No More Illusions [Loki Laufeyson Fan-fiction]

0. morituri nolumus mori

There were no mistakes.

His eyes bore malice whenever he opened them, for no one could understand the grief behind them. Tales that were unsung hung over his lips; never told and never mentioned, for he was not the sort to plead for counseling. He sat there, wallowing in his thoughts about how he could muster a plan to outsmart his stronger brother, someone he did not ever want to call brother any longer. His mind was tattered with the pictures of vendetta, and his love long lost for his once cherished family.

There were many obstacles that lay in his path for revenge and absolute destruction. It was not as if he wanted everyone dead that never defended him; he could not ascertain what grieved him. He could not even muster the courage to introspect, let alone decide on the further outcome of his wishes. There were many things that were left undone. Many things that were left unsaid.

And it was then his mind went back to her. The adopted son winced at the mere thought of her; his eyes glued shut till her image left his mind. His hair was disheveled and uneven, a sight where he knew she would comment on. She was always the sort to tell him what she thought of his looks. After all, she was the only one who never lied.

He leaned against the wall, knowing that escape was not within his reach at the moment. He opened his eyes, now glad that she left him alone, but a little sadness still lingered on that he chose to ignore. Pain was something he was used to feeling; but never had he affirmed that he was hurting. It was his burden alone, something only he wanted to carry. And now, he was forever destined to.

It was not as if he knew he could get out of the cell, alive. It was not as if he prayed for someone to come help him. There were many who hated him, there were many who celebrated the fact that he was imprisoned. There were many, who at that very moment were ecstatic that he could never come free ever again. It was not just the incident with his brother before he was put to jail; but the very moment he was taken in by the one he used to call father, he knew he was never the one anyone favored. He was not the one that they preferred.

Maybe it was this that bothered him, uncontrollably. These thoughts never invaded his mind before, maybe it was the cell that made him think. Maybe this was what they called torture, he assumed, as he let the thoughts haunt his mind. There was no stopping it; anyway, for he knew he was going to be there for a while. Loki let out a sigh and turned to look around his cell, the God of Mischief believed he was out of tricks now. Yet, he never regretted it.

He never regretted trying to hurt his brother. A smirk formed at the corner of his lips at the thought of hurting Thor, the feeling made him happy beyond comprehending. No one had known of his hatred that he bore before, no one had known the true Loki. No one except her.

There she was again, invading the private recesses of his mind. She never left him alone. Even when she was not present, she never left him to himself. She bothered him every time he caught her glance; she followed him wherever he went, just to let him know she would never leave him alone. An act he had not appreciated when it occurred, but that very act he longed for at the present moment.

It had been two days since he was imprisoned. Everyone had heard of this news; he was sure there were celebrations all over Asgard. Loki’s eyes narrowed at the thought of fun and frolic. He was never a fan of such events; neither was she.

“You are an annoying woman,” he muttered to the air that surrounded him. His nostrils flared with anger now. He licked his lips, sensing how dry they were. “Leave me alone,” he cussed. No one could hear him. If he spoke before, she was there to catch his words. She was there, listening to everything he said. Even if he said nothing, she was always there listening to his erratic heartbeat at least.

“Get away from me,” he growled now, his legs outstretched in front of him. He was fuming now, the anger surging through his veins. It was an uncontrollable feeling, how he chose to shoo away the one person that had never lied to him. Maybe it was because she never lied; he thought it was too good to be true. After all, just like him, she was kept in the dark as well.

Loki let out a scream of anguish because her smiling face was all he saw. He grabbed a fistful of his hair and groaned; he fell to his side and screeched as if he were in pain. It was not pain that made him act the way he was. It was not even anger. Confusion and betrayal flooded in his mind. Confusion because he could not stop thinking of the woman he had always believed to be a nuisance. Are such people not to be thought about? People you know you can live without?

And, betrayal because it was her duty to follow him around, wherever he went. He had never said so, he believed he would have been more than happy if she left him alone, but that never was the case with her. She was disobedient by nature; she would never leave him alone. It was a sort of an unspoken rule. Thor and his other companions had always teased him when she followed him around.

But he was alone at the moment.

She was not following him now.

He was now quiet. He had stopped yelling and groaning and murmuring her name. He could not believe he was thinking of her now. “Why aren’t you following me?” he questioned the air once more, hoping some answer would come to him. “’I’m always with you’, that is what you said, right?” He questioned repeatedly. He sat up now; he took a deep breath before saying nothing. There was no reply for him, anyway.

She was gone. She was not following him. She never could. She never will. He was in pure misery now. Loki, for the first time, detested the quiet. Loki, for the first time, detested being alone.

“Why won’t you smile?” A voice said, almost as if the air had spoken back to him.

Loki’s eyes were wide. He said nothing. He did not even breathe. “Smile, Loki! The world is not ending,” the same voice said. He looked around for the source, but there was none. He sensed no one. There was no one.

“Do not look for me when I am not here, Loki. I know you miss me,” she was always so confident of herself. A smirk made its way to his lips. The God of Mischief always liked her spunky attitude. “What makes you think I miss you?” he questioned the air.

“Do not try and hide anything from me, Loki. I can read you like a book,” the voice said, destroying the smile that was on his lips a second ago. He frowned now, and cursed the voice. “You know nothing!” he said.

“Sure, I do. You are Loki. You are my Loki. If I do not know you, then who does?”

It calmed him. But, it did not. She was not around. She was not there. She was not following him. It was not her voice. “I’m playing tricks on myself,” he admitted, the voice finally leaving his presence. The illusion calmed him for a moment, but even in illusion, she spoke nothing but the truth. She had always been with him, for so long she had followed him that now; she was a small part of him.

For once, Loki Laufeyson as he called himself truly wished he was not alone.