Thanks for all the reviews! Updates are going to slow down some now that the weekend's over, so sorry in advance!
Anyway, more angst. Enjoy! :)
I don't own anything Marvel.
Dawn was approaching as Loki slipped as quietly as he could through the castle, furious at Heimdall's words. He wasn't sure what he detested more: the undeniable scorn in the gatekeeper's voice, or the fact that the man was right. If this didn't wear off in the next day or so… He shut his thoughts down once more.
The palace was still asleep, but as a precaution the prince kept his hood firmly over his head. He was grateful that this morning was not one Thor or some other warrior chose to wander out. He still lacked the energy to manage the magic of manipulating shadows, and his shape shifting remained completely cut off. While he was skilled in moving silently, another's presence might still have resulted in confrontation.
He worried himself with logical things like this on his way back, still keeping his mind off of earlier events. He had escaped, yes, but barely, and not yet to his chamber he was still vulnerable to seeing somebody.
He reached his room at last, pulling on the handle of the tall gold colored door. It opened easily and the prince walked in, exhausted. He turned a small corner near the doorway, which lead to the larger part of his quarters and thus his bed and desk. The prince knew he would get little sleep, but perhaps if he could drift off for only an hour or two, he could deal with everything the next day. Once again he acted as a coward and once again it hurt more than it helped.
Loki made the mistake of looking up as he dragged his tired feet around the corner. He froze. The prince had forgotten the most prized decoration of his room: his mirror.
When Loki was just learning how to work magic, he asked his father for a mirror to help him. The one covering his wall had been a gift, a gift he treasured. Unable at first to create true illusions, he would manipulate light in the mirror to create images there. He could make it seem like there was a bird fluttering around his room, or a snake in his bed, but all of this only in the world beyond the glass. Eventually he could tell whole stories in that mirror, making his childish games come to life. Using his wit and magic, he Great Aesir Loki would slay a terrible beast in his bedroom that threatened to tear down the kingdom. Over and over.
As he grew his skill increased, and he used the mirror to project images into his world, seeming right next to him but with no substance. A hateful and misunderstood teenager, many times he created illusions of his enemies and those he hated in his chambers. If the nonexistent figures dared taunt him, he drove his staff into their chests and watched their death as blood spilled over the floor. Of course, the blood did not stain; it did not even exist. But to the young Loki it looked real enough to satisfy him.
Reaching adulthood, of course, the prince could create such illusions anywhere, mirror or not. But the one is his room still held sentimental value, though he would never admit the fact to anyone. Still, often behind the reflective glass still stood the misfit child from many years before.
Not today though. Right now it was betraying him.
Looking back through the glass was a Jotun. It had blue skin and crimson eyes filled with hate or hurt, Loki wasn't sure which. It was skinnier than other giants, and much smaller. A runt, perhaps? Like other Jotun it was covered in symbols on its face and hands. The prince reckoned that there were probably more beneath its clothes, but that mattered little.
It mattered more that the Jotun was him, Loki. He recoiled as the thought hit him, gasping for breath and staring at his hands again. It was easier than looking at the mirror anyhow. Was it possible that it was just a curse? There were many powers in the universe, and surely one out there could change appearances, races even. Maybe the crystal happened to be that one, the one that could turn him into a monster.
Loki looked up again, stepping toward the mirror this time. That's what he was, wasn't he? A monster. The prince let out a cracked laugh, short and bitter. It was ironic almost. He had been called monster more times than he could count. It was a result of causing mischief, a cry that followed him as he'd ran away laughing from a mess he'd made as child, sometimes with Thor, though the name 'little monster' had always been directed at Loki. It was a label spoken coldly to his face in later years by those he'd deceived and harmed for their words against him.
He'd never believed it though. And now that Asgard had stopped saying it to his face- for he could never be certain about their hidden whispers- the prince found it to be true.
Loki touched his face where the skin was raised into some Jotun symbol, tracing the outline with a light finger. A half-circle pattern on his forehead. Lines coming down from his eyes. Small marks on his eyebrows. Curiosity nagging at him, he shed his cloak and looked at his arms as well. The color was sickening, he thought, but continued staring, transfixed. Patterns continued up to his sleeves, and the sapphire skin had become completely hairless and smooth. His eyes glowed scarlet even in the light of his room, and the prince noticed his ears had pointed slightly at the tips. Not like the dark elves, but not Aesir either.
The prince licked his lips quickly and breathed in. It wasn't so bad was it? Being a monster? He was still recognizable, was he not? Loki was not vain in his looks, so how could a little change in appearance be that bad? He shape shifted all the time, did he not?
No. This was more than that. More than blue skin and red eyes. All his life he'd been taught, every Aesir had been taught, that those features were the mark of monstrous beings with no soul and hearts made of ice. They would destroy everything if it benefited them. They could not love or feel the way Aesir did. They were monsters not only in body, but in mind as well.
Of course Loki knew much of this was no more than myth, twisted together from tales of battle and victory. But how could he change what he'd been told since birth? He couldn't.
Unable to look in the mirror any longer, the prince stalked to his bed, trying to maintain some illusion of dignity.
A dignified Frost Giant. I act as if such a creature exists. Loki thought, laughing darkly. How ashamed Asgard would be when they found out. The blue man was sure no one would be surprised, hated as he was among the Asgardians. They would snicker and gossip about how much this explained. So that's why the younger prince was always so strange. Oh, it certainly explained a lot. He clenched his fists.
But what about his father? Or, Loki corrected himself bitterly, the man he had always seen as his father. Did Odin know what his 'son' was? How did this happen? Some mistake? Was a true son of Odin living his life in Jotunheimr right now?
But the Allfather didn't look over things like that. He had to know, right? Loki didn't know which he preferred. If Odin knew of Loki's heritage, then it was an ultimate betrayal, an ultimate lie to keep that hidden from the prince for all the years he'd lived. But what if he didn't? How would the prince tell his father what he was? Think about the shame that would bring his family.
And either way, father does or will see me as a monster. He closed his eyes for a second, then glanced back at the mirror. The monster stared back.
"Get away." He hissed at it, using his magic to cut off the light in the room. Red eyes still glinted through the reflective glass. He closed them, blocking it all out. Maybe, just maybe, if he went to sleep then when the prince awoke things would be better.
So Loki laid sleepless in bed until the palace began to awaken, memories of the hours earlier rushing through his head.
When sunlight filtered through his window it seemed like no time had passed at all. Loki sat up and looked swiftly at his hands. Blue. His heart clenched as he grit his teeth. He was still a monster.
And now he had to face it, and figure out what to do. What could he do? He could make himself invisible to others through shadows, but for how long would his energy last? And disliked as he might be, eventually someone would go looking for him. He still lacked the ability to shape shift. He still lacked the courage to confront his father. The prince was stuck. He supposed he would just cower away in his room until a plan came to mind or his father came searching.
But it was not his father who came first, as the prince had much expected. As Loki headed to his wardrobe to find some clean and hopefully very covering clothing, heavy footsteps shook the floor. This took the prince by surprise, and he scrambled for his cloak, pulling it on with no time to run for the shadows.
"Brother! Are you okay?" Thor came bounding around the corner, a worried look on his face. "Heimdall sent note that you may need assistance." Loki felt a dagger of anger at the gatekeeper, but kept his voice steady, not facing his brother or the mirror.
"I need no assistance." The younger prince said. "Please Thor, I wish to be alone."
"Loki, what is wrong? You are acting unusual." He asked, concerned. "And what is this cloak you are wearing? Have you become deformed in some way?" The last time that hood had come out in the palace, it had been to hide the younger brother's punishment by sewn lips.
Loki cringed. He had been counting on Thor's ignorance.
"Yes. I am deformed, if you wish to put it like that, and if it will make you go away." Loki growled. "Please leave now." The blonde's eyebrow's pressed together at his brother's curt tone.
"What? Tell me what-" Thor's voice cut off and his eyes widened. "Brother what's wrong with your hand?" He reached for the blue fingers, which pulled away instantly.
"Nothing!" Loki snapped. "If you're done wasting my time, I must get going now." He whispered to himself and began to disappear into the shadow, but a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. Thor turned the younger brother around and pushed down the hood, eyes widening.
"I thought I told you to go away." Loki hissed, looking up at his brother with crimson eyes.
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