Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hello all! 

        I want to set this first "chapter" as a sort of Index. This will show where different sections begin, and where different events can be found (or more specifically, where you can find the smut), since that's often something I wish I had when going back through fics I like! 

        I will also be creating a playlist for the fic as I go. It will be updated with one song per chapter, and the link to it will be here, and in the notes at the end of each chapter. 

        This is my first time writing a fic, so I appreciate both your patience, and your feedback! I hope you enjoy!

PODFIC VERSION AVAILABLE FOR THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS: 

Chapters 1-5

Chapters 6-10

Act One: MISCHIEF 

C1- Index

Chapters on their final revision: 

C2 - Treason

C3 - The Palace

C4 - The Welcoming Feast

C5 - The Dream (Includes themes of abusive behavior) 

C6 - The Interview

C7 - The Deal

C8 - The Captain of the Guard

C9 - The Gardens

C10 - The Warning

C11 - The Incorporeal Prince

Chapters on their first revision: 

C12 - The Queen

C13 - The Gesture (Includes themes of abusive behavior) 

C14 -The Thread

C15 - The Truth

C16 - The Offering

C17 - The Unknown

C18 - The Visitor

C19 -The First Burn (Chapter includes Sexual Themes) 

C20 - The Problem

C21 - The Shift

C22 - The Intangible Princess

C23 - The Refuge

C24 - The Uncertainty

C25 - The Release (Includes Sexually explicit content) 

C26 - The Fates

C27 - The Cell

C28 - The Awakening

C29- The Truce

C30 - The Consequences (Loki POV) 

C31 - The Commitment

Act Two: LIES (unedited) 

C32- Renewed

C33 - Touch (Includes Sexually Explicit Content) 

C34 -Departure

C35- Foreboding

C36- Stolen

C37- Prospects

C38- Change

C39- Gone

C40- Predator

C41- Frost (Includes themes of abusive behavior) 

C42- Regression (Includes acts of physical violence and abusive behavior)

C43- Tarnished

C44- Place

C45- Liars

C46- Ghost

C47- Instability

C48- “Diplomacy” 

C49- Serendipity 

C50- Skiff

C51- Witch

C52- Gravity

C53- Unbound

C54- Unbound: Mirrored (Loki POV)

C55- Breathe (Loki POV)

C56- Defense

C57- Pray

C58-Too

C59-Desire (Includes sexually explicit content)

C60- Promise

C61- Ouroboros

C62- A Dangerous Game (Partially Loki POV)

C63- The Pressures of Preparation

C64- A Little Poison, A Little Time

C65- Survival Amongst the Shadows

C66- And So It Begins

C67- A Gifted Moment of Peace

C68- Reprieve In An Unfamiliar Place

C69- Of Stitching and Sunsets

C70 - Lovers In The Dark (Includes Sexually Explicit Content)

C71- The Other Side

C72- Fate, Choice, and Thread

C73- For Fear to Thaw (Partially Loki POV) 

C74- Whether Here, Or Gone

C75- What Might it Mean to Be Free?

C76- Faithless (Loki POV)

C77- The Precairous Nature of Comfort

C78- A Different Face

C79- Secrets and Honesty

C80- Just Beneath the Surface

C81- A Problem To Solve

C82- The Next Step

C83- Home

C84- Agony

C85- Mischef Unmasked

C86- A Deal Is Struck

C87- Gunnlod

C88- Fen

C89- At The Current's Edge

C90- To Strike A Would-Be Soldier

C91- Pleasure and Punishment: Part 1

C92- Pleasure and Punishment: Part 2 (Includes Sexually Explicit Content)

C93- A Warning Only Shadows Bring

C94- Mighty is the Sword

C95- Forget Not (Includes minor injuries, blood, and bodily harm) 

C96- Blood and Soil (Includes major injuries, blood, and bodily harm) 

C97- Familiar Paths

C98- Like Glass

C99- Evasion

C100- Bitter Liar

C101- As Long As You Are Safe

C102- The “New” King

C103- The Laughter of A God

C104- A Helping Hand

C105- A Refresh

C106- What Boils Over…

C107- The End of Your Life (Major injuries, abuse, attempted murder)

C108- Meaningfully Adorned

C109- Waking Liars

C110- Asked and Answered

C111- The Whole Truth

C112- Questionable Coping Methods

C113- Scars

C114- Her Question

C115- Not Quite Yet

C116- The Worst Laid Plans

C117- Fraying

C118- Fraying (cont.)

C119- Through The Bifrost

C120- Alfheim

C121- Ashes to Ashes

C123- The First Frostfall

C124- That Which is New and Uncomfortable

C125- Engaged with the Enemy

Until Dust Spotify Playlist

Tumblr Page

EDIT: if you feel the urge to comment about how you do not like a canonically bisexual and gender fluid character being written as such- don’t.If you find the fic is not for you, then it’s not for you. From here on out I will be deleting all comments whose only “critique” is that they don’t like queer representation. It’s in the tags, it’s been in the tags from day one.
If you’re not gonna make that comment about a cis or heterosexual character, don’t make it about a queer character.
Thanks besties ❤️

Thank you all for reading! 

Chapter Text

You had walked the length of the Throne room before-little more than a week prior- but this was different.

        Much different.

        For one, it had been in much better condition.

        The pillars had not been smashed, there had not been an enemy ship stranded in the middle of it, there had still been a throne, and most notably- you had not been in chains.

        You wondered if the walk had always been this long. Had the stone always made your footsteps so loud? Had the Allfather’s gaze always burned like this?
It was all you could do to keep your heart from escaping out your throat; every step toward the dais made your blood run colder.

        The Allmother watched you from the foot of the dais. Her shoulders were tense, but she kept them low, her expression remaining steady. You noted her fingers, interwoven tightly at her stomach, moved restlessly. Her thumb and forefinger worked at each joint on her hand until they cracked. The sound made your stomach churn.

        Thor stood tall at his mother’s side, his armor every bit as ostentatious as you remembered. At least his eyes were kind. He held your gaze whenever you looked for it- all the way from door to dais. Shifting from foot to foot like a restless child, he offered you his best attempt at a reassuring grin.

        My father will see reason.

        It was nothing more than a kind lie, and Thor was a terrible liar.

        That particular talent belonged to another Prince entirely.

        At the best of times Loki could maintain a serious expression- but only if it suited him. Here and now, as he stood tall alongside his mother and brother, he could barely fight down the smug grin he wore across his face. It wasn’t the sort of look that would encourage the Allfather to spare his life, and it certainly was not about to save yours; although you did note he was not in chains as you had expected. Perhaps that was a good sign.

        Then again, you were still here- imprisoned and bound- dragged before the Allfather for a crime you had not meant to commit, accused of treason you did not try, greeted by two too tense to hide it, and another so relaxed you wondered if he might simply find himself a seat on the steps of the dais itself.

        You almost regretted that he hadn’t just left you to die. 

        The Einherjar at your sides pulled you to a rough stop when you reached the King. They forced you roughly to your knees, sending a jolt of pain through your arm which had yet to fully heal.

        You kept your eyes trained on the ground, your head bowed low. You wondered if you should pray.

        “My King.” You greeted- thankful your voice was not shaking nearly as much as your hands.

        You did not have to look to feel the intensity of his gaze; it felt as if he could bore straight through you even with only one good eye. Odin remained silent for what felt like an eternity before he finally addressed you.

        “Have you been made aware of the crimes with which you have been charged?”

        His voice echoed through the hall, seemingly bolstered by the stone itself

        “I am, my King.”

        The shift of the King’s armor and the sharp sounds of metal meeting stone echoed as you heard him move closer.

        “Your father came to me before he was sent away, child.” He said, coldly. “He begged me for your life- invoked your mothers name- and while I cannot deny we owe her a great debt; there are actions that I, as King, cannot allow to pass unchallenged.”

        The pressure exerted by the Allfather’s presence pressed you even lower to the ground. He terrified you- and rightfully so.

        Breathe. Slowly, deeply, carefully.

        You prayed it would help keep the meager contents of your stomach down.

        “Have you anything to say in your defense?”

        The night before you had thought hard on what you would say. You had rehearsed, revised, and rehearsed again; but now-as the Allfather loomed above you- your memory threatened to leave you entirely.

        “My king…” you began, your voice far softer than you hoped, fear tearing the very air from your lungs. You prayed your nerve would hold.

        “I have been fully informed of, and understand, the crimes of which I stand accused; and if I am to remain truthful, as I wish to, I cannot say to you that the events in question did not happen.” You swallowed hard. “However, I can say truthfully that I was unaware of what I was doing- of what I had done.”

        Tentatively you lifted your head, hoping that if he could see the sincerity in your eyes he might believe you.

        “My King, I am a child of Asgard and my love for the realm of my birth is as strong. You knew my mother; you knew her loyalties, and I am sure you know she and my father raised me to reflect the same. I have no grievances with the crown, nor any who serve it.”
Odin’s eyes flared with something unreadable, and you withdrew slightly. You cast a glance towards the remainder of the royal family, hoping for some reassurance, only to meet Loki’s eye.

        Loki seemed unphased- if not delighted. The man who had comforted you the night before now grinned like this was nothing more than a pleasant afternoon's amusement- a tale of mischief to be recounted under the sway of an ale for years to come. It tightened your chest into a knot. 
“I agree that there are crimes that cannot, and should not go unpunished; but I swear to you, had I known I was releasing a prisoner, I would not have done so.” You shot Loki a look, but he seemed almost proud. Briefly you wondered if you could get your hands around his neck before a guard could cut you down. If you were to be charged with treason anyway, perhaps some actual treason would make it all worth it.

        "I fear my condition at the time blinded me to many things, and I was unable to tell fact from fiction. My King, I do not ask that you release me without consequences; all I ask is that you take circumstances into consideration when I am sentenced.” You lowered your head once more. “Regardless, I will accept your ruling without question, my King.”

        Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments sending a chill down your spine. You lifted your gaze once more, only to be met with the simmering anger in the Allfather’s eye. Had you been too bold? Surely he knew his youngest son well enough to admit what he was capable of. He was no fool, but he was not a man known for forgiveness either.

        “Do you have evidence of this?” Odin asked, tonelessly. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

        “No, my King. I only have my word.”

        “The word of a traitor holds little weight, child.” He snapped. Your heart sank.

        From the corner of your eye you could see Loki stiffen slightly. The corners of his lips turned- his grin not fully fading, but the mischievous light in his eyes fading; confusion taking its place. 

        Good. You thought bitterly.

        If your blood was to be on his hands, you wanted to be sure he felt it- that he endured every ounce of guilt the nine realms could press upon him.

        “Husband-” Frigga warned; but the Allfather held his hand up to silence her. Anger flashed across her eyes, but she held her tongue.

        Your heart ached; she had been so kind to you, and you were thankful she had tried to intervene on your behalf, but it was clear nothing could sway the King once his mind was set.

        She cast a glare at Loki, who remained frighteningly still. You wondered how much she knew; you wondered if she had tried to explain the situation to her husband before the trial began. Despite how powerful she was you knew well enough that, once his mind was made up, he could not be swayed.

        “If there is nothing more, I have made my decision.”

        The tone of his voice was dark, and before he even spoke you knew. Your head swam; your vision blurred, and you felt everything in you go numb. 
You did not hear the words Odin spoke as he declared your fate. The rush of blood in your ears blocked out the cries of protest from the Queen and her sons; and you felt no pain when someone grabbed you by the hair, yanking your head forward to expose your neck. There was no fear when you heard an Einherjar draw their sword from the sheath; or when you felt the cold of the blade rest against your neck as they set their aim.

        The oblivion was a small mercy.

        You pressed your eyes closed tight, holding back tears. 

Lo, there do I see my father and mother
I see all my ancestors passed seated 
I see my master seated in Paradise
And paradise is beautiful and green

        The prayer came to you as if by instinct. You wondered if this could be considered a warrior's death. You had fought for your life, but not with sword in hand. Where would you find yourself when the blade came down?

They bid me take my place among my people- back to the beginning
Where tine enemies have been vanquished
Where the brave shall live forever

        You could feel the Einherjar that loomed above you, their presence feeling like death itself. The voices of the royal family seemed to blur together until they were overtaken by the ringing in your ears. Nothing anyone could say would change your fate now.

Nor shall we mourn, but rejoice for those who have died the glorious death. 

        You wished you weren’t leaving your father all alone. You wished you had gotten the chance to say goodbye- to apologize for all you had done. Would he be alright on his own? Would he know what happened to you, or would it be hidden?

        When the edge of the blade was lifted from your neck, you felt your breath catch. Prickling waves of fear raced across your skin as everything suddenly became crystal clear.

        A thousand memories crossed your mind at once, but above all you could hear Loki’s voice; how he had assured you the night before- how he had sworn you would be unharmed- but he lied.

        Of course he lied. What else had you expected? You could almost taste your bitterness.

        You promised…

        The breath left your lungs as you heard Odin call for your head. You wanted to scream, to lash out at Loki for all he had done; you wanted to strike him- but there was nothing you could do now. 

        The next few seconds seemed to last a lifetime.

        You waited for the pain of the sharp edge cutting into your neck; but it never came.

        Someone grabbed your arm tightly and you felt yourself yanked to one side. You collided with a familiar form as the strike of steel against steel cut through the air. Someone pulled you to your feet, wrapping themselves around you tightly. It took you a moment to recognize their familiar smell.

        Loki.

        Relief washed over you with such intensity you feared you would pass out. You clung to him, sure your legs could give out at any moment.

        There was an abrupt clang as the executioner's sword clattered to the ground. You opened your eyes to peer past the shield of Loki’s embrace. Where you had knelt just moments before, the Allmother stood-sword in hand. You could not see her face, but the anger that radiated from her was unmistakable. Odin remained still as he stared at his wife.

        “He cannot escape the consequences of his actions.” He warned. You felt Loki stiffen around you. 
 “So why must she be the one to pay the price? Have you lost your mind?” The Queen’s voice shook with anger. Her grip on her blade tightened until her knuckles were nearly white.

        “If that is what it takes, so be it.” Odin growled.

        “Of course that’s what this was about.” Loki hissed.

        You felt his grip on you loosen as he began to pull away. His breath shook, and you watched in horror as- with a flick of his wrists- he was armed with a dagger in each hand.

        You wanted to reach out to stop him, to scream, but Thor caught you by the arm, pulling you back before you could find yourself caught between the anger of two gods.

        “You knew.” Loki scoffed. His tone was bitter but unsurprised.

        “You knew, and you put on this little performance for what? For what father? To teach me a lesson?” he hissed, voice rising until you feared it would bring down what remained of the pillars.

        Odin stared down at him, unblinking from his place on the dais. Loki shook with anger, his hair untucked from its usual place behind his ear; his armor improperly set from where you had clung to him.

        Something about the perception of carelessness from a God of Mischief terrified you.

        Loki’s anger rippled in the air when Odin did not respond. He stalked closer to the king, twisting the daggers in his hand. “The people of Asgard are meaningless in the pursuit of punishing me, are they not?”

        “Brother-” Thor warned.

       “No! No, brother.” Loki snapped, “The Allfather seems to have tired of dealing with me, and decided - in his infinite wisdom and mercy- that he could sentence the innocent to die just so he might-”

        “YOU sentenced her to die, Loki.”  The King’s voice cut him short; so loud it made your ears ring. “You damned her the moment you dragged her into the dungeons!”
Loki’s bravado vanished for no longer than the blink of an eye. It was replaced in that instant with hurt, his foot shifting as he flinched back from the dais. 
But the moment passed, and with a clench of his jaw his anger returned. This time he had no words, simply glaring at the Allfather as if he could set him alight with his eyes alone.

        He likely could. 

        “You are arrogant, Loki.” Odin growled. “Do not think I have not noticed how you resent your brother's place on the throne! Yet you still do not understand why I chose him and not you.” His words were laced with venom. “This behavior is why!” He gestured to you. “A King of Asgard has a responsibility to his people, to all the nine realms, yet you cannot seem to pry your attention from your own childish games long enough to save one.”

        Anger simmered in Loki’s eyes as he kept them locked on Odin’s; refusing to give an inch.

        “You refuse to even consider that the life of your people would be worth more than your pride. You are no King, Loki. You are a child and a fool.”

        The silence that followed sent chills down your spine.  

        Loki’s posture shifted, and he tucked the errant hair neatly behind his ear. When he spoke, his voice was cool and dangerously calm. His posture shifted into stiff formality as he grinned bitterly at the King.

        “As always, it has been a pleasure receiving your wisdom, Allfather.” He hissed. “However, if this is all you have for me, regrettably, I must take my leave.”

        “I am not done with you!” Odin snapped, striking his spear hard against the floor. You winced. 

        Frigga had tucked away her blade, coming to your side. She whispered something into Thor’s ear before she set her hand lightly on your shoulder.  

        “Come dear,” she said softly, “Let’s take you to your chambers. I imagine you would like to get some rest.”

        You nodded, mouth too dry to speak. Thor slowly released you , and your legs managed to hold. The Allmother’s touch seemed to warm your body and still your racing heart.

        You wondered if it was simply her presence that soothed you, or perhaps she had used her magic to settle you.

        Regardless, you were thankful.

        She started to lead you back between the pillars but you resisted, suddenly fearful of what might happen if you were to let Loki out of your sight. “No, we should-”

        “He will be fine.” She said, cutting you off.

        She gave a nod to her oldest son.

        Don’t let them kill each other. 

        Thor nodded back, and you wondered if he truly could stop them if they lost their composure.

        Frigga took your arm gently, turning you away from the scene that had begun to unfold. She would not allow you to turn around. Instead, she hurried you back into the halls of the palace and towards your quarters where-if only for a moment- you could be alone, and safe.

Chapter Text

        As the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees; the skiffs arrived. 

        Four seemed like an excess, but you were not about to question the generous royal escort. Each was piloted by two Einherjar; their gold armor flashing in the early light as they dutifully loaded your family's belongings. 

        This was only to be a short trip; a week within the walls of the palace, and then you would return home to the comfort of familiar sights and sounds. It was not an opportunity you intended to waste. You had already spent a great amount of time and effort planning the things you wished to do and see while you were there- and many of your friends had offered their suggestions as well. It had kept you up all night knowing such an adventure was mere hours away. 

        Pulling your shawl tight, you stepped out into the crisp fall air. The colors on the trees had already begun to shift- their reds and yellows blending not just with the sunrise, but also with the blinding gold that adorned most of the city. 

        You were doing your best to remain out of the way of the Einherjar, but both the cold and your excitement made it difficult to wait. 

        “You seem excited, sparrow.” 

        You turned to your mother who had stepped from your home into the awaiting streets to stand beside you. You took her hand gently as she approached, wondering how long she would continue to insist on using the nickname she had given you when you were still very small.

        “I cannot help it.” You laughed. “You may have spent time in the Palace before, but I have not.” 

        “You have.” She corrected. “Though I suppose you were too small to remember.” 

        “If I cannot remember, then it doesn’t count.”

        “My child, If things had to be remembered to be real, then I would be living quite a different life .” She said with a sly grin. 

        You couldn't help but roll your eyes. The story of how your parents met had been told to you many a time; and although the story changed just with each retelling, it always included a few too many spirits, and a particularly ill-fated game of dice. Your mother was as wild as the winds, and she would not let you forget it.

        Your father, however, was not. 

        You watched as he trailed behind the last bit of luggage as it left your house, folded bits of paper sticking haphazardly from his pockets as he relayed his last instructions to your maid. He was a slight man-lithe in both frame and motion-but his face bore the marks of centuries of late reading and overly rich meals. 

        It was hard to miss that he was a scholar. He had been a devoted historian since long before you were born; relentlessly studying the history your realm shared with Midgard- even long after the passage had been closed and most scholars had shifted their attention elsewhere. There was little left to discover in the old records, but he was not deterred. 

        It was his fascination with the mortal realm, in fact, that had drawn him to your mother. 

        Her years as an Einherjar were as plainly carved into her features as academia was on your father. She had always been a strong woman. Her broad shoulders were always carried proudly, cutting an imposing silhouette. You had never known her as a soldier, however. She had retired from that service long before you were born. She left an honored member, well decorated for feats she had refused to describe to you. You did not question why. 

        The mother you knew was, in your opinion, one of the most brilliant merchants in the nine realms. Over the centuries she had secured routes and providers for countless goods needed in Asgard. She had met no small amount of success; and apparently she even often traded with the mortals of Asgard before the realms were divided

        It was that Midgardian experience they shared that earned your family a summons from the royal family. 

        It was no secret that the Crown Prince had become quite fond of mortals during his exile, and after the unexpected return of the younger Prince, it had been decided that relations with Midgard had to be renewed. Your mother lept on the opportunity to restart old trade routes and help foster diplomatic relations; and your father was almost beside himself with delight at the opportunity to record what Prince Thor had experienced in the once forbidden realm. There had been rumors that mortals had advanced almost exponentially over time- their remarkably short lifespans likely driving the astonishing pace. 

        When at last the skiffs were loaded, you were offered a hand and helped aboard. As the ship lifted into the skies, you watched the twisting waterways of Asgard unfurl below;  sunlight making the intricate paths they carved through the city, glow. 

        You were glad you had taken care to braid every last bit of your hair possible, as the wind still managed to pull strands from their place. You took care to angle your head correctly, as  they would whip sharply against your skin if you looked anywhere other than directly forward. 

        There, just beyond, shone the golden form of the Royal Palace. 

        Though it was never out of sight, the structure had become mere background noise for you and many other Asgardians. You had forgotten how impressive it really was. 

        Its’ towers rose where all the woven rivers of the realm came together, carving their way into the horizon. Sprawling gardens reached outwards, and the shimmering colors of the rainbow bridge stretched nearly to its door.

        Though you had tried to focus hard on the more anthropological aspects of your trip, you had been unable to ignore the romance of a visit to the Royal Court. Though your family was-by the smallest of technicalities- nobility, the life lived within the walls of the Palace was far different from your own; and you intended to enjoy it to the fullest. 

        It had not been lost on you that the circumstances that lead to your family’s summons were quite romantic in their own right: an Asgardian Prince, cast out by his father; forced to redeem himself on a long disconnected realm. Stranded, he had fallen in love with a Midguardian woman so deeply that he had been willing to give his life for her. A love between an Asgardian and a Mortal, so deep that it alone had united two long divided realms. 

        At least, that's how the poets had painted it. Many musicians and storytellers had already begun to perform their versions of the tale in taverns across Asgard- you found many of them to be quite good. 

        There had been nights you spent enjoying them alongside friends, indulging in your own fantasies of a destined love awaiting you somewhere in a long forgotten realm. Given how rarely you left Asgard, it was probably best that it remained just a fantasy. 

        Your friends, on the other hand, had quickly lamented that only one Prince remained unclaimed- and he was an undesirable partner indeed. 

        The reputation that followed the younger Prince made it clear he was far from the ideal companion. You could not imagine how one could live with such rumors surrounding them; but he seemed to revel in his infamy. As the God of Mischief, some unsavory rumors were to be expected- but these were something different. 

        Stories of Loki’s escapades ranged from small, and largely harmless pranks; to the apparent horrors he had inflicted upon the mortal realm. 

        It made you wonder what such a person was truly capable of. 

        Admittedly, Thor had inspired similar tales throughout his life; but his transgressions seemed to have been forgiven by much of Asgard when he returned. After all he was the Crown Prince- and when he had been cast out, he had only grown stronger and returned a hero. 

        Loki’s grab for power, however, had not been forgotten-or forgiven- by many. His actions while his brother was exiled and his father in Odinsleep only served to reinforce existing perceptions, and the stories had only become more alarming since. 

        You knew that neither Prince could be avoided. Thor would likely greet you as you landed, and you would likely be welcomed in the throne hall at one point or another. Many of your meals would likely be had alongside the Royal family as well, and what's more, your father had persuaded you to act as his stenographer for his meetings with the Crown Prince. You had agreed without thinking- largely because your father’s handwriting was about as legible as a newborns’- but now you felt the smallest pang of regret. 

        Perhaps you could find a way to assist your mother instead. 

        The landing platforms of the palace came into view before long. They were massive, round slabs of stone- each boasting the royal seal carved into the center. 

        Skiffs took off and landed around you, the latter quickly being swallowed up by unseen mechanisms that appeared to take them below the earth. The former moved much faster than the one you were currently seated in- darting through the air like dragonflies. You were sure the more tedious pace your escort had taken was nothing short of irritating for the Einherjar around you; but you were grateful you hadn’t been rushed along at such speeds. 

        Looking down, your stomach fluttered with excitement. 

        Despite your few reservations, you were more than eager to explore the palace and all it had to offer. As a child, there had been rumors that stones at the bottom of the pond of the Queen’s gardens glowed with magic. It had been said they absorbed all the magic she used to make the greenery grow strong regardless of season. It was a silly rumor, but you couldn’t resist the opportunity to find out for yourself.

        There was a sharp upward draft of air as your skiff approached the ground. Tightening  your grip on your skirts, you watched the soldiers leap into action. 

        So many already swarmed across the platform, and those from your escort seemed to fall into the pattern immediately. As some lashed the skiff down, others had already begun to unload your things, and two offered their hands as you tried to disembark. Your mother did so with much more grace and practice than you or your father, and she seemed frightfully proud. Quickly distracted however, she had begun handing out strict orders as to the soldiers tasked with moving your things. 

        As soon as your feet hit the ground you let your eyes drift skyward. 

        They traced the golden spires as far as you could manage without losing your balance- the sheer height of it enough to make your head spin. 

        “Good Lady Sibbe! Sir Hafir! Welcome!” 

        A warm voice boomed across the landing, calling out to your parents. You quickly turned your head to find the unmistakable silhouette of Prince Thor. If his colors of red and gold had not been enough to give him away, his strong figure would have. His height made him nearly impossible to miss even amongst the veritable forest of well-trained soldiers.

        He quickly closed the distance between himself and your family; going seemingly unnoticed by the Einherjar as went about their business. 

        It struck you as strange, but half a moment's observation made it clear they did not ignore him out of fear or disrespect. Instead, it seemed to be because the environment suited him so well. Thor seemed as if he belonged among the soldiers of Asgard; as if he was, first and foremost, one of them- so they regarded him accordingly. 

        The same could not be said for the figure following just a few steps behind. 

        You had absolutely expected Thor to greet you, but you were quite surprised- and perhaps unsettled- to see Loki striding across the platform as well. 

        He clearly shared his brother’s height, but there was little else that crossed between them. 

        Where Loki’s frame fit neatly within his armor, Thor seemed to have outgrown his long ago. Loki’s black hair had been meticulously set; whereas Thor’s seemed to move about as it pleased. Prince Thor regarded your family with a broad grin that stretched from ear to ear, but Prince Loki’s eyes seemed dull; trained on something in the far distance. The only expression on his face was a polite, and well practiced smile. 

        You had been convinced by the whispers that Loki had been locked away somewhere so deep that not even Heimdal himself could find him. Still, here he stood before you in the broad light of day. 

        Part of you was actually disappointed. You had heard many tales of the younger prince having eyes that sparkled with cruelty and deception; ones that hid a thousand secrets, and carefully shared a thousand more. A trickster well deserving of his position as God of Mischief.

        The man before you simply seemed irritable and bored. 

        Your eyes were pulled from the younger Prince as Thor welcomed your family one by one. You were amused by how informal he seemed; greeting each of you as warmly as long lost friends. 

        Naturally, your father set upon him with questions the very moment Thor paused to take a breath. 

        You were glad you had not packed your notebook away in your trunk sas you quickly pulled it -and a pen- from your pockets before flipping to the first open page. 

        Giving your mother a quick kiss on the cheek, you turned to scurry after the party that had made it halfway back to the arched entrance to the Palace. You frowned. 

        They could have at least taken a moment to wait. 

        You quickened your pace, folding together the corners of a few pages so they didn’t turn with the wind. You squinted as you tried to remember what little you had heard before they were out of earshot, only narrowly missing a few of the Einherjar in your path. 

        Unfortunately, you didn’t notice the mass of green directly in front of you until it was a moment too late. 

        Reflexively, you tensed; eyes pressed closed tightly as you tried your best to stop. Bracing yourself for the impact, you were slightly surprised when it didn’t come. 

        Tentatively, you opened your eyes. Prince Loki stood a few feet ahead, watching you carefully. Your brow furrowed for a moment as you tried to figure out what had just happened. Had he stopped to be sure you didn’t fall too far behind?  Was your depth perception failing you? 

        “Something the matter, lady?” He asked. 

        Though his tone was remarkably dull, you could see the slightest twinge of a grin pull at the corner of his lips. It was unsettling; like you had witnessed the smallest glimpse of the Prince that so many stories had warned of. 

        “No, my prince.” You said quickly, pressing your notebook to your chest as if that would cover the racing sound of your heartbeat. “I simply…” 

        You were unsure how to finish your thought. The way he looked at you made it difficult to answer- and frankly you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

        The silence, and your apparent unease, finally prompting the half hidden smile to slip across his lips. He gestured gracefully for you to lead the way as you tried to close the widening gap between the two halves of your party. Your head snapped downwards, eyes unwilling to meet his any longer as you hurried forward; gave Prince Loki a wider berth than you had consciously intended. He followed uncomfortably close at your heels. 

        It was difficult to ignore the way he loomed over you, his eyes clearly following each word you wrote from the spot he had taken, hovering over your shoulder. You quickly glanced back, hoping your noting of him would encourage him to back off. 

        That quickly proved incorrect. 

        Though you tried several times, each backward glance only seemed to amuse him further.  Again and again, he caught your gaze with his sharp blue eyes; grin spreading wider each time. You knew he could feel your discomfort, and the glimmer in his eyes told you that he was delighted by it. 

        Despite your best efforts, your irritation turned childish after a time. You soon began to speed up or slow down randomly, even coming to a dead stop a few times. You had hoped he would either tire of having to adjust so quickly, or collide with you in a way that might alert others to his behavior; anything to put distance between you. 

        You would have no such luck. 

        No matter what you did, Loki managed to keep the same, frustratingly close, distance- never once falling too far behind. You were sure that, to him, this was a game; and the heat in your cheeks meant he was winning. 

        You resolved not to look back again. If you just ignored him, perhaps he would grow bored. The steady sound of his footsteps did not waver; though a few frustrated breaths gave you hope that -perhaps- he was close to giving up.

        That was, until the footsteps suddenly stopped. 

        The sudden silence was markedly more unsettling than the sound of his footsteps had been. You whirled around, almost frightened by what it would mean if he simply vanished into thin air.  

        Instead, as you turned, you met his eyes- now crackling with delight. 

        Loki stood just as close as he had always been, his open mouthed grin making it clear he had been laughing at you. His cheeks dimpled, and he made no effort to hide anything even as lines began to form at the corners of his eyes. It was upsettingly charming. 

        You had to bite down hard on your lip to keep his grin from catching, and it did not go unnoticed. 

        “Forgotten something?” He teased. You opened your mouth, quite nearly ready to give him a piece of your mind- but before you could, he stepped around you, continuing after his brother and your father.  His footsteps were notably absent against the stone. You didn’t need to see his face to feel the smug delight that radiated off him. 

        At least he wouldn’t be hovering over your shoulder now. 

        Thankfully, your father seemed to have run out of immediate questions for Prince Thor, turning to other topics as he quickly roped Prince Loki into the conversation. 

        Of the many things you admired about your father was how easily his curiosity overrode the fear that status often inspired. He spoke to Royalty as easily as he did to his own peers, and the princes both seemed more than happy to regale him with tales of their childhood exploits. 

        You vaguely overheard something about a snake. 

        You decided your time would be better spent trying to craft some sort of map for yourself. Knowing your drawing skills would do you no favors, you instead did your best to jot down what you remembered of the turns you had taken. With any luck you would have time to explore the palace later. 

Left, 

past two halls, 

right, 

right, 

past one, 

left, 

past five. 

        You took a second to glance upwards; just to ensure you did not nearly collide with Loki again. When you looked back down at the page, you nearly overlooked how it had changed. 

past five 

        Your head shot up. Loki and Thor still seemed to have their attention fixed on your father. You saw Loki deftly step to the side to avoid being caught beneath your father’s arm like Thor had. He was not nearly as tall as the princes; and the way Thor had to hunch over did not look comfortable. 

You looked back down at the page just as a clean, sharp handwriting began to appear on the page added;

past five SIX

        You caught Loki glancing back at you from over his shoulder for the briefest of moments before he turned away.

That smug…

        You wondered if he could feel the hole you were trying to bore into his head with your eyes. He could, you were sure; just as you were sure he was delighted by it. 

        As you continued to mark your path, he continued to make corrections. Shifting numbers and directions so often you eventually stopped writing altogether. Unperturbed, the directions continued to write themselves across your page. 

        Part of you wanted to snap the notebook shut; to prevent him from continuing- but something in you bitterly accepted that you needed the help.

        So as he began to run out of lines, you turned the page for him. Of course you hadn’t needed to; Loki was already several words deep into the new page by the time you had flipped it into place. 

        Had your party not come to a stop just then, you weren't sure how much longer you could go without throwing something at him. 

        Thor had stopped you in front of a set of ornate wooden doors, and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

At last, your quarters. 

        The Crown Prince graciously welcomed you both into the small suite that had been allotted to your family. It had seemingly been divided into three parts; a room for you, a room for your parents, and a small living space that connected them in the middle. It was built from the same warm stone that the palace halls had boasted; Massive arches facing out towards the palace grounds and covered by beautifully intricate ironwork instead of glass. Sheer curtains had been drawn aside to allow the sunlight in and the stone seemed to harbor its warmth despite the chill of the season. Each room had its own fireplace and was furnished with pieces made of finely carved wood, silks, and furs. 

        You were relieved to learn both rooms had their own bathrooms, and you were quietly relieved that your room was so well separated from your parents. You never knew how your father could sleep through the snores. 

        While Thor led your father to his quarters within the suite, Loki continued to hover near the door. 

        He stood, his expression had returned to the strange distant one he wore on the landing. You watched his hands, fingers interlaced neatly in front of him, as he pulled at the joints of his fingers one by one. 

        It seemed a strangely anxious habit for such a confident man- but you had little time to consider it further,  for  he quickly caught you watching. His grin returned and your mood soured.  You had absolutely no intention of further attracting his attention, so instead you tucked yourself into the furthest chair you could find; giving him one last glance before burying yourself back into your notes.

        The familiar handwriting appeared almost immediately. 

        'Do you need directions to find your way to your room?’ 

        You could almost hear his smug tone as the words darted onto the page. 

        Head snapping upwards, you shot him the dirtiest look you could manage- but his grin went unchanged. Instead, Loki’s shoulders shifted back- clearly proud of himself. You wondered if you could glare long enough to knock the smile from his face, but he licked his lips absently and gestured for you to look back down at the page. With a sigh you compiled. 

        ‘If you prefer, I could provide you with directions to mine.’ 

        A burning heat shot in a wave across your face, ears, and neck. You could only imagine the shade you had turned. You heard Loki choke back a laugh. 

        Furious, your head snapped back up to look at him. He was desperately trying to keep his lips pressed together- not wanting to be caught with the same open mouthed grin as before- but he couldn’t hide the way it pulled desperately at the corners of his lips. 

        Something in you boiled over. He had managed to fit in a remarkable amount of irritating behaviors between when you landed, and now- completely unprompted. Were you not a guest? Was he always like this? 

        You didn’t know what came over you, but before you could take another moment to think, the pen had left your hand and sailed across the open air towards the younger Prince of Asgard. 

        Your blood ran cold the moment it left your fingertips. 

        What have you done…

        You braced yourself for his anger, convinced that -if you weren't hauled off to a dungeon first- you would have to beg for mercy for quite a while. 

        Instead, you watched it pass straight through him before clattering to the ground. 

        For a moment, the only expression on both your faces was pure shock; but his was quickly replaced by something frighteningly dark. His blue eyes were consumed by a flurry of emotions you hadn’t the time to fully understand- but you were certain that at least one of them was pure rage. 

        You wondered if this was how you were going to die. 

        Suddenly, it was replaced with a wicked grin that spread slowly across his face. You weren’t sure you liked this any better.  

        His shoulders rolled forward as he placed a hand over his mouth, trying unsuccessfully to stifle his laughter. It was thankfully quiet enough that your father and his brother would not hear it, but loud enough that it made your ears burn. When at last he managed to compose himself, he straightened his clothes, and with a quick, and irritatingly noble bow, he shimmered out of sight. 

        It didn’t take more than a moment for the pieces in your head to slot into place. Snapping your journal shut, you pressed the heel of your palm against your closed eyes until you saw sparks. It was all you could do not to scream with agitation. 

        What one person could manage to be so inexplicably irritating? 

        The God of Mischief. 

        You threw your head back against the chair and forced yourself to slow your breathing. You would only have to see him for the welcoming, and at meals now. 

        You could make it through meals, couldn’t you?  Surely if you ignored him he would soon tire of you. 

        Like he did in the hall?

        He was a grown man, wasn't he?  And you were a grown woman. Certainly you could act like civilized human beings at a table, right? 

        Your notebook forced itself open in your hand and Loki’s script began to bleed into the page once more. 

        ‘Take care to be unarmed next we meet- or I may insist you not be allowed silverware at meals.’

        A week suddenly seemed insufferably long. 

Chapter Text

        You retreated to your room the very second you were able. 

        As the door shut, you nearly collapsed against it. Your heart raced in your chest; having not slowed since the very moment your pen left your hand.

        You assaulted a Prince! 

        Putting aside the fact that what you had done had been incredibly stupid, it had also been deeply childish. To make such a massive mistake so soon after coming to the palace was the worst possible first impression you could have managed- and you feared you would not be easily forgiven. 

        Still, the way the Prince had laughed gave you hope. Given how childish he had been with you, perhaps he wouldn’t retaliate-perhaps he wasn’t bothered. You had to remind yourself who you were talking about.

        Never make assumptions with the God of Mischief.

        You figured that, if anything, his good humor should frighten you more. It seemed like he had deemed you a plaything; and if your distress was what amused him, it set a dangerous precedent.

  And you would have to face him again in only a few hours. 

        To be greeted formally by the Allmother and Allfather was a great honor, but you couldn’t help but consider feigning ill. It would give you an excuse to miss not only the welcoming, but also the feast that followed-but you knew your mother would not allow it. She knew you far too well- she would see through the lie in an instant- particularly because she had seen how excited you had been that very morning. You swore softly under your breath.  This trip was going to be exhausting . 

        You clenched your jaw as irritation boiled in your chest. 

        Why am I left to suffer because of his immaturity? 

        God of Mischief or not, you and your family were guests in the palace. At the very least, you had expected a Prince would welcome you with at least a modicum of decency. Yet, from the moment you landed, he seemed to have decided to do everything in his power to cause you distress- and he pulled it off remarkably well. Well enough that you were sure this could not be the first time he treated a guest this way. It was a ridiculous game, and you dreaded how long you might be forced to play it. 

        Though you would never admit it aloud, what bothered you most was that he hadn’t even bothered to torment you in person. He was no more than a projected image- something that could stand in as a proxy while he focused on whatever he deemed more important than you. 

        You tried to push the thought from your mind. If Prince Loki was to make your week difficult, you would savor every moment you had to yourself- and the chambers you had been given were a remarkable place in which to do so. 

        You knew the palace would be grand, but this was far more than you had expected. The ceilings rose so high the room itself seemed as if it were holding its breath. The ornate fireplace was large enough that you likely could fit yourself in it with little trouble. It was framed by a sizable bookcase that was, disappointingly, sparsely populated. A small side table sat tucked between two, high-backed reading chairs that completed the nook about the fireplace. All of it was varying degrees of reds and golds, each piece intricately carved and beautifully upholstered. 

        The far wall was not so much a wall as it was an intricate grate of ironwork; reaching from floor to ceiling and shaped into elegant curves that let the sunlight stream across the room. Punctuated only by the occasional column, it let the beautiful winds of Asgard wash freely across the space, and revealed that a balcony all your own lay just beyond. 

        Against each pillar was tied a curtain, pulled aside for the day, but offering the promise of privacy -and protection from the cold- when needed. 

        The very center of the room was very nearly consumed by your bed. It was a massive, circular thing- its wooden base embellished with gold and carved with scenes of conquests past- the history of Asgard contained as neatly as it could be in a comparatively small space. 

        The mattress itself was set deep within its wooden cradle, carefully made up with blankets and firs-both boasting the same warm colors as the chairs- that promised to keep the cold of fall at bay. 

        It was almost too lovely to be disturbed. 

        You forced yourself to turn away, knowing that if you allowed yourself to sink into it, you would be asleep in mere moments. 

        Instead, you turned your attention to the wardrobe that was stationed just near-what you assumed- was your bathroom. Considering you had not seen your mother when you entered your quarters, you were surprised to find your trunk had arrived before you. She had never been the sort to remain still for long, so you could only assume she had left to attend to some business of her own. 

        It did not take long to unpack your things, as you had brought only enough for the week. Your clothes were dwarfed by the wardrobe in which they hung- and arguably outshined as well. Though you had your own love for ornate fabrics and jewels, you preferred something more comfortable for your day to day. There was little point in wearing anything else when you spent much of your time climbing ladders to fetch books for your father, or running errands for your mother.  

        Still, you couldn’t help but regret not bringing anything nicer. 

        You thumbed through your dresses before settling on one of a soft yellow, the hem a band of white, embroidered with subtle but intricate patterns. With some carefully chosen gold jewelry, it would do. 

        Your hair, however, would not. You could feel the strands that had been pulled free on the skiff, and decided the whole thing would need to be re-done. You gave feigning sick one last thought before reluctantly admitting you would have to get to work. 

        By the time you had finished getting ready your mother had returned. 

        Stepping out into the shared room, you could see her seated before the table by the fireplace- papers scattered across it so she could view them all at once. She glowed in the formal uniform her history as an Einherjar had afforded her; the design mirroring the gold and black of the armor she once wore. You could only imagine how fearsome she had been then.

        Your father, on the other hand, had not changed at all-unless you were to count the few newly appeared ink stains on his cuffs. You could tell your mother had already done her best to rectify the situation, but he was a difficult man to clean up.

        As soon as she caught your eye, she began to fawn over you; straightening the sleeves of your gown, toying with your hair, and shifting your jewelry so that it lay against your skin just so.

        You feigned irritation as you often did, but the normalcy of it was of great comfort. Finally managing to swat her hands away, you took the opportunity to change the subject.

        “What is all this?” you asked, gesturing to the haphazardly strewn documents. Your mother beamed- always delighted when you took an interest in her work. 

        “Ah! Well, I managed to find many of my old documents from when trade with Midgard was more common. There is a great deal here, and I was hoping to refresh myself on what was most commonly exchanged.” 

        “I assume a great bit has changed, has it not?” You ventured. 

        “It has, but it is much easier to begin with old information than with none at all.” She shrugged. “I’ve given your father some questions to ask of the Crown Prince to help fill in the gaps-if he remembers.” 

        You could see in her eyes how eager she was to re-open the trade routes that had so long been closed. You couldn’t say you truly understood why. You couldn't help but wonder what a realm- so far behind your own in nearly every respect- had to offer. 

        Not long after a guard knocked at your door; having been sent to escort you through the intricate maze of palace halls to the throne room. It was frustrating to need an escort, and not to be able to roam freely- but you were well aware the palace had been designed specifically to confuse potential invaders. 

        In times of war, you were sure it was invaluable- but in times of peace you were sure it was no more than an irritation to guests like yourself.

        Having tucked away your notebook and pen in the pocket that hung from your hip, you felt at least mildly prepared if your help was needed. 

        You just hoped it would not be used for any other reason. 

        When at last the doors of the throne room were opened to you, it took a great amount of willpower to keep your jaw from hanging open. The space was daunting, massive in scale and supported by innumerable pillars. They lined the long walk to the dais; the marble floor beneath you set with subtle but intricate patterns. The same intricate ironwork from your room lined the walls here, letting the evening sun shine its colors along your path.

        The dais and throne themselves were impossible to ignore- not just because of its intricate form which seemed to open like golden wings around its occupant- but because of the imposing figure that stood before it. 

        The Allfather loomed above you and your family, Gungnir in hand as he watched you approach. His gaze was stern to the point you had to resist the urge to shrink back on yourself. If this was what it felt like to be greeted, you could only imagine what it felt like to be judged. 

        The Allmother stood at his side, adorned in beautiful silvers and blues- her countenance thankfully more gentle than her husbands. 

        At his other side stood Thor, still in the same armor he had greeted you with when you had arrived. He had forgone his parents’ more formal expressions, instead letting an unabashed grin shine across his face. You understood why- Midgard was his project, and at last the first steps were being taken. 

        To your relief, the younger Prince was notably absent. 

        The welcoming itself was quick- no more than an exchange of formalities- followed by an almost insufferable amount of polite conversation. Long ago you had learned to keep your face pleasant and let your mind drift in situations like these. Here, you were little more than decoration, and there were few options to stave off the boredom. 

        When you were younger, you had hung on every word- convinced that once you knew enough, you would be a welcome part of them. You were a fully grown woman now, and despite your best efforts, you were still relegated to the sidelines. 

        It was somewhat encouraging to see that Thor appeared to be much in the same predicament as you; though as Crown Prince, he was able to dismiss himself for the feast as soon as the opportunity presented itself. You silently begged him to take you too, but he took no notice, quickly removing himself without a second glance. 

        You chastened yourself for feeling slighted by it. 

        As time dragged on, you found your mind wandering not to the Crown Prince, but to his brother. You had wanted  to enjoy his absence, but the day played back in your mind anyway. You reviewed every moment; from when you nearly collided with him on the landing platform, to when he had shimmered from sight in your doorway. 

        You had every intent of holding on to your bitterness, but in hindsight it all seemed harmless.

        It was not.

        You could not allow yourself to think any other way. The last thing you wanted was to let your guard down around someone unpredictable- and Prince Loki was the definition of unpredictable. The sooner he grew tired of you, the better. 

        Still, a thread of curiosity tethered you to him. You wanted to see him again, if only to confirm he was just as much of a bastard as he seemed. 

        What threw you off was that he had helped when he saw you struggling to write down your directions. Or at least you think he did. It dawned on you that he may have simply given you incorrect directions to amuse himself- ones that would leave you wandering lost for hours. 

        You could not pinpoint what it was that made you feel that was not the case. 

        There is no way you could know.

        Truly you couldn’t- not unless you returned to your quarters and took the path backwards to the skiffs. That would have to be a task for tomorrow, as your stomach had begun to ache, and you hoped you would be heading to the feast soon. 

        Right as the hunger began to become unbearable, the King and Queen excused themselves. Unable to accompany them, you would have to wait for another guard- but at least it was one step closer to the banquet hall. 

        Your father approached you with a grin, placing his hand on your shoulder.

        “Exciting, isn’t it?” He beamed. You couldn’t never resist his enthusiasm, and smiled back.

        “It is. I can’t begin to imagine what can be learned from the Prince.” 

        “You brought your notebook, yes?” 

        You laughed. “Of course.” 

        “Excellent! I hadn’t expected an invite to their table, but it’s a wonderful opportunity, so I’m glad you planned  ahead.” 

        Their table?  

        You had missed that part of the conversation. 

        You couldn’t tell if the feeling in your stomach was just hunger, or if it had become dread- but regardless, you hoped Loki would be just as absent there, as he had been here. 

        The sounds and smells of the feast met you in the hall long before the banquet room doors were in sight. The scent of roast meats and rich sauces mingled with fresh baked breads and caramelized fruits. Laughter, conversation, and song were nearly indistinguishable as they echoed across the stone walls; loud enough to make your heart race. 

        It proved to be nothing compared to the energy that greeted you within. 

        In an instant it was almost overwhelming. It was far larger than you had anticipated- rows upon rows of tables sat filled with soldiers, nobles, servants and their friends and families. There were people of all ages shouting and buzzing from table to table as if a single moment of silence or stillness would ruin the night. 

        Firelight cracked from braziers, warming the room as it cast dancing shadows against the walls. 

        The royal table was set apart, lifted slightly above the main floor and guarded by solemn looking Einherjar. The King and Queen had taken their places, but Prince Thor was nowhere in sight. You were wondering if he had perhaps escaped somewhere else when his distinct, booming laughter cut above the din. 

        He was easy to spot. His height made him easy to see above the crowd, and his distinct silhouette was poorly hidden beneath the strange cloak he had changed into. It was not hard to tell he was at least a few drinks deep, as were those who shared his table. You had never seen Lady Sif or the Warriors Three outside of formal occasions- always stoic and clad in armor; but now they sat red faced and unrestrained not all that far away. It felt oddly familiar- like watching your own friends back home.

        You followed your parents to greet the King and Queen. Polite pleasantries were exchanged, and your father was quickly made to  promise he would save work for tomorrow. 

        It was for the best the Crown Prince had chosen to sit elsewhere,  for if he came within so much as an arms length of your father, that promise would forget his oath in an instant. 

        Your parents were quickly offered seats at the Royal table, but as you moved to sit beside them, you heard the Allmother call you by name. 

        “You could not possibly want to spend your night here, child. Not when there is so much life out there.” Her eyes were kind, and her smile warm. “You be spending plenty of time listening to your elders drone on- you should enjoy yourself while you can.” You could have sworn you had seen the mischievous twinkle in her eye before. 

        “I’m sure you can see my eldest from here,” she said, pointing to Thor who now seemed to be gesturing wildly as he recounted some, undoubtedly exaggerated, tale. “I am sure he and his companions will welcome you.” 

        You were a bit taken aback when she reached out to squeeze your hand, but you nodded gently, before turning away. It was an intimidating proposition. To be at a table with five renowned warriors of the realm was not your usual company, but the Allmother had so quickly put you at ease- and one glance from your own mother reminded you to do what you were told. Especially when it came from a queen. 

        The floor proved far more difficult to navigate than you had hoped. Most of the guests had been well warmed by the alcohol, having no doubt long since lost their sense of equilibrium. They swayed in and out of your path- and if this had just been a tavern back home, perhaps you wouldn’t have minded. However, this was a hall filled with those who served the Palace and the royal family. The quantity of people was issue enough on its own, but the number of soldiers who could easily knock you off your feet made the task that much harder. The atmosphere was charged with more energy than you were comfortable with. It was almost a relief that Thor’s voice served almost like a beacon over the shouting and clattering of plates. 

        When at last you emerged from the crowds, you quickly realized getting his attention would be a task all its own. There was no space between tables in which you could wedge yourself so that you were in his eyeline, and reaching out to touch him was simply out of the question. Instead, you waited until you heard a lull in the conversation to speak up. 

        “Good evening my Prince.” You had to shout to be heard, and yet you remained unnoticed. You raised your voice and tried again with no luck. You frowned. Surely you would lose your voice before long if you had to keep this up. 

        His companions seemed not to have noticed you either. It struck you that an unknown noblewoman approaching the future King of Asgard was common enough they had learned to ignore it. You pondered if the effort was worth it. Perhaps you could return back to your parents and claim you were unable to get their attention. You were not willing to reach out and touch him to get his attention, so if your voice would not do, what did you have left?  You were unlikely to be a pivotal part of any conversation, regardless of where you sat- so what did it matter? 

        That was when you felt a strange prickle of energy run over the back of your neck. Your hand clamped over it quickly, unsure of what you seemed to be defending yourself from- but as soon as you heard the God of Mischief chuckle, you had no need to turn around. 

        He slid deftly by you, and met your eyes with a smile. 

        You urged yourself to smile back, but could not quite bring yourself to do so. You felt remarkably frozen with his eyes on you, and he seemed too amused by it to release you, even as he leaned in to whisper something in his brother's ear. 

        Thor whirled around and clapped his hand on your shoulder, finally breaking the spell. 

        “My good Lady! Have you come to join us?” He grinned, face bright as ever- but thoroughly reddened by the alcohol. 

        “I do not mean to impose my Prince, I simply wished to convey my thanks. You and your family have been generous with your hospitality.” You curtsied low, falling back on court niceties to hide your unease. Normally you could not stand such things. To you, they were a set of rules crafted under the assumption that the best way to get what you  wanted was to never say what they meant at all. Instead, you must dance around it, hoping to convince someone else it was their idea. At the moment, however, they were at least a rock you could hold to. 

        As you bowed your head politely, you could have sworn you could hear Loki roll his eyes. 

        The prince’s companions  had hardly turned their heads to take note of you- still locked in their own world of challenges and war stories. They seemed comfortable; as if the court rules did not apply to them- at least not here and now. You were admittedly envious. 

        “Well I am thankful you and your family have come. Though the bifrost has yet to be restored to its former glory, these early preparations will make the difference in reconnecting Midgard with the other nine realms.” Thor was pleasantly genuine; but you wondered how much he was truly concerned about linking all of Midgard with the nine - or if perhaps he was more interested in creating a link with one Midgardian in particular. 

        Long ago, the path to Midgard had been sealed to protect mortals so that more powerful races like the Jotun could not harm them again. Now the bifrost had been broken and the bridge shattered to stop the Jotun from being decimated by its power. It seemed too easy for the frost giants to take advantage of the crown’s renewed interest in the mortal realm- to target it for the sake of revenge. The Crown Prince himself had been the one to break it, so you could only hope he had thought through that particular risk. 

        Jotenheim was not the only threat to Midgard, though. The blue eyes that watched you so intently were just as much of a danger to them as any frost giant. 

        You remembered clearly when the King and Queen announced the loss of their youngest son. Though details had been sparse, it had been implied he had been killed while defending Asgard- inadvertently lost over the edge of the rainbow bridge. Asgard had mourned for a long time, until whispers suggesting he had been the one to let the Jotun into the realm in the first place began to spread. 

        When Thor returned from Midgard with his brother in chains, the stories only worsened. Whispers of horrible atrocities spread like wildfire- telling of unspeakable brutality, torture and war brought own upon a helpless realm. The stories of the Allfather’s rage had been more than just whispers-and given Prince Loki still lived- so were the claims that the Allmother had bargained to save him from the King’s wrath. 

        It did not slip your notice, however, that those same whispers claimed that he had been locked deep within the royal prisons. 

        Instead, here he was, seated at the far end of the table, calm and restrained. He looked almost happy, you thought.

        Almost. 

        Though you could not tell it now, Loki had been just as close with Warriors three as Thor- and by all accounts, much closer than his brother with Lady Sif.

        Despite his apparent freedoms, he had lost any trust he may have had from the ones he had once called friends- and it seemed to bind him tighter than any chain. He barely spoke, and you doubted anyone would listen if he had. Still, you watched as he smiled and did his best to smile and seem relaxed, but his eyes wandered often. 

        You did not fully realize you had been staring at him until he shifted his head so his eyes might catch yours.  You felt your cheeks grow hot as a now familiar wicked grin pulled at his lips. 

        “Brother?” Loki called, his voice rising easily above the crowd. “Are you going to make the poor woman stand all night?” 

        “What?” Thor responded, seemingly genuinely confused. 

        Loki sighed. “Lady, have you found yourself a table?” Though he addressed you, his eyes did not leave his brother.

        “No, my Lord, I have not but…” 

        “See?” Loki said with a pointed sweep of his arm. “She has come to join us and you have left her with nowhere to sit.” 

        “Surely she’s not so weak that a few moments on her feet would ruin her.” Quipped Lady Sif. It was quite clear whatever argument was rising here had little-if anything- to do with you. Still, you never much cared to be spoken for.

        “Surely we’re not so uncivilized that we would not consider offering her the choice?” Loki snapped back. 

        “ She can speak for herself.” 

        You felt the words come more sharply than you had intended- but to your surprise it only seemed to earn you approving grins from Loki and Sif. 

        “While I appreciate your concern,” you continued, “you need not accommodate me. While I would welcome the chance to join you, I am also content with where I am already seated.” 

        The lie came smoothly, but by the way Loki’s eyebrow raised, you could tell it hadn’t gone unnoticed. A grin pulled at the corner of his lips

        “Fantastic.” Loki purred. “Then you will sit here.” His long fingers unfurled, gesturing to the chair across from him. Your stomach sank. Of course you would end up with him-the other end of the table had been filled; there was nowhere else to be. 

        You pressed your lips into a tight smile. “Thank you, my Prince.” 

        “Mmm.” He murmured with a nod- ignoring you to instead call over a nearby servant- who quickly returned to set  a full plate and glass in front of you. 

        The smell was admittedly divine. The meal had been striking just to smell just as you had wandered the hall, but now with it in front of you?

        When did I last eat?  

        It had to have been that morning before you left. No wonder you found it so enticing. Even the glass of honey wine seemed like a rare treat in the glow of the candlelight. You consumed it quickly, not only glad to finally sate your hunger; but also glad for the distraction from your dining companion. 

        You could feel Loki’s gaze boring into you from across the table. You bit your lip, not willing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he unsettled you. Instead you took a moment to fathom your glass of mead. 

        A mistake, you were sure- but you would take what you could get. 

        At last, he returned his attention to the conversation at the other end of the table, and you let out a sigh; but that relief was short lived. 

        The wine kicked in quickly, and as you felt the slight haze you were grateful it took away some of the anxiety that had built up within you. That was, until you started to feel your notebook move inside your pocket. Horrified, your hands desperately tried to hold the thing still. You could feel the pages trying to rustle themselves free of your grip- it was a terrible sensation. 

        You lifted your head quickly, a scowl on your face, but Loki was no longer looking. He had pushed his chair back from the table, now nearly halfway reclined, his long hair pushed back around his shoulders as he engrossed himself in the tales of valor you had no doubt he had heard many times before.

        Thankfully, the rustling stopped- and you decided it would be easier to just let things be. 

        It was your turn now to watch him closely. At first it felt strange to see him so relaxed- laughing and listening happily to the stories the group shared. It was almost enough to make you wonder if the distance between him and the rest of the table was imagined- but it didn’t take long to see the cracks.

        The way the others sat seemed to close him out of the circle- only welcoming him back in when he was to be the but of a joke. 

        He handled it with good humor, but that grace slowly dwindled throughout the night. 

        Servants who seemed quick to replenish the drinks and plates of each of everyone else in the hall, did not once seem to consider doing the same for Loki. A few took a moment to offer a polite bow, but as soon as he gave them a nod, they would scurry off to safety as quickly as they could. 

        Now and then you caught him casting sidelong glances at you, demanding you pull your notebook from your pocket. Each time you returned your eyes to your food and drink, childishly pretending you didn’t see. When they were both empty, you resorted to tracing the lines of the wood grain, just to keep your eyes away from his. 

        You nearly screamed when letters began to burn themselves into the table beneath your fingers. It crackled as it burned its way into place, brought to be by a green glimmer of flame. 

        ‘ I’m curious how many more drinks do you think it will take to make me disappear.’

        You stared at it, dumbfounded; quickly throwing your arm over the burning letters in an effort to hide them. You realized a moment too late that by luck, the smoldering green remnants of the spell were not hot, but remarkably cold. You couldn’t imagine how you would have felt to have those words burned into your arm. 

        You looked up, quite ready to yell at him from across the table; to insist he leave you alone, and to call him a number of names you likely should not. However when you lifted your eyes you were startled by how much closer he was than you had anticipated. 

        No longer was he pushed back from the table with his side to you. His chair had been tucked back into place so he could face you properly. He leaned in, resting on his elbows so that he could shrink the previous three or four foot distance between you,  all the way down to one. 

        You pulled back so quickly you nearly lost your balance. 

        You immediately felt your cheeks grow hot when you met his eyes. You had anticipated the same taunting gaze he had used to torture you all day- but instead his expression was almost pitying and gentle. You noted against your will that, while perhaps lighter than you remembered, his eyes were a very lovely shade of blue. 

        Perhaps he had a point - maybe you had over indulged. 

        He seemed to wait patiently for a response- his face oddly still; and frankly unreadable in your present condition. You felt the journal rustle in your pockets again. 

        "Oh fine ” You grumbled under your breath, fishing it-and your pen-from their place. You opened a blank page at the very back of the book and left it open on the table, slapping the pen down on top of it pointedly. 

        The slightest hint of a grin toyed at the corner of his lips, but as he watched your expression sour he graciously tried to stifle it. 

        Instead of reaching for the pen, he leaned back in his chair to watch you closely. The now intensely familiar thin, sharp writing began to sink into the pages once again. 

        ‘ Much easier than shouting, don't you think?’ You could hear his smug tone in every word. You opened your mouth to argue, but he instead pointed you down to the page once more.

        ‘ I would prefer you respond here. I have no intention of ruining my voice for the sake of one conversation. I would advise you to consider doing the same.’

        You snatched up your pen and pulled the notebook back to you, hiding it behind your arm as you wrote. 

        ‘ I appreciate your concern, my Prince. Perhaps it would be easier if we just enjoyed the atmosphere instead. You are under no obligation to entertain me. ‘

        Out of the corner of your eye you caught a grin spreading across his face as you wrote. It made the heat rise in your cheeks once more. Before you could raise your head or move your arm, his reply began to form.

        ‘ Perhaps I wish for you to entertain me, instead.’

        You flushed so deep you were sure it went all the way down to your shoulders. 

        You desperately tried to think of something to say that might make him just as uneasy; but your head swam from the drink. You could think of nothing. 

        You hastily scratched down the first thing that came to mind. 

        ‘Alas, I am not much of an entertainer; but perhaps if you have a specific request I could consider it.” You punctuated it with emphasis, shooting him a bold glare.

        ‘Are you allowing me to choose?’  The wide grin broke free from the last bit of restraint he cared to exert.

        ‘ Tell me, would you sing if I asked? Or perhaps dance? I’m sure there must be a poem or two tucked away in here I could convince you to recite’ 

        You felt the pages flutter as if he had begun to thumb through the pages. You slapped your hand down to keep them from turning; though you  suspected he could likely read every last word you had written- regardless of if the pages were visible or not. 

        Whatever you would like, my lord.’ You realized your mistake the moment your hand left the page. You swore softly. 

        His eyes glimmered with delight as he took a moment to study you. You didn’t care to know the things that were likely passing through his mind. 

        ‘Within reason.’ you amended. 

        ‘ I promise you will find me to be nothing less than perfectly reasonable’ 

        You scoffed. 

        You watched his brow raise high. Though he made an effort to look scolding, there was little he could do to hide the amusement in his eyes. ‘ Drink does not flatter you, good lady’ 

        You refused to dignify that with a response. 

        ‘ I don't think I care for half hearted performances of any kind ‘ the writing continued, ‘ and given your state, hoping for something half hearted may be a bit too optimistic.’ 

        For a moment you had the urge to defend yourself; but realizing this could let you off the hook, you kept your mouth shut instead. 

        ‘ Given how deeply my state seems to have perturbed you, perhaps it is best I retire to my quarters.’

        ‘I am inclined to agree.’ he responded ‘I will take you’ 

        Before you could protest, he rose from his chair and moved to whisper something in his brother’s ear. Thor looked at you and shouted down the table. 

        “My brother tells me you've taken to the mead far too well, my lady!!”

        Loki’s shoulders fell, and he massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 

        “The halls are far too easy to get lost in, so Loki will escort you!” He said, clapping his brother hard on the back. Thor’s face was bright, as if he had somehow masterfully delegated the situation. You couldn’t help but smile back at him. He wasn’t quite what you had expected a future king to be - but you found his good humor comforting. 

        You slowly rose from your seat, wondering if there was any way to avoid being alone with the younger prince. As you made your way to the front of the table, you felt a hand on the small of your back. You turned as Fandral rose to quickly whisper in your ear. 

        “Not to worry, good lady.” He said with a wry grin. “The beast has been thoroughly declawed.” 

        The last few traces of good humor vanished from the younger prince’s face. He had clearly heard, and Fandral clearly knew. 

        “Isn’t that right, Loki?” he called across the table. 

        Something burned behind his eyes for half a moment before he quashed it, but Fandral had noticed, and simply nodded his head mockingly.

        The air bristled for a moment, but you soon felt Fandral step away as  Loki returned his condescension with a smug nod. Gesturing for you to follow, he turned to quickly make his way to the exit.

        “Best not to dwell on it my good man!” Fandril called after. 

        Loki did not falter or slow for even a moment, pressing past the few who had turned their heads to look on. You could hear Thor’s tone half heartedly joining in. You found yourself strangely disappointed. 

        He wove through the crowds far more deftly than you were able to, but his height and dark hair set him apart- made him easy to follow. At the door he stopped and waited for you to catch up before ushering you through as quickly as possible. You regarded him with suspicion as you passed. It seemed to brighten the darkness Fandril’s comments had left in his eyes. You felt your shoulders relax. 

        “The palace wines were far more potent than I had expected.” You muttered, unsure if you were trying to convince him of something, or yourself. 

        He responded with a distracted hum. You turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, looking back into the hall. His eyes seemed intently focused on something, though you could not tell what.

        “Is something the matter-” 

        The sharp sound of shattering glass cut you off. You jumped, quickly pushing to your toes to try and see what had happened. 

        The crowds had parted just enough that you could see Farandral with his arm outstretched, and Thor soaked with his drink. 

        Your brow wrinkled as you turned to Loki. He stood taller, his shoulders pushed almost imperceptibly back, and the hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. His eyes shifted to catch yours. The apparent question in your expression only served to amuse him further 

        What did you do? 

        He forced a look of feigned disinterest across his face, but could not manage to push the delight from his eyes. He seemed to ponder how to respond to you for a moment, lips parting for an instant before closing once more. 

         It’s like you could watch him spin the lie in his head. 

        “My Prince?” If he was going to lie to you regardless, you preferred he do it sooner than later. It threw you off guard when, instead, he regarded you with something akin to warmth. 

        He beamed at you with a smile so wide it wrinkled his nose.. 

        “Best not to dwell on it.” He said coyly, before quickly turning on his heels and striding confidently away from the feast.

Chapter Text

        You had to move at more than double your usual pace to keep up with him. 

        It was clear that Loki was frightfully pleased with himself, and it quashed any doubt you might have had that he was responsible for the altercation between Fandril and Thor- though you could not say how.

        When you finally found yourself alongside him, you studied him with great suspicion. Though he did not look at you, his smile only seemed to widen.

        “Something confusing you, my lady?” He asked, playfully.

        “You'll have to forgive me, my Prince.” You replied, hoping you sounded nonchalant. “I simply find myself surprised by Fandril’s actions.” Loki did not reply, but instead looked to you with an eyebrow raised. “To lash out at your brother like that- seemingly unprompted- seems out of character for him.” 

        “I was unaware the two of you were so well acquainted.” Loki smirked. 

        “I am… familiar with the stories.” You said, ears burning somewhat. 

        “Regrettably,” he chided. “Not everyone is accurately reflected in the stories others tell of them.” 

        Ah.  

        The many stories you had heard of your current walking companion came quickly to mind. While he was more irritating than you had anticipated- he was not nearly as cruel as you might have thought. At least not yet. Averting your gaze, you slowed in hopes of falling behind- but he simply turned, walking just as swiftly backwards as he had forwards. You were unable to stifle a bitter glance, but he just lifted his chin proudly- continuing to observe you down the line of his nose.

        “Again, you must forgive me. I simply struggled to understand how a swordsman would lose his grasp on his glass.” 

        “As of late,” he mused “I’ve begun to notice that-when people are upset- things seem to simply fly out of their hands.” With a wry grin and a turn of his hand, you felt a strange pressure just above your ear. Your hand flashed to it with a start, only to realize your pen had been tucked there neatly. 

        You tried to turn away to hide the burning in your cheeks, but Loki danced about you, ensuring his eyes were always on yours- even if you refused to meet them.

        “You have no reason to be embarrassed .If it can happen to the great warrior like Fandril, ” his tone dripped with sarcasm “Then I would imagine it could happen to just about anyone.” 

        It took some effort to stifle a smile. 

        Frustratingly, as you continued to avoid his gaze, he continued to circle until you felt yourself becoming quite nauseous. You could feel yourself pale, and stopped to press the heels of your hands into your eyes until you saw stars. 

        “Are you alright, my lady?” He asked, surprisingly concerned. 

        “Yes, fine.” You replied, swallowing down another wave of discomfort. “I just need a moment to… settle my stomach.” 

        “Your stomach?” 

        You let your hands fall from your face and shot him an irritable look. Admittedly you took a bit of pleasure in the expression of mild panic and disgust that crossed his face when he realized your meaning. He took a broad step back so as to put some distance between you.

        It was almost a relief to at least know there was something that could get him off your back. 

        After a few deep breaths, you looked to him-straightening yourself as much as possible. “I fear I’ve held you up for too long. Perhaps I should allow you to return to the feast and find my way back alone.” 

        Loki raised an eyebrow. 

        You looked back down at your feet, glad that at least the floor would remain still. “As delightful as this has been, I would hate to deprive others of your company for my sake.” 

        “You are a terrible liar.” The Prince laughed. 

        “I beg your pardon?” You replied, taken aback. 

        Looking up, you noted how quickly he had closed the gap between you. No more than a foot away now, you were almost sure he could hear how much his proximity made your heart hammer nervously in your chest. 

        “You’re telling me that you can make it back on your own?” 

        You were not fond of the way a wry grin slipped across his face. 

        “I can.” You said, suddenly much less confident. 

        “How?” 

        “I’m sorry?” 

        “How will you make it back on your own? I assume one afternoon was not enough time to memorize the paths of the Palace.” 

        “Well, I do have the instructions you most graciously helped me compile, my Prince.” You gave him a smile as you tried to regain the space between you. Unfortunately his legs were much longer; and he was far more sober. 

        “Ah yes, I had nearly forgotten!” Light shone behind his eyes, and you did not like it one bit. “Humor me, will you? Where are we precisely on your little list of lefts and rights?”

        Your face fell. Quickly pulling the notebook from your pocket, you turned to the page in question; staring helplessly at the list. Neither you or he had written down a single landmark. 

        Damn .

        “Not quite as useful as you anticipated, is it?” He grinned. 

        Loki hovered above you, hands clasped casually behind his back as he seemingly laughed at your discomfort. Jaw clenched tightly, you did your best not to let a wave of irritation overwhelm your good sense- or what remained of it. 

        All you had wanted was a nice trip to the palace- one with your parents that you could recount to your friends when things returned to normal- but your first day had been nothing but a nightmare. 

        Of all people, why had you become the target of a Prince; someone whose relentless taunting you could do nothing about? There was no way you could outrun him- and you highly doubted he could be dissuaded. The idea of playing this game for a whole week mad your limbs feel as if they had been filled with lead . Your eyes stung as angry tears began to form. You wished you hadn’t touched a single drop that night. 

        “If I may?” 

        Loki’s voice was soft.  If you didn’t know better you might have thought he even sounded apologetic. You looked up to see he had outstretched his hand towards your notebook. 

        After a moment of studying him suspiciously, you offered it to him; though he did not take it.

        Instead, his lithe fingers brushed gently across the page, washing away your list of directions until the page looked brand new. When he withdrew them, lines began to radiate out from that very spot. They twisted and turned across the page, slowly weaving their way into a remarkably intricate map. The lines of the halls were embellished, and every tree, bush and flower around the palace seemed to settle into their proper place. 

        “Here,” he said, pointing to a small circle that had taken shape near you, “is where you arrived this morning.” 

        When his hand drew near it, small soldiers seemed to scurry around the landing- becoming completely still as it moved away. You looked up at him, astonished, and for the first time he took care not to meet your eyes. He kept his firmly on the page despite the proud expression that had warmed its way onto his face. As much as you wished you weren’t, you were impressed; and he knew it. 

        You couldn't help but soften despite yourself. 

        “This,” he continued, “would be the hall to take if you wished to return to your quarters.” He traced the path with his finger, and you noted that specific paintings, pillars, and marks on the walls had been labeled- landmarks to help you keep your bearings. At the end of the line he tapped gently on the small square of your quarters. They appeared in full detail, everything down to the books on the shelves fully present. You stifled the bit of unease that rose in you at his intimate knowledge of your quarters. 

        Pointing to a small, gold circle in the middle of one of the hallways; he gave you a light smile. “This is you. Where we stand right now. We have not made it far from the banquet hall here.” You found the label on the map quickly. “Follow the map, and you should find your way back just fine.” 

        He stepped back, shoulders shifting back as he surveyed his work. 

        “Thank you, my Prince.” You said, a light laugh escaping past your lips. For a moment, you thought you saw him regard you with something akin to fondness; but you dismissed it as it vanished quickly. 

        A short, but uncomfortable silence followed. Loki’s eyes pulled yours, and you watched a strange indecision play behind them. When your brow raised slightly, he sighed.

        “I assure you, you needn't thank me.” Dismissively waving his hand, he stepped back. “I’m simply saving myself some trouble later. It would be a terrible inconvenience to have to send every last Einherjar scurrying to fish you out of whatever unseemly corner of the Palace you might accidentally wander off to.” 

        You gave him a cynical glare. 

        “Don’t.” He warned. “Go. As you said, I have other places to be.” 

        You dipped into an exaggerated curtsey; one that made him laugh as it nearly cost you your balance. Turning on your heel you set to get back to the safety of your quarters as quickly as possible. 

        “ If you make it back to the dining hall in one piece tomorrow,” Loki called after you. “I might just add a few more places to your map.”

        Smug bastard.

        You did not look back, but pressed on just as quickly as your spinning head would allow. 

        Never before had it been so easy to tell you were in a dream. 

        You recalled changing into your night gown, washing yourself, and settling into the remarkable comfort of the bed you had been provided; and now you were seated in a skiff, wind pulling at your hair once more. 

        As the landing pad materialized below you, it became clear that your mind had simply returned you to the beginning of the day. Hopeful as you had been that you could escape the God of Mischief in your dreams, it seemed he would torment you here just the same. 

        Part of you took comfort in experiencing it once more; now removed from the emotions of the moment. It made the Prince’s words and actions just a little less irksome- and you were surprised to find some humor in them. 

        Still another part of you only became angrier that he had so quickly set upon you- and how stubbornly he continued. 

        As your memories of the day brought you to the banquet hall, you were relieved it was already at an end. You and Loki excused yourselves as you had before; moved through the halls and talked as you had before; and he provided you with the same map as he had before. You were frankly impressed you remembered it as well as you did-though it was almost a certainty you wouldn’t in the light of day. 

        Without a second thought, you performed your graceless curtsey, and walked away. 

        That is when you felt a hand clasp firmly around your wrist. 

        Loki turned you back towards him, pulling you slowly closer. His hands were frightfully cold, and you studied him with confusion and alarm. 

        “My Prince, w-” Your voice failed you as you felt his fingers slip delicately around your waist; hand settling gently on the small of your back. Heat radiated across your skin in all directions, and you averted your gaze. 

        Having no intention of allowing you your shyness, his other hand released your wrist and held your chin gently instead. He lifted your head until you had little choice but to meet the curiosity in his eyes. They kept your attention firmly on him, and you watched as a wolfish grin pushed wrinkles into the corners of his eyes.

        If your heart was to beat any louder, you were sure it would rouse you from your sleep. 

        “Do you truly find my company so distasteful?” Loki whispered. You had not expected him to sound so genuinely curious. 

        “Not distasteful, no.” You said politely. Loki rolled his eyes. 

        “Liar.” 

        Your frustration with him returned remarkably quickly. To have your own dream so quickly rebuke you was almost insulting. Truly what would he have expected you to say? That you adored every moment of relentless teasing? That you could not wait until the morning so you could see him again?

        That you liked how it felt for him to hold you like this? 

        The thought was banished as quickly as it came. You regarded him with suspicion, and were thrown off once more by the sudden uncertainty that flickered behind his eyes. If you hadn’t known better, you might have thought him afraid of your response. Though your chest ached, you reminded yourself whose eyes you were staring into. Neither empathy nor regret were part of his nature, you were sure; and the fear? 

        Though you would be loath to admit it, you couldn’t help but relish the small sense of victory you felt. Loki had troubled you relentlessly all day, and likely would again tomorrow; so if you were able to inflict even the smallest bit of discomfort on this illusion of him- it would be immensely satisfying. 

        “Come now,” He hummed softly. “Why don't you try again.” 

        You struggled to find the right words. Even in a dream you feared angering a member of the royal family. You struggled to let it go of rules and priority-one could not just yell at a Prince. But wasn’t that all the more reason to do so now? There would be no occasion or circumstance that would allow you such an opportunity. Here, there would be no consequences; you would have nothing to fear. 

If you had to endure his relentless tormenting all week without any kind of outlet; you would surely burst. So, for your own good, and the good of those around you, this figment of your imagination would have to do. 

        “My Prince,-”

        “Loki.” He said flatly.

        “I beg your pardon?”

        “You’re allowed to use my name, little one. At least while we are alone here.” 

        You grit your teeth against the strange fluttering that set off in your stomach. “And if I prefer not to?” 

        To your surprise, he released your chin, relaxing his grip around your waist. "I prefer you do.” He said with a sly grin. 

        Even in your own dreams, he left you with few choices. 

        “Loki,” You started again; the name feeling strange on your lips- as if it was never meant to be there. “I hope you don’t misunderstand. It is not that I find you distasteful as such. I just find you…” You gently extracted yourself from his arms. “...tiring.” 

        “I see.” He chuckled.

        “Were you not so… set on causing me discomfort, you might be a little charming. But as things are now-”

        “Might I?” He interrupted, playfully shifting you as if in a dance. You hated how charming you found it- but assured yourself that your mind had likely just made him more… palatable. 

        Loki pulled you closer against him, lowering his head until his face was dangerously close to your own. “So” He purred. “If you find me a little charming, what might I do for you to find me completely charming?” You could tell he was teasing you- the delight and mischief lingered in every facet of his expression  

        You let out a harsh laugh. 

        He paused, pulling back just enough to examine you. 

        How could he be confused? 

        “Pardon me, your highness. It just struck me that my opinion means nothing to the real you, so to have the dream you ask such a question is, well, laughable.”

        He did not respond, but you continued all the same. 

        “I know full well I am a toy to you- to him .” Waving your hand irritably you pulled free of his grasp. “I am nothing more than some... thing for him to knock about as he pleases to pass the time.” 

        “In my experience, getting knocked about can be quite a pleasurable way to pass the time.” He teased, a smile returning to his face. 

        “See! That is exactly what I mean.” you blurted out, putting your finger boldly close to his chest “Even in my dreams I can’t picture you taking me seriously; not even for a moment.” 

        “Perhaps you just take trivial things far too seriously.” He mused. 

        “Well one of us must, if you’re going to cling to my skirts for the duration of my stay.” 

        Loki looked offended. “I do not cling.” He said firmly. 

        “Is that so?” You replied, eyebrows raised. “Tell me, out of the few odd hours I have been in the palace, how many of them have been spent without you hovering nearby?” Tone growing embittered, you finally felt the frustration that had built up inside you coming to a head. “How many kind words have been pointed my way? To ask for even less, how many strictly formal words have you spoken to me?” Your anger seemed slightly undercut by how much taller the Prince was than you, but you would not be dissuaded.  “Everything you have said, or done, to me has only served to entertain you- and to make me feel foolish or lesser!” Loki still seemed thrown off guard by your outburst, which only served to agitate you more. “Tell me, how am I supposed to enjoy the company of someone who treats me in such a way?” 

        The hall was frightfully quiet and still. Loki stood, unmoving; his eyes darkened and his smile wiped clean. After a moment, he stalked closer to you-each step seeming to echo in your mind. 

        “Ahh, I see.” He sneered. “As much as you may believe you are ‘too good’ for the likes of me, I regrettably must inform you that you seem to have wildly overestimated the value of your company.” 

        “Oh? Have I?” You snapped, trying to retain your confidence as you took a step back. 

        It’s only a dream… you reminded yourself. 

        “I don’t recall having sought your company a single time since I have arrived- and yet, somehow, you’ve been nearly inescapable!” His hand grabbed at your wrist-this time tight enough to make you wince. His fingers dug roughly into your skin as he used it to yank you towards him. 

        “I would encourage you to be more careful with your words.” He hissed. “If you insist that I am inescapable, I can be exactly that.” 

        “Release me!” You yelped, trying to pull yourself free. 

        “You are not in the position to be making demands.” He warned as you attempted to free yourself again.

        “Then what do you want from me, your highness ? To simply endure it? To let you treat me like some… unwanted plaything?” Your wrist started to burn at his touch, your fingers tingling as they began to lose feeling. Tears began to well in our eyes, though you begged them not to. You tried to pry his fingers away, but you knew it was no use. 

        You snapped your gaze to his, holding the bitterness in his blue eyes out of sheer stubbornness. “Does it please you to see me in pain, your highness ? Does it amuse you as much as it does to make a game of me?” You refused to look away; his expression now unreadable as he watched your anger unfold. 

        “Do you want to know what irritates me the most?” It was almost a whisper as you wondered if you even wanted to speak the words out loud. “You’ve put a remarkable amount of time and effort into tormenting me.” A bitter laugh slipped free. “I almost wondered if there was something I might have done to inspire this- but I realized that wasn’t so.” Finally you let your eyes drop, and you let go of the weight in your arm. 

        “You see, if I had done or said something-no matter how trivial-it would have at least meant you saw me as a person.” 

        Loki’s brow furrowed. 

        “Do you know how I know you don’t see me as a person?” You asked. “Because if you did, you might have at least bothered to be there when you exacted… whatever this is.” 

        He released your wrist, and you pulled it back quickly, putting distance between you as best you could. His whole countenance had become stiff and formal- frighteningly calm. 

        “While it is regrettable you don’t share my sense of humor.” He began, keeping his tone smooth and even. “If it is truly so torturous, then you have my word that you will not have to endure it any longer.” 

        “A delightful thought.” You said with a roll of your eyes. “But it is nothing more than that; a thought. A half hearted promise, made by a figment of my imagination, in a dream.” 

        “How incredibly disappointed you must be.” He replied, dryly. Bit by bit, you were watching him raise a wall between you that you were shocked hadn’t been there before. 

        “No, my Prince.” You said with a tired sigh. “I heard stories of your unseemly behavior long before I arrived. Thus far? You have done nothing but exceed my expectations.” 

        Loki’s hands curled into tight fists at his side, knuckles nearly going white.  

        For a few moments, his eyes seemed to try and pry into every inch of you- as if he were looking for something. When his eyes snapped back to yours, you assumed he had not found it. 

        “If you have nothing more to say, I will take my leave.” 

        “You’re a spoiled child, Loki.” You said quietly. “A lifetime on a pedestal has rendered you incapable of seeing the line between mischief and malice.” 

        Anger and frustration hovered in the silence for a long while. The two of you stared at one another, as if waiting for the other to yield- neither willing. However, after a while, you watched the steel fade from his eyes until he just looked tired. 

        You were surprised to find yourself wondering if you had gone too far. It felt ridiculous- you were more than entitled to your anger; he had treated you like a doll, not a guest- and he could not simply do whatever he wished. 

        Still, you regretted feeding your anger; you regretted how intent you had been on causing him pain- it wasn’t like  you. 

        At least, you would like to think it wasn’t. 

        “As much as I would love to hear more of your sage advice, my lady,” Loki said, finally cutting through the silence. “It is time for me to take my leave.” 

        Without waiting for your reply, he turned to make his way back to the banquet hall. 

        The dream began to slowly slip from your grasp; and though you clung to it as best you could, it could not be stopped. Something strange stirred in your chest as you watched him go, but once he was out of sight, you were left with nothing but the encroaching black and an unfamiliar pang in your heart.

Chapter Text

    When you awoke, the sky was still dark, and you found yourself so tightly tangled in your sheets you could barely move. 

It took more time than you cared to admit to figure out how exactly to extract yourself from them, but once you did, your dream flooded back into your mind. It had been remarkably frightening. 

You had never been the sort to remember your dreams, let alone have ones so vivid; and to remember it so clearly in the light of day? It left a part of you questioning if it had even been a dream at all. The ache in your limbs made it clear how tense you had become, and the throbbing in your head reminded you how much you had drank the night before. Combined, all this had robbed you of a decent night’s sleep.

            Part of you begged to close your eyes once more- but another, more persistent part, feared that you would simply slip back into the nightmare, allowing it to repeat. You slapped your hands against your cheeks, hoping to push the urge away. Sitting upright in your bed, you let the blankets fall away and the sharp cold of the morning raise the hair on your skin. It quickly came to your attention that you had neglected to close your curtains the night before- and while you were sure that had something to do with the frigid temperatures of your room, you also weren’t entirely convinced that curtains alone could keep it at bay. You would have to remind yourself to set a fire before bed, or see if there was any way one could be lit before you woke. 

            Wrapping your arms around your legs, you stared into the distance as the sun slowly rose, first casting the pale light of early twilight across all of Asgard before the brilliant reds and pinks began to recolor the golden city.  

            By then, you decided you had little choice but to prepare for the day. Though your family was likely still asleep, beginning now would give you time to take your morning slowly. You were sure your head would need it. 

            Tentatively you touched your toes to the stone floors. While they had not retained all of the heat from the day before, you were relieved they were still warm enough that your feet did not sting as you set them down. The rest of you, however, did not have that same luxury. The air crept over every part of you that had been well warmed by the furs on your bed, making you shiver. A bath was the first thing on your mind, so you made a direct line for the bathroom you had all to yourself. Your head panged in protest with every step you took, but you were not to be dissuaded. 

            The bathroom itself was much warmer than your bedroom. Boasting much fewer windows, it seemed to have retained its heat much better overnight- and the reduced light was a blessing all its own. 

            The tub was a welcome sight- though you felt it was much less a tub and more a small pool. It filled quickly, and the steam that rose from the hot water only made the space more comfortable. As you sank down into it, you felt your muscles slowly begin to unwind. The back had been carved to create the perfect spot in which to settle oneself, and you gladly did. 

            You closed your eyes and focused on slowly releasing the tension from your shoulders, hoping it could bleed away into the water permanently. You had to contend with the memories of your dream, however, which came flooding back as soon as your eyes had nothing else to distract themselves with.

            There were a thousand stories explaining exactly why you should be afraid of Prince Loki, but your experience with him thus far had been generally harmless. You wondered why your mind had so vehemently insisted on turning him into a monster- and why it had instead you remember. 

            Massaging your wrist absently, you thought of how cold his touch had been. The way he had grabbed you was not something you had experienced before, and you hoped you never would again. Perhaps the dream had come because of the stories you had heard; or perhaps it had been the alcohol, or the unfamiliar space. Whatever had caused it, you had to remind yourself that it was just a dream. There was no reason to fear a dream.

            Your anxious mind refused to give up the game, however, suggesting you should be very careful not to think about the dream near Loki. Powerful sorcerer as he was, you had no way to know if he could hear or see what was in your mind. Though it felt like a childish fear, you also reminded yourself that this was the same man who could read and write in your notebook without so much as glancing at it. 

            Were he to see how you had spoken to him, you feared there would be some sort of retaliation in store. In the best case, he might use it to tease you all the more- worst case scenario...well, you took care not to think too hard about that. 

            Your stomach rumbled loudly, and you tried to ignore the dread that washed over you at the thought of re-entering the banquet hall. Facing Loki again seemed deeply unappealing, but if you stayed close to your parents perhaps you wouldn’t have to deal with him at all. 

            How childish can you be?

            You groaned. You were an adult, you could not hide behind your parents forever. 

            Slowly you withdrew from the bath, wrapping yourself in one of the robes that had been provided as soon as you were able. It kept the cold at bay well enough, but you still had to resist the urge to curl back up in your bed. 

            Instead, you pulled open the wardrobe, parsing through the meager collection of gowns you had brought. You took a while deciding which one was the warmest, before reluctantly realizing the one of a deep forest green was indeed it. 

            Your second warmest would have to do. 

            Dressing quickly so as to limit your exposure to the open air, you braided your still soaking hair, pinning it away from your neck so that it would not spend the morning dripping down your skin. When you at last had it set just so, you considered what- if anything- you should bring with you. 

            Leaving your notebook behind would mean one less tool with which Loki could pester you- but it also meant you might be forced to find your way to and from the banquet hall on your own. With little confidence you could do so, you reluctantly stashed it away in your pocket; choosing to leave your pen behind instead. 

            Not that he couldn’t make it appear as he did the night before, but at the very least you refused to make it easy for him. 

            Ready as you would ever be, you carefully poked your head through the door into the living space. 

            A fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and you saw your mother spread out across the couch; a, no doubt outdated, book on Midgardian resources propped against her knee. 

            “Good morning, Mother.” You said softly, approaching and placing a small kiss on the top of her head. 

            Not looking up from her book, she reached for your hand giving it a small squeeze. 

            “You’re up early, Sparrow.” 

            “I suppose. Though I imagine that’s, in part, because I retired early as well.” You reminded her. 

            “Ah yes, I do recall you leaving alongside the younger prince.” 

            “Mother, please.” You scolded. She laughed warmly, finally closing her book to look at you. 

            “I am only teasing my dear. Though I would not mind being mother-in-law to a Prince.” You withdrew your hand dramatically. 

            “If I was to marry a Prince, it would certainly not be him .” 

            Though she opened her mouth to say something, her face quickly changed from playful to concerned. 

            “You’re so pale…” She said, rising from her seat. She gently placed the back of her hand against your forehead. “Are you alright?”

            “Just fine, mother, I promise.” You lied. “I think between the travel, the drink, and sleeping in an unfamiliar place I was just unable to get proper rest.” 

            She studied you carefully, reluctant to accept your answer. There was little you could get past her, but at the very least you hoped she would not press the subject any further.

            “If you are sure.” She said, placing her hand on your cheek.

            “Quite sure. Some food will put me right, I am sure.” You pulled her hand from your face, quickly changing the subject. “Has father already left for breakfast, or has he slept in?” 

            Your mother rolled her eyes. “I hardly think he slept at all- the man left for the banquet hall long before sunrise.” 

            “Oh dear…” 

            “Oh dear indeed.” She laughed. Your father was an excitable man, and this was far from the first time he was so consumed in his work that he neglected to sleep. Now, he was surely seated in the hall awaiting the poor Crown Prince who, in your absence, would be without a buffer. 

            “Perhaps we should go and try and distract him a bit.” 

            “Sparrow, you know I could sit every last person in the palace between them and it would not stop your father for even a moment.” 

            “I would feel guilty if I did not at least try.” 

            “Are you sure you would not like to remain here with me? I’m sure we could call a servant to bring food, and I could always use a keen eye to help me.” 

            It was a tempting offer. Your mother had been your favorite parent to work alongside. While you found stenography incredibly tedious, you had never once tired of studying the way trade routes were woven between realms. 

            The study of them encompassed so much you often wondered how anyone could keep it all straight- even with thousands of years to do so. Finding ways to move between realms was challenging enough- particularly if you did not want to rely on the Bifrost- and that was only the surface. To balance curtesy and guile, while negotiating partnerships and deals- fighting to find a solution amenable to both parties. It seemed the perfect game. 

            On more than one occasion it made you wonder if you might enjoy a future in diplomacy. You felt all you had learned could be put to good use there, but you had never quite found the courage to leave home. 

            “I appreciate the offer, mother, but if we are not there to temper his curiosity, the Crown Prince will tire of us before long the week is out.” 

            Your mother laughed a full, resounding laugh. “I suppose you are right. He would be heartbroken if we were removed from the premises.” She wrapped her arms around you tightly, and you sank into her embrace. “My offer still remains, if you change your mind.” She said softly. 

            “Thank you,” you replied. “I’m sure once I have dined I will feel worlds better- and I can help you then.” 

            “I’m sure you will.” She said, pulling away. “However, if you have eaten and find that is not all that was bothering you; I am here for that as well.” 

            How clearly she could see through you… Though you supposed that, if someone were to, you were glad it was her.

            “I promise. If anything bothers me, you will be the very first person I will seek out.” 

            It was a lie, but she left it at that. 

            With one last goodbye, you slipped from the suite into the halls. You hated not being able to share things with her, but you were quite sure that she was the sort who would not hesitate to strike royalty in your defense. So, until you had a better way to handle the situation, you resolved to keep it to yourself. 

            Almost immediately you were glad you had not left your notebook behind. In daylight, the whole Palace looked quite different. Small landmarks you had put great pains into memorizing seemed to have been washed away by the sun- even though they had stood out so sharply in the moonlight. 

            Even the banquet hall was notably different. The stark shadows that had been cast by the firelight were smoothed away with the pale colors of morning. The occupants were fewer, and far quieter than they had been the night before; and your still aching head understood why. 

            Still, the space was just as warm as before, and the delightful smells of breakfast quickly soothed the last of your nerves. 

            It took barely a moment to find your father. Had he not already stood out so sharply against the royal family, the beleaguered look on Prince Thor’s face would have revealed his presence in an instant. It seemed your worries had been entirely justified- the Prince had likely been unable to escape your father’s relentless questioning since dawn.

            You wished he would wait, since your first official interview was to be later that day. 

            The King and Queen sat close by, but seemed fully engaged in a world of their own. They seemed happy enough to savor moment to themselves, and clearly had no intention of saving their son from your father. 

            You couldn’t tell if you were frightened or relieved when you noted a specific someone was absent from the table. 

            An uneasy paranoia clouded your mind. He had seemingly appeared from nowhere the night before, and you almost were waiting for him to do so again. You ran your fingers over the back of your neck, waiting for the strange twinge of energy to run across it. Strongly re-considering your mothers offer, you feared you had lost your nerve. 

            You cannot avoid things simply because of him. 

            You knew that to be the case, and had to remind yourself that -of the four occasions in which Loki could have been present since your arrival- he had only attended two. Perhaps you would see him less than you had anticipated. 

            “If it is truly so torturous, then you have my word that you will not have to endure it any longer .”

            The sound of his voice echoed in your head, the memory sending a chill down your spine. As miserable as you had found his company, you struggled to fathom how a dream could be the thing to stir so much fear in you. After all, a dream was just a dream; and Loki was not here. 

            It is only breakfast. You reminded yourself. The prince was not here to peer inside your mind as you had so irrationally feared; nor would he be able to harangue you into some sort of unwitting confession. 

            You were snapped from your thoughts when you noticed The Crown Prince rise sharply from his chair. A look of relief flooding is face as he caught your eye, and without a moment's hesitation he took the opportunity to flee your father’s company. 

            “My good Lady!” He beamed, his voice loud enough to make you wince. “How fare you this morning? Quite well I hope.” 

            “Yes, my Prince.” You said with a slight bow. 

            “Wonderful! Come, you must join us for breakfast. I insist you tell me everything you thought about your first day here in the Palace." Placing his hand between your shoulder blades, he ushered you back towards the table; peppering you with every question that crossed his mind. 

            It did not escape you that he chose to sit as far from your father as possible.

            You answered the Prince’s questions dutifully, occasionally glancing to watch the gears in your fathers head turn as he tried to decide how best to leave the company of the King and Queen without causing any offense. 

            “Did my brother cause you any trouble last night?” Thor asked through a mouthful of food he had shamelessly stolen from your plate.

            “I beg your pardon?” 

            “Loki,” he clarified. “When he escorted you back to your chambers last night, I hope he wasn’t…” Thor waved his hand absently, unable to find the right word and allowing the sentence to trail off instead. You were a bit surprised he had asked, given he was the one who so readily released you into his care. 

            “There were no issues.” You assured- a lie pressed through a warm grin. “In fact, he was courteous enough to provide me with a map, so I might be able to navigate on my own in the future.”

            Thor’s brow arched high on his forehead. “Did he now?” He said, incredulously. “Might I see it?” 

            You  quickly obliged, laying it open on the table for him to inspect. Thor leaned in, clearly unaware of the amount of space he truly occupied as you had to lean away to provide him with more. He inspected the page meticulously- scouring every inch for what you assumed were any discrepancies. You realized you had never even considered he might have given you something wildly inaccurate, or even with small tricks or traps to lead you down a wrong hall, or into the wrong room. 

            When Thor leaned back into his chair, he seemed content that nothing was off about the map, and you breathed a sigh of relief. 

            “Well, I am pleased to hear he was reasonable.” he laughed. You smiled back- but couldn’t help wondering how the two actually got on. 

            Thor seemed to watch over Loki carefully, as you assumed an older brother would be wont to do, but memories of the night before left you unsure. He had not interceded when his companions mocked the younger prince- nor did he try to involve him with the group. Perhaps if he had, Loki would have left you alone. After all he had done, you would have assumed the Crown Prince would turn his back on his younger brother; and perhaps he had. Perhaps this was the most distance he could truly create so long as Loki remained a member of the Royal Family. 

            “I see he’s not joined us this morning.” You said, curiosity getting the better of you. 

            “I assure you it is nothing to concern yourself with. My brother is rarely present at anything.” He said, hiding bitterness behind his playful tone. 

            “How strange.” You replied, not sure if you were more perplexed by Loki’s absence, or Thor’s reaction. 

            “Perhaps.” the Prince said with a shrug, “My brother has his reasons, I am sure. Though I cannot say I know, or understand them.” He seemed to look past you as he spoke. “There is only so much you can do for someone who has chosen to withdraw from the world.”

            You couldn’t place the strange twinge in your chest. You remembered how much time the younger Prince spent trying to at least exist on the edge of the conversation, banished to the outskirts while his brother remained at its center.

            Why do you care?

            It wasn’t your place to comment on the relationship between the two princes, and nor was it your place to do anything about it- even if you wanted to. You nodded absently back at Thor and returned your attention to what remained of your breakfast.  

            As the two of you fell into silence, and you were relieved it was a pleasantly comfortable one. Your meal was nearly finished by the time he spoke up again. 

            “I am to speak privately with you and your father today, am I not?” 

            “In a few hours, yes.” 

            “Is there anything… I should be aware of when I speak with your father? He strikes me as a very… curious man.” 

            “In more ways than one.” You laughed, which seemed to put the Crown Prince more at ease. “While his fascinations can often get in the way of his good manners, you have little to worry about. You could likely describe nothing but Midgardian children's toys to him and he would be delighted.”

            “Good to know.” He chuckled. 

            “I will be there as well,” you offered. “If at any point you feel you need a break, let me know and I will pry him away.” 

            “Thank you, my lady. I will do my best to endure- but if I am to fail, I am glad to have an ally.” 

            You nearly rolled your eyes. “I am glad to be of assistance, my Prince.” 

            Thor pushed abruptly back from the table, standing to tower over you. “I think it is time I took my leave.” He said, loud enough for the table to hear. He placed his massive hand on your shoulder, and more softly continued. “Until our meeting later, I believe I will do my best to keep my time my own.” 

            “I wish you the best of luck.” You replied, forcing down a smile. 

            With a final pat on your back, he turned and strode purposefully from the hall- your father’s disappointed gaze following close behind. 

            By the time the small escort of Einherjar had arrived at your quarters, your father was still far from ready. He had spent the time between breakfast and now pulling out every last item he owned until it was all scattered about the rooms. Frantically he searched for this and that, leaving the soldiers to wait uncomfortably by the door. 

            Your mother quickly suggested you go ahead to prepare the space before your father arrived. She knew as well as you that, if you could manage to set up the space to his liking, you might prevent the same chaos from repeating in the Archival Hall. You agreed, and one of the guards led you quickly through the halls of the palace. 

            The Archival Hall was something quite separate from the palace library. For one, the library was far larger and open to any visitor or resident who wished to explore its offerings. The Archival Hall was strictly for the use of the royal family and their most trusted advisors. You couldn’t help but feel it a privilege that this meeting was to happen there, of all places. 

            When you arrived, it was easy to see why they had picked this location over others. The space was much smaller and far more intimate than anything you had experienced in the palace so far. No more than a single room, the rows of shelves went no more than three deep- though they stretched all the way up to the ceiling. Against one wall was a fireplace- already lit and flickering- and a large wooden table lined with very comfortable looking chairs sat in its center. 

            The shelves, notably, did not seem to hold any books, but scrolls. They were piled loosely on top of one another, and you wondered if anyone even dared to pull them out at all. There was no doubt in your mind they were filled with records kept over the centuries by Asgardian nobility. It was impossible not to feel curious about what was stored within, and though you desperately wished to look, you realized that might not be best while under the watchful eye of the royal guard. 

            Instead, you set about your preparations; shifting the chairs so that your father and the crown prince could remain face to face, and you could remain just out of sight, but still reachable should Thor determine he needed an escape. 

            To your relief, the Einherjar left soon after you began, seemingly satisfied you would cause no trouble in their absence.  You almost felt like proving him wrong. 

            It felt strange to be alone in this room- perhaps because it was somewhere you were clearly not meant to be. Settling into one of the chairs, you closed your eyes and breathed deep the smell of the place. Aging parchment and dust muddled with the wood smoke from the fire to make something delightfully familiar. It was the smell of your parents' studies and of academic libraries- it was a smell of home. 

            The reminder of a place of comfort was more than welcome. You let  some of the tension slip from your shoulders, breathing out a contented sigh. Perhaps working alongside your father wouldn’t be so bad; if you got to spend your days here you were sure there would be no repeat nightmares. 

            Sinking into the chair, you felt your consciousness slip- though for how long, you couldn’t say. It wasn’t until you felt the prickle of energy run down your neck that you quickly snapped awake. 

            As soon as your eyes flicked open, there Loki stood- leering down at you from the other side of the table, several scrolls tucked into the crook of his arm. His expression was stone, almost angry, and you felt the memories of the dream rush back into focus. Without realizing, you had grabbed hold of your own wrist. He regarded you slowly, before his jaw tightened and he glanced towards the door where the Einherjar had been. 

            “That soldier is fortunate I did not see their face.” He muttered, voice low and firm. “As you should not be allowed in here alone.” 

            You were unsettled by this Loki. The one you had interacted with the day before had spoken to you far differently- and this man seemed irritated by your very existence. 

            It was just a dream. 

            “My apologies, my Prince.” You said, lowering your eyes. 

            “Don't cower-"  he snapped, "my ire is not for you. I am fully confident you could not have found your way here on your own.” 

            Unsure of how to respond, you stayed as still and silent as you could manage. Loki sighed, relaxing the wall around him just enough. 

            “I assume you are here to record my brother’s glorious adventures on Midgard?” 

            “I am.” 

            Loki scoffed. “Then I will leave.” Something in his expression told you he had heard the stories many times before- and no doubt they painted him in a less than favorable light.  With barely a motion, you watched the scrolls vanish into smoke before Loki locked his eyes on yours. 

            “Do not. Touch. Anything.” he warned.

            You nodded stiffly, and with that, he disappeared in a shimmer of green.

Chapter Text

        You were almost certain Loki would return- and so you held perfectly still until your father and the Crown Prince arrived. Both had seemingly collected themselves, and were already engaged in spirited conversation. You felt your body relax, relieved you would not have to face Loki again. 

        At least, not yet. Not alone. 

        The session itself was blessedly uneventful. Prince Thor recounted his experiences from the very beginning- even though you had already noted much of it the day before. Dutifully, you wrote each word down anyway and, by the time a genuinely new subject was broached, nearly an hour had passed. 

        Your fitful sleep was catching up with you quickly. Fighting hard to keep from nodding off, you engaged them both with your own questions now and then. It worked well enough, but by hour two both your head and hands were starting to throb. 

        When, at last, your father came to the end of his questions, the sun had already begun to set and you were more than ready to be finished. Clearly of the same mind, Thor retreated quickly - keeping niceties to a minimum and leaving you and your father to review your notes in peace. 

        It was a comforting task; something you had done with him many times before, but it had been quite a while since you had the opportunity to work with him like this. What's more, there had been considerably more changes in Midgard than you had anticipated. A good quarter of your notebook had already been filled with shorthand, and you were concerned you might not have enough space for an entire week. 

        Particularly if Loki keeps using it as well. 

        You were less than fond of coldly he had treated you that morning. The more jovial interactions from when you arrived seemed to have vanished- and while it seemed possible he was simply that fickle with his moods- fear settled in the pit of your stomach. 

        As the conversation between you and your father thinned, your mind began to wander back to your dream. You flipped back through the pages, wondering if you had missed Loki’s handwriting somewhere amidst your own. If he had, perhaps you would know for sure what had happened, or at the very least you could better understand his mood. Unfortunately, you could find nothing new- and somehow that felt worse. 

        Not for the first time, you wondered how serious the consequences for speaking so brusquely to a Prince of Asgard could be. If Loki truly was who he was said to be, you were sure that not just you, but your whole family would be punished severely. 

        Getting lost and starving to death in the halls of the Palace seemed a kinder fate. 

        Bitterly, you considered just how long-and how eagerly- you had awaited this trip. For months all you had thought about were the chances you would have to explore, and the people you would meet. You had even fantasized about the events you might somehow find yourself invited to. 

        It had all gone wrong remarkably fast.

        Pen tapping mindlessly against the page, you merely nodded each time your father spoke. There had to be something you could do-either to be sure of why he was angry, or of what you could do to prevent things from... escalating.

        Trying to contact him through your notebook seemed a reasonable option as you had used it to communicate before- but when you had, he had always been present. Could you be sure that, if you wrote, he would see it? It seemed unlikely. 

        Waiting here in the Archival Hall seemed an idea as well, but one far more likely to get you into an even deeper mess with the Prince.

        Whatever you chose, you would need your father to leave. 

        “I’m sorry,” you groaned, interrupting an explanation of what seemed to be Midgard's most unusual transportation methods. “I fear I’m a bit worn down.” 

        “Are you alright?” He asked, his hand rubbing your shoulder gently. 

        “I’ll be fine, I think I just need some time to review on my own. Do you mind?” 

        “Not at all, my dear.” He said with a warm smile. “I can wait to review it myself once you’re satisfied. Just don’t take too long- your mother will have my head if the work keeps you away all night.” 

        You laughed, knowing just how often he did exactly that. “I promise, father. Thank you.”

        With a quick embrace, he departed-and the moment his footsteps faded into silence, you felt anxiety wrap its fingers around your neck.  Your heart had been beating too fast to begin with, and now that you were no longer trying to preserve a mask of contentment, you could feel your legs begin to shake. Your mind raced and you fidgeted restlessly with your pen. The idea of speaking to Prince Loki only tied your stomach into knots; so writing to him seemed the best option. 

        What would you even write? If you were to ask about the dream, there seemed too many ways for it to go wrong. If you were right about him having somehow been there in your mind, you supposed that apologizing straight away would be the best route; but if he hadn’t , he would either think you foolish, or worse, ask you specifically what the dream had been about. If you lied to the God of Lies, you would find yourself at the wrong end of his temper- but if you told him the truth, you feared you would be thrown right back into the situation you were so desperate to escape. 

        The memory of his cold fingers gripping your wrist sent a shiver down your spine. The strength with which he held you, and the anger with which he addressed you? You had to fix this- and now. 

        You had to remind yourself that-if you spent too long focusing on what could happen- you might not write anything at all. The stakes were far too high to simply let the situation be. 

        The room suddenly felt frighteningly large. The security and comfort that the hours of constant company had offered vanished into shadows. Pressing your eyes tightly closed, you tried to focus instead on the silence. You let it clear your mind, the familiar smell of dust and cold night air settling your nerves just enough. 

        Your head fell back onto the chair, and you shifted your attention to slowly unwinding the muscles in your forearm. They had become painfully tight after hours of writing, and they stung in protest as you attempted to massage them back to life with your thumb. Slowly- bit by bit- you felt a sense of ease return, and finally felt yourself relax.

        Until a prickle ran down the back of your neck. 

        Your jaw locked, and your heart picked up once more. 

        It could be nothing more than paranoia, you thought. Maybe your brain had fixated so intently on the worst case scenario that it began to feel real. Still, you held your breath. 

        “I take it you have finished for the day?” 

        Loki’s voice was terse, and it made your blood run cold. Opening your eyes, you saw him standing opposite you; seemingly keeping a healthy distance from the table. You were almost more irritated that this was the second time he had caught you alone, with your eyes closed, today. 

        At least this means I won’t have to try and find him…

        You quickly straightened in your chair, and met his eyes with all the confidence you could manage. 

        “Yes, my Prince.” 

        “And my brother has allowed you to remain here-alone- again?” He regarded you like a fighter might regard their opponent; not seeking to strike first, but ready to turn an attack into an opportunity at a moment's notice. 

        “He has...left, yes.” 

        Loki frowned, staring you down intently until you squirmed. Though he seemed to expect something you couldn't, for the life of you, discern what. You considered if this would be an opportunity to ask him about the dream, but the way he looked at you made it quite difficult to find any words at all. 

        Seeming to have accepted you would give him nothing more, Loki sighed bitterly. 

        “How much longer do you intend to remain here?” 

        “Until I’ve finished reviewing today's notes.” 

        “And how long will that take?” 

        You took a moment to consider your answer carefully. 

        “I’m… unsure.” 

        “You’re unsure?” He repeated incredulously. “So, despite our earlier discussion, you chose to remain here -unsupervised- for an indeterminate amount of time.” 

        Unsupervised?

        You weren't a child who needed to be under someone’s watchful eye at all times. You opened your mouth to say as much, but quickly snapped it back shut with a frown. 

        “That would appear to be the case, yes.” You replied. 

        The young Prince groaned. “Fine. If no one in this Palace will do their job properly, then I will.” He turned sharply back towards the shelves, and a thought crossed your mind. 

        “How incredibly disappointed you must be.” 

        You did your best to mirror his tone as you recalled it in your dream. A sense of fear, and satisfaction, blended uncomfortably in you when Loki stopped dead in his tracks. 

        A small, bitter grin emerged as he turned slowly to face you. His chin lifted high and he regarded you down the line of his nose. 

        “A curious choice of words.” He said slowly. 

        It was all you needed to confirm your worst fears were, in fact, true. 

        “So it wasn’t just a dream.” you said, disappointed. 

        “No, my lady.” he scoffed, “I’m afraid it was not.” He took his time as he approached, moving step by step until his legs nearly pressed against the table. Loki seemed quite eager to see how you would react-what you would say- and frankly, so were you. 

        Even though a nagging part of you knew it hadn’t been a normal dream, you had still avoided considering what you might actually say if that were the case. 

        Apologize. 

        You swallowed, bowing your head shamefully. “Please forgive me… I…” You took a breath, hoping to slow your racing heart. “There is no excuse that could make up for the way I spoke to you. My words were cruel and uncalled for- and I cannot express my regret deeply enough.” 

        A few moments of silence hung in the air, and you ventured a glance at his face. To your surprise, he seemed almost disappointed. 

        “If you fear I intend to punish you and your family, you needn't.” Loki said, voice smooth and practiced. “I entered your dream uninvited to seek your honest opinion of me; and I most certainly found it.” He laughed bitterly, but his tone slowly softened. “You can rest assured, I have learned my lesson.” 

        You could not place what made your chest ache. 

        While, yes, you were relieved to hear he would not retaliate against you or your family; a strange guilt had begun to well inside you. 

        In your dream your words had seemed justified- proportionate to his behavior at the very least. He had hurt you! Yet regret poisoned your anger all the same. 

        “Only be sorry if you intend to keep me here all day.” He said dryly. You watched as he pulled back the chair opposite you and settled himself in it. The two of you eyed one another with uncertainty for a few moments before Loki leaned back into his chair with a sigh. 

        “I’ve heard,” he mused, “That your father and my brother have become quite fast friends in the dining hall.” The tiniest hint of a smile hid in the corner of his eyes. 

        “They are quite the pair.” You laughed-your shoulders relaxing slightly. The image of Thor’s expression slowly growing vacant over the span of a meal was far more amusing than it should be. To watch such a small man drain every last bit of spark from such a giant was quite the sight to behold. 

        “If it’s anything like what he’s told me- I sincerely regret every meal I’ve missed.” 

        You watched his expression relax in turn, and you felt the distance between you begin to close. You watched him, watch you as he pulled idly at the joints of his fingers- the growing silence feeling unexpectedly comfortable. 

        How very strange it felt... was he...?

        “Ah, speaking of meals-” he said, suddenly leaning forwards and gesturing to your notebook, “I believe I promised to add to that little map of yours if you made it to breakfast in one piece.” He teased. You rolled your eyes but pushed it across the table all the same. You leaned forwards yourself so you might get a better view as his fingers slid delicately across the page. 

        “I must admit, I am not sure how to thank you for this, my Prince.” You were genuinely appreciative- with how complex the Palace was, you could not say for sure that-left alone- you wouldn't have found yourself in a completely different realm by now. 

        "As I told you before,” he said dully, “I simply have no desire to have to waste valuable time tracking you down to whatever forsaken corner of the Palace you might wander off to if left alone.” 

        “I don’t know,” you bit back a wry grin,” you seem to have had a relatively easy time finding me so far.” 

        For the first time that day, Loki openly laughed. “Purely a streak of bad luck, I assure you.” 

        Returning his attention back to the page, you watched as the Archival Hall in which you sat began to appear in the same intricate detail as the other rooms; the path to it reaching outwards until it connected with a known hall. 

        “If I may ask, why are you only adding small sections at a time?”

        “Pardon?” He seemed taken aback by your question. Anxiously, your fingers found their way to your ear. 

        “This map of the Palace- I’ve noticed you’re only providing small sections at a time, and I was wondering why not put it all there at once?” 

        Loki stopped what he was doing and leaned forward, his eyes glimmering with something that was both amusement and pride-and yet neither. “That would be quite the security risk, don’t you think?” 

        You suddenly felt quite taken aback, and what was a small grin began to widen. “We cannot just have guests wandering about,” he continued. “They could easily end up where they do not belong- or worse, their maps could end up falling into the wrong hands.”

        As he said it, it seemed obvious. You chastised yourself for having missed it when normally you would not have done so. 

        “Forgive me,” you frowned, “I didn't mean to imply that-” 

        “That I was hiding the full map from you?” He teased. Amusement lit his face as he bit his lips tightly together in an effort to stifle a wider smile. Your face flushed, and you struggled to meet his eyes. He leaned his head down just enough to follow your eyes, and when you finally looked away, he chuckled- leaning forward as he ran his fingers through his hair, sorting every strand back into place. 

        You could not place why he made you so nervous-or perhaps embarrassed- but it made the silence seem unbearable. Words fell from your lips like water despite yourself. 

        “No, no it isn’t that. I suppose it just seemed to me that you have far better things to do with your time than play tour guide to a visiting stenographer - and the thought of having to disturb you, or your staff, or one of the Einherjar each time I needed to go somewhere felt…. Childish. So I suppose I was just curious as to why you’re-”

        “It’s too big.” He said plainly, cutting you off. 

        The words took a second to register. “I beg your pardon?”

        “The map of the entire Palace is far too big to fit on a page as small as this.” He gestured to the notebook, and you watched his growing fascination at your seemingly frayed mental state. “It seemed reasonable to me that I would provide you with nothing more than what you needed, when you needed it.” 

        Where had your mind gone? Each answer felt like something that would have come to mind quickly in any other situation, and yet here sitting beside him you second guessed every look, action, and intention. 

        “If you like .” he hummed “I could provide you with a full map.” 

        You knew instantly it would not be that easy-but you were just as easily controlled by your curiosity as your father was by his. 

        “That would be wonderful .” You said, with perhaps more enthusiasm than you intended. 

        “It will take me a day or so to prepare.” He cautioned. 

        “I don’t mind, truly. This is very generous of you, my Prince. 

        There was a pause as a frown wrinkled his brow. 

        “Loki.” he corrected. You simply stared at him blankly. 

        “If you’ll recall, I told you I would prefer you address me by name-not by title.” 

        “Ah. I guess I assumed that request only applied to that specific conversation.” 

        “It did not.” He said flatly.

        “My apologies… Loki.” You found it difficult to hold his eyes, disquieted by the informality of it all. You pulled at your ear, perhaps harder than normal as you felt his gaze linger on you. 

        “Is addressing me by name truly that distressing?” Loki asked, seeming genuinely curious. You looked back to see him staring at you as if-were he to look long and hard enough-some strange fog would lift, and you would become as transparent as glass. 

        “How do you mean?” You ventured. 

        “The very moment I suggest you do so you began trying to pull your ear from your face.” He teased. 

        “And earlier, I watched you try to pull your fingers apart at the joint.” You huffed. 

        “I can assure you my fingers are far more resilient than your ear.” 

        You glowered at him as he smirked; proceeding onward as if he had said nothing at all. “It is a habit, nothing more.”

        “If you insist, my Lady.”

        “I do, my Prince. ” 

        Petty, perhaps, but as irritation darkened his eyes, you briefly understood why he seemed to enjoy flustering and teasing you. It held a sort of power- a frightfully delicious form of mischief. 

        “How bold of you.” He growled. “Defying the order of a Prince.” 

        “As I recall it was not an order, but a request.” You grinned. 

        You could almost hear his jaw click from across the table. Loki leaned back-his legs spread wide as if to remind you to whom this whole Palace belonged. 

        As if you could forget. 

        The two of you sat locked in silence, neither one willing to be the first to look away.

        It was childish, but what did that matter when it was only the two of you here? There was no one to reprimand you but yourselves.

        Suddenly, something you very much disliked glimmered in his eyes, sending you to shift nervously in your chair once more. 

        “What?” You asked, feeling like a rabbit cornered by a fox. 

        “If I recall,” He said with a wolfish grin, “You said you weren't sure how to thank me for such a generous gift.” 

        Damn . 

        “You are here a week,are you not?” 

        “I am.” 

        “Excellent. Then over the next two days I will prepare it for you the best I can, and you will at least have it to guide you for the latter half of your stay.” 

        “Thank you my pri…” You realized your mistake before you even noticed his eyes darken ever so slightly. “Loki. Thank you, Loki.” he smiled, and you released your breath. 

        “In the meantime.” He said, gesturing to your notebook again. “We will make a game of it.” 

        Oh no.

        With a quick snap of his fingers you watched as, what appeared to be a round paperweight crafted from glass, settled itself in his hand. Though it seemed perfectly clear the moment it manifested, you felt the prickle of magic wash over your skin and it slowly turned an icy sort of blue. His fingers flexed, and it cracked easily under the pressure- fracturing cleanly into four parts.

        The sound made you flinch, and he gave you a reassuring nod as he placed each piece on the table. 

        “On your map, I will mark four places- each within the palace grounds. In them, I will hide one part of the glass.” As he spoke, new hallways and paths began to branch across the page. They each were blank, lacking the identifying features and labels the others had boasted, and seemed to dead end into an unknown locations.

        “It seems to me your goal has been to explore some of the better parts of the palace, so each location is one that is often… overlooked.” Despite himself, Loki’s voice softened. You suddenly realized how close the color of the glass was to the color of his eyes. 

        You resented the part of you that noted it. 

        “Bring each one back to me before you leave, and I will provide you a full map of the palace.”

        You frowned, studying the page for a moment. “These hiding spots; are there any of them in places where I am not supposed to be?” 

        “Some of them.” He said with a shrug.

        “And you suspect that my curiosity is so strong that I would venture where I am not permitted.” 

        “If the way you speak to me is any indication,” he said smugly. “Then yes.” 

        “What happens if I am caught?” 

        “You won't get caught.” He said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

        “How do you suppose that?” 

        “ I’ve never been caught.”

        He ignored the bitter look you cast his way and continued on. 

        “You see, the good thing about overlooked spaces is that they often go unoccupied for long stretches of time. They make for perfect places to hide from anything or… anyone you might wish to avoid.” His voice hinted at memories; the nature of which you couldn’t quite discern 

        “You’re under no obligation of course. You’re only here for a week.” He leaned forward in his chair, causing you to shift back in turn. “These are just useless bits of glass, so if they go unrecovered, they won't be missed.” 

        You bit hard at your lip. He had quite easily sensed how quickly your curiosities could consume you. You were much like your father in that way. It was clear you were eager to explore- and how difficult such an offer would be for you to resist.

        The grin on his face only confirmed it. 

        Cocky bastard. 

        “I’ll do it on one condition.” You said firmly. 

        “I’m not sure you’re in the position to set conditions here.” 

        As much as he could tell you were a slave to your curiosities, you could tell he craved control. Even if you did make demands-so long as they were not too unreasonable- he would likely meet them just to ensure you kept playing his game. 

        “All I ask is for you to assure me that- if I find myself in some sort of trouble- you will come to my aid.” 

        “You wont get into trouble.” he said with a roll of his eyes. 

        “Then you should have no problem agreeing to something you will never have to do.” You grinned, feeling quite pleased with yourself. 

        He was markedly less pleased. 

        “ Fine.” he said bitterly. “If you are to get yourself into trouble- and ONLY if you get yourself into trouble- write my name on any page and I will come for you.” 

        You grinned and offered him your hand. “Then, Loki, it’s a deal.”

        He rolled his eyes, and with a wave of his hand the shards vanished-hiding themselves in their intended destinations. It dawned on you that this could be a horrible mistake- but you had already decided you wanted to win his game, and you were not the kind that was easily deterred.  

Chapter Text

        By the time you left the Archives night had washed over the palace. A chill lingered in the halls and-with most already enjoying the night's feast- you were left to trail cautiously behind the young Prince. 

        It had quickly become clear you would be unable to work properly while pinned beneath Loki’s watchful eye-so you resolved that your revisions would have to wait until tomorrow. 

        When, at last, you rose from your seat, he did the same; and now you moved wordlessly down the empty halls. The silence was welcome, as was the distance between you. He had made no effort to moderate his stride as he pressed down the twisting passages; and you were left to trail behind him, occasionally speeding up your pace to close the gap when it became too wide. 

        Though he had provided you with a map of your own-and you likely did not need to remain close to him- you feared it would be rude to simply drift away without a word. 

        You still did not trust Loki. His moods were difficult to predict, and every small act of kindness seemed to come at a price.

        He had taken care to ensure you were not simply forgotten at the banquet the night before, but he had also used that opportunity to use you for his own amusement. 

        His words often left you feeling childish, though you recognized that none of them had been explicitly cruel.  

        When he had invaded your dreams, he had manipulated you into speaking candidly, and reacted harshly when he did not like what he heard. 

        Now, the map that had seemed to be a gift, had left you ensnared in a new game. 

        Agreeing to participate was far from the wisest decision you had made, but the thrill of discovering hidden corners of the palace was too alluring to ignore. Lulled into a sense of security by the conversation that had preceded it, you had allowed your curiosity to speak louder than your common sense. 

        It had surprised you how easily he overlooked your criticisms-particularly as you wrist still ached from the way he had gripped it in your dream. Yet now, because of him, you finally felt just comfortable enough to enjoy your time exploring the grounds. Even if it meant he gained some sort of control over you. 

        At the very least, you felt safer now that you had pried some sort of vow of protection from him. Though there was no way to know for sure that he would keep his word, you somehow felt sure he wouldn't let you come to any serious harm-if only for his own benefit. 

        You remembered the look in his eye as he had explained the game to you. Hungry and unshakable, you knew deep down that he craved this as much as you did. Though he did his best to seem aloof, you knew that he would do what it took to keep you from losing interest; and that would be a tool you could tuck away for a later date.

        The map itself, you felt,  was well worth any trouble. As you walked, you kept your eyes trained on the open page, watching your mark move down the halls as you passed its various landmarks and shifting illustrations. You hated to admit it was a work of art in its own right, and pondered if the spell that had formed the map was what gave it the depth and detail; or if perhaps the young prince had artistic interests you had not expected. 

        Most of the unfinished spots that marked your ‘secret’ destinations were far off your current path, making it difficult for you to glean anything about them. As you rounded a corner, however, you realized that you were passing along one of the unknown locations.  A long wall of open arches came into view, opening out onto a wide terrace where you could see the bright, silver moonlight dancing across the foliage of the lush gardens beyond. 

        You brow furrowed as you lagged behind for a moment. Hadn’t Loki implied that the places he had marked were ‘underappreciated’? By no measure did that describe the palace gardens. As one of the most well known features of the Palace, you could only assume there had been some sort of mistake. It seemed possible that, over time, those who lived within its walls had grown immune to their beauty; though you couldn’t imagine how. 

        What's more, they were massive. The tiny shard of glass that was supposedly hidden in it could be anywhere, and if by some horrible chance it snowed during your visit it would likely vanish forever. Putting your notebook away, you ran your finger along the outside of your ear- pondering how one would politely ask royalty if they had lost their mind. 

        “I can hear you thinking from here.” Loki chided, glancing at you over his shoulder. It shook you abruptly from your thoughts. 

        “Forgive me. I was watching the map as we went, and I noted that one of the ‘ under appreciated’ locations you mentioned appears to be the gardens.” You said, incredulously. 

        Loki slowed his pace till he walked alongside you. “Indeed it is.” He replied, eyes taking you in curiously.

        “So you have hidden one of the shards in there?”

        “I have.” He said, clearly amused. “Does that concern you?” 

        "A bit, yes.” You admitted, fidgeting with your ear. “They’re quite well known, and… well, expansive.” 

        “That they are; though you are not obligated to begin there.” He said with a playful grin. “I would hate to see you so intimidated so early.” 

        “I am far from intimidated.” You insisted, but Loki seemed unconvinced. “I simply want to evaluate my options. As the largest location, I think it would be wise for me to begin there.” 

        “You don’t even know what the other locations are, yet. How can you know this is the largest?” 

        You shot him an incredulous look. “Is there anywhere larger than the gardens in this palace?” 

        “Well, no-”

        “Then I think I can safely say this to be the biggest challenge.” 

        The Prince sighed, seemingly unsure how to respond. His silence was a rare occurrence, so you would enjoy it while you could. The two of you continued side by side, footsteps falling into a rhythm as they echoed against the walls. There was a strange comfort to it-one that extended beyond just the reprieve from his taunting. 

        “Did you know that the gardens themselves are segmented?” Loki said thoughtfully. “Divided by the realms from which the plants originate.”

        “I.... did not.” 

        “Obviously those that come from Asgard are the most well known, and the ones that thrive best here, but there are others that often go overlooked. Ones that bloom only when most prefer to stay inside.” 

        You blinked, somewhat caught off guard that he so readily offered a hint; and though you were not entirely sure what he meant, it was at least a place to start. 

        “Thank you, Loki.” 

        “You’re quite welcome.” he replied, quite taken with himself. “I take it that means you won't give up on the game this early?”

        “Of course not.” you snapped. 

        “I am glad to hear it.” He grinned. “I would have been most disappointed if you gave up so quickly-  but you do not strike me as someone so weak-willed.” 

        You met his eyes and the glimmer of mirth therein. Once more, your mouth acted before your mind could object. 

        “Why must you be so remarkably condescending?” 

        Loki’s brows rose as high as they could on his face, the look of surprise quickly giving way to a wicked fire that lit behind his eyes. 

        “Have you forgotten? I am a God- the God of Mischief and Lies.” He teased. “Not to mention, of course, that I am a Prince of Asgard.”

        “I was not aware that looking down on others was required of Royalty.” 

        “Good lady, there are two beings in all of the nine realms above me. Only they have the right to speak down to me, and I regret to inform you that you are neither of them.” 

        “So your reasoning is that your station entitles you to it?” 

        “Yes, because it does.” He laughed, seemingly surprised you would even question it. You simply stared at him in disbelief. It had not been unclear to you that Loki was self involved- but you had not anticipated just how shameless he would be about it. Your disbelief only seemed to amuse him further, and you had to stop quickly as he stepped in front of you. His eyes held yours with a smug delight. 

        “Come now.” He purred. “ Where is the woman who was so eager to disillusion me last night?” 

        “She has been thoroughly banished.” You snapped. “As I am considerably more eager to keep my head on my shoulders than act as your tutor.” 

        His smile faltered almost imperceptibly as he rolled his eyes. “I’m wounded you think so little of me.” he said with half-hearted disappointment “You must understand that were I to take the head of every fool who spoke to me that way, there wouldn’t be a single soul left alive in all of Asgard.” 

        You had expected that Loki would be far better at hiding his emotions than this. The bitterness in his words was about as well hidden as the Palace itself was on the skyline of Asgard. 

        “Surely not many would dare speak so harshly to a Prince .” 

        "Were we speaking of Thor, then I would have to agree with you.” He sighed. “But Alas, you’ve found yourself in the company of a lesser Prince.” 

        You were unsure how to respond. Your first instinct was to comfort him, but you hadn't a clue how. Comforting royalty seemed a precarious task, particularly when it came to Loki. 

        Admittedly, you were familiar with how it felt to be seen as lesser. As far as nobility was concerned, you and your family barely qualified. No one ever boasted when you accepted their invitation, nor had they ever clamored for your attention, or even so much as desired a modicum of your approval. As a child, it had gnawed at something deep inside you; only intensifying when you found yourself surrounded by those of noble status. 

        Over time, you made a point to avoid such gatherings, and slowly found you had no need for what high society had to offer. Bit by bit the sting began to fade, and you found your place elsewhere- among friends and loved ones- crafting your own world as an escape from the one into which you had been born. 

        You couldn’t imagine such escapes existed for those of royal blood. 

        It was almost enough to elicit a hint of pity towards him. 

        “If you’re to look at me like that,” Loki said, his tone warning. “I would prefer you not look at me at all.”

        You sighed, and quickly decided an apology would only serve to further sour the atmosphere. 

        “How would you prefer me to look at you, my Prince?” You quipped, your dramatic curtsey significantly more stable than the one the night before. To your relief, he smiled. 

        Leaning back on his heels, Loki observed you down the line of his nose. He tried to look as thoughtful as possible beneath the smug grin on his face, never once removing his eyes from yours. 

        You felt your heart warm despite yourself. 

        “Well, I must admit that you are strangely enticing when you’re angry.” 

        As you flushed from head to toe-more with anger than embarrassment- his whole body seemed to respond with absolute delight- an abrupt laugh echoing across the walls. 

        “If you’re not careful you might permanently become that shade of-” 

        Loki’s head snapped up, like a hare alerted to a fox by the snapping of a twig. He turned quickly and began to walk once more, nodding for you to follow. 

        “Loki, what is-” He held up his hand, urging you to be silent. You barely had a moment to register the hallway that appeared to your right before you felt him push you unceremoniously around the corner. You nearly shouted in surprise, but it was stifled as his hand clamped firmly down over your mouth. 

        His other hand wrapped around the back of your head, preventing it from cracking hard against the stone as he shoved you roughly up against the wall. You grabbed at his wrists, terrified and disoriented, but as you tried to shove him off his whole weight seemed to keep you firmly in place.

        “Be quiet.” He hissed.

        You froze, looking up to meet his eyes. His gaze was focused not on you, but on the larger hallway beyond; and when you could finally hear above the blood that pounded in your ears, you registered the sound of approaching footsteps. In terror, you wondered exactly what could elicit such a reaction from him. 

        Releasing your hold on his wrists, you tapped gently on the hand he kept over your mouth. It seemed to pull his attention back to you for a moment, and he shifted his hand to ensure your nose was clear- but did not remove it from your face.

        Loki leaned in close, and heat washed across your skin as you heard him whisper softly mere inches from your ear, 

        “You are to stay here.” He ordered, “Do not move or make a sound until I return for you, do you understand?” You looked at him with confusion, but nodded all the same. 

        Slowly he withdrew, watching you as if he expected to have to grab you before you bolted or screamed; but you remained still. A strange hunger flickered behind his eyes as he grinned at you.

        “Good girl.” He hummed through a wolfish grin. 

        You could have killed him for it. 

        Before you had the chance, he disappeared around the corner and back into the hall- leaving you to massage your aching jaw. 

        Your own touch was enough to alleviate at least some of the pain, but something nagged at the back of your mind you couldn’t quite place. You began to run your fingers up and down your jawline until it hit you. 

        As much as you focused on every minute detail from a few moments before, you realized you could not remember anything about what Loki felt like. 

        It was a strange thing not to remember. Had his hands been rough, or soft? Warm or cold? Despite the inordinate amount of leather he wore, there was no smell of it, nor did it make a sound as it had brushed against your own clothes. Even when he was so close to your ear, you had felt no breath whatsoever. He had been pressed right against you, and had felt like nothing more than a featureless weight. 

        You considered the illusion of him you had seen before- and how your pen had passed straight through it. 

        Could illusions be made tangible? 

        Before you could consider it too deeply, a low voice came rolling across the walls. 

        “Prince Loki.” The stranger said with polite disdain. “What a surprise to find you wandering the halls so very late.”

        “Captain Baldur!” Loki replied, with equal contempt. “How strange to see you up so early.” 

        “It’s become very important to be about early if I am to keep an eye on the likes of you.” 

        The Captain’s tone was sharp, and you were unsettled by how reflexively your body tensed at the sound. 

        “Ah yes,” Loki sneered. “I imagine it gets harder and harder to keep up with the young as you get on in years.”

        “Quite right.” Baldur replied. “I find it’s harder and harder to patiently chase after children with each passing year.”

        The way the two men spoke to one another, it seemed as if they hoped they could set their opponent aflame with words alone.You could taste their bitterness in the air, and the familiar prickle on the back of your neck made you wonder how long Loki could manage to keep his composure. 

        You desperately wanted to be anywhere but here. 

        “Speaking of age.” Baldur said pointedly. “I fear my ears play tricks on me now and again; so if you would indulge me- are you alone tonight?” 

        “Do you seek my company, Captain?.” Loki mocked. “I am quite flattered. Regretfully, however, I must decline. I do fear what such activity might do to your frail little heart.” 

        “A shame.” Baldur said his words thick with irritation. “Is that a yes, then? You are alone? Or are you trying to hide someone?” 

        “Dear Captain, who would I have to hide?” 

        “That is what I would like to know.”

        Loki sighed. “It’s always such a shame when the mind goes.” 

        The Captain did not respond. Instead, you began to hear footsteps-much heavier and more methodical than Loki’s-begin to make their way towards you from down the hall.

        “Bored of me already?” The young prince called after him. 

        “Simply doing my due diligence.” Baldur replied, dismissively. 

        As your heart began to race, you considered your options- though they were upsettingly few. 

        If you were to run, you were sure you would be heard; and while you were still unsure why you needed to hide, the Captain’s voice alone had caused you enough fear to believe it was warranted. 

        If you stood still, however, it seemed impossible you wouldn’t be found. Were you to trust Loki would distract him before he reached you? As the footsteps grew closer it seemed increasingly unlikely.

        When the figure appeared around the corner, you nearly screamed; only barely managing to clap your hand over your mouth in time.

        The man who towered above you was broad and powerful. Where it had been clear that the princes had earned their strength through focused training, the Captain looked as if he had been etched from a lifetime of hardship. He was clad in an armor nearly identical to those of the rank and file Einherjar you had encountered, but boasted adornments that verified his status as Captain of the guard. His hair was a dusty blonde, and his eyes a colorless grey-his features round and dull. 

        From where you stood, he was remarkably intimidating; but perhaps that was because he was staring directly at you. Your stomach churned as you waited for him to shout, or tear you back into the wider hallway, but- much to your surprise-he seemed to look right through you. His eyes moved across the side hall in which you stood, but before long, he seemed satisfied that there was nothing there. 

        He can’t see me…

        You realized the prickle you had felt earlier was not caused by Loki’s anger, but instead by a spell clearly meant to hide your presence. It was  an act of composure and foresight on the part of your companion for which you were grateful. 

        With a look of disappointment, the beast of a man withdrew from the hall and turned back to the young prince. 

        “Just my ears, then.” He said bitterly.

        “So sorry, my friend. You know how much I hate to disappoint.” 

        You wondered what exactly had conspired between them to foster such hatred, but knowing Loki, there was probably no single incident to point to; but instead a lifetime of petty disagreements. 

        “I am sure it’s only a matter of time.” Baldur replied coolly. “Until then, my prince , enjoy your night.” 

        “You as well, Captain.” 

        You could almost hear his triumphant grin from here. 

        There were a few moments of tense silence before either party moved. While you desperately wanted to look around the corner to see what transpired, you didn’t dare in case it broke whatever spell kept you from sight. 

        The Captain was the first to relent, his heavy footsteps making their way towards, and then past you as he marched down the hall. Thankfully, he did not give so much as a glance in your direction. 

        Neither you nor Loki moved until, at last, Baldur’s footsteps faded away. You let out a breath you had been holding for what felt like an eternity, letting your weight fall fully onto the wall behind you. Hand pressed to your chest, you tried to force your heart to slow- something quickly undone as Loki promptly manifested in front of you, causing you to jump. 

        You glowered at him, but he grinned as if you had just won the realm's most ridiculous game of hide and seek. 

        “ Wonderfully done.” He beamed. 

        Your fists tightened as you resisted the urge to hit him. 

        “What in Hel’s name was that? ” 

        Loki waved his hand dismissively. “Yet another devoted resident of the Palace checking in on their beloved Prince.” he scoffed. “He has been simply overjoyed to see me alive and well.” 

        “I can tell.” You groaned, massaging your temples. “Was it necessary for me to hide?”

        Loki nodded. “If he spotted us together, then he would likely treat you just as warmly as he treats me.” The thought was not a pleasant one. “ I decided it might be best to spare you that level of adoration .” 

        “It is very much appreciated.”

        You could only imagine dealing with such a person on a regular basis if they took a dislike to you so early.  It was possible the whole of the Einherjar would treat you less than fondly were that to be the case- and there was only so much contention you cared to deal with, even if it were only for a week. 

        Loki watched you as you attempted to regain your composure. With a soft sigh he moved slowly closer until he was less than an arms length away. He kept his head low, ensuring his eyes could hold yours, their expression uncharacteristically gentle.  

        “Are you alright, my lady?” he asked, gently. “You seem quite shaken.” 

        You eyed him warily as he approached, unsure what his intentions were-but Loki simply remained still, waiting for your response. 

        “I’m fine .” You said with a sigh. “I simply hadn’t expected to need to be so constantly... on guard while I was here.”

        He laughed. “It’s dangerous to let your guard down anywhere , my Lady-but that is especially so in the Palace.” 

        Loki’s crooked finger settled itself under your chin, and once again you noted the absence of… well… anything. No temperature or texture gave any indication of what you assumed to be basic characteristics. There was only the gentle pressure of his finger as it lifted your chin. 

        Your eyes met his, their cold blue seeming to look straight through you. 

         Narrowing your eyes, you studied him just as intently as he studied you. 

        “Now that you mention it,” you said, sarcastically “I remember hearing stories of dangerous young men who roam the palace halls.” 

        Loki’s eyes lit up. “Did you now?” He teased. “Tell me, what do those stories say?”

        You grinned in spite of yourself. “Quite a bit, my Prince. I have heard of horrible men who move about like ghosts; making words appear on paper, spilling drinks, invading young women’s dreams...” 

        “Absolutely horrifying .” He said, wryly. “Do they also dip young ladies' hair in ink and throw their toys into the river?” 

        “I certainly hope not.” You scoffed. “That would be a step too far, don't you think?” 

        His laugh echoed loudly enough in the halls you almost feared Baldur would return. Something strange shifted in your stomach as you felt Loki relax ever so slightly. When his hand finally released your chin, you almost felt disappointed. Taking a step back, he assessed you quietly for a moment. 

        “I have always thought that young boys who dip a girl's hair in ink simply thought the color might be more flattering on them.” He mused

        “I dare say they should at least consider what color the lady might prefer- ink doesn’t always give one too many colors to choose from.” 

        “I suppose that depends on the man.” he smirked, taking an idle step back. “Though I myself tend to only keep one or two colors on hand.” 

        “All the more reason you should refrain.” You warned, trying to sound serious despite the smile that crept its way onto your face.

        “Be more adventurous , my lady!” he hummed. “Sometimes people just... need a little push to find a color that suits them.” His eyes moved up and down your form, leaving you to feel frightfully exposed. “For example, my lady,” he continued with a roguish grin “ I think you would look absolutely stunning in green.” 

Chapter Text

        When you arrived in the banquet hall, you did so alone. Loki had taken his leave the very moment the doors were in sight, which was just as well. After you had left the hallway your conversation had dried up. In his eyes you could see that his mind wandered elsewhere, and you did not care to disturb him. You had enough to ponder on your own. 

        The noise in the hall was immediately overwhelming, though in a much different way than the night previous. There were far fewer in attendance, but as your head began to ache every sound seemed to strike your ears tenfold. Nerves raw, you wished you could simply return to your quarters-or at least somewhere quiet-but you were not a Prince, you were a guest. 

        You took your place beside your mother, grateful she could read you well. Though you had long since perfected the smile and mask that hid away much of your anxieties and pains from strangers, your mother knew every last micro expression by heart. She diverted much of the conversation away from you, her fingers tracing small, soothing circles on your back. 

        Food had little appeal, but you picked away at it; stomaching what little you could. Below the table you massaged the muscles in your forearms, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in them. Your shoulders would have to wait until later. 

        Drifting away into your own mind, your thoughts lingered over the Captain of the Guard-and how strongly Loki had reacted to his presence. Baldur’s voice alone had made you uneasy. It had weighed on your chest like stone; like he could hold you in place with a single command. You understood how he could unsettle someone like Loki. What's more, it was clear they had centuries of conflict between them-and you were unsure who could be labeled the instigator. 

        Never in your wildest fantasies had you imagined the Palace to be full of so many dangers. You had encountered two short tempered men in as many days-and there was no escaping them. 

        Fortunately, Captain Baldur was unaware of your presence as of yet-or at least you hoped he was. Loki however, was inescapable. 

        You wouldn’t have to worry about Baldur were it not for Loki.

        Trouble followed the young Prince- The God of Mischief- wherever he went; and with his attention on you, it would undoubtedly come your way as well. Still, something in you could not resent him for it. He was an unknown to you, which made him dangerous, but he had also been unusually charming. Loki had brought you into an adventure all your own; allowing you to explore the Palace and see things you likely would not have known to look for had it not been for him.  You wondered if that was enough to undo the way he had hurt you in your dream. 

        By the time you returned safely to your quarters, your limbs had turned to lead. Nearly collapsing against the door as it closed, you sank down, allowing every muscle to release your weight. You considered a bath. The heat of the water would likely wash away any aches and pains from the day, but you wondered if you could remain awake long enough to do so. Your body cried out for rest, and you would not deny it. Hanging away your dress, you slipped into your nightgown, and buried yourself beneath the blankets and furs. 

        Your body was grateful, relaxing immediately into the soft mattress; but your mind was less willing. Worries and fears raced in your head. For what felt like hours you wrestled desperately for control, but it was no use. You surrendered bitterly to the fact that you would be denied restful sleep for the second night in a row-and you would likely pay dearly for it tomorrow. 

        Your arms protested as you pushed yourself upright in bed. There were options, you supposed, to help you fall asleep. Though paltry, the collection of books around the fireplace could help quiet your mind- as could reviewing your notes- but neither sounded particularly appealing to you. Instead, you found yourself slipping gently out from beneath your covers, pulling one of the furs around your shoulders to help keep away the night chill. A small thread of light cast itself through a gap in the curtains, and you followed it like a trail to the balcony. 

        The moon was still high, its light bright enough that you needed a moment to adjust. The glow painted the golden city a shimmering silver; and restless winds pulled at your hair as they carried the smell of woodsmoke across the open sky. The hush of the sleeping realm seemed to lift the ache from your shoulders, and as you stepped out onto the frigid stone, you felt fully awake and aware. 

        The stone balustrade was just as cold as the stone of the balcony itself, but you rested your arms on it all the same. You ignored the sharp prickling that the cold sent across your skin, determined to enjoy this peaceful atmosphere; if only for a short while. 

        Above you, the Asgardian sky shimmered with starlight- the heavenly bodies shifting and flashing against the ribbons of color cast by the distant bands of your galaxy. 

        Below you, the royal gardens stretched in every direction, disappearing as they wrapped around the sides of the Palace. It was a carefully planned design of every last thing that grew on Asgard. Rows of trees, bushes, and flowers wove around one another in ways you could truly only appreciate from above; and you could only imagine what it might look like in spring. For now, much of it was bare and colorless as winter crept ever closer. 

        You had seen glimpses of the gardens in full bloom in the past, but never had you been given the chance to see it like this- and now you had the opportunity to wander through it as you pleased. Or, at least, you had a task that awaited you there. 

        Somewhere, hidden amidst all that was a single shard of glass; and Loki expected you to find it. It struck you as a nearly impossible task- something that was only achievable by the most technical of definitions. Had you months to examine every inch of the grounds, perhaps you would feel more confident-but you would have to find four shards in five days, which left you little room for error. 

        Would Loki trick you into an unwinnable game?

        Something in you found it unlikely. He was devious, and likely not to play fair, but he was also quite proud. To win a game when your opponent had no chance of succeeding seemed dull-and unfulfilling. Besides, he had been the one to invite you to play. 

        “Did you know that the gardens themselves are segmented?”

        Loki’s words returned to you slowly. A hint, you were sure, but you saw nothing that would indicate a divide in the grounds below. He had shared with you that these supposed segments divided plants by realm, but everything you saw before you seemed familiar. 

        Pushing up onto your toes, you leaned as far over the balustrade as you dared. Turning to your left and right you stared intently, hoping to find some sort of mark or divider that would confirm that you had not just been lied to. 

        Thankfully, somewhere to the west, you spotted a second terrace-much like the one below you. Beyond it, a stone wall that nearly vanished beneath the vines that covered its surface. 

        It was a start. 

        Despite the cold, you realized that now would be the opportune time to search the grounds alone. There would be no one to question you, or reprimand you if you had to resort to digging through foliage to find your objective. 

        You turned back to your room, pushing through the curtains and discarding the fur back onto your bed. As you pulled open your wardrobe you realized just how few options you had available to you. You had not prepared to be wandering about in the dead of night, and begrudgingly you admitted that the green dress you had been avoiding was the best option you had. 

        At least you will be alone .

        You hoped so. 

        The night air against your bare skin was insufferable, so you changed as quickly as you could manage, giving yourself a moment to let your heat sink into the cool fabric before reaching for your notebook. You briefly checked to ensure you would be able to read the pages with moonlight alone, since bringing an additional light with you would only make you more conspicuous. You considered that shoes might do the same, echoing in the halls as you moved. The stone would be cold, but it seemed worth it if you could avoid unwanted attention. You took the smallest pair you owned and kept them in hand, knowing you would not be able to stand walking barefoot against the cold, damp earth in the gardens. 

        Fortunately, your parents had long since gone to sleep. Closing the door to the suite with utmost care, you found yourself in the near deafening silence of the hallways. 

        You hadn't quite grown accustomed to the bustling sounds of the Palace over the last two days, but so late at night there was not so much as a footstep to be heard. It sparked your nerves once more, and the tension in your shoulders returned. Forcing your mind elsewhere, you tried to devise a plan of attack. 

        By now it was far closer to sunrise than sunset; and you could not circle the entire palace before dawn-let alone search every inch of the garden. 

        “Obviously those that come from Asgard are the most well known and the ones that thrive best here, but there are others that often go overlooked. Ones that bloom only when most prefer to stay inside.’”

        At present, both the dark of night and cold seemed sufficient motivators to keep people indoors and away from the gardens. If the gardens were divided by realm-and your assumptions were correct-you would likely be looking for a one that met one of those two descriptors. “Dark” seemed unlikely to fit any particularly well, so you opted to focus on “cold”. 

        If that were the case, Svartalfheim, Nidavellir, and Muspelheim were realms you would not even consider. Each was largely devoid of life-or far too hot-to meet the requirements. Asgard and Alfheim were also unlikely candidates, as they were far too temperate.  Midgard and Vaneheim held potential; both boasting colder weather, but they were nothing compared to the icy temperatures of Niflheim and Jotunheim. 

        Had you not known better from your mother’s old trade books, you might have assumed neither of the latter two would have even a single plant to be placed in a garden- but as it was, you knew there were at least a few herbs and grasses that grew in even the most frigid of landscapes. 

        If you were lucky, it would be in one of those two. Less foliage meant fewer places to search, and an easier game. They would be quick to eliminate and, if that failed, you would search Vaneheim. Were you forced to search Midgard, you realized you would likely never find it.

        Your next step would be to decide which direction to walk. Knowing which way to go might be the difference between success and failure. Both options hinged on how the gardens themselves were arranged. While it was possible they were arranged based on their proximity to Asgard itself, it seemed more likely to you that they would be set based on the needs of the plants they contained. If you were to find plants that thrived best in the cold and dark, west of the palace would be your best option. An eastward garden would get the full brunt of the morning sun- the northern and southern gardens would get some degree of direct sun throughout the entire day. Only the western side of the palace would get the reduced intensity of the setting sun- which seemed much better for a cold weather plant.

        Still, you were no gardener. It was all based on wild assumptions-nothing more. You simply had to hope. 

        When the garden terrace came into view, you hesitated-slipping your shoes onto your feet before stepping cautiously onto it. You drank in the night air, watching as the gardens unfurled before you. You could easily recognize the flora of your home realm even though much of it lay dead or dormant. 

        The empty branches of the trees scraped against the open sky- their shade turning the moonlight into webs of silver lace upon the ground. A winding path of small stepping stones branched from the base of the stairs, leading to both the east and west.

        You made your way from stone to stone, heading west through a grove of tightly knit trees. Faded flower beds, and bushes that clung desperately to the very last of their leaves lined the walkway. Though you scanned the ground only casually, it was easy to see that a true examination of the gardens would require much more than a passing glance. Once you reached the gardens of Niflheim and Jotunheim you would have to look more carefully. Perhaps, if they were as sparse as you anticipated them to be, the moonlight would strike the glass, making it glow against the dark browns of the earth. You could only hope. 

        After a while, the second terrace you had seen from your room came into view. From there you had somehow overlooked the massive tree that had been planted in the middle of it. Bare branches reached out in every direction, with strange round clusters of greenery appearing sporadically along the limbs. Small white berries dotted these spheres, and they shone brightly against the night sky. It was a plant you had rarely seen before, but one you knew was associated with particular Midgardian customs. 

        That must mean…

        Looking around the tree your eyes found the stone wall covered in vines. An archway opened the path between realms, and you hurried through it. 

        The flora of Midgard was lovely, and it’s part of the royal gardens was just as vast as you had anticipated. Much of it seemed to thrive in the colder months; and you delighted in the trees whose  leaves had shifted to lovely reds and yellows, just as much as you marveled at the ones that retained their brilliant green. You would have to bring your parents here come morning. 

        Soon, Midgard became Vaniheim, the realm’s lush greenery thriving much better in the cold than the previous two. At its end, you found the next archway-but as you passed through, the temperature seemed to drop drastically. 

        You shivered violently against the cold, and it took you a few moments to realize exactly why there had been such a change. 

        Tall grasses of vibrant red, trees of emerald green,  and small, budding flowers that barely poked their heads above the earth. Something, or someone, had taken great care to set some sort of spell to keep this area as cold as possible.  

        How else would you maintain the flora of Jotunheim? 

        A new chill ran across your skin, this time not from cold. As a child, you had been raised with the horrifying stories of the Jotun and their brutality. You had heard of their treatment of the people of Midgard, and the battles fought to keep them at bay. As you grew, you had hoped them only stories- but when they had invaded the palace two years prior you were reminded of how mistaken you had truly been. 

        You couldn’t fathom how the Young Prince might find this section to be under-appreciated-but you would have to pass through it to find Nifelheim, so it seemed pointless not to at least check. 

        In the middle of the garden was a wide pond, deep and clear. You walked slowly over, watching your breath pool into white mist as it left your lips. If whatever spell guarded this place kept this area any colder in the winter, you were sure it would make the very blood in your veins freeze in an instant. 

          Although the surface of the pond was frozen over, you could see strange bulbous fish swimming about below. To your surprise, the waters seemed to boast more plant life than the land above. Long tendrils of green reached towards the surface, small corals made homes for small creatures, and strange clams seemed to have taken up their place in the frosted waters. 

        It made sense to you that things could thrive better beneath the waters in Jotunheim than on land. While you had heard the realm did boast forests, the limited selection in this section of the garden implied they were fairly homogeneous. Still, their brilliant colors must look stunning in a realm covered in deep snow. It was a shame it was inhabited by foul creatures like the Frost Giants. 

        Moving slowly and meticulously along the pathways, you wondered if it was too much to hope you would find the shard here. It was sparse, and the dominance of reds and greens made you certain that something blue would stand out. 

        Would Loki make it that easy for you?

        It seemed doubtful, particularly if this was the most difficult area he had in store. Scouring the earth to no avail, you became increasingly frustrated. Did he expect you to dig through the brush to find it? Or perhaps get down on your hands and knees to push aside fallen leaves? 

        It wasn’t behavior befitting a lady, and while you would never allow yourself to be seen doing such a thing-you were here alone, and you would not give him the satisfaction. 

        At least, you thought you were alone; until something like the sound of shifting gravel met your ears. You froze. The sound had come from somewhere on the other side of the dividing wall, and you sank quickly to your knees, hoping to keep yourself as small as possible. 

        Hopefully you had just imagined it, or maybe you had simply heard a small animal, or the wind. 

        Or maybe it was Loki .

        If anyone was to try and sneak up on you in the dead of night, you would bet good money it would be him. 

        The sound of shifting earth marked another footstep-then another, and another. Whoever it was, it was no animal. The steps were far too steady-too even and controlled- to be an animal. Someone was trying to move slowly and quietly to remain out of sight. 

        You almost prayed to feel the telltale prickle against the back of your neck that would tell you that it was Loki, but it never came. 

        What sort of person is out in the gardens at this hour?

        You were here, yes, but there were extenuating circumstances.  Anyone else was likely there for some sort of clandestine meeting- either with a lover or co-conspirator- and you had no interest in encountering either. 

        The situation sank in slowly as the footsteps grew closer, and instinct began to take hold. You settled yourself lower, taking your skirts in one hand and slipping your shoes off with the other. It seemed silly that hours of playing with childhood friends in the forests would come in handy at a moment such as this-but you were grateful for old habits to lean upon. 

        Your first want was to run, to get as far away from the unknown stranger as possible; but how far would you make it without shoes, in the dark, in an unfamiliar environment?

        You could hide, but there were few places for that in this garden-if any-and you feared your own frosted breath would give you away.

        It seemed possible you could just remain where you were. You had not been told you weren’t allowed to be here, so perhaps a hasty departure would only make you seem more suspicious. 

        Whatever you chose, it would have to be soon. 

        You kept low behind a cluster of bright red grasses, hoping their color would hide you from sight. It would not keep you concealed for long, but you only needed it to protect you long enough for another path out to make itself clear. 

        Eyes trained on the archway, you held your breath. A shadowed figure moved slowly into view, pausing cautiously at the threshold before they stepped out into the light.

        Your stomach sank as a hulking silhouette became clear- his dull blonde hair unmistakable in the open. 

        “It will do you no good to hide.” Baldur sneered. “I heard you. I know you're there.” His words mocked you, cloyingly sweet as they dripped from his lips. “It would be best to show yourself now, while I still have patience.” 

        The Captain of the guard moved slowly and deliberately though the garden, hand on his blade and eyes alert. If he caught you now, you would surely look guilty-hidden down in the dirt, shoeless and frightened. Hiding would be your only option for now. 

        Your teeth sank into the soft flesh of your lip, and your head grew light as you did your best to hold your breath steady despite your pounding heart. Baldur made his way from spot to spot, searching wherever he assumed someone would be able to hide-and curiously, whirling about every now and then, as if he expected someone to leap out behind him. 

        You felt you likely knew why. After only two days with the Captain’s least favorite member of the royal family, you felt on edge-it was difficult to imagine what centuries could do. 

        Slowly, things morphed in to a strange game of cat and mouse. You stayed low, stepping only when he stepped, moving as he moved in order to avoid detection. Gravel and fallen branches dug painfully into your feet and hands until they were sore. Postures and poses you were unaccustomed to taxed your muscles until your limbs began to shake with effort. You heartbeat was so loud you feared he would hear it with ease, but when Baldur finally let go of his blade, forehead wrought with frustration, you felt a wave of relief.

        He wandered, perplexed, towards the next archway- and the moment he was out of sight you pushed yourself to your feet and ran. 

        Ignoring the sharp pain as the stones dug into your skin, you tore back along the path through which you had come, fear turning your blood white hot in your veins. You had to make it back to the halls, or at least back to the Asgardian gardens before you were spotted. 

        You had barely made it through the archway back to the next segment before you felt the wet earth beneath your feet give way. Colliding hard with the ground, you made enough noise that you were almost certain he would have heard you- and the sudden sharp grinding of boots against stone only confirmed it. Scrambling to your feet you took off again. If you could find yourself in the Midgardian section, perhaps you could find a place to hide amid all the green that still remained.

        But you have to make it there first. 

        The cold air burned in your lungs, even as you escaped the frosted air of Jotunheim, and your legs screamed in protest as you tried your best to stay ahead of the quickly approaching footfalls. When the first cluster of evergreens came into view, you nearly threw yourself into their branches, tucking yourself firmly against them, hoping your gown would keep you invisible in the night. 

        Baldur appeared only seconds later, barely winded by the chase. His blade was drawn now, and he paused to listen, realizing quickly he could no longer hear your movements. While the plentiful clusters of needles surrounding you did well to keep you from his sight- it unfortunately equally kept him from yours. You lost track of him in moments, relying on your ears to tell you where he was-not that it would do you much good anymore. If you were to move even an inch, you would be heard and caught-though it seemed increasingly likely you would no matter what you did. 

        It was the same worry of being heard that kept you from pulling your notebook from your pocket as well. You had felt so clever for demanding Loki’s promise of protection, but now when you needed it most, it was too much of a risk to even use it. 

        You were so caught in your thoughts, that you did not hear the sound of someone approaching behind you; but as soon as a large, meaty hand clamped down over your shoulder, you let out a frightened scream. 

        Fingers digging into the soft flesh, Baldur wrenched you out from between the branches, dragging you out into the open walkway, and whirling you around to face him. 

        A twisted grin warped his face, his eyes wild and greedy as he looked you over. 

        “Were you missing home, Laufeyson?”

        What? 

        You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Had you heard him correctly? Did he think you a frost giant? Surely you were far too short for that. 

        Before you could respond, his hand slid from your shoulder to the bare skin of your wrist clamping down around it tightly. 

        You didn’t even have time to yelp before his expression turned to one of pure shock, and he recoiled-almost as if he had touched an open flame. 

        “Who in Hel’s name are you? ” He hissed. 

        Taking the opportunity to create some space between the two of you, you stepped back-far enough to keep you out of the reach of his blade. 

        “Stay back!” You yelled, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. “Stay back or I’ll scream!”

        Screaming would do you no good, of course.  Not only was the whole palace asleep, but were someone to respond and see you with the captain of the guard, they would likely assume the situation had been handled. No one would come to your aid.

        For a few breathless moments Baldur inspected you closely, seemingly waiting for something-though you couldn’t be sure what. 

        When at last he sheathed his blade, you could not manage to make yourself relax. His face had become frighteningly severe, and he stalked towards you with the authority of a man who knew he could not be questioned. 

        “Identify yourself, woman.” He barked. “What inspired you to lurk about the royal gardens at such an hour?”

        Lurk?

        As if you were any threat to anyone in the palace, let alone the angry mountain before you.

        “I am here in the Palace as a guest of the Crown Prince.” 

        Throwing your shoulders back, you tried to mirror the intimidating aura he sought to pin you beneath. 

        “I found myself restless and sought to settle my mind in the gardens. I did not know such a thing was forbidden.” You snapped. 

        “And you found solace in the Jotun gardens, did you?” He asked through a poorly concealed grin. 

        “I found it in every garden I passed through, sir.” 

        “Why did you run?” 

        “I am a woman alone in the gardens at night. Is it so implausible that an armed man shouting after me might be enough of a reason?” 

        Clearly not. Holding your eyes, he seemed to wait for you to offer a better explanation-frowning deeply when you did not. 

        “An interesting color, your gown. Particularly for a guest of the Crown Prince.” 

        “Strange for a man in a garden to have such a distaste for the color green.” You replied coolly.

        He glowered, displeased that you would not answer him directly. It seemed at least part of Loki was rubbing off on you.

        “Sir, if I was mistaken and I am not allowed here, I ask that you tell me now.” You pressed.  

        His eyes narrowed. “It would be best that you not wander unsupervised at this hour.” 

        “Is that a yes?” 

        “Woman,” he said through gritted teeth. “you will leave now . I do not have the patience to ask you again.” 

        You nearly scoffed at the word ‘ask’. It was not a request, but a command-one you clearly had no choice but to obey. You hated the idea of losing such a precious opportunity to search the grounds, but so long as the captain had his eyes on you no progress would be made; not without revealing your connection to Loki. 

        “As you command, sir.” You replied, curtsying low. Despite the mud that now stained your skirts, you attempted to retain as much dignity as you could muster. Head held high, you turned and walked away as slowly as you could convince your hammering heart was reasonable. The moment you felt you were well out of sight, however, you began to run as fast as your aching feet would carry you-not stopping for a single moment until you were safely back behind your bedroom door. 

Chapter Text

        Dawn came slowly. 

        After returning, out of breath, to your room; you collapsed onto your bed. 

        Eyes trained on the ceiling, the mere thought of encountering the Captain again kept you from finding any rest. You had no way of knowing what consequences might follow, or if Baldur would weaponize your blunder against you. If the man made Loki-someone with power and authority-uncomfortable, you could only imagine what he could do to someone such as yourself. 

        When the slow rise of the sun began to cast color across your floors, you realized that-once more- a decent night’s sleep had evaded you. It was readily apparent how much your growing exhaustion had dulled your senses. Your mind was a mess of disconnected thoughts-your pulse pounding painfully in your head.   

        Every last muscle ached; and not just from lack of rest. Where your body had met with the ground as you fell, sickly yellows, greens and blues had begun to bloom beneath your skin. Growing bruises stretched across your arms, knees, and even swelled around your rib cage- making every movement painful. 

        You had to lift yourself gingerly from the bed, forcing yourself up and to the bathroom in the hopes that a good soak in a tub would do you a modicum of good. 

        The bathroom itself was enough to take some tension from your shoulders. It was a lovely space-seemingly carved from marble. The tub stood central to the room, taking up nearly as much space as your bed. You had found the night before that, if you folded your hands across your chest, you could float freely in the water without touching the sides.

        Against the far wall hung a gold framed mirror, flanked on either side by several dress forms- which you doubted you would use. They were accompanied by a slew of shelves that boasted soaps, combs, bottles and anything else one might have happened to forget. You left the water to warm as you collected what you needed. Pulling a robe from where it hung on the wall, you placed your things beside the now steaming bath.

        Despite its size, it warmed remarkably quickly, the water settling at a comfortable temperature without any need for you to interfere. From the soft buzz of magic that prickled against your skin, it was clear that the tub itself was enchanted-spelled to ensure the user's comfort. While it seemed, to you, like an extravagant use of magic, it was not a luxury you cared to avoid. 

        The size of the bath, however, meant that it would require no small effort to get in. Your muscles screaming painfully as you tried to lift your leg by its own power;  but with time and grit, you managed. 

        The moment the hot water washed across your skin every discomfort began to melt away. It drew the knots from your shoulders, and the nervous tension from your neck. The tingling numbness in your forearms began to subside; and the burning of your legs faded as everything began to relax. 

        With a contented sigh, the air left your lungs and your head slipped beneath the water’s surface. There was comfort in the way it flooded your ears-blocking out the sounds of the world beyond; and leaving you with only the muted sounds of your shifting form disturbing the water. 

        You felt the pain in your jaw begin to register after a full night of remaining tightly clenched. Fingers working gently at the soreness, you tried to focus elsewhere.

        The soft hum of magic against your skin was a welcome, and readily available distraction- nearly impossible to ignore now that most other stimuli had been washed away.

        It was a sensation you had reluctantly come to associate with Loki. 

        While every enchanted item in Asgard emitted such a current, his presence was something else entirely. 

        What you felt day to day was gentle; akin to white noise or distant conversation. The energy that radiated from the younger Prince, however, felt more like strong winds- warning of an approaching storm. 

        He radiated power. 

        In his presence magic felt more vibrant than it ever had before-which surprised you. Such an obvious aura seemed strange coming from someone whose infamy had been earned through cunning and secrecy. 

        All you could reason was that he did it by choice- a deliberate warning, or perhaps a trick to lure others into a sense of security. Still, you couldn’t say you it wasn’t appreciated. 

        When at last your lungs began to burn, you returned to the surface, the open air now feeling frigid by contrast. 

        You wondered what it must feel like, to wield that sort of power. Magic wove its way through most things in the realm, so you could only imagine having such control of it would feel like having a powerful key in the palm of your hand.

        You were also sure that it was this same power that made him so comfortable toying with you. 

        The game you found yourself increasingly tangled in, seemed to be dragging you into things you wished no part of. Sneaking around the Palace at odd hours and making enemies of high ranking nobility was not a habit of yours prior to now-but in Loki’s company it was quickly becoming a pattern. 

        Were it not for him, you doubted you would be as exhausted and bruised as you were now. You likely would never have wandered off into the gardens at such an unreasonable hour, let alone be caught off guard by Captain Baldur as he crept through the shadows, weapon drawn. 

        If, by some strange circumstance you had been struck by such an adventurous spirit, you realized that-were it not for Loki- you would never have known to hide yourself from him. A mistake you were sure would have left you with more than just bruises. 

        The very thought sank to the pit of your stomach like a stone. 

        Ultimately, you knew the Captain had not attacked you because of Loki. He had not seen you there in the halls with him, nor had he any notion that the two of you were associated-beyond casual conversations at meals. Instead, Baldur had mistaken you for someone else -something else- entirely.

        Something you were fairly sure didn’t exist. 

        Laufeyson.

        That’s what he had called you. 

        The only Laufey you were aware of was long dead- and as far as you knew, he had passed without an heir.

        Though you had never seen the former King of Jotunheim, you knew his kind well enough to recognize it would take a serious leap of imagination to mistake you for a Frost Giant . 

        For one, you were far too small. Your skin was not even close to blue-and thankfully, your eyes did not glow the same terrifying red. 

        The only reasonable conclusion you had been able to draw, was that the Jotun’s invasion of Asgard two years prior, had left the Captain with much more than physical scars.

        It seemed unavoidable that someone who was caught in the  path of such towering monsters would not readily forget it. Many Einherjar had lost their lives that night, and you could not fathom how it would feel to watch your friends, and those under your command torn apart like paper-all in defense of the crown. 

        It was almost enough to make you pity him. 

        If such scars existed, you had no doubt that it was for the best that you had hidden when you did. It had bought you only a few moments, but that was enough. There was no telling what he would have done without a few seconds to clear his mind.

        Pushing the thought aside, you set your mind to the day ahead. As you washed, you ran through your schedule. First breakfast, then the second interview with the crown Prince. After noon, you had promised to keep notes for your mother in her meetings- followed by only a short window of rest before you would be expected in the banquet hall once more. 

        It left you almost no time at all to search for the shard. 

        Not that searching would do you any good- not until you had more information to work from.

        It felt unlikely you would be able to pry any more hints from Loki, which made you wonder if he really wanted you to find it at all. But what did he stand to gain from keeping you unsuccessful? 

        What did he stand to gain from making you play in the first place?

        A part of you was almost sure he was motivated by nothing more complex than boredom. That didn’t give you much to go on; other than the fact that he was most likely to send you somewhere he found amusing- and the line he drew between “amusing” and “dangerous” was becoming increasingly suspect. 

        Reluctantly withdrawing from the tub, you were relieved that the heat had made movement far less painful than before. 

        Hopefully it would last. 

        Wrapping yourself in your robe, you returned to your room to parse through your wardrobe. Whatever you picked, it would need to cover your forearms and the bruises they bore. You were not eager to have to explain them to your parents, or any individuals who might question where they came from. Their curiosity would only bring more trouble. 

        The dress you had worn the night before would have been the perfect choice, but covered in dirt and mud as it was; it was out of the question. To your dismay, the second best option was a dull blue dress you had brought for the journey home- dusty and faded from years of use.

        It was not suitable for the palace, but you did your best to dress it up with jewels and a shawl. Even after carefully setting your hair, the end result was only marginally better than before-but it would have to do. 

        When you arrived in the banquet hall, it became clear just how early you had awoken. The space was blessedly quiet, and nearly empty. Only a few scattered tables were filled with palace staff-servants and soldiers alike filling themselves with what they could before their shifts. 

        Though you had almost exclusively been seated at the Royal table so far, it seemed inappropriate to do so without a representative of the Royal family present. Instead, you gladly found yourself tucked away at a small table  in a quiet corner

        It didn’t take long for a tired looking servant to bring you a hastily assembled plate; and you gave them an apologetic nod. It would clearly be a while before they truly expected the Royal family and their guests to arrive, but you were too hungry to return to your rooms and wait. 

        Be it because of excitement, or fear, you realized you had eaten little the day prior. It gave you hope that the little bit of nourishment would go a long way towards restoring your energy. It did not, but it did at least leave you feeling sated-and a little bit tired. 

        With any luck, you thought you might be able to sneak away-returning to your bed to steal a few precious moments of sleep before you could not avoid being dragged into the events of the day.

        You had been staring blankly across the hall-not realizing until you felt the weight of someone's gaze upon you. Their cool colored eyes and long dark hair jolted you awake for a moment-panic only subsiding when you realized they did not belong to Loki.

        Instead, they belonged to a servant girl who sat some ways across the hall. She seemed young, and you couldn’t imagine she was much older than 800. The long black hair that had caught your eye hung carelessly about her face- nearly covering one side as the woman behind her fought to comb it into place. She peered with wide, curious eyes-unfazed that you were now staring back. It made you wonder if she was truly staring at you at all.

        Your brow furrowed as you frowned-your discomfort only growing when you saw her quickly mirror your expression. You quickly turned away, hoping no one would mistake your confusion for disdain. Too many in the Palace had a seemingly negative opinion of you already, and you had no intention of adding the members of  staff to that list. 

        It was bad enough that you had even caught her attention. Loki’s watchful eye was trouble enough on its own- and now that Captain Baldur surely viewed you with suspicion, there would likely be few places you could go unobserved. 

        Abruptly pushing yourself back from the table, you hurried out into the halls as fast as you could. It was not until you found yourself safely around a corner and out of sight that you took a moment to breathe. 

        Pressing your back against the wall, you dug the heel of your hands against your eyelids- massaging them until you saw sparks. It did nothing to help your headache, but it at least calmed you enough to put your growing anxieties aside. 

        You felt uneasy.

        Never prone to paranoia, it was strange to feel like someone was lurking around every corner-waiting for you to make a mistake so they might catch you in the act. It felt irrational and foreign. 

        You needed sleep. 

        “Hiding from anyone in particular, good Lady?”

        At the sound of Loki’s voice you nearly leapt out of your skin; swearing under your breath as he laughed. You looked up at him through sunken eyes, envious of how well rested he seemed. 

        “I see you slept well.” He smirked, appraising you from head to foot. 

        “As well as I could.” You sighed, averting your gaze as you attempted to slow your racing heart. 

        “I could tell.” He laughed. “You look absolutely atrocious .” 

        You glowered at him.

        Silver tongued, indeed.

        It was far too early to match wits, and you were far too weary to do so effectively-so you chose to ignore him. 

        “My Prince,” You began- your use of his formal title having become more of an insult than an honor. “As much as I enjoy your honeyed words, regretfully I must take my leave.” 

        “Is that so?” He purred. “I assume you will be returning to your quarters?” 

        “I will.” 

        “Excellent, then I will escort you.” 

        Though you were not particularly eager to spend more time in his company; you were comforted by the fact that he held little more than a tenuous grasp on the formalities of escorting a lady. Or, at the very least, he was not interested.

        Loki was not the sort to offer you his arm, or even bother to keep pace beside you. He preferred to lead, and today you were content to follow. 

        The beginning of your walk was marked by the silence that had become characteristic between you two. Occasionally casting glances over his shoulder, you would offer him a polite smile in return, but nothing more.

        “So silent this morning,” he teased. “I would give up the crown just to know your thoughts.” 

        “How readily you offer something that is not yours.” You replied with a roll of your eyes. 

        His expression glimmered with delight, pleased at having finally discovered how to make you engage. He slowed his pace to keep time with your own, while you did your best to maintain some sort of distance between you.

        “Perhaps that was deliberate.” He mused. 

        “Then you will be content getting nothing, for nothing.” 

        “Come now, I so graciously offer you the chance to bend my ear and you reject it?” 

        “An honor, but I have no need.” 

        With a wicked grin he forced himself into your line of sight. “Might I remind you,” he murmured, leaning close, “that I can practically taste a lie.” 

        “Fascinating.” You replied idly, suppressing the way your heart began to flutter- instead meeting his mischief with a porcelain smile. 

        Loki was far from the first ill mannered being you had dealt with in your life. The noble circles were full of people like him; all searching for the opportunity to make weapons of their words-jostling for the upper hand in the most meaningless of conversations. 

        The worst of them chose to forego words entirely; preferring to make their points with their weapons and fists. It was a behavior spurred on by the inflated value Asagardians placed on physical prowess-but ultimately it was rarely more than empty braggadocio. 

        Both sorts were only fueled more when engaged, and so long ago you had learned that silence was a much stronger weapon to wield.  

        And Loki was easy to rile. 

        When you said nothing more, irritation began to wipe away any trace of mirth from his features. 

        It was a petty victory, but one you would savor; as you doubted he would allow it to happen again. When he behaved like this, it made it easier for you to understand why the servants and nobles took such care to avoid him. More than once you had taken note of how they seemed to ignore his presence all together. 

        At meals, servants never presented Loki with food or drink of any kind-unless prompted. His comfort was never asked after, and his family seemed to ignore any sleights leveled at him. In the halls, people quickly cleared a path as he approached, keeping their eyes downcast as if meeting his gaze would spell their doom.

        Your interactions with him had shown he could certainly be reactive- but the behavior of those around him seemed disproportionate. Though he could be bitter and irritating, there was not enough to justify this sort of response. There were the rumors, of course-stories of cruelty and betrayal suffered at his hand- but in your experience such rumors never carved quite this deep.

        Not unless they held a ring of truth. 

        “Loki?” You ventured, trying to draw your mind to other subjects. He seemed to relax when you spoke to him again. 

        “Yes?”

        “I wanted to ask you, are there any limitations on how I might look for the shards?” 

        He seemed to think it over, glancing behind to ensure no one followed too closely before he answered. 

        “I suppose that would depend on what methods you choose. Though I cannot imagine you would come up with anything I might object to.” 

        “I am almost frightened to ask what the God of Mischief might see as going too far.” You laughed. 

        “I think you would be quite surprised.” He said with a shake of his head. “Does this mean the gardens have proven too much for you?” 

        “They are certainly a problem.” You admitted. “There’s no way to search them all by hand, so I’m trying to find some other way to approach them.” 

        “Do you have anything in mind?” 

        “Yes.” You said, trying to remain non-descript.

        “ Liar. ”

        You couldn’t help but laugh. He was right of course-you had yet to come up with a plan- but you weren’t about to admit it. 

        “If anything else on the map requires nearly as much work,” you warned playfully, “ I think you will run me ragged before the week is out.” 

        “Frankly, I am shocked you’re not already; especially having been subjected to my brother’s ramblings for hours. ”

        “I actually find Midgard quite fascinating.” You replied defensively. 

        “Then you are, objectively , wrong.” 

        You shot him a half hearted glare-unable to find the will to be fully angry with him. A playful smirk wrinkled the corners of his eyes; surprisingly gentle-and almost charming.

        “When have you even found time to search?” Loki pressed. 

        “You would be astonished how much time you find when you cannot sleep.” 

        He chuckled. “Well that would explain why you look as if you’ve been running through the gardens all night.”

        “Well, not, all night.” You said bitterly. 

        Loki’s expression quickly changed. You realized his ability to discern lies likely meant he could determine when they were absent as well. 

        “Were you truly running?” He asked, almost amused. “I know you are quite eager to complete our game, but I must warn you it is very difficult to spot a small object while moving quickly- particularly in the dark.” 

        You groaned. “What revolutionary advice, my Prince.” 

        Loki continued to bore into you with his eyes even as you went silent; as if he hoped it might pry more from you. He grew more stern by the moment- and you knew it was only so long before you were forced to share the details of the night before. You would prefer to do so on your own terms.

        “I was...chased.” You said with a deep sigh. Loki looked taken aback.

        “Chased? By whom?” 

        “It hardly matters.” 

        “I would very much disagree.” He said, firmly. 

        Stepping  in front of you, he forced you to a quick stop- a habit of his you were less than fond of. He looked intently into your eyes with a seriousness you had not seen before-one tempered by a genuine concern.

        “If someone has caused you harm, I need to know. I cannot allow someone to be threatening guests-be it in the gardens or elsewhere. It is my responsibility as Prince to ensure they are dealt with.” 

        It seemed to you ridiculous that he might dare portray himself as chivalrous, or even responsible after how he had treated you

        “And what would you do if you were the one that had caused me harm?” 

        “I know for certain I was not the one who chased you about the gardens last night.” 

        “You know quite well that was not what I meant.”

        “And you are clearly trying to avoid giving me a name- what could you possibly stand to gain by protecting someone like that?” 

        You threw up your hands in frustration. “I am not protecting anyone! Have you stopped to consider that I simply do not wish to speak of it??” 

        Loki stiffened in a way that sent a chill down your spine.

        “You seem to be laboring under the illusion that I have given you a choice.”

        His hand shot out, the firm pressure of his grip wrapping around your arm as he attempted to pull you down a side pathway. Almost immediately a surge of pain washed over you as his fingers dug into the fresh bruises. A cry of pain escaped you before it could be stifled,  and the Prince released you instantaneously.

         For a moment, he stared at you-startled and perplexed- but when his expression darkened you felt your heart sink. 

        “You’re injured.” He growled, anger bleeding through every syllable. 

        “N...no…” you stammered. “You simply started me, that’s all.” 

        “Do not lie to me!” He snapped. “Show me your arm. Now.” 

        “Loki that is hardly necessary-” you pleaded.

        “If you do not show me willingly, I will have no choice but to drag you to the healers. You may fear I lack discretion, but Eir will not hesitate to take this straight to Odin.” 

        “This is ridiculous!” Panic rose in your chest as you clutched your arm. 

        “Woman, I will not ask AGAIN!” 

        You had yet to hear him shout like that, and you did not care to hear it again. His voice cut sharply through the morning air, and you knew that whatever you feared Loki's reaction might be- you feared Odin’s more. Revealing this to the healers would only bring more trouble down on you- trouble you did not need. 

        Though you looked at him pleadingly, Loki did not waver-and at last you reluctantly pulled back the sleeve of your gown, turning your arm over to show the discolored skin. 

        Loki did not speak. His expression went blank; his breathing deliberately slowed, and his voice became steady and soft.

        “You will give me the name of the person who did this.” 

        Despite the calm he had forced upon himself, you could hear the slight tremor in his tone, and feel the heat that simmered behind his eyes.

        “Loki,” You said, barely above a whisper. “No one did this to me.” You insisted.

        The muscles in his jaw flexed and he took a long, slow breath.

        “My Lady,” He warned “Half truths are still lies.” 

        “Loki, please, I-”

        “You will give me their name-one way or another.” He said, slowly reaching out until you could feel the weight of his hand on your shoulder. “If there is someone in this palace who is causing harm-to you or anyone else-I cannot allow them to remain.” 

        His sudden softness was almost frightening-but  he was right. 

        If the Captain was capable of harming innocents, then he should be removed from the palace immediately-but he had let you go, hadn’t he? When he realized his mistake, he was harsh, but he did not harm you. 

        “I promise you they did not know who I was. They called me by a different name-thinking I was an intruder. I’m sure they were only doing their job; and they let me go unharmed.” 

        “I would not call this unharmed!” He scoffed. “I swear to you, my Lady,  if I discover this is simply a misunderstanding, no harm will come to them. I must ask you to trust me.” 

        He was nearly pleading with you- something rare to see a god do. Your shoulders fell as you realized he had no intention of letting this go. No matter what you said, he would pursue it; and lying to him would only make things worse. You feared what “worse” could be. 

        Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you met his gaze as best you could. 

        “Last night,” you began,  “I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the gardens. While there, I heard someone approach. It frightened me, as I wasn’t sure how they might react, so I hid. When they came into sight, I realized it was the Captain we encountered in the halls last night. I don’t know why, but I ran until I tripped and hit the ground.” You raised your exposed arm for emphasis.

        You could feel the surge of his magic before you were even able to register the anger on his face.

        “ Baldur did this? He dared attack a guest?” 

        “Loki, he didn’t know it was me! He believed me to be an intruder!”

        “That excuses nothing!” He said, mystified at how lightly you seemed to be taking this. 

        “Of course not!” You snapped “But you cannot tell me that the word of a random guest will mean anything against the Captain of the Guard!”

        You spoke loud enough to startle yourself. 

        Until the words left your mouth, you had not realized they had been buried in your mind. You knew it in the garden, and you knew it now; no one would believe the word of some unknown noblewoman over Baldur. It made your face burn, old memories of unpleasant interactions rising to the surface. As much as you tried to shove them down, you could tell by the way Loki’s face saddened that you had not been successful. 

        He looked at you with pity- eyes darting back and forth as he seemed to scramble for the right words to say. 

        “Listen to me; they may not hear you, but they will hear me.” He said gently. “Or at the very least, they will listen to my brother.” 

        You dreaded the idea of the crown prince becoming involved. He was not the sort to keep his mouth shut, and you felt humiliated enough as it was. 

        “Did he do anything else?” Loki pressed. “Anything that might have caused you any harm at all?”

        “No.” You said definitively. 

        It was not technically a lie- though Baldur had tried, he had not succeeded. The young prince sighed, clearly aware you were still hiding something, but thankfully deciding not to pursue it further. 

        A part of you felt bad for it-he genuinely seemed as if he was only trying to help- but you couldn’t shake the fear of being responsible for harm coming to anyone else. 

        “Did you tell him anything about why you were there?” 

        You shook your head. “I told him I was unable to sleep and came to clear my head. That seemed to be enough.” 

        “Good.” He said, nodding distractedly. “ No one can know of this-of our game- do you understand?”

        Not in the least. 

        You didn’t understand it-not really. To you, he seemed overly paranoid about something so trivial; but you knew there was much you still did not understand. Since you saw no harm in keeping it to yourself, you nodded. 

        Though he seemed pleased, it was clear he had become lost in thought- his mind far off from the here and now. 

        “Loki…” You said softly, boldly reaching for his hand. Your cheeks burned when he withdrew it quickly.

        “Forgive me, my Lady- but would you be alright to return to your chambers alone?” A twinge of disappointment caught you off guard. 

        “Of course.” You said, doing your best to reassure him.

        Loki gave you a gentle smile, and  a polite nod before turning quickly down the hall and out of sight. 

        Day by day things were becoming more complicated; and somehow, you still had several more to go.

Chapter Text

        By the afternoon, everything had become tedious. Sitting alongside your father and listening to the Crown Prince spin tales of Midgard made the hours tick by slowly. Here and now you wanted nothing more than to let your attention wander to the gardens-to let yourself focus entirely on how to find the shard-and what it might reveal. 

        It irked you that Loki’s tricks had become so all consuming. Normally you would hang on every word Prince Thor had to share-allow yourself to become enraptured in the new and remarkable details about Midgardian life and culture. Instead, you could think of nothing else but this strange puzzle that awaited you. Even when aiding your mother-which required much more of your focus-you found yourself drifting away. 

        Still, you managed to remain present enough to ensure you could at least contribute to the issues at hand. It had been deemed necessary to present the people of Midgard with some sort of gift; a token of peace and bid for forgiveness. Though it would likely only be presented to the nation most wronged by Loki’s actions; there was still a delicate balance to strike. 

        The gift needed to be something valuable, but not so valuable it might be coveted by other nations. It needed to be something they did not already possess, but not something that could be weaponized against Asgard. Something that conveyed openness as well as strength. 

        Mortals were fickle, and easily unsettled, so it would take far more than a single meeting to decide the proper gift; and it was that very problem that swallowed up the last free hours you had to yourself. 

        There were worse places to find yourself than in the Royal Libraries-you supposed. 

        It was a much less opulent space than many of the ones you had seen of the palace thus far; though it was clear no expense had been spared in its creation.

        Thick, aged carpeting covered the floor, soaking up most sounds. Heavy curtains were drawn tight across windows you were sure had never been opened- lest the sun bleach the pages of the books kept therein. A veritable forest of shelves stretched high above, laden three rows deep with every tome or document imaginable. Every last one was bound in leather, carefully embossed with gold, and set in its proper place. As you drifted down row after row, you let your fingers brush gently against the smooth spines; hoping you might come across something of value.

        Though there was little to be had in terms of documentation, there were a few first person accounts of encounters with Midgardians that you hoped would be helpful. You lamented how shallow your knowledge of mortals really was. Despite your parents fascination with the realm, you had never shared their love for it. When you were small, you had been far more fascinated with Vanaheim. It was the homeland of the Allmother, and a land that seemed filled with magic. You and your friends played at being raised amongst witches, learning to wield unimaginable power; and eventually taking your place as the ruler of a realm all your own.

        Instead, you spent your youngest years running through the streets of Asgard, or buried in a book. You had even spurned your mothers attempts to teach you swordsmanship. Though the events of the last few days made you wish you hadn’t.

        You had been bitter-frustrated by those who looked down their nose at you and your family. You dreamt of being accepted by your fellow nobles-of earning a place of influence and respect. In your mind you had pictured being an indispensable member of the court, a diplomat able to quiet even the most riotous tempers.

        Over the years your desire for approval had waned, but your want to experience the realms as an ambassador had not. If anything, you took comfort in the fact that this task-finding the proper peace offering- would be the perfect test of your abilities. A chance to show you were worthy of admiration.

        This opportunity would not pass you by-Loki’s games be damned. 

        You wondered what your younger self would think of you now. Standing within the walls of the palace, staring at the opportunity to prove yourself-but trapped within the twisted machinations of a willful-and often belligerent-Prince. 

        The younger you would have found it incredibly romantic. 

        Tales of adventure and romance were your guilty pleasure. Those tales felt so different from your own life- so wild and captivating. They all told tales of young heroes and heroines, blessed with endless patience and inexorable kindness- and the wicked beasts who found them in their path. They were stories where virtue and love prevailed above cruelty and anger-where all that was needed to earn trust, affection, and a throne was time. 

        Reality was far less neat. 

        You were not made for those sorts of tales. Not a living soul would mark you as having endless patience or kindness-but you had certainly been cast into the path of a beast. A royal one, at that. 

        A part of you felt his more beastly reputation was nothing more than rumor-an unearned title borne from half truths. Loki was childish and mischievous-and though you had seen what he could do in anger- it was hard for you to truly believe he was a beast. 

        He made you desperately want to throw yourself headlong into your first true adventure; to play his childish games. You banished the whispers in the back of your mind that insisted you wished to see him-speak with him-and know more of him. Such thoughts were dangerous. You noted bitterly that, instead of being out there, you were tucked away in a darkened corner of the library-all on your own. 

        By now, you had plucked a few titles from the shelves doing your best to balance them in your arms. There was little more you could carry, and your arms had begun to ache so you set to finding yourself a place to sit. You had seen several tables in various corners of the library, and were sure one must be nearby. 

        Having not come across a single soul in the far section in which you found yourself, you were sure you wouldn’t be contending for space.

        It didn’t take long for the colorful brocade of the chairs to catch your eye. Through a gap in the shelves you could see one of the massive tables that were scattered about the library. Wide enough to fit seemingly at least a dozen individuals-with room to spare-it seemed nearly impossible that one might be completely taken.

        And yet, this one had-covered from end to end in books, scrolls, and papers-occupied completely by a single belligerent Prince. 

        It seemed as if no one had so much as suggested the idea of organization to Loki in all his life.

        Tomes sat open to random pages, some with other books and papers stacked atop them, crushing the spines. Papers covered in his scrawl were strewn in every direction and tucked away like bookmarks in some of the volumes he had cast aside. The Prince himself sat in the midst of it all-half slumped in his chair, head propped against his hand. It felt strange not seeing him in his usual, more formal attire-though you weren't sure you could consider what he wore now informal in any way. 

        Though he seemed to be pouring over whatever lay in front of him, it took only a moment to notice the way his eyes flickered open and closed. His head seemed to droop and snap upright in tandem with his lids, and though he did his best to shift and shake himself awake, the dark, sunken hollows below his eyes made it clear it was a battle he would not win. 

        Petty though it felt, you were delighted to see him so exhausted. Because of him, you had not had a good night's sleep since you arrived-so it only seemed right he suffered the same. You doubted he could remain awake for much longer. The light that flickered in the library was far too soft and warm-the sounds too low, and the atmosphere too calm.

        Showing a modicum of restraint, you considered what you should do.  It would be simple enough to find another table; to ignore him and not disturb a time of much needed rest. A part of you was keen on the idea, but another part of you insisted that-if you must remain awake, so must he.

        You took a tentative step from behind the shelves, regarding Loki carefully. He was remarkably still, considering most of your time with him had been spent nearly chasing him down hallways. He seemed calm-almost pleasant-and for a moment it seemed almost a shame to wake him. 

        That was, until you realized you were beginning to see the fabric of the chair in which he sat showing through his skin. 

        With each slow breath, he seemed to drift between transparent and opaque before your eyes.

        Of course. 

        You wondered if you could still wake a man who wasn’t actually there, or if he would simply vanish entirely. You took a few steps closer and gently lowered yourself into the chair across from him. When he did not stir, you cleared your throat. 

        “I did not expect to find you here.” You said.

        Though you had kept your voice low, Loki snapped awake as if he had been struck across the face. He immediately became solid once more, his eyes darting back and forth before settling on you. Inspecting you quizzically, he leaned forward in his chair. You leaned back in turn, unsettled by his sudden intensity. 

        “Stop that…” You muttered, trying to sound less indignant than you felt. 

        “Have I fallen asleep?” He asked carefully. 

        “You did.” 

        Loki looked you over once more.

        “But you are awake now, my Prince.” You clarified, trying very hard not to roll your eyes. 

        The corners of his lips twinged downward for a brief moment when you did not address him by name; but whatever stinging words he would have sent your way were quickly overcome by exhaustion and apathy. “What a shame.” Loki grumbled, sinking back into his chair. 

        You noted his eyes were markedly duller than usual, and his face had somehow become all the more pale-yet somehow the dark circles under his eyes had nearly faded. He pushed back a few errant strands of hair before letting his eyes fall closed again. 

        This wasn’t the Loki you were accustomed to. He fought so hard to remain in control of every situation-even if only in appearances- so to see him worn and even mildly disheveled made you uneasy. 

        When he did not hear you leave, he opened his eyes to glare in your direction. 

        “Is there something particular you need from me, my lady?” 

        Ah, there he was. 

        “No, not from you. I simply was looking for a place to do my work-and you happened to be here.” With exaggerated motion, you shoved aside the papers and books in front of you until you were left with a clear surface of your own. Lifting your own tomes from your lap, you set them neatly-and pointedly-on the table. Loki simply grumbled and shifted his focus to whatever was closest in front of him. 

        You took a considerable amount of time settling into your space. Shifting about in your chair, flipping pages noisily, tapping your pen against the surface of your notebook; anything you could think of to be a nuisance. To your delight, his irritation was palpable. Lack of sleep-and the knowledge he was not physically present-emboldened you. By the time you had begun to hum to yourself, his patience had run out. 

        No more than a note had left your lips when his hand slapped down hard against the surface of the table. Your head snapped up to see him glowering at you, jaw set tightly. 

        “My lady.” He said, forcing calm into his tone- with limited success. “Whatever it is you seek to punish me for, I beg you, save it for another time.” 

        “Loki, I didn’t come to punish you for anything.” 

        “Liar.” 

        “No, in fact I had rather hoped to avoid you all together-but when you began to drift in and out like a ghost, I became concerned for your welfare.” 

        He lifted his brow, the repeated accusation clear. 

        “There’s no need to be rude.” He huffed. “I am pale, not dead.” 

        You squeezed your fingers along the length of your forehead. “That is not what I meant. I could see the back of your chair through you.” 

        “Ah.” 

        Looking only mildly sheepish, the young prince sighed. For a second he was lost in thought-but quickly returned his eyes to yours. “Forgive me, I have been spread thin as of late. It’s begun taking a toll.”

        “I couldn’t imagine why.” You said dryly. “Here I was thinking it took so little effort on your part to invade dreams, or shove people down hallways. Oh, and avoid the Captain of the Guard, spill drinks on the Crown Prince, create games for-” 

        “Enough.” He snapped, scowl cutting deep lines across his forehead. “Keeping everyone in line is quite the task, yes. Made nearly untenable with my official work atop it all.” 

        Regardless of how you felt about his organizational skills, there did seem quite a substantial amount of work spread out before you. Reaching for some of the papers you had pushed aside, you scanned them for their contents. 

        Outdated maps of Midgard muddled with well aged trade manifests, personal accounts, and books on a number of languages you did not recognize. Several pages of paper were marred with his distinctive scrawl. Curiosity overcame you, and you pushed yourself from your chair to get a better look. You could feel Loki’s eyes watching you carefully, but he made no move to stop you. 

        One of his more legible pages of notes held plans on how to effectively protect the Bifrost-and vicariously the people of Asgard-from Mortal magics. Ideas for trade proposals, and questions seemingly intended for your mother, dotted the margins-a formal request to move something from Odin’s vaults pinned to the end of it all. 

        “ All of this is your work?”

        “This is most of it.” He said, unable to hide some of the pride in his voice. “There is still a substantial amount of work to be done in order to restore the Bifrost-and to re-establish normal communication with the other realms- but compared to my brother’s pet project ?” He laughed bitterly. “Everything else is merely busywork beside this nightmare. There is absolutely no way to be fully prepared for every eventuality. Midgard is just too vast.”

        “I assume you are not working alone.” You said with a frown.

        “Others would be of no help.” He replied curtly. “They would only be a hindrance. You must know more than most how much has changed since we have interacted with them properly. They’re stubborn and dull witted; their technology is ridiculously backwards and outdated, and before my brother, they had no idea other realms existed!” 

        Loki groaned, snapping the open book in front of him shut in defeat. “They had decided we were no more than a fiction-a myth long forgotten. After all this time, I cannot see them regarding us as anything other than gods, or a threat.” 

        The name on the cover of his book caught your eye. You remembered it well, since you had helped your father write it. The Prince was not wrong in some respects-Midgardians were fearful, aggressive, and quick to resort to violence. Though that was not too unlike many Asgardians, their short lifespans and the terror it inspired in them made them far more dangerous. 

        Your father had written the book in hopes of proposing ideas to prevent any violence when the realms were united again-how to soothe them, and not cause too great a disturbance. 

        Loki seemed to much prefer the idea of leaving them alone entirely-or else stamping them into the earth. 

        “Is that the conclusion you took from my father’s book?” You pried. 

        “Listen, I have incredible respect for both of your parent’s work-your mother has been vital in helping me sort through this... mess. It’s why I recommend my idiot brother seek their help in the first place-but you must understand I do not share his fixation with mortals.” 

        “You were the one to invite us?” It was news to you. 

        “My brother invited your parents. ” He corrected. “You were a surprise.” 

        “And what a horrid surprise I’ve been.” You teased despite yourself. 

        “You and your father both are insufferable optimists, but you’ve done a fantastic job of keeping Thor out of my hair.” 

        “My goodness, what an honor!” 

        Loki’s shoulders began to soften as he felt you relax as well. Your sarcasm functioned as intended, defusing his growing ire and making you more than just an inconvenience. 

        “If you need assistance, I am sure I could find some time to parse through some of this. It is why we’re here after all.” 

        He waved you off. “No. Though it is appreciated, I can promise you I have more than enough time on my hands to complete it all.” 

        “Ah yes.” You said, gesturing at the small remnants of the circles beneath his eyes. “I have heard that these are a sign of a man with too much time to spare.” 

        “That is where you’re wrong.” He said with a wolfish grin. “They are the sign of a god with an incredible amount of patience.” 

        You laughed, glad to hear him speaking more jovially. Briefly you were reminded that your intent had been to cause him trouble-but you shoved the thought aside. For now he was pleasant, and you would enjoy it while you could. 

        “Admittedly, I have spent a bit too much energy trying to be, quite literally, in two places at once.” 

        “I can only imagine how much it takes to maintain a second version of yourself like this.” Loki straighten just a bit at the praise. 

        “If I could do without it, I would-but it has been conveyed to me that some members of the palace are ‘uncomfortable’ with random objects moving and disappearing on their own. What you see is simply a courtesy to them.”

        “That seems a bit unreasonable.” 

        “It’s more than unreasonable.” He scoffed.

        “So why not come here in person? You could avoid the issue altogether.” 

        “Unfortunately, that is not my choice to make. Circumstances make it difficult for me to move freely about the palace, so I…” 

        You watched something flicker and fade behind his eyes- too quick to discern.

        “I take it that was the case on the day I arrived?” 

        Loki nodded. “Does that bother you?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious. 

        “Not as such.” You said, your brow knit together in thought. “I suppose I am just unclear about how it works. I’ve seen you interact with physical things.” 

        The Prince looked at you as if you had told him you weren’t sure how shoes worked.

        “Were you never taught magic?” 

        “No…” You admitted. “It’s never been something I’ve needed to know.” 

        “No one needs to know how to do a great number of things-but we learn, not out of necessity, but because it improves our lives.” He spoke as if it were blindingly obvious.

        “You’ll have to forgive my ignorance then.” You shrugged. 

        He scrutinized you intently for a moment, leaning forward in his seat. Shifting uncomfortably you avoided his gaze.

        “Would you like to know how it works?” He offered. 

        You tried not to look too surprised. “If it’s not too much of an intrusion.” 

        Loki simply smiled. You watched his eyes regain some of their spark as he began to speak. 

        “It’s a bit difficult to explain quickly-but this duplicate is a combination of several very specific magics. When done properly, they allow me to be able to lift or transport an item with ease. I can do this because, when I can pinpoint where my duplicate exists within space, I can calculate the relative location of all things around it. From there, it is a simple matter of using something akin to telekinetic magic to shift the object in question in tandem with the duplicate. It’s very similar to how we interact with physical items in person, but with an extra step. You’ll find it’s quite intuitive when you’ve grown accustomed to it.” 

        You did not fully process his explanation, but the enthusiasm with which he gave it felt like more than enough. 

        “And when it comes to people?”

        “Physical touch between a living being and a duplicate is far more complicated.” He frowned. You watched as he rolled back one of his sleeves, reaching out to you across the table. “Here,” he said gently. “If you touch my hand, you'll see.” 

        You watched him with great uncertainty, searching his face for any sign this was some trick. Loki instead let his hand rest, palm up, against the table, waiting patiently and quietly for you. 

        Tentatively, you reached for his hand, letting your fingers brush against his before sliding them gingerly across his palm. The familiar buzz of magic pressed against your skin, but that was about all. There was something solid where you could observe his hand to be, but it felt like nothing at all. You froze slightly as his fingers curled gently around your hand. No heat, nor cold, nor roughness, or softness was there to feel-just solidity and magic. You ignored the way he smiled when you let your other hand move across the fingers that now held you still-struggling to accept that what you felt was truly a real, functioning hand. 

        It returned to you how he had felt-or hadn’t felt- when his hand had clasped over your mouth in the hallway. It made more sense now, but the memory itself made your cheeks burn.

        “Touch tells us much more about what we hold than what it is, or is not.” His voice was soft, his eyes trained on your hand in his. You could feel your pulse quicken, perhaps out of fear. “If an inanimate object were to come into contact with anything-it would neither know, or care, if what it contacted was alive. However, when a living being like you or I makes contact with another person, or an object; we bring certain expectations. We care if something feels alive to the touch.” 

        The way Loki had gripped your shoulder in your dream was nothing like this. You felt the pressure of his thumb as it brushed back and forth across your wrist. Could he feel how fast your heart was beating? His eyes seemed miles away. 

        “The texture of skin, its warmth, or the rhythm of a pulse-they all require quite a bit of focus to replicate. It becomes an incredibly complex thing to maintain when also controlling a duplicate.” 

        His love of magic was palpable. It was a passion, which you could see from the way his eyes shone, and energy returned to his being simply upon explaining it. You no longer watched your hands, instead unable to look at anything else but him. 

        You liked this Loki-better than any other you had seen before.

        “It's not impossible, mind you,” Loki continued. “Just significantly more difficult. Often, it requires much more energy than I can spare in a day.” He said as you felt the physical presence of his hand slowly fade. A part of you ached when it disappeared entirely; your hand falling through his to rest on the table. 

        You caught his gaze and held it. His expression felt calm-honest and kind- for the first time. You felt yourself reflect it back, and watched as your sudden softness caused his eyes to shift uncomfortably. After a moment or two, he settled with a sigh, and returned your gaze without question or expectation-the silence between you growing until it became a sound all it’s own. 

        “Loki?” You asked, your own voice feeling too loud despite the whisper. The corners of his eyes softened when you spoke his name. 

        “Yes, my lady?” He replied with a light smile. 

        “If there is anything I can do to help lighten your workload, can you promise me you will come to me and ask?” 

        “How frightfully dramatic.” He teased.

        “I am serious!” 

        “I know you are.” He said gently. “But I promise you, I neither need nor want for anything.”

        You frowned, realizing at last with a bit of shock that you were offering to spend more time with the God of Mischief.

        “At least promise me you wont subject yourself to any undue suffering.” 

        “Ah, but-” he purred “you cannot deny I endure it quite beautifully.” 

        It took a bit of effort to stifle a smile. It was an unfair trick to be quite so charming in a moment like this. 

        “Beautiful or not, I do not care to see anyone suffering-even you.” 

        What in the nine just came out of your mouth? 

        “I am fine.” he insisted. 

        “You’re sure?” 

        Loki chuckled. “Absolutely positive.” 

        Though his tone sounded sure, you could see in his eyes the beginnings of a wall, forming brick by brick between you.  

Chapter Text

If Loki had noticed your uncertainty he didn’t show it. The dinner the night before had been as calm as the morning meal, and when all parties seemed sated he and his brother dismissed themselves politely and vanished into the maze of the palace. You had noticed the Allmother watching you more closely throughout the morning which was unsettling at the least. When at last your parents rose to leave the table, the Allmother rose alongside you. 

You trailed dutifully behind them, grateful it was an excuse to escape her attention. You had become quite recently aware that having royal eyes trained on you provided as many drawbacks as benefits. If not more. 

To your surprise (and your mothers delight) the Allmother escorted you all the way back to your quarters, indulging your parents' curiosities all the while. It was not hard to see in her the same guile that Loki so often displayed. It was charming, you thought. You pictured the prince, small and bright, hanging on the Allmother’s every word. Learning her magic, her tricks, and slowly gaining her silver tongue. You smiled to yourself. 

Unfortunately you were pulled from your thoughts as you reached your quarters. 

You had expected to offer no more than a polite thank you, a curtsy and to slip into your rooms so you might plan the days explorations. The Allmother had other plans. 

“My dear, might I  keep you for a moment?” She asked, her voice soft and smooth. It both stirred and settled your nerves at once. What a strange feeling.

“Yes my Queen.” You said, dipping your head low. Her hand lifted your chin lightly as she smiled. Her fingers were as long and lithe as Loki’s. Were it not for the radiating warmth of her skin you may not have been able to tell the difference between her touch in the waking world, and his touch in your dream. A knot formed in your chest just thinking about it. 

Naturally, the Allmother could see your distress plain as day- and after shooing your parents back into their rooms, she placed her hands gently on your shoulders. “Child, I am not here to reprimand you, please do not be so afraid.” 

“Forgive me Allmother,” you said with a smile. “But you are quite the intimidating presence.” 

Her laugh was like chimes echoing through her chest- bright as sunlight itself. It was astounding how quickly she could make you feel at ease. It was a trait that seemed to have only been passed to Thor, and not Loki. 

“Then you’re a smart girl.” She purred. “Come, I wish to speak with you.” 

She turned quickly on her heels, casting a lingering glance over her shoulder to ensure you followed. You trailed quickly behind, put off balance by how quick she moved. She’s more than just a sorceress you know,  you reminded yourself. While the tales of the Allfather’s conquests often took the center stage, Frigga’s own skills were not to be ignored. 

“Is something the matter, Allmother?” 

“That would be what I intended to ask you, child.” She said sternly. “My sons are… still quite childish in many ways. They’re not always careful with what they do or say, and it can cause more harm than they intend.” You noticed her fingers knit together in front of her as she massaged her fingers one knuckle at a time. 

“Thor has managed to find his way over time, but Loki has… struggled.” Her phrasing was vague enough to cover a multitude of sins. “I say this only because I have seen that you’ve drawn his attention since you’ve arrived.” 

Your heart quickened in your chest. You weren't sure what those attentions meant, but you hadn’t thought them serious enough to warrant the Allmother’s interference. She gave you a moment to think as you sorted your words. 

“Is there anything I should be wary of, Allmother?” It was hard to hide the tremor in your voice. She placed a hand gently between your shoulder blades. 

“One should always be wary of a great many things, child. My son is no exception.” 

“I can assure you he has not caused me any harm.” You tried to be reassuring, but a half truth did not satisfy her. 

“You know, when Loki was young, he spent a great deal of time tormenting his brother. Some of his actions were ultimately harmless, but others have left Thor with... a great many scars.” Despite her airy tone, a chill ran down your spine.  

“He has never quite understood the consequences his actions have on others. I cannot tell if it’s because he simply does not care to learn, or if he truly does not have empathy for others.” Her eyes were deeply troubled. “I have never quite believe it to be the latter, but since the shattering of the bifrost he has been… different.” 

“My Queen?” 

Frigga sighed deeply. “I am sure you have heard rumors of Loki’s actions on Midgard.”

“I have…” You said tentatively. 

“As much as I wish it wasn’t so, much of it is true.” 

For a moment you didn’t know how to respond. There were so many rumors, there was no way all of them could be true. Even more upsetting, you still couldn’t reconcile the loki you had encountered with those whispers. He was deeply irritating, yes but… the stories of death on a massive scale… Frigga could clearly see your distress, and you felt her hand move small circles between your shoulders. It was something your own mother had often done when you cried. 

“My son is not evil, dear child. At least I do not believe so. But I also have to consider that Loki is not the only one in our family who has made a great many mistakes.” 

A great many thoughts had begun to race through your head, and you had barely noticed the scenery changing around you. Frigga had led you down many halls, and you now traversed a balcony that stretched the length of the eastern wing. You watched as the palace gardens began to unfurl below you- vibrant with flowers and green in the summer air. You had heard how these were the Allmother’s pride and joy. Her refuge. It felt strange that she would bring you here, though you could not pinpoint why. 

“Forgive me, Allmother, but why are you telling me this?” 

Frigga stopped and took your hands in her own. “For a great many years I have made excuses for Odin and the lives he took through conquest. I have overlooked the lives Thor needlessly took in Jotenheim, and the war he began. The war Loki continued.” You wondered if she could feel the hammering of your heart through your hands. 

“I have decided I will not let such things be the legacy my children leave behind. Thor’s time on Midgard has pointed him down the right path, but Loki has yet to find his.” She released your hands and turned to look out over the gardens. “My reluctance to quash selfish behaviors in Thor nearly cost me both my sons, and my husband.” She said softly. It was jarring to see the guilt etched on her face. The Allmother had always seemed so strong to you, a woman unshakable in her confidence. No one can be strong every moment of their life. 

“ I share this with you not to burden you, but in the hope that you will feel comfortable confiding in me if my son causes you any distress.” 

“I understand, my Queen.” You said gently. She smiled at you gratefully before returning her attention to the garden beyond. 

“I apologize for placing such a burden on you when you are here no more than a few days, but it is important to me.”  

“It does not bother me, Allmother.” You stood at her side, following her gaze across the gardens. “He is fortunate to have a mother who cares so deeply.” 

“You are kind.” The queen said firmly. “Take care that kindness does not blind you to others' cruelties.” 

You were taken aback for a moment. Her sudden candor had caught you off guard. You knew she was right- Loki had already caused you a good bit of distress, and yet you were still reluctant to share with her what he had done. You supposed none of it seemed particularly serious to you. All childish games and harmless mischief. Barely worth sharing with a friend let alone the Queen of Asgard. 

“I promise you, Allmother, he has not caused me any harm. Subjected me to small mischiefs, certainly, but no harm.” You laughed. 

There was silence between you for a moment. The winds that moved between branches becoming all that was left to fill the air. 

You had a thousand questions for her- about Thor, about the Allfather, about Loki- but your heart told you now was not the time. 

“Thank you.” You said, finally. “For sharing with me, and for the kindness you’ve offered. I am aware it is much easier to simply keep such things quiet and let them pass unnoticed.” 

“As much as I appreciate the flattery.” She said with a sly grin, “I’m not sure you know how hard it is to truly keep a secret within the palace walls. Every pillar has ears.” She teased. 

Seemingly content that you would keep her informed of any wrongdoings she excused herself, leaving you alone to overlook the gardens.

That night was, without a doubt, your favorite feast thus far. 

You had managed to negotiate enough coin from your mother to get a new gown from the market with as much red as you could possibly find. You adorned yourself with as much silver as you had on hand, even tucking your hair back with silver pins as opposed to your usual which blended with your hair. If anything, Loki would know he was not the one in control. 

Once in the hall, it took only a few carefully placed words to convince the Allfather that the night would best be spent with all members of the family present at one table. Thor seemed bothered by the idea so long as he managed to sit far enough away from your father, but Loki watched you as if you threatened to grow a second head at any moment. It was difficult for you to contain your excitement. It glittered behind your eyes as you watched the younger prince fidget, uncertain of your plans. He had long since given up on trying to get answers from you through the journal, and instead he did his best to hold your eyes unflinchingly.

 His gaze held a range of expressions over the course of the meal. Suspicion, contempt, regret- you could have sworn for a moment you even saw a flicker of respect. Eventually he settled on seemingly trying to pry your thoughts from your head with his eyes. 

You were content to wait patiently, though. It would be worth your time. 

The minutes faded quickly, and once the table seemed sufficiently full of both food and wine, you waited for the inevitable lull in the conversation. When at last it came, you lept on it. 

“Allmother,” you said sweetly. “I wanted to thank you again for showing me the gardens this morning. They are quite lovely.”

“It was my pleasure my dear. Did you have a chance to explore on your own?” Frigga’s eyes had spent the night studying you and Loki, and no doubt she knew you were up to something. Fortunately she seemed curious enough to play along. 

“I did, though they’re so extensive I fear I missed a great deal.”

“Undoubtedly so.” Odin remarked with a soft smile. “I have often had to send whole search parties just to find my own wife amongst the flowers.” He was deeply red faced. Frigga rolled her eyes. 

“Perhaps you have some suggestions for me, your majesty? I hope to return tomorrow.” 

“Hmm. Have you any suggestions for her, my wife?” 

“Certainly” she nodded. Still assessing you curiously. You gave her a smile before turning your attention to Thor. 

“And you, my prince? I would imagine you spent many a moment there when you were young. It seems a child's paradise.” 

“That it is.” Thor said with a booming laugh. “Loki and I spent hours there when we were small.” 

“I would be curious to know what sort of games you played if such questions aren’t too forward.” 

“I doubt any of it would be of interest to you, good lady.” Loki said through clenched teeth. You bit back a smirk. 

“Were it not of interest, my prince, I wouldn’t have asked.” 

Thor laughed so loudly Loki winced. “Come now, brother. It’s a harmless question, no need for you to be so uptight.” 

Loki let out a deep and irritated sigh. “No, I suppose not.” 

“See?” Thor beamed before taking another swig of his ale. He seemed to use the gesture to collect his thoughts. It seemed to you that would eventually cause more problems than it solved, but so long as it got you your answers it was none of your concern. 

“We would spar and chase one another throughout. Loki often practiced his magic there, there was that one incident with the snake…” The younger prince rolled his eyes as his brother rattled things off. “We even found a few places to hide from even you, mother.” Thor laughed. 

There we are. 

“Where in the nine could you possibly go in your mothers own gardens that she didn’t even know?” You laughed. 

“Come now brother, there's no need to regale her with that .” Loki hissed. Thor seemed to lost in his own head to hear him. 

“Near the back by the wall there was the tiniest space we could squeeze through, just along one of the creeks. The brush formed this little... canopy of sorts, where you couldn’t be seen.” 

Loki looked as if he were trying to set his brother’s hair ablaze with resentment alone. 

“ So that's where you would go!” The Allmother laughed. 

“In truth I’m shocked you never found us with your magics, mother.” Thor said. 

“I certainly tried, but it would seem I taught your brother to warding too well and far too early.” Her voice was meant to chasten, but she couldn’t help the pride that rested just beneath. You laughed, leaning back to let the conversation go in whatever direction it pleased. You had gotten what you needed, and no glare  Loki cast your way would dampen your spirits. 

Chapter Text

A familiar feeling settled into your mind as you gave way to sleep. The gardens drifted into being around you, this time lit by soft moonlight. The air was crisp and cold, the soft wind pulling your hair to tickle you face. The limbs of the tall twisted tree beside you shimmered beneath the stars, the rustle of leaves filling the emptiness. You pressed your hand into the trunk, its bark rough beneath your hand .
It was all too tangible to be a normal dream. 
“You cheated.” 
Loki’s voice came in a low growl. 
“I did no such thing.” His voice made your blood run cold, and you fought to keep your voice steady, refusing to turn around to face him. “I specifically asked you if there were any rules, and you said there were none.”
“So you decided to use my mother and brother  to give you your answers?” You felt his hand on your shoulder, long fingers digging into your skin as he turned you to face him. “You have no idea what you could have done! What kind of jeopardy you put me in.” 
Anger had warped his face in a way you had yet to see. His icy fingers pressed painfully into the muscles of your shoulder, and you shrank back trying fruitlessly to escape their grip. 
“How could that possibly put you in danger?” You snapped, grabbing his wrist to drag his hand from your skin. 
“As you no doubt have noticed, Odin keeps me on a very short leash these days.” His voice dripped with bitterness and rage. “And the list of things he would see as a slight from me expands every day I’m locked in this forsaken…” His nostrils flared and you could almost hear the teeth grind in his mouth. He stepped back, his darkened eyes seeming to search yours for where to begin. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off. 
“You will not involve them again, do you understand?” 
You didn’t. 
What you did understand now was where every last dark tale of the younger prince had come from. The anger and aggression you had hoped were nothing more than stories were now far too clear. Your shoulder ached in ways it shouldn’t in a dream. In ways that would have taken deliberate, concerted effort to achieve. How dare he?
He had promised he would not invade your mind again and yet here he was. All it had taken was the smallest of slights and his anger had overtaken his promise. He had chosen to be cruel. 

“What is so wrong about your game you have me playing that it would anger the Allfather?” You asked incredulously. “You cannot expect me to believe that hiding a few stones about the palace would cause him to lock you away forever.” 
Loki scoffed. “You have no idea what he would do. You, girl, do not know him. You were not raised under his thumb as I was, you were not lied to and cast aside as I was.” Every word was sharp, each breath stirred the winds around you and began to make the limbs of the tree bend. “You have no say in what is, or is not reasonable for me to command of you. It is by my grace alone that you are even here!” 
“Your grace? Your brother, the future King of Asgard, summoned my family here. Not you.” You said through tight lips. 
The winds abruptly stopped. The anger behind his eyes continued to brew but a curt smile cut its way across his face. 
“You had best consider your next words very carefully.” He warned, his voice firm and low. The sudden stillness frightened you much more than his outburst. “My brother is not here to protect you.” 
 What? 
 You began to reconsider Loki’s every action since you had stepped foot on palace grounds. Frigga’s words echoed in your ear. 
Take care that kindness does not blind you to others' cruelties. 
It all seemed to shift so quickly, like any trace of stability you had was torn out from under you in a matter of days. And now you had no escape, not even in your own mind from the shifting mood of the prince. An anger of your own boiled in your chest. 

“ You promised you would not invade my mind again.” 
“What?”
Your voice came smooth and slow. “You promised you would not invade my mind again- and yet here you are.” Your heart hammered in your chest. He may hurt you in the dream, but when you wake you will be fine. 
You will be fine. 
“Do you really think this is the time to bring up broken promises?” he scoffed. 
“You chose to address this this way. Not me. You had other options.” 
“You would have preferred we do this in person?” He mocked. You did your best to hold your ground, but your knees threatened to give way. You braced yourself against the tree, trying to draw from it at least moderate support. 
“I have made no promises to you, Loki. One needs to make a promise to break it.” You warned. He seemed to flinch when you spoke his name. 
“You broke a promise so that you could threaten me for actions I could not reasonably predict would have any sort of effect on you.” As you gained your stability, the tears began to well up behind your eyes- the fear catching up with you at last. “To expect me to know what might cause you harm if you don't tell me is…” 
You could scream. As it was, the anger in your words cut at your throat till it ached. Were you already screaming? 

The air was still for what seemed an eternity. Loki stared at you, his jaw tight. You watched a thousand thoughts shift behind his eyes, all of them so quick his expression remained unreadable. You wondered how big of a mistake you had made. He had yet to even place a hand on your shoulder in the real world, and yet in dreams he seemed to have no problem causing you pain. A sort of betrayal simmered under your skin- but why? You had known him no more than a few days. He was a prince with the reputation of a tyrant. Had it only taken a few harmless quips to make you forget that? Were they really all that harmless to begin with? Frigga would want to know of this, you knew that. Still, you were hesitant to share. Why?
“Just try and think.” Loki snapped. 
He took a step towards you and you flinched, pulling your hands close to you. Loki froze. Something crossed his eyes you didn’t expect. Hurt? Regret? 
It means nothing.
As his eyes searched you he took a step back. “I can accept that you were unaware. Perhaps I should have been more strict with the rules, or been clearer with you. However, the fact still remains that it has put me at risk. I will insist you not return to the gardens while you remain here.” 
You frowned. “So the game is over?” You couldn’t hide your frustration. Not a single word of apology. No acknowledgment of his broken promise. No acknowledgment that he hurt you. Did he think you would just forgive him?
“Is that what you want?” 
You weren’t sure you could answer that. The idea of the game was something you enjoyed. The puzzle of it, and the fact that it allowed you to explore the palace without being caught in your own head. 
“Are those my only options? Allow you to berate me or abandon the game altogether?” 
Loki furrowed his brow. “So you enjoy it.” He said with cautious disbelief. You clenched your fists.
“That is not the point.”
“No, I think it is.” he said firmly. He lifted his hands in surrender. “You are right… I will admit I promised not to enter your mind uninvited, and I have broken that promise.” He had begun to lower his hands slowly. Your eyes darted between his face and his hands. He was treating you like a startled doe. You weren’t sure you cared for it, but you did at least appreciate it. 
“I accept that you did not know the consequences your actions could have wrought, but you must accept I cannot share with you everything.” His gaze was stern, but not harsh- his blue eyes once again locking you in place. “You cannot expect me to afford you that level of trust.” 
A sharp laugh escaped your lips-loud enough to make him flinch.
“You don’t trust me?”  
“Of course not.” He seemed shocked you would even ask. “I do not expect you to trust me either.” 
“And yet you seem to have asked me to do nothing but trust you.” You snapped. His hands rose slightly again, as if that were all it would take to calm your nerves. Arrogant ass. 
“If you do not wish to continue, I will not force you. I will leave you alone when it is avoidable” He continued. 
“You’ve promised they before.” You said under your breath. 
“But, if you do wish to continue, I would be…” he seemed to consider his words for a moment. “It would be my pleasure to oblige you.” He corrected. 
Your brow furrowed, lips parting as you tried to find the words to say. His demeanor had changed so rapidly- the ache in your shoulder was a stark reminder of that. But now, the moment you even suggested leaving his game… 
God of Lies
You eyed him suspiciously as he held out his hand, asking you to give him yours. 
“I won’t bite you.” He said, with the slightest hint of a tease. Bold of him to assume now was a time for jokes. 
You tentatively offered him your hand. You didn’t really have much of a choice. 
His fingers were featherlight against your own as he slipped them across your palm. His eyes held yours, expecting one wrong move would cause you to bolt. Rightfully so. 
You felt the same prickle you were accustomed to on the back of your neck spread across your hand. You tensed, but it only lasted a moment before his fingers curled around your own, closing them over something small and warm he had placed there. You became painfully aware of how much larger his hands were then your own. Curled like this they engulfed yours entirely. You reclaimed your hand and this time met with no resistance. 
“Consider it a gesture of good will.” 
His voice was calm. Sincere. 
You didn’t like it. 
With one last suspicious glance you turned your attention to your fingers as they unfurled. There, resting lightly in your palm was a single blue stone, thrumming with unfamiliar energy. Something isn’t right…
You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come. A grin played at the corner of Loki’s lips. 
His fingers brushed gently against your skin as he reached to tuck your hair behind your ear. Against your will, your whole body went rigid. 
“Just think on it.” He purred. 
His hand quickly covered your eyes, and before you could even open your mouth to scream, you were cast abruptly from the world of dreams into the dawning day. 

Chapter Text

“Does that bother you?”

You thought you had avoided the question as best as you possibly could have, given the circumstances. Your leg bounced nervously as you sat at the small desk tucked in the corner of your room. You had been sitting in front of your notebook, pen in hand for hours now, just looking out through the curtains to the world beyond. 

Hours? In truth it could have been seconds, or even days, and you wouldn’t have known. The conversation played on repeat in your mind - this new Loki you had never seen before. One without the energy to maintain the walls he had erected around him- so well crafted that you wouldn’t have known they were there had you not watched them fall now and again. 

While you would never say it aloud, the idea that he had never once been present ate at you. It gnawed at a part of you that you weren’t used to putting words to. There was a particular indignity to it, his absence. The amount of fear and unease you had felt in his presence had guided much of how you had interacted with him. How far you stood from him. Like he was an animal who would bite at any moment. And yet all this time he had no teeth at all. 

It also felt deeply unfair that he had still felt the full brunt of his anger. That, in the haven of her dreams he was tangible, and he had hurt her. Touches defined by anger, strength, and fear had been as crystal clear to you as the sunlight on the water. And yet, the one touch that had been calm, gentle- perhaps even warm- had been no more than an illusion. Like holding onto glass. 

At least glass still feels like…something.

You chewed at your thumb as you stared intently at nothing at all. There was a thought you didn’t even want to shape, but pushed at the edges of your mind all the same. A strange craving that wanted to reconcile the careful fingers that had held yours in the library, with the temperature and texture of the hands you had only felt in dreams. 

You were sure your curiosity was getting the best of you, but curiosity had never made your stomach so unsettled before. You rubbed your fingertips together idly. Curiosity never had made your face hot, or your stomach sick. It had never occupied so much of your time. 

Perhaps that was simply because there were no answers to be had. Any other simple curiosity could be put to rest between the pages of a book. It could be explained in detail by the curious minds of the past who had forged the path before her. But this was something without an objective answer. 

You’re looking in the wrong books.

You shook that thought from your head as quickly as you possibly could. This was not that. If it was, you were a far worse judge of character than you could have ever imagined. 

Were this normal circumstances you might have pressed the pen to the page and written out every word that crossed your mind. Let all of it escape and dry onto the page where your mind would categorize and sort every thought as it did with everything you transcribed. You could find the pattern, the truth, and seal it away neatly where it couldn’t bother you any longer- but Loki had found it far too easy to read the words you wrote on any page, in the notebook or otherwise. You had been convinced it was the notebook itself, but that had shown itself not to be the case. Swapping out the writing utensil had done no good either. If you could just figure out how you could write in private. It was beyond frustrating. 

Out of spite you had found yourself using more flattering verbiage when transcribing Thor’s exploits. If he was going to read through everything you wrote, you would at least make it as irritating for him as humanly possible. You bit back a smile. 

More than just the writing, there were the stones. His game. 

Asking why he had engaged you in such idiocy had generally been something you avoided. Did it matter? You were in a palace you needed to explore and he gave you a way to do so without getting lost. In addition, he would lead you to “unappreciated” places. While the first location hadn’t quite lived up to that promise, you held out hope the others would. 

You were bored, and in a new place. That was the bottom line. You knew that. You had accommodated him because it suited you. Still, you wondered why it had never occurred to you to say no. 

Because he’s a prince?

Likely. Still, the more you tried to shift your focus elsewhere, the more your mind returned to him. This was getting ridiculous. 

You gave up on organizing your notes and opened to the map. Two places were unlabeled and unexplored- and if your mind was not to let you focus on anything else, you might as well let it be productive. 

It crossed your mind that there may be things you need. If you could be sure about anything, you could be sure that his primary focus when sending you anywhere would be his own amusement. You pictured what it might have been like had you spent the whole week rustling through the gardens like a child digging for worms. You were sure he would be delighted. 

You ultimately decided your best approach would be to dress as simply as possible, and take only your notebook and the first blue stone. You had no weapon, let alone experience using one- and if he had chosen to send you to a place so dangerous you would need one, then he deserved your death on his hands. 

You sincerely hoped you wouldn't die. 

The halls of the palace were a truly impressive sight to behold. Stepping through the door of your family’s quarters you realized you hadn’t taken much time to admire the palace itself. You had spent too much time glued to your map for fear of getting lost- or trailing behind your father taking copious notes. It painted a very specific picture of you that you weren’t sure you were impressed with. 

Today was not for being noticed, however, so you tried your best not to gape upwards at the domed halls that seemed to reach hundreds of feet high. You were sure that, packed arm to arm, they could fit at least 40 people abreast in the main hallways-the side halls could fit maybe a paltry 5. Many of the main hallways were filled with pillars, forgoing walls where they could in order to let in daylight. It kept it all from feeling as ominous as it did in the dark. Much to your dismay you weren't to stay in them for long. 

The path Loki had drawn for you quickly deviated down a side hall, winding you back and forth so many times that, were you not looking at a map, you would have believed it was simply done to disorient you. Perhaps it was just a convenient perk. 

Fewer and fewer people were around you by the minute, until they vanished entirely. You barely registered it until you realized the only sound you heard was your own footsteps echoing against the walls. You hated it. It made you feel far more conspicuous than you already did- and after briefly considering what your parents might say about propriety, slipped off your shoes and tucked them under your arm. The cool stone felt wonderful . 

Corners of the palace like this were surly frigid at night, particularly in the colder months when the snow fell. But now in the heat of summer it was glorious. Perhaps this is where you could hide yourself if you needed a breath on your own. 

Under-appreciated spaces. 

If you had become so frightened over nothing more than a hallway, you would scream. You grit your teeth as his smug grin crossed your mind.

God of mischief indeed. 

The map showed only one turn left between you and your mystery location. “Alright my prince. Last chance to make it worth my while.” You muttered under your breath, before rounding the corner right into a dead end. 

If in the past you had ever wondered what bloodlust would feel like, you certainly knew now. 

Close your eyes. Take a breath. You told yourself. You wouldn’t scream. No, you would look silly. Especially after you went through all the trouble of taking off your shoes.  The memory of Loki’s laughter echoed in your head. 

Before you could give it another thought, you turned hard on your heels and stormed back off down the hallway. You would just go back to your room and back to your work. You wouldn’t even give him the satisfaction of seeing you angry. You would never even let him know you had been there. 

Your feet smacked loud against the stone. 

You’re stomping like a child. 

Who was there to care? Your feet wouldn’t be rattling the ceilings of someone below, and no one was there to see. You would be as indignant as you pleased. 

A familiar prickle sparked down the back of your neck. 

This time you didn’t hesitate for even a moment. You whirled around, eyes flashing with anger. “We’re you following me?” You hissed, still unwilling to raise the volume of your voice. 

“You were worried about being caught- I simply was making sure that didn’t happen. Fantastic idea with the shoes, by the way.” 

Loki stood only a few feet behind you, hands folded neatly behind his back as he forced down the corners of a smile. He was doing a disastrous job of it

He looked much as he had in the library-his hair perhaps a bit better kept- so you could only imagine he was spreading himself very thin to be here. 

Why did they make your heart flutter? 

Before you could stop yourself, your notebook flew from your hand, passing straight through Loki’s chest with a shimmer before clattering to the floor behind him. 

His smile broke loose. “See, that's quite a bit more insulting than the pencil.” He mused. “Since you actually need that.” 

You turned and stormed off without a word, but it only took a moment for you to catch up. 

“Oh come now,” he mocked, holding your pace,“have you no love of architecture?” You glared at him. “Perhaps you were hoping for something more clandestine? I can assure you that every rumor about what young princes do with young ladies in secluded hallways is completely untrue.” 

You flinched, but didn’t let it stop you. It was all just a game to him. A trick. A yarn to spin at a feast table on a slow night. 

“ Please just stop moving.” He begged, all pretense falling away in his tone. 

You obliged. “Are you done?” You snapped, catching his eyes. 

“Yes, I’m done.” He shook his head as he fought to maintain a straight face.

“ Clearly you’re not.” 

“I am trying,” he pleaded, the grin in his voice unmistakable. 

“It’s not funny.” You huffed, arms crossing in front of your chest. Your ears burned as he mirrored your posture. 

“It is at least a little funny.” 

“To who?” 

Loki opened his mouth, but quickly thought better of it. “Look.” He said, running his hand across his face to hide the twinge of agitation that had begun to fester. “Can you just… Humor me, and look one more time.” 

He had to think you were an idiot. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“Because,” he said, reaching his long fingers into the air and snatching your notebook from nowhere at all. “I promise it will be worth your while.” He opened to the map and held the notebook out for you to take. You did so reluctantly. 

Where the hallway had been unfinished before, there was now a clearly illustrated dead end, but just above it in his handwriting were the words “Left corner, two up” . You looked at him through narrowed eyes. 

“I promise.”

How could the God of Lies have a face that made you so eager to trust him? 

“ Fine.”  You grumbled, turning back towards the dead end of the hall. Loki vanished only to pop up once again in the corner, beaconing you to move faster. 

We can't all just pop up where we please. 

“If you’re lying, you have to teach me how to do that.” You demanded. He frowned, a bit taken aback. 

“First of all, I don’t have to do anything you ask of me. Second, It's absolutely not beginner's magic- you would split yourself in half.” You didn’t like how matter of factly he said that. You couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed. It didn’t escape his notice. His shoulders lowered. “If I absolutely must, I can show you something else. Fair?” 

“Fair.” You grinned. His face lit up abruptly.

“Excellent! Now,” he stood against the wall and nodded down to the floor. “Just like it said, bottom left, and two up.” You knelt beside him cautiously. You traced the stones with your fingers, counting as you had been directed. You looked up at him, and he gave you an affirming nod before stepping backwards through the wall. 

Showoff.

You took a deep breath and pushed hard. It gave way far more easily than you had anticipated, but not so easily that you lost your balance. You hoped that would disappoint him. You knelt and watched as a large portion of the wall swung away revealing a dark stairwell spiraling downwards into unknown. Loki stood a few steps down, the smallest flame flickering about his fingertips. 

“Ta-da!” He beamed. 

“A...servant's passage.” You confirmed, suspiciously. 

“Well, yes. But its not... “ He sighed. “Just…. Follow me?”  His eyes glimmered with promise. You bit your lip. 

This could either be something fantastic; or the biggest mistake of your life. 

Gathering your resolve, you stood and dusted off your skirts before stepping forward to follow the God of Lies into a dark abyss. 

Chapter Text

You followed Loki down the winding stair for what seemed like a lifetime. Watching the flickering light that radiated from his hand was an unsettling reminder that if he left for any reason, you would be plunged into complete blackness. 

“How deep are we to go?” 

“Quite a ways.” He admitted. “If you’re already worn from going down I have terrible news for you.” He cast a grin at you over his shoulder. 

“Not worn. Just…” Scared? “Curious. To see where we’re going.” 

It was clear he didn’t buy it. 

“As long as its more interesting than a spot under a bush, I will be satisfied.” You teased. 

“It’s quite a bit lovelier than my brother has the vocabulary for.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. Loki complained about Thor at length whenever given the chance, but you could never quite accept it as genuine. Each time you saw the two together, Loki seemed too vie for his brother’s attention in his own way. The two had a partnership, and as bitter as he seemed about being forced to work on his brother’s project, he had thrown himself into it fully. Though perhaps that born less of brotherly affection and insecurity. Thor cast a frightfully large shadow. Still, Loki seemed at his best in the shadows. 

You wondered if that was really his true nature, or one he adopted out of necessity. 

“Last step.” Loki warned. He had caught you with your mind miles away. You could see in his eyes he wanted nothing more than to ask, but refrained. It was a welcome relief. 

Where the steps had stopped, they butted into a wall much like the one above. This time, however, there was a clear pull hanging from the ceiling to open it. No need to hide a secret passage once you’re inside it I suppose.

“Ladies first.” 

The wall swung open silently to reveal the room beyond. While there was no need, Loki had stepped aside so that you could pass. “Go ahead” he whispered, his voice bright with excitement. You couldn’t help but feel your heart begin to race, too.

From the moment your foot touched the floor, you could feel the magic that coursed through the room. It was a vast, round space, lit by a single skylight of stained glass. It was larger than any you had seen before, composed of thousands of small panes of colored glass that shifted in the light. The figures depicted therein seemed alive and breathing. You couldn’t recognize what was depicted on them. Battles you had never heard of played out along its rings. Kings crowned, children born, worlds destroyed- all blended to one as the sun dispersed it into a wash of non-descript color across the cold, grey stone.

The walls themselves were covered in a single, continuous tapestry. This held things you more readily recognized. Feasts and festivals appeared alongside the tales of Bor. Odin’s rise to the throne and his marriage to Frigga featured alongside the war with Jotunheim, and the defeat of the frost giants. You ran your fingers gently along the cloth that seemed to hold so much, feeling the familiar prickle of magic that seemed to be woven through it. 

In the center of the room, encapsulated by a wide recess in the floor, was the largest loom you had ever seen. It clicked away all on its own, winding threads you couldn’t seem to see into more stories. More history. 

“What is this?” You asked breathlessly. 

“My mother’s workshop of sorts.” 

Loki stepped closer to the ring of colored light that was cast across the floor. 

“Do you know what sedir is?” He asked. 

You nodded. You knew well enough what sedir was. The Allmother’s talent for controlling the magic of fate was far from secret. She was a powerful ally to all of Asgard- and an even more powerful enemy to those who would threaten it. 

“Fate is complex.” He said, stepping into the light. “We all are presented with so many possibilities, and yet no matter what road we take, we will always find ourselves exactly where we are meant to be.” He gestured for you to join him. 

The moment you stepped into the light, a thousand strands, fine as spider silk seemed to appear along your skin. Each line sparkled with a different color, moving with you like a million marionette strings that weighed nothing at all. 

“The threads of fate are not easy to see with an untrained eye.” he continued. “But here, They are easily bound together, wound into thread, and set.” He gestured to the tapestry. “To ensure everything is as it must be.” Loki seemed to lose himself in his thoughts, eyes trailing upward to the ceiling. Your eyes followed and, now adjusted to the light, could see what lined the ceiling. 

An unfathomable number of bobbins hung in the air, each seeming to wind itself as full as possible with the shimmering gossamer it pulled from the air. Each and every thread fed into the loom, and it continued to work away, winding the intricate patterns of time into place. 

“How do you know what must be?” You asked. 

“That,” he sighed, “would be a question for the Allmother. I don’t make the decisions- but for a while, I helped them come to be.” 

You stared at him, confused. 

“For a long while, the Allmother would set me tasks. Ones meant to ensure the prosperity of Asgard and it’s people.” His voice grew stiff and distant. “She taught me to see the threads, and how to read them. In the end, a lie is no more than a denial of fate. An attempt to change or reject your path.” 

“And so you set people back on the right path?” 

“So to speak.” He didn’t meet your eyes, or offer anything further. The silence simply hung in the air. 

“Why can I not see your threads?” 

He grinned. “Well, because what you see here is not real. It’s a projection of me. A protection has no destiny.” He laughed. “I prefer not to look at my own anyway.” You watched him place his hands behind his back. “Some things are better left a mystery.” You wondered what he had seen to make him feel that way. The way he spoke made your chest ache, and he seemed to fidget uncomfortably under your gaze. 

“Here,” he offered, eager to break the silence. ‘This one thread is actually quite a fun one to look at.” He moved close and pointed to a tiny red strand that seemed to spring from the back of your wrist. 

“What is it?” 

“The only thread that will never feed directly into the tapestry while you are alive. The only threads where, if you’re lucky, you’ll have a genuine choice.” He said, seeming to marvel at it. “And you, my lady, appear to have three.” He smirked. You felt your cheeks grow hot. “Each one binds directly to someone you are destined for.” 

Your heart skipped. “I beg your pardon?” 

He seemed pleased to have thrown you so far off balance. “Your ‘true love’.” He said with a disproportionate amount of disgust. “Though that phrase often implies that there is one, and only one person out there for everyone- which is not the case.” 

“How many do people normally have?” 

“Oh goodness… I’ve seen people with hundreds and i’ve seen people with none. That’s part of the fun of it, I suppose. If you have a hundred threads, you have a hundred people from which to choose. If you have one, you will really only ever have the one.” 

“And those who only have one will always find the person they’re destined for?”

He hesitated. “...Most of the time. Though there are exceptions.” 

“What kind of exceptions?” 

“Well, if one can choose a partner, they can also choose not to have a partner. Some are so frightened by an eternal bond they cannot accept it, and choose to live independently instead. Others will find their threads intersect in ways that can create a union of more than two. Still yet, others will choose someone to whom they are not connected at all.” You swallowed. Though he wasn’t in the room, you felt your heart was loud enough that half of Asgard could hear.

“In the end, love is… the ultimate gamble.” 

“And how many do you have?” 

“Hm?” 

“How many of these threads do you have? Are there hundreds of lonely maiens you’ve kept waiting?” You teased, though the words stuck a bit in your throat. 

“Maidens, masters, warriors and farm hands all across the nine weep for the chance they’ve lost with this most beloved Prince of Asgard.” He said with a dramatic flourish. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“But as to your question, I don’t know. I suppose i've never cared to count them.” 

“So many?” 

“I’m a god of many forms.” He grinned. “I am hard to resist in any shape.” 

“Are you now?” You laughed. 

“Oh yes.” His eyes flickered with mischief. You should have kept your mouth shut. In a blink he was gone from sight,  but an unfamiliar voice hovered just behind your ear. “ And I can prove it.” 

The voice was feminine- smooth and low. As the sound worked its way through your mind you felt every hair on your body stand on end. You turned quickly to face the voice, coming eye to eye  with a woman you would not have recognized were it not for the glint in her eye. 

“Loki?” You had tried not to sound impressed, but failed. The familiar cadence of her laugh filled the air.

“Yes.” She laughed, “Why, were you expecting someone else?” Her words teased from behind the curve of her lips. You felt your face grow hot. Loki’s eyes just lit up further. 

“Oh? This is what it takes to get your attention, is it?” You bit hard on your lip, finding it almost impossible to hold her gaze. You understood quite easily how Loki could have many, many threads- seemingly irresistible regardless of form. 

What?  

You were shocked by the boldness of your own thoughts - the heat in your cheeks quickly spreading to your neck and ears. 

She was undeniably lovely. Just as lithe in this form as any other. Her long fingers pushed the black waves of her hair behind her ears, her shining eyes shifting with the colors from the glass. 

“Oh it is, isn’t it?” She grinned. “Well no wonder.” 

“It’s... “ You struggled to find your words. “Frankly, neither form disappoints. This one was just a… pleasant surprise.” 

She seemed more surprised than you were. For a moment Loki seemed stunned. Her mouth opened but closed with out words, and her brows furrowed cutting deep lines across her forehead before she met your gaze with narrowed eyes.

“What?” You said, moving back half a step.

“Do you mean that?” 

It was a much more blunt question than you had been expecting. In truth you hadn’t expected a question at all, just more cutting remarks- playful banter. But the genuine curiosity in her eyes made your heart stand still. 

“I… well yes but,”

“But?” 

“I didn’t mean to be so…” 

“Honest?” She teased. The heat in your face felt so overwhelming you covered it with your hands. Your hands were pulled back from your face gently, and Loki tried to force down a grin from far closer than your heart was equipped to handle. 

“It’s an absolute shame you look so good in red.” She whispered, a flash of hunger behind her eyes. “I’m truly regretting not coming in person.” 

“You are shameless.” You said, shocked. 

“Well you seem far more comfortable with me in this form.” Her voice softened. “You’ve not tried to pull away or throw a single thing at me this whole time.” 

Loki was losing the battle to keep the dumbstruck grin off her face. 

“I could change that if you like.” You snapped, but there was no bite in your words. 

“Then you wont get your notebook back this time.’ 

“I’ll make Thor find it for me.” You said defiantly. 

“Thor couldn’t find his way out of a cardboard box.” 

Your hand clapped over your mouth as you tried to stifle a laugh. Loki’s delight bubbled over, and as her laugh echoed against the walls, you had no choice but to give in. The tightness that had lingered in your chest for days at last seemed to lift. You sat down on the edge of the platform, letting yourself fall back to lay against the cool stone. The threads spun above you through the colored light, and the gentle rhythm of the loom sent a wave of calm through you. 

Loki made a pointed amount of noise as she lay down beside you. You appreciated her letting you know where she was instead of simply appearing like usual. You savored a deep breath before turning to look towards her. Her forehead was close enough to touch yours, her hair fanned out against the stone. She kept her eyes skyward, though you were sure she knew you were staring. The sharp features of Loki’s face stood out when you saw her like this. 

Have I ever seen Loki this still?” You couldn’t remember even once. 

She turned to look at you, so close your noses could have brushed- but there was nothing there to touch. Not really. It left you with a strange ache. 

“You know,” she said softly “I will admit to very few regrets in my life- but I very much regret not being here in person.” 

You turned away, pressing your hands into your eyes as if not looking into hers would make forming words any easier. “It… it would be nice.” you admitted. 

You could feel Loki’s eyes on you. 

“Have… I made you uncomfortable?” Loki asked. You turned back to see she had pulled away slightly. 

“No! No, it’s just.. A lot to process I suppose.”

“Do I stun you so much?” She teased. 

“Yes.” you said flatly. Satisfaction flickered in you as she began to turn red. “But truthfully I just… Loki, I’ve never seen you in person. We’ve never been in the same room so far as I’m aware.” 

“Is the version of me you see here and now really so different?” 

“Yes!” You felt the frustration rise in your voice. “Loki, you’ve been able to touch me maybe twice - both times in a dream, and both times you hurt me.” 

Something indiscernible flashed behind her eyes. Was it guilt? Fear? 

“You’ve never hurt me in that way when we’re awake, but…” You held her eyes. Your heart pounded, terrified of what she might do. You clench your fist hard enough to bury your nails into the skin of your hand. “How do I know which one is the real you? How do I know that the reason you haven’t grabbed me like that in the daylight isn’t just because it's not worth the magic? Or because someone might actually see you out here.” 

Loki’s jaw tightened a bit. “We’ve been here alone.” She pointed out. “For quite a while, too. Have I hurt you?” 

“No, but…”

“And in the library?” 

“No but Loki…” 

“How about the hallway the first night you were here?” You felt her temper rise with her voice- yours rising right along with it. 

“That’s not the point!” You shouted.

“Then what is your point?” She shot back. Her eyes that had been so soft but moments ago had turned hard and cold. 

“You can’t treat me like that and just expect me to forget it!” Your agitation boiled over. “You know why I’m more comfortable with you like this? Because I get to be around your stupid jokes and silver tounge, but I dont have to look at the face that hurt me.” 

The silence echoed off the walls. 

“Loki… That's not something that just goes away in a day. I have to know I can trust you.” 

“Right.” She said, bitterly. She sat up quickly, straightening her hair before standing and walking back towards the door.
Really? You're just going to walk away? 

She barely made it a few steps before she turned back around. Her eyes were hurt, angry- dark. “Don’t bother.” Loki said coldly. “No point in trusting the God of Lies.” You watched as her form shimmered back to what you had known before. His eyes burned back into yours. “It would seem I will only disappoint.” 

With the final word, he was gone.

Chapter Text

That night you didn’t sleep. You weren't sure if your mind was just too restless, or if you were afraid of who you might encounter if you did.  

Your notebook was thrown into the wardrobe and locked away before you could be tempted. To rest your mind you had drawn a bath, and as soon as the water was high enough, you pulled your head below the surface. Eyes pressed closed, you focused on what you could feel. You focused on the heat of the water, on your hair shifting across your shoulders, on the ringing in your ears. It was the closest thing you would get to silence. 

You needed silence.. 

You needed  the water to lift the weight that had settled into your chest for even a moment. Too many emotions were vying for control. Anger wanted retribution- for Loki to feel what he had made you feel. Hurt wanted him to know he couldn’t just act without consequences. Something else entirely tried to paint over the memory of his anger with soft eyes and repentant words. With a touch. 

You hated that part, now you knew what it really was. You couldn't keep your mind from wandering back to the room deep below the palace. The image of Loki beneath the mosaic of lights and twisting strands. The rhythmic sound of fate being locked into place. 

How could it be that the moment you could no longer see the man who had hurt you, your heart had relaxed completely? All hesitation had melted in an instant, and all that was left to see were the things you wanted to. Loki had become something tangible. A distinctive smile, a laugh, a flicker in his eyes that now seemed to erode your anger faster than you wanted it to. 

What's happened to you?

You had let down your guard with the wrong person, at the wrong time, in the wrong place.  And for what? Anger? Retribution? Games? 

In truth, you knew why. It had been for the moments in between. For the playful teasing, for the illusion of confidence he had allowed to fade away in your presence. It was because of the glimmer in his eyes and the sound of his laugh - for the dedication he put forward and the recognition he would never receive. 

You let yourself float back to the surface, but filling your lungs with air did nothing to stop your head from spinning. You wished you could cry, but the tears wouldn't come. You had avoided dinner on the pretense of sleep, and it had gone unquestioned. Your parents had left and returned and sleep evaded you entirely. You had stared at nothing at all for hours, wondering if Loki had appeared at dinner. Would both of you being absent raise an alarm? Would the Allmother be suspicious? 

There was no question that asking for her help was no longer an option. You had snuck around the castle into places you weren’t meant to be- and while part of you understood she likely already knew, you also couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You feared what that might do to Loki. 

You didn’t move until the tub had drained entirely. You let the cold seep into your tired frame and resisted the urge to shiver. 

Your room felt unsettlingly large to you now. Before, you had been so buried in your work and in his game that you hadn’t thought much of it. Now, left alone with your thoughts, every nook and cranny seemed to exist in vivid detail. The moonlight was muted by the curtains, but still cast soft shapes on the ground. It felt as if they would vanish if you touched them. You felt you would vanish if anyone were to touch you. If he were to… 

You pressed your eyes shut as tightly as you could. No. Don’t. It would be ridiculous to even consider- he made it abundantly clear he had never once been in the same room as you. If he truly felt a thing for you, wouldn’t he have at least attended a meal? Shown up in a hall? Just long enough to let you know he was there. That he was real and not just an illusion. 

You knew that was a lie. You would never be satisfied with so little. You barely had anything now and your whole being ached in his absence. You had locked yourself in your room because you were so afraid to look into his eyes after what had been said. You were afraid you would only learn that there was no going back. It was better not to know. 

In a few days time you could leave and not think of it again. You were under no obligation to return to the palace when your father did his diplomatic work, or to travel with your mother when she did her trade work. You could just lock yourself away until… 

Don't be so dramatic.  You thought bitterly.

Time would smooth things out. It would make your feelings fade until they couldn’t hurt you anymore. There were adventures to be had, places to go, things to record. Images of traveling alongside the royal family invaded your mind. The doors that would be opened, the moments you would be able to spend alongside him. What it might be like to watch him out among the people- projecting the boisterous attitude he so desperately clung to- and then to be with him in the quiet, alone. Where he would let those walls fall away. 

It was all childish dreamings. You felt foolish, but couldn’t help but allow yourself to indulge in it. It was all you really had left. It wouldn’t make things any easier, but at least it would dull the ache for now. 

You settled slowly into your bed, hoping that you could at least find some rest even if you couldn’t sleep. From there, you watched the moonlight on your floor shift from one end to the next, until it faded away-overcome by the slow break of dawn. The light was like permission. A confirmation that the monsters that lurked in the dark could no longer find you. Your eyelids weighed heavy, and all at once you were pulled under into a dreamless sleep. 

________________

A sharp knock at the door finally shook you awake. Your heart raced for a moment until you got your bearings. The sun was far higher than you expected, and it had made your room uncomfortably warm. 

“Yes?” You called out, sleep still heavy in your voice. 

“Can I come in?” Your mother’s voice called back

You felt yourself relax. You pulled your legs out from under the blankets, relieved to set your feet on the cool stone. You made your way to the door and opened it for her with a tired smile. She cast you a worried one in return. She closed the door gently behind her and placed the back of her hand on your forehead. 

“I’m not sick,” you laughed. 

“You’ve been asleep a whole day.” She said with a frown, “It worries me.” 

You pulled her hand from your head and wrapped your arms around her in a hug. Her arms pulled tight around you as she placed a kiss on your head. 

Your mother had always been a gruff woman, but she had always been your favorite to hug. She always smelled of incense and ink, and her arms could encapsulate you entirely. You could feel safe there. 

“I just wanted to be sure, sparrow.” She murmured, stroking your hair gently. “Are you feeling better rested?” 

“Much.” You lied.

“It’s well past midday, and you've not eaten since yesterday, have you?” 

“No.” You admitted, suddenly aware of the ache in your stomach. 

“I thought not.” She frowned. 

“The Allmother has graciously sent some food up for you, there's a young lady here to bring it in if you feel you’re decent.” 

You froze a bit at the mention of the Allmother. You wondered how much she knew. 

Likely everything.  

You nodded. “That’ll be fine, thank you mother.” 

She gave you a soft smile. “Your father and I have some work to do, but if you would like I would be happy to join you while you eat?” 

“Please don’t worry about it, mother. I’ll likely take my time.” 

She nodded. “Don’t hesitate to shout if you need us. We’ll just be in the other room.” 

“I promise if I'm choking I'll scream as loud as possible.” You teased. 

“That’s my girl.” Your mother grinned, placing a hand on your cheek. “Take your time, i'll go let her in.” 

You nodded and wandered back to your bed, letting yourself collapse into the mess of sheets, blankets and furs. You didn’t have servants at home, and you weren’t sure how to handle them. Your anxious mind thought it best you just ignore her as she entered your room- she likely didn’t want to deal with you, and you didn’t want to get in her way. You turned and curled up, facing away from the door. 

As the door clicked open and you heard footsteps enter your room and make their way to the table. There was the gentle clink of a tray and plates as she set it down. 

“Thank you.” You said, as you heard her make her way back towards the door.

But her footsteps stopped halfway. You felt a strange chill run down your spine. Why had she…

There was a familiar prickle on the back of your neck. 

“I’m not leaving until you eat something.” 

You sat up to see Loki standing against the far wall, arms crossed as she stared you down. Her hair had been braided back and tucked neatly up. She had mimicked the servants uniform perfectly, though it hung about her frame much more loosely than what she had worn the night before- but naturally, despite the usual creams and golds of the palace uniforms, she had managed to braid a single green ribbon into her hair, just in case you had forgotten who she was.

“What are you doing?” You hissed, out of bed before you even realized you were moving.

“What do you mean what am I doing?” She snapped, moving to meet you halfway across the divide. Even in this form you had to tilt your head up to look Loki in the eye. Though your hands shook with anger, you felt your face flush when you met the bright blue of her eyes. 

“If you’re going to be angry with me, fine.” She hissed, keeping her voice just low enough that you wouldn’t be overheard. “But starving yourself because seeing me disgusts  you is childish and pointless.” Her jaw clenched tight. 

“ What? ” 

She rolled her eyes “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“Clearly you don’t!” You said in disbelief. “I’m not avoiding the dining hall because of you.”

“Liar.” She said, flatly. 

“Loki, why are you here. ” Your heart raced in your chest, but you did your best to puff yourself up. To pretend she wasn’t under your skin. 

To pretend you didn’t just want to throw your arms around her in the chance that maybe she was actually there. 

She kept her jaw clamped tight and her eyes locked on yours. If she intended to seem threatening, she had succeeded. Her eyes were bitter and cold- it was the uncrossable line you had feared you would find. Your heart ached. 

“If you’re just here to yell at me for yesterday just… do it and go.” 

Exhaustion settled over you like you hadn’t slept at all. Your leg wanted to give way, you wanted to cry and sleep and let the week pass without you. 

“Yell at you? I…” There was a twinge of hurt in her voice that she quickly shoved down. “I came in person so I could tell you that I will not return to the hall while you’re here. When I leave here, you won't see me in the dining hall or near your quarters again.” She averted her gaze, looking past you instead. “I don’t need to be there, my meals are brought to me, but you? You will be there for dinner tonight, and breakfast tomorrow, and for every meal until you leave this palace do you understand?” 

You stood there with your mouth open trying to process her words. None of this made sense to you. 

“You could have just sent someone.” It was less of a question and more of a statement. 

“Gossip spreads too easily. I wouldn’t care to involve staff in personal matters if possible.” 

“So why not come as yourself?” 

“I am myself.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Ah yes, because a prince of Asgard bringing food up to a woman’s room with his own two hands wouldn’t cause any gossip at all.” She said sarcastically. 

“Somehow I doubt those are your hands.” You snapped, reaching for whatever was close at hand.

“Do not throw things at me.” She snapped. 

“Why? It’ll pass right through you.” You felt tears well in your eyes. Her words felt too sweet despite the bite with which she spoke them. You refused to believe it. Loki wouldn’t think of you like this. Not unless she wanted something. If she actually cared she would be here. You wanted to throw whatever you could- you wanted it to strike her, to prove she was there, even if it meant she struck you back. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t….” She shouted, her voice cutting off abruptly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before starting again, quieter. 

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt .” 

You shook your head, turning away. God of Lies. Just more lies. Just more games, and mischief, and bitterness.

“I’m sorry.” You bit back tears, but your voice betrayed you. “If I hurt you I am sorry, truly and honestly- but if that’s all you wanted... you can go.” The ache started to fade into a nothingness. The hurt and sadness had pulled every last bit of energy you had managed to regain- and you were left with nothing but hollow numbness. 

Loki stood in silence for a moment, watching your face intently. Her face became unreadable, but it no longer mattered to you. You could feel there was nothing left in your own eyes either. 

“As you wish, my lady.” Loki replied softly. She gave you a nod, and turned back towards the door. Her words stung. You didn’t want her to leave. You didn’t want to fight, you just wanted… 

What did you want? 

“Then what is your point?”

You flinched as her words echoed in your mind. You wanted an apology. You wanted to be heard, to be taken seriously. You wanted to see something genuine in her eyes, not just a wall. You wanted to feel safe around her, to feel like she would never hurt you. 

You wanted Loki to be here. To stay. 

“Stop!” Your voice broke. It sounded less like a command and more like a plea. You didn’t care. “Please just stop...” 

Loki froze. She turned around to look at you slowly, a bit of fear in her eyes. She straightened herself quickly and took a deep breath.

“What.”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead. Your mouth opened and closed uselessly. 

“Loki I…just dont…” You couldn’t force the words out. You pressed your hands into your face in frustration. “I don’t want you to.” 

Loki’s eyebrow rose slowly on her face. “Why?” 

You threw your hands up in frustration. “I don’t know… Truly I don't. But you must know I don't hate you.” 

Her brow knit tightly together. Voice came low- cautious and gentle. “Please, just tell me what you want.” She stepped towards you slowly. You felt the heat rise and your throat tighten as you tried desperately to remember how to piece words together. “I don’t know , Loki. I don’t know, I…” You scrunched your face tightly. Your eyes burned, but you forced the words out anyway. “Why aren’t you here? I know there's a reason but you’ve never explained and I… Do I scare you? Is that why you stay away?” The last words came out with a hollow laugh, but did nothing to mask the tears that now blocked  your view. You pushed them away quickly. 

Loki stood, mouth half open, her eyes darting back and forth as she tried to read everything she could from your face. She took a deep breath as if to speak, but clamped her mouth shut again, her shoulders rising to her ears. She pulled ever muscle tight for a moment before her shoulders simply fell and she laughed. “By the nine I… Normally I can't shut up, can I?” She bit her lip, taking care not to meet your eye. “But now? I can't even string a sentence together…” 

You couldn’t help but grin a little bit, pushing back another wave of tears. 

“But… you are right though.” Loki continued. She tugged nervously at her fingers, the joints popping under the strain. Her blue eyes met yours with an expression you hadn’t seen from her before. She looked… helpless. 

“You’re absolutely terrifying.” She said with a grin. “But I can promise you that is not the reason I stay away.” 

“Then why?” You were so tired. So tired of not knowing the whys. Of not knowing what or who you were to them.

“It’s… It’s something I think is better shown than explained.” She looked frightened. Of what? “I know this is a lot to ask of you, and if you say no… I understand but… If you could please, just… trust me.” 

You weren’t sure what worried you more- the fear and desperation in her voice, or the idea of placing so much trust in her hands.

Loki flinched as you stepped towards her. Gently, you offered her your hand, and she took it, the same strange noncorporeal pressure you had become accustomed to. The closest thing to touch you had. She wrapped both hands around yours, her eyes begging you to answer. You met them with as much confidence as you could. 

“Okay.” 

Chapter Text

Loki had left not long after, insisting you meet them near the library as soon as the sun went down. You hadn’t realized how long the “servant” had remained in your room until your mother peppered you with questions upon her departure. 

You did your best to casually explain that she simply had a message from the Allmother, who was asking after your health, and you took a few moments to create the right reply. Nonetheless, your heart beat against your ribcage as if it would break free at any moment. 

You did your best to finish the food Loki had brought- suspicious that if you did not there would be consequences. You pulled your notebook from your wardrobe and dressed as quickly as you could. A glance in the mirror made you contemplate if that had been wise. Loki’s polished appearance with perfect braids and well pressed dress was a stark contrast to what you saw reflected. 

Loki used magic. It doesn’t count.  

Still, you found yourself wanting to look a specific way when Loki saw you. You fussed with your hair and clothes, unable to make them feel or sit quite right. How had you managed to dress yourself before? Why was today so different? It was true you had barely slept or eaten over the last day-but the slight shake in your hands had begun to fade, and your head no longer ached- so why? 

There was a light knock at your door. 

“Come in.” 

Your Mother opened the door slowly. “Are you doing alright? I wanted to be sure you had eaten what she brought.” Your cheeks reddened against your will. 

“Yes, I ate. I’m feeling better, I’m just trying to get myself ready for the day.” 

“I can… see that.” She said with a frown. You shot her a glare, but she merely laughed. “Sit down, I’ll fix your hair for you at least.” 

Reluctantly you complied. You clearly were having no luck with it yourself, so there was no use in fighting it. It had been years since she had done your hair for you, not since you were much younger. Her fingers were too strong, and always made your braids a bit too tight for your liking, but still, it was comforting to have something so simple and so familiar. You could almost imagine you were back at home. 

“So…” Your mother said brightly. You knew that tone. Damnit. “That girl was very lovely.” She tried very hard to make it seem light, and non accusatory- but the small grin, you could see reflected in the mirror told you otherwise. 

“Mother, please.” 

“What’s her name?” She cooed. “Is that where you’ve been sneaking off to in your own time?” 

“Mother!” You felt your ears burn “We’ve been here four days, how would I have time to…” 

“You knew Astrid for three.” 

“Astrid was different.” You insisted. 

“And Ulf?” 

“We knew each other for years, and besides nothing came of either crush and you know it.” 

“Hmm.” She shrugged, “Perhaps, but then all the more reason to be excited for this one.” 

She set the last pin into place. “I think she’ll like this.” She said, admiring her handiwork. Though tight, as usual, it was lovely. Simple, and remarkably similar to Loki’s-with a few of your mother’s own accents. She meddled far too much, you thought. 

“ I like it.” You said, rolling your eyes. “And as it is for me, and only me, that’s all that matters.” Your mother sighed.

“Fine, keep your poor mother in the dark.” She said dramatically. “Just tell us if you two get into a spat, so I know to look out for spit in our food.” 

“That’s disgusting.” 

“Jilted lovers have done far worse all throughout history. In fact the arguments of jilted lovers seems to have started over half of it.” She laughed. “Though your father would be a better judge of that.” 

You didn’t care to imagine what sort of things Loki may have done to past lovers. 

Were there any? You blushed. Your own experiences with attraction didn’t even require a whole hand to count, but a prince? It would likely be best if you didn’t think about it where others could see. 

“What are your plans for the day?” You asked, quickly changing the subject. 

“I’ve finished a number of proposals over the last few days, so today I intend to go over them with the Prince and we will settle on one to put before the King and Queen.” 

“I didn’t know you were working with Prince Thor.” 

She laughed. “No darling, though I'm sure he would be glad for a break from your father. Prince Loki has been the one in charge of the more technical aspects it would seem.” 

Your body flinched when you heard the name. You prayed your mother hadn’t noticed. 

“Oh.” You said as flatly as you could manage. “I had no idea.” 

“Well you haven’t exactly asked.” She teased. “Though now that I’ve seen why, I don't suppose I can blame you.” 

You felt a twinge of guilt. Your mother had just as much business in this palace as your father had, but with all that had been going on around you, you had only paid attention to his. 

Your mother had always been far more steady of temperament than your father. While he was subject to the whims of his research, she had kept things running. She had ensured your schooling, ran the house, and still managed to oversee her business all at once. 

And you hadn’t even bothered to ask her about it. 

“I’m so sorry… I don’t know why…” She cut you off.

“Thank you, sparrow. I appreciate it, but I promise you I am just fine.” Her face was warm and comforting as she patted your hand gently. “I know full well how single minded you and your father get when something has your attention.” She pulled you in close for a hug. “That just means that on the skiff home, I get to talk your ears off” She whispered. “Oh, and the next three days at home as well.” 

You laughed. “I can’t wait.” 

“Strange to think we will be home so soon.” She hummed. “It’s become very comfortable very fast.” 

It hadn’t struck you that so much time had passed- but four nights had already come and gone. You had slept through most of today already, which left you only a little more than two days time to… 

To what?

You hadn’t really thought about what your goal in all this had been. At first it was simply to transcribe for your parents. Then you got swept up in your game with Loki, and then ultimately swept up in Loki altogether. And now? You weren’t sure anymore.

The conversation you had just finished was vague at best. It struck you that you had never seen either of you struggle so much to complete a sentence before. When it came to lies, or idle threats and flirts the words came easy- but the moment either of you tried to share some sort of truth you forgot how to speak. You felt you had made your position as clear as you could have (given you weren’t entirely sure how you felt, yourself), but Loki? 

You felt the familiar unease sink into your stomach. What was so frightening about you? Why couldn’t you just be told why Loki had never been physically there? 

What did he intend to show you?

“Mother?” you cut the silence as she had begun thumbing through the jewelry you had left tangled in a drawer. “What do you think of the princes?” 

“The Princes? Why do you ask?” 

You bit your lip, trying to come up with a good enough lie. You regretted that it suddenly felt easier after the last few days. Too much time with the God of Lies.

“I’ve not had the chance to interact with them much.” You said, trying to sound casual. “And they seem so different at meals, it’s hard to believe they’re brothers.” 

Your mother laughed. “You only see it that way because you’re an only child.” 

“Oh come, you can’t possibly expect me to believe that they’re that different simply because they’re brothers.” 

“Well, they present differently on the outside, yes. When you have a sibling you must find your own identity so that you aren’t forever stuck in their shadow.” Your mother had grown up with three sisters, and when you thought about each of them- what they liked and excelled in- they seemed to have taken great care not to overlap. “But they’re both still prince’s of Asgard. In my dealings with Prince Loki he’s shown to be a dedicated and reliable man when it comes to work.” 

That caught you a bit off guard. “You’ve been working with Loki?” 

She nodded. “He seems to be in charge of the minutiae of the plans for Midgard, so he had requested my help for trade plans. He’s been remarkably thorough.” 

You stared at your mother as she tried to pull a necklace loose from the tangle of chains. 

“What is he like?” 

“Loki?” She set the jumble down and seemed to consider her words carefully. “As I said, the prince seems very capable in his work. Where it comes to him as a person, I don’t know that I could say anything with any real certainty. However…” 

You watched her brow crease and her eyes wander off elsewhere. You pulled at your ear nervously. 

“...I feel he’s the sort of man to keep a careful eye on. Not just because he’s the God of Mischief, but because he never quite seems himself. Like he’s always melding to suit whoever he finds himself with.”

You couldn’t disagree. He changed moods as quickly as night turned to day- and twice as often. The smallest of sleights could turn a laugh into a blind rage. 

“I don’t think he would ever do anything to hurt me.”  Your mother continued, likely misinterpreting the source of your distress. “I just don’t know that I care to prove myself right. Some things are best just let be.” 

You nodded, eyes not quite settling anywhere. Your mother placed her hand on your shoulder and it snapped you back to attention. 

“Enough of that. What do you plan to do with the last few hours of daylight at your disposal?” 

You doubted you would be able to think of anything but your meeting later that day- and the anxiety that churned in your stomach made it unlikely you could eat anything either. 

“Maybe I’ll spend some time enjoying the gardens.” 

“I think that would be an excellent idea. All three of us could stand to do something apart from work for a few hours. But I do expect you to be there for dinner.” She lifted your chin to ensure you understood she was serious. “I would prefer you not worry our hosts again.” 

“I won’t, mother.” You lied. If you were to meet Loki after sunset you were sure you would be late at the very least. Would Loki be able to manage a projection in two places at once? It seemed to drain him markedly more than just one. How often had he done so for you recently? How often had he put forth the effort to become tangible just to manage the slightest touch? 

“Thank you.” Your mother’s voice snapped you from your trance. “Come then, I’m not leaving you in this room any longer” she said, ushering you towards the door. 

Your mother seemed just as surprised as you were to see the two Einherjar that now occupied the shared room with your father. His head shot up the moment  you entered. A smile spread abruptly across his face and he hurried towards you both. 

“Are you feeling better, Sparrow?” He asked, keeping his voice soft. 

“I am, but…” 

“Not to worry,” he grinned, “I’ve been requested to help with…” He glanced back at the soldiers for a moment “...something. I promise I’ll be back soon.” 

His excitement was palpable. His eyes twinkled, and you could almost hear his heart racing as he fussed at the corners of his coat. You spread to you in an instant.

“Do you need help? I can grab my notebook.” You whispered, excitedly. Your father’s grin spread wide across his face. 

“Not yet darling, but I promise I will let you in on everything as soon as I can.” He patted your cheek before turning to your mother and placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll be back, both of you stay out of trouble.” He teased, before shoving what he could from his desk into his arms, and striding off after the soldiers leaving you and your mother in stunned silence.

Chapter Text

By no means had you thought you were going to be able to focus before, but now as you wandered aimlessly through the gardens your mind seemed torn across a thousand places. Though they were stunning, the flora and fauna about you blurred together after only a short while. The silence was enough to allow you to relax, though, which was its own blessing. 

The palace itself seemed to be dealing with the exact opposite. You were unsure if it was just because you never spent so much time watching, but the halls seemed unusually busy. Servants, soldiers, and members of court all moved at the same hurried pace, muttering words you couldn’t quite hear. 

Whatever was going on within the palace, you seemed to be the last to know. 

Loki would certainly know. It was almost second nature now to reach for your notebook- to reach out to him. It flustered you to know just how often he crossed your mind. 

Your fingers searched for the notebook within your pocket, but you came up empty.

Damn.  

In your rush out the door you must have forgotten it. Between the lack of sleep, Loki's visit, and your father’s rushed departure you shouldn’t have been surprised. You felt very suddenly exposed, like a tether to safety had been snapped. You had become more reliant on your connection to Loki than you had realized-

What would it be like when you returned home?

You shook the thought from your mind as your feet moved on their own to return back to your quarters. Your mother had insisted you not come back to the room for a while, but surely she wouldn’t throw a fuss if you told her it was for your map. It was all too easy to get lost in a place like this, and while you felt a twinge of pride for having found your way to the gardens on your own, you needed your notebook. 

The halls were much busier than they had even been on your way to the gardens. You had to dip and turn to avoid people as few seemed to pay you any more than a passing glance. It wasn’t anything to be worried about, you were sure, the light in your father’s eyes made it quite clear this wasn’t something that would warn of danger, but still, not knowing made you uneasy. 

You heard the sound of their footsteps before they rounded the corner. Thor came striding down the hallway first, Loki keeping pace at his side. The tone of their voices made it clear they were in the middle of an argument. 

You moved quickly to stand back against the wall and out of their way. Thor breezed past you, but Loki caught your eye almost instantly. His pace faltered for no more than half a step before he fell back in rhythm with Thor. Something in his eyes seemed almost apologetic. Your heart sank. Whatever this was, it would likely require his attention far after the sun had set.

The princes vanished from sight almost as quickly as they had appeared, leaving you alone with the indifferent crowds. You absolutely needed your notebook now. You turned about quickly, but only made it a few steps before something took hold of your arm and pulled you through a doorway. You opened your mouth to scream, but something clamped over it quickly. 

You recognized the feel of an incorporeal hand before you recognized Loki’s face so close to your own. Your heart leapt into your throat, and as it began to race you were glad his attention was turned away- checking to be sure no one had seen him pull you aside. 

Loki removed his hand shortly thereafter, and looked at you, confused. 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve not responded to a single message all morning, and now you’re here wandering the halls for some unknown reason.” He huffed. 

“I forgot my notebook.” 

“So… you’re lost.” He sounded almost amused.

“I’m not lost.” you said defiantly, “I made it to the gardens just fine on my own, but when I realized I didn’t have it on me I was worried that if you…” You bit down hard on your lip before you could finish the sentence. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” 

“Ah.” He said, his tone turning dismal. “My brother has deemed it appropriate to bring his mortal... companion to Asgard- and it has put the Allfather in a rather foul mood.”

“The Midgardian woman?”  No wonder your father had been so excited. 

“Thor brought her this morning, and she seems to have brought something with her.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Loki paused for a breath, seemingly unsure of how to address your question. Something in him seemed reluctant to say, and yet as you felt the gentle weight of his hand on your arm you knew a part of him wanted nothing more than someone to confide in. 

“I cannot share now, I have to return my attention to my brother, but I will share when I can. I promise.” 

You nodded. “We’re not in danger, are we?” 

Loki’s jaw set tightly. “I am… unsure as of yet.” Your stomach lurched. “All the same I would ask that you spend as much time in your quarters as possible.” 

You frowned at him sharply. “Loki…” 

“Don’t.” He reprimanded, holding up a finger. “I understand you are not one to sit still but I am asking you to do this for your safety.” 

You weren’t sure why you bristled at that. Did he see you as something fragile? So breakable that busy halls and a mortal would put you at risk?

“I’m not made of glass.” You said with a frown. 

“I would not imply that you were.” 

“Yet you find it risky for me to wander the halls with a mortal about? Is what she brought with her so dangerous that my confinement is necessary?” 

“Yes.” His tone was brusque. The look in his eyes left no room for ambiguity-whatever the midgardian woman had brought along was enough to put him on edge. It startled you. “And if my brother is correct, there are those who seek to take it from her regardless of what, or who, stands in their way. So I am asking you to do what you can to be sure, if they come, you are not in their way.” 

“I…” 

“ Please .” 

“Loki, I will be fine.” You said as reassuringly as possible. “I will be careful, and I will do what I can to stay in my quarters when possible, but you must promise to come explain as soon as you can.” 

“I will write you the moment I know.”

“No,” you said firmly. “I want you to come to me.” 

He wrinkled his brow. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Whatever it is that’s going on, I don’t want to deal with the notebook as a middleman. It’s not like you’ve not broken into my quarters before.” 

It was Loki’s turn to go red. He suddied you for a moment, and you did your best to hold his gaze as firmly as possible. “And why would you ask me to do that?” He said slowly. 

“If this is really as dangerous as you say it is, then I shouldn’t be wandering the halls. And I don’t particularly care to discuss something of this gravity through a notebook. In person would be far better, don’t you think?” 

You hadn’t considered the implications of asking him to your room until the words had left your mouth. You had been so used to him being something intangible that such things hadn’t crossed your mind. But things had begun to change. Even now, as you knew it was no more than a projection before you, his proximity set every inch of your skin on alert. You were aware of his eyes, and how hard it was to hold his gaze- of how the daylight mapped his sharp features. You could appreciate just how expressive his face could be, and- as one began to slide across his lips- you remembered just how blinding his grin could be. Your heart began to race against your will. 

“I suppose that’s reasonable.” He said with a slight laugh. “Though perhaps, with your permission, I could speak with you in your dreams?” His tone seemed hopeful. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Why there?” 

“I hate to admit, I’ve been… worn thin as of late. Sustaining myself in too many places has become a challenge- and I would prefer to provide you my full attention.” 

You chewed your lip gently. You couldn’t forget how the last two times had gone. A reflexive fear made the hairs on your skin stand on end. “Loki I…” 

“I won’t hurt you. I swear that to you. I cannot tell you how much I regret those times… I…” He pulled nervously at his fingers. “I just ask for this one chance to prove that to you. I won’t touch you at all if you don’t wish it, but I could…” He paused, his eyes searching for the right words. “It may be a few days before I can spare the energy to divide myself, and I do not wish to wait that long to speak to you again.” He admitted. 

That was not the response you had been expecting. You hadn't seen him unsure about anything before, but here and now he seemed a completely different person. Who that person was you were yet to see, but his expression seemed genuine. You fought between fear and curiosity, but in the end curiosity won out. 

“Alright.” You said with a nod. “I will try and rest as early as I can so we have time.” 

“Thank you.” He said as his shoulders relaxed. “I have to go, but I promise I will see you tonight.” 

“Tonight.” You agreed. 

Loki’s sharp blue eyes moved across your face, memorizing what of it he could- delaying his departure for just moments more. You couldn't help but grin at him. “Loki, go.” You urged. 

He frowned theatrically, but his smile still pulled through. “Yes, my lady.” he teased- and in a shimmer of green, he was gone. 

Chapter Text

The final few hours of the day came painfully slow. You made your way back to your quarters with the excuse of looking for your notebook in mind- but when you arrived your mother wasn’t there. 

You took the opportunity to settle into one of the chairs near the fireplace and thumb through a few of the books on the shelves. Very little of it registered, your mind otherwise occupied by the coming night. A thousand scenarios raced through your head ranging from dangerous to… very personal. You had yet to adjust to thinking of Loki like that, but a part of you took great comfort in the fact that his actions implied he thought of you in much the same way. 

You pulled restlessly at your ear. Dinner would likely seem an eternity. Perhaps you could fake sick- you had already slept away a whole day anyway. 

Fate proved on your side tonight, as neither your mother nor your father returned to the rooms to force you to the hall. When the sun finally faded from the sky you pulled out your notebook and penned a line to Loki in what was left of your shared page.

‘ I will see you soon’  

Too nervous to wait for the reply, you did the bare minimum to prepare for bed, and threw yourself beneath the sheets. You fought with your mind for quite a while before it agreed to be silent, and you could even consider falling asleep. The longer it took to fall asleep, the more anxious you were that Loki would not wait for you- which in turn made it that much harder to sleep. 

You tossed and turned for what felt like hours, until at last you seemed to tire yourself out, and your eyes began to close.

When at last you opened them again, you were greeted by the sight of your own room. The late evening sun warmed the floor with its colors, and a small fire flickered in the fireplace. It had gone unused throughout your visit so far, but you were glad for its comfort now. You were seated in one of the chairs beside the hearth, which was one of the few indications you were indeed asleep. 

That, and the cool hand that brushed against your cheek

Loki stood beside you, and offered a soft smile as you turned to face him. 

“You certainly took your time.” 

“I had an unusually difficult time falling asleep.” you admitted. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” he said pointedly “You did sleep until noon.” His finger traced gentle lines up and down your cheek. Their cold stood out against the fire, and the building heat of your own skin. The way he looked at you, you wondered if he fully realized he was doing it. 

His hands were rougher than you expected a prince’s hand to be- but you supposed a lifetime of battles and sparring alongside his brother would have toughened them greatly. You resisted the urge to reach up and examine his fingers with your own. You reluctantly admitted that you didn’t want to startle his touch away. 

“Did you wait long?” 

“Hard to say.” he admitted, “In dreams time moves in ways that are difficult to predict and track. I could have been here for hours, but it only seemed like a few minutes.” 

“They must have been frightfully long ones since they warranted a mention.” you teased. Loki opened his mouth, but almost immediately snapped it shut with a sigh. Much to your dismay he withdrew his hand, which elicited an involuntary groan of disappointment from you. His brow arched in surprise.

“Did that warrant a complaint as well?” He looked so pleased with himself you were quite tempted to smack him. 

“We’re here so you can explain to me what’s been going on, no?” You said, desperate to change the subject. You should have known he wouldn’t let you. He settled into the chair beside yours, not letting his eyes leave you for a moment.

“No, no I think this is much more interesting.” He teased. “Are you so desperately touch starved that my hand is something you would miss?” 

“Loki, please.” you groaned irritably 

“Come now, you can’t just leave me with no answers.” He lavished in his own mischief, and the growing red on your face. It was irritating how quickly he could fluster you and take command of a moment. 

Two can play at that game. 

“Come now, my prince , you know as well as I that some of our interactions have been a bit more than friendly.” 

“Have they now?” 

You ignored him. “Can you blame me for being disappointed to lose the first real touch I’ve felt from you?” Your face reddened against your will. That condition did not improve when Loki’s expression moved somewhere between fascination, hunger, and surprise. 

“I.. I promise you it’s not been a deliberate act on my part to… deprive you.” He placed his elbow on the arm of his chair, resting his hand over his mouth. His eyes looked past you for a few moments and you watched his breath become even and slow. It stirred a strange panic in you. 

“So what’s been happening that’s kept you away?” 

Loki sighed, and you watched his shoulders relax as he met your gaze once again. “As I mentioned before, my brother has brought his woman from Midgard to the palace.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “Apparently, he had left her on Midgard while he dealt with unrest across the nine realms- believing that would keep her safe. Somehow he also got it in that oafish skull of his that informing her of this plan was an optional step.” His tone was bitter. “So he left her there without a word for two years-quite a long time for a mortal.” 

“I imagine she was less than pleased.” 

“Quite the understatement.” He laughed dryly. “I am told that she caught sight of him when… well…during my own, less than welcome visit to the mortal realm.” 

You shivered. So much if you wanted the stories of what happened in the mortal realm to be untrue. Or perhaps an incomplete truth. Still, the outbursts you had seen from him only made it all the more frightening. 

His eyes turned cold, watching your reaction carefully. 

“ I see.” You said, prompting him to continue. You wanted to know everything, but now was not the time. You did not completely trust him, and he did not completely trust you. Until that had changed you doubted you would get an honest answer. 

Loki took a deep breath and continued. “I assume that, until that point, she had either believed he was dead, unable to return, or had simply abandoned her. When the first two assumptions proved untrue, she made a considerable effort to find her way to Asgard on her own.” 

“I wasn’t aware they had the ability to do that.” 

“Oh they don’t. However the Nine have begun to feel the effects of the coming convergence, and she managed to stumble her way to places she should not have been.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“Apparently, Odins vault of treasures is not the only place where the trophies of past conquests are kept.” 

“Where…” 

Loki only shrugged. “Far beneath Asgard somewhere. She seems to have found a portal of some sort that put her right in the middle of it and in contact with an ancient power we thought long destroyed. Unfortunately it is very much intact, and has decided to use her as a vessel of sorts - slowly tearing her apart from the inside.” 

“It’s, what? ” You felt a bit sick picturing such a thing. Mortals already had such frightfully short lives, and for one to be cut even shorter in such a way was appalling. Loki frowned somewhat sympathetically. 

“While I don’t share the same… affinity towards mortals as you or my brother, I do realize the consequences of such a thing being loosed on Asgard should she die. What’s more, there will likely be those who come for it.”

“Who would come for it?” 

He hesitated. “Thor seems to believe… the Dark Elves.” 

“But the Dark Elves are dead.” 

“And the Aether was destroyed, yet here we are.” 

You fell silent as you processed this. The dark elves had been eradicated long before you were born. The tales of the horrific monsters they created to fight their battles had long since faded into no more than fairy tales and ghost stories. To imagine that they had survived unnoticed for so long unsettled you greatly. 

“For that reason I have asked your mother and father to remain here to help us with the Midgardian- at least for a few more weeks.” He continued. “Though I am admittedly torn about keeping you here.” 

“And why is that?” You asked, a twinge of hurt in your voice. 

Loki took a deep breath. “I… If the dark elves do come it will be dangerous. Very dangerous. There are entrances to Asgard the gatekeeper cannot see, and were our enemies to find them there would be little to no warning before an attack. In my current situation I cannot protect you in the way I would want to.” His face twisted in pain. “But I also find that a very selfish part of me wishes you to stay…” 

Your heart found its way into your throat. 

Despite the heat that crept along your skin, you couldn’t tear your eyes from his. A smile pulled at the corners of your eyes. 

“Then I will.” 

He eyed you cautiously. “This isn’t a decision you have to make now. It’s not one to take lightly either. If something were to…” 

You held up your hand to stop him. “If my family is here, I will remain here. If they are to be in danger then I could not imagine leaving them.” You bit down on your lip. “And I’ve found it increasingly difficult to imagine leaving…” the words failed to form, anxiety choking them before they could manifest. 

No. 

No, this needed to be said. Why did it terrify you so? Why was your heart racing as if you could bolt at any moment? Why…. 

You pressed your eyes closed tight. You wouldn’t allow yourself one more moment to think. 

“D…difficult to imagine leaving you.” 

The silence that followed hung heavy on the air. Each second with no reply seemed to last an eternity. 

Say something. Do something. Open your eyes. 

Had you misread things so drastically? Your legs burned, desperately willing you to flee. Where would you go? It was a dream, there was nowhere to go. 

But fear won out. 

Pulling your eyes open, you shot to your feet. “Forgive me I shouldn’t have…” 

His hand was around your wrist before you could finish. Reflexively you pulled back and he quickly let go. 

“Forgive me I…” 

You met his eyes, his expression difficult to read. You held your breath as you tried to push down the fear that lingered behind your eyes. 

Loki had become remarkably still except for the tightened muscle of his clenched jaw. His eyes bored into yours as if looking hard enough would reveal the lie in your words. His mind turned, searching to find words of his own. 

“I beg you.” He said, his voice frightfully low and even. “Do not use words you don’t mean.” 

At first all you could do is look at him with disbelief- but it quickly turned to irritation. 

“You think I’m lying to you?” 

“That’s not what I said.” He cautioned. 

“Then what did  you say.” You snapped. 

He frowned. “I asked you not to say things you do not mean. You cannot possibly tell me that the few days you have been stuck with me could have possibly  made you wish to stay. Let alone want to…” 

“Why not?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“How is it that you cannot believe I would want to stay near you  after just a few days when you yourself just admitted to having felt the same?” Anger had begun to boil inside you. How could the God of lies not tell the difference between the truth and a deception? 

“That is a very different.” He growled. 

“How?” 

Loki remained silent. 

“ How is it different, Loki?” You demanded. The anger and frustration had wiped away your fear. You reached out and took his hand, slowly lacing your fingers between his. 

“Please.” You pleased, softening your voice. “Explain to me so I can understand.” An ache grew behind his eyes. 

“I can’t.” He said, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to…” he groaned in frustration, turning his eyes from you. “I just can’t.” His hold on your hand grew just a bit stronger, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “Please don’t ask it of me.” 

“But you know.” you ventured. 

“I do.” 

“Then tell me this instead.” You lifted your hand to his cheek, gently turning him to face you. He seemed almost alarmed by the contact but followed your lead without resistance. “You can spot a lie better than anyone, can you not?”

“I can…” he said, hesitantly. 

‘Then look me in the eyes and tell me I am not being completely honest when I say I want to stay here- not despite you, but because of you.” Your heart ached as he searched your eyes, still desperate to find a lie. “If you don’t truly want me to stay, I will go.” You said gently. 

“No.” He said abruptly with a firm shake of his head. He withdrew his hand from yours to place both on either side of your face. His fingers slipped through your hair and around the back of your neck sending a shiver down your spine. Loki rested his lips against your forehead gently, and for the first time his smell crossed your senses. It was like ink and leather. Old papers and steel. You pressed your eyes closed with a contented sigh, your fingers wrapping gently around his wrists. 

“Then we’re agreed.” You murmured with a smile. You felt his chest shift as he laughed. 

“Indeed we are.” He barely bothered to move his lips from your face as he spoke-it almost tickled. You weren't sure your skin had ever felt this alert before. Every brush and breath from him was more real than anything you could ever remember having felt. Your head felt light, but it wasn’t enough. 

You pulled your head back slightly to look up at him. You met his eyes with a wordless question- and though it took him a moment to understand, he drew a deep breath and nodded slowly. 

You closed the distance between you and Loki in an instant. Your hand slid over the back of his head, winding his hair around your fingers as you pulled him to you. He offered no resistance, instead letting his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you tight against him. As your lips met you felt your head spin. His chest rose and fell in time with your own as soft and gentle kisses became harder.

Hungrier. 

Despite the cold of his skin, the heat of his breath washed across your skin with each labored breath you drew. His hands moved across your form as if unsure where to remain- unsatisfied with not being able to hold all of you at once. Your grip on his hair tightened, and a small moan escaped your lips. 

Loki pulled back abruptly, looking down at you with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Now what was that? ” he asked breathlessly. You wined in protest, pushing onto your toes to try and kiss him again. He managed to keep just barely out of your reach. 

“Oh no,” he hummed. “No, I want to hear that again.” 

Your breath caught, and heat washed through every inch of your body. His fingers locked themselves in your hair, gently pulling your head to the side. You yielded without hesitation. 

You gasped sharply as his lips pressed against the skin of your neck, working slowly and methodically from your ear to your collarbone. His breath pooled against your skin, kisses becoming small bites, and growing harder witch each touch that elicited a whimper of pleasure from you. You dug your fingers into his shoulders, desperate to keep upright as your legs started to waver beneath you. 

“Loki…” you begged. You felt his chest rumble as he sank his teeth into your shoulder- your legs finally giving way. He held you firm, moving quickly to lift you so your legs could wrap around his waist. He grinned at you yelped in surprise- placing his hand across the back of your head so you didn’t strike it as he pushed you up against the wall. 

He held you in place with his full weight, returning his attention to your neck, but allowing his hands to slide along the skin of your leg, pushing your skirts ever higher.  You wrapped your legs tightly around him, your breath catching as you felt his hips press hard against yours. You could feel him swell- pressing against you through your clothes. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pressed your lips hard against his shoulder as another cry of pleasure escaped you. 

You could feel the shiver that ran across his skin. He withdrew his lips from your neck and pressed his forehead to yours as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes were just as hazy as your own, and he gave you a weak smile as his chest heaved. A smile of your own pulled across your lips as you let your fingers trace the lines of his face. His eyes fell closed as you placed soft kisses across his face. You lavished in the heat that had risen beneath his skin, the usual cold having faded into a gentle warmth. 

You could only imagine how hot your own skin burned against his. 

As his breath evened, he lifted his gaze to lock with yours. The ice blue of his eyes seemed gentle and open in a way you had not seen from him before. Your heart beat faster, and your smile widened. 

“You know,” he whispered, lips brushing against your ear as his hands gripped your waist. “I think you’ve made a terrible mistake.” His tone was teasing. You laughed.

“Have I now?” 

“Mmm.” He murmured, pressing his lips firm against yours. With a sigh you relaxed into him, letting his teeth bite gently at your bottom lip. 

“You’ve given me far too much power.” 

His voice was a low growl, and before you could respond, you felt his hips rock hard against yours. A wave of pleasure washed through you- your limbs tightening their grip around him. No noise managed to escape your mouth, just a gasp as he moved slowly against you. 

You desperately wished there weren’t clothes in the way. 

Hips now moving in time with his, you kissed Loki deeply until every breath and every movement seemed to come together as one. His moans began to reverberate against your skin, sending waves through you each time he muttered your name under his breath. He pressed his lips into your shoulder and you pressed your own into his neck as he grew harder against you. Your head spun- you wanted this feeling to last forever. 

Suddenly Loki froze. He lifted his head as if looking for the source of a sound only he could hear. 

“Loki?” You asked, still struggling to find your breath. “What’s wrong.” 

His jaw clenched tightly. “Why can't they just let me sleep...”

Your heart sank. “Please… don't go.” 

He pulled you as tight against him as he physically could, placing desperate kisses along your neck and face. “I’m so sorry, it doesn’t seem I have a choice.” he groaned. “Trust me the last thing I want to do is go.” He held your face in his hands and looked deep into your eyes. “The last thing.” 

You pulled him close for one last kiss, holding it for as long as time would allow. 

“Tomorrow night.” You begged. “Meet me again tomorrow night?” 

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.” He nodded, stealing one last kiss before lowering you onto your feet. “Tomorrow.” He said with a smile, before the world seemed to snap shut and you thrust headlong into the light of day. 

Chapter Text

You snapped upright, heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the room. A part of you hoped to still see him there by the fireplace, hoping he would call you to him. That the dream would continue. 

You let your head fall back to the pillows, hand resting softly over your heart. Closing your eyes you tried to slow your breathing. If you could just bring yourself back to reality…

Though if you were to be honest, you doubted you would ever think of anything else in this room again. The thought sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. Your fingers moved mindlessly across your own skin as you tried desperately to hold on to the memory of his. The way his fingers tangled in your hair, the way he had pressed you against the wall, the way he had felt between your legs. 

The thought did nothing to slow your heart. 

What are you doing?

A few days ago you had no intention of speaking to Loki, let alone allowing him to touch you like that. He was a prince.  A prince of Asgard. Someone who you, by technicality, worked for. He had driven you crazy, charmed you, scared you...and you desperately wanted him to touch you again. 

The reality of the physical distance between you set in slowly. Never once in person had you seen him. Never once outside a dream had you touched anything more than a spectre. How could you know that was truly how his touch felt? Was that really how his lips tasted? Was that truly his smell? 

Loki had promised to tell you why, to show you why he had never been by your side-but you had quickly become distracted. You cursed who, or whatever had shaken him from his dream. Had it continued how far would it have gone? How much of him would you have come to know? Heat washed over your body, and you pulled your blankets to cover your face. A whole day would have to pass to see him again. It seemed an eternity away. It would leave you far too much time to think. You pulled your head out from beneath the sheets to peer at the wall beside the fireplace. You could still feel the cold of it against your back. 

This would be a very long day. 

When at last you were able to drag yourself out of bed, you resolved to throw yourself headlong into work. Your father had yet to share the information about the Midgardian with you, but no doubt he would do so soon and he would be in need of your assistance. Failing that, you could help your mother. Though the math involved with shipping had never quite managed to hold your attention; you were far from poor at it. Even still, you always were eager to learn about the things they would carry, and the places they would be carried to. 

Perhaps today she has a meeting with Loki. 

You shook your head abruptly. The point was to take your mind off of him, not find your way back to him. Besides, you weren't sure you could bear sitting alongside him when you knew you couldn’t touch him. After last night, it would be torture. 

Setting your hair came much more easily this morning- and it took no more than half a second to select the green dress you had ignored for so long. The green ribbon Loki had worn came to mind and you wished you had one of your own. Though perhaps it would be best not to plaster his colors over every inch of you so suddenly. You blushed deeply. 

You know what happened, but the palace does not. 

It was probably best if it remained that way for now. 

As you reached to place your notebook in your pocket you couldn’t help but hesitate for a moment. Should you write him something? Perhaps he had already written something to you. What does one even say after an encounter like that? Simple pleasantries wouldn't do, surely, but anything else still felt personal on a level you didn’t know if you had yet reached. 

You shoved the notebook into your pocket, tucking your pen behind your ear. You had to get out of this room or your mind would think far too much about a great many things. 

Fortunately your parents seemed to have awakened early as well. They seemed to have forgotten their threats from the night before about missing the feast in the hall. The Midgardian woman had captured everyone's attention and your absence had been graciously overlooked. Your stomach, however, was not quite so forgiving. 

You did your best to appear surprised as your father filled you in on the new arrival as you  made your way to the hall. He had met her in person at dinner but had yet to persuade her to sit down with him for an interview. No doubt she would be far more interested in learning of Asgard herself- and were she as sick as Loki claimed, she might not have a lot of energy with which to do so. You loved your father dearly but he was a man of boundless energy, with fascinations that demanded the same. Over the years you had learned when to keep pace with him and when to take shelter in the steady cadence of your mother. As your head and stomach ached, you were sure today would be one that demanded the latter. 

Neither Loki, Thor, nor the Midgardian appeared for breakfast that morning. You were disappointed but not surprised in the least. Instead, you set to asking your mother about her work. While she insisted all was well, something behind her eyes was unsettled. 

“It’s not that I’m worried,” Your mother explained, “So much as it is I feel I’m missing something.” 

Your mother was nothing if not meticulous. To miss something was not in her nature. 

“How so?”

“Well, it would seem that the palace wishes to make a show of the first official crossing to Midgard.” She pushed food around her plate absently. “We hope to provide a great number of gifts alongside the intended trade goods. Gold, scientific records, Asgardian delicacies, that sort of thing. All, I assume, in the hopes of replacing the memories of their last encounter with Asgardians. As much goodwill as Prince Thor has garnered, it's quite unlikely to outweigh the damage that was done.” 

“If Thor were to head the envoy I’m sure it would be well received.” You offered. 

“Or it could be perceived as another invasion.” She said sharply. 

Your mother’s combat experience was not something she cared to bring up often, but moments like this were a reminder of the things she had done and endured. 

She wasn’t wrong, you knew that. A large party of people from another realm would likely be seen as a threat. 

“Do they not intend to send word beforehand?”

“They do, once the bifrost is repaired, but that does little to ease my mind.” 

You frowned. “As… indelicate as this feels to suggest, mortals do live very short lives, don't they? Would it not be perhaps… prudent to wait a few hundred years before sending an envoy? Enough for a few generations to pass. If the event falls to memory, then perhaps the risk will be far less.” 

Your mother sighed. “Were this purely a matter of numbers and time, I would be inclined to agree with you. There is a risk, however, that the memory would fester, not fade- and that time would be spent not only on re-enforcing their resentment, but also on advancing their armaments.” 

“Which could prove quite the issue.” You nodded. 

“Correct. And besides, Prince Thor has become quite fond of Midgard. I think he hopes to see tensions eased before the end of his companion’s lifetime.”

That wasn’t much time to accomplish a task of that magnitude. Mortal’s lives spanned a hundred years at most, while the people of Asgard could live for thousands. 

“Which is why they hope to arrive with such a large envoy.” 

“Which leaves us back where we began.” Your mother said, leaning back in her chair. “I just fear the sort of danger that will put the envoy in. I would obviously prefer they be accompanied by armed forces simply for their protection, but they would need to do so discreetly- and likely every eye in the moral realm would be on them when they arrive. One mistake could put all their lives at risk.”

You had not thought relations with Midgard to be quite so dire, but your mother was unshakable by nature. To see her so perturbed left you deeply uneasy. 

“Well,” you said brightly “Since Prince Thor seems to have already taught the Midgardian to hide from father, perhaps I can help. There has to be something else to be done.” 

Your mother smiled at you. “I would be very grateful. Midgardian cultural norms are not my strength- nor are they Prince Loki’s it would seem.” she laughed. “Between the two of us we are in need of someone with a bit more… tact.”

You leaned across the table with an exaggerated whisper. “Then we best leave before father catches wind of our plans.” 

Your mother smacked your hand, but her chest shook with laughter. “You best watch yourself young lady, were he to hear you he would be absolutely devastated.” 

You rolled your eyes. “No doubt it would come as quite the shock to the man whose study subjects have so quickly learned to avoid him.” 

“He’s a sensitive man.” 

“They are all sensitive men, mother.” 

She shook her head with a smile and patted your cheek gently. “Which is why, little sparrow,  I thank the Norns every day for blessing me with a daughter.” 

______________

It felt cliché to be spending as much time in the library as you had- though you weren’t exactly sure why. 

It was an undeniably comfortable space; fully separated from the outside world in ways that allowed you to forget it all together. Even if just for a little while. 

Helping your mother research was a routine you fell into without a second thought. The Royal Archives contained more than enough material on Midgard alone to keep you busy for days. The notes you had taken in the interviews with Prince Thor had provided just enough information to keep you uneasy, however. It showed just how out of date the information was, and likely how useless it would be. Your mother had come to much of the same conclusion. 

You had come up with many alternatives, but given the number of unknowns, each seemed as dangerous as the last. A smaller envoy would be at risk of attack, and a smaller gift would have to be something of cultural importance. It would have to both provide value to the people of Midgard, but not make them a threat- and the realms peoples had so deeply subdivided themselves that if such a thing was only given to one group, conflict could arise. Even if Asgard provided the gifts slowly over time, the same risks applied. 

It was posited you could invite leaders from Midgard to Asgard, but it was far too likely that it would be seen as more of a threat than a gesture of peace. They would want to bring their own soldiers to protect themselves from the danger they doubtless saw Asagrd to be. 

Short of offering Prince Thor or Loki as a servant or sacrifice respectively, each idea presented too many risks. By the time the sun had begun to fade, both of you were exhausted.

“If only time were not such a pressing concern.” Your mother sighed. “Waiting a few hundred years would solve a good many problems.” 

“Waiting has just as much risk.” You said, stretching your stiff legs. “ Fear does wild things to the imagination.” 

“Perhaps a simple promise to close the gate to Midgard forever would be best.” She laughed. 

If only that were an option. Prince Thor would never accept it. He had already shattered the connection between the two once, and it had left him despondent. You feared he would simply choose to remain on Midgard with the woman - and you were not naïve enough to think Odin would hand the throne to Loki. You considered what would happen were the noble houses to vie for the throne. How long had it been since Asgard had seen full out war? It sent a shiver down your spine. 

“You’re sure the royal family cannot be convinced to just… postpone all of this? It’s not without its risks, but it's far preferable to the idea of marching an envoy unguarded into unfamiliar land.” 

Your mother leaned back in her chair. “I have no doubt the Allmother and Allfather would take to the idea easy enough, but I worry Prince Thor would not take to it as readily.” She began closing the books you had been pouring through and sorting her notes into place. “He has undoubtedly changed a great deal since the incident with Jotunheim, should disagreement between father and son lead to something similar…”  

“Well,” you said grimmly, “Perhaps then we would just end up with every gate closed forever. Hard to start a war with just yourself.”

Your mother sighed. “You are far too optimistic.” 

You hoped she would laugh, or smile. Something to say she was not serious; but her eyes remained distant, and her lips downturned. 

The two of you set to returning the various records to their proper place; both uneasy enough that you spoke little if at all. Your mother had seen a great many things you had not, and though she was generally a woman of few words; this silence was different. Too full of memories you did not share. When returning to your quarters you kept your hand on your mothers arm. A reminder, you hoped, to ground her. 

As much as you could grow tired of your father’s constant stream of ideas, they kept the silence at bay. Kept the memories that lurked in her mind from taking hold too quickly. 

Her distant stare was one you realized you had seen in Loki before. His persistent teasing, the pointless game, it had confused you so much. You had pondered why he had targeted you, what he had wanted from you - but now it had become clear that you had been the same as your fathers idle chatter. 

No more than a tool to keep the silence at bay.  

You hoped that had changed. It had to have changed. You hadn’t even found the stone in the second location and it seemed not to matter. The third had yet to be brought up at all. 

After last night, how could it not have changed? 

He’s a prince, you cannot be that naïve. 

You shifted uncomfortably. For reasons you could never pinpoint, accepting the affections of others had always been exceedingly difficult; and trusting those feelings were genuine was even harder. Your mind could chase itself in circles for days and you would come no closer to a decision. You knew that if it bothered you, the only way to settle it would be to ask Loki himself. 

What a thought, asking for truth from the God of Lies.  

He had been truthful with you before though, hadn’t he? How much value did that really hold? Rumors and stories hovered at the back of your mind like poison; rotting away the rose colored haze that had softened your day. 

“Thinking of anyone in particular?” Your mother’s question pulled you back to reality. 

“No…” 

“She was very lovely.” She said thoughtfully.

“Mother…” 

“Oh come now. Don’t think I am so old that a simple tryst would scandalize me.” 

“It’s not a  tryst. ” 

“It’s certainly not a courtship either, since you’ve not cared to mention her.” 

You sighed. So often you had confided in her about passing flames. To have kept your moments with Loki so secret from her felt strange. 

“How do you know if something is just a tryst or… something more?” 

Your mother chuckled lightly. “Well, if you’re only meant to spend a week in a place, that might signal a trist.” 

“Ah…” 

“Does that bother you?” 

“I… don’t know, I suppose. I’ve had so little time to get to know her that… Well I suppose I didn’t quite think there was anything at all until she came with breakfast the other day.” You realized you were pulling at the knuckles on your fingers as you had so often seen Loki do. “Then, we were just about to leave, so I waved it off; but now that we’re to extend our visit…” 

“That does sound like quite the conundrum.” Your mother hummed. “Though, not the worst one to have.” 

“Mother…” 

“I’m quite serious, sparrow.” She took your hand and patted it gently. “I will never be one to chastise you for indulging in fleeting romances. For one, it  would be quite hypocritical of me.” 

You wrinkled your nose at that. She rolled her eyes.

“But it would also negate the experience such things provide.” 

“Experience.” you said incredulously. 

“It’s like learning what foods you like.” 

“Metaphors are not your strong suit, mother.” 

“Hush child.” she scolded. “When you were little, there were many foods you had not experienced before. You could not tell which ones you would or would not like just by looking at them; so we encouraged you to try them all. With varied success, mind you.” You stifled a laugh. “But over time you got to know each of them, and could make judgments on what foods you might like based on the ingredients they contained. Some of the things you enjoyed when you were little are still some of your favorites- but others you have grown to love over time.”

“So you are telling me that love is… a buffet?” You teased

“I am telling you , that if you never sample different things you will never figure out what parts of them you enjoy or don't. Maybe you will find your first love was the truest; and maybe your hundredth will be the truest, but if you do not allow yourself the experience you will never know.” 

It made sense in ways you didn’t want to. In truth you wanted an answer that could provide you a clear line. A box you could use to fit around whatever your interactions with Loki had become. What she had provided you instead was far more complex- but no less true. 

“You could have said ‘just enjoy yourself’.” You laughed. 

“Oh come now, where’s the fun in that?” Your mother squeezed your arm tightly. “You may be my child, but you are a full grown woman now. I have to savor every last strange lecture I can subject you to.” 

Some of the tension that had built up between your shoulders had subsided. She had always been wonderful at easing your mind. You smiled and squeezed her arm back. “Thank you mother.” 

“I will always be here for whatever you need.” She promised. 

It was one of the few things you could believe was true. 

Chapter Text

Night fell slowly. 

At long last, dinner provided you the opportunity to meet the Midgardian woman, Jane, who had become the center of the palace’s activity. She was kind and confident, but she spoke little. Whatever ailed her showed in her face. Though she was bright as the evening began, she seemed to tire quickly in ways that seemed to frustrate her. You wondered how strange it must be for her here - stuck at the side of the prince of a realm she knew nothing of.

A prince she had not seen in quite a while, if Loki’s story had been true. 

She had graciously been seated far enough away from your father that he would be unable to ask her questions; and far enough from you that he could not ask you to do so in his stead. 

Loki did not appear- though you hadn’t expected him to. He had already warned he would be quite busy for a while; and with Jane’s arrival you didn’t doubt he had taken on a few of the responsibilities that would escape his brother’s attention. You had come to notice more and more how little Thor seemed to care for the responsibilities of the crown. You couldn’t blame him, it was a heavy burden to bear. Still, were he to abandon it entirely…

Odin would never let Loki take the throne. 

If Thor were to step away, you weren’t sure what would become of Asgard; but you doubted it would be anything good. 

You understood Loki’s frustration with his brother more and more. Both had unleashed their wrath upon the population of another realm, both causing great destruction- yet one sat here at the table, and the other remained tucked away and unseen. 

Part of you supposed it had much to do with the fact that the Jotun had once fought against Asgard and its people, and the mortals had worshiped them as gods. 

Still, everything you knew was second hand. Much like the books on Midgard, its information was second hand; and in the best of circumstances, quickly outdated. While you wanted to know for sure, you realized you would likely never know the stories of what happened in detail. Loki could weave one tale, and Thor another, but the truth could be neither. 

Your mind drifted back to the tapestry that was undoubtedly still at work deep below the palace. Likely it could share the truth, but you weren’t sure quite how objective the threads could be. What's more, something inside you didn’t want to know that version. You wanted to know his version. You wanted to trust it. 

The idea of constantly second guessing everything after every conversation exhausted you; and in the end, nothing you did would change what happened. It would not change how he was treated, or why he was apparently unable to see you in person. 

It would only change how you saw him. 

Not too far into the evening, Jane seemed ready to depart, exhaustion clearly showing on her face. As she and Thor slipped away, you took the chance to excuse yourself as well. 

The walk back was a welcome few moments of silence. You let your senses take over, absorbing the world around you. The smell of woodsmoke lingered in the cold night air; and the heels of your shoes echoed sharply against the stone walls. So much more of your body ached than you had realized. Even the teeth in your mouth seemed to ache from being clenched tight. You did your best to let your body relax; afterall, this was your chance to sleep. 

Would you even be able to sleep?

The day had left you frustratingly uncertain about a number of things- most of all, how you would react if you did see him tonight. There was little use in worrying, sleep would take you soon enough and you would have your answer. Still, your heart raced as you tucked yourself beneath the sheets. 

Exhaustion took you much faster than you had anticipated. You didn’t realize your eyes had fully closed until the soft crack of wood in the fireplace began to meld with a soft heat the flames cast. With a sigh you relaxed your weight into the chair, keeping your eyes closed just a few moments longer. 

“Your day was just as exhausting as mine, I see.” 

Loki’s voice came as a low hum. Soft as it was, it still made you jump as your eyes flicked open. 

He sat across from you, lounging back fully in his chair. His legs were spread wide in the wantonly confident posture he so readily adopted. It felt different to see him that way now; having seen him fully relaxed as he had been in the tapestry room. 

Is he… nervous? 

Loki smiled at you softly, his blue eyes gentle in a way you weren’t accustomed to. 

“Very…” You sighed, adjusting in your chair. “And remarkably long.” 

“Yes.” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “For a number of quite… unexpected reasons.” Your face grew hot, and you looked away. 

For the first time you allowed your surroundings to sink in. To your surprise, you weren’t in your room as you had been the night before. The space around you was far larger; dark wood furniture sticking out against the light stone that characterized much of the palace. To call it disorganized would be an understatement. The small table in front of the fire was covered in papers, and the shelves that lined the walls were full of haphazardly arranged books. Much of the furniture seemed just barely off kilter, angled as if someone had tried to straighten them with little success. 

The far wall was open to the sky much in the way the one in your room was. It was easy to tell, however, that this was much higher up. Even from where you were seated you were sure you were sure that, if you were to step out onto the balcony, you would be able to see almost all of Asgard. 

The smell was immediately familiar- leather and ink, old papers and steel- and everything was decorated with golds and greens. 

“Is this your room?”  You asked, curiosity overcoming your anxiety.

“Is that alright?” 

“Yes I just… didn’t expect it, that’s all.” 

“If it makes you uncomfortable this could easily become anywhere you wish.” 

He hid the nervousness in his voice well, but the way his eyes seemed to study you betrayed his discomfort. Despite how much you wanted to cling to your distrust- to protect yourself- your heart softened just a bit. 

“No, not uncomfortable.” You said, offering a comforting smile. You rose to your feet and he quickly mirrored. “May I?”

“Be my guest.” He said with a generous gesture. 

You took your time walking about the room; your fingers reaching out to examine everything you passed. It was remarkable how much detail existed in these dreams. You glanced back at Loki who had not moved from where he stood by the fire. His hands remained folded behind his back as he watched you carefully.

“All of this is remarkably real.” You admitted. 

“Memories are remarkably powerful things.” He said with a smile. “Our minds save much more than we tend to realize; it’s just a matter of being able to find it.” 

            “So this is built from your memories.” 

             Loki nodded. “Each one of these dreams has been constructed from my own memories.” 

That surprised you somewhat. You would have assumed they last night had been crafted from your memories of your quarters, not his. 

Perhaps he’s been in the guest quarters more than you know. 

You pushed the thought from your mind. 

“So your hands really are that cold, then?” You teased. He flinched but covered it with a smile. “Yes. Unfortunately my memory of myself is remarkably acute. Does it bother you?”

“No.” 

In truth it sent a shiver of delight through you.  So much of him was unknown to you- obscured by the distance that divided you. To at last have something so real engraved into your memory felt like an anchor. The first rock you had the chance to cling to in this strange storm. 

“Am I constructed from your memories?” You asked. 

“That’s a bit more complicated. What I see of you, and how I hear your voice is largely constructed from my own memories, but there is much of you I don’t know.” He admitted. “Everyone is theoretically able to draw out their own memories of themselves, so long as the host is willing to allow it. For some it comes naturally, for others it requires deliberate action. As such I’ve not quite... found the space with which to ask that of you…” His eyes broke contact with yours for just a moment before he continued. “But, that is not my focus as of now.” You felt frozen as he walked towards you. Slowly and deliberately he placed one foot in front of the other until he was barely a breath away. You felt his fingers slide gently over your arm before intertwining with yours. He lifted your hand and placed a small kiss there. 

“You are here.” He said softly. “For now, that is all I need.” 

The soft look in his eyes, the gentleness with which he held your hand, the way his voice sounded soft and warm- it washed away every hesitation you had. It frightened you how easily Loki could do that. You squeezed his hand tightly, letting the cold of his skin shift the temperature of your own. It triggered a strange pang in your chest. 

How frustrating it had been for you to just think about being unable to touch him. How it angered you to not know the little things you take for granted in those who are always beside you. How you had chastised him for it. Yet, here and now, he could not feel you. Were you no more than the strange, empty pressure you had felt from him in the day? You pursed your lips tightly. The fact that that was the only way he could perceive you was more upsetting than you could allow. 

You lifted your free hand to his cheek, gently brushing your fingers across his skin. 

“You look worried.” He said, voice barely a whisper. 

“Not worried. More… upset, I suppose.” 

Loki’s brow furrowed. You felt his fingers loosen their grip on yours. “Have I done something wrong?” 

“No.” You corrected, quickly. “No, I’m not upset at you, Loki.” You cupped his cheek in the palm of your hand, and he leaned into it ever so slightly. “I wish you had told me that you couldn’t…” 

You pulled his hand to your own cheek. “How do I… share those memories.” He stared at you for a moment, bemused, before allowing his thumb to move slowly across your skin. 

You felt your face redden. 

It frustrated you that he had flustered you so easily time and time again. Yet not once had you seen the same redness on his own face. You had seen him look away, react with embarrassment, fidget and fuss; but not once had he blushed. 

Then again, how many times had you seen him when he was not fully in control of the image he presented? It seemed unlike him to waste magic on something so trivial; and yet it seemed so completely childish that you couldn’t help but consider it. 

Loki had taken your hand, pressing it flat on top of his own as it rested on your cheek. It felt strange given how much larger his hands were than your own. He moved your fingers so that they fit between his, letting them touch your own skin. 

“It can be a strange thing to do deliberately, so bear with me.” He said. “I’m giving you control of my hand. Move it as you will, but as you do so, focus on the things you feel with your fingertips. Focus only on what you can feel. Try to distinguish as many details as you possibly can. Do you understand?” 

The very idea of it made your heart race. To stand so close to him, and to do what you pleased with his hand… Part of you feared moving it at all, and another part of you had far too many destinations in mind. His eyes held yours in a way that made everything else vanish from view. You swallowed hard and nodded. 

“Good.” He grinned and leaned in close, his breath brushing your ear. “I find it helps if I close my eyes.” He whispered. You nodded and did as he suggested, hoping he couldn’t hear how shaky your breathing had become.

It was difficult at first to focus on anything other than his hand. You took your time, simply moved your fingertips back and forth against your skin until you felt attuned to the fine details. 

Your hands moved together slowly. You parsed through everything you could find; the softest spots on your cheeks, the rougher bits of skin that were worn from years of idle fidgeting. You focused on where the skin warmed and cooled-even if only slightly. The points where your pulse was easy to feel as it raced just below the surface. Every imperfection became vital, a bit of a story that traced every stumble and fall, every childhood argument that had ended a bit too roughly. You traced the lines of your cheekbones and your jaw, the ridge of your brow.  

As you pulled his hand along your neck, he shifted to run his thumb across the line of your ear. Quickly your fingers followed to share what they could. You wondered how clearly he could feel the chill it sent along the hairs on your neck. 

The temperature of your skin had noticeably risen since you had begin, and your head had begun to feel light. You had never paid attention to the sensations of your own skin in so much detail before, and now it was nearly impossible to ignore. As you moved his fingers to trace the skin above your collarbone, your heart raced. You could feel your breathing shift, but you paid it no mind. 

His touch was cold, and a little rough. It stood out, sending small ripples of something dizzying across your skin. Lost in the sensation of it, you wanted more.  What you felt from your own fingers and what you were feeling from his began to blend into one, and it wasn’t until Loki cleared his throat softly that you fully realized what that meant.

“Unbiased details… if you could.”  He pleaded softly.

You hadn’t noticed his other hand had come to rest on your hip, or how his fingers had begun to dig softly into your side. You hadn’t noticed his head lean its weight against yours, or how his breath had become ragged. It sent a thrill through you.

Loki inhaled sharply, his fingers digging further into your hip. Your name escaped his lips like a plea, though for what you couldn’t decide. 

“You’re only going to make it worse.” You warned, your face warming. 

“Hmm...” He muttered, clearly only half paying attention. 

You felt the hands that had rested on your hips slide to rest on the small of your back. He pulled you close slowly, winding his arms around you, clutching you close to his chest. He burred his nose in your hair and you did your best to remember the smells of the soaps and oils you had used before. A low, contented hum rumbled in his chest. You smiled and wrapped your arms around him in turn. 

“Perhaps I enjoy worse.” He whispered playfully. 

“I do not doubt that for a moment.” You teased. His embrace tightened around you slightly. It was with a rising heat you felt him swell against the press of your hips; which only proceeded to worsen the situation. 

Before the sensations could spiral into a dangerous feedback loop, Loki pulled back, keeping his hands firmly on your shoulders. You both took a moment to breathe before he began to laugh. It was an unsteady, uncertain sound that shook his shoulders with each breath. His grin was infectious.

“Do I amuse you, your highness?” You teased.

“You do more than that.” He huffed, a lingering hunger shimmering behind hooded eyes. Your teeth sunk hard into your lip. 

His eyes remained locked on you for a few excruciating seconds. You watched them flicker across your features as he toyed in his mind with what to do next. The sheer intensity of it made your stomach flutter. 

At last, with a deep, exasperated sigh Loki pulled back, turning away from you. You couldn’t help but be disappointed. 

He nearly collapsed back into his bed, pushing his hands through his hair before pressing his arm over his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” You chucked. He was frightfully dramatic. 

“Absolutely not.” He said, a playful smile teasing across his lips. He lifted his arm enough to watch you through one eye. “You were tempting enough when I could do no more than see you.” He growled. “Now that I’ve glimpsed something more than that, I fear I may go mad.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes. “What drama.”

 Loki raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. His lips pursed and he frowned, letting his arm fall over his eyes once more. “We cannot all be blessed with your restraint.” 

Though it was meant to sound teasing, he failed to hide the bitterness that lingered underneath. Feet moving of their own accord, you found yourself sitting beside him and staring down at his lounging form. 

When beside Thor he often looked thin, wiry by comparison. But here on his own, pale skin stark against the emerald sheets, he looked quite different. There was a strength in his forearms you had not quite noticed before. The lines of his form seemed sharper, his shoulders more broad. It was a strength that could remain tucked away- hidden beneath layers of armor. It was apt, you thought. He was a man who thrived pulling strings from the shadows. Easily underestimated, but not easily taken down. 

“If you think you don’t drive me mad you are quite mistaken.” You chided, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to coax his arm from his eyes. He watched carefully. 

“Am I?” 

“Yes.” You said forcefully. “I just…” 

It was difficult to find the right words. You wanted him, that you did not doubt. If you loved him or not was yet to be decided. Were your trip to end tomorrow you would think nothing of it. A tryst with a clever prince and his silver tongue. But the arrival of Jane Foster had added time to the clock, opening new windows that you had considered latched.

But for how long? 

You sighed, letting your hand slip to rest lightly on his chest, ignoring how he stiffened. “I don’t know that I am satisfied with just… stitchings of secondhand memories.” 

Loki propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with an unreadable expression. “And so you wish to make your own.” 

“Yes.” 

Unreadable became sad and he fell back to the sheets. His eyes fell closed once more, but his hand rested itself atop yours, holding it firm to his chest. “Were it my choice I would not hesitate.” 

“But it is not your choice.” 

“No.” 

“Then whose would it be?” 

“That,” he said with a beleaguered sigh “would be the Mighty Odin himself.” 

His tone was bitter, but you could not find it in your heart to blame him. 

“Has he locked you away in a tower?” You said playfully, letting your fingers stroke the fabric of his tunic gently. 

“Not a tower, no.” 

Your eyebrow raised high. “Then where?” 

Loki’s jaw clenched. 

“You promised to show me.” 

“I promised to tell you.” he corrected. 

“Then tell me.”  

Loki sat up, still clutching your hand to his chest. His face was now frightfully close to yours, and his gaze held yours captive. You felt the cool touch of his free hand against your cheek and you could not help but relax into it. He made a noise whose meaning you did not quite understand. 

“Give me another day.” He pleaded. 

“Why?” 

“Please just grant me this.” 

His voice made your heart ache- you were sure he could feel it. “Loki…” 

“Just one more day.” He insisted. “That is all, you have my word.” 

You could not find the words, but the hurt expression you refused to restrain spoke enough. The palm of his hand moved to your forehead gently, blocking your eyes from his. 

“ Loki …” You were more insistent this time. 

“I promise...” He whispered, his voice breaking under the strain. “I promise.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, you felt a sharp push from what was decidedly magic. At once, Loki and the room vanished, and you were left to slip into a dreamless sleep. 

Chapter Text

You were quickly tiring of being thrown so roughly from your sleep. 

It was incredibly unfair that any time he did not wish to answer your questions he could simply vanish or banish you to the waking world.

Bastard.  

You had half a mind to write some particularly unpleasant things in your notebook just for him. 

The thought of the notebook had given you pause. Undoubtedly, were you to search for him you would not be successful. He would not show himself to you unless he truly wished it, and you imagined he had no intention of facing your ire today. However, perhaps you could lure him. 

When you had failed to properly find the previous location on his map he had appeared quite quickly, no doubt unhappy with the possibility you might no longer engage with his game. Maybe that could work again. 

There was still one last unlabeled location. Was this to work, you had to do it correctly and convincingly. You knew that walking there and simply turning around would not do the trick, so something more would need to be done.

You briefly considered how willing you were to injure your ankle in some remote corner of the castle just so you could give him a piece of your mind. 

If you only knew where you were going you could prepare. The archives could hold answers, but it seemed like an incomplete plan. Were Loki to be there, he would undoubtedly hide from you and spy on what you were doing. He would know what you were up to before you even reached your destination. No, you would have to go in blind and hope for the best. Perhaps not knowing would work to your advantage. It would be much easier to act lost and confused when you truly were. 

Your plan was decided quickly. You would wash and ready yourself for the day, attend breakfast, and then head for your destination without your notebook. You would try and memorize the route, but you would not try too hard. What would be the fun in that? 

He’s rubbed off on me.  

It was difficult to decide if you were more proud or irritated by that. Irritated would suit you better for now. 

Thankfully, breakfast was quick and uneventful. Your mother still seemed lost in her worries, and you resolved that tomorrow would be spent helping her instead of tracking down the Prince of Lies. The only member of the royal family to appear was the Allmother, who was pleasant as always. You enjoyed watching her, seeing just how much of her was reflected in Loki. So many small mannerisms you had seen as distinctively his had clearly come from her. It was, in its own way, quite charming. 

You had been told once you could tell the caliber of a man by how he treated his mother. The sheer vastness of where they overlapped made it clear he doted on her. Your heart fluttered. 

Back in the quarters you bid your parents goodbye, telling them you were looking to do some research in the library. It was big enough you hoped they wouldn’t question it if they went looking for you and you were nowhere to be found. 

You moved through the hallways trying very hard to look both purposeful and casual. You quickly learned that was quite the difficult balance to strike. It was even harder when you began trying to remember what little you had memorized of your route. 

You had counted five total turns you needed to make and, much to your dismay, each subsequent one pulled you to a path filled with more and more people-most of them servants. You didn’t like that so many people would see where you were going, and you liked even less that they were mostly people who saw each other with such regularity that you stuck out like a sore thumb. Still, you weren’t about to give up now. 

As you rounded the last corner you were struck with dismay. Your path was blocked yet again- not by a wall this time, but by two very serious looking Einherjar. 

That bastard… 

Did he truly expect you to try and sneak past two trained soldiers? Or had you simply gotten very very lost? 

A maid with a cart brushed by you, headed for the guards. Without thinking you reached out. 

“Pardon me…” You called softly after her. The girlfroze, but did not turn to face you.

“Yes, miss?” Her voice was soft, timid. She seemed frightfully young. You worried you had unnerved her somehow. 

“Forgive me, but I believe I might be lost… can you tell me where that hall leads?” She turned her head slightly to see where you were pointing before mustering up the courage to turn all the way around. She kept her head very low and still, refusing to look you in the eye. Her black hair swept around her face like a protective curtain, and you suddenly felt quite bad for having asked her anything at all. 

“That leads to the royal quarters, Miss.” 

“The royal quarters?” 

The girl nodded. 

You clenched your jaw so tightly you swore you could hear your teeth crack. Of course this is where he would send you. Yet another place you were not supposed to be, blocked by something you had to work hard to pass. 

What’s more, the amount of fear the servant girl displayed unsettled you greatly. What lay down there that unsettled her so? 

“Thank you.” You said softly. “Forgive me but, are you alright?” 

She stiffened. “Yes, Miss. I am very well. You are kind to ask.” It was a very formulated response which only served to worry you all the more. 

“You’re sure.” 

“Quite sure.” She muttered. 

“Solvi?” You turned quickly to see another maid hurrying toward you both, her eyes clearly trained on the shaking girl. Solvi looked up abruptly, her hair still dangling loosely in front of her face, but revealing enough to show how frightfully pale she was. 

“Heavens Solvi, what are you doing?” The woman tutted. “Where is your ribbon, your hair is a mess.” She was clearly much older than Solvi, and judging by the swinging collection of keys at her hip, much higher in rank. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to impede her.” You said quickly, hoping to stave off any reprimanding she might have otherwise earned. 

The woman turned about and gave you a soft smile. In contrast to Solvi, her face was sweet and round; her skin warm and dark, and her eyes remarkably stern, but kind. 

“No, I’m sorry if she gave you any trouble.” Her tone was somewhat sad. 

“None at all.” You assured her. “I was quite lost and she has kindly helped me get my bearings.” 

That received a somewhat surprised look from the woman, that quickly flickered to excitement and relief. “How wonderful to hear! On the rare occasion we have her in our care, little Solvi rarely speaks, but she is smart as a whip.” 

That earned a proud grin from Solvi, who at last pushed the hair from her eyes. Had you not looked another moment more you would have thought they had no color at all. Instead they were a pale grey that seemed to reflect whatever colors were nearest.

“And yet.” The woman grumbled. “We refuse to keep our hair from our face.” 

Solvi looked to you as if you would save her from such a horrid fate. You couldn’t help but grin. The woman took the opportunity to begin combing through her hair with her fingers, carefully braiding her hair back. As another maid swept by she called out. 

“Eydis, tell me you have a spare ribbon?” 

“I do.” Chimed a sweet, smooth voice. The back of your neck prickled. 

A hand appeared just over your shoulder and offered a green ribbon to the woman, who took it graciously. Solvi stuck out her tongue. 

“Don't be such a child, Solvi.” Scolded the voice behind you. “Poor Turid has other things to do with her time than braid your hair.” 

You turned slowly, already well aware of what you would find- and as you expected, you met a pair of brilliant blue eyes, flickering with delight and mischief. You were tempted to curse her out right there and then. Instead, she stepped quickly around you and took over for Turid. 

“Bless you, Eydis.” She laughed. 

“Don’t thank me quite yet.” Loki said, suddenly focusing quite intently on braiding the young girl's hair. You wondered if she was focusing on retaining some sort of physical form, or if perhaps she was just terrible at braiding.  Perhaps both. 

Turid simply laughed and left her to it, and you alone with the other two. Loki didn’t take her eyes off you, her grin spreading across her face. She leaned down  to Solvi’s height without looking away.

“Well done Solvi.” Loki praised. “I knew you wouldn't let her get away.” 

The young girl grinned smugly. You had been played. 

“ You are ridiculous.” You snapped at Loki. She merely laughed. 

“Come now, you can’t be too angry. I can’t be everywhere at once, so I simply asked the young lady to keep an eye out for you on my behalf.” 

Loki gave up on the braid and, after looking quickly to ensure no one had their attention on you, she let her magic do the job for her. Solvi’s hair twisted itself into intricate braids that piled neatly on her head and out of her way. The ribbon wrapped itself across the top of her head before tucking into the braids.  Solvi seemed only slightly less irritated. 

Loki stepped back to admire her “handiwork”. 

“You look lovely.” She said, quite pleased. Solvi just turned and frowned. Loki immediately looked disappointed. 

“Oh fine.” She huffed. With another flick of her wrist Loki pulled a small notebook, from the air and held it just out of the girls reach. “You never appreciate when I do your hair.” Loki seemed genuinely upset, and you stifled a smile.  Solvi reached her hand towards the ribbon as if to tear it out, but Loki quickly stopped her. “Fine! Fine, here.” He handed the notebook to her and she clutched it tightly to her chest, and fled, abandoning the cart she had been pushing before. 

“What in all the nine realms are you doing .” You said, the moment the girl was out of earshot.  

“Quite a few things, actually.” Loki said playfully, her eyes betraying how truly thrilled she was to have riled you. “Could you be more specific?” 

“Did you bribe a child to spy on me?” 

“Yes,” she said plainly, “But please don't be mistaken, I have her spy on nearly everyone.” 

“She’s a child .” You scolded. 

“She is.” Loki said, a frown slipping across her lips. “A child to whom no one pays attention. Remarkably bright with no one to foster her talents.” Was she defensive? Or perhaps protective of Solvi? You furrowed your brow. 

“So,” She continued, “I give her bits of my knowledge of magic, and she brings me stories. More than a fair trade I would say.” 

You had no idea where to even start with that, but Loki pressed on, clearly not looking for your feedback on the situation. 

“She’s a talented sorceress, you know. She’ll be far better than me one day, I can assure you that.” Loki laughed bitterly. “I would much prefer she learn from someone versed in it than teach herself, and I’ll be damned if she never learns at all.” 

Something about the way she stood made it quite clear this wasn’t just about Solvi getting the recognition she deserved. You knew Loki would never admit to it. 

“Besides.” She said with a shrug. “It’s much better to have her on my side than anyone else’s. 

You rolled your eyes. “Ahh, so she’s a tool, is she?” 

“No.” Her voice snapped with an anger you had not heard from her before, and you found yourself falling quite still. Her jaw flexed, and after an indignant moment she pushed her shoulders back and smoothed her features. 

“So.” She began, “ I fear this will be disappointing on two counts. Particularly after last night.” A glimmer of mischief returned to her eyes. 

Last night. 

You still had more than a few things to say about that, but curiosity quickly won out over your anger. 

“Your rooms.” You said. Loki nodded. 

You had assumed as much when Solvi had indicated the hall lead to the royal quarters-and while you had no intention of admitting it, there had been a flicker of something else amidst your irritation. 

Hope. 

For a brief moment you had hoped that this was why he had asked for one more day. You had hoped that had simply pushed aside your fears because he knew that, eventually. 

“You’re not here.” The grim tone in your voice betrayed you. 

Loki’s eyes softened, colored with the hurt reflected in your own. 

“That truly distressed you… doesn’t it…” she said, as if it had really only just dawned on her. 

You scoffed. “Forgive me your majesty, I didn’t realize I had been so unclear.” 

Loki flinched at the honorific. You had meant it to hurt- it placed a level of separation between you that neither of you cared for. 

“Forgive me.” She said softly. She stepped closer, reminding you just how much taller than you she was. “I truly promise you I only need today. And, if you’ll permit me, I was hoping we could endure that time together.” 

It was with great frustration that you felt your heart flutter the closer she became. The crystal blue of her eyes  was only made more enchanting by longer eyelashes and softer features. Her lips were fuller, leaving her sorrows regrettably more pronounced. Tendrils of wavy black hair that had broken free from her braids snaked along her neck. You considered how soft it might feel to let your fingers follow them. 

Damnit. 

You bit down hard on your lip, and for a moment she seemed to brace herself for your anger. You shook your head lightly. 

“You are far too pretty this way.” You huffed, trying hard to push down the red in your cheeks. “It makes it far too difficult to stay angry with you.” 

Loki looked taken aback for a moment before a full bodied laugh rang out against the stone. She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle it, but her shoulders continued to shake. Your cheeks burned and you turned away. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She stammered through ear laughter. “You merely surprised me.” 

“You cannot find it that surprising after… everything.” You said, tossing your hand into the air. 

“Do you really find me so enticing?” She purred.  You opened your mouth to find words, but pressed it closed again in frustration. Loki already looked far too pleased with herself, you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction if you could help it. She grinned at you wickedly all the same.

“Are you going to show me where we’re going, or am I to find it myself?” You asked, quickly changing the subject. With a sigh, she offered her hand to you. You let your fingers rest gently on the smooth and glassy surface of the projection. 

Loki could see your disappointment plainly; and though her grin never cracked, her eyes betrayed a distress you wished you could soothe. You could barely soothe yourself. 

“You'll have to play along.” She said, keeping her voice low. “My dear brother has been a bit paranoid since his pet arrived, so there are more guards than usual.” She took your hand and rested it on the cart Solvi had so readily left behind. “Fortunately,” she continued, “we have a convenient pretense at hand.” 

“You can’t possibly think they would let me pass.” You said with a frown. “They likely know I’m not a maid.” 

“True, but Solvi is.” A wicked grin played at her lips. “Fortunately for you, you’re with a powerful sorcerer who can ensure that's exactly who they think you are. You won't even have to say a word.” 

“You are far too prepared for this.” You remarked, both impressed and unsettled. 

Loki laughed. “I have spent too many years in these halls not to be.” 

Quickly she tucked a few errant strands of hair into their proper place and straightened her skirts. “Just keep your head down and follow me.” 

Despite how determined you had been to give her a piece of your mind not but a few minutes before, you couldn’t help but get swept up by her mischief. You knew you were doing something that was likely reckless, but with her at your side you felt uncharacteristically safe. When had you started trusting Loki ?

Perhaps you didn’t. Perhaps you just started to want to trust her. Your time together had been more than enjoyable and you wanted more. You wanted to be near her, to indulge her however she asked- and in whatever form she asked it in- because if you were really and truly honest? 

It was fun.

Chapter Text

Just as Loki had promised, you strode past the guards without them giving you a second glance. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but revel in the thrill. A nagging voice in the back of your mind was keen to remind you that what you were doing was not particularly adventurous. You were helping someone sneak into their own room. Still, you shoved it down-you would be damned if it would ruin your fun. 

The two of you walked in silence for a bit until the guards and other servants seemed out of earshot. It was surprisingly comfortable. She kept in time beside you, her hands clasped behind her back as they so often were, and her stride as quick and confident as ever. The familiarity of it allowed you to wash many of your concerns from your mind- at least for now. 

With a tilt of her head Loki caught your eye. You couldn’t help the excited grin that crept across your face, and she reflected it in kind. 

“I must warn you.” She said, still keeping her voice low. “It has not been occupied for quite a while, so it won’t be nearly as impressive as last night.” 

“For a number of reasons.” You said casually. You took great pleasure in watching her eyebrow raise slowly. She had spent so much time keeping you off kilter- it was well past time you did the same. 

“I would be quite willing to fix that tonight.” She teased. 

“ After you’ve done as you promised.” 

“Yes, yes.” She sighed. With a quick glance she checked to see if there was anyone behind you and, seemingly satisfied, turned down a side hallway. 

It was not as well lit as everywhere else, and it seemed someone had given up on sweeping it long ago. Your skirts kicked up small bits of dust from the floor, and Loki seemed decidedly upset by it. You watched her pull at her long fingers, eyes staring off into the distance. 

You passed a few doors, but it didn’t take long for you to catch sight of the massive one looming at the end of the hallway. Large wooden panels were held together with intricate ironwork that twisted and wove itself into the image of the world tree itself. It was hard to imagine such a thing would be crafted for anyone other than a prince. 

“Is that it?” You asked.

“Hmm?” Loki snapped from her trance to glance up at the door. “Oh, yes.” She shook her head as if to rattle herself back to reality. “Yes it is.” She repeated with renewed vigor. 

You let go of the cart- which you had started to feel silly for still pushing- as you got close. The more intricate details revealed themselves slowly, and it seemed as full of secrets as an illuminated manuscript. You could feel her eyes on you, watching you admire it with a level of amusement. 

“If you’re that impressed with the door, maybe you won't be so disappointed after all.” She teased. 

“I don’t think there was too much risk of me being disappointed by the room.” You admitted. You watched Loki’s eyes as she contemplated the comment perhaps a bit too deeply. “Are you going to let me in?” You asked pointedly. 

Though she rolled her eyes, the smile returned to her face. With a flick of her wrist the doors swung wide. Delight played in her eyes as she extended her hand to you once more. 

“Shall we?”

You took it without hesitation, and she lead you across the threshold. 

Much of the room was already familiar; the bed, the fireplace, the chairs and bookcases were all exactly how you had seen them the night before-just covered with a fine layer of dust. Someone had clearly cleaned the place up before it was abandoned, but it quite evidently had not been entered since. The curtains had long been closed, and the sunlight came softly across the space. Small things you assumed he had forgotten stood out- well worn patterns in the intricate rugs, ink stains someone had tried quite hard to remove from the wood of a desk, marks in the walls you were sure had been made by someone hoping to master throwing knives. 

It was a strange time capsule of someone you realized you barely knew. 

A thousand questions ran across your mind as you tried to picture a young Loki inhabiting the space. Playing alongside Thor, reading and studying, practicing the magic Frigga had taught. You closed your eyes, letting the now familiar smell fill your senses. Despite the efforts of both dust and time-it still smelled of her. 

So why did you ache? 

“What do you think?” 

Loki’s voice grounded you once more, pulling you back to the doorway in which she still stood. 

“It’s more lovely than you remember.” You teased. “Makes me wonder what else you’ve forgotten.”

She laughed warmly. “A lot has happened in the two years since I left. I imagine I’ve forgotten quite a bit.” She crossed the floor to you, drifting gently across the space. Her normal commanding walk had become graceful- the tension that often was regarded as power had melted away. As sad as the room felt, you could tell it was of great comfort to her in ways nothing else was. 

“So, it seems, has everyone else.” She said sadly. The ache pulled at your chest once more. You offered her your hand, but she shook her head with a smile. 

“Forgive me, I’m just… tired.” It was an excuse, but you had no intent to pry. 

“You’ve expended quite a lot of energy on me as of late.” 

“It was not planned, I assure you.” she laughed. Her smile soothed you just a bit. You wanted more. 

“I’m sure you’ve had quite the time with how I've kept you on your toes.” you said with mock concern. 

“ You’ve kept me on my toes, have you?” She snapped, her unrestrained smile casting a glow across her face. 

“Clearly, since you seem to find me so enticing.” You raised your chin proudly, enjoying the shiver that ran down your spine as a familiar hunger flashed across her eyes. 

Loki struggled for words for a moment, before hooking an elegant finger under your chin-lifting it just a bit higher. “You’re very confident now.” She hummed. “We will see how well you can maintain that later.” 

You could no longer tell if the burning in your cheeks came from smiling, or from her. You didn’t much care either- they had become one fluttering sensation in your chest that bubbled over into laughter. 

“You dare mock a Princess of Asgard?” She said, feigning outrage through her own laughter. “You will have to be punished. ” 

It was the most delicious threat you had ever heard. 

“I await it eagerly, my princess.” 

Loki bit hard into her lip, forcing down a hunger she knew there was little chance of abating. At least for now. She drew a long, ragged breath before pulling herself together once more. 

“Come, I’ve something I want to give you.” 

She moved to the far wall, where a wardrobe stood, tucked amongst the shelves. She pulled it open revealing a number of undoubtedly fine clothes-many boasting some shade of green. With a soft wave of her hand, the items that hung before her slid aside, vanishing against the wood. In their place appeared yet more. She parsed through set after set until at last she seemed to find what she was looking for. 

“Now, I’m sure it will need some adjustments seeing as I am quite a bit taller than you are- but it should suit you.” 

Loki turned to you, a dress draped carefully across her arm. It was a deep emerald green, dark enough that in the right light it could be mistaken for black. The cut was simple, more so than you would have expected, but the ornamentation more than made up for it. The collar and hem were embellished with gold. The sleeves hung loose with a cut that ran from shoulder to wrist, occasionally kept together by a pearl clasp. 

You stepped forward to run your hand along the fabric. It was remarkably smooth, a blend of silk clearly made to help one stave off the chills of winter without rendering the heat of summer intolerable. 

“Loki you can’t…” You protested.

“Why can’t I?” 

“It’s yours… and far too lovely I can't accept this.” 

She chuckled softly “I would argue you’re far too lovely to leave it behind.” 

You went a deep red, cursing how easily she regained the upper hand. 

“Besides,” she continued “I don’t imagine they would be of use anytime soon unless you were to wear them.” 

“Won’t your family be alarmed if I show up in your gown?” 

“My mother would notice, perhaps, but I doubt she would be alarmed let alone surprised. As for Thor and the Allfather, you could show them a portrait of me in it and they would swear they had seen neither before.” The thought seemed to amuse her. “At least try it on before you refuse it.” She insisted. 

With a bit more pestering she hurried you into her bathroom, closing the door behind you. You stood for a moment with the gown in your hands before glancing around the room. It was unreasonably large and unquestionably lavish. The tub was as large as yours, but adorned with gold and carved with a web of knots and symbols. A tall mirror hung against a far wall, flanked by several dress forms on either side. You imagine they each once sported one of the many outfits that now hung tucked away in the wardrobe. 

You approached the mirror slowly, studying yourself in it. You weren’t sure something like this could suit you. Your own clothes were by no means simple, but you had always been a bit more practical by choice. Sleeves like this would undoubtedly be pulled through ink as you wrote, or catch on the corners of things as you passed. It was something made for events where you didn’t have to worry about such things. 

You slipped from your dress, folding it carefully and setting atop a chaise lounge that stood between this dressing corner and the tub. Loki was correct, it would be far too long for you, but all the same you meticulously undid the clasps that ran along the spine. 

The collar fit snugly around your neck, and the fabric hung soft across your frame. You slipped your hands through the wrists, letting the slit in the arm settle in dips and waves-showing a few hints of skin. The skirt itself had more give than you had expected. You twirled slowly, allowing it to bloom and fold around you. 

You easily pictured Loki in it- her black hair woven beautifully about her face, the gold and black standing sharply against her skin. You had no doubt that every step she took would only be made more elegant by the sweeping fabric and the gold embroidery glittering at her heels. 

At the moment, you looked a bit like a child who had tried to put on her mother’s dress; but it was nothing a seamstress couldn’t fix. You re-clasped the back of the gown as high as you could on your own, and considered if you would ask her to finish the rest. The thought sent a wave shivering across your skin. 

Mustering your courage you made your way back to the door, and pushed it open slowly. Loki had already reinvested herself in the wardrobe, a few more gowns piled haphazardly on the floor. You sincerely hoped she wasn’t going to make you try all of them on. 

You cleared your throat softly, and her head snapped around to look at you. Her eyes lit up instantly, lips parting slowly before being pulled into a wide grin. 

“It looks perfect.” She breathed. 

You felt your breath catch ever so slightly at the affection that seemed to shift across her expression. “It’s… more than lovely.” You laughed. “I don’t quite know how to thank you.” 

She raised her eyebrows somewhat sarcastically. “I’m sure we could come up with an arrangement.” 

You groaned, which only seemed to delight her all the more. 

“Promise me you’ll take it.” She said, taking your hands. Standing here in her room, in her gown, even the nondescript touch of an illusion made your skin warm. 

“I have a feeling it would find its way to my closets even if I refuse.”

Loki nodded. “Gowns are notorious for wandering off.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Is that what those were up to?” 

She glanced back at the dresses on the floor. “You know, I would imagine so.” Her eyes glittered playfully. “But I suppose we will have to wait and see.” 

“Hopefully not too many or you would be forced to go nude.” 

“Yes.” She cooed. “How terribly disappointing that would be.” 

She pressed a bit closer, one hand falling to your waist. You felt the familiar prickle of her magic, and the cloth seemed to shift around you. “There.” She whispered, frightfully close to your ear. “That length should be better. Try it for me?” She took a step back and you did as you were told. Her work was unsurprisingly impeccable. 

“You know,” you mused “If you keep using your magic so freely like that you’ll wear yourself out completely.” 

“I assure you, I would be worn thin no matter what I did.” She leaned back against the post of her bed, watching you carefully. “I much prefer expending my energy on something I deem worthwhile.” 

“Do you not need your magic to meet me tonight?” 

“I…” She frowned abruptly. “Perhaps you’re right.” 

You bit back a smile. “Naturally.” 

Loki shot you a look, but you were simply amused. 

You spent a number of hours there together, sifting through the memories of her past. They were good and bad in equal measure, but the lingering sense of isolation spanned them all.

They were a stark contrast to your own. The home you had grown up in was comparatively small, and warm of heart. You had grown up on the lawns of the great libraries and universities of Asgard; free to wander as you pleased and surrounded by the children of your parent’s colleagues wherever you went. You traveled often, but home was never far and never anything but your own. 

The colors faded from the sky far sooner than you had expected, and you reluctantly admitted you both would be expected at dinner. Loki insisted you keep the dress on, and promised to tell the Allmother she had given it to you so as to avoid any uncomfortable questions. You suspected that, given your prior conversation with her, it was unlikely that would be the case. 

Still, it was not as if this would reveal the things you had kept from her. Quite the opposite in fact. You sincerely hoped she would take no interest in it at all. 

The two of you snuck quietly from the room, both suddenly quite proud of yourselves. Each guard or servant you passed who didn’t give you a passing glance sent you into fits of laughter. Loki had never smiled so much before. You liked her this way. Happy. 

When at long last you were at your rooms, your goodbyes were uncharacteristically awkward and drawn out. There was nothing of her to touch as you wished to; no kiss she could feel or brush for her to remember. It left you more frustrated than ever. 

“Before I go.” Loki said. “I did promise you something.”

You eyed her suspiciously. “I thought you said you needed until tonight.” 

“I do; but it's not that.” 

She extended her hand, and you watched as a shimmer of green rose from her palm, giving form to a small sphere no larger than a few inches in diameter. It was a distinct, icy blue- and when at last it fell into her hand, she passed it to you. 

“I promised you a map of the palace, and while I am not always one to keep their word, I felt it important to hold myself to this.” She tapped the top of the orb lightly, and over its surface shimmered an image, mapping out the hall in which you stood, and the area around it.

“The palace is far too big to fit on any one sheet of paper, so this provided a more elegant solution. It will show you where you are, and if you ask it, it will show you how to get to where you want to be.” She seemed quite impressed with herself. “Try it.” 

“Do I have to prompt it with anything specific?” You asked, but Loki only shook her head. You thought for a moment before requesting it show you to the dining hall.

A glowing line began to trace its way down the hall, seemingly waiting for you to follow. You smiled brightly up at Loki. 

“It’s absolutely perfect.” You said warmly. 

“I’m very pleased you like it.” The affection returned to her eyes. 

“You’ve given me far too many things today, you know.”

“Absolutely not.” she huffed. “It doesn’t even compare to what you’ve given me.”

“Loki, I've given you nothing.” 

“Nothing physical, perhaps, but I have far too many physical things. Your companionship alone has given me far more than I could have anticipated. I feel I owe you a great deal.” Her eyes seemed sad, and suddenly uncertain. “I suppose that’s why I’ve struggled so greatly with what you’ve asked for.” You watched the muscles of her jaw clench and unclench. 

“Because you feel you owe me something?” You asked, deeply confused.

“No.” She shook her head firmly. “Because your companionship means… what it does to me. I fear…” You felt your heart tighten as she searched for the right words. 

“I fear it might frighten you away.” 

Chapter Text

Your eyes did not leave Loki once for the duration of that night’s feast. 

He had returned to the form that others were more accustomed to, and did his best to seem unphased, engaging more readily with conversation than usual. It irritated you to no end. 

How he could say what he did and then simply vanish without another word was beyond you. The way he avoided looking your way made it quite clear he knew you were furious. He had dragged this out for far too long, and you were beginning to lose your patience- particularly now that this had become more than just a game. 

The physical distance was becoming painful. To see him so close only made his physical absence more upsetting, and knowing he was so reluctant to tell you why that distance had to remain felt like a slight. 

You had been shown a Loki who seemed to care for you; who seemed to crave being seen for who he was- but you had also seen a Loki who took great care to keep you at arms length. He couldn’t have it both ways.

After the first course was finished you couldn’t stand it anymore and dismissed yourself from the table. You made a half hearted excuse about feeling unwell- which you did- and made your way back to your quarters. Now that everyone was dining, the halls were empty. It felt like you could finally breathe. The moonlight shimmered across the floors, and you slipped your shoes off so that the silence could remain undisturbed. You were so much more exhausted from the day than you had realized, and your limbs quickly began to feel ledden. You would likely fall asleep quickly. 

Your mind refused to quiet, however. It spun scenario after scenario, none of which were particularly pleasant.

“I fear it might frighten you away.”  

Being kept apart was discouraging, yes, but frightening? What could stand between you that was so severe that he believed you would flee? You were raised by a warrior and a scholar, it would not be so easy to shake you. 

Or did he simply not trust you? 

You had given him no reason to think he could not, but he seemed the sort that allowed the past to bind him. A thousand moments you would never know could have fostered a natural suspicion of others. 

Perhaps being the god of lies just made it easier to see how few people you could trust. 

Your shoulders softened. You didn’t want to be angry at him. Could he not see how you had started to care for him? 

Of course not.  

You had only just realized it yourself. 

With a sigh you shifted your weight to lean against a nearby pillar. You no longer wished to be alone in your room, waiting for sleep to claim you-but you had no interest in returning to the dining hall either. You were stuck here in this strange liminal space. 

Or you were, until a familiar energy prickled against your neck. 

“Can you not just announce yourself when you appear? Must you hover in the shadows?” You snapped. 

“Forgive me.” Loki said softly. “I’ve perhaps taken too much joy in seeing how quickly you can sense my presence.” He gave you a light smile when you finally glanced his way. “You are remarkably perceptive, you know.” 

“You cannot flatter your way out of this.” 

“If I am only permitted to flatter you when you are not upset with me, they may come few and far between.” He said with an unexpected severity. “I fear it would feel dishonest were I to keep those thoughts from you.” 

You bristled. 

Silvertongue. 

The following silence seemed to unsettle him quickly. He remained as still as possible, trying to retain the illusion of confidence. “Oh come now,” he said, trying to force a playful tone into his voice. “That was at least a little charming, you must admit.” You glared at him, and the small smile that had formed immediately vanished. 

“Forgive me… there are a great many whose anger I can endure without a second thought. That cannot be said for yours.” 

You sighed deeply. “Then why must you play this game with me?” 

“I’m afraid I don't know what you mean.” He replied, eyebrow raising. You scoffed, pushing yourself from the pillar. You approached him slowly, not letting the anger slip from your eyes. He would not talk his way out of this. Loki went stiff as you approached, lifting his chin just enough to project some illusion of confidence. 

“You know very well what I mean.” Frustration began to boil over inside you. “If you do not want me to remain, simply say so. Don’t string me along with promises and secrets. You taunt me with the notion that I am more than a temporary fascination to you, and yet your actions seem to prove otherwise.” 

“ My actions? And which actions are those? Perhaps you mean the nights I have spent with you? The energy I have expended splitting my projections so that I might see you? Or would you mean the time I spent sharing the hidden corners of the palace with you?” His voice was bitter, the hurt that lingered beneath bleeding through. “How dare you say I have not been more than clear in my actions.” 

The sting of embarrassment washed through you. “And yet you keep your distance from me! You go about claiming there is some insurmountable barrier between us, yet it is too much to ask what it is?” You snapped.

“I asked for one day from you, nothing more. So that I might be prepared for what may come- I spent that day with you - but you cannot hold your temper for a few hours!” You had not seen him this angry since the night you had asked after his hidden spot in the garden. 

“I should not have had to wait at all! Do not pretend you’re doing me any favors by only postponing your answer a day.” 

With each word Loki grew increasingly still- to the point where you weren’t sure he was still breathing. It set off every alarm in your mind, and your extremities ached with the urge to turn and run. 

His jaw cracked as he held your gaze, unblinking. The air seemed to drain from the hall as his eyes turned your blood to ice. 

“My lady,” he said curtly, “I have done all I can to abide by your wishes. To play within the rules you set and atone for my mistakes. I had hoped that you might afford me that same grace in your eyes, but it seems I was very much mistaken.” He had become distant and formal. Stone by stone he began to seal himself within his walls, and you knew there would be no words capable of reversing it. 

“What do you ask of me then, to wait forever? To be content with only dreams?” Your eyes had started to burn, and your voice to shake. 

“I have not hidden for a moment that secondhand memories were all I had to provide. Or have you forgotten?” 

“Far from it.” You growled, “I am reminded every time I see you in the daylight- every time I reach out and am reminded there is nothing there to touch!” You could no longer hold back the tears, feeling them sting as they ran down your face. Your voice trembled and you felt it begin to rise. 

“Do you think I don’t suffer the same?” Loki’s voice rose to match yours. “Do you not think I would do anything in my power to change it?” His fists clenched tightly. “I wait through what seem to be increasingly long days in the hope that, for a few hours, I might share your company. I barely hoped I might earn your trust after I had so poisoned your early impressions of me, let alone your…” 

You froze, eyes darting across his features unable to convince yourself of what words had been lost to the silence. The anger in his eyes faded to defeat. His muscles seemed to unbind at last, and his hand pushed roughly through his hair. 

“If I have misunderstood you… misunderstood your opinions of me or your intentions; I beg of you, tell me now.” His voice had softened considerably, and a familiar ache took hold of your chest. “Understand that secondhand memories are all I have to give; and all I have to live by.” 

“ Why ?” 

You wanted to reach out and touch him. You wanted to soothe his fears and pain, to ensure he knew you did not mean him harm. 

All of Loki’s exhaustion seemed to consume him at once. His eyes lost their light, and the lines on his face grew deeper. His gaze was no longer focused, and his toneless answer seemed to fall from his lips. 

“When my brother dragged me back from Midgard, the Allfather desired nothing more than to see me dead. My mother, however, urged him to spare my life.” Loki sounded almost disappointed by it. “The Allfather decided that, instead, I would be tucked away out of sight. Kept somewhere I could rot out of Asgard’s sight, deprived of my magic and my freedoms.” He took a steadying breath. “But, yet again, my mother came to my rescue- convincing the allfather I be allowed just enough freedom to enjoy the illusion that I might move about the palace. To add insult to injury I was placed in charge of my brother’s little pet project, but I realize that without it…” His eyes finally met yours, their vibrant blue now almost an ashen grey.

“Where has he kept you?” You asked, pleadingly. 

“Does it matter? Even if I were to tell you, and you were to find me, I could provide you no more than I can here and now. Finding me would put you in danger- and were you to appear before me, the very knowledge that you were so close and yet completely out of my reach would be excruciating .” His hand lifted and he brushed his long fingers against your face. You leaned into what little you could feel of his featureless touch. “Even more so than it already is.” 

“And is there no hope? No chance the Allfather might change his mind?” 

“On his own, no. No doubt he does his best to forget me as soon as I leave his sight; but my mother could convince him, I’m sure. It’s also possible that when my idiot brother takes the throne he might show me some kindness for having played my part in establishing relations with Midgard. Either way, it would take centuries for it to even be considered .” He leaned to rest his forehead on yours. You tried to replace the absence of feeling with what memories you had of his touch. “You cannot wait centuries.” He said, voice barely a whisper. 

“That is not your choice to make.” 

“No. Perhaps not, but still I can not allow it. It would be foolish to waste your days trapped here in the hopes that something will change.”

“So I am to leave you here alone?”  

“Yes.” His voice was firm. “You are.” 

“No, Loki I won't…” He cut you off abruptly

“You need to hear me. I do not doubt for an instant I will die where I now stand, if only to satisfy the stubbornness and pride of the Allfather. You, however, need not suffer that fate. There are others who can give you a real life- real love. Not just dreams and illusions.” 

Loki pulled away, his hand passing through yours like smoke. 

He was resolute. You could see in his eyes that he had made up his mind, and not even the Norns themselves could change it. 

Not now, at least. 

Pressing your eyes tight you nodded. You would not cry, and you would not hold out hope- but you would not simply walk away either. 

“When the time comes, if I must go, I will go. But today isn’t our last. I am still here, and will be until things have been sorted with the mortal.” You opened your eyes so that you might find his. “Until then, can we not go on as if there is no deadline awaiting us?” 

“That would only make the inevitable burn all the more.” He replied, shaking his head. 

“Then let it! Loki, it will burn if we spend our time together, or if we let it pull us apart. So what reason is there not to choose the one thing that might hold a little joy?” 

He floundered for a few moments. You could see the gears in his mind twist and turn to convince himself he could convince you he wasn’t worth it- but you knew you would not budge. 

“I can offer you nothing.” He insisted, his voice beginning to ache. 

“I am asking for nothing.” You replied. 

“You cannot truly want that.” 

“Find me tonight and I will prove to you I do.” 

Loki froze just a bit, and you felt your cheeks begin to burn. How was it that you became so bold so quickly around him? How did your mind so quickly forget he was a Prince? Someone who could expel you from the palace with a word.

But you were standing there in his dress, with his colors against your skin. He had shared himself with you in the daytime and in your dreams. He had shared with you the corners and memories he prized most- even provided you with a map that was, in its own right, the very keys to the palace. 

He had made it all too easy for you to be bold. 

“You’ll have to wait for me to return to my room, of course.” You said lightly. 

“A shame.” He said. “It would be much more interesting for you to prove it right here.” 

Your face heated once more, but you could not help but return the smile he had let hint at the corner of his eyes. It was small, but it flooded you with relief.

“Perhaps that’s where you can find me tonight.” You said coyly. 

At last he gave way to a full faced grin. Abruptly he grabbed your arm, and pulled you to him. Though there was little to feel, the strength of his embrace held you steady. The pressure that let you know he was there with you was enough for now. It would have to be. 

“Then we best get you back to your quarters.” he whispered. You nodded. 

“Might I hope you will accompany me back?” 

“I will not leave your side.” He promised. 

The path that had seemed painfully long just moments before seemed to fade entirely with him by your side. Neither of you said a word, and you did not reach out to touch. Instead you settled into a comfortable silence, your footsteps beginning to match in stride. He felt as if he had always been right there, every moment of your life. 

In its own way, it was frightening. 

You stood beside someone who you were told was unfathomably dangerous. A man corrupted and cruel. You had found him, instead, to be insufferable and childish, and he had plagued your every dream. He had flustered and confused you, comforted and confided in you. He had held you, and touched you.

 In less than a week Loki had become as familiar as your own shadow- present as your own reflection- and yet fate had formulated an end; one he intended to adhere to. 

What would it feel like when he was gone? You had felt heartbreak before, but they had never truly gone from your life. They were people you could still see in the markets and the streets. They didn’t exist only in memory, locked away where your eyes would never find them again. How much would be lost when you lost him? 

You weren’t sure you cared. 

Several times along your walk he caught you staring. It never unsettled him, only seemed to lift his head a bit higher as he basked in your attention- smug as ever. 

“Was that really all that you wanted?” He asked at last. 

“Hmm?” 

“To know where I was. Why I couldn’t be here with you.”

“Yes.” you laughed. “Is that so hard to believe?” 

It was not meant to stump him, but it did. 

“Even though it changes nothing?” 

“It changes everything.” you corrected. 

“How?” 

“I know where we stand now.” You said with a shrug. “I know what is in our way, what you fear.” He opened his mouth to protest but you carried on. “I know now that you aren’t just avoiding me for the sake of it, and now I know there is hope.” 

“Hope for what, exactly?” He asked dryly. 

“That one day you may let me find you.” 

Loki stopped abruptly, and you turned to face him. He looked grave. 

“Let me be clear. I will not tell you where I am. Not ever. If I do, you will come looking for me. If you come looking for me, you will be put in danger, and I will not have you put in danger, do you understand?” It was not a question but a command. You frowned. 

“Fine.” 

His shoulders relaxed, and he resumed his pace alongside you. 

Not a few minutes more and you found yourself at the doors of your quarters. Loki gave you a polite smile, clasping his hands behind his back. You couldn’t help but laugh at how uncomfortable he still managed to be. 

“I will see you soon.” You promised. 

“I look forward to it.” He said with a wicked grin. 

You rolled your eyes and opened the door, turning back for one last glance as he vanished from your sight in a shimmer of green. 

Chapter Text

The hall seemed to stretch on forever.

How long had you been walking? 

The heel of your shoe clicked sharply against the floor, it’s steady rhythm echoing back to you. The only reminder you were not a ghost. 

There were voices echoing somewhere far beyond your line of sight. You had seen people since you had started walking, hadn’t you? A knot began to form in your chest. 

Think . Think clearly, who have you seen? 

You couldn’t remember a single face- not from within this hall, and not from beyond it. Your pace quickened. Where were you? Where were you going? 

Your hand was in your pocket before you knew why; but the leather binding reminded you. 

A map. You had been given a map… maybe if you could find some landmark, any landmak, you might be able to find your way to somewhere safe. 

Safe? 

Were you not safe here?

Your fingers scrambled across the pages, flipping through pages and pages of notes. Where was the map? Where had it gone? 

Your fingers began to leave splotches of black where you touched. It seeped into the paper, spreading uncontrollably in every direction. You dropped it as if it had bitten you, staggering back to press yourself against the wall as the ink consumed the journal and began to devour the stones of the floor. 

The earth beneath your feet shifted, beginning to erode like sand. You opened your mouth to scream, but no sound came. You desperately grasped at the smooth walls, praying for any sort of purchase you could cling to. 

The pit that opened below you seemed endless, pulling down pillars and cauldrons of flame, sending them cascading silently into the darkness. 

The knot in your chest had swelled to a storm. It twisted and turned, rising in your throat until you felt you would choke. Tears began to well in your eyes until you felt you were going to burst, and then suddenly, something seemed to burst. 

The air felt like it was torn from your lungs, and a blinding blue light forced your eyes shut. Slowly your vision adjusted and a palm sized blue sphere hovered in the air in front of you. 

The map.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand was reaching out. You leaned forward even as your feet teetered on the edge of the endless depths below. If you could just manage to reach it, you would be safe, wouldn’t you? It was a lifeline- if you could just get your fingers around it…

Your breath was sucked from your lungs once more as you felt your food slip, and gravity take hold of your weight. 

No… no… 

The orb slipped through your grasp. A single face returned to your mind. 

Loki

Suddenly the world stopped shifting. You felt a hand grab yours, propelling you forward. Arms wrapped around you tightly, a hand pressing your head tight against their chest. A shifting kaleidoscope of black hair and green leather washed across your vision as you felt yourself tucked safely into their embrace. Your knees struck hard against the now solid ground and you collapsed into the familiar embrace. Gasping for air you let the smell of leather and ink fill your senses. 

The world suddenly felt solid and real. 

A dream…. It was just a dream… 

A nightmare. You hadn’t had a dream without Loki since you had arrived and now… 

“You’re safe. You’re safe.” Loki whispered, long fingers running gently through your hair. The voice was soft, smooth and sweet. You lifted your head from her chest and burrowed past her hair to settle your face against the soft skin of her neck. You let your arms wind around her form so you could pull her closer. She hushed you softly, pulling you onto her lap. Your chest heaved as you shoved down tears. She waited patiently for your breathing to slow before taking your chin gently between her fingers, lifting your gaze to hers. 

Her face was creased with worry. Her black waves fell across her shoulders, unbound. Her blue eyes watched you with great care as she brushed a tear from your face with her thumb. “I’m so sorry. I did not mean to take so long.” She placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, and you felt your body relax into her touch. 

“How long have you been having these nightmares?” 

“This is the first.” You admitted. “I don't think I’ve had a dream without you since I arrived here.” 

“If this is what happens when I am absent, then you won’t dream without me again.” 

Your cheeks grew warm, and you turned away not eager to be teased. Loki held your head in place, her gaze never showing anything other than concern- it only made your skin burn more. 

“I’m alright now.” You insisted. 

She didn’t look convinced. You couldn’t help but smile just a bit. 

“I promise. It was just a bad dream, and it’s gone now.” Your hand wandered on its own to tuck her hair gently behind her ear. Her gaze softened every so slightly, some of the fretful lines on her face smoothing. Her fingers gently wound around your wrist, pulling your hand to her lips and setting soft kisses across your knuckles. 

A soft laugh escaped your lips as she did so. How silly it seemed for her to be so upset over a nightmare- and yet her concern was so earnest you could not keep your heart still. Your whole body felt warm, and your head dizzy. Desperately as you tried, you could not restrain a giddy smile as it crept across your face. Reclaiming your hand you wrapped yourself around her twice as tightly. Loki’s chest shook as she laughed softly, pressing her lips against the side of your head. 

Once again her scent filled your senses. Your fingers slid gently along her neck as you brushed her hair away, revealing the pale skin that hid beneath. You pressed your nose gently against the crook of her neck, letting the heat of your breath pool against her ever present chill. 

Loki tensed ever so slightly at your touch, her breath catching in her throat. Her fingers gripped tightly at whatever bit of you was closest. 

“What are you…” she whispered breathlessly. 

Your tongue slid across your lips before you let them claim her. Her grip tightened as one hand gripped your shoulder and the other took hold of your hip. Her breath grew more ragged with each touch, her tension beginning to melt as she pulled you close. Her touch began to wander, searching for any inch of skin she could cling to. 

You worked slowly upwards to her ear, letting your tongue and teeth carve their path into her. As you nipped softly at her earlobe you at last managed to coax a moan from her lips. It was a beautiful sound. Her heavy breath brushed against your ear, raising every hair on your body. Releasing your shoulder, she let her nails trace a sharp line up the back of your neck before she twisted your hair around her fingers, pulling you back. 

The look on her face set you on fire. Behind the crystal blue of her eyes was a hunger that muddled with a pleasured delirium. It kept you locked in place, your heart taking flight. For a moment she examined you, her eyes darting across your form as if she could not decide what part of you to devour first. Her teeth sunk deep into her lip as she seemed to struggle to get her bearings. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at having shaken her so thoroughly. 

“Loki.” You whispered softly, cupping her cheek in your hand. It snapped her from her trance, returning her eyes to your own. You watched as her mind returned to the present, and her gaze steadied. You bit back a smile and ran your thumb across the sharp contours of her cheekbone. 

Mischief glittered beneath her eyes as an open mouthed grin sparked across her face. 

“Oh you, my lady, are in trouble .” She growled. 

With a quick movement she hooked her arm beneath you, lifting you to straddle her and pressing your hips tight against hers. You felt them rise to meet you as her fingers drew the hem of your skirt to your thighs, letting them sink into the soft flesh. Your delighted laugh quickly became a cry of pleasure. Loki’s chest rose to meet yours as she tightened her grip on your hair. She held you agonizingly still as she let her nose brush against yours, her lips close enough to yours that they ached. You pulled forward to try and claim them, but she maintained the same agonizing distance, a playful grin marking her triumph. She set her lips to the skin below your ear, her tongue leaving small cold marks with each desperate kiss. The brush of air from each desperate breath set your skin on fire. You let your hands wander along her sides, desperate to find the cool kiss of her skin- but the leather armor she adorned covered her too thoroughly. She hummed with amusement, the vibrations sending a wave of fire rising from your stomach. 

You pulled hard against her grip on your hair, trying to sink your lips into any part you could reach- desperate to alleviate the hunger that was boiling in you- but she pulled your head back fully, denying you the pleasure. She took the opportunity to turn her attention to the front of your neck, pulling you so that your back arched further and further back as she worked her way down.

By the time she sank her teeth into the soft of your shoulder you could barely whimper her name; and it only served to spur her on. With one hand holding firm to your behind, she sank her nails into the inside of your leg, drawing them slowly upwards towards till they were close enough to brush against you. Heat built and swelled between your legs. You tried to reach for her arm to urge her hand closer, but she was far stronger than you.

“Something wrong, my dear?” She purred, a wicked smile spreading from ear to ear. 

“You’re awful… just terrible…” you stammered through unsteady breaths. The grin on your own face and the desperate need in your tone took away any bite your words may have had. 

“Mmm” Loki hummed, reveling in your frustration. “I suppose if that’s the way you feel, it would be best if I leave you alone.”  

Slowly and methodically she walked her fingers back down towards your knee. Her fingers unwound themselves from your hair, and she simply leaned back to watch you-looking like she had been handed the power to control the world. 

While you would like to think you were someone with a great deal of personal restraint, it took only a moment before you threw yourself at her. Her marvelous laugh was cut off as you pressed your lips hard against hers. Your hips ground against her as the two of you rose and fell like waves, consumed by the touch and taste of one another . 

Loki’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you so tight against her you almost feared the two of you would fuse into one. She moaned as your fingers pushed their way into her hair. She sank her teeth into your lower lip, dragging them along the skin as she slowly pulled away. You could have let her devour you right then and there. 

Loki’s female form was much different from her male form. It was softer, more refined. Her movements felt more deft and deliberate- unrestrained in ways she seemed to otherwise avoid. What had not changed, however, was her strength. 

“As much as I would love to ruin you right here on the hall floors,” she offered between kisses. “Perhaps we can more to somewhere you might be more comfortable?” 

You merely nodded- concerned that, for a moment, you had lost every last memory of how to speak. You started to push yourself up to stand, but she  snapped your hips back into place against her. 

“Don’t move.” She commanded. 

“What?”

Loki didn’t respond, but instead placed one hand over your eyes while the other held you in place. “Just wait.” She said, place a slow line of kisses along your jaw. 

It made it considerably harder to argue. 

You felt the ground beneath you shift. The hard stone beneath your knees slowly gave way, melding into something warm and soft. You held tightly to the woman in your arms so as to not lose your balance, and she tightened her grip in kind. 

“I’ve got you.” She purred. “ Relax .” 

The way your breath seemed to echo in the halls was dampened, leaving you able to tell the difference between your breath and hers. It felt frighteningly intimate. 

Your mind tried desperately to use what few clues you had to discern where you were, but it didn’t take long once the familiar smell overtook you.

Loki removed her hand from your eyes and it took you a moment to adjust to the dark. Her room was as alive as it had felt the night before. Even with the crackling fire extinguished you could see the deliberate chaos of a lived in space, one all her own. One she had so freely shared with you. 

You wanted to see the real room like this, not coated in dust and forgotten. 

Not one to allow you to be distracted, however, Loki angled your gaze back to her. “Do I bore you?” She teased. You rolled your eyes and gave her shoulders a playful shove. The bed beneath you creeped softly as she made a great show of falling back onto the blankets, holding fast to your arm to drag you down with her. It wasn’t an opportunity you would waste. 

You let your hunger take hold as you pressed your lips to hers, pushing your knee between her legs to separate them. Her eyes fell closed as she moaned into you, wrapping her arms around your neck. One knee bent to brace itself against your hip, and her back arched slightly in tandem with the line your hands drew along her sides. 

The leather armor was increasingly becoming a problem. There was too little of her to touch this way, too little to kiss…

You tried to pull back but Loki was far less willing to relinquish control of your lips this time. After a small whimper of complaint she yielded, but only so much. She shifted a bit lower so that her attentions could trace the lines of your collarbone. 

“Loki…?” You tapped your fingers gently against the hard surface of the leather. She looked up at you curiously for a moment before she understood- but with her, understanding was rarely compliance. 

Before you had a moment to think, your view inverted as she flipped you onto your back. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re asking for.” She said smugly. You tried to grab her to pull her closer, but she quickly took hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. “Perhaps you should use your words.” 

Loki’s shifted possession of your wrists to one hand,  resting her weight back so as not to crush them. Her other hand slowly brushed along your cheek as you tried to muster the courage to say it out loud. 

It proved far more difficult than you thought.

Your mouth opened just as her fingers began to journey past your neckline. 

“I want to see you…” You breathed, trying to ignore the way your face burned. 

“But you do see me.” She said with a stubborn smile. 

“ Please ,” you begged. “I want to…” 

Your words cut off with a gasp as you felt a familiar prickle- not against your neck this time, but just between your breasts. Cold air washed across your overheated skin as the bodice of your dress seemed to simply divide itself down the middle at Loki’s command. You watched helplessly as she grinned at you through hooded eyes, her lips taking ownership of what had been so recently inaccessible. 

“You want to what?” She asked with a playful growl. 

Words vanished beneath gasps for air as her cold fingers slid down the surface of your breast, pressing the remaining fabric aside. It dissolved slowly, leaving everything above your waist exposed-a form of torture all its own. You had begun to ache, and you could tell just how slick you had become. Her name fell from your lips like a plea, but she was no longer paying attention. She cupped your chest gently, her strong fingers massaging as her tongue drew a slow, torturous line down from your collarbone. The shock of the cold air had already left your nipples stiff, so by the time Loki reached them she took it between her teeth with ease. She bit gently before letting her lips and tongue consume it entirely, quickly working in careful circles around it. 

Your back arched slightly and your hands desperately tried to break free, wanting to settle in her hair and hold her closer. Your legs shifted helplessly, trying to find purchase on the sheets to no avail. Instead, Loki pushed her knee between your legs, letting it drag the fabric of your skirts up with it. You felt every move and fold of the fabric in excruciating detail, wondering if, perhaps, she was the one ensuring you felt it all the more. 

Whatever thoughts might have come next were cut short when you felt her leg press hard against you. Your hips moved shamelessly as something between a gasp and a moan escaped your lips. She rocked gently, the rhythm of pressure and release building with a gentle friction that made your mind start to numb. 

“Loki… please .” You begged, more desperate this time, trying once more to free your hands from her grip. She took you firmly between her teeth, pulling upward slowly until your nipple slid free from their grasp. 

“You have to be more specific, pet.” She grinned. 

“I..” you were cut off as the hand that had held your breast began to travel down across your stomach. 

“You…?” 

Loki was enjoying your desperation far too much.

You felt her touch shift across the crumpled fabric of your skirts before at last slipping beneath them to play at the skin along your hips. It was so painfully close. 

“ Fuck .” You swore, gasping for air.

You heard her laugh before she moved to press her forehead against yours. Her eyes held yours so intently it sent a shiver of pleasure out across your body. 

“My dear,” she whispered. “I think we already are.” 

The fingers that had teased at your hips pushed lower, brushing against the skin of your folds. Her eyes seemed to spark as she realized how wet you were from her touch, and she quickly moved to ensure both breasts received the attention they deserved. 

At last she released your hands so she might better support herself, and all you could do was grasp desperately at the sheets. The hand between your legs slipped a careful finger just deep enough to separate you as slowly as she could possibly manage. You let whimpers of pleasure echo out through the room, secure in the knowledge there was no one to hear you. Your hips rocked forward, desperate to find her deeper within you. Loki didn’t pull away this time, but it made little difference. You were weak with pleasure, and even your most fervent efforts only served to unravel you all the more. 

“Loki please…” you gasped. “Please…” You ached for her touch, your body craving her fingers pressed inside you as her lips adored every inch of your skin. The chill of her skin made her every brush stand out all the more, particularly against the electricity that already coursed beneath your skin. Your breath caught as she pulled back slowly from your breast, “Please, what?” She grinned, the gentle lilt in her voice sending a chill down your spine. 

You let out an aching groan of frustration as she pulled her fingers from you. With a laugh, she pressed soft kisses along your neck. “You’ll have to beg for it, little one.” 

“I’m begging you…” you gasped, hands breaking free of the sheets to grip hard at her sides. 

“Be specific.” She hummed, slowly running her fingers across your cheek. “I want to hear you say it.” 

Wetting her lips slowly, she pressed them delicately to the hollow of your neck, her hands holding your hips firmly down against the bed. Her lips, teeth, and tongue carved their way down between your breasts. As they pressed to the sensitive skin of your stomach, a wave of fire  surged through you. Your cries became desperate, and at last your fingers found the courage to slip through her hair. You dared not grip too hard, however, unwilling to prolong this exquisite agony. 

Loki lingered about your hips, kissing along the band of your skirt for a moment before you felt the fabric melt away, exposing you to the open air. 

You yelped with surprise as her nails dug sharply into the soft flesh of your thighs. She bent your legs at the knee, pressing them apart slowly. 

She nipped firmly at the inside of your leg, working upwards from your knee- never once taking her eyes off you. 

Your every pleading moan and desperate gasp for air seemed to ignite the hunger and pride that smoldered behind the arresting blue of her eyes. 

“I suggest you find your words quickly.” She teased. “Or I may think you want nothing at all.” She spoke sharply and deliberately, each aninciated word casting warm breath across your folds. Your vision sparked, and your last hesitations vanished in an instant. 

Where your words failed you, your hands did not. Loki’s breath caught sharply as your grip tightened in her hair. You met with no resistance as you pulled her mouth to devour you at last. 

She did not waste a moment, the rumble of her hungry growl sent a surge through you and your hips lifted to press into it. 

The flat of her tongue pressed firmly against your clit, drawing slowly upward while her fingers teased at your entrance. 

“Don’t stop…” you moaned. 

As if by command, her tongue and finger plunged into you. Your back arced sharply as the digit curled within you- the pressure is exerted causing you to clench down tightly around her. Tongue teasing between your folds,  you swelled into her touch- ecstacy building far too quickly. 

Her teasing has seemed to go on for far too long, but this? You wanted this feeling to last forever.  

One finger became two, stretching you wider. Moans became cries of pleasure as her fingers thrusted rhythmically in you, twisting and curling in time with the meticulous motions her tongue flicked across your clit. 

Your grip on her hair has tightened even further, drawing deep moans rumbling from Loki’s chest. She rose and fell with the waves of your hips, never once slowing or relenting.  Heavy breaths left your mouth dry as every muscle in your body began to tighten slowly. As if sensing it, you felt her movements become more urgent- sending you higher.

You didn’t know how many times you cried out her name, or how many seconds she kept you suspended on the edge. Your hands groped blindly for something, anything to cling to that might keep you from careening over the edge. 

It was no use, however. With a few sharp curls of her fingers, she sucked hard against your clit, sending your mind reeling. Your vision blurred, and you cried out- back arching hard once more before your body gave way. 

Your chest heaved as you whimpered, your senses slowly coming down from their high. Loki grinned wickedly as she pulled back, kissing slowly and softly at the inside of your leg. You would savor her touch for as long as she would offer it- your eyes fluttering closed as at last you felt fully and completely satisfied. 

Chapter Text

You could not meet Loki’s eyes at the breakfast table the next morning. He radiated an air of insufferable smugness that made you flush all the way to your core. 

The conversation gravitated towards him for once, others pulled in by his newfound confidence. You, however, just tried not to choke on your breakfast. 

Last night had been wonderful, but when you woke you found yourself disappointed to not find Loki there by your side, tucked beneath the blankets, where you could waste away the morning hours in eachothers arms. It was hard not to agree that the distance was made all the worse now that you knew what it was you were missing. 

You had wasted no time getting to the dining hall, eager just to have Loki in your sights once more-but the moment you saw him, the intensity of the memories came flooding back. You knew he could tell from the way he grinned at you when you sat down- and from that point on your eyes barely left your plate.  It was of little help, however, for the only thing that remained was the echoes of her touch. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Child, are you ill?” A gentle hand placed itself on your arm, and you were pulled to attention. The Allmother, who had insisted you sit beside her, looked at you kindly. 

“I’m fine, Allmother, thank you for your concern.” You said with a smile. “Simply a restless night.” 

“Hmm.” She hummed, a slight lilt in her voice. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought she knew something. “It seems the palace doesn’t agree with you.” She mused.

“Forgive me,” you said sheepishly. “I believe the excitement of it all has simply tired me more than I anticipated.” 

“The palace is in constant motion.” She took a thoughtful sip from her cup. “For better or worse, nothing ever remains as it is for long.” 

Her tone dropped in a way that did not sit well in your ears. Though her eyes were on you, they seemed to be looking far beyond. They seemed almost sad. 

You knew the queen was not born on Asgard. As one of the Vanir, she had come when she had married the Allfather; and you wondered how often she thought of the family she had left behind. 

You stroked the lobe of your ear with your thumb for a moment, unsure of the right words to say. Queen Frigga seemed to notice your discomfort.

“Don’t let it worry you, my dear.” she said with a light laugh. “Even when things are darkest, we know the light lies just beyond.” She patted your hand gently and you gave her a smile. “Some people remember that better than others.”

“Pardon?” 

She grinned, knowingly. “Take my sons, for example.” 

Oh no...

“Both have lived a life of relative ease, but they have not been without their struggles. My oldest has spent quite a bit of his time with the light of adoration cast upon him. He has, by all means, earned it.” She chuckled. “When faced with darkness, he knows the light well enough to know it will return to him some day.” 

She had looked to Thor, whose attentions were fixed on the mortal woman beside him. She had started to look worse by the day, and more and more he seemed to dote on her- fulfilling her every need. 

“Hope.” You said with a nod of understanding. 

“Precisely.” The Allmother seemed quite pleased with you, and her approval stirred as much pride as your mothers. “However, when you stand in the light, you cast a shadow- and, unfortunately, it has fallen across his brother.”

Loki . 

It was no secret that the very actions that had lead to him being dragged back to Asgard in chains had something to do with his brother. As someone outside the royal court, however, you had never been clear on the finer details. But truly, what else spurred brothers to fight but jealousy? 

“Despite all his many talents,” She continued, “he seems determined to see only what he lacks. Through pride and stubbornness he has condemned himself to remain in the dark.” 

Your brow creased. “Forgive me my lady, but… why share this with me?” 

The Queen simply smiled. “Musings of a worried mother I suppose.” You watched her closely as she seemed to consider her words with great care. “Dark times lay ahead, I fear- and I worry how it may change Loki.” Her expression shifted, and the knowing in her eyes now incredibly clear. “It has always been my hope that, were he ever to find someone, that they might be able to help him find his way out from the shadows. Remind him of the light.” 

You froze, searching her face for confirmation of exactly how much she knew. Did she approve? Disapprove? Was it a request or a warning? Perhaps it was both. You took a steadying breath.

“I have no doubt, Allmother, that whoever finds their way to him will feel the same.” 

Knowing became clear approval. “I am glad to hear it.” she cooed, returning to her meal. You couldn't help but smile. Odin may not care for his younger son, but Frigga cared enough for them both. She saw light in him much as you had begun to- and were dark times to come, you would not let him be crushed beneath. 

__________________________________________________

The fire crackled softly in the hearth as you helped your mother parse through the stacks of documents she had compiled. 

Since she had voiced her concern to you about the plans for Midgard, she had taken little time to rest. Her eyes had become sunken and dull, and your father had hinted that her sleep had become increasingly fitful. You felt a pang of guilt for having neglected to help her for so long, but you were determined to make up for it now. 

Besides, you were hoping that a few hours of uninterrupted bureaucracy would be enough to shake you from the tantalizing memories that haunted your morning. It was barely noon and already the ache to return to your dreams had become unbearable. His smug grin flashed across your mind. 

Bastard.

For the most part, there to find of which your mother had not already taken note. While uncharacteristically short sighted, Loki’s plan did not seem impossible. If Thor truly had pressured him to it as he claimed, perhaps there had simply been nothing he could do. Though your visit had left you with the impression that Thor was quite kind, he had not struck you as particularly wise. 

You leaned back in your chair, allowing your muscles to unclench. You watched your mother across the table, turning over the same page again and again. Her head dipped and nodded every few moments, but she seemed determined to fight it.

“Mother, please. Let me finish this.” You said softly. “You’ve not let yourself rest, and fresh eyes like mine will have better luck.”

She gave you a soft smile, clearly too worn to argue. “You’re right, Sparrow.” she muttered. “A few moments of resting my eyes will do me good.” Pushing up from her chair, she stopped to place a kiss on the top of your head. “What would I do without you?” 

“Anything but sleep, it would seem.” You teased. Rolling your eyes, you shooed her off to the room she and your father shared, returning your focus to the task at hand.

You quickly decided the library would be better suited to the task. As much as your mother had gathered, more could lay hidden within its shelves. Perhaps some of it would provide a solution.  You found a bag in which you could set most of the papers and books, and made your way off down the halls. 

In an act of both stubbornness and pride, you had left the crystal map Loki had crafted for you in your room. You did, however, ensure your journal was still close at hand. You had mostly memorized the way to the library by now, and the materials were hard enough to negotiate as it was. Trying to keep hold of something small, crystalline, and round would no doubt end in disaster. 

It didn’t take long to find yourself a table near another lit hearth. The heat was comforting, and part of you still hoped it would lull you to sleep so that you might relive the thrills of the night before. Spreading the contents of your bag out across the table, you set to work.

It was almost immediately discouraging. 

The problem was apparent, but the solution was not- and you weren’t sure what she had hoped to find amongst the maps, manifests, and outdated Midgardian historical texts that were strewn about. 

You weren’t sure there was anything to find. 

Your eyes fell on the sheet your mother had been turning over for quite a while. There was little to it. On one side, the tail end of a manifest with a few haphazard notes scrawled in the open space. On the other, a series of calculations. Nothing more than scrap paper. 

Through the many notes you had taken for your father, you had become more and more familiar with how Midgard had changed since the days of old. Their population had grown greatly in number; land had been divided, wars fought, advancements made, and yet they held nothing close to what the people of Asgard were capable of. You wondered how possible it would be to fit each person and vehicle that was part of the caravan with a forcefield like the ones that guarded the palace. Would the mortals even know what they were? Would they be suspicious? If something could be done to make your people just a little bit safer, it would be worth the time and effort. 

Still, you had no doubt that Loki had likely considered the same. It wasn’t the sort of thing he would miss. You flipped the paper back and forth- from calculations, to notes, and back again - until it struck you why the handwriting was so familiar. 

You could recognize the sharp scrawl anywhere by now. You had spent so long fighting with it that it seemed to be a person all its own. 

You could picture him, bleary eyed, pouring over the endless paperwork trying to sort out the best way to maneuver through a task such as this. His choice to place his brother at the head of the envoy was suspect, but you wondered if it had been a suggestion from Thor himself. 

You let your eyes wander across the calculations. 

Too many numbers with too little context. 

Meaningless, all of it. Except….

7,000,000,000 : 9,000

What was it Loki had said?

“Did you know that the population of Midgard outnumbers Asgard by three hundred thousand to one?”

When he had said it, the magnitude of it hadn’t truly hit you- but looking at it written out like this was unsettling. How many of them were armed? 

How far does Thor’s trust of mortals really extend?

You pushed yourself to your feet and made your way to stand by the hearth. You let your head rest against the stone mantle, feeling the cool contrast the burning fire. What would happen, you wondered, if something were to happen with an envoy? Were there to be a skirmish, no doubt the mortals would come up short- but if caught by surprise, many could be left wounded or dead. You shivered. Even with the crown prince at the head, how many could he truly protect? He was hesitant to harm mortals, but if pressed, would he choose their lives over the lives of his people? Surely not. 

But is that better?

Likely not. Were he to harm humans for any reason, it was likely that their fondness for him would dry up in an instant. They would throw all their might at him, and likely with no regard for collateral damage. 

Thor had shared with you and your father the tale of the Battle of New York, including the weapon that the mortals had fired upon their own people. When it had been sent through an open portal, it had decimated an unsuspecting alien army. 

Thor’s allies had been able to stop it then, but they were prepared- already engaged in battle. Was such a thing to happen, Thor and the envoy would not stand a chance- and if the crown prince were to die at the hands of Midgardians?

Odin would see to it that none of them survived. 

You knew it was true. You had begun to pull fretfully at your ear even though it stung. Loki knew the consequence of failure was war. Why else would he want to know how many mortals each Asgardian would have to survive against.

Three hundred thousand to every one. 

Asgard had a great many weapons, but the mortals were not as unarmed as they once had been- and even then, they had managed to find ways to survive against the Jotun. 

Frost giants were not easy creatures to fell. 

You felt the cold chill wash across you before you realized why. 

Loki had already waged war against Midgard. He knew the size of their armies, the strength they held- but the numbers on the page did not compare army to army, they compared people to people. Civilian to civilian. 

What’s more, why compare all of Midgard? Surely only the nation in which New York resided would be of concern? Why count all of them? 

Loki wasn’t foolish enough to think one nation would welcome the full armies of all others- particularly if it was into a city that had been so recently devastated. Even if things went horribly wrong, there was no reason the bifrost could not be closed before they could make their way into Asgard.

But if Loki expected Thor to die… 

If he expected there would be trouble. If he expected there would be an attack, expected that his brother would do all he could to defend the envoy…

If he expected Thor not to return, then Odin would likely not stop until Midgard had been crippled- even if it took every last Asgardian to do it. 

You stared into the fire until your skin burned. 

You tried to ignore the horrible ache rising in your chest. Tears stung as you tried to force them back. 

No. 

This wasn’t the Loki you knew. This wasn’t the Loki who had caused you no greater harm than a few days of irritation and worry. 

But was it the same Loki whose grip might have bruised your shoulder had you not been in a dream? That Loki, the one from stories and rumors- the one who had borne down on Midgard with the might of an army at his command…

He would not hesitate to do something like this. 

You swallowed nervously, turning quickly back to the table and snatching up the page. 

They’re just numbers. Only numbers. Meaningless. 

So why did they scare you so? 

Pacing in front of the hearth you considered what you now held in your hand. It could be nothing- but if it was not… 

It had been days ago when this had been written, no one else had seen anything wrong with it. It had not incriminated him in anything, so why worry about it? Your eyes wandered over the fire.

If it were nothing, what would it hurt to destroy it? 

The thought frightened you. When did you begin to think like this? Why would you be willing to do something like this? Was this something, your mother would never forgive you. The crown prince could die. A war could start with Midgard. 

And every drop of blood will be on your hands. 

Was that true? 

Like any other Asgardian you had grown up with stories of the might of Asgard and its people. You had grown up well versed in the history of Odin and his armies, of his conquest of the nine- but you also learned that it was not without consequence. 

Fate had ways of balancing itself, and were the stories true, Asgard would pay for its mistakes a thousand fold. 

A myth! 

You couldn’t consider putting all of Asgard at risk because of a myth!  And even if every face you had ever seen was destined to perish in some horrible end of days, would it justify this? Was protecting Loki from himself worth it? 

The thin red strands you had seen beneath the light of the weaving room came to mind. They were strands of fate, yes, but if the fate of love could be changed, could not everything? 

“...Were he ever to find someone, that they might be able to help him find his way out from the shadows. Remind him of the light.” 

If the fate of love could be changed, it stood to reason that anything- anyone - touched by love could change, could it not?

You wondered when the world had become so fluid; the truth so mailable. 

When you fell in love with the God of Lies

You had fallen in love with him... You loved him. 

Damn. Damn!

The thought was strange and frightening, but it didn’t feel wrong in the least.

If you did this, would he ever know what you had done for him? If Thor was lost, would Loki be left to take the throne? Would that free him from the burdens he pressed upon himself? Lift the shadows of self doubt? 

Would you be able to be by his side?

It was beyond presumptuous to think you had this level of control. Who were you to change fate? To decide how time should flow? If he became King of Asgard, would the way people saw him change? You had seen how kind he could be- how clever, how strong… but how much of him was invisible to you? 

You turned to face the fire, the single sheet of paper still clutched tightly in your grip. It would only take a second, and all of it would be gone. Your mother would not notice, and even if she did you could simply say you hadn’t noticed. It could have fallen out anywhere. 

You pressed your eyes shut tight and focused on the rise and fall of your breath. Your heart fell quiet and you let yourself drift into a calm. Bit by bit, you urged yourself to release the tension from your fingers; to release the page into the flames…

If Loki had decided it was the throne he wanted, you knew you would not be able to stop him. You had begun to trust him, to believe he truly wanted to rule well were he to rule at all. 

You could stay by his side. If you supported him, you could be the light his mother had spoken of, couldn’t you? She could see strands of fate as easily as you could see your own hands, so did she know that this choice would come to you today? Was this what she meant when she said she wanted someone to be his light? 

You swallowed hard, and stared hard into the flames for one moment more- until at last you managed to let go. 

The paper fell quickly into the flames. It caught with ease, the fire crackling lightly as it consumed the one and only sheet of evidence. What was done could not be undone, but if you could stand beside him and struggle for even a moment against the bindings of fate… 

That was when the very earth below you lurched, and an explosion rocked the Palace. 

Chapter Text

 You stood frozen in place, every last inch of your body prickling with fear. 

Your pulse quickened, eyes widened, your senses revealed more to you than you had ever hoped you would need to know. 

The body knew to come alive in the face of death-but in the face of panic, your feet refused to move. 

Go. GO. 

Go where? Back to your quarters? Where were your parents? What if here was safer? 

Was this an attack? 

The frost giant attack from years before crossed your mind. It didn’t take long for you to realize that it wouldn’t matter what you did or where you went. As long as you were on palace grounds, nowhere would be safe.  

Loki. 

A prince in a palace under siege. A target. The whole royal family would be. 

You had no idea where he was.

The ground  lurched beneath you once more; a wave of screams came echoing from every corner of the palace. Walls shook and mortar crumbled, and as you heard shelves behind you begin to move, you threw your arms over your head and ran. 

The moment you crossed the threshold into the halls it felt like a mistake. The noise was overwhelming. Small squads of Einherjar did their best to cut through the flurries of people moving in no discernible direction. You were caught up in it before you even had the chance to retreat back through the door. 

You clung to your notebook, convinced that we’re you to try and open it or put it back in your pockets, the first jostle would force it from your grasp to be lost beneath the footsteps of the fleeing many. 

You couldn’t be sure how long you ran with the tide, or where. Neither familiar landmarks nor faces appeared to ground you.

Your mind became lost in the screaming of frightened people- the screaming engines of warring ships. The echoing fire of every defense cannon made you flinch, every sound of steel grinding against steel spurred you on faster. One by one people found refuge, and when enough had pulled away you managed to wrap your fingers around a passing corner and drag yourself into a mostly empty hall. 

Find a room. Close yourself in. Hide.

Your legs only carried you a few feet before completely giving way. 

Collapsing against a wall you began to realize just how badly you had been shaking. Your whole body coursed with adrenaline - hands trembling so violently you were shocked you had kept a grasp on your notebook. Not that it was much help at the moment. 

You desperately flipped open the pages looking for the map, but a quick glance confirmed what you already knew: you were completely lost. 

You were no longer flinching with every sound of battle, but the screaming had begun to make your ears ring. It was so loud you could barely hear your own thoughts. 

Focus. A deep breath. What do you feel…

Something warm moved down your forearm, and you clapped your hand over it with a start. A wave of pain passed over you- so strong it stole your breath. You had no energy left with which to scream, and the bright red that stained your fingers told you why. 

For a moment you had hope that perhaps the blood was not your own. You gingerly turned your arm to see where it had come from.

A gash nearly an inch deep seemed to run most of the length of your upper arm- and the trail of blood that had soaked its way into the side of your dress only made you feel worse. However long you had been bleeding, it was enough for it to reach all the way down to your hem. 

What a pathetic way to die. 

Tears welled in your eyes as fear and exhaustion took hold, and it took everything you had left to shove them down. 

You couldn’t be heard. Who knew who would find you if you did.

You closed your eyes and let your fingers run along the leather spine of the object in your hand. It ached. You wanted to speak with Loki. To have him near. At least you would know he was alive, then. That he was safe. 

Even as you sat listening to the sounds of destruction that swelled around you, your thoughts were filled with the few, precious moments you had stolen. 

You would take what little comfort you could find.

A strange guilt washed over you as you remembered the secret messages that had passed between you. 

Could you write something? Anything at all on the page?  Perhaps he would be watching. Perhaps he would know what to do, or where you could go. 

And if he wasn’t? 

Would he blame himself for asking you to stay? Would he want to tell him how you felt in your last moments? Or would that only make things worse?

Stay alive and you won't have to worry about the answer.

You knew you had to try. With your good arm you reached into your pocket for your pencil, but came up empty. You flipped through the pages to see if it had been buried there, or even behind your ear- but it was gone. No doubt having fallen somewhere along the line as you had been swept haplessly through the halls. You swore beneath your breath. Of course it was gone. 

You didn’t have the energy to wander aimlessly through the halls, and were you to encounter someone who meant you harm,  you would never be able to fight them off. 

Moving would be nothing short of suicide. 

You reached for the hem of your dress, and tried with all your strength to push your fingers through the fabric. To tear enough loose to wrap your wound, but it proved far more difficult than you had anticipated. Your injured arm burned until, at last, the threads gave way beneath your fingertips. Carefully you pulled away the hem of your dress and braced yourself as you wrapped it as tightly around the wound as you could manage. It wouldn’t be much, you knew that, but if it could give you even a few minutes more it would be worth it. 

Heart pounding in your chest, you realized how much the act of binding your wound had drained you. Panic rose in your chest. However long you had left would likely not be enough. The thought was immobilizing.

Think of something else. Anything else.

You could think of nothing else - your mind wouldn’t let you. 

Find something.

Reflexively you pulled back the cover to the very first page- the things you had written when you arrived at the palace. 

Little of it held your attention for more than a second, but when you found the familiar handwriting you had been looking for, it held your eye. 

You weren’t sure if the sound you made was a laugh or a sob. The first night at the palace seemed years ago, yet it had barely been a few weeks. Then, you would have done anything to be rid of him, and now… 

Bastard. 

You ran a finger across the page, hoping perhaps you could soak in the very last bit of him through whatever magic lingered on the page.

Instead, all you managed was to leave your own blood on the page. 

It seemed incredibly melodramatic. 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the wall. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to both no one and everyone all at once. You were so tired. The pages began to feel warmer beneath your fingers. 

Perhaps you’re just getting colder. 

The skin on the  back of your neck prickled as a chill ran down your spine. A bad sign. 

“Where are you?” Loki’s voice cut through the silence like a dagger. 

Your eyes flickered open, and you glanced around to find the source of the voice- but the hall was completely empty. 

“Can you hear me?” 

“Yes.. I.. I don’t know.” You stammered. 

“You don’t know if you can hear me? Or do  you not know where you are.” 

“Where I am.”  You snapped. 

“I need you to listen to me. I can find where you are, and I know where you can be safe but I cannot come to you. I would not ask it of you if there were any other way, but you must come to me.” 

“Loki…” You shook your head weakly “I can barely keep my eyes open…” 

Wherever he was, you wouldn’t make it. How cruel it seemed that at long last you might have been able to see him, but now…

“Do NOT close your eyes.” His voice echoed loud and angry though your head. Your heart leapt to life again. 

“You will come to me. You will follow the map, and you will stay awake. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” 

A strange sort of calm washed over you. His voice, and the determination therein meant he hadn’t given up. It struck you that perhaps he wasn’t leading you to him, but to another projection. 

Does it really matter?

You turned to the map where a new path had appeared. You were far from your usual routes, but what formed on the map did not lead you in that direction. 

Wherever it was, it lay  in the complete opposite direction, but it was  far closer-and that would suit you just fine. 

Steadying your breath, you pushed yourself to your feet. 

They  were unsteady beneath you, your muscles aching as if you had been running for days. Still, you pressed forward. There wasn’t a moment to stand still. You had to get to him - it didn’t matter if he would really be there or not. 

Your footsteps were unsteady, creating an offset rhythm that echoed against the walls. You feared that at any moment someone or something might come barreling towards you from somewhere down the halls- but they were emptier than you had expected. 

The path took you further and further from the heart of the palace, allowing you to slowly leave behind the sounds of fear and death.

You forced yourself not to think about what lay in the other direction. 

The minutes blurred together as you stumbled along, doing your best to follow what had been mapped out for you. The last bits of energy within you had faded fast, and now your eyes were beginning to blur.

But you were close. You were so close. 

 A final turn brought you down a flight of stairs- a terrifying task that seemed to take you a lifetime- your bodyweight threatening to plunge you downwards with every step. 

When at last you reached the landing, it fed directly into a grand hall. Domed ceilings seemed to loom miles above you. Cauldrons of fire did their way to press away the encroaching darkness, and the flickered gently as a soft breeze shifted past.

A breeze?

Something was wrong. 

It was day, you were sure it was, but the firelight barely did a thing to chase away the vast shadows around you.

 You checked the map. You had followed it correctly, and whatever your destination was- it lay ahead. 

The hall emptied out onto a massive stone terrace, and whatever safety you would find had to be just beyond. 

Your uneven steps rang out across the cavernous space, so loudly you worried someone would come to strike you down at any moment. 

But the air was deathly still. 

Even the shouting and fighting that had filled the air before seemed nothing more than a distant memory. 

As you stepped out onto the stone, your breath caught. Before you lay a vast chasm, connected on each side by a bridge that you swore could hold ten soldiers standing abreast. At the moment it seemed littered with broken stone and overturned braziers.

Halfway across the divide, a massive structure stood, looking much as if someone had rested an anvil down, tilting it back until it pointed to the sky. 

Where it dipped low, it blended into one single mass of stone. A building with no windows or doors.  Your heart began to race.

“Loki, somethings wrong.”

“What’s happened? Are you alright?” 

“I think I’ve gone the wrong way… I’m not sure how… I” 

“What do you see?”

“The dungeons.” 

You had never seen them in person before, but they were unmistakable. A strange and treacherous structure meant to house the enemies of Asgard. Why were you here? You must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Your limbs felt like lead. Wherever it was you were supposed to be, you knew you wouldn’t make it now. 

“You’ve gone the right way.” He soothed. You would not have it. 

“Loki this is not a time for jokes.” You replied, trying to hide the shake in your voice.

“I would not lie to you at a time like this. I would not put you in danger like that. I beg you, just trust me.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, and the knot that had begun to form in your chest began to ache.

Ah yes. Trust the god of lies.  

But what did it matter? If now was to be your end, what did it matter if it was one way or the next? You mustered your courage and pressed on.

The walk across the bridge seemed unending, but it hadn't taken long for the masses you had thought were stones to take on a different form. 

Unmoving, they were dressed in black and gold. Some lay in pools of red, their skin gone pale- but others seemed to have turned ashen, their features cracked and broken as if they had been charred by an unseen fire.

They were Einherjar.

Your blood ran cold. The whole path was littered with the dead. Einherjar and enemy alike were motionless against the cold stone, as if they had never lived at all. 

“You have to come to me. Forgive me, but you just have to make it a little further.”  Had he been able to feel your distress? At any other time that thought might have been exciting, but here and now…

As panic set in, your breath started to come in short, quick gasps. You lifted your chin high enough that you could continue without catching the glassy eyed expressions of the dead. Your stomach churned. There was small comfort in the fact that the bridge was so impractically wide- you were sure that if you were to catch sight of the vast depths below you would lose your ability to move altogether. 

Wind pulled at your hair as you stood at the crest of a small ramp. It sloped downwards towards massive gold doors- the entrance to the cells. 

You moved carefully so that you wouldn’t slide your way down the smooth surface- and when you at last managed to reach them, the doors were already ajar. 

You stood just outside them, terrified of what you might find inside. 

“Loki? Your voice was barely able to reach above a whisper. 

“I’m here.” he assured you. “It’s safe.” 

His voice was real this time. Physical and present, not just echoing in your head. A wave of relief washed over you. You had made it. You would be alright, wouldn’t you? You pressed your eyes shut, and stepped across the threshold. 

Once inside, you slowly pried your eyes open. 

The floor was strewn with bodies. Most of the shimmering barriers that kept prisoners contained were gone, and the place seemed a ruin. You stumbled back as fear washed over  you again, and yelped as your hand hit something on the wall. You heard the flicker of energy, and watched one of the last standing barriers disappear. Breathlessly you waited for whatever was inside to come out- to kill you in an instant of anger- but there was only quiet. 

The next fear to strike you was far worse. There were so many bodies about you… Your heart hammered at the thought that Loki’s body might be among them. Your eyes darted around the room, and it did not take long for them to come to rest on his form. 

He seated with his back pressed against a wall, head in his hands. His chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath, his normally pristine armor splattered with blood. Gashes marred the metal and leather alike- the final trace of assailants that had no doubt paid for their mistake with their life. 

His hair fell in dark waves around his face in tendrils set with sweat and blood. He didn’t move as you entered. 

“Are you hurt?” You asked, barely able to manage a whisper. 

He laughed bitterly. 

The sound was unexpected-almost frightening juxtaposed against your surroundings. 

One hand lifted to slowly press back the hair from his face as he turned to you. Ice blue eyes sent a chill through you as he deftly pushed himself to his feet. 

“Are you?”  he asked. His face was twisted with worry. It seemed almost silly to you that he would worry.

Perhaps that was just because you were so lightheaded. 

“No.” You laughed, “Not at all.” 

Neither of you found the strength to move. Seconds of uncertain silence hovered in the air as a thousand thoughts passed through your head. Questions, demands, fears, wants- all twisted into knots you couldn’t undo. In his eyes you could see the same. 

“Come here.” He said, tensing as if the thought of you approaching frightened him. “I need to see your injuries.” 

The command was firm, but still you hesitated. The shape in front of you seemed so real… If it was only an illusion you feared you might fall apart. 

“You need to rest.” He insisted. “The cell has a bed, you can lie down and I’ll tend to you.” 

“How?” 

“How?” he repeated, uncertain. 

“If you don’t have enough energy to maintain yourself after… this…” You said, glancing about the room, “Then I don't want you to disappear.” 

Your voice was so much smaller than you ever remembered it being. It was too much. All of this was just too much…

Loki looked perplexed for a moment, but his face stilled as at last it dawned on him. Slowly, the corners of his lips pulled back into a smile. 

“If you don’t come to me, then I will have to come get you.” he teased. 

What? 

“No… I won’t make you I can…” 

You took a few careful steps forward, but your vision swam. You managed to remain upright for the moment, but you caught Loki’s smile dropping away almost instantly. 

He cleared the distance between you in only a few steps. You felt one arm hook around your shoulder, the other beneath you leg as he swept you off the ground. “You’re a bit worse for wear, little one.” he sighed, placing a soft kiss atop your head as he held you tight to his chest. “But I promise you will be alright.” 

“Hmmm…” You sighed. You let your head rest its weight against his shoulder, trying your best to keep your eyes open- but even beneath the stench of blood, you could still smell him. 

Leather and ink, old paper and steel. 

It hit you with a jolt, one strong enough he looked down at you with concern. 

“Did I hurt you? Do you need me to…
“You’re here.” you breathed. 

Though it took great effort, you lifted your hand to his cheek. 

It was cold. His skin had texture and form, no longer just featureless glass beneath your fingers. Disbelief almost turned to tears.

“I’m here, little one, I’m here.” he whispered softly.

His steps were smooth and gentle as he took care not to cause you any undue pain. The cell, you noticed, was much more comfortable than you had expected a cell to be. A bed large enough for one to spread out was accompanied by a side table. A pitcher of water sat in a wash basin, and chairs and tables were covered in books, papers, and what seemed like a half finished meal. 

You felt Loki’s hand brush against your cheek. His fingers slid slowly to wrap around the back of your neck, thumb soft against your cheek. He leaned down to press his forehead to yours, and you felt his hair tickle your face. 

You could feel him. 

You pressed your hand over his,  your fingers interlacing so you could hold his hand tight. Or at least, as tight as you could. 

You felt your body relax into his, worn thin by exhaustion and relief. 

“Where are you hurt?” He asked, clearly worried by how limp you had become. 

“My arm.” You said, nodding to the one you had wrapped. 

He nodded solemnly. “I’ll need to clean it, and it won't be pleasant,” he warned. “But it needs to be done.” 

You nodded, closing your eyes and facing away. 

You heard the sound of the sheets below you tearing, and the soft shift of water as he placed it into the pitcher. Gently as he could, he peeled your binding away. 

You couldn’t tell whose gasp was louder. Loki released his with a distressed sigh, before you heard water being squeezed from the cloth. 

You barely held back a scream as the cold water pressed against your wound. It burned like nothing you had felt before- the pain consuming every last bit of strength you had left.

Loki’s hand shook as he held your arm tight. You were unable to manage words, but nodded to assure him you were alright.  This didn’t need to be any harder for either of you than it already was. 

It felt as if it took forever to get it clean, but slowly you adjusted to the pain, and it became easier and easier to endure. When at last he bound it with another bit torn from the sheet, he moved to stand. Your fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist on their own.

His eyes ached. “I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered, pressing his lips against your forehead.  “Not now.” He brushed the hair from your face and sat slowly on the edge of the bed. You released him, and he stood. 

As much as you wanted to watch him, to keep him in your sight so he couldn’t disappear, you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. It scared you.

“Loki…” you muttered. He was back at your side almost immediately. 

“No, you must stay awake, do you understand?” The fear in his voice cloyed at your heart. 

“I’m trying.” 

“I know.” He said, fingers stroking your hair nervously. You could feel him hesitating at your side. 

“I’m sorry, but  I have to leave you.” He said softly.

“What?” 

“You need help, and I don’t have the skills to provide what you need. If I go find someone it will be faster. You’ll be alright. You just have to remain awake for me, do you understand?” He urged. “You need to promise me you will stay awake.” 

A part of you knew you wouldn’t be able to. That whatever you had left wouldn’t last you very long- and it wasn’t enough that you could find the strength to ask him to stay. 

You couldn’t ask him to watch you die. So instead, you pried your eyes open just barely-forcing a small smile. 

“I promise.” you lied, perhaps for the very last time. 

Chapter Text

Your consciousness slipped from your grasp almost as soon as Loki left your sight. 

You faded in and out of a dreamless sleep, unable to tell how much time may have passed you by. 

Each time you awoke, your body either shivered, unable to warm yourself- or burned so hot you were almost certain you were on fire. Yet regardless of how much you wished to adjust for your own comfort, you lacked the strength to do it. 

There was no way to tell how much time had passed. The bright lights of the cell never seemed to fade, and if someone had come to see you, you were not awake to see them. It was frightening and disorienting to shift in and out of reality in such a way. Sometimes you could hear distant voices, and you wondered if they could tell when you stirred. If only you could call out, let someone know you were still alive. 

At least you assumed you were still alive. You could only imagine being dead was not quite this painful. 

When, at long last, you were able to fight off the urge to drift back into sleep, the extent of your injuries became clear. 

Your head throbbed, and your wounded arm felt almost entirely numb. Every muscle ached, and the slightest movements took inordinate amounts of energy. Your eyes struggled to focus, and your mind seemed to be unable to grasp onto anything coherent. 

When you at last managed some semblance of clarity, you turned your head to search the space around you. 

The furniture that had once populated the cell was gone. All that remained, it seemed, was the bed upon which you lay. 

Your arm had been re-dressed and seemed to be on the mend despite the pain that still radiated from it. You flexed your fingers, testing to see if they still worked- and to your relief they did. Someone had clearly seen to your wounds. 

Loki

This had to mean he was alright. That he had made it to find help unharmed, and that you managed to survive despite your injuries. It was comforting, but still something nagged at you. 

Why were you still in the cell? 

You could see that the shimmering gold barrier had been restored, closing you in. Beyond it stood Einherjar, armed to the teeth and wrangling what prisoners they had managed to recapture. Had the barrier been set to protect you from them? Had your injuries truly been so bad they feared moving you? 

Where is Loki?  

You had hoped that, were you to wake again, he would be there. That you could remind yourself that the physical contact you had found with him had been real- that he had been real- but you were alone. 

It occurred to you that you had been out far longer than you thought. Perhaps Loki or your parents had spent long hours near you, but had been forced to return to their lives when you did not wake. If you could just get someone’s attention…

You did your best to push yourself upright, momentarily forgetting about the injury to your arm- until placing pressure on it sent a sharp pain through your whole side. You yelped in pain, recoiling so quickly you almost fell back onto the bed. Thankfully, it at least seemed to grab the attention of one of the guards. 

You almost wished you hadn’t. 

The way they looked at you held no kindness or concern. The soldier’s gaze was stern, and almost seemed resentful. It made your blood run cold. They held your eyes for a few moments, and whatever words you had before, vanished in an instant. 

Why am I in a cell…

If it had simply been that they feared moving you, would they look at you like that? Would they not have had a healer nearby to watch for you to awaken? The fear in your eyes would be apparent, you knew. You hadn’t the strength to hide it. 

The Einherjar didn’t wait for you to speak. Instead they turned around, and spoke something you couldn’t hear to another soldier. They gave you the same resentful look before turning to the exit and disappearing. You had no clue what was happening, and it was clear no one intended to tell you. 

You wanted your mother and father to be there to comfort you. You wanted Loki there to hold you. Perhaps the Einherjar were going to fetch them… but something about how they looked at you made you doubt it. 

Lowering yourself carefully, you settled back against the pillow. Sleep was already calling you back, and you had to hope that- if someone came to see you- they would have the courtesy to wake you. 

Slipping back into a dreamless sleep, time escaped you. It seemed as if you had only just closed your eyes when the feeling of something cold against your forehead pulled you awake again. 

“Loki?” You murmured, your voice even worse for wear than you had anticipated. 

“I’m afraid not, child.” 

Your eyes flashed open. The Allmother sat on your bedside, watching you with a pitying smile. She drew the wet cloth from your head, placing it back into the basin of water in her lap. 

“Your fever has been difficult to break.” She said softly. “But you are awake now, and that is a very good sign. I’m sure it won't be long until you are hearty and hale once more.” 

“My Queen…” You struggled a bit, pressed by tradition to try and greet the Allmother properly, but your strength wouldn’t allow it. Nor would she. 

“Stop.” She chided, putting a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you down on the bed. “If you move too much you will undo all our healers’ fine work; and I simply will not allow it.” 

You did as you were told, but grappled with how to politely ask what in the nine she was doing here, tending to you.

“You’ve had quite the impact on my son.” She said casually, wringing the water from the cloth and dabbing it against your forehead. “More than you could possibly have known.” 

“I beg your pardon, my Queen?” Your face flushed with more than fever. Of course she would know. Loki had gone to find aid for you in the middle of battle. He had brought you to him, and dressed your wound. If she hadn’t known before, she would after that. 

The Allmother chuckled. “Loki cannot lie to me as easily as he likes to believe- and even if he could, I assure you, you could not.” You could tell she was teasing you, trying to put you at ease. She was remarkably comfortable to be around, but for her to be here at your side before anyone else? 

It set you on edge. 

“I did not mean to lie to you, Allmother.” You apologized. 

“And you did not. I asked you to tell me if he did something to harm you- and while I’m sure there is a thing or two you have omitted,” you looked away guiltily, but she only continued, “it would seem that your interactions have been largely positive.” The Allmother dipped and rung the cloth again. “And I had you make no promises to tell me about positive encounters.” 

“Thank you, Allmother.” Her understanding was a relief, but the churning in your stomach did not subside. “Is he alright?” 

“He is unharmed.” She said, pointedly. 

“And my mother and father?” 

The Allmother hesitated for only a fraction of a second, but it was enough. 

“Your father was injured, though not as severely as you. He will recover just fine with time.” You watched as she placed the cloth back into the basin and set it gently on the ground beside the bed. Your head began to spin. 

“We owe your mother a great debt, child.” She took your hand, which had begun to shake. “Even before the attack she served Asgard well, and many lives were saved by her courage.” 

Your blood had run cold, emotions swelling uncontrollably within you. 

“I regret that we will never have the chance to re-pay her.” 

You broke. 

At first, you felt everything vanish. Every physical sensation, every emotion, every thought stopped all at once. They all drew back like the retreating tide, before crashing back in a tidal wave. 

Grief overtook you, sobs morphed into screams, and you clutched at your chest. The pain in your arm felt like nothing by comparison- you almost wished you could tear it open so that maybe it might shift your attention away from this pain. 

You had never felt something like this before. Losing something was one thing, but so much could be replaced- lost friends could be replaced with new ones, lost loves could be re-kindled elsewhere, lost opportunities could lead to new ones. It took the edge away, you realized. Made those losses easier to bear. 

But this? Your mother? She was someone you could not replace- someone you could never get back- and it tore you in two. 

You barely noticed the Allmother’s hands as they pulled you to her. She hushed and held you until the pain turned to emptiness, and your tears ran dry. She helped you to lay back down, stroking your hair softly. 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered. “I know how painful the loss of a parent can be.” 

You could say nothing. If exhaustion was what you had felt before, there were no words for this. 

“I need to see my father…” 

“I know.” 

The response sent another pang through you. “Can I see him? I am sure I’m well enough to walk.” 

The queen remained silent for a moment. 

“Child, do you know why you are being kept here?” 

You shook your head. You had speculated, certainly but you didn’t know. The Allmother rested her hand on your cheek, making sure your eyes met hers. For a moment you noted how warm her hands were-how effortlessly gentle and kind- but they still bore the same calluses as your mothers. Ones obtained from years of handling a sword. 

“I must first promise you that you will not be harmed. My husband can be overly reactive, but he is not deliberately cruel.” 

What?

“You have been charged with treason- for releasing our son.” Anger and sadness flickered behind her eyes. You could not speak. 

Confusion and disbelief bent your brow. “Releasing him?” 

Your confusion stiffened her, the anger bleeding through. Still, her voice remained soft and calm.

“This cell, child, was his. Now it would seem it is yours.” 

“No… I don’t…” You blinked, searching your memories. When you entered you had seen him seated outside the cell… the barrier to it was closed, with him on the other side. He had touched you, held you, he had been undeniably physically there so how could you have… 

Your heart skipped a beat. Could you remember when you had accidentally lowered the barrier? It had been before he had touched you, had it not? Was everything before that just a projection? But why? 

God of Mischief 

God of Lies

“He… he used me to gain his freedom…” 

How could you have been so stupid? After all that time of telling you that he could not show you where he was, that it would be too dangerous, that he didn’t want you there. Had it simply been a ploy to make you want it more? 

Loki had told you he was locked away, so why did you not question it when you saw him sitting there, free and unbound? 

“My son is a great many things.” The Allmother’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Foolish and arrogant being among them. He can be selfish, and blinded in pursuit of his goals.” Her words stung. Of course he was. How had you managed to fool yourself into thinking every story you had ever heard about him was only a story? That you, a woman who could barely call herself nobility, had become dear to him in little more than a week? The tears began to rise again. 

“But…” She continued. “When presented the chance to do as he pleased, he came to me, looking for help for you.” She did not smile, but held your eyes with unsettling intensity. 

“Had he not, I feel that neither you, nor I, nor Jane would be alive here and now.” 

“You were attacked?” You felt horrified. They had been so bold as to go after the Allmother herself? 

“They sought the Aether, which resides within the mortal woman.” She corrected, as if reading your thoughts. “I used all at my disposal to ensure they did not succeed- and that nearly included my life.” 

You pressed your eyes closed tight. An anger flickered in you, one aimed at no one in particular. Why could the Queen be saved but your mother could not? It hurt too much to speculate on what could have been. It would not bring her back. 

“I am glad you are safe, Allmother.” You said, your voice far more hollow than you had intended. She thankfully did not seem offended by it. Instead, she almost seemed to disagree with you. 

“Yes… Thank you child.” Her hand patted yours gently. “And I promise you will be safe as well. My Husband will not punish you for our son’s mistakes.” 

All you could do was trust she was right. You wanted nothing more than to leave, to go home and forget the palace. To go back far before you even came and prevent any of you from leaving. 

The image of the paper being consumed by flames carved an incredible guilt into you. You had betrayed her for someone who had then betrayed you. 

Perhaps a cell is where you belong. 

“I believe Loki showed you the weaving room, did he not?”

“He did.” You said, grateful for the change of subject- but now feeling guilty in a different way. “I’m sorry, I…” She cut you off with a wave of her hand. 

“Did he explain to you how it worked?” 

“I believe so.” 

The Allmother waited for you to continue. 

“From what I understand, there are threads that tie people to their fates. They cannot be seen, at least not by the normal person, but they exist all the same. That room is a place where those threads are gathered, and set into place.” 

She nodded. “In the tapestry. Once they are set there, they cannot change. Or, at least they should not be able to.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Something quite curious happened the night of the attack.” She said, almost too lightly. “A moment already set in time was changed.” 

“What?” You asked, astonished. “How?” 

She laughed. “I frankly do not know, and I suppose I never will.” 

“It wasn’t captured by the tapestry?” You still weren’t entirely clear how much it could show, but you were sure a moment such as that would be important enough to be preserved in the fibers, if not prominently featured. Was there something powerful enough to operate outside the threads of fate? 

“My child, there no longer is a tapestry. Whatever occurred that night did not just change fate, but it snapped the loom in two.” 

Chapter Text

By the time the Allmother left, any want to remain awake was gone. The dreamless sleep that had claimed you before seemed like a paradise. There you would not have to feel any of this. You could abandon the fear, anger, and pain that gnawed its way into you- and if you did not dream, you would not have to look at Loki. 

Of course, you were not that lucky. 

Before you even opened your eyes, you could feel the dream come into focus. Immediately, you knew what had happened.

How could he possibly  think you would want to see him? How could he possibly think you would be alright with him being here after all he had done? Did he simply not think you knew? Perhaps the Allmother had kept her conversation with you a secret. You did not know if she hoped you would forgive him- if you would take her words to heart- but simply not letting you die seemed to be a bare minimum in any relationship. 

Besides, what did it matter if he saved you from bleeding to death if his actions were only going to stick your head beneath the chopping block? 

“You’re alright…” It came as a sigh of relief. His voice made your hair stand on end. It felt too earnest, too gentle. You did not want those things from him. Not anymore. 

When your eyes opened, he was far closer than you had anticipated. You were seated in a familiar chair in his chambers. Loki knelt in front of you, pulling so hard at his fingers you heard each knuckle crack. He seemed tentative, uncertain if you would want to be held or touched, so you made it quite clear you did not. You could feel the hurt and betrayal in your own eyes, and hoped it tore a hole through him. 

Loki drew back slightly. “What’s happened?” 

“What’s happened?” You asked in disbelief. You pushed up from your chair, thankful the full brunt of the pain and exhaustion you suffered in the real world did not carry over here. “My mother is dead , and I am to be tried for treason .”Furious tears began to sting as they crowded your vision. “Because it would seem, I was fooled into releasing a prisoner.” You only just kept your voice from breaking. 

Loki quickly stood, trying to take your hand but you snatched it away. 

“My father won't hurt you. He hates me, but you have done nothing. The Allfather won’t lock you away for my crimes.” He sounded quite certain, which only made you angrier. 

“So you decided to gamble my life on it? How dare you?” You could not stop your voice from wavering this time. You did your best to clear your eyes but the tears came faster than you could wipe them away. “I can’t believe I was so stupid… How long were you planning on waiting before using me? Was this attack just a convenient opportunity, or did you have a hand in bringing them here?” 

Loki looked as if you had struck him across the face. “You think I did this?” 

“Give me one reason why I should think otherwise! You claimed to care about me, and I believed  you… I trusted you, I didn’t even hesitate to…” No. He wouldn’t get to know what you had done for him. You were now the only proof that such evidence ever existed. It made you a threat. 

“I saved your life !” he bit back. “My mother was nearly taken from me!” 

“And mine was!” You wanted to strike him so badly your arms ached. 

“So you assume it was by my hand?” The anger in his voice roiled to the surface. “Does it truly take so little for you to believe I am a monster again?” 

“I should never have let you convince me of anything to the contrary.” 

You watched his hands clench-his head shaking in disbelief as a bitter grin slid across his face. “Of course… because why would I ever be anything other than the villain in whatever little story you’ve spun up in your head.” He stalked towards you, but you didn’t move. Your eyes dared him to harm you- to prove you right. The way he looked at you made you almost certain he would. 

“If that is who you think me to be, then nothing I can do will change your mind. No number of promises or assurances will ever quiet the suspicions in your head, little one.” 

He was too close now, and you raised your arm, ready to strike him across the face- but he caught you by the wrist, gripping it tight. “I could have left. I could have taken whatever I pleased from Odin’s vault and left. I could have used the commotion to cut my father down where he stood, or banish my brother somewhere he could never be found.” His nostrils flared in anger. You tried to yank your arm back but he would not let go. “I could have tracked down the mortal girl and snapped her neck. I could have pried the Aether from her bones and taken whatever I wanted. Do you know what I could do with that power?” 

You looked at him, disgusted. “Is that meant to prove me wrong? To think that such things would even cross your mind…” 

Loki tore his hand from your wrist. “You have no idea what horror is. You have no idea what pain is, or fear. What you see when you look at me?” he scoffed “It’s nothing compared to what lies beyond the gilded walls of this realm.” His voice shook in a way you had not heard before. It was a fear so intense it became rage. You stepped back, but he followed. “I, however, do.” He growled, his voice lowering. “When I let go on the bridge, I hoped for death. I hoped I could be rid of this damnable realm. Rid of the Allfather, my brother and his shadow. Rid of this gilded cage I’ve been trapped in for a lifetime- kept like some ridiculous trophy. A tool for Odin to wield at his leisure.” Your heart raced. You wanted this dream over. You wanted him to cast you from it, to end this. “But I am never that lucky.” 

Loki finally took a step back, lip curled in disgust as he examined you. “You have no idea what I have suffered. You clearly do not care if what I have done was, in fact, a kindness. You need someone to blame, and so that will be me, will it?” 

“Don’t presume to know what…” You started, angrily- but he cut you off.

“I will presume whatever I wish!” He roared, so loud you felt yourself recoil. 

It echoed into nothingness for a few moments, as you stared at one another. Between you there seemed enough hurt and rage to tear down the palace itself. Perhaps even the whole of Asgard. 

Both of you wanted something so simple, you knew that- but neither of you could deign to give it. 

So you continued to build the wall between you brick by brick. 

“Did you hope for this before I arrived? Or did you simply see me and decide I was the tool you needed?” It was not a question you needed the answer to- it was just a dagger to twist. 

“I beleive it was when I realized you were too stupid to count to six propperly.” He mocked. 

“So late? I thought you were more masterful than that.” 

“You do not know what I have mastery of, I can assure you.” 

“Why? Because it would kill me? How tragic it would be for you to steal that privilege from your father.” You hissed. 

“That man is not my father.” 

Until those words, the volume between you had heightened- but these he spoke no louder than he would have were you casually sharing a meal. The rage, however, lingered- almost more frightening now that he seemed not to feel the need to put force behind it.

“I have always been nothing more than a sad little child they brought in from the cold.” He scoffed. “Odin was never my father, Frigga my mother, or Thor my brother. I was just a little trinket they carried around like any other. They spent my whole life deceiving me, filling my head with lies- and then dared call me a god of deception.”  

The muscles in Loki’s jaw flexed visibly as he clenched his teeth together. You narrowed your eyes. 

“I don’t understand.” You said, tentatively. 

His lips pressed into a tight line as he nodded. “I’m sure you don’t.” 

Wandering back to the far chair, he threw himself in it, unwilling to answer any further. You remained where you were, watching him. He stared back, and you held one another's gaze for quite a while. 

“It doesn’t matter. ” He finally hissed, irritated. “You are alive, and I am still caged. We are right back where we started.” 

“Lovely, so we’re both locked away, then? How accomplished you must feel.” You didn’t like how much you wanted to hurt him. How much you wanted your words to poison him- but it was not enough to stop you from doing so in the first place. 

“Do not test me, woman.” He growled. You hated it. 

“I will if you insist on behaving like a boy.”

He stiffened in his chair, leaning forward as he spoke, slowly and deliberately. “Then what. Is it. You want from me. Hm?” 

You nearly threw up your hands in exasperation. “I want you to apologize ! Do you truly see no wrong in what you’ve done? In manipulating me? Making me love you and then leaving me to die?” 

Loki’s jaw shifted, his tongue pressing hard against his teeth. He rested his head in his hands as a  bitter smile claimed his face once again. 

“Not the context in which I wanted to hear that, but I suppose it suits me.” He muttered to himself. Shifting to sit upright, he met your eyes. 

“I am not leaving you to die, because you will not die.” His tone was flat, calculated, a matter of fact. “Like I have said, the Allfather is not foolish enough to punish an innocent who had no idea what they were doing. Even if you believe I cannot guarantee that, I hope you will  believe that my mother will.” 

“Because she can stay the Allfathers hand.” 

“Yes.” 

You wandered over to the chair opposite him, and let your weight collapse into it. “So I will continue to be stuck with you, will I?” You said, rolling your eyes. 

“No, my lady, I don’t think you will be so lucky.” He laughed, but it was an unsteady sound. “The Allmother has interceded on my behalf perhaps one too many times. Odin’s patience wears thin, as does mine.” 

You felt a peculiar unease creep into your bones. If it was a joke, it was not a particularly good one - though neither of you were in good humor as it was. If he was serious, the casual way he spoke of his own death unsettled you. 

“You cannot truly believe that.” 

“Can I not?” he said, brow raised high. “He was quite ready to let me rot away in the dungeon’s for the remainder of my life. My mother managed to provide me with some comforts, but had to beg for him to even allow a projection of me about the palace. I assure you he would have been very content to never see my face again.” He did not smile this time, nor did he try to mask his discomfort with his usual sarcasm. “Unfortunately I seem to be particularly difficult to kill.” 

You studied him carefully. 

“Do you really wish to die so badly?” 

Loki merely laughed. 

“I mean it.” You scolded as he gave you an exasperated sigh. 

“No, I suppose I don’t.” he gave you a halfhearted smile. “But then again, what I do want seems to be eternally out of my reach- and what sort of existence is that?” 

“A fairly normal one.” You said, pointedly. 

“Then I want nothing of it.” 

The urge to smack him prickled at your skin once again. He angered you beyond words, but saddened you even more. 

Much of his behavior made sense in ways it had not before. It was no excuse for it, but often knowing something had an origin point made it easier to swallow. Still, so much remained unanswered. 

He had shared more with you in the last few minutes than he had in the last week; and you wondered if it was because he truly believed he was going to die. 

“So if you are not a Prince of Asgard, then who are you?” You pressed. 

“Why? Suddenly less interested, my lady?” 

When you glared at him he shrugged. “I am merely a Prince from elsewhere.” 

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that realm.” You mused. His laugh let a glimmer of pride bubble to the surface. 

“Damnable place.” He grinned. “Every time you think you’ve arrived, you’ve merely come up short.” 

“How terrible.” you said, feigning horror. “But truly, Loki, if you’re not of Asgard, then where? Vanaheim?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Only if it matters to you.” 

“Oh it does.” He said bitterly. “But you can already see that I’m a monster, so there’s no need to push it further.” 

You frowned. “You’re not a monster, just a bastard.” 

“I was unaware I could not be both.” 

“You do try, don't you?” 

“I am nothing if not persistent.” He said with a wink.

Peace settled between you. The fire crackled softly, blazing on as it always did- an illusion of perfection like everything else. You watched Loki with sadness. Was it simply because you had lost so much so recently that you hesitated to let him go? It at least played a part- but you also knew that, for better or worse, love was not so easily shaken.

“You’re not allowed to die.” You said, firmly. 

“I was not aware I needed your permission.” He replied, seemingly genuinely taken aback. 

“There are far too many things you’re not aware of.” 

Loki regarded you carefully, his eyes softening. 

“Would you miss me?” 

“Not at all.” You lied, as blatantly as possible. 

“Hmmm.” He hummed, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lips. He stood from his chair and approached you, moving slowly- step by step- without letting his eyes leave yours. 

“It sounds almost as if you care for me.” 

“A ridiculous assumption.” You said with a smile. You had lifted your feet to curl comfortably beneath you in your chair, arm on the armrest propping up your head. You felt so strangely relaxed. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He said, finally within reach. He let his fingers lift your chin ever so slightly- this thumb brushing gently along the line of your jaw. You leaned into him softly. 

He knelt beside you just as he had done when you arrived, setting his lips gently against your forehead. 

“Would you miss me?” You hummed.

“I would throw a party so grand they would see it from all the way in Helheim.” You laughed, and he placed a kiss on your nose this time. “But you will not die, so I need not send out invitations quite yet.” He added softly. 

“And nor will you.” You held firmly to his wrist, holding his gaze firmly. He returned it with a sad smile. 

“You need your rest, little one. I must send you on your way now.” 

“Must you?” You whined.

“Yes.” 

“Loki?” 

He chuckled, “Yes?” 

You hesitated for a moment. To give him what he sought seemed like surrender- but your pride be damned. What would it really gain you? Holding his blue eyes, you weren't sure you wanted whatever it was- and so you surrendered.

“Thank you. For not letting me die.”  

His eyes warmed. “And I am sorry. For lying to you.” 

“You will make it up to me later.” 

You felt his hand settle gently on your forehead, and the prickle of magic as he prepared to send you on your way. 

“I make no promises.” He said softly, before you found yourself cast back into the cell, blinded by walls of white. 

Chapter Text

You barely made it across the threshold of your quarters before your legs gave way. Were it not for the Allmother, you would have collapsed right then and there- but she held you upright with remarkable ease, keeping still until you found your footing again. 

She led you to the couch near the fireplace, lighting it with a flick of her wrist. The warmth was welcome, but it did nothing to stop the tremors that rocked your form. You allowed yourself to be lost in nothingness, as the pain and fear were too much to bear. 

The soft clink of a cup on the table beside you pulled your attention for just a moment, but you made no move to take it. 

“I would advise you drink it before it goes cold.” the Allmother said gently. She took a spot beside you, placing her hand on yours. “It will help you rest.” 

You shook your head. You didn’t want to close your eyes- fearing what nightmares may lay in wait. 

“You will rest.” She reprimanded. “You still have a great deal of recovery ahead of you, and I will not allow your father to lose two loved ones in such short a time. A parent should never outlive their child.” 

That stung. You had not thought of your father, the fear in you had been too great to consider anything other than the next second. You felt ashamed. The Allmother’s hand patted yours gently. 

“I must ensure that my husband and sons do not tear one another apart, but I will return to check on you before long. Promise me you will at least try and rest in the meantime.” 

“Yes my Queen.” 

Your voice was hollow, and listless. She looked at you sadly, but gave you a soft smile all the same. “Thank you, my child.”

The door shut firmly behind her as she left, and you were alone. You let your eyes linger on the fire, drinking in its colors, movement, and warmth. You submerged yourself in each crackle and hiss, and the way the heat made your face sting after too long. 

All a distraction.

You knew that. You knew that if you did not give yourself something to focus on, it would wander all the places you didn’t want it to be. To your mother and your father- to the moments you had felt your life would end. The pain in your arm nagged at you now that the adrenaline was beginning to subside. You wished it wouldn't, as you knew what would come after. 

You did not have the energy to cry again. 

Hesitantly, you reached for the cup that had been left at the small table beside you. A quick examination revealed it to be nothing more than tea, and you were grateful. Letting the aroma become your next focus, you slowly worked your way through the cup- hoping it would last you long enough that you would not be left with your mind until Frigga returned. 

________________________________

By the time Frigga returned to the throne room, things had only escalated. 

Thor seemed to be doing his best to physically divide his father and brother, but they paid him little mind. Their voices carried far down the hall, sending servants scurrying to corners of safety as quickly as possible. 

She could hear her husband’s words before she even passed through the door. 

“You are owed nothing! ” He roared. “You will not be praised for a modicum of decency after all you have done.” 

“All I have done? I protected our lands and our people from the impulsive actions of your golden son! And what did it earn me? Nothing but your reprisal.”

“Reprisal you earned when you decided to forfeit the lives of an entire realm.” 

Loki laughed bitterly “What wise words to hear from such a great conqueror.” 

“Do not test me, boy.” 

Thor cast his mother a worried glance as she stepped forward. 

“The girl is safe and well in her chambers.” She said brusquely. “Though she is not unharmed.” 

“Fear will mend.” Odin said dismissively. “It will not be the last time she is to face it.” 

Loki bristled, but the Allmother cut him off before he could speak. “Husband, she will be left alone. I will hear of nothing else.” 

“If you wish her to be alone, then she will remain alone. Her quarters will be her prison if that is what you wish.” 

“You’re still intent on punishing her? Or is it you think you have yet to punish me enough?” Loki growled. “Does it mean nothing to you that, were it not for her intervention and mine, your wife would be lost to us? What do you suspect would have happened has I not been there? If she hadn’t released me?” Loki glared. “Would you have been there to protect her?”

“She is not a child, she can protect herself.”  Odin snarled. 

“Ah yes, I thought exactly the same thing while I watched her dangle from that beast’s arm.” He snapped. “Didn’t you?” 

“Loki.” Frigga cautioned. He relaxed a bit at her behest, lowering the volume of his voice. 

“Forgive me mother, I forgot they wouldn’t know. They weren’t there.” 

“You are not the only who cares for mother, Loki.” Thor reached out to his brother but Loki pulled sharply away. 

“Don’t patronize me.” His jaw was tight, and he snapped his attention back to Odin. “You know, you should be thanking me.” He said bitterly “Thanking her! But here you stand, lording over us all. Do you truly hate me so much that you would punish her as well?” 

“She released a prisoner from our dungeons, her punishment will be the result of her own doing.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? That she deserves it?”

“It is what she deserves for being foolish enough to trust you.” Odin snapped. “It is what she deserves for committing an act of treason while we were left vulnerable! Such things cannot be allowed to go unpunished!” 

Loki scoffed, but before he could unleash the volley of insults that begged to be thrown, Frigga held up her hand. He held still. 

“Husband, I ask that you consider carefully.” She said firmly. “Our son saved both her life and mine. He could easily have fled, but he used his chance at freedom to come to the defense of us. Of our people.” 

“I will not have…” Odin raised his voice but Frigga was not deterred, continuing over him. 

“Keep them contained in the palace until your temper has settled, at the very least. Their heads will not remove themselves while you wait.” Her tone had grown sharp as daggers, 

“You would have them wander about, unguarded after what they have done? Have you lost your mind?” 

“I would ask you the same.” The Allmother responded, voice deathly calm. 

The two stared at one another for a time, warring silently-neither willing to yield. The King turned his attention to his younger son, sizing him up slowly. 

“If you are truly so certain of her innocence, then you admit to your own guilt.” Loki did not respond, but Odin was unbothered. “You seem to care a great deal about preserving her life- so I will put her life in your hands.” 

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “What is it you want from me?” 

“I want you gone from my sight.” His voice was devoid of emotion. 

“Ever charming, Allfather.” Loki hissed. “Do you hope I will kill her? Or perhaps that she will kill me?”

Thor’s eyes caught his brother’s. They issued a clear warning.

Anger such as this had become rare for the eldest Odinson-  and Loki knew better than to push his luck. Especially when he held Mjolnir in hand. 

“I see now I let my Queen cloud my judgment. I was far too lenient with you, Loki.” Rage boiled in the Allfather’s chest.

“It took nothing short of banishment to bring your brother to his senses. Perhaps you require the same. Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson.” He growled.

Loki’s blood boiled over. His jaw set tight. “Far be it for me to question your wisdom, oh mighty King.” His words came out smooth and silvered; but dripping with venom. “But is that not what you have already tried? You have done nothing but punish me, and yet you still seem not to realize that I am much harder to break.” 

“Loki.” Thor warned. He was ignored. 

“Do you intend to humiliate me, Allfather?” He hissed, stalking closer to the King. “Throw me in the dungeons? Strip me of my name and title? Cast me out onto another world?” Loki stopped just short of the dias, his chin raised high. He stretched out his arms tauntingly. “If you insist on being so repetitive I would be delighted to oblige.” 

Thor called his name in warning once more, but the words didn’t reach his ears. The blood pounding in them had cut away all else. “As with any trophy of conquest” he continued “you are free to do with me as you please, are you not? But if you intend to bore me to death, a beg you at least consider the axe.” He snipped bitterly. “Save us both the pain.” 

“You will do as I command!” Odin’s voice boomed; a crack cutting across the air as Gungnir struck hard against the floor. Loki flinched but did not move, his glare daring the Allfather to strike him. “You will be no more than a guard, a servant bound to a prisoner until I have no further need of her.” Odin’s gaze was cold, unflinching. “Or you.” 

“Father, you cannot be serious.” Thor interjected. 

“I assure you I am. If he wishes to rot at her side, so be it. I have no patience left for him.” 

A satisfied grin crept across Loki’s face. “There you are.” He whispered to himself. “There is the Mighty Odin that carved his way across the nine.” His voice began to rise with smug satisfaction. “The pathetic excuse for a man who took a child for a tool.” The words flew out, his eyes flickering with rage. “Well let me tell you, father ; your legacy will be nothing compared to what I will leave behind. I will be exactly what you raised me to be- a worthless tool to enforce your will. The villain you pretended to love.” A smile began to tease at his lips, but Odin cut him off sharply.

“I care not what you think. You are no longer a Prince. You are no longer my son.” 

Frigga stormed forward, clearly ready to give him a piece of her mind, but once again he cut her off.” 

 Loki Laufison ,” he growled. “From this day forward you will serve as no more than her prison guard.” 

“What, do you not fear the monster will kill your precious captive?” Loki snapped bitterly.

“Then do it! It would be a favor to me, boy .” 

Loki tensed, and the Allfather seemed to take a twisted joy from it.

“Kill her, Loki.” He taunted. “ Take your daggers and get it over with. Anything short would be a waste of my time.” Odin stood, his face stone; every threat that was carved Loki’s stance mirrored in his own.

Silence hung in the hall for a few moments, but as expected, Thor could not endure it. 

“Father, if you were to remand her into my care…” 

“No.” He snapped, not taking his eyes from Loki. “She will be his responsibility- and if either steps so much as a toe out of line, you will both find your lives forfeit.” 

“Oh I cannot wait.” The young prince scoffed. “Do you think I could wear something nice on the day of my execution? Or would you prefer I look a defeated mess?” 

“Cause no trouble and you will not have to find out.” 

“Tell me, who decides what qualifies as ‘trouble’? I presume that would be you, Allfather? I am sure that will in no way be wielded against me.” 

“Father, at least consider placing her under the watch of her own family. Surely her father would see to it that she causes no harm.” Thor pleaded, desperate to end the arguing before it went too far. 

“I see you fear I will kill her as well, brother.” Loki grimaced. 

“Loki-”

“ENOUGH.” 

The Allfather’s voice was loud enough to shake what remained of the pillars in the hall. “Both of you be gone from my sight!” 

Loki stood frozen for a moment, trying to stifle the disbelief and anger on his face.

“As always,” he said snidely, “It’s been an absolute pleasure, my King.”  He had no intention of listening to Odin for a moment longer than he had to. He turned on his heels defiantly, storming away before the Allfather could get in another word. Odin turned away as well, facing back at what remained of his throne. 

Thor lingered to press his luck. 

Keeping his voice soft and low, he pleaded with his father.

 “ If you were just to remanded her into my care I could…” 

Odin whirled around in an instant- he would have none of it. 

“You will leave, NOW.”  Thor watched as a rage seared in his father’s eyes, the likes of which he had not seen since he had been cast out from Asgard.  

His mother offered him a reassuring nod, and although reluctantly; he turned to follow as quickly as he could after his brother. 

Chapter Text

When the door opened again, you didn’t bother to look up- the hovering silence let you know exactly who it was. 

Loki lingered there for far longer than was comfortable, both of you unwilling to make the first move- but you could almost feel his irritation growing as the seconds passed. 

Good.  

Mild discomfort was the least he could endure for what he had done- but his patience wore out before long. 

“ Say something.” 

“What is it you would like me to say, your highness?” You replied, your eyes not moving from the fire. Your voice came calm and smooth- surprising you as much as it did him. It created the barest illusion of confidence, which was as close as you would get ot the real thing. 

“You’re angry with me.” 

Of course you were angry with him! Had the possibility that your terror would give way to fury not crossed his mind? You wanted to scream- to yell until your face turned blue- to hurl your cup at his head and demand he leave the room and never return. 

It would do no good, however. You knew by now it would only give him the chance to absolve himself of what he had done. Outright anger was a punishment, one he could endure, and preferred to simply get out of the way. He knew when your anger passed, you would become soft with him; forgive him. Things could continue on as if he had done nothing more than some passing sleight. You had no intention of providing him that option.So instead, you collected yourself for a moment, breathing deep- but not bothering to make your expression pleasant. 

“Of course not, sire. The excitement of the day has tired me, that is all.” 

You knew calm was much more frightening than anger, and the honorifics would carve a hard line between you. It would hurt him, and you wanted it to. That want was enough to pull your gaze from the flames. 

“Do not lie to me.” He warned. 

Though his hands remained unclenched, every other part of him seemed to have tensed. You could not hide your satisfaction. 

His anger did little to unsettle you now. What could he do? Threaten your life? As far as you were concerned you had already narrowly escaped the finality of death twice- what was a third time to you? 

The way he stalked towards you felt almost comical. 

“If you intend to torment me, so be it- but do not leave me uncertain as to why.” he snapped. 

Your eyes narrowed in anger. “Forgive me, my prince but I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do not mock me, either.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

You nearly leapt from your skin when his hand clasped your jaw tightly. How quickly you had forgotten he was not merely an illusion anymore. He forced you to meet his eyes as they burned no less brightly than the fire. “I know plenty well what you dream of.” 

You could not tell if that was meant to be a threat. You could not help the way your brow quirked- and Loki tightened his grasp. With a wince, your hand flashed up to knock his away, only just barely managing to do so. It did not come without consequence, however. You could feel the places where his nails had scraped against your skin. It stung. 

You hope your glare would set him aflame. 

“Are you quite done?” You bit back, fed up with the game at last. “Or are you not satisfied yet?” Though your legs shook, you stood up, forcing him a step back to give you the room. “Perhaps you could toss me back into a cell with the other prisoners and see how long it would take them to eat me alive. Or would you prefer to play with my life more directly, my lord? I’m sure the fountain in the gardens would do quite nicely if you prefer watching the life drain from my eyes.” Though your voice broke, your face remained steady- twisted by the hurt, anger and fear that had nearly consumed you over the past days. 

Loki’s face took on a grim pallor- and you were sure this was the first time you had seen him look completely horrified. 

“Does that disgust you, my Prince?” You pressed, approaching him as froze in place. “You must forgive me, I thought you wanted to see me die.” 

His fingers wrapped around your wrist, digging in hard enough to bruise as he tried to keep you from advancing further. “How dare you.” He hissed. 

“How dare I?” The words devolved into spiteful laughter. 

“Do you think for a moment I enjoyed that?” Loki had begun to yell, his anger boiling over. You held his eyes, almost daring him to strike you. 

“I assumed your silence and inaction meant you were enjoying the show.” 

“You are alive are you not?” 

“Thanks, in no small part, to your mother!” 

“I would not have let him hurt you!” 

“So when did you intend to stop him, Loki?” You felt him tense as you at last spoke his name. “Was it before, or after they brought the sword down?” 

The memory was so fresh you could not fend off the shaking of your limbs. You cursed the tears that forced their way from your eyes, and the strength that seemed to leave you- dropping you to the floor on your knees. Though he still held your wrist tightly above your head, the remainder of your body had given up. 

“You promised me he had no interest in taking my life… you promised me that I would not be harmed…” 

I-” 

“You did nothing! Nothing at all!” Your shoulder began to ache, and you tried to wrench your hand from his grip before you were left with no fully functioning arms. 

Loki released you, taking a step back. 

Again, you were encapsulated by a silence that was only punctuated by the crack of the fire.  You forced back the tears, refusing to let your own sadness be what broke the silence. 

“I underestimated Odin’s cruelty.” He finally said. “I should not have done so- I know him better than that, and it put you in harm's way.” 

It was not an apology, not as such-which angered you- but you supposed it was the best you would likely get from him. Somehow that knowledge only made it worse. He crouched down beside you, taking your chin in his hand -gently this time. 

When your eyes met his, they were pleading. “You cannot truly believe- after everything -that I would want to see you harmed.” 

You weren’t sure what you believed. 

Over the last few days it had become very clear just how much he had hidden from you- and how dangerous those things could become. Yet as you looked into his eyes, you felt the familiar feeling that had plagued you so often. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to feel like his words meant something, and that perhaps you had simply misunderstood. 

So much had been lost to you, could you really survive losing any more? 

Your mother was gone, your father was far away, and you would likely never see those you grew up beside ever again. Without Loki, you would have nothing to hold to- to ground you as your world continued to collapse around you. 

Too many fears vied for your attention. Fear, grief, and anger all had swelled so aggressively that you had no will to fight the steady blue of his eyes. 

You knew, then and there, that were you to trust him, you would be making a choice to ignore the warnings that had stood your hair on end. The warnings that had nearly led you to your death- but you had nothing left without him, and you weren’t sure you could survive this alone. It felt like a curse

“What I believe does not matter. Not anymore. I’m sure its only a matter of time before the Allfather calls for my head once again, and he will not allow anyone to interfere.” 

“I promise you, my mother will not allow him to consider it. And even if he were able to somehow convince her, he would have to find you first.” The severity in his eyes was convincing. “I will not let him.” 

You wanted to argue; to ask how he would manage such a thing, or how he could be so confident after today- but you knew he was too stubborn. No argument you could raise would convince him of anything, and he would not let the issue drop until he was sure you were convinced. 

The last glimmers of resistance faded from your eyes as they fell away from his. 

“I understand, my Prince.” 

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line, displeased with the distance between you, but thankfully he seemed to realize now was not the time to press the issue. 

“You need rest.”

“Yes.” You agreed with a nod of your head.  The sun was still high, but you could not stand to exist in this day any longer. Everything in your body and mind was painful- and without a doubt your dreams would be just as uncomfortable- but you would do anything to let it stop for now. 

Hooking his arm around your waist, he lifted you to your feet. You offered no protest, and let him support you as you made your way to the bedroom. 

You had pictured the moment he first physically entered your chambers quite differently. This dismal scenario had never once entered into your fantasies. 

The contrast between the passionate and sweeping vignettes you had envisioned and how you were left now, barely mobile and half carried across the threshold, was comical- and as much as you tried to stifle a laugh, it slipped out all the same. 

Your chest shook as silent laughter mingled with tears. 

How pathetic. 

How ridiculous.

Loki quickly hurried your pace, lowering you to sit on the bed before he knelt before you, his hands moving to check your arm. He was still far too focused on the task at hand to notice the nature of your tears had changed. 

“Where does it hurt?” He asked, his tone still more serious than concerned. You pushed his hands away. He looked confused until he realized the tears on your face didn’t seem to stem from pain. 

Physical pain, at least. 

He flashed quickly between amusement and anger before settling into irritation. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You laughed. 

“I cannot tell if you are mocking me or if you’ve lost your mind.” 

“Can it not be both?” 

With a sigh, Loki stood, stepping towards your bathroom. “I will run you a bath. You will take it, you will eat, and you will sleep.” 

“Yes, my Prince.” you replied, openly mocking this time. He stiffened, but did not turn back around. 

The moment he was out of sight, your laughter stopped. The emptiness and silence allowed the desperate ache to fill your chest once more. The last time you had sat here in this room, your mother had still been alive, your father had been just a room away, and your worries had been so few. You had been foolish to think that all was well. You had been naive to think that nothing could harm you here. 

All the stories you had heard about the God of Mischief- all the warnings and terrified whispers- had vanished from your mind the very moment he showed you a modicum of kindness. You had always considered yourself much wiser than that, yet something about the idea you might have caught his eye- that maybe he had found a gentle spot in his heart for you- or that perhaps you could match him in wit had been so intoxicating. It had simply been part of the adventure to you, and it had left you feeling secure in ways you never should have. 

Now you were here- stripped of everyone, and everything you had when you arrived- yet you still couldn’t manage to lay the blame fully on his shoulders. Guilt plagued you in ways you wished you could push aside, but your mind could do nothing but remind you: this is your fault. You did this to your family and to yourself.

You are trapped. 

___________________________________________________

You did not protest when Loki insisted on staying by your side as you bathed- he had already seen all there was to see. 

He seemed to worry that if he left you alone for even a moment you might drown yourself- and it was hard to convince yourself he was wrong. The weight of the water seemed to soothe some of the tension in your heart, and admittedly, it was comforting not to be alone. 

You watched him from where you were- buried as deep in the warm water as you could be without covering your nose. He had, in turn, watched you for quite a while, until he seemed to grow tired of whatever strange staring match you had begun. 

Since he had not bothered to drag in a chair for himself, he sat propped up against the wall- arms folded across his chest as he let his head lean back and his eyes close.  His hair fell back, rebelling against its meticulous styling as the steam from the bath filled the room. You watched his chest rise and fall slowly- the small ways he adjusted to make himself comfortable- and you wondered how many times he had slept like this. Though his cell had been furnished with a bed, you had no doubt it had been empty at the start. There had to have been a great many nights he had spent on the floor like this. It almost made you pity him. 

With a sigh, you pulled your head up from the water- careful not to disturb him. Resting your arms on the side of the tub, you scrutinized him. The space beneath his eyes was dark and sunken- his shoulders drooping far lower than you were accustomed to. Loki was not someone who was often - or truly ever- relaxed. 

“Is there something you need?” he asked dryly, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“Loki, why are you here?” 

The smallest movement of his lips betrayed the relief he felt as you used his name once more.

“Because I would prefer not to have to drag your corpse from the bath later.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You know full well that’s not what I mean.” 

“Indulge me, my lady.” He groaned. “Be more specific.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Why did you come to my quarters?” 

Loki’s brow furrowed and he opened one eye, scanning you- unsure if you were being serious. “So that I could be sure you were in one piece.”