Valhalla || A Loki Fanfic

Chapter 17

"The Fates must really hate me," I grumble, sitting up from the floor I had fallen on. There's a pounding in my head and a ringing in my ears.

I can feel the seiðr bursting at my veins. Aching to be released, strengthened by this place.

Home.

A sob escapes my throat as I glance around the gold halls.

The happiness is immediately replaced by dread.

I know where exactly in the palace we are.

You will spend the rest of your life, in the dungeons.

Yep, the Fates must despise every part of me.

Then my legs are carrying me down the hall, towards a very specific cell. I have no control, desperately trying to stop myself from seeing me.

I don't need to see a failure.

But it's not use. My legs take me to the cell, a cell with an illusion firmly in place. I can't help but wince, knowing exactly what was taking place behind the mask.

Shattered Glass.

No. Stop it.

Razor blades.

The illusion chess piece is thrown in the air.

Daggers.

Stop. It.

Daggers caressing my wrists.

I open my mouth, desperate to say something. Say anything.

Tell me to show Frigga how much I cared for her.

To not steal the Tesseract.

Tell me to "take the stairs to the right."

Stop the self-pitying bullshit of watching the blood fall from my arms.

Stop pretending.

But I can't.

My mouth is sewn shut again, but it can open. The words fizzle out on my tongue.

Failure.

I turn away, biting my lip to stop another sob from escaping. Trying to hide the tears dripping down my cheeks.

Racing after my brother, running away from myself.

From the demons that haunt my past.

•••

"If you could send Loki some soup and ask our librarians to pull some volumes from the astronomy shelf,"

I've done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki.

"Who's the fancy broad?"

You are our son, Loki.

"That's my mother, she dies today,"

Then am I not your mother?

You might want to take the stairs to the left.

You're not.

"Chin up, Loki," she smiles, tilting my young head back, watching the orb of green energy in my hands.

"Happy birthday, my son," she sings, holding a small box with gold ribbons.

"And they all lived happily ever after," she coos, stroking my dark hair as she closes the book.

Happily ever after...

Funny how I was never the one with the happy ending.

SMACK.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the god of thunder being slapped across the face by the furry raccoon.

"You think you're the only one who lost people? What do you think we're doing here? I lost the only family I ever had. Quill, Groot, Drax, the chick with the antenna, all gone,"

And it's all my fault.

"I get you miss your mom,"

Because she's the only one who ever cared for me.

"But she's gone,"

You might want to take the stairs to the left.

"Really gone,"

Everywhere you go, there is war, ruin, and death.

"And there are plenty of people who are only kind of gone,"

Poor little Jötun runt, master Thanos will be displeased.

"And you can help them,"

It's too late. Too late to stop it.

"So is it too much to ask that you brush the crumbs out of your beard, make schmoopy talk to Pretty Pants and when she's not looking, suck out the infinity stone and help me get my family back?"

Then am I not your mother?

Laufey's son.

You're not.

I shake my head, trying to get the memories out of my mind before they suffocate me.

I turn to Thor, trying to get something out of my brother.

I can't do this alone.

Thor sighs, his voice cracking as he mutters an agreement, shaking his head furiously when Raccoon asks if he's crying.

"Get it together!" Raccoon scolds, still standing on the stone pillars to make himself taller, "You can do this," he groans, trying to deal with the thunderhead having a mental breakdown.

Thor finally seems to straighten himself out, Raccoon hopping off the table as I follow meakly behind.

Racing after Thor in the bright golden halls. Our giggles and laughter echoing across Asgard. Mother smiling as she watches us play.

That's when I notice Thor chasing after Mother, watching as she pretends to walk away, the illusion leaving as she approaches Thor from behind.

"What are you doing?" She asks pointedly.

Que Thor shrieking like a pixie and Mother following suit. Stumbling drunkenly away.

"You're better off leaving the sneaking to your brother," she deadpans, her golden eyes filled with confusion.

Mother.