Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Loki is pregnant, coming back as an exile in chains from the final events from the Avengers movie. Nobody seems to know about his ongoing pregnancy, nor the father of the child. Loki doesn't know how to handle it, from bearing the child, to his constant thoughts that he will be killed, surely, for the crimes he had committed.
But what is he to do when he's welcomed back home with open arms? What if, although still at fault for the horrors he had done in childish vengeance, his old friends, his family, still missed him so incredibly? Would Loki have the growing courage to speak of the unborn child? And, above all else, would he manage to fix the broken bond and heart he once had with not only Thor, but with himself?
The air is still once more when they see that indeed, they have been caught, discovered, seen. Thor doesn't move, and Loki- He is entirely sure that he has lost the ability to breath.
Standing there just beyond the foot of the bed, calm and complacent, and with little more than a look of curiosity was Odin. Beside him is Frigga, her face flushed red with a look of relief. It is obvious that she had been sobbing in recent times.
"Loki," The woman says behind her hands, and she looks held back from leaping forward and embracing her son. Tearstreaks are more than evident on her face, what of it her hands are not covering. "My baby." She takes a half step forward, but does not move any closer. Loki understands why, taking more grace into thought that
they missed him.
Standing there, his family in one room. They missed him.
"M-Mother," Loki instinctively croaks out when he sees the red face of the older woman. And immediately, as if the sound of his voice has broken some barrier between the four of them, Frigga walks towards him with weeping eyes. She regards Thor with little more than a look, and said prince silently nods and steps off the bed in respect.
"Loki, oh Loki you are well!" Frigga is entirely exasperated, tears freely falling from her cheeks before she can wipe them away. Her arms are instantly around the young god, pulling and holding him close to her chest without fault, and in her explosion of outcry, the blankets begin to tangle about Loki's legs. He is once more a child in her arms, a mother holding him warm and close. And Loki cannot hold back the tears as he instantly recalls her warmth surrounding him as a child, scared and frightened through the growing woes and heartaches of growing up. Her smell, her heat, her comfort. Loki is instantly leaning against his
his mother, his caretaker, feeling as his own tears cannot be stopped.
He cares not as Odin and Thor stand off the foot of the bed, silently conversing between themselves for something or another. It is only Frigga that Loki is listening to; her soft coos of worry and relief chitter through the air.
"I had thought you dead for so long, Loki. Do you know what a mother feels when she believes she has lost her son?" The woman pulls away after a moment, instead taking hold of his pale face between her soft hands, almost forcing Loki to look into her eyes.
Guilt instantly takes him as he sees how red they are, marked with long times of grief and woe, from what he can only assume is his own fault. "I
.I-I am sorry, mother," Is all he can find words to speak, his mind simply rolling over and over again the memories. He knows what he had left Thor with, what he had left Asgard with when he had allowed himself to fall from the broken bridge. And in that time, Loki saw it as right. A stab of revenge, well deserved after all that Odin and Thor had put him through.
He thought it was right to do, a perfect way to inflict the same pain into their heart as they had done to him. A deep sting of regret ached in him now, making Loki blink as he thought of the memory.
He hadn't thought of his mother when he let go. He hadn't thought of Thor's love when he had let go. All that had been swirling in his mind, all that hate and anger, it was all he had let himself grow consumed over. To be an equal. To be respected. To be loved.
Loki holds his mother with a sudden need to feel her again, to feel her arms keeping him safe. "I am sorry, mother," He repeats once more, another round of fresh tears on his face. He hadn't thought about what he had really done.
From Thor's seeming smugness to Odin's lies, Loki thought he was doing right for his own need for revenge. To make them understand how bad they had hurt him. But never once did Loki actually think of anything further. His mind had not flickered to when Thor and he had made love together for the first time; he did not ponder on his mother's worry, or his father's regret and apology. He simply had not thought of it.
Revenge. Revenge for being the lesser son, the monster, the freak.
And his mother is right here with him, holding him, proving that he had been so very, very wrong. All those lives, those powers, everything taken from a simple need for revenge, to wash away what pains Loki had taken so intimately to his cold, frozen heart.
Frigga sobs once against Loki's cheek, then kisses him softly, as if he had always been her son (true, blood, birthed son), and hugs him once more. "We have all missed you, Loki. We have always missed you, do not doubt that. Whatever pains you believe you felt, whatever injustices you believe we had done you, just know that we have always loved you." She pulls away at last, her arms loose around Loki's thin frame, then softly backs away from the bed enough to allow her words to sink into his brain. Her hands cross over her front, and his mother cannot help one last bit of words before Odin walks behind her to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You have always been my baby, Loki. Always."
Loki holds his breath, feeling even worse than he had before. Childish revenge. All it has ever been, all he has ever tried to fight through, it was all for childish, foolish revenge.
But hadn't he some reason? Loki cannot let go of that last string of doubt in his mind, that nagging knowledge for what had started his anger and hatred in the first place.
"You had lied to me," The pale man speaks softly, nary anything more than a thin thread of conviction in his words. "You had told me still that I was a Jotun, when all I knew them as were monsters."
And it is Odin that responds. "Aye, Loki." And the voice that leaves his father's mouth is anything than what he recalls. Where Odin had been strong, powerful and filled with pride, he sounds nothing like it. The tone that warbles over the soft two words is weak. It is filled with a certain thing that Loki, never in his long years of life long before the days of manhood, had ever heard from Odin's lips.
Loki slowly turns his eyes up to his father, watching as Odin looks back to him with a broken gaze. Regret. Surely he must be mistaking it. Odin was a proud king, a strong man whom never called back upon his words or thoughts, but marched onward with nothing but harsh and steel-strong assurance. And yet here is that same man before Loki, just as broken, just as hurt, and there is nothing Loki can do but blink out more tears.
"You lied to me. Where I thought I was just a jealous child yearning for his big brother's fortune, you tell me I
.I was a monster, I still am a monster!" His voice hitches, and Thor looks almost ready to jump in and pull Loki into a hug (he can almost hear Thor's voice rumbling, 'No brother, you are not a monster; I love you.'), but it is Frigga that holds a hand back to ease her elder son to still. Loki blinks, uncaring for Thor or his mother at that one moment, and looks to Odin for a response. He gets nothing but a further hurt gaze, and for a ripple in time Loki isn't sure if he's feeling satisfied, or even more hurt. "I thought I was a thing. I-I felt like an object to you, like I was some sort of war trophy to hold above your head. Where I thought I was just a freak living in Asgard, I learn suddenly that I had reason to think that."
More tears are falling, and Loki doesn't so much as bring a hand up from the blankets to wipe them away. It is too late to wipe away tears, he knows. It is time for truth, for honesty,
It is time for healing.
"I listened; night after night w-when I was little! You spoke with stories of bloody battle with the Frost Giants; you told us of how they murdered and killed with ruthless, mindless intent! And then, after believing that in all sense they were nothing but monsters, you suddenly tell me that I
that I'm not even your blood-son? That I'm a
.that I'm a monster!" And suddenly Loki realizes he is shaking. His hands cannot stay still, his lips unable to keep from quivering. But he cannot stop his words any longer.
He can finally speak. He can finally breathe. Where for almost a year his memories, his pain, his torment had been bottled into his heart, freezing it with cold anguish, Loki can finally break it open and let it bleed. He can finally let the wound bleed freely, and allow it to scab over with bitter guilt, and heal. He understood what Thor had spoken of all in that one monologing instant. To heal.
But what is more to him just now, what means nothing less than anguish, is how he can see his father's face. He can see how Odin looks nothing but pained at every word, but he does not raise a noble hand to stop his son. Frigga has her eyes turned down, and Thor (however his brother managed to keep tame in the heat of the room, emotions swirling), stands beside a now closed door.
I felt worthless. After years of trying to be something in your eyesIn Asgard's eyes
.I felt worthless. I was suddenly the unwanted son, picked up like a trophy in war. Father; you made me feel worthless for all I tried to be."
Loki breathes once, twice, letting the cold air fill his lungs before he finally feels his body turn numb. It is not a numbness that he found displeasing. It was a numbness that came with incredible relief. And then suddenly the room is silent. Frigga is no longer sobbing. Loki is no longer speaking (he is long past further words), and Thor is nothing but a pair of downcast eyes on the floor.
Odin doesn't say a word. He merely looks at Loki, as if he is entirely lifeless, and suddenly Loki feels nothing but a flare of contempt anger, leftover, but burning bright.
"I have killed many people. I have done wrong, have allied with enemies, and have done many things you have taught Thor and I both never to succumb to-" Loki is cut off from his mother's sudden sobbing again, as if she can hardly take the truth, but with a gentle murmur from Thor behind her, Frigga is silent once more. Loki takes head to his mother's sensitivity, and continues softly, "-When I felt like nothing but a scrap of dust, lost and alone in the darkness of a world I knew not where, I was given new purpose again. To steal back what I thought was mine, to take revenge on what I was so sure had been my slights. I was filled with meaning again, with a sense that somehow, my broken heart would feel whole again."
Loki stiffens up with a near stubborn pride, back straight and head unable, unallowed to bow forward in submission to Odin, father, king, leader of whom he once was. "I have committed great crimes, and I feel nothing now but guilt for doing it, but you cannot tell me that I had no reason or meaning to do them. I-I only wanted
I only wanted
." Hold fast Loki. Hold fast to your words, your pride, what little you have left. "
.I only ever wanted to be a son, a brother, a prince to be proud of."
Silence. It seems as if everyone is holding their breath. Loki's eyes trail with tears falling down his face. Then, in a slow, unfurling flash of need, of pain, of time-hardened anxiety, the god allows his skin to shimmer and change.
"This is what I learned what I was, all in a single second." Loki can't open his eyes now, because he knows what his parents and brother can see. Blue skin, shimmering and dark as it contrasts with the red blankets wrapped around him. Lighter marks curl over his cheeks, forehead and hands. "This is what I am. I don't even know if I'm proud of it, or frightened anymore. All I do know-" he holds up a navy-blue hand in the air, and finally allows his eyes to open in what he knew was ruby brightness. "Is I can't take any of it back. I don't know if I'm worthless anymore or not. I just can't tell. What am I? What am I anymore?"
He notices a movement in front of him. Loki's ruby eyes flicker forward, and he only sees a flash of movement before he feels it.
Warmth. Pressure. Arms. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him up and on his feet. Arms holding him to an equally warm body. Arms hugging him.
Odin is hugging him, strong limbs keeping Loki pulled close. Loki is a Jotun, no longer hiding it away with magic, and Odin is hugging him without reserve.
And the god cannot ever in his life deny the words that he heard. They are the very same that he had heard before, a year ago, in the same context and same instance when he had learnt the truth of his life.
"You are my son, Loki." Odin's voice was soft and calm, still broken, but finally with a firmness that held it strong as it rumbled beside Loki's head. "You were always, and will always be my son." But it doesn't do more than steal the young man's ability to breath, to move, as he stands as limply in Odin's hold as he had in Sif's only a day ago (not even; had time been moving that quickly?).
"I am sorry, my son."
Loki is shaking. He is absolutely convulsing with though and realization. He is not dreaming. He is not making his mind flicker with insanity. He is merely standing in disbelief in his father's arms, hearing the very words he had fought, had wished, had dreamed for long to hear. And even then, all Loki has the ability to utter when he parts his lips, is, "
"I am sorry. I now realize the pain I caused you for so long, even though I was trying to do it to protect you. I thought I was doing right, but it took too long before I knew it was, it had been hurting you so. I should have told you when you were younger, should
.should have been a far better father than what I've given you, my son. And for that, I beg your forgiveness."
." The god can't even speak. He is far past words. But he is not past for tears, which are soon cascading down his cheeks and throat, making his eyes burn. "
But what of my crimes? H-How can you ask for my forgiveness wh-when I've done such wrong?"
Odin's response is quick as it is firm. "Loki, we have both done wrong in past months. We have done horrible things and have hurt many people. You have learned guilt for your doings, and have earned my forgiveness. But what I have done to you has gone on longer that a mere year. I have been hurting your for many, many long years, without knowing it. I beg that you forgive me for it, my son."
Frigga and Thor are both looking upon them, anxiously waiting for Loki's responding words. It is time. Time for Loki to decide if after so much, if he could take back the pain, the misery, and let himself forgive his father.
And, almost surprisingly, the reply from his lips is just as fast, as sure, and as joyful as Thor had been to Loki. Just as loving as Thor was for him, loving without taking, without selfish desires.
"I forgive you, father." The shaking god brings his hands up to wrap around Odin in turn, his voice growing into a wet sob of emotions and blubbered sympathies, long since past the point to care for its pitiful show. "I forgive you." Thor is smiling, beaming with a sense of gratitude and relief, and it mirrors how Frigga also looked. Her eyes were still spilling tears, but her mouth was pulled in a smile.
And finally, now Loki, now Thor, now everyone that had been hurt;
Now they can heal. It will never be the same, never without memories of people they all had hurt, but it is a start that none of the people in that room can ever ask for again. At least they can heal.
Loki can finally, happily breathe.