Hello everyone! I'm back with yet another story.
I haven't written lately mainly because of the fact I don't get much popularity. Selfish, I know, but a girl needs pampering.
Often however, I do "one-shot" stories, and I've noticed that ones with chapters get pleading for more. So, although I HATE doing it to a story destined to be a "one-shot", I shall be breaking this into parts. If this part gets enough support, the rest shall follow it.
I hope you like it!
{ P.S.- It only gets better, trust me. Man, I wish I were posting this as a one-shot. Ugh. }
Bitter Longing
Part One: Desire
A whisper.
A caught breath.
The faint recollection of a word smeared by tears and hidden by emptiness. A shift, a movement; a fracture scurrying upward, branching out like an ancestral tree, generations upon generations of memories blending together. Memories of love, of hate, of violence; memories of a time often longed for and too quickly spent. The fading fragrance of freedom, and trust. The reassuring weight of comfort, of reassurance; the sound of laughter and the texture of a smile. All cloaked in darkness, drowning within a liquid spread of hate and vengeance. Finally finding a lull in the bashing waves and leaping from the frothing ocean. Fluttering like onyx butterflies to that dim word, lying forgotten on a crumpled and torn template. Sitting between the lines, minuscule creatures twisting to form curves, to form letters.
To form a word.
A name.
"Thor."
Soft yet chapped lips forming the name, almost in reverence, and surely in shock. For those lips had vowed to never speak that name but in hatred and in blinded rage. With venom and spite, only then was that word to leave their grasp. But now it slipped past the gates, and was voiced with confused longing and a desperate hunger to set things right; to replace dark opal memories with silver and gold jewels once more.
A murky thought crystallized soon after perfect jewels and onyx butterflies floated away on the wind of forget. An admittance, a desire, a command.
"I need to see him."
Loki sat up on the small bed, his covers tossed haphazardly to the side. A pale face contorted in panic, emerald eyes sunken deep into the beastly pits of madness. His bare feet slapped against the cold cell floor, and a shiver ran through his body. Loki ran to the transparent wall at the front of his cage, pounding his fist against the shield, raw screams ripping from his throat. Guards were soon positioned outside his cell, spears pointed toward the god of mischief.
As if I could possibly harm them from in here, Loki thought tiredly. He was but a monkey, and the guards his trainers. He performed tricks, parading around in his wretched cage to amuse the people outside. He was quiet, and courteous. Never starting fights, never misbehaving.
All for naught, it seemed. Beasts were to be beasts, to some. Never to be trusted.
"What is it, prisoner?" Sharp blue eyes deep within a golden helmet, full of arrogance and authority. Oh, how Loki would love to dim that glow, and take the man down a few pegs.
But he only had one thing on his mind at the moment. Only one mission.
"I need to see Thor." Calm, smooth words, flowing like water.
"The king?" A laugh, more like the bark of a dog. A vicious mutt that needed to be put down. "And why would the future King of Asgard want to see such a lowly prisoner like you?"
Anger burned, a fiery sensation in his rib cage. "If I'm but a lowly prisoner, why do you jump so high when I howl?" Loki gave him a small sneer. "Is the poor little sheep scared of the big bad wolf?"
"Enough," The guard growled. "Back to bed." He signaled for the men to return to their posts.
No. Loki's spite vanished in an instant, his eyes clouding once more. He banged his fist against the shield, causing the yellow pane to shimmer. The guards turned their heads.
"Please. I need to see him." Loki swallowed down his pride, only trying to stay afloat as the thought of returning to an blank eternity clawed its way into his throat. "I'm begging you. Not as a prisoner, but as a man."
The guard sneered. "As a man? You're not a man, Jotun, so why would I listen to you?"
Trying to stay afloat but choking, despair burning a hot path down his throat. Waves of desperation swallowing him, forcing him beneath the surface. "Fine. Not as a man, but as a being living here in Asgard." Tears stung Loki's eyes, and crystals fell down his cheeks in soft waterfalls. His black hair hung in unkempt curls. Hair he often tore at long into the night. "I'm begging you. Allow me to attempt to patch wounds, heal sores."
The guard did not appear to be moved, and sudden rage ate Loki from the inside out. Loki's eyes flashed, pits of green fire. He clutched at his bare chest, as if to tear himself apart in order to find and tame the beast within him. The slithering serpent who crept into his mind and curled around his heart before sinking its poisoned fangs into his being, his soul.
A wounded animal in tattered clothes, appearance no longer of any importance. Dying from the inside for decades, and finally screaming. "I don't want to die by drowning underneath my own corruption!"
An intake of breath.
A pause.
"Alright. I'll let you see him."