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Loki walked into the - well, what was left of- the Jotunheim Castle. At one point, a very small point, and very long ago, it had been his home. He didn't normally feel sentimental for this part of his life, he had grown up on Asgard, and to him, that was his home. Odin and Frigga were his parents, as he could not consider Laufey as such. He internally shuddered at the thought. Externally, he only winced.
He wandered the long-forgotten halls of this great castle. He mused that it would have been quite grand, back when it was in use. Now, it was a ruin of what it could have been, what it once was. The walls and pillars showed the wear and tear of a thousand years, and even before that, the scars of a great battle. Pieces were missing everywhere, large chunks of ice taken from the overall structure. Sconces lined the halls, unlit; some broken, lying on the floor, others surprisingly intact. It was obvious no one had been here for ages.
Loki ran his hand along a wall, seeing the crystal clear, smooth, mirror-like quality the ice still held. He could almost see…no, it was gone. He puzzled over this fact. It had seemed like he could briefly see the blurred image of a warm firelight, and figures in the room behind him reflected in the wall; but of course, no one and nothing was there. And he already knew without looking. No, this felt too nostalgic for that. What was going on? Was he seeing things from the past in these long forgotten walls? Surely not...he hadn't been here since he was but an infant. There was no way he remembered anything of what happened in this castle. He hardly knew what he was doing here. Like he had thought before, he wasn't normally sentimental about this part of his life. All he knew, was that it felt like something deep inside him, in the part he kept locked away, his Jotunn half, was calling him here. He couldn't quite explain it, didn't really want to understand it, but it felt like…longing. He had come to see what it looked like, this place where he was born, but now that he was here, he wanted something more. To remember what it was like.
It took a moment, but he shook the feeling off, continuing to walk along the corridor, his hand trailing along the wall.
He passed through many rooms, examining each as he went. He supposed they were beautiful, in their own way. Though ruins of their former glory, the craftsmanship was detailed and exquisite, the ice carved into intricate borders and shapes. The furniture, as well, was made mostly of ice, and when it was not, it was made of wood, or the hides of beasts. In one room, scrolls and books, far larger than those in the libraries on Asgard, or near about anywhere else, lay on a table, scattered from their last usage. It appeared to have been a hurried one.
He trailed up the stairs, gazing around. He took his time, taking it all in. Though his tastes were more refined to Asgardian standards, he had to admit that it was beautiful. And back then, it must have been breathtaking. ‘Home’ said a part of him. That infuriating, miniscule part of him that missed what was once his. ‘Except it never was.’ he thought. He did his best to squash it.
The first door he came to at the top of the stairs, he entered.
It looked like every other room, in the sense that it was made mostly of ice, its walls intricately carved with different beasts, warriors and symbols, but this room was what appeared to be a bedchamber. And not just any bedchamber; a nursery. A cradle, resting on its rockers, sat near the northwest corner of the room, fully furnished. Luxurious and heavy animal skin blankets lined it, a place shaped out, right in the center, for an infant; but the cradle was oddly small for a frost giant, even an infant one. Its wood was carved with figures and battles, what Loki could guess were stories. Jotunheim stories. Beside the cradle was a rocking chair. Two, actually. One was what one would assume a frost giant would sit in, and the other,...was not. It was small. Human sized, actually. Something that one of his own height and size could sit in with relative comfort, without it feeling too large, or too small. It didn't make much sense. Unless the Jotunns were in the habit of employing human nannies.
There was also a fur rug in the room, but what caught Loki’s eye was something hanging above the cradle. Walking towards it, he lifted a hand, hovering just next to the little mobile. Smaller than normal, as with the chair and cradle, it bore crystal fragments of ice, wood carvings of animals, and frosted leaves of a pine like tree. It was…..beyond words. He could tell that love and care went into this. And all of a sudden, he knew whose room this was. Strangely small objects, intricate and elaborate decor,....and this mobile. Something about it was so familiar. He reached out his hand and jostled the strands, making them bounce together with a tinkling noise. From somewhere in his memories, the ghost of a baby's laugh filled the room, followed by a woman's. As he looked at the mobile, a lilting tune filled his ears, sung by the woman, the melody warm and comforting.
"Sleep, little Loki, sleep."
He couldn't remember the words, save for that, but he knew the song. His heart knew it. He glanced at the ice wall next to the cradle, and gasped in shock. There was an image in the ice, crystal clear and defined, as if looking into the next room. Only it was this room. The only thing that separated the image from reality was the ripple across it from the ice. In it, he could see a woman, he had no doubt it was the same woman, twirling slowly about in this very room, smiling down at the baby in her arms.
The woman was human, and the baby…was him.
Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember....
In the ice, the woman started singing, slowing her movements to a soothing pace, she rocked the baby in her arms.
And a song someone sings, once upon a December....
Loki found himself following her movements, mirroring them. As she swayed from side to side, he couldn't help but do the same. 'This woman must be....'
Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance through a sliver storm....
He watches as she walks over to the cradle, gently placing the baby inside and wrapping him in the blankets, singing all the while. When she's done, she jostles the mobile, just as Loki had done only moments ago. His hand twitches at the memory.
Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory....
He watches as she leans down to kiss the baby's head, then moves towards the door. Though her path in the memory would have been straight, her path through the walls took her down one wall, around the corner and to the still open door, appearing on the other side of it, and moving into the hallway. Not knowing what else to do, Loki followed her.
Back out in the hall, the images in the wall continued. Now, the woman was accompanied by two attendants as she moved forward with purpose. For the first time, Loki noticed her attire. She was dressed grandly, her golden hair done up in an elegant style, darker golden chains and circlet adorning it. Her dress was a rich wine, long-sleeved and draped, far grander than normal palace attire. She appeared to be dressed for a ball.
As Loki followed the small party down the hall, they came to a stop at a set of double doors - or more rightly, on a set of double doors - which the attendants opened for her. He watched as she moved inside, the party beyond her. Loki gripped the handles of the actual doors, throwing both open to reveal the throne room. A large area of ice floor stretched from the stairs before him, to those leading up to the large throne across the room, overlooking everything. The throne room doubled as a ball room.
Glancing towards the walls, he saw dancing couples, of various heights and realms, decked out in finery and twirling about in their partners arms. The woman made her way through the crowd, disappearing from his sight behind swirling couples from time to time. On the other end of the room, he saw a frost giant seated on the throne. In the memory, though he wasn't quite sure he could call it that now, he rose from it, his eyes fixed on the woman making her way towards him. Laufey. She curtsied deep before him, and to Loki’s amazement, and perhaps shock, Laufey quickly helped her up from that position, taking her hand ever so gently. They gazed at each other for a while, simply basking in the other's presence, and Loki thought the older frost giant looked more like snow here, soft and gentle, than like the hard and piercing ice he knew him to be.
After a moment, he offered her his hand, and she took it, smiling, as he led her onto the dance floor, becoming engulfed in the crowd.
Loki realized that he didn't have to content himself with watching through walls, nor did he want to. He could get a better view of the whole thing….
Raising his hands, green mist formed near the walls on both sides, and figures twirled out of the wall and green shimmering clouds, as though this were part of their dance. All of a sudden, the entire ballroom scene was laid out before him, each and every member of the party brought to life by his magic. Echoes of music and laughter filled his head, and the buzz of conversation. Banquet tables lined the two side walls, laid and dressed. A crowd of people stood on the outskirts on either side by the tables, watching the dancers in the center of the floor.
There were many. Swirls of pink and green, ice blue and wine red, sprinklings of gold and silver splashed about. Merry faces topped each dress as their suited counterparts lifted them into the air, whirling them around.
His eyes were drawn naturally to the center of the dance floor, where the duplicated casting of Laufey was still leading the woman by the hand to the center of the floor. Once reached, the two joined in the dance, gently waltzing in the middle of the crowd.
Loki moved slowly down the staircase, observing the party around him, and the couple in the middle.
Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance through a silver storm....
Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory....
At the bottom of the staircase, a group of girls waited, energetically chatting amongst themselves and watching as he descended. Curious…if a bit annoying. When he arrived, they flocked to him, gushing over him in excitement and adoration. He felt slightly baffled, though he didn't show it. But he also basked in it. After all, this was all he'd ever wanted. But what had brought this on? He began to understand when the three, a brunette, a red-head, and a blonde, produced an icy crown from behind their backs. Walking up the steps behind him, they placed the crown on his head, where it sat as though it was made for him. Which, he guessed, it was.
It stunned him. Yes, he was a prince of Jotunheim, yes, he was their rightful king, but somehow, the reality of it didn't hit him until these three girls placed the crown of ice upon his head. He belonged here.
And he let himself.
Offering his hand to the lady on his left, the brunette, he led her to the dance floor, joining the ball he had until now only been observing. Her hand on his shoulder, his at her waist, he led her through the waltz.
Far away, long ago, glowing dim as an ember....
He switched partners for the red-head. It felt strange, just letting himself go like this. Part of him, his more rational, Asgardian side, held back, observing all of this. The rest of him, though, was finally free. That Jotunn part of him, once so small and locked away, filled his heart in this moment, and he felt connected. To be a part of this. This is what he had wanted; what his soul had craved since coming here. And now, he was getting a taste of it.
Switching partners a final time, he danced a circle round the center of the floor with the other guests, the blonde in his arms. Her skirts spun out around them.
Things my heart used to know....
His gaze was once again drawn to the middle of the floor, where the king and his partner danced their waltz, slow and gentle. They seemed in a world of their own creation, much like his. He wondered…how they had felt about him. If they had loved him. He wondered idly if Frost Giants could even feel love. He had met Laufey before, and had been none-too-impressed. But then he couldn't say, for he'd never known him as him. But this woman…
Things it yearns to remember....
His gaze had ceased to be on anything but her and Laufey, and even then, his eyes seemed only for her. He barely noticed as he came to a stop, his partner with him, his hand still clasped in hers.
From where she was, smiling up at the King of Jotunheim, the woman caught Loki’s eyes, and turned her face to smile warmly at him, as if only he existed. As if she loved him.
He released his partner as the rest of the inhabitants of the room disappeared in a green shimmer. Only he and the woman remained.
And a song, someone sings....
She stood there, hands folded in front of her, that same warm smile on her face, waiting for him. As if drawn, Loki made his way towards her. It felt like a dream. He eventually stopped, right in front of her. They gazed at each other, memorizing and learning. He noticed, now that he was looking at them, that her eyes were ice blue, just like his. Somehow, that made him feel closer to her. He shared at least this one trait with her, his biological…mother.
Emotions welled up inside him, and he brought in a shaky breath, but his eyes remained locked on hers. She smiled at him again, and this time, it was wide and knowing. She knew who he was. Her eyes spoke of love, for the person he'd grown up to be, for him, for her son.
He felt a love for this woman, deep in his heart. For however short a time they had known one another, it had its effect, and love bloomed in his heart like tiny seedlings; seeds overwintered in the cold, unfertile soil and just now sprouting with the warmth of her love.
He leaned his forehead against hers, and closed his eyes as she did the same, both seeking a deeper connection to one another, and the support of each other's love. 'I know you' was the unspoken phrase in each of their interactions. But they also both knew they had limited time. This could only go on for so long. For only so long could they cling to ghosts of the past. But at least he now knew he loved her, and that she loved him.
Once upon a December.......
He swallowed thickly, and clung tighter for a moment. She responded in kind. And then, he let her go, disappearing into the green shimmers she had come from. He stood there for a minute, head lowered and eyes closed, wrestling with his emotions. He loved her, and he knew it now. Was this a curse, or a blessing? Wasn't that his life though? he thought somewhat bitterly. Was what came his way a curse, or a blessing? He never could decide. What he did know, was that the seedlings in his heart refused to be uprooted. For so little a time grown, their roots ran deep enough to hurt if he tried to get rid of them.
So for a second, he let himself wish. Wish that Odin had never taken him, wish that he could've grown up here, wish that he could have known what it was like to have these parents he never got to know shower him with their love. Wish that he could have known them well enough to love them back. Wish that he could have had the chance, the chance, to know.
Desperation grew with his aching pain, as he tried to dislodge it. This was a mote point, he couldn't do anything about it. But it hurt. They were all lost to the whispers of the past. He needed a way out. He could not continue to mourn something he could never have.
What would his life have been like if Odin had just left him where he was. Why couldn't he have!? God, he wished–he wished anything! His life could have been far better than the one he'd come to know, bereft of the pain and betrayal he now felt.
But could it truly have been that much better?
And then he remembered. He remembered all the nights he had spent with Frigga, studying magic and hearing her stories. He remembered all the afternoons spent sparring with Thor. He remembered all the lessons and wisdom Odin had taught them about being a king. He remembered all his adventures and happy moments, and even his sad ones, which had never been without the comfort he needed to get him back to the happy ones.
A sense of calm came over him, and a smile spread slowly across his face, genuine and loving. Even though his life hadn't been what he'd expected, he had spent a great deal of it surrounded by the love of a family that had chosen him. And even if he wanted it, the life he wished for was not the life he had lived.
He knew he would always love his biological mother, perhaps in a bittersweet way, for he had never truly gotten to know her, and it would hurt. It eased the pain, though, to know that his first few hours had been in the love of his mother and father's arms, and that he would treasure in place of everything else. So even if he could have a do-over, go back in time and change it all, he wouldn't change a thing about the life he'd had.
And though a small part of his heart still yearned for what could have been, what once was, he knew, he'd never trade his life on Asgard, these past 1000 years, for anything. Not his family, however adoptive, not his brother, nor his mother, surprisingly, not even his father; not his memories, not his magic, not his life.
As he made to leave, he thought to himself that he was quite glad that for once, he had ignored his head and followed his heart's pull to visit this castle of memories from long ago. He smiled sardonically, but there was love in his eyes. Oh, how much he would have missed out on if he had not.