Chapter 31
Loki rested a hand on April's bedroom door and leaned in closer. "I don't intend to. I promise you. Please believe me when I say that I am not mind controlling you, nor have I ever attempted to. Your will is your own. It always has been. My displays of magic were genuine attempts to repay your hospitality…nothing untoward."
She was so close to the door he heard her exhale her relief. He found himself dropping his own forehead against the wood. "April, I would never harm you."
The silence stretched until she finally spoke. "And yet hundreds, maybe thousands, of people died in New York. People with loved ones who are now grieving just like I am for David…like I'm guessing you are for your mother."
Her mention of Frigga caught him by surprise and he blinked back his pain, his eyes glazing at her memory.
"And your actions gave them that grief - that needless grief."
A lump lodged in his throat and he swallowed uncomfortably. He didn't want to listen to this, he wanted to turn and walk away, but he couldn't move.
"And for what? You have such a gift, Loki. Your magic is amazing, and I've only seen a tiny sample of it."
An unfamiliar warmth ignited within him as a smile twitched at his lips.
"You could do so much with your powers, so much good. Instead…" When she suddenly stopped, his brow furrowed expectantly. "Instead…all you seem to want to do is lounge on a throne and have people kneel before you. Can't you see the tragedy in that?"
Loki felt as if she had struck him. He stepped away from the door, the warmth instantly turning to ice. How dare she! How dare she assume! "You know nothing of my life," he snarled, "…of my birth right! Of what I want!"
He turned away in bewilderment. But what did he want? What did he truly want? He always thought he knew but ever since he had fallen from the Rainbow Bridge he had been lost and adrift. Thanos had manipulated that disorientation, he knew that now, drawn out the darker side of the God of Mischief and amplified it; exploited his rage, his need for revenge, his desire to be king, to be as worthy as Thor.
"Then why don't you tell me," she started tentatively and he could hear the tremor in her voice. "I don't think you are evil…I'm sorry I said you were. It was heat of the moment. But I want…I would like to know what drove you to do what you did."
Loki stared at her door in shock. He had wanted to make her understand and here she was, offering to listen. Even after discovering who he really was.
"Loki?"
It felt as if invisible hands were tightening around his neck, crushing his vocal cords, lodging the words in his throat.
"Loki?"
He started backing away, further from the door as it suddenly became too much, too overwhelming, her compassion still so foreign to him. Turning, he fled down the stairs, through the cottage, and into the garden, a voice inside screaming "coward!" with every step. By the time he reached the bench he was out of breath, but it had nothing to do with exertion. He blinked back his emotions as he stared across the meadow that April spoke of so fondly. Sunrise was long past but it was still early enough for the long misty grasses to sparkle with morning dew. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the fresh heady air, squaring his shoulders, composing himself.
He had run away from few things in his long life, but never envisaged he would wind up beating a hasty retreat from a mortal woman and her forthright words.
Her unwitting power over him continued to prove unsettling and he was suddenly struck with a sobering notion. That he was meant to come here. Not just Midgard, but here in particular. That the incantation had brought him to April for a reason. And that his mother had known it when she had given him the book.
He frowned pensively until a humourless laugh escaped him and he shook his head, realising how absurd that sounded. He was becoming as fanciful as the mortal.
Now that April knew who he was and there was nothing to hide, he shrugged out of the pyjamas she had given him and back into his armour. The illusion felt comforting and yet…somehow repelling now. He remembered her words:
"People with loved ones who are now grieving just like I am for David…like I'm guessing you are for your mother."
"And your actions gave them that grief - that needless grief."
He rarely considered the consequences of his actions, rarely reflected upon the aftermath. But April was right. He was feeling the same pain, a deep soulful ache inside…
Enough! His mind rebutted as he clenched his fists, disgusted by such weakness, such demeaning sentimentality. Enough!
But grief bubbled up again. He could see his mother's beautiful face.
Am I not your mother?
You are not!
Despite their reunion in the white realm he still felt ashamed. Still hated himself for saying those cruel words, for hurting her.
And Thor, at Stark Tower…
"Look at this! Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule!"
He had registered the mortals' screams when, for a fleeting moment, the Mind Stone had lost its hold over him.
"It's too late! It's too late to stop it!"
"No! We can! Together!"
He remembered the hope in his brother's eyes, and then seeing it gutted like a flame when the Mind Stone had clouded his mind again, drowning out the screams with a tumultuous rush of promises that had reawakened the darkness within and goaded him to lash out with his dagger.
"It is my birthright!"
"Your birthright was to die!"
The passage of time still hadn't softened his father's cutting words. They still sucked the air out of his lungs like they had the very first time he had heard them, fracturing his soul a little bit deeper every time he relived that moment.
Something compelled him to start walking. Out of the garden and into the meadow beyond. Through the damp grasses that smelt just as sweet as any on Asgard. Allowing the gentle slope to usher him down to the copse of trees that nestled in the valley below.
Sorry about the short chapter!
Reviews always appreciated!