It had been years, three long years since she had last seen him. That day, after she tried to take Camelot and fell in the forest, so near to death she could taste it, he came to her. A strange man, with an aura of undeniable power. Little did she know, he was a God. He told her everything. Told her how he had been watching her from the skies. Told her about his brother and how he had been lied to about who he truly was. As he tended to her life, it did not take long for her to realize the affinity they shared. A bond formed between them, romantic yet challenging. Morgana could not recall trusting someone so deeply since her sister, which was ironic since Loki was the God of Lies himself. Though, she seemed to perceive right through him.
Some months they spent together as she healed. It took some time, but he also found a way to unbind her magic. There was knowledge in him that she was constantly astounded by. A desire to rule that matched her own. It was her that pushed him to pursue his right, the throne of Asgard, and he that got her back on her feet to take Camelot. As both of them took their plans to action, it was understandable that they did not see each other often. Eventually though, he just stopped coming back...
There was no way she could know how he was thrown down by his brother from his rule and discarded by his liar father. No way to know that his plot had been foiled and he was now consumed with the idea of taking Midgard. Often, he thought of her, but denied himself the pleasure of her company, feeling that it was a risk to see her. Besides, after what had happened, he felt like a failure. He felt insecure, lost and forsaken. How could he present himself to her, being the broken man that he was? When Midgard was in his grasp, he would return for her, that's what he told himself.
Yet fate is cruel, and this pair knew that best.
Often, Morgana found herself staring absently at the sky. As if one day he would simply ascend from the heavens and hold her, touch her like he used. Now that she resided up north, she felt colder and more lonely than ever. Perhaps he had forgotten her. Perhaps he had moved on. She stole herself against the sadness, accepting the fact that she may never see him again. Add him to the long list of people that had left her, betrayed her, forsaken her. It was all becoming too much to bear.
So needless to say, when she walked into her room one night to see his figure standing in harsh contrast against the moonlight filtering through her window, she almost couldn't believe it. Loki was turned away from her, one hand on his sceptre, the other clutching the windowsill. Morgana heart beat so fast she was sure to become light headed and faint.
"I thought I would never see you again..." she admitted, her voice shaky.
At the sound of her voice falling on his ears after all this time, Loki bowed his head reverently. Still facing away from her. If it had been a difficult choice to make facing her before, than this would be excruciating. Yet still, where else would he go, who else did he have to turn to after his escape? For he was just as alone as she.
"Loki..." now her voice was more pained, insecure, with a taint of disbelief.
Gathering his courage, the raven haired man in black leather and hints of green lifted his head again, bathing his pallid features in the moon's soft light before turning to face her. Gods she was beautiful, he had forgotten how much so. Though he had every contour of her face, every curve of her body memorized, it was still not the same as beholding her.
Slowly, Morgana began to step forwards to him. Her vision adjusting to the darkness still and her jade hues searching his features for any sign of emotion. Of course there were none, so instead she focused on his icy blue's, for that was where she found all the truth she needed. Loki was broken, distraught, not the same man who had come to her three years prior.
A gasp escaped her, and a single tear ran down his face as she realized why he would not respond. Threads held his lips fast from speaking.
"Gods," she cursed, "What have they done to you?"
Rushing to him now, she picked up a blade from her dresser, realizing the mortal weapon would not cut the thread. So she enchanted it, her eyes flashing gold before she carefully slipped it under one of the stitches and snapped the thread.
Her eyes fluttering from his face and to the threads, slowly but surely, she pulled every stitch loose until his mouth was free again but he did not speak yet. Intimately she touched his tender lips, "I was so worried that you wouldn't come back for me," she said, her eyes becoming hazy with tears, revealing her vulnerability and the extent to which she missed him.
"I will always come back for you Morgana," was the first thing he said since his speech had been stolen from him by his own family. Then he pushed his hands up the nape of her neck, lacing his fingers through her midnight hair and pulled her in to a gentle kiss.