Running From My Shadow

It had become one of his favorite hobbies, if not the only one. Sneaking out of prison every other day was something that filled Loki with joy, whether it was to steal something or play pranks on Thor and Odin. He’d be back before dawn, so there was no way either of them could do anything about it. They knew it was Loki, but they couldn’t admit it without assuming the prisons had a severe security problem. And anyway, what else could they do to him? He was in for life. Unless they planned to wait until he died, revive him and the lock him away fro life again, their hands were tied.

So far, Loki had managed to steal furniture and drinks, and his favorite pillow. Stealing food wasn’t necessary, Frigga was always sending him fresh fruits and his favorite pudding. Sometimes, she even sent flowers. Those reminded him of his mother’s garden, of sun and happy days.

Locked in the prison there were no happy days. No sunshine, no rain, no air, no nothing.

No mother either. Frigga wasn’t his mother any more than Odin was his father or Thor his brother. He was alone.

More than once, the flowers ended up burnt to a crisp. But the next night he’d escape, he’d steal some to replace them.

“Odin found some more dead snakes in his trousers this morning.” Frigga’s illusion said with a smirk. “You should’ve seen his face.”

Loki smiled at the thought. “They were supposed to be alive.”

“Like the goat in Thor’s chambers?”

“Oh, Mr. Tumnus made it in one piece!” Loki said, breaking in laughter. “I hope he didn’t sent him to the butchers, he was a nice goat.”

The sound of the prison gates opening and the loud turmoil of soldiers and prisoners interrupted their conversation.

“Odin continues to bring me new friends. How thoughtful.” Loki said, watching his new neighbors walk by.

“The books I sent, do they not interest you?” Frigga asked, looking at the discarded books on the floor.

“Is that how I'm to while away eternity, then?” Loki snarled. “Reading?”

“I've done everything in my power to make you comfortable, Loki.” Frigga soothed him. “Even with you breaking out once in a while.”

“That must be so inconvenient! Odin and Thor asking after me day and night.” Loki said with a hint of a smirk. “Am I in the cell? Probably not.”

“You know full well it was your actions that brought you here. If you hadn’t--” Frigga started, but Loki interrupted.

“My actions.” He said. “I was merely giving truth to the lie that I had been fed my entire life, that I was born to be a king.”

“A king? A true king admits his faults. What of the lives you took on Earth?”

“A mere handful compared to the number that Odin has taken himself.” Loki spat. “It wasn’t even my own doing, but I am paying the price.”

“If you had told your father--”

“He's not my father!” He shouted, fists shaking by his side.

“Then am I not your mother?” Her voice lowered.

Loki knew he couldn’t say yes. If he did, he’d be placing himself into the family. And he wasn’t part of them. He never was and never would be. It pained him to reject her, but it was all or nothing. He couldn’t be just her son.

“You're not.” He stated.

Frigga smiled faintly. “Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself.” She took a step towards him, hands extended.

Loki went to touch her, but he knew Odin had forbid him to see her. His hand went right through hers. He looked at her with sadness as the illusion disappeared.
The fresh flowers she had sent that morning ended up smashed against the wall.

.-

He had finally managed to calm down, and now he was bored. Loki picked one of the abandoned books and started reading. The prison turmoils didn’t catch his attention. Most of the prisoners were weak and their quarrels futile. He paid no heed to them, until he saw the big guy freeing his forced neighbors. The creature was massive, his power was evident in the way he handled the Einherjar like they were mere toys. Loki looked at him impressed, wondering if the creature would free him too. He didn’t. Loki felt a bit frustrated, but still pointed him on the right direction, sure to avoid the whole royal guard that was gathering at the prison doors. Then he went back to his book.

Frigga had picked a nice title. The day passed fast while he was immersed in his book. The riots had ceased, but the guards were uneasy for the rest of the afternoon. Loki didn’t expect to get any food or gifts from Frigga that day. He didn’t expect to get the news he got either.

A single einheri stood outside his cell and informed him: the Queen had been murdered.

.-

That night, Loki escaped again. But this time there was nothing joyful about it. He just wanted to drink himself into a stupor. Sleep and sleep for days on end, just to get away from the pain.
And he did exactly that. Loki broke into the cellar and stole all the ale he could carry and more. Then he raided the winery. Finally he broke into the healers storage. He knew they would keep strong potions there, potions he knew would give the ale and the wine a kick strong enough to knock him out.

But it didn’t knock him out. Instead he ended up smashing the empty bottles on Odin’s doors and windows, screaming at him, exposing all the secrets he had hidden.
His magic was completely out of control, it made daggers fly through the air. It blasted several walls, paintings and people. It took a while for the guards to finally catch him, and with a bit of Thor’s help, they dragged him back to the prison kicking and screaming. He calmed down once he had been thrown on the floor of his cell.

“Loki of nowhere and son of none.” Odin said. “You are hereby sentenced to death, for your crimes against Midgard, treason against Asgard and the constant attacks on your king.” He recited like an old machine. “Next quarter moon, you’ll be executed.”

Loki just grinned at Odin. An empty, wicked grin.

“Congratulations.” He said, clapping slowly. “You’ve been waiting my whole life to do this, old man. I’d give you a celebratory gift, but alas, you’ve removed everything from my cell.”

“Loki, don’t make this worse.” Thor said. Loki laughed coldly.

“Oh, dear brother! My death sentence has already been signed! How much worse can it get?”

Odin gripped Gungnir tightly. “There are fates worse than death, Loki.”

“I know, I’ve seen them.” Loki said nonchalantly. “I’ve been dragged through a world worse than Hel. I’ve been tortured and manipulated. My mind has been invaded and played with. I’ve had an army forced upon me.” He made a great effort to keep his voice from shaking. “Many times I wished for death. But you wouldn’t know all that.”

“Nor I care.” Odin deadpanned. Thor just looked at Loki, confused.

“Of course you don’t.” Loki smiled, unimpressed.

“I care.” Thor blurted out.

Loki stared at Thor. “No, you don’t either. If you did, you would’ve asked.” He sat on the floor, as far away from them as the small confinement cell allowed him. “It matters not. Death shall be sweet and welcomed after all this.”

Odin glared at Loki, but didn’t say anything. He turned away to leave the prisons. Thor hesitated, confused by Loki’s words. He didn’t wanna leave just yet. Odin looked at him, as if daring him to stay. And Thor did. He crossed his arms on his chest and looked at Loki, not even paying attention at Odin’s scowl.

“Explain.”

Loki laughed coldly. “Now? Now you wanna know?” He said. “Now you ask me what I tried to tell you for months and you refused to hear?”

Thor swallowed hard, but remained firm outside the cell.

“Where should I start, brother?” Loki spat out the word painfully.

“What happened after you fell from the bifrost?”

Loki glared at Thor for a few seconds, and shook his head. “What the Hel, I’ll be dead soon anyway. You might as well shoulder the blame.”

With a hand move, Loki invited Thor to sit down, as the story was a bit lengthy. He wasn’t planning on sparing details from his brother. Loki told him everything about his failed attempt of suicide, his wandering through barren planets, his encounter with the black order and Thanos himself. He told him of the tortures, the sleepless nights, the endless days. He told him of the starvation, the heat, the electric shocks. He told him how the titan had played and manipulated his mind, breaking it apart, just like he had done to his body.

Thor felt sick to his stomach. He vowed to tell Odin about it, but Loki knew it would be for nothing. His fate had been cast, and as he said: Death shall be sweet and welcomed after all.

.-

The night before his execution Loki escaped again. He felt a bit nostalgic, and he took his time wandering around the castle before making his usual way to the cellar and the winery. He again visited the healer’s pharmacy, checking on the potions and remedies stored. A few caught his attention: there were several poisons there too. A wicked thought sprung in his mind, and he grabbed a small vial almost unconsciously.

His last stop were Frigga’s gardens. Loki hadn’t been surprised by Odin’s refusal to let him attend the funeral, so now he would have a funeral of his own. He drank to her memory and tended to her flowers. He wished he could manage a spell to never let the garden die, but his magic was more bent on destruction than creation.

Already half drunk, he stumbled his way to his own chambers. That spell he knew had worked. No matter how hard they tried, no one could enter his rooms. Just him.

Once there, he let himself go and drank everything he had stolen. He mixed the ale with the wine, and the potions, and pure alcohol, and raw mixes. It didn’t matter.
He took the small vial in his pocket and placed a few drops on the last pint of ale left, and downed it without a breath. It caused the desired effect.

Finally, Loki passed out.

A loud bang on the door woke him up again. Great, the guards are here. He made no attempt to move, they wouldn’t be able to get in anyway.

“Loki.” He heard right beside his ear.

Startled, Loki sat up quickly. A young woman was sitting on the bed, staring at him. There were no guards. Just you.

“Who are you?” He asked, standing up and straightening his clothes. “How did you get it?”

“You know who I am, Loki.” You said. “You’ve been calling for help and I am here.”

Loki snorted. “So you are here to take me.”

“Yes.”

“I know Odin must have grown tired of me getting away from the prison, but this is a low blow even for him. Sending a young maiden to gather me, thinking I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not here to take you back to the prison, Loki.”

“Where to then? I was already sentenced to death. It’s a bit too late to lock me away on an asylum.” He said bitterly.

“It is too late for that.” You retorted with a smile.

Loki looked around. Everything was hazy, except for the bed and you. It was odd, but he blamed it on the alcohol.

He cocked his head to the side, intrigued. “So, what’s your game?” He pondered for a while, pacing on the spot. “Oooh, Thor? Has my brother sent a gift for me?” He smiled wickedly. “Well, I haven’t got laid in like forever.”

“Oh, sorry, did it look like I was offering?” You said with a smirk. “Because I’m most certainly not.”

“Take it as the last wish of a dying man.” He grinned, already imagining you sprawled over the bed.

“Most people ask for a meal…”

“You look like a meal.” Loki licked his lips. He took a few predatory steps.

You did not move. “…or to see their loved ones.”

Loki stopped and his smile fell. “Such people do not exist.”

You watched him turn away and look down. Loki honestly thought no one in this universe loved him, that his death would make no difference. It made you sad. Part of you wanted to give in, give him what he had asked for: love. In a twisted, unnatural way. But you couldn’t. Loki wouldn’t accept your pity. He clenched his hands and took a deep breath. When he looked at you again, his face showed none of the hurt it had merely 10 seconds ago.

“I feel like we’re wasting time here, love.” Loki sat by your side and stared. “Why are you here?”

“You know why I’m here.” You repeated. Loki groaned in frustration.

“If I knew I wouldn’t ask.” He spat. “Where are you taking me, then?”

You stood up and extended your hand with a small smile.

“Oooh, I’m supposed to come willingly?” He laughed. You just held his stare.

Something inside of him felt not right. Something telling him to grab your hand, to follow you. Why was he so drawn to you? Why did he feel like he’d follow you anywhere? Was this another of Odin’s tricks? He shook his head, but couldn’t shake the feeling.

“At least tell me your name.” He insisted.

“You know my name, Loki.”

He groaned loudly, again. “You keep saying that, but I don’t.”

“You’ve been calling for me to help you.” You said. “Look around you.”

Loki couldn’t make out what you meant by it. It made no sense at all! He wasn’t the one to call for help, ever. But he still followed your instruction: he stood up from the bed and looked around. The room was dark, with a weird glow coming from the bed. It felt like a hazy dream. Everything around the bed was blurred. He could recognize shapes and figures. It was his bedroom after all, he knew where everything was, and yet felt so unfamiliar.

“Look closer. Look what you don’t wanna see.” You pushed him.

Loki looked around again. In his head, you still weren’t making any sense. A dresser that way, the windows over that wall. The tea table by the balcony door. His desk on the far side… The shadows slowly took shape, glowing in the silver moonlight.

There was something on the floor. Something Loki didn’t recognize. No. Not something, someone. A body. A lifeless body. Stiff and shapeless. A black mane sprawled on the floor. Loki blinked, trying to focus.

“What--” His memory started to come back. Flashes of stumbling down the corridors to his chambers. Bottles and glasses… a vial… drops on a pint of ale.

“Alcohol wasn’t the only thing you drank tonight.” You said.

Loki’s breathing picked up. The body was wearing a green linen shirt and black trousers. He looked at himself wearing the exact same clothes. Its bare feet were dark blue, like the one hand that twisted unnaturally towards its back.

Loki shook his head.

“You were calling for me, Loki. You know who I am.” You repeated in a soothing voice.

He knew, but he didn’t want to know. Slowly, he circled the body to see its face.

Eyes open and bloodshot, glazed over, lifeless. Mouth slightly open, drool and blood slipping out, half frozen. Skin blue, dark blue, with markings etched on the skin. Jotun markings, jotun skin. His own skin, his real skin. Beneath all the spells and the shapeshifting. His true form. His last form.

“It’s not-- how?” Loki started panicking. This could not be happening, it wasn’t real.

“You called for me, Loki. You called for me to help you.” You explained using the same soothing voice.

His chest hurt, and he clutched it. But it felt wrong. Empty. He blinked in confusion again.

“I can’t feel-- my heart.” He choked out. It should be pounding, just like his head. But it wasn’t there.

“Your heart stopped hours ago.” You said, pointing to the body, his body, on the floor. “You asked for relief, for release. For a way out. Something to end the pain.”

“For you.” Loki said staring at you. The vial… drops on a pint of ale. The last thing he stole from the storage, along with the alcohol.

You smiled: he finally figured it out. “Come.” You extended your hand to him once again.

“Where are you taking me?” He said, still reluctant to take your hand.

“Somewhere you won’t feel pain anymore.”

Loki looked at himself on the floor. A sad pitiful puppet, sprawled on the floor. His face had aged a millennium in only a few hours. He would soon be forgotten, erased from history. Odin would make sure no one ever knew what had happened. As usual, he would put the blame on someone else.

But, oddly, he didn’t mind. He was free. Odin could never hurt him again. Nor Thor. Nor Thanos. A great sense of relief washed over him. He was over them now. Free.
Loki couldn’t help but laugh at what he had done. He had taken that satisfaction away from Odin! What a beautiful way to leave!

“Do I get to see my mother again?” He said with a genuine smile.

“If you want.” You said, still reaching for him.

Loki took your hand, and followed Death out of his room.

Notes