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Darkness. Hunger. Pain. Blood.
All other things had left him; speech and thought and every baser need, gone.
Just hunger.
Amidst the never ending darkness were brief flashes of bright light. Pain and blood and hunger followed, always, however. Satiation for only moments before the hunger surged through him again.
Trapped in his body, his body that only craved. His body that only pained him. Blood, the only answer, but far too brief and harder to achieve each time.
Brightness, but for so long, that time. So sudden and… and fear. Fear had been so far gone for so long, it was difficult to name.
Again, there was pain, but brief, before being soothed by a cool touch, the barest caress.
Colors. He’d forgotten colors after so long in the dark, after being locked in his own head for so long, inside looking out with no way to escape.
Horror; at himself, at the things that he’d done, at the thing he’d become, at where he had come from.
Sound. Sharp and sudden. Ringing through his ears and nearly deafening after so long.
Voices. Stern and rumbling. Loud and barking. Soft and lilting. Gentle and calming…
Decisions. Not his own, but about him. Something was happening to him. Something else he could not control.
A struggle. Hands gripping him tight, shouts of frustration, sudden warmth.
Blood. Soothing and horrific. Familiar. Terrible.
That voice again. Low, calming, almost gentle. No. Coaxing.
Like he was a wild thing.
He was a wild thing.
But he was free from his own head again.
Able to think. Able to feel. Able to… not speak, but almost.
He returned again and again. Dark hair. Bright eyes. Sharp nose and cheeks and… Soft hands. Gentle hands. Long fingers that stroked through his hair, that washed away the blood and the grime.
It hurt, but only briefly. He did not struggle, only endured until Bright Eyes was finished.
Swimming was harder than he remembered. He used to do it without thinking, without effort or care. Quick and smooth and deadly.
But now it was difficult. He listed to one side, heavy and awkward and frustrated. Gentle Hands righted him again and again, patient and kind.
Bright Eyes comes back in the morning with something that helps. A new arm. It is strange, at first, and it hurts as Bright Eyes melds it to his skin, but once it’s attached it becomes easy to move and maneuver. Swimming is easier. Moving is easier. Breathing is easier.
He cries for what seems like hours, but must be minutes and Bright Eyes strokes his hair from his face. Bright Eyes holds him tight in his arms and gently wipes the tears and snot and spit from his face when he is done. Bright Eyes whispers calming, promising words. Bright Eyes makes him believe for the first time in a long time.
Bright Eyes is named Loki, but he can’t remember what he is called. That doesn’t seem to matter to Loki. Loki speaks to him. Tells him about his day and what they can do to work on getting better. He doesn’t understand all of it, but it helps, the talking and the exercises.
Loki begins to read to him at night. He learns about warriors and wars and fairies and magic. He learns about family and friendship and love. He thinks he might understand love, but he isn’t sure. He waits.
Loki teaches him magic. He can’t do it, but Loki still teaches him. The theory and practice and idea of it. Loki shows him the things he can do; firelights and duplicity and illusions. He doesn’t like the illusions so much, but he still enjoys them nonetheless. Loki notices.
Loki teaches him more about illusions. How to look through them to see the truth. How to pick them apart until they unravel. How to resist them. Loki teaches him to defend himself against the illusions. He appreciates that.
He kisses Loki, like from one of the story books Loki reads him. Loki is a prince and he is a beast. He thinks maybe he can be a prince if only Loki would kiss him. Magic doesn’t work that way, or so Loki says. He thinks he understands. He doesn’t kiss Loki again.
Loki teaches him to write and to read. It helps. He is able to talk to Loki, if only through pen and parchment, but it is something. His hands cramp and get ink stains and he smears the words across the pages with his wet fingers, but he cannot keep the words in now that he can share them.
He tells Loki about all of the things he has learned, what he remembers before the darkness as it comes to him, what he likes and dislikes, his favorite stories and the ones that frighten him. He tells Loki about his friends and his family, what he remembers of them. He tells Loki… No. He waits.
He speaks for the first time. It is broken and hoarse and it hurts to do it, but he manages. He tells Loki that he loves him. It seems to be enough to change Loki’s mind.
Loki kisses him. Its the first time since he kissed Loki that either of them have made any kind of advance. Loki told him that it wasn’t fair to take advantage. He tells Loki that he wants him anyway. They kiss for a long time.
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