When you were younger, you used to wait for him. For the handsome boy with a dark attitude to rain down from the window, landing right beside you. You used to wait with excitement, hardly being able to contain it.

Then you grew up. He began to notice that you weren't just a friend to play in the mud with anymore. He began to notice you.

You thought it was going to happen. That night, when you wore your green dress to that ball, and he danced with you for hours. You thought it was going to happen. And it did. In the courtyard, where you used to wait, he kissed you. But that was it.

The handsome boy with a dark attidude grew colder and stormier. You began to notice that he wasn't just a boy to admire from his side anymore. You had to step back.

You cried when you heard of his death. You and his mother held on to each other, both knowing exactly what the other wanted. One more hug. One more kiss. One last goodbye.

You cried when you heard of his survival. And then carried on crying, but for a different reason. That handsome boy who pushed you into the mud and danced with you all night and kissed you in the courtyard was gone. All that was left was a handsome man with a dark attidude and darker dreams.

He went to prison twice. You visited him the first time, but even then only said one word.

"Why?"

He just gazed past you, like you weren't even worthy of his glance anymore.


Five years it took. Five years of blood and screams and forgiveness and silence. Not from him. The silence was all from you- not that he noticed. He was the Prince of Asgard, whether people liked it or not. His brother was gone, completely out of the picture, except for his random visits with that human girl of his.

There was a ball on, to commemorate the Queen. She was a beautiful woman. She'd held you for days at a time, both of you letting all the guilt and depression and fury out of yourselves. Droplet by droplet.

You wore a green dress and a mask. Your hair lay in curls on one shoulder. He smiled at you, about to ask you to dance. You turned and ran.

It was cold in the courtyard. The tears stung your cheeks, each one of them leaving trails of firey ice behind them.

Five years it took. Five years of guilt and screams and depression and silence. Not from you. The silence was all from him now.


Your legs were shaking as you rose. Your mother had finally realised that you were not going to find a man by yourself, and allowed it that Odin chose your husband. Now you were just another girl, another bubbleheaded dreamer in the long line of bubbleheaded dreamers.

"Katherine." He murmured. You courtseyed. Your dress was blue, a simple style with no pattern. Odin. He recognised you. He caught you and his wife once, both of you still red-eyed and stuffy-nosed. All he'd done was nod and leave.

"You do not want to do this, do you?" He asked. You looked into his blue eyes. They were warm. So unlike his son's.

"No. But if I do not do this, what future do I have?" You replied. Your voice was stronger and louder than you expected. Your mother was clenching her jaw as the crowd muttered. Odin smiled at you.

"You have a beautiful one. That's if you listen to my offer."

You listened. The crowd listened. The bubble headed dreamers in the line listened. The handsome man with the dark attitude and darker memories clenched his jaw, trying to catch you gaze as you considered.

You gazed past him, nodding, like he wasn't even worthy of your glance anymore.


When you were younger, you used to wait for him. Under the wall in the courtyard, excitement like bile in your throat.

Then you grew up. He grew colder and stormier. You had to step back.

One more hug. One more kiss. One last goodbye.

Your bag was packed, sitting beside your legs. No dress today. When you looked in the mirror, your mother had smiled weakly and said you looked like a warrior already. You were a bit too slim, and a bit too quiet, but it'd have to do.

You were leaving soon. Everyone had said their words. Now it was just you, gazing at a wall in a courtyard no one ever used anymore.

"Katherine."

Your name still made you shiver when it came from him. It had been years since you last heard it.

"Katherine. What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving." You whisper. Your voice is no longer strong or loud. It's weak and quiet, but he still hears it. The words still bite him, like tiny insects prowling across his skin.

"Why?"

That was the last thing you said to him. All those years ago, in that dark corridor, with the jeering of other criminals behind you. Not your handsome boy though. He couldn't be one of them. He couldn't have been, could he?

"Why do you care anymore?" You ask instead of answering. You don't really know what the answer is, just that that option was so much better than any of the others you could find.

"Of course I care. How could you think that I don't?"

You face him. His eyes weren't cold, but they weren't warm either. They were far from innocent, but not tragically treacherous. They were his.

"When was the last time you talked to me?" You asked. He thought about it.

"Too long ago. But that doesn't matter. I was trying to protect you! If they knew what you meant to me, then they'd use you. I couldn't let them do that."

"You couldn't let them think that you had a weakness." You sum up. Your voice is still quiet, but it still catches him, a dart caught in the breeze.

"You're not my weakness!" His eyes freezed for a few seconds, and then he stepped back. "You're just...you. You're Katherine. I didn't want you to become my weakness."

You nod. It's getting dark. You should be leaving soon.

"Stay." He whispers, reaching for your hands. "Stay with me. I'll fix it. I promise."

Green. The colour of those eyes. The colour of a thousand different dresses in a thousand different shades.

One more hug. One more kiss. One last goodbye.

You reach up for him, holding him close. He's stiff beneath your fingers, but only because he knows that it wasn't your agreement.

"Goodbye." You whispered, quieter than ever before, and you left. You don't dare look back, because you aren't even worthy of his glance anymore.


Green.

The colour of his eyes when you opened your door.

The colour of a thousand different dreams in a thousand different shades.

The colour of the band wrapped around your finger, reflecting a million courtyard wishes back at you.

"Katherine."

You smile.

When you were younger, you used to wait for him. For the handsome boy with a dark attitude to rain down from the window, landing right beside you. You used to wait with excitement, hardly being able to contain it.

Then you grew up. Now he waits for you. For the pretty girl with a quiet voice to walk down the aisle, landing right beside him. He waits with excitement and worry, hardly being able to contain it.

"Loki." You reply, reaching for his hand. He takes it in his, and with the crowd's eyes and voices trained on you, he bends down and kisses you.

Five years it took. Five years of dreaming and worrying and searching and finding.

He just gazes at you, like no one else will ever be worthy of his glance anymore.


Author's Note

This is my first fanfic on this site, though it's just a oneshot. Still, I hope you liked it, and maybe leave a review? :)