The Rise of Hel {Loki Laufeyson} Book Two

Chapter Eleven

"Hello." 

   My eyelids flutter open to Loki's face. I'm overcome with relief that quickly changes to disgust. How can he be so happy with his work? I try to tell myself that I hate him - that he's not worth any of this,not worth my anger, but I can't stop it. The fiery anger pumps through my veins, igniting my body. My vision turns to red, the image of his face and all it stands for, burning into my retinas. Squeezing my eyes shut, I can feel the tears forming and gathering at my waterline. I just want to hug him, kiss him, punch him, scream at him. He wiped my memory and deprived me of even a simple phone call - sure, I wouldn't know him, but it's something to remind the true me that he still cares.

   I open my eyes, focusing on his face. His loving smile only provokes me, causing me to lose my breath. My chest rises and falls, my lungs losing the fight for air. I'm drowning in my emotions. the current roaring in my ears. It's a deafening silence and I find that all I want is noise - some kind of noise that assures me that this silence won't last forever, that it's only temporary and that I'll recover. But I don't imagine that I will. I have no faith that we will make this work. He burned me to a crisp, and  I want him to know how that feels. The buried resent, the sting of rejection, the ache of something missing and never being able to fill that void - to know what's causing it. I want him to suffer like I did - like he made me - and he will. He'll pay for what he did to me.

My lungs finally fill with the air I've been begging silently for and I gasp quietly as I sit up, cracking my hand across his cheek. "You f*****g shit-head!" I growl. He steps back, momentarily disorientated. 

   "My love, I'm so sorry-" He pleads. His words hurt because no matter the sincerity in his expression, I can hear the lie in-between the lines.

   "Don't call me that and get away from me." I demand, sliding back.

   "I needed to see you. Required reassurance as to your return."

   "You know what I have to say to that?" My jaw locks, my head cocking.

   "What?" He leans in.

   "F**k. You." I say slowly. His expression twists as he leans away, revealing the extent of our location. Golden walls, a set of stairs that ascned to a throne, victorian style furniture... Looking down, I realize that I'm still in my bed from the tower, but in a palace bedroom. His palace bedroom in Asgard.

   "Am I in Asgard again?" He nods. "You know they hate me right? I'm a fugitive here, you idiot." I intend on hurting him, to see that hurt flash across his face. It's my one and only goal during this visit.

   "So the rumor is true." He muses, pacing. "You have regained your memories." Smiling, he hugs me. His scent... Lemon and metal, his aura radiating with darkness and lonliness. He's just as lost as I am and that's why we work. We find each other - we always find each other.

   He pulls away, looking into my eyes and seeing the burning embers that consume my originally crystal blue eyes. As he memorizes every difference, I memorize all of his. The dark circles under his eyes have gotten darker, as have the hollows of his cheeks. There are worry lines in his porcelain forehead, his skin duller than usual. Maybe I'm wrong... Maybe he really has been worried sick all of this time - maybe he actually cared that I was gone. So, why would he erase my memories if he knew it was just going to cause the both of us pain that we already knew too well? 

   What happens to one of us, happens to the other. I guess this is physical proof.

   "What happened? How did you get them back? And why are your eyes red?" He asks and pulls up a chair, sitting down.