ANGST AHEAD. Betrayal and abandonment issues abound.
8: Trust is Like Rome: Not Built in a Day, but Burned in One
The magic lesson goes fairly well, as first lessons go. Aaravos focuses mainly on theory, on the words and specific inflections in Ancient Draconic that work best with Moon magic. Loki learns the meanings of several of the more common words in moon spells, such as alucinati, deceptio, anima, lumen, mors, and nox, as well as the best ways to alter them for a specific purpose. Loki is, as one might expect from someone educated as a prince, a quick study.
"Loki," Aaravos starts, remembering that he really does need to tell Loki about the next part of the spell.
"Aaravos?" the dark mage calls out, voice thick. Aaravos rolls his eyes. Of course. Just his luck, this would happen right as he's trying to not hurt Loki again.
"Yes?" he responds, holding back his irritation.
"What is your plan?"
Aaravos's plan is to use the mage to escape, then free Loki. But the mage most likely means a plan for getting himself out of his own prison.
"What is your name?" Aaravos returns, half his attention on writing out an apology to Loki.
"...Lord Viren," the mage says.
Loki looks up at the sound of their name, only to see Aaravos's lips moving without any sound coming out. He is gone again. Loki tries to ignore the plummeting of their heart, barely soothed by the apology Aaravos offers.
"I will take this opportunity to sleep, then," Loki responds by writing, "When I wake, I shall take care of meal preparation. You need to focus on getting that mage to free us."
Aaravos gives Loki the softest smile he can manage while saying "Well, Lord Viren, the first step of the plan is for you to behave. Let them think you harmless, nothing more than an old magician. As far as they are concerned, the power you displayed at your arrest was a fluke."
"I am– I was– the High Mage," Viren snaps.
Every time Aaravos is surprised, he likes it less.
(Except for the occasional good surprise, like Loki's connection to the moon, but that sort of surprise is far, far rarer than the other sort.)
"I will need a few hours to think."
"Thank you. Sleep well, and sweet dreams."
"You've had hours already!"
"Did you think I did not also need to sleep?"
Loki hates to leave Aaravos, seeing him furrow his brow while speaking without sound, but they need their rest if they are to be of any value to their escape.
They go to the bedroom as the bed is much more comfortable than the converted couch. Despite this, they toss and turn for a while before they begin to get any indication they can fall asleep. As they drift off, they remember the night they shared the bed, the comforting weight of Aaravos's presence beside them. They had not known what a blessing it was at the time to have Aaravos holding their arm.
They cannot let go of the lingering dread that they will be alone again, even as they sleep. It seeps into their dreams, and leaves them with fitful sleep.
"Do your best to convince your guards that power was a fluke," Aaravos instructs. "I do not care if you must tell them outright that you overexerted yourself and are magically burned out for a week, or if you simply tell them that, since you are a dark mage, you cannot do anything without access to your ingredients and your staff. But you must convince them you are powerless, or you will be."
"Is that a threat?"
"It is a statement of fact." It is also a threat. "I will inform you when it is time to move to the next stage of the plan."
He needs to silence the mage so he can write properly, even if he cannot speak, to tell Loki of his plan.
When the mage is finally quiet, he looks for Loki first on the couch, then in the bedroom. If they are still awake, he can still tell them.
But they are asleep.
When Loki wakes, he has a sinking feeling in his chest. He cannot remember his dreams, but they were not pleasant, likely a remnant from attempting dark magic.
He levitates a book on moon spells as he works on his breakfast and Aaravos's supper, occupying his mind as his hands are at work. He puts together a hearty stew, more of a comfort food, and ladles out one bowl for himself and one for Aaravos.
He finds Aaravos in the library, reading, and taps his shoulder to pass the bowl to him. "I will be in the sitting room if you need me," he writes in the air.
Aaravos looks up from A Compendium of Magical Plants, Vol II. "Thank you," he writes on the notepad he now keeps with him at all times, accepting the stew. It smells delicious; Loki turned out to be a much better cook than he would have expected.
Tell him about the next step.
No! It is not a good time. He just woke up. He is feeding you, and you want to tell him you are about to leave him even more?
But I cannot betray him again!
I just need to figure out how to word it. That is all.
Aaravos gives Loki a warm smile, and turns back to his book, staring at the pages yet not taking in any of the words. Not that he needs to; he has this one all but memorized.
'I am going to need to cast another spell…' no, that will not do, it is not another spell, merely a continuation of the first…
Loki smiles back at Aaravos, patting his shoulder affectionately before leaving Aaravos to his tasks. Loki would like to be prepared for the next time Aaravos has his voice again, eager for the next lesson on the moon arcanum. He grabs a couple more books on his way out of the library.
He sits cross-legged on the floor of the sitting room, with five books open in a semicircle around him. He flips between the pages of each one, hopping from one book to another to connect one bit of information with the interpretations from another writer. He takes another sheet of paper and draws runes until he is sure he has them memorized and could draw them with his eyes closed. Every new spell, every word and rune and piece of history Loki learns, he feels ever more assured that this is where he is meant to be.
To connect with the moon in these simple ways feels like coming home, and Loki has not had the pleasure of such an experience or sensation in far too long. He hopes he can meet the other Moonshadow elves soon, as already he considers them a spiritual kin.
'The spell I used requires me to also lose my sight– again, temporarily, but it must be done to secure our escape.' No, that sounds too… brusque. Too uncaring.
'I do not wish to leave–' no, he can't use that one, he does wish to leave the prison, he simply does not wish to leave without Loki, and he can't say 'I do not wish to leave without you'; that would make it sound as if he is planning to escape and leave Loki imprisoned.
'I am deeply sorry–' Stars above Xadia, why is he so bad at this!?
Perhaps it would be best to just get it over with? Go to Loki and say something without planning? He overthought telling Loki of the first part of the spell, and that resulted in not telling Loki until it was too late, which resulted in Loki attempting dark magic–
-Aaravos does try to learn from his mistakes.
He takes a deep breath, setting his book aside. Part of him wants to continue delaying, to wait for his voice to return, wait until he knows what he will say. But if he does not tell Loki now, perfect time or not, he is beginning to fear he never will.
Loki traces his fingers along the illustration of Moonshadow elves participating in a monthly ritual. If he and Aaravos ever do escape this place and go to Xadia, it might be best if he blends in with the locals. Better an elf than being mistaken for a human.
It is difficult to shift into a form he has not seen in person, but then again, it seems that the Moonshadow elves are not so different from Startouch, and he has seen Aaravos. Still, perhaps he should start small, with an illusion rather than a full shift.
First, the hair. He shifts it to be shorter and silver-white. He casts an illusion for the horns, deep purple with teal braces. His ears grow pointed, while he uses an illusion for the face paint and clothing. He chooses mage robes, like Aaravos, but tailored like the moon mages he sees in the book. He conjures a mirror, and enacts a few small changes to the structure of his face, just to complete the change. The nose is always the hardest, but surprisingly important when determining an overall look.
Ah, he almost forgot the eyes. A simple shift changes them to a greyish violet. Loki smiles with pride at the accomplishment. He barely looks anything like his aesir form; he shall have to remember this in case he would like to shift again.
Aaravos concentrates on breathing deeply as he makes his way to the sitting room, running through what he needs mentally.
Notepad? Yes, here in my hand.
Pencil? Yes, there it is, behind my ear.
What do I need to tell Loki? That I need to do another part of the spell very soon, and this will take my sight to the other side of the mirror as well.
Breath? In, out, in, out.
Hands? He notices his hands are sweating, and wipes them on his robes, placing them behind his back just to have something to do with them.
Eyes? Hm? What?
Aaravos presses one thumb into his right eyelid until it stops twitching. Damn that nervous tic.
He pauses for a moment at the door frame, takes several deep breaths, pulls a smile onto his face, and steps into the room.
A beautiful, and hauntingly familiar, face looks back at him.
The blood runs from Aaravos's face. No. No. How could he be here? He– he should be dead by now, he should not be here what is going on–
He spins and runs from the room, runs until his mind catches up with him and reminds him that Loki is a shapeshifter–
-but that does not explain how Loki found that particular shape.
He puts his back to the wall and slides down to the floor, breathing shakily.
Loki turns with a smile at the sound of the door. Perfect timing! Aaravos must miss the sight of another elf, and-
Aaravos stares at Loki with wide, almost fearful eyes, then turns and runs from the room.
It is not perfect, by any means, but it cannot be that bad.
Loki takes a moment to dispel the illusions and shift back to aesir before running after Aaravos. He finds the elf sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall just outside the room. Loki holds out his hands hesitantly as he crouches down to Aaravos's level. Aaravos's breathing comes in short inhales and shaky exhales. "I do not know what happened, but I am here, Aaravos. You are safe," he writes, still holding out the other hand for Aaravos to take if he is so inclined.
Aaravos looks up, eyes flashing in a brief moment of anger– you betrayed me!- before he remembers this is Loki not Fial, and Loki has not hurt him.
Slowly, he reaches for Loki with one hand, fumbling for his notepad with the other. The notepad is gone, though, as is his pencil, and so he cannot explain. Instead, he only looks at Loki and mouths, 'I'm sorry.'
Loki sees as Aaravos looks for the notepad and realizes he must have dropped it in his shock. He still does not know why Aaravos was so shocked to see him, but that is unimportant for now. First, he needs to make sure Aaravos can express himself should he wish to.
Since Loki does not wish to let go of Aaravos's hand, he uses his telekinetic powers to bring the notepad and pencil to them. They float to Aaravos, bobbing almost cheerfully in midair as Loki waits for Aaravos to take them, perhaps in an attempt to make him smile.
Aaravos's hands shake as he takes the notepad and pencil from the air, nodding to Loki in thanks. He flips the notepad open and begins to write, looking up at Loki almost every letter.
Every time he looks up, he still sees Loki. Only Loki.
His letters are shaky and wobble all across the page, like a child's handwriting, but he eventually manages to write, "I apologize. I did not mean– to startle you. I, I… old memories, now. They should not still affect me."
Loki smiles sadly, reaching up to brush a few errant hairs out of Aaravos's face. "You need not apologize. Not ever, not for that. Memories can be a potent poison. If anyone should be sorry, it is I, even if I do not understand what went wrong. Clearly I brought something painful to the surface."
Aaravos sucks in his breath, pulling back slightly when Loki touches his face. His ears heat in embarrassment, because I should be able to control myself better than that!
"It was a long time ago. I…"
But he can trust Loki, can he not? He has already told Loki of so much, so many personal things. Ziard. Cassandra. The dragons. He can trust Loki with this as well.
But… For a moment, he sees Fial again, standing among Aaravos's books in Aaravos's sitting room, in the prison where he should not be.
That was not Fial, that was Loki.
"You reminded me of someone, that is all."
He only wants to forget Fial again. He nearly did, in the last centuries. He thought he had forgotten him.
Clearly Aaravos does not want to talk about this, and as much as the curiosity burns, Loki can try to respect that. "I understand. We need not dwell on unpleasant things any longer." Loki stands, offering Aaravos a hand up. "The floor is so uncomfortable, and not a worthy place for an Archmage to rest."
Aaravos hesitates a second, staring at Loki's hand without seeing it before taking it and allowing Loki to help him up.
Loki– Fial– LOKI.
He half wants to tell Loki everything, tell him what happened. But he cannot.
The last person he showed such vulnerability to betrayed him.
Loki is not sure how to help Aaravos now. Aaravos has helped him so much and now that he seems to be struggling with a painful past of his own, Loki does not know what to do. It is absolutely infuriating.
Perhaps a distraction. Loki can show Aaravos what he has learned. Pulling Aaravos by the hand, he leads Aaravos to sit in one of the chairs. He bends over to his notebook, glancing at the runes to make sure he remembers them correctly.
He draws the rune in the air, concentrating on the image. "Partum papiliones," and from the rune erupt a hundred tiny fluttering butterflies made of silvery light. They do not stay for long, dissipating into sparkles as soon as they touch any surface, but they make for a magical sight for a few minutes.
Aaravos smiles happily at the butterflies, and at Loki's progress in moon magic– then his smile falls.
Fial, conjuring thousands of sparkling butterflies for Aaravos's birthday, butterflies they danced through for half an hour until Fial's skin sparkled as bright as Aaravos's–
Aaravos realizes his eyes are stinging, and swallows hard. Loki, not Fial. Loki. Think of Loki.
"Good job," he manages to write.
So… that did not work. Aaravos seemed happy for a fleeting second, but it is clear that whatever bothers him is not something he can be easily distracted from. Loki sits in front of Aaravos on the floor, looking up at him, pleading with his eyes for Aaravos to let Loki help him the way he helped Loki. "What can I do? What do you need?"
I would kill for you. I would sit with you in your pain if that is what you needed. You would do the same, I know you would, just let me.
Aaravos looks from Loki to the words, and back. Eyes still on Loki's, he starts writing.
"I… I need to tell you something. The spell. My plan." He hesitates, searching for words.
This is not where Loki was expecting their conversation to go, but it is clear that it weighs on Aaravos, and Loki is grateful to be getting some answers about Aaravos's plans. "Okay, I am listening. What is it I need to know?"
He is sure that he can handle whatever Aaravos needs him to do. Perhaps now, Aaravos no longer underestimates him, and Loki can help.
"I need to do the next part of the spell soon," Aaravos writes, "within the next day or two. And…" Oh, this is the hard part. "And it will take my sight to the other side of the mirror as well," he scribbles, hoping beyond hope that Loki will only glance over the words and not truly read them.
...wait… what? Loki reads over the words again. "I do not understand… You have already established communication with the dark mage, why do you need to send your sight over as well?" He does not like the sound of this, Aaravos is tearing his senses apart all in the pursuit of freedom. What if he cannot get them back?
Aaravos closes his eyes for a moment, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. "The mage can no longer access the mirror, but I still need to be able to see him, to ensure he carries out my plan. I… do you not see? This is the only path to freedom, the only thing I have tried that did not immediately fail. I must do this."
Loki frowns. Clearly he misunderstood what the plan was. "I thought you need only convince the mage to help us. Now, there is another plan to contend with? Do you not think this is too much risk? Too much to be placing on a human? What does this involve on the other side?"
Aaravos looks sharply away. "Convincing the mage to help was but the first step. The end goal is freedom, and no price is too high for that. The mage will do whatever I ask until we are both freed. I am sure of that."
Whatever Aaravos asks? Loki is sure that Aaravos can be quite convincing, but this suggests a level of devotion that Loki is… uncomfortable with. Three possibilities run through Loki's mind, none of them desirable.
Aaravos used some sort of spell on the human to manipulate him. This is unlikely, since Aaravos assured Loki just the other day that there were no such spells.
Aaravos is in some sort of intimate relationship with the mage, and these promises are of a loving sort… Loki does not wish to think about that.
It is not freeing Aaravos that the human is so eager to do, but whatever Aaravos has promised in exchange for freedom, something very valuable. Loki worries this cost may be too high.
"I cannot say I like the sound of that… what have you promised him in exchange for freedom?"
"As of yet? Power. He wishes the other human leaders to hear him. He wishes to rule."
And Aaravos has dealt with many humans, and elves for that matter, with this same desire over the millennia. He can handle one more.
Loki likes the sound of that even less. What happens if Aaravos creates a monster he cannot then rein in later? Loki knows the danger of a man that craves power above all else. He chooses instead to ask a different question, knowing better than to cast moral doubt onto the person that will supposedly give them freedom.
"And how will this mage free us? If he has not already, then is he capable?"
"Not yet," Aaravos responds. Knowing this will not be enough for Loki, he adds, "The key is my caterpillar. It will take me to the other side, then from there, I will break the spell on the mirror and– what is wrong?"
Loki can feel the blood drain from his face, a sinking feeling in his chest. He blinks slowly, processing what he just read. Oh, as if the loss of Aaravos's senses and attention were not enough, now this.
"It will take you to the other side? And not me? You would leave me here?"
Aaravos stills. "No. No, I would not leave you. I would remain near the mirror until I could break the spell on it. I would, I…"
There is a difference!
Unbidden, an image of Fial's face comes to him. "I did what I had to, Aaravos. I did not betray you, I only remained loyal to Xadia first."
No. This is not the same!
"And what if you cannot break the spell? You have your freedom, and you would leave me to rot until you finally get around to coming back to me? What if you cannot get to the mirror? WHAT IF SO MANY THINGS AARAVOS."
Loki stands, backing away from Aaravos with tears in his eyes. Just like Odin, throwing him to the side until he could be used on Jotunheim. Just like Thor, never coming to see Loki in prison for over a year until he needed something. It is happening all over again and Loki is a fool for thinking it would be different this time. "All this time I thought we were in this together. But… I am just an afterthought to you. I cannot believe I thought you were different."
Aaravos shakes his head helplessly, knuckles whitening on the arms of his chair before he forces his fingers apart to take the pencil up. "I am an Archmage! There is nothing I cannot do! I will break the spell, Loki, I swear on the stars you'll be free! We are in this together, I swear! We will both be freed!"
"You do not know that, Aaravos, yet you would leave me behind on a chance." Loki conjures the metal rod from Nilfgaard. "You are right, though, we will both be free. Do you know what this is? Have you even bothered to pay attention to what I have been doing?"
"Metal…?" Aaravos asks uncertainly. It looks like metal, but the way Loki said it he knows it is not simply metal.
"It is a rare metal alloy called adaranium from a planet called Nilfgaard. I was experimenting with it one day and I realized that it amplifies with my magic in such a way that I can cut through the barriers of this dimension and be free. However, it is only enough to take one person through, there is not enough of it to get the effect we need to take both of us, so I have been looking everywhere for a metal that has the same properties." Loki can feel the tears running down his cheeks, and he does not care enough to wipe them away. "I could not leave you. I wanted to find a way to get both of us out."
Aaravos feels so strange. Loki stayed for him. Loki waited for him. Loki did not want to leave him.
And… Loki believes Aaravos is planning on leaving him.
...and Loki is crying.
"We will both get out!" Aaravos writes before standing. He reaches toward Loki. "Please–"
Loki recoils from Aaravos's touch. Now he is scared, because now Loki holds the cards. Loki could leave any time he wants, but Aaravos has to wait. "You are right that we will both get out. You have your way, and I have mine. Whatever partnership we had is useless now."
Aaravos drops his arm, looking down. He hates this, hates seeing Loki hurting.
A small, selfish part of him wants Loki to stay, but that– there is no reason for this. Practicality would dictate that he tell Loki to leave, then Aaravos needn't free him and it is less bother for them both. But he does not want this, he wants Loki to stay with him.
Before he can regret it, he writes, "THEN GO!" stabbing the pencil so viciously into the paper that the paper tears and the pencil point snaps off. He spins angrily, hating the tears forming in his eyes.
This is what he expected, right? This is what he was guarding his heart against all along. So… why does this hurt so much? He thought… he supposes it does not matter what he thought.
Aaravos has his back to him, so Loki directs the floating letters to appear in front of Aaravos. "Goodbye, Aaravos, and good luck."
He channels his magic through the adaranium, feeling it spark in his hands, enough energy to carry him home. Without another word, he vanishes.
When he opens his eyes, he is standing on a grassy hill, with bright blue skies above and fluffy cumulus clouds. A breeze ruffles his hair, and his first thought is that it feels so good to get fresh air. Aaravos would love this.
It will be hard to forget him, but Loki has to forget him. Even if he could track down such a small dimension, if he were to go back, he may never get out a second time. The adaranium in his hands is charred and useless. Scowling at the useless hunk of half-melted metal as if it personally offended him, he chucks it as far as his strength can manage.
Loki's knees crumble under him, and he sobs into his hands. He can feel the familiar energies of this world, he is back in his universe. At the moment, he could not care less what planet he is on. So long as its inhabitants stay away from him so he can mourn the friendship he never really had.
Aaravos sees the glowing letters appear, but they are too blurry to read.
He does not need to read them. Loki is leaving.
The letters vanish, and Loki is gone.
Aaravos collapses, no longer bothering to hide his tears. Loki is gone. Loki is gone, forever.
SORRY