Chapter 9.
He saw demonic faces before him, nightmarish creatures which clawed at his body, cutting deep into his armor and his flesh. He tried to defend himself, to fight back, but he had been wounded and his mind couldn't focus. He saw an opening and flew away as fast as his crippled body would carry him. His torturers didn't follow him immediately, probably wishing to prolong the sport he was offering them.
He found a place he thought would be safe in the darkness. His pursuers were edging near, their gnarled feet thumping on the cold rocks, their harsh voices murmuring, always closer and closer.
A cry pierced the silence on that dead planet, for another entity was in the vicinity now and the creatures fled before it. Then dread drenched Loki's whole being like iced water, a primal fear which went beyond any understanding or rationalizing and which threatened to shatter his sanity.
There exist some creatures which precede any other in the Universe, which reigned in an era of chaos and darkness and whose mere presence defies the known laws of Nature. The formerly undisputed rule of such abominations, however, was interrupted billions of years ago, but they still survive as cultures which have forgotten all that made them great but their hubris, and from the dark recesses of the Universe where they persist on existing, they venture sometimes to prey on the inferior beings which serve them as sustenance.
Something got a hold of him. He hadn't heard it approaching, nor could he defend himself, paralyzed as he was with terror.
He was suffocating.
That something constricted his body but, instead of crushing him, it left him breath just enough to keep him living, and what little air he could take had the stench of rotten flesh on it. He couldn't move nor scream, only feel that creature he couldn't see in the darkness prodding into his mind, whispering to him in a language he had never heard, but whose words slowly pierced him to the very core of his soul.
Harsh, white light almost burnt his eyes when he opened them with a scream. It took him several moments of taking long, painful gulps of air to realize that the smell which assaulted his nostrils was that undefined mixture of antiseptics and cleansers. He was in a hospital room.
His head fell back on the pillow and he exhaled deeply. Grimacing, he tried touching his his left cheek, which felt tender, but then he discovered he had been bound to the bed. He tried wrestling his way out of it, as panic mounted, and shouted for someone to help him. A few moments later he saw the door flying open and Thor stepped into the room.
"Brother!" the warrior put a hand on Loki's chest, pushing him back into the bed. "Is it you, Loki?"
"Of course it is I!" Loki protested. "Unbind me at once!"
But Thor frowned, and Loki feared he would be brought back to Asgard as a prisoner loaded in chains.
"Do you know who I am?" Thor asked cautiously.
Then it dawned on him: his fear had been so intense it had made him forget a very important lesson about the arcane: "The inrush of energy back to a previously sealed body could cause transitory dementia which could be permanent if the restitution was done without supervision". Or, as Thor put it: Magic can melt your brain.
The few things he could remember when he got his powers back was feeling as if he was drunk. And now he felt as if he was suffering from a hangover.
"Your name is Thor, and you are an oaf."
The warrior laughed in relief.
"You were so covered in their blood it was almost impossible to see your clothes," he said, as he undid the restrains. "Sorry about the punch. Mother warned me about you losing your mind and that I had to knock you out if needed."
"And that is what explains why my face hurts," Loki murmured, nursing his left cheek and grimacing.
"I had no choice!" Thor defended himself. "The Midgardians were ready to attack you!"
"Where are the girls?"
"They are safe. Your Lady Jane wanted to be here, but I told her it would be dangerous if you woke up and you weren't yourself anymore."
"She didn't pay any heed to what you said," Loki said with a knowing smile.
"How did you know?"
"Her scarf is over that chair," Loki pointed out. "Also, I know her and I have experience with stubborn individuals."
Thor made a face, averting his eyes.
"We tried to find the Casket," he said, changing the subject. "Do you know where it might be?"
"I hid it."
"Where?"
"In a safe place where no mortal will find it. They are too curious for their own good."
"I still need to know where is that place."
Loki turned his head and saw that Thor's eyes were cold and hard. Sighing, he sat up laboriously and closed his eyes to muster his strength. He gestured with both hands and the Casket appeared for him to grab its handles. As he did so, the blue hue spread slowly but relentlessly over his fingers, his arms and the rest of his body under the hospital garbs.
He didn't look at Thor, convinced that the man had his eyes fixed on his now blue face. Did he have ruby eyes like the other Giants? He couldn't be sure. Another gesture and he sent the Casket back to the dimensional pocket it had been stored in all that time, and with that his skin came back to normal as slowly as it had changed.
Loki leant back on the pillow, strangely tired from the effort, his eyes fixed on the ceiling again.
"You knew it since our visit to Jotunheim."
"Why is it that no one listens to me when I say the truth?" Loki sighed. "Yet when I speak in jest everyone turns into the most attentive audience."
He heard Thor sighing heavily.
"We have more pressing matters," the god of thunder said, his voice hoarse. "If they could take the Casket, that means…"
"Nothing at all."
"What?"
"A protective shield can be augmented or diminished, depending on the needs of the caster," Loki recited. "That the Vault has been left unprotected doesn't mean that the Palace has fallen entirely, only that the casters needed to reduce the radius since they couldn't activate the shield's generator. You still have time to reach them, although what will you do next it's anyone's guessing. Remember that the Casket wasn't the only weapon stored inside the Vault."
"Won't you come with us? Mother sent me for you."
"I have been exiled," Loki reminded him. "Now that you know what I am, I doubt I would have a place among your warriors, and I doubt even more that Odin would stand the sight of me, even if he knew what I was from the beginning."
"Father and I argued before he fell into the Odinsleep," Thor murmured, then shook his head. "No, it was because I argued with him that he spent what little energy he had left and fell asleep. I told him that he was wrong, that you could never try to do such a thing, but-"
"Actually," Loki interrupted him. "I did."
"What?" Thor's head snapped up, but Loki kept glancing at the ceiling.
"I had to show Odin how ill prepared you were to be a king," he explained calmly. "If it wasn't so easy to instill your rage, nothing like this would have happened. Father would have gone to sleep in peace, you would be the regent and the Frost Giants would be still rooting in that dead planet of theirs."
"And I would be blissfully ignorant of my identity," he added to himself.
"You started a war!" Thor roared.
"You," Loki hissed, glaring at him. "You delivered the first blow at a simple name-calling when I, as always, nearly saved us all yet again by means of words and wits. But they would have been regarded as mere tricks had we returned unscathed from your little adventure, wouldn't they?" he sneered, never raising his voice. "You would have swept an entire race had they given you the power, only because you thought it would be a good sport. You, the Golden Child, Asgard's dream warrior. You know nothing about defeat, about being trampled on and then having to rise from the mud, with your wounds as your own companions and later the scars as reminders that you aren't invincible. Tell me, brother, how can you love something if you never harbor the fear of losing it? How can you be Asgard's king if you take for granted that she will be always yours? Odin knew this, though never admitted it because he knew in his heart he couldn't, because you were his only child and he had no other to turn to."
Thor's labored breathing was the only sound on the room when Loki fell silent.
"I shouldn't have acted when I did," Loki continued, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Father might have forgiven you, as he always did in the past."
Thor, without looking at him, stood up and slowly paced to the window, clenching his fists all the while.
"Father told me he should have exiled me instead of you," he said after a long silence, his voice heavy with restrained rage. "Isn't that enough for you?"
He stood blocking the sunlight, so that his silhouette seemed to glow with an inner light. The Golden Child, even in exile, thought Loki, not without faint resentment.
"Odin and you are very alike," Loki said, rubbing his forehead to ease the lingering dizziness. "You both have very loose tongues when you are enraged. I suppose he will be disappointed that it wasn't his son the one to thwart Laufey's invasion."
"You knew who you were when you killed them."
"I am as much a Frost Giant as I am an Aesir," Loki said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "From neither place but despised in both. From Asgard I always suspected it; from Jotunheim, Laufey left no room for doubt, and that certainty gave strength to my arm."
"You were Laufey's son?"
"Bastard son," Loki corrected. "He recognized me when he saw my blue skin and how small I am. He also confessed to have murdered my mother as soon as he saw that I was not his child. At least he was sincere on his opinion of me."
Thor said nothing, and Loki didn't know which expression he had at that moment, for he had closed his eyes, partly to ignore the prince, partly to ease his dizziness and nausea. He heard heavy footsteps, the door opening and closing with a slam. Thor was gone.
Loki passed a hand over his face. He felt exhausted, in body and soul. To the inrush of arcane power back into his body there was the added stress of family arguments.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to dispel the lightheadedness that plagued him, when he remembered he hadn't eaten since that morning. Had it been that morning? Arcane power restoration could leave the individual unresponsive for many days. No wonder he felt so weak.
Suddenly a cold sweat broke over him and, for a moment, an image of his nightmare flashed before his eyes. He shook his head, trying to calm himself. Dreams were just the manifestation of our inner fears, nothing more, and maybe having his powers returning might have played a part on that.
Loki was still sitting, his face buried on his hands, when he heard the door opening again.
"You are awake!" he heard Jane's voice beaming as she closed the door behind her. Her smile faltered when he raised his eyes to meet hers. "How are you feeling?"
"Far worse than when you run me over with your van," he joked.
"That's not funny," she told him sternly as she set a tray on the nightstand. "You look pale."
But she was also showing signs of weariness; despite her smile her cheeks were almost devoid of color, and dark circles had appeared under her eyes.
"How much time have I been sleeping?" he asked.
"What was left of yesterday and the whole night," she said. "It's nine in the morning."
Loki looked at the nightstand. The tray Jane had brought had two paper cups of coffee and a cardboard box. He stretched his arm to take one of the cups but he saw his hand trembling and withdrew it.
"Thor told me that would happen," she said softly, taking the coffee and putting it on Loki's hands.
He drank eagerly, feeling the warm liquid warming his body. He was partly Frost Giant, why he felt so cold?
"Your brother told me about your powers returning," she said, opening the box to reveal several glazed doughnuts. "He said you had to eat. This is not very healthy, but I thought you'd like a treat."
His stomach grumbled, despite the nausea, and he devoured one in seconds.
"When will they let me go?" he asked, going for a third pastry.
"As soon as we talk to the doctors," she bit her lip. "Only… we aren't in a normal hospital."
He stopped eating and looked at her.
"It's a SHIELD hospital. Hogun needed surgery and they couldn't bring all of you to the county ER."
"Marvelous…" he said, taking a bite from his sixth doughnut.
"They wanted to run tests on you, but your brother sat down at your beside and said he would eviscerate anyone who dared to touch you."
Loki swallowed and made a face.
"Your skin changed color and everything."
"What?"
"You skin was blue. Has been like that until… a couple hours before you woke up, maybe. I was worried it was some side effect of what Thor told me about the magic."
"I was… blue?"
"Yeah, I asked Thor last night if that was normal among Asgardians, but he only said that you were his brother, and that was the only thing that mattered to him."
"Didn't he tell you that I could kill you?"
"Look, I don't know what's happening in your family," her face and her voice grew very serious. "I only grew up with my father and have no siblings, so I don't know how to deal with any of that. I can only tell you that he has been very worried about you, and wouldn't stop telling me about when you were kids while he watched over you. Even grabbed your hand sometimes and called for you when you looked as if you were having a nightmare. Whatever has happened, give him a chance."
"Why are you advocating for him?"
"Because we sometimes say things that we regret later, and when we want to amend things it might be too late," she sighed. "I've seen you and I've seen him. Give him a chance, all right?"
He chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head, but agreed to follow her advice, if only to stop speaking about it.
"Why didn't you tell me you were a prince, of all things?"
"It was a miracle that you believed that I wasn't from your world. I wasn't about splitting hairs."
"Soon you will be all right," she said, her smile returning. "And on your way home. Say, will you visit from time to time?"
"We will see, first things first."
The doctors let him go soon after. Thor had been talking to them, and apparently he had convinced them that keeping his brother "to better understand his physiognomy" would be quite detrimental for the safety of everyone in SHIELD. Loki behaved and played along, and the five Asgardians remained inside the compound, unable to leave, but free to do as they pleased.
Loki's armor was, as Thor had said, so drenched in blood and gore the original colors had been dulled into a dark grey. He left them inside the closet at the private room he had been given, and asked instead for some Midgardian clothes he could wear. Conjuring the Casket had been tiring enough that morning and he didn't feel like cleaning his clothes.
Magic wasn't a force which could be defined in a given place and time. It was a continuum which occupied the whole Universe. When he was young he snuck into the library, searching for the books that only his mother could read; there he learned that there were times when the magic wielder could mingle with that same force and see other realities. Magic inrush after a prolonged sealing could cause that effect, so it stands that the nightmare wasn't just a dream, but something that was happening in another reality.
Looking through the window, he could see that it was a clear afternoon outside. it was impossible to believe that there could be another Loki, in a different reality, who was lost and alone in one of the forbidden, dark corners of the Universe, at the mercy of creatures which had been shunned and forgotten for eons.
He shuddered, the nausea still tugging at his stomach.
Loki straightened his back. He couldn't let anyone see him like that. Shaking his head, he discarded those thoughts: it was another reality, not him, and even then, he was sure that his other self would find a way to escape and return to Asgard, or whichever place he wanted. He was resourceful and strong, though he feared the price his other self would have to pay in terms of sanity after such brutal ordeal.
The dizziness still clung to him and he fought it back with dogged determination, telling himself that it wasn't worse than that occasion when he and Thor, still young rascals, drank a whole cask each of that special mead Odin kept aside for great occasions. It hit them so hard the Allfather deemed their fortnight-long hangover a suitable punishment on itself.
He won, at last, and could walk in a straight line to where Jane was waiting for him to go to the cafeteria, but the memory of that vision would still haunt him.