Of Cunning and Kinship || Loki x reader

Chapter twenty two

You were mad. Mad with fury, sadness and hatred. And you swore your vision turned red as you blindly walked through corridors, wishing to burn it all to a crisp; anything that could extinguish your hurt.

Paying Geri no mind, it took all your willpower to prevent your increasingly short fuse from expiring. The doors to your room opening the moment a dam seemed to break.

Reason was forgotten as you thrashed through the place in a hurricane of despair; pillows were torn, chairs were turned, you punched the mattress and screamed into the covers, yet the weight in your chest wouldn't alleviate. When all energy was spent, all you could muster was curling up and letting silent tears fall.

The familiarity of the scenario was ironic, hadn't you aided someone in that situation what felt like aeons before? The comparison made a mad chuckle escape your lips.

You'd never felt more alone, you wished the bed would swallow you whole. Odin was right, you were not capable of completing your self imposed mission. You were a weak mortal in the presence of the divine, incapable of ruling your own mind.

Both mentally and physically exhausted, you embraced sleep with open arms, desperately hoping for a dreamless slumber.

-

You spent the next few days pretending The Problem didn't exist; hiding from your troubles inside the sumptuous library.

However, whenever you opened a new book and read the foreign words with perfect clarity, you were reminded of who had granted you such power, and your cheeks burned in embarrassment all the same.

Every day you expected the king to kick you out of the Realm; if you weren't carrying on with your 'mission' there was no reason for you to be there, after all. But no einheri came crashing down your room or looked more bothered than usual with your presence. If anything, Geri seemed even gentler and more eager to attend to your needs.

As for Hild, bless her heart, she didn't know what had caused your outburst, but she had quietly helped you clean the room that night and now kept offering tea when you looked a tad bit sombre.

It took almost a week of your self imposed isolation for a familiar handmaiden to summon you; and you dreaded the incoming reunion with every step you took to the royal chambers.

-

Frigga idly played with her hands in a sore attempt to calm her nerves.

"Norns guide me," she whispered to herself before being enveloped by a green mist.

And just like that the lavish tapestries of her private quarters were replaced by the glaring lights of the prison's cell, where a lonesome figure was quietly reading.

"One could think it would be peaceful to be buried alive under a palace,"

The man spoke. Her son, oh how it hurt; the queen might've as well been physically struck. She had gone over that situation a hundred times in her head; but not even that, nor the thousands of years' worth of wisdom prevented her from going speechless.

Reason had evaded her, even her instincts, the ones of a soldier, a sorceress, a mother, now seemed to fail her.

Her sons had never talked back at her, that had always been a reason for pride. She knew they had enough trust and respect for her to never be crass.

Or at least they used to.

"I trust you've found the room comfortable enough," was all she could muster.