We Thought You Dead
We Thought You Dead
We Thought You Dead
A/N: Can be seen as a sequel for Lovers Reunited but was requested by a different user.
Also, I really let my fangirl thoughts go with this one. You’ll see.
You had been so thrilled to learn that Loki was to be released from prison to accompany his brother Thor in saving his mortal lover. A noble quest, really, and one that Loki had willingly agreed to. There were some citizens who believed that your love had only agreed in order to leave the dungeons and had no intentions of helping his adopted brother. You ignored such beliefs. You knew that his mind and emotions were mixed, love mixing with hate for everyone that he had grown up with, everyone that had lied to him. You knew the real Loki, and even if he didn’t know this Jane, deep down he cared, at least a tiny bit, for Thor, and wanted to help.
You were far less thrilled to learn that Loki had lost his life saving Thor’s and Jane’s. A noble death, really, but one that had you sinking to your knees, shoulders shaking violently, head buried in your hands as your body wracked with sobs and tears cascaded down your cheeks. There were some who believed that he never truly loved you, that he used you for his own freedom. You ignored such beliefs. Loki did love you – you just knew it. And he clearly loved Thor as well; why else would he risk his life on a foreign realm for the blond prince?
After his death, you spent many an hour locked away in your once shared chambers, sleeping and crying while huddled up in his emerald green satin sheets and black feather comforter. On any day that you were required to present yourself – a royal feast, a celebration, a meeting with Odin and his court – you did so. You bathed, combed and braided your hair, dressed in your best (f/c) gown. You presented yourself.
But your heart was never in it after he was gone. Your heart sagged heavily, weighing down your chest and your emotions.
Thor had returned to Midgard to be with Jane. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three offered their condolences to you now and then, and offered to distract you, but you declined. You knew that they were only being polite. None of them had forgiven Loki for anything that he had done. They believed that your lost love deserved to die. You wanted nothing to do with anyone who believed such things.
It’s a warm summer day and you’re hiding out in your chambers, curtains drawn to lock in the darkness of the room. You sit on your bed, atop the satin sheets and feather comforter, flipping through a photo album that Loki had created and given to you for your anniversary. It hurts to see memories of happier times. Each photo is a stab in the heart – the happier the photo, the deeper the stab. Tears would be threatening to fall should you have any tears left. But day after day of crying over your lost love has dried you up.
You sigh as a knock comes upon your door. “Who is it?” you call.
“The Allfather has requested your presence in the throne room,” a guard calls back.
“I will be right there,” you inform him, closing the photo album and standing in front of your wardrobe. You select your favorite (f/c) gown – it has long sleeves that puff out at the elbow, offering more bendability. The skirt reaches an inch above the floor and the outer layer is velvet. Soft white cotton makes up the inner layer and the trim.
Once dressed, you run a brush through your hair and braid it back away from your face. Satisfied with your ensemble, you leave your chambers and make your way to the throne room.
You knock on the door, awaiting a sign that you may enter.
“Enter,” Odin calls.
You open the door and bow respectfully. “You sent for me, my King?”
“Yes,” he replies, gesturing for you to step further into the room. “I had a few questions for you.”
“Yes, my King?”
“You were close to Loki, even closer than my late wife was,” he states.
“I liked to think so, Sir.”
“How did you come to be so close to him?”
“I…” you hesitate, thinking back. “I knew him before the incident with the Frost Giants. We were friends, he, Thor and I. When he would get upset that Thor was receiving all of the attention from the rest of the kingdom, I would sit with Loki. We would read or play games, or he would show me his magic. I knew that he was in Thor’s shadow and I tried to help him out of it. They are very different people, my Lord. I felt that there was no need for a shadow. Thor is Thor and Loki is- was, Loki.”
“I see,” the king replies, seeming to consider your answer. “And you grew to love him, did you not?”
A blush claims your cheeks as you nod. “Yes. That was also decided before the incident with the Frost Giants, though said incident did not change my emotions. I have always loved your son and I believe I always will, even if I may never see him again.”
“Even after all that he has done? Betraying his adopted family as well as his bloodline, attempting to kill Thor, attempting to conquer Midgard as its King and earning himself a lifetime in Asgard’s dungeons?”
“Yes, Sir. Call me naïve but Queen Frigga was not the only one who could see past his lies. I know what the citizens of Asgard say about him and I do not believe them. He was a good person, beneath it all. But he believed that he had been wronged and that he deserved revenge and a throne. He went about it all wrong but I do not believe that his thoughts were wrong.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you believe his actions were justified?” Odin asks, a tint of anger coating his voice. You wince, not wanting to lose your head for answering his questions.
“Not his actions, Allfather, just his reasons. With all due respect, he had every right to be angry with you for not informing him of his heritage. I understand that you and Queen Frigga kept it a secret to protect him, but he deserved to know, especially when he was blood-related to one of Asgard’s biggest enemies. Had you told him the truth when he was a child, he would have grown up very differently and he would have had time to process and accept that he was adopted. You gave him hardly any time to register, and that’s a big piece of news for anyone to take in. As for his desire to be king, you told him and Thor since they were children that they were both born to be kings, but you always knew that Thor was the successor to the throne. True, Loki was born to be a king because his biological father was the king of the Jötuns, but you led him to believe that he had a fighting chance of being king of Asgard. And, when you think about it, everyone has or had a throne except for him. You have the throne of Asgard, Thor was supposed to have the throne of Asgard, and Laufey has the throne of Jötunheim. Loki felt… left out.”
You look down, embarrassed by your rant. Odin watches you, his lip twitching with amusement.
“Very well,” he says. “Given all of that, I assume I was correct in guessing that your reason for locking yourself in your chambers for days on end is simply due to your missing Loki?”
Your cheeks heat with even more embarrassment. “Yes, sir. I know it’s rather pathetic of me to sleep all day and mourn, but… I cannot help myself. I do not mean to be dramatic but no one here understands, not even Thor. Only Frigga knew how I felt about her son, because she saw the good in him too. Everyone in Asgard believes that he deserved to die, and I cannot spend my days playing nice with an entire nation of people who despise my lost love.”
“One more question.”
You swear that voice sounds much less like Odin and much more like Loki, but you shake your head to yourself. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. Loki’s dead. He’s gone. Forever.
You look up to see what the question is, when your eyes widen and your mind goes blank. Sitting in the throne where Odin has just sat is Loki, grinning ear-to-ear.
“W-what?” you whisper.
“Hello, love,” he grins.
“But… how? You’re dead!”
Loki stands and crosses the room to stand before you. “It is a long and complicated tale, my love. We’ll have plenty of time for it later.”
You rush into his arms, burying your face in his chest. His arms encircle your upper back, his chin resting on your head.
“Did you truly mean all those things?” he inquired softly.
You look up at him and smile. “About me loving you and believing in you? Yes, I did.”
He doesn’t return your smile. He rests his forehead against yours, his green eyes boring into your own (e/c) orbs. You see the sadness, the fear, the remorse in his eyes. You were right – he’s a good person, deep down.
He kisses you, softly and sweetly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. Your hands rest on his chest, a soft sigh escaping your lips.
It’s been far too long.
“Promise me you’ll never leave again,” you whisper against his lips.
“I promise,” he agrees, “but you have to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“You cannot let anyone know that I am alive. Everyone must believe that I am dead and that Odin is king, at least for now.”
“Why?” you question, unsure that you can handle pretending that which had been real mere moments ago.
“As you said, the kingdom of Asgard prefers me dead,” Loki reminded. “Until I can come up with an appropriate way to ease the truth into the kingdom, we need to keep this quiet. I need to find a way for them to accept my return and my rulership.”
“It will be hard,” you inform him, resting your head on his chest. “But I’ll do it. For you.”
“Thank you, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I will come see you tonight, after ‘Odin’ goes to bed.”
“You’ll look like you, won’t you?” you plea. “I would enjoy embracing you far less if you still looked like Odin.”
He chuckles and kisses your nose. “Yes, it will be me. I’ll teleport between our chambers as to not raise suspicions as to why Odin’s sneaking around the kingdom at night.”
You giggle and nod. “I’ll be waiting for you then.”
He kisses you before releasing you. “Goodnight, (y/n).”
You sigh as he shifts back into Odin. “Goodnight, my King.”
A/N: Can be seen as a sequel for Lovers Reunited but was requested by a different user.
Also, I really let my fangirl thoughts go with this one. You’ll see.
You had been so thrilled to learn that Loki was to be released from prison to accompany his brother Thor in saving his mortal lover. A noble quest, really, and one that Loki had willingly agreed to. There were some citizens who believed that your love had only agreed in order to leave the dungeons and had no intentions of helping his adopted brother. You ignored such beliefs. You knew that his mind and emotions were mixed, love mixing with hate for everyone that he had grown up with, everyone that had lied to him. You knew the real Loki, and even if he didn’t know this Jane, deep down he cared, at least a tiny bit, for Thor, and wanted to help.
You were far less thrilled to learn that Loki had lost his life saving Thor’s and Jane’s. A noble death, really, but one that had you sinking to your knees, shoulders shaking violently, head buried in your hands as your body wracked with sobs and tears cascaded down your cheeks. There were some who believed that he never truly loved you, that he used you for his own freedom. You ignored such beliefs. Loki did love you – you just knew it. And he clearly loved Thor as well; why else would he risk his life on a foreign realm for the blond prince?
After his death, you spent many an hour locked away in your once shared chambers, sleeping and crying while huddled up in his emerald green satin sheets and black feather comforter. On any day that you were required to present yourself – a royal feast, a celebration, a meeting with Odin and his court – you did so. You bathed, combed and braided your hair, dressed in your best (f/c) gown. You presented yourself.
But your heart was never in it after he was gone. Your heart sagged heavily, weighing down your chest and your emotions.
Thor had returned to Midgard to be with Jane. Lady Sif and the Warriors Three offered their condolences to you now and then, and offered to distract you, but you declined. You knew that they were only being polite. None of them had forgiven Loki for anything that he had done. They believed that your lost love deserved to die. You wanted nothing to do with anyone who believed such things.
It’s a warm summer day and you’re hiding out in your chambers, curtains drawn to lock in the darkness of the room. You sit on your bed, atop the satin sheets and feather comforter, flipping through a photo album that Loki had created and given to you for your anniversary. It hurts to see memories of happier times. Each photo is a stab in the heart – the happier the photo, the deeper the stab. Tears would be threatening to fall should you have any tears left. But day after day of crying over your lost love has dried you up.
You sigh as a knock comes upon your door. “Who is it?” you call.
“The Allfather has requested your presence in the throne room,” a guard calls back.
“I will be right there,” you inform him, closing the photo album and standing in front of your wardrobe. You select your favorite (f/c) gown – it has long sleeves that puff out at the elbow, offering more bendability. The skirt reaches an inch above the floor and the outer layer is velvet. Soft white cotton makes up the inner layer and the trim.
Once dressed, you run a brush through your hair and braid it back away from your face. Satisfied with your ensemble, you leave your chambers and make your way to the throne room.
You knock on the door, awaiting a sign that you may enter.
“Enter,” Odin calls.
You open the door and bow respectfully. “You sent for me, my King?”
“Yes,” he replies, gesturing for you to step further into the room. “I had a few questions for you.”
“Yes, my King?”
“You were close to Loki, even closer than my late wife was,” he states.
“I liked to think so, Sir.”
“How did you come to be so close to him?”
“I…” you hesitate, thinking back. “I knew him before the incident with the Frost Giants. We were friends, he, Thor and I. When he would get upset that Thor was receiving all of the attention from the rest of the kingdom, I would sit with Loki. We would read or play games, or he would show me his magic. I knew that he was in Thor’s shadow and I tried to help him out of it. They are very different people, my Lord. I felt that there was no need for a shadow. Thor is Thor and Loki is- was, Loki.”
“I see,” the king replies, seeming to consider your answer. “And you grew to love him, did you not?”
A blush claims your cheeks as you nod. “Yes. That was also decided before the incident with the Frost Giants, though said incident did not change my emotions. I have always loved your son and I believe I always will, even if I may never see him again.”
“Even after all that he has done? Betraying his adopted family as well as his bloodline, attempting to kill Thor, attempting to conquer Midgard as its King and earning himself a lifetime in Asgard’s dungeons?”
“Yes, Sir. Call me naïve but Queen Frigga was not the only one who could see past his lies. I know what the citizens of Asgard say about him and I do not believe them. He was a good person, beneath it all. But he believed that he had been wronged and that he deserved revenge and a throne. He went about it all wrong but I do not believe that his thoughts were wrong.”
“Do you mean to tell me that you believe his actions were justified?” Odin asks, a tint of anger coating his voice. You wince, not wanting to lose your head for answering his questions.
“Not his actions, Allfather, just his reasons. With all due respect, he had every right to be angry with you for not informing him of his heritage. I understand that you and Queen Frigga kept it a secret to protect him, but he deserved to know, especially when he was blood-related to one of Asgard’s biggest enemies. Had you told him the truth when he was a child, he would have grown up very differently and he would have had time to process and accept that he was adopted. You gave him hardly any time to register, and that’s a big piece of news for anyone to take in. As for his desire to be king, you told him and Thor since they were children that they were both born to be kings, but you always knew that Thor was the successor to the throne. True, Loki was born to be a king because his biological father was the king of the Jötuns, but you led him to believe that he had a fighting chance of being king of Asgard. And, when you think about it, everyone has or had a throne except for him. You have the throne of Asgard, Thor was supposed to have the throne of Asgard, and Laufey has the throne of Jötunheim. Loki felt… left out.”
You look down, embarrassed by your rant. Odin watches you, his lip twitching with amusement.
“Very well,” he says. “Given all of that, I assume I was correct in guessing that your reason for locking yourself in your chambers for days on end is simply due to your missing Loki?”
Your cheeks heat with even more embarrassment. “Yes, sir. I know it’s rather pathetic of me to sleep all day and mourn, but… I cannot help myself. I do not mean to be dramatic but no one here understands, not even Thor. Only Frigga knew how I felt about her son, because she saw the good in him too. Everyone in Asgard believes that he deserved to die, and I cannot spend my days playing nice with an entire nation of people who despise my lost love.”
“One more question.”
You swear that voice sounds much less like Odin and much more like Loki, but you shake your head to yourself. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. Loki’s dead. He’s gone. Forever.
You look up to see what the question is, when your eyes widen and your mind goes blank. Sitting in the throne where Odin has just sat is Loki, grinning ear-to-ear.
“W-what?” you whisper.
“Hello, love,” he grins.
“But… how? You’re dead!”
Loki stands and crosses the room to stand before you. “It is a long and complicated tale, my love. We’ll have plenty of time for it later.”
You rush into his arms, burying your face in his chest. His arms encircle your upper back, his chin resting on your head.
“Did you truly mean all those things?” he inquired softly.
You look up at him and smile. “About me loving you and believing in you? Yes, I did.”
He doesn’t return your smile. He rests his forehead against yours, his green eyes boring into your own (e/c) orbs. You see the sadness, the fear, the remorse in his eyes. You were right – he’s a good person, deep down.
He kisses you, softly and sweetly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. Your hands rest on his chest, a soft sigh escaping your lips.
It’s been far too long.
“Promise me you’ll never leave again,” you whisper against his lips.
“I promise,” he agrees, “but you have to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“You cannot let anyone know that I am alive. Everyone must believe that I am dead and that Odin is king, at least for now.”
“Why?” you question, unsure that you can handle pretending that which had been real mere moments ago.
“As you said, the kingdom of Asgard prefers me dead,” Loki reminded. “Until I can come up with an appropriate way to ease the truth into the kingdom, we need to keep this quiet. I need to find a way for them to accept my return and my rulership.”
“It will be hard,” you inform him, resting your head on his chest. “But I’ll do it. For you.”
“Thank you, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I will come see you tonight, after ‘Odin’ goes to bed.”
“You’ll look like you, won’t you?” you plea. “I would enjoy embracing you far less if you still looked like Odin.”
He chuckles and kisses your nose. “Yes, it will be me. I’ll teleport between our chambers as to not raise suspicions as to why Odin’s sneaking around the kingdom at night.”
You giggle and nod. “I’ll be waiting for you then.”
He kisses you before releasing you. “Goodnight, (y/n).”
You sigh as he shifts back into Odin. “Goodnight, my King.”