Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, Elder Scrolls, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Final Fantasy, Harry Potter, or anything else that finds its way into these pages. No disrespect intended, only homage, no profit made, only entertainment intended. If you're a fan, read it, if you don't like it, stop reading. Simple as pie.

Rating: M for Mature

Spoilers: MANY

Chapter Seventeen: Just a Mess

The rain starts to come down.

My hands start to shaking.

I'm scared of this comedown

That I have been waiting.

Anxiety creeps now.

No hands there to reach out.

I know that I'm a mess,

And you're just the person that saved my life.

- "Just a Mess," by Tones and I

Loki returned to the palace through a servant's entrance and slipped upstairs to his room to change for the coronation. He was horribly surprised to find Odin sitting on his bed. The old man patted the mattress beside him. "Sit," he said. "We need to talk."

"I didn't do it, Father," Loki said. "I confess I was going to, but I turned back."

"I know. That's not what I want to discuss. We need to talk about the future. And… the past."

Loki went and sat next to his father as bidden.

Odin gestured to the portrait on the wall. "Loghain Mac Tir," he said. "A controversial figure in Vanir politics, even to this day. Did you know he was born a peasant?"

Loki nodded.

"Peasant or no, his family line traced back millions of years, much further than many nobles. Do you know what I found at the start of it?"

Loki shook his head.

"Cyrus Mac Tir, a recent immigrant to Vanaheim from Asgard. Of course, all Nords in Vanaheim originally came from Asgard, it was a penal colony. You knew that, I assume?"

Loki nodded.

"Cyrus was sent as a prisoner as well, but he stood out among his peers because of where he started out. He took the name Mac Tir, you see, when he started his new life in Vanaheim. That wasn't his name in Asgard. Do you know what Mac Tir means?"

"Son of the Land."

"Exactly. Cyrus took it because he could no longer be the son of his father, King Pelagius Septim I."

"So Loghain Mac Tir… had the blood of the Divine Kings in him? Diluted, maybe, but still…"

"And that means so too do you," Odin said.

Loki hung his head. "You don't have to lie to me any longer, Father. I know who I truly am."

"You mean Laufey's son? Yes, you have his blood in your veins. But what I think you need to understand is that your mother was no Frost Giant harem girl. Divine's sake, lad, how do you think you came by your powers, or even your appearance, if your mother was not a Nord?"

Loki looked up. "I thought… I thought you gave them to me, somehow."

Odin shook his head. "No, lad. If I could bestow powers like that, everyone in the universe would be blessed with such things, and there would be no such thing as mortality. You take your powers from your mother. From Frigga."

Loki began to hyperventilate. "No. That can't be. Mother would never..."

"She was given no choice."

Loki jumped to his feet and began to pace. "No wonder she can't bear to touch me."

"Frigga doesn't touch you because she wishes to spare you the trauma of witnessing how you were conceived."

It took a few minutes for Loki to calm down and sit again. Odin put an arm around his shoulders when he did, as if to keep him there.

"How long have you known… about Cyrus?" Loki asked./span/

"Only this very morning. Auryen came to me and told me what you did, so I got curious and went digging. Turns out it was remarkably easy to find, for something so long buried. It explains why the Divines chose you for my heir. You're a Septim, at least more than anyone else alive these days, so you got their nod for King."

"Wait – what did Auryen tell you I did?" Loki asked.

"He told me how you unwound time and undid all the mistakes you made," Odin said. "I tell you, I could have used a power like that when I was starting out as King. Any King could."

"It's not really a safe power to use," Loki said. "I only used it because Time was already broken."

"I understand. Still, a man with a power like that would make a strong King for Asgard. And you were Divinely chosen..."

Loki's head whipped around so fast he felt something pop in his neck. "What?" he said, and reached up to rub it.

"Thor's coronation has been canceled," Odin said. "I intend to reschedule your coronation as soon as possible."

"Father, I – I'm not a King, I'm a coward."

"Being afraid is no sin, Loki. It's how you face your fears that make you a man."

"I don't face them, I run away!"

"You faced the three Dybbuk. The very essence of evil and fear, to which mages like yourself are most vulnerable, and you stood your ground."

"And I failed!"

Odin shook his head. "Success is not the measure of a man's worth. His resolve makes him a man."

Loki shook his head vigorously. "No, Father, I appreciate the fact that you wish to retire, and I understand the reasons why. But… I am not… healthy… mentally. I would not be a good King. I need help."

Odin nodded. "It takes strength to stand alone against the horrors of the universe, but it takes even more to admit that you cannot do it without aid. I will grant you the time you need to seek what help you can find. Just… try not to take too much of it. I may not have much time left, as you know."

"You still intend to put me forth as your Heir?"

"It is your right by birth."

"What about Thor? All this time, he has thought he would be King."

"I have already discussed it with him, and he is actually rather relieved. He was not so eager to ascend as he seemed."

"I have… many things to deal with, before I will ever be ready for the Throne, Father."

"Odin stood up. "Then I suggest you get started. I wish you well, my boy, and as I said to you years ago in this very room, we are here to help you in any way you need. You have only to tell us in what way we may help you best."

Odin left, and Loki left after him. He went to a smith and made a purchase from his own pocket, and went to the Sanctum, heading immediately to the room where the Dybbuk boxes were kept. He fitted them each out with his newly-purchased padlocks and made certain they were secure. Sorcerers. Such highly learned people, but they tended to be as logical as infants. Keep boxes filled with dangerous sentient entities unsecured in any physical way! See what happens!

"As soon as that was done, he went to Lady Eir in the Royal Infirmary and got her recommendation for a mental health provider, and immediately made a priority appointment. The Healer in question got him in straight away.

"So, Your Highness," the Healer said, taking a seat across from him in the cozy office, "what seems to be the issue?"

"I'm having difficulties putting a series of serious abuse situations behind me," Loki said. "I turned to skooma and random sexual partners to try and bury my feelings, but I can no longer hide it. I'm drowning, and I don't want to feel this way any longer."

"You've taken a great stride toward healing just by finding the strength to seek help," she said. "Tell me about this series of abuses. When did it happen?"

"The worst of them was a continuous eight-month string of abuse I suffered while a prisoner of Vanir pirates a little more than three hundred years ago," Loki said. "But that wasn't the first time I was abused. The first time I was five years old, and a servant took advantage of my curiosity and innocence and raped me."

"Five is very young. You remember this clearly?"

"Like it was yesterday."

"What happened to this servant?" the Healer asked.

"I couldn't say. The punishment for assault on a member of the Royal Family is beheading, but I honestly don't know whether it was carried out. It wasn't exactly your standard assault."

"I am sure your father would have seen justice was served."

"Very likely, but I don't know. And honestly, I do not care. The death of that servant solves nothing for me. The one positive thing about it is that he would be stopped from doing it again to someone else."

"How did what you experienced change you?"

"I lost my innocence. I could no longer pursue childhood joys. I could not play with toys, or make-believe… the only thing I had left to me were my pranks and mischief, and that took on a much darker edge."

"Explain."

"Well, instead of being playful, it became angry. Vengeful. If you slighted me, you were going to get pranked, and pranked hard. Like Lady Sif. She called me a Vanir dog and implied that even my mother didn't love me. So I cut off her golden hair and replaced it with black hair of which she could never rid herself."

"That's… quite a prank. It must have affected her life considerably."

"I would imagine it has. She certainly hates me, though I can't say she ever did like me."

"Do you think your experience as a child helped or hindered you when you had your next experience with abuse?"

Loki shrugged one shoulder. "I honestly couldn't tell you. That experience, or collection of experiences, was so outre that I cannot say how I would have been affected if I had lead an ordinary life with no abuse prior."

"How did you feel as it was happening?"

"Terrified."

"Tell me about the abuse. What happened to you during those eight months? That's a long time to be held captive, most sadists would lose interest long before then. What did you experience?"

"My captor had quite the imagination."

"Go on. If you can, please. Understand, I don't mean to make you relive the experience, but confronting the pain is a part of healing the wounds."

"My captor… the leader of my captors… was a Vanir with the power to control my mind with a kiss. With a kiss she could get me to do literally anything she wanted me to do, no matter how heinous, and I was powerless to defy her. The worst part is, my parents knew I was doing these things, and they thought I actually wanted to do them. But the truth is, some part of me knew all along what I was doing was wrong, was revolting, and wanted to escape. When I finally broke free of her power, instead of helping the other prisoners… I ran."

"And that preys on your conscience, I take it."

"Shouldn't it?"

"That's for you to determine. I can't say what your personal morality should or should not be."

He snorted. "Typical Healer. Carefully distancing yourself from anything personal or political."

"I find that it generally works out best that way for me and my patients. So you feel badly for leaving your fellow prisoners behind."

"Yes, I do."

"Then you do, indeed, have a conscience, which is a good thing. It means you are not a sociopath, which would mean you would essentially be beyond any and all mental help I could give you. It suggests you feel empathy, which sociopaths – and psychotics, most of the time – cannot feel. No matter how badly you feel, Your Highness, no matter how broken you may find yourself, you are not beyond redemption."

He nodded slowly. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."