It's a shock -- Frigga does not use her magics casually against her children, reserving them for the most severe transgressions. He knows his mother's powerful, knows that she is not Queen by courtesy but through her own power, but even still the raw force of it behind the simple charm is daunting. It pulls him up; unfortunately, not enough, for even as she finishes her words -- words which hurt, words which cut, words that make him feel that he may have missed something important somewhere, that there was a turn he could have taken and did not -- and the charm begins to dissolve, his rage washes through him again.
Flamed by her anger, by what he sees as the unfair, incomplete half-truths of it, when the charm is extinguished he laughs. "Oh, the rule of Asgard while Odin took to his bed! What a wonderful thing to have been given, Mother. A temporary kingdom, to watch over as child would his land of toys. To stand in until such time as Odin woke to take it back -- true power never transferring from his ancient grasp. I did not believe you stupid, Mother -- but I did not believe you ready to make good on those words and secure the power behind my throne while father slept."
"And yet, if you had -- then how am I yet in the wrong?" He shook his head, eyes burning in anger. "You gave me the rule, you say? Then what I did with it was just! You have me the rule on trial, on loan, and within those few moments that I held the throne I defeated our oldest enemy! It may not have been done in a manner which Thor would find honorable; for I did not leap upon him heated in the fields of ice as Thor would, but instead I slew him in a manner more fitting the creature that I am, more in keeping with a creature of magics and tricks. I lured him to his death, would have engineered the destruction of the all that enemy race encamped outside the light of our halls, and for that I am reviled?"
He will not, can not see the tears in her eyes. If he does he may be lost. So he dismisses them as fact; Frigga does not cry for such a man as he. "A man can not rule without a throne. I was raised to be second-best to Thor; it was only circumstance that had you place me on the throne in his stead. Circumstance and nothing more."
Thor again, always Thor -- the brother who he would, at this moment, cheerfully stab again, just to watch his lying blood run. "Love me as one loves a faithful dog or favored toy, perhaps. As the loyal shadow who kept him safe from harm. But as a brother? As an equal? No -- Thor was not, is not capable of loving anyone as well as that."
He'll be more "dayum" shortly.ladyofthefensJuly 6 2012, 07:59:51 UTC
Which registers first, the sound of the strike echoing back from the walls or the pain of the solid hit across his face? It's no dainty slap, Frigga is far from the type, and her hand is still stinging when she lowers it. "You will not speak of your family in this way," she says, no longer loud but now quiet and steady, dangerously low. Her chin is held high even as the tear finally spills down her cheek.
"I raised you to be a wise, thoughtful man. I did not raise you to slay an entire race of beings! Mercy, Loki, I tried to teach you mercy as well as wisdom, but it seems my teachings were wasted."
"I cannot claim to know the All-father's mind," she continues in the same low, hard voice, "but there was a throne wanting a king from the moment you slew Laufey, a throne to which you had a blood-right. Do you think it so farfetched that Odin may have planned to hand you a kingdom of your own? Would you have accepted it or would you have tossed it back in his face because it was inferior to your brother's? Everything you have become is due to this jealousy. Thor is not your enemy, Loki. You were ever his favorite. He prized you above all others, and you never saw it."
She hasn't flinched or looked away for an instant during the tirade and now she folds her hands in front of her, looking tired for the first time. "And now you will claim my words are lies, you'll refuse to hear them and throw the sharpened barbs back at me. Please do so; you cannot do me more harm with your words than I have done to myself with my guilt."
Flamed by her anger, by what he sees as the unfair, incomplete half-truths of it, when the charm is extinguished he laughs. "Oh, the rule of Asgard while Odin took to his bed! What a wonderful thing to have been given, Mother. A temporary kingdom, to watch over as child would his land of toys. To stand in until such time as Odin woke to take it back -- true power never transferring from his ancient grasp. I did not believe you stupid, Mother -- but I did not believe you ready to make good on those words and secure the power behind my throne while father slept."
"And yet, if you had -- then how am I yet in the wrong?" He shook his head, eyes burning in anger. "You gave me the rule, you say? Then what I did with it was just! You have me the rule on trial, on loan, and within those few moments that I held the throne I defeated our oldest enemy! It may not have been done in a manner which Thor would find honorable; for I did not leap upon him heated in the fields of ice as Thor would, but instead I slew him in a manner more fitting the creature that I am, more in keeping with a creature of magics and tricks. I lured him to his death, would have engineered the destruction of the all that enemy race encamped outside the light of our halls, and for that I am reviled?"
He will not, can not see the tears in her eyes. If he does he may be lost. So he dismisses them as fact; Frigga does not cry for such a man as he. "A man can not rule without a throne. I was raised to be second-best to Thor; it was only circumstance that had you place me on the throne in his stead. Circumstance and nothing more."
Thor again, always Thor -- the brother who he would, at this moment, cheerfully stab again, just to watch his lying blood run. "Love me as one loves a faithful dog or favored toy, perhaps. As the loyal shadow who kept him safe from harm. But as a brother? As an equal? No -- Thor was not, is not capable of loving anyone as well as that."
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"I raised you to be a wise, thoughtful man. I did not raise you to slay an entire race of beings! Mercy, Loki, I tried to teach you mercy as well as wisdom, but it seems my teachings were wasted."
"I cannot claim to know the All-father's mind," she continues in the same low, hard voice, "but there was a throne wanting a king from the moment you slew Laufey, a throne to which you had a blood-right. Do you think it so farfetched that Odin may have planned to hand you a kingdom of your own? Would you have accepted it or would you have tossed it back in his face because it was inferior to your brother's? Everything you have become is due to this jealousy. Thor is not your enemy, Loki. You were ever his favorite. He prized you above all others, and you never saw it."
She hasn't flinched or looked away for an instant during the tirade and now she folds her hands in front of her, looking tired for the first time. "And now you will claim my words are lies, you'll refuse to hear them and throw the sharpened barbs back at me. Please do so; you cannot do me more harm with your words than I have done to myself with my guilt."
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