"Loki… " Even as he's sagging against his throne, Odin straightens up again.
And what of Thor?
Thor is still fighting, my liege.
Go to Heimdall and bring back tidings of the battle.
The guard hesitates for maybe half a second, but the tone brooks no argument, and he soon exits. With no more witness, the Allfather gives in to his old bones's protests and slumps in the royal seat; but he dares not close his eyes, even for a second: any moment of rest, no matter how restless it would actually be, could see him fall into the Odinsleep.
If the world was ending, he would face the Norns with his chin held high, like Frigga, like Thor, like… Loki? He shouldn't have sent this guard away, he didn't even know how his s-... how he died.
Oding jerks upright, sleep now blissfully elusive as the vexing thoughts nag at him. Trying to further stave off slumber, he starts to pace, as unseemly as it is.
How had Loki died? Had he tried to kill Thor, or had he helped the Thunderer up to the ultimate sacrifice? Had his son maybe returned to him, even has he left this life?
"Thor has won!" Odin startles, his thoughts having insidiously drifted off again, but the guard, the same as before, is too excited -or polite- to notice. "The convergence is ending, and the Prince is recuperating on Midgard. Heimdall has promised to send for him if he doesn't come back by noon tomorrow."
Crushing relief saps all his remaining strength, and if it weren't for the guard, he'd've fallen. "I thought I could… I could wait… But… My chambers..."
The journey seems unusually short and soon the heavy door creaks open. The incongruous sound penetrates his stupor and with it, the realization that he's been slipping too far, too fast, paradoxically and momentarily stoking his awareness. He makes it to the bed mostly under his own power as the door closes with a whine. Once sat, he presents Gungnir to the guard.
Swear to give this Thor upon his return.
No, my l-liege, I can't…
SWEAR!
The guard swallows, takes the spear, and, belatedly, kneels: "I swear, on my father's place in Valhalla."
Odin nods and finally, finally lays down, letting the magical barrier of the Odinsleep swaddle him, as his unexpected minder stays nearby on the ground.
Much later, a knock on the door wakes the guard and pulls at his own consciousness. Odin feels a glamour envelop the other man, the bed, and himself. His own voice booms nearby "Enter!", then the door squeaks open
My liege, Thor has come back and is asking to speak with you.
Direct him to the throne room.
Yes, my liege.
The door whines and raspes, then silence envelops the king, now alone. His only thoughts, as the trance claims him, are "that hinge needs oiling" and "Loki…"
Odin can hear and perceive many a thing in the Odinsleep, and yet, only the most grievous can penetrate the oblivion, and thus put him on the path to a hastened awakening. Thor's almost-death at the Destroyer's hands had been one, and now, Loki usurping the throne is another.
Or so he would have thought, in this peculiar, ponderous musing of the Odinsleep. True, his emotions run high, but so high and fast and far away, they are only distant concerns, as distant as his body, just out of reach, but not out of mind, anchoring yet confining him to the realm of the living.
The door finally scritches once more and here stands Loki, confidently holding Gungnir.
"You know, I tried, I really did. But the oaf didn't want the throne, he was only interested in going back to his mortal tryst."
Odin can hear the grin slowly forming around the next words: "At first I only wanted to be done with all of this, with this place and with you. But then I realized: this is my chance!"
The tentative grin blooms into a manic one over the too-taut features and arms outstretch as if to encompass the universe: "The throne is mine, all mine! I will make them see the errors of their ways to them all, Sif, the Warrior Three, even Heimdall. Oh yes, they will grovel and kneel before the true king of Asgard!"
The last few words reverberates in a stunned silence.
Loki bows his head, now looking at the spear in his hands as if it is a coiling snake ready to strike. The spear butts against the floor abruptly, upright once more, as Loki levels a poisonous stare at the king.
"Did you, Allfather? Did you ever concede to not being perfect? You must have, or she'd never have considered you a true king."
The former prince starts pacing, Gungnir's clanking rhythmically like a metal heart.
"Oh, she must have considered Thor a true king as well; after all, he was so changed and remorseful after his little Midgardian traipsing. Even now, he spouts nonsense about good men and great kings! *sniggers* But me, oh no! I let myself fall into the Void, devastated as I was by the magnitude of my failure to please you, but no, that's not enough. I was never enough for anyone, not even for her!"
His loud anger shatters on raw anguish, like waves on a rock.
"But that's not true, is it? I was her beloved son to the end, never an irredeemable monster. And how did I thank her for that? I only spat her love back in her face! I even directed her assassin to her!"
Beseechingly, Loki entreats Odin to see the true target of his wrath. The Allfather knows too well that his erstwhile sone only needs a mirror for this. "Oh, I didn't meant to, of course not, I only meant to send that monster to you. Oh, I wanted you dead, I wanted you suffering, I wanted…"
With a sharp bark of mirthless laughter, Loki realizes. "I now have everything I once asked for, don't I? Even a throne, and you at my mercy, with Thor in voluntary exile on Midgard. And I would trade all of it, even my freedom, for one more minute with her. To tell her she IS my mother, always was, always will be, even now, when - "
The wistful rambling escalates into bitter yelling, as Loki tries to once more drown out his distress. "I would even accept one minute to properly mourn at her funeral, but you couldn't even give me that. Even Thor, boorish as he is, let me express my grief, and you, you couldn't even give me that! You couldn't, you couldn't..."
Loki looks wrung out as he sits on the edge of the bed and once again whispers.
"No, you couldn't, could you? I was just a prisoner, no, worse, a stranger, who had irrevocably lost the right to call her Mother. I guess… you were right. I can admit that much. And… more."
Loki takes a couple of deep breaths, his voice now calm, level, and firm, as he locks all emotions away and picks up the frayed thread of his thoughts.
"When she came to see me in my cell, Lady Frigga told me that a true king admits his faults. I will honour this wisdom, as well as her sacrifice, by doing what she did to her last, protect Asgard."
Loki straightens up, leaving Gungnir next to the dormant king. "Speaking of which, I have traitors to deal with." The sad curve of his lips is belied by the minuscule glint of mischief in his gaze. "Oh yes, they will still grovel at my feet, and they will admit their trespasses against me, and I will have both my just revenge and this new oath satisfied. Maybe There is still something for me here…"
A new spell descends on the Allfather; then, with a squeal and a bang of the door, Odin is alone again, his thoughts a dizzying maëlstrom.