Chapter 11

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   Loki is wallowing in self-pity and guilt.  How do I know? Well. No snarky remarks, no passing comment on the downfall of the human race, he hasn't even been reading.  He's just been sitting there staring at the fire with a blank look on his face. 

I get it.

He feels responsible for Thanos' return and maybe he slightly is but he's feeling bad for the both of us now.  I'm not too worried.  I'm anticipating, yes, and I'm doing my best to prepare, but I'm not all that worried. 

I watch him as he does the same thing he's been doing for the past two hours.

Which is absolutely nothing.

He hasn't even spoken more than a few words in the past four days.

Four.

Days.

I'm going to go insane.  I suspect Loki probably already has. 

I've done my best to give the guy some space because I mean inner turmoil is a bitch (I would know) but I've just about had it with his head-first, downward spiral.

He sighs.

Again.

"Loki?" I begin calmly.

No response.

I shut my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose trying to maintain some sort of control, "Loki, please stop."

"Stop what?" He asks monotonously.

That's it.

"Stop acting like this is totally your fault!" I shout, "Stop pretending you're the one to blame for Thanos.  You aren't!  Loki, it's not your goddamn fault!" I'm ranting now, yelling at the dumbstruck god.  I stand roughly.

I should really look into anger management classes.

He huffs, "Ah but it is my fault, Flora! If I had simply-"

I cut him off, "No, Loki!  It really isn't!  And even if it were moping around feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help a damn bit!"

His eyes flash, "Well there's nothing else I can do is there?! I'm stuck here, stripped of my magic, utterly defenseless, with a glorified mortal as my caretaker!  All I can do is wait for him to come because can't honestly believe you can stop him.  Do you? Well you can't, Flora!"

"You have very little faith in me, Loki." I say simply.

"Well you have far to much faith in yourself!" He pauses, "If I had just held out longer.  If I hadn't agreed so soon.  Or better yet if I had found a way to kill the bastard when he had me captive on that godforsaken rock of a planet. Better yet I should've just gotten myself killed when we fought the Dark Elves, but Thor insisted they scome back for my body.  They found me alive, Flora!  I should have died! Then this mess wouldn't even be happening!" He begins shouting now, matching my volume.

"Don't say that! Loki, for the last time. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault!" I emphasize every word, as if yelling at a child.

"Well then who's fault is it? I can't think of another-"

"Mine, okay!" I stop and look at the floor feeling my eyes begin to water. "It's my fault, Loki.  I had a chance to kill him after I got out of his stupor.  I had that chance and he got away and he found you.  It's my fault you were tortured.  It's my fault you were controlled.  It's my fault he's after you.  All of this." I gesture nowhere in particular, my voice becoming a whisper, "It's all my fault."

I sink to the floor,  it takes everything in me not to sob.  Small whimpers escape though as I realize just how true it is.  It's all my fault.

It's all my fault.

It's all my fault.

Loki doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity and I don't look at him. I can't look at him now.

It's all my-

I feel two spindly, yet surprisingly strong arms wrap around my shoulders from behind and before I can register what I'm doing my arms reach up to cling to his.  I hear him sit down behind me.

"Loki," I whisper shakily, "I'm so sorry."

And then the dam breaks. 

Hot, wet tears pour relentlessly from my eyes and I begin to tremble, silent sobs wracking my body.

I can't imagine what Loki must think of me at this point.  How hypocritical of me to be crying when I just gave him crap about moping around. 

He buries his face in my shoulder, and begins rocking back and forth.

"It's alright, Flora.  It's okay." He tries to comfort me and I hear him sigh, "There are some things we can not control. There are even more things that we can not change."

I close my eyes and relax into him.  We sit there for a few minutes until I calm down enough to wipe my eyes.

I turn my head to look at him, smiling sympathetically, "Sorry about that..." I trail off, unsure of what else to say.

He unwraps his arms from around me, "It's fine." He smiles back a little.

I don't let him go just yet, but turn around completely to give him a proper hug, "Thanks, Loki."

I sniffle a little and his arms come back up to wrap around my torso, "No, thank you."

We let go and he stands up, offering me a hand.  I take it and he helps me to my feet.

He sniffs and shifts awkwardly, "Yes, well.  This only proves that humans are far to sentimental to have any sort of conversation without bringing emotions into the mix..." he mumbles.

I giggle a little, not saying anything.

There's the Loki I know.

A Very Unlikely Tale // LokiWhere stories live. Discover now