The Origin of Fear

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The idea that any one being could hold the ability to wield all the secrets that magic has to offer is as laughable as the idea that any warrior can wield every weapon in the armament at once.  Yet the pursuits of magic will get one farther than the route of the blunt weapon held by a blunter mind.

Loki read the words on the yellowed page for the umpteenth time, his eyes taking in the letters but unable to focus on what they meant. Though he had read this particular book so many times its spine had been worn to mere threads, he found his mind wandering far from the text. He thought about Fera, which he had caught himself doing more often than he’d care to admit over the past few weeks and that he was loathe to do; he didn’t understand her, and it bothered him. He didn’t understand her intuition and acceptance of others’ discomfort around her, and why she feared a power as great as hers. What’s more, he didn’t understand why he had suddenly begun to care. 

It was not in Loki’s nature to worry about anyone except himself. He learned long ago that not many people were worth caring about, and those who were would outgrow him and his protection soon after he allowed himself to give it.  As soon as they did not need him anymore, he was no longer valuable, and it was common knowledge that things that had no value had no place in Asgardian society. He had stopped worrying over others soon after he realized this, accepting the fact that no one was worth ultimately sacrificing his pride over. The trick was to never offer his aid, protection, or worry to anyone. Make them beg for his minimum attention, though he was able to give so much more; this way, he would never wholly reveal his worth, always leaving them yearning for more of his care, which he had become loathe to part with. 

He had been untrusting of Fera in the beginning; being a liar himself, he was unsure of her intentions when she lied about the nature of her abilities. He wanted to watch her lies crumble, watch her delicately constructed façade to fall at his feet. But he now knew she had only been protecting them from herself, because she was well aware that even the mightiest of warriors could not handle her and her abilities. And now, he found himself in the uncomfortable position of caring about her even though it had been nearly a month since she had returned to Alfheim; the foreign feeling had crept inside him like a snake, slithered around him like a beast would circle his prey, curled up in the deepest crevices of his mind, and taken hold.

Loki pushed his musings away as Thor came barreling into his chambers, throwing the doors open and chest heaving, about to fly into a rage. Loki shut his book with a snap, raising an eyebrow as Thor leaned heavily over the mantlepiece, gazing into the nonexistent fire. He had been more belligerent than usual as of late, his normally arrogant demeanor spurred on by the defeat he had suffered at Fera’s hands the day she left. 

“Hello brother, nice of you to stop by,” Loki said drily. 

Thor lit a match, and threw it into the fireplace. The flames roared to life, casting his face in an orange glow. “I saw the most horrible things, Loki,” he said. “In her eyes. It’s worse than darkness, worse than death,” 

Loki rolled his eyes. Thor was known to exaggerate, and lately he had been obsessed over what he had seen when he had met Fera’s gaze. “Are you still going on about that?” Loki asked, dismissive. “She’s been gone for weeks, and all your limbs are intact. Your wits are—well, still not as quick as mine, but no worse for the wear. I don’t understand why you dwell on it as you have,”

“A true king defends himself and his kingdom from threats, Loki,” Thor snarled. 

“A true king admits defeat,” Loki snapped in reply. 

Thor started. “I will not admit defeat to that harbinger of dark magic,” he said. “You know the consequences for using such power,”

“Light Elves don’t use dark magic, Thor,” Loki drawled. “That would be the Dark Elves,”