Hey guys! This chapter is a lot shorter than its predecessor, so you can all breathe a sigh of relief! This chapter is more or less dribble about the trauma going on inside Loki's young mind. Sorry if you don't love it.
Sparki: I own nothing!
Sometimes, I wish that I had a different life. That I was someone else entirely, so different from the person that I am now, we may not even be able to exist in the same eternity.
There are nights, when the hour is late, and I am finally free from the bonds of life, that I find myself wishing upon every star I can see within the vast expanse above, that I could simply close my eyes, and when I opened them, all the pain, and all the darkness would just... disappear.
And it is in moments such as these, rare and far in between, that I catch a glimpse of myself. A glimpse of the person - of the boy - buried beneath the ice that seems to have frozen over my heart. I can see him sometime; inside, he still remains. But I have no way to reach him. So, most days, it is easier, and far less painful, if I simply pretend he does not exist.
As Loki sat upon the stone wall, he wondered if perhaps he was losing his mind.
It was easier for him to believe that he was. Bringing his knees to his heaving chest, he gazed down upon the darkened garden. The beautiful plants and flowers stood shrouded in shadows; the twisted trees were no more that strange silhouettes, looming against the night-time sky. From where he sat, they no longer seemed to very tall.
The wall was high – much higher, it seemed, now that he rested upon it. The dewy grass of the garden seemed very far away. However, Loki was no longer sure if he cared. For perhaps if he fell, he might feel pain. And perhaps pain might knock a little sense back into his muddled mind. Then again, if 'sense' had had any say in the boy's actions that night, he would not have climbed the wall.
The gardens near the princes' chambers were vast, and Loki would need not have taken such a trek as he had through the sleeping halls. But the gardens that grew outside the servants' quarters twisted and turned in a way that the royal gardens could only dream about. Besides, his own, more refined garden had no wall that he could so foolishly climb.
Unlike the higher gardens, this, the lowest was not private. Anyone was permitted to walk its path. So Loki should not have been so very surprised when a voice, young and sweet, broke through the night's silence. Upon the wall, the boy sat still, not wishing to be discovered at the late hour so far from his quarters. Far below him, a small figure, illuminated only by the pale moonshine, walked slowly, step by step, down the garden path. In the darkness, their golden hair glowed a ghostly gold. Loki leant forward slightly, straining to see the specter's face. But they turned away, so only their pale locks were visible.
But their voice, soft, gentle, rose above the darkness. Loki closed his eyes, and let the words wash over him.
As the moon
Kindles the night
As the wind
Kindles the fire
As the rain
Fills every ocean
And the Sun the Earth
So your heart will
Kindle my heart
Take my heart
Take my heart
Kindle it with
Your heart
And my heart cannot be
Kindled without you
Your heart will
Kindle my heart
Loki knew the song well.
One night, a dark night, so many years ago, it seemed, he had awoken, screaming and drenched in a cold sweat. All around him, the darkness crept ever closer, its wraith-like fingers reaching out the brush the little boy's streaming cheeks. Cowering beneath the bedclothes, Loki screamed again, his voice tight with terror. But even his desperate protest did not dissuade the shadows from closing in on the child.
All it took was the feel of her hand brushing his pale cheek, and Loki knew he was safe again. His mother held the boy close in her arms, and he could feel the beat of her heart, whispering into his ear the secrets of her love for him. As he closed his eyes, she began to sing.
The familiar words, hummed in such an innocent voice, soothed the boy's troubled thoughts for a moment. In the garden, the tiny figure turned. Caught in the light, Loki saw for the first time the girl's face.
Aila.
For one terrifying moment, Loki truly thought that she had seen him. But, as a gentle breeze blew through the leaves, Aila turned away, and continued down the garden path. All too soon, her light footsteps and soft words were consumed by the darkness. And Loki was alone once more.
Pathetic boy. Hiding from a child.
Loki closed his eyes. The all-too familiar voice hissed around his mind, blurring his vision, and causing his ears to ring painfully.
Or were you hiding from me?
At this, Loki eyes shot open. Anger, hot and heavy within his stomach, burned his throat and turned the blood that flowed through his veins.
"No," he snarled, in a voice he barely recognized as his own, "not of you. Never of you."
We will see.
"Mother... the monsters, t-they're c-coming..."
"Hush." His mother whispers, her gentle hands soft upon his small back. "Hush my darling boy. You are safe, my child. Safe and sound."
Loki holds tight to her body, his eyes shut tight against the darkness that threatens to swallow him. Just as he thinks he cannot hold back his cry any longer, his mother begins to whisper against his ear.
And my heart
Cannot be
Kindled without you
Your heart will
Kindle my heart
And he is still.
Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews make me grin!