Surrender, Chapter 4: A Will of Fire

Loki's mood had lifted even more since his little test in the kitchens. He gave a self-satisfied grin to everyone he passed in the hallways. Many bowed their heads, but most walked by cautiously. All Asgardians knew Loki was usually up to something, and it was better—and safer—not to be involved. The staff's energy—L'Shale's awakening energy—seemed to be filling him with a glorious high. He thought he could feel an air of impending freedom from L'Shale. Not realizing which hall he had turned down, he happened upon the den where Thor and his friends usually retired to for conversation. Loki did not consider them friends as Thor did, however. Friends were equals, and Loki considered his mental and magic abilities far superior to a warrior's courage, physical strength, or ferocity. They certainly had their uses, but Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were no where near his equals. Loki knew no equals, therefore he had no friends.

He considered the den and saw another opportunity to test the staff’s potential. He hadn’t spoken to the four companions since his return—he’d had no need of them until now. Yes, definitely an opportunity. He opened the doors and swept into the room with a smile. "My friends!" He made a grand gesture that took them all in. "It has been quite some time since I saw you last."

The four companions paused in their conversation and eyed Loki every way except amiably, from disappointment to anger. "Perhaps not long enough," Hogun said flatly, but there was a hint of disdain in his frown. He resumed his study of the sunset above the cityscape through the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side of the room.

Sif's face wore the anger. She stormed across the room toward Loki, "How could you plot such an attack on Midgard? It is our place to protect mortals, not kill them and attempt to rule them as a tyrant!" Loki's sincerest smile and his upraised hands stopped her just short of punching him in the face.

Volstagg and Fandral wore the disappointed faces. Rather than interrupt Sif's tirade, they chose to continue their card game and hide their frowns in mugs of ale.

"Oh, Lady Sif," Loki said sweetly as if talking to a small girl who’d thrown a tantrum, "I forgive you your angry heart. I have a feeling all will be set right soon, yes?" She gave him a distrustful look, but lowered her fists. He then addressed everyone in the room, "I assure you, justice will be served," Loki grinned, but his tone became more and more wild as he went on, "It's time for me to claim what should be mine. Odin will not live forever, and Thor—," he sneered his brother's name, "will never be fit to take his place. I'm the capable one, not him! I will deal with those who would oppose me, and all of Asgard will give me their devotion instead of that headstrong lackwit who calls himself my brother!" He was surprised to see his hands gripping the staff as if to strike Sif. She'd already stepped away several paces with her back against the wall. Her anger and distrust had changed to fear and dismay. Fandral and Volstagg were paused with half-raised mugs, mouths agape. Hogun sneered warily.

Loki felt a sudden urge to seek Odin. This is wrong. L'Shale is dangerous. Odin can still help you before it's too late. He pushed the thought away vigorously. No! I do not need his help. I will control this power. I will show them all! And they... will... kneel! Loki felt fire run through his veins. L'Shale's thirst for power burned its way into his mind, and he welcomed it. The torrent of rage and hatred felt beautiful—it made him feel alive. Recklessly it tumbled, blazed, and ripped through his thoughts. He wanted to reach out and heedlessly ride its fiery waves. It was his first taste of unbridled chaos, and he savored it.

L'Shale quivered and burned in his hands with an eagerness to show off, and Loki allowed him to indulge himself. "To think you weaklings called yourselves my friends," he spat the words as he slammed one end of the staff to the floor.

The four companions dropped their previous expressions and stared at Loki with surprise—as if they deeply regretted their previous thoughts and actions. With great haste Sif scrambled to the floor in front of Loki and sputtered frightenedly, “Forgive me, my lord! It was inexcusable to raise a hand against you. I beg your mercy!” Her knees were tucked under her and she bowed her distraught face to the floor. Her body began to shake with silent sobs.

Fandral and Volstagg rose from their seats and flanked Sif. They knelt before Loki more gracefully than Sif’s hurried genuflection, but with no less humility. Fandral spoke ruefully, “We are sorry we did not show you the proper respect due to you, my lord.”

“Please forgive us, my lord,” Volstagg bowed his shaggy head so quickly he spoke to the floor instead.

Hogun was the last to join the line of companions. “I, too, seek forgiveness for my comment, my lord. It was improper.” He knelt beside Fandral to complete the line.

The sweet smell of fear surrounded them. Loki cackled with mad laughter at the display. "And now you are in your place! How could those who kneel to me be equals much less friends?" His mouth twisted around the disgusting word again. To think they considered him an equal! The rage erupted anew with even greater force, and every muscle in Loki's body became a blistering furnace. The chaos he'd welcomed with so much hunger now threatened to burn him alive. Everything was replaced with a searing pain—everything. Screaming was an unbearable thought when every breath scorched his throat. He sagged, supported only by his hold on L'Shale, as he fought for control of his senses. It could have been a minute or a year, but eventually he heard his thoughts through the blaze. Let go of the staff, you fool!

Through the pain he forced himself to seize the charred remains of his control and release the staff from his tight grip. L'Shale fell to the floor—just a nice walking stick by appearance. Loki dropped to his knees and his chest heaved with each ragged breath as if he'd fought for his life. He had, in truth. The magnitude of his outburst came from L'Shale's anger, not his own. If Mirella was the spirit of wildflowers, then L'Shale must have been the heart of a volcano. L'Shale is trying to break free, and he's using me as a conduit. I should have been ready for such an act. How utterly careless of me to give him an inch.

The companions' situation had not changed. Loki would need to release the glamour first. That is, if he dared to touch L'Shale again. Only moments had passed since the willow wood staff had clattered to the floor, but the last traces of pain had already left his body. He weighed the situation momentarily, but in the end he was confident he could control the angry spirit. I just wasn't prepared before. I'll expect it now. He began to reach for the staff, but the hand he extended startled him. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal what appeared to be stone covering his entire arm. He hastily checked his other arm to find the same. He ran a hand over the now rough features of his face, realizing that it must have covered his whole body.

Mirella's songbird voice echoed in his mind. Any who wield the staff may charm others as a Fae. He laughed bitterly. Curse Fae and their riddles. No matter, though. Loki was a master of deception after all. He made his skin appear as it should with little effort. Others would not be able to see L'Shale’s effect on him as long as he maintained the deception. After his skin was set right, he again found himself reaching for L'Shale. He briefly considered the line of prostrate companions with a bemused smile, “I will release you—for now—but I do enjoy you four better this way.” He tapped L’Shale once on the floor lightly, and the companions rose from their positions, bewildered and fearful. They backed away from Loki in unison. A flash of outrage suddenly tinged Loki’s speech, “Speak to no one of this, lest you wish a slow, agonizing death.” He adjusted his cloak with a tight smile and left the room briskly, L'Shale rapping the marble floor as he walked.

I will not lose control again. This power belongs to me now.