Look what you did! This story is no longer 'Completed' because after seeing how many readers the first chapter got and hearing that people wanted to read more, I decided that I won't write only one but TWO chapters more.
So, my thanks to all of you who read, liked or alerted this story because you encouraged me to continue. And also my special thanks to those four who reviewed the first chapter and brightened my days with their opinions. I'm truly grateful to you all! :)
And a bit about the third chapter. Because my exams start a couple of weeks after my vacation, I've to study for those and that means more German and Swedish and less English, unfortunately. But I will make the third chapter, don't worry, because I'm far too excited to leave this story and will try to find time to finish this as soon as possible. :)
Happy New Year to you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Darkness.
Blackness without a single spot of light or color. It was all around him, surrounding him like a hunting predator, silent and continuously moving, but still wrapping around him like the softest blanket of all nine realms.
Loki could see and feel the darkness around him. It felt familiar but in the same time unknown to him, but not frightening. Like an old memory that was almost wiped away from his mind and was now awakened again, blurry but still there. And yet he still couldn't recognize it. Closing his eyes Loki tried to clear his mind.
Last time there had been more. More darkness, more reasons, more... pain. Was that the reason why he couldn't remember so clearly the last time he was here? There had been something that had forced him to come here; forced him and kept him here in the darkness where was no place to hide, no corner to back away from the threat.
Had he been threatened before?
Had he been threatened now?
Why was he here?
Now there was nothing. He was lying on a hard floor but oddly he felt no discomfort, no stiffness nor cold. This time, it was peaceful. A feeling that he had almost forgotten but it was now the best way to describe the sensation he felt.
It felt safe. He felt that he was safe. Darkness didn't seem to be his enemy now and the knowledge comforted him. It was now there to protect him; to save him from... something. Something that had happened. Something that still was out there, somewhere.
You think you know pain?
Bright light flashed behind his closed eyelids as pain stabbed Loki's heart with a magnitude that he'd never felt before. His right hand moved immediately to the location of that burning sensation, pressing his palm against his shirt as he swallowed a gasp that threatened to slip from his lips. His body tensed as burning shot through his veins and tickled his nerves; his head tilted backwards, mouth opening and forming a silent scream. Weakly, Loki reached for his magic, trying to concentrate it to the place where it hurt. It had always worked so it had to work now, it was at least worth a try. But now he couldn't feel it; magic that usually answered to him immediately as he reached for it, wasn't there. It was gone. His magic was gone.
Air. His lungs were burning and needed that soothing cold wind. Stopping his futile attempts to summon his magic, Loki collected enough of his concentration to force his lungs to draw a shaky breath. It hurt but the effect was immediate. Fresh air seemed to calm the burning in his heart and veins, encouraging Loki to take another breath and another after that. Slowly, his breathing started to flow smoothly again, the pain also starting to disappear bit by bit.
''Good,'' Loki thought, sighing in relief as the burning subsided into nothingness almost as fast as it'd started. His hand fell away from his chest and to his side as tension disappeared and his body fell limply to the floor under his back.
What was that?
That was easy to recall. It was too clearly, far too clearly in his mind.
A memory.
A memory he would like to forget but knew that it was impossible. It wasn't so long ago since it happened. The whole chain of events slowly coming back to him, forming something like a whirl in his mind as everything were thrown in all at once.
He made a contract. A contract that if failed, would probably mean the end of his life. And he had failed. Because of Thor and the Avengers who decided to play heroes and ruin his plans.
Except that they weren't his plans. No, he was only a pawn that was moved by the mastermind of the whole Midgard invasion. He realized that now. The Other had told him that the Chitauri army was powerful enough to easily win the fight against the mortals – what a fool. Loki had had his own doubts about the level of power the Chitauri had but it was not like he'd have had a choice in the matter. It had been very clear what his options were: immediate death or the contract. So, he chose the one that would at least give him a bit more time to live.
And yet all it needed was the man of Iron, Tony Stark, sending one of those huge rockets of theirs through the portal that the Chitauri had used to enter to Midgard, and everything went down. The oh-so powerful army crumpled down as easily as a house of cards, and Loki eventually would have to pay the price even though he wasn't the one whose fault the failure was. But because the mastermind of the plan was Thanos, Loki didn't expect there to be any kind of calm and rational conversation when he would be found by the titan. The consequences of his failure would be something far worse, something he wasn't–
He will make you long for that so sweet as pain.
Another stab of pain jerked him away from the whirl of his thoughts and this time he hissed out loud, unable to stop himself. Again his hand shot up and pressed strongly against the fabric over his chest and heart. It was like his heart was on fire; his veins were carrying flames instead of blood and his nerves were charged with electricity that made his body shake. Loki gasped and rolled to his side; unconsciously curling on himself, bringing knees against his chest and his left hand over his right, gripping harder the painful part of his chest.
Loki's face formed a grimace of agony as he pressed his teeth together, trying to stop himself from screaming out loud. His eyes scrunched shut and every breath seemed to increase the pain even more. Despite them being small and short, they fed the fire inside him, making it grow stronger by every breath. He was being burned alive, unable to stop it.
''No stop this stop it hurts kill me end this it hurts it hurts stop no more stop it no more no more NO MORE–''
You are our son, Loki, and we your family.
As soon as he heard it the pain subsided again, leaving him gasping for the air he couldn't take during the attack. His body was aching; the burning was gone and was replaced by tingling coldness. Swallowing hard and trying to catch his breath, Loki relaxed his tensed neck muscles and let the side of his head lean against the surface below. He panted like he would have had a fight with the Hulk again, his ears were ringing and his head was throbbing. Slowly his awareness started to return to him, making him also notice the undignified position he was in. Carefully, Loki started to move his still aching body, uncurling himself and turning to lay on his back. Ice cold wave washed over his limbs and they suddenly felt like four blocks of ice that had only been attached to his body.
Loki.
That voice. It sounded so wonderful, so full of warmth and caring that Loki felt his heart leap in his chest. Unconsciously Loki's hand reached upwards, towards the voice he missed and hoped to hear again. He wanted to hear it again. He needed to hear it again.
He felt pressure against his chest and ribs, not painful but still it made him tremble a bit. Like a huge mass had been placed over his chest. It forced his every breath to be small and fast, drying his mouth and leaving uncomfortable stickiness behind. His eyes stung as they slowly filled with unwanted tears and he bit his lower lip to prevent it from trembling.
Loki.
One blink and the tears rolled down like two glass pearls against his pale skin. Shaky breath and a small sob that he couldn't stop escaped his lips, echoing in the surrounding darkness.
In the back of his mind, Loki was angry with himself because of being so weak and letting himself cry like a newborn baby. He was an adult and a prince, he was better than this. He didn't want to let himself become sentimental like this; it was a sign of weakness, it was pathetic.
But he just couldn't stop himself. The pain he had been hiding, all the emotions and unsaid things that had never seen daylight came crashing down on him and he just couldn't stop it as he wished that voice to speak again. More tears gathered in his eyes, falling from the corners one after another, creating two shiny lines to Loki's skin.
''Come back,'' he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. ''Please.''
Blinking twice, Loki finally saw her. Her graceful figure was standing over him, looking at him with those loving eyes and smiling that gentle smile of hers. Her whole being was shining, an aura of light surrounding her body and lighting up the darkness around them. She was like an angel. She was his light. Loki answered to her with a small smile, trying to extend his arm that was still reaching upwards and now towards Frigga. Like a child that wanted to feel the touch and love of its parent.
Frigga reached towards his hand with her own, and Loki could feel how his heartbeat increased in anticipation. Wanting to feel that comforting and warm touch, hear those loving words and see that she really meant them; that was what he wished. Not anything else, only that.
Time seemed to slow down as their hands came closer to each other. The corners of Loki's mouth twitched upwards as her hand finally reached his, only to fall by stricken surprise as her hand went through his own. Like the illusions he created, she dissolved into nothingness, that smile of hers never falling away as she vanished in front of his eyes.
Loki's eyes widened, mouth slightly opening but not saying a word. He turned his extended hand that had passed through the image of his mother, looking at it with his eyes. There was nothing, no feeling of touch, not even the tiniest tingling sensation. Loki's eyes stung; they were like two green pools that desperately looked for any kind of sign on his hand, any kind of comforting sign from her. But there was none, and the pools grew as the realization hit Loki.
His lower lip trembled slightly and his throat constricted as he tried to swallow the uncomfortable lump that had formed. His chest felt heavy again, making it hard to breathe. As he tried, shaky and audible breath escaped him and the tears that had gathered in his eyes, streamed freely down his face like two rivers.
It was too much.
Why did she do this to him?
Why did he do it to her?
There was nothing holding back the tears that formed and fell over and over again. No calming hand to wipe away his tears and hold him close. No gentle hand stroking his hair. No comforting words that would assure him that everything would be all right.
Because he would never be all right.
It was too late.
Loki let his hand fall limply to the floor as he scrunched his eyes shut. Tears were burning his eyes, coloring the usually green ones with angry red color as they streamed down. Loki's right hand tightened into a fist, turning his knuckles almost white and making the thin bones of his fingers clench together with enough force to hurt.
Coldness enveloped his hands; it was like the circulation of blood had suddenly stopped, leaving his hands in the mercy of chill. Slowly the feeling spread upwards and towards his shoulders but there it stopped; the burning in his chest was too great for the coldness to conquer.
His chest was burning. His heart was burning.
For confusion.
For loss.
For pain.
For his own life!
The drumming of his own heart echoed loudly in Loki's ears and he started to become aware of the slowly increasing pressure inside his head. Like something would've been crushing his skull from within. The beats of his heart grew louder by every beat and so grew the pressure but Loki didn't move to place his hands against his pounding head.
He was unable to do it.
He didn't want to do it.
Maybe this was how things would always be to him. Maybe this was his destiny. Doomed to be without a place to belong, never an equal to anyone, only a monster taken from Jotunheim, an outcast who would and should never feel anything else than pain. If the case was that, he wouldn't have any purpose to exist; the fight against the pain would be futile.
He wanted the pain to increase. To the point where he wouldn't feel anything anymore. To the point where the pain would be so great that it would make him numb, unable to feel anything no matter how strong it would be. Too numb to even feel the pain that tortured him.
That would be the end he wished for himself.
He would finally be in peace.
''Am I cursed?''
''Abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.''
''No more than another stolen relic.''
''A monster the parents tell their children about at night.''
''You were an innocent child.''
Innocent.
Loki let out a pained chuckle as he recalled Odin's words. Seriously, the Allfather and his army had fought and killed hundreds and hundreds of Frost Giants without showing them any mercy, and then he'd found an abandoned Frost Giant's baby and thought it was innocent. What a joke!
No, it was a lie all along. Even after finding out the truth about his true parentage, the man he had once called his father still tried to lie to him; to hide the true nature of his actions.
''You took me for a purpose.''
''What was it?''
''TELL ME!''
The pounding inside Loki's head felt like he'd have taken a hit from Mjölnir; it hurt a lot but the increasing of the pain seemed to stop, making it stay on bearable level. How very unfortunate. He had hoped that this would be the end and his release, but exactly how often anything went according to his plans. Loki sighed and loosened his fist, straightening his fingers.
It's like he was trapped, tied to the world of living against his wishes. But why? Why wasn't he allowed to be taken by Death? If everything he did was wrong, then why he couldn't die. All nine realms would only be happy, if he was gone. Peace would be more easy to keep, if one of the most threatening beings wasn't there.
''You can't kill an entire race!''
''Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule?''
It would be so simple. It had been so simple but Odin had only sentenced him to spend the rest of his life in the dungeons instead of killing him. Old fool!
''Why?'' Loki thought, ''Kill me already and be done with it.''
''Your birthright was to die as a child!''
Odin's words lashed at Loki like a poisonous snake as he remembered them but they were unable to hurt him anymore. Loki tilted his head back a bit and, even though it made his head pound again, let out a hollow laugh.
''Then you should have killed me while you had the chance,'' Loki said out loud, smirking and shaking his head from side to side. ''But you didn't! Because you are weak!''
His yell shattered the silence for a millisecond before it sewed itself back together and fell again over the God of Mischief's form. Silence was the only answer Loki got.
The mask of hatred covering Loki's face disappeared; tensed jaw relaxed and bared teeth vanished under his lips, a blank look taking hatred's place. His eyes were fixed on the darkness, the emptiness above him.
''But why?'' Loki muttered expressionlessly and unconsciously out loud. ''You had many chances. Why didn't you do it?''
Loki couldn't understand.
''There's always a purpose to everything your father does.''
What purpose? If Odin's plans about uniting Asgard and Jotunheim were buried, then what other reason there would be.
Loki frowned, the small motion sending a tiny shot of discomfort to his head and he winced quietly. He dug his teeth into his lower lip as he let his mind try to form some kind of explanation to the Allfather's actions. To Loki, it came out of nowhere. An idea that he had never bothered to think about came to his mind.
No.
Loki shook his head in denial. No, it couldn't be. It was impossible and against everything he had believed after finding out that he was a Frost Giant. It was impossible. It was! Odin couldn't have– The Allfather couldn't still care for him. Odin sentenced Loki to the dungeons only because he wanted to punish him more. There couldn't be anything else! There couldn't–
Loki's mind was a chaos of thoughts that he couldn't put in order. Odin didn't kill him because it'd have been too easy. Loki's imprisonment was a punishment not a sign of mercy or caring! Worse punishment than quick death, not a way to show love! That's all it was! Nothing more, nothing more–
''I wanted only to protect you from the truth.''
''No! Not true!''
''He kept the truth from you so you would never feel different.''
''Lies! Just lies!''
''I'll tell father what you did here today.''
''I didn't do it for him!''
Loki blinked, returning to his senses, cutting his way out of the forest of thoughts as he spoke those words again. He froze, ceasing every movement he was making. He remembered now. Those words. Those have been his last words before his–
Death.
Except, he wasn't dead. He couldn't be. He was now aware enough to know that Hel wasn't like this and because he knew that to Valhalla he would never go, the only possibility was that he, somehow, was still alive.
Loki breathed deeply in and blinked slowly few times. He was in some kind of sleep or trance. What had he thought before his mind went black? Something had bothered him, uncertainty. But for what? He had known– No, he had suspected something but he hadn't been able to speak.
He had felt arms around him, supporting him as the waves of pain and numbness had gone over him. He had wanted to tell, had wanted to tell something, to someone, too weak–
''No!''
Someone had yelled. Loki had heard it, barely but still, and he could recall it. The voice seemed to be full of hurt and grief for someone. Could it have been for him? Who would be so sentimental that–
Thor.
Now Loki realized that he didn't care about why Odin had spared him. He didn't know the right answer to that, and probably he never would. Maybe the Allfather loved him, maybe not; it didn't matter anymore. It just didn't matter. Because everything between them had now been torn apart, leaving only negative remains behind. There was nothing between them anymore and no point in thinking why the Allfather had done all those things.
Odin had taken him, and now Loki was here: alive. That's all that mattered.
Odin was nothing to Loki.
Loki was nothing to Odin.
But there were others. Others that were something to Loki. Odin was only something from the past, and Loki would treat him as such and forget the questions.
But there were two other persons that had been close to him. One that still was while the other was now only a beautiful memory that Loki would carry in his heart for the rest of his life. But one of those two was still there. He had been there; trusting Loki enough to tell about his plan, saving Loki from the portal that had tried to take him and holding Loki's dying body in his arms as the God of Mischief's eyes closed one last time.
The one that Loki had tried to hate, tried to kill but couldn't. The sentimental, stupid oaf. The one he had once called his brother.
Thor.
Loki couldn't help it, but remembering the sound of Thor's voice before everything went quiet woke something in him. The pounding in his head started to calm down, the constant ringing in his ears fading away as well as the heavy echoes of his heart beats. His mind finally freeing itself from the pressure, making him notice that the burning in his chest started to die down also. What replaced it, was an odd sensation that made Loki puzzled. It was difficult to describe, there was so much that it felt impossible to set all of that to one word.
Warm, gentle, soft, relaxing, comforting; it was all that combined and more. Something that reminded Loki of Frigga, the other person that still had a place in his life even though she was dead. It made him remember those times when he was being bullied, left alone because he wasn't physically strong like Thor. Because he used magic instead of swords and shields. Frigga had always been there to comfort him when she saw how bad he felt. The feeling was oddly resembling to the feeling Frigga's actions had brought.
Was it– caring?
Thor's voice had been caring.
Thor had cared about him.
Could it really be that? Thor said that he didn't trust the God of Mischief anymore, that he would kill Loki if he saw a reason for that. And yet he had shaken when he'd held Loki's dying body in his arms, trying to comfort him by telling how Odin would hear about his selfless actions, and finally yelling in anguish denial as Loki went limp in his arms.
The corners of Loki's mouth twitched upward and he sighed.
''Oh Thor, you sentimental fool,'' he muttered, his voice missing its usual sharpness, being almost soft.
But if Loki could prevent it, he would never show his emotions to anyone. He would keep them inside him, out of everyone's sight. Because he didn't want them to weaken him, to make others believe that he was vulnerable. There would be the Chitauri and Thanos waiting for him when he'd wake up and he'd need every fiber of his powers to keep himself alive. It'd only be better that he'd be as cold and uncaring as he had been so far.
However, Loki knew that Thor would still be his sentimental self. Thor would never understand Loki's reasons to act the way he did. No wonder since Thor had Odin and the army of Asgard on his side, he was supported and helped by others. He didn't need to worry like Loki. The God of Mischief didn't have anyone, only himself to rely on, so he couldn't let unnecessary emotions distract him. It would hurt Thor but it was the only way.
Still, Loki couldn't deny that Thor's caring was touching, and he appreciated it even though he wouldn't admit it out loud.
Creak.
A small sound came from the floor under his back, and Loki felt like something was pulling him downwards, pressing him harder against the hard floor. At first he tensed a bit, unsure what was happening but then he remembered. He blinked once, a small smile making its way to his face as he understood. That's what he had thought before his death, it was all clear to him now.
He had pondered if his magic could save him, heal the fatal injury that he had taken when helping Thor. He had been unsure but now it seemed that it had worked.
His magic must had now healed him enough that it was safe for him to wake up and return to the real world. The trance had been created by his magic to protect him as the injuries of his body had been cured; and now because there was no need for the trance anymore, it was crumbling away, guiding him to wake up.
He was alive, he was going to be alive. He was going to go back and survive, he would not die in the hands of Thanos nor the Chitauri any time soon. He would find a way to survive.
The floor shook as pieces of it began to crumble down into the abyss beneath it. Loki's returning consciousness was tearing the trance apart and the more the floor crumbled the more Loki became aware of the pain that radiated through the fabric between the reality and the trance. But he wasn't going to stand back. He would return. He had a reason to return.
''I did it for her.''
''I did it for you, Thor.''
He would never say those words; he would keep them in his mind, but he knew that he really meant them.
Loki closed his eyes as the floor under his back cracked into pieces, collapsing under the weight of reality and leaving the God of Mischief without support.
He was falling.