Chapter 4
He wakes up immediately alert. He’s got a feeling, not unlike that of hair being pulled. Someone entered his room, forcing his spell open and torn apart like an annoying cobweb. He feels distantly insulted, he’s not one of the best sorcerers in the nine for nothing. Even raw power cannot usually easily undo his complexly woven spells. They require technique. Something surprisingly few possess and that has always come innately to him. Even his mother does not manage to undo his spells most of the time nowadays. Perhaps in his panic and fear he was careless…
The door slams open. If he wasn’t surfacing from a deep slumber, he’d probably appreciate the theatricality of it all. He turns his head and can see his father standing there, still pointing gungnir at the door. Slowly he rises until he’s leaning on the headboard, too surprised to do more. He sees his mother right behind his father, her hands held together in front of her chest and looking concerned and frustrated. He vaguely remembers her words about how they wouldn’t let this go much longer and realizes she probably meant Odin.
“I will have no more of this insolence, this-, this childish behavior!” This is said gravely, but Loki can see the tension on his face, it reminds him of being reprehended when he’d play a joke on the council members and they’d complain about the prince being a lost cause. He could swear veins are popping.
“I expect you to put yourself together and join us in the dining room for a proper meal today”. With that he turns, he can hear him instruct the guards that accompanied him, to stay and “make sure the prince is on time”, as if he weren’t actually ordering them to escort him. You can hardly ask them to drag their prince, but if you are king, you request to “assist” him so he is where he is asked to be when he is desired. Rarely since his childhood has this been needed, however.
His mother seems to hesitate a second, but smiles sadly at him, almost a grimace, and follows his father. He feels deeply tired, despite not having moved in who knows how long. He wishes he could just lay back down, but this has been an abrupt wake up call. He knows now the reason why he’s been left alone for so long was probably his mother, and what sounded like threats was a warning. While Odin has never been particularly violent with his wife or children, except for a few occasions, he is known to be explosive when his patience is done, and he never seemed to have that much of it in the first place.
With a scoff and soft sigh, he closes the door with a hand gesture and goes to clean up. He puts on a white shirt, not bothered to do the laces at the wide collar, black pants and soft shoes, usually reserved for his room. He throws on a long but light coat and for once doesnt bother beyond combing his fingers through his hair.
He opens his door and finds himself surrounded by four guards. He immediately starts walking, not acknowledging them. This is mechanical, he’s good at appearing aloof. He’s made it an art. How to hold himself, how to walk, the expression on his face…
Two guards come to stand next to him, carefully keeping a step behind, two more behind those.
As he walked with his “escort” through the halls, he carefully avoided eye contact with any they found on their path. But he couldn’t help feeling out of place and paranoid. The feeling that all that was missing were chains and he could have been mistaken by a prisoner. Why couldn’t they allow him to stay in his rooms? They, Odin, and the whole realm had never cared much for him. At some point they had judged him and upon deciding he’d never be on par with his brother, they made him the jealous brother, delegated to the background, and
not to be trusted. Forever in the shadow of his brighter sibling. So now, why couldn’t they let him simply fade away? He would be giving them all what they wanted, would he not?
Upon arriving to the dining room, he stood still in front of the closed door, but didn’t move to enter. They guards thankfully didn’t hurry him.
He stood there and breathed, fighting the feeling to blink himself away, reappear somewhere new and never come back. But of course, though he had greatly traveled for his age, he had not yet ventured outside of Igdrasil, and what good would it be to run if he stayed within the nine? He could hide from Heimdal, change his appearance to yet another disguise, but he had no misconceptions about being able to ignore the golden realm. As self proclaimed protectors of the nine, they had a hand everywhere, Odin had a hand everywhere. No. What he really wished was to escape fully. Far enough that he could truly forget the mess his life was turning out to be.
But. Through his hurt and confusion, he could acknowledge that was an empty wish, he indeed held love for this family. Even if they had all betrayed him in a way. His mother and brother, even his father, he loved them. A big part of him wanted to believe they’d genuinely meant well. That they could explain and it would make sense and he’d… he didn’t know if he could accept it, but he wanted to listen. Hadn’t Odin threatened war over him? Hadn’t Thor stood between him and Laufey even after he’d seen him turn blue?
He walked forward and made to open the doors, the guards took his cue and opened it for him. There they were, and he had to take another second. All three of them sat in their usual places. All in one end of the huge table that could easily fit thirty. The Allfather at the head with Thor to his right and his mother to the left, and his empty spot waiting next to his mother’s.
Truthfully, it was a familiar scene, they had once often shared their first meal in this room together. Now it all looked a bit skewed. He could no longer explain away why they looked so different from him, so golden and bright where he was dark and pale. All blond haired and blue eyed. He had always suspected of course, but never could he have expected the level of horror that turned out in the end. After hearing one too many times the not so quiet speculations of their people, said just loud and close enough for him to overhear. Well, even he had to recognize he looked different from his parents, and the contrast with Thor was stark. He’d heard them wonder whether he was product of one of Odin’s side aventures and accepted by the Queen, or perhaps of an accident by her. After all, the war was so terribly long and lonely. The common conclusions was that the king did need a second heir to secure his place.
Just then the guard next to the door announced him, interrupting him from his thoughts. The guard used that short familiar way reserved for private settings, “His Highness, Prince Loki”. At this his mother turned immediately and smiled “my son, we are so glad you join us finally”. She said it as if it had been his decision, like she had not been there just awhile ago. He heard the guards close the door. Except for the servants coming in to deliver dishes, they were left in privacy during meals.
He took notice of how Thor kept focused on eating, how his fingers tightened on the fork. He vaguely wondered whether Thor had gotten any punishment at all for the travel that started this madness. His father didn’t acknowledge him at first, but as he walked forward as gracefully as he could and took his seat, he finally subtly turned to look at him with his one eye.
“Loki, finally. There is much you have to do to make up for the missed work my son. I expect you’ll be there tomorrow for the celebrations” Then he went back to focusing on his plate.
Loki stared at him. His mouth slightly open.
“Is that all you have to say?”
Odin only glanced up once “What more is there to talk about?” He asked “You were sick, now your health has improved, you must retake your responsibilities and that is all”
He couldn’t believe his father was talking like nothing had happened. He had hoped he would get an explanation that he could somehow believe, something that showed that his father, no, his family actually cared, that he had not only been brought here as some sort of tool, another relic to be kept hidden and controlled. That not everything had been a lie. But he never expected, had not even thought to worry that he would be denied any explanation at all.
“You intend for me to sit at this table, like nothing happened? Like I am still unaware of just how asserted everyone’s guesses were? How I actually am the monster everyone thinks me to be? You intend for me to keep playing the role of your son?” He feels gutted. He has tried so hard, all this time, just to fit in. To convince everyone that he actually belongs here, that he is a worthy of being called a son of Odin. And this is just, this is just cruel.
“What else would you like to do? Do you want to tell everyone?”
“Odin,-“ His mother tries to interrupt.
“No! But I deserve more than this! I deserve an explanation. I deserve to know why you took me. Laufey was right. You-, you killed thousands during the war, I bet infants were not the exception. So why? Was it because of who my parents were? Just tell me the truth, pleasefather. For once, talk to me. Tell me, was I meant to be a puppet king? Or was I supposed to be a hostage of war until you realized my life carried no weight, that I was a runt already cast away to die?!” He was yelling, and his eyes were burning. He rarely lost control of his emotions in this way. He felt angry and he wanted to punch something.
“I hate to repeat myself Loki, but I will say it once more. No matter where you were born, or from who, or even whatever plans might have or not existed, you are now a Prince of Asgard, of the nine by extension. It is not a gift easly given” Never mind he had never asked or had the choice to be turned into a lie “and it is not, as you have been taught all your life, a pleasure to enjoy, but a duty to serve the people. You now know the truth of your origins, there is nothing to do about it, nothing but to forget” The rage drained from him, he felt numb and so so stupid right then. The Allfather had never been warm to him. Never outright hateful, but always dismissive and cold. So why had he expected this to be different? For a second he had expected to hear something else, some reassurance from the man who he loved dearly and who he admired. The man he had always called father. After all this was not a disregard of a magic spell he had learned or even of his potential to become king, this was… his life, his identity, his existence.
His vision clouded and he felt tears falling but they didn’t fully register. He turned “Mother?”. But she was looking at Odin, then she seemed to nod to herself.
“Loki, I know you are confused, but you must know we love you, you are our son. Since the moment you arrived, you became ours, as much as Thor is.” At the mention of his brother’s name he glance at him. His fists were resting on the table, and he was looking in the Allfather’s direction. If he felt Loki’s gaze, he ignored it. “There is no reason to doubt our love for you. Dwelling on it and the past, it will do us no good.”
He was lost for words. He just did not understand how ignoring it would be better. It was like themselves just wanted to forget about it, wanted to continue to ignore their son was actually a monster. Not caring what he wanted at all.
But he could never forget.
Odin’s voice rang clear and definitive. “We shall never again talk about this. You will stop hiding in your rooms and start acting as you must, or so help me Loki, I will make you”.
He stared at them all, they all avoided his eyes and ate. His mother eventually started conversation about some incident in the city. He heard his brother answer a couple times, only when directly questioned.
Loki stared at his food for the rest of the meal and tried not to vomit.