Loki: The Burden of the Throne

Chapter 5

After the crowds had dispersed at the conclusion of the funeral, Loki had escorted his mother back to her chambers in the palace. Loki had thought more than once on the mournful journey that he would be forced to carry her there. The shock of the unexpected and tragic loss of her son had drained her both mentally and physically. Though she was younger than Odin and not yet of the age to be considered elderly, she appeared weak and frail as if she had aged five centuries in just the single day since Thor had breathed his last. Loki sat at her bedside as she lay on her side, her hand in his as she reminisced.

"I always knew I could lose him or your father or yourself. I prepared myself for such an event each time you were called upon to face our enemies. If that were his fate I could have borne it far easier," Frigga said.

"It may not have taken place on the field of battle but it was a noble death nonetheless," Loki told Frigga, attempting to comfort her.

"He is in a better place, free from pain and sorrow but I can't but mourn for the future that was stolen from him," Frigga said mournfully.

Loki could clearly see that his mother was exhausted. He himself was on the verge of nodding off as they conversed, Loki raising her hand to his lips.

"I swear to you, I will find who did this," he told her as Frigga examined his face.

"Your father has informed me he has revealed to you the truth of your origin. We didn't want you to feel different. It changes nothing. From the moment your father placed you in my arms, you have been as much my son as your brother."

"You have never given me cause to doubt. Sleep now," Loki said as he released her hand and rose to his feet, Frigga's eyes closing before he turned, exiting her bedchambers.

Where was his father? He couldn't imagine when he was king not remaining by the side of whomever he had favored highly enough to make his queen during such a time, to leave her to mourn their child alone even with all the burdens of kingship.

As he questioned his father's absence, another's absence came to mind as he traversed the corridors towards his own chambers. He had not seen nor heard from Verda the whole of the day. He had not noticed her in the crowd of mourners at the funeral, though it would have been easy to overlook her among so many. Although she had remained with him the evening before as he had finally allowed himself to express his grief, perhaps she had ultimately decided after his crude analogy to distance herself, his display of emotion only momentarily arousing her sympathy. But was that not what he had wanted? Though as he had admitted to her, he wasn't at all sure what he wanted anymore.

She had rarely seen him at his worst, his darkest, the side of him that could be so callous and cold, hard and harsh. In truth, Loki was a man of deep feelings, vulnerable and sensitive, though only his mother had ever seemed cognizant of that fact. No one who did not feel so deeply would be capable of lashing out the way he had at his brother and others over the centuries. It was this dark aspect that he had nurtured over the years to shield him much like the solid exoskeleton of an insect protects its soft insides. He would hurt others or push them away before he was hurt by them. He would leave before he was left, betray before he was betrayed. However, Thor's death had jolted something within him.

He had not only sensed a shift in the universe but now one within himself. He was on the verge of having everything, or at least nearly everything he had desired, or had once believed he did....the throne, the power and respect that came with it, not just in Asgard but throughout the universe. He was now free of the shadow of his brother...or was he? Somehow Loki still sensed it hovering over him...or perhaps that shadow had been replaced with the burden of living up to Thor's confidence in him. Despite all he had previously wished for now being in his grasp, he did not find the taste so sweet as he had imagined. He felt the ponderous weight of it all. Why couldn't being a king be all flowers and parades, revels and glorious pomp and ceremonies and monuments and theater celebrating his greatness? He had paid little attention over his lifetime to the numerous and far less grand and more drudgerous responsibilities of kingship that rested heavily upon Odin's broad shoulders.