Loki's Revenge

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Friends. Equals. That’s what Odin had said so many years ago when they cut their palms and mixed their blood. Brothers.

Drip.

That was before. Before Balder had come along.

Drip.

Loki gritted his teeth, and breathed through the pain. He remembered the way that Freya had looked at Balder – pure adoration. He remembered the smiles and approving nods of the other gods. And all for nothing.

Drip.

What had Balder done to deserve such adoration? Had he saved Asgard from the frost giants numerous times? Had he returned Thor’s stolen hammer?

No.

Drip.

Loki shook with fury as much as pain.

Balder had never done anything worth notice- just pranced around Asgard, showing off his own worthlessness. They called him the most beautiful of the Aesir. The fairest-spoken and most gracious. Somehow this had won him nothing but praise, when useful qualities- like resourcefulness and cleverness- had won Loki nothing but disdain.

Drip.

Frigg, Odin’s wife, always petrified for her son’s health, had made every living thing swear that they would not hurt her precious Balder. She had boasted openly to Loki of how willingly the creatures of the earth had sworn the oath.

Drip.

The wave of pain that followed came from the memory, not the poison.

Drip.

The Aesir of course had been delighted with their favourite’s newfound double immortality. They made a sport of hurling the sharpest sticks and rocks at him, and laughing as the deadliest weapons dropped to the ground far from hitting their mark, leaving the young god unharmed. Loki clenched his fists and the chains bit into his palms.

Drip.

Freya’s laughs, Balder’s taunts, Odin’s disapproval. He had had to do something. It had been all too easy to go in disguise and ask the clueless Frigg about the oath- had she really gotten everything to swear that it would not harm her son? It turned out that one small plant – the mistletoe - had been spared. Frigg had thought it too young and harmless to bother. That had been a mistake on her part.

Drip.

From there it was only a matter of finding a twig of the plant. Hours had been spent sharpening, filing, shaping the point into a deadly weapon. When it was complete, Loki had given it to the blind god Hodr and guided his hand- aiming directly through Balder’s unsuspecting heart.

Drip.

Loki had always been a good shot.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

He had paid for it of course – Odin had seen to that. His once “brother” had happily ordered him to be bound in a cave with a serpent suspended from the rocks above him. Its venom eternally dripped down to burn through his unprotected skin. It had been centuries.

Drip.

Despite the agonizing pain of the venom, Loki smiled. Balder had gotten exactly what he deserved. Though the venom burned deep into his flesh, the real wound had healed long ago. It was filled up with the pure joy of revenge.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

*claps* This was amazing. You captured the essence of the original Norse myth perfectly. I really could not find any real problems.

Question... will you continue this? Because as it stands now, it's little more than an epilogue to the original myth.

I'm glad that you like it
I'm worried that it might be confusing to a reader who doesn't have any knowledge of Norse Mythology.

I wrote this as a character development exercise for a different story that I'm writing, in which Loki is a main character. So actually, it's more of a prologue than an epilogue

Wow! If it makes you feel better, I have never heard of this myth and I enjoyed it. I think you captured the essence well. (I went googling and looked up the myth.) I can see it as a prologue to maybe a continuation of the myth. Either that or you can have this be a prologue and then tell the story of the myth, I can see that too. It all depends on where your story takes you. Enjoy writing.

Hello there, Nepthys! I see you're a fairly new member so, welcome!

Eh - that was my reaction to this. I rarely, rarely - in fact, never, respond well to onomatopoeia as overused as it is here. Saying things like 'drip' over and over again does nothing for this piece. It doesn't add to the atmosphere, it just becomes repetitive and boring, highlighting the distinct lack of atmosphere, in fact. Occasionally, I'll grant you, it's not a mortal sin to use onomatopoeia like that -- I did it once with 'click' but that was to highlight the obsessive insanity of the protagonist (I don't think it really worked anyway) but the difference was that I didn't rely on it, it wasn't so obvious and it (ideally) added to the piece rather than detracted.

So, you have this really interesting core concept -- Norse Gods always are -- and this really boring story. Why is it boring? Because your character is about as well developed as a pair of shoes in Thailand or like that simile just now. And, because this is the most passive kind of story you could possibly choose to tell. There's a guy in a cave, thinking about what he did. Oh joy. No conflict. No struggle. Just emo remonstrations on how he wasn't appreciated.

Eh. Give me a story with some ACTION. Some fun. That's what the Norse Gods are all about. You didn't even try to bring them to life in any meaningful way and the style of the writing isn't good enough to carry off something with as little substance as this. The lack of description, bar the endlessly repetitive 'drip, drip' is startling and is another reason this story has no oomph, no colour, no shine. Nothing that appeals. I like the idea, mind you, I just didn't like your choice of execution because all you do is tell, tell, tell, tell and you never once show anything.

Anything of interest is thus slaughtered mercilessly. Like 'It had been centuries' is a prime example of what I'm saying - bleghy line, show us that time has passed in a more interesting fashion than this. Ultimately you need to completely rewrite this, make it active, and interesting - you need to bring this to life because right now, it's dead.

Hope this helped,
Cheers

It's great to get such detailed constructive criticism!

Originally, I wrote this piece for a reading day we were having in Writer's Craft. The drips were originally meant to be a way of organizing the speed and spacing of Loki's thoughts. The drips would come regularly every couple seconds, and therefore when read aloud, the dripping would clearly show the changes in his thought pattern.

If this piece was viewed as a prologue for something rather than a standalone short story, would that, in your opinion excuse the lack of action?

Thanks for the advice

Hey Nephthys!

Okay, so to start off, I want to say that overall, this story wasn't bad. I liked how you used the onomatopoeia "drip" multiple times to make the sentences flow smoothly. I think it really added to the atmosphere of the setting.

However, the way you potrayed Loki reminded me not of the Norse God of Fire/Michief/Whatever, but of an angsty teenaged boy sulking in the corner of his bedroom. I mean, the way you portrayed him just made him seem so...whiney, and I really don't think Loki is a whiney god. Maybe you should man him up a little?

Then again, I think everyone has their interpretation of Loki, so who knows. Maybe I'm dead wrong. Or maybe I'm totally right.

>_> <_<

Anywhay,you managed to capture my interest throughout the entire piece,which is actually quite amazing, so good job! ^_^

To be a bit contradictory, I loved the whole 'drip' thing. At first I thought it was blood, but when I realized it was venom I was all, "Ooh! Cool!" I really liked this. I know nothing of that sort of Mythology thing, but this was fantastic. :}

Good job, and PM me if you ever want anything reviewed.

Love & Blessings,
Aushy