Remembrance


She was just how he remembered, dark eyes twinkling and dimpled cheeks dancing just out of sight. She had gained some weight, perhaps grown a bit older, but she was still the same. Still his storyteller.

He had followed her around for the better part of the morning, watching silently from the shadows as she went about her day. She bustled about, cleaning and cooking, humming and laughing, as she enjoyed the simplicity of her day. Never once sensing his presence as he basked in her light. Though luckily mortal walls couldn't keep him out, nor could simple Midgardian locks.

He waited in the shadows of the house, watching as the merry lady hunkered over her laptop and began to write. Her fingers flew over the keys, as a gentle expression rose to her lips. She had always been at her best when she was writing, and he was pleased to see that hadn't changed with time. The odd, somewhat chubby woman transformed when she created her stories, and he now observed it with a bittersweet lump in his throat.

She was a vision to behold. Not a goddess or a model of human perfection, by any means, but instead something deeper. Something unreserved and beautiful. She positively glowed as she crafted worlds from a blank piece of paper, and his old belief that she had a touch of the divine was renewed as he regarded the process. In moments of creation, Lyn Harkeran came alive. She could very well become the fairest of them all, if only for a moment.

He silently drew closer to her as the minutes turned to hours, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was writing so avidly. At first the he was lost to the description and setting, before a single name in the text caught his attention, making his eyes grow misty with unshed tears.

. . . Loki . . .

His name.

He read more cautiously now, his blue-green eyes racing over the written prose, while his heart grew heavier with unbidden emotion. The story was about him. It was a strange concoction of fiction and truth, but the sweetness behind the words hit him harder than any blow ever could.

She still loved him, still cared, even when he had left her. She still remembered him fondly, even with all he had done to her before they had gone their separate ways. She still spared thoughts for him, after all this time.

He continued to read, noting just how sad the story actually was. In it he was tender and comforting, and she feared losing him. . . How insightful. . . Though a particular line stuck out more than the rest.

"I didn't want to be alone. I love you so much . . . I just didn't know how I would continue without you. You've been such a huge part of my life, Loki. You've influenced and helped me so much, I don't know how I could ever let you go. I don't think I'll ever be able too."

The Trickster now shifted his gaze from the computer screen to the writer's face, catching sight of a single tear rolling down her cheek. Her eyes never left the document, as her fingers typed out the remainder, faster than lightning. All the while he waited.

When she finally stopped writing, the story concluded, her real tears came. Countless drops fell from her chocolate eyes, as she sniffled and smiled. She shook her head, muttering to herself about 'fangirl messes' before standing and walking away, leaving him alone with the heartbreaking story.

He read it again and again, memorizing her words like he once had, before he decided to act.

When he had left Lyn, several years prior, it had been on bad terms. They had fought about the future- of all things- and he had acted impulsively. He had said horrible things to the timid woman, making her cry. He had shouted and cursed her and had stormed out of her life in a flash of green and gold. . . . and he had missed her every day since.

Though he hadn't known it before, the quirky human girl had ingrained herself deep into his heart, mirroring what he had done for her. She was there with him, not as a lover as she had once hoped, but as something much stronger. She had taken the place of the thing he had believed he'd never have again. Making their bond special without the common restraints or niceties.

Lyn was family.

He had stayed away for years, too ashamed of his behavior to come back and fix it. . . Until now. Until he had faced the end, with death nipping rapidly at his heels as he fled with his heart racing and his hopes shattered.

In those moments when he had been so close to dying, Lyn's dimpled little smile had been one of the things to flash before his eyes. Her laughter and tender heart, her easy hugs and subtle beauty when she wrote. . . It had all come back to him, and he had been compelled to return. He had to see if she was still there. Still the same resilient mortal he remembered.

Now he lifted the cloaking spell he had cast upon himself, becoming visible in the dimly lit room. With steady, hushed strides he crept down the hallway in the direction she had gone. He stopped in front of her closed bedroom door, sighing almost inaudibly as he raised his hand to knock.

His knuckles rapped quietly against the surface, and he waited patiently as he heard her scramble inside. It was several seconds later that she opened the door, but it might have been an eternity for how anxious he felt. As Lyn came into his view, her familiar chocolate eyes meeting his, he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had been young lady when he'd left her, but now there was no denying that she was a woman.

Lyn stared at him, her hands clutching the doorframe until they grew pale from the effort. For a breath, he thought she was upset at his presence and he feared the worst. But before he could retreat, Lyn broke out into the sweetest smile he had ever seen. Her cheeks and chin were still damp from her earlier tears, but the joy that lined her face was undeniable.
Without a thought, the writer swung the door wide and launched herself forward. She embraced the Trickster fully, wrapping her arms around him as far as they would go. She remained silent for sometime before she finally spoke, surprising him.

"Welcome home, Loki," she whispered simply, making his heart ache.

Home. Such an inconsequential word, and yet so important.

Loki felt his chest constrict as his own happy tears came to join hers. "You waited for me? After all this time?" He wondered, as he returned her embrace.

"You never left me," she murmured, burying her face into his chest as she held him tighter.

Loki laughed softly, as they continued to hold one-another, marveling in the truth of her words. Though he had abandoned her for power and the Throne of Asgard, he had never truly left her. Nor would he ever again.

"I know I do not deserve your kindness, after all the pain I have inflicted upon you. . . But could you find it in your heart to forgive my cruelty? My harsh words and actions against you?"

"I already did, handsome," she said, squeezing his large hand lovingly. With just a few words she had put his unease to rest. "Now, no more apologies. Come over here and tell me of your journey and travels. We have to catch up and you owe me a story."

A startled laugh escaped Loki's mouth as he allowed her to lead him to the couch, though he sat beside her without prompting. "I haven't been back an hour and already you wish for a tale!" He looked at her in wonder, grinning despite himself. "You really haven't changed at all, Lyn."

"No. But you have," she countered gently.

"Yes," he agreed after a time. "Because I remembered who I was."

"And who are you, sweetheart?"

"A man with a family," he replied, bringing her hand up to his lips purposefully, before he began to regale her with his countless misadventures.


A/N: After the events of Infinity War, I found myself in a Loki mood. I wrote this purely for myself and for therapy, but I figured I'd share it here as well. It's nothing more than angst/fluff but it was what I needed to write.

Thanks for reading, it means a lot.