthiness" requirements more along the lines of some of the myths of the sword in the stone or Excalibur (weakening or even shattering if used for an "unworthy act"). For laughs, maybe later he can give Thor a version of a large version of Sting from Middle-Earth that glows in the presence of Asgardians.
Maybe later he could do something similar to the Elves and learn any new magics there and as inside joke later make them non-cursed versions of the Elf rings of Middle-Earth.
He might to see if he does have any vulnerabilities due to being of Frost Giant ancestry and if so, how to make things to counter them. Maybe that magic from his Voldemort days with the flame-freezing charm would be useful for putting into worn items for himself.
- Location
- Idaho Falls, ID
I admit, a beta would help, but it's not quite so unreadable as some of you claim.