#loki post

But she faces it with her head held high and takes none of it, delivering her account of the coup honestly and clearly.

She will make a great queen someday, and I can see by the sparkle in his eye that Odin recognizes this too.

In the end, the evidence against Audunn is too damning, and he is sentenced to death, to be carried out in two days time. It comes a shock to no one, except maybe him, and he meets the verdict with false claims of injustice and conspiracy. He has to be dragged from the courtroom.

Y/n watches him go, flinching slightly when he gives her a look of such hatred, I can feel it in my own bones. Thor — the dutiful fiancé — shields her from Audunn’s view.

After we are dismissed, Y/n disappears, and I resist the urge to go looking for her. She probably wishes to be on her own, and I have no right to offer her comfort, anyway. But fate, it seems, has other plans, and a few hours later, I find her sitting in the gardens, absently staring at a light pink flower.

I have to say her name twice before she notices my presence. She looks up, blinking as if working herself out of a daze.

“Oh, hi Loki,” she murmurs, staring at my shoulder rather than my face.

I’ve never seen her like this. The Y/n I know has always had a bite to her, a spark of passion. But the woman before me may as well be a shell of Y/n, for all the light that is in her eyes.

I’m at a complete loss for what to do.

So, without thinking, I conjure a bottle of wine and hold it out to her, sitting next to her on the bench.

She looks between me and the bottle, and then the clouds in her eyes break and she gives a soft laugh. She takes the bottle and drinks deeply, clutching it to her chest when she’s finished. “We cannot solve all our problems with alcohol.”

I try to study her inconspicuously, still concerned for her state of mind. “Yes, but it can take the edge off.”

She chuckles more freely, taking another long drink. “When I am queen, that shall be the cornerstone of my domestic policy — your children might be starving, but here, have something to drink! It’ll take the edge off.” Then, with a noise between a laugh and a sob, she forces the bottle back into my grasp and drops her head into her hands. “Oh my gods. What went wrong, Loki? How did we mess up our lives this badly?”

I shake my head vehemently. I know I’ve screwed up, but she’s done nothing of the sort. “You’ve not done anything wrong.”

“Haven’t I?” She raises her head, and when she looks at me, I can see her eyes brim with tears. “I fell in love with you when I knew I would belong to someone else.”

I furrow my eyebrows, confused as to why she’s upset about something so out of her control. “You didn’t choose to—”

She raises a challenging eyebrow. “I cheated on my husband with you.”

Does she regret that? I try again to stop her self-berating. “That was my fault, I—”

She begins to talk over me, her voice growing more hysterical with every word. “I let an innocent servant be beaten half to death because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. My people were massacred while I relaxed in the bath—”

“—Y/n please, stop this. It isn’t—”

She refuses to be consoled. “I’ve sent my husband to his death. I looked him in the eye and condemned him! And I will never love Thor. He doesn’t deserve that. I’ve taken away his chance at happiness with Jane, I—my chest hurts — I can’t breathe.” She gasps through panicked sobs.

Without thinking, I place the bottle on the ground and gather her in my arms. She clutches at my shirt, shaking and gasping in shallow breaths. We hold onto each other too tightly, like if we relax even slightly, the other will crumble apart.

“Okay,” I try to soothe, my own voice wavering with worry. “Okay, deep breaths.” We draw in air and exhale together. I bring my hand to the back of her head and draw what I hope are calming lines with my thumb. After a few minutes, she regains control of her breathing and leans further into me, visibly exhausted. I lay my cheek against her hair, grateful that she seems to be through the worst of it but knowing she’s not out of the woods yet — I’ve had enough panic attacks to know how volatile they can be. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know.”

As gently as I can, I stand, pulling her with me. “Come.”

She doesn’t protest when I transport us inside her chambers, though she does look a bit sick at all the movement. I walk her to her bed then bring her a glass of water — something I probably should have provided her with initially, instead of the wine.

“I’m sorry,” she nearly whimpers, sagging against the pillows.

Immediately, I shake my head. “There’s no need to apologize. I…”

Don’t do it, I beg myself. Don’t give in…it will only hurt you both. You are undeserving of her love, and probably incapable of giving it back.

But I have always been selfish. I am unable to stop myself from repeating her words to me from a few days ago, showing just how deeply I have taken them to heart. “I am always on your side.”

This seems to calm her. She sighs contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut. Within seconds, she’s asleep.

I know I should leave. But instead of walking out the door like I planned, I find myself settling on the couch facing her bed. Now that Y/n is settled, I take notice of the exhaustion in my own body — sleep frequently eludes me, too. And, without meaning to, I drift off to sleep.

Y/n’s POV

I awake to the soft peals of bells in the distance and the first rays of the sun. For the first time in while, I feel rested. I did not wake once, it seems, and slept soundly from afternoon to early morning.

There’s a figure lying on my couch.

Loki is too long for the small furniture, so he sleeps curled up, wrapped in his cape. He looks so innocent and peaceful that it makes my stomach hurt, because I know those qualities will flee once he wakes. He’s gone through so much. And yes, a good part of it is by his own hand, but still, I ache with the desire to see him well-cared for and happy and free of the weight he keeps himself under.

As if feeling my gaze, he stirs. He stretches out, groaning softly, then sits up straight, blinking to adjust to the limited light.

We stare at each other for a moment before I gather the courage to speak. “Good morning.”

I feel unsure.

How many times had we woken up together, in much more intimate contexts than this?

But this moment…this moment feels dangerous. It teeters on the edge of something familiar, something we could so easily slip back into….

He swallows, holding my gaze with equal gravity.

Then, he breaks it. “I’m sorry. I should not have stayed.” He gets up, and moves to the door.

But I am not ready to let this moment go, and I call after him. “No—I don’t mind. Please, stay.”

He looks at me over his shoulder, uncertainty in his eyes and…hope?

Unsure what exactly compels me to move, I rise from the bed. I take my time walking to him, fearful that if I move too quickly or too loudly, all this will fade away. When I reach him, I stop just short of our shoes touching.

The words I feel so strongly come out as no more than a breath. “I want you to stay.”

Slowly, hesitantly, and with all the force of a brush of air, he takes my hand in his. “We cannot fall back into old habits.” But even as he says this, he steps closer, bringing up his fingers to twine in the ends of my hair.

I’m unable to stop my free hand from running up his chest. He feels so familiar, so solid, so safe. “We would be terrible people to do so.” Somehow, my lips are now only centimeters from his.

His grip tightens in my hair. “I wish I cared about that.” My fingers brush against his neck, and his lips touch mine.

A sharp knock echoes through the room.

I jump, and Loki closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine. “Send them away.”

“Yes,” I agree, reluctantly releasing him from my hold and pushing him out of sight. As I walk to my chamber door, I have to blink a few times to steady myself.

Am I really going to do this? Aren’t I strong enough to stop myself?

Do I want to stop myself?

I pull open the door, to reveal a smiling Thor.

Oh gods.

“Thor,” I half-gasp, the excitement and peace I felt just a seconds ago shattering on the ground. “I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you.”

He eyes my rumpled dress—yesterday’s dress—with amusement. “I can see that.”

I feel heat gather in my cheeks. “Yes, uh…I was so exhausted after yesterday’s events that I fell asleep in the afternoon and only just woke up a few moments ago. I should call Ragna and dress for the day.”

“Perhaps that would be wise,” he agrees politely. “And after, would you be so kind as to join me in the dining hall? I would enjoy sharing breakfast with you.”

“Oh.”

Because he’s my fiancé.

Fiancé’s spend time together.

Former lovers do not.

Oh, I am awful.

I force a too-sunny smile to my face. “Yes, I would like that as well. I shall be there shortly.”

He bows, and brings the back of my hand to his lips for a kiss.

I’m the worst. The shame makes me feel ill.

I close the door. As much as I dread doing so, it is Loki I must send away. Because he is not my intended.

Gathering my resolve, I turn to search for him.

But he is already gone.

A/n Hey everyone, sorry for the month in between posts! I don’t know why, but I just could NOT get myself to write this chapter! But I finally figured out what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, so here ya go!

Comments, likes, and reblogs mean the world to me! Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list. 

Masterlist

Link to next part: To be posted

I sigh, sinking deeper in my chair, the tasteless bread falling from my fingers. Ragna, attentive as always, takes this as an opportunity to put a bowl of bright red fruit in front of me.

“Please eat, My Lady.” Her care for me is what ultimately leads to me taking a bite. Bland, but I continue nibbling in order to ease her worry. In truth, though, I do not anticipate having much of an appetite until a significant number of my fears are assuaged.

“Have you any word from Odin or Thor? Or my father? It has been over a day since they departed.”

Frigga shakes her head. “With regret, I have nothing to report.”

Under the table, my leg begins to shake. “I hope they’re alright and successful in putting an end to the rebellion. My people cannot survive many more hours of this slaughter.”

Frigga leans forward, queenly authority washing over her words. “As a wife and mother, I worry for Odin and Thor. But as a queen, I have little concern. Asgard’s army has defeated much more formidable foes than your husband. I have no doubt this will result in a victory for Asgard and for your people.”

Her words and the conviction behind them do calm me slightly.

She sees this, and seems to seize on the opportunity. “But let us talk of lighter things. It has been over three hundred years since I last saw you. Tell me—how has your life been since your wedding?”

I exhale heavily without meaning to.

I have no desire to tell Frigga about the abuse from my husband and the scorn from Court, nor the stark isolation I feel nearly every day. So I decide to gloss over as much as I can, and relay only the good parts of my life in Alfheim.

“Our summers in Alfheim are very mild—barely hotter than spring. It makes for long, lovely days full of picnics and outdoor games, time on the lake, then perhaps a dance or two under the stars. Alfheim thrives in the night, you know. Our castle, our clothing, even our people are the most beautiful in the moonlight. Connecting with the people of Court has been a bit of a struggle, but the common folk seem to love me, even if they do not know me, not really….but they throw flowers outside my carriage when I visit the towns, and even named a library after me in the main village. It’s nice to feel that sense of community, even if I cannot be around it all the time.” At this, I look at my hands, not wanting Frigga to see the sadness in my eyes. Because, despite the clearly awful parts of my existence away from Asgard, there are bright, shining, beautiful moments in my life in Alfheim. These glimmers are what would get me through the day.

And they are what tear my heart apart now as I think of my homeworld being ripped to shreds by civil war and brutality.

Frigga hears some of what I leave unsaid. She squeezes my hand gently and places the lightest of touches under my chin, encouraging me to look up at her. “My dear, do not be saddened. Here you will find community in those closest to you, there is no need to be so isolated.” My heart, which had fluttered in hope at her words, quickly falls with her next. It seems everyone, even those I love and trust, see me as just a means to produce an heir. “It took Odin and I many centuries to conceive. And when nature failed us, another child came to us in the most unconventional, but no less miraculous, way. Alfheim lacks progressiveness, but Asgard suffers no such fault. In your own time, you and my son will produce the most wonderful child, I know that deep in my heart. But until then, Asgard will wait patiently. Do not let the fear of retribution mar your time here. And do not let your heart be weighed down with a desire unmet—everything happens in its time.”

Loki’s POV

The stone of the wall bites into my fingers as I grip it with unwise force.

Around the corner my mother—my very own mother—encourages the woman I once loved in her future quest to have a child with my brother.

A bitter taste grows in my mouth.

And although I know Y/n does not want to marry Thor—anyone could see that in the way she protested—there is real pain in her eyes.

Pain that I have caused.

I do not know if she aches with the longing for a child. But it’s not a difficult task to surmise the isolation and ridicule she has no doubt been subject to for the last two and a half centuries has weighed on her.

Preventing conception was her decision, yes, but I was the one who made it possible. I put the magic on her, effectively ruining any chance she ever had at being accepted in her home. And if she ever did want a child, but found herself unable, well, I bear the blame for that hurt, too.

It seems no matter what I do, I cannot help but destroy the lives of those I’m supposed to love.

I was so close to entering the dining hall and joining them for breakfast—the first meal I would have shared with my mother in over seven months—but I had heard the end of their conversation before making my presence known.

It’s better that way.

I do not know how well I would have reacted, had I been in their company upon hearing the conversation between Y/n and my mother.

The sound of trumpets interrupts my thoughts, and I teleport away mere seconds before Y/n races by.

Y/n’s POV

The news of Asgard’s victory is unfathomably welcome.

When I hear it, I can’t help but fall to my knees, releasing a shout of joy and thanks to Odin himself, a man I, in fact, really don’t care for.

Thor quickly escorts me away for what he calls a ‘debrief’, but I can see by the set of his shoulders it is more of a transition into spending one-on-one time in our new capacity as fiancés. And while nerves and resentment rattle my stomach, I follow him willingly, eager to hear of the path to victory and how Alfheim fares now.

He wastes little time. The moment we are in the privacy of the gardens, he speaks.

“Your father is alive and well, do not fear. His loyal guardsmen managed to keep Audunn’s forces at bay, though I fear it would been a different outcome if we had not arrived when we did. You did well getting to us so quickly.”

The compliment is unexpected and, I feel, undeserved. “All I really did was relay a message. I am quite thankful, then, to you, your father, and your army for coming so quickly to Alfheim’s aid. Surely this will cement positive diplomatic relations for years to come.”

A strange look crosses through his eyes as he looks away from me, choosing instead to squint into the sun. “Spoken like a politician. I see you learned much in your time away.”

I catch the edge to his voice. “You do not approve?”

“I didn’t say that, I only mean that it is…unusual in Alfheim for women to be so involved.”

I fight the urge to scoff bitterly. “I wouldn’t have called myself involved—Father and Audunn would have none of that—but I did pick up some tricks and knowledge in my three hundred years there.”

There’s a slight pause. In that pause, Thor seems to steel himself. I know instantly that I will not like whatever he has to say next. “I wanted to tell you, ah—while your father was successfully restored to the regency, we were able to capture and imprison Audunn rather than having to resort to killing him on the field. He is here, in the dungeons, and will stand trial tomorrow.”

My blood runs cold. “Here? In the castle? Why didn’t you kill him?!” The words come out in breathless gasps, and Thor takes a step towards me in concern.

“You need not fear, Lady Y/n, he is securely guarded. He poses no threat to your father or your people any more.”

Yes. I swallow. But now that we are in the same place once again, I worry of the threat he poses to me.

Thor attempts to continue our walk with lighter conversation, but I don’t pay him much mind. All I can focus on is the terrifying reality that, as long as Audunn lives, my own life is in danger.

Loki’s POV

When the moon is high in the sky and the air has turned crisp, I acknowledge the reality that I will get no sleep tonight.

Groaning, I fling the covers from my body and exit my warm bed, dressing quickly. As soon as I’m decent, I exit my chambers, heading straight for the library. I have plenty of books in my room, but nothing I haven’t already read. The library is likely to have a variety of unexplored distractions.

I enter the vast library and turn left, heading for the history section—one of my favorites. I round the corner and am met with a sharp gasp and the sound of clattering books as Y/n jumps back, hitting a shelf.

Surprise and self-loathing mingle within me. She’s terrified of me.

Without really deciding to, I take a step back, showing my lack of intent to harm her. “I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you.”

She exhales, lowering the shaking hands that had come to grip her stomach. “N-no, it is I who should apologize. I….thought you were someone else.”

I raise my eyebrow, buying time as I calculate the truth of her statement. She does seem to be relaxing. Now all that remains is the faint hint of embarrassment in her features. She even offers me a small smile, one that I find unexpectedly welcome. I decide to believe her. “Don’t worry about it. I understand your nerves must be frayed, given all that you’ve been through.” Flashes of what she must have experienced in the past four days come to the forefront of my mind, unbidden. Handled roughly, a dirty jail cell, a hit that would explain the coloring on her lower jaw, the fear as she sneaks through the castle, praying she goes unnoticed—

“Are you alright?”

There’s a note in her voice that suggests some of her apprehension has returned, and I can guess why. My body has gone completely rigid, my fists clenched tightly, and I’m sure I’ve just fixated on the nearest object with a death glare—I can only hope I didn’t direct it at her.

I try to recover the moment. “I’ll get those books.”

She hurriedly drops to the ground, grabbing novels at random. “Let me, Your Highness, I’m the one who—”

I sink next to her and smirk, for some reason desperate to dissolve this strange uncertain air between us. “Last night you barge into my chambers unannounced and tonight we’re back to the formalities?”

She studies me for a moment, looking quite perplexed. Then, she exhales a shaky bark of a laugh. “I suppose so.”

Fair enough.

I straighten, beginning to alphabetize the books and put them back in their proper place. She follows suit, working beside me in silence. I don’t miss the glances she gives me when she thinks I’m not looking. The looks are full of uncertainty, full of trepidation—she has no idea where we stand. For that matter, neither do I.

But there’s no use in finding out, the snide voice within me remarks. She’s engaged to your brother. You will have no chance to know her again as you did once, long ago.

But still, as since the moment she burst through the throne room doors, I war with myself.

I do not want to love her. I have no claim to her. Pursuing her would only lead to heartbreak, and I fear I cannot take any more.

If I were smart, I would push her away as I do everyone else.

I should push her away.

“Why are you in the library so late?” Her voice, stronger now, clouds my head once more and pulls me into conversation.

I have no desire to detail or even acknowledge my crippling nightmares, so I turn the question back on her, hoping to save myself the humiliation of admitting weakness. “I could ask you the same thing.”

She is equally eager to explain her reasonings, and quickly changes the subject. “I saw Lady Naerys this morning. Can you believe she has seven children?”

I chortle, and the sound feels strange coming from my throat. “But alas, not one of them fathered by a prince.” Without really meaning to, I take a step closer to her.

Y/n mocks distress. “But how will she ever become queen now?”

And just like that, we’re back on a subject we both would like to avoid.

I try to steer us away. “I admit that I was pleased when I heard news of your father’s safe return to the regency. You must be very relieved.”

But despite my efforts, a strange look takes over her face. “Yes, I am more relieved than you know.”

I press further, finding myself desperate to know what she’s thinking. “Audunn’s trial will be interesting. I estimate spectators will extend well past the boundaries of the courtroom.”

Again, I have misstepped. The color drains from her face and her hands immediately wring together in tight knots. It seems I have completely forgotten how to speak to this woman I once knew so well. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to—”

“It’s fine.” She cuts me off, staring at my shoulder rather than my face. She takes a deep breath, and when she speaks, her voice is hard, almost as if she’s willing the words to be true. “Soon Audunn will be dead. And all will be well.”

Something in her voice tells me that she is trying harder to convince herself than me.

The desire to comfort her is strong, but I am woefully out of practice. “I…do not see an outcome in which Audunn survives, yes. His choices were unfortunate, and put him at odds with the interests of two of the nine realms. Odin will not let that go unpunished.” I fight against a scowl. Because if anyone had been listening, they would’ve guessed I was talking about myself.

She surprises me with a tight smile. “Yes, you are right. This time tomorrow, Audunn’s execution will be set.”

Again, there’s that hard edge to her voice, one that wasn’t there the last time I encountered her. Whereas before it amused me, now it makes me feel sad. There’s no reason both of us had to be affected so by the world—Fate did that out of cruelty. Perhaps tomorrow after the trial, when her anxieties are further resolved, she will find some peace.

I think to the upcoming trial. She will be asked to bear witness, of course. But I worry of Odin fulfilling his duty to prepare her. I take matters into my own hands. “You know you will be asked to testify against him.”

“Yes.” The word is harsh, quick. But then she looks to the ground and stretches a hand absently to the bookshelf, almost as if she’s seeking some sort of comfort or reassurance from the touch. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, more vulnerable. “I find no pleasure in sending a man to his death. But I will speak honestly. Audunn dug his own grave—it is just my unfortunate duty to send him to it.”

I swallow, unsure of what to say. The last time I saw her, she spoke of no love for her husband, but this seems different…a deeper hurt, somehow. Part of me wants to ask what happened, but a larger part knows I haven’t the right. We are not lovers, we are not friends, and she is currently a married woman. When her status is changed upon the execution of her husband, she will immediately become the betrothed of my brother. So rather than risk hurt and vulnerability, I keep her at arms length. “I would advise you to get some rest, Lady Y/n. I have no doubt tomorrow will be a long and difficult day.”

She avoids my eyes as she curtsies and exits the library. Once she’s gone, I take a much needed deep breath. Something about her presence made the expansive library seem incredibly small, intimate. When she’d gone to curtsey, she’d needed to take a step back, as we had gotten quite close during our discussion.

With a groan, I practically stumble to the bannister overlooking the basement archives, gripping the wood tightly. Attachment to Y/n has never been a good idea, least of all now. But even after many breaths to clear my head, I still find that unwelcome feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling that nearly begs me to follow her from the room and pull her into my arms.

I slam my hand on the wood, startling one of the bookkeepers on the level below. Upon seeing who stands above him, he shrinks away, quickly gathering his books and scurrying out of sight.

That’s right, I think, bitterness bringing an unpleasant taste to my mouth. Run from me. I am dangerous. I am other. No one is safe with me.

Least of all a kind, wonderful woman who, even after hundreds of years, seems to hold the ability to ruin me in the palm of her hand.

A/n Hey guys, sorry for any mistakes! I proofread but I feel like I probably missed something because I’m tired. Let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you would like to be added to the tag list! What do you think of the conversation with Loki? How do you think Audunn’s trial will go? Stay safe out there :)

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/642883586082635777/odins-ward-chapter-16

Masterlist

“My Liege?” The advisor looks at me with concern.

“I have to go.” Without another word, I stalk out of the room. Once I’m sure no one can see me, I teleport to the attic in the turret.

The last place I had a nice moment with Y/n.

The painting of the door, the one I told her to use to contact me if she ever needed me, glows her favorite shade of purple.

With shaking hands, I reach into the painting, open the door, and retrieve a letter. Just seeing her elegant script—the first sign of her in over sixty years—nearly brings me to my knees. It reads:

Dearest Loki,

Can I even still call you that? I’m not sure I should, given our circumstances. Nevertheless, it is true. You are dear to me.

Anyways,

I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. I read the words in her voice, I can see the faces she makes as she awkwardly stumbles through writing this letter. It points to her still being the Y/n I once knew.

I read on.

Anyways, I have a favor to ask of you. It’s a pretty big one and could get us both in a lot of trouble if we’re found out. Due to my current situation, I am willing to take that risk. Are you? If so, please agree to meet me so we can discuss the specifics of what I’m asking of you — in person. It is better to keep as much of this as possible out of writing.

I realize that you said we needed to keep out of each other’s lives, and I understand why that is the best way for us both.

Still, I cannot help but be excited at even the possibility of seeing you again.

~ Y/n

P.S. Please burn this letter as soon as you’ve read it. Thanks.

Had the tone of her letter not been so concerning, I would have grinned at her sign-off.

After teleporting to my chambers, I throw the letter into the fire, as instructed, and sit at my desk to craft a response.

My Dearest Y/n,

I hope I have not overstepped in returning your greeting. You raise a valid point in wondering if we can still be that to each other—dear—but I believe our hearts cannot be lied to. There is no point in ignoring the fact when it is just us.

I know you would not contact me unless you absolutely needed my help. Fret not, my dear; I give it freely. If it is to your convenience, I shall meet you tonight in your bedchambers in Alfheim.

To respond, simply write on the bottom of this letter, and it will appear on a copy on my own desk.

I, too, look forward to seeing you again.

~ Loki

I glance over my letter. For all that I want to say, it seems incredibly short. But a voice in my head reminds me that, although seeing Y/n will be fresh air for a drowning man, I cannot lose myself in her completely. She is married. And denial and wishes are no way to live for two people who must spend their lives apart.

After using magic to send the letter to Y/n, I find a book to distract myself while anxiously awaiting her response.

{***}

Y/n’s POV

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a piece of paper appear on my desk in a hazy green glow. My breath hitches.

“Ragna,” I fight to keep my voice steady. “Could you go and find out what the cooks are serving for dinner?”

“Yes, My Lady.” She curtsies and leaves my room. As soon as she’s gone, I snatch the letter from my desk and open it.

Seeing Loki’s handwriting, so familiar after such a long time, makes my heart flutter and ache. After reading the letter, I take a moment to breathe.

I will see him again tonight.

With shaking hands, I write a single word on the bottom of the paper:

Yes.

The letter shimmers once more and disappears. I bite my lip, doing my best to contain my excitement.

There’s a knock on the door and I quickly try to calm my expression. “Yes?”

Ragna enters with a curtsey, as always. “Lamb, My Lady.”

“Hmm?” I find my gaze wandering back to the desk, waiting to see if another letter has appeared.

“For dinner, My Lady.”

“Oh, yes!” I snap my attention to Ragna. Oh, shoot! Ragna. I’ll have to get rid of her for the night. “You know, I’m actually not feeling very well. I think I’ll skip dinner tonight.”

Her brow furrows. “What’s wrong, My Lady? I will have a healer come to check on you.”

She begins to leave. Ugh, I need this room free of other people, not filled with them. “No!” Ragna turns around, a questioning look on her face. I take a breath, trying to calm myself so I can focus on how to make a convincing lie. Channel your inner Loki. After another breath, I put a soft but assured smile on my face. “My ailment does not require healers, but thank you for the offer. It is nothing more than a headache. I would prefer to be alone. Please alert the guards that I am to have no visitors tonight.”

Ragna looks convinced by my explanation. “Yes, My Lady. I hope you feel better. Please call for me if I can be of assistance.”

I smile. “Thank you, Ragna. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, My Lady.” She curtsies and leaves the room.

Now I just have to wait.

{***}

I alternate between pacing and reading as I watch the sun sink deeper into the horizon. Every minute that passes seems ages longer than it actually is. A relaxing candle does nothing to help. I change my outfit twice before going back to the original.

Finally, it’s pitch black outside.

Should be any minute now.

My heart flutters and my hands shake. I find myself nervously tucking and untucking my hair, unable to decide which is best.

“Hello, Y/n.”

The smooth, familiar voice stops me in my tracks. The voice that, for a short time in my life, brought me both great peace and excitement like no other.

I turn around, unable to wrap my mind around the reality of seeing him again.

But there he is, just as tall and handsome and wonderful as I remember him.

“Loki.” The breath escapes me and suddenly I’m running across the room. He pulls me into his arms and hugs me with as much force as I use to cling to him.

“Y/n, I—” I look up to see him beaming a smile of disbelief. “I cannot believe I’m seeing you again.”

“Nor I, you.” I stroke his face, running my hands over the angular lines that were once so familiar to me. He hasn’t changed a bit. “I,” I take a steadying breath in an effort to calm my shaking hands. “I cannot thank you enough for coming to see me. I know there is risk involved for us both.”

He shakes his head and pulls me to the couch, where we sit. “I trust your judgement and I am here to help. What kind of trouble are you in?”

I look down at our hands, still intertwined. “Please, we can talk about that in a moment. How have you been?”

He shrugs, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Well, Asgard is prospering, minus a few rebel factions that would see us undone. We avoided a trade embargo with Vanaheim and—”

I smile, cutting him off. “I asked how you have been, Loki, not the kingdom.” An uncomfortable, insecure feeling pricks at the back of my mind. Why isn’t he talking about his personal life? Oh, how I did not want to feel this way. I try to mask it with nonchalance. “Tell me about your life.”

He sees through me in an instant. He shifts in his seat, looking slightly uncomfortable. “You’re asking me if there have been other women.”

I huff, annoyed at my own insecurity and at having been found out. “I am not!”

He chuckles lightly, returning to his state of ease. “You are, and that’s fine. The truth is, yes, there have been others.” He looks at the ground, running a thumb absently over my knuckles. “None of them stick. I’m not sure I want them to.”

Now I feel guilty. How utterly unfair of me. “Loki…” At the mention of his name, he looks up. “I am with someone else now. For as long as he and I both shall live, as they said in the ceremony. The union between Audunn and I is,” I swallow, willing myself not to sound full of despair over these words, “forever. I hope that one day you find someone who is good for you.”

He smiles softly, though there is too much sadness in his eyes. I pull a hand free to stroke his cheek, letting it come to a rest on his chest when the tenderness re-enters his eyes. “I did.” Subconsciously, I clutch at his shirt, remembering our fleeting time together. After a heavy pause, he grins. “700 years ago a sniffling child was placed in my clubhouse and I was told to entertain her.” He rolls his eyes playfully, leaning back into the couch. “How was I supposed to know I’d grow up to fall in love with her?”

Breath catches in my throat. It’s been so long since I’ve heard him say that.

Loki can tell this affects me.

He leans in and I can see the deep emerald of his eyes. His voice is soft and sincere when he declares, “I do still love you.”

“And I love you,” I whisper without hesitation.

I’m not sure who reaches for who, but by the next breath, we’re intertwined. The kiss is desperate, hopeful, sad, and passionate all at once. Heat floods through my body. Vaguely, I realize that this is the first time in 63 years that I’ve felt desire. I’ve never once wanted Audunn as I want Loki. And as soon as Loki leaves, he’ll take this desire, this connection, with him.

Because Loki isn’t here for long.

With that realization, I stop holding back. Loki meets me there, and soon we’re undressing each other on the couch.

“Wait,” he pulls back, lips pink and slightly breathless. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I had a plan. I was going to be a gentleman. This is not being a gentleman.”

I smirk and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Who said anything about a gentleman?  I called you here, didn’t I? And I think I’ve been quite clear about what I want.”

That mischievous look I adore pops into his eyes. “Well, if the lady so wishes….”

We pick up where we left off.

{***}

“To be completely honest, I’m not convinced he can. Audunn is very old.”

It’s the early hours of the morning, and we’re leaned against my headboard, comfortably naked, me tucked under his arm. Loki throws his head back and laughs, pulling our entwined hands up to his mouth for a kiss. “That’s awfully unfair of you.”

“It’s true!” I join him in his laughter, loving this time we have together. “All he does is grunt and then he’s done! Absolutely no work required on my part.”

He scoffs playfully. “So what, you’ve just suffered through sixty pleasureless years?”

Now it’s my turn to grin. “There are ways in which a woman can pleasure herself, you know.”

“Yes,” a glint comes into his eyes. “But why should she have to when I am here and oh so willing?”

He kisses me deeply then, shifting so we’re buried in the covers once again, him on top of me. We break the kiss, and I sigh sadly, knowing that our time is running out. “I wish you could stay here forever.”

“What I wouldn’t do to stop time,” he responds sincerely, laying his forehead against mine.

I smile softly, the sadness creeping back in. I kiss him lightly on the nose before pushing against him so we’re sitting up.

He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to explain why I called him here in the first place.

I look at my fingers, contemplating how I want to frame this. If I tell Loki too much of the truth, that Audunn is manipulative and abusive and filled with hatred, there is a real possibility that Loki could do something rash and ruin future relationships between Alfheim and Asgard. Norns, he could start a war! Besides, it’s not like confiding in Loki would change anything. Even if Audunn were to suddenly be removed from the picture, it is likely that I would just be passed onto the next eligible suitor, not returned to Asgard to be with Loki. With all this in mind, I go with a half-truth.

“I don’t love Audunn, and I don’t want to have his children.”

Unexpectedly, tears enter my eyes. It’s so freeing to be able to share this with someone other than Ragna, to not have to pretend to enjoy Audunn’s company, and to be able to be, well, mostly honest with someone I love and trust.

Loki runs a comforting hand through my hair, looking at me with understanding and sadness. “You will be ridiculed. Alfheim views women as being required to provide heirs for their husbands. If you do not…” He trails off, hesitation in his eyes.

“I know,” I assure him, gripping his hands. “I’ve already been subjected to some of it. It has been over sixty years, after all.” I look him straight in the eyes so he can see just how sure I am. “But I can handle it. I can handle anything if it means saving myself from being bound to Audunn in that way.”

Loki nods steadily, and I can see that he’s made up his mind. “I will do as you ask.”

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Thank you.”

He brings a tender hand to my forehead and murmurs softly. After a moment, my body warms with the barely-tangible weight of his magic. I feel no different, but when he removes his hand, I know it is done.

“It will either take myself or another sorcerer to remove the spell, so if you change your mind…” His voice trails off.

I shake my head, completely resolute in my decision. “I won’t.” And, heavy with exhaustion and the weight of how my life has just been changed, I lean forward into Loki’s chest. His arms encircle me immediately, and I try to memorize exactly how this feels.

Because it’s likely I’ll never see him again.

He runs his hands gently up my back, easing me into rest.

“You’re a good man,” I remind him, because sometimes he forgets.

Before I hear his reply, I drift off to sleep.

{***}

In the morning, my bed is cold, and I know that he is gone.

A/n Happy holidays! Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Also, stop by and check out my masterlist! 

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/639152911075672064/odins-ward-chapter-14

Without warning, Farmer One lunges at Farmer Two, knocking him over the head with a sharp punch. I keep my calm exterior, but internally, my interest piques. Maybe this won’t be a completely wasted day after all.

But to my disappointment, four guards quickly put the skirmish to an end. Both men are taken to the dungeons.

Problem solved, I guess.

The interest I felt only seconds ago abandons me as I see a nearly identical pair to the last come forward.

I slouch.

“Stop her!”

The shout, which comes from a guard outside the throne room, is followed by a loud clamoring as armored guards chase after an unknown offender. And although I logically know it’s probably just some widow trying to cut in line, my hand inches towards my mother, ready to take her to safety if need be. Thor stands, putting on quite the show of a dutiful son. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. Against all odds, the noises don’t subside—they get closer to our location. Mother shoots Odin an alarmed look.

But when the intruder enters the throne room, my stomach drops to my feet.

I straighten, back stiff with tension and I can do nothing but stare on in complete shock. I feel my fingers straining with the grip they have on the throne’s arms, but I barely take notice. All I can notice is the shaking, muddy, tear-stained and windblown woman standing in front of me.

It’s Y/n.

A messy, frightened version of Y/n, to be sure, but it’s still her.

My heart aches with a feeling I thought I had long-ago purged.

Thor is the first to break from the shock and hurries down to Y/n, waving away the guards who have attached themselves to her arms. Noticing her tattered dress and shivering form, he takes off his red cloak and wraps it around her, looking at her with the concern and surprise I’m sure we all wear on our faces.

In a hoarse but firm voice, Y/n addresses us. “May I approach the King?”

In a pinched voice, Odin responds. “You may.”

Y/n curtsies as best as she can and takes two wobbly steps forward. Thor hovers near her uncertainly, obviously wondering if she’s about to collapse.

Y/n gives me a fleeting look and my mouth runs dry.

She turns her attention back to Odin. “I’ve come to request aid from Asgard. Two days ago, my husband raised an army against my father. Since then, the realm has been thrown into chaos. Brother murders brother and citizens switch sides as the tides of the battle change. It’s civil war.” She swallows, finding it difficult to continue. “Casualties are estimated at three thousand so far, but I have been gone for several hours. That number has likely risen.”

Odin has the nerve to sound dubious when he speaks. “And just how did you end up here if the realm is indeed engulfed in chaos as you say?”

Through my shock, I still find room to be annoyed by Odin.

Y/n seems to steel herself and looks him right in the eye. “My husband locked me in the dungeon with others deemed to be a threat to his reign. I believe he would have killed me if it were not that his claim to power dies with me. He’s been so preoccupied with trying to overthrow my father that those loyal to me were able to take advantage and help me and my maidservant escape. It took a long time but we were finally able to sneak through the castle and into the observatory, where we took the Bifrost to Asgard.

Odin purses his lips, seeming unaffected by Y/n’s story. “And this maidservant. Can she corroborate your tale?”

Y/n’s face flushes. “It’s not a tale! Your Highness, people are being slaughtered. Look at my shoes!” She kicks one off and holds it up for us to see. Mother stifles a gasp. Y/n’s shoe is caked with blood. Dark, clotted blood sticks all over the bottom and side of her shoe. Upon further inspection, I see that it continues over her ankles and the lower parts of her dress. “Blood like this is running through the castle halls. I can only hope the fighting is confined to the castle and that the carnage has not yet reached the lower town.” Y/n takes another step forward, stronger this time. “Your Majesty, please. They may live far away, but they are still your people. I fear that if we wait much longer, Audunn will take control and anyone loyal to me or my father will be executed.”

Odin squints, mulling over his options. “My help does not come freely.”

Oh how I hate this man.

Y/n grits her teeth but nods. “Then let us negotiate quickly.”

“Asgard’s army will step in and restore your father to the throne. Your husband and his supporters will be put to death or imprisoned.”

Y/n’s lack of reaction is noticeable.

“Your husband’s death does not trouble you?” Odin’s voice seeps with judgement.

“Audunn has made his choices. He must suffer the consequences.” Knowing Y/n so well allows me to detect the malice in her voice. I stifle a mirthless chuckle. So it seems we’ve both been hardened by the world.

Odin nods. “Very well. Since you will be without a husband and my son is still unmarried, I propose the obvious solution.”

My heart stops.

No.

“You and Thor will wed.”

“Father!” Thor’s explosion is the loudest, but Y/n provides her own objections as well. I swallow mine down, retreating into myself. He will get everything that was ever dear to me. I really shouldn’t be surprised at this point, nor feel the hurt, but still, it stabs deep into my chest. I put a lot of effort towards not letting my pain show.

“Father, you are well aware of my intentions to wed Jane. I love her! Y/n is like a sister to me, I would never consent to be her husband.”

“I will not have the next Queen of Asgard be human!” Odin slams his staff into the ground. “For all I care, you can take Y/n as your wife and keep Jane as your mistress. But make no mistake, Jane will never be your wife, nor will her children be heirs to my throne.”

Odin’s proposal clearly sickens Thor, but Y/n just looks blankly at the ground, noticeably quiet now. The two men continue in their argument, each getting louder than the other with every new point.

“Thor please,” Y/n interjects, her voice breaking on the last word.

Silence rings through the room as all eyes turn to her.

She addresses Thor directly, desperation evident in every inch of her body. “My people are dying. An entire realm will be condemned to slaughter and chaos if we cannot reach an agreement today. I am familiar with a husband who keeps mistresses and am very good at being discrete.”

The heart that I thought had long ago hardened breaks a little.

“I promise our marriage will not interfere with any more aspects of your life than absolutely necessary. We can work out the specifics later but for now, I beg for your cooperation.”

Her earnestness is clear and, with a defeated nod, Thor agrees to make my once lover his wife.

Unable to stand it any longer, I stalk from the room.

Y/n’s POV

Loki strides out of the room, looking bored. That’s it?

It’s not like I expected loud objections and an offer to marry me himself,—it has been over two hundred years and all—but I did expect, at the very least, some recognition. Loki gave no indication that he knew or cared who I was. Even through the shock and exhaustion and fear, hurt still manages to find its way into my heart. I try to shake it off. The task at hand is much more important than my feelings.

“If you are ready, Your Majesty, my people will be eagerly awaiting Asgard’s aid.”

Odin doesn’t look at me. Instead, he gestures to a guard. “Have the warriors gathered and ready within the hour. Thor and I will accompany them to Alfheim.”

Frigga interjects before I can. “What about Loki?”

If he stays in Asgard with me and Frigga, the people might view him as cowardly for not going to fight with the men.

Odin purses his lips unpleasantly. “He has not yet regained my trust.”

What?

Frigga looks away, her mouth set in a hard line. Odin exits the throne room, sparing no one any further glances. As Thor passes me, he gives what I think he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“All will soon be well, Lady Y/n.”

I nod, hoping he’s right. When he’s nearly exited the room, I remember his cloak.

“Wait,” I call, hurrying to him. He drops slightly so I can throw the cloak over his massive shoulders and secure it under his chin. Shame keeps me from looking him in the eyes. After all, if he dies, it will be my fault. I don’t want to marry Thor, but he was a dear friend to me at one point, much like a brother. I don’t want to lose him. “Be safe.”

He nods and gives my shoulder a hesitant squeeze. Then, without another word, he follows Odin out of the room. I can tell it will take him a long time to accept our eventual marriage.

Not like it will be any faster for you.

“Come, sweet Y/n.” Frigga’s voice startles me and pulls me from my thoughts. “I believe you need a hot bath, some supper, and a change of clothes.”

I let out a noise that sounds scarily similar to a heaving sob. “Yes, please.”

{***}

The water is hot and the steam curls the ends of my hair. One servant scrubs the dirt from my nails and another, my back. I sigh, feeling some of the tension finally beginning to leave my body.

Then, comes the guilt.

I’m here in Castle Asgard being pampered by servants, sitting in the company of the Queen, while my people are dying. To distract myself from the strong desire to wallow in guilt and despair, I decide to question Frigga about something that’s been bothering me deeply since my arrival.

“Is Prince Loki alright?” I try to sound casual but don’t quite pull it off. “He seemed…not like himself.”

Frigga exhales heavily, and heartbreak settles in her expression. My stomach clenches in anticipation. Whatever it is, it can’t be good. “It is not really my story to tell…but you have a right to know and I doubt he plans on telling you himself.”

I dare not breathe as I wait for her to continue.

“Odin and I have never been the perfect parents. We’ve made many mistakes over the years, but one has stood out amongst them as the most damaging. And my poor son bore the brunt of the hurt from something that isn’t even his fault.” Frigga takes a moment to fiddle with her hands, not meeting my eyes. “Loki is adopted.”

What? I feel my brows furrow as I try to make sense of this. How is someone just adopted into the monarchy? Royalty is based on blood and marriage, not adoption.

“During the last major war with the Frost Giants, Odin came across a baby. A Frost Giant baby — a son of Laufey, no less.”

I heave a sharp intake of breath. “What?”

She continues, giving me a teary-eyed look. “The baby had magic and unknowingly used its abilities to capture the likeness of an Asgardian child. Odin felt for him and brought him home. You have to understand, Odin and I had been trying for another child for over two hundred years, without success. It had seemed Thor would be our only child, but then the gods dropped this blessing into our laps.” The tears fall then, and she cuts me off as I try to interject with questions. “Because Loki is a blessing, you see. He is my son just as much as Thor is, and I would not trade him for a biological child.” Her voice takes on a desperate, scratchy quality that I’ve never heard from her. “I love Loki. He is my child. And he is part of this family!” Frigga sniffles pitifully and, if I were not naked and soaking with suds and water, I would jump up and hug her. “Unfortunately, Loki does not see it this way. He did not find out the truth from us, but by accident.” A pained look crosses her face. “He thought he was a monster. He still thinks that. And yes, some of his recent actions have been like those of a monster, but I know he isn’t. My poor child is hurting, and he does not know how to handle it.” She takes a steadying breath and turns her eyes to the ceiling. “Odin has essentially sworn Loki off, and Loki has done the same for the rest of us. He still holds some affection for me, but all is lost for his father and brother. He even tried to kill Thor and Jane. Thankfully, the attempt was unsuccessful, but that makes it no less terrifying. It’s a horrible thing to have your sons on opposing sides. After that, Loki—” she shudders violently. “He—he fell off the Bifrost. Well, he was going to fall, and Thor tried to pull him back up, but-but Loki let go.” Her voice breaks and the tears fall freely now.

He…tried to kill himself? I feel a lump rise in my own throat and my breath stops all together. The bath water seems to turn ice cold. My mind races to try and draw the connection between the Loki I knew and the Loki in Frigga’s story.

What happened to him?

“He fell for who knows how long. It was many months before he resurfaced again, though he was not the same person. Not at all. My poor son! He had been brutally tortured and his anger only amplified during his time of isolation.”

I feel my muscles tense and lock into place. Someone tortured Loki? The fury I feel surprises me, scares me even. Never have I wanted to hurt someone like I want to hurt the person who caused Loki pain.

“Loki had grown up his whole life to believe he was destined to be a king. When he realized his true parentage, Loki knew Odin would never allow him to rule.” She frowns. “Odin should not have encouraged him so during his childhood only to rip the possibility away later. But the entity who tortured him—he still won’t tell us who—made Loki believe that he could be king of Midgard. Loki used the Chitarui to attack a Midguardian city and try to force the realm into submission to him. Many people died.”

My heart beats so loudly that I’m sure everyone in the room can hear it. I’m surprised the vibrations aren’t causing waves in my bathwater. As much as I want to cover my ears or run out of the room and denounce Frigga’s words as lies, I can’t. Because no matter how horrifying and outlandish this story sounds, I can’t ignore the fact that the Loki I saw an hour ago was not the same Loki I knew two hundred and fifty years ago. Yes, people change, but not like that. Something really, really awful must have happened to bring about this new Loki.

Frigga continues, sounding weary. “A Midgardian fighting group Thor associates with defeated Loki and the Chitauri. Loki was brought back to Asgard in chains. Odin sentenced him to a five hundred years of imprisonment. There was nothing I could do to lessen the sentence and, of course, Loki has too much pride and hatred for his father to try and lessen it himself. But not long after his imprisonment, the Dark Elves launched an attack on the Nine Realms.”

I furrow my brow. I hadn’t heard of this. How had Alfheim not been aware?

“Loki broke out of prison and aided Thor in the fight against the Dark Elves.” Frigga gives a tearful smile. “Finally, they were on the same side! Loki nearly died in the fight. He protected Jane with his life. Thankfully, Thor was able to bring him back to Asgard in time and the Healers and I saved him with our magic. At mine and Thor’s behest, Odin begrudgingly ended Loki’s imprisonment. We all agreed that Loki’s sacrifice and willingness to protect the Nine Realms atoned for his crimes. I truly thought that was the turning point and that my Loki would be back.”

She sighs, looking at her hands once more. “But Loki is still a changed man. The lies, betrayals, hurt, and anger penetrated too deeply into his soul. Now he is cold, distant, spiteful, and he always wears a mask. No one can ever guess what he is feeling, because he refuses to give any indication of it! I worry he is not letting himself heal. And he is trying to push away the people he loves most.” Her voice softens, and she places a tender hand on my soapy cheek. “Do not be surprised if he does the same to you.”

{***}

Since my most immediate needs have been taken care of, I have ample energy to worry.

My stomach, in a near-constant state of unease since my escape from the dungeons, churns. My mind darts from thought to thought as I try to cope with fears for my people and my father, my anger at Audunn, shock at all I’ve experienced, pain and frustration at my engagement to Thor, and deep, deep hurt for Loki. There’s some anger there, too. Maybe more than some.

I huff.

Definitely more than some.

How could he be so stupid?! Yes, it’s absolutely terrible what he went through, but resorting to realm-domination and murder? Uh-uh. No way. Unacceptable. And the attitude on him! What the Hel is that?

“Ugh!” Some of my frustration leaves me at the spot where my foot kicks the table.

It immediately returns upon registering the pain.

“My Lady, please sit down!” Ragna worries over me, trying to pull me into a plush, high-backed chair. “You have been through so much, you need to rest.”

I scoff, yanking my arm from her grip. “There’s too much going on to allow time for rest, Ragna. And yet there’s nothing I can do about any of it!” I drop my arms to my side, defeated. “I hate that there’s nothing I can do.”

She frowns, unsure of how to help me. It’s then that I notice how tired she looks herself. A deep scratch runs from her temple to her hairline—she got that from a rogue guard when we were escaping Alfheim. She’s been through just as much as you have.

I give her a weak smile, hoping I look reassuring. “You and I both have been through a great ordeal. Please, let me call a servant to show you to your quarters. Take as long as you need to bathe, eat, rest, whatever you need.”

Ragna hesitates, but she’s so tired that she’s swaying on her feet. I nod encouragingly. “Al-alright, My Lady. Thank you.”

“Of course.” I go to the wall and pull on the string that will ring a bell in the Servant’s Quarters. Within minutes, a young serving maid enters the room with a knock and a curtsey. I send Ragna away with instructions not to come back until she is fully fed, cleaned, and rested.

But once I’m alone, the thoughts come racing back. While there’s nothing I can do right now to help Alfheim, there is something I can do to help myself.

I let out a loud, guttural groan, knowing what I have to do.

{***}

I haven’t been in the palace in over three centuries, but little has changed. Queen Frigga insisted I retake my old living quarters, so the path is one I know well.

He doesn’t seem surprised when I bypass a servant and enter his chambers without knocking.

“Leave us.” While my throat feels tight, the command is clear, and the five servants hurry from the room.

Loki doesn’t look up from his book when he says his first words to me in two hundred and fifty years. “Well, that was rude. What a terrible first impression the future queen of Asgard has given them.”

I scoff, crossing my arms, trying not to let the jab at my imminent marriage to Thor hurt me. “You want to talk to me about manners? All you do is scowl and stalk out of rooms.”

He gives an unaffected shrug. “Think what you like.”

The silence weighs on me and I can feel my heartbeat echoing through my body.

“Stand up.”

Now it’s his turn to scoff. “Why? Planning on impaling me with your dagger?”

Tempting. “Stand. Up.”

He sighs but humors me, setting down his book to stand with his arms spread mockingly wide. “Happy?” He fixes me with a hard, emotionless look.

I steel myself and barrel forward, throwing my arms around him in a tight hug.

He stiffens. “Lady Y/n, whatever you hope to achieve—”

“Shut up.” I squeeze tighter, turning my face so my cheek is against his chest. He sighs again and lets his arms hang, refusing to hug me back. I press on, forcing myself to say what I came here to say. “Listen. You’ve done some really bad things and turned yourself into a pretty awful person to be around.” I swallow, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. “But regardless of where we stand or what is in the past or future, you need to know that I am always on your side. I want you to get better. I don’t want you to feel pain or be sad or hurt or anything bad. But you have got to stop self-sabotaging. You need to let yourself heal. The people who love you can only protect you from so much.”

I push away from him and leave the room without another look.

A/n Happy New Year! My requests are open so message me if there’s something you would like for me to write :) Let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Link to next part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/639618035738607616/odins-ward-chapter-15

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