One year.
I still find it hard to believe it has been that long. Time has a funny way of stretching and shrinking like that, and it never seems to let me in on the joke. During the time he was with me, it was particularly mischievous, almost as much as the man it was stealing away from me with every fleeting second. My king and I were constantly at battle with the racing sunset and sunrise here on Earth, careful to be sure he was not seen by anyone I knew. It would have been way too much to explain.
There were moments when time decided to slow, though: when he would gaze at me with fathomless, intense green eyes; when his hand would brush against my back as we kissed; each time he breathed his thoughts into my ear as I buried my face into his shoulder. However, no matter how slow they passed, they were never long enough. And that is time's best punch line, isn't it? We truly do not know what we have until there's no chance to get it back.
Those days have passed, thank God. Now my king and I live in the stars, among towering bronze and gold spires reaching into the clouds. Loki calls it Asgard. I call it an oasis. I suppose I should call it home now, since we will live out the rest of my days together here, in his kingdom, where I will be faithfully at his side as he reigns.
I suspect he will need me there especially today. He told me himself about what had happened to his mother, Frigga, less than a month ago, as he prepared for this date. She died with honor, defending her palace and her kingdom without concern for her own life. A guard had told Loki what happened, as he had been imprisoned at the time. We discussed the reasons for his imprisonment long before he took me here. Even after he told me what he had done to gain his throne, I still loved him. I guess I'm funny that way.
The memorial he held in her honor was truly beautiful. Though there were many who were less than pleased with their current ruler, all Asgardians had shared a adoration for Frigga in her life and were deeply saddened by her death. The musician's songs broke my heart in ways I never knew were possible. Artists from across Asgard and even a few from other realms all contributed to crafting the paper lanterns that lit up the sky at the end of the ceremony. As I looked at them, constellations of floating lights illuminating the faces of those gathered, I felt the intense mourning and loss the people around me shared. It was almost unbearable. I stayed though; I didn't want to miss a second
I wipe the last bit of eye shadow from my face. Outside the bathroom, in Loki's chambers, I can hear him enter. I open the door and see him standing like a statue in the middle of the carpet. I've changed into sleeping robes, but he is still clad in the clothes he wore for the ceremony.
"What kept you?" I ask carefully. His face is blank, which puts me off. The usual glint of regality in his eyes isn't there. It's been replaced by… I can't put my finger on it. I know I don't like it though. It's like he's distracted.
It's an eternity before he glances at me with an empty stare. "There were… Ah, I was not…" He sucks in a small breath. "I waited until the lanterns blew out."
He leaves it at that and walks past me to the bed, rather deliberately. As he sits in the edge, I notice him clenching his jaw. He fixes his gaze on his knees. "There were a few others who I assume are still outside. I expect they planned a vigil."
I nod, but I'm more concerned with how hunched he is. I'm so used to him standing tall and proud, like the king he was born to be. That man is not the one sitting in front of me. The one here is defeated. Lost.
I move to stand in front of him and lift his face to look at me. He is so tall that when he is seated, he can look straight ahead and still meet my eyes. I move my hands to his shoulders and rest my forehead against his so he has no choice but to keep eye contact. He could whisk me away with a flick of his wrist or tell me to leave him be, but he doesn't.
"You miss her," I say.
He sighs and closes his eyes. I move my hand to his face and stroke his cheekbone with my thumb. He then brings his own hand up and wraps it around mine, his long fingers dwarfing my palm. We stay like this until he stands and opens his eyes again. This time, they are swimming with tears.
He nods tightly, then opens his mouth to gasp, "Every day."
He envelops me in his arms and tucks his face into my neck. I do the same to him and try to give him comfort by rubbing his back. He sighs again, but this time his breath shudders against my skin. "I wasn't there," he says, fighting to keep his voice from cracking. His arms tighten against my back, and I can feel his chest heaving against mine.
Finally, a sob escapes him. The tears fall more readily now and soak into my robes, and he grips me ever tighter. I have seen men grieve before; I remember my father doing so after his mother passed away years ago. It seems out of place on Loki, and if I'm honest, it frightens me. I hold him against me, feeling that doing so is the only thing I can do to ease his heartache.
Before I know it, we have sunken to our knees still hugging tightly to each other. He shakes against me, overcome with the grief he has hidden for so long. I can't help but think about how painful it mush have been to bottle those feelings, thinking he had no one to go to. It breaks my heart.
Time decides to be mischievous again; for an eternity he leans against me, and for an eternity I hold him together as best as I can. His sobs have quieted, but he still breathes in small gasps.
"It must be a shock, seeing me like this," he says quietly; I'm not entirely sure, but I think I see a faint smile play on his lips before it disappears.
I hesitate, unsure of how to answer. "Yeah," I admit, nodding. "Can't say I ever expected… Well."
A laugh escapes him and he turns his face to look up at me. "I suppose I rarely allow myself to experience such catharsis." His smile fades. I look into his eyes now and the sadness is still there, but the distant aura is, thankfully, gone. I want to say something, anything, but none of my ideas seem right. I settle on what's been heavy on my mind since the start of the memorial. "Tell me about her."
Loki sits up straight at this. He almost looks confused. "What do you wish to know?" he says slowly.
"Everything," I say. "Why everyone adored her, why she was so selfless. What made her a good mother?"
My words give him pause. He considers my questions before answering. "I suppose I should start at the beginning, then."
He is hesitant at first, stumbling to find the right words. Soon though, his stories of his childhood with Frigga flow easily from him. I watch as his face lights up a little brighter with each tale, and eventually fall asleep to his voice in my ear.
When I wake up, I have to walk up a flight of stairs before finding him on the balcony, bracing his arms on the railing and facing the Asgardian sunrise. We each slide an arm around each other's waist and watch it together, letting the sun's light warm us.
"She did this with me sometimes," he says, "watched the sun rise. It's been habit for me to do so every now and then." He turns to me. "And now I have someone with whom to share it once again."
I smile and lean my head against his shoulder. "I would be honored, my king."