#sad loki

“I don’t care what you think!” you yelled, standing in the golden throne room of Asgard, sneering up at Odin on his throne, his whole demeanour menacing and unapproachable, yet you didn’t care, “I will find him, he is not dead!”

Odin merely gazed down at you, his expression unreadable as you stood beneath him. The older God had called you in today after receiving word that you were going to leave Asgard in an attempt to bring back Loki Odinson. He was your betrothed so why shouldn’t you fight to get him back?

“I am not asking for your permission, Odin,” you sneered, disregarding his title, bringing him down a few pegs so he is not as different as he wants to be, “he is your son but he is my betrothed and you shall not hold me back from him!”

That was when the Allfather spoke for the first time since you marched into the room with guards holding your arms. He studied you, noting how you were no longer the demure, frightened child he had selected for Loki. You had been corrupted by the Jötun and he had to remedy that. “You are still young, Lady Y/L/N,” the Allfather spoke, his voice as cold as his expression was, “I shall begin the search for a more… appropriate match.”

You reeled back, appalled at the King’s words before you broke into hysterical laughter, shaking your head. “You do that, Odin, and break the treaty with my family, I challenge you to,” you sneered before turning on your heel and departing from the throne room.

Before you could be grabbed by the guards, you broke into a run, smirking at the shocked exclaims of the guards behind you as you took of running down the hallways, expertly avoiding every attempt to be grabbed by various guards. With a grin, you slipped into Loki’s old chambers, not glancing at anything that could risk you to break into sobs and instead venturing to his wardrobe, pulling out one of his tunics and pants, hurriedly changing before running out onto the balcony and calling your magic to you to lift you down from it into the Queen’s gardens.

Once your feet pressed against the soft grass of the land below, you took off into a sprint, heading to the edge of the garden, searching for the gate covered in ivy. Before you could find it, however, you froze as a soft ‘Lady Y/N’ drifted across the garden. You turned and saw Queen Frigga frozen in the doorway to her garden.

“Your majesty!” you gasped, dropping into a curtsy even if it was quite difficult with your inappropriate clothing. Standing tall, you eyed Frigga nervously and spoke softly, “I’m not going to sit here and wait for a confirmation that he’s dead. I feel that he’s alive. Let me go.”

Frigga didn’t say anything, merely rushed over to you and pulled you into her arms. The Queen of Asgard’s hugs had always been a comfort and this time, it comforted your worried heart and the kiss she pressed to your brow was reassuring. “I never saw you,” Frigga whispered as a promise before turning away.

Smiling, you continued your search for the gate before exclaiming in victory when you found it, unlatching the lock and pushing the gate open and rushing through, pulling it shut and using seiðr to lock it behind you. With great knowledge of the layout of Asgard, you had no issue taking the long route around Asgard even as the warning bells raged from the palace and more guards were stationed near the broken Bifrost.

As you were hiding behind a barrel, waiting for a few guards to pass, you felt a tug on your leg which caught your attention. It was a small girl, dressed in her golden nightgown holding a rabbit teddy, her blue eyes staring up at you innocently. “Where are you going, Lady Y/N? They’re looking for you,” the girl whispered, seeming to understand the need to be quiet.

“The King has kept me in a tower, punishing me for my prince’s choices, I am on a brave mission to save him,” you explained, playing on the girl’s imagination, “so you must be quiet and never mention that you saw me. It’s all a game. I have to be ignored and not seen; do you understand? You must be quiet.”

“I promise,” the girl whispered before running off down the alley.

You nodded before taking off in a run, your feet now firmly planted on the glass of the Bifrost. As you approached the broken end of the Bifrost, you froze as you saw Thor standing there with Heimdall. Cursing beneath your breath, you approached them and stood beside Thor.

“You won’t stop me,” you whispered viciously, “I’ll jump if I must.”

“No need,” Thor answered with a grimace, gripping Mjolnir so tight that his knuckles had turned white, “he’s on Midgard.”

“Midgard?” you repeated with surprise before nodding and turning to Thor, “so we’re going.”

“I’m going, Lady Y/N, I must arrest him, he is not the man you knew,” Thor answered, turning to Heimdall and nodding, “do it.”

With a scoff, you watched as Heimdall lifted his sword and murmured the prayer to open the Bifrost without the observatory and when it opened and Thor was sucked into it, you jumped in too, ignoring the call from Heimdall.

The travel to Midgard wasn’t that long but when you arrived, it was dark. You’d appeared within a corn field, the soft rustling of the leaves comforting your anxiety before you closed your eyes and focused on the connection between yourself and Loki. That’s when you felt his seiðr for the first time in a year but it felt… wrong. Corrupted. That gave you more of a reason to find him, you needed to make sure that he was alright.

So, you latched onto his magic and disappeared with a soft glow before reappearing outside a glass cage. Disoriented, you grabbed a bar quickly to stabilise yourself before realising what was happening. You turned your head and there was Loki, his hair longer and greasy, his eyes a striking blue when they had once been green and his armour slightly askew.

“Loki?” you whispered weakly, staring in surprise before running across the bridge to the glass, pressing your hands against it, watching as Loki studied you carefully, “I thought… Oh, Loki.”

The God of Mischief tilted his head before striding over to where you were stood and sneering at you, “now you show up? After Thor?”

You stammered, thrown off by his violence toward you and tears rose to your eyes. “Loki… I tried to find you, I swear it! When you fell, I wished to jump after you but Thor wouldn’t let me.”

Loki chuckled darkly before stepping away from you and staring at you as if you were scum to him. “It took you a year to find me, how pathetic,” he spat, making you flinch, “what a pathetic fiancée.”

In that moment, you realised it wasn’t just his magic that was corrupted. It was him. He wanted your tears. He wouldn’t get them. You lifted your head with a soft smile, dipping into a curtsy before walking away.

Somehow, you’d been roped into assisting the band of Midgardians (and Thor) defeat Loki. You would follow Iron Man into his tower to confront Loki but that hadn’t ended well and you’d been knocked out by Stark’s flying Iron Man device as it raced after Stark when Loki threw him out of the window.

You were only awoken by the Hulk’s roar and Loki’s response. Groggily, you woke up and saw Loki shouting at Hulk, “you are, all of you, beneath me! I am a God you foul creature and I will not be bullied by- Ah!”

You watched as Hulk grabbed Loki’s ankle and began to bash him around like a ragdoll. You flinched as you watched Loki’s pained face after Hulk left and instantly raced over to him, pulling his head into your lap.

“Loki?” you whispered, your fingers delicately tracing Loki’s face, “Loki… are you okay?”

Loki didn’t answer for a while before he gazed up at you and his eyes lit up with recognition unlike how they’d been days ago. He knew you. Elation lit up your chest and you grinned down at him.

“Hello, love,” Loki whispered softly, his hands gently tracing up your arms before pulling you into a tight embrace, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and brushed some hair away from his face, smiling down at him tenderly before whispering, “no, don’t you dare apologise for this. You weren’t you. NEVER apologise for this.”

Loki hesitated before laughing softly at you and shaking his head, resting his forehead against your chest and sighing with relief. “We have to leave, you’ll be considered a criminal to them now,” Loki whispered, his eyes shining with worry.

You laughed softly and nodded before helping him sit up and looking out at the sky as Chitauri continued to fly out of the portal. Then, you looked back at him and softly whispered, “how do we stop this?”

“Let them stop it,” Loki whispered, groaning in pain before his hands gleamed with green magic and you stepped closer to him, feeding your magic into his spell and you both disappeared from the tower, appearing two realms away on your home planet of Vanaheim.

The quiet of the brook and the crickets in the grass instantly calmed you and a smile lit up your face before you helped Loki to his feet and whispered, “come on, I know a place.”

For an hour, the two of you walked, Loki progressively becoming able to walk on his own until you reached a raging waterfall. Your hand gleamed gold and the water split, revealing a door concealed in the rock. Turning it, you brought Loki inside and closed the door, candles and lamps lighting as soon as the door closed.

“Welcome home,” you whispered with a soft grin, guiding Loki over to a sofa and helping him sit down, “this place is hidden from Odin and Heimdall, father created it for me centuries ago.”

Loki observed the place with a soft smile, there were simple decorations, but it was a blank canvas for the both of you. “It’s perfect,” Loki whispered softly before doubling over and groaning, clutching his head.

Instantly, you rushed over to him and removed the majority of his armour until he was left in his tunic and pants. There, you hesitated but when Loki nodded to you, you lifted the tunic and gasped at the sight of grotesque slashes across his back and arms. “Loki… what… who did this to you” you seethed, lightly tracing the slashes, observing the poorly healed cuts and infections.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Loki whispered brokenly, avoiding your gaze and trying to hide how much pain he was in. The God of Mischief grimaced in pain as you pressed your finger against a cut and watched infected pus pool out of it.

“Try me,” you whispered to him, standing from the sofa and walking into the kitchen before returning with a healing kit, sitting beside Loki again and beginning to cover his back with healing salve.

Loki hesitated but when he saw that you were serious, he began to tell you everything. About his fall, about Thanos, about the Infinity Stone controlling him and the torture he was put under for the majority of the year that he’d been missing. All the way through his explanation, you let him speak and pressed loving kisses to his forehead when you could. When he was done, you pulled him close to you and allowed him to cry.

“Shh,” you whispered to him, lovingly tracing your fingers through his hair, “you’re safe, Loki, you’re safe.”

Loki leaned into your comfort, his body trembling from the pain of the salve healing his back, seeking more of your comfort. Still, the trauma of what he went through haunted his mind. “But… what if… what if I’m not?” Loki whispered weakly, “Thanos, he… he’s horrible! Terrifying! Worse than anybody we’ve thought of before as being wicked!”

“You’re safe,” you answered, pressing a kiss to Loki’s brow, holding him close to you, allowing him to curl further into your chest, “as long as we are together then we will protect each other. Do not fret, you are so safe.”

Shortly after that, Loki had fallen asleep and you’d needed to magically carry him to the bedroom and cover him. Now, however, you awoke and Loki was nowhere to be found. Startled, you rose out of bed and searched everywhere before finding that the door leading out to the top of the waterfall was open.

Outside, you found Loki sat in the water, staring up at Vanaheim’s constellations, his eyes vacant and sad. As you approached, he flinched and a dagger formed in his hand but when he realised that it was you, he relaxed and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s natural, with your amount of trauma, Loki,” you whispered, sitting on the bank close to him, following his gaze up to the constellations, “what are you doing out here, late at night?”

The God gazed over at you with a lost expression on his face before he whispered, “couldn’t really sleep. Nightmares.”

You nodded and with a slow movement, you were sitting beside him in the cold water of the river, listening to the rush of the water going over the edge and landing below. You rested your head on his shoulder and held his hand tight in your own with a soft smile as you whispered, “you’re so safe, Loki, we have each other, you’re so, so safe.”

You heard Loki release a broken sob but said nothing, knowing that while he had your support, he also needed to fix his mental state on his own too. The God of Mischief was broken but you knew with time, he would find a new type of normal.

“I half expect the Bifrost to open and Thor to take me by my neck to Asgard, to my death,” Loki admitted quietly after several minutes in silence, “I miss my brother, Y/N, the brother he was when we were little. Not the brute he became.”

You nodded and gently brushed your thumb over his hand, just listening to his admissions. Loki appreciated your silence, your understanding that he just needed to talk, he just needed to feel like he was safe.

“I’ll never see him again, nor will I see mother,” he continued, tears in his eyes as he stared up at the star that he knew was the realm of Asgard, his home and the place that rejected him, “I wish I could say I was sorry to her, my sweet mother. She never did anything wrong.”

That’s when Loki embraced you, pulling you into his lap and pressing a kiss to your forehead before pointing up to Asgard’s star. “Perhaps, upon the day of Odin’s death, I shall return to my brother and my mother,” he whispered, his eyes full of hope for that future.

“Perhaps,” you responded with a soft smile, cuddling into his warmth before you began to shiver. “But for now,” you grinned, “back to bed, it’s cold.”

Loki chuckled and stood from the water, gathering you bridal style in his arms before walking down back into the house.

Glancing out at the sky over Loki’s shoulder, you glared at the blackness of the sky, swearing revenge on Thanos for what he did to your beloved. Little did you know, he was glaring right back at you.

~~~~

The sun rests low on the horizon, slowly dipping down amongst the waves. It turns the water a gorgeous shade of gold and the sky flies past in a flurry of bright and brilliant colours. Though as slow as the bright star sinks, it still let off a bit of heat. A welcoming warmth caressing the tanning skin of those still out, enjoying the last rays of the day before heading inside to avoid the chill night.

A child plays in the sand. Building castles of great architecture and collects shells and rocks of all forms and sizes, anything piquing his interests really. A bucket sat beside him and in it rests all his collected treasures. He uses some of the colourful shells and stones to decorate his castle, giving it colour amongst the muted tones of sand.

His mother sits not far from him, basking in the last of the heated rays before the inevitable task of packing up for the day. She watches her boy, clad only in his swim trunks, unruly obsidian curls bouncing at every movement as he fiddles and plays with his toys in the sand.

A warm yet solemn smile painted her thin lips as she watched over her young one, seeing features oh so similar to her husbands. From his ivory skin and up to his emerald eyes, their son was but a copy of his father. The spitting image save for the too few features he had of her, like the scattered bloom of freckles that decorated the bridge of his small nose and cheeks.

He also seems to have gotten mannerisms eerily similar that of his father, despite the brief and few memories he had of him in their short time. The pick at his hands and furrow that would rest on his brows whenever he was confused or sad was just so like her husbands. It brought an overwhelming need to be protect him from the dangers of the world, but she knew that as he grew, she won’t be able to protect him from everything and the best she could do was to teach him how to protect himself. But as of now, she would do just about everything to keep him safe.

Just as the sun began to descend the horizon, the boy abruptly stood up and walked over to where his mother lay beneath an umbrella, clutching tight on the offering he wished to show his mother.

‘Mama!’ he called out as he reached near her.

‘Yes, my darling?’ she replies warmly.

‘Wook at what I found mama’ he urged for her to look once he reached the tail end of her towel, plopping down on her lap, causing her to grunt at the sudden weight while he thrusts his hands to her face, the offering in question presented. She moves to sit up, the young boy still in her lap as she adjusted her position and lifts her Ray-Ban’s to her head so to properly see whatever it was he so wanted her to well, see.

In his small hands, lay a green sea stone. Big enough to dwarf the small hands of a child like his own yet still small in the eyes of others. It rests softly in her son’s palms, smooth surfaced, and tinted seafoam, she understood why it would pick at her son’s interest.

‘That is beautiful love’ she praises, earning a prideful look from the little boy, his chest puffing out as his grin stretched much like a Cheshire cat. It earned a hearty chuckle from the mother, watching her son’s actions. Joyous and confident, much like how his father was before.

‘May I?’ she asked and once a nod was returned, she plucked the stone from his hands, holding it up to the sky. She hoped that what was left of the day was enough for the light to pass through the translucent glass and it did. The stone glowed bright like the waters before them.

A look of awe shaped the boy’s face, his mouth hung open as he stared at the rock, but the mother’s gaze only strayed for a bit before turning back to her son. The look on his face made every hardship worth it and yet again, it brought another wide grin to her face.

Pressing a quick kiss to his temples, she gave the rock back to him and still, he stared at it as if it contained the hidden magic of the world. Taking the moment with his attention pre-occupied, she brushed away the sands stuck to his skin, from his face to his pale torso, she brushed away as much as she could, but the rest would have to be washed away when they get back to their room.

Speaking of which, she glanced at the sun, the sky a canvas of pinks, oranges and violets as the sun sunk down low enough and it now meant that it was time for them to pack up and head back inside.

Her gaze lingered in the horizon until a tiny voice called her back.

‘Mama’ the child called for her.

‘Yes dear?’

‘Do you think papa would wike this?’ he asked, turning her attention back to him. There had been few and brief times that his father was asked about and often this was the question asked. The other times he’d ask were always of his father’s character. Stories of the man were told and a picture of him was kept among the boy’s things as a remembrance, but it had been a long while since he’s asked of him again.

She stared at the orbs identical to her son’s fathers and she couldn’t help but think of him. His charming smile, his careful touch, his loving gaze, and intoxicating smell. She longed to be back in his once safe arms, but she couldn’t, and that truth is to be accepted.

‘Yes he would luv’ she answers. The truth was, knowing her husband, he’d love anything and everything their little boy gave him. From a messily drawn card for Father’s Day and his birthdays down to a piece of cereal the boy had been eating, the man would have been grateful for anything his boy gave him.

 ‘Bwilliant’ he murmurs, and she just knows he will keep it safely stashed amongst the other things he thinks his father would like. It warmed her heart to have a son so kind and giving. It made her proud that he was growing up to be as so and she just hoped her husband would be as well.

‘Alright darling, we have to go pack up now. Go get your stuff and then we can go back to the room so you can have a bath and then dinner’ she explains to the young boy, tucking away the curtain of curls that hid his face behind his ears before cupping his cheek and giving his little button nose a kiss, causing him to giggle in her hold, his face scrunching up. ‘Alright?’

‘Okay mumma’ he nodded to her command and set off to get his toys and treasures from the sand. Watching him pick up his stuff, she began to pack up as well. Tidying up the drinks and towel she had brough and place them in her bag before brushing off the bit of sand that stuck to her skin before putting on the blue summer dress atop her swimsuit for when they head back to their room.

The boy trudged back to her with a heavy bucket in hand and his kiddie camera slung around his neck. The bucket nearly overfilled with all the stones and shells he collected, along with the beach toys he used to make the castle.

Dropping it with a heavy grunt, the boy huffed and puffed at the exertion, causing his mother to stifle a laugh yet still a sound managed to escape, her hand immediately flying to muffle the sound but seeing it went unnoticed, she relaxed and dropped it.

‘A bit heavy love?’ she asks.

‘A wot heavy’ he says, emphasizing the word like a true drama king. Wonder who he got that from?

‘Alright. Now, do you want to wear a shirt before we go back?’ she asks, offering him the top he wore earlier.

‘No tank you’ he declines, shaking his head.

‘Alrighty then’ she puts his shirt back in the bag before slinging it on her left shoulder and picking up the castle shaped bucket (which did weigh a lot, no wonder her son was left panting) with her left hand. Her right: out in offering for the young boy to hold as they slowly walked back to their hotel.

‘Did you have fun today?’ the mother asked as the walked along the beach.

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ he shouted in enthusiasm, jumping up and down. The mother could only smile at the boy’s joyous behaviour, glad that she could give him fun memories to look back on.

The rest of their walk was filled with conversation about what the new thing’s he discovered about the sea life, the castle he so artistically constructed and the promise of coming back here another day and by the time they reached the lobby of the resort, the mother could see how the exhaustion of the day was taking a toll on her little boy.

‘Ahh, Miss Ackland’ Mr Birch, the evening manager greeted from behind the reception ‘good day I presume?’ he questions, noting how tuckered out her normally energetic son was started to sag against her. With a brief glance to the boy and a small chuckle, she nodded.

‘Yes, it was good day. Especially for this one’ she replies, rubbing a thumb over the hand in her grasp, hoping to at least rouse the child until he’s eaten dinner.

The man chuckles a bit, seeing how unresponsive the boy is to her attempts. ‘My, the young tyke seems real knackered.’ he comments with an accent much like her own yet the way the words flow so smoothly would have anyone wrapped in a trance,

‘Yes well, all day out in the beach seems to do that’ she responds politely.

‘Well, best not keep you from your young one and leave you to it. Have a nice evening miss.’ he bids her well off with a gentle smile that would leave any woman with a common-sense to a puddle, yet she has her immunity, and she powered through with it.

‘Actually, would you mind sending some food to our room in 15, 20 minutes? We haven’t had the chance to get some dinner and I’m hoping to feed at least a little into him before he’s off for the night.’ She requests of the manager, really wishing to at least have her boy a few bites before going dead to the world.

‘Certainly miss.’ He dutily responds, already picking up a phone to call the kitchen ‘Just the usual ma’am?’  he asks of the meal, turning to her with the phone to his ear.

‘Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you Mr. Birch’ she says with a kind grin, faintly hearing his conversation as mother and son walked away.

‘Yes, to the Amphitrite suite in fifteen minutes… Thank you’.

---

Once the pair arrived back to their room, the sun had finally set, casting a now dark canvas, littered with twinkling stars, though it went unnoticed to the weary boy who had let go of his mothers’ hand as soon as they entered and dropped with a thud on the chalk white cushions once he was near enough while his mother, Ms. Ackland, relieved herself of the heavy weight she had been trudging since the beach.

‘Leo’ she called to the boy softly, opting to not chastise the young one when he was already weary. ‘Come on darling. Quick bath and some dinner then off to bed, sleepy head’

‘But I’m not sleepy’ he whined, an indicator of his true predicament, even as he refuses.

‘Well, a quick wash and some supper then’ she bargained even though she knew he’d out like a light by halfway through dinner and when she received no response, she added ‘and we’ll also wash up the shells and rocks you collected, and you can sort through them after.’ And with that, his head shot up, his curls bobbing as he ran (well more speed walk than run) with what energy he had left to her side, awaiting for her instructions and wanting to get his bucket of treasures so he could wash them.

With the young one finally clean and sand free, dressed in his favourite dark blue pyjamas, they set off to the sitting room portion of the suite, just in time for room service to arrive with their supper. Since Leo had his attention to his rocks and shells (fully washed and draining on a colander borrowed from the hotel), his mother was the one that had gone to get the food, still wearing her blue summer dress since there wasn’t enough time for her to get cleaned herself but she planned on doing so after her little boy had gone to bed.

She thanked the room service and closed the door of the suite before fixing up the plate of food and brought it to where little Leo was pre-occupied, seemingly sorting the rocks by colour and size on the towel laid out before him while he let the shells dry out in the colander a little bit longer. She sat beside him, setting the plate a good distance away from his work area and began to feed her little man.

The rest of that time had been quiet, save for the thud of rocks on the whitewashed coffee table and the occasional murmur to open his mouth so the mother could feed him bites of the pork Souvlaki. In between bites, she’d offer her opinion, helping out a bit on his activity but not once has he said anything. Only responding in nods and a shake of his head, another symptom of his fatigue and true to her word, with the plate half cleared, she noticed the lack of hands working through the rocks and a weight leaning on her. Turning her head, she found the boy sound asleep, a rock he had been looking at still in his grasp but the lack of movement and the slow and steady breaths he let out was enough for her to know.

Pushing the plate aside, she carded a hand through his curls, making him curl up more beside her and all that did was take her back to when it was her husband that did the same thing. Head on her lap, she would comb through his raven locks and all that would do was press a face farther onto her stomach, arms wrapping around her waist so he could pull her closer.

This was most endearing when she has pregnant. Her beloved would whisper to her belly in a hushed tone. Her hand, as always, in his head of hair and when her nails would start to scratch at his scalp, a content sigh always left him before he burrowed in the warm mass of her stomach.

Thinking back, those were near the last good moments she had of just the two of them. A loving husband, doting and caring to his beloved wife as the two prepared the arrival of their little one. So cheery and full of life, once was he and now all she could help but do is miss those moments, let alone the man he was back then.

After a small while, the mother took the boy in her arms and having done this so many times before, it was an instant that the boy instinctively wraps himself in his mothers’ hold, arms circling her neck, legs locking behind her as he laid his little head to her chest, right over where her heart beat a rhythm that often lulled him to sleep. She planted a kiss at the top of his head, right on his unruly curls at she took him to the bedroom.

Laying him down in the middle of the queen-sized bed, she laid with him for a bit to make sure he would no longer stir before carefully untangling herself from his hold. She propped some of the pillows beside him, just to make sure he wouldn’t move to far to edge and fall and covered him with his blankie before deciding it was enough and she left the room, shutting the door quietly.

Taking a survey of the suite, she figured on tidying up and finishing what was left of supper before taking a shower herself, wanting to be rid of the day’s clothes and into her own pyjamas while she indulged on some wine in the balcony.

Nearly giddy at the thought, she set off in doing so and half an hour later, she emerges from the ensuite in fresh clothes, warmed somewhat by a thin green cardigan she put over.

The mother then set off to the kitchenette where a good bottle of wine chilled in the mini fridge. Now without any distractions or hesitation, she took a wine glass the concierge so kindly provided, and poured herself a hearty amount, tasting the aged, fermented juice and relishing at the thought of getting lost from her head for a few hours after a glass or two.

With the glass near empty, it was then that she remembered that she hasn’t even touched her phone nearly the whole day and seeing it sat on the counter, with a quick reach, she had it in her hand. She wasn’t surprised of the lack of notifications, so she set it down and finished the last of her glass’s contents. What did surprise her though was the call that connected a minute later, the familiar name on the ID catching her unexpectedly.

She answered the call before it dropped, wanting to hear from the man after a while of no contact.

‘Thor’ she starts, putting the phone to her ear as she poured herself another glass. ‘Long time’

‘Yeah, um. It has, hasn’t it?’ his deep voice grumbles through the phone’s speaker.

‘Five months to be exact’ she clarifies, bringing the glass to her lips and takes a sip.

‘Sorry, it’s just…’ he started to explain himself, but she cuts him off.

‘No. Don’t, don’t do that. Don’t say that. I could have called but I didn’t, and I am as much to blame’ she clarifies, regretting making the comment when she didn’t want to take apologies when she was just as much at fault as he was.

‘Right, alright. Um, where’s little Leo?’ he asks, diverting the conversation to the boy so to get out of that uncomfortable subject. 

‘Ohh, he’s already in bed. Sorry. Had a long day’.

‘Wow, that early. It’s just a little before nine. Usually, he’d still be very active. Well from what I can remember that is.’ The blond man chuckles, remembering the nights he’d spend with the very energetic child.

‘Actually, it’s about ten before 11 here.’

‘Her- Wudduya mean here? Aren’t you in town?’ the man asks, clearly very confused and he sounds it and that is her fault.

‘Ohh, were in Santorini on holiday. Sorry, I haven’t informed anyone really and I would have you but-’ you haven’t called, and I couldn’t make the call myself the last bit went unsaid but the both of them knew.

‘Oh, okay. Alright.’ He pauses for a while, leaving a pregnant silence to fill until he did. ‘Well, is it good there?’

‘Very’ she responds immediately, uncomfortable by that gap. ‘it’s beautiful. The water, the architecture, the culture, the people, it’s absolutely wonderful.’ She describes, looking to the balcony where there was a perfect view of the sea. ‘Leo’s enjoying himself too. Playing in the beach all day, making sandcastles and he collects shells and rocks that take his interest and earlier he went about to sorting them, but the little man fell asleep halfway into dinner. Too worn out from the day to even finish his sorting.’ She giggles a bit, remembering how the little boy looked all curled up beside her.

‘Seems like you’re having a good time.’ The man responds, a bit despondent but she didn’t hear that.

‘We are.’ She says with a bit of pride ‘we are’ she repeats though this time she’s uncertain and dejected because a part of her is guilty. For actually having a good time and without the man she loves. And another part.. just wants him. To be here with them. To enjoy this with them but, we can’t have all we want now can we.

She faintly heard someone talking, someone angry and that was followed by the sound of the phone shuffling before she heard Thor again.

‘Sorry Em, could you hold for a minute?’ he requests, and she answers back yes but before she could ask anymore, he mutes.

She put the phone on speaker and set it down, taking a gulp of her wine and as promised, after a minute, he came and called her back.

‘I’m back. You still there?’

‘Yah’ she manages before swallowing her drink ‘still here. Everything alright?’ she asks, wondering who it was that was so angry (though she should have known).

‘Yeah. Everything’s just fine’ he replies, sounding out breath.

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, absolutely. Terrific’ he says with far too much cheer, it annoyed her enough to know it was fake.

‘Thor.’ She says firmly, setting her glass down the marble counter ‘What’s going on?’ she demands sternly, using the voice she rarely would use to chastise Leo with when on bad behaviour, not wanting some half-arsed answer.

Again, a long of silence stretched on until with a heavy sigh, he began.

‘He’s in hospital again.’ He confesses and she shakes her head, knowing well who he meant. Irritated was she, evidently enough to pick up her glass and divide its contents into half.

‘He’s always in hospital’ she replies after swallowing, swirling the liquid around the glass and she watches in fascination, wanting to get her head from what he just said.

‘No. This is different.’ He presses, knowing the times he’s said this before were for minor and abrasive accounts.

‘What do you mean?’ she pesters, her voice now wobbly as a burst of possibilities swirled in her head.

‘He um- ‘he stops himself, swallowing the hard pill because knowing her, telling her this would only tear her apart. ‘He rang me earlier.’ That enough was a giveaway that something was wrong, the severity was the only missing piece. ‘He was in pain, and he could barely let out anything before he dropped the phone and groaned in agony.’ Her breathing hitched then, tears welling her eyes while her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I got to him as soon as I could, and when I found him, he was on the floor, in pain’ He hated repeating that but all he could do was relay the accounts of what happened as it was still all so fresh and hope he could filter it as much as possible. ‘I called for an ambulance and tried to get him to tell me what was happening, but he couldn’t even respond’ he chokes, remembering the sight and it flashes before his eyes, as if he was reliving the whole painful ordeal again.

Emma on the other hand, had tears quietly running her cheeks, hand still tightly clasped to her mouth for fear she would let out a sob that would not only alert Thor but Leo as well. Her mind ran rampant, creating images and images of her pained husband, lying helplessly in pain on the floor, asking for help to no one because of his solitude. Not knowing if he there was anyone coming at all.

Guilt held a tighter grip on her breaking heart as her mind convinced herself that it was her fault that he was alone. She should have been there. She shouldn’t have left. She should have taken care of him and maybe he wouldn’t be where he was if it she had just stayed and cared for him. But she didn’t and she wasn’t there when he was helplessly lying on the ground, wondering if the last thing he’d see was the dirt and bottles that undoubtedly littered the floors around him instead of his beloved wife and darling son.

She swallowed back the sob itching to escape her lips, desperate on not making a sound.

Her mind was taking a turn in the labyrinth it already was, taking her to unknown ends of painful scenarios her unyielding mind procures when she still doesn’t have the pieces to the whole story.

A creep of silence then went on for the benefit of both. Time for them to compose themselves before the once boisterous man continued.

‘The ambulance-’ he begins once more, though demurely ‘-arrived quickly. And they took him to the hospital immediately, seeing the state he was. Even the doctors didn’t know what was happening to him, but they gave him morphine for the pain.’ He somewhat assures and it relieves her a bit knowing he wasn’t in pain anymore. ‘They let him rest for a bit before they took him for tests. He’s resting now though. They’re keeping him for the night under observation but there was talk that the stay might be indefinite until they figured out what was wrong. Just in case another attack happened but you know him’ he teases lightly, not wanting to drown in the dampening mood this whole conversation, hell this whole ordeal has taken and neither did she so, she appreciates the lightening.

And she also knew what he meant. Her husband hated hospitals. Even stepping one foot inside churned his insides enough and being a patient? We’ll she knew enough to give her an idea of what happened.

It didn’t help her to think of his reaction to being told that he had to stay the night. Scared as he might have already been, the prospect of staying even longer undoubtedly terrified him and thus she concluded that he refused the longer stay.

Thinking of it, the only time he was at some sort of ease while in the hospital was when they took baby Leo for his newborn check up and even then he was anxious. The check-up had been a necessary. Just to assure the new parents that their little one was alright and properly checked on since a homebirth lacked that formality. The man himself had been the one to insist on the homebirth and Emma didn’t object to that, wanting to give the man a sort of peace as they brought their child to the world. His fears only eased once the doctor told them that everything is just as it should be about their newborn and there and only then did he relax as he rejoice on the fact that they had a health baby boy.

That clued her enough of his fear of hospitals and that information didn’t help her at all now.

‘The doctors are coming back in the morning for the results but after that, he insists on leaving’ he continuous to inform her, wary of her lack of response.

She hasn’t said anything since the start of his recount. Not a sound could be heard from her end of the line, and it unnerve him, making him check to see if the call was still on and it was. It took him a few good minutes, but he deduced why she was so silent.

He knew his sister well and the things he’s regaled to her… he just knew it was breaking her being apart.

‘Emma’ he called out, wanting to be sure he was still taking to someone. ‘you still there?’

‘yah’ she muttered, barely audible but he heard.

She had sunken to the floor, leaning against the counters as she pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she silently cried. Her phone still sat atop the island, her call with her brother-in-law still ongoing yet there she was, listening, tears running her cheeks as she listened to him describe the torment her beloved endured.

‘He needs you now’ the man murmurs, pleading for his brother’s sake that she come back. He knew his little brother wouldn’t take it if these pains continued on and he feared the day he would give up. And without the person he loves most, the person that had been his solace long before, his rock and home, he is terrified of that end coming too soon.

The woman could only swallow at the man’s words before clamping a hand on her mouth and burying her head to her knees as an unrelenting sob escapes her. She had no control of it and the others that followed but she did have control of how loud they would come to so she did her best to make as little sound as she possibly could.

Try as she did though, Thor heard her. Muffled as it was, he knew that sound better than he liked to admit and not once did his heart break not break for her every time.

‘just… please come back’ he begs her once more, intending to end the call and leave her to some privacy. He stays on for a bit longer and just as he was about to press the end button, she called out to him, saying his name in an unsteady voice, congested and clear that she had been crying.

Two days she wanted to say. Give her two days and she would do everything she could to be there as soon as possible but what left her mouth wasn’t so. ‘Take care of him for me’ she pleads her own, on the brink of another fit of sobs but she held on till the call ended.

‘Always’ he responds before ending the call and with that her resolve crumbles.

Once again, her hand flies to cover her mouth, going in to cover and muffle the onslaught of sobs she had no hope of controlling but… they never came. Whether it was for some preservation for Leo’s deep sleep or her sudden inability to, they never come. What took its place though was a rush of tears and a heavy heart.

Leaning back on the limewashed cupboards, she let her tears run and her heart sink for she thought she deserved it. The guilt eating at her from the inside. Churning her stomach to knots and crushing her heart to shreds. It manipulated her. Turning her to the villain at the heart of this mess when she had done nothing but protect herself and her son from the tragedy that was once a happy family.

Her mind was a cruel and fickle thing. Making her believe the lies it comes up with and without the one person who knew how to lead her out of the labyrinth, she was lost. Facing every new dreaded possibility at every dead end without escape or clue on how to get out because the person that always led her to the exit, became the reason she was lost and missed it.

She didn’t blame him though. Despite what the others do, not once did she blame the poor tortured soul of her husbands’ because how could she. She could have helped him and stayed by him, just as she vowed but breaking that promise lost her the right to blame, not that she would.

In sickness and in health… clearly she didn’t hold her promise on that.

She drew her knees back to her chest, letting her heart wrench while a hand rose to reach for the bottle of wine that still sat on the bench. Once she got that down, Emma took a big swig right out of the bottle, never minding the glass she used before. Her only goal. To suffer and hope she’d be numb enough to stop the tears from flowing.

And that’s how she spent the rest of the night. Sat on the kitchenette floor of her suite, back against the cupboards as she let her tears dry out while burning a bottles’ worth of wine through her liver, letting her guilt and sorrow drape over her as it would a child under a tablecloth on Halloween.

My fading supply

With no one to turn to, Loki had found himself back at your grave “My love…I’m sorry I haven’t visited in awhile…things have…been weird to say the least” He huffed out as his head fell in exhausted defeat.

He walked closer to your gravestone and sat down across. Loki was clearly frustrated, lost, alone…His willingness to keep going, to find purpose again, to find life was all put to a halt once you passed…

This whole Frost Giant revelation has only added onto the stress coursing through his soul. Why was he lied to? Why had no one told him a thing? Did you know? Is that even possible?

“My Love I…I can confidently tell you that life has started shining again…even if you aren’t with me…but I just found something out a couple weeks back and I don’t know to whom to speak about this matter…except you…”

His eyes started welling up with tears, not of sadness, but of anger, of confusion, of betrayal. “I really wish you were here right now…I really wish I could hear your voice again my love because in all honesty, I have no idea where to even begin with this issue and it’s making me hate myself even more…I am the monster my own father warned me about and it hurts…it hurts…”

He fiddled with his fingers and twirled his hair while lost in thought. He thought about you, his life, his place in the universe. Everything.

Loki stayed by your grave the whole day, crying and pleading for you to be with him, just this once? maybe? please? please?

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(a/n): hello! yup its been awhile since i updated on this series but life has been busy (+ exam szn) and i wanted to put other fics out there but enjoy part 4!

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(a/n): UPDATE — officially i’ve decided to end the series here. I think the story is slowly reeling into Loki’s story already portrayed in the MCU, but if you want some sort of closure to this. No. Loki does not actually reunite with you, your stories end here. The same way he can’t be with Mobius at the end of Loki season 2, he cannot be with you.

Thanks for all the support on the series!