It was set in the fine threads of Yggdrasil, that they were never to be with one another, or the world as they know would cease to exist. Loki's tired of it. He wants this more than anything. But will you give up your safety net? Could you risk it a...
Waking up to a little blue popsicle wasn't ever on your bucket list, however, you couldn't complain when you wrapped your body around his. He was such a petite thing, despite being so humongously massive. If you looked at Loki, you'd never be able to tell he liked being cuddled, nor that he loved being the little spoon.
His body was refreshingly cold, and as the events of last night came rushing back into your memory, his frosty nude back provided you with relief to your already aching mind.
Let yourself be loved.
The words lingered in your mind, desperate to believe them. After so much betrayal, so much hurt, so much anger; it wasn't an easy task. You wanted to love Loki, you really did. So when he asked you to join him in bed, just to sleep, and nothing more, you obliged. You held his body in yours, and he never breathed a word.
You looked down at your own body, admiring the vibrant azure. The icy pink markings running down your hands made you somewhat grateful for your heritage. It was difficult enough to accept it and even worse to inform others of its dangerous nature, be they not a frost giant themselves. It was even harder to find a partner who was also a descendant of the jotunn, just so your unborn child wouldn't have defects caused by outbreeding. The Princess of Vanaheimr and heir to the right hand of the king of Jotunheimr was problematic enough.
Loki on the other hand, seemed to miraculously fit all those boxes, everything, even the pieces to your smashed heart. He had that stupid smile, and laugh, and his eyes crinkled in the most adorable ways. His mind was a wonder in and of itself, with its incredible reasoning and connections, its abilities. Their ability to make you smile till your cheeks hurt and then make your heart feel as if it would fall out of its cage. They were yours.
And yet, it seemed, the universe was telling you no.
You wouldn't stand for it any longer.
Too much has been stolen from you, your family, your love. Asgard was your only comfort, its people and its beauty. Loki was one of your only comforts. You had seen too many versions of you, quite similar to the next, ending in the same fate as always— a precipitate death.
You'd snatch it now if you had to. You'd steal. You'd lie. You'd burn the frail leaves of Yggdrasil if you must, but you wouldn't dare let fate seize your happiness from you.
Loki started to stir, their muscles flexed against your cerulean complexion. They turned to face you then, their chest naked, and their legs entangled with yours. It was a sight to see.
No words came from their mouth, as though unsure of what to say themselves.
"Takk for at du tålte min kjærlighet," he spoke after a while, his Norse slightly rusty, "I know my reasons for hating my... origins, but you've known yours forever, and yet... you despise it more than I."
You sighed, feeling a little too aware of your own appearance laying in bed, "Imagine a child with no leg, it is not allowed to play with the rest, for something it cannot control."
Loki stared into your eyes, tracing the little ridges and markings on your face with his fingers. He pictured as you continued, "A child with an amputee, however, is allowed to play, but it is not persecuted as the limbless child is."
"I've known all my life that I'm Vanir-Jotun, an impure breed, rejected by both communities of my heritage. You, however, you were a prince, albeit treated unfairly, and still received care and safety.
It hurts knowing that the reason most beings from the Nine despise me is due to something purely out of my control."
Silence followed. It was too harsh to speak, a single syllable would slice through thin air.
"Gljúfrabúi," your mouth chanted, reimagining the earth.
Loki stared at you, sitting up, his eyes a scarlet hue. The waterfall?
You nodded, tracing down the lines his markings formed with your beady eyes. Loki would be lying if he said you weren't incredibly sexy. Maybe it was him being in heat after finding a jotunn mate to copulate with, or maybe it was him being insatiably obsessed with the sight of you. So gorgeous, so blue, so perfect between his fingers and mouth.
"I've heard Iceland is majestic this time of year."
His lips pursed into a fine line, smiling softly at the thought of visiting the caverns with you.
"May I have a kiss?" He asked.
"No," you smiled, covering your mouth with your hand, "Not until we reach Reykjavík."
\-/
Flight tickets are goddamn expensive.
That was definitely your first thought standing at the gate of the terminal. Perhaps travelling there on wheels would have been cheaper.
Loki sat at the terminal, a book in his hands that he so mischievously '"borrowed" from a nearby bookstore. He wasn't quite as blue anymore, but was still his pale, soft shade of Aureolin. His turtleneck hid the profanity of your efforts and his hair was tied into a neat, but messy-looking bun, as though to put the effort of the shirt to waste.
You stared, watching him, admiring him. Psycho analysing every detail he gave you. The lick of his lips at the turn of every page, his rapid blinking every time he moved to a new one, and every time he started a new book, his legs crossed themselves alternatingly. Fascinating creature.
You sipped on your coffee as you watched him across the seats. How lucky you were. Maybe you could even have a bit of mischief.
Give yourself time, your mind screamed, He isn't going anywhere. Heal yourself.
It hurt, being so close and yet so far. Being told to put more effort when you're already draining yourself just to please the next person. It hurts to detach yourself from the people you love, just so they don't see the horrid side of you that made you want to slice your veins open and map them on a wall for a final display. All so they don't leave.
Loki won't leave. He promised you he would be there.
"What are you thinking about, Darling?"
Shit.
"You, mostly," you sighed. Best to place your cards on the table than for him to snatch them from under it, "Thanks for taking this trip with me."
"Of course, Love." his smooth voice flowed and he diverted his attention back to whatever he was reading, smirking at the sight of your heated face.
Fuck him and his stupid nicknames that make you flustered.
Oh yes. You will fuck him. Eventually.
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