Cleave | Loki x Reader

• three - odinforce •

Present day, Asgard

Loki

'I never get used to seeing him like this,' I say, my eyes scanning my father's features. He looks peaceful. For that I envy him.
'He's put it off for so long now that I fear,' Mother replies as her hand inadvertently brushes the left side of his face for the seventh time now. The veil of my mother's healing seiðr shines a bright light upon his sunken features.
'How long will it last?' I ask.
'I don't know. This time it's different,' she says. 'We were unprepared.'
'So, why did he lie?' For a moment my mother is silent. She didn't actually think I'd let it slide, now did she?
'He kept the truth from you so that you would never feel different. You are our son, Loki,' she answers. I take a deep breath at that but she's not yet finished, 'and we your family.'
'She is all that and so much more to me,' I say in nothing but utter honesty. I always do. Although I tend to not always say it all, saving details for me as though little tokens, with my mother – with Frigga – it's never lies.
'I know how much she means to you, and I saw your heart shattering into a million pieces before my very eyes. The second your father uttered the words. And son,' she reaches across the bed, across Odin, finding my hand, 'it broke mine. But you must understand: you cannot ever make her choose between the prophecy and you. She would lose herself, and I know you'd never want to hurt her like this.'

'What hope is there for us?' I breathe out, more to my sleeping father before me than to my mother. When in the Odinsleep, he might appear as though far, far away, but in truth he is fully aware of all that transpires around him – In the entire universe, that is.
'There's always a purpose in everything your father does,' she says and I retrieve my hand from hers. But who says it's always born out of a place of pure intentions, I muse to myself.

Only do I realise what happens to me when I'm already traversing the bookshelves of his life deep inside Odin's vast universe of a mind. Glimpses of days long past, battles fought and battles won ages ago, pass before my eyes. How can it be? Out of spite and anger, I had attempted to best my father and win a glimpse into his subconscious on numerous occasions, but no mind is better guarded than his. Yet, now I see myself confronted with open doors revealing days, people, time long gone. Before I can get to close to even a single one, they snap shut.
Never mind that, I think.
The veil of his consciousness is flimsy, fractured, while in the Odinsleep – and not a single living soul aware of it. Glancing at my palm, the familiar green mist dissipates and one as golden as both Asgardian suns rises in its stead. My veins tremble beneath my skin, and I envision the gold overtaking the red within.

I am connected, is what it is. Connected to the Odinforce. The sheer wave of certainty washing over me the moment I say the words in my mind proves as much.

'You should rest, Mother. He's being watched over, I assure you.'
'No, Loki. I am not to leave his side. But you speak truth, I should lie down. Would you mind?'
Understanding what she's asking of me, I sway my hand through the air above the spot she occupies next to Odin, and a second bed materialises out of thin air. Lying down and taking her husband's hand, she thanks me, her smile warm. As I lean down to plant a kiss on her head, I ensure my seiðr is gentle and light and imperceptible as I sent her off into a deep slumber. Exiting the chamber, I address the guard at the door, 'Make sure no one enters these chambers. The Queen needs to restore her strength so that she may further aid in strengthening the kings'.'
'Yes, your Highness.' He bows, though it's anything but low. I'm certain that he's overheard every word uttered beyond that door, and I can only imagine the contempt he must have fought to suppress when addressing me. Your Highness. Filthy Jötunnblood.