It's Who We Are, Chapter 1
Oh wow, I didn't realize it's been a year since I've posted anything. Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised since I've been working on this story for a year. The first three dragged for almost that entire time...and then I finished it entirely in the weekend. No wonder my hands hurt.
Series: Thor (Movie), The Avengers (Movie), Thor 2 (Movie), Merlin (Series)
Characters: Thor, Loki, Arthur, Merlin
Couple: Thor/Loki, Arthur/Merlin
Title: It's Who We Are
Word Count: 3,722
Status: Complete
Rating: R/Mature
Disclaimer: I have no claim whatsoever on any the marvel franchises at all, I'm just borrowing them for my story that will bring me no money whatsoever. I shall be forever broke. Nor do I have any claim on the Merlin franchise either.
Summary: Near death, Loki wishes himself away to find a quiet place to die, but fate and meddlesome young men decide that it isn't his time to go just yet. He finds himself in a young world that he can start over and he would do just that, if his brother would just leave him alone for five minutes.
He swam in and out of consciousness, flashes of pain interspersing with blessed darkness. Honestly, Loki wasn’t sure he wanted to live. Frigga was dead and it was his fault. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t known that she would be there, if he hadn’t said anything, she would still be alive. He could blame Jane Foster, which he rightly did because she shouldn’t have been there to start with, but it was still mostly his fault. He’d had an idea of what was going to happen when he came up behind and stabbed Algrim and he could have gotten out of the way, but for what purpose? All he wanted to do was die in peace and if everyone thought he was already dead, then they wouldn’t be looking for him to put him in a cell. As soon as he was sure that Thor had been gone, he’d gathered what magic he still had control of and teleported…somewhere.
Loki realized that something wasn’t right when the flashes of pain weren’t as often and the darkness wasn’t so complete. His body was repairing itself…with the help of someone else. He frowned, or tried to, and struggled for the first time against the unconsciousness that had gripped him immediately after his teleportation. It was surprisingly hard and was this something similar to the Odin sleep? It felt like he was struggling in vain, not in control of his body. Such a feeling brought back memories of the Tesseract. He was not as blasé about what had happened as he had led Thor to believe and he had regretted putting his hands on it the moment he had touched it.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found himself clawing his way toward consciousness. He twitched his fingers and gathered the most instinctive magic he knew that wouldn’t take that much effort to use: ice. Being a Jotun occasionally came in handy, giving him something to fall back on when everything else was stripped away.
“No, don’t do that, you’re safe! We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. We’re helping!”
The voice was young, almost painfully young, and pleading. So earnest and honest, something he hadn’t felt or heard for thousands of years. Something about it felt so familiar, so like himself an achingly long time ago, that he felt his magic ease away. He could sense no deception from that voice, just an urge to help. Loki would not let go of what little bit of his sense he now managed to control, listening to the conversation above him.
“I’ve never seen someone heal so quickly before. Just yesterday he was hemorrhaging blood and now there’s almost none at all.”
That voice was older, carrying the weight of years, and a bit frail, but the knowledge and surprising kindness in it reminded him of Frigga. Loki had not cried in years and he would not start now…but he felt her loss so keenly that it was as if his heart had been ripped out. Though he knew he deserved some of Thor’s ire, he hadn’t expected the tired words when his brother had broken him out. There was no anger or hope or even any emotion that had been there in their previous encounters and something about that was worse than anything. Only when Thor had held him as he thought he was dying, the desperate way those hands touched him, told him that no matter what Thor was trying to do, he had still cared, at least a little. Was it for Loki himself or because he didn’t want to lose another member of his family?
“Gaius, we can’t let Arthur know. If he finds out that this man is a sorcerer-”
“Arthur is not like his father, Merlin, and you know that better than anyone. He has proven a good king so far.”
“I’ll play with my own life by telling him, but not someone else’s.”
“Then you’re lucky you found him at night and no one saw us bringing him back.” Something cool was pressed to his forehead, something that felt like wet cloth.
“Who… What is he? I’ve never seen someone with blue skin before.”
Blue skin? Damn. What had happened to the Allfather’s curse?
“I don’t know, but it’ll be a lot easier for him now that his skin is back to normal.”
Well at least it was still there. Perhaps he had been so severely injured that he had reverted on so base a level that the curse had been unable to control. Gathering everything he had, Loki forced his eyes open. It felt like he was moving through sludge, frustratingly slowly, and everything was hazy at first. He tried to blink, but his eyes fell closed and he had to force them open again.
“Hey, I think he’s waking up.”
A face swam in his vision, then another, and this time he could actually blink, albeit slowly. As the voices had led him to suspect, there was a very young man and an old one. “I’m Merlin. How are you feeling?”
He looked at the young man with short black hair and startling blue eyes that reminded him of Thor’s. Loki heaved in a breath, a tad annoyed that they thought he might die even though that was his full intention not too long ago. There was a thump somewhere else and a strident voice calling, “Merlin! You better not be at the tavern again!”
“Arthur!” Merlin said in a panic, looking at the old man. “We can’t let him in here. Distract him with something! Don’t tell him I’m at the tavern!”
The old man rolled his eyes and quickly left the room, closing the door behind him. The walls were thin, though, and Loki could hear their conversation clearly.
“Gaius, where’s Merlin? He was missing all day yesterday. He better not be sleeping off a hangover from the tavern.”
Despite the annoyance, Loki could hear the concern and he glanced at the one hovering near him. There was a frown on his face.
“I’m afraid he’s not available, My Lord. I’ve been keeping him fairly busy lately. He was gathering herbs for me all day and night yesterday and now he’s sleeping. I’ll send him right to you when he wakes up.”
There was silence for a moment and then the sound of heavy booted feet on the floor. “Fine, but I expect him to rise by dinner time.”
“I will, but surely you would prefer to spend some time alone at dinner solely with Gwen?”
“Gwen is… We’ve…” The hesitation was painfully clear. “We’ve had an argument and she’s not speaking to me.”
Merlin moved then, to the door, and clenched his hands into fists, as if it was taking all he had not to go out and reassure the man that was out there. Loki watched silently, taking in cues that he didn’t think the other man was even aware he was giving off. There was something…more…there.
“I’m sure it will all work itself out. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Just get Merlin moving when the lazy sod gets up.” A door was almost slammed and quickly the older man returned.
“What did he do to Gwen now?”
Though he really tried to stay awake, Loki found himself finally drifting back off during their conversation.
When Loki woke next, it was a lot easier. He didn’t feel like it was a struggle anymore. He was alone in a small room, likely the same room as before, with the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever had to sleep on. Even the floor would be better than this bed. He wore nothing except his pants and there were bandages that were covering a good portion of his chest where his wound was. He winced as he sat up and accelerated healing or not, the wound wasn’t completely healed.
Loki braced his hand on a bedside table and pushed himself to his feet, feeling his stomach growl with the need for food. He stumbled a little toward the door, but didn’t fall. Where was he? Bracing himself for whatever he would find, he threw open the door.
There were the two from the last time he’d woken up at a table, a mortar and pestle in Merlin’s hands and a few vials in… He dredged up the name from his subconscious: Gaius? Making sure he felt steady, he slowly went down the short steps. A creak caught the two’s notice and Merlin jumped to his feet.
“You’re awake! If it hadn’t been for you breathing, I would have sworn you were dead!” Loki leaned back in surprise as suddenly the boy was rushing over, reaching for him. “You’re going to fall-”
“I’m fine,” he spat, his throat scratchy. He needed a drink more than he needed food, apparently.
“Fine? You slept for two weeks! We couldn’t wake you up to eat or drink! I still don’t know how you’re alive!”
Two weeks? The injury must have been more severe than he had imagined…or maybe he really hadn’t wanted to live and that thought from his mind had slowed his body’s healing.
“Merlin, let him be for a minute to get his bearings.”
“Yes, Merlin, do back off before I make you.”
Merlin blinked at and backed up. Loki didn’t honestly intend to have so much hostility in his tone, but he was disoriented and still feeling a lot of pain that wasn’t physical. For the first time in centuries, he felt the urge to run to Thor, to feel his brother hug him protectively and comfortingly like he had when they were children. He hadn’t felt like this for a long time…
“Water,” he rasped and Merlin quickly turned to a clay pitcher and poured a cup, holding it out tentatively. Loki took it, forcing himself to take it in slowly so he didn’t heave it back up. It was heavenly, the cool liquid soothingly flowing down his dry throat.
He could almost see Merlin vibrating with questions, something about that making him want to reminisce with Thor. He had been that young and excitable about something new once. The prospect of knowledge, particularly of an arcane bent, had been the greatest of his desires. So foolish, so naïve…and yet they were the happiest times of Loki’s life.
“Where am I?”
“Camelot. Gaius is the court physician and we’ve been hiding you in my room. You were blue and that’s…not normal here. It would seem like magic, so we were afraid if other people saw you… There’s laws against magic-”
“It wasn’t magic,” he interrupted, slowly putting one foot in front of the other to reach an empty stool and sit down. Silently Gaius put a plate of food in front of him. He looked at the bread and fruit in distaste, but it was something to eat.
“What was it then?”
“I’m Jotun. That’s how I should look.”
“What’s a Jotun?” Gaius asked at the same time as Merlin said, “Then why do you look like this now?”
Of course he had to land in a world where Asgard and the other realms of Ysggradil hadn’t touched. “Jotun is a Frost Giant. I was born small and useless, left to die, when I was found by the Jotuns’ mortal enemy. He cast a spell on me to make me appear like him, like an Asgardian. His curse is very strong. Only when another Jotun touches me or I’m apparently near death does my ‘heritage’ surface.”
Before they could ask any further questions, the door was thrown open. “Merlin, I told you to clean out the stables!”
The man that paused in the doorway almost made him blanch. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a warrior obviously, and he didn’t want so many reminders of his younger days! He glanced between the three, his annoyance disappearing as he asked, “What’s going on?”
Gaius and Merlin exchanged glances before Gaius answered, “Merlin found him in an alleyway, stabbed, and we brought him here last night, managing to save his life.”
There was a bit of skepticism in the man’s brow, but he nodded slowly. “Who are you? How did you get stabbed?”
“Why do you want to know?” was his first reply, earning him a sharp look from the older man.
“I’m the king of Camelot. If there are criminals out there that assault those that live here, I need to have the knights put a stop to it.”
Loki looked at Merlin, who was doing an impressively poor job at hiding his anxiety over the situation. Clearly he wasn’t supposed to tell the truth to this man, which he didn’t see why he shouldn’t. They couldn’t kill him; even injured, Loki was well aware of his abilities and they wouldn’t hold a candle to him. “My name is Loki,” he said and went back to eating slowly.
The king waited and prompted, “And how did you get stabbed?”
“I was avenging the death of my mother,” Loki told him truthfully. “I won.”
The mention of his mother’s death seemed to pause them and the questions stopped, which he was grateful for. He wasn’t in the mood for explanations anymore. He didn’t know what he was planning on doing now that Asgard and everyone thought he was dead and he wasn’t sure he cared.
“While I appreciate the reason why you did it, you should have left it to the knights.”
He couldn’t help it. Loki laughed at his words. These people were so young and naïve, assuming they could handle everything, when they were truly meddling in the affairs of gods. “Your knights would be useless,” he told him. “They would be slaughtered before the Svartalfar!” Just thinking about the dark elves caused his teeth to bare and he found himself standing up and pacing. “If they could get into Asgard undetected by even Heimdall’s eyes, you would have stood no chance. Their invasion would have been successful within minutes of coming to a world like this!”
“…Gaius, what’s he talking about?”
The older man paused before stumbling out with, “Perhaps some of the medicines have caused him to be confused-”
“I am not confused!” he shouted, whirling around and regretting it as he grew a bit dizzy, taking the other three aback. “You are in the presence of someone far beyond your comprehension! You live in a world without any inkling of the others that surround you! To be so ignorant, so naïve, is foolish!” The fight eased out of him and abruptly sat on the floor to keep the room from spinning. “I wish I could be so foolish as you.”
Gaius was next to him as soon as he’d sat down and even though Loki tried to bat him off, he would not be dissuaded. The young blonde man was watching him carefully before he said, “Merlin, what’s really going on?”
“Like Gaius said-”
“Tell him the truth or I will,” Loki threatened quietly. “I will not live in a lie constructed by others.”
Merlin sighed heavily. “He’s not…from here. From what he’s said, he’s from another world. He has magic, which was why I didn’t want to tell you, Arthur.”
Arthur was staring right at him, and Loki fearlessly met his gaze. “What are you doing here then, if you’re from some other mythical ‘world’ of yours?”
“As I told you: I was avenging the death of my mother. In my near death, I teleported somewhere safe and this happened to be it.” He leaned back against the nearby wall, feeling weight drag on his eyelids now that he’d had a drink and some food.
“What do you intend on doing here?”
“Nothing of any consequence, except teach Merlin to control his magic. He doesn’t feel it, but it’s like a hammer to those that were born with magic. You could feel it from nine realms away and with no control, it’s asking for trouble.”
Perhaps it was cruel of him to reveal a secret that Merlin was deliberately hiding, but Loki was well aware of what it felt like to hide something so important and it would only make the man as bitter and disillusioned as Loki himself was. No, he had learned a lesson from his life: to hide something that made you who you were would only cause unrest. Frigga had done what she could for him, but the warriors of Asgard had always looked down on him for his magic and he had hidden it, avoided using it, when it made him feel whole. That would not happen to Merlin.
His eyes slid closed without his consent and he missed the resulting explosive argument his words had caused.
He healed quickly after that and after spending another three days of healing sleep, Loki woke rested and uninjured. He was once again alone in the room, but his clothes were nearby and this time he pulled them on completely before leaving. Merlin was sitting at the table, Gaius nowhere to be seen. The young man looked up, glared at him, and went back to staring at the table.
“I did nothing but tell the truth, so you have no need to look at me like that.”
“You ruined everything! I wasn’t telling Arthur for a reason! Camelot has a law that sorcery is punishable by death!”
“And if you truly believed that your ‘Arthur’ would kill you then you are blind as well as unobservant.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s quite obvious he’s attached to you. I’m familiar with those that are set in their ways, prejudiced against magic and nothing you will ever say will change their beliefs; Arthur is not one of those people. He can be molded, he can be made see and learn the truth. Those that I grew up with never will.”
Really, Merlin was just too simple. The boy’s shoulders relaxed quickly as a natural curiosity replaced his anger. “If you’re right, then what am I still doing here? Why did he forbid me from leaving?”
“How am I supposed to know?” he said with a glare. “What makes you think I’m at all interested?” Spotting a bowl of fruit, he grabbed a few grapes and popped them in his mouth as he frowned at the hole in his shirt left behind from the blade.
“Would at least tell me why you did it?”
Loki played with a grape between two fingers, staring at it and debating whether or not he should answer. He felt a surprising amount of empathy for this young man, boy really to him, and it was so hard not to see himself as he used to be. If he’d had the power to go back and change things, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Yet as he did not have such magic, he would have to settle for stopping the events from repeating somewhere else.
“So you don’t end up like me,” he settled on at last and flicked the grape at Merlin’s head. “We must teach you to control your magic. You are more powerful than you realize, and without control, you’ll be a beacon to the realms. The last thing you want is to draw the attention of Thanos and the Chitauri, just to name an example.”
“No one’s teaching Merlin anything.”
He looked over to the door and wasn’t really surprised to the see the king there, glaring at him fiercely. His protectiveness had clearly been riled and if he wasn’t such a spitting image of Thor at such a young age... So fierce and righteous, gleaming as brightly as the sun. So different they were from he and Merlin who seemed to thrive on the night and hidden forces. They needed to touch, to affect with their hands, and their presence; such wasn’t necessary for mages like themselves.
“That is his choice. You cannot order me, I am not your vassal. Or perhaps you mean to say that I will not be teaching Merlin anything, except in your presence? Surely this great king of this great city of Camelot is not afraid of magic?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “There are very good reasons to fear magic.”
“There are very good reasons to be cautious of magic, like there are good reasons to be cautious of swords. It is something that can be used to cause harm, but also for other purposes. It is, by far, more versatile and useful than mere swordplay. However, if understanding magic is too much for you, then it is nothing to be ashamed of. I have met many that have lacked the capacity of mind to grasp even the simplest concepts of theory, much less magic itself.”
It was almost too easy to manipulate Arthur. He could see the knowledge that he was being manipulated in those eyes, but he had stoked the man’s pride and he would not back down. “Outside of the city. I will not risk the lives of my people by being too trusting.”
“Better you than them?”
“Yes.”
Loki had heard a similar sentiment from Thor on the one and only visit he’d received from his brother once he’d been locked up. “And what of your decree against magic?”
“The law has not been repealed, and will not be, until it is proven to my satisfaction that magic is not purely evil.”
He almost didn’t know what to say to that. What backwards man had taught this young king to hate magic so much? A fierce desire to show Arthur that magic was as good or bad as its user could make it welled up; he would not let this world go on a path similar to Asgard that believed that magic was beneath, something to be used and not considered as worthy as other means. He had a chance to stop it, and he would, in its tracks. He had nothing else to do, after all.
Series: Thor (Movie), The Avengers (Movie), Thor 2 (Movie), Merlin (Series)
Characters: Thor, Loki, Arthur, Merlin
Couple: Thor/Loki, Arthur/Merlin
Title: It's Who We Are
Word Count: 3,722
Status: Complete
Rating: R/Mature
Disclaimer: I have no claim whatsoever on any the marvel franchises at all, I'm just borrowing them for my story that will bring me no money whatsoever. I shall be forever broke. Nor do I have any claim on the Merlin franchise either.
Summary: Near death, Loki wishes himself away to find a quiet place to die, but fate and meddlesome young men decide that it isn't his time to go just yet. He finds himself in a young world that he can start over and he would do just that, if his brother would just leave him alone for five minutes.
He swam in and out of consciousness, flashes of pain interspersing with blessed darkness. Honestly, Loki wasn’t sure he wanted to live. Frigga was dead and it was his fault. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t known that she would be there, if he hadn’t said anything, she would still be alive. He could blame Jane Foster, which he rightly did because she shouldn’t have been there to start with, but it was still mostly his fault. He’d had an idea of what was going to happen when he came up behind and stabbed Algrim and he could have gotten out of the way, but for what purpose? All he wanted to do was die in peace and if everyone thought he was already dead, then they wouldn’t be looking for him to put him in a cell. As soon as he was sure that Thor had been gone, he’d gathered what magic he still had control of and teleported…somewhere.
Loki realized that something wasn’t right when the flashes of pain weren’t as often and the darkness wasn’t so complete. His body was repairing itself…with the help of someone else. He frowned, or tried to, and struggled for the first time against the unconsciousness that had gripped him immediately after his teleportation. It was surprisingly hard and was this something similar to the Odin sleep? It felt like he was struggling in vain, not in control of his body. Such a feeling brought back memories of the Tesseract. He was not as blasé about what had happened as he had led Thor to believe and he had regretted putting his hands on it the moment he had touched it.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found himself clawing his way toward consciousness. He twitched his fingers and gathered the most instinctive magic he knew that wouldn’t take that much effort to use: ice. Being a Jotun occasionally came in handy, giving him something to fall back on when everything else was stripped away.
“No, don’t do that, you’re safe! We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. We’re helping!”
The voice was young, almost painfully young, and pleading. So earnest and honest, something he hadn’t felt or heard for thousands of years. Something about it felt so familiar, so like himself an achingly long time ago, that he felt his magic ease away. He could sense no deception from that voice, just an urge to help. Loki would not let go of what little bit of his sense he now managed to control, listening to the conversation above him.
“I’ve never seen someone heal so quickly before. Just yesterday he was hemorrhaging blood and now there’s almost none at all.”
That voice was older, carrying the weight of years, and a bit frail, but the knowledge and surprising kindness in it reminded him of Frigga. Loki had not cried in years and he would not start now…but he felt her loss so keenly that it was as if his heart had been ripped out. Though he knew he deserved some of Thor’s ire, he hadn’t expected the tired words when his brother had broken him out. There was no anger or hope or even any emotion that had been there in their previous encounters and something about that was worse than anything. Only when Thor had held him as he thought he was dying, the desperate way those hands touched him, told him that no matter what Thor was trying to do, he had still cared, at least a little. Was it for Loki himself or because he didn’t want to lose another member of his family?
“Gaius, we can’t let Arthur know. If he finds out that this man is a sorcerer-”
“Arthur is not like his father, Merlin, and you know that better than anyone. He has proven a good king so far.”
“I’ll play with my own life by telling him, but not someone else’s.”
“Then you’re lucky you found him at night and no one saw us bringing him back.” Something cool was pressed to his forehead, something that felt like wet cloth.
“Who… What is he? I’ve never seen someone with blue skin before.”
Blue skin? Damn. What had happened to the Allfather’s curse?
“I don’t know, but it’ll be a lot easier for him now that his skin is back to normal.”
Well at least it was still there. Perhaps he had been so severely injured that he had reverted on so base a level that the curse had been unable to control. Gathering everything he had, Loki forced his eyes open. It felt like he was moving through sludge, frustratingly slowly, and everything was hazy at first. He tried to blink, but his eyes fell closed and he had to force them open again.
“Hey, I think he’s waking up.”
A face swam in his vision, then another, and this time he could actually blink, albeit slowly. As the voices had led him to suspect, there was a very young man and an old one. “I’m Merlin. How are you feeling?”
He looked at the young man with short black hair and startling blue eyes that reminded him of Thor’s. Loki heaved in a breath, a tad annoyed that they thought he might die even though that was his full intention not too long ago. There was a thump somewhere else and a strident voice calling, “Merlin! You better not be at the tavern again!”
“Arthur!” Merlin said in a panic, looking at the old man. “We can’t let him in here. Distract him with something! Don’t tell him I’m at the tavern!”
The old man rolled his eyes and quickly left the room, closing the door behind him. The walls were thin, though, and Loki could hear their conversation clearly.
“Gaius, where’s Merlin? He was missing all day yesterday. He better not be sleeping off a hangover from the tavern.”
Despite the annoyance, Loki could hear the concern and he glanced at the one hovering near him. There was a frown on his face.
“I’m afraid he’s not available, My Lord. I’ve been keeping him fairly busy lately. He was gathering herbs for me all day and night yesterday and now he’s sleeping. I’ll send him right to you when he wakes up.”
There was silence for a moment and then the sound of heavy booted feet on the floor. “Fine, but I expect him to rise by dinner time.”
“I will, but surely you would prefer to spend some time alone at dinner solely with Gwen?”
“Gwen is… We’ve…” The hesitation was painfully clear. “We’ve had an argument and she’s not speaking to me.”
Merlin moved then, to the door, and clenched his hands into fists, as if it was taking all he had not to go out and reassure the man that was out there. Loki watched silently, taking in cues that he didn’t think the other man was even aware he was giving off. There was something…more…there.
“I’m sure it will all work itself out. I wouldn’t worry.”
“Just get Merlin moving when the lazy sod gets up.” A door was almost slammed and quickly the older man returned.
“What did he do to Gwen now?”
Though he really tried to stay awake, Loki found himself finally drifting back off during their conversation.
When Loki woke next, it was a lot easier. He didn’t feel like it was a struggle anymore. He was alone in a small room, likely the same room as before, with the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever had to sleep on. Even the floor would be better than this bed. He wore nothing except his pants and there were bandages that were covering a good portion of his chest where his wound was. He winced as he sat up and accelerated healing or not, the wound wasn’t completely healed.
Loki braced his hand on a bedside table and pushed himself to his feet, feeling his stomach growl with the need for food. He stumbled a little toward the door, but didn’t fall. Where was he? Bracing himself for whatever he would find, he threw open the door.
There were the two from the last time he’d woken up at a table, a mortar and pestle in Merlin’s hands and a few vials in… He dredged up the name from his subconscious: Gaius? Making sure he felt steady, he slowly went down the short steps. A creak caught the two’s notice and Merlin jumped to his feet.
“You’re awake! If it hadn’t been for you breathing, I would have sworn you were dead!” Loki leaned back in surprise as suddenly the boy was rushing over, reaching for him. “You’re going to fall-”
“I’m fine,” he spat, his throat scratchy. He needed a drink more than he needed food, apparently.
“Fine? You slept for two weeks! We couldn’t wake you up to eat or drink! I still don’t know how you’re alive!”
Two weeks? The injury must have been more severe than he had imagined…or maybe he really hadn’t wanted to live and that thought from his mind had slowed his body’s healing.
“Merlin, let him be for a minute to get his bearings.”
“Yes, Merlin, do back off before I make you.”
Merlin blinked at and backed up. Loki didn’t honestly intend to have so much hostility in his tone, but he was disoriented and still feeling a lot of pain that wasn’t physical. For the first time in centuries, he felt the urge to run to Thor, to feel his brother hug him protectively and comfortingly like he had when they were children. He hadn’t felt like this for a long time…
“Water,” he rasped and Merlin quickly turned to a clay pitcher and poured a cup, holding it out tentatively. Loki took it, forcing himself to take it in slowly so he didn’t heave it back up. It was heavenly, the cool liquid soothingly flowing down his dry throat.
He could almost see Merlin vibrating with questions, something about that making him want to reminisce with Thor. He had been that young and excitable about something new once. The prospect of knowledge, particularly of an arcane bent, had been the greatest of his desires. So foolish, so naïve…and yet they were the happiest times of Loki’s life.
“Where am I?”
“Camelot. Gaius is the court physician and we’ve been hiding you in my room. You were blue and that’s…not normal here. It would seem like magic, so we were afraid if other people saw you… There’s laws against magic-”
“It wasn’t magic,” he interrupted, slowly putting one foot in front of the other to reach an empty stool and sit down. Silently Gaius put a plate of food in front of him. He looked at the bread and fruit in distaste, but it was something to eat.
“What was it then?”
“I’m Jotun. That’s how I should look.”
“What’s a Jotun?” Gaius asked at the same time as Merlin said, “Then why do you look like this now?”
Of course he had to land in a world where Asgard and the other realms of Ysggradil hadn’t touched. “Jotun is a Frost Giant. I was born small and useless, left to die, when I was found by the Jotuns’ mortal enemy. He cast a spell on me to make me appear like him, like an Asgardian. His curse is very strong. Only when another Jotun touches me or I’m apparently near death does my ‘heritage’ surface.”
Before they could ask any further questions, the door was thrown open. “Merlin, I told you to clean out the stables!”
The man that paused in the doorway almost made him blanch. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a warrior obviously, and he didn’t want so many reminders of his younger days! He glanced between the three, his annoyance disappearing as he asked, “What’s going on?”
Gaius and Merlin exchanged glances before Gaius answered, “Merlin found him in an alleyway, stabbed, and we brought him here last night, managing to save his life.”
There was a bit of skepticism in the man’s brow, but he nodded slowly. “Who are you? How did you get stabbed?”
“Why do you want to know?” was his first reply, earning him a sharp look from the older man.
“I’m the king of Camelot. If there are criminals out there that assault those that live here, I need to have the knights put a stop to it.”
Loki looked at Merlin, who was doing an impressively poor job at hiding his anxiety over the situation. Clearly he wasn’t supposed to tell the truth to this man, which he didn’t see why he shouldn’t. They couldn’t kill him; even injured, Loki was well aware of his abilities and they wouldn’t hold a candle to him. “My name is Loki,” he said and went back to eating slowly.
The king waited and prompted, “And how did you get stabbed?”
“I was avenging the death of my mother,” Loki told him truthfully. “I won.”
The mention of his mother’s death seemed to pause them and the questions stopped, which he was grateful for. He wasn’t in the mood for explanations anymore. He didn’t know what he was planning on doing now that Asgard and everyone thought he was dead and he wasn’t sure he cared.
“While I appreciate the reason why you did it, you should have left it to the knights.”
He couldn’t help it. Loki laughed at his words. These people were so young and naïve, assuming they could handle everything, when they were truly meddling in the affairs of gods. “Your knights would be useless,” he told him. “They would be slaughtered before the Svartalfar!” Just thinking about the dark elves caused his teeth to bare and he found himself standing up and pacing. “If they could get into Asgard undetected by even Heimdall’s eyes, you would have stood no chance. Their invasion would have been successful within minutes of coming to a world like this!”
“…Gaius, what’s he talking about?”
The older man paused before stumbling out with, “Perhaps some of the medicines have caused him to be confused-”
“I am not confused!” he shouted, whirling around and regretting it as he grew a bit dizzy, taking the other three aback. “You are in the presence of someone far beyond your comprehension! You live in a world without any inkling of the others that surround you! To be so ignorant, so naïve, is foolish!” The fight eased out of him and abruptly sat on the floor to keep the room from spinning. “I wish I could be so foolish as you.”
Gaius was next to him as soon as he’d sat down and even though Loki tried to bat him off, he would not be dissuaded. The young blonde man was watching him carefully before he said, “Merlin, what’s really going on?”
“Like Gaius said-”
“Tell him the truth or I will,” Loki threatened quietly. “I will not live in a lie constructed by others.”
Merlin sighed heavily. “He’s not…from here. From what he’s said, he’s from another world. He has magic, which was why I didn’t want to tell you, Arthur.”
Arthur was staring right at him, and Loki fearlessly met his gaze. “What are you doing here then, if you’re from some other mythical ‘world’ of yours?”
“As I told you: I was avenging the death of my mother. In my near death, I teleported somewhere safe and this happened to be it.” He leaned back against the nearby wall, feeling weight drag on his eyelids now that he’d had a drink and some food.
“What do you intend on doing here?”
“Nothing of any consequence, except teach Merlin to control his magic. He doesn’t feel it, but it’s like a hammer to those that were born with magic. You could feel it from nine realms away and with no control, it’s asking for trouble.”
Perhaps it was cruel of him to reveal a secret that Merlin was deliberately hiding, but Loki was well aware of what it felt like to hide something so important and it would only make the man as bitter and disillusioned as Loki himself was. No, he had learned a lesson from his life: to hide something that made you who you were would only cause unrest. Frigga had done what she could for him, but the warriors of Asgard had always looked down on him for his magic and he had hidden it, avoided using it, when it made him feel whole. That would not happen to Merlin.
His eyes slid closed without his consent and he missed the resulting explosive argument his words had caused.
He healed quickly after that and after spending another three days of healing sleep, Loki woke rested and uninjured. He was once again alone in the room, but his clothes were nearby and this time he pulled them on completely before leaving. Merlin was sitting at the table, Gaius nowhere to be seen. The young man looked up, glared at him, and went back to staring at the table.
“I did nothing but tell the truth, so you have no need to look at me like that.”
“You ruined everything! I wasn’t telling Arthur for a reason! Camelot has a law that sorcery is punishable by death!”
“And if you truly believed that your ‘Arthur’ would kill you then you are blind as well as unobservant.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s quite obvious he’s attached to you. I’m familiar with those that are set in their ways, prejudiced against magic and nothing you will ever say will change their beliefs; Arthur is not one of those people. He can be molded, he can be made see and learn the truth. Those that I grew up with never will.”
Really, Merlin was just too simple. The boy’s shoulders relaxed quickly as a natural curiosity replaced his anger. “If you’re right, then what am I still doing here? Why did he forbid me from leaving?”
“How am I supposed to know?” he said with a glare. “What makes you think I’m at all interested?” Spotting a bowl of fruit, he grabbed a few grapes and popped them in his mouth as he frowned at the hole in his shirt left behind from the blade.
“Would at least tell me why you did it?”
Loki played with a grape between two fingers, staring at it and debating whether or not he should answer. He felt a surprising amount of empathy for this young man, boy really to him, and it was so hard not to see himself as he used to be. If he’d had the power to go back and change things, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Yet as he did not have such magic, he would have to settle for stopping the events from repeating somewhere else.
“So you don’t end up like me,” he settled on at last and flicked the grape at Merlin’s head. “We must teach you to control your magic. You are more powerful than you realize, and without control, you’ll be a beacon to the realms. The last thing you want is to draw the attention of Thanos and the Chitauri, just to name an example.”
“No one’s teaching Merlin anything.”
He looked over to the door and wasn’t really surprised to the see the king there, glaring at him fiercely. His protectiveness had clearly been riled and if he wasn’t such a spitting image of Thor at such a young age... So fierce and righteous, gleaming as brightly as the sun. So different they were from he and Merlin who seemed to thrive on the night and hidden forces. They needed to touch, to affect with their hands, and their presence; such wasn’t necessary for mages like themselves.
“That is his choice. You cannot order me, I am not your vassal. Or perhaps you mean to say that I will not be teaching Merlin anything, except in your presence? Surely this great king of this great city of Camelot is not afraid of magic?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “There are very good reasons to fear magic.”
“There are very good reasons to be cautious of magic, like there are good reasons to be cautious of swords. It is something that can be used to cause harm, but also for other purposes. It is, by far, more versatile and useful than mere swordplay. However, if understanding magic is too much for you, then it is nothing to be ashamed of. I have met many that have lacked the capacity of mind to grasp even the simplest concepts of theory, much less magic itself.”
It was almost too easy to manipulate Arthur. He could see the knowledge that he was being manipulated in those eyes, but he had stoked the man’s pride and he would not back down. “Outside of the city. I will not risk the lives of my people by being too trusting.”
“Better you than them?”
“Yes.”
Loki had heard a similar sentiment from Thor on the one and only visit he’d received from his brother once he’d been locked up. “And what of your decree against magic?”
“The law has not been repealed, and will not be, until it is proven to my satisfaction that magic is not purely evil.”
He almost didn’t know what to say to that. What backwards man had taught this young king to hate magic so much? A fierce desire to show Arthur that magic was as good or bad as its user could make it welled up; he would not let this world go on a path similar to Asgard that believed that magic was beneath, something to be used and not considered as worthy as other means. He had a chance to stop it, and he would, in its tracks. He had nothing else to do, after all.