Ficlet: Waiting for God (Thor/Vikings/Highlander)
Waiting For God
A Vikings, Highlander, Thor Crossover
Summary: In which the year is 2012 and the world is possibly ending. Floki couldn't be happier.
Kanwulf was stupid. Kanwulf had been stupid. All that trouble to find a rusty old axe when there were so much better, faster, ways to kill now. His knives, beautiful knives, had their place but a bullet from afar, or a powder in a drink... true they were not as honorable methods but people were so sqeamish-!
(Floki did not believe the axe had truly been a gift of the gods. This living-curse was, certainly, but the gods were not well known for handing out godly weapons to man.)
Ah, well, Floki watched the television, sipping the last of the mead he'd traded from the anchient priest, when his phone proceeded to ring, the tiny bells within it clanging. The image on his screen was shaky, it's picture as clear as a reflection in ripples, but there was Thor. Thor. Mjolnir was unmistakable.
(And where were the angels that brought vengeance, or the demons out of their muspel-hells? Nothing but gods and mortals and those mindless rampaging maggots spawned of Ymir's rotting flesh.)
He felt positively gleeful as his long fingers wrapped around the handle and raised the speaking device to his lips. "Helga." He purred.
"Isn't it marvelous?" His Helga, his Wife, his Teacher, giggled. She was inebriated, of that he was sure. Just what Helga had been imbibing was up for debate, though he would have liked to share. "Ragnarok at last!"
"Aye." He listened to her happiness, and heard a second girlish voice chirp in the background. He watched as the green creature -troll, or giant, it was hard to see clearly with such distance between camera and subjects- punch Thor in the side and send him reeling. Ha! "Is Angrboda with you?"
"Mmm." His Helga hummed. "I have heard that Thor was not the only god at the battle. It is, whispered, that Loki opened the doorway for those... creatures."
Floki slipped a knife from where he had hidden it in his couch and began twisting it between and around his fingers. Knives, and little axes, guns and harsh choking powders he kept hidden all around his home. "And the Presidents and Kings would not want to worry the poor, poor people. That all his not harmonious in the heavens. They will not say it. Not yet. Cowards."
"Your daughter and I are making pilgrimage to Uppsala."
"Tch." Floki scoffed. "It is all grown up. Why go?"
"Gamla Uppsala, father." His beautiful, twice-cursed daughter said, the rustle of their phone changing hands coming through clear. "I have already called Athelstan. He is coming, and Snorri as well. Please say you will come. And bring the goats!"
"For you, my daughter."
Floki laughed. His high, short barks cutting through the silence as the screen continued to show a battle that spoke to his bones. Uppsala, where the worlds thinned and the gods walked among freely among man. Ragnarok, and with it the end of the curse. Battle! The gift of their deaths.
---
Slowly, unusally, the cells all around him had been filling with battle-captives over the past few weeks. Rebels and raiders alike had been pushed in by the dozens and Loki had been faintly amused at the effort to avoid placing prisoners within his own cell. Perhaps that had been Frigga's doing, or Odin feared Loki's tongue would cause even more trouble, that had prevented him from aquiring any, ah, 'bunk mates'.
Loki was therefore suprised when a group stopped before his gilded prison, one of them holding a thin, bloody knife, and all with an expectant look on their face. All with some form of weapon close at hand, several with the silvery swords Loki knew were only given to the palace guards as a mark of esteem and skill. There were men and women in the huddle, and their clothing was a motley mix of what he had seen on common folk of Midgard and something - older. A single girl-child with old, old eyes grinned toothily at him.
Had Odin let mad mortals into Asgard to gawk at the fallen Prince, to further humiliate him-?
"Hello, god." A man with khol around his eyes greeted, pointing the bloodied golden bracer of Loki's jailer at the cell. He passed his hand over a rune, and the energy field melted away. Without it blocking the way he could feel them, like a storm pressing aginst his skin.
End.
Notes:
So, I had a thought that it would be cool if Floki was Immortal. Then it snowballed into Floki being immortal would meet Marvel!Loki, and either be appalud or overjoyed at such a thing. Also, the trials of keeping your faith when Immortal. Floki is very happy the world is ending.
Then, I had a thought that if Highlander could have one Viking immortal why not more? And why don't they keep in touch, all a little ashamed of how their descendants have converted and abandoned the Aesir and that it is no wonder the Aesir have abandoned them in turn. And, maybe, just maybe, an alien invasion happens and suddenly it is party time for the Immortal Norsemen because it is Ragnarok bitches and time to party.
Also, with Floki's kid, it is my headcannon that Immortals CAN have kids. Only, they can only reproduce when in their pre-Immortal state, and since having sex does not garuntee pregnancy the likely hood of them having kids and knowing it is THEIR kid is very low. And then they go immortal, can no longer have childrens, and another immortal shows up saying it is impossible, period, throwing the idea that previous children are theirs into question and shinanigans ensue.
Of course any pre-Immortal ladies know the truth, they had to pop out the brats, either no one believes them or they keep it to themselves, giving the child up for adoption either because having kids out of wedlock was a no-no or because they don't want their husband/lover to maybe one day show back up and try to take the kid's head.
A Vikings, Highlander, Thor Crossover
Summary: In which the year is 2012 and the world is possibly ending. Floki couldn't be happier.
Kanwulf was stupid. Kanwulf had been stupid. All that trouble to find a rusty old axe when there were so much better, faster, ways to kill now. His knives, beautiful knives, had their place but a bullet from afar, or a powder in a drink... true they were not as honorable methods but people were so sqeamish-!
(Floki did not believe the axe had truly been a gift of the gods. This living-curse was, certainly, but the gods were not well known for handing out godly weapons to man.)
Ah, well, Floki watched the television, sipping the last of the mead he'd traded from the anchient priest, when his phone proceeded to ring, the tiny bells within it clanging. The image on his screen was shaky, it's picture as clear as a reflection in ripples, but there was Thor. Thor. Mjolnir was unmistakable.
(And where were the angels that brought vengeance, or the demons out of their muspel-hells? Nothing but gods and mortals and those mindless rampaging maggots spawned of Ymir's rotting flesh.)
He felt positively gleeful as his long fingers wrapped around the handle and raised the speaking device to his lips. "Helga." He purred.
"Isn't it marvelous?" His Helga, his Wife, his Teacher, giggled. She was inebriated, of that he was sure. Just what Helga had been imbibing was up for debate, though he would have liked to share. "Ragnarok at last!"
"Aye." He listened to her happiness, and heard a second girlish voice chirp in the background. He watched as the green creature -troll, or giant, it was hard to see clearly with such distance between camera and subjects- punch Thor in the side and send him reeling. Ha! "Is Angrboda with you?"
"Mmm." His Helga hummed. "I have heard that Thor was not the only god at the battle. It is, whispered, that Loki opened the doorway for those... creatures."
Floki slipped a knife from where he had hidden it in his couch and began twisting it between and around his fingers. Knives, and little axes, guns and harsh choking powders he kept hidden all around his home. "And the Presidents and Kings would not want to worry the poor, poor people. That all his not harmonious in the heavens. They will not say it. Not yet. Cowards."
"Your daughter and I are making pilgrimage to Uppsala."
"Tch." Floki scoffed. "It is all grown up. Why go?"
"Gamla Uppsala, father." His beautiful, twice-cursed daughter said, the rustle of their phone changing hands coming through clear. "I have already called Athelstan. He is coming, and Snorri as well. Please say you will come. And bring the goats!"
"For you, my daughter."
Floki laughed. His high, short barks cutting through the silence as the screen continued to show a battle that spoke to his bones. Uppsala, where the worlds thinned and the gods walked among freely among man. Ragnarok, and with it the end of the curse. Battle! The gift of their deaths.
---
Slowly, unusally, the cells all around him had been filling with battle-captives over the past few weeks. Rebels and raiders alike had been pushed in by the dozens and Loki had been faintly amused at the effort to avoid placing prisoners within his own cell. Perhaps that had been Frigga's doing, or Odin feared Loki's tongue would cause even more trouble, that had prevented him from aquiring any, ah, 'bunk mates'.
Loki was therefore suprised when a group stopped before his gilded prison, one of them holding a thin, bloody knife, and all with an expectant look on their face. All with some form of weapon close at hand, several with the silvery swords Loki knew were only given to the palace guards as a mark of esteem and skill. There were men and women in the huddle, and their clothing was a motley mix of what he had seen on common folk of Midgard and something - older. A single girl-child with old, old eyes grinned toothily at him.
Had Odin let mad mortals into Asgard to gawk at the fallen Prince, to further humiliate him-?
"Hello, god." A man with khol around his eyes greeted, pointing the bloodied golden bracer of Loki's jailer at the cell. He passed his hand over a rune, and the energy field melted away. Without it blocking the way he could feel them, like a storm pressing aginst his skin.
End.
Notes:
So, I had a thought that it would be cool if Floki was Immortal. Then it snowballed into Floki being immortal would meet Marvel!Loki, and either be appalud or overjoyed at such a thing. Also, the trials of keeping your faith when Immortal. Floki is very happy the world is ending.
Then, I had a thought that if Highlander could have one Viking immortal why not more? And why don't they keep in touch, all a little ashamed of how their descendants have converted and abandoned the Aesir and that it is no wonder the Aesir have abandoned them in turn. And, maybe, just maybe, an alien invasion happens and suddenly it is party time for the Immortal Norsemen because it is Ragnarok bitches and time to party.
Also, with Floki's kid, it is my headcannon that Immortals CAN have kids. Only, they can only reproduce when in their pre-Immortal state, and since having sex does not garuntee pregnancy the likely hood of them having kids and knowing it is THEIR kid is very low. And then they go immortal, can no longer have childrens, and another immortal shows up saying it is impossible, period, throwing the idea that previous children are theirs into question and shinanigans ensue.
Of course any pre-Immortal ladies know the truth, they had to pop out the brats, either no one believes them or they keep it to themselves, giving the child up for adoption either because having kids out of wedlock was a no-no or because they don't want their husband/lover to maybe one day show back up and try to take the kid's head.