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Tethered and Broken

Chapter Text

“How is he faring, All-Father?”

“He will recover in time. We must exercise patience.”

Odin’s hand hovered hesitantly over the small boy’s face, moving a strand of dark hair away from his closed eyes. The boy laid in a large bed, its overflowing purple sheets cradling him as he slept. Odin remained seated by his side, the golden canopies casting shadows over their bodies by the firelight along the stone walls.

“It is not often that an angel of Heaven frequents this realm. What is your purpose here? Be quick in your answer.”

“If I am to be honest, I was not aware that such a realm existed until I was sent here,” the angel replied. “I have only ever known my Father’s kingdom and its reign over Earth.”

“I see.” Odin’s gazed moved from the boy to meet the angel’s eyes, its strength commanding attention; certainly that of a king. “Would my assumption be deserved if I were to think that the purpose of your visit was not known to you?”

The angel considered him for a moment before answering. “Indeed, it would.”

Odin nodded, looking back down at the boy. “It would not be a stretch of the imagination to gather that your visit coincided with my son’s peril.”

The angel stiffened, his head lifting fractionally. “My Father would not purposefully harm those of such innocence.”

Odin raised his head once more. “Do not mistake my meaning. It was my son’s choice to leave the city without permission. I was not implying that your Father caused the rockslide that sealed him in the Cave of Time, therefore placing his life in danger. Rather, He foresaw that the destinies of the angels and Asgardians would entwine.”

“You deem that I will be of importance in the future, in regards to both Heaven and Asgard,” the angel stated, his tone turned quiet.

“Essentially, yes. It was not by chance that you came here, Castiel of Heaven.” Odin caressed the boy’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Perhaps your fate and the fate of my son are fastened.”

“Perhaps,” Castiel agreed, glancing down at the polished, marble floors. Odin stood up from the bed and stepped over to Castiel, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Do not question your worthiness. You are a loyal and brave warrior, and I am in your debt.” Odin’s face was impassive, but his eyes blazed with emotion. “Loki would not have survived, I fear, if not for your courage.”

“I did only what was right.”

“Many would not have the heart to do so.” Odin led Castiel to where the boy called Loki laid, his voice softer. “When he wakes, he will want to thank you. Many tales will be told, stretching far across the Nine Realms, of how Castiel of Heaven selflessly aided the Son of Odin in battle. Of how he saved the life of Loki.”

“I do not deserve such praise, All-Father,” Castiel interjected, staring at him intently.

“Do not belittle your actions,” Odin responded, his eyes remaining focused on Loki.

“That was not my intention. I simply do not wish...” Castiel trailed off, stepping closer to the bed. He felt the need to be closer to the boy, gravity seeming to pull him forward. He rested his hand on the pillow beside Loki’s head, his voice feeling strained as he proceeded. “I have the ability to remove memories. I do not wish for the boy to remember me.”

Odin glanced at him, regarding his wish. “State your reason.”

“I...feel as though it will only cause you and your house further distress. No doubt Loki would seek me out, when he would not be ready to venture into the realm you call Midgard. His brother would be curious as well, I assume.”

A faint smile crossed Odin’s face. “You assume correct.” He paused, glancing over Castiel’s form. “You must accept some form of reparation, in a gesture of my gratitude.”

“I had thought of an alliance between Heaven and Asgard. An enduring peace, and a duty of my own to raise arms if Asgard finds itself in peril.”

“And what if Heaven is in midst of peril?”

“I do not think some of my brethren would take kindly towards those who are deemed gods; they do not know of any other realms beyond our Father’s.”

“Then, when you deem it suitable, seek us out,” Odin insisted. “You will always find assistance in Asgard.”

Castiel nodded. “Thank you, All-Father.” He looked back down at Loki, the boy unknowing of the events transpiring around him as he dreamed. “Only with your permission, Odin King.”

“Proceed,” he approved, watching silently as Castiel place two fingers upon Loki’s forehead. A few seconds passed before Castiel withdrew his hand, turning to face Odin.

“It is done.”

“Then make your leave, Castiel of Heaven, before he wakes.” He placed his hand upon the angel’s shoulder once more. “Take care, and be sure to remember that you are welcome here at Asgard, if you find it acceptable to return.”   

“I will.” With one last glance at Loki’s sleeping form, Castiel then disappeared from the House of Odin.

Chapter Text

The quiet shuffle of footsteps approached him from behind as Odin stared out across Asgard from his balcony, the realm’s moon illuminating the various architecture of the palace. The footsteps paused, and a smile briefly crossed his lips.

“Stand by my side, Loki,” he ordered without turning his head, his voice soft. His youngest son approached silently, admiring the expanse of stars above their heads as he stopped beside Odin.

“Where have your dreams traveled this night?”

“It is the same dream, father,” Loki answered, continuing to stare at the sky. “The man made of stars swallows me in darkness, until I find myself soaring over the city itself. I do not know what it means.”

“Nor do I, and yet you insist on telling me of this dream with its every occurrence. Something is troubling you.”

“If even the All-Father knows not of its significance, should I not be entitled to some form of wariness?” Loki quipped. Odin looked down to his son.

“I may be wise, but I am not omniscient,” he returned. Loki looked down at his feet, swallowing.

“I apologize, father.”

“Your anger is justified.”

“That is not what ails me, father,” Loki stated, staring up at Odin. “This dream brings me the utmost peace, and that is precisely why it vexes me so.”

“Do you feel undeserving of this peace?”

“No, that is not the reason.”

“Then what is?”

Loki’s reserve began to falter, his eyes moistening. “At times, I do not wish to wake.” Odin regarded the trembling form of his son before Loki turned away from him. “When I do, I feel an indescribable emptiness, unknown to the measure of commonplace emotion. Do you understand what I say to you?”

Odin thought briefly of the angel of Heaven. “I do.”

Loki’s sharp laugh was piercing, the strangled emotions attempting to break his wall of control. “So you claim.”

“Hear me, Loki,” Odin replied. Loki turned to face him, fists clenched. “I do not play at knowing the loss you feel, but I recognize your pain to be real. I yearn to discover what would be a suitable comfort for you. However, if it is as vivid and unique as you claim, I fear that I never will.”

Loki sighed, his body relaxing. “Father...”

“Search your dreams, Loki,” Odin urged. He was not sure of how strong the angel’s powers were, and he knew that he should take every precaution to protect his son. But to see such pain in his eyes....Odin rested his hopes on the idea that if Loki did remember Castiel, the memory would remain faded. “They are doorways of your mind, and of your heart.” He placed his hand on his son’s cheek. “Seek that which is missing, so that you may fill that emptiness with peace.”

Loki nodded, his eyes brightening. “Thank you, Father.”

He left Odin on the balcony and traversed through the palace until he reached his room. As he tucked into the comforting, purple sheets, Loki dreamt of the man made of stars, who flew with him over Asgard, his wings matching the blackest of nights.  

Chapter Text

He had been here before. Fear, an intangible thing, filled his lungs with every inhale of chilled air. He was alone, the haze created out of misguided intentions and broken pride seeping into his every pore. Surely, he would die here.

There came a swift rush of wind, and a man appeared. His body was an encompassment of all the stars of the Nine Realms, and with every graceful stroke of a sword, he destroyed the thick haze, until his darkness consumed all. But wariness was baseless; the darkness, assumed to bring about the callous touch of death, instead carried the lightness of serenity.

Then, he was flying.

They soared over the plains of Asgard, and across the city, the wind as soft as a mother’s caress. The man’s wings, as dark as they were beautiful, extended far beyond his eye’s reach. He felt at peace within this man’s presence. A breadth of warmth swept within him as he sensed a pull, with a strength that of the planets, bring him ever closer into the darkness, the stars like beacons of safety.

A sudden shift disrupted the harmony, and panic began to rage in his mind. This wasn’t the purposed course of action. The man should have taken him into the palace, where his father awaited him. Instead, he flew higher and higher, his black wings splitting the clouds as they neared a mountaintop.

The man set him down upon the grass and stepped back, and he feared that the man would take his leave and abandon him; the thought of which scorched his chest.

“Loki of Asgard.”

He recoiled, desperately searching for caution within himself. Yet, he could not create false concerns when knew the man’s intentions to be pure.

“You know of my identity, so speak. Tell me of your intentions,” Loki commanded, standing up to face the man.

“I fear for your well-being.”

Loki stepped forward. “Explain.”

“There is a matter of which is troubling you. I sense those doubts will be an inevitable factor in your downfall.”

“Downfall? What are the foundations for your claims?”

“The only support I can offer is what I have felt. I am unsure of their origins.”

“You state that you are able to sense the inner workings of my soul, yet you do not know how to interpret your own.” Loki stepped forward again, his body moving under the arch of the man’s wings. The pull increased in strength. “This is a dream.”

“Yes.”

“It varies from those I have had since I was a child. Why the sudden refinement?”

“Because something has changed within you. Dreams are reflective of your heart’s desires, Loki.” The man’s deep voice echoed in Loki’s head.

“Then how is it that you have not frequented them outside of this one?” The man stepped back, and Loki’s jaw clenched, the edges of emptiness beginning to fray his mind. “I do not claim to understand why, but when I wake from this dream, I feel at a loss. Many times I wish not to wake.”

“It is dangerous to dwell on these thoughts.”

“Then explain to me how, when you visit my dreams, I feel at peace.”

“You find solace within your mind when you cannot find it in your family.” Loki blinked, his gaze unfocused as he stared into the expanse of stars before him.

“How do you know this?”

“I am a part of you, Loki.”

“How am I to be certain that you do not exist outside of my dreams?”

The man paused, and his wings seemed to close in around them.

“I cannot answer that.”

Loki sensed the feeling of disembodiment that occurred whenever the man had departed from him in the past.

“Please, do not leave me. Not yet,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. The man hesitated, his dark wings moving in time with his breathing.

“I have done what needed to be done; I have insisted that you exercise caution. I must go.”

“If you are a part of me, as you say,” Loki began, bending his head. “Then you know of my reliance on these dreams.”

The man extended his arm to rest on Loki’s shoulder. Loki relaxed under his touch, the emptiness ebbing away in waves of tranquility.

“That is precisely why I must go,” he finally said. “You can achieve great things, Odinson, and your mind no longer needs occupancy of a child’s fantasy.”

Loki’s body slumped, his eyes hung with fatigue, and he felt the darkness swallow him until there was nothing but the faint sound of wings against the wind...

His eyes opened to the sight of moonlight casting shadows into his chamber, the night’s chill nipping at his sweat-clad skin. Although his body felt weary, Loki did not return to sleep. Instead, he merely watched the sky gradually brighten with the approaching hour of dawn, witnessing the birds soar from the tops of the garden trees, their wings catching the breeze as they flew.       

 

 

Chapter Text

“What ails you, brother?”

Loki stepped in time with Thor as they made their way under a grand, marble arch, walking down a set of steps and into the courtyard. Loki observed the birds flying overhead.

“I have had no dreams, as of late,” he answered quietly, tucking his hands behind his back. He could feel his brother’s gaze upon him, but he did not look away from the sky.

“Is that what has been the matter?” Thor questioned. “You should be rejoicing, brother, for you will no longer be haunted by those nightmares.”

Loki never explained his dreams of the man made of stars to Thor, but disguised them as terrors; for how could such a pleasant dream have contrary affects when one woke?

“Indeed. And yet, I feel a certain deprivation.”

“Do not burden yourself with worry. You will dream again soon enough. For now, you can surely enjoy the rest that comes with such peaceful and uninterrupted slumber.”

Loki looked down to the ground. There was nothing peaceful about the cold expanse of darkness that accompanied dreamless nights; the nights that embodied the sole definition of emptiness. However, the intensity of the chasm inside him had decreased with each passing night. Perhaps is was indeed favorable to not dream, until the man made of stars was a forgotten memory.

“I suppose you are correct, brother,” Loki agreed. Thor laughed beside him, causing him to look up.

“Is it possible that Loki of Asgard has just deemed his brother’s opinion fitting above his own?”

Loki smiled at Thor, endearment soothing the dull ache of emptiness inside him.

“Do not become too accustomed to the gesture,” he joked, and Thor laughed once more, clapping Loki’s back with a strong hand.

“I am glad to see you in an improved mood, brother. I long to see it at my coronation.”

“Of course. It has been a long time in coming, has it not?”

“Indeed. Now it is in less than a fortnight.” Thor sighed, stopping next to a large fountain, the crystal blue water streaming down the sculptured pools and into the base.

The color of the water attracted Loki’s attention, and he stared into its depths as if it would pull him under. Why did he find it so familiar? As he neared the edge, he wondered how long he would be able to remain submerged in the blue; would it numb or soothe him?

“Whoa, brother!” Thor’s arm wrapped around Loki’s chest, bringing him away from the fountain. “It looked to me as if you intended to plunge into the water. I do not think the groundskeeper would appreciate that,” he laughed, and Loki laughed with him, the unsettled feeling inside him fading.

“Come. Let us make our way to the dining hall. I feel famished.”

Chapter Text

“Uh, Cas? You doing okay, there? You’re not lookin’ so good.” Dean reached out his hand to steady the angel. Castiel gripped Dean’s jacket, his other hand resting over his own chest. A dull ache resided there; painful as it was deep.

“I feel...a certain pain in my chest.” Cas looked up into Dean’s eyes. “Something I have not felt before.” Dean frowned, lowering him down onto one of Bobby’s dusty, old couches.

“Can angels have heart attacks?” He asked, his hands resting on the angel’s shoulders. Castiel felt a sense of grounding within the contact, as Dean’s presence often afforded him, but the ache continued to pulse deep within his core.

“It is not so superficial or...human,” Castiel answered, his fingertips digging into his chest. He recognized this as the pain echoed throughout his Grace, leaving emptiness as a residue with each tremble. No, it was certainly of no concern to his vessel, but neither was it to Heaven.

“Well, maybe your angel mojo is out of whack. Just, relax, okay? We can wait a while before you zap us back in time.” Dean’s grip tightened, and Castiel could feel his gaze upon him, but he could not look up from the floor. It seemed as if his mind was being stretched, his focus becoming hazy even as he attempted to steady himself. The floor before him swayed and warped, reality itself dissolving around him.

“Yes, that seems plausible,” the angel averted. He did not desire to alarm the Winchesters with what was occurring inside him; something of which he was still unsure of.

“Hey Dean, come look at this entry in Colt’s journal,” Sam called out from the next room. Dean looked over Cas, concern in his eyes, before leaving him alone on the couch.

Castiel’s vision continued to shift, the furniture and walls of Bobby’s house morphing into soft strokes of color. Dean and Sam’s voices turned from dull murmurs into silence, the ache engulfing Castiel’s senses. He looked within himself and searched his whole being for the source of the pain, frustration building until he felt a small twinge in his chest. Castiel focused his energies on inspecting it closer, the thing itself seeming to pulse with every wave of pain. It illuminated, a mass of intangible strength, its light set apart from that of his Grace. Castiel recognized it as a form of an ethereal tether, feeling wary as he attempted to open it up, even if it would give him some direction as to what or who he was connected to. In regards to that, he already had his suspicions.

Lightning seemed to strike through the angel’s body as he opened the connection, the tether securing itself firmly within his Grace. Too late, he realized, that it was what he had been trying to avoid for centuries, as images of a young Asgardian prince filtered through his memory.

“Loki,” he breathed, his vision spinning as the room around him transformed into what seemed like the inside of a fortress. Castiel scanned the room as familiarity washed over him, observing several artifacts displayed on various pillars of stone. He stepped up onto the main walkway of the vault in the House of Odin, catching a glimpse of a shadow pass by the lit torches near the entrance.

Castiel froze in place, his heart beating wildly in his chest. The prince was not supposed to see him again, the chances of remembering the angel too great. Yet, there he was, treading down the stairs and onto the walkway, his shoulders tense and his face afflicted with pained confusion.

“Loki,” Castiel whispered as the prince approached him. Loki simply passed by him, walking towards a cube-like artifact at the end of the hall. Castiel sighed, placing his hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat. “I am merely playing witness to these events,” he spoke aloud. “I am here in mind only.” He saw Loki hesitate to pick up the artifact, before finally doing so, his hands turning a faint blue at the contact.

“Stop!” A thunderous voice called from the entrance. Castiel turned his head to see Odin, emotion cracking through the king’s stoic visage.

“Am I cursed?” Loki questioned, his back still towards his father. Castiel felt his stomach drop. Odin had not told him of his parentage...

“No.”

“What am I?” The prince asked, setting the artifact back down on its pedestal.

“You’re my son,” Odin replied softly. Loki slowly turned around, his skin blue and eyes red. He quickly faded back to his usual appearance, leaning away from the artifact.

“What more than that?” Loki asked again, his tone turning harsh. Castiel watched as Loki began stepping down the walkway towards Odin, the pain in chest increasing. Loki’s face was emotionless, but his eyes showed otherwise. “The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”

Odin paused, his jaw working in thought. Loki stopped at the bottom of the set of stone steps where Odin stood.

“No,” he answered. “In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple, and I found a baby. Small, for a giant's offspring, abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.”

“Laufey’s son...” Loki repeated, glancing at the wall before returning his gaze on Odin. Castiel walked up beside the prince, as though by gravity, the pain heightening into a steady pulse inside his rib cage.

“Yes,” Odin spoke quietly. Loki’s gaze dropped as his eyes darted across the floor, his mouth moving with silent words. He lifted his head once again, his eyes moist.

“Why?” He asked, his voice strained. “You were knee-deep in jotunn blood. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child.”

“No, you took me for a purpose. What was it?” Loki argued, anger rising with each word. When Odin failed to respond, the ache shot through Castiel’s body, causing him to clench at his chest.

“Tell me!” Loki shouted, his face broken with pain and his eyes brimming with tears.

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace, through you.”

“What?” Loki whispered, his breathing ragged.

“But those plans no longer matter.” Loki’s face contorted with anguish, a few tears sliding down his pale cheeks.

“So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up, here, until you might have use of me?”

“Why do you twist my words?”

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?”

“You're my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.”

“What, because I - I am the monster who parents tell their children about at night?” Loki asked, his anger returning. Odin began to falter, his hand stretching behind him to lower himself down onto the stairs. Castiel sensed something inside Loki break, and he reached out for him, only to have his hand pass through the prince as though he were a spirit.

“No...no...” Odin whispered.

“You know it all makes sense, now, why you favored Thor all these years, because no matter how much you claimed to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!” Loki exclaimed, looking down at his father as he slipped into unconsciousness. “How much of my past have you hidden from me? How many of your claimed truths are no more than lies?” He demanded. Castiel watched the anger in Loki’s face diminish, replaced with worry when Odin did not respond. The angel stepped forward, but the tether inside him yanked, the world around him blurring and shifting once more.

The muffled sound of Loki’s voice echoed in Castiel’s head. “Guards! Guards, please help!”

“Loki...” The angel mumbled, falling into a spiral.

“Cas!”

The angel opened his eyes to see Dean and Sam peering over him, worry etched in their faces. Cas sat up from the floor, ignoring their protests, and glanced around Bobby’s living room. He saw Loki standing by a wooden desk across the room, his face solemn. Castiel stood up and marched over towards the desk, only to have the image disappear.

I am imagining him.

When Castiel had rescued Loki centuries ago, the angel feared he had created a bond that he could not fulfill. In an attempt to break the weak bond, if it had newly formed, Castiel erased the Asgardian prince’s memory.

It seems that the bond did not sever.

“Cas, are you alright, man?” Dean questioned, stepping up behind him. “You just grabbed your head and passed out on the floor.”

“A meditation technique,” Cas lied. “I was attempting to recharge my powers sufficiently in order to prepare my attempt at sending you into the past.”

Neither of the brothers seemed convinced, but Cas felt himself relax as Sam changed the subject.

“So...did you guys hear about those weird storms out in New Mexico? Think it could be related to Eve somehow?”

Castiel frowned. “I was not aware of any storms.”

“Yeah, well, there has been some weird activity within the clouds. Apparently, there were even sightings of things falling from the sky; some even say a man did. Nothing has been found, though.”

Castiel’s heart leapt into his throat, his fists clenching at his sides.

The Bifröst.

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean stated, shaking his head. “We’re about to hunt down some phoenix ash to kill that bitch. That’s our priority right now.”

“Dean is correct,” Castiel asserted. “We need not bother with trivial matters. Do not pursue it.” The brothers turned to frown at him, but Castiel kept his gaze steady.

“Whatever you say, Cas,” Dean replied curtly, staring him down before stalking out of the room. Castiel watched after him, and when he returned his gaze to Sam, an image of Loki was standing beside him, peering out the window. Castiel sought out the ethereal tether and pushed it deep inside himself, effectively reducing the ache to a dull twinge. The image of the Asgardian flickered, then disappeared.

“Cas...are you sure you’re alright?” Sam asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern. “You seem a little, I don’t know, shaken.”

“I’m fine,” Castiel stated, turning his head to stare out the window where the image of Loki had been looking. He saw nothing but a few birds flying in the breeze, chirping to celebrate the warm day.

Sam shrugged and stepped out of the room, leaving Castiel with his thoughts.

There are more important matters concerning this realm; I have my responsibilities. The Asgardians can secure their own disputes. I have no dealings with Loki any longer.

Although determined, Castiel’s confidence was lacking.