riverviewlogs | Words they always win, but I know I'll lose

Entry tags:

Words they always win, but I know I'll lose

who: Loki + You
what: Memoriessss
when: During October
where: Dreamscape / First person visions
warnings: Attempted suicide, will add if others come up

[ Thor and Loki ]

[ Everything in this memory is golden. The firelight that flickers across the halls, the play of shadow and warmth. Even Loki’s shadow does not seem intimidating to Thor’s boisterous yell for “Another!” as the cup smashes into the open firepit. They stand together, as close as brothers can be. Joking, laughing. Thor’s loud voice remains a direct contrast to Loki’s smooth steady tone. As a servant hands Thor his helmet, Loki watches him swallow, the only hint of nerves in his indomitable brother. Loki starts with a low tease, drawing out another chuckle and jest from Thor.

“I was being sincere!”

“You are incapable of sincerity.”

“Am I?”

“Yes!”

There is no sign that Thor’s words bother Loki. After all, Loki is perceptive. He can often read between lines. His voice is low and soft, but unwavering.

“I have waited for this day as long as you have. You’re my brother and my friend. Sometimes, I am envious. But never doubt that I love you.”

Thor clasps his hand over Loki’s neck and again, it is old jokes between them. As it has always been. ]

[ Letting Go ]

[ Sometimes it changes. Sometimes Loki loses his grip. Sometimes Thor is holding his hand and he lets go. Sometimes it is Odin . . . the variations are endless as they play on his psyche. This time, it was different. It feels fresh, like he’s seeing it for the first time. The Bifrost shatters, an explosion of every colour that all vision goes blind and it seems it will never recover. He’s screaming, or believes he is when his flailing arm connects with Gungnir and Thor grasps the other end —

— And there is Odin. The three of them, hanging off the edge of the world. He wants to cry, his face crumpling. This was it, his shame painted across Asgard in red. But this was his father. Just moments ago, Loki killed Laufey for him. Surely, surely, his father will understand. He must. He has to.

“No, Loki.”

And like that, a calm descends upon Loki’s face. Ah, it seems to say. No more lies. The wind and the Void howls but Loki can hear nothing. Thor is begging, but Loki cannot see. Slowly, his grip loosens until he releases his fingers from Gungnir.

And he falls. Until all the stars are blotted out. Loki thinks he hears Thor scream but the Void has swallowed the sound whole. ]

[ Loki and Odin ]

[ Odin’s command comes too late as Loki rests his hands on the sides of the Casket. Even with his back turned, Loki’s voice comes as a hissed whisper, full of quiet anger and confusion, ready to spill over.

“Am I cursed?”

Odin says no, claiming Loki is his son. But Loki is no longer convinced. Not longer uncertain. He turns around slowly, feeling the taint of blue skin as he walks closer. Loki carefully disassembles Odin’s words until Odin starts telling the truth. About Jotunheim and Loki. Laufeyson. Loki’s face crumbles as it goes on, barely holding onto his calm. The monster that people tell their children about at night. Finally, one feeling wins and that is rage, pure and unadulterated. Loki screams at his father, each step more threatening than the next, even as Odin falters, barely on his knees before he collapses. Loki’s expression cracks, all the anger wiped clean. He bends to reach out to his father, to ascertain his health —

— But he’s afraid and his fingers stop short. Loki is scared to touch his father, knowing the truths that were just imparted on him. After a few seconds, Loki lets his hand rest on top of his father’s, watching the quiet heave of his chest before he calls the guards in a panic. Guards, help him! Please! ]

[ Loki is crowned King ]

[ It is a beautiful chamber, golden and bright, but not overwhelmingly so. And it is a large bed that takes up the space in the room, Odin’s quiet breaths barely heard over the stillness. Loki and Frigga sit on opposite sides. Loki seems muted, dwelling on something while Frigga tells him that she asked Odin to be honest from the beginning. ”There should be no secrets in the family.” For a terse few seconds, Loki says nothing before asking, ”So why did he lie?”

Frigga’s reasoning is clear. "So that you would never feel different. You are our son. And we love you. You must know that."

Loki’s expression doesn’t change. They discuss Odin’s state as Frigga rubs the All-Father’s hand reassuringly. She advises him not to lose hope. For his father. For Thor. It is the topic of Thor that has Loki’s expression tighten, hard to read. Finally he decides to get up, walking away with purpose from the bed. It’s clear he’s had enough, that this is too much for him to discuss anymore. But his head jerks up at the sound of the doors opening. The Einhenjar stand at the entrance and bow, their hands clasped to their chest. Loki stares, stunned as one of the oldest of Asgard’s advisors stride into the room and stand in front of Loki with . . . Gungnir. He bows and Loki’s expression creases in confusion and fear before he turns to his mother.

“Thor is banished. The line of succession falls to you. Until Odin awakens, Asgard is yours.”

Loki continues to stare. He’s lost, even as he turns back to Gungnir. The advisor raises it higher but Loki does not reach for it. Does not even think to do so. The sound of crows can be heard as Loki carefully raises his head and lets the advisor deposit the spear into his open palms. His fingers curl around them loosely, a strangeness seeping into his veins.

“Make your father proud,” Frigga says with a faint bow, “My king.”

Finally, he tightens his grip on the spear, something akin to a smile, but it’s awkward and it falls flat as his eyes widen. King.

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[ Angela knows right away, this is no dream. She's in Asgard, but it is not the Asgard she knows. Everything is dark, and golden. It lacks the old stonework and creeping vines of the Asgard she saw.

And there is... a bed. The largest bed she's ever seen, with old Odin lying in it. She scowls at the dreadful opulence of it before she notices who is sitting by Odin's bedside. Her not-brother. And across from him... What must be his mother, Odin's queen. This universe's Freyja.

She steps closer, edging over to Loki's side, listening silently to their conversation. All the while, she watches Loki's expression closely. When he stands to leave, however, she stays put, gazing down at the face of her not-father. He looks weakened, in this state. Yet somehow just as powerful as her Odin.

Het attention is drawn as the doors open and the guards outside kneel. Curious, she watches the rest of the memory play out. Not-Freyja explaining the line of succession. Loki accepting the scepter and thus the rule of Asgard...

And then she wakes.

She does not fall back asleep, instead sitting up and thinking over what she has seen. In the morning, she goes down to the kitchen for breakfast. When Loki comes in, she knows she must tell him what she saw in her dream. ]

Brother... Tell me, what is the Odinsleep? [ She pauses, starts over. ] I had the strangest dream last night.

[ Loki had felt it. The creeping conscious on his mind. He's far too familiar with mental touches not to tell when someone else has intruded. It was like being gutted, night after night. No spellwork he has seems to prevent his memories from seeping through and he's highly considering not sleeping at all. He's done it a few times before. Surely it can't be that hard. He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands when Angela's question has him tensing. A few minutes pass before the tension fades. ]

It is a form of rest that the All-Father falls under. He has to replenish his energy every few centuries or so.

[ His tone is deliberately calm and cool. But because Loki hates himself, he asks anyway. ]

What did you see?

I saw the All-Father, at rest. [ She pauses, before continuing, ] I saw a conversation which perhaps should have been kept private.

[ She looks away for a moment, and when her gaze returns to Loki, there is something pointed in her eyes. ]

I saw you become king.

Edited 2017-10-09 10:57 (UTC)

[ Loki can't help the sharp bark of laughter. ]

Are you sure? Asgard would protest mightily that my kingship had no legitimacy, since Thor was not around.

[ He only needs to remember Sif's dark looks aimed across the room. The Warriors Three were pensive at best. Old anger comes up like the tide, but fades away quickly too. Loki did not have the energy to sustain it. ]

[ Angela just watches him over her breakfast, waiting for his immediate emotional reaction to fade. She knows by now how he hides behind his anger and sarcasm. If she is patient, he will calm down and talk to her like a normal person. ]

[ When it's clear Angela wasn't taking the bait, Loki bites off his frustration with a snarl. It wasn't her and he — he is trying not to do this anymore. ]

I wasn't king for very long. So it hardly matters whether I was or not. It is never acknowledged. Never discussed. Like me, it is . . . disregarded.

[ There is still more self-pitying in his tone than Angela would like, but she has come to expect that with Loki. ]

Is it not better to have been king at all, and lost it, than to never have been king?

[ She wouldn't know. She's never had any aspirations to rule. And yet, she's technically queen of Hel. ]

[ His fingers curl into tight fists. ]

Odin would have never made me king. It was not better. It was a farce.

[This isn't the first time that Ava's dreams have been tampered with. Her connection to Natasha had meant that she'd spent about two years with her dreams being full of memories and feelings that weren't her own. But this is thankfully not just whispers, but something that seems almost real; different enough to not trigger that fear that old connections weren't as broken as they'd seemed.

She watches, the memory playing out before her and there's a horrified sort of understanding as she watches Loki, the way his face almost seems younger. Blue skin and red eyes. Things slip into place, like pieces of a puzzle she hadn't quite realized were missing. There had been that strange way he'd reacted to her, but hadn't judged her, and suddenly she sees why. It's painful to watch, even if it's not her pain, the way he talks about monsters and bedtime stories. She can't find the words, even as the scene fades out; Odin fallen and the guards rushing in.

There's a darkness left behind that seems both real and not, dream and memory. Loki stands there and Ava watches him carefully for a breath.]

Loki?

[Her tone isn't sharp, neither pity nor judgement, but a soft sort of empathy.]

Don't.

[ He wants nothing from her. He wants her to stop looking, but it's clear she's seen everything and Loki is drowning again. Cut her tongue out but he couldn't, not after knowing what she looks like, what her form really seems like. His heart aches, seeing a father he once knew, a form he wants banished into nothingness, a moment when he thought I could do it, I can make this right.

A child's delusion. ]

It's not the same and I will not hear it.

I would never say it was.

[Her voice stays soft, watching him, a slight frown that briefly tugs at her lips, a flicker of offense that he thinks she would.]

That hurt isn't the same as mine. And I'm not so much a child to think these things can really be compared.

[Just like Bucky's hurt isn't the same, either. There's a difference between empathy and feeling like you can call someone else's pain your own, equate it out to something else.

But there are things that can be shared, even if they're not the same. But she doesn't think he needs or wants her to point that out, so she doesn't.]

[ Loki rears back with a hiss at the word child like he's been slapped. It is clear he's barely hanging out, his voice outpacing his thoughts. ]

Then what? Do you think this is solidarity? You could never be like a Frost Giant, you with your ties to your heroes and their open acceptance. To know you were born a monster and they pretended otherwise.

[She hadn't meant it as an affront, but she doesn't take it back either. She's never as graceful at this as Natasha was. That effortless dance of all the right words; although Ava is admittedly more honest, for better and worse. She does keep from asking things that are clearly too sensitive, but she knows she has a habit of pushing too far or saying things wrong.]

I think you're the only person that has seen me like that and not flinched.

[She doesn't like saying things like that because it feels like a vulnerability, but she risks it. Because there are so few people that don't make that self-loathing curl in her chest when it comes to what she is now. And he has been helping her. There are things she wishes she could say, that she wishes that she knew the nuance for, but everything feels like a minefield with Loki so clearly all sharp edges.]

I don't know what that kind of betrayal's like. But I didn't grow up on acceptance and heroics, either.

[ Sadly, Loki takes everything as an affront. Especially since wounds of a personal nature are bare. Easily read. A child, a prayer. Pathetic. He digs his nails into his arms, hoping for the bite of pain to follow. Curse the dreamscape. Loki knows ways to travel the paths, but he has no idea how to circumvent this. Such skills were left to the Other or . . . Him. ]

Betrayal?

[ Loki laughs. His eyes glitter with madness. ]

They didn't betray me. No, what they did was far better. They ruined me. I woke up and found my home was a nest of my enemies. The people I grew up with — they would have killed me. Any time. Any where. All I had to do was drop the pretense and my beloved brother's hammer would come down and smash my head like an egg.

[She listens, lets him rage, and she understands the anger there. She can only imagine how horrifying that must have been. She's never really had a home before this place, so she doesn't really understand that sense of having safety turned upside down. She knows it only as fear, not as truth. That if Steve or Bucky saw her bared down to the truth they'd pull away from her the same as everyone else, no matter how she tells herself that they're better than that.]

..Were you scared?

[It's probably the wrong question, but she can't help asking anyway. Because it's a horrifying thought. And she remembers her terror when she thought SHIELD would either wipe her or kill her. And she had never trusted them to begin with.]

[ That stops him short, his expression a mixture of pain and hurt. The answer was clear. He was scared. He's still scared. Loki continues to operate on the belief that the world is out to get him and all it takes is one brief moment of vulnerability and he will suffer for it.

( like he had once, long ago, when the bifrost broke under him ) ]

[Eddie's seen a lot of things that completely challenged his entire worldview both in the months before his death, and in the time he's been in Riverview. He's seen magic and science so advanced it might as well have been magic, he's seen aliens and monsters and ghosts, but this is something else.

Even more than the moon they're on, this looks like another world entirely, with an endless void of stars and galaxies and darkness, the peril of hanging off a cliff into what looks like outer space. It's almost beyond understanding.

But despite all the strangeness, how out-of-this-world it is, Eddie recognizes the emotion of the moment. The fear, the longing, the rejection, and the way the man in the dream gives up, lets go. Eddie doesn't speak, at first. The only sound he makes is a sharp, loud gasp as the man falls into the void.]

[ Loki spins around at the sound of another's voice, the colour draining from his face. They saw. His weakness, his heart and all the destruction that came with it. They saw and Loki went through a myriad of emotions before settling on anger. ]

Who are you to intrude on my memories, mortal?

[She can read that expression, the pain and the hurt. The answer there in his eyes and she nods softly. She doesn't judge him for it; there's no way that realization could have been anything but pain. Of course he'd be scared.

He sighs softly, a slight tilt of her head. She wants to offer him something, but she knows how short reassurances can fall. But she tries anyway.] I wont tell anyone. I can't-- give it back. But it's your secret.

It isn't a secret.

[ Not really. It is an intrinsic hateful part of himself. Loki hides it because he doesn't want to acknowledge it, but secrecy has little to do with it. Not when he fully embodies the Frost Giant myths. Besides, Thor knows the truth and Loki doubts that his brother had hidden it. He has no talent for subterfuge and he doesn't understand the nature of Loki's hatred. ]

I am simply not that eager to die due to my skin.

[She nods, understanding the difference. Her powers hadn't been a secret back home, but that didn't make it easier.]

Do you feel safer here than back home?

[She's curious. She does. And she's not exactly willing to assume that means the same thing for him, but she is interested. Because Riverview is many things, but it's not their world. For better and for worse.

The dreamscape starts to swirl as they talk, until the scene is the roof of a building. It's Ava, a bit younger, more clearly a teenager, and her stance is defensive, like she's under attack. The woman facing her is dressed in black, aviator sunglasses, and black hair.

"Who are you?" the image of Ava snaps, sharp, her fangs so close to the surface before she'd learned to hide them.

"You know who I am, сестра," the woman says, voice low and grim. Ava's eyes sharpen, a flash of complicated feelings that range from hurt to love and heated anger.

"Это ты," she says, staring, like it's not quite real, falling back into Russian out of habit.

"So it would seem." The woman presses the security badge that hangs around her neck, and a light flashes red, her face and voice seeming to glitch for a moment, and she slides her wig off and folds the aviators before slipping them in her pocket. The woman standing there is none other than Natasha Romanoff. Hair the same bright red as Ava's, and you can almost see the fury that bleeds off the young girl, fury and hurt.]

This is just a child's tantrum.

[Ava tries to insist softly, crossing her arms over her chest, shoulders curling in as she watches her own memory start play in the dark around them. Trying to act like this doesn't matter. She knows that if there was a way to stop this, Loki would never have allowed her to see his. So all she can do is watch.]

I never feel safe.

[ It's what he lives by, what keeps him alive. Even if Loki has little interest in living, the spite and the knowledge that everyone is fooled by his death and he succeeded in keeping the throne lets him keep his head above water. For a while. He's not deluded enough to believe it will last forever. However, his attention is caught by the new memory. The Widow. Loki has always been . . . fond of her. He respects talent. ]

Is it?

[She nods, because she understands that. If not for Bucky and Steve, she's not sure that she would either. She can't help watching as the memory plays out. Back when she could hold onto her rage without worrying about the fallout.]

Yes.

[But her voice is small and soft, and it's a lie. It's not so easily dismissed as a child's tantrum; it's anger and hurt, it's caring and open vulnerability. They stand there, facing each other, tension tense and dangerous, the way that Ava's eyes are as hard and bitter as flint speaks to old wounds.

"You never came back," the girl says, the words deceptively steady for the hurt that they hide.

"No. I didn't," Natasha answers. There's no apology there, though the words are quiet in the space between them. The quiet stretches out and Ava shifts to stand on the edge of the roof, looking down at the traffic from the heights for a breath, trying to pull back that anger, but there's no place for her to go.

"You promised you would come for me, but you never did. You handed me over to SHIELD and then left me to rot," Ava says when she finally speaks again, her hands curling into fists at her sides.

"In some circles they call that growing up." Natasha is unflinching, dispassionate to a degree that's openly cruel.

"I wrote to you. I went to the Embassy and tried to cash in the paper hourglass you gave me. They turned me away. They laughed at me."

"I know. Who exactly do you think told them to?" The fury colors Ava's face, flushing her pale skin with heat, hurt and humiliation and the fact that she doesn't know how not to care about the woman who so easily twists the knife.

"But I knew no one. I was all alone in a world where no one cared. And you left me to die."

"But you didn't, did you?" Natasha doesn't even deny it, pitiless as she watches Ava. No remorse. There are lessons here, but they're as cold and cruel as the woman herself.

"Die? No, I didn't. No thanks to you." She shrugs her shoulders, looking off to the side, that anger and bitterness that can only come from caring. "I can only depend on myself."

"Exactly. You're welcome," Natasha says with a humorless twitch to her lips. In the dreamscape, Ava's blue eyes start to glow. She tries not to remember, not to feel those feelings she can't quite escape. The loneliness, the isolation, the feeling of being so unwanted by the one person that pretended to care.]

None of this matters. She doesn't even remember me here.

[She tries to shrug her shoulders like that doesn't matter, but her fingers press hard into her arms, trying to keep her emotions in check.]

[ This was the Widow? Loki could see the signs in the lines of her shoulders, the sharpness in her gaze. But this was not her, not quite. Loki had assumed Ava had direct ties to his universe, but perhaps not. Love is for children. He could almost admire the ruthlessness of her lesson. Certainly, Loki has learned from the best and she clearly took notes from similar people. ]

It matters.

[ Not to Loki and he won't pretend that it does. He's not capable of that kind of empathy, but he . . . is softer. Perhaps because he cannot deny the connection. For good or for ill, it is another thread in the noose. And Loki respects the noose. ]

Because it happened and no one will validate it.

[It's been a fucking awful week and Taako would like it be over, please, but apparently the universe has different ideas for him. There isn't a lot to the memory he sees, but Taako knows Loki's voice, even if he doesn't recognize the man in front of him.

Even after seeing it, there's a day or two before Taako finally makes the decision to tell Loki, having waffled back and forth for a while, unsure.]

So, I got some of your shit. We don't have to talk about it but it felt weird keeping it a secret or whatever.

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Words they always win, but I know I'll lose

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dreamscape;

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dreamscape; letting go

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text; @fromTV