Hai Kya-chan.
Yeah, it gets complicated sometimes ^.^ Tis hard to write sometimes, gah >.>;
Your new puppy? *squees* I love puppies!
Thanks Oathy! XD Yeah, it's a little pep-talk going on there. With snow. And angst-ness. And cigarettes.
; Lawl.
Zomg. It hash Loki in it.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
“I knew you would wish to speak with me,” Loki commented, dark eyes finding Sable’s frame in the shadows. Her arms were folded, pose rigid as she stood there - clearly unhappy about something. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Breathing a silent sigh, he tapped a single finger upon the surface of the table. “Come closer.”
He heard Sable’s sigh, then the barely audible sound of her footsteps against cold tile. Her arms remained tightly folded as she approached him. They were in the great hall. Loki sat at the head of the table, while Sable stood at its side. A single candle flickered, although it was not needed - it was late afternoon, and weak as the sunlight was, it could still glow through the glass roof, flooding the room with a dim light.
“Here,” she said quietly, removing the cloak reluctantly, slipping her slender arms from the sleeves. Her skin became speckled with goose bumps - it was freezing. “I guess you want it back.” He held up a single hand, shaking his head.
“You keep it,” he insisted - in another strange act of kindness. Her narrowed eyes asked if he meant it. “Of course.” Giving him a nod, she promptly put it back on - it still smelled of him - happy to keep warm. He gestured for her to sit, but she refused.
A silence passed. Usually, in a moment like this one, Loki would have exploded with rage, questioning a guest about their reluctance to speak. But, this was a different situation entirely, and Sable stood unusually quiet with a glimmer of hurt in her black eyes.
“Why?” she murmured, kicking her heels so that the tap reverberated around the vast hall. “Why did you do that?”
Loki shrugged, strong and silent as she glared into his eyes. He wanted to explain, but knew that either way, he would end up hurting her feelings - never before had he been so reluctant to cause anyone pain. He cared for her, but simply not enough to overcome his own lust for power.
“The least you could do is explain,” she hissed at him, obviously pained by what had gone on. Her lips trembled as she spoke. “You can’t just…”
“I did not anticipate how I would feel,” he interrupted with a mumble, feeling reluctant at expressing himself to her. She raised an eyebrow at him.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she said, letting her arms fall to her sides.
“The weakness I felt,” he said, eyes finding the tabletop. It was dinted with the marks of his fists, even scratched with his nails; he often felt so angered that he’d claw at the table - a strange habit, to say the least. “I didn’t like that one bit.” Sable looked to the ground.
“I see,” she whispered, “I should have known you aren’t comfortable with it.” For some reason, she felt
guilty at not realising so. Loki’s megalomaniacal tendencies were an integral part of his ruthless character. Anyone who knew him knew that he had no tolerance for feelings of inadequacy, or weakness, no matter how seemingly insignificant, or small. She felt partly ashamed at herself for forgetting this.
Loki noticed, and felt, for the first time in his life, the knot of guilt in his stomach. He sighed as he rested his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his upheld, twined hands.
“It is not your fault,” he responded quietly. She looked up with a tear in her eye, surprised to hear him speak this way. “I suppose… I, too, wanted it to happen.” She raised an eyebrow, perplexed at his words. He tried to elaborate - he hated sounding so sluggish. “I wanted it. But I did not realise the weakness that would follow.”
“Do you mean to say you regret it?” she asked, silently thinking to herself what his answer would be - to her, it seemed he was about to say yes. Her aching chest affirmed this, thudding away with despair.
“No,” he replied, shocking her slightly. “I do not regret what happened.” Her eyes widened.
“So…” she said, looking to him with a new-found hope. “What of us now?” He closed his eyes, knowing that this was going to break her cruel heart.
“Nothing,” he said, mulling over the thought. “Although, not now, at least.” She raised an eyebrow, her gaze becoming watery. Her body quivered as the moment ran through her mind.
“What do you mean?” she asked, desperate for some clarity. He was ripping her heart into shreds.
“Perhaps,” he said, rubbing his face with his hands as he leaned back in the chair. “Perhaps… once this is all over. Once the Keyblader has been eliminated.” Sable raised her head slightly, as if to nod, but asked a question first.
“You mean,” she began nervously, “after you have carried out your plans?”
Loki nodded. He knew that once he’d achieved his goal of total domination, he would no longer be plagued by his demonic greed for power - and when he kissed Sable, he’d feel superior, knowing that he would be in total control of the universe, and everything within it. To his twisted mind, it was the perfect plan; he’d avenge Mikado’s death, dominate over the worlds, have Sable by his side - and get all that he wanted.
“Okay,” she said softly, looking to him with optimism in her white face. She pawed at her eyes, wiping her tears away. She understood what he meant. “There is still hope for us?”
“Yes,” he concluded blankly, after a pause. Sable breathed a sigh of relief - at least it was not an outright no, and this was enough to raise her flagging spirits. But now, it was on to business. “Have you been to Stallos Crystallum today?”
“Briefly,” she said, feeling more comfortable with him, now that the air was clear. She gently pulled a chair from the table, settling herself upon it comfortably. She swung her legs up so that she could sit upon them. “They say they are not going anywhere today.”
“Why not?” Loki raised an eyebrow as he moved his hair from his face, sweeping it back so that it hung down over only his right shoulder. The tuft flowed over his body.
“Because of Riku’s injuries,” she said. The thought suddenly struck her as Loki’s eyes widened. “Oh, you must not know yet.”
“What?” Loki said, eager to know what had happened. Riku being injured was excellent news; but he wanted to know how this had come about.
“I am not entirely sure,” she said, resting her elbow on the table, holding her chin in her hand. Black hair fell over her face. “I overheard King Mickey explaining the issue to Donald, and Goofy, so I have had to piece the events together.”
“Well?” Loki said eagerly, letting his hands rest on the table. He looked to her with dark eyes.
“From what I have heard,” she began to explain, “Furturn played a little trick on those fools.” Loki’s eyes lit with cruel joy - his very gaze begging her to elaborate. “He plunged the forest into darkness, and in the confusion, he grabbed Riku by the legs, dragging him beneath the water.” She smirked, closing her eyes to visualise this. “Naturally, he was lashing out to free himself, but he was so disorientated in the darkness that he could not land a strike on Furturn - making holding him underwater a simple task. It went on for two minutes or so before the King cast a spell of Light.”
“Such a spoil sport,” Loki commented, with a smile upon his handsome face. “I digress. Please, continue.”
“When Sora saw what Furturn had done,” she went on, “he attacked. But, Furturn held him off, throwing him back. He knew Sora would only attack again, so he pummelled Riku’s face over and over - of course, he was completely unconscious by now, due to the lack of oxygen - before leaving him in the water to die.”
Loki laughed, his cackle cold and hollow as he thought of this - Riku‘s bloody corpse, floating in the dark water. These actions were something quite similar to action he’d take - something he simply loved to see.
“Of course, Furturn was defeated,” she sighed, a breath of sorrow in her voice. Loki sighed, too, his laugh fading. He expected as much. “Sora and his pals managed to get Ikawa and Riku back to their inn.”
“Their condition?” Loki asked hopefully - well, hopeful to hear something negative.
“Ikawa was beaten,” she said, straining to remember the King’s words as he thoroughly explained the events to Donald and Goofy, “but conscious. Riku, on the other hand… he was in a terrible state. But one of those freaks managed to heal them both. Ikawa was fine upon waking this morning, he regained the use of the leg you injured. Riku…”
“Yes?” Loki said, urging her to continue as he shot up in the chair. He would have loved to hear that the young man had died.
“He was still unconscious this morning,” she sighed, “but awoke with minor injuries.”
“Damn it,” Loki frowned, muttering a curse word beneath his breath as he fell back in his chair.
“So they’re naturally fearful of moving too much, too soon,” she finished, picking at her clawed fingers. “The last I heard, they were going to stay in that inn for one more night. But if Riku feels up to it, they’ll leave sooner.” Loki nodded, folding his arms over his huge chest.
“Alright,” he purred. “You had better check back every now and then, just to see where they are.”
“Of course,” she nodded - still eager to please him in any way possible. If she devoted herself to serving him, perhaps he would reconsider their relationship - the desperate attempts of this lonely girl. Wanting to talk to him longer, she made some small conversation. “Orexein seemed in a good mood today.”
“Probably all those cigarettes,” Loki mumbled. “It’s a terrible habit to get himself into - he has a hacking cough already.” It seemed he cared for Orexein - his best friend - more than any other person. Well, any other living person, that is. Sable nodded.
“He goes to other worlds, right?” she asked. Loki nodded. “Wow.”
Loki yawned - not meaning to offend her, he was simply exhausted. Although his eyes were usually dark, they were darkened further with tiredness, his handsome face marred with a dull lethargy. It seemed he wanted to sleep.
“Did you send Ryu?” he asked, looking into her blue eyes.
“Yes,” she replied, watching as he slumped to the table, resting his forehead upon folded arms. “If you don’t mind me asking… what were your plans for him?” He looked up at her with a smile.
“He is to find Meiji,” he explained, “so that they will meet the Keyblader together.” Sable nodded at this tactic.
“Ah,” she smiled, “they shall fight side by side.” Loki nodded. “I bet Riku won’t be able to control himself. He will go for Meiji, without a doubt.”
“And Sora will be left with Ryu,” he concluded. “There is no doubt in my mind that both will fall. The only outcome I am unsure of is the effect it shall have on Imari.”
“Of course,” she replied - she knew that Ryu and Meiji would not last long against those two. “But what do you mean? Surely, she will not be angry at Riku for killing Meiji?” Loki shrugged, heaving his giant shoulders.
“As I heard, she was reluctant to believe Riku’s story,” he explained, “about how Meiji lied to his family. She sided with her brother instead of Riku. Plus, I have heard that she is a sensitive soul.” Sable nodded.
“I heard that, too,” she replied softly, “I believe Sora complained about this to Kairi while they were arguing over Ikawa. At least, Furturn said so.”
“Precisely,” Loki commented. “You know that Ikawa told Imari that you were sent by Meiji… back on Lacus, remember?”
“And you’re taking it out on a helpless baby?” Riku asked rhetorically, disgusted they‘d treat such an innocent life this way. “That’s sick, even for you guys.” Ikawa shook his head, his blue hair waving.
“You aren’t being fair,” he sighed, giving a cocky shrug. Riku frowned - he was sick of hearing what was ‘fair’. “You stole Mikado away from us. You stole Imari away from Meiji.” Ikawa looked to Imari, who’d managed to pick herself up, but was too shaky to make a grasp at Taiko. “Hear that Imari?” He raised his voice, and she looked up, petrified. “You have Riku to thank for this. Better give him the thanks he deserves once we’re gone.” Sable grinned, pushing Imari out of the way and approaching Ikawa. Her footsteps creaked upon the wood.
“Oh, yes,” Sable nodded, smiling as she remembered the moment. “Once I had stolen the baby away from them.”
“Yes,” Loki replied. “She knows that Meiji sent you both. But, at the same time, given her nature…” He was mulling over this, discussing opportunities with himself. “I’m not sure she could handle the thought of her fiancé murdering her brother.”
Sable shrugged, putting herself into this position.
“I suppose it would not affect me,” she mused, moving to sit upon the table, her feet resting on the chair where she once sat. “If my brother - if I had one, that is - had pulled a stunt like that, I’d have no qualms about a loved one killing him.”
Loki did not catch on to this, but the loved one Sable spoke of was
him. Then again, she would not care about him killing anyone. He did it all the time.
“I think she will react with either extreme,” he commented, looking straight ahead to the portrait of Mikado - as if speaking to him. “She’ll either be overjoyed at Riku’s protectiveness - or heartbroken that he’d do such a thing.”
Sable nodded, watching as Loki yawned again. His voice had croaked with exhaustion during their entire conversation. She hopped from the table, standing at his side.
“I suppose I shall leave now,” she said, “seeing as you’re so tired. You need a rest.” He nodded, rubbing his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said, looking to her with a smile. “Make someone stand outside, I don’t need those fools bugging me at any given moment.” Sable nodded, trailing her hand over the crown of his head before leaving - walking away in his cloak.
~*~*~*~*~
It was only minutes before Loki had drifted off to sleep. Leaning forward in his chair, resting his head upon his arms, on the table, it was not the most comfortable nap he’d ever had. Nor was it the warmest - without his thick cloak, it was freezing. But, he was so tired that it made no difference to him.
Lost in the depths of his mind, it was not long before he began to dream.
Loki found himself in a barren, volcanic landscape, the smell of brimstone smoking through the dense, hot air. The unbearable sun beat down through a murky, greyish sky, the blazing heat baking all that lay beneath it. Lava ran thick, smouldering slowly through cracks in the solid stone ground. His dark eyes narrowed in frustration as he surveyed the dead surroundings. This place seemed familiar for some reason, but he could not think of where he was.
He began to pace along a path, towards some distant volcano, vomiting lava and solid rock into the skies. Perhaps it would help him find a way out of this place. Soon enough, he reached a deep, dark hole in the stone ground - a ravine. Taking a leap of faith, he simply jumped into it without second thought.
A thud echoed loudly as he landed, along with a small splash, as if he had landed in a puddle. The dark ground was shrouded in contorting mists, but the touch of his feet told him that the ground was slightly wet. Looking around, peering into the deep, bleak shadows, Loki saw nothing. Nor could he hear anything at all, other than a despondent, distant dripping. He stalked around this place, feeling suspicious - and slightly angered at not being able to remember this place. Then, there were footsteps - and not his own. Anticipating battle, he tied his long, ebony hair into a lengthy ponytail, stretching out a hand as if to summon his weapon.
There was a small laugh from behind, resonating gently as if at home in these shadows.
“Quit being so jumpy,” the familiar voice purred. “It is not in your character to be nervous, Loki.”
Loki’s eyes widened as he saw the form of the voice.
No, it could not be. It was not possible.
Mikado, stood there, clear as day - eyes gleaming, alive with energy. Elegantly moving towards him - almost gliding - he gave a smirk, his long clothing flowing gently with each slight of a limb. Loki’s eyes wandered over him - too shocked to speak - over his sharp, handsome face, his lean, yet muscular body, his carefully sculptured hair; and most notably of all, his bright, orange eyes.
“Mikado?” he breathed apprehensively, looking towards his older brother. He would not accept anything just yet, fearful of being disappointed. “Is that truly you?”
“Who do you think it is?” he laughed back, incredibly well-spoken. Without a doubt, it
was him. “I am here to advise you, Loki.”
“On what?” Loki questioned, removing his hair from his ponytail, letting his hair drop to his back. His brother was no threat - he was just overwhelmed, numbed to see him again.
“Battling the Keybearer,” he replied softly, intent to get a message across to Loki. “Sora.”
“I am fine with that,” Loki said, taking a pleased breath. Seeing his brother in the flesh - not confined to an artist’s brushstrokes - made him alive with ecstasy. “There is so much I’d rather discuss with you, Mikado.” He shook his head, folding his arms, hair glimmering in the very weak light.
“Do not be so arrogant,” Mikado spoke clearly, commanding. Loki would not dare question him. “For that was my downfall. Loki. There is no doubt that he will get through every last one of your men. You
will battle him. And if you do not shape up, you will lose.” Shocked, he widened his eyes, expression becoming fairly concerned.
“How can I do this?” Loki asked, his voice quiet, but echoing softly. He thought that, perhaps, if he listened to Mikado’s well-intentioned advice, he might get to ask this vision of his brother some questions.
“Do not dwell on what happened with Sable,” he purred. He could tell this thought haunted him. “Your thoughts are right; if you achieve your goal, chances are, you shall
not feel the weakness that comes with love. She can wait.” Loki nodded, smug that he’d thought correctly. “Don’t busy yourself with other matters, either. Focus on the task at hand.”
“Okay,” he said, giving a nod. “I suppose I could do more practise, too.”
“It couldn’t hurt,” Mikado nodded, eying his brother‘s muscular form, “make sure the other members do the same. And while you’re at it… strike fear into the hearts of your men. The more fearful they are, the harder they will work. Strike a few of them down yourself.” Loki agreed silently. Mikado’s eyes suddenly found his, blazing into Loki’s soul. “And do not, under any circumstances, underestimate him. Yes, he is a foolish servant of the Light. But he is stronger than you ever thought imaginable. It’s hard to believe, but someone so emotional and naïve as him is still a powerful foe.” He sighed dejectedly, but with a half-smile. “Look where it got me.”
“Dead,” Loki breathed, saddened. “I-I still cannot believe you are gone.” He looked to his feet, shrouded by mist. “Before I got the chance to speak with you one last time.”
“Sorry,” Mikado shrugged. Looking down, he saw his legs beginning to fade - and not because of the mist. He looked to Loki with a sigh. “I must leave you again.”
Loki felt a surge of agony in his chest, pained as he watched his older brother disappearing into obscurity. He was leaving again, and Loki simply could not take it. In a despairing attempt to save Mikado, he reached forward with an outstretched hand - which, sadly, fell through his fading shoulder.
“No!” he shouted, dark eyes widened with sheer desperation as he watched Mikado’s face slowly blurring into the looming shadows. “Mikado, don’t leave me again!”
But then, as Mikado’s eyes were left, burning in the darkness, the light of day opened his eyes, removing him from this torturous dream - bringing him back into the great hall.
Around him stood three members positioned at either side of the table. Looking up from his slumped position, Loki saw the three figures, then, the familiar portrait, and breathed a sigh. Looking to his left, he saw Kali, to his right, Orexein, and, right in front, stood a less familiar member. His name was Audax.
Not a member of the New Generation for long - and so, was not familiar with Loki - Audax was one of the weaker members. A number of the very weakest were kept in the castle, simply to run errands for the stronger members. He had a fairly muscular body, but it was simply for show - he did not possess much strength. His eyes were smouldering red, his hair jet black. He looked intimidating enough, particularly stood there in a lengthy black coat, but those who knew him knew that he was nothing to fear in the slightest. Many had commented he was too cocky for his own good.
“Are you alright?” Orexein asked, seeming fairly concerned. Kali nodded, moving closer to Loki as he sat up, rubbing his eyes, hands covering his face. He grumbled to himself as he tried to wake properly.
“You called out in your sleep,” she noticed, blue eyes gazing towards him. She knew he‘d be angry, so tried to sugar-coat their intrusion. “We thought something was wrong, so we came in. Sorry if we disturbed you.” Audax nodded, trying to add to this. This was, in fact, the first time he had
seen Loki. So, of course, he was not aware of his foul temper at all.
It would be the end of him in a single speech.
“Yeah,” he grinned, eyes lighting with what he thought was humour. Kali closed her eyes, knowing this would end in bloodshed. “You were all ‘don’t leave me, Mikado’!” He laughed to himself after this mocking impersonation, before seeing the burning glare from Loki’s expression.
Orexein took a deep breath, apprehensively awaiting the hideous sound of Audax’s lifeless body hitting the cold, tiled floor.
Ooh. Yeah, this had to happen sooner or later.
Explaining the way Loki felt was so hard >.>; It was trying to explain that he liked Sable, just not the weak feeling he had after they kissed. Their treatment of love was described differently, I guess… Loki was very calculated and precise when talking about romance, not like when any of the others (Sora and co…) were involved. Although I suppose Sable was a little more compassionate… *muses over this*
Uh, yep. ^-^; The vision of Mikado… oh yeah. >:3 And Audax? From the word audacious. But we won’t be seeing any more of him. Alive, anywhoo.
<3 <3
