Truth (LokixReader pt. 8)

You stared at him, uncomprehending. On Asgard? You were born on Asgard? No. No, you were just…just normal. You shook your head slightly, “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” he got to his feet and prowled slowly across the cage toward you, you pushed yourself to your feet, watching him warily. You nodded slightly, fighting the urge to flee as he approached the barrier, and a cold grin spread across his lips, “What reason have I to lie, my dear?”

“To gain my trust.” You said carefully, “Hoping to win me to your side, to have me as an ally.”

“And if I lie to gain your trust,” he said softly, “then you discover I lied, I have accomplished nothing, for I will lose you and my plans will be foiled. It is a risk I am unwilling to take. Rest assured, my girl, I am telling you the truth.”

You closed your eyes, not wanting to hear what sounded disturbingly like the truth. With a single sentence, you were born on Asgard, he had destroyed everything you had ever considered to be the truth of your life. He exposed everything for the lie it was, and you didn’t know if you could handle it. “How do you know this?”

“I was there,” his voice was still soft, comforting. He sounded regretful that you had to hear the harsh truth from him and when you dared to look up at him, his eyes were gentle. He rested his hand against the glass, and his brows were furrowed tenderly. The pity in his face nearly brought you to tears, you could feel an uncomfortable prickle in your eyes and you looked away before the tears began to fall. He whispered above you, “I’m sorry…this all must be so hard to hear.”

You shook your head slightly, disbelief making you attempt to keep up the stubborn exterior, but inside you were hollow. You looked back up at him after blinking the tears away and said resignedly, “Tell me more.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Who was my mother?” you asked, “I saw her in my dream. She was…beautiful.”

“As well she should be,” Loki said almost carelessly, “she was Lofn, the goddess who inspires passion, in men or gods, to heights undreamed of.”

“And my father?”

He only smiled wickedly down at you. You scowled and took a step closer to the cage, “Tell me! You’ve already answered my other questions, why suddenly so secretive about this?”

“Ask me another question.”

You inhaled sharply, irritation flashing across your face before you exhaled, forcibly calming yourself. You cast about for another question to ask the god, but now, once you stood before him, the only thing you wanted to know what the identity of your father.

“Shall I show you your true face?” his voice was tinged with promise and your irritation was pushed aside, replaced by wary curiosity.

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking him warily up and down, “What do you mean, my ‘true face’?”

“Do you not know?” he inquired, delightedly amused, “You are wearing a glamour as well. Why do you imagine you are so quick to tire? Your body is strained already with the effort of keeping the glamour in place, it cannot handle too much exertion.”

“Show me,” you demanded, your eyes intent upon his face. Smirking, he clicked his fingers and a mirror shimmered into existence to your right. It hung in the air, floating languidly. You looked at yourself. Some of your hair had fallen in your face so you lifted a hand and combed it away. Your eyes were hollow, tired, and you looked pale. The harsh light from above highlighted the bones and shadows of your collar, left bare by the deep scoop-neck of the cotton pyjama top. From the corner of your eye, you saw Loki wave his hand slightly and you gasped. A tingly feeling spread across your skin, along with the same golden glow you had seen when Loki’s glamour faded. Returning your attention to the mirror, you watched as the golden light fell away, taking the warm, tingly feeling with it. And you saw yourself for the first time.

Your skin was perfect and fairly glowing with health, your lips were full and perfectly kissable, your brows gracefully arched. Your hair was longer, thicker, with a sleek glossiness that would rival any shampoo commercial. You were taller, too, incredibly graceful even when standing still. You lifted your hands to touch your face, feeling skin soft and smooth as silk. You ran a slender finger over your velvety lips and touched your hair. Everything looked different, your face was prouder, your cheekbones beautifully formed and prominent. The only thing which hadn’t changed when the glamour faded, was your eyes. The same shape, the name colour, only brighter and more vibrant. They glittered out at you, framed by luxurious lashes, and a slight smile spread across your lips, flashing perfect, pearly teeth.

You heard Loki chuckle quietly, and, as your fingers began to trail down your neck in their exploration of your body, your gaze slid over to him. He was watching you with a child-like, triumphant smile spreading across his pale face.

“Behold the face of a goddess.”