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Miekall now knows the truth of his birth. Will Loki heal, or will he continue to mourn for Meeka?

Sit back and find out!

Love always,

Avoline

Loki sat at the throne, watching as Miekall approached. The day had come for Miekall to swear his allegiance and take over as King of Asgard. He was of age now, and made his way not with an air of arrogance as Thor had done, but with an air of responsibility. No longer was he a boy or a simple warrior. He was now a man, and Loki could only hope he had done well enough to prepare him for the throne.

To his left, Loki could see Fandrall, Volstragg, and Hogun. All three had played a part in making Miekall one of Asgard's best warriors, despite his small stature. Loki bit back a smile as he remembered how Miekall had out maneuvered each one of them. The soon-to-be king had done what Loki couldn't: prove that brute strength was only half the warrior.

To his right stood Thor, Odin, and Sif. Odin, while distant, was still Miekall's grandfather, and stood in spite of his failing health. Loki feared the day that Odin would leave them and join Frigga in Valhalla. Odin was too stubborn for his own good, and would insist on joining the warriors in battle. Many worried for the old man, but none dare speak against him.

Miekall bowed before him, and Loki found his heart swelling with pride. His son had proven time and time again that somewhere, between not knowing what he was doing and vowing not to repeat mistakes made, Loki had done something right as a father. Miekall had shown himself to have a kind heart, a warrior's mind, and the soul of a true leader, the latter being something very few possessed. The older man couldn't help but wonder if that was a trait his son inherited from Meeka.

If only she were here...

Loki stood in the doorway of the main dining hall, watching his son and the others celebrate. His heart, though swollen with pride, ached with longing. Despite all the years that have went by, he missed Meeka just as badly as the day she died. His very soul felt as though the years alone had ripped it to ribbons. But no other woman could dull the pain of loosing his queen.

He turned and slowly walked away. He just needed a few moments to himself, to gather his thoughts and get control of his emotions. His chest ached as he thought of the expression on Miekall's face when he was told the truth. The boy was clearly torn, but had somehow found a form of peace that had been eluding the king. Loki was thankful that his son would not carry the burden of guilt within his heart.

Tears stung the backs of his eyes, and he battled to keep them at bay. He was helpless against his own guilt, and wondered how different his life would be if his son had never been born. Yet half of him knew he could never trade his only child for anything. His sole purpose became making sure Miekall would be a wise and beloved king. And he felt that he had achieved at least that much. His son would be a wise king.

He blinked as he entered his bed chamber. He wasn't entirely sure when he had meandered his way there, but he was glad of it. Everywhere his eyes landed were reminders of Meeka. A dress, set out by her hand maidens, still laid where it was set. Her favorite book, the one she had recommended to him, sat on the bedside table. Her presence surrounded him, and was still strong enough to bring him to his knees.

He sank to the bed, not trusting his legs to hold him any longer. His chest ached, almost as if he had been hit with Mjolnir. The years had not healed this wound, and he doubted they ever would. The pain had not dimmed in the slightest. He had simply learned to live with it. He had shoved it aside so that Miekall would never notice. And he had done so very well.

But now, it was consuming him.

"Brother," a deep voice called. Loki looked up to see Thor step into the room. "You still grieve for your queen."

"Would you not," the dark-haired man replied gently. "If it were your wife, would you so easily move on?" The blond sat next to Loki.

"You make a valid point," he commented. "Meeka would be impressed by your loyalty." A smile crossed Loki's face before he could stop it.

"She always wondered why I chose her over every woman within the nine realms," he mused. "This is why. I knew I would never be able to love another. Not after having felt how deeply she was capable of loving. She brought out the best in everyone. And was always looking for the brighter side of everything. She reminded me so much of Mother." The duo sat silent for a few moments. "Everyone I ever loved is gone, except for you and Miekall."

"You always did have the worst luck, brother," Thor added. "Yet you have stayed strong through all of it." A sad, weak laugh passed the Trickster's lips.

"It has not been easy," he answered. "I have often wondered why I keep trying only to fail. And I believe it is because every time I think about giving up, I hear Mother or Meeka encouraging me to keep trying. If it weren't for that, I would have given up long before now." Their eyes met. "I still feel them with me, and that alone gives me the strength to face another day."

"A good place to draw strength," the blond commented. "We should return, brother. They will notice our absence soon enough." The men rose, leaving the room in a somewhat somber move.

"Our absence is not the only one that has been noticed."