He was back in here again in one of the those cells which could be found in the deepest part of the dungeons. It was nothing new really whenever the oh, so great and wise All-Father did not know how to deal with him he was either locked up in his chambers or in the cell, quite pathetic from a being calling himself all-knowing.
Though he knew the truth...
He saw it clearly…
Since the first birth of the Nine Worlds when his beloved elder brother Ymer was cruelly slain, he remembers it now for the Norns hold his memories sealed in each passed life till a certain time when that seal is broken. So he remembers now, his past joys and sorrows of five times past…Odin did not change, of course he remembers now to, usually even sooner then him, but he still repeats the same mistakes, some even in much crueller ways. No matter how much he had teached him or had shown him kindness, he and Ymir had welcomed the three brothers inside the void of Ginnungagap only for them to betray them and form the worlds from his brother. The memories cut into him like burning knives and each weapon with which he had been tortured during each of his lives, his past hate which had been fostered towards the Jötnar had since long faded for he had been never anything else then one of them and now he knew that soon he would be home again, trying to heal at least his physical scars – for those on his soul would never be able to heal -, till the last stanca of the edda is to be heard again, but this time for the last time.
He wondered how Thor’s dear human friends the Avengers and his precious Lady Jane would react to know that the soil of the worlds had once been flesh, the vast oceans precious blood which connects back to him, the hills which reach towards the skies breakable bones, the trees which create air one can breath and change with the seasons being formed from hair he used to brush in the evenings, the clouds some tend to gaze upon the clear blue sky had once been holders of a wise mind, the heavens some seek a skull to which a lovely face belonged or that their world had been formed by eyebrows? Looking back on it, he certainly would like to see their reactions, would they justify the murder for creating the world they now live in? Or would they be disgusted that their home is nothing else behind the lovely facade then the remains of a slain corpse which was torn apart by its murderers?
Maybe the next time he visits Midgard he might give some hints in his usual way after all he had in the past inspired several men and women on their paths, such men like Horatio, Aristotle, DaVinchi, Poe, Goethe, Mozart and several others had been close friends to him and saw him for some of their works as a muse. He still enjoyed reading Faust where he plaid the inspiration for Mephistopheles, it was a lovely read and rather amusing, he still had the original dedicated to him, kept safe from time by his magic.
He remembers how in his second life he had teached Odin the usage of seidr for he had ruled over all, the magic being part of his very being, collecting in him as the source of all magic just like the Gems of Power which he had himself forged in the stone halls of the dwarves of Niðavellir. This had been the ground why he was able to resurface from time-to-time in his severely tortured, abused and defiled state from the influence of the Mind Gem, even after millennia it reorganised its creator just like the Space Gem did whom most now call the Tessaract. With this he could manipulate things in Midgard’s favour and protect his precious child trapped on this world from harm through Thanos’s cruelty, he could even place a weak rune on those he was forced to enthralle. He wondered idly how Agent Barton will take it when the rune becomes visible as it fades in about a moths time, it was a rune even the mighty Thor will recogrinaise as the rune for protection. Too bad that he will not be able to see the man’s expression, but oh well he might see it when he visits him again, though Urd might do it sooner for while Thor’s memories can wait the Hawk needs to remember and decide. He won’t like the thought that there was a long past between them, though again it will be up to him if he accepts his role as the Seal of Ragnarök which shall be broken by the hand of an Asgardian and to guard Loki as a God or stay mortal and die a natural death in old age as he did in his past lives through the protection he had given him.
It will certainly be an interesting chat when they meet again.
Sighing his mind drifted over all that he had seen, done, experienced and suffered through, he knew that Ragnarök was nearing the more he was broken. It made him wonder if Odin also knew that not only would neither Loki nor his Seal raise again when the Twilight of the Gods ends this time, but that also Odin and his family will stay dead, but while him and his Seal will rest in the warm embrace of Yggdrasil’s hearth, in eternal peace and warmth will they be bound by her mighty roots as Niðhǫggr drips his poison mercilessly into their faces only for the burned flesh to bind itself in the night so that the process may start again. No, they don’t need to be informed about the punishment for their crimes, enough time had passed for them to take the binds from their eyes, Odin preferred his role as a fool who leads a realm of the blind. Leaning his back against the cold wall he gazed at the small window sealed by Odin’s runes to prevent him from leaving before he decided to be ‘merciful’ how kind of his brother to do such, he was now clearly seeing from where Thor got this aspect to him, he won’t even mention the others of the brood, Baldr had been the tamest of them, but there was no changing his fate brought upon him by Frigga’s naivety that she could cheat the Norns and Death herself. So she needed to suffer the same pain which had been placed mercilessly on his shoulders…
…the pain of a mother whose child had been robbed from their arms…
The proud queen was shown one of the consequences of her shortcomings and would have been sparred from the same fate as her husband and sons if she would have learned from her mistakes, but she did not. She did not stop Odin from placing that cruel fate on his two youngest sons Vali and Navi, she allowed two innocent children to suffer. Her who was called upon by those giving birth, - just like his fourth incarnation had once been -, had let him on his own by the two times he gave birth and did not protect the children whom she should have considered her kin if she dares to call him her beloved child no matter his ancestry! Foolish woman, hiding behind the mask of gentle loving, but her love is not unconditional and does not go out to all around her to whom it should and she falsely proclaims.
She was one of the Vanir race, but still had not realised just how unique his children born from cruel rape had been…
He remembered the first time gazing upon his back then small foal Sleipnir, as he attempted to stand up on eight shaky legs, his playful neighs as he encouraged him to do the same so that they could play and race through the meadows surrounding the cave where he had given birth to him. Whenever he gazed at his son it was as if he was looking at the wind, wild, untamed and free, rushing through the lands, reaching all corners of the Nine Realms. Odin may think that he can restrain his son, but he is a fool, his son’s spirit was one with the wind which could be never fully ruled and mostly not by force, it was present everywhere. Running through the meadows, playing tag with the leaves, exploring the deepest valleys and the highest mountain peaks, rushed over the oceans, it could be a gentle caress or a harsh shove, always there around you.
The All-Father threw his second born into the seas of Midgard, how foolish to do such a deed for Jorry had always been like water. When he was born he had curled up beside his face, small head resting on his throat. His son was in much like the waters formed from Ymir’s life blood, winding like the streams and rivers and just as pure in his shy nature, but also wise as the seas are deep and keeping his findings a secret till the calm mirror like surface is stirred up by angry waves and he lashes out at those causing harm to all of whom he cherishes. Odin thought that he could bind his third-born by chaining him down. His sweet little cub who used to whine whenever he was out of his sight when he had been still little, Fenrir was much like the earth itself, strong and stand fast in his decisions if not stubborn for the earth is often unmoving. He was also fiercely loyal to those he choose to give his trust and guard over them like the mountains which stand mighty and protective on the place where the bones of Ymir had been stuck into the ground. His dear blood brother had also made a terrible mistake in setting his lovely little Princess on the throne of the Lowest World, for when she had been born he saw both Life and Death stand at his bedside, choosing her as their agent on the plain of the living just like he had been once chosen by Chaos.
Yes, Odin remembers and he had seen what this life-time had brought them, but he is still doing his mistakes as does Thor who sadly never learned just how manipulative his beloved father truly was. Though when he finally realizes it might be that the time of the end has come again and this time there will be no chance for redemption as will be there no forgiveness for the foolish Queen blinded by her own self-proclaimed love.
Odin was no All-Father, he was merely a Fool leading a world of the blind into an end stained with betrayal, tears and blood...
...while those tortured and banished shall finaly find peace...