Chapter 3
Loki had gone to his room. He was always sent to his room when he got into trouble, but this time he went on his own. He wanted to be alone.
He wasn't sleeping well at all. Not to mention how drained his seidr was becoming from keeping up his glamour. He was quite surprised that Frigga had not sensed the use of a glamour yet. She was very wise in the ways of magic, and her own seidr was powerful. Loki was still a boy, but he was nearly as powerful as his mother already.
The child stood in front of the rectangular mirror beside his bed and dropped the glamour. He sagged from relief. It was hard to keep the glamour going in front of others for hours on end. It used up a lot of energy. Still, looking at his reflection without it was rather traumatizing. It brought back scary memories.
Loki pulled the collar of his blue tunic down an inch or two. There was a dark purple ring of bruising around his neck. The discoloration only seemed to get worse by the day instead of better. Loki sneered at the marks. Just his luck. They'd probably never go away. He let go of his shirt and stared at his puffy, split lower lip. He touched it gingerly and winced.
Father would never understand what happened. He'd probably blame Loki, even though the child had walked in on something that was not his fault or any of his business...
The skin under his left eye was nearly black. His shoulder hurt, too, from where he'd been slammed into the wall. The back of his head was still tender. Fury twisted Loki's features.
He stomped over to the corner of the room. There on a stand sat his jar. It still glowed golden, keeping the butterflies inside in their frozen state. Only now there were three of them. Loki leaned close to peer at them. He made his most angry, menacing face.
"Hello," he growled. "Can you hear me?"
He smirked sadistically when he got no response.
"What's the matter? Too shy to speak?"
The child snickered at his own humor. His face fell.
"I should toss you off my balcony and watch the jar shatter," he said casually. "Smash you all to bits. I might do if I get bored enough."
He looked over the butterflies, posed against their wills on a tree branch.
"Could keep you like this forever, I dunno," he said, shrugging his shoulder. "Are you scared?"
The butterflies just sat there, of course.
"Good."
There was a soft knock on the door. Loki gasped, and even though he was so bloody tired, he snapped his glamour back into place. The bruises seemed to vanish, but he knew they were still there. He hurt so bad!
The boy rushed to the door. He was a bit breathless when he threw the door open. Frigga stood there, looking concerned as usual. She always looked at him that way lately.
"Hello, Mother," Loki managed. He forced a smile.
"I came to see if you're all right," the woman stated.
Loki's eyebrows rose. "Why?"
Frigga scoffed. "You were a bit upset at supper."
"No, I'm...I'm fine," he frowned.
"Hmm," said Frigga, sweeping past him. "Thor's worried, too."
"Sure he is," muttered the boy, following her as she went to sit on his bed.
She raised that one eyebrow, the one Loki found strangely intimidating, and crossed her arms. "He is. Your brother notices things. He thinks you're sad or upset about something, and he doesn't like it."
Loki stood before her and made a sour face. "He's my brother and he loves me, right? And Father loves me, too, right?"
Frigga reached out and took his hands in hers. "They do love you. I don't believe I care for this attitude, young man."
He hated it when his mother was disappointed in him. He pouted and stared at their hands. "Sorry."
"I don't want you to be sorry, Loki. I want you to believe that we love you, and I want you to tell me when you're upset or hurting. Do you hear me?"
She swung their hands from side to side until it became annoying. Loki looked into her eyes and saw the mischief there, that she was doing it to get a reaction from him, and he broke into a smile.
"Stop," he ordered, pulling her hands toward him until she stopped the swinging.
Frigga became serious. "Is there something bothering you?"
"No."
"Loki..."
"Do I have to say?"
"Is it something you don't want to talk about?"
"Yes."
"Why is that? Is it because it's something private or because you did something you don't want to get into trouble for?"
Frigga saw that her son was genuinely offended.
"Why do you all always think I did something wrong?"
Frigga teased, "Because you're a little boy and that's what little boys do."
Loki frowned. "'M not little."
She smiled. "All right."
They stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Frigga sighed. She kissed his forehead, hard.
"Will you think about telling me?" she nearly begged. "Please?"
He nodded.
"You should go to bed, dear. You look tired."
To his relief, his mother got up and headed for the door. She paused next to the large jar, making his heart stutter.
"Oh. More butterflies?"
His mouth went dry and he decided not to reply to that.
"Pretty," Frigga said softly before she left.
Blowing out a relieved breath, Loki sat on the edge of the bed. He waved a hand almost lazily, locking the door with his magic. He let the glamour drop, deciding he would go to bed.
He'd never been so tired.