|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Nov 14, 2013 22:13:00 GMT -5
There was much to be said about Laufey's grand and icy halls; the huge ceiling alone, hung with lighted icicles and frosted dew-drop chandeliers was a sight most splendid to see, for it captured all manner of light which entered the hall and scattered it in bright, colored arcs across the while halls. But this was without mentioning the huge cold columns of snow that stood round the halls like white-suited soldiers, columns so large that three men could hardly wrap their arms about them. And then there was the sweeping, shining floor, encrusted with ice so thick it appeared as a sheet of bright diamond. When one looked at this marvel, there seemed a thousand different hues entangled with one another.
Presently, all along the hall, there were icy chairs and tables. Sitting round these tables and mingling in humming droves, were the royalty of kingdoms near and far, from wondrous worlds one could only imagine. They had gathered in the halls upon Laufey's request, for the king of Jotunheim searched for a proper match, a soul to suit his son-- Loki.
Watching all of this, Laufey was unmoved, icy in his calculated measurement. At his side, reclined reluctantly upon his throne, one deep blue cheek resting on his palm, was Loki. He wore his most elegant attire; princely robes made of fine furs and undulating waves of green velvet, shining colored beads, and thick bearskin boots. Considering the gathered crowd, Loki found everything and everyone within his father's halls completely, awfully, and utterly tedious.
"I grow bored, father," he mused, shifting his weight on the throne so he was leaning back to look up at the bright ceiling. "How much longer must I endure this? Can't I go find the cook? He always something fun for me to do." His father did not look at him. He was appraising the crowd carefully, rubbing his sharp blue chin.
"The time you spend with that ridiculous cook, chasing frost frogs upon the tundra has come to an end. You will remain here, Loki, and you will choose a suitable mate. What of the giant Brynhilde? She is strong and from a good family. She would make an excellent--"
"She is dull. I would much prefer to marry a burlap sack. The sack would be more attractive as well."
His father grunted. No doubt he believed an alliance with the giants of the south would prove grandly beneficial. Loki recoiled at the thought. He was but a bargaining chip to Laufey; this was his purpose. Loki was a vehicle through which Laufey meant to extend his influence and nothing more. Loki's heart throbbed painfully, and he wished very much to be with their young cook Selvig, who loved Loki, and who entertained him with all manner of silly shenanigans in the palace kitchens.
"What of Shaldir? Did you not find him pleasing?" his father began, his icy eyes still turned upon his guests. Shaldir was a tall, dark elf with bright flame-colored eyes and skin the color of coal. It was true that Loki had found him attractive, and they spent the better part of an hour dancing and discussing ancient runes, but in the end, Loki had turned away. The man was brilliant but without brilliance; he did not stir the Jotun prince's heart, or the embers of his soul -- they had parted after sharing an uninspired kiss in the palace gardens. He was still amongst the crowd, occasionally gazing at Loki expectantly.
"Pleasing. Yes. But boring. Very boring. Utterly tedious."
"An alliance with Svartalfheim would be--"
"Fortuitous. I know." He paused. "Father, I mean to retire to my chambers. If only for a moment."
"You will stay," his father said coldly. "You will stay and receive all your visitors." He smiled now, almost wickedly, so the corners of his mouth cracked. "After all, the AEsir have yet to arrive. We can't disappoint the gods of Asgard. Can we, my son? They are certain to make quite an entrance. You don't want to miss that or the golden-haired prince of which they boast. Stay. Or rue your father's wrath."
Loki swallowed, his heart sinking with misery, and his throat closing with emotion.
"Yes, father. Of course not, father."
Settling into his throne, Loki gripped the arms of his seat and bore the awful, irritating hum of royals too full of both wine and their own egos.
|
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Nov 16, 2013 19:50:59 GMT -5
The Bifrost glittered beneath the bright Asgardian sun, its multifaceted surface elegant and beautiful. In some ways it was reminiscent of quartz or ice, even diamonds or crystal, shattered and rebuilt into a breathtaking wonder-- a bridge worthy of the Aesir. Now, the hour growing late, the sun sinking lazily towards the horizon, the bridge carried upon it seven.
At the end of the rainbow bridge sat a shining, golden dome-- Heimdall's observatory. The omniscient, golden-eyed god stood resolutely at his station, his gaze distant yet alert. He greeted the seven gathered, activating the true beauty and immense power of the Bifrost. The dome spun, gathering momentum, its energy gathering in one concentrated point, and in an instant it sucked in those would-be seven travelers.
Thor, prince of Asgard and heir to the throne, golden hair shimmering in the near blinding light of the Bifrost, grinned. A knowing look passed between him and his brother, Balder the beautiful, Balder the beloved, who was also present for their trip to the realm of Frost Giants. Behind them - Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral - laughed heartily, taking joy in their travel through the Bifrost. But as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The seven stood in Jotunheim, before the large and sprawling spires of Laufey's grand palace. It was a marvel to behold, made entirely of cold, hard ice and soft, white snow.
At the front of the procession stood the Allfather, Odin, king of Asgard. Beside him stood his wife, the proud and brave Frigga.
They arrived in an array of fast, spiraling colors, shrined in pale, silver light, the Bifrost leaving a deep, intricate and tightly knotted mark beneath their feet. The palace doors opened for them, welcoming their arrival. First approached Odin and Frigga, their robes swirling about their booted feet, and behind them strode Thor, bright red cape sweeping strongly behind him. Beside him walked Balder, and bringing up the rear in no particular order the Warrior's Three; Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral.
As the swept into the hall, their presence demanding attention, the Warrior's Three dissolved into the crowd of gathered royals.
Thor's bright blue gaze swept through the hall with boredom. Just before they left for their venture to Jotunheim he had argued with his father. What point was their to obliging to Laufey's invitation? Surely his father did not mean to try to arrange a marriage between him and the prince of the Frost Giants!
I am not some bargaining chip for you to do with as you please, father! My affections are already taken; you cannot possibly mean to drag me to Jotunheim with the intention of marrying me off to their prince! This is madness! I refuse to go! The memory of their argument still burned through his mind, and he still ached with the anger of not being able to see Lady Sif before their departure.
In the end he had conceded to his father.
Even now, in the grand, shining hall, he still thought this entire setup a joke. Though he was rather intrigued by the differences between Laufey's palace of shimmering ice and Asgard's golden halls. It was like comparing the bright shining sun to the pale shimmering moon.
As they approached the throne, the hall falling into a silent hush as they observed the bold entrance of the Aesir, Thor's gaze took in first the king of the Frost Giants, then their prince, who looked just as thrilled to be there as he himself felt. He was taken aback, however, by how pleasing to the eye this prince - Loki, as he was told earlier by his father - was. Despite the deep blue of his skin, which only added to his unique beauty, there was an elegance about him set in the sharp features of his face and the way he held himself. His eyes were a deep, emerald green, standing out in stark contrast with his otherworldly complexion, gleaming in the bright hall, and utterly disinterested in everything around them.
Thor scoffed to himself. So the princeling was handsome. That alone did not make him deserving of Asgard's own princeling.
Odin swept into a low bow, acknowledging Laufey as king of Jotunheim, and the rest of the remaining procession followed suit. Thor last of all, reluctantly. "Greeting's, Laufey." Odin began, straightening up once more. "I am glad to find you well on this eve; we have arrived to honor your request." Thor struggled to refrain from rolling his eyes. "I bring before you my son, Thor, heir to the throne of Asgard."
Casting a glance at his father, Thor bowed his head in acknowledgement. "It is a pleasure and an honor." He began, lifting his head. "And I--" Pausing to look at his father again, clearly frustrated, he forced a smile, "I am pleased you have invited me here and granted me this chance to try for your son's hand."
He could only hope this night ended just as it began, and that he would not be chosen for arranged marriage. Already he yearned for Sif's presence.
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Nov 16, 2013 21:12:20 GMT -5
When the evening finally devolved into events utterly unbearable-- Shaldir had become almost desperate in his need for Loki's attentions; he had taken to milling about the throne area and offering this ad that topic of magical discussion, each more boring that the last, and most every royal had grown so drunk with ice wine that they bumbled and stumbled about the cold halls, vying with ridiculous desperation for Laufey's favor-- Loki tried to slip away from the gathering unscathed. He was in full possession of many illusion magics, but even these failed to fool his sharp-eyed father. Upon each instance, Laufey berated Loki. He demanded that he stay and receive each tedious guest, to give up these ridiculous and petty attempts to escape.
Loki had resigned himself to an evening of intense boredom, when there sounded a loud crack from outside the palace. In their drunken stupor, the gathered guests went flocking to the grand windows. On his throne, Loki sat up with marked interest, craning his neck to see over the crowd.
Outside, there appeared a magnificent column of light, not unlike the powerful flash of thunder, and just like that, the AeSir had arrived. The gathered crowd was agog with the sight; their murmured, astounded surprise filled the huge hall; suddenly, Loki's heart was in his throat.
What was this sense of foreboding? What was the awful churning in his stomach? The heavy weight of fate pressed soundly upon his shoulders, and he entertained such anxieties with nary a word. Beside him, Laufey just smiled, his chin resting on his interlaced fingers.
It was not long before the AEsir entered the hallway, and they did so with such grandiose circumstance that most everyone turned round to have a look at the intricate procession. Not only had Odin, the all-father entered Jotunheim alongside his queenly wife Frigga, but his children, beloved and revered throughout the universe, had accompanied them as promised. One, Balder the beautiful, Balder the beloved, was known to Loki as most of the nine realms knew him. Raven-haired and kindly, Balder was a man handsome and coveted. Even Jotunheim shivered beneath his beauteous gaze.
The other, Thor, was flaxen-haired and huge; his body was chiseled unto perfection, his eyes the color of bright, broken bits of sky, his greeting smile wide and blindingly white. It was difficult to remain unstunned, unaffected by Thor's sheer beauty and power. On his throne, appraising the two, Loki sat on the edge of his seat, his green eyes drinking this new and odd circumstance. His father spoke to him, albeit beneath his breath.
"And here are the AEsir, Loki. Speak well to them. Long have I desired an alliance with the all-father. Long have we deliberated bridging our two kingdoms with a faithful marriage. Go. Look upon their offered sons and choose one which appeals to you."
The AEsir approached, and after Odin spoke, he introduced his son Thor with great significance.
/My father schemes. My father is scheming something which concerns the AEsir and myself. Surely he does not mean for me to marry that-- that-- muscle-bound oaf!/
It was true that Thor was remarkably attractive. Somewhere, deep within him, a spark stirred within Loki's heart, and he was intrigued. But it would take precious more than that to win Loki's deepest affections, and looking into the distant blue of Thor's eyes, Loki knew that the man belonged irrevocably to another. Here, the two met simply to satiate their unsatiable fathers.
"Well? Go and greet them, boy," Laufey spat.
He rose from his icy seat, his elegant green robes shimmering and tinkling as he moved, and offered one cool, gold braceleted blue hand to Thor.
"I am Prince Loki of Jotunheim. I am honored to make your acquaintance, son of Odin. Allow me to offer a tour of our palace and of the silver castle gardens."
How foolish it all was! Loki was his father's helpless pawn, and all who watched the two knew this fact well.
/I do not know this wretched fool, and I do not wish to know him. What interest have I in the stupid, bumbling AEsir who are so well-aquainted with slaughtering innocents, with burning and conquering what is not theirs? Why should I show kindness to the son of a god who bends the universe to his wretched will? I refuse. I refuse!/
|
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Nov 17, 2013 21:49:34 GMT -5
There was no easy escape-- beneath his father's hard unwavering gaze and Laufey's own cool, calculating one, expectation weighed heavily upon his shoulders. He had no choice. Thor would shoulder this burden and bear this evening with the dignity and fortitude that was expected of the heir to the throne of Asgard.
If he could not endure this frivolous responsibility, then how could he possibly hope to shoulder the responsibility of ruling Asgard successfully in his father's wake?
Surely there was some way to make light of this situation! For it was he who chose what to make of it, and if he decided to treat it with dread and misery, then he had nothing but an evening of misery to look forward to, and Thor was not one to let any situation get the better of him. Least of all one so ridiculous as this.
No.
He would humor this prince, appease his father, and before he knew it the night would be over. They would return to Asgard and all would be as it should. Laufey would chose another suitor for his son, and Thor would be free to display his affections as he so desired. He would not be forced into marriage, least of all to bring closer together two kingdoms that were currently at peace with one another.
He took the hand that was offered to him firmly, his smile far more relaxed than it had been moments ago, blue eyes twinkling. "It is an honor indeed, Loki son of Laufey." Thor responded with ease, bowing over the prince's hand before releasing it and straightening up. "And I gladly accept your offer, for I find your palace most intriguing."
That at least was a truth-- the few times before he had ventured to Jotunheim's icy lands it had only been upon the frozen tundra and snowcapped mountains. This was the first time he had laid eyes upon the palace of the Frost Giants, let alone set foot inside it. The hall they stood in itself was grandiose, and easily comparable to Asgard's own halls of glittering, intricately designed ceilings and golden pillars.
Pleased with his son's obedience and noble display, Odin moved closer still to Laufey's throne. "It has been a long time, Laufey, and there is much to discuss. Let us converse in private." The main, and much anticipated, introductions now over, Balder joined the rambunctious Warrior's Three, a crowd gathering around the gods as they immersed themselves in merriment, Frigga remaining faithfully by her husband's side.
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Nov 18, 2013 22:18:34 GMT -5
The feeling of foreboding that gathered darkly in Loki's stomach swelled as Odin and Laufey spoke. His father harbored a strange and knowing glint in his eyes; though deeply engaged in conversation with the All-Father, Laufey's gaze flittered often between Loki and Thor, as if a horde of riches lay in the space between them. In that moment, Loki knew the breadth of his father's plans, and he felt the vibrant brilliance of his childhood speed into the long-forgotten past. Would he never chase frost frogs on the tundra again? Would he never spike the Jotun-duke's ice wine with wriggling diamond snakes again? The treasures of his childhood, what little existed, were they completely lost to him now?
The AeSir called Thor took his hand and grinned widely; an expression that would have been warm if not for the distance in his eyes.
It is clear that he attends merely at his father's request. Loki though. He is like me. He is here bodily, but his mind and heart exist elsewhere. This little tour of ours will prove tedious and utterly unnecessary.
"Come," said Loki, smiling coolly. "Let us walk into the gardens together. It is a marvelous sight indeed."
With this, he led the AeSir along a long, darkened corridor, where the only lights were little hanging silver lanterns that glowed like silver moons upon the ceiling in straight lines. As he moved, his garments twinkled and tinkled in the dark, the deep green silk sliding against his hips and his gold bracelets shining with every gesture. As they traveled along the corridor, Loki explained this and that ancient relic, each icy sculpture, and each interesting nook of the palace. Naturally, he looked round at Thor as he gestured from time to time -- these little speeches had become so terribly mundane for him -- and each time he cursed the little thrill of attraction that coursed through him when looking at Thor.
He may be blindingly beautiful, but there is no magic about this AeSir. He is all brawn and no brain, I think. How could he truly appreciate the subtlety of this place, particularly when his ancestors so often brought havoc to our lands? No. He and I.... there could be nothing. There will never be anything.
At the end of the corridor, Loki pushed open a set of white marble doors so that the wintery garden was revealed to their sight. The garden was filled with trees unlike any other; these trees, ash white and tall, were hung with blooming petals of ice and snow. Each little bud was like a brilliant crystal, which captured light and scattered it in colorful arcs about the garden. The ground was thick with snow, but though the two tread about in it, they left no footprint behind. The snow remained virgin and untrod, sinless and sweet. In addition, there was a fountain at the center which spouted frost into the night sky. Loki breathed deeply and perched himself on the fountain lip.
"This is the Silver Garden," said Loki, gesturing about him. "Though I suppose that is a terrible misnomer. Above all, our garden is white, almost alabaster. And here, it is said that your every guilt falls away, and you are left with a soul that is carefree and sinless. What do you think of that, Thor, son of Odin?"
He smiled coolly, appraising Thor with care.
"I am also... curious about your own lands. Do you have such a garden in your realm?"
|
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Nov 20, 2013 20:30:13 GMT -5
Unperturbed by his father's significant request for a private counsel with Laufey, Thor turned his attention completely upon the prince of Frost Giants, Loki. He was perfectly confident that a conversation between old men was simply that-- a conversation. They would reminisce the glory of old battles, perhaps begin a heated discussion over some petty triumph or loss of the past, but Thor had no doubt that when it came to marriage between the Frost Giants and Aesir, they would find themselves at odds and whatever schemes either king had been brewing prior to this meeting would simply fall apart.
At least that is what he had to believe, for the sake of his own peace of mind. For what could Asgard gain from a union with Jotunheim? Nothing worthwhile, except perhaps an extended period of peace, but their history was dark and stained with blood. Thor was not so naive as to believe this period of peace would be long lasting. It would only be a matter of time before they raised arms against one another and plunged into the violence of war.
I am looking forward to it. He responded, following Loki as he began to lead the way through the cool, dark, and oddly serene corridors of the icy palace. It was easy to see that this prince's heart was not in the tour-- he spoke with the monotone voice of someone who had recited their script one too many times for an unappreciative crowd. Despite that, Thor was still mildly fascinated by each new relic, statue, or point of interest that Loki bothered to explain to him.
He smiled, even laughed (whether or not it was appropriate laughter was left to be determined), and was curious enough to ask questions. After all, these were new tales about a land he knew nothing about outside of violence and bloodshed.
At the very least this Frost Giant was proving to be worthwhile company.
As they entered the Silver Garden, his deep red cape brushing the snow lightly behind him, his silver armor gleaming in the soft, pale light, he was amazed by lack of their footprints in the snow. Odin's beard! He exclaimed, laughing and stomping around in the snow as they neared the fountain.
Stopping in his actions as Loki spoke, Thor shrugged. It is old magic, and if it boosts freedom from guilt, then it is a powerful magic indeed. His clear blue gaze on Loki, he found himself fascinated with how perfectly this icy, elegant garden suited him. He had never before considered a man beautiful, though that was a title held by his brother and Fandral would argue over his own beauty, but that was the only word that came to mind in that moment.
And it was fleeting.
We do indeed have gardens - grand, lush, fruitful, and bursting with the vibrancy of life - but they do not compare to one such as this. It is our Golden Forest that holds ancient magics, and the secret to the Aesir's longevity. Though it was hardly a secret at all; the tale was widely known throughout all nine realms. I must admit I never dreamed a place like this could exist in Jotunheim. Even so, all else seems to be nothing more than a frozen wasteland... What is it you do around here for entertainment? He asked with genuine curiosity. What merriment could be made in a barren land of snow and ice?
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Nov 21, 2013 19:45:43 GMT -5
As the AeSir spoke, Loki found himself prickled with irritation. Though the god appeared appropriately fascinated by the garden's magic, he stomped about in the snow with the sort of irreverence Loki had come to expect from Asgardians; he spoke in loud, brash tones, shrugged his great shoulders, and looked round nonchalantly.
He cares not for our ways. He has little appreciation for the old magic that hangs over this place like a veil. He is surrounded by beauty but does not see it; he is enveloped in magic but appears not to feel it. He knows nothing short of his own brawn and workings of his own world.
Although Shaldir had proved dull company, the elf had at least shown interest in not only the silver garden but also Loki himself. He had proved almost desperate for the prince's attention. He had pressed close, held Loki's hand, knelt before him in the snow and declared his undying love. In fact, he had toiled to such great lengths that Loki bestowed a tepid kiss upon him to satiate his very obviously mounting desires.
Thor was different.
There was a definite chill between them, an icy wall of disconnect. Thor did not seem to desire Loki's attentions. He seemed not to desire any longer in the Silver Garden than what was required. Loki wanted very much to get away, and he opened his mouth to suggest a return to the icy hall, when he heard his father's voice in his head:
Loki. The AeSir are well within our grasp. Woo the boy well, and we will surely profit.
Loki wrinkled his nose and answered:
Father, the AeSir is an arrogant, thick-headed fool. I do not wish to woo him. Please, I'll return to Shaldir and appease his desires. An alliance with the elves would prove--
The elves are but dust in the winter winds when compared to the AeSir. Do as I say, boy, or suffer the consequences.
Yes, father.
Laufey was a man cruel and calculating. Loki dared not disobey his father, for he feared the sting of Laufey's abusive temper and the wicked whip of his searing words. His heart throbbing awfully in his throat, Loki looked up at Thor and smiled weakly.
"Here in Jotunheim, there is much to see and explore. These snowy peaks and frosted hills hide secrets one could only dream of -- white dragons, great, riddling trolls, hidden riches, twisted caves that extend into separate realms. There is much to our world. You need only lift the veil and... search." He paused thoughtfully, a knot of emotion forming in his stomach. "Asgard sounds... pleasant. I should like to see it sometime." With this, he rose and gestured toward the hall. "Shall we return? We could... have a glass of ice wine together, and you could tell me more."
He placed one hand gently on Thor's forearm, which was so muscular and perfectly formed that Loki could not help but marvel. He led the Aesir back inside in silence, poured two liberal glasses of ice wine, avoided Shaldir's burning, envious glare, and tried half-heartedly to continue conversation, his smile charming, his green gaze distant. He allowed one hand to linger on Thor's arm the whole while.
"Tell me more of your own home. Is everyone there as... /enthralling/ as you?"
His father was staring at him from the blue throne. Odin was at his side, and they seemed to examine the two with an intensity that was unsettling. At length, both of them gestured for the two to return to the throne, and-- all of a sudden-- the world seemed swept into a mad, dizzying, whirl. Somehow, Loki knew what would follow this summons; his father schemed. His father schemed, and Loki felt his fate twisted and shattered in his father's cold hands.
"Thor. Loki. Come."
Laufey gestured. Odin gazed knowingly, smugly. The world as Loki knew it felt crumbled.
|
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Nov 24, 2013 21:25:53 GMT -5
Oblivious to Loki's irritation, his gaze wandered the garden as Loki spoke, focusing on nothing in particular. Soft snow, fragile ice, and winter's chilling breath were of very little interest to Thor. Though his gaze quickly swung back to Loki, suddenly more intrigued, as he delved into the more fascinating details of Jotunheim. He grinned, an expression that easily reached his eyes, and folded his arms lightly across his chest. Now that sounds more like it. It has been a long while since I have explored a new realm-- perhaps we should linger and see all that Jotunheim has to offer.
Thor said this with very little heart-- though his interest was piqued, he had only recently returned to Asgard from another journey and was loathe to venture away from it again so soon. Especially not when he was finally reunited with Sif. She still eluded him, but surely, given time, she would cave to his affections. His father was very aware of his fondness for Sif - he was not blind! - he could see his heart, and this is why Thor believed their presence in Jotunheim alone to be a facade.
His father would not betray him. He was not concerned.
Asgard has much to offer-- you will not be disappointed. He said, nodding as Loki gestured for them to return to the hall. I do not see the harm in that. Thor allowed himself to be led back into hall where many still remained gathered, some talking in low voices and others rambunctious and loud. Acknowledging the Warrior's Three and his brother Balder with a wave of his hand as they passed, Fandral grinned mischievously at him and winked, earning laughter from those around him.
Smiling and shaking his head, Thor accepted the glass of wine that was handed to him.
This will be the first I have ever had this beverage. He murmured to no one in particular, lifting the glass and taking a rather large gulp, quickly swallowing the liquid as Loki posed his question. Thor laughed, heartily. You flatter me, Loki, prince of Jotunheim, but I am afraid my brother, Balder, is the jewel of Asgard. Though Fandral is in fierce competition with him. He added, now taking a much more refined sip of the wine. There is not much to tell-- it is much better to see it for yourself.
This conversation was almost painful, but talking of Asgard made it bearable. Thor longed with in the company of Balder and the Warrior's Three. He was growing bored with these pleasantries, and tired of attending to such a frivolous obligation-- how much longer before his father took his leave from Laufey?
As if in answer to his question, they were both summoned to the throne.
Finally. Thor thought with some exasperation, approaching the throne with Loki.
He found the way his father looked upon them to be unsettling, but chose to ignore it, instead smiling widely. Is it time to leave already, father? He asked, turning to Laufey and bowing. It has been an honor, Laufey, and I am humbled to--
Silence, Thor, and listen. Odin interrupted, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence. Thor straightened, suddenly feeling ill at ease, numbing dread creeping through him. What is all this about? He asked, blue eyes darting suspiciously between Odin and Laufey, the knowing look they shared piercing through him with realization.
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Nov 26, 2013 22:24:46 GMT -5
The long walk down the great hall, with its dizzying, dazzling lights and throngs of increasingly inebriated royals was arduous. Loki loped alongside the AEsir, haboring humiliation and a honed hatred in his heart. For years, he had been raised to despise the Asgardians. His father had filled his ears with horrid stories of their bloody, savage conquests, of their lurid journeys through the universe ravaging and burning and laying waste to all which crossed their paths. Unopposed, Asgardians tore through world after world and ripped precious resources from the peoples who lay claim to them-- jewels, women, magickal treasures, fabled weapons, and sacred relics-- opposed, they left realms bleeding in their wake. Thus, to be saddled with such a bull-headed oaf now, to provide him such snivelling company. If this were not enough, Thor was positively dismissive of both Loki and Jotunheim. Loki wished only to be rid of the boy and quickly.
Shaldir was still watching Loki carefully, and as he passed, the elf held his arms in a futile, pathetic gesture, his eyes wide. No doubt he had witnessed Loki's proximity to Thor; his flame-colored eyes were wide with disbelief, darting from Loki's face to the slender hand that had found Thor's muscular forearm, and then back again. Clearing his throat, Shaldir pushed his way through the crowd to accost Loki even as he strode alongside Thor to approach the throne.
"My prince," he began, his voice a hushed, raspy whisper. "My prince, what is all this? Were we not enjoying ourselves? Let us make away again-- this hall has grown so crowded and--"
"Not now, you ridiculous fool!" he hissed. Rage, precariously tempered until now, erupted from Loki, and with a wave of magical energy, he shoved the elf violently so that he stumbled to his feet. But even as Loki swept away from him, he reached out for the prince, his lips parted in a pathetic whine.
Finally standing before his father, Loki began quickly, hoping to soothe his father's avarice with his honeyed words.
"Father, after a wondrous evening, I have decided--"
"Silence, boy."
Loki snapped his mouth shut again, lowering his eyes. His father continued with barely suppressed giddiness.
"The all-father and I have come to a fortuitous agreement. After many years of discord between our races, the time has come to heal such wide wounds with--" he paused for effect, his blue lips curling with amusement, "with a marriage. Although Balder has been promised to another AEsir -- such a pity-- the young Thor remains unattached. He, with all his strength and fortitude and glorious heritage, will be a fine match for you, Loki. You will marry him in no more than three moons. Your children will be heir to an unstoppable race, who will rule--" he stopped, looking at Odin and grinning wickedly again, "pardon me-- guide all nine realms. No one will be above them. Do you understand me, boy?"
"Father," Loki spat. "Father. You can't mean. I won't! I'll never--"
"This decision is final. Unless you require further convincing by my hand, boy."
"No... please, father..."
"Now. We shall not be ill hosts to our Asgardian friends. Go. Entertain your betrothed."
Unable to stand the shining, sickening lights of the great hall any longer, Loki tore down the nearest corridor, rounded the icy spiral staircase to his room, and released his rage upon anything and everything in his path.
|
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Nov 27, 2013 20:42:30 GMT -5
His heart hammering in his chest, Thor fell silent, his gaze shifting from Odin to Laufey, and back to Odin again as Laufey began to speak. The All-Father's expression was much more difficult to discern than that of the overly pleased ruler of Jotunheim, who seemed barely able to contain his exhilaration, but even Thor could see the glint of victory in his eyes.
Whatever the two kings, once enemies, had decided certainly did not bode well for him or the other princeling.
His eyes grew wide at the mention of marriage, and betrayal burned hotly in his chest. Anger seared his mind, his expression quickly twisting into something dark and primal. He opened his mouth to speak, his outrage ready to burst forth from his chest, but Odin silenced him with a single, sharp gesture of his hand. It was as if the very wind had been knocked from him, and he could only stare as his fate was decided for him.
It was not fair.
As Loki began to protest, so did Thor.
Is this all I am worth to you, father? You would sacrifice your own son's heart to further your own glory? I refuse! There is no way in hel--
Odin's face flushed with his own anger, and he raised his hand again, a loud, incoherent growl gruffly silencing Thor.
That is enough! I will suffer no more of your disrespect! This decision cannot be changed-- This is not for the glory of the All-Father, but the glory of Asgard - of Jotunheim! - joined together at last in a symbol of peace that will bring about balance throughout the nine realms. You should be honored to have been granted this opportunity!
His large hands balled into quivering fist, Thor's eyes took on a hard, desperate edge. But what of Lady Sif?! He demanded, pleadingly.
That is enough! You will spend the rest of this evening in the company of your betrothed! For in three moons time you will be joined together in marriage, and I will not tolerate another complaint from you, Thor.
Just then Loki tore away-- outside a loud peal of thunder rolled heavily through the clouds, and bright veins of lightning streaked just outside the icy windows. The hall rumbled as Thor tore a path through the thick crowd of inebriated royals, towards the large doors that led out of the hall and out of the palace. Volstagg, Hogun, Fandral, and Balder all stared, their eyes darting between each other with worry and a slight twinge of hesitating fear.
No one dared disturb Thor when in the throes of his anger.
He slammed through the doors, across the entry hall, and outside where he paced between two tall, frost covered pillars. Snow crunched thickly beneath his boots, which quickly tore a deep trench between the two pillars. Unable to control his overflowing rage, he swung his fist into one; it did little to alleviate his anger, and the pillar remained undamaged. That only infuriated him more-- even the palace was mocking him!
Surely there was some way out of this outrageous marriage...
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Dec 2, 2013 21:59:18 GMT -5
In Loki's wake, the icy banquet continued without disruption -- the royals were far too pleased with themselves to bother about the departed, disgruntled prince, and the Asgardians, though visibly irritated by Thor's antics, seemed somewhat accostumed to such wrathful scenes. Thus, the party continued uninterrupted with much clinking of silver goblets and exchanging of honeyed words. After a while, even Shaldir abandoned his efforts and slunk out of the ballroom, sure to skirt about the raging Thor, and disappearing into the plum-colored night.
In his chambers, however, Loki was livid. After entering his room, slamming the door so cold and heavy it was not unlike ice-encrusted ivory, he stormed bitterly about his bedroom, flinging his various belongings as he fumed. Passing through his space, Loki generated a chilly whirlwind of force, and he was like a terrible blizzard; his bookcase was cast with a resounding crash to the floor, books spilling from the shelves like precious innards. Every large window cracked and shattered. His papers and spellwork and most precious relics were exhumed and crushed, torn, or scattered into the unforgiving winds.
'Never!" he raged, a seething, passionate fury filling his heart. "I'll never marry that ridiculous brute. He is intellectually inferior. Culturally bereft. He is not the proper partner for me, and I'll not have it."
He knew inwardly that Laufey, blinded by his own avarice, would never agree to a separate arrangement. Long had Laufey lusted for Odin's crown, and this seemingly diplomatic arrangement appeared to all but guarantee success in such endeavors. But...
The freezing storm around Loki grew still as his clever mind worked and whittled out a plan like a masterful sculpture from marble. Magically righting his overturned bed, Loki sat thoughtfully upon its edge and rubbed his smooth chin.
Outside, the sky was torn open with blue fingers of lightening. Outside, Thor was raging with passionate vigor. Perhaps, perhaps he would not prove so useless after all.
Collecting himself, Loki approached the balcony to look down upon the snorting and groaning beast. Thor shouted into the snow and sent his fist at the very architecture of the castle, and with each punch, Loki felt the very firmament shudder.
"With his unmatched brawn and my intelligence, perhaps he and I might discover a way out of our predicament. After all, he is as miserable as I, and anything... anything would finally parting this stupid Asgardian's company once and for all."
With this, Loki transformed into a raven, leapt lightly from his balcony, and landed on a snowy heap beside Thor. Transforming once more, Loki watched Thor a while from behind a column.
/He could not be more of a fool. His kind are not accustomed to the sharp chill of Jotunheim, and yet here he is, blind and bitter. Deaf to all his brethren../
Loki snaked round the column after some time, approaching Thor with great, apprehensive care.
"I take it this arrangement does not please you," he began. "Or did you simply take it upon yourself to remodel our veranda?" He gestured at the now cracked columns of ice, which threatened to give way at any moment. "I have a proposition for you. A proposition that, if executed properly, could deliver us from this sham of a marriage. Ally yourself with me, and you may return to your... beloved at home. Ally yourself with me, and I swear I'll be content to marry whatever boring elf or dwarf or giantess that might have me. As long as I don't have to marry /you./"
|
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Dec 8, 2013 17:36:08 GMT -5
The ice finally began to crack beneath the weight of the rage that burned through him like a wildfire, shielding him from the bitter, biting cold of Jotunheim. His breath came in great gasps, billowing visibly before his face as it mixed with the icy air. Thor stared at the crack in the pillar for a moment, glaring, a scowl swiftly overtaking his lips. He swung his fist back, a growl growing in his throat, and swung it forward once more.
His thoughts were consumed with the injustice of it all. Odin might as well have run him through the heart with a sword, so deep was the sting of his betrayal. He never expected something like this to be within the realm of responsibilities he would have to bear as king-- an arranged marriage! Even after he had confided in his father with utmost trust.
Thor could not even begin to wrap his head around what the All-Father thought worthy of gaining from such a union.
Giving a start when Loki, the new bane of his existence, rounded the pillar, he quickly recovered, his hands curled into bulging fists.
It is not wise to be in my company right now. He growled through gritted teeth, stray strands of blonde hair blowing across his face as a breeze began to stir the air.
Impatient, seething with anger, he turned away to stride sharply back into the hall. What interest had he in anything Loki had to say? There was no salve that could sooth the raw edges of his anger or fill the hole left by the feelings of betrayal and abandonment that tore viciously into him. He took several steps, then stopped as Loki's words reached him.
For a few moments he stood there, silent and indecisive. Turning slowly, he regarded Loki with piercing blue eyes. And why should I trust you? The All-Father is a stubborn old fool who will not be easily swayed by the likes of a Frost Giant. Thor spoke bitterly, taking a step forward. I would give anything to be free of the scheme our fathers have woven between them, between us, but I have little faith that the fate that has been forced upon us can be broken.
Arms folding across the great expanse of his chest, he looked at Loki with earnest desperation. Tell me, Loki, son of Laufey, what it is you propose we do, for I need little more than a promise the end result will be in our favor.
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Dec 8, 2013 21:10:18 GMT -5
When Loki approached Thor, it was with great care and calculated intention. The snow beneath his well-booted feet crunched in weary whispers, and the violent winds which whipped around them-- a product of both Jotunheim's unforgiving climate and the unmitigated rage of the blustering Asgardian god-- barely lifted his long dark hair from his shoulders. There they stood, not inches away from other, nearly nose to nose, a angry golden-god and a sullen frost giant.
There were many magicks in the universe which Loki had already mastered, but perhaps it was the intricate spellwork of persuasion with which he was most talented. His own father called him "silver-tongued," and the young cook, Selvig, despite the good-natured brotherly bond the two shared, was forever tricked and troubled by Loki's ability to coax him into this and that predicament. Here and now would Loki put his powers of persuasion to the test. Thor was volatile, that much was true, but wielded appropriately, and he was just the weapon Loki needed.
"That is where you are wrong, Thor Odinson. Our fathers have much rotten history between them. War, pestilence, betrayal. There is more separating them than the tenuous alliance they wish to forge. And that begs the question: why? Why now? After all these centuries at one another's throats do they wish for peace, least of all through marriage?
"Thor, Though our fathers plot against us, though our parents seek to bond us in absolute misery, we need not follow heedlessly like pigs to slaughter. No. Don't you understand? Don't you see? My father and yours, they know that there exists powers far greater than they possess in this universe. They know that, in this enormous and endless battle for conquest in these nine realms, that there exist forces they could never fathom, forces that could level all of existence on one hand or bring utter salvation to the universe on the other. They know there are forces that can do what they could never do."
He paused to place one steadying hand on Thor's muscled forearm, his cool blue fingers sliding along his bicep to grip him firmly. His green gaze glimmered in the waning moonlight, smoldering with intense resolve.
"Those forces, Thor, those forces are you and I. Our fathers seek to live vicariously through our bond, to see us rule the universe side by side, to stand on our shoulders and call themselves tall. But we shan't allow it. What I propose is this. You and I will pretend to acquiesce to our fathers' desires. We shall re-enter that ballroom a happy couple, suddenly and desperately in love." He paused to gesture nonchalantly in the chilly air. "I will say that I... was enchanted by your rage, and you may truthfully admit that you were charmed by my stunning good-looks and... talented tongue.
"And then, while our parents plan this ridiculous sham of a wedding, while they toast their assured victory, we shall sow the seeds of discord once again. Start rumors, play tricks. With a few well-placed sleight of hands, we may drive a wedge between our parents and, let's face it, they aren't exactly the perfect picture of harmony in the first place, are they?"
His voice had become a low, choked whisper which hissed between his clenched teeth.
"Thor. We can do this. You and I. Together, we may elevate ourselves from this hellish arranged marriage. Say that you will join me. I promise... our alliance will be at once powerful and short-lived. Please. Powerful as I am, I cannot do this alone. I need... you."
He stood before Thor, still incredibly close to the man, so he could feel the warrior's incredible body heat. The sheer sinew of Thor's arm beneath Loki's blue fingers-- shaking with anticipation-- was admittedly glorious. An odd tethering sensation erupted from somewhere within Loki's being, and he was drawn closer to Thor invisibly, imperceptibly, as if by the hand of fate.
"What do you say, Thor? Son of Odin?"
|
|
|
Post by Thor Odinson on Dec 10, 2013 21:44:48 GMT -5
Impatient as he was with anger, burning and aching to be away from the weight thrusted unceremoniously upon his shoulders, he also painfully curious. Curious, and desperate to be relieved of the shackles of fate his father clapped him into. So he listened to Loki, unperturbed by their proximity, his eyes hard and steel blue staring into the Jotun's, and his expression fiercely blank.
There was undeniable truth to his words.
The desire for peace between their realms was an illusion-- not even the unity of marriage could wash the deep, dark, bloody stains that soaked their history red with hate and anger. Thor easily understood that. In the end, he was certain, a marriage between Asgard and Jotunheim would only end in more destruction and bloodshed. For that reason he had no faith in his father's vision. He could not place his hope in something that sowed the seeds of misery into the hearts of those it was meant to bring together.
Thor would do whatever it took to see to it that this appalling scheme of their fathers never saw fruition, and he had a hard time finding fault in what Loki offered him. It was dangerous, but the temptation was far greater, and he refused to stand idly by while his fate was sealed for him.
He would rise to action.
Aye. He said resolutely, his eyes catching the fire of Loki's resolve. Aye. I will join you. I wish for nothing more than for this to be over, and the sooner it is the better.
His arm shifted beneath Loki's fingers, a bewildering caress, as he raised it, holding out his hand. And may we never speak of it again afterwards.
Thor felt something shift within him, though it was lost to him in that same moment, and again, he could not help but admire Loki's elegant beauty-- he had not been wrong in that observation, for which he silently cursed him.
Shall we make our return? My father's face will be priceless. He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling with satisfied mirth.
|
|
|
Post by Loki Laufeyson on Dec 15, 2013 22:42:19 GMT -5
The taste of victory, as sweet and intoxicating as the richest and most potent of ice wines, swept over each inch of Loki's senses. He found himself reveling in the feeling, as he always did, inwardly congratulating himself on his own wicked wit, and he smiled widely at his counterpart. How wily he was! How cunning and quick! Not only would he and Thor extricate themselves from this abominable situation, but he was certain the two would engage in a fair amount of mischief as well. His heart leapt with unabashed joy. The tricks they would try, the mayhem they would unleash upon the throne, would go unchecked and unchallenged for an age. Beloved confusion and chaos would tear through each kingdom. But even this blessed promise was not the end to his happiness.
His hand, lingering on the god's brawny arm, tingled a bit at his contact with Thor, and despite the blistering cold, there was a burning between them, a wall of trembling heat, and Loki knew not why.
It is true that Thor is the very picture of godly beauty. Though his blond head is filled with straw, he is built like a heavenly barricade; all strength and ivory columns and hardened marble. If nothing else, he is... pleasurable to look upon. If I am to bring ruin upon my father's head, I may as well do so in the presence of a beautiful god. It is natural, perhaps, for my body to ache a little for him. How long has it been since I have been properly satiated? Too long. And yet there was a time when not an hour lapsed between my various, delicious lovers! Now, I am met with endless tedium, boring soul after boring soul, and I yearn for adventure, for chaos, for pleasure.
But alas! Alas! An AEsir! I would sooner make love to a golden-haired toad.
"Yes. Let us return to the banquet hall, Thor, son of Odin. Let us return and make mischief together."
His hand slid idly down the god's flesh-- as golden as the burning sun-- and then looped his own arm through Thor's more muscled one. This was but the beginning of a performance well-played, of an act rehearsed to perfection in the darkened theatre of his mind. How his foolish father would marvel at his good work! How he would revel in falsehood!
As he led the god into the banquet hall, Loki's resulting smile was nearly giddy with anticipation. His pale countenance was flushed, his laugh suddenly more robust, more lively than ever before, and his step was light and gay.
As soon as the two entered the hall, Loki could feel every eye turn upon them; thus, he went to engage Thor in some trifling conversation, pouring the god another liberal glass of ice wine and arranging a large pile of smoked meats and cheeses on a plate for his betrothed. He made certain not to stray but an inch from Thor's side, and he stroked Thor's arm lightly with one cool finger.
The surrounding royals were agog at this and immediately began to whisper amongst themselves. One portly woman edged near them, all the better to appraise the two, taking great pains to enjoy her enormous glass of brandy within earshot of them.
Yes, you ridiculous woman. You would do well to listen to every word I whisper to my beloved; listen and report handily to my father before the night's end. Loki could hardly contain his joy. Smiling wickedly, he continued his charade with increased vigor.
"--Oh, Thor, you beautiful brute you. How is it that you gods always know what to say, mm? In fact, I... I should think that you and I ought to explore Jotunheim together very soon, my lord. There are many sights that I think would please you, many riches hidden in these frozen hills. Though, you mustn't tell father I told you such things. He would have my head."
The woman was violently craning her neck to hear the whole conversation, and from the corner of his eye, Loki could see his father watching cooly from the throne.
"You are doing well, my son,"came his father's voice in his head. "The god is enchanted. Ensnare him thoroughly and the power of the AEsir will be ours soon enough."
"Yes, father."
As if on cue, the All-father had begun his sweeping approach. Having watched the two with a glimmer of approval in his eye, he came now like a powerful storm. When Odin was near, Loki felt the crushing, suffocating weight of his power, and he nearly cringed, but managed to simply swallow and avert his eyes. He kept his arm threaded through Thor's.
Lies gathered on his tongue. It was time to put on a spectacular show.
Loki bowed as deeply as he could while maintaining his grip upon Thor, and his coolly measured simper he knew was both sweet and unsuspecting.
"All-father. I must say that your son is a delight. I... hope that you can forgive me for my behavior earlier. I was overwhelmed with emotion." He paused to gaze lovingly upon Thor, his fingers gliding along the smooth flesh of his forearm and then entangling with the god's own fingers. "But... I could not be more pleased with such an arrangement. I think he and I will be very happy together. Isn't that right, my love?"
Squeezing Thor's hand in his perhaps a little harder than necessary, Loki watched the All-father's pleased expression from behind his long, black eyelashes. With one hand hidden behind his back, he brandished two fingers in the air, whispered under his breath, and magicked a few, wriggling blue worms into Odin's steaming meal, which awaited him at the head of the banquet table.
And so I shall sow the seeds of distrust, I will bring down the All-father and his sordid alliance with my own father, beginning with a few lowly worms...
|
|