Nothing More Than Lies
"I wanted only to protect you from the truth." Odin's mumbled words may have seemed caring and intentionally good, but Loki could see the King's self-benefiting desires that tainted them, much like his decision to take the Jötunn child, an action that appeared to be one of compassion, but had an ulterior motive. Odin had kept Loki's true parentage a secret, not to protect Loki, but to protect his reputation and the reputation of Asgard. He had taken Loki from his birthplace not for Loki's wellbeing, but the wellbeing of the kingdom. All these years the truth had remained skillfully hidden from him. Yes, the grand secret had remained locked away in Frigga and Odin's minds, and never spoken of.
"Secrets," Loki scoffed, now in the privacy of his own bedroom. "Secrets are nothing more than lies." He paced the aimlessly around the spacious room, trying to come to terms with the information that had so suddenly been thrust upon him. Every time his gaze fell upon his bare hands, he saw blue. Deep, saturated blue, spread across his skin like an infection. Although Loki knew it was only his imagination playing cruel tricks, haunting him with the images he'd seen earlier, it still sickened him. He paused in front of the elliptical full-body mirror fixed to the wall, examining his appearance more carefully. He could see it now. He bared little resemblance to the rest of the family, with his jet black hair and bright blue eyes. I should have known, he thought, silently cursing himself for being so stupid.
When he became tired of pacing, he lay on his bed and stared blankly at the golden ceiling. His mind began to replay fond memories of his childhood, but with each pleasant memory came a dark cloud of truth. Up until this point, his life had been a lie, a dark secret skillfully twisted into a story of happiness, family and royalty. He recalled how Odin used to teach him and his brother about the kingdom, the Nine Realms, and the history of both. On one occasion, Odin made a comment that had remained in Loki's memory since.
"Only one of you can ascend to the throne," he had explained to the eager young boys, "but both of you were born to be Kings."
The comment had seemed encouraging at the time, only because the dark cloud of the secret had blinded him from the truth, preventing him from reading between Odin's words. Odin failed to mention that it was only possible for Thor to ascend to the throne, and that Loki was born to be a king, yes, but not a King of Asgard, but a King of monsters.
A light knock at the bedroom door dragged him from the depths of his memories and back to reality. "Loki?" the soft, comforting voice of his mother, Frigga, called out from the other side of the door.
Loki found himself questioning Frigga's compassion and unconditionally loving attitude. Was that a lie too? Was her kindness towards him no than a mere act put in place to make sure the secret remained a secret? "Yes, Mother?" he responded, his voice quavering hesitantly over the word 'Mother'.
Frigga opened the door only slightly, but it was enough for Loki to clearly see the worry on her face. "I was just on my way to see your father. Care to join me?"
Loki was filled with mixed emotions as he sat beside the bed where Odin lay in his unconscious state of Odinsleep. Part of him was filled with a fiery anger. He hadn't gotten the chance to finish his rant before Odin had suddenly collapsed. There was so much more he wanted to say, more questions he wanted to ask. Another part of him was filled with worry and uncertainty, much like his mother. Not even the burning anger could destroy the feelings of concern for his father.
"I asked him to be honest with you from the beginning," Frigga sighed, looking over at Loki with a look of honesty and sincerity. "There should be no secrets in the family."
"So why did he lie?" Loki asked calmly, pushing his anger and hurt aside.
"He kept the truth from you so you would never feel different."
There it was again, the claim that the lies were for his own good. Loki was no stranger to deceit. He was the God of Mischief after all, and what was mischief without a touch of deceit? But this deceitfulness was different. It wasn't used for a jest, it was used to manipulate his identity. It was a powerful tool, not just a toy, as Loki had often used it as.
If deceit is used for good, and lies are merely secrets, I shall endeavour to use these weapons to their full potential, thought Loki. He maintained the solemn expression on his face as a mask, hiding the wickedly scheming smile he was straining to suppress.
Much to his surprise, Loki was named King of Asgard in his father's absence. Though the news had been a shock at first, once seated on the golden throne, the feeling of power and control, he had to admit, was satisfying beyond his wildest dreams. With a newfound confidence surging through his Jötunn veins, Loki decided to pay his dear brother a visit on Earth. It amused him to see the Mighty Thor stripped of his power and glory. Supressing his grin, he transformed his royal emerald and gold attire into the dark, dreary clothes of a Midgardian, and made himself visible within the plain white room where Thor was being held.
"Loki, what are you doing here?" Thor asked, confused by his brother's presence.
"I had to see you," Loki replied quietly.
"What has happened? Tell me, is it Jötunheim? Let me explain to Father," Thor begged.
So many secrets, so many lies, thought Loki, trying his hardest to maintain his grieving appearance. Surely there is no harm in just one more.
"Father is dead."
Author Note: Written as part of The Hostile Takeover's Theme Writing Challenge for the theme "Secrecy".