Silver and Scales
Chapter Thirty-Four: Circling the Drain
Loki's light eyes searched the heavens from behind the eight foot window along the wall of the bedroom chambers. He had dressed down from his green and gold armor the moment he had passed the threshold of the door frame. The moonlight, bright and beautiful as it was every night paled his chest and forearms as he leaned against the window pane. In his hand was a full glass of something that he had picked out of a full drawer of wine. The name brand meant little, just as long as it provided the proper numb feeling to stop the excessive thoughts that burrowed into his consciousness.
The emblem of his gaze was centered upon the Bifrost, toward Heimdall's Observatory, but his mind was elsewhere. He didn't need answers to his questions as to why Vyperia had reacted so out of character. Loki had rifled through their conversation at dinner repeatedly; he understood that she hadn't fully grasped the gravity of his intentions. She feared for his life and for hers. While she always seemed to be wrapped around his fingers—ever present to bend to his will whether it was dangerous or innocuous—Loki knew, deep down, that he didn't want her to leave him. It was out of a child-like need that he wanted her to stay with him.
She would desperately fall in love with him all over again if he wiped her memory and started anew. Would he fall for her as well, as hard as he had done when they fought together on the battlefield? Would the same spell come over him when he saw that crooked smile on her face? Or would he simply turn his back on her like the other maidens who crossed his path?
Loki turned his gaze away from the Observatory to peer down at the swimming amber liquid that swirled in his glass.
He solemnly regretted what he had said to her at dinner. Loki felt the same stirring of anger and jealousy that had always plagued the inside of his character when she had defended the Frost Giants—their home… If she was so loyal to him, it was her duty to step away from Jotunheim and let what should happen become apparent.
Yet even as he thought of this, even as his eyes smoldered at the thought of Vyperia helping the Jotuns in their time of need, he doubted that she ever meant to take their side. Wasn't his duty as king, too, to hear his wife's outbreak about justice? Perhaps he had acted so rashly, and now he solely favored her words over his.
He wouldn't stop it, though. Loki intended to have Thor killed. Jotunheim would slowly rip apart and kill the Frost Giants, then Odin would see it clearly as he had never done before. Whether he was of the Asgardian heritage or a Jotun, Loki intended to keep what was rightfully his…one way or another.
Loki inhaled a deep sigh and raised the glass to his lips.
He had tried to sleep. Certainly, he must have closed his eyes several times to have that slumber that was favored by all ages of Asgardians. Yet, even as he would, he found himself searching the minds of others around him for the one voice that would grant him eternal bliss. It was always Vyperia.
Maybe she had no idea of how much affect that she had on Loki, but words couldn't describe the strength that she gave him. Why else would he have led her to his destinations? He didn't require her presence at Jotunheim to confront Laufey. Easily, he would have walked into Laufey's temple with nothing but determination on his palette, ready to strike a deal. Yet, he took her with him. He didn't need her to be beside him when he confronted Heimdall, but still, Vyperia was there to witness it.
Loki frowned.
What was so frustrating was that he had his entire life shatter in front of him when he learned the somber truth about what he was. His conflict was a matter of trying to prove to Odin that he was worthy of the throne, especially since Thor refused to take it. It was his right. Loki didn't need his family anymore; he could rule Asgard with nary a tear in his eyes if his whole kingdom disappeared before his very eyes. This was a delusion, of course. Loki loved Thor, but what would anyone else do with that much pent-up rage and bottled jealousy? Bite his tongue, no…
Loki loved his mother—well…Frigga wasn't his mother. That much was true. Yet she was always the one out of his two parents who treated him as an equal; so he had no qualms with her. It was her love that kept the Odinsons together when the All-Father favored Thor unequally.
And…
Loki felt the familiar tension in his stomach as he thought of her.
Vyperia's love as well…She, too, meant so much to him. Yet he treated her as if she was some common servant girl, especially in the dining hall. Why would a man who holds his lover in the highest regard treat her so badly?
This troubled him as well. His pain was great, and she sought out to help him as much as she could; and he would turn her away when she came too close to solving his problems.
Loki drank from the glass again.
He hadn't considered the array of emotion that swam within him. Most of the time, he shoved them away like mere parcels of news that didn't require his attention. Emotion could kill a person without having so much touch them. Loki considered this.
Grief, anger, jealousy, pride, ambition, heartache…
Those were the strongest of feelings.
How did Vyperia keep so calm and collected whenever he caused her grief? When she was angry? When she was heart-broken…
Loki's mind raced. He knew exactly how broken she was at the moment. He had heard her cries as he had walked away from her. He had pursued her thoughts when Loki had settled into the bed. Even more so when he had seen the emptiness at his side when he had turned to look at her.
It is he who gives me stress.
There is nothing wrong with him.
Loki's eyes furrowed as he somberly recalled her echoed words to his mother—to Frigga. They haunted his thoughts, though he could never admit it openly.
You gave that responsibility to a young girl…you knew how much it was killing me. Then to see his face when I told him…
Loki took the glass to his lips once more…
I don't enjoy hurting him.
He uttered another sigh, one of deepest remorse. When he thought that she could understand him less of all, it was Vyperia who understood everything about him.
Never have I felt so angry.
Would she forgive him? She would ask for his forgiveness, and was she not the better man to step forward and admit that she was wrong? Would she be able to see past his apathetic appearance and know that he was truly sorry for what he said? This burdened him. Loki scorned himself as he considered just how much of a hold that she had on him.
He had prided himself in the mannerisms and the power that he had over the servant girls and the maidens of the hold. Loki was the god of mischief, and he would always tangle in the emotions of the heart-broken girls and boys of the castle in his youth. They would feel so secure…
Loki's silver tongue proceeded in its reputation, but what would break the hold that Vyperia had on him? There were so many things that could be wrong with her! She was cunning, scornful, and possibly a hypocrite! The beauty that she had was a constant heartache in the eyes of Man on Midgard. No, wait. That's not a bad thing…
Loki looked out the window as he felt his stomach turn…
She was beautiful like his mother—no, not mother, Frigga…and just as patient. A gentle spirit…Wasn't that how the Warriors Three described her? Vyperia was usually calm, and yet there was fire that always roared inside of her. Maybe that's what he liked about her. What anger that he could rise from Vyperia was something to be valued; very rare was she truly enraged.
What more is there to say? What else can I do? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?
Loki smiled slightly.
What little effect I have on you!
She was wrong, of course. She meant a great deal to him. He granted her the frustration. It was hard for her to distinguish if he was playing with her emotions for a simple fiefdom (because he took great pleasure in doing so) or if he was being sincere. In fact, almost everyone had that little problem. Loki took small pleasure when that thought crossed his mind.
He was half-serious when he had propositioned her with the idea that she might prefer Thor over Loki. While Loki had always believed that there was some meager attraction between Vyperia and Thor, he would always assume that she cared not for the blunt and arrogant ways of the God of Thunder. That's why they argued so much. Vyperia was the gentle spirit who would choose diplomacy over battle while Thor punched his way out: hit first, ask questions later.
Vyperia only became tempered when she learned that he sent the Destroyer to kill Thor because, Loki knew, that deep down she believed that he would love Thor as an equal. Who would murder his brother out of something other than a swift gain for power or identity?
Loki raised his glass to his lips once more.
He sighed deeply as the amber mead poured through his parted lips, though he took no satisfaction within the drink. Loki's mind prattled on the matters of the heart. He thought of Vyperia.
What is a king without a queen?
Is this one of your riddles, Loki?
I play tricks, not riddles.
Your tricks are wordless riddles; and so exist.
Loki pushed back against the window and strode toward the bed. He sat down upon the mattress slowly, lost in thought. Even as she spoke his name, there was the tinge of excitement. She was more than just a pretty face. She did more than just entrance him.
She was captivating.
Don't ever lay down your life to protect me. It is foolish to risk two heartbeats when one can survive.
That was what he had told her after one of their arguments. Loki remembered exactly what she had said to him because it touched him empathetically; and there was a meaning to it.
What if, Vyperia had said with a voice just above a whisper, the heartbeat that survived…stopped when she realized that her heart died with him?
Loki lowered his glass to the end table. He palmed his face with both of his hands, sighing stressfully as he reiterated her words through his mind. Loki was troubled. He couldn't get her out of his head.
Then he heard a soft knock upon the bedroom door, quiet and unguided. Loki raised his head and looked upon the closed door with hesitation.
"Who calls upon his king?" he said loudly.
The door opened. He rose to his feet immediately when he saw that it was Vyperia.
"One who will leave if her king should ask that of her," she answered.
"Vyperia…"
"Don't…speak," she whispered.
Her voice quaked with anger. Loki's expression died as she swayed on the spot. He gazed at her with shock and disapproval.
She was drunk.
Loki stood still as she closed the door, huddled against it as the knob was the only thing that was holding her upright. Never had Loki seen Vyperia so fallen apart. His expression faltered when he remembered that it was he who put her into this situation.
Loki stepped forward with his hands out in front of him, ready to catch her if she should fall.
"Oh…" Vyperia's voice sniped with derisive empathy; her eyes summarily gathered his facial expression and his slow movement toward her, "So the king of Asgard finally feels some candid emotion for his wife."
"You are not thinking straight." Loki said softly.
"I should think not." Vyperia remarked.
She raised a hand to present to him the empty bottle of wine from the table. In his open palms, Vyperia shoved the hallow container into his hands. She walked pass him.
"I might have taken the last drop of that. Sorry," she added waspishly.
Loki set aside the bottle carelessly.
"I don't care about the wine."
"I'm surprised that you care about anything, let alone yourself," Vyperia droned, glancing at him from over her shoulder. "You are so quick to point out the faults of my person, dear King, but have you ever turned that keen perception upon yours."
Loki watched her stagger toward the bed. She pulled off her robes with sloppy grace.
"I wanted to speak to you," said Loki.
"Is that what you call it?" she muttered with passive contempt.
"I'm being sincere about this," Loki told her patiently. "I'm given some thought."
"How do I know that you are sincere with me? What," said Vyperia wryly as she rose to her feet, "makes you think that I want to hear you right now? I'm drunk, but I still know that your tongue is as silver as the fork that I used at dinner…though it's not as shiny," she added as a side note.
Vyperia turned. She pulled off the underdress and stood in the middle of the room, half-naked. Loki understood that she was incredibly pissed, but that didn't stop her from looking so beautiful.
"I know how your mind works, Loki. You're not tricking anybody…" Vyperia remarked.
"Listen to me," Loki began gently, approaching her, "I know that I hurt you"—Vyperia made an unflattering snort—"I realize that now, Vyperia."
She leaned forward and began to unfasten her heels.
"So my King desires an audience; how…unimpressive," she muttered. "What will you have me do, Loki? Sit upon your lap and hear you proclaim your love to me while I dote on your words…? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
He stared at her.
Vyperia could be a sweetheart, but she had the capability of being rather nasty too. Loki wasn't used to being on the receiving end of her snake-bitten words. It was always Thor…Maybe that's why he would resolve to violence. Her words were more fatal than her brutality.
"You're angry, I know," Loki said softly, attempting to keep that inner beast contained. "I've hurt you."
"Yes," she said, meeting his gaze. "You did."
With that note, he fell silent as she kicked her heels off her feet and strode pass him to her wardrobe. Loki passed a hand over his face to remain calm.
"He could have the throne, the moon, and the stars," muttered Vyperia disdainfully, "but when his wife offers him everything, he shoots her down like an apple core from a tree…"
She pulled herself clumsily out of her lower gowns. Vyperia took a night dress and pulled it over her head. She was halted by the straps around her arms, becoming tangled up in the simple silky mess. Loki watched her struggle for a minute. He sighed and stepped up from behind.
He wordlessly fixed the tangling of her limbs and the dress. It fell over her naked breasts and panties. Vyperia looked at him for a moment after he had assisted her.
"I didn't need your help." Vyperia snapped at him. He met her apathetic gaze. When he said nothing in return, her eyes smoldered. "Doesn't that hurt coming from somebody else?"
She pushed him in the shoulder as Vyperia walked pass him. He reacted to it, swaying, but didn't fight her. Loki turned to watch her step toward the window.
"Vyperia…"
She didn't look at him. Her eyes focused elsewhere other than him.
"Vyperia, Darling…"
"Don't speak to me," she hissed scornfully. "I don't want to hear your voice."
He strode toward her.
"Why won't you heed what I say?" she muttered.
"Vyperia—"
"—stop—"
"—I'm sorry."
She looked at him, taken aback.
"What?" she whispered.
"I'm sorry," he reiterated.
He took her hands in his; she pulled away from him, leaving his hands opened as she stepped aside.
"Don't apologize to me," she said scathingly. "You hurt me."
"I said what I said to you out of anger. I meant nothing by it."
"How many times have you told a person to die, Loki?" said Vyperia, pained.
"Darling…"
"You—" She poked him roughly in the chest, making him step back—"You told me to go to Jotunheim and perish with them. As if I mean so little to you!"
Loki stepped away from her. They circled the bed,
"Do you realize how much that hurt, Loki Odinson?"
She cried out to him furiously. They ended up on the other side of the room as she fiercely approached him; he backed up into the farthest wall, hands in front of him.
"How was I to know that—?" Loki asked, but she shook her head and stabbed in the chest with a finger,
"Don't you say a word! I deserve a proper apology!"
Loki stared at her incredulously.
"But I did apologize…"
"You apologized to me because you want me to melt in your arms. I know you!" Vyperia said angrily. She stepped away from him. He straightened as she gave him extra girth. "You're so full of it. So conniving and so all put-together! When are you ever going to show me some sincere emotion! What hold do I have on you, really? Do I have nothing to use against you?"
"Vyperia, I—"
"I said that I didn't want to hear you!" Vyperia snapped, rounding on him.
Loki might have towered over her a few inches, but the rage on her face was actually a bit more than he was used to—especially coming from a woman whose size was very small.
"Your mother," she breathed (and he could practically tastes the alcohol on her breath), "comes to me in the guise of a sympathy voter, tells me to go to you for comfort…And what do I get? A crockery about apologies and tenderness…"
Vyperia stepped away from him again. Loki merely stood where he was.
"Power changes people," she muttered. "Power changes everything. It changed you; it changed me. We are not the same persons anymore. You've become this dictator who uses his words against those who trust him."
She turned to look at him.
"You are tyrant, Loki. You want the entire Realm to bow to you without question. You want an audience to see your grandeur, to worship you—not as a king—but a god. You are not god on Asgard, Loki," Vyperia told him seriously. "You are Loki of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms, King of Asgard."
"Am I not a god in your eyes, Vyperia?" asked Loki hesitantly.
"You are a fool," she muttered.
He stared at her.
"You are a fool because you want the entire Realm to know who you are; and you are afraid of what you have become. Jotunheim is but the first of the races to fall for your childish need and desires. You have nothing in your heart to prove to Odin that you are worthy of the throne, except years of jealousy."
"You didn't explain this to me when you were sober," Loki said cynically. He did not take pleasure in hearing all of this, especially while she was intoxicated.
"I don't like hurting you," she said. "I keep all of it to myself. I bottle it. I hold it."
"Why have you never confessed these opinions to me?"
Vyperia's eyes weakened.
"Because I know that you would look at me like that," she pointed to him weakly and turned away.
A silence came over them.
Vyperia raised a hand to the temple of her head, massaging an upcoming headache. Already, she was sobering. The pain steadily drew near and she flopped down onto the bed, meek and worn. Loki sighed into the quiet darkness. He walked toward her slowly, hoping that her furious rage had slowly tamed. Loki sat down beside her on the bed.
He gave her a solemn look, recognizing the pain that was present in her face. Her fury left her as soon as the headache had come. Now Vyperia sat beside him as if all energy was sucked out of her.
"I am truly sorry."
She glanced at him with a small smile.
"How do I know that you're telling me the truth, Silver Tongue?"
He matched her weak smile.
"Do you still love me?" he asked her.
"Yes." Vyperia answered with a slow nod. "I still love you."
She uttered a small mirthful chuckle.
"What will I ever do with you, Loki?" Vyperia cooed.
He merely grinned.