FIC: What You Will (Thor) - Torn to Tatters (4/8)

[ashinae]

What You Will - Chapter 4: Torn to Tatters
by ashinae and linden_jay

Chapter 1: Unknown Bride | Chapter 2: A Girl and Her Horse | Chapter 3: For the First Time | Chapter 4: Torn to Tatters | Chapter 5: Love Loss Hope Repeat | Chapter 6: Follow the Lady | Chapter 7: Learn to Fly | Chapter 8: Life Less Ordinary



Cesario--Loki, as Cesario--perched on a low wall, eating some grapes. "My lord prince," he said, with a broad smile, by way of greeting.

Thor looked up at him and smiled widely. "Friend Cesario... good day to you," he said. "You look as though you are keeping well."

"I certainly try." Loki bounced down from the wall, stood straight, and offered Thor a few grapes. "You look as though you have had a few restful nights of sleep. Is your lady wife treating you well?"

"As has always been the case since she arrived, better than I deserve," Thor said, taking the grapes from him.

"I'm certain that's not true, my prince," Loki said. "One day there will be songs and sagas of your love story."

"Are you a romantic, Cesario?" Thor teased. "A bard, perhaps? Are you seeking a commission?"

Loki tossed a grape on the air and caught it in his mouth. "A bard? Perhaps not. A romantic? I think perhaps I am. I caught sight of Lady Loki yesterday morning as she had her riding lesson with Lady Sif."

"The lady Sif is an excellent teacher, and my lady Loki is an extremely fast learner," Thor said, sounding proud. "You would already never know that she had never seen a horse before her arrival here."

"Never? Ah, they must not have horses like ours on Jotunheim."

"It seems not," Thor said, eyes sparkling as he looked over at Loki. "I rather shudder to think what kind of steed it would take to support the mass of King Laufey," he said with a laugh. "Something that could eat me for breakfast and still require a second helping, I’m sure."

***

Loki slipped her hand into Thor's as they left for an evening stroll through the gardens. As they paused, she rested her head against his arm.

This was going to work. She knew it would. She closed her eyes and imagined that it would be just like in the books; she felt a heat in her belly and felt colour rise to her cheeks and she looked up at Thor.

She wanted him.

Dinner went perfectly. Sif, the Warriors Three, and several others had joined the royal family for dinner. Thor had been relaxed (without getting too far into the mead). Loki had been charming and radiant and every inch a princess. Everyone had a good time.

"Did you enjoy yourself, my lady?" Thor asked Loki, smiling at her.

"Very much so, my lord," she replied, and her smile grew ever wider. "Your friends are a delight, and the All-Father even smiled! I truly belong here with you."

"I knew I saw him do that--you are my proof that it happened," he told her. "I am glad that you have found a place here. As I told you when you came, you are welcome here."

"I am," she said, in response to both statements. She turned fully to him, put her arms around his waist, and leaned her head on his chest. Loki the Asgardian found that she was a physical creature; she craved touch and contact, and he was doing his best to provide it. She was comfortable, and Thor didn't even seem to mind giving her what she wanted in these situations.

"Good," he murmured. "I want you to feel that this is your home."

"My home, with its endless library, and its gardens, and its grass and water and horses. And you, my beautiful husband. My Thor."

Thor looked shy when she said that, a sheepish smile on his face. "Just how much wine did you allow Fandral to pour you?" he teased, tickling her side.

She gasped and squirmed. "I don't know," she admitted, with a giggle, "my goblet never seemed empty." Fandral had paid her quite a lot of attention tonight, she realised after a moment's thought, but she brushed it aside.

Thor sighed loudly and shook his head, still smiling. "We should get you to bed... you need your rest." He untangled himself and took her hand again. As he led her back toward the palace, she laced their fingers together. She gave his hand a squeeze, and her hand tightened again when they passed a maid who looked longingly at Thor, though fortunately he seemed oblivious.

When they reached their apartments, Loki reached up and pulled the ornament from her hair; it cascaded in waves down her back and she gave her head a little shake. "Oh, that's better."

"I do not know how you do it," Thor admitted, wincing a little. "It makes my head hurt just to watch when your hair comes down after being pinned for so long."

"I do it so that it is not in the way. I can't bear the idea of having it cut shorter," she said. She turned to him with a brilliant smile, then held out her hand to him in silent invitation.

He took her hand, gave it a squeeze, and came closer. "I could brush it, if you'd like," he offered.

A slow, delighted smile crossed her face. "Would you really?" She didn't even let him respond; just leaned up, kissed him soundly, then gathered her skirt and quite literally ran through the apartments to fetch her brush. When she returned to Thor's suite, she wore only a black dressing gown and a smile; Thor had removed the more formal parts of his own attire.

She handed Thor her brush and sat on the edge of the bed. Thor sat behind her to begin brushing her hair. "I used to do this for Sif when we were children," he said. "And, of course, my horses. I think that Sif kicked harder when I pulled a knot."

"That does not surprise me in the least," Loki said with a soft laugh. She closed her eyes. She had decided quickly after her arrival--it seemed so long ago--that she quite liked it when her maids would brush her hair; she loved it now that it was Thor. He started at the bottom and worked his way up, talking softly the whole time--stories of his youth, tales of his parents. Fables of Asgard. Loki closed her eyes with a soft, happy sigh. She relaxed and just let herself get lost in his voice, lost in the feel of the brush working through her hair.

Before long, he was able to brush from root to tip; long, straight strokes of the brush. She could almost be lulled to sleep by this. She tilted her head back with a soft sigh of contentment. And she whispered, "Thor. I'm falling in love with you. I never could have dreamed..." He didn't respond, but he leaned in and kissed her temple, murmured something indistinct, then went back to brushing her hair again.

She reached back, blindly, and ran her fingertips over his cheek. "I hope one day you will feel the same way about me."

Thor set down the brush, wrapped his arms around her, and gave her another kiss on her temple. "I care for you, Loki. Very much. I'm glad you are here, in Asgard. Believe me when I say that."

Could she love enough for both of them? She certainly hoped so. She climbed right onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him, too, and gave him kiss after gentle kiss, trying to gain his interest. She ached for him. Her own hands were no longer enough.

Loki felt the flutter in her belly, the heat that curled inside her, and she pressed ever closer. She needed so badly. And, as she pressed against him, she knew full well what she should be able to feel. Thor was supposed to want her, too. It was supposed to be obvious. And though he kissed her and held her close, his body was not keeping apace with hers. Put simply, he was not arising to the occasion.

Her husband, this man she loved and desired, did not feel the same way she did. She fell still, and she stopped, and finally she drew away from him.

Thor swayed forward when she pulled away, blinking, then opened his eyes and looked for her. "Loki?" he asked, an uneasy expression on his face.

"You can't move past it, can you?" Loki asked, bitterly. "That I was not born like this. You don't desire me because of it. You think that this is all magic, all illusion." She clutched the collar of her dressing gown tightly closed. "All you can think of is blue skin and red eyes--you can't desire me because of what I was at birth!"

Thor stared at her and started shaking his head. "That's not--I don't think that!" he protested. "I never have, not since I met you!"

"But you don't want me." She ducked her head, her hair falling in front of her face. She would not cry, not now. "You have avoided me all this time--you have no desire to be with me. You can parade me around on your arm like some pretty ornament, but that's all!"

"I'm trying--I'm doing the best that I can!" he protested, getting up off the bed. He reached for the blanket at the end of the bed, then stopped. She was sitting on it, and besides, it wasn't as though there was any reaction he needed to hide for modesty's sake. Which was, of course, the point.

"Trying?" she echoed. "Trying? You shouldn't have to try! If you wanted me, if you really wanted to have me as your wife, you would take me--you wouldn't have waited so long! I can be your wife so long as we are not here."

"Here? What's here?" Thor asked, confused again. "Maybe you are accustomed to doing exactly as you're told, but prior to this, I have always been encouraged to question, to find my own path. None of this has been easy, and I am trying, and I don't know why--" He cut himself off, pushed his hair back out of his eyes, and took a breath. "I've told you that it isn't you," he said through gritted teeth. "I cannot make you believe me."

"I was a proper, dutiful child!" Loki shouted. She scrambled off the bed. She would have preferred to have the high ground; to look down at him as he sat on the bed. He was taller, and that was just not fair. "I was my father's heir," she continued in a quieter voice. "I did what was expected of me. I did what I was told because that was what was right. I came here, because it was my duty--" Never mind the fact that she was just to the left of coming to Asgard kicking and screaming. She took a breath. "It is my duty to give myself to you. It is my duty to bear your child."

"I was raised to lead, not to follow, and sometimes that means questioning what is expected of me!" Thor fired back. "You do not need to tell me about duty. I have been raised to it, same as you. I know my responsibilities."

"And so it must be that I am the problem!" Loki's hands balled into fists at her sides. "You do not want me. If you did, you would have taken me long ago." She paused, and narrowed her eyes. "If you cannot, if you will not, I can find a young man who will forget what I am. Who does not care, as you do, that I am Jotunn," she said, her voice taking on a vicious edge that surprised her.

"Enough!" Thor bellowed. "I will not continue to repeat myself only to be told that I am lying--not by anyone, not even by you, Laufeysdottir," he snapped, glaring back at her. For a long moment, they stared at each other, both furious, and there was so much Loki wanted to say that she could barely find a starting point.

She didn't get her chance.

His shoulders slumped, and the fight went out of him. "You deserve better, so much better than me," he murmured. His head snapped up; had he even meant to say that out loud? As Loki stood there, rooted to the spot, Thor backed away, grabbed a cloak, and headed straight for the door, almost in a run. He was gone in moments.

***

It was some time after Thor's departure before Loki could move. She grabbed her brush and went back to her own suite through the door adjoining their apartments. She was suddenly very calm.

She locked the door behind her, then barricaded it with the chest of drawers that held her wide assortment of undergarments, just for good measure. She put on soft breeches and a tunic and tied her hair in a knot at the nape of her neck. She forgot shoes. The floor of the palace was very cold under her feet, but she barely noticed. She might notice later.

She knocked politely on Frigga and Odin's door. As soon as Loki saw Frigga, roused from sleep but still radiant, Loki burst into tears. She had not wept since that first night's rejection.

She hated herself for it.

Frigga didn't say a word. She just pulled Loki gently in for a hug, kissed her hair, then eased away just enough to lead Loki through the door into her own suite, closing the door behind her. "There--just us now," she said, opening her arms again. "Come here, child."

"I hate him!" Loki cried, though it wasn't the truth at all, and she went to Frigga immediately to let herself be wrapped up in her arms. She hid her face against Frigga's shoulder and wept. Frigga held her close, rubbed her back, and let Loki cry.

"Everything was going so well," Loki explained between fits of crying, "but then we're alone--really alone--and--and--he must find me so horrible because I'm not really Asgardian." She hated herself, far more than Thor, for these feelings. They were useless feelings.

Frigga stroked her hair and murmured softly to her, encouraging Loki to keep talking. "Why do you think that, my daughter?" she asked.

"He... he won't... has never..." Loki floundered. "We have not yet fulfilled our marriage."

"Ah... I see," Frigga murmured, after a pause.

Loki sighed. "He must find me too repulsive." She pulled back to wipe at her face.

"I doubt that very much, my dear," Frigga said, producing a handkerchief and wiping Loki's eyes. "You are lovely."

"I had thought that I would be the one who did not want to," Loki said, utterly miserable. "But it's the other way around and that seems so wrong."

"I will admit, I do not know what is wrong," Frigga said, tilting Loki's face up so she could look at her. "But we will find out what is wrong. He cares for you--that much I know. Anyone with eyes can see that."

"I feel as though I have been played for a fool," Loki said. "I can't see how he could care for me."

Frigga kissed Loki's forehead, like she was blessing her. "Come--sleep here," she offered, guiding Loki toward the bed. "You've had a trying evening, and you need your rest. We will find out what is troubling your husband... we will fix this."

All Loki could do was nod and climb onto the bed. She was exhausted; perhaps it was from the tears. Frigga pulled the covers up and sat beside her, stroking Loki's forehead. "Close your eyes, my daughter. Sleep. Sleep, and remember that we love you as our own."

***

Odin was alone at the table. He didn't look up or turn. He said, "Come sit down. Now."

Thor knew--knew--that he should have chosen another time to eat. Or another place. Another world, perhaps. He hesitated for just a moment, then came and sat down.

"Did you sleep well, my son?" Odin's tone was icy.

Thor hadn't slept at all. "No, Father."

"I have it on good authority that your wife cried herself to sleep."

Thor flinched, hard.

Loki wasn't the only one who shed tears that night... not that Thor was going to admit that. She was also the only one whose tears mattered. This was Thor’s doing... he had no one to blame but himself. Any tears he shed were of no consequence, not compared to Loki’s.

"Mother?" he asked, wondering if Loki had gone to them. It made sense. Why else would Odin have approached him this way?

"Yes. She showed up in our rooms last night, distraught. She thinks you want nothing to do with her."

Thor focused on his hands. "I have told her that is not the case."

"So she said. Then what other reason do you have for this rebellion, Thor?"

"It is not a rebellion," Thor said, his voice quiet and tired. "I have nothing to say, All-Father."

There was no excuse he could give, nothing he could say. He didn't understand, didn't know why this was happening. He could not explain to his father what he did not know himself.

Odin watched him for a long, long moment, then shook his head. "We will make this work," he said. "We have to."

"Yes, All-Father," Thor said, sounding neutral... almost numb. "May I go, my lord?"

"No." Odin stood. He looked down at Thor and put his hand on his shoulder. "No, I will leave. I want you to eat, my son. And do not forget that your mother and I still love you, and always will. If you need us, you know where to find us. Both you and Loki have something in common: you are stubborn and you are proud. She came to us for help, yes, but she will not hide behind your mother's skirts."

Thor's throat felt impossibly tight. His father's kindness was almost harder to deal with than his father's rage would have been. If Thor knew what help to ask for, he would do it, but he didn't. All he knew was that something was wrong. That he was wrong.

"Thank you, Father," he said, very softly.

***

Loki skipped supper.

She knew she would pay for it later, but she'd spent all day feeling sorry for herself. She cancelled her riding lesson with Sif and returned to her room, losing herself in romance fiction--for no other reason that she could discern than to clearly make herself feel even worse.

Married now for nearly two months, and this was what it had all come down to. They didn't even know what to do with each other, and her frustration had spilled over. She knew she needed to be more careful with him. She knew it, as well as she now knew every curve of her female body, and the way a green dress brought out the colour of her eyes, and the most flattering ways for her maids to do her hair. She knew to be more careful with Thor, in all the ways she didn't truly know her husband.

She waited until dinner was well over before she sneaked into the kitchen, stole a bit of meat and a bit of bread, and went back to her rooms to change into a pair of breeches, tall boots, and a tunic--and her male form.

He settled a cloak around his shoulders and slipped out into the hallway, then through a side door and into the night. The last person he expected to see was his husband, especially when he nearly walked right into him.

From the way Thor started, Loki wasn't the only one who hadn't been looking where he was going. Thor reached out his hand to steady Loki and keep them from bumping into each other, smiling even though there was something tired, something sad in his expression. "My apologies, Cesario... I nearly walked right over you."

"My prince," said Loki. He had to take a moment to compose himself; and then he smiled. "You seemed distracted. There was no harm caused."

"It is..." Thor started to speak and then paused, frowning slightly. He looked back at Cesario and smiled, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It is nothing for you to worry about. I am glad that you are all right."

"Why wouldn't I be, my prince? I have been... kept busy. Rowan demands much of my attention, and there are other duties for me on the stable grounds." Thor's hand was very big, and very warm, and Loki longed for it to touch him again.

"I meant that I did not knock you over," Thor said. "I don't imagine that Rowan would be very pleased with me if I injured one of her favourite people."

"I suspect she might have things to say on the matter, were she able to speak." Loki smiled up at Thor. "We are both out late for a walk. I, ah..." He raised his hand, where he held his bundle of food in a napkin. "I brought my supper."

"I thought the night air might do me some good," Thor said. "And you, friend Cesario? Should I leave you to your thoughts, and your supper?" he asked.

"In truth I would welcome the company. I have had... ah, never mind my woes. If you would not be offended if I eat in front of you, I would like very much to share the night air with a... friend." If nothing else, "Cesario" could count Thor amongst his friends, even if Loki had never been certain about that.

Thor smiled as Loki called him 'friend', eyes crinkling slightly. "I would not be offended in the slightest--please," he said, gesturing toward Loki's food. "Did you have a place in mind?" he asked.

"There is a spot I have grown to enjoy," said Loki. "But I have not been there at night. It is on the far side of the stables--up the rise, with the two trees? It should offer us a lovely view of the night sky."

"I know the place well," Thor said, flashing another smile before he rested his hand on Loki's shoulder, guiding him in that direction. "I would imagine that at night, after a day of work in the stables, you are often too tired for stargazing."

"You could say that," Loki murmured. Thor's touch--oh, Thor's touch. It was perfect.

Thor kept his hand where it was, looking very relaxed as they walked. "You mentioned--or did not mention--that you were troubled," he said. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" he asked.

Loki looked up at him, and considered the question, and an appropriate response. "You called me a romantic some time ago, my prince," he said, after a pause. "I suppose perhaps you are right, and my heart is sick with longing."

"Your feelings are not returned?" Thor asked carefully, making a guess.

"Sadly, no. That's become clear to me. And it hurts."

"I am sorry," Thor said, his voice very quiet. They crested the hill and Loki sank down to the ground. As Thor sat beside him, Loki opened the napkin and picked at his food. A silence had fallen between them, but Loki didn't feel uncomfortable--just sad. Another moment later, he heard Thor take a deep breath.

"Perhaps the one you care for is not worth your devotion," said Thor.

"I don't think I could ever meet someone more worthy," Loki murmured.

Thor smiled, although his eyes were sad. "That is because you see with the eyes of a lover... a romantic."

"Perhaps," Loki said, "perhaps not." He might never know what it was like to be a lover, and that made him feel worse. He sighed and wrapped up his food again.

Thor watched Loki pack up his food. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I am not the best company for you tonight. I didn't mean to make things worse," he apologised.

"No--no, my prince, please." Loki gave Thor a sad little smile. "I don't wish to be alone."

"Is there nothing I can do?" Thor asked, settling again.

Loki settled on his back with his head cradled on his arms. It was another long moment before he replied, "Just... stay. Please, my prince. Be my friend tonight."

"Of course. I will stay," Thor agreed, voice soft. He stretched out beside Loki, looking up at the sky. "It is beautiful."

"We live in a beautiful world," Loki murmured. "I remember looking up at the sky when I was a boy, and thinking to myself that one day--one day I would see all those stars, name them, explore them. Make my indelible mark on the universe. I had such dreams."

"A romantic and an explorer," Thor said, smiling just a little. "Perhaps they go together."

A romantic--an explorer--perhaps. Young Loki, Heir of Laufey, had wanted to conquer. To rule. And he couldn't even conquer the man he had been brought here to marry. He gave a soft sigh, and then pointed. "That cluster of stars there," he said. "I think those are my favourites. If I follow them, just right, I can imagine that they form the image of a great wolf."

"Where?" Thor asked, reaching for Loki's hand with his own, waiting for Loki to guide him. "There?"

Loki's breath caught in his throat at the touch, but his pause, his sudden moment of frozen stillness, ebbed away quickly. He had to be careful not to curl his own slender fingers around Thor's larger ones and instead just let Thor hold on as he led their arms and hands. "Here," he said, tracing the pattern in the air. "This is the head, and here is its body, its legs, its tail. Do you see, my prince?"

"I see... of course," Thor said, nodding and keeping his hand on Cesario's for another moment or two before he let it fall. "I never excelled in my studies of the stars."

"It's simply what I see," said Loki, with a smile. "You need not have studied much--all you need is imagination."

"I'm not sure that's my greatest strength either... imagination," Thor said, turning his head toward Cesario and giving him a wry smile. "Perhaps you have to be a romantic to have imagination too."

Loki turned his own head to look at Thor. "You should let your princess help you learn."

A sad expression flickered in Thor's eyes. "She is by far the cleverer of us," he said. "She reads constantly. I'm sure her imagination far exceeds my own."

"Do you not think she would be happy to help you?" Loki asked, very softly.

"I think that I have already taxed my lady's patience enough for one lifetime," Thor said, just as quietly. He turned his head, looking up at the stars again.

"I have come to learn that the battles of the heart are harder won than those we fight with swords--or hammers." Loki took a moment to study Thor's profile, though it was very dark out now, then turned his own gaze to the stars again. "But perhaps they are worth it in the end."

Thor was quiet for a long time before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice was almost inaudible. "I wish you fortune, friend Cesario. It is hard to see one so deserving so unhappy in love."

Loki closed his eyes. It felt as though a hand had just closed over his heart and squeezed, hard. "Thank you, my good prince," he said, his voice rough. "I wish the same for you."

This time, Thor said nothing, but after a few long moments of silence, he reached over and placed his hand on top of Cesario's, squeezing once, then leaving it there.

Loki closed his eyes against a sudden sting. He hesitated a moment, until he could turn his hand over and squeeze Thor's in return. He didn't dare try to entwine their fingers; that was too intimate. Too familiar. But oh, he ached. He ached and longed so much to repair things with Thor, to make it all work out, that he felt hollow inside.

He had to fix this, one way or another.

***

| Chapter 5: Love Loss Hope Repeat |