Chapter 5: Ghosts of the past

(1)Æsir: Nordic gods living in Asgard.

Time passed. Now the tribe had several plantations covering the surroundings and several houses could be seen flanking the land.

The people, had captured some animals to domesticate them and use them as farm animals. They had started with livestock.

Each family now cultivated their own farm and had everything to obtain sufficient food and live a comfortable life.

Sitting on the sand, in the distance, Loki watched them work the land, while their senses enjoyed the landscape and silence.

His nose tingled with the scent of the freshness of the fields and the breeze cooled his skin.

At his side, Stark daydream in a placid lethargy.

Near one of the plantations, Loki spotted, two children, running from one side to another across the field. They were chasing each other, probably playing some kind of Midgardian game.

They laughed while accelerated their career and suddenly, one of them (his brother, Loki guessed), noticing that the other was going to win, knock him down in a playful way. Both fell and lay with their backs to the sky. Loki, heard them groan in pain and then suddenly explode in loud barks of laughter.

The parents who worked in the vicinity approached the children still in pain and after making sure they were well, helped them to stand up.

The mother approached the boy who seemed the youngest, the same one that had knocked down his brother. She watched him for a moment and then, admonished him for his actions, urging him to be more careful. However, her look was not severe, as his son, she kept in her eyes a playful light, one that despite the adulthood, it seemed not to have disappeared from her face.

After the small speech, dismissing him, she placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

The face of the boy suddenly lit up and then running, he reunited with his brother and father, who this time, had also joined the games.

The mother saw him go away, turning her head from side to side with an amused smile. Finally, with a sigh, she met with the rest of the family.

Loki followed them with his eyes, watching them laugh and have fun in the sun.

A curious sensation made the mouth of his stomach ferment. There was something in that scene that made him feel disturbed, uneasy. His breathing accelerated and suddenly, he was overcome by the growing need to run, to escape from everything. Maybe if he could have moved his body, he would have done it, but since it was not the case, he forced himself to calm down, to shake off that suffocating sensation.

It wasn't like it was the first time he had felt this. Many times before he saw himself in a similar situation, and each time that happened, he forced himself to bury that feeling, pushed it away and thus continue with his life.

"You know exactly which emotion this is, and that's why you don't want to face it." Someone whispered viciously inside.

Ignoring that voice, Loki made a last desperate effort to banish his feelings, but this time, it was in vain. His treacherous mind began to ramble...

Unable to contain the force of his conscience any longer, Loki stopped fighting. He felt suddenly, dragged by a turbid sea of sensations that shook him, taking him from one place to another.

His thoughts, as if they had a will of their own, called the memory of those who had once called his family, appearing as ghostly images inside his head.

He waited for that reaction of hatred that came immediately after evoking their memory, and he surprised himself by not finding anything.

He saw them clearly as if they were standing in front of him, so strong, imposing and brilliant.

They looked at him directly, with eyes that seemed to pierce him, but he looked away. He did it out of fear, he realized, trepidation to find in them only disgust and disappointment.

But, it was enough of cowardice, he was tired of escaping. The time had come when he had to face his past, his fears. He had to stop fighting against an enemy that in the end was no one but himself.

Loki then, let their eyes meet and when he did, his family gave him one of the most resplendent smiles he had ever seen. Their mouths curved in a sincere gesture, without pretensions or judgments.

However, looking at them in detail, Loki could also perceive something very subtle. Behind that expression, there was a feeling similar to longing, a sadness that spoke of wistfulness and a deep-seeded longing.

A chill ran through him. He felt exposed, as if suddenly, he had been left naked in a vacant field, only with his emotions for clothes. As if with that smile, they had opened a door to look directly into him.

Memories then, assailed him from another time, one in which he had loved and had been happy. A time, where illusions were taken for granted and hate was not the predominant feeling. Moments, that made him remember, that in his heart, in the place saved for his family, there was once, something more than just an empty space.

Loki was dreaming, he was squirming in his bed twisting the sheets with his limbs.

He was in his room in Asgard, but his dreams took him far beyond the walls of the palace. They transported him to a desolate realm, an image of an empty world.

There was only ice around him and miles of snow stretched on the horizon.

He was alone, someone had abandoned him there, but he could not remember who. He had seen his silhouette move away in big strides, and he could feel a gut-wrenching desperation as he got lost from sight.

"Come back! Don't go! Don't leave me!" He had screamed in his mind.

In that desert, he lay there, without knowing how long, until the hunger made his bowels ache and a deep sadness made his eyes fill with tears.

He could feel the cold tearing him apart, but not from outside, the coldness was coming from inside of him. Where his blood was supposed to be, there was only ice.

"Come back, come back..." He kept repeating in his mind again and again, like a mantra, a plea.

"Comebackcomebackcomeback" Until the thoughts lost their meaning, until all that really mattered was that blinding whiteness, until he felt himself fading away, dissolving into nothingness, until...

He woke up drenched in sweat. A cold sensation spread from his stomach to his trembling limbs. Consecutive spasms ran through his body and his skin felt numb as if he could still feel the sharp snow and the glacial wind whipping him in the face.

He must have been screaming, because moments later the door to his room opened and quickly his mother sat next to him.

He told her his dream while sobbing in her skirt. Loki's heart ached. Frigga's hand was soft against his hair.

She seemed for a moment surprised by his story and then as if the understanding had reached her face, her eyes shone moved.

"Loki, please don't cry, it was just a bad dream. Nothing and nobody will hurt you. You will never be alone again, I promise. Even if I am not by your side, I will always be there for you. My love will be so great that it will reach you wherever you are, it will accompany you wherever you go, even in your darkest moments. My boy, I love you with all my soul, never forget that, whatever happens, never forget it. "

He smiled at her and then she rubbed his back and dried his face.

Loki never again dreamed of ice deserts again.

This had happened a long time ago. Why did he remember it now?

How long has he not allowed himself to thought about her?

He remembered her as if nothing had changed. He saw her beautiful and brave, with her eternal kindness and will of steel.

His mother... how he missed her...

And then he found it, there it was, hidden among some of the folds of his heart. The affection of his mother had accompanied him all this time, only he had been too blind and stubborn to see it.

His mental scenario again began to change...

Loki and Thor had sneak from one of the palace grounds. They had escaped, fleeing from the result of one of the pranks that they had played on their new tutor.

It was an innocent one, some small mischief destined to get them out of the boredom and tedium that lesson had brought.

Once safe, protected by the foliage of the garden, Loki relived the prank again, and Thor laughed, oh, how they both laughed. Strong enough to make their stomach hurt and their eyes water with tears.

When their laughter had exhausted, tired, they stayed there for hours lying on the grass, just enjoying each other's company.

A bird called far in the distance, with a long tinkling song and the fragrance of the flowers was a soft and soporific balm.

Time lost its meaning and nothing else in the world mattered, except the warm presence of that figure at his side. Loki found himself flooded with that feeling of security that the mere presence of his brother could provide, as if nothing bad in the world could touch him; as if when he was present, the world was an impregnable place, a fortress with no more dangers than being discovered in one of the new jokes that they had been planed.

In that state of contentment, Thor had interrupted the silence.

"Never doubt the affection I have for you, brother." He had said suddenly.

That took him out of his slumber. It was such a sudden phrase that Loki thought he had imagined it. But when he fixed his eyes on his brother, in his eyes he found a deep well of fondness, a look with an intensity that he knew was dedicated only to him.

Thor didn't say anything else. He must have found something in Loki that pleased him, because he closed his eyes again and rested his palms on the back of his temple, as he returned to his lethargy, humming softly.

Beside him, Loki froze, not knowing how to react to this sudden demeanor. There wasn't a hint of embarrassment in that phrase and the expressed sincerity reach him like a bolt through his chest.

Not knowing what else to do, he went back to lean on the grass. In his mind, still danced the words that his brother had said.

Thor had told him not to doubt his affection and Loki didn't. At that time, he had believed him with all the candid feeling of youth and the confidence given by a friendship not yet tined by resentment.

Loki had believed him, and if he was honest with himself, he still did.

The memories continued. Circulated through his mind, like pictures of sensations and colors passing in front of his eyes.

They were out of control, wild, like a parade of images, without order or meaning.

Loki was sitting under a tree, near the palace's training camp. He looked towards a fixed point, without paying attention to anything specific. In his brow, there was a deep groove and his hands held a branch that he was breaking, again and again, applying in each motion more strength than was truly necessary. Several other remains of branches were on the floor around him, already pulverized, the result of his effusive gesture.

Just Two months left before he could reach the age of majority, which meant that he could finally go to the same missions his brother was going to, the ones that had been previously denied due to its "dangerousness". That is why he had given himself the task of practicing, of becoming better. He wanted to silence all those voices that called him "weak" behind his back, he was going to show everyone how wrong they were.

That afternoon, he had been practicing with the sword. He knew it was his weak point, so he had devoted it special attention, training and striving to improve his technique.

However, his teacher seemed annoyed. He corrected him again and again and forced him to repeat the same poses, without even giving a clear direction to follow.

The lesson reached an algid point, when Loki confronted him, alleging his inability to teach.

The professor, offended, refused to continue imparting his class. When Loki demanded to know why, he simply pointed out, that someone like Loki, with such a thin and not very muscular build, so different from the other Æsir(1) of his age, simply did not have what it took to learn the art of the sword.

That had happened in the afternoon and it was late night when Loki was still in training camp, feeling sulky and humiliated.

In the midst of all his resentment, his father had found him. Looking at him for a moment, without preamble, he had given her a small engraved dagger.

"Use it well," he said. "Remember that one doesn't choose the capabilities that existence has predestined for us, but we can choose how we take advantage of those gifts that she has decided to grant us. I undoubtedly know, my son, how much you still have to give."

His father left as he had arrived, suddenly and silently, however, his visit had left him something much more important than just the dagger he now had in his hands. Smiling, he ran his fingers along the sharp edge and noticed with his touch the subtle runes that decorated his handle.

Loki had practiced with that dagger until he became an expert until he was the best thrower that Asgard had ever seen. But always, in each battle, he carried that first dagger, using it as an amulet, as a talisman of good luck. It was a reminder of what his father had said that day, a reminiscence that even at a time when he had felt weak, someone had thought he was strong.

Loki was overwhelmed. What was happening with his mind that at that moment began to think about them? Where did all those memories come from?

It was as if, right then and there, a veil of hatred had lifted over his eyes and those memories that his rancor had decided to erase, resurfaced again from a hidden and dusty place.

Nothing was different and yet everything. Loki felt warm, all over. There was nothing but this warmth, engulfing him completely, arising from within.

"I do not forgive them" Loki felt obliged to admit in a whisper.

There were still too many dark thoughts and old memories chasing him. His mind still couldn't free himself from the shackles of resentment of unfulfilled expectations, nor could he heal from his soul all that bitter disappointment.

However, he was also aware that his family had not always brought him pain, the bad did not erase everything good that he had ever lived with them. Hatred, it didn't imply that he couldn't also remember the love he had once had for them (the one he still had.)

Pain burned in his chest, but his heart was lighter than it had been in ages.

Loki didn't forgive them, but the future looked a little brighter now. He didn't forgive them, but maybe he would, someday.

Minutes passed. Loki closed his burning eyes and remained very still. His breathing wobbled and he just stood there in complete silence.

At his side, Tony awoke, stretching out his arms in broad gestures. But his motion stopped midway when he noticed Loki's expression.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked worriedly.

And then as if a valve had been opened, the words came out in spurts.

Loki told him everything. He told the whole chain of events that had led him to crash into the earth and as he had never done before, he referred to his fall and to his decision to let go.

He spoke of what he had just experienced and recalled his family, telling this time, the good and bad moments experienced.

He talked about his past and what he thought would be his future. Of his old life and of the many tangles that he had left unsolved. All those unfulfilled longings and feelings that were left into oblivion.

He spoke of what he wanted, all the time like in a kind of trance, a catharsis that did not allow him to leave anything inside.

Tony listened attentively, without interrupting, sensing that this was not the time for words. Something inside him told him that Loki just needed him to be there for him, to be heard, to offer his presence and support.

When Loki finished speaking, he let out a trembling exhale. A part of him relieved, a part of him still in pain.

Repeating his story, it felt as if he had torn off an arrowhead that had been buried in his chest for a long time ago.

The soft air floated over them and there was a comfortable understanding. That silence kept only to those people who share an intimate familiarity. That trust granted only to those who have a deep bond of friendship.

Tony, then, leaned forward into Loki's space, his eyes intent. Slowly, he reached out, gently, and swept Loki's hair aside as one might draw back a curtain, tucking it behind his ear. In doing so, his knuckles brushed his cheeks, and he let his hand linger there, in a comforting gesture.

Loki stiffened for a moment, but then, feeling the warmth of that hand, his body relaxed under that gentle touch.

So they lay there on the sand unmoving. A nervous warmth spread through him, and he felt a fluttering in his chest, like a moth beating its wings against a glass.

Loki's hair, long and undone, rippled behind him in the breeze and the sun shining imposing, in the distance, casting clear flashes that reflected in his midnight color strands.

The clouds above, mottled gray, ran lazily over the sky and a harsh light cast long shadows just below where Loki and Tony were sitting.

Suddenly, Loki felt very aware of everything that surrounded him, of the calm of nature and the comforting presence of the man at his side. He let the sounds wash over him and was filled with a deep, cleansing sense of peace.

He couldn't describe what he felt at that moment. A strange feeling crept up his spine. At the same time, it was familiar and completely unknown to him. It robbed him of all his thoughts and ideas, leaving him lost. He had no idea what was happening to him.

What emotion, in particular, had overcome him? It was hard to discern.

He only knew that he had been seized by a deep wistfulness, as big as the vast landscape that stretched before them.

His eyes met Tony's and then he found himself paralyzed, trapped in the depths of those unfathomable brown pupils.

Only with the sound of the wind to fill the silence, Loki lost the notion of how much time had passed, he remained fixed, as if captivated by some kind of charm.

There was a moment, a very fleeting lapse of something, in which Loki felt a deep desire, a kind of rapture, a longing that in spite of trying, he couldn't give a name.

But then, like a shadow resting on him, that desire was overshadowed by a paralyzing fear. He felt trepidation of his own thoughts, of seeing what was in the depths of his heart. He felt small and helpless in the face of a feeling so complex and intense that he thought, if he had given himself to it, he would have been completely consumed.

Loki then looked away from those bright eyes, and the spell broke.

Tony blinked too as if shaking off his trance, and then, lowered his hand from his cheek.

A thousand words flashed inside Loki, but none of them came from his lips.

"Thank you," Tony said suddenly, getting ahead of him.

"For what?" Loki asked confused.

"For trusting me" And then, a heartbeat later, he added, "For being my friend."

"It's nothing..." Loki said somewhat uncomfortably.

"For me, it's far more than nothing," Tony told him.

Nearby, the plantations stirred gently with a passing breeze.

When Loki spoke, it was barely more than a whisper. "For me too."

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A new chapter, hope you liked it!

In this chapter, I wanted to express that sometimes hatred blinds us to certain feelings and it takes a bit of peace and distance to see things in a different light. The fact of being on earth has allowed Loki to heal certain wounds and thus, to be able to see his family in another way.

With this, I don't want to deny all the injustices or marginalization that Loki may have experienced, but it is hard to believe that there have been only bad moments. I think Loki's family is full of gray areas and that's what I wanted to portray.

I hope I have been able to express it well, what do you think?

Hope you are well! As always, any comment or favorite is welcome :)