Rain
He walked into his chambers. The room was a spacious and luxurious affair, green and golden stood out in all the furniture. Seeing it, he felt his chest tighten. He always thought that his rooms reflected his personality. As he got older, he started choosing everything in the room more carefully, he wanted to create a safe haven for himself. But now, it seemed it was only a reminder of everything he had been and no longer was, a reminder of simple times when he was prince and not a monster.
He couldn't believe his whole reality had been destroyed no more than a week before. "Is your greed really that big?" Thor's words had hurt so terribly, they had cut so deeply, that he hadn't been able to keep his composure. If he had had an ounce less of pride maybe he would have started weeping right there in the middle of the throne room.
Why couldn't Thor see? Why did he think so poorly of him? After all this time he was so quick to assume the worst, so quick to judge Loki as an envious, greedy creature. The words were so painful that, in that moment, Loki just knew he had to get as far from the palace as possible. So, he fled, hoping to forget, to escape everything and everyone that reminded him how hated and disliked he was.
Over the years he had managed to secure himself a small cabin in the woods on the outskirts of Asgard. It was a great place to hide, but he never thought to just live there, because it would have been improper for a prince. But now, the room in the palace no longer was something he could call “his”; nothing in Asgard was.
He no longer was Loki of Asgard, but he wasn’t Loki of Jotunheim either. He was nothing, he didn’t belong anywhere, no realm would ever want him. He laughed bitterly; maybe moving to the cabin would be appropriate now, perfect for a homeless person, perfect for Loki of Nowhere.
He was not expecting to go back to the palace, really, but he hadn't made preparations for a long stay either and he could feel Frigga scrying for him, a constant and looming presence. He knew she was no fool and even if several times before she had let him disappear for weeks on end, this time there was an awkward truth hanging over their heads, and she wouldn’t just let it go.
He figured it was best to come back, explain himself and arrange everything to leave permanently. He didn’t think Frigga and Thor would care anymore once he formally renounced his titles. Yet, both of them were incredibly warm and welcomed him as if they had been worried about him. How could they? Maybe he could understand Thor, even if the fool thought so poorly of him, he still considered him his brother, he didn't know that there was nothing between but a millennia of lies. But Frigga, how could Frigga act that way when she knew she was not his mother? How could she welcome him “home”, when there was no home to come back to?
He felt something wet on his face. Norns, was he crying again? Lately it felt as if that was the only thing he knew how to do. Well, it was actually the only thing he did in the cabin, that and drinking mead. He was a sobbing, drunken mess during those three days, and if he was honest to himself, he wished he could continue being just that. He didn’t feel so miserable while inebriated, he didn't need to think, and his tears didn't feel as shameful.
Coming back meant having to act “normal”, having to put on all the masks again. But it didn't go as swiftly as he had expected. Throughout the day he found himself having to hide because his eyes were watery against his will, he found himself losing his focus, drifting away. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't act and look like "Prince Loki" normally did. The persona he had created for himself was broken, and he couldn't recreate it. His interaction with Sif was proof of it, why did he let her see him that way?It was pathetic.
He was pathetic and stupid, but he couldn't help it. There was a horrible stinging feeling sitting on his chest, a feeling stronger than anything he had felt in his life. Was it… sadness? Grief? Melancholy? He couldn't name it, but he knew it felt like an angry dark ocean threatening to consume him. Maybe he would let it take him, maybe he would let himself sink until there was nothing left. Nobody would care anyways.
He realized he had been standing in the same spot for several minutes. He slowly started walking to the bed, but stopped by the window. The sky was so grey lately. Gloomy, like everything else in his life. It wasn't raining, though, it never rained in Asgard, not unless Thor made it so. He wished it would rain, maybe seeing the sky cry would make him feel less ashamed of his own tears. If it rained, Loki thought, he would feel as if at least something in Asgard understood the way he felt. But those were only useless fantasies. He was alone now, he had better get used to it.
He got closer to the bed. Norns. He was tired. He took off his shoes, his jacket; and slowly climbed into bed. His limbs hurt and he wondered why. He wasn't ill or hurt, not really. But his whole body ached in an unusual way and it just added to the complete exhaustion he felt. He just wanted to sleep, sleep forever and wake up in another life, one where he didn’t have to feel as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest, one where he didn’t hate himself as much as he did, one where he had an actual family, a future.
Maybe in his dreams he could stop the rain pouring down inside of him.