A Very Unlikely Tale // Loki

Chapter 2

{edited}

I remain where I am for a few minutes, deciding how I'm going to approach this situation. Glancing up at my home, I decide to give him the room of one of my old tenants.

There have been very few people who knew my secret, who didn't see me as someone to fear. Sometimes they didn't have anywhere else to go, so I let them stay with me for a while.

John, born in 1915, was one of the kindest souls I had ever known. He stayed with me for a few years until he could afford his own home, and had left some clothes in his old room by my request.

"Just in case." I had said.

In 2005, when he was 90 years old, I sat in his hospital room holding his hand as he stared at me.  His grin somehow remained untouched by the withering hand of time.  I didn't think I could return the grin as he asked me to, but I did my best as I felt him fade.

He had kept in touch, and I was very grateful.

I look at Loki and sigh, deciding it was time for introductions.

Slowly, to let his eyes adjust to the light, I remove the soft sack from his head and almost drop it at the sight it was hiding.

His lips, sewn tightly together, are preventing his mouth from opening at all. Dried, cracked blood surrounds the stitching and the area around his eyes is a deep purple from a severe lack of rest.

He looks like a dead man walking.

I let my face become an emotionless slate. I will not let him see my pity. This man tried to make us slaves, tried to rule us. This man is a murderer. A mons-

No.

I take a breath and meet his eyes, which are staring back in a cold glare.

"Can you walk?" I question him.

He keeps staring at me. Unmoving. I can't say I don't understand.  It seems like dignity is all he has. 

I fight a small smile, and gently take hold of his elbow, helping him to his feet, "You know, the more difficult you are, the more unpleasant this is going to be."

He tries to snatch his arm from my grasp and nearly topples over when I let him go willingly.   I only steady him and begin walking.

I wait by the stairwell, brushing my hand over the living handrail, "Follow me."

Assuming he would stubbornly remain where he is, I begin climbing the steps. If he wants to stay outside I won't stop him.  He can only go as far as Odin's "chain" will allow. 

However, to my surprise, he begins to follow.  True, he doesn't seem too happy about it, but it's a start.

As I continue upward, I glance over my shoulder when hear him breathing heavily through his nose. I wonder how weak he truly is. How long has it been since he's eaten?

I pause in my ascent, "Take a break if you need it."

Loki's head snaps up and he looks at me angrily. Instead of taking my offer, he pushes past me roughly and indignantly climbs the stairwell.

"Rude." I mutter. This is going to be interesting.

I follow him up and find him steadying himself against the door frame, still breathing heavily and looking as though he could pass out at any given moment. 

Wordlessly, I wrap my arm around his waist and, once again to my surprise, he lets me.

I take him to John's room, and help him sit down on the bed.

"There are clothes in the closet if you can manage to put them on." I gesture to the small wardrobe, "They'll be too big but I guess it's better than nothing."

Without waiting for his response, I walk to the small restroom and fill the tub with warm water.  "There's a little bathroom if you need to wash up. I know the cuffs will make that difficult but they're staying on for now." I pause, "Listen, Loki.  I know you probably feel like a prisoner and in a way I guess you are, but I want to make this as easy as possible for as long as you're here..." I trail off, unsure of where I was going with that bit of conversation, "Well, I'll be back in an hour." I walk away, closing the door behind me.

I decide to go to my room and gather my wits and make decisions for the future of my new ward.  The stitching keeping his lips sewn shut will definitely be removed as soon as possible.  The shackles, however, are staying until I feel I can trust him enough not to do anything...well, murderous.

I change into something more comfortable, kicking my heavy boots off and all but jumping onto the bed.  Staring up at the ceiling, I try my best to push the events of today from my mind for the next... I check the clock...for the next forty-five minutes of my life.  Finding this excruciatingly difficult, I huff and snatch a small, red book from the nightstand, flipping it to a random page.

Finally, I am absorbed into the tiny collection of Grimm's Fairytales, and get blissfully lost in a world far simpler than my own.