So this is my first Loki FanFic, and my first real FanFic back on this site in awhile, and I really hope you like it. I've been really wanting to get into the depth of Loki's character, which I find to be a beautifully complex and sad one. As the wonderful Tom Hiddleston says, it's his job to find the humanity in Loki, and I wanted to channel that into a story, giving a glimpse into what could have been the reasons behind who he became.
This is a stream of consciousness type story, going back and forth between different time periods in Loki's life.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Loki or any other character in the Marvel franchise (obviously) and I do not stand to make any money off of this story.
Rated M just to be safe for any future posts, and because I'm just writing for an older, more mature audience.
Enjoy!
Golden locks blew gently in the warm wind, bathed in glorious sunlight. Tender, sea-blue eyes gleamed at him, bringing with them every feeling of peace that could fill one. A smile touched her perfect lips, dancing in her eyes. There was nothing else in existence, save this moment.
But suddenly, darkness engulfed the scene, and the screams began. Terrible, gut-wrenching screams that tore through the darkness and reached with a clawed hand at the core of his being…
…Loki awoke with a start, drenched in a heavy, cold sweat. His breathing was ragged, and his entire body shook violently. Placing shaking fingers to his face, he ran them through his dark hair and clenched them at the back of his head.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pulled aside the covers and crossed to the opposite end of the room. A soft breeze was blowing, swirling the silk curtains around him in the open air of the balcony. He stared out at the sea that rose and fell listlessly in the distance. He breathed in deeply once again.
After his brother's destruction of the Bifrost, he had come to this distant planet, known for its restorative atmosphere and hospitable inhabitants that looked the other way and asked no questions.
He leaned his thin, muscular frame against the marble pillar beside him, the alabaster skin of his bare torso gleaming in the soft moonlight.
The screams still echoed through his mind, tearing at his insides. He had not dreamed of her in so long. That beautiful haunting gaze, that had once been his solace, had now become his nightmare, doomed to be a forever unattainable figment of his imagination.
Clenching a fist at his side, he brought it to his face and leaned into the pillar.
"You will be avenged," he muttered, furious determination lacing his words. The breeze rustled the thin white curtains around him.
"I miss you," her gentle voice whispered on the wind.
The rigidity left his body, and his palm opened flat against the pillar, as a pained sigh left his lips.
"And I, you," he whispered back. The soft hair blew into his mind, those blue eyes touching his core once more. He opened his own eyes and looked back out onto the calm sea, his mind returning to a long-gone past...
A raven-haired boy sat crouched atop the tall bookcase, clutching at his book and trying not to make a sound. His breathing was fearful and uneven, and his thin, pale hands trembled anxiously. He heard their footsteps move quickly past the shelf and on to the next corridor. He let out a shaky sigh of relief that was soon squelched by the thundering cry of the boy down at his feet.
"It's the little imp! He's up there!"
A crowd of boys came 'round the first, their mouths turning up in wicked glee.
"What's he doin' on top of the bookshelf?" one boy asked tauntingly.
"Come down, little bookworm!" another called out, shoving the wooden panels with one burly leg.
The raven haired boy lost his teetering perch and fell in a mangled pile on the marble tiles, the book skidding out of reach.
"We got him, boys," the leader of the little pack said, pinning the boy down with a food to the chest. The others gathered 'round and grabbed at him, picking him up and carrying him out of the grand library and into the courtyard.
"Let me go!" The scrawny boy tried desperately to wriggle out of their arms, only to be dropped with a thud onto the stone.
The leader came to stand by him once more, the wicked grin still plastered on his face.
"Still think brains are better than brawn, eh, paleface?" The group snickered.
The managed to get to his feet, and, drawing himself up to as full a height as he could, he took a step towards the leader.
"I am Loki, a prince of Asguard," he stated, trying his best to look intimidating. The leader gave a fake gasp of surprise.
"A prince? Oh I do apologize, your majesty," he mocked with a bow, and the boys hooted with laughter.
Loki frowned timidly.
"My father will hear about this," he said, trying to keep up his courage. The leader stopped smiling.
"Not if he can't find you," he said, and shoved his fist into the boy's gut. Loki bent over in pain, letting out a choked cry.
"Throw him in 'The Pit'!" the leader called to his little posse. Loki's eyes grew wide with fear.
"No! Please!" he cried, as the boys grabbed him by the arms and hauled him backward. And suddenly, he was falling, falling into a dark hole, landing painfully with a cloud of dust at the bottom.
The leader's head appeared at the top, peeking over the opening.
"Let's see your smart mouth get you out of that, your majesty," he called down, and with that the stone was rolled over the top, filling the little tunnel with complete darkness.
Loki started trembling, his eyes wide and filled with fear in the darkness.
"NO! Let me out!" he screamed, scraping at the tall walls of the abandoned well. "Pleaase!"
He screamed until his voice gave out, but no answering call came from above.
Taking a quaking breath, he squeezed his eyes shut, clutching at his sides as he slid into a heap against the cold wall.
"Please," he whispered into the darkness.