Chapter Text
“Explain to me what it is you’ve pieced together,” he asked, his emerald eyes warming as the firelight danced within his vision.
“Hm?”
“Your speech, from earlier,” he tilted his chin up in your direction from across the small table. “I regret that we didn’t get a chance to discuss it prior, but it was quite impressive.”
You scoffed, “I spent what felt like ages following you and Thor around as you frolicked amongst nobility, and you’re surprised I picked up on the ability to speak in a manner that can move a crowd?”
He shook his head as his smirk took hold, “Darling, I most certainly am not surprised by your ability to captivate an audience,” he purred, leaning forward onto his elbows as they rested on his thighs, “I believe you’re onto something, something that I hadn’t fully processed. About Vanaheim, Asgard, and Jotunheim.”
“If you’re alluding that this is something I discovered from research, it most certainly is not.”
He shook his head, “Whatever it is that led you to this, I believe might have been a missing piece of the puzzle that I failed to consider,” he sighed, leaning back. A hint of regret and guilt pained his expression as he did so. His shoulders were rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern.
Your expression softened, “Loki, it is of no fault of your own that you didn’t think twice about the bigger picture. You were directly involved and impacted by Odin’s actions — you must sort your own emotions first before you’ve healed enough to see it from another perspective.”
He waved his hand, “It’s in the past…” he sighed, “But I do believe you’re onto something…”
You nodded slowly, holding your palms out towards the fireplace, “Jotunheim, Asgard, and Vanaheim used to coexist. Not just coexist, but live in harmony.”
Loki nodded, his eyes watching your face intently.
“When I went to the village this morning, I found the remains of a market. One incredibly similar to those in Asgard and Vanaheim. I spoke to a man who explained to me that not only did Jotunheim flourish when the casket was still here, but the people of Asgard and Vanaheim alike would travel here for goods.”
“It would make sense given what I’ve learned during my time here…” he hummed in confirmation.
“What is the one thing Odin wants more than power?”
His eyebrow rose slightly.
“Control.”
“I’m listening,” he nodded.
“When Asgard and Jotunheim first went to war, not only did Odin take the casket, but he also took you. Why wouldn’t one suffice? The casket he knew would render them powerless. Why take a baby just days old?”
You waited in silence as Loki processed your words.
“Somehow, he knew just how powerful you were. Somehow, he *knew* that you would be his greatest threat if you remained in Jotunheim. That we’ve already sorted… but I believe his goal was to punish them for their actions. Not only that, but weaken them -- weaken them to the point that even if one day, when you were old enough, and you discovered who you really were, that there wouldn’t *be* a Jotunheim left for you to rule.”
Suddenly, his eyes widened, “That prophet that your parents spoke to prior to your birth…”
“Do you think Odin knew?”
He pursed his lips, his cheeks hollowing momentarily as his eyes sparked in the fire, “They said she was well known to the Nine…”
Your own mind was racing as you recalled your parents' recollection of the events. Desperately grasping at the memory, replaying it to the best of your ability.
Suddenly, it clicked.
“One day your daughter will arrive, the raven as her guide, and her light the color of the midday sky,” you whispered, the words barely able to leave your lips, “If the prophet had enough knowledge to give them that information…”
“There is a chance she had seen it long before she knew of the consequences…”
“She’d predicted your birth,” you gasped, “She had to have… How else would Odin have even known who you were?! He sought you out… Stole you from your crib…”
“Aud’s family might not have been the only ones seeking you out…” his voice barely audible as he gazed into the fire, “I was already born and in Asgard by the time your parents sought her out… She must have seen what had come of whatever insight she had given to Odin…”
“And she certainly couldn’t implicate the Allfather without risking her own life…” You sighed, your mind working overtime to piece the threads together as they came, “...Do you think she knew we’d end up here?”
“I certainly wouldn’t be surprised given the circumstances,” he chuckled, a faint smile dancing across his face. “His greatest threat in Jotunheim and Vanaheim alike… I like it.”
“Do you think he knew who I was? Even before we discovered it ourselves?”
Loki sucked in a sharp breath, “With your parents being missing and your history being washed from existence… I would have been surprised if the scholars had been able to find any record of your true lineage…”
“He said something, on the first day he called me to meet with him… He said I wielded powerful sedir… He said, ‘sedir that powerful is rare…Loki and his mother are of the few with such a blessing’...”
Loki’s expression was gaunt as he recalled the events of that very meeting.
“I spoke with my mother about you,” he winced, “After I had saved you in that tavern… I was in shock - I hadn’t encountered power like yours before. Certainly not outside of the Gods and Goddesses I’ve come to know…” He paused, his eyes darkened, sorrow and regret filling them as he focused on a point in the distance, “When I made you heal me that day… I was selfish, incredibly selfish… But I wanted someone to experience the panic I felt when my own sedir couldn’t help. I was trained… I was skilled… I was powerful… But when I found you, I had never in my life experienced fear as I had in that moment… I felt helpless… In part, it was certainly my ego - but the way your sedir had blocked my own was unlike anything…”
You quickly jumped from your seat, your feet padding against the floor as you walked over, crawling into the large chair and positioning yourself behind him. Your arms wrap around his chest in an embrace - his hand reaching up to hold yours loosely.
“I told her everything, and she said she would look into it… I do not fault her for trying to help, but I would not be surprised if she had passed the information to Odin in an attempt to get answers,” he took his lower lip between his teeth, his jaw clenching.
“I will never fault you for your past, Loki,” you whispered, tightening your grip around him, “You couldn’t have known.”
“I can be held responsible for my actions,” he sighed, his voice hushed, “And I will forever regret how I treated you. How I allowed my emotions to mould the way I acted towards you… I was desperate for someone, anyone, to feel even an ounce of what I did. I thought it would make me feel better to know that someone else had gone through what I had… But it only made me feel worse, to know that I had become exactly like those who had hurt me…”
“The difference between you and them, Loki,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his dark, tangled hair, “Is that you have the heart to feel remorse. To change…”
He didn’t reply. His sedir flaring and calming in waves as you sat. You didn’t let go.
“The past is just that, the past,” you added, “If you spend your time dwelling on it, you won’t have the time of day to right your wrongs.”
He nodded loosely, his eyes fixated on the raging fire.
But unlike the flames that threatened to cross the threshold of their home, his energy finally began to soothe.
-
-
You were content with your time spent in Jotunheim.
You had hope, at the very least, that you had given the citizens enough information to trust their King to lead them into battle.
Especially so soon after their last King had died doing that very task.
You now stood at the far edge of the village, silence enveloping the bite of the wind as you gazed into the distant and dark night.
“Ready?” A voice asked, breaking through the overpowering absence of sound that had just taken hold.
You nodded, a soft hum in agreement.
Gymir would ready the soldiers in Jotunheim.
Loki wouldn’t be of much help anyway, not in their training, at least.
His skills would be of much better use in Vanaheim - especially given his ability to wield sedir.
“Heimdall!” He called, his hand wrapping around yours as the rainbow blaze descended upon you.
The bright, swirling light in stark contrast to the deep and never-ending black that surrounded you in Jotunheim.
Immense dread took over the moment your feet touched the floor of the Bifrost.
Heimdall’s face only made it worse.
“What is it?” Loki asked, his voice cool and devoid of emotion.
Heimdall only blinked, rolling his head slightly as he took in your appearances.
“______, Your Highness,” he sighed, “The Allfather has requested your presence upon Asgard.”
You sucked in an immediate, sharp breath.
“Fuck,” you whispered, not even thinking twice as the word left your lips.
“There is no way she is going,” Loki growled, taking an intimidating step towards Heimdall.
“Unfortunately, Your Majesty,” Heimdall shook his head, “I am under strict orders to send her to Asgard immediately upon her next use of the Bifrost.”
“By next, you mean this one, don’t you?” you replied. A question that you already knew the answer to.
Heimdall simply nodded.
Loki growled in frustration, his hands reaching to tug through stray curls along the side of his head.
“Loki, it’s fine,” you urged, “I’ll go.”
“He wants you there so you can’t return to us,” Loki shook his head, “He certainly must be aware that I have left for Jotunheim at this point, and he either believes you to be in Vanaheim or Jotunheim. Depending on what he’s been told, he probably assumes you are trying to get to Jotunheim at this point - given that you are using the Bifrost…” He paced around a tight circle of the room, thinking, planning, deciphering.
“If he believes I’ve yet to arrive in Jotunheim,” you began, your mind running at lightspeed, “He believes me to be able to be moulded to whatever plan he has for me…”
“But he must not be aware that we’ve been moving between both realms…” Loki added, “Or he is aware and would like to step in before you have the chance to decide...”
“Do you think he knows we are engaged?” You whispered, unsure if you wanted to know the answer.
“He has not been informed,” Heimdall spoke up from across the room, clearing his throat, “I believe King Loki once said he thought I held a soft-spot for you, _____,” A light chuckle left his lips, “I believe he may be correct. You weren’t raised as the other royals were - so I do not expect you to be held to the same standards as them, nor do I expect you to play the same political games as they do.”
Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly - trying to discern where he was going with this.
“All that to say, I would not send you to Asgard in circumstances that would put your life at risk against your will. For example, if Odin were to know of your bethrothal, your life would indeed be at risk, at the very least, more than usual.”
You nodded. Loki let out a sigh from your side.
“We have no choice,” you said, turning to face the god beside you. His features were laced with turmoil.
“I believe you’re well aware that if we did have a choice, I would ensure that you never set foot in front of Odin again.”
You let out a soft giggle, “I know.”
Loki picked up your hand, his thumb gliding over the center stone of your ring.
“I’ll bring this back with me to Vanaheim,” he murmured.
Just as you went to protest, he cut you off, “I’d rather not risk the situation becoming a dire threat to your life. I know you are wonderfully skilled at illusions, but even the best falter in moments of tense emotion.”
Your face flushed lightly as you brushed the images of the times your magic had indeed faltered aside.
“I’ll be waiting for you in Vanaheim,” he assured, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll even propose to you again when you arrive.” A goofy and love-filled smile took hold of his lips.
You mirrored his expression, bringing your hands to cup his cheeks as you pulled his lips to your own.
“You promise?” You asked, lips still brushing against his as you rested against each other.
“I promise,” he whispered in response before bringing your mouths to intertwine once more.
When you finally parted, you realized just how thankful you now were to have worn your armor on your trek through Jotunheim. Your enchanted knives were resting in their sheaths against your thighs, and your necklace was tucked away under the leather neckline as you carefully slid your ring from your finger, tentatively passing it to Loki before turning to leave.
As you approached Heimdall, Loki remained near the rear of the Bifrost, allowing you to cross through the invisible barrier to the large opening where the rainbow bridge was waiting.
“Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do,” Loki’s voice called out, just before you crossed through the wall, thrumming with energy.
“That leaves a lot of possibilities on the table…” You replied, catching his emerald eyes as a smirk began to lift the corner of his lips.
He only shrugged, a soft smile forming on his face.
“I love you,” was your only addition.
“I love you,” was his final response.
As you crossed the threshold, the realm snapped into place.
“Asgard awaits, Your Highness,” Heimdall now spoke, gesturing to the hauntingly familiar exit.
“Thank you, Heimdall.”
He nodded.
-
-
Two horses had been waiting near the end of the bridge when you emerged. One holding a guard and the other empty, awaiting a rider.
The ride to the palace was silent.
This time, a different silence than the silence that had surrounded you in Jotunheim.
Unidentifiable and obscure.
You couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that a guard had been sent at all.
The home that had once welcomed you was now a strange and foreign land.
Even stranger was the feeling upon arriving at your former quarters.
Empty and sterile.
Cold and unwelcoming.
A shiver ran through you as the door shut behind you.
The guard had said something to you as the door was closing - something to do with Odin, meeting, tomorrow.
You knew you’d be collected when necessary.
You now sat up on the bed, watching as the sun began to inch over the horizon.
You didn’t sleep well.
Tossing and turning as you had time and time again in this very bed.
A knock on the door woke you up fully, your hand flying to the dagger at your thigh.
You’d slept in your armor.
It certainly hadn’t helped your sleep quality, but it gave you peace of mind.
You swung your legs over the side of the mattress before hopping onto your feet and walking briskly towards the door.
A sigh of relief came over you as it was Karyna’s face that met you.
You ushered her in before quickly shutting the door behind her.
She threw her arms around you, “I’m so glad to see you!”
You laughed, returning her hug, “I can say the same to you.” You smiled, stepping back as you released each other, “Why are you here?”
“Don’t you recall why I was sent to help you the first time you were here?”
You scoffed a laugh, “A meeting with the Allfather requires my utmost presence and preparation or whatnot.”
“Exactly,” she teased, her smile reaching her cheeks as she shifted her weight.
“Very well,” you smiled, “Although similarly to your first visit, I didn’t bring anything to wear aside from this,” you gestured to your armor.
“If it’s considered presentable for the men to arrive in their armor, I don’t see why it can’t be the same for you,” she shrugged.
A silent breath of relief left your lungs.
Much easier to protect yourself should things go awry in your armor over a dress.
You took a seat at the vanity as she began to work on brushing your hair.
“I didn’t know you were coming until they informed me of your arrival this morning,” she said, an innocent enough question.
You raised a hand, locking a sound barrier into place around you. Keeping it small - just over you and Karyna, as it was easier to control and easier to keep strong at that size.
Her face contorted in confusion, “A barrier?”
“Sound barrier,” you answered, “I didn’t know I was coming until last night.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was traveling using the Bifrost, and Heimdall informed me I was to go immediately to Asgard upon the request of,” your words faltered for a moment, “The Allfather,” you quickly said. Ensuring you did your best to correct your habit of loosely referring to him as Odin.
She nodded slowly, “I was confused when one of the stablehands told me a guard had collected you at the Bifrost…”
“I’d tell you more if I had more answers… but,” you shrugged, “I’m not entirely certain why I’ve been asked to meet with The Allfather.”
“As long as you tell me once you can, I’ll be content to get whatever gossip I can get,” she laughed.
You could tell it was her attempt at lightening the mood, and you truly appreciated it.
The remainder of your time getting ready was spent with Karyna giving you random updates from around the palace. The servant gossip, which you wholeheartedly appreciated.
Even after your makeup and hair were complete, you sat and continued chatting - life updates, etc.
You were incredibly happy to see her happy.
It was a pleasant distraction from the situation at hand.
That was, until the knock on the door.
Karyna was the first to stand; you were quick to follow.
She threw her arms around you once more, “I’ll see you soon,” she said. A pure and genuine warmth to her words.
Your heart ached at the sheer thought.
If only you could promise that.
You returned her hug, “I hope sooner rather than later,” you said with a light laugh.
“I have to get back to the infirmary now,” she began making her way to the door. “Good luck!” She sent a smile in your direction.
You returned it as best you could.
At the very least, you were proud of just how much her sedir had improved since you first met her.
She opened the door and left with a wave.
You let out a breath as the door shut behind her.
Might as well get this over with.
You stood, brushing off your armor as you did so. Once again confirming that your daggers were still in place as you glanced in the mirror.
Karyna had done your hair in a braid that wrapped around the crown of your head - a beautifully intricate work, and still incredibly functional.
Your makeup was soft but imposing - like a painting that drew you in but was quick to startle you with the intensity of the meaning.
You quite liked it.
Your steps were slow and drawn out as you walked to the door.
One last and final glimpse in the mirror.
Could you really do this?
You didn’t really have a choice, did you?
As doubts began swirling in your mind, a voice was quick to envelop them.
‘A peasant who became a goddess, a princess that is soon to become queen… The only individual fit enough to stand against me… and you’re worried about my adoptive father?’
You stifled a laugh.
‘I’m worried I won’t hold my tongue this time.’
‘As I said,’ he hummed, ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
‘I presume screaming at your adoptive father is not out of the question then?’
‘Most certainly not.’
‘Lovely.’
‘But do at least try to garner some information if you can?’
‘Of course I will.’
‘And do not take to heart the actions or words of those you know and love,’ his voice was pained, ‘They’re protecting their own lives with their every choice.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Ásynja mín, ástin mín, dróttning mín,’ he purred, ‘I love you.’
You smiled, recognizing each phrase as he spoke.
‘I love you, konungr minn,’ you replied, a smirk flashing over your lips before you finally stepped in front of the door.
‘You aren’t even Asgardian,’ he teased.
‘Neither are you,’ you shot back.
‘Half.’
You shook your head, finally pulling the door open.
You were quickly taken aback when you found two guards waiting for you.
“Your Highness,” they offered with a light bow of their heads, “The Allfather has requested your presence in the throne room.”
“Thank you,” you gave a tight-lipped smile. When they didn’t turn and leave, you added, “I know my way to the throne room, don’t fret. But I appreciate it nonetheless.”
“We are under orders to escort you, Your Highness. I am sure you understand, you’d do the same in your own kingdom.”
You bit your cheek, but you didn’t dare argue.
Of course Odin would have you treated like a threat.
You *were* a threat.
Either that or he was trying to intimidate you.
“Very well,” you replied with a curt nod.
One guard walked ahead of you and the other behind.
You kept your complaining restricted to your mind as you walked.
You’d certainly disintegrate them if you could.
If for nothing else, simply to prove you were capable of such a feat.
It would also bring you a hint of joy to ruin the spectacle you were certain Odin had awaiting you.
When you approached the ornately crafted doors, memories were quick to flood in.
The first time you had truly laid eyes on the Dark Prince in all his glory.
How terrifyingly intriguing.
The doors were quickly opened by two guards standing on either side as the first guard approached.
You were certainly not as nervous as the first time.
More uncertain than anything.
Slightly worried that your dagger would end up in Odin’s throat before he could even get a word out.
This was not the time to get charged with a crime so heinous that even Frigga couldn’t save you.
‘I’ve thought about it,’ Loki’s voice pondered through your mind, ‘Never done it.’
Thankfully, then, that takes it off the table.
You were guided again to the base of the dais.
Odin stared forebodingly out over you as you approached.
“Your Majesty,” you offered, removing any hint of emotion from your words as you dropped into a bow, lowering your head as you did so.
The light glimmered over the golden throne, sparking another memory from your time in this realm.
‘Oops,’ you whispered through the bond.
You earned a venomous cackle from Loki in response.
The joy you felt alongside his laughter was quick to fade as Odin’s scepter slammed against the stone.
Frigga stood to his left, and Thor to his right. Both of them avoided your eyes.
The guard who walked ahead of you announced your arrival.
“______, Princess of the High Court of Vanaheim.”
You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
Of course he knew exactly who was standing before him.
Runa was not present in the throne room.
Should she be?
You began to worry - was she alright? Was it proper protocol for her to be invited?
Loki was quick to soothe your restless mind once more, ‘She most likely would not be present now that Odin has awoken, not for something so serious. I would not be surprised if Thor was kept in the dark about the true reason for this meeting to ensure Runa was unable to interfere.’
You let a shaky breath fill and leave your lungs.
“As I’m sure you are aware, Your Highness,” Odin spoke, his voice a calm echo through the room as he stepped forward on the dais, “Prince Loki has abandoned his post upon Asgard.”
“I am aware, Your Majesty,” you replied.
“And you, Your Highness, have taken your throne upon Vanaheim, have you not?”
“I have, Your Majesty.”
“We will forever thank the Norns for allowing your parents to survive the treacherous acts taken against them.”
You simply bowed your head, taking a momentary pause before returning to look up to where Odin stood.
Odin had had the sense to avoid your eyes during his statement - ensuring you couldn't discern any fluctuation in his emotions that would incriminate him.
‘Stupid fucking old man.’
“I’ll be forever grateful for the blessings bestowed upon my family,” You replied, your tone thankfully not providing any insight into the disdain you held at his words.
Odin stepped back, sitting down slowly upon his throne.
You tried to discern what he’s been told so far. Certainly, if he knows Loki is gone, he knows where he is… right?
Thankfully, Odin was quick to give you the very hint you needed.
“As you are also aware, I instructed Heimdall to ensure your next Bifrost trip was indeed to Asgard... but might I inquire, was that your intended destination?”
Every question is a double-edged sword - but thankfully a sword that you knew well enough to decipher.
“No, it was not, Your Majesty.”
“And where were you intending to travel outside of Vanaheim?”
“Jotunheim,” you replied. Your tone remains the same, emotionless and cold, as it was upon the frozen land.
You silently thanked the Norns that Odin had phrased his question in the way he had. No need to explain that in reality, you were indeed traveling to Vanaheim, not from.
Nonetheless, his questions continued.
“And for what reason would the barren land of Jotunheim require a visit from Vanaheim’s Princess?”
“I thought it fit to maintain diplomacy between our realms, given the recent change in leadership,” you answered, "Especially given their previous invasion of our realm under Laufey’s rule - I intended to ensure we remain on good terms.”
“There is no need for that,” Odin waved his hand in dismissal, “Asgard will protect Vanaheim from the attacks of Jotunheim as we have before.”
Of course, Asgard must keep its claws dug into Vanaheim. No need for my realm to have autonomy when Asgard exists…
“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be beneficial for our realms to coexist in a way that was not possible before,” you simply answered.
Let him dig his own grave.
“As I said, Asgard will protect Vanaheim from any further attack from Jotunheim,” he raised his voice slightly this time. A command, rather than a statement.
“Would it not be beneficial to have peace and allyship with their realm rather than live in fear that they will attack? With Loki as their sitting King, it is entirely possible to live harmoniously…”
“Silence,” Odin snapped, “It is not up for further debate. Our stance remains that Jotunheim is a hostile realm, no matter their current King.”
You felt the anger beginning to stir in your veins, “Your Majesty, if I may… Jotunheim is surprisingly… peaceful… Their people do not desire war, nor do they desire hostility. They simply desire to live with the ability to survive and prosper as Asgard and Vanaheim do now. If the Casket were to be returned to their realm, the risk of war would be entirely diminished…”
This time, Odin stood from his throne, his scepter slamming to the ground as he did so.
“Silence!” He shouted, “The Casket of Ancient Winters will never return to Jotunheim. It is a risk, a liability — you may believe the lies spread by my son, but they are just that, lies.”
He returned to his seat, peering over you with a scornful gaze.
The anger grew within you at his words.
“Not a single part of what allowed me to draw this conclusion has come from the word of their King. It is not his request for the Casket to be returned; it is my own.” You said, your words stern, a warning, “I have spoken to the people of Jotunheim myself. I have seen firsthand the conditions they live within, and I have heard stories of the prosperity of which they once maintained. They do not wish to fight, but they continue to try on the faint gleam of hope they still maintain that they may one day be allowed to thrive once more. If the Casket were returned, what purpose would they have to fight any longer?”
“I will have you know that my son is a master of manipulation, and assuredly he has cast a web of lies upon those you encountered—“ he was quick to respond, and the faintest hint of frantic panic could be sensed upon his canvas before he removed his eye from your own.
“He is not your son,” your response came out as a low growl.
“Young lady, who are you to disrespect me in such a manner—”
“What have you done to earn my respect? You have done nothing but disrespect the man whom you are still relentlessly intent on referring to as your son,” you snapped, “And now you request my presence in Asgard for what? To request my aid in manipulating your ‘son’ to bend to your every will? I arrived with one request - one single request, only to be tossed aside and commanded to bend at the knee.”
“Your ‘request’ could doom the nine realms in a heartbeat, woman.”
“Do you know the state that Jotunheim has been left in since your last visit?”
You watched his eye carefully as the words left your lips.
His vision was quick to shift away, but not quick enough for you to miss the shift in his emotion.
“You do,” a scoff fell from your lips, “You are aware of the poverty and horrors that Jotunheim faces every waking day, and you still so easily brush aside my request and attempt to pass it off as lies! When you know that it’s simply not true!”
“It is not something up for discussion,” Odin replied, his voice sharp as the base of his staff met the stone of the floor.
Your laugh was unable to be contained as it slipped, “War does not have to be the answer,” you pursed your lips, “But if that is your choice, so be it.”
“You expect me to be so careless as to simply hand my enemies the very item that would bring my downfall?”
“As the Allfather, it is your responsibility to ensure all nine realms succeed,” you snapped, “And you are knowledgeable enough to know the harm that has come from their lack of the very item that gives them the power to exist.”
“Like I already stated,” his voice was raised, stern, “I do not wish to risk the fall of the other eight realms if the casket were to return to its home.”
“But you’re willing to bring the fall of two by the act of your very hand?” You shook your head, “The man you raised as your son, raised to be a king, sits upon the throne of Jotunheim. The man you still claim to be your son now rules a suffering kingdom, and yet you wouldn’t dare give him even the faintest amount of trust to allow him to better the lives of the innocent citizens?”
“Loki has betrayed Asgard time and time again.”
“You fail to see that you betrayed him from the moment his life became tied to yours,” you shook your head, your eyes not once leaving Odin’s eye.
“I saved his life!” Odin shouted, standing from his throne.
“You stole him from the midwife who aided his mother through his birth! You not only took the casket, but you stole a baby! And for what? A prize? A threat?!” Your voice held a growl behind it, your sedir was flaming through your veins.
Odin’s scowl grew, “You are dismissed,” he snapped, turning back to his throne, “If Vanaheim were smart, this ‘diplomacy’ would cease immediately.”
You began turning towards the entryway, “We will not stand idly by as an entire realm is tossed aside to die a slow, painful, and heartless death. Vanaheim will stand with Jotunheim.”
And with that, you turned on your heel and quickly made your way to the exit. You felt Frigga and Thor’s eyes burning into your back as you walked.
You needed to get out of here.
You pushed the door open with as much force as you could, waiting until it slammed closed behind you before taking off into a jog.
As soon as you made it around the corner, you allowed your sedir to flow around you, focusing intently on the Bifrost.
When you felt yourself arrive, your eyes were quick to open.
“Heimdall,” you breathed out, “I need to get to Vanaheim.”
No words were shared as he simply nodded, turning his sword and allowing the Bifrost to spin endlessly.
And soon enough, you arrived.
You teleported to the place entrance, running up the stairs without a second thought.
The guards were quick to pull the door open for you - and you let out a sigh of utter relief as you saw Loki waiting on the other side.
You didn’t cease your run as you slammed into him, throwing your arms around his neck.
He was quick to return the embrace - his arms wrapping around you as he lifted you up.
The silence between you held more weight than words at this moment.
You felt the flames of his sedir raging and flickering.
He certainly felt yours doing the same.
Your shared rage was enough. Enough to show you understood.
The pain he’d gone through was real, it always was - but it was entirely different to experience it firsthand.
The utter lack of care and compassion.
This was hate.
Despise.
And you weren’t certain you had ever hated anyone more.
It wasn’t carelessness.
It wasn’t turning a blind eye.
It was intentional.
And you heard everything you needed to confirm that.
When you finally let each other go, his emerald eyes found yours.
You didn’t dare access his canvas.
But you allowed yourself to drown in the dark and turbulent waves of green that he held within them.
“Thank you,” was all he whispered - his mind opening through the necklace, allowing you in to see what he couldn’t speak, ‘For fighting for me.’
You were overwhelmed with emotion as you took in his mind as it played before you.
Memories, visions. More than that, how he felt in those moments.
A montage of experiences that he held on to, unable to set them free.
A young Thor sat upon the Allfather's throne - a small version of his headdress on the crown of his head.
The view you were seeing from was the base of the dais.
Running up the stairs, sitting on the throne, as Thor stood up.
“Loki!” A booming voice scolded the minute he sat down, “You are well aware my throne is off limits.”
“But, Father..”
“To your room, child.”
The view switched, facing an older Odin. Thor was standing near the door to the room - a bit older now. He stood for a moment before quickly exiting.
“Father, I just do not understand how you came to this conclusion… I’ve done everything that was required of me,” Loki spoke, his voice cracking lightly on the words.
“It is the way it must be, my son.”
“You cannot even offer me a single thing I could have done differently?”
Odin paused, pursing his lips, “There is not necessarily anything to change; the simplest explanation is that Thor is more prepared to take the role in the event of my untimely death.”
A deep pit, a sinking feeling, and the image shifted again.
You quickly recognized Jotunheim’s landscape. Felt the faint memory of pain as a Frost giant stared back at you, removing their weapon.
The inner monologue of Loki’s voice from the moment was a painful soundtrack.
‘Stupid. Useless. I should have known better. I *do* know better. No wonder he will not dare to make you king.’
Another flash.
A bright blue glow beckons.
‘The Casket of Ancient Winters,’ his internal monologue confirmed.
Loki approaches, his hands reaching out wearily.
As his hands finally grasp the object, you feel the faint memory of the feeling - ice immediately surging through his veins as the cold spreads from the touch. Slowly but surely, it pounded through him - a power unlike anything he had encountered or felt.
“Stop!” Odin’s voice called out.
(this will be much more impactful if you rewatch this scene from Thor. Tom Hiddleston's acting does this scene wonders)
Another flash - you saw what you could only assume to be Midgard, kneeling before him.
Another flash, chains locked around his wrists, ankles, and neck.
A prisoner of his own home.
An eerie similarity to the approach you had just made to stand in front of the dais.
Another flash, a white and empty room.
An illusion holding in place a facade of a man that no longer existed.
Hiding and pushing down every emotion that he would never dare to show.
Every feeling that held him down was incredibly familiar.
‘What is my purpose if not simply to die when Odin wills it so. What is my purpose when every promised moment of my life was wasted upon a lie.’
A sob left your throat.
You couldn’t tell if it was yours, his, or his memory.
Not until you were shot back into your own mind and the sobs continued.
Your arms found their way around him once more - this time, your body was making every subconscious attempt to both rid him of every ounce of hurt he’s ever felt while simultaneously trying to keep him together.
The weight of all that he carried with him was too much of a burden for one man.
And for him to still be capable of love? Of care? Of will and compassion for his people?
“I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for my past,” he muttered, his lips pressed to your hair as he held you.
“You did not deserve any of that, Loki. And you still do not deserve the way he speaks of you.”
He hummed in distant thought.
You pulled away, cupping his face between your hands, “You, Loki, are the definition of what a King should be. You embody the word in a way that even Odin has never touched,” you brushed a stray hair with your thumb, “You are worthy of the nine. Worthy enough to lead all who will follow.”
And finally, the breathtaking god - forever condemned in your mind as an immortal, untouchable deity - felt just as mortal as you.
He laughed, the melodic tone that you still had yet to get used to.
“Is this when I am supposed to drop down onto my knee once more?” His smile reached his eyes as he spoke, the lingering joy of his laughter trailing up through his cheeks.
You shook your head, “That was more than enough,” you whispered. Your lips find his once again.
This was home.
Not the realm.
Not the castle.
But him.
The faint graze of his fingertips as they brushed over your hand was enough to know your ring was back where it belonged.
Where it never should have left.
But alas, even when it was gone, the feeling still remained.
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