Chapter 29
My dear Loki
As you are no doubt aware, your father has forbidden any contact between us, something which pains me greatly. I will not lie, my son. What happened down on Midgard all but broke my heart. Your shenanigans and mischief making is part of your nature and cannot be altered, but so much death of so many innocents? I grasp at the hope that you were being steered. That the evil seed was planted by another. I cannot comprehend my Loki with so much blood on his hands.
But your imprisonment also breaks my heart. That you must spend the rest of your days in that terrible cell. I find myself conflicted, my mind tormented, my heart grieving, for the beloved son I seem to have lost.
I also feel guilt. That it is partly my fault, keeping the truth from you, that was the reason your soul became so vulnerable to the darkness.
The book, Loki. The book I have hidden this letter within. It is my small amends. My peace offering. Turn quickly to page 153. Though it frightens me to indulge you with such power, you are competent enough in the Magic Arts to acknowledge the implications. Both good and bad.
Because there will be risks. There is a chance you may not survive the intensity of such an incantation. Few have. The choice is yours. If you do decide to make the casting, it will give you freedom either way. But whether Valhalla, or Midgard, I do not know. I pray it will be the latter.
I ask only one request of you for my part in this. Should the incantation prove successful, I beg of you, a single Midgardian year. Spend a year with those you have wronged. Those that you feel are so beneath you. They live and breathe no different from us, Loki. They do not deserve your contempt, your cruel disdain. Try to make your amends. Try to do some good.
A year is all I ask, Loki. A short duration for us Asgardians, and then your path is your own. Please, my son, make your mother proud. And yes, I am your mother. I have always loved you with a mother's love: deep and raw and binding. From the moment I first laid eyes upon your sweet face. I hope that one day I will look upon your face again and see the conflicts that ravage your handsome features replaced with some semblance of peace.
I am, and always will be, your doting mother.
Frigga
April's hands were shaking by the time she had read the letter. Loki? Loki…brother of Thor? The Loki who had attacked New York?
Truth be told, she didn't know much about what happened to the city. It occurred only a couple of days after David had died. At the time she had been lost inside a bubble of grief that the outside world could not penetrate, not even an alien invasion. The fact that it had been happening on the other side of the world also added to her complete indifference.
She hadn't really known anything about the Avengers who had defeated the aliens either. She had vaguely heard of Iron Man, Captain America, and the Hulk, but again, it was a matter of logistics. Their exploits were so far away. Thor was a bit different. She loved history and was familiar with some of the Norse myths, so she did know more about him…and his wayward brother.
Even after New York (and the world) had been saved, she was still consumed by her grief. As the months passed it became fractionally better, but she remained withdrawn and reclusive. She focused only on her novel, her books, and her garden. She rarely watched the news, lost all interest in social media, and only used the internet for shopping, and research purposes for her writing.
Loki had obviously escaped his 'terrible' cell on Asgard, assisted by whatever incantation was in the book of magic his mother sent him, but had he received his wounds there, as punishment for his crimes, or was he really telling the truth about his torturers? And if it was true why hadn't he told Thor and Odin? Shown them his scars? If nothing else, it might have given him a slightly more lenient sentence.
Oh god! It suddenly dawned on her. The 'carrot' his torturers had dangled in front of him! It was Earth! Ruling Earth!
Could it really be the same man who was currently reading quietly in her living room? Who she had shared pizza and ice cream with? Who had dazzled her with his magic? He could be an infuriating, arrogant git, yes, but bent on world domination? Surely not?
She looked back down at the letter.
I am, and always will be, your doting mother.
Frigga
The sorcerer - Loki - had referred to his mother in the past tense. She must have died after writing this letter. But how soon after? The grief Loki mirrored was probably due to the loss of his mother. They must have been very close.
But the letter also hinted that she wasn't his real mother. Had he been adopted and they had kept the truth from him? That would be enough to mess up any child…but a god? If he really was thousands of years old and for all that time had believed Thor, Odin and Frigga were his true family, to suddenly receive such a bombshell would be pretty shattering. And it would explain how easily he had been manipulated by his torturers and coerced into attacking New York.
Though didn't excuse it! Not in a million years! All those poor people. All that devastation. How many had been killed or injured? How many had lost their homes? Lost loved ones?
A rush of conflicting emotions made her head spin and she staggered across to the nearest wall for support. She felt sick, terrified, angry…but what took her aback, what she felt most of all, was overwhelmingly sad. She didn't want it to be true. She didn't want him to be like this. She had just begun to trust him. It was ridiculous and naive but she felt somehow betrayed.
She shuddered and hugged herself with her arms. God, he was a mass murderer! She was harbouring a mass murderer in her home! Was he eventually going to murder her as well?
Get a grip, April, she told herself, taking a deep breath. Get a grip. She folded the letter, slipped it back into his trouser pocket, and returned his clothes back beside the bath where he had left them.
She stared warily towards the door. She needed to get to her laptop as discreetly as possible so she could Google all about Loki and New York. She wanted to see his face. Make sure it really was him. Perhaps the Loki downstairs was a different Loki. Or perhaps the letter didn't actually belong to him. Maybe he had found it.
Yeah, dream on, April, her inner voice despaired. It's him all right. God of Mischief and Lies and…Murder.
But horrendously mutilated, she defended, and psychologically damaged as well as physically. Carrot or no carrot, he had practically been forced to invade New York. Hadn't he? She had to believe that he had.
She hesitated at the bathroom door and peered down the stairs. Maybe discretion was not the best idea. He would probably sense something was amiss. Better to just act normal. Let him hear her walk down the stairs and into the library. Why wouldn't she go into her library? It was where she worked after all.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she descended the stairs. Not too fast, nor too slow, just the same way she always had. Seeing the front door made her want to bolt for freedom. Get as far from Loki as she could. But she shook her head at the thought. No! This was her home! No one was going to drive her out of it. She wasn't going to leave Sasha here alone either.
Ignoring the exit, she turned and walked along the hall to the library. Even though she knew Loki would have heard her moving around, she still winced when the door creaked as it opened. Damn hinges!
She made a beeline straight for her laptop. To her relief it had been left in standby mode, but she was a bag of nerves as she tried to type in the password. She made so many mistakes that it took three attempts to login. When she finally brought up the Google Image page she quickly typed the key words Loki and New York.
She swallowed down a rush of nausea. It was as she feared. The sorcerer was Loki. Though he was wearing a horned helmet in most of the photos making identification difficult, there were several of him sitting defeated in Germany, hands raised in surrender, with Iron Man and Captain America looming over him.
She changed the Google search for information only this time and scanned several news articles. The more she read the more devastated and horrified she became. Finally accepting the inevitable, that the man she had unwittingly granted refuge was indeed Loki God of Mischief, she started to exit the last website. But her trembling fingers accidentally triggered one of the videos showing Loki terrorising Germany. Her eyes widened when she realised the sound was turned up. Panicking, she scrambled to switch it off…
"...I said...Kneeeeeeeel!"
Oh god! Too late!
Heart in her mouth, she turned towards the door in alarm.
She gasped.
Loki was already standing in the doorway, his face stony and unreadable. He looked like he had been there some time.
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