Part One: A Foolish Prince
Years ago, more than I care to count, there was the birth of a small frost giant child. The only complication was that he was born out of wedlock, between a commoner and a king, in the middle of war. His mother, later identified as Farbauti fled to the local temple, terrified that the father would learn of his birth. She received sanctuary, but when Odin Allfather destroyed the Jotun's army, the wardens of the temple fled. In her despair, Farbauti left the child behind, knowing that death would be better for him then the life she would have to give him.
But her plan went awry.
Instead of destroying the temple as anticipated, the mighty Odin saw fit to extract the artifacts inside it; including the Casket of Eternal Winter. It was in doing this that he found the child, yelling heartily upon the altar steps. And it was then that Odin did something that was never exposed, until now. He put a spell on the child, binding him to an Asgardian form. The All-father did this, wanting the boy to grow up and eventually be an ambassador between the worlds. This bond was in-perceivable to even the strongest wielders of magic; and thus Loki Odinson was born.
Until reaching the age of 17, I remained blissfully un-aware of any difference of status between me and Thor, the true prince of Asgard. In fact, it was my belief that because of my light complexion and dark hair, I was a freak of nature. Thus I employed every conceivable way of proving myself to Odin and Frigga, whom I foolishly referred to as "Father" and "Mother". But, even though I excelled in all subjects that called for even small amounts of intelligence, Thor easily outshone me in all feats of strength. And, just my luck, Asgardians loved nothing more than a good fist-fight. So Thor was always in the public eye, while Loki stayed well hidden in his shadow.
Thus, I became accustomed to the crushing feeling of loneliness at a very young age. I was shunned by all, since my hobbies were all "academically inclined". It was only Thor who tried to include me in anything at all; but he usually only made a bad situation worse by humiliating me. But even then, I blamed myself:
"Idiot, no-one pays any attention to you because you're such a weakling. Go into that training room and prove that you're stronger than you let on."
It was thus that I convinced myself to give fighting a try. But I was too young; Thor himself only took up weapons at age 15. Like the gullible fool I was, I took someone's advice and tried a sword out. My grip slipped, allowing the heavy sword to take a reasonable chunk out of my head; it was that day I gained the scar on my right temple. I ended up in the healing ward for a week. Thor was at my bedside alternating between laughing at me, and crying for me. I hated him in those days; loathing his very presence, every word he spoke sending bile to my throat. Of course, Thor took my silence as a sign of embarrassment, and he tried to comfort me as best as he knew how:
"It's not your fault Brother, that guard was a phony. Why I'll challenge him to a duel and invite all of Asgard. When I win, you can take heart in seeing him crushed!" I just smiled wanly and wished him away.
After I finally got out of there I avoided him as if he were Hel herself. I nursed my hate, and took comfort in the pain of my solitude; training with Frigga in the magic arts. Though, I spent most of my time in the library, where Thor never set foot unless it was absolutely necessary. It became my refuge, and it was there that I found the book. The book did not have any title, but was objectively the largest volume we had. It was situated 10 floors up, in a corner that, judging by the cobwebs, had not been visited in years. I nearly broke my neck taking that thing down, and looking back, it would have been better for me if I had; better for the world. But I got it down, and promptly commenced reading it. At first, the runes were completely incomprehensible. But gradually, I figured them out, and as I did, the book came alive. At each `waypoint` or chapter, I learnt something new, something horrible. More often than not, it was a description of a black mage or thief that had every gruesome detail, of every abhorrent deed. Half the time, my underdeveloped brain couldn't actually store this data properly; in other words, I was too young to be reading this. But nevertheless, my good sense fled me each time I opened the thing. Eventually after several months of sleepless nights spent entirely in the library, I read aloud a spell that caused something in me to change. I no longer felt the need to eat, or sleep. My basic needs were taken away, and in their place was an unspeakable hunger for bloodshed. I had, simply put transformed myself into a wraith. This at last woke up screaming sirens inside me, and I recoiled from the book in horror. I gazed at my now translucent hands in shock. It is unnecessary to write down the details, but after a long, horrific and bloody search, I gained the proper ingredients for the potion which would return me my, um, "tangible" aspect. It included:
The eye of a fanged frog, the incisors of a cobra, the legs of a black widow spider, the hair of a female warrior (Sif never quite forgave me; she used to have golden hair you see), the tears of a giant and the blood of 3 different races of people.
As you may imagine, the acquiring of these substances was very challenging due to my spectral form, I could not touch or grab anything! The only thing I could do was speak. So I quickly developed a silver tongue and the ability to tell when people were lying. Long story short, I came out of that knee-deep in debt, very street-wise, and an extremely practiced lie-smith.
Still to this day, eating and drinking are mostly superfluities to me. Though later I would re-gain the hunger aspect, but for something entirely different from food.
After this, I was more careful about that book, and referred to it only when I was looking for extra power in my spells (I had acquired quite an affinity for magic and a zeal for spells).
Thus began my teenage life, at age 12. Everything accomplished before this was done so either by accident or through the hands of a helpful (yet costly) acquaintance. At age 12, I started becoming what I am now. I did things for myself and by myself. I gained a keen sense of my surroundings, and I knew when and how to lie well. I also knew how to manipulate people's minds. As a final addition, probably most importantly, I learnt how to stay out of Heimdell's sights. I used this skill for all times I was outside the castle.
At age 12, I acted on the knowledge I had gained while searching for the ingredients for that potion. I was no longer an innocent, misguided boy. I was now becoming a fully aware and ruthless man.
A good example of how I had developed came when I was merely 14:
I was walking down an alleyway to my usual study place, when I was accosted by a figure draped in black. Upon quick evaluation, he was a man of around 28, with an ill-placed self-assurance. His hands were clumsily concealing a poisoned knife and his stance was an aggressive one. I quickly cloned myself and slipped behind him, invisible; I used that trick a lot. He lunged at my copy, which dodged expertly. Cursing, he swung out with his fist, and anticipating my clone`s duck, used his other hand to stab at its stomach with the knife. You can imagine his surprise when he sliced through air, and the next second felt himself pinned to the ground with a dagger to his back.
"P-Please, sir. I am only `doin what I was sent to do." He practically squeaked. Smirking, I replied:
"I observed this. And you did quite an inadequate job of it too. Your Master will be ill pleased no doubt. Though, I can see to it that he never hears back from you."
"N-No! Please sir, I got chil`un at home, and the wife'll be torn to bits if I die!"
His eyes radiated fear and remorse, and back then, it pricked my soft side.
"Well, let me consider this. Either I silence you, and not worry about any further attempts on my life, or I let you go back whining to a master who will un-doubted send either you or someone else back. I trust you see my predicament. Still, I am not a person without mercy, if you bring me to your Master`s abode, I`ll see what I can do for you."
"Y-You`d really do that sir? Oh bless you!"
"Yes well, get up before I change my mind." I said, but only half my heart was in it. I was, comparatively speaking, very mellow at the time.
With that, he scrambled up and scurried off down the alley, with me in hot pursuit. Eventually, we came to a blank wall in the farthest reaches of Asgard. It was a bad part of town, where, at that time of my life, I would never have been seen in any type of recognizable attire. Nevertheless, the man or creature in front of me was bobbing and bowing to me, babbling on about how he'd get the door open if I'd just wait here a minute.
"Silence! Do you not think I recognize a mage's door when I see one? Step aside."
I then proceeded to open the door in front of me; it was quite simple, even then, I had a powerful grip over the arcane.
"Shall you lead me, or are you too slow to do so?" I inquired, with no amount of patience.
"Of course sir, right this way."
We proceeded down a large hallway, at the end of which was another door, considerably small compared to the one we just came through, but we crossed it, into what seemed to be a very small elevator. My companion spoke some incomprehensible words to a small panel, and I felt a jolt of motion. Then all was silent. We stood there waiting for several minutes. In this time I felt my companion growing more and more uneasy in my presence; I had mixed feeling about this. Later in my life though, I'd learn to embrace the effect I had on people.
When the doors opened at last, the room outside was different. It was considerably small, and dingy; mentally, I crossed off all the nobles I knew on my suspects list. Behind me the man had shrank towards the wall, and I became aware of another presence in the room. I whirled on my heel to face this new person or creature. The sight that met me was admittedly, not what I was expecting. I was expecting some older fat man who would have a booming voice and a way of intimidating people. Instead, I was faced with a woman. Not a bad looking one either. She was about 25 and wore a rather skimpy dress. The man behind us was very plainly terrified of her though. I grinned and strode towards her, but she quickly stopped me by virtue of cold steel firmly pressed against my chest.
"Why is he still alive?" She inquired, blatantly ignoring me and instead boring into the man with her eyes.
"H-he got away Mistress; ther waren't anything I could'a done about it. He was aimin' to kill me, but he said I could live if I brought him to ya."
"Well Olaf, it would have made no difference. Your mission was to kill him, or die trying. And you did neither. I suppose you can see the problem here."
Her voice caused his resolve and confidence to crumble, and all he could manage was a paltry:
"Y-Yes mistress."
She was un-relenting, and to an untrained eye, she seemed completely void of emotion towards the man. But I could tell; she was causing herself pain with every condemning word. She longed to cast her vicious mask aside and forgive the man. I spoke up then.
"So Olaf, this is your wife?"
The man's eyes bulged
"Why, yes. That she is, but how in Helheim did you know that?"
I smirked.
"I have my ways." To be a Telepath was a truly wonderful thing.
Her eyes were on me now, drilling into mine. I returned her gaze steadily, something she obviously was un-accustomed to. After several seconds, her look faltered, and she turned away. I pounced on this chance to dominate the conversation.
"Why in all of Valhalla did you want me dead? I have no recollection of ever seeing you in my life. Was it something by cause and effect, or are you simply trying to prove something by killing a Prince of Asgard?"
She swallowed hard, looking at anything but my eyes.
"I'm only doing what I was told."
I was slightly taken aback, another superior? These sort of efforts usually only went to two members. The less that are in on it, the less to keep silent afterward; I knew this first hand.
"You have an overlord too then? Is it another woman like yourself or are you under the dominion of a man?"
I could have sworn she killed me mentally then.
"Yes, I have a master. But no, I'll not tell you who or where he is. It's bad enough that you got this far. Now I'll have to finish you myself."
With that she launched a series of highly predictable attack sequences, which I avoided with ease. Much to her consternation, I simply wouldn't hold still. After a few minutes of her futile attempts to pin me, I decided that I had had enough. Doing the least expected thing, I grabbed the sword by the blade, and she became painfully aware of how blunt the thing really was. I used it to pull her straight towards me; my favourite tactic. I grabbed her arm, and twisting it cruelly, forcing her into reverse arm lock, causing her to stand but inches away from my face. She tried quite desperately to withdraw from this compromising position, but with each squirm, I drew her closer. Now with barely one inch separating us, I quickly ducked my head to her ear and whispered softly:
"You would do well to not deny a prince darling."
With that I gave her arm another vicious twist and heard a satisfying crack. She screamed in agony, gripping her arm which now had bone protruding from it. I dropped her and turned on my heel walking towards the elevator. Looking behind me, I said to her:
"Tell your master, that I'm interested in working for him. If he'll accept me, that is." With that, I entered that lift and was gone from their sight.
Now one must understand that I made that offer completely assured that the master above them was the one who controlled them both. I knew that for some reason or another, he wanted me dead. Thus, I would do the un-expected; I would "join" him and then dispose of them at a later point. I have never been so wrong in my life.
The details of how I hit rock bottom on the honor scale are gruesome and unnecessary. I'll bring it all to a quick synopsis:
The deal I made turned out to be more that I had bargained for. I was accepted, but soon learnt that the man above me was simply one lowly underling in a long chain of masters and students. So many in fact, that he had never even laid eyes on the highest superiors. Instead, he got orders from his master daily, and when necessary, he delegated some of his work to me. I had no student; I was at the utter bottom of things. But I did learn a few things:
This syndicate was called the Dragon's Order.
Not to mess around with orders.
If I could kill my master, I would take his place, and a recruit would be placed under me.
This organization taught not only how to be an effective killer, but also how to effectively influence people, without harming them.
It was that very month that I committed my first murder; my master, naturally. It was satisfying to say the least, and I experienced no remorse or trauma. I liked it.
With that buffoon out of the way, I now had a "student". It happened to be a young adult, who was rather incensed that a 14 year old was above him. I cannot count the times I would have taken great pleasure in ripping his throat out. But he was a good study, and never failed me. Thus I dealt with him, instead of taking the easy way out. I trained him, and he sharpened my reflexes by virtue of countless attempts on my life.
This chain of events carried on for three years. In this time, I had gained much ground in the chain of authority. I had as many as 3000 below me. Thus as I began to reach the upper levels, I also began to be more and more introverted and psychotic; mostly for my own safety, at the expense of my sanity. As I look back, it was my own fault; I was even more reticent than I had ever been. And at age 17, I was very … Popular with women. I used this to my advantage. I used everything to my advantage. My whole drive became getting to the top, for I knew I would; and let nothing get in my way. Though to be fair, I was spurred on by people around me constantly putting me down; No-one believed I'd ever amount to anything. All I ever heard was discouragement. Stop trying Loki; just do what you're told. They all just let me know how far I'd not go. They were slowly washing away my colors, robbing me of every defining character traits; slowly making me insignificant. Who are you to change the world, silly boy? But inside, I felt something growing, getting restless. A beast, snarling at each insult, and gnawing at the chains society had set around it; and I had the key. But at that age, I was terrified of what might happen if I let it loose. So for now, I hid myself below many layers of introversion and intelligence; I was exactly what each person wanted me to be. For now.
Back in the Palace, Frigga fretted over my constant absence. I came home one night very tired and slightly torn up from an escapade into the wilderness of Niflheim trying to find an artifact of power. I succeeded of course, but had taxed my strength reserves greatly. I felt ready to fall off my own feet, but Frigga accosted me:
"I wish you'd stay at home for just one night! Loki, you worry me."
I flinched at hearing my name used. I had grown so accustomed to Master or Student.
Sighing, I replied:
"Mother, you worry entirely too much. I'm fine aren't I? I've never been away from home for more than two nights!"
"Yes, but do you honestly think that helps a mother's worries? I can't sleep those nights that you're away."
And even though I faced what seemed to be the denizens of Hel herself every day, and made myself more calloused with each passing hour; I still held a soft spot in my heart for that kind woman. I mentally cursed myself and spoke yet another shameless lie:
"Mother, I'm sorry. I just need to get away from the palace. Thor's friends have been so overbearing. I'll stay home now though, and I trust you'll sleep?"
My mother smiled, foolishly believing her "son". But her smile was slightly off; I didn't know why. I couldn't put my finger on it.
"Yes Loki, I'm sorry they've bothered you so much."
"Yes well, I'm certainly used to it."
There was pain in her eyes then, and I felt something that had become quite alien to me. I felt a sharp prick of remorse. Shoving it aside, I gave her a half-hearted smile, and then walked off, in a mental turmoil. I hated myself for my weakness, and yet I could not seem to shake the warm feelings concerning her. This tore me in two, and I hated myself all the more for the indecision. To top it off, I was mentally and physically exhausted.
It was in this condition that I retired to my room for another sleepless night of spells and tomes; sleep no longer gave me rest, as devils and monsters haunted my dreams. Magic was my only source of relaxation. I had by this time, created a transport circle which connected to the library. Thus I whiled away the night's hours reading, long after the doors were barred to all others; I hadn't actually slept for years. It was in these ever more frequent times of solitude that I heard the voices.
I recognized them as my own, but I knew my mouth was not moving. Yet I heard them as clear as if Thor had bellowed in my ear. There was little choice but to listen to myself argue with me; and though at this point it seemed second-nature, some deep part of me was extremely disturbed in a forbidding way. That night's argument went something like this:
"Fool, weakling and coward! You need to get rid of her! She's weakening you, and you know it!"
"Oh do shut up! I can't do that, I-Its illogical! She's the queen, and if she was to die, and I identified as the killer, all Hel would break loose! Besides, she means well!"
"There you go again, you and your ceaseless logic! Oh yes, she means well. That's what you'll say until you're too soft to function properly. I've gotten you this far, and I'm not giving up on you now. I say you kill all of them, and just be done with it.
"Alright, that's just insane. Now would you mind telling me, how in Fenrir's name would we ever get away with that!?"
"That's not my problem. You're the one who strategizes. I set the objectives, and see that they get carried out."
"Yes, well not this time. Not yet at least. It's much too risky, and I'm not in any position to cover for us well. Not all at once. Be patient, I'll get you your chance. Just wait."
"Well hurry it up a little. Each day you wait is a day lost."
"Alright I get your point, now go back to sleep."
With that, the aggressive voice was gone, and the other died away. I shook my head to clear the trance and took up my book again.
It's not without some mirth that I write this section. In this segment, I explain the true motives and turnout of what countless people already know of: The death of Loki Odinson. So if you're still alive and reading this, try to put behind you whatever conclusions you may have drawn about my episode of seeming madness before I was lost to the world in the abyss.
I was 17, going on 18 in a month, when I was jarred from my spell book by the grating voice of my frost giant student. (I was at this point, still un-aware of my true heritage.)
"Master, I think you'll want to know that The All-Father is crowning Thor king of Asgard tomorrow morning."
I was stunned. Yes, I may have been absent from the castle a lot, but not enough so as to pass up the word of this coming event. I was un-prepared to accept my loathsome brother as King, besides. I had other plans, which required Odin to be on the throne. This had to be postponed.
I looked at my student sharply.
"You're sure of this?"
"Yes sir, I got the information while watching and listening to the royal family as you requested."
"Very good, you may leave."
With that he was gone, and I was left in a panic of destroyed plans. The voices came in force, causing a splitting pain in my head. I crumpled to my knees, hands over my ears to try and lessen the pain.
"I knew it! You waited too long! You and your STUPID studies! You need to take ACTION! NOW!"
"Alright! I suppose it was too long a postponing. I'll figure something out, just please, lower your tone."
"NO! I will NOT! You need to learn something, and you need to learn it right NOW: Waiting too long to do something inevitable, will ALAWYS lead to FAILURE! Now KILL THEM ALL! Go to that coronation, wait till the right moment, and DESTROY ALL PRESENT!, to Hel with all consequences!"
"I can't do that! Not yet! Wait, just a little more time! I'll figure it out! Please! Give me one more day!"
"Not a chance. It's been long enough! Now get me in there!"
"Enough."
This time there was a third voice. My own, I felt my lips moving. I was talking.
"What!?" cried the aggressor.
"What?" whispered the pacifist.
"I said enough."
"Since when do you care, I've gotten you where yo-"
"Silence! I need to think, and neither of you are helping."
The violent voice quieted and the more passive seemed to be waiting.
"It's rather simple you two. At this point, going for the kill is not the answer, but we are going in there. And we will wreak havoc. But we need a diversion. And I know exactly where to get one. If all goes well, Asgard will have one less prince within the week."
"And would you mind sharing this plan?"
"Yes, I would actually. You'd just rationalize it away, with if I may add, flawed reasoning."
After this, I did not hear from them for a while. But they did come back at a later time, the only difference being that I was acknowledged in their conversations.
I hurried off to the elevator, situated at the other end of my large and comfortable office. For you see, the higher up you get, the more luxuries you can afford. I exited into the "illustrious" city of Asgard, with all of its vilest on display, at the hour of midnight.
Cloaking myself in black, I proceeded with only my eyes visible, walking towards a place I knew held the un-official gate to Jotunheim. It was situated in the back room of a filthy tavern, in which my cloaked figure was a common and overlooked sight. I was Luke, a midget Aesir, blond and passive.
"Ah, young Luke m'boy, what kin I get 'fer you today?"
"Nothing for now, but I would appreciate a visit to your back room; with recompense, obviously."
"Why of course young Mas'r. Anything you please, but do remember to tip your waiter." The bartender said with a devious smirk.
I let out a small sigh, then laughed
"I'm offended, don't I always?"
"Course ya do. Jus' doin' my dooty by my boys here."
I mentally rolled my eyes, yes of course, you old geezer. You're doing your "dooty" by blackmailing them out of wages later. Outwardly I nodded my agreement and slipped several gold pieces into his palm. Then I headed to the back, tipping the self-conscious attendant by the door.
Once inside I discarded my disguise, and then proceeded to magically transform my attire into all that was fit for a prince of Asgard. Stowing my cloak in my hammerspace, I strode towards a mirror that was placed in the far left corner of that dark and over-stuffed room; I touched the mirror's surface lightly with my index finger and felt it go through. Smirking I stepped through the mirror and straight into the heart of Jotunheim.
I scanned my surroundings quickly, and noticed a group of Jotuns to my left. They had not noticed me yet, and I used this to lessen the space between us. When I was within hearing I hailed them; of course, they immediately bristled with weapons and snarled. I put my hands up, signaling my peaceful intentions, and then explained that I was fighting for their cause. I knew all too well that Odin had their precious casket; I also knew that a certain general would love nothing more than to get that casket to Laufey, so as to prove his valour. Laufey would then use the artifact to destroy Asgard and restore Jotunheim to its past state of Frost Giant grandeur.
"Bring me to General Skymir. Then we'll talk about the invasion."
I was brought rather promptly to the said general. Purebred Frost Giants are truly gullible when they wanted something badly enough. In later days, I blessed my stars for inheriting some Asgardian skepticism from Odin. When I met Skymir, I had to tilt my head a good deal to look up at him, he was indeed a giant. We got to talking, and eventually I convinced him that even with all of Asgard in the palace, tomorrow was still the best time ever to get the casket. It was so easy, I almost felt shame.
I re-entered Asgard with a grin plastered on my face. Cloaking myself again, I could not resist a little pat on the back.
"Nicely done, not even the mischievous one himself could have done better. Oh, wait. That's me." I laughed at the name my cloaked figure had acquired on the streets.
Sobering myself, I stepped out of the back room and sat at the bar counter.
"One of the usual Kadri, if you please." I ordered something so as not to seem strange to other patrons, to them I was Luke Jameson, age 21. I needed to keep a good reputation here if I was to use the back room frequently. The old man didn't even know about the mirror's properties!
"Alright Luke, you've got it." Replied the barkeep's assistant, he was not an unpleasant boy, one whom you could say was not on my list of people to kill.
"One shot of rum from Vanaheim."
"Thank you."
I downed my drink, and left with a show of leisure, but once out of the door I spoke a word of transport and arrived at the window of my room in the palace. Changing hurriedly into my normal attire, I teleported to the library, and walked to the dining room from there, nodding to the librarian on my way out. I was, of course, just in time for supper.
"Loki! There you are. I was about to ask the librarian to find you. Son, you do spend entirely too much time in that stuffy place. Why you probably know all the books off by heart! You know I don't usually mind when your absent at meals, but we need to speak with you tonight." Frigga did not approve of my constant solitude, and wished I would go live it up, and (if at all possible) court a girl. Apparently so did Thor:
"My coronation's tomorrow brother, don't tell me you'll be locked up then too?"
"No, no. I wouldn't miss that for the world." I said, my tone dripping with mock warmth. Thor was completely oblivious to my thinly veiled hatred, but Odin was another matter:
"What's wrong Loki? Do you begrudge your brother's good fortune?"
I mentally shot him.
"Of course not Father, I'm simply dismayed at how little warning I was given. I would have liked to organize a party or make him a gift. But now I'm forced to do something on extremely short notice." This time, I lied much more convincingly, being careful to add the sound of sincerity and dismay at all the right moments. It seemed to pacify the Allfather, for he nodded and resumed eating. Frigga though was all heart:
"Oh we know, but you see the people were voting between Thor and you, and well, we needed time to see who'd won. Once we figured that out, the seers announced that tomorrow would be the best day for a gathering. That was last week, but this is the first time I've seen you at dinner in almost a month! Where in the world have you been?"
I smiled at her affectionately,
"Yes, of course mother I understand, and as for where I've been…"
I decided that I would give her what she wanted; I let loose a web of infallible lies:
"You see, I met a maiden at last month's banquet, and fell quite hopelessly in love with her. When she left, I knew I had to see her again. So I tracked her down and found she was part of the disgraced royal family that Father had gone to war with in Vanaheim. Thus, when we met, it was quickly decided we could never be... So I came back here. I'm sorry for troubling you, but I could not bring myself to write until the matter was settled. And now that there's closure, I believe we can all forget about it."
I said that last part while shooting daggers at Thor. He caught my gaze, and any mirth or ridicule that was dancing in his eyes shriveled up. Frigga on the other hand was near tears.
"Oh! Oh, Loki I am so sorry son. That your first love had to end so tragically!"
"No, no mother. Its fine, I'm not going to cry about it now. What's done is done, and it was probably some foolish fancy anyways. Let's please talk about some other subject. Thor! What do you plan on doing as your first kingly act?"
Thor of course, pounced on the topic, it involved him after all.
"I will travel to Jotunheim! To find out if there really are any remaining frost giants; and if there are, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!"
"That sounds like a decent plan. Why let such a useless minority live, after all." Mentally I said something very different. But that needs not be mentioned.
The conversation dragged on, until finally, I was able to seize on an opportune moment of silence to excuse myself. I hurried away to my chambers, deciding that I would sleep today, wanting to keep the voices out of my head as long as possible, to hell with dreams, for they had yet to return, and I was always wary of extended silence.
When I woke, it was around 3 AM and still dark. But something had woken me, so I sat bolt upright and extended my senses. There was no-one in my room except me, so I relaxed a little, but my gut told me something was not right. I got up quietly and slipped into the hall, letting my senses tell me which way to go. I ended up in the practice rooms; I hesitated a little, because the last time I had entered there ended, well, badly. But I pushed aside any trepidation and quietly entered. I was met by an odd sight, Thor was practicing on a dummy with his fists, but that was not the strange part of it. The unusual part was that he was completely alone. I kid you not; I have never seen Thor without some kind of friend or fan, on even a single day of my life! I was taken aback, and wondered why in all of Valhalla and Helheim was he alone. Also, why would my senses take me to my brother? I was never concerned with his problems before.
"Can't sleep Thor?"
He whirled and I saw a sort of animal ferocity in his gaze, but I was used to that. It was the fear that caught me off-guard.
"Brother! It's only you. I thought it might be Fandral or Sif come to mock."
"No… It's only me, and I'd like to know what's going on. You know I don't mock you."
"… Alright, if you insist. You see, tomorrow is my coronation and I am feeling…"
"Yes, feeling what?"
"Feeling… Nervous! Now don't you dare laugh or smirk!" My shoulders slackened. For a moment I'd thought that something had been actually wrong.
"Do I look like I'm laughing? Thor, there is no reason to feel nervous. Have you ever done something to cause the people to doubt your competency as king?"
"N-No"
"Then you see? There is nothing to fret over. You will be a great King."
"You truly believe that?"
"Yes Thor." I was not getting the usual satisfaction out of fooling him. That troubled me.
"Thank you brother, I needed that off my chest. I- I can always count on you to be there when I need you. I will try to do the same for you. We must stand by each other."
"Yes, of course Thor."
I was surprised at how much sincerity was behind his words, in fact, I was never there for him. I ignored him unless it was essential! Yet somehow, the oaf still cared for me, loved me even. I needed to get out of there before my resolve crumbled entirely about today's events. With this in mind, I hurried out. I ran down the hall, desperately trying to keep my mind clear of indecision so the voices would stay away.
"I will follow through, stay focused." Over and over.
I burst into my room panting and sweating. At this point I was willing to listen to anyone, anything to explain away the volatile feelings inside me. It was then that I was introduced to a new voice. I did not recognize it, but it was soft, soothing and its very sound made me drowsy and relaxed.
"Oh Loki, why do you let trifles have such an effect on you? You're more than capable of handling your emotions aren't you?"
The aggressor piped up just then, jolting me out of my trance.
"Hey! We were taking care of him just fine! We don't need any of your kind here, now get out!" My other occupant voiced itself that moment, seeming atypically distressed.
"H-He's right! You need to leave. Immediately! He doesn't need you! Not now, not ever!"
Once over, I was lulled into a stupor by the intruder. But it seemed to have a different edge to it; a dangerous one.
"Quiet down now, you two. You know very well that only he can decide that. I'm here to offer my help if he'll take it." It cut off then, directing its voice to me:
"So what do you say Odinson? Will you take my help? I don't offer it to just anyone. But you seemed different from the others. You have finesse and class. I can help you refine yourself even further. Just invite me into your plans. I'll take care of the rest. No need to worry about anything."
I was still processing the first sentence of what was said; when my two combatants piped up again, this time both sounding desperate; as if warning me against some great danger. What danger? I was still entranced. I felt a sharp pain at the back of my mind. It sent me falling forward in my fuddled state. Then as I seemingly fell in slow motion, the aggressor broke through my fog.
"WATCH OUT!"
I snapped to attention, catching myself just inches from the cold marble floor. I could have split my head open without difficulty. I considered the offer before me, and recognized a smooth liar. This was looking dangerous, and I needed resolution. But damn it all, the voices signified that I had only indecision. I was swaying on a razor edge. Which way should I go? Succumb, to this new and potentially dangerous voice, which offered to alleviate me from responsibility and effort; allowing me to rest. One must admit; it was hazardously tempting. Or should I stay with the familiar and (moderately) safe voices, which I could usually hold control over. If I did that though, it would mean long hours of sleepless anxiety and pain. Working hard to keep my path straight, using every iota of strength and intellect to remain on top of my life's evils.
"You see? We're here to help you Loki. We'll keep you safe." It was my logical pacifist now. Yes, that was right. He was my logic, and the other was my passion.
"Now that your back in a sound state of mind, will you kindly tell this intruder to get the Hel out?" So growled my zealous aggressor.
I focused my thoughts on the new and unidentified voice; and just like that, I made my own decision. I directed my thoughts at the intruder.
"I will do neither. Listen here, I don't want you to leave, but, it must be clear that I am in control. If for even an instant, you try to do anything past giving me council, I will dismiss you."
"Very well, Master Loki. It shall be as you say."
That imp knew how to smooth my feathers at least.
"Good. Now the lot of you go to sleep. I will try to resume my rest if you please."
And just like that, they silenced. After this, I enjoyed the luxury of almost complete control over them; for a little while at least. I found a way to widen the margin for error, for now.
When I woke again, it was for the natural reason of light playing on my closed eyelids. I thanked providence for normal awakenings. Getting up, I felt refreshed, like I had not felt in a while; I chalked it up to me finally having a grip on my mind's occupiers. I swung out of bed and proceeded to accomplish all the small, domestic luxuries of the morning. Once clean and shaven, I dressed in my best and walked to the great hall.
Frigga and Odin were already there, naturally. But Thor and his friends were in the dining hall finishing breakfast. I was asked to summon them to the great hall; I dismissed myself from the Allfather's presence and went towards Thor's private banquet hall. I made sure to open the door quietly, and thus Thor and his rowdy company did not notice me. Oh Thor. Are you really that easy to steal up to? You'll never know what hit you.
I strode forward, and much to my amusement no-one took notice. I surprised everyone by projecting my whisper outside of my being:
"Hello Asgardians." My voiced hissed as if from beside the fireplace opposite the table.
They all jumped, and you could get a good study of each character by their reactions:
Thor stood and summoned Mjolnir, ever the brash fighter.
Sif visibly bristled with hand hovering over her sword, looking to see what Thor would do, ever the impressionable female, dominated by emotions and fancies. Yet she tried desperately to be an independent shield maiden.
Fandral stared hard at the spot my voice came from hand in mid-air, ever the lazy and arrogant excuse for a swordsman.
Hogun was sitting placidly, yet every muscle was tense and his eyes were wild, ever the cool headed warrior of honor.
Volstagg didn't even notice. He was still eating. And to that, nothing needs be added.
Every eye was pointing away, and I ventured a more normal greeting:
"Friends! Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three; good-day to you all!"
They each doubled around, and seeing me, relaxed. Thor recognized one of my older tricks, and he had the good sense to laugh.
"Brother! It was only you, we got quite a scare! We were actually talking of the legends surrounding secret passages in the palace; they supposedly were used by traitors to commit crimes like assassination and theft with ease. So we were a little on edge. But come! Join our feast!"
"Or what's left of it!" Said Volstagg cheerily.
I smirked at Thor's words. The oaf was truly clueless. I pushed aside the desire to burst out laughing at how easily and soundly I had fooled them all, in matters much larger than this.
"No, I already ate," I lied. "But I'm here to tell you all that you should begin to prepare yourselves. The ceremony will begin soon."
Fandral spoke then, chastising me I suppose.
"Ah, that's Loki for you. Never any time to have a little fun. Always straight to the important things in life, by the quickest route; no time for shambling fools like us eh?"
I contrived an apologetic look; but Thor beat me to repling.
"Now Fandral, my brother loves fun as much as anyone. He just has a different idea of what that is than us. He prefers a book to pretty girls."
"Of course. But if he were to ever change his mind, I could name at least 5 ladies who are dying to meet him."
I mentally groaned. I got along just fine with the "ladies" on my own actually Fandral. Besides, the last thing I wanted right now was a simpering female leeching at my energy and focus.
"That's hardly necessary Fandral. I appreciate the generous offer, but I don't have the forbearance for such a relationship."
"Can't blame me for trying!"
No Fandral, because your motives are oh so pure. Ugh. I had to get out of this den of hypocrites.
Thor feigning happiness, while a glance at his eyes showed thinly veiled angst.
Sif pretending interest in the conversation, when everyone around besides the oaf himself could see, she yearned for Thor to notice her in a special way.
Fandral shamming goodwill while glorying in last night's "conquest" and mentally gloating.
Volstagg and Hogun were the only transparent ones there. But the former was so dense and the latter so obsessed with his honor that their very presence aggravated me.
I excused myself pleasantly and hurried out.
Having the sudden urge to throw up my pretended breakfast, I took a side-trip to the nearest window. Dignity be damned, they truly made me sick.
The only one I could stand was Sif. In fact, I admired her greatly. But her taste in men was greatly flawed, so she was oblivious to any of my feelings at all. Obviously, I refused to be used to get her closer to Thor. Poor girl, if she had but asked I could have told her it was futile. Thor had no fidelity in his heart for anyone except his hammer. But still. They all were so close. Despite their flaws, they stayed together.
"Stay focused Master Loki; forget the superficial charm of their fellowship. It's not worth your time and energy."
Good advice. I could not have said it better myself. I was glad that I'd decided to keep that one.
When Thor and co. finally decided to grace the great hall, Asgard was already gathered. The moment was very near, all was arranged and going perfectly. This was my last chance to back out…
"Don't even think about it. I'm here to make sure you follow through remember?" My passionate voice was adamant.
"Yes, what would I do without you?" I whispered back scathingly.
"Hush! The people will hear you!" My logical voice reprimanded.
I smirked. How I loved the feeling of knowing something others didn't.
At that moment, Thor burst forth from the doors at the other end of the hall. He was decked in all his regalia, and everyone cheered till they were hoarse. When he finally made his grand way to the steps of Odin's throne, I began to feel sick again. I fought extremely hard to keep it in check, and thankfully, succeeded. I had lost any sense of merriment I had though. My face was impassive as Odin began to recite the kingly questions and Thor to answer them. I thought all my choices over quickly. If I go through with this, Thor will commit treason, Odin will shun him and keep the throne for a while longer, and I can organize further plans after that. It seemed fool-proof. Then again, Thor and his friends could easily get badly hurt, and my duplicity could be discovered. It was risky, but I saw no alternative. Ah, but there went the explosion. No turning back now.
The rest of that incident is, as they say, history. You all know how the casket was defended, and Thor whipped up into a substantial rage about how Odin had neglected this very avoidable problem, and thus ruined his day. Thor stormed off, and wrecked a banquet hall. Then I, staying true to my timid and mousy reputation (among Thor and co.) sent him off to Jotunheim with reverse psychology. That's when it got risky. I needed to make sure the frost giants kept quiet about my identity, if they should recognize me. This was easier than I had anticipated. Heimdell transported us to a place miles and miles away from my usual entry point. Frost giants have whole communities divided by distance, so I had no reason to worry. But then something happened to change my whole perspective on life. I discovered my true heritage. It was all I could do to keep myself standing. My vision was swirling, and I felt lightheaded.
But ironically, Fandral saved me from embarrassment. He got stabbed, so that gave validity to rushing everyone out. We almost made it, but Thor had to be the hero and continue to provoke them. Thus, we were pursued by that monstrous dog, creature. We all emerged unscathed though, (relatively speaking) when Odin called us back to Asgard. That's when my plan went slightly off-course. Thor got himself banished, instead of simply being confined to his room. I hardly noticed though, I was too busy trying to piece together broken shards of my now destroyed life story. I figured it out quickly enough though. I went directly to the treasury to make certain. Sure enough, while a normal person would freeze entirely on contact with the casket, my body simply changed forms to protect me.
I turned to face Odin and learn the truth. He told me everything that he had been too cowardly to admit before. And then, conveniently slipped into the Odin Sleep. Right when I could have used a little fatherly direction.
That did it. I was undone; every fiber of my being was thrown to different corners of the universe. For the first time in a long time, I experienced two emotions, in their distilled, purest forms:
Anger and sadness.
They destroyed all my walls and barricades. With horror, I felt them tear at my carefully built up cordons of bitterness, exposing my soul through my eyes. My seemingly in-traversable moats of distance and solitude were filled in and crossed, letting me know how much I truly missed the feeling of my soul being touched by another. My weapons of venomous lies and inflammatory opinions were rendered useless, I couldn't think of even one way to explain this away. My very drive and focus was blurred and confused, what was I then? All I knew was pain, horrible pain. And anger at the ones who did this to me.
"All of them. They all did this. It's them, they hate you. They'll never love you. Never have. Never will. You're alone. Nothing you do will endear anyone to you. The only companions you have are your lies and the cobwebs of shredded dreams. But you've always known that deep down, Laufeyson" The unidentified voice hissed at me relentlessly.
Damned emotions aside, he was right.
That was all I had now. So why bother? For Hel's sake, why do anything but what I wanted? Nothing had really changed, except perhaps, that any direction I had in my life was dashed to pieces. I was already dead to myself. I needn't go on trying to be something I wasn't.
Not that it helped me at all right now though. I needed to pull myself together. I called the guards, and walked towards my room to deal with my condition.
I closed the door behind me and felt myself drop onto the bed. For a while, I let my emotions take their course. I raged and sobbed alternately, a complete slave to my feelings whims. When I emerged from that, I was a changed man. Now that my pent up emotions were out of the way, I could see clearly. I knew six things:
I was utterly alone, but that had more pros than cons, I realized.
I was a Jotun, with the ability to switch forms into an Asgardian. Highly valuable.
My plans needed some fast altering to still work. Nothing I couldn't fix though.
I was still under everyone's skin in the palace. I mustn't compromise that.
I now had no morals or expectations to hold me back. I could do what I wanted to.
I cared not a whit for anyone around me anymore. No-one. Or so I told myself.
Besides that, not much was clear. So I set about re-building my mental barriers. Once I was comfortably inside myself again, I set about salvaging my plans. I realized, this chain of events provided a unique chance. With Odin sleeping, and Thor banished, I was the next in line for the throne. Effective immediately! This enabled a lot. And, if I could keep Odin asleep, or even better, kill him quietly, and say he died in sleep. Then I could keep Thor in Midgard to rot, and I would be unchallenged for the throne. The only problem was that some frost giants knew of my identity, and may rouse some rabble back here in Asgard. I could not leave the palace long enough to hunt them down, besides; I couldn't even remember what they all looked like. I'd have to do something to eliminate all threats, and quickly. By something that could be written off as an accident too. I figured I'd find something when I needed to. But for now, I needed to go see Frigga. She would want an arm to cry on, and someone to trust in. I of course, would be the only option.
Hurrying off to accomplish this, I let loose a hearty laugh. I felt so much happier, lighter even. As if a huge burden were lifted, and I knew I'd never be the same. Looking back, that was the moment where I lost my sanity; and started to realize both how horrible and liberating that really was.
When I reached the room where Odin was put whilst he slept, I held out my arms to Frigga, and she went into them gladly. After a few moments conversation, she did what I expected her to, which was she to give me control of all Asgard. I accepted the burden with the proper amount of bewilderment and gravity. When I was through with that act, I sat on the throne wondering who in the world has ever been happier.
And just my luck, I acquired two new demons. One was a perpetual pessimist, while the other was an optimist. Just what I needed. Now, the number of voices became even larger later on, so I will disclose the names I used when referring to them:
The Logician was Data.
The Zealot was Skrell
The Pessimist was Umber
The Optimist was Landr
The unidentified was simply, The Other.
"I can name millions who have been, and are much happier than you ever will be Laufeyson." This was of course Umber, and he, as always invoked a reply from Landr:
"Well, I can name millions who have been and are much less happy than he is now!"
"You two should stop bickering, there's no point to it right now." That was Data, right on cue. And, since you can't have one without the other, Skrell put in his two cents:
"Could you stop putting people down with your cold logic? People need to feel things sometimes! Things like hot anger or gripping fear!"
The only one who really aided me much was The Other. I blessed my choice to keep them each time he spoke:
"Master Laufeyson, you should consider silencing them. It must be rather distracting."
The others usually revolted when he spoke. They were all convinced he didn't belong. They all told him to stay out of it. I said otherwise.
"I tend to agree with him. You're all very intent on keeping me frayed at the edges aren't you? Go back to sleep! The lot of you! I need peace, and good council." I said that to indicate The Other was to stay if he wished.
They listened. Thank Valhalla, they listened.
"Well done Master Laufeyson. Now, I believe there has been a nagging little question you've wanted to ask me."
"Yes; several. First, what am I to call you in conversation?" This had been confusing me.
"Your mind has labeled me as "Other", so I will answer to that." He replied smoothly,
"Good. Now, Other, from whence do you hail? I know you're someone communicating telepathically; I'm not so dense as to not feel that. But I have never encountered your kind." I was genuinely bothered by this. I did not like that something I knew nothing about was privy to my mind's doings.
"Ah. So young Laufeyson has figured that out hmm? Well, I hail from a place long lost in history. Not even you know of it. I am part of a race known as the Chitauri. We were long dropped out of the history books." I was slightly taken aback. I had indeed, never heard of them.
"Not all of them apparently, for I have heard of your kind. But I never had the honor of meeting one of you." I slipped a lie into our conversation, to see if he could tell. If he did, there was no sign of it.
"Really? Well I'm shocked. A spell was supposed to have erased all information on us a long time ago. But I suppose Asgardians have ways of protecting their knowledge."
"Indeed. Now, I want to see you. I think I have earned the right to speak to you face to face."
There was a silence after this. And I feared I had gone too far; but I slowly saw the throne room around me melt away, into a wasteland of arcane and ice. Aware that I was not truly here, but somehow my spirit was; I felt a strong telepathic being to my right, so I turned to face this "Other". He was shorter than I expected. He was also not human, only humanoid. In fact, it was hard to believe that his smooth voice came from his throat. But then again, he might have been disguising his voice. I learnt that this was exactly what he had done. His true voice was low and grating. It was one that instilled a nameless fear in the one who heard it.
It was thus that I first met the Other. I need not further illustrate the encounter, as most of the conversation was mundane, and adds nothing to the story. When my spirit returned, it was with a painful jerk. My senses were temporarily fuzzy and unclear, but that ended within the next 30 seconds.
I mulled this new information over, wondering how I could use it to my gain. I was forced to put that aside though, when who should arrive but Sif and the Warriors Three.
I couldn't resist, I used that chance to gloat a little. Just a little.
After that, the rest is known. I sent the destroyer to Midgard to kill Thor, was thwarted, went to destroy Odin, was distracted by Laufey then thwarted by Thor. Went to destroy Jotunheim, but was thwarted by Thor again, and after all this, I was left hanging off the edge of the now decimated Bi-Frost; literally, dangling off the edge of my own insanity.
It was decision time again. And this time, it was me, no voices, no council, just me. I thought of a million reasons I should hold on. I could get through it. Not all was lost, I could do something better than this with my life. But I recognized lies when I heard them. I was kidding myself. It's better not to breathe than to breathe a lie. If I held on, I would be at best re-accepted, and back into the same vicious cycle of trying to impress and failing miserably. Maybe I would gain recognition, and maybe I would have some of the praise and glory I longed for. But I would still be living a lie. I would still sneak out to participate in the Dragon's Order. No, it would be much better to just end it here. It would cause much less misery for everyone that way. So I let go. I let go, expecting to be suffocated by the lack of air within minutes.
But, like Farbauti before me, plans for my death went awry.