damned_institute | Night 65: M71-M80 Hallway

Even through the fog, Soma listened intently, hanging on to Lingormr's every word. He had a voice suited to storytelling, she thought muzzily. Piecemeal as her knowledge of his life before Landel's was, she thought she could see him seated before a fire, telling tales to a rapt audience.

There was a small smile on his face as he finished the story, like the echo of a fond memory. Had he told this story to someone else before, or was the story real? Probably both. Either way, it was good to see not all of his memories of his own world were unpleasant ones.

She was quiet for a moment longer. Then, looking up, "Did she ever find out who cut her hair?"

"She did," Loki said, laughing quietly. "She was far more clever than she thought. She could have been a great scholar if she'd wanted, but what she wished was to fight with the men, and that was what she achieved."

Because that was the sad truth of it. Sif had faced wall after wall to her ambition, but socially it had been still more acceptable for a woman to want to be like men, to be a warrior. For a man to wish to be like a woman... well, that hadn't turned out well for Loki.

He breathe out a quiet sigh. That was an avenue of thought not useful. "Shall I tell you another story?"

"I'm glad," said Soma simply. How much of Lingormr's tale was actually true, she didn't know, but he was clearly remembering something when he spoke. She had to wonder if the girl he was talking about actually existed, or if that was the part that was made up.

She offered a smile of her own, taking a deep, slow breath and gauging the pain. Tolerable, for now. Probably not worth risking another dose of ketamine.

She only hesitated for a moment, but the eagerness in her eyes was obvious, despite her exhaustion. "If you don't mind," she said, then just as quickly: "You don't have to on my account. I know you're tired."

Loki laughed quietly. "Not so tired as that. My hands feel a bit weak, but I don't think I could sleep now if I tried."

He thought of a few more entertaining, light things on which he could speak. Those seemed best. Now was not a time to tell Soma grim things.

He cleared his throat. "That same great house had an armsmaster, a one-eyed man who was an old soldier. He had no use for a girl in his practice court, and no use for a boy who was too clever for his own good. He was quite cruel to both of them, trying to humiliate them and give them bruises in an effort to force them to run away like cowards. The girl refused to give in and showed up every day, no matter her bruises, no matter if her arm was in a sling.

"The boy was not so dedicated. He didn't want to be there anyway. Instead he hid away in his mother's gardens and read books he wasn't supposed to read. Even as his brother and father taunted him constantly for shirking his duties. If he could not be found, he could not be forced to do what he did not want.

"His brother found him one day and dragged him to the practice ring..."

He hesitated, realizing at that point this story made it very clear that the boy in question was him, though he supposed Soma had already assumed as much. He snorted quietly.

"The boy decided that he was tired of the game. He cast a spell so that there were illusions of him and the armsmaster didn't know which to strike. While the man was distracted, the boy climbed onto the man's back like a monkey and held a dagger to the man's throat.

"The armsmaster had no choice but to yield. But everyone was angry with the boy, because he'd humiliated a good warrior, and embarrassed his family. He got strapped for that. But he didn't cry because he knew he'd won, and they never made him go to practice again if he didn't wish."

Edited 2012-09-02 20:36 (UTC)

She liked the girl, Soma decided, and by now she was almost certain she existed. And as for the boy...

Well, it was obvious now, though she hadn't been entirely certain before. While some innate part of her protested at the idea of shirking one's duties like that, it was clear where Lingormr's true talents lay. She supposed she would have struggled as much if she'd been forced to be a scholar of some sort.

And as different as Lingormr's combat style was from hers, she couldn't deny she liked a story with a good fight in it, especially when it sounded to her like the armsmaster was more of a bully than a proper warrior.

"The armsmaster should have learned how to confront enemies who could use magic," she said thoughtfully. "That was remiss of him. And the boy must have been very talented to catch him off guard like that."

Loki laughed quietly. "Well, in this silly land, magic is only the work of women. No man with a shred of honor to his name would willingly fight a woman. That's why..." he almost said 'Sif' but caught himself, "the girl had such difficulties until she made herself impossible to ignore."

He laughed. "Well, it's not very difficult to catch stupid people off guard, I'm sure. They're not terribly good at expecting the unexpected."

"It's still a potential threat," Soma said, frowning slightly. Lingormr picked things up so quickly here it was sometimes easy to forget just how far in the past he'd lived, formal manner of speech or not. "Y--the boy proved as much. If you have a good weapon, why limit it like that?"

Still, Lingormr's explanation went a good way towards explaining just why he'd felt so rejected for being a scholar of magic in his village. She thought, fleetingly, of afternoons spent in front of the television, listening to the lieutenant colonel explain the political maneuverings of countries she'd barely even heard of before she'd left the HEA. He'd always made an effort to include her in the discussion, ignoring her purpose as an unthinking weapon.

She closed her eyes against the sudden pang of homesickness. "Where I come from, it's important to learn everything you can about the world, even if you're just a soldier. You can't fight anyone well unless you understand how they think."

He went silent for a time, then laughed dryly. "Well yes, you and I both know that. But perhaps men who wish only to wield an axe think everything looks like a tree. It all bleeds the same."

He knew that to be true. Hadn't he been an enemy in the midst of Asgard the entire time? And none had been interested in how he thought, only that he should think like them. Loki fell silent again, then said, "Allow me to give you an example of the sort of attitude I mean. One more story."

"Once there was a great house. They were in a feud with a clan of monsters, hideous creatures that were wholly unlike humans. The parents of this house's families used stories of those monsters to frighten their children. There was a great war between this house and the clan. The monsters were devastated utterly by the great house's head. He went back to their homelands and sowed their fields with salt, slaughtered their brood animals and took their greatest treasures as his prizes..."

Loki paused, his hands stilling against Soma's hair for a moment, then continued on, "There was an infant belonging to these monsters that had been exposed to die, because it was a weakling. The leader of the great house found that mewling little thing and decided to take it home for reasons his own. With trickery, he hid that it was a monster and raised it as if it were a real child.

"But everyone knew, that there was something wrong with this supposed child. It was weak and unsuitable, and could not fit in with the great house, though it tried. As you have said before... it thought differently, and could not think like them no matter how hard they tried to force it to change."

Another long pause.

"One day the secret was revealed to the monster. Suddenly it knew, why it had always been so despised, and the members of the great house knew why always the monster's so-called brother had been beloved. They could not understand the monster, and did not wish to do so. Desperate, the little monster tried to prove itself, but the great house recoiled in horror and the monster fled."

He laughed without humor, his voice oddly hoarse. "So you see, Soma. This sort of thinking is perhaps in fashion in your age, but not in the days from which I come."

Edited 2012-09-02 22:01 (UTC)

Soma was quiet for long enough afterward that Lingormr could have been forgiven for thinking she'd simply fallen asleep.

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. A sly dig at the armsmaster, maybe, or a light comment to break the tension--but not a story unlike the others, about great wars and houses she wasn't sure she understood...

It was a metaphor, of course. It had to be one. A clever metaphor, wrapped up in the guise of a fairy tale, and delivered convincingly with Lingormr's not inconsiderable skill. But at the same time it was impossible to miss the tone of his voice, something so muddled she was sure her brainwaves wouldn't have been able to parse it even if she were operating in peak condition. Enough of it was real to hurt.

So then the man who visited you-- she thought, but didn't say.

"Lingormr," she said softly, "how much of this is true?"

He had wondered if maybe she was falling asleep and remained silent so as to not bother her. He was a bit surprised when she spoke again, though not of what she spoke. He carefully smoothed her hair down, not sure how to react.

He shouldn't have said any of those things at all, really. But he had, and to a certain extent it was a relief to have that out there.

Loki gave her a crooked, painful smile. "Don't be silly, dearest. Everyone knows there's no such thing as monsters." It was the most patently ridiculous thing he could say, in a place such as this where monsters apparently were quite real.

And there was the Lingormr she was used to, trying to laugh it off and only half-succeeding, if at all. Soma reached up with some effort, catching his wrist and squeezing gently, but insistently.

She couldn't say she understood all of what he was saying. It was difficult to, considering the story he'd told. But what she did understand was clear enough, and it explained more than she thought she'd understood about his behavior in the last few days.

"I mean it," she said. "Is that why you...why you left?"

He hadn't really expected her to be diverted so easily, not when he was apparently so mentally fatigued that he wasn't thinking nearly clearly enough. It had been a stupid path to go down, but there was not escaping it now.

Loki sighed quietly, then in a calm tone, as if none of this really mattered anyway, said, "Yes."

Gently, he attempted to disengage her hand from his wrist, thinking he probably ought to move away now. It couldn't be a pleasant realization, though he rather doubted she knew what he meant by monster.

Edited 2012-09-04 06:50 (UTC)

She didn't resist as Lingormr disentangled his wrist, but she gave one last squeeze before she let go.

There really wasn't anything she thought she could say in response to what he'd told her. Any kind of reassurance about his life would just be empty words. And when the alternative in a place like this was living out the rest of his life thinking he was someone he wasn't...

"Whatever they thought," she said at last, "I hope you don't think it'll change my opinion of you."

Loki had begun to shift his weight to stand, then paused. Really, he'd been expecting some kind of recrimination for having previously not told her the full truth of the situation. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised at such unwise acceptance, but he was.

"They already thought me pathetically weak and incomprehensibly unmanly, unsuitable as a second son. I think any further revelations just served to justify opinions already formed." He sighed quietly again, resting his hands on his knees. "Well, I suppose you didn't grow up on stories of the depravity of the Jotun," he remarked. "But were I less selfish, I think I'd probably chide you for being unwise."

But he wasn't the sort to try to argue himself out of a friend, that was certain. He had few enough of those to begin with. It felt very strange, though, a sort of painful tug that was unfamiliar.

He hesitated, then reached over to lightly touch her forehead again, knowing at this point that she would not recoil, and that was another strange feeling as well.

Edited 2012-09-04 19:40 (UTC)

Soma snorted. "I might not know know depraved the...Jotun are, but right now I don't think any more highly of the people who took you in, either."

Not that she could understand how he felt--at least, not well. Her own childhood had been spartan at best, but her superiors had praised her differences instead of finding fault with them. And she hadn't known any better at the time.

She settled gingerly back against the pillow, her eyes drifting shut again. "You were willing to help me, weren't you? Impromptu surgery in a world centuries after your own to help someone you've only known for a few days. That was brave of you, wasn't it?" A faint smile. "Or unwise, I guess."

"Do you understand why I was... reluctant to speak of it?" he asked after a moment. Of course the implication was that he'd much prefer to keep it a secret. The knowledge of what he was, all the lies, it already grated on his nerves. He didn't wish it to become common knowledge, and that was far more important to him than his artifice of being weak.

"You have been nothing but kind to me," he answered quietly. "Was it bravery? I shall take your word for it." He laughed quietly. "And it was most unwise, for you to ask and for me to agree to such a mad thing."

Soma nodded slightly. "I do, but I also think you're putting too much stock in who you used to be and not enough in who you are here. Nobody here is from your world, as far as I can tell, and even if..."

She trailed off. It was hard to imagine that kind of hatred, but she would've thought it would be obvious in any of the other patients by now.

"You have friends here," she said simply. "Even if some of them aren't very wise."

Loki sighed. "I still am what I am," he said quietly. He suddenly laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, the self-pity in which I wallow. But... having found out that I'm the... the m-monster under the bed, you'll have to forgive me if I'd rather just take my opportunity to pretend I've escaped it." He quieted down again.

Because that was part of the problem. No matter how much he might lie, he was always still what he was. But it was easier, with no one else reminding him of it.

"I know," he said. "And you have my gratitude." Perhaps Soma didn't realize how lucky she was, that he liked her, that he actually cared about her to begin with and wished to see to her safety. No need to spell it out, though. If she didn't know his capacity for cruelty, that was probably for the best.

"All right," Soma conceded, though a trace of her frown still remained on her face. Pretending to be something she wasn't had never come naturally to her, even after her own circumstances had changed.

It didn't seem right that she should be the one holding all the secrets, though. If Lingormr trusted her enough to tell her all this, the least she could do was return the favor.

"You've told me your story," she said after a moment. "It's only fair I tell you mine. I mean, if you want."

Loki was glad when she didn't argue any further. It was difficult to describe; he knew he wasn't like the Jotun, but he knew he also wasn't Aesir. He didn't want to talk about any of it, even without his preference to be secretive. Perhaps now, he could decide what he was for himself, without having others attempt to define that for him. And if he was to accomplish that, it was definitely no one's business what he was.

He glanced down at her face. "If you feel well enough to talk, I am always happy to listen."

"I'd like to," Soma said after a moment. She wasn't feeling much better, but she didn't really want to go to sleep, either. Not when she wasn't sure what would happen afterward.

It would be better, she decided, if she had something to focus on.

"There was...a kingdom," she said carefully. "It was a vast kingdom bordered by two other kingdoms, and while none of them were technically at war with one another, they built machines and raised armies anyway, just in case worse came to worst."

She knew there wasn't much point in fooling herself, and she'd never have a way with words like Lingormr did, but there was something about telling it like a fairy tale that made it easier. There was a distance to the words, as if what had happened had simply happened to someone else.

"Then one day the rulers of this particular kingdom decided that their machines were no good if they didn't have the perfect soldiers to pilot them. So they gathered all their magicians and told them to take children from the kingdom whom nobody would miss and turn them into the perfect soldiers. But none of the children were good enough, so the magicians threw them all away and decided to start from scratch. And they built a girl themselves who could fight for days, who could read her enemies' bodies and predict attacks before they happened.

"But something went wrong. Somewhere, they must have missed a connection, because the girl could think and hear other people's thoughts, but she couldn't move her body. So the magicians built another soul to replace the old one, a soul that would listen to their orders and fight for them without question."

The words came out more slowly than she liked. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain, and Marie stirred worriedly in her head.

He actually wished she hadn't felt the need to couch the story in such terms, but it was easy enough to translate out. And interesting besides.

Also, difficult.

Always, he realized, it was children. He supposed it made sense that they were the ones consumed and sacrificed, powerless until they were adults. (And often powerless still even then.)

His eyebrows went up, though he continued to stroke Soma's hair soothingly. "Two souls?"

"I wouldn't know what to call it even if I were telling it to you straight," Soma confessed. "Two personalities, maybe."

Part of it was a desire to stay distant from the things she was saying. Another part of it was a desire to keep things simple, she supposed. It wasn't that she underestimated Lingormr's intelligence, she just didn't think she had the energy to explain half of what had been done to her. Or to fully understand it herself, for that matter.

She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. "The girl didn't even know about the older soul when she woke up. The magicians had sealed it away so tightly she didn't even know it was there. So she grew up thinking she was the perfect tool, the perfect weapon, and she was proud of it.

"Only the officer in charge of her squadron thought anything might be wrong. But he never treated her any differently for it, and when he found out about what the magicians had done to the other children, he had them locked away and the whole thing was shut down. And meanwhile the girl began to wonder if fighting was all there was to life, and if she might be able to live like everyone else, even if she was a little different."

She half-closed her eyes against the wave of homesickness, stronger now than it had been before. "The girl never found out what had been done to her. Not there. It wasn't until she arrived here that she learned everything. And then the scientists undid what the magicians had done to her when she was a child, so the first soul in her body had a voice, too."

"Here?" Loki asked, eyebrows going up.

That was an interesting wrinkle. Though obviously, their captors knew quite a bit about them, a disturbing amount, really. He didn't like to think what might be done to him in that context, however.

"Do you think they were right to keep it from you?" he asked after a moment.

She reached up slowly, tapped the side of her head with a shaky finger. "Whatever they did to me brought her back. She's up here, in my head. Just a voice. She can't take over unless I let her. The fact that the doctors here were able to do that means they're further ahead than even the scientists in my world. Although I guess it's not a surprise anymore."

She hesitated for a moment. "Her name is Marie. But...nobody else knows that. Or nobody who's still here, anyway."

Senna had known. And she'd understood, too. If there was anything at all good about this place, it was finding out that at least she wasn't alone.

"It was in their best interest not to tell me." Soma shook her head, wincing a little at the movement. "A good soldier can't waste time wondering if she even deserves her abilities if someone else was there first. I was a tool for them. Whether I should have known or not didn't matter back then. I know now."

There was remarkably little anger in her voice. Even now it was hard to reconcile the immense pride she'd felt about being a supersoldier with the price that had been paid to create her.

Night 65: M71-M80 Hallway

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