Finding Freedom, Loki's Story.

chapter 4

Britney's pov

He took the staff. I couldn't believe it! Maybe this thing would actually work.

"Well Loki, this is your kingdom now. Do you have any idea what needs to be done?" I asked him. He looked at me blankly. Of course he had no idea, but I wanted to see what he'd say.

A small fleeting smile graced his lips, if I wasn't watching carefully I would've missed it.

He looked back up with a smirk. "I don't suppose I have any advisors do I?" And after saying that tossed the staff back to me. I caught it in one swift movement and planted it back on the ground. I nodded my head and gave him a smile of approval.

"Congratulations. You passed your first test. Follow me." And with that I turned on my heal and headed towards the house again. He followed me without saying a word.

I led him around the house to the barn. Now, it's not exactly a livestock barn. It's more of a storage barn. it's where I keep all my feed, tools, and tack.

I opened the heavy metal door, and stepped in, heading towards the tool stand. I grabbed a few shovels and handed one to Loki. He took it and examiled it closely. "And what do you expect me to do with this?"

"Well," I said as I was closing the door again. "It just so happens that one of the tanks is getting dangerously low on water, and if it continues to dry up, the fish will all die. So we have to dig a trench between the large and small tanks to distribute the water until it rains again."

"Well why does it matter if the fish die? Surely they don't serve a purpose?" Loki asked. He seemed strangely passive for a prisoner. Normally, they would probably try to kill me and make a run for it. But he didn't. He seemed very submissive and observant. And from that I drew two possible conclusions. Either he was feigning passivity and was planning an epic mutany. Or his time in the Asguardian prison left him completely broken and without hope. And if that's the case, that must've been one tough prison.

"Because I like the fish in that tank and I'd rather not leave them to die a slow death of suffocation." I answered matter of factly.

"But what makes these fish so important? They're just fish." I looked back to him. He seemed genuinely curious. So I gave him a genuine answer.

"Because Loki, everything must have a balance in order to thrive. It all has to do with the circle of life. The little fish eat the alge. The big fish eat the little fish. And we can eat the big fish. We must help nature to thrive so we can thrive right along with it.  Humans were put on this earth to do just that; to tend to the well-being of this planet and in turn enjoy it! We get to swim in an algae free tank and eat fried fish for dinner! That's freaking awesome! What do you think?" I looked him in the eyes again, waiting for his reaction. He furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes.

"I suppose you're arguements are valid." He answered.

"Well good. Let's get to work."

We broke the hard ground for about three hours. We worked until Loki's hands were covered in blisters and he started cursing in Nordic (I could understand him of course). At that point I decided it wouldn't do any good to beat a dead horse, so I called time, and we rode our horses home. We set the shovel heads on our feet, holding the handels as we rode home. I made a mental note to make Loki a pair of chaps so his legs wouldn't get destroyed by the thorny brush we went through. When we got home, he cleaned up in the shower and went into his room. I cleaned up as well and started preparing a salve for him to put on his blistered hands. I crushed some herbes into a mush and mixed it with lavender oil. It looked about like a health-smoothie but it would help with the pain and kill any bacteria that got in.

So I took the bowl of salve and headed to his room. I walked through the living room, into the hallway, and to his door. I stood there, debating whether or not I should actually knock. But finally I decided that I'm trying to help him, and if he gets mad, I can send him straight back to Asguard.

So I lifted my hand, and wrapped my knuckles on the dark wood. 'Knock knock knock.' ... He didn't answer.

'Knock knock' again, no answer. At this point my mind started reeling. What if he darted out the window? What if he tried to escape? What if he killed himself? What then? Okay Britney, calm down. Just open the door. So I did.

The door opened silently (I make sure to keep the hinges oiled) and peaked inside. Loki was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was so still that if it wasn't for the rising and falling of his chest one would think he was dead.

"Loki. Didn't you hear me knocking?"

"Yes." His tone had changed from earlier. He had become very direct and dismissive. Maybe he's just bipolar, I thought.

"Well then. I brought you a salve for your hands. It might help with the healing process and take some of the pain aw-"

"I'm fine." He said short and dismissively. It was as if he was trying to push me away. This was a totally different attitude than earlier. Whatever happened to the humble prisoner?

"Well, suit yourself. If you change your mind I'll be right outside." I turned on my heal and marched out, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. I went outside to feed the horses and take the dry laundry off the line.

I just don't get Loki. He's broken and humble one minute then harsh and bitter the next. If he would just pick one at least I'd have a constant to work with. Maybe it's because he doesn't know who he truly is. And maybe that's because he was raised under false pretenses (or so I've heard).

But either way, his problems go way beyond what anyone can fix with a beating. He needs a total shift in perspective. A new view on life. A new purpose to living. He needs healing from his past. He needs to find freedom.

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Loki's pov

She shut the door with more force than necessary. I layed there still stewing over a handful of memories. I reflected on how in the universe I got here. I was lied to, kicked out, misunderstood, locked up, beaten until I lost consciousness, and then for some unfathomable reason, dumpped here.

Wild

There's something different about her though. I could sense it. It's almost like I could tell she had a sixth sense or something. She wasn't normal, and I haven't the faintest idea why. It was beginning to irritate me. I'm always the one to have every person figured out before they've even figured out themselves.

But not her

Most people fear me, won't look me in the eye.  Most people when threatned by me wouldn't dare turn the tables back on me. And most people wouldn't even consider offering me first aid, unless of course they were trying to keep me alive to hurt me again.  

And again

And again

But not her. 

I would call her a samaritan, but if that were true, she wouldn't waste her time with me. She'd be donating her time to the lowest tier of earthly society. But she's not. She's here, all by herself, in the middle of nowhere, literally housing me. Why?

'She's decieving you.' Ah, there it is; the voice that's kept me company for as long as I can remember. I can barely distinguish between him and myself anymore. Maybe he is me. 

'What do you mean?! Of course I'm you. And you're me. I'm your voice of reason.'  I could feel my two lines of thought meld into one, like when a double vision comes into focus.  And I allowed it. giving up on distinguishing one thought from another. I rolled over to lie on my back, staring at the dark green ceiling. My mind was so busy that all the thoughts blurred into one like the hum of a crowd. That was the closest thing to peace of mind I had. 

Then suddenly, one thought rang out loud and clear. 'Stop wondering, you know how to get information out of people. What are you waiting for?!'  

I bolted upright, full of newfound anger and motivation. I was going to find Britney, and I was going to get some answers. So I stood up and strode to the door with a new purpose in my step.