Chapter Text
Being not as loud as Thor in Loki’s eyes wasn’t something he should be ashamed of. But every time their father looked down at him from his throne expectantly, Loki couldn’t help but feel a deep sorrow consume him at the disappointment reflecting in Odin’s eyes. Their father was a strict man, a king who was as ruthless on the battlefield as he was behind the confinements of his Palace.
And unfortunately, he was rarely satisfied with his younger son.
Loki often sat in one of the many separated back gardens of the Asgardian Palace wondering why he was so different from his brother, and why was it so hard for hím to make the ír father proud while Thor could so easily do it.
All the high trees above him with their ever-so-green leaves were quiet and observant, so why was it more than enough for them to have Odin’s adoration from time to time, but not sufficient if those features came from the long, dark haired young man. He was sitting under the ancient oaks, his thoughts spinning around.
Maybe that’s where the problem had started, he was too quiet – Loki sighed and ran his pale, long fingers through his unruly locks that reached his shoulders. He didn’t resemble his father like Thor did. He liked to think he looked more like his mother, but if that were the case, he was sure his father wouldn’t treat him the way he did.
His mother was the kindest, most warm-hearted woman in the whole Kingdom and he… he was an abomination.
The outcast who liked to sit here and feel the grass under his fingertips as he examined the little, constantly moving creatures on the ground, who hadn’t the slightest clue about his weirdness. Who did not judge him and regardless of his paleness, his pitch black hair – which his father always told him to get under control or just cut it short like he made him wear as a child – or even his sharp cheekbones.
He remembered when his mother first taught him magic, his appearance had been the first thing he attempted to change, but it took time. He had practiced, and practiced and when he became powerful enough, he had transformed himself into someone else. Into many other people to be honest. Mostly someone with blond hair and warmer shade of blue eyes, with a beard. A tiny bit less tall.
That day he had run faster than ever before, to find his beloved brother and father. To make them proud.
But only made them laugh, so much that the whole auditorium echoed for hours on end, at least in his head, the echoes never stopped.
So, he teleported to his mother’s chambers and hid there like he used to when he’d been a little boy. Not much had changed since then, but that event changed everything for him.
Hours later Frigga had found him in one of her closets and climbed inside, hugging him until there were no tears left to cry anymore.
As he sat in the garden now, surrounded by the distant laughter and the sound of music that was seeping through the thin walls of the fence – more like a décor piece than an actual border of any kind – it still hurt. He never should have come here tonight. Many years gone by, but the ache throbbed in his heart. A painful reminder, a special kind of dagger created in the fire of resentment that could never be pulled out.
Loki pulled on the grass under his hands, willing not to care about how nature felt, just for a minute. This place was his only source of calmness, but it wasn’t enough anymore.
‘Son, why are you here alone? Your brother is looking for you everywhere.’ – came a voice behind him he could’ve identified among a thousand others. Then the gentle touch on his shoulder followed as it always did, and he let his only weakness got to him. His mother. He would do anything for his mother, because she had already done too much for a failure like him. She deserved more.
Loki was not a deserving son, and he was painfully aware of that fact. He wanted to remain seated and pretend he did not exist.
But he got up as he didn’t want his mother to see him like that. On the ground, like the pathetic second-born he was. He knew Thor would never sit by idly thinking about how fucked up his life was. Probably because his wasn’t, but that was beside the point.
‘I’m sorry mother. I just didn’t feel like celebrating.’ – and that wasn’t a lie, well, not entirely. What he wanted to celebrate won’t ever come his way. Also, he really didn’t want to ruin Thor’s feast, and he knew just how much his older brother loved his sacred parties. Loud. Harsh. Full of people who he barely knew.
‘Loki, my darling...’ – his mother said and caressed his cheek the moment he straightened up. It didn’t matter he was towering over her as in his mind, she will always be on a pedestal he couldn’t ever reach.
Even with all his sudden growth in height that made him taller than Thor in a natural way, without any magic. Of course, no one believed him, so he kept shortening himself a few inches when it didn’t require too much effort. Ridiculous, but his desire to please burnt like the hundreds of fires at Thor’s little gathering yards away from them.
Now, with only his mother at present, he didn’t have to hide who he was.
But he couldn’t help but lean down, more into her touch as she continued:
‘I know how much you hate these… feasts, and I admit I’m not the biggest supporter of them either ever since your father first started to throw them, but once in a while you have to show yourself to the world. To meet new people… My dear boy, no one can be alone for an eternity. That’s not how we work.’
Le sighed and lifted his hand, positioning it over his mother’s. Her skin seemed to be colder than usual, but it might have been only his imagination. She was never cold. Never. Always warm and caring.
‘Mother, you try to coerce me to attend one of these since the dawn of time. I think it’s safe to say, since I’m not a scared little boy anymore, that I don’t intend to make an appearance. And why would you think I need anyone in my life?’
This was the main topic of their conversations for the last couple of years. Her trying to reason with him and him saying he’d change. He had tried. But it just wouldn’t work. Thor’s friends were not people he wanted to be associated with. All the rudeness. The constant drinking. The numerous women thrown to the side when they were finished. None of it was what he truly desired. All he felt was anger and disgust that his brother let any of it happen without any interruption.
‘You’re not a little boy anymore for the rest of the realms, but you’re still my precious baby boy. And it hurts to see you suffer through the days full of sunshine with so many shadows lurking underneath. Our family isn’t perfect, but no one who you might see now as bad, is ever truly bad… Souls are misled. I don’t want you… to become someone desperate for control.’ – she hugged him gently and trailed her fingers over his broad back in a comforting manner. He let her.
‘I want you to find your life as you have already found the life of many that surround us. You have so much more in you than what you let others see… I hope you’ll find someone who sees you like you deserve to be seen, Loki.’
He felt a tear form in his eyes and for once, let it drop, rather than trying to hide it.
‘…Thank you, mother. You… mean the world to me. I’m never alone.’ – he hugged her back tightly then slowly let go of her, but in reality, he just wanted to hold onto his mother for eternity.
‘I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to connect with someone else. I just… I-I don’t fit. And I don’t know how to change that. To change me. Nothing I’ve ever did worked… Why?’ – his voice cracked at the last little word, and it came out more like a plea than an actual question.
Frigga stepped back closer and held his face in her palms, while brushing a stray lock of his from his eyes with her left hand.
‘My beautiful son… The only thing I want to hear from you is a promise that you’ll stop hiding.’ – she knew it was a mistake to teach him how to use illusions. He had been so excited when she first showed him and seeing him smile gave her life a new meaning, something to look forward to. But he became addicted.
‘I can’t.’ - he whispered, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
Frigga loved her sons equally - she just wanted both of them to be happy and have a whole life without regrets- but making Thor smile had been far easier. A few fairy tales, presents, cakes.
Loki was much more complex.
When her youngest had showed signs of interest and capability in magic, she was ecstatic. She had the chance to spend time at least with one of her children without his husband’s constant supervision.
But she was so worried she won’t live long enough to see his children settle down and have a family of their own. Without her loving advice.
But what scared her more than anything was her little trickster’s affinity for darker magic. She had been sensing his resentment and anger for a long time now and dreaded the moment it will break the surface.
Frigga was also sensing something coming their way. Foreign yet familiar.
Someone that can change the course of her beloved son, but all her visions were vague and quickly faded away into nothingness once she started to dig deeper than her subconscious had let her.
She studied his face, then sighed defeated and let go of Loki. Forcing him to do things that made him uncomfortable was just as grave as a mistake as any.
‘My darling, I’m here for you and will be until my last breath. I understand, believe me I understand how you feel about your father’s ways of showing affection, and I know how hot-headed Thor is when it comes to decisions. But they love you just as fiercely as I do… I’ll tell your brother you aren’t home and to stop looking for you.’ – her lips curled up into a little mischievous smile.
Loki was eternally grateful for her willingness in fibbing when it came to him. He and his mother were similar in so many ways… if only their looks matched it would be so much easier.
‘Mother… I-I…’ – he looked down at his black boots as though looking at anywhere but her will give him strength to apologize for his social awkwardness and that she had to lie.
Frigga reached out and touched his dark green tunic just where his heart lay under, but the moment Loki looked back up, she was already gone.
‘…I’m sorry for not being good enough…’ – he murmured, but only the thin night air was there to listen to his raspy voice. He ran his right hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that day as he so often did when frustrated.
He turned around to make his way back to the tree he had resided under, but out of nowhere, a rectangle-shaped glowing portal appeared in front of him. He had never seen anything like it before since all the pathways between the Nine Realms were quite asymmetrical and misshapen as if a child drew them. He knew, because he had traveled through almost all of them.
Just when the thought occurred in his head, a little girl walked through the odd passageway, and her big, scared eyes immediately connected with his. She had tears in them which for some unexplainable reason he immediately wanted to wipe away and punish whoever did it to her. She was so fragile and looked really tired.
Loki waited for the moment she’d realize who he was and ran, or at least laugh at his undoubtedly disheveled, not exactly godly expression, and readied himself for yet another embarrassing moment.
What he wasn’t prepared for was for the little arrival to run to him and circle her skinny arms around his waist, furrowing her head into his green tunic like her life depended on it.
He felt a tug at his heart, something he hadn’t felt in decades.
He was so shocked all he could do was standing there and look down at the girl’s brown locks as they fell all around her. Hmm, they had something in common.
Loki blinked and blinked some more. He hadn’t been hugged by anyone else but her mother, or a few occasional brotherly pats from Thor.
Then he slowly lifted his arms and decided he wanted to hold her petite form tightly as she snuggled up to him, still clutching his tunic between her small fingers.
Her shoulders shook as he held her. She made no sound, but Loki knew she was crying because he felt wetness on the material she desperately clung to, her face completely buried in his abdomen.
He thought she might feel better if she got it out - crying is after all a physical release of pain. He only hoped it will work better for her than it had for him.