"Hate them all you like, they're still Father's subjects. Still Thor's future subjects." His tone was stiff and emotionless. He doubted that she could hate them any more than he already did. Though the truth was as he had said it - he hadn't done this thing for them, or Father, or even himself. He'd done it for Thor, and no matter how shaky his conviction was becoming, that fact still hadn't changed.
And he knew, as much disdain and hatred as he had for those people, they seemed to have just as much for him. That wasn't comforting either. He'd been told often from an early age that he had an obligation to them, by grace of his blood. That obligation was hard to stomach indeed.
He tugged his hand away from her. It was too difficult to sit there like that, with every other emotion washing through him. It felt like one more reminder of what he could never have or who he could never be. His heart gave another strange flutter as he felt the walls of his life beginning to close in.
This was what it meant, he told himself, to be the son of a king. The second son.
"Right and wrong has little meaning on this matter. Thor will have to figure that out eventually, though perhaps it's better for everyone if he takes longer. It wouldn't do to have a wholly cynical king." He couldn't stop the note of bitter hopelessness that crept in to his voice for that moment, then it heated to something like anger. "My brother does not let me do anything."
He slipped away from her, standing and taking the step to the small window so that he could look outside. It was tempting, now that he was calm enough to do magic, to just see if he could re-form his body into that of a bird and simply fly away. "I am not so useless that I cannot fight in my own way."
no subject
And he knew, as much disdain and hatred as he had for those people, they seemed to have just as much for him. That wasn't comforting either. He'd been told often from an early age that he had an obligation to them, by grace of his blood. That obligation was hard to stomach indeed.
He tugged his hand away from her. It was too difficult to sit there like that, with every other emotion washing through him. It felt like one more reminder of what he could never have or who he could never be. His heart gave another strange flutter as he felt the walls of his life beginning to close in.
This was what it meant, he told himself, to be the son of a king. The second son.
"Right and wrong has little meaning on this matter. Thor will have to figure that out eventually, though perhaps it's better for everyone if he takes longer. It wouldn't do to have a wholly cynical king." He couldn't stop the note of bitter hopelessness that crept in to his voice for that moment, then it heated to something like anger. "My brother does not let me do anything."
He slipped away from her, standing and taking the step to the small window so that he could look outside. It was tempting, now that he was calm enough to do magic, to just see if he could re-form his body into that of a bird and simply fly away. "I am not so useless that I cannot fight in my own way."