Falling // P

[Nightingale]

Strong. Indifferent. Detached. Everything Maleficent was supposed to be.

What was wrong with her? Why did she care? She shouldn't. She shouldn't care about this, shouldn't care about anything, shouldn't care about the stupid cat in front of her with his stupid games and stupid tricksandstupid-

She took a step back. And another. And another, until the cold walls of the cave pressed against her heels. In those caves, everything that made Maleficent Maleficent crashed down, all but disappeared. Her heart lashed against her ribcage, lungs shuddered to try and breathe, eyes were still wide, wide open, deep blue lost and confused and so, so scared.

What was happening?

And he was speaking. About what, she couldn't tell. His voice, deep and British, was clear in the empty stone caves, but none of his words were registering in her. No, nothing was registering in her except fear, pure, unadulterated fear, gushing through her veins like a cold winter stream. Shaking her head, chocolate ears pressed against her neck, she shuddered against the wall, eyes still wide open and gleaming and scared. And she'd thought she knew him. She'd thought she knew him.

The caves grew cold.

Sure, they were already cold, but all of a sudden they became so bone-chilling that a small gasp escaped her and her svelte frame started shivering. The small exhaled of air echoed around the caves, with their tall, stretching ceilings and open mouths, almost as if they were laughing at her, mocking her.

Then air. Air, freezing and unforgiving like a gushing river in the middle of winter, whisked around her, pulling the last drops of warmth from her figure. She swallowed, taking a lot more effort than it ever should.

Her eyes, however, never left the black figure, now a stranger before her.

"Who are you?" her voice was so small it was barely an exhale against the wind.

[Loki]

Loki was falling, he knew he was. His personality was scattered, he didn't know which part of himself to grasp and hold onto. A moment before, he was too cold, too heartless for his own good. A minute before that, he was overly emotional. This brain was disbanded, and he needed to figure out which part of himself he wanted to be.

When Maleficent said three words, it broke him. Who are you? He pinned his ears, even though these words were ones that he would normally love to hear. It meant she hadn't figured him out, it meant she was scared. It meant that he was still overly interesting, unpredictable, and not boring in any way, as Sky had once thought.

Loki tilted his head up and to the side, his eyes a bit watery. "Who am I?" he asked, a bit aggressively. "Who am I? Maleficent... I don't think you want to know the answer." His back was straight, all of his muscles tense with stress, pain, rage, and sadness of who he was. His life bit together to form a strange picture, one of both elegance, and gauche.

From the moment he could speak, he was told that he was born to be a king, only to be pushed into the shadow of his brother's arrogant greatness. His brother, that stupid, witless worm who couldn't see a fly if it was buzzing in front of his face, had become heir to the throne, and Loki... well, he was filled with jealousy. Yes, he loved his brother dearly, but his brothers brash nature and cocky ways overruled love, and Loki could only see that in the dung pile of a cat. Jealousy became a key personality trait. Later, he was told his birthright was to die, and that his father was a monster, one the people who had raised him learned to fear. Confusion settled in, as well as pain, and rage. He grew so overly mad, that it blinded him, and for parts of his life, he had come to completely insanity.

Now he stood here. What was he? Who was he? He looked as his paw, the same paw that had given away his wretched curse and ruined his life at the same time. I am no more than another stolen relic...

Then his mother's clear voice rang through his mind. Always so perceptive of everyone but yourself. He let his eyes fall to the cave floors, his face holding no emotion. What was it that he had become...

Loki felt himself fall back, mentally, into what he used to be. All the development he had gone through nearly all disappeared. He went back to before he was thrown out of his home, before he was killed on that rock of a planet.

He said something so quiet... more to himself than to the other cat. "I am a king." His eyes suddenly darted up to look at the young feline before him. "I am... a king."

504 // do you mind if we end this soon because im not even sure whats going on and loki's personality is so messed up

© to Vel