The Victory

Fifteen

The grand halls of Thor's home in Asgard echoed with the sounds of divine revelry. Loki paced anxiously in his brother's home, in the room he'd been appointed to.

The looming weight of his actions bore heavily on his shoulders and a burning desire to see Namira gripped his heart.

Determined, Loki strode towards the portal to Yggdrasil. As he approached the radiant portal at its base, guarded by vigilant sentinels, he sensed a barrier that prevented him from passing through. Frustration etched across his face, Loki attempted to bypass the magical obstruction, but the portal remained steadfast, denying him entry as the guards stepped into his path.

"State your business, Loki," one of the vigilant guards commanded, his armour gleaming in the otherworldly light. The guards were a new touch, but he understood after all that had happened that they were meant to be an extra level of protection.

Loki's emerald eyes flickered, the dark circles underneath them belying how haunted by the memories he still was, with a blend of desperation and determination, "I must see Namira. It is urgent."

The guard raised an imperious eyebrow, "No one passes through Yggdrasil without proper authorization."

"I don't need your authorization," Loki retorted, his silver tongue laced with defiance. "I must see her. I need to see her."

The guard stood firm, unmoved by Loki's pleas, "You have no claim here, trickster."

Loki took a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully as he opened up his robes to reveal the scars upon his body, the permanent brand of the Goddess on his skin, "I need to explain my part in this, my body bears the marks of the length of what I went through to keep her safe. You have my vow that I shall perish immediately if I touch her in any negative way when you let me through."

The guard hesitated, then sighed, "I will allow you passage, but you will be closely watched."

Loki nodded gratefully, the weight on his shoulders lifting slightly. As the portal shimmered, allowing him entry, Loki walked through with a sense of purpose. Beyond the portal, the ethereal realm of Yggdrasil unfolded, its majestic branches stretching towards the heavens.

There, amidst the divine splendour, Loki sought out Namira. He found her by a luminous pool, her essence entwined with the magical energies of the World Tree. Loki approached her with a mixture of trepidation and hope.

"Namira," he began, his voice carrying the weight of sincerity as he approached her slowly, keeping his distance, "I came to explain, to make you understand. I did it all for you."

Loki took a deep breath, baring his soul to the Goddess before him, "I sacrificed myself to protect you from Aphrodite's wrath. I endured unspeakable torment so that you could be safe. I had to keep an eye on her plans, and it left me scarred, physically and emotionally."

A heavy burden etched on his features. His usually confident demeanour had been replaced by a vulnerable and haunted expression.

The scars on Loki's body, both physical and emotional, were evident. Loki's fingers kept tracing a pattern on his forearm and Namira's eyes widened as she recognised the symbol he kept drawing to be the same as the one on his shoulder. The mark left by Aphrodite, a reminder of the torturous moments he endured at her hands. He winced as the memories flooded back, vivid and relentless and Namira flinched as she saw it.

Loki's voice had dropped to barely a whisper, "I thought I could handle anything. Deception, betrayal, pain... They are no strangers to me, but this has made for an entirely different battlefield."

Loki's eyes, usually filled with mischief, now reflect the torment of his past. He took a deep breath, attempting to compose himself as he pressed on, "Aphrodite... she revelled in my suffering. The games she played, the torment she inflicted... it cut deeper than any blade ever could."

He opened his robe, letting it drop to the floor as he glanced at a nearby mirror, catching a glimpse of himself – a fractured god, bearing the scars that haunted his every waking and sleeping thought.

He wanted her to understand his suffering, to know he sacrificed a great part of himself.

Loki's hands trembled as he fought the trauma of the memories washing over him. He fought back tears, refusing to show weakness even in this state, "I had been arrogant...I let myself be ensnared in her web of manipulation. I knew of her character, but I had never anticipated her true nature. She tricked me."

A bitter laugh escapes Loki's lips, a mix of self-loathing and bitter irony.

Namira's gaze softened, a mixture of sympathy and disbelief in her eyes, "Thor says you did this to save me, that you learned of her plans to... to kill me and chose this path to attempt to stop her? Why?"

A bitter smile played on Loki's lips, "Because..." He paused, that vulnerability creeping back into his gaze even as he tried to fight it, "Because you are... You are a part of us, you have done ... so much for us. I have wronged you... I know I have... and I suppose... I suppose I felt a need to right those wrongs."

Namira's brow furrowed at his words, at the truth lacing them as she considered how cruelly he'd been punished in his search for retribution.

As Loki poured his heart out, the cosmic energies of Yggdrasil seemed to dance around them, bearing witness to a god's redemption and a plea for understanding in the face of undeniable sacrifice.

Loki spoke softly, his voice breaking with the emotion he felt, "I needed you to know, to understand that I am not the same Loki who revelled in chaos. When you offered... to have me able to redeem myself... I truly wished to try... To be different. I did it for you, Namira. I did it to save you. I did it.... because I wanted to be differen... I did it because... because..."

His voice cut off as emotion overtook him and Namira studied the trickster God for a long moment. Her eyes danced over the multitude of scars, both shallow and deep, that now decorated what had been the flawless skin of a God.

Her eyes lingered on the scar that demanded the most attention, the brand.

Namira's gaze wandered down, catching a wound she had missed, that he had kept hidden and so had gone unhealed as the other wounds had. The wound, still angry and a bright red, that peeked out from the undergarment Loki wore, trailing down to his most private parts, shouted of yet a greater cruelty and Namira's eyes widened as she recognised the pattern to be the same as the one on his shoulder, before her gaze shot up to meet his.

Loki's eyes held that blank look of suffering, hollow and empty as he offered the lightest nod before slipping the robe back on.

Namira stepped toward Loki then, who shied away from her, so Namira halted, summoning forth one of her apples as she extended it to him, "Recover. Heal what wounds you kept yet hidden from us."

Loki accepted the apple as it was offered to him, studying it with a vacant expression for a moment before those eyes rose back up to meet Namira's, "Thank you."

Namira inclined her head even as Loki rushed back to the portal. He had ventured out to see her, to let her know the full extent of his suffering and why he'd done it and now he retreated to the bedroom that had become his shelter to suffer his trauma alone, in silence but for the voice and memories still haunting him.

TBC...