Elsa and Loki were still wrapped in each other's embrace some time later, nothing existing for either of them except the other. No words were spoken, but the silence was not heavy and burdened like so many that had come before it. Yes, there were feelings left unvoiced, but they did not need to be expressed in words. For the moment, at least, it was enough that Elsa's head was against Loki's chest, her arms locked around his waist. On his part, all that needed expressing was communicated in the protective way his arm circled her shoulders and the occasional brush of his lips against the crest of her head.

They both lost track of time as they stood there together, floating like feathers on a sea of contentedness. It was something neither of them had felt in a very long time, and in that moment they were both happy to simply be.

They would likely never know just how similar their trains of thought were in that moment. Elsa was remembering her time at Arendelle; the isolation she had felt even at her coronation when the gates had been opened and hoards of people flooded into the city. For her, even then some part of her had been shut away in that room, surrounded by looming ice crystals of her own making. For years all she had recognised within herself was the potential for destruction, and all she knew was the exhausting back-and-forth between all-consuming terror and detached, barren emptiness.

Not for a moment had she considered there might be something within her to warrant anyone caring for her in a romantic capacity. The marriage offers she received on that day had been, she knew, of a practical nature, nothing more.

I should accept one of them, she remembered thinking. It is what a true queen would do.

Yet something had stopped her. An instinct, perhaps. Nevertheless, she had been exiled, and even the smallest, most fragile glimmer of hope she had harboured of ever being happy had been dashed. The only thing that had sustained her in the time since was the knowledge that back in Arendelle, Anna had found love. Elsa had accepted - with more resigned sorrow than bitterness - that such a fate was not for her.

But then Loki had arrived. At first she had mistrusted him, to be sure. Yet from the start she had felt something, and now, pressed up against him, breathing in his scent and recalling the feeling of his lips against hers, she could not remember ever feeling so secure. Some part of her still wanted to conceal her feelings, to choose not to feel them in the fist place, because to feel meant to open herself up to the bad as well as the good, and the bad terrified Elsa.

She squeezed her eyes shut against her doubts; Loki was here, and he was firm and warm, and that was all that mattered. As if to anchor herself solely to these comforting thoughts, she tightened her arms a little around Loki's waist. He manoeuvred her in his arms so that she was facing into him and, sensing his gaze on her, Elsa tilted her head up to look at him.

Sure enough, he was staring at her, his eyes intense and unreadable, an expression she was quickly beginning to associate with Loki. Then, without warning, he dipped his head and kissed her.

Another thing he seems to be particularly good at, Elsa thought. Unpredictable displays of affection.

She didn't mind, though, and after a split second of surprise she sighed and gave in to the kiss. She reached up to cup Loki's neck in her hand and leaned into him, taking solace in the way their bodies seemed to meld together. Loki's fingers trailed down her back until his hands settled on her waist, leaving rivulets of warmth in their wake. Elsa could almost feel her worries fragmenting and dissipating, like snowflakes in the wind, and when they broke apart she drank in the sight of him.

His head was still lowered, his eyes still closed. A lock of ebony hair fell across his forehead and his lips were parted slightly, his breath misting in the space between them. Elsa marvelled at how familiar she had become with the contours of his face in just a few days. Of course, she had known him before, but hardly for a long time and they had both been teenagers; Loki had matured a great deal since then.

It occurred to Elsa then the possibility that their time together would be transient. However it had happened and for whatever reason, they had been kept apart before. Who was to say the same thing wouldn't happen again? Elsa wasn't sure she could bear any more loss. She had lost her sister, her home, her independence, her memories... She had managed to reclaim the latter, but at what cost? She had found Loki again despite the odds, but what would happen to them now? Surely whoever had gone to such lengths to separate them once would not hesitate to do the same - or worse - again.

It was a terrible thought, and when Loki opened his eyes, the shock of green was enough to make Elsa's chest tighten. She kissed him again, more forcefully, trying to drive away the dark thoughts that hounded her.

I won't lose him again, she insisted. But his touch was so gentle, so ardent, and the notion that she might be forced to erase all recollection of such contact was so heart-rending that her eyes welled up and a single burning tear spilled down her cheek.

Loki pulled back, concern etched in the lines of his face. The thumb that rested on her cheek brushed the tear away with painstaking care.

"What's wrong?" he murmured. "Have I upset you?"

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, frustrated that she had let her emotions get away from her. She shook her head. "No, not you, just..." She trailed off, voice thick with barely restrained tears. Loki waited, eyes imploring but perhaps sensing that it was better not to push her. She bit her lip and took a deep breath, steeling herself to look at him without forgetting herself. "What if we get separated again?"

Loki's pressed his mouth into a firm line, and a line appeared between his eyes as he drew his brows together. "I won't let that happen," he insisted.

Elsa smiled sadly. "I'm sure neither of us wanted it to happen the first time, yet evidently we were powerless to stop it."

Loki shook his head. "It'll be different this time. Now we know the stakes and we know that... someone is trying to keep us apart. We'll be careful."

When she averted her eyes, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look at him. He was exceedingly gentle, but Elsa was tractable anyway, secretly wanting the comfort that the sight of him could provide. Their gazes locked once more, hers icy blue with a dewy sheen, his forest green and brimming with tenderness and determination.

"I promise," he said, and Elsa knew that he meant it. He gathered her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin, and Elsa sighed into his chest, the steady sound of his heart against her ear and the feeling of his fingers buried in her hair enough to assuage her worries.

For now, at least.

For all his apparent self-assuredness, Elsa never would have guessed just how tumultuous Loki's own thoughts were. Just as she was plagued by worries, Loki's own doubts were lurking like shadows in the recesses of his mind.

For the most part, he was wondering how he could possibly deserve to have Elsa there beside him, holding onto him like he was the most important thing in the world. He remembered the first time they met now, the wall in his mind having come crashing down after he kissed Elsa. He remembered how different he had been back then, before he had let the anger and bitterness and jealousy consume him; before he had found out who he really was. He could almost understand how that earlier version of himself might have won Elsa's affection... but now? After everything he had done since then? And what a part of him still longed to do?

Of course, he reminded himself, Elsa didn't know about any of that. Somehow he had managed to skirt around the topic of his more recent exploits, and even now could not bring himself to raise the subject.

Would she still feel this way if she knew? he wondered.

At this moment in time, he knew where he stood, and where Elsa's affections lay. This thing, this... romance that had grown between them was safe, sheltered like a songbird cupped between palms, and Loki was not brave enough to risk startling it into flight.

A hopeful part of him insisted she would understand, that she was too kind-hearted to be fickle. However over the years this aspect of his personality had become dwarfed by a darker side, and the latter part won out. It scoffed at such fanciful thinking.

Don't be ridiculous, it sneered. She'd turn her back on you in an instant. You are a scourge, a blight on her innocence.

He gritted his teeth, pondered that for a moment. Perhaps it was true; maybe he should leave her. The gods knew she deserved better than the likes of him. But then her arms squeezed his middle, cautious but trusting. It was an almost imperceptible change of pressure, but Loki felt it down to his core. His doubts melted away and he squeezed her back, manoeuvring so that she shifted in his arms, turned to face him.

Her eyes had been closed, but she opened them now and he lost himself in their brilliance. They shone like stars with the silver light of the moon reflected in them. Gods, she's beautiful, he thought and, unable to help himself, he kissed her.

Her mouth was soft and yielding and she sighed as he pressed his lips to hers, as though she had been waiting for the contact. They fit together like puzzle pieces, her arms reaching upwards, his sliding downwards, fingers alive with frissons of electricity. Elsa's fingers gripped the back of his neck and the pressure, both tender and insistent, left him breathless and wanting more, more, more, so much so that when they broke apart he just stood still, eyes closed, trying to regulate his breathing and his racing heart.

After a few moments he opened his eyes and was submerged once more in the overwhelming sight of her. He could hardly bear being so close to her and not being able to feel her breath ghost over his lips. Before he could close the unbearable gap between them, however, Elsa raised herself on her toes and captured his mouth with hers. The fervency with which she kissed him was startling and though Loki appreciated it, he couldn't help but think something was wrong and so he did not return the kiss with equal passion, but went softly, reaching up to cup her face in his hand.

As his thumb brushed over her cheekbone, he was shocked again by the hot tear that rolled over his thumb. He pulled back, concerned.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately. "Have I upset you?"

His chest seized in trepidation. Was she having second thoughts? Did she regret opening herself up to him? Relief surged through him so suddenly when she shook her head that he half feared his knees would give out.

Gods, he thought absently. How have I become so dependent on her so quickly? She has utterly bewitched me.

"No, not you, just..." she lapsed back into silence and Loki waited patiently, the abatement of his rather selfish worries now tempered with worry for Elsa once more. "What if we get separated again?" she asked, voice small and scared.

Several things flooded through Loki at once. Amazement, as he was again reminded that she was as dependent on him as he was on her; anger, because he knew who had separated them but not why - not that the why mattered, for there could be no justifiable reason to have deprived Loki of all these feelings for so many years - and he hated the man for it; and, strangely, an underlying sense of certainty. He was determined that he and Elsa should be together, felt that it simply had to be so.

As such, when he replied, "I won't let that happen," he truly meant it.

"I'm sure neither of us wanted it to happen the first time, yet evidently we were powerless to stop it." Elsa's small smile pained him, but her words did not shake him.

His frown deepened and he shook his head; he couldn't afford to give in to doubt. "It'll be different this time. Now we know the stakes and we know that... someone is trying to keep us apart. We'll be careful."

He had almost said 'Odin', but had decided against it at the last second. That was a serious matter that would take some time to explain and Loki did not want to deepen Elsa's distress just now. It would also mean putting some distance between the two of them, and the thought was just shy of offensive to Loki at this time.

Elsa looked away, but he pulled her face back towards his. He needed her to see the raw truth in his eyes when he spoke the next two words.

"I promise," Loki said, and he knew she believed him.

That's enough words for now, Loki decided. He drew Elsa into his chest and held her there, inhaling the scent of her hair and vowing a second time - this time silently - that as long as there was life in his body, he would find a way for them to be together. The thought was potent enough that it eclipsed all his previous apprehensions.

For now, at least.

There are no words that can accurately express how sorry I am for my absence. Several things have prevented me from dedicating sufficient time to writing recently, first and foremost a horrendously busy school year that has taken precedent over, well... everything. Consequently I've had very little time to spare for writing and anything I did write I was unhappy with. But, hark, the summer holidays are almost upon us and though my teachers are still loading me up with work (f***ing fascists), the updates will become much more frequent now.

I want to say how thankful I am to everyone who has stuck with this story and continued reading and reviewing. I wouldn't have been anywhere near as motivated to pick up this story again without all your enthusiasm and encouragement. A special thank you goes out to Skywroe whose kind messages made me determined to get back to writing ASAP. I wish I could have got back to it sooner, but hopefully you can all forgive me.

Anyway enough of that, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! My musical inspiration this time around was "As Long As You're Mine" from Wicked. It's literally so perfect for this chapter! I can't explain, just go listen to it if you haven't already - you'll understand.