The Old Scars | Loki Hurt/Comfort

The Temptation

still Loki's POV:

I lose track of time as I keep staring at my reflection in the weapon's polished metal blade. Not because I love myself, I truly don't, on the contrary. No more than a disgusting little Jotun. Weak. The longer I look at the distorted face, the less does it look like someone I know, and as the tears dry, vanishing from my face minute after minute, emotion seems more and more absent in the image that suddenly craves all my attention.

Mother used to say my face was the most pure in all the nine realms. Never had she been a liar, but for sure it wasn't. Or it wasn't anymore. Not often had she seen my eyes red from hours of crying, my face littered with the temporary marks my fingernails left with every scratch, my skin purplish from the lack of oxygen in my veins when I tightened the grip around my neck further until my fingers became so numb they voluntarily let go.

It always felt so good in a strange way.

Mother had noticed I was struggling from time to time, and yet there was nothing she could do about it. Odin was the influential one, he was the allfather, he had taken me in and saved my life. I should be happy he did.

But was I? Was I really happy to be alive? Not rarely do I wonder what would have happened to me if Odin had left me to my fate. But what was my fate, my destiny? Had Laufey really left me to die? Weren't children protected in temples? Or didn't even those monsters think I was good enough? Of course they didn't. If I hadn't been brought to Asgard, I would probably live like them now, uneducated in magic and unaware of all the great cultural achievements Asgard and some other realms can offer. But still, I would probably be king of Jotunheim by now.
Or dead.

Odin had thought all I desired was a throne. But that's far from true, it never was! Thor and I were raised in the belief one of us would be king one day. The allfather should have told me from the beginning that Thor had always been destined to follow him. Both of us were born to be kings, just meant for different thrones. Though all I had been born for was to rule over brainless hordes of monsters. Not even for that, Laufey found me strong enough.

Today I know for Odin, it had always been clear Thor would succeed him. As we got older, I started to realize that too, but I was genuinely happy for Thor. And yet I knew his reign would plunge the nine realms into disaster and bring enemies to Asgard's gates.

For the sake of what I believed to be my people, I had to avert this danger! So the day Thor was supposed to be crowned, I helped a few frost giants travel to Asgard concealedly to cause disturbance and postpone the coronation. Everything worked out exactly as I had wanted it to. That was all I had planned, and I thought Odin wouldn't crown Thor as long as he was worried about the peace between the realms. 

But then, suddenly, things got out of hand and I soon lost track of the events as everything kept spiraling downward faster and faster, the happenings of a few days resulting in the fall, the fall into the void, an abyss as horrible as it could be.

Wait, I guess I skipped some events here.

Thor was an even bigger oaf than I had expected him to be and wanted to take revenge on the frost giants for interrupting his coronation ceremony. At that moment, visiting Jotunheim seemed like a good opportunity to make Odin dislike Thor further, but how could I've known what I'd discover there.

No, I can't think about it now, never is it pleasant but I am sure today I can't take that burden.

Sighing heavily, I look at my face in the shining metal. It would be so easy, so easy it's almost ridiculous. Just yesterday, I had thought nothing was keeping me here in Midgard, residing among the living. I had not intended to but definitely thought about taking that shortcut to Hel. 

I chuckled. As if I'd have a chance to go to Valhalla. Farewell forever, beloved mother.

And yet now Y/N seems to care about me. Looks like she really does. So what are my options? She mustn't waste her time checking on me, but wouldn't she be hurt if I left now? Yes, she would. I can't do that, right? She has done nothing wrong and life doesn't seem to have been easy on her anyway.

Oh for Odin's sake, this is so frustrating. I had almost been ready, I was isolated and probably nobody would have noticed for a week or so. Not even Y/N had come by often. I was so free when I was alone in my room, free of responsibilities, free of people I had to talk to frequently.

But the more often Y/N had visited, the clearer it became to me I couldn't be such a coward. I have always been one, but now I have to accept that she wants to help me.

I gladly dare to bet she can't. No one ever could.

Why would she want to help you? Nobody does, you monster. Unwished burden. Insult to your kind, weak and small as you are.

"ENOUGH!!"

I scream, throwing the dagger away, wanting the voices to disappear along with it. Shivers run down my spine as the metal of the knife hits the floor with a loud klink. The mere sound chills my flesh to the bone.

"Go away, leave me alone, I'm not the monster, YOU ARE! YOU MADE ME ONE!"

I pull my knees to my chin and put my arms around them, just like I used to do when I was a small boy. Oh, how insignificant my reasons were. But was it any different today? 

I shoot the dagger lying in the corner a quick glance. The tempting urge to let go of all the pain just for a moment, or maybe even forever. And yet I'd regret it afterward - if I was still alive to regret anything at all.

No, Loki, no, get it out of your head. You can't give in to the voices, not again. Y/N is going to see, and she's going to be disappointed. She's not mother but you don't want to disappoint her, right? She will think it's her fault. SO DON'T YOU DARE THINK ABOUT TOUCHING THAT DAMN DAGGER!

It was a voice from my head too, yet a - and probably the only - good one. Could be the last bit of common sense I have left.

I narrow my eyes glancing at the blade again like it could blow up any moment. Slowly I reach for it, my slowly recovering magic making it come back to my hand. My fingers enclose the cold metal one at a time. All the pain it has caused. To others as well as to me.  The fights in which it had helped me survive, and the fight it could help me end.

Another deep sigh, then I lower my head and close my eyes. A tear, and another one. I break down on my floor, crying, screaming, hitting the ground, still holding the knife in my hand. 

Why me, why was it always me, can't I finally have a fulfilled life someday?

Not as long as you don't deserve it.

My vision's blurry from all the crying and my voice is barely a whisper.

"Leave me alone...Leave me be..."

I send the weapon back to where I had conjured it from, wishing to not see it again for at least a day or two.

Tomorrow.

A/N:

Hey readers!
I'm slightly concerned about the format of this chapter, especially the paragraphs, as I'm currently editing and publishing this on my phone while watching some beautiful landscape fly by outside my train window!

How are y'all doing?

I'd also love to hear some feedback about this story's writing, plot, etc. as it would help me a lot.

Thanks for reading, maybe consider voting?