Chapter 48
Loki felt far more raw than he should. He had, after all, just uttered his life's tragedy to a group of near strangers, but at the same time he knew he should not be feeling this raw just stating such things. He may not have gotten over his pa...Odin's betrayal, but at the same time...perhaps he would need to, if he was going to have to start talking about his home, he did not think crying every time that he talked about it would be conductive. He had intended to invoke some sort of pity, knowing that it was quite easy, and he was ready to falsify his tears, but having actual tears exit his eyes was not part of the plan. He knew that it was trauma, and gods knew that he had more than enough of that, but at the same time the betrayal still stung. It had been some time already, and usually Loki was not so sensitive to betrayals, but perhaps this was the last straw in a line of betrayals, just waiting to break him down.
On the plus side it had done what he had intended it to do, and they had been allowed room and board with no further questions, though he was cautious of what that black haired sorcerer wanted with him. He was not entirely blind, after all, he noticed how they had stared at him with dark glittering eyes. It would have been unnerving if he was nothing more than a mere human, but he was lucky enough to not be. He was also one to notice that he was the only person among the company to have their own room. Aragorn had shared a look with him, but Loki knew that it would do more harm than good to deny the hosptiality of their host, particularly one that was being used by someone and did not even have the will to notice or break the thread of control that was laced through him. Furthermore, he could not bring himself to care about being alone at night. He could take care of himself, though he was not sure that was what others saw, particularly after he had regaled his past in front of them. He noticed the worry and pity in their gaze, as they realized he was not lying.
He was not entirely telling the truth, though, was he? Loki felt his mind remembering a falling feeling, the stars echoing through his eyes as he closed them against his brother's view, and his father's disappointment. He couldn't help but laugh at the horror his life had turned since returning from Jotunheim. He could not believe that such a simple thing could ruin his life, and change everything. Now, he knew the truth, and it was far more painful than anything else he thought he could bear. Before, he had at least some hope, but now he knew, beyond anything, that he would have never been enough for his father, and that his brother would not have hesitated to kill him the moment he knew the truth. Perhaps that was why he let go, worry over what his brother would do to him, what Asgard would do, when they realized their hated second prince was really a Jotunn. Nothing good, of course.
He heard the stories, the fantasies of most Asgardian warriors. What they longed to do if they could get their hands on Jotunn scum. Realizing that he was one had left him bereft and left ashore. There was no hiding from the truth once it came out, and he was as good as dead anyways. He knew what Odin had planned. Surely they would not allow him to live, no matter what purpose he could be to the Asgardian crown it was useless now that he realized the truth of everything. It did not really matter, his convictions, his emotions, his feelings, his father would never care for them...Odin would never care for them...Thor would merely crush them as he normally did in his stupid idiotic way.
Loki startled at a knock that came on his door. He was almost certain that it was likely Legolas, or Haldir, or both. He had not heard them come up, and those two seemed to be the only ones able to catch him off guard enough to actively startle him. He expected nothing more from elves, of course, but it was still frustrating at the best of times. Not having much time to make himself more presentable, Loki allowed his magic to waft green over him and wipe all traces of grief and reminicent memories from his figure before he strode to the door and opened it, facing...neither elf. He stared at the sorcerer who stood at his door, shock flooding through him.
He had not expected...but he supposed he should. Everyone wanted something from him, and it was folly to think that this one would be any different, allowing him some sort of breath to breathe and get settled. Fate was never so kind as that. He was not allowed peace, it would seem. They had seen to that when he tried to die and they had found some twisted way to keep him alive. The strange man stared through him, almost, and Loki startled backwards when he entered the room. He had known that the sorcerer would come, after all that was why he figured he was isolated from the others. It did not bother him, but it was unsettling being caught in such a state of disarray but moments before. Even if he did not look the part, Loki knew his emtions were swirling dangerously about him, his magic lingering uncomfortably close to the surface.
"It is good to meet you, Loki..." The word was almost a question, but Loki did not divulge more, merely staring the other man down.
"You seem to be at a slight advantage," Loki could not help but state. "As you know my name yet I am deprived of yours."
"Grima, is my name, right hand to the King," Loki nodded once, not betraying any emotion regarding that.