Broken

Explain, please

"So, Loki, explain how the Marvel universe is real, please."

Loki chuckled. 

"Yes, that is a good question. You see, every actor is, in fact, acting their earth name; I am acting Tom Hiddleston. We wear disguises and have fake identities and fake families and homes that are, most of the time, empty. Fury wished to broadcast our stories to the world to make recruiting easier. We never realized everybody would love it."

"But in press conferences and interviews you're so nice!" I said, at a loss. "I mean, that's good acting."

Loki's lips curved upwards in a slightly mocking smile. "Are you implying I am not nice?"

I shook my head. "That's not what I meant."

I pushed his eggs and bacon across the bench and sat beside him, still marveling (marveling! ironic) at the fact that those movies were real. I hadn't been a fan of them but everyone knew OF them.

There was a few minutes of appreciative silence as we ate and then Loki turned to me.

"So, Emilie, tell me about yourself."

"I lost my mother when I was twelve, lived in this house by myself ever since. My dad doesn't count. Actually I don't count him as my dad anymore."

"Why?"

"I, um... I was brought up believing that the original locals of Norway were beasts, dirty and below me and my family. And right after my Mom died Dad told me I was adopted, and I was one of those Nordmenn. And I- I hated myself ever since... because of him. I was quite messed up, actually. Dad died two years ago and life's better off without him." I couldn't believe I'd just told my story to the God of Lies and Mischief, of all people. God knows it was hard to talk about to myself. "I had a sister, a little sister, and my Dad loved her. She's off chasing her dreams in America with the money she inherited from Dad."

I didn't look up for a minute, fearing I'd said too much, but then I felt a hand on my arm. Loki was looking earnest and sympathetic, something I hardly thought he could feel. 

"I am sorry for what you have gone through, Emilie. Would you permit me to share my story?"

Of course, I would, feeling the waves of sadness roll off him once more. 

"I grew up on Asgard, with my brother, Thor, my mother, Frigga, and my father, Odin. I never felt loved; save my mother. Odin preferred Thor and he always gave him the best part of the roast, the nicest robes, the most attention. I was brought up to be a sworn enemy of Jotunheim. Jotuns are 'frost giants', said to be the beasts that would trigger Ragnarok and ruin Asgard. How I despised them.

I- Well, one night I... made my way into Odin's temple, under the palace. He hid the winter stone. I picked it up and my skin... turned blue, and my eyes were red. I was... more frightened then I had ever been.

"Am I cursed?" I asked my father, but he shook his head and proceeded to tell me that I was an adopted Jotun, a spoil of war, and a bridge between Jotunheim and Asgard. 

"But that is no longer necessary," he told me. Those were his words. 'No longer necessary'. I was to be thrown out like an unwanted toy because I was the monster parents tell their children about at night. And from then on, I have hated my lineage and therefore my identity.

From that day on, the only person to accept me was my mother, Frigga."

"Are you still in contact?" I asked. He shook his head.

"She was murdered when I pointed a monster in the direction of the throne room. I killed her."

There was a stunned silence and then finally (finally!) the memory of watching Thor; Dark World flashed up in my brain. I shook my head.

"You didn't kill her."

"How do you know that?" he challenged.

"Because when the monster was breaking out of the cell, Frigga was with Jane, devising a plan to keep her safe. She already knew she might die. She was willing to give her life to save this girl, the love of her sons. She died to protect Jane."

"And you, Loki; you protected Jane from the Dark Elves in the fight. You protected the girl Frigga had died to save. I'm sorry for what you went through but you see, Frigga chose death if it meant Jane would live."

There was another silence and I saw Loki's eyes were shiny. He turned away and put his head in his hands.

I gently touched his shoulder, resting my hand on his skin and lightly stroking his hair as he finally gave way to his emotions, sobbing silently into the table.

"It's okay to cry, Loki," I whispered as he attempted to control himself. "It's not a weakness."

He gave a great, shuddering gasp and sat up, trying to shrug my hand away, angry with himself, but I dried his tears tenderly. I couldn't believe that he'd shown me his true emotions. 

"It's okay." I whispered as I wiped the tear from his cheek.