Illusions | Loki & Jane

30. Doomed

Jane had been glued to the television these past few days, her eyes fixed on the chaotic scenes unfolding in New York. Watching Thor fight valiantly for her city and their planet stirred a whirlwind of emotions within her. She felt pride for her hero, yet a deep-seated frustration simmered beneath the surface. Why didn't he come for her?

News reports flashed images of destruction, of heroes clashing against monstrous forces, but one figure's face was notably absent from the screen—Loki's. Though his face was never shown, the unmistakable silhouette of his horns sent a chill down her spine. She loathed him with every fiber of her being, blaming him for the chaos and uncertainty that had invaded her life.

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Clatter clatter clatter.

The sound of chains rattling against his feet and hands drove Loki to the brink of madness as he was escorted through the grand throneroom.

"Loki." Frigga's worried voice echoed through the vast chamber, pulling at the edges of his resolve. He couldn't deal with her sentimentality right now.

"Hello, mother. Have I made you proud?" he retorted, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Please, don't make this worse," she breathed, her voice trembling with concern.

"Define worse," he shot back defiantly, refusing to show any vulnerability.

"Enough! I will speak to the prisoner alone," Odin interjected, his voice booming with authority. Frigga shot him a pleading glance before reluctantly leaving the room, the door closing behind her with a heavy thud.

Loki stood before his father, he felt a mixture of anger and resentment, but beneath it all was a flicker of something deeper—a longing for understanding, even if he would never admit it.

"Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go, there is war, ruin, and death," Odin said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

Loki sneered, "I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god. Just like you."

Odin shook his head. "We are not gods. We are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do."

"Give or take 5,000 years," Loki shot back, bitterness coating his words.

"All this because Loki desires a throne," Odin continued, his tone stern.

Loki's eyes narrowed. "It is my birthright."

"Your birthright was to die as a child, cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me."

"If you had not made me leave my love, I would not have come to hate you," Loki replied, his voice laced with pain.

Odin sighed, a look of weariness crossing his face. "No, all this is because you desire an apology," he observed. "You should start taking responsibility for your own actions."

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. "If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake, just swing it. It's not that I don't love our little talks; it's just... I don't love them."

"Frigga is the only reason you are still alive, and you will never see her again. You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeons," Odin declared, his voice resolute.

Loki's expression hardened. "And what of Thor? You'll make that witless oaf king while I rot in chains?"

"Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done. He will bring order to the nine realms and then, yes, he will be king," Odin replied, his gaze unwavering.

Loki felt a surge of anger and helplessness. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the brother he had tried to surpass would rise to the throne he had coveted. As the weight of his choices pressed down on him, he was left to grapple with the consequences of his actions and the isolation that lay ahead.

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Now, five years, after meeting Jane, there he was—still trapped within the cold, dim walls of the dungeons, a shadow of the god he once was.
Hearing the nerve-wracking hum of the force field that confined him to this wretched place day in and day out, a constant reminder of his failures and the choices that had led him to this forsaken place.

Then he heard her: a woman, unmistakably, with small, hurried steps punctuated by the click of high heels. His heart raced. He recognized that walk—it was hers. But how could she possibly be here? It was inconceivable. Yet, as she stumbled around the corner, breathless, she called out his name, "Loki!"

Her lovely brown eyes were filled with a mix of expectation and concern, while her light brown hair framed her face perfectly. She wore a teasing, form-fitting dress that left little to the imagination. How had she discovered his true identity? Of course, she was astute.

"Jane," he breathed, the air catching in his throat as his lungs constricted. He stood frozen in the middle of the room, drinking in her beauty. She hadn't changed; it was as if no time had passed. Yet, his breath came in shallow gasps, his heart thundering in his chest.

"Why are you locked up in the dungeon?" she asked, her surprise palpable.

For one moment, Loki felt his heart racing, a surge of hope washing over him as he gazed at her. Her beauty was undeniable, a radiant light amidst the chaos that surrounded them. He could almost believe in the warmth of her presence, the love that had once filled his world. For just that fleeting second, he felt human again. But then reality crashed down around him like a wave, when he realized what she was- an illusion.
This couldn't be her. She would never approach him so calmly, nor could she have crossed the force field that bound him. The realization hit him like a physical blow, and tears of frustration pricked at his eyes.

"You're just a shade of what I remember," he said, his voice trembling.

He had fallen prey to his own mind, conjuring illusions to torture himself. Closing his eyes, he stepped forward, shaking his head in despair. When he opened his eyes, reaching out to touch her shoulder, his hand passed through her form as she began to fade away.

He was left alone once more. He shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip to stifle the tears. Anger brewed within him, mixing with helplessness. He stood there, fists clenched, until rage consumed him. With a flick of his wrist, furniture flew across the room, a chair splintering under the force of his fury.

"DAMN YOU, THOR!" he roared, as if his brother could hear him. "YOU RUINED ME!"

And Odin, he thought, clenching his teeth in a futile attempt to contain his rage, you will pay for what you have done—sooner or later.

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A/n.: finally part one is finished! Please don't forget to vote or review. Thanks!