Evangeline
Loki Laufeyson Love Story One-Shot
The stars were different tonight. They glistened and glimmered above him in ways he'd never seen before, not in all of his one thousand and forty eight years. It would seem as if the stars knew this was a special night for him, so they'd all agreed to put on a unique display of tiny fireworks, but just for this one September night. They were dancing to the music the full moon was making with its pale luminescence. Twinkling, brighter and brighter, in a perfect, beautiful harmony, and if he looked hard enough, they almost seemed to have a bluish tint to them. A bluish tint, that he would know anywhere. A bluish tint that he had fallen madly in love with.
The stars looked like her eyes.
Loki Laufeyson stood outside the walls of the palace, cool, fresh autumn wind against his cheek. He was barely noticeable in the dark of the night due to the fact they he was clothed in all black robes, allowing him to blend with the shadows. His eyes were piercing up at the moonlit sky, his green irises reflecting the glow of the stars. If someone was to stumble upon him now, they might have thought he was stargazing.
But Loki Laufeyson did not stargaze. His mind was somewhere else entirely.
His mind was on her.
He closed his eyes, twirling something delicately beneath his fingertips. It was a small, golden necklace, gleaming in the moonlight, a fair locket strung on its chain. The gold metal was cool beneath his touch. Just like her skin was.
Loki couldn't help but smile when he saw her. She was seated at the desk in her room, her pale fingers typing vigorously on the keyboard. Her blue eyes were focused and determined, her golden hair wound into a bun at the top of her head, so loose that several strands fell out every time she blew the long bangs out of her eyes. He knew this stance immediately; it meant that she, the Queen of Procrastination, had to hurry to finish something that was due tomorrow. This was quite typical for her.
If it had been anyone else, he would've taken it upon himself to chide them for laziness. But because it was her, his smile grew only broader. She was not just the Queen of Procrastination. She was his queen, and he had made a point to make that fact crystal clear to her. He told her how she would one day rule this world alongside him, grace this pathetic world with being their glorious queen. He told her how beautiful of a ruler she would be, how her subjects would look to her with admiration and envy.
But, to his disappointment, she never took him seriously. She laughed every time.
"Saved it until the last minute, didn't you, darling?" Loki said suddenly. The girl jumped, violently pulled out of her determined state. She whipped around to face him, blue eyes wide with shock.
"Loki!" she cried. "I told you not to sneak up on me like that! Good God, don't do those kinds of things! You surprised me so much, I very nearly had a heart attack!"
Loki smirked, legs taking long strides towards the tiny girl. "I am the God of Mischief," he drawled coolly. "You honestly cannot expect me to not try and frighten you."
The girl folded her arms across her chest. It took all of him to hold back the laugh that was forming in his chest. That stance combined with her full cheeks made her look like an angry two-year-old.
"I was working," she said, trying to sound irritated, but Loki knew better. He'd been gone for weeks, and he could tell that it was taking all her strength not to jump into his arms and pepper his face with kisses.
"I saw," he said, his arm slithering around her tiny waist. "And you are most beautiful when you are so very determined." He drawled out the word like it was a delicacy, sipping slowly it like it was perfectly aged wine. He wrapped both his arms around her, drawing her close to him. He reveled in his love being in his arms again. He'd been away on Asgard for far longer than he should've been, and it had been unbearable to not have her by his side.
"What do you say," he whispered in her ear, his lips trailing up and down her soft flesh. "How about you put that petty work aside for a few hours, and we go about the world for a bit?"
"Tempting," the girl whispered, her fingers running through his silken black hair. "But I do need to get this finished… My grade is relying on it."
"Those grades don't matter," Loki murmured into her skin, inhaling her lavender scent deeply. Oh, how he'd missed that! "I can teach you everything you have to know about life," he kissed her neck sensually. "And love." The girl was about to protest until he caught her lips in his, kissing her deeply, sensually. "And your grades will not matter when you rule over them," he hummed against her lips.
"Loki…" she whispered as his deft fingers pulled her hair from the messy bun, allowing her blonde hair to cascade down her back in flawless, ringlet curls. "You know I don't want to be a queen…"
"Come, now," Loki said, his intoxicating breath fanning across her lips. "Every girl wants to be a queen. The riches, the jewels, the power…"
"No," the girl said, pushing his raven hair from his eyes. He adored when she did that. "Just this king will do for me." Her full mouth placed a tender kiss on his thin lips, and he couldn't help but bite gently at her plump bottom lip. He smirked into their kiss as a small moan rumbled in her throat.
"We'd best be quiet," he said into the corner of her mouth. "Lest your father should hear again."
"How many times has he told you to never come back?"
"Twenty seven, to be exact. With very vulgar vocabulary," Loki said with a smirk. "And I do believe the last time he threatened to castrate me if I ever returned."
The girl's brows furrowed. "I thought he said he'd do that if he ever found out if we had sex," she said. Loki's smirk grew into a blazing smile. That smile made her heart melt every time he flashed it, which he did very rarely, even in her presence.
"He did," Loki said. "Speaking of which, did he ever find out that I was the one to take your virginity?"
"Nope," the girl said, popping the 'p' at the end.
"What an eventful night that was," he remarked, his mind flashing back to that night when he lay on her bed above her, kissing down her neck sweetly, tenderly, gently, allowing her to regain her breath as her breast heaved from their glorious love-making. He remembered how her ocean-blue eyes had turned murky with lust. They did every time he made love to her. His favorite part would always be watching the lust drain from her eyes, returning them back to clear, innocent.
"Care to recreate?" he offered with a mischievous smile. She laughed, and the sound, he was sure, was the most beautiful he'd heard in all the Nine Realms. It was like a delightful kind of music, like the light tinkling of bells. His heart soared every time he had the pleasure of hearing it.
"Not tonight," she said. "I'd rather just enjoy your company."
He raised an eyebrow. "No longer worried about that essay?" he asked. She shrugged.
"It's not like you'll let me work on it anyway," she said. He sat down slowly on the blue couch that lay beside her desk, pulling her to straddle his hips.
"What is your work about?" Loki asked, brushing a curl out of her eyes as she made herself comfortable in his lap.
"A poem," she said, her fingertip tracing the ornate embellishments on his armor. "It's for my Literature class. We were studying American authors."
"And?" Loki asked, wanting more information. Though he didn't like Midguard and deemed its works silly, he could listen to her go on for hours about famous artists, authors, and their masterpieces. A certain sparkle came into her eye, and it reminded him of the first time he laid his eyes on her in a simple Midguardian coffee shop, scribbling poetry into her red velvet notebook.
"It's called Annabel Lee," she said. "The author, Edgar Allan Poe, goes about the hurt and sorrow of losing a loved one. It's quite beautiful, actually. You should read it," she suggested.
"Perhaps," he said, considering thoughtfully, his hands trailing sensually up and down her curves. "But I do believe that real beauty is sitting right here before me in my arms."
She rolled her eyes. "You like to flatter with that silver tongue of yours."
"Only when it comes to you," Loki responded, his green eyes locking with hers. "You are truly exquisite." His words made her blush. He smiled, his fingertips found her neck, tracing around the golden locket that hung delicately around her neck. He had given it as a gift to her not too long ago as a symbol of his love for her. The locket was a thin golden oval, studded with dark green emeralds that lined the edges gracefully. It hung just above her rounded breasts on a golden chain, accentuating her fair skin.
Her fingers gently pulled his hand away from the necklace, and she placed his hand around her waist. She slid closer to him, arms winding around his neck, hands lifting to the back of his head, curling and twisting into the his soft, slick locks. Her lips placed a full, gentle kiss on his mouth. Every time they kissed, it sent electricity though both their bodies. His arms wound around her tightly, crushing her body to his. He needed her like he needed air. Their lips moved in harmony, the tips of his long hair tickling her face as she angled her head to the side, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Hey, honey?" her dad called from the opposite side. Her lips pulled from his in a gasp, her body tensing with worry. Loki, however, simply pulled her closer, like he was without a care in the world.
"I'm still working, Dad!" she called as Loki's slender fingers moved her hair away from her neck.
"Alright, hun. I'm running out to the store for a bit. Your little sister's downstairs, but I'll be back soon enough," her dad said.
"Alright," she said, and gasped when Loki began to kiss down her neck. "Loki," she giggled, and his lips pressed into the golden locket, the token of his love for her. He kissed back up to her lips, capturing them in a passionate kiss, taking all the love he felt for her and pouring it into the kiss.
"I love you," he whispered when they broke apart.
"I love you, too," she whispered back honestly. And it was true, for the both of them. The love they felt was like nothing they'd ever experienced before, and each time they were together it only grew stronger. Theirs was one that could not die, or break, not with a thousand swords.
Loki smirked into her skin, and nipped at her neck playfully. "My queen," Loki said.
She laughed.
Loki shuddered, though there was no chill in the air. He shook his head, black hair rippling, desperately trying to push the memory out of his mind. All memories—memories of her—tugged too violently at his heartstrings.
He hadn't said her name in what felt like ages. He couldn't bring himself to—It was too painful. Every time he tried, the letters swelled in his throat and choked him. He swallowed hard. Her name had once tasted like honey, and he loved the way it bubbled against his lips and rolled from his tongue. Her name was sweet to say, sweet to hear. But it soon became bittersweet, entwined with all the memories he was trying so hard to forget.
For a weak second, he tried to force the memories back. They caused too much agony to his already shattered heart. She was too much to bear anymore. He couldn't. He just couldn't.
Then a whisper came from the moon.
Remember.
Every muscle in his body relaxed instantly. His eyes closed. He wanted to remember, more than anything. He'd grown tired of fighting her memories away. They were the closest things he had to her anymore. But they caused so much hurt, so much anguish…
And yet, he could almost see her, somewhere far off in the distance. Her waist length blonde curls swirling in the wind, complementing her pale skin brilliantly. Her aquamarine eyes were vibrant and alive, capable of reading his every thought. Those eyes never judged him, but instead loved every part of him. And he loved her back, more than she would ever know.
He nearly smiled. Her voice was always so full of life and excitement. That voice had whispered to him when he was asleep, sang to him when he was ill, calmed him when he flew wildly into one of his rages. The wind whipped against his face. She was always so soft, so gentle, the only person ever able to soothe him when he felt like he was about to lose his mind and explode on the entire world. Her touch had been so pure that night, scared, even.
Loki took a deep breath, and his last memory of her pushed forth.
He never wanted this day to come. He was surrounded by white. White walls, white bed, white appliances, beeping white heart monitor in the corner. He sat in an unbelievably uncomfortable white chair, one that made his legs cramp and his back ache. Any other day, he would have thrown a fit and demanded to speak with the mewling fool who upheld this place. But Loki didn't so much as rise from his seat. He barely even noticed the dull pain his body was in, because there was fiercer pain demanding his attention.
In his heart.
It swelled and ached and cracked, unable and unwilling to accept the certain situation at hand. He'd done various forms of magic—charms, spells, and potions—to prevent this day from coming. But fate and destiny weren't too fond of him, and this day had come anyway. He knew it would.
He stroked her frail, bony hand as she lay in the hospital bed. Her eyes were closed, different tubes running up and down her throat simply to keep her breathing. His love was worn, tired, sickly. His thumb soothed over her pale skin, which was more delicate now than it had ever been. He was mindful of the IV than pierced into her vein, distributing the necessary vitamins into her body.
Seeing her like this made him want to cry. But he wouldn't. He knew he had to be strong, for her sake. This was the time when she needed him the most.
Slowly, she stirred, his touch pulling her back to him. It was rare nowadays that she was awake, her body too weary to allow her to do anything other than sleep. Loki leaned forward, ready to attend to any of her needs. Her eyes opened, revealing those blue irises that he loved so dearly. But those eyes had lost their sparkle long ago, and all he wanted was for that sparkle to come back. He'd give up anything, everything—the sun, the moon, air, his own life—just to see that sparkle back in her eyes.
She turned to him, drained and spent. "Loki…" she murmured, her voice frayed and croaky. "Loki, darling…"
"Yes, love?" Loki said, bringing her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips delicately. "Do you need anything? Water, food? More medicine? I can call in the nurses now…"
She shook her head, and he could tell that even an action as small as that was a struggle for her. She looked almost at war with herself. Her cracked lips opened again.
"Have I lived a good life?"
Loki wasn't sure how to answer that question. He looked at the girl he loved, the girl he fell in love with so many years ago. But she wasn't the same giggling girl she used to be. Her hair was no longer long and blonde, but short, gray, and scarcer in some places than others. The fullness of her cheeks had faded into hollow grooves, like a skeleton's, their youthfulness replaced with wrinkles and lines. She'd grown shorter over time, her back hunching over, making it difficult for her to walk, let alone dance like she once loved to. Her skin had become paler, wrinkled and dotted with dark age spots. Crows feet now streaked the sides of her once vibrant eyes, and her plump lips had grown thin and cracked. And he knew that on the inside, her lungs were giving away. Every beat was a struggle for her dear, old heart. The inevitable happened to his mortal love—she had grown old.
But he still loved her just the same.
"Of course you have lived a good life," Loki said, reaching up to cup her wrinkled face. "You have lived a full ninety three years of wonderful, beautiful life." His words were sincere, but there was still doubt in her eyes. "Here, I'll show you," he offered. "Remember this?" He lifted her hand so she could gaze upon the golden wedding band that was still wrapped securely around her bony finger. He had to get it resized a few times, but the diamonds encrusted into it continued to remind him of the evening he got down on one knee in the middle of Central Park.
He smiled brightly up at her. "That was the happiest day of my life, darling. The day that I was able to take you," he kissed the ring for emphasis. "As my beautiful bride. You were absolutely radiant that day, love, in that elegant long-sleeved dress. And I have to say, backless was always a good look for you."
That brought a smile to the old woman's face, causing her wrinkles to deepen. She shook her head slightly. "You flatter me still," she said, her words almost a sigh. "You always did, with that golden tongue of yours."
"But of course," he said, and kissed her hand once more. His long fingers reached to the bedside table. "And what about this?" he said, holding up the colorful picture of them, his arm wrapped around her, two boys at their feet with a shying girl at Loki's side. It instantly brought a smile to her elderly features.
"Our children," he said. "Just more signs that the life you lived was beautiful."
The old woman's smile grew broader, and she laughed. The sound was still music to his ears, still a tinkling symphony of bells. Though time had changed her, aged her, there was one thing about her that had always remained the same—her laugh.
"Yes," she agreed, gazing at the picture with nothing but love in her eyes. "Marcus and Carson were always so silly, weren't they?" she said, referring to the twin boys—one blonde, one brunette—who were screwing up their faces to the camera. Then her laughter stopped, and she sighed tenderly. "And Caroline," she said, studying the little girl in the picture smiling shyly, who had inherited her mother's curly blonde hair. "My sweet, sweet little Caroline. She was always the wallflower."
"Just like her mother used to be," Loki said, smiling affectionately at the picture.
"Only until you came along," the old woman remarked. Her eyes met his, tired sapphire meeting immortal emerald. "Did I really have a good life, Loki?" she asked, still doubtful. "Did I really?"
"Of course," he said. "And our wedding and three beautiful children were just a part of that. Still, there was so much more. Like how we used to hunt for old records in those ridiculous antique shops you dragged me into, or when we'd spend all day in bed." The woman's face turned into a smile again, so Loki continued. "Or when you made me read you poetry all night when you were sick… When we figured out the lyrics to our own lullaby for Caroline, or when we decided it would be a good idea to steal Thor's cape. Those were glorious moments, love. Those moments were the both of us, just living, appreciating all life had to offer."
The old woman's girlish laughter was faint, barely there, and he could tell it was a difficult struggle for her to just keep breathing, to keep herself from slipping into oblivion. She raised her frail hand to his youthful cheek. He placed a delicate kiss to her palm in response, leaning into the fading warmth of her dying essence. Then, through closed eyes and kissing lips, he relayed her favorite memory. "Remember how we would play music night after night? That was our ritual, love, and one I wish never had to end. We'd dance and dance until our feet hurt, without a care under the night of the stars." His eyes flickered to his love. "Those were our best moments in life, darling. The moments when it was just you and I, and that graceful music. No words. Just us. Just love, and the stars."
"Loki," she whispered weakly, and the man grasped the hand that was against his cheek, as if the action could somehow keep this horrible thing from happening. He squeezed his eyes shut, the tears burning in his eyes, threatening to spill over. "Loki, darling, look at me."
The god lifted his head slowly, taking in the appearance of his reason for life, his dying love. The sight made a tear spill over his cheek, made him wish that he could die along with her, too.
"Don't cry for me, love," she whispered, her voice weak as she wiped away his tear with her lined thumb. "Don't' cry. This has to happen. It's a part of life."
"No," he said, almost growling. "You can't leave me. You're my life, you always will be. I don't know what I'll do without you. You were supposed to be my queen, remember? How can a king be expected to live without his queen?" His tear-filled eyes flickered up to hers. "I can't do this alone, love."
She looked at him, sadness swimming in her aged eyes. "You're going to have to."
The words had the power to crush him. These many years, these seventy six years, had gone by all to fast. So fast, they had been nothing but a blur. And now they were left here, with her at Death's door, with Death beckoning his queen further and further away with every breath she took.
"Loki," she said, brushing his black hair out of his eyes, a motion that reminded him of when she used to do that when they were young. "My king, just promise me one thing."
"Anything," he said instantly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Name it, love, and it will be done."
"The stars," she said almost inaudibly. "I'm going to be with the stars soon. That's where I'll go when this life comes to an end. I'll be one with them, the same stars that we used to dance under. And before I am gone, just promise me one thing." The god leaned forward, caressing her hand again. "When you look up to the stars at night, think of me, because I'll be up there, one of them, watching down over you."
"You'll be the brightest one up there," he said weakly. "A blazing beauty. You always were."
"I love you, Loki."
"I love you more, my darling, my love, my queen. Until the end of time." He leaned forward, pressing gentle lips against her forehead.
"Stay with me," she murmured.
"Always."
And he did. He didn't leave her side that day, the thought didn't even cross his mind. He stayed, planted firmly by her bedside, stroking her hand and kissing her cheek until the heart monitor beeped louder, her eyes grew distant, and she softly murmured, "I love you…" for one final time. Her hand went limp in his hand, and the king bowed his head, tears streaming down his face.
For his queen had passed on.
That was the last time he saw her. That was the last time the king would ever lay eyes on his queen. That was the last time he would ever hear her whisper, "I love you," through those perfect lips of hers. That was the last time he'd ever hear her tinkling laugh.
It had only been a month, one month since his queen had greeted Death. One month, and it was crushing him. He had returned to Asgard, unable to bear life on Midguard without her. Everything he saw reminded him of her.
He ran a hand through his black locks, wishing he could feel her brush his hair out of his eyes again. It had been such a comforting gesture, one she had done since she was seventeen, one that he would never get the pleasure of feeling again. He gripped the golden locket tighter in his hand. It had gleamed so brightly around her neck that one night, that one night so very long ago…
"I finally read that poem, love," he said, looking up at the stars, knowing that one of them was her. "That poem, Annabel Lee. It's been years, but you always were one to say better late then never, yes?" He sighed deeply, winding the locket's gold chain between his fingers. "For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams of the beautiful Annabel Lee," he quoted, reciting the poetry flawlessly. "And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful Annabel Lee." The words laced together so perfectly what he felt.
"You were right, love," he said. "The poem, it is tragic. So tragic, it brought tears to my eyes the first time I read it. But, just like you said, it is also quite beautiful."
I told you so, came a whisper in the night. The crisp wind kissed his cheek gently, and for a moment he heard tinkling laughter, could've sworn he caught a glimpse of long blonde curls. The air blew through his raven hair, sweeping it away from his eyes. But then the wind was gone, and so was the bell-like laughter.
His eyes found the brightest star in the sky, twinkling a sweet shade of blue. It seemed to almost be smiling down at him. He forced a smile up at her, somehow knowing that up there, in the night sky, it was her, just like she had promised him.
"You do light up the sky, love," he said, tears prickling. "And I will join you one day up in the sky, my darling. But for now, keep your king strong. Lend me your strength. Let me see your light on my darkest days. I will never get over your death, love. There is no other queen for me. There is only you, and I will never forgive Death for taking you from me. But I will not lay down and become a blubbering mess, because I know that would only make you angry with me, and I will not have you mad at me that I am wasting your memory away. So stay with me, love. Stay with me, as I stayed with you. Stay with me when I conquer Midguard, because my life has no meaning without you. My heart has grown cold without your warmth. You were the only light for me on that mewling planet, especially after we lost our children so young. Stay with me, my queen, my darling, for I love you more than I have ever loved anyone before. It has always been that way, and it always will be."
The wind gusted again, and he felt a faint kiss on his neck. She was gone, but she was still with him. And as he gazed up at her blue star one last time, he knew she was always there.
His star, his love, his life, his dove. His sun, his moon, his Annabel Lee, his queen—Evangeline.
Well, eleven pages and hours after I should've gone to bed… This is finally done! I hope I didn't make any of y'all too sad. So this was supposed to be a sad little one-shot that I thought of while watching Thor with my friend. We were wondering why Loki was so evil and cruel, so we started quoting Harry Potter. She said, "Don't pity the dead, pity the living, and above all, those who live without love." So my hyperactive mind went crazy before I could stop it, and I thought to myself, "Hey, what if Loki didn't live without love, but his love died and that's what made him so cold?" And then this one-shot happened, along with a bit of inspiration from when I was watching The Princess and the Frog (stop judging me). And I will turn into a full story after I finish writing Dancing In the Darkness, which will take a little while. I really hoped you all liked this one-shot, and please review it because I'm super eager to know if I did a good job and all of your thoughts! Thanks for reading, love y'all!
-Charlotte