Loki - Thor1,2 & Avengers

Lies, Fools & Trickery

Slimy things;

the words I've told,

coiled around

you're alcohol-addled mind.

Yet you cease never

to surprise me

with your stupidity.

The ideas you bring

to the table

they alone could bring

you to your doom.

With that in mind,

dear brother,

why do my lies hurt you so?

When it is your stupidity

that brings you low.

.

.

.

O = C = O

.

.

.

Loki Laufeyson could never truly understand the genuine foolishness of his brother's actions. Forgiveness, for instance.

Sitting now on the throne of Asgard, having shifted just seconds ago, he couldn't help but taste the greatness of his clever deceit. Yes, of course, Thor would get suspicious. Eventually. With time, given how slow his 'brother' was. For now, he was allowed to curl his lips in a Cheshire-cat grin, as he watched the god of thunder turn around the corner. Probably off to see his precious Midgardian.

There would always be the issue of what would he do if Odin himself found out. However, currently, the king was far from this realm, dealing with other things. As always. Plenty of time for royal duties, but so little time for his family.

'Tch, family,' Loki thought, miserably.

As far as he was concerned, his family had died the day that Frigga's soul had entered the world of the dead, the world of the afterlife. He shut his eyes, melancholy bringing him close to tears. Oh, what a lonely thing it is, to be the prince of lies and god of trickery. He could lie to everyone, everyone, save Frigga. But she was dead. And that left himself. Him, who he couldn't deceive if he tried.

Of course, there was Thanatos. Speaking of which, he was in deep shit right about now. He'd failed to bring Midgard to their knees, was unable to bring the tesseract - not that he planned to give it to the brute anyway - and only succeeded in killing off the Other's race.

'Bravo, Loki. You've really done it this time. This is far worse than that time Thor insulted the giantess,' he berated himself, before looking around. 'Now... how to sort out this mess?'

"Prince Loki?" a small voice asked him. It couldn't have belonged to anyone older than an adolescent and likely a girl. A servant perhaps? Wait- oh, dear Hel.

He stood up, glowering at the female servant in front of him. She was dressed in plain, white clothing, nothing much to be proud of, like most low-class Asgardians, with a nervous look on her face. She should indeed be cautious, he told himself. After all, no one would give out his secrets. He stepped down from the throne, peering into the girl's eyes. Nothing special. Brown, mottled with specks of honey and fear.

"This stays between us, am I understood?" he asked, with a low hiss.

She nodded, shaking a little. Then, she averted her gaze, looking towards the smooth, polished floor instead. It was perhaps, less cold than the prince was at present and a lot less intimidating.

Loki pondered about the situation for a while, measuring the girl with his gaze. Should he leave her be? It was unwise, to leave a potential snitch free. Yet, it would cause chaos within the castle if the young creature was to be found dead on the floor of this palace. He would need to tread carefully - a misstep would send him right back to prison, or worse, to eternal suffering. He'd been warned about this by the Other plenty of times... he did not need a repeat of what had happened back then.

After what had just happened, the last thing he would have expected was to find himself smirking. However, he couldn't help it. The irony of him being the fool for once; letting his guard down, in front of a mere servant. A girl that could end his days.

"Who are you?" he inquired, after a while. "What are you called?"

"A-Alatea, they c-call me Ah-Alatea," she stammered, curtsying a little clumsily, for she almost ended up tripping over her own feet.

"Hmm..." Interesting name. He could swear he'd heard it elsewhere, during past ventures onto Midgard. Spanish, or perhaps Brazilian in origin, he could swear. Some nonsensically religious name. Gods don't exist, he'd learnt that. But back to the name, that name. It had meant truth, didn't it? "Do you believe you are worthy of such a name, my dear Alatea?" Smoothly as he could, he then asked, "or are you willing to go against everything that it is worth and lie...?"

She blinked owlishly as if confused. Sweet, innocent confusion. She didn't even know what her name meant! What was the purpose of Midgardian names then, if the parents who dare bestow then upon their kin didn't even know their meaning, or cared to tell their child of it?

He reached out to the young girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but stayed put, holding eye-contact now. Clever her to be wary.

"My dear Alatea, what if I told you that you have a chance for greatness?" he whispered carefully, before tilting his head a little, looking past her shoulder. Thankfully, the coast seemed clear, no soldiers, or intruders in sight. No one was in on this little secret.

"R-really?"

"I could ensure that you wouldn't have to serve again, like this. That you wouldn't have to shy away or bow down to anyone," he promised, emerald green eyes, serpentine eyes, peering into her's, right through her, right into her soul. A mere Midgardian would be easy to lure in.

"N-no...?"

"All you have to do is to do as I tell you..."

Perhaps this little intrusion, perhaps the fact that she'd found him out, isn't such a bad thing after all. More naive than Thor himself, she was as perfect a puppet as he had been to Odin, all these years. Now and only now, would he be able to change that. For this girl knew what happened around the castle and she would surely know the truth. And information brought power. Power over Odin. Power over Thanos.