//------------------------------// // I Can Feel You Judging Me // Story: We Remember Everything // by Thunderscourge //------------------------------// A/N: Special thanks to King Sombrony, LordSiravant, gakuseiakira, Fear the Dark, Mutie Genic, MoonSparkle The Vampony, ArcaneVisions, ZeroInfinity, Ketvirtas, Killabyte, type13, and Drgnwolf for your comments last chapter! It is great comments like those that keep me writing despite! Thank you, and I hope to continue hearing from you all! Super special thanks to Ketvirtas, who drew fan art for the last chapter where Loki is picking up Trixie seen here and for their artwork of when Trixie fell asleep in Loki's bed seen here! I am so very thankful, and appreciate all fan art immensely! All of my for you, Ketvirtas. Chapter title now brought to you by Disturbed's "My Child" I'd love to hear what you have to think afterwards in the comments, and remember, comments are ! At the sound of another voice Loki jerked around to see what new threat had revealed itself. Only, when he turned to look there was no source to the voice. Nothing that could be seen through the thick fog at least. “Another phantom…” Feeling his nerves relax, Loki returned to the random direction he had intended to set out towards. He could not recall in his hazy mind where Thanos had left to, especially after being left to handle his seemingly alive father. The encounter had left him wounded, though Loki noticed with slight interest that his wound was not pouring with blood after the initial trickle. What was this place that a normally noteworthy wound was reduced to barely making him bleed? That his deceased birth father had been able to inflict it? He was not left to think long about the subject, for a quick flash of gold and green before him send him stumbling back. He nearly dropped Luna’s apprentice onto the ground in surprise, and it was only with a grunt of exertion that he managed to resume his hold on her. Loki looked forward in disbelief as a golden armored version of himself stood with a playful, yet smug, face at the pathetic sight that was Loki. “Leaving so soon? Is that any way to treat yourself?” the newcomer questioned with a small laugh before pointing the very scepter Loki once wielded at the prince. Not believing in such obvious trickery, Loki snarled at the being who stood before him. He regained his own composure now that he was certain that it was not a completely malevolent force, but his suspicions were raised nonetheless. Having just fought his father, Loki was in no position to doubt that this being really was a physical manifestation of himself. This did not soothe his nerves, however, as it only made him question his location even further. “What sort of illusion is this?” This elicited another laugh from the fake Loki, who rose his staff to point at the original one’s face. After pointing to the top of his face, the new Loki lowered the staff slowly down the entirety of the first one’s body until he reached the toes. “Oh, no illusion. In this world I am very real just as you are. Thankfully I am more than half dressed. Thanos catch you at an inconvenient time?” Loki ignored his other’s mocking tone and question, making sure to keep his eye on the threatening staff. The shirtless and confused Loki furrowed his brow while preparing to avoid any attack his armored self might send at him, “What are you then?” After a disrespectful bow the new Loki pointed the staff between the two of them, “I am you. I am the Loki who would have laid ruin to Midgard despite the efforts of a certain large equine. I am the you who gave into his anger and took revenge on his family. A reflection brought to life at the behest of your jailer.” Still trying to learn more about the realm he found himself in, the original Loki questioned this mention of a jailer. Could it be the same person who Thanos desired him to meet? “Jailer?” “The mistress of this realm. Not the most talkative woman, I must admit, and she does seem to detest me despite bringing me into being,” the fake Loki cackled briefly before pointing the scepter down at the original’s stomach wound, “The same goes for you I see. She left you quite the gift when you arrived here. That was most amusing to watch, even if I did not care to intervene.” The mention of the encounter made Loki snarl. What reason would Laufey have in attacking him over this other Loki? Were they in on this together? Could Laufey have been sent there by the unnamed woman? What purpose would she have in just having him die like that over having Thanos finish things? The original made his scorn known through his expression, “If only he took to attacking you, rather than I. I very nearly died. What would this mistress do then?” The second Loki tilted his head in some confusion, “What makes you think you can die so easily? Death is at her beck and call after all.” Before the original could question this, the fake beckoned him to come closer, even using some magic to drag him a foot in his own direction, “I believe I have said enough on the matter. Come, we have much to discuss.” Despite the forceful tug, the original Loki made no further movement forward. He had already decided he did not trust this being, for not only was it seemingly a reflection of himself, but it was an alternate self who was even more far gone. “And if I do not care for what you have to show me?” Loki scoffed at his darker half. Rather than be angry at this refusal, the second Loki only sighed in annoyance. He brought his scepter up into the air and leveled it at the horse strewn across his better half’s shoulders, “Then I will cut the heart out of that equine you have slung over your back.” Wordlessly the original Loki lowered Trixie down to the ground and stood back up straight. He was not about to do whatever this other being wanted him to, for he trusted him less than he could trust his own self. Not only was he different from this other self, but he was actually finding himself detesting the other being. Was this truly another possible fate he could have followed? Seeing the defiance of the original Loki, the second decided he would have to teach him a lesson before they could commence with what he had planned. Before the original could react the blade of the golden scepter impaled him through the wound he had been given before, forming an x in his gut. Bent over after being run through with the blade and still weak from his recent battle, Loki did not avoid the follow up knee to the face or slash from the same weapon that tore across his chest. Not satisfied with this, the second Loki tripped him by teleporting behind him and sweeping his legs out from underneath him. Once the original had fallen to the ground the fake second strolled over to the comatose Trixie and kicked her strongly in the gut, a wicked smile growing on his face as she rolled over limply. Loki crawled up onto his knees in defiance, but the pain surging through him kept him from rising as his dark half brought the back end of its staff down on Trixie’s ribs. The second Loki cast a mad smirk back at the original before turning back to the helpless horse he was beating continuously, “You are left weak from your recent scuffle. I am not hindered by the weight of attachments like you are. We may be the same, but we are very much dissimilar. I had hoped to change that, but it seems as if you will have to learn how ” The fake avoided a sudden teleportation and strike by the original, who fought through exhaustion and pain both to do the assault. It was met with painful failure however, as the second Loki swung his scepter back to crash lengthwise into the original’s gut. As the first Loki gagged in pain the second scoffed at the attempt to resist, “You forget, we share one mind. Only you have let yours grow weak with love for such worthless beings. You’ve already lost, so you will do as I say unless you want to bury this worthless being.” The second went back to slamming his staff down on the horse, hoping that the abuse would make his other self more subservient by using whatever emotional connection he held against him. Instead of trying to physically confront himself again, Loki stretched his arms out and called forth what little magical energy he had at the moment. His paltry amount of power did not perturb his sadistic self at all, who continued to just beat on the helpless Trixie a few feet away. The original snarled as the beating continued, “If I have learned anything, it is that one cannot assume victory until it has been fully achieved.” He received the result he wanted, as the second Loki turned to face him with the idea of putting him through the beating instead. In true Loki fashion, the fake double cast a spell to form a dozen clones in the nearby area. All laughed at the original in a chorus of mockery while they moved to strike him. “Spare me the lecture. We have shared our lives after all. And to think I came to lend my wisdom ” Loki, having been convinced that they truly were quite similar in some regards, had expected his foe to create illusionary copies of himself. And true to form, he had learned from past battles with Thor that the most effective method of countering this was to let out an attack in every direction. Courtesy of his months of isolation and training with Luna, Loki shot out all of his remaining magic in the form of lightning at the various Loki clones. Many passed straight through the fakes, but one managed to find a way to ground itself by passing through his alternate self. The second Loki cried in pain as the damp area did him no favors, as the damp ground and air favored the electricity. Once he found the true enemy, the original focused all of the beams on the single target and compounded the electrocution. The attack did not last long due to Loki’s lack of power, but it had the intended effect. Not having learned this particular magic under Luna’s tutelage, his other self had not seen it coming and was just as caught off guard by it as they both had been when Thor did a similar trick in their fight over the Bifrost so long ago. The armor of the second Loki had further helped sizzle the fake, who was now gasping on his hands and knees in pain. It not for the various environmental factors and the armor being worn, the fake Loki would not have been so wounded, but the original would take whatever he could get. The real Loki limped over to the fake and kicked his scepter from his hands before grabbing him by his horned helmet and dragging his face up, “What purpose could she have had in conjuring such a sad soul? One that reflects myself, but has no essence beyond being my opposite?” Having spent enough time with Luna to learn how to use levitation in his own alternate history, the fake Loki called forth the scepter to his hand while screaming at the original, “You will have to ask her when I leave your still body wishing she would release you from this place!” The first Loki twisted the helmet of his other self to shift his body and make the scepter slam into him rather than being caught in his hand, “Where you see weakness, I see strength.” Letting go of the fake Loki, the original stood up and stomped down on the faker’s arm. His foot firmly placed on the elbow of him, he took him by the horns again and pulled him up as hard as he could manage to. A sickening snap greeted his ears, and Loki quickly smacked his slightly charred opponent across his armored face. “If not for Luna and this younger equine, I would not have been able to overcome you,” Loki boasted to the dazed fake, who he quickly brought his knee into the face of in revenge for the similar treatment earlier. The tables had turned, and he was the one in control of the situation now. Loki cast a hand at the limp Trixie, “I may barely know her, but I value the bond she holds with my significant other. The same one you say you betrayed willingly.” Through a bloodied face the fake coughed out weakly with indignation, “A single decision sets us apart. You think yourself better than your own self?” With his grip on the helmet Loki twisted the wicked being’s head to the point where its neck began to creak, “You and I are not the same. I would choose the pain of attachment over the power of solitude where you would only serve your own wicked self.” Before finishing the job and ending his opponent’s life, a sinister idea crossed Loki’s mind. One that made him smirk with the same evil glee the alternate self had earlier. With a cackle he tossed the wounded fake onto the ground and brought a hand down onto his neck. “I have not had much practice morphing living beings, for even I find it abhorrent, but I will make an exception now.” The thrill of fighting had helped bring back some of his energy, and Loki had long before learned a spell he deemed worthy of this pathetic shadow of himself. Frigga had tried to make him swear to only use illusory transformations, but his growing wealth of knowledge on the subject brought a most satisfying idea to his mind. “What are you doing? Unhand me—” The fake’s voice was cut off as his body glowed a pitch black. Loki could feel magic flowing through him, as if tempting him to finish this in this brutal manner, and he could not care less wherever it was flowing from. All that mattered was ending this terrible reflection of himself who dared remind him of the path he had almost walked down. Soon after, where a golden armored body once lay only a black bird lay. Loki still did not care how he managed to successfully do the full spell, for he found himself smiling wickedly down at the former fake. “You will be known as Ikol, my opposite and a reminder of my own darkness. You will serve me just as you are bound to my will. If you cross me I will make you suffer for time eternal. Understood, bird?” Loki lifted his arm up for the magpie to fly to, and it did so wordlessly. Loki had mixed in the taming spell used by some stable masters to tame animals to instead force this dreadful being into service, and he did so without the smallest piece of regret. “Come now.” The bird followed its master’s bidding, fighting through a partially broken wing to lift itself into the air and do as it was told. Casting a glare over to the forgotten scepter, Loki decided to leave it where it lay. He cared not for how the original had twisted his mind, and he would not give in to the power it offered again. Instead he walked past the artifact and over to the still Trixie, whose chest continued to rise and fall faintly despite the egregious damage she had suffered. He thoughtlessly took her over his shoulders again, and the bird on his arm adjusted itself so that it was now standing on top of the horse. Loki sighed as he once again prepared to journey into the surrounding mist. He may not have gained any answers yet, but he wouldn’t let the less than perfect ending to this encounter be the end of his search. He had barely left where he woke up after all, and there was an entire realm for him to discover and survive through. “Stay alive, magician. I will not have Luna be mourning you if I can help it.” The journey was not of the kind Loki was used to. Normally when he had others with him on grand adventures he would be accompanied by some banter. Some fun, intermixed with fights with giant monsters. There was none of that. There were voices, as well as sounds to accompany them, but Loki soon realized they were coming from what appeared to be ghastly phantoms. “I’m sorry…” one woman’s voice whispered as if to a child through the fog. Loki wandered towards the voice only to be met with a crying woman who appeared to be years beyond her young age crying to herself. “My utopia…” another voice behind him whispered to themself. Loki turned to see a being fade from existence, their grey visage seeming to have never been there at all. A cold waft of air crossed past Loki that made him feel as if Laufey had only this was followed by a fatalistic monotone voice, “Believe me, you’re the only one who cares…” “We can’t go back…” came a sobbing, hushed voice. Another voice overlapped with it as it emotionlessly stated, “—vengeance is all I have left.” “Please, don’t…” a pathetic voice begged as the screech of metal dragged closer to it. The hushed voice returned, “Goodbye?” Loki looked about him as more and more lost souls appeared and disappeared as if from thin air. The fog concealed them mostly, and made their entrances and exits all the more chilling. Some were wandering lethargically, whereas others were crouching down and choking on their own tears. Others lay as if they were dying, words repeating as if forced to relive that very moment again and again. Loki felt himself grow sick to his stomach at the display of such beings. Was he to become one of these mad, lost beings? Was that what this place was for? He steeled himself as he continued to stumble past them in the swamp that was forever shrouded in fog that together gave the impression of going on forever. A dying gasp to the side caught Loki’s attention as a broken man reached out as if to touch someone who was not there, “I wish I could have gone where you have gone…” A burly man growled across from the dying one, growling to an unseen threat through the fog, “No, you won’t get me!” Further on the path came the creaking of metal followed a snort, “Easy prey…” “Brother—” An audible blast of gunfire was quickly followed by a betrayed, seething voice. “Traitor.” Differing from the others came a smug, almost playful voice, “Seriously? After that humiliation he just put me through you think I’d leave before I’ve gotten some payback?” A stuttering, distorted, and fluctuating feminine voice joined the chorus with a shift in timbre as it went on, “Are you afraid? What is it you fear?” “—for I now find I have no choice at all,” a raspy voice growled to itself. Another woman’s voice entered the fray, scoffing haughtily, “What are you going to do—” “How would things have been if I had listened?” one of the previous lost souls continued, wistfully speaking as if no others were around. A distraught man faded away as he spoke softly to himself, “I’ll bring you their corpses...” Throughout the mist and swamp, Loki found his stomach churning more and more as the voices seemed to grow in quantity and number beyond the point he could hear them all or notice all of their sources before they vanished entirely. After enough stumbling through the dark, Loki found his first moment of relief since arriving when he came across a plain where no beings seemed to reside and the fog appeared to be lighter. Drifting into the clearer space, Loki whispered to himself much like the mad beings he was passing, “These cries of anguish,” he turned to see another soul from the path vanish, “A world of eternal suffering...what sick mind would bring together such beings? Are they reliving their final moments, or facing new torment?” The air around him gave no response, nor did Trixie or Ikol. Loki knew he could try and force something out of Ikol, but his body was aching too much to continue going any further. He lowered himself and Trixie to the ground, letting her gently onto the grassy plain and then dropping himself onto the ground. His wounds had not been bleeding, and while he knew this should worry him, Loki had since stopped searching for these more trivial answers in favor of larger ones. What was this place for? What was he doing here? Was he intended to just forever suffer like the others, or did he have a special purpose to serve there? With a lazy glance Loki looked over to Trixie, who was making him half regret his emotional side with how much more difficult she was going to make this for him, “If you care to wake up, feel free to do so anytime.” As expected she did not rise, though Ikol squawked at the prince. Loki shooed the bird from off of Trixie, and the former fake Loki took its place on the original’s shoulder. Loki smirked at the bird, glad that he had been able to reverse the tables so suddenly. He still had no answer to where the surge of power had come from to enable his attempt, but that was just another question he would have to have answered by the end of this. “Power...need…” On the same issue of energy, Loki turned to see another shirtless being stumbling out of the mist and into the grassy plain. Their skin was far paler than even Loki’s, and their long ears and long eyebrows reminded Loki of the storybook tales of elves Frigga would read to him years ago. The pitiful soul staggered forth as if in complete agony, its weathered red and tattered cape dragging behind it as the lower half of its torn robes covered its legs from view. The being was as skinny as it was pale, appearing to be deathly ill as it wandered towards Loki. Still, Loki was in no mood to deal with an insane being, “Begone, wretch.” It continued to slowly exit the mists and drag itself one foot at a time towards Loki and Trixie. Loki prepared to get up and fight whatever this being was, but paused when he noticed something. The eyes of the being were hazy, but glowing with magic much like Luna’s would when she unleashed her full power. Furthermore, the being appeared to be on death’s doorstep with how a large, dull green stone pierced its chest. There was no way this being could be a threat, and so Loki sat back down. “I...need…more...ma…m…” The being collapsed onto the ground, writhing weakly in pain before ceasing all movement. Loki frowned at it, sad to have witnessed the suffering but also surmising that this was only one such being. There could be others out there that were true threats, unlike this pathetic wretch. “Whatever mistress lords over this realm must be some sadist.” While the air had by no means been warm previously, all sense of warmth was drained out of it as if by a void in the area. Loki twisted around and began looking for a source of the drain, only to come face to face with a hooded being as he stood. The hood hung over half of its face, and darkness covered the rest in an unnatural manner. Loki took a step back away from the being the moment he realized that in one hand it held a scythe, sensing imminent danger from this surprise being. Despite him moving, the being across from him made no such movement. Loki paused to observe it further as it stood silently before him, the darkness inside its hood looking towards him as if to reflect his own observation. The hood continued into a full cloak all the way down to the being’s feet, a pointed green mantle resting upon the shoulders of it. Underneath the hood came similar jagged points, though the darkness that masked the face similarly obscured any view of what was causing the points. After a moment of silence, Loki narrowed his eyes at the mysterious newcomer, “Who would you happen to be?” The being continued to make no movement, though Loki noticed then that the hand it had resting upon its weapon was even paler than the dying elf behind him. The skin was snow white, similar to what one might find on Jotunheim, and contrasted completely with the black cloak it emerged from. Loki frowned as it continued to be still and make no noise. The fact that it could so suddenly creep up on him without a single noise or trace worried him further. What were its intentions? “Not the most verbose, are you?” The being twisted its visible hand and in a black flash the scythe disappeared. In its place an orb of black and white shifting color appeared, sending Loki into a panic. Was it about to attack? The being did no such thing, instead releasing the orb into the air. It disappeared, but whatever it did resulted in the grassy plains they were standing on to wither away and disappear, along with the dark air of the swamp setting and the surrounding mist as well. Everything was replaced first by a black void, with even Trixie fading away, and then everything changed to pure white like the being’s skin tone. Loki looked around worriedly as the world began to reform around him, colors and shapes entering into the white void at a rate impossible to keep up with. He had no comprehension as to what was happening, though the ease at which this being was shifting the world around them made Loki gain a suspicion as to who it was. “More illusions? Has this all been your doing?” he questioned the being, only for it to remain mute and grant no response. The setting’s shifting slammed to a halt, and in place of the void was a setting Loki knew very well: the edge of Asgard where their endless river ran to the edge of their floating continent. The place he knew best for being where funerals were held, with the deceased being put into boats that would be set aflame and left to drift off the edge of the waterfall as a final farewell as the deceased hopefully traveled to the fabled Valhalla, a place where the good and righteous went after death. Loki focused on the setting more now that he had something other than the being to look at. He could make out some familiar forms around his own body, which appeared to be as ghastly now as the others he witnessed earlier. He felt no pain, and thus no fear that he had died, but Loki could tell that whatever he was seeing now was not something he was actually a part of. Not a place he was actually at physically. As Loki continued to observe the setting, he found himself aghast at what he could now observe, “That-” A funeral boat was being released, and on it was a familiar golden helmet. The very same one he had worn for years. No body was to be found on the boat however, only the lone helmet that stood as a marker for him. Loki frowned at the sight, but what shook him more was the crowd gathered at the shore. There were not crowds of people lined up to mourn him, a not very shocking fact, but only eight had come. Thor stood with his human lover, two children in their arms that Loki could not bear to focus on. Thor was looking sadly at the boat as it began to drift away, while his lover instead was focusing on cheering up the two very young children. By Thor were Fandral and Volstagg, who both seemed to be in a state of neutral emotion at the drifting vessel. Still, the friends had a hand each on their leader Thor who was close to tears despite his tough nature. Next to them was Heimdall, who stood not with two eyes but rather only one with a large scar covering his face and where the missing one had once been. He made no movement at all at the funeral, obviously being there to show respects to his prince even if he had no personal affection for the man. Lastly, near the water was a crouching Luna. She had closed eyes as she just stayed there, kneeling on her hands and knees. She was not weeping, though she was not doing much of anything. Loki felt a pang at the sight of Luna’s obvious sorrow, “She cares too much.” The hooded being who brought this vision to him, seemingly one of the future, continued its silence. This left Loki to further wonder about the scene playing before him, “Is this what is to come?” A slight nod came from the being, surprising Loki given that it was the first response it had granted. No noise came however, nor did any explanation. Loki turned back to the sight of his own funeral and began to observe it further. Frigga was not present. Nor was Odin, though the latter was not much of a surprise to Loki. After all, his father could care less for him. But his own mother missing his funeral? “Where is mother? Would she not attend?” The setting once again swirled and shifted, this time more quickly and ending in a familiar room of Asgard’s castle. One where Loki and his mother would sometimes practice magic safe away from prying eyes in the castle when he was younger. In it a giant rocklike being with a wicked, tusked face stood behind Queen Frigga as a dagger emerged straight through her body. The scene instantly shifted back to the river, where this time a whole sea of boats floated by on the water. Loki gasped at the apparent future vision of his own mother being murdered. “No. This is wrong. What could have done this?” The unknown being causing the vision lifted its hand up, offering no verbal response as a skinny and pale finger pointed straight to his chest. Loki scoffed as he looked around him at the funeral, “You are telling me that my decisions make this…these damnable events happen?” The figure again gave a small, affirmative nod through its hood. This did little to soothe Loki, who was driven to anger over this revelation. “I have had enough of this! I refuse to take the blame for-” Loki felt his throat choke up as if a invisible hand was suddenly crushing it, and the half dressed prince fell to his knees at the river shore. The being before him had not even moved, but they had made their point clear: they would not tolerate his ranting. Once the choking ended a moment later Loki gasped through his new attempts to breathe, “Go to Hel and leave me be.” At those words, the silent being who cared to show him these fates recreated its scythe, now threateningly pointing it at Loki’s neck. In frustration and panic Loki cried out, “What do you want from me?! It’s not as if I can do anything about this! I will die here in this accursed swamp realm long before I can change anything!” The cloaked being once again vanished its scythe away and resumed its still, observing vigil. Feeling less threatened, Loki softened his tone while continuing to ponder his precarious fate out loud, “If it can even be changed…” His eyes snapped wide open as he realized that whoever this was, they were apparently trying to warn him about a possible future. With the hope that he could somehow prevent his own demise Loki scrambled to his feet and approached the figure, “What do I need do to prevent this fate? Can it be?” They made no move as he drew closer, even until he stood face to face with them. Even with his proximity Loki was unable to gaze into the hood, for only darkness met him there. After a moment of held silence, Loki found himself sick of this being’s unwillingness to just tell him anything. “Tell me!” And, with that, the vision of Asgard shattered. The world around Loki swirled and changed until he once again was left with the grassy plains where Trixie lay. On top of his shoulder again was Ikol, who had too disappeared during the vision Loki noticed. What’s more, the figure was now no longer before him. They had disappeared as suddenly as they had come, and he was still none the wiser as to who they were or what their intention was. Just how in the dark he was was driving Loki mad, and he found himself seething as he yelled out to the nothingness around him. “How may I hope to save them if I have not the knowledge how? Where did you go?!” As to be expected, no voice answered him. Loki fell to his knees and slammed his fist into the ground furiously, outraged that he was now only left with more questions. “I was not finished with you! Come back, you mute spectre!” This time a voice did reach out to him, and Loki found himself twisting around to look at who dared address him. “Calm yourself. I am pleased to see another. Have you enjoyed your visit?” Loki narrowed his eyes at the very large being who was slowly approaching the clearing through the thick mists. They had horns raising off their head in a manner similar to Loki’s helmet, and their two legs looked more like an equine’s than a regular humanoid’s. The mist shrouded most of their features, leaving Loki in the dark as to what or who this was, though he could tell it was not the hooded figure from before. “Who are you? Are you the puppeteer of this madness?” Through the mist the being laughs with its deep voice, all the while shaking its head, “Not I, but I would consider yourself lucky. Not all that Lady Death visits do so with their souls intact.” Exiting the mist, the being casts a glance down at the fallen elf. Its eyes linger a moment with sadness before looking at Trixie with interest as well before finally lifting its glowing gaze to look at Loki. “We can speak more where it is safer. There are others who lurk in this land who would not be so welcoming.”