When Storms Come and Stars Collide ~ Book I ~ Thor Fanfiction

Chapter 18: The Stolen Relic

Chapter 18: The Stolen Relic

Loki approached the artifact. He could feel his heart racing and his jaw muscles clenching as he reached for its handles. The casket hummed when it sensed a presence. The volume increased, expressing its final warning to Loki as he approached.

Once he touched the Casket of Winters, there was no turning back. He could still walk away from this; there was still time. In truth, Loki wanted to walk away from all this and lock his fears away for good, branding it as a meaningless nightmare. However, he was obsessed at this point. He had no emergency exit, despite the double doors behind him. He may be the god of mischief - a talented pretender - but he required the truth. He deserved to know.

For that, he grasped the handles. The artifact buzzed under his touch. The process was numbing. He couldn't feel the change but could see it with his own eyes - the answer to his most devastating question.

He gasped for air, struggling to breathe. His teary eyes darted side to side - hand to hand, almost as if he was shaking his head. His parted mouth was dry from the lack of moisture.

"Stop!"

The door silently opened and shut, which created a breeze through the back of Loki's head. It should've made a noise, assuming Loki was too involved in his thoughts to hear the king's entrance. Odin's one-word attempt couldn't prevent the inevitable, and they both knew it.

"Am I cursed?" Loki remained still, his hands still holding the artifact.

"No," Odin assured.

"What am I?" Loki challenged in a whisper, slowly placing the casket back into place.

"You're my son."

Loki finally turned around to face his father. Much to Loki's horror, his color changed. His skin was dark blue, revealing patterned lines around his forehead, across his cheeks, and chin. His eyes were bloody red, identical to a beast.

"What more than that?" Loki hissed as the paleness masked his skin, returning to his Asgardian form. He approached his father, who averted his son's narrowed stare, "The casket wasn't the only thing you took from the Jotunheim that day, was it?"

Odin paused for a minute as his son reached the bottom step, waiting for an answer.

"...No," Odin admitted quietly. Taking a deep breath, his eyes hesitantly met his youngest as he began his tale, "In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple and found a baby. Small, for a giant's offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son."

"Laufey's son?" Loki choked out.

"Yes," Odin confirmed.

Loki looked away from his father. He couldn't begin to express how he felt: hurt, angry, betrayed - all mixed in one emotion. Questions slipped through his silver tongue without thought. He knew the answers already but required confirmation from the king himself.

"Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child."

"No," Loki shook his head, catching Odin's lie instantly, "you took me for a purpose. What was it?" Odin didn't answer. Odin was wearing a layer of Loki's patience with every passing second of silence, crippling his sanity. Loki couldn't take the suspense—no more games.

"Tell me!" He cried with pain and desperation in his voice.

"I thought I could unite our kingdoms one day," Odin admitted, "bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace through you."