Manipulation of Memories and Minds

The next day approached much more quickly than you had anticipated.

A soft knock wound its way into your sleep and woke you, yawn escaping your throat as you moved to sit up in your borrowed bed in your borrowed room. You had talked with the imprisoned Prince for much longer than you had thought you would, having barely made your way up the stairs in exhaustion and merely managed to collapse on top of the soft, almost velvet blankets before you were lulled to sleep in an instant.

Your eyes threatened to close once more as you gave an affirmative call, trying to ease the remnants of rest out of of the corner of your eyes with a gentle rub, momentarily blurring your view as you caught Aldís’ familiar colors—blue and brown—stepping through the door. The more your sight cleared, the more you found your mouth to gape. Her usual attire seemed much more festive than before; dark hair held up in an elegant updo, silver hair clip keeping even the wildest strands in its grasp, blue gown embellished with many more silvery threads. Even the sleeves, which were long and faded to a purple at the bottom hem, had an almost festive looking pattern encircling it upwards like a snake.

The only thing that matched her look from yesterday were her eyes; blue dimmed to a gray gleaming with remaining sorrow like rain clouds pushing themselves in front of the glowing sun, a contrast to her dark skin as she obviously recalled the events of the day before. Catching your worried frown she cast you a slim smile, almost apologetical and kind of...sheepish?

And then she took a step aside—you would have spluttered with your drink if you had had any, and could only be glad that you were going thirsty instead.

Directly behind her stood the Queen herself, who you recognized from the painting hanging with you in the same room; a yellow gown draped elegantly from her shoulders and her light hair in a similar updo to Aldís’, only much more meticulously pinned to her head with two strands framing her face in soft curls. She entered with her hands folded in front of her, posture straight up and her head held high.

You scrambled to stand, almost falling to the floor as your feet got caught up in the blanket dropping to the floor in your rush.

The Queen, head of the kingdom and person having aided in your recovery, who had also taken time out of her day to figure out what could have possibly befallen you...and person having seen you half dead back when you had been brought to Asgard knocked out cold, stood in the room with you right now, watching you struggle in her presence.

How embarrassing.

“Your, your High—your Majesty,” you blurted out, scrambling to remember correct etiquette as you had never before been confronted so directly with royalty, royalty that acted the part that is. Sure, there was Thor who had introduced himself to you as a Prince, and Loki, who the former had referred to as his brother and therefore declared of royal descent as well.

But the two of them simply didn’t carry the grace the Queen standing before you did, the wisdom surrounding her along with a serene beauty not many people could possibly carry.

In other words, she was a Queen.

With your heart beating in your throat all the way up to your ears you almost didn’t catch Aldís properly introducing the both of you to each other and only reacted with an improvised, clumsy curtsy once you recalled your name being said.

The smile coming from her in response calmed you almost immediately.

“Dear, there is no need to fret,” she spoke, voice just as filled with warmth as the sunlight filtering through the glass leaving sunspots on the red carpet, “I have merely arrived to express my gratitude.”

Your mouth fell open ever so slightly against all forms of proper etiquette you had ever been taught.

“Huh?”

“You have aided my son quite a lot over the course of your stay on Asgard,” she explained, her honest smile slowly but surely melting the tension you felt away like the wax of a candle burning down, “I have observed his progress thoroughly and have taken note of it during my visits.”

She took a step closer to where you were standing amidst the blanket on the carpet, sunlight bathing her making her look even more of a goddess and you shot Aldís a helpless look, yet she merely grinned in response.

“I am aware that he has caused great difficulties on Midgard and I thank you for your unparalleled diligence in helping him in spite of all he has inflicted on your kind.”

You could only feel the blood rush to your face at her words, involuntarily taking a step back to steady yourself and almost tripping over all the cloth draping down from the bed in heaps of fabric.

“This—“ you swallowed, averting your eyes, “This is nothing to thank me for, your Majesty.”

“Nonsense!” She gave a light laugh, gently grasping your hand as if to aid you in feeling her sincerity—not that you needed it, reading it clearly in her eyes, “Please do accept my gratitude.“ 

With a last, sweet look at you she turned around and motioned to Aldís, who gave a quick curtsy in response.

“I will be leaving—“ her steps were fading just as she spoke, halfway through the door— “Aldís will aid you in preparing for later.”

And the door fell closed.

The brunette stepped up with a bright smile not quite yet managing to fully reach her eyes as she moved to collect something she apparently had laid down on the table earlier, without you noticing in your shock regarding the Queen’s unexpected presence. In her hands loads of clothes along with a new coat sitting on top of the heap like the star sitting on a Christmas Tree, immediately catching your attention.

What?

———

Tea flooded your system more than it should, all in hopes of the anxiety reducing effects working its miracle; yet it mostly only made you feel like a water tank walking on legs. Thor was leading the way with his red cape billowing behind him, silver and gold glistening even more so from his embellished armor parts making him glow more than ever before. Aldís and Ragnarr walked along beside you, to act as emotional support you assumed, the latter having taken the day off, clothes polished up like everybody else’s with extra hints of silvery webbed thread and meticulously cleaned shoulder plates.

You weren’t sure yet if you were grateful for their presence or not, all the extra attention did make you feel rather queasy, even more so than you already felt.

Even you had been given a new set of clothes purely for attending this ‘event’. Part of the Queen’s gratitude, Aldís had explained, presenting you with a new set of clothes for you to wear.

Made of fabric, smooth and plain, which was easy to move in, cut once more fit to not be too traditional, but still enough to fit right in with a pair of pants and boots to match. Parts of the cloth were vaguely adorned with silver embroidery, enough to catch the eye of people who truly looked, but not enough to draw attention to you.

Yet the one thing exciting you the most, was the coat that came with it. It was sturdier than the rest of the fabric with cuts placed between your arms and body to not restrict your movement too much but still give you your much valued sense of anonymity by allowing you to practically hide in the knee length cloth. Light embroidery resulted in a vague diagonal pattern adorning the coat, giving it a slightly more modern look.

The clothes were a result of everyone’s suggestions, Aldís had informed you as she handed them over to you, and you immediately recognized tiny aspects of it from the friends you had gained over your month long stay.

Basic cloth from the Queen, silver embroidery made by Aldís herself, boots and pants ideas from Ragnarr and Thor, Ragnarr most likely having thought of the times you were out on Asgard adventuring, while Thor tried to make you feel closer to Earth by using what he saw most people wear. 

And the coat—Loki. 

After all the time you had spent with him in the dungeons he must have picked up on how much you valued wearing enough fabric to make you feel invisible, to help you hide, as knowing how easily other people’s emotions and secrets were laid bare to you made you feel naked without.

The steps of the four of you walking through the hallways in silence made your mind wander back to the situation at hand, and in times like these, you tried to force positive thoughts through the flock of negativity roaming your brain like animals set loose, making you feel nauseous beyond belief. After all your experience almost equaled zero, with only one case to date in which it had worked—one case that had been years ago and one you only figured worked because of your incessant questioning of said memory following your desperate attempts of repairing what you had broken.

With shaky hands you held onto the coat covering you, pulling it closer around you as if trying to let it swallow you whole.

Think. Positive.

A chapter will end. Finally. After all this waiting and hoping for Thor to return with the necessary permission to enter Loki’s cell, you finally get to transfer what didn’t belong to you back to him and call it a day.

Only that this wouldn’t break the connection you and your souls shared, something which was said to persist even after both of your deaths. And what if you simply failed to hand them back? What if something else happened, something equally or possibly, even more terrifying than the knowledge of having failed something which involved more people than simply yourself? What if—

[...Little One...]

The silent call resonating from within your mind made you break out of your downwards spiraling chain of negative thoughts once more.

[Loki.]

[Yes.]

For a moment you only heard the sound of steps, of shoes against stone and marble, echoing through the hallways and bouncing off the walls in an almost rhythmic pattern. Along with it the sound of a heartbeat, yours.

Sounding loud enough for you, still, to quiet everything else in comparison.

[Everything will be alright.]

You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to fight against his well meaning words with a sword made of your doubts.

[I hope so.]

———

Descending the stairs down into the dungeons had never felt that crushing and terrifying before, much like you assumed an actual walk to the gallows would, despite you not even being the prisoner in case. There were people walking before you and people walking behind, a group consisting of the four of you, as well as the Queen with an additional set of two soldiers guarding her steps.

The King, obviously, had no intentions of partaking, whereas the Queen apparently wanted to be emotional support for her son. From what Aldís had told you, it took Thor and the Queen their combined efforts to talk the King into letting them enter the dungeons just this once with what possible arguments you couldn’t even imagine.

As soon as the room opened wide and your eyes grew accustomed to the few flickering bowls of fire in the corners and the ominous yellow glow radiating from the cubicle cells encased in stone, your eyes locked with Loki’s. An immediate pull caused your attention to gravitate towards each other and your only way to respond was with an uneasy smile, dripping with the sadness from the pain of yesterday. Much to your surprise a sad smile of his own graced his features as a silent answer, which only turned more genuinely happy for a split second as his eyes darted to your coat in what might have been silent appreciation.

The time had come and despite all the calming tea as well as the proximity of both of your souls, your heart started skyrocketing again. There were just too many doubts lingering behind and poisoning your mind; all the what’s and what if’s and the questions of whatever will happen after you have succeeded...Will it honestly work to tear the two of you apart after all you now knew of your connection? Of your condition?

The metallic creak and shifting of shackles and restraints called your attention back to reality and you could only watch in dry horror as the guards, who had entered his cell, were starting to roughly chain his arms and legs together, placing a collar around his throat and making it shut with a goosebumps inducing snap, crawling up your back like a shiver up your spine. Ragnarr next to you took in a breath through almost clenched teeth, creating a slight hissing noise and you cast him a glance to see a mixture of anger and terror painting his expression grim and dark.

You were given a nod from the same guards you barely registered, forcing Aldís to give you a gentle push with a quiet wish for the best of luck as you stumbled onwards, starring at the barrier with furrowed brows.

The same barrier you had spent hours upon hours, days upon days sitting in front of, talking through it to the Prince currently standing shackled with his eyes glued on you as you carefully made your way to the opening. Every step made your legs feel more and more heavy as if they were turning to lead and you couldn’t help but ponder the fight or flight instinct creeping into your body opting for flight.

The chains holding Loki were pulled taught, restricting his movements to the bare minimum and you searched his face for emotions but came out empty handed, only finding his attention fixated on you as you hesitantly stepped closer. You wanted to say something, desperately so, but the tension filling the room only grew bigger with every second left in silence, worsened only by the guards lingering presence, everyone’s eyes burning holes into your body.

Your name being called snapped you out of it, and you looked at Loki standing shackled before you with a look of concern and fear contorting your face.

[I’m afraid.]

A light smile spread on his lips, an almost sorrowful one.

[I know.]

The sound of the rattling chains whenever he breathed, whenever the guards shifted in their stance sent your heart beating so much you feared it to leap out of your chest and you only recounted Aldís’ advice from the day before—slowly starting to count in your head and adjusting your breathing until the sounds disturbing you faded to mere background noise.

With a nod to whoever noticed you raised your hands and closed your eyes, carefully, beginning to reach for his head. For but a moment your fingertips graced his skin, making the both of you flinch in agonizing anticipation before your palms gently came to rest on his temples. You found yourself standing close, almost awkwardly so as his breath tickled the top of your head and you, for the first time in weeks, found him to be real.

The skin below your hands was his and it was real, he was a person with fears and doubts, with hopes and dreams just as you and you found your hands to subconsciously withdraw from his head.

[No.]

You opened your eyes, staring right into his green ones as the stared down at you with steadfast resolve. Once again you felt him an image of yourself, saw his pain and fear through the windows of his soul and felt his determination as yours.

With a breath you closed your eyes and let yourself be consumed by his mind.

———

Darkness, everywhere.

Shrouding and clouding every nook and corner of his mind from himself as much as from you and you forced yourself to go deeper, deeper, much deeper into his subconsciousness, felt the memories appear one after the other as more and more of them reached the light; your light. It was almost overwhelming, the flood of images appearing after having torn through the first couple of layers of darkness—which fought whenever you attempted to break through, fought to remain whole and continue hiding whatever he deemed undesirable to be laying underneath.

There was a twinge in the back of it all, tearing at the veil of black on its own accord, almost in rhythm to your own tries.

[Loki?]

Just as a silent response the final layer tore open and you found yourself surrounded by his memories, by him.

You took your position as an anchor, binding yourself to him as a link  between his memories persisting within you and his mind. Pulling at your own being you felt and shifted through your own memories, quickly discerning yours from his and beginning to loosen the threads linking them to you, one after the other.

The deep anguish of not understanding who, or even what you were, with no one around to guide you out of the dark pit you had fallen into.

You felt the strings twist and snap under your efforts, reattaching themselves to Loki as if they had a conscience of their own; as if they knew who they actually belonged to

Just as you felt the memory cross over, you sensed the other one, manipulated one get pushed out, overwritten. It played out like a video running on TV. A man, the King screaming at you, calling you a worthless creature as you laid broken and crumbled, yet filled with rage beyond belief on the cold tile floor.

“You were never truly my son and never will be. You are no part of this family.”

The words stung you as you heard them; a bee’s stinger left behind to quietly poison you while you scrambled to free yourself from its influence. Almost with an audible click you knew the process was done and moved onto the next.

A broken bridge in the darkness, a loose grip on a your father’s weapon being held by your brother in a desperate attempt to save you. The desire to eradicate a species to prove your worth, to prove your difference and distance yourself from the likes of them. The knowledge that your father—he, who you had tried to prove yourself to—was disappointed in your doings, your best attempts. 

And the feeling of letting go and falling into a void, letting go of what you believed to not be a part of, letting it behind as you knew you could never be loved by them.

“No.”

You would have never thought that such a simple word could hold that much of a meaning.

The other one, the fake memory pushed itself into your vision just like the last one had, and you braced yourself for the impact.

Hopes for a better future crushed by your brother, the perfect son. Desperate pleas to him as he stood before you, almost threateningly so, looking you into the eyes as if you were the enemy. And you couldn’t deny yourself knowing that you were.

Your pleas, answered with mere dismissal.

And a push down into the abyss.

There was fear, so much terror and fear before it all turned to anger, to blank, white rage.

It was just like Loki had said.

With all strings reattached and even the memory of him seeing you take his memories all the way back on Stark’s Tower back where it belonged, you couldn’t help but hesitate. Your energy had already drained significantly and the pure thought of even remotely going through the agony of that memory again froze you on spot.

Yet you knew this was no time to back down, and so, with much more strength than you had hoped, you conjured the memory again, beginning to tear the strings binding it to you.

Feeling the sensations for another time you couldn’t help but be even more aware of everything as it happened; the uncomfortably warm breath mixed with a laugh of the creature cowering behind you, the dust and dirt swirling around and further clogging your nose, throat and eyes, and even the way your forehead created a dent to momentarily accept the gem’s physical form as it was pressed into your skin and skull. The agony of the fire, the flames scorching your skin and the terror seeing the titan stand before you.

The feeling of being unmade.

Only this time it lasted much longer and it drained more and more of your strength and made it harder and harder for you to hold onto Loki’s mind as you felt your formless being flicker and falter in the agony of the excruciating experience, felt yourself almost get pushed out of his mind as you let out a cry to fight and stay.

Sensations of your physical body were mixed together with your formless one residing in Loki’s mind and you could vaguely feel your hands beginning to shake along with your legs, the pain growing to be more than you could ever hope to bear—as if what you had experienced before hadn’t even been the full memory; cut off due to a self defense mechanism of your body to protect you from the entire incident.

After all, hadn’t Thor said that their physique makes them more resilient..?

Out of nowhere you felt hands clasp your wrists, firmly but gently, holding them in place as if trying to steady you.

Something resounded within the both of you, bits and pieces coming through the pain and making you believe it to be your name. It sounded like a scream, a wail, contorted with so much agony you completely forgot what you were currently trying to do.

[Loki?]

There was no reply but suppressed screams and you could, in a way, feel his affirmative nod as if you yourself had moved your head.

[I—I can’t to this—]

[—I know.]

With these words floating over, you could vaguely feel the pain grow numb, numb enough to feel like a mere cramp twisting your body which you definitely preferred over the feeling of getting eradicated while being fully conscious. A sensation overcame you as if the agony was being drained out of you, redirected to somewhere away from you as your mind started to clear from the remedy of torture lingering to cloud your thoughts.

[Loki...?]

There was no answer.

With the desperate, agonizing screams filling the background until it appeared as nothing but static, the last string holding the memory to you snapped and reattached it to his mind. 

You barely managed to note the lack of a substitute memory, before you felt the grip—his grip on your wrists—slip, and you got thrown out of his mind to try and gain your orientation back in a world in which everything was too bright and too loud, in which you couldn’t help but fail to completely discern reality from memory as you tried to not fall to the floor under the sensations of both flooding you like water.

In but a second a body collided with yours and you instinctively clung onto it, using all your weight to keep who you know realized to be Prince Loki from falling. Your mind was still hazy, your breath hot and ragged as you vaguely felt a tear slide down your cheek, and your eyes searched for his in a desperate motion only to find them closed. 

With a trembling hand you reached for his face, just as the two guards yanked him away from you by the chains in a swift movement, restraints rattling as loud as gunshots to your overtly sensitive ears. You took a step forward, rage expressed through your clenched jaw and fists, before the floor got pulled away from under your feet and your world turned black. 

———

You awoke with only one realization in mind.

The feeling of fire and flames always having resided within the back of your mind for the past months was gone.