The Origin of Fear

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Fera ran blindly to get away from the others, not knowing where she was going but desperate to escape their terrified and angry glares. She should have known better than to use her abilities on Thor; it often ended up in the death of her enemies, so she should have known it might result in harm to her friends. Her heart was racing in mortification, but also in something else that was--though she would never admit it--close to exhilaration.

She bolted through the golden gates and out of the castle, running past Idunn’s garden and the boundaries of the palace grounds, into the thick forest that sprawled behind the palace. Without hesitating, she rocketed through the dense wood and into the closely packed, towering trees. She kept running until she could no longer see the light of the sun shining through the treetops, stopping only when the air was still and the trees seemed to sway and creak though there was no wind. She wished she could stay in the peaceful, lonely wood. Perhaps it would be for the best, for her and everyone else, if she did. 

Fera whipped around as the crack of a tree branch breaking sounded from behind her. “Who’s there?” she called out. No answer. “I am armed,” she added halfheartedly, the sound of her voice wholly ineffective in the thick foliage. 

“No you aren’t,” came the reply in a familiar voice. Fera relaxed, then tensed again as Loki came stepping out of the shadows, his arms raised in surrender. “Though, with your display on my brother back there, I doubt you need to be,” 

“Please go away,” Fera pleaded. Her heart was racing and she no longer felt in control, the exhilaration from defeating Thor still coursing through her veins. She covered her face with her hands and turned her back to Loki, willing him to leave her be. To her horror, however, she heard his footsteps coming closer until he was less than a foot in front of her.

“Mmm...no,” before she could stop him, she felt his hands wrap around her wrists and pull them away from her face. 

“Loki, stop,” she breathed, shutting her eyes tightly. She didn’t even realize that she had called him by his name instead of his title, too distraught to care. She could practically sense his gaze on her, and it took all of her willpower to avoid meeting it. 

“Look at me,” he said in a low voice. 

“Do you want to die?” 

“Look at me,” he repeated. 

Fera couldn’t stop herself. She obeyed and opened her eyes, meeting his unblinking gaze with her own stare that had killed countless people, brought down kingdoms, and almost drove his brother to madness. Fera didn’t hold back; she had been stifling her abilities for weeks, trying not to show them, but now that they had been briefly exercised with Thor she had all but lost control over her own gaze. A small part of her waited for Loki to begin screaming and briefly considered that perhaps she should look away, but a larger, overwhelming part of her would not even allow her to blink.  

After minutes passed, Fera soon came to realize that Loki wasn’t affected by her fear; even as she involuntarily gritted her teeth and hit him with the hardest stare she could muster, he was wholly unaffected. He merely blinked, and Fera let out a small gasp.  Her dark eyes had no affect on him, instead absorbing her destructive gaze and returning it with his own calming stare. 

“How...?” She questioned, her mouth dropping open in bewilderment.

“Well, thank the Norns that worked,” Loki said after a moment in a relieved tone, his shoulders visibly relaxing.

Fera gawked at him. “Are you insane?” 

Loki shrugged. “It’s not outside of the realm of possibility,”