A truth revealed

[complicatedliar]

Loki made a good show of returning to his room. Not because he thought that Thor would have him followed; his brother didn't have a conniving bone in his body. Rather, Loki knew that people gossiped. That was their nature. He didn't want to give anyone a reason to talk about him, not now, with his paranoia cranked to its highest level. Particularly not when idle gossip very well could make its way back to Thor's ears, when everyone wanted the curry favor with the man, preferably at Loki's expense.

In his room, he cloaked himself with invisibility and then left again by passing through the wall. Strides quick but muffled with magic, he made his way down to the vault. A quick spell had the guards on a wild hare chase, looking for a noise that kept moving further down the hall.

The vault was one of Loki's favorite places in the palace. He enjoyed the artifacts, all of the history and the way the place breathed with power. While he hadn't been allowed to make use of any of the more interesting artifacts, he could still at least touch and inspect them, consider situations where their use might be needed.

Loki didn't pause to do his normal slow inspection of the place. He dropped the invisibility as he entered the vault, walking quickly to the back where the Casket of Ancient Winters waited. He paused a few feet from it, mouth suddenly gone dry as if he was faced with a poisonous snake. His hands shook, the urge to turn and leave almost overwhelming.

But no. He needed to know the truth. He couldn't plan properly without possessing all the facts of a situation. And...

He needed to know.

Loki gripped the sides of the Casket, felt it respond to his touch as if he were an old friend, not some Aesir captor. He watched its power wash the color from his skin, leaving him pale and blue, riddled with the markings of the Jotun. Its power chilled his heart, filled his brain with ice so that he couldn't think.

He jerked his hands away, stumbling back a few steps. Loki held his hands in front of his eyes, steady now, inspecting the new skin that was suddenly his clinically, like it belonged to someone else. There was no denying this; the evidence was irrefutable. Even as he warmed slowly, hand once again returning to the shade he thought of as natural, he still felt that chill within him. It had been there all along, really, had made him different, let him measure and consider when his fellows always charged in.

He was a Jotunar.

As if that was a puzzle piece he'd been missing, so many more things made sense now. That he'd always been weaker than the others, that he'd looked at the world in a different way, that he'd never gotten along with people the way Thor did, that they always looked at him as if there was something fundamentally wrong that they couldn't quite articulate.

There was something fundamentally wrong. He was a monster, somehow hidden in their midst.

More questions flowed through his mind - how had he ended up here? Why had Odin claimed him as a son? What had been his purpose? There must have been some higher purpose, because Odin never did anything without a reason. It was the one place where he and Loki had always understood each other, looking at the world as some sort of great chess board.

Loki took a few, unsteady steps toward the door of the vault, but no. Odin was beyond questioning right now.

Did Frigga know? How could she not?

Think. He couldn't think. There were too many questions, too much emotion welling up, rage and betrayal and something far colder - hatred. He gritted his teeth around all of those feelings, fought the urge to scream, scratch at his own skin as if that would somehow deny the truth. That would do him no good. No amount of denial could erase what he had seen.

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, to focus enough that he could cast a cloak of invisibility again. Then he left the vault, feet taking him to Odin's room.

His mother looked startled when he stepped through the wall, crossing the floor to stand in front of her. He remembered many times he'd come to Frigga as a boy, sniffling around a bloody nose, kneeling beside her an resting his head in her lap. He wished that he could do that again, but things were no longer that simple.

Hands clenched at his sides, Loki said, "I know that you are not my mother, and Odin is not my father. What I do not know is why." It came out far more bluntly than he'd intended, all in a rush, but he at least didn't scream the words, maintained some semblance of control.

Frigga's face went pale, tears - what reason had she to cry? - showing bright in her eyes. She shook her head, holding her hands out to him. "Oh Loki. You are our son."

He did fall to his knees then, because his legs simply would no longer hold him up. Frigga pulled him closer, one hand stroking his hair. Quietly, she told him how Odin had brought an abandoned child - the son of Laufey - home from Jotunheim, how she'd cared for him and raised him as their own, how she had wanted to tell him the truth, but Odin had disagreed. How they hadn't wanted Loki to feel different.

But he had, he wanted to say. Every hour of every day, he'd been different, and everyone else had known even if they hadn't been able to articulate why. No sound emerged from his throat.

"You are our son," Frigga repeated, hand still stroking his hair. "You will always be."

Loki closed his eyes, trying to incorporate all of this into his understanding of the world, of himself. At least now he knew why he'd always been treated like an unworthy bastard, why Thor had always been Odin's favorite. No one would want a monster on the throne of Asgard. Suddenly it made Odin's words - that they had both been born to be kings - a cruel joke. Loki had been an abandoned runt, the supposed heir to a ruined realm. It seemed somehow fitting.

No.

No, he would prove himself worthy. He would show that he was as strong as Thor, and far more clever besides. He would show Odin that he was as good a son. And perhaps he could remove the taint of his blood as well. Because if all of the Jotun were gone, no one could count Loki among their number. And if it was he who slew all of the monsters, well, there was no choice but to call him a hero.

Beneath his cheek, Frigga's skirt was damp. Strange, and impossible, considering he hadn't been crying.

"Would you like me to... tell Thor?" Frigga's voice was hesitant.

Loki smiled. The expression felt strange and wooden. "Don't worry, mother. I'll take care of the situation myself."

Comments

[thunders]

Thor nodded his ascent. They would be better poised to strike with the position of Asgard's enemies in mind, and the peace Odin so fondly spoke of would come when there were no more whispered secrets and false alliances.

Thoughts of battle came to an abrupt halt as his brother spoke, at first because he could not believe such a thing possible, and then because he knew Loki would truly be willing to do it. And he considered it, for a moment, knowing that Loki spoke the truth: the other realms would fall into line after such a display, for what choice would they have when they could easily be destroyed? But what would Asgard think of that? A king who would sit back to kill from afar, who ruled through fear, not respect. A king who would slaughter an entire race that had already been broken once by Odin.

"Brother..." He replied slowly. "What madness is this? If we use the Bifrost, what will that prove? That Asgard fears battle so much we would strike against an enemy who has not yet declared war - that we would slaughter an entire race to teach the others fear? No, the Bifrost is not an option."

[complicatedliar]

"Is it madness?" Loki demanded, hands dropping to his sides as he stalked toward his brother, fingers clenching into firsts. "Is it? They are beasts, Thor, without honor or pride. They deserve to be slaughtered as such for daring to challenge their masters. Father took the battle to them, but he had too much mercy to finish the job. And they have spat upon his mercy and shown themselves to be animals that no longer remember to properly fear what is greater and more dangerous."

He paced slowly around Thor, cold rage and hatred in every line of his expression, along with something even deeper: loathing. "You have heard all the stories. You know them by heart as I do. These things are weak and pathetic, unworthy of standing even in our shadow, let alone daring to touch us. They do not deserve even a single drop of our blood."

[thunders]

Thor squared his shoulders, eyes narrow. It was unlike Loki to be so eager for war - even as children, when the Allfather told them tales of great battles, it had always been Thor who was eager and Loki who had been silent as a shadow. What was more, this was not eagerness in him; it was bloodlust, anger, and hatred so vast and deep that Thor could not begin to understand it.

"You forget that our father defended the mortal realm from their tyranny. He did not fight them because they were weak. He fought them because they abused their strength." He could no longer stand Loki's stalking about him, so he reached again for his brother. "What is it about them that burns you so? It is not only this proposed war against Asgard, or what has come before it." At least, he did not think so. Loki had never cared so deeply for Asgard's pride, or even Thor's, and what had happened to Sif... That had much more to do with Amora. "What is it you're not telling me, brother?"

[complicatedliar]

Loki started, grabbing Thor's wrist. For a moment he thought to slap his brother away, step back. But no, he could use this to his advantage. He let Thor take his shoulder, and struggled to put aside all of the emotion that had welled up in him. It felt like a scream trapped in his throat, and he wasn't used to being so tangled up in his own feelings.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, for a moment staring at the floor as if he'd been caught, ashamed. It was an act, he told himself. He wasn't truly ashamed. Or perhaps... no, at the very least soon he would have no need for such shame. "Forgive me, brother. King. I have let my temper master me, and I should know better than that."

Loki looked back up at Thor, meeting his brother's eyes. He let some of the utter hollowness he felt creep into his gaze. "You saw what was done to Sif. Her injuries are as much on their hands as the traitor's, and still they shelter that... bitch. They would make an ally of her in their attack upon us." He shook his head, swallowed hard as if he fought some queasiness. "You have not seen them as I have. I have walked among them to gather the news I brought to you. They are beasts and I would be dead before I would let one set foot in Asgard or lay a hand upon one of her people. You know how little love I have for some of our fellows at times. Consider that, and understand that what I have seen and heard has left me... greatly disturbed."

[thunders]

Thor squeezed his shoulder once, but gave him time to put his thoughts in order. Perhaps Sif had not been wrong in thinking she was a great weakness for him, but that was through no fault of her own, or Loki's. The depth of that feeling was almost staggering, to cause this much distress even now, but it was understandable. Loki cared for few, but he cared for those few with everything in him.

And Thor could not say that he disagreed. Though all of this had been Amora's doing, he could not say he had any pity for those who knowingly allied themselves with her. Not once, but again. For the warning that it was, the Destroyer had clearly made no mark. And what was worse, he could not imagine the horrors that Loki had seen to return to him in such a state.

"Perhaps you are right," Thor replied finally, taking both of Loki's shoulders in his hands. "But we will not take them with the Bifrost. We will drag Amora back to Asgard and lay to waste all those who would dare defend her. We will show the jotun king what foolishness it is to strike against a child of Asgard." He shook Loki once, his plan set. "We will take them together, brother, just you and I."

[complicatedliar]

This was the best he would get from Thor, Loki knew that. Thor was too interested in the heat of battle, and not nearly pragmatic enough to be convinced of a much more efficient plan. That, and there was no way he could find to get his brother out of the way on such short notice, not with Thor ensconced on the throne.

So he would take what he could, and use this to its fullest.

He put his own hands on Thor's shoulders, gripping so hard that it made his arms tremble. "So be it. Promise me, brother. Promise me that none will survive our wrath."

[thunders]

Thor nodded. He had never seen his brother like this, and it spoke volumes of the gravity of the situation. He could not imagine saying no, when Loki asked him like this, as if his whole world depended upon the answer.

"Brother I swear to you," He replied gravely. "All who stand against us will fall."

[complicatedliar]

Loki nodded, bowing his head for a moment.

It would be up to him, then, to make certain that the Jotun would fight to the last, so that together he and Thor would cut every last one of them down. This, he could accomplish.

"Summon the generals," he said, voice quiet. Now that the course was set, the hottest of his anger drained away, leaving him exhausted.

And weak. So weak. But I know now what hideous flaw this is.

He shut his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. "I will ready myself. More intelligence must be gathered."

[thunders]

"A moment, brother." It was more a command than a question, but there was concern in it. "It does you no favors to work yourself until there is nothing left for the battle that comes. Will you not see the Lady whom you fight for, and rest a while by her side? It would do her spirit good, and yours I think, as well."

[complicatedliar]

Loki looked up, letting his hands drop away from Thor's shoulders. "Time is short," he said. "Particularly if you do not wish me to hamper their movements. I will need to move quickly."

He didn't want to see Sif, yet he also did. She was still the center of his world, the person he loved most. But he also couldn't imagine touching her, knowing what it was that lurked under his skin now. It made him feel faintly ill, to think of the years they'd had together, and he'd been some sort of slumbering monster the entire time.

"But of course you are right. I can only rest briefly, but I shall seek her out." He would do nothing of the kind. With the preparations for war, it was unlikely that there would be much time for his whereabouts while asleep to be a topic of discussion. "With your permission, I will bid you good night."

[thunders]

Thor nodded. "Good." He understood the need to be quick in matters such as this, and he would do Loki the respect of allowing him to set his own limits. But even still, he worried for his brother, and the toll this thing had taken before it truly even begun. At least he had consented to some rest.

"You look terrible." He added, frankly, and rested a hand briefly against the side of Loki's neck. "Go. Rest well, brother. When the bards write songs of our victory, I do not wish for them to sing of the darkness beneath your eyes."

[complicatedliar]

Loki closed his eyes, bowing his head for a moment. "I missed you too," he said. He slipped away from Thor, laughing quietly as he walked away. "When the bards sing of me, I think they shall have something else entirely on their minds."

Without explaining that statement, he left the room by the door. He was a bit tired to do his normal tricks, but hopefully he would be able to evade Sif all the same. He couldn't face her, not now.