WHAT?!
I post Strength Within Weakness, and in the course of 4 days, I've gotten 4 reviews, 25 favs, 2 followers, and 463 views (including my own)!
OHMYGOODNESSTHANKSEVERYONE!
One of my most gracious reviewers, jlklai98 (you know who you are!) wanted me to type up a one-shot regarding Loki when he hears the news that his mother, Frigga, is dead (partly because of him).
That…was one of the saddest parts of the movie for me *sobs*
Anyhoo…*sniff, sniff*
I was already thinking about doing this as a one-shot…but y'all can thank jlklai98 for gettin' me motivated!
I don't own Thor, or Thor: the Dark World. I don't own Loki, Frigga, or any other character who will be appearing in this one-shot.
IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THOR: THE DARK WORLD, THEN PLEASE DON'T READ THIS. THIS STORY DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS.
"You might want to take the stairs to your left."
Loki stared the monster squarely in the eyes. For a moment, the Kursed held his gaze. Then it wavered, grunted, shook its head, and walked away from Loki's cell. It paused, looking back. Loki's face was unreadable.
After an eternity of five seconds, the Kursed turned to the left. It made its getaway.
Loki was reading one of the books which Frigga had supplied him with when he received the news. The guard had walked in slowly, and the said prisoner had not even noticed him. There were many guards always making their way to and fro down in the dungeon. What was one more guard?
It was the look of terror and sorrow, etched so plainly on the man's face, that caught Loki's attention.
Frigga hid a smile behind her hand. She could vaguely remember when she was Loki's age. She could remember her own frustration boiling within her when she couldn't master a spell in two tries.
"It's too hard, Mother!" the exasperated 7-year-old complained, letting his hands drop to his sides. Frigga had to hide another grin.
"Nothing is too hard for my sons," she said, leaning over and kissing the small boy on the head.
"The queen is dead."
That was it.
No bravado.
No great speech.
No explanation.
Loki waved the guard off. What else could he do?
"Aren't they beautiful?" the 10-year-old Loki breathed as he gazed skyward.
"They're like stars you can hold in your hands!" exclaimed the 12-year-old Thor. He was running to and fro, snatching at the elusive dots of light. He paused in his chase, turning to his mother with a confused expression.
"Why are they called lightning bugs?"
Frigga shrugged.
"Well," Thor said deliberately, "they should be called Shooting-Star-Bugs!"
Frigga smiled gently and shook her head. Loki leaned his head against her side.
Loki leaned back against the wall.
So this was truth.
His whole life shattered.
Everything he had ever felt a glimmer of emotion for…gone.
"I'm going to become the god of Thunder!" Thor smiled proudly at his small group of friends. "Father said so!"
"More like the god of the Big Mouth," Fandral murmured. Sif, hearing this phrase, turned towards the handsome god.
"And what does that make you: the god of Hand Mirrors?"
The five others in the room burst into laughter. Fandral turned bright red and muttered something inaudible.
"What about you, brother?" Thor aimed the question at the quiet, dark-haired man standing close to him.
"Well, he is full of tricks!" Volstagg commented. "Maybe he would be better off as the god of Mischief and Trickery!"
The others began to snicker. Loki considered this statement, and smirked.
"Maybe I will."
Hogun gulped down his chuckle. Thor, Sif, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun turned towards Loki. His grin was full of his usual mischievousness, but his eyes were unreadable.
There was a reason he had become the god of Mischief; of Lies.
Lies were gentle. Lies were velvety soft. One could manipulate lies so they would never hurt anyone. Lies were so much easier to believe.
But Truth…
"The others don't think I'll ever be great enough, or strong enough, to do anything."
Frigga's expression was one of concern and pity as the 15-year-old black-haired god sat down in front of her.
"Who said this?" she asked.
"Thor's friends," Loki replied.
"But not Thor himself?"
"No, not him. He stood up for me. He said I'd do something someday so everyone would know who I was, and then that would show them." Loki paused after he said this, his head bowed. When he looked back up at his mother, his eyes were full of worry.
"Will I ever be great, mother? Or were they telling the truth?"
"No, no; they were lying." Frigga pulled her son into a loving embrace.
Truth was hard.
Truth could destroy everything your life had been before you heard it.
He stood up slowly, placing the book he was reading on the floor. A blast of power shot through him, causing the furniture to slam against the walls of his cell.
It's your fault, Loki.
He tore off his jacket, casting it onto the floor. His face had a strained expression. He gritted his teeth together, trying to hold back the emotions welling within him.
There was a prison break. Any number of people (or things) could have killed her!
Next his boots, one a time. They left black streaks where they hit the pristine white wall.
There's only one prisoner you know for certain that could've gotten away.
Loki paced back and forth, clenching and unclenching his fists.
It wasn't his fault.
He didn't even know how she died, let alone who.
It wasn't his fault.
You know Frigga would do anything to protect that Foster girl. You know why that beast was here.
You know who killed her.
Loki had seen other prisoners lose their minds. He had watched, with some interest, as these unfortunate souls gave into whatever darkness had been gnawing away within them. They would slam themselves into anything physical; chairs, tables, the cell walls, even other prisoners (there was a reason there was usually only one prisoner per cell now). Often they would shout continuously and incoherently. In almost all of these cases, the poor creature would beg for death.
This had never happened to Loki, though. His lies, so cleverly constructed, anchored him securely to whatever shreds of sanity he still retained.
*CRASH!*
Loki sat straight up in bed. The thunder outside rumbled and roared. The small boy pulled his covers up near his face and glanced around. The heavy rainfall (to him) sounded like an everlasting army marching…marching…getting closer…
A jagged zig-zag of lightning light up his room for several seconds. Shadows danced eerily on the walls. Loki gasped and dove under the covers. After a moment or two, he cautiously lifted up his head. The rain was still pouring, but at least there wasn't any more –
*BOOM!*
Loki launched himself off the bed and ran to the door. He could hardly open it with his shaking hands. Finally, he slipped out and began running silently down the hallway. The cold tile floor didn't bother him, even if he could have felt the chill. His mind was full of one thought, and one thought alone.
"Get to Mother's room. I'll be safe in Mother's room."
The black-haired demi-god stood stock still. Pain, starting at his foot, rushed through him. He looked down, looking first at his bloody foot, then at the chair leg that he had stepped on.
It was the pain that released it.
Truth had breached his barriers.
Now the darkness had free reign to get out.
It's your fault.
Loki's scream cut into the relative quiet of the prison cell. He reeled back, still screaming.
All of his pent-up darkness and emotions, anger, hatred, rage, pain, confusion, envy…and sorrow.
For Frigga.
For Thor.
For his father.
For himself.
Loki opened the door a crack and peeped in. Odin was snoring. Frigga was sleeping next to her husband, a small smile on her lips.
"She must be dreaming about something nice," Loki thought, and he wondered how anyone could sleep with such a racket going on right next to their ear.
Loki crept silently to the side of the bed, and stood looking at his mother. He didn't even have to wake her up. Frigga's eyes opened; it was as if she knew he was there.
"Mother," Loki's voice was soft. "I'm scared. Can I sleep with you?"
Other prisoners were looking at him (or, at least, in the general direction of his cell). They were all obviously pleased that it wasn't them losing their minds. Losing their minds like that poor Asgardian prince.
Or was he gaining it back?
Loki had reached the wall by now. He slid onto the floor. Another shriek burst from his mouth.
You can't deny the truth forever. Admit it.
"IT'S MY FAULT!"
Over and over again these words somehow found their way into his screams.
"EVERYTHING! IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"
He yanked at his hair, almost pulling it out of his head.
At his moment, a roar of thunder shook the palace. A whimper escaped Loki's mouth. Frigga took one look at the small, frightened boy in front of her, and pulled back the covers invitingly.
"Come here, Loki."
Loki gratefully scrambled onto the bed. Frigga pulled him close, not minding how cold the demi-god's body had become. For a moment, there was silent. Frigga was just getting ready to go back to sleep when Loki spoke again.
"Please, Mother. Could you sing me a song? Something to drown the thunder out."
"Of course," Frigga smiled down at the boy next to her. "What shall I sing for you?"
The screams stopped as suddenly as they had started. Loki was still. His eyes were empty; he looked around him listlessly.
"Little one, close your eyes," Frigga's soothing voice broke into the boy's fears. To Loki, it was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard.
"Little one, don't be afraid,"
Loki's vision swam. His throat burned. But no tears came.
It had been too long since he had last cried.
"The darkness may separate us now,"
The black-haired prisoner turned slightly when he heard Thor's voice carry down the dungeon hallway. Loki glanced around at the chaos and mess surrounding him.
"…But I will guard you 'till light of day…"
As Thor came into sight, what the blond-haired god saw was a neat, orderly cell. His brother was watching him approach.
"…The world can fit in my palm…"
Loki didn't want his brother to see how he was capable of feeling.
He didn't want Thor to see the truth, which he felt was written all over his face and eyes.
Even though he felt that Thor probably knew already.
"…But to hold you, little one, I need both of my arms…"
Frigga looked down at the sleeping form next to her. Leaning over, she landed a soft kiss on the black head.
"Did she suffer?" He had to ask.
It wasn't his fault.
No matter how shallow or transparent his arguments might be, he was going to deny it till his dying breath.
He had to rebuild his fortress of Deception, which Truth had so utterly laid waste to in seconds.
Not because he wanted to.
Because he had to.
Because no one could say just one lie and be done with it, like Truth.
Because if you don't stop spinning lies, you're going to find yourself empty and with nothing.
Because Lies weren't full of anything...unlike Truth.
Because the foundation of one truth was so much stronger than a million lies.
"Why doesn't Father love me as much as you do?" the 16-year-old Loki looked questioningly at his mother. Frigga sighed and turned towards him.
"It's not that he doesn't love you," she said, "it's just that…he doesn't know how to show his love to you." Loki smirked a little at this.
"So I'm a mystery to everyone, then," he said, a sparkle coming into his green eyes. To Loki's surprise, his mother shook her head. She was smiling too.
"Not everyone, Loki." Frigga drew Loki forwards into a warm embrace.
"Not to me."
Frigga was dead.
It was his fault.
That was the truth.
And people still wondered why he had chosen to become the god of Lies.
Author's note: Wow. That was so much longer than the other one-shot I did...
Anyhoo. Hope it wasn't too long for you guys! This scene just encompasses more stuff, I guess.
Also, if you liked this story, you may enjoy my other two (so far) Thor stories on this site: Tattles and Curtains - Get the Connection? (A story written by me and my younger sis for a Thor-obsessed friend), which is a completely ridiculous and hilarious story, by the way (and doesn't contain spoilers), and Strength Within Weakness (contains spoilers from Thor: the Dark World), which is also from Loki's POV.
Any informative, constructive reviews are welcomed and encouraged!
God bless and have a great day (or night)!
