Chapter 3
His awareness returns gradually. He’s laying on a familiar surface. Just the right balance of soft and hard, he recognizes his covers, the perfect length to hide his feet and all the way to the top of his head. It has always seemed oddly vulnerable to him to sleep with his head exposed. It’s just one of his quirks, one his brother often mocks him for to this day. Specially when going on journeys that involve setting camp. Everything is a matter of bravery and cowardice for Thor.
He feels truly rested, and he rejoices in the feeling. No doubt a product of a deep sleep. Not unlike those days after a long training session that left him with tired muscles, or that saw his reservoirs of seidr exhausted. He doesn’t even remember having any dreams, though he usually does. He stretches and finally opens his eyes a bit, it’s still mostly dark but through his balcony door he can see a subtle light starting to show. He wonders if he could convince his parents to let him off of his responsibilities for once, he could grab a book and a warm drink and stay in bed all day. Everything has been so hectic lately and he hasn’t managed to sleep properly for a while. After all the preparations and worrying about his brother’s immediate ascension, and all the ways that will inevitably go wrong, well, it certainly has made it a challenge to get a restful night. But now that-
That’s when it catches up to him, he heart jumps and races, the events from before rushing through his mind. His brother is not yet king, he is also not his brother. Everything seems to shift around him. As if someone picked him up, changed all the colors around him and then placed him exactly were he used to be, nothing is familiar, and the world doesn’t feel like his anymore. He blames Eir and the deep sleep she forced upon him for how scrambled his brain had to be to ever forget that he’s-..he’s -..
He’s an impostor. For all he is supposed to be a Giant he’s never felt so small. Untethered. He wants to run and hide but he’s afraid to leave the room, lets they find him and slay him, just like Thor once promised to do to all those of his kind.
He’s visibly still in Asgard but, he desperately wishes he could just go home. But his home is gone, buried in the past. Left behind with the man he was, in the frozen lands of a deeply somber realm.
And by god, he trembled and lost control in front of not only his family but also royal guards and his brother’s friends, even Heimdal was present to witness his humiliation. He dosen’t have the energy to focus more on that.
Looking around he can see no-one but from the tray of food near his bed he knows at least, servants have been by, and… what if they saw him? What if he somehow turned into… that, while he slept? What if..? But then, the allfather ordered the secrecy, they wouldn’t do that just to allow others to immediately find out after, right?
Just then there is knocking from the door. There’s not a single rational thought through his head but panic. Instinct takes over and before he realizes, he throws a spell to seal the entries. The person knocks a couple more times before they try the door. They usually know better than to enter without being allowed to. This must be his… mother’s or the allfather’s doing, the only ones who can overrule any order he gives. The person at the door calls to him, it is a woman’s voice, he doesn’t recognize it, probably a servant, but beyond the few who stand out for constancy, he never bothers to really pay attention. The woman eventually leaves. He lays back down and curls as tightly as possible, covers his whole body under the huge blanket and pretends he will go to sleep and everything will have been a nightmare.
The knocking keeps coming. Sporadically at first, but annoyingly persistent as the days past. He doesn’t answer their request to come inside and he doesn’t plan to leave his rooms.
He feels as if his mind has shut off, bothering enough to keep him breathing, but nothing more. He loses track of time, sleeps long periods and stares at walls when he can’t. Mostly he wakes from nightmares where he was alone in the dark of Jotunheimr or being pushed into the void by Thor, by his Father… Usually his nails are bloody and his arms are scratched, as if unconsciously he still tried to get rid of that skin. At times, he goes to sleep and dreams of learning to control his seidr with his mother, or enjoying one of those rare days by the palace gardens, sitting with his family, near the water of the little lake he’s always loved, only to wake up to the nightmare his reality has become.
He doesn’t want to be seen, realistically he knows the amount of people who know is very limited and that they were sworn to secrecy. Still… it feels like an open wound in his throat, the thought of what they’re thinking, what everyone would think if they were to know. Then he would no longer just be the runt of the house of Odin, he’d be the monster haunting their children, he’d be the enemy to slay…
Other than the servants, and a couple times Eir, he remembers his mother has been coming by. She talks to him through the door, tells him they need to talk, that they’re all worried and to please eat something. She asks him to open the door, to let Eir check in on him, and when that gets her nowhere after days, she tells him that this cannot last forever, that they understand he needed time, but that they cared, that they wouldn’t let him go on like this. She probably was trying to confort him, or convince him, but her words weirdly sounded like threats. He closed his eyes and let his mind go blank again….