Loki's days in Asgard were, to say the least, dull.

After that first catastrophic dinner, Queen Frigga worked on compromises from both parties. Loki agreed to get a new wardrobe for the duration of his visit and Odin didn't insist on a haircut, to Loki's great relief. He could see Gwyn traveling all the way to Asgard just to scold Odin for ruining her hard work.

The next few days he spent at the tailors and blacksmiths, getting new clothes and new armor, and he was grateful for the distraction. The palace had already sent the designs, but Loki managed to convince the makers of a few changes, and favor leather wherever it was possible, keeping the heavy restrictive plate to a minimum. Loki knew Odin sent instructions to emulate Thor's armor, which was good for handling swords and shields, but not daggers. The blacksmith was more than happy to oblige to Loki's requests, and crafted a beautiful light armor out of golden plate, black leather and green linen. The design was protective but light and allowed freer movement than if he had been encased in metal like his brother.

The specifics from the palace also included a golden ceremonial helmet, with horns that protruded from the forehead and curled up high above his head. But that one was relegated to the darkest part of Loki's closet where he could forget he ever saw the thing. It was far too garish for his taste, and he would not be caught dead wearing it.

It didn't take long for Loki to realize how much he craved to be around Erik, to have his unwavering support and feel the warmth of him in his arms. The letters he got every week weren't enough, but they were better than nothing, he supposed, and they motivated him to keep busy, if only to pass the time faster and stay away from his father.

Loki began to spend his days sparring at the training pit, getting some mobility on his new armor. Or in the library, where he constantly complained about the lack of seidr material and the biased history. Or with his mother, either practising or working on their gardens. It took them a few weeks, but Loki and Frigga figured out a way to get a small creek running on Loki's balcony, giving him the ambient noise he needed to sleep properly at night.

Spending time with Thor was hard. Loki wasn't interested in raiding the local tavern on a daily basis, not with Thor's friends anyway. He wasn't about to forget all the pain they caused and he was horribly amazed of how indifferent they were to the damage they had inflicted, acting all friendly and chatty, as if nothing ever happened. Loki gave it a try after much begging from Thor, and proceeded to spend the night transfiguring the ale in Fandral's tankard to lemon water. His simple trick earned him a few laughs from Thor and Sif, but after that he decided to wait to drink with Thor until he was away from his brutish friends. Sif was agreeable enough company but there were times Thor only had eyes for her when she was around, and Loki would be the odd one out.

One particular evening, several weeks into his visit, Loki sat across from Thor at their usual tavern, staring down into his half-full tankard of Asgardian mead with a frown. The drink was bitter compared to the sweet brew typical of Alfheim, but Loki wasn't drinking for the taste. Thor, picking up on Loki's mood, tried to perk him up.

"Why don't you come with us to Vanaheim?" he asked Loki, knowing the answer but putting forth the effort regardless. "Get out of the castle for a while without worrying about your studies."

Loki peered up at Thor, his grip on the tankard's handle tightening. "You know how much of a bad idea that would be. Father has not extended an invitation to me, nor do I expect him to, and I will not ask for one." He saw Thor's hurt expression, so he removed some of the bite from his voice and continued. "Besides, as future King, this trip is more for you than I. My time will be well spent studying and keeping Mother company. Just wait until you see the brood of daughters the Vanir Queen has. You won't miss me."

"I will miss you! Who better than yourself to give me advice on princesses?" Thor winked. Loki rolled his eyes but gave him a small smile.

.-

Tadpole,

I still find myself thinking only of you when I wake, missing your reassuring touch when I suffer my father's indifference, craving your lips before I go to bed at night. Asgard, for all its beauty, feels empty and dull without you.

My brother is currently on a diplomatic trip to Vanaheim with my father, so the castle is so quiet and peaceful these days that it has allowed me to spend more time in our library for extra study and practice time. It is truly a shame how much is missing from our archives. Almost the whole of Alfar history is gone, and the scholars stopped getting books from Midgard centuries ago. Matters in the palace are just as tense as always when it comes to my father, so he has not listened when I advised him to continue to build the library's collection.

Regarding Thor, I wish that you could see how adamantly he still pushes the notion that Sigyn and I are together, or should be. If he only knew exactly how wrong, how blind he is - he certainly inherited Father's clueless intuition on matters in which he is convinced he is right. Thor is projecting his own infatuation with the warrior Sif onto my life and I will be glad to be away from it.

As the nights here grow cooler and the days shorter, it is a daily reminder that I am closer to seeing you again. For months now I have only been able to get through by knowing I will hear from you soon - but I must express my concern at the extended times between your replies lately. At times it makes me fear the worst, that either we have been found out or you grew weary of loving someone worlds away. Either way, nearly a month has passed since your last letter and nothing would make me happier than to see your neat and precise handwriting, even just a single word on a piece of parchment. Anything to let me know you're okay.

With love

Longshanks

.-

Loki was getting more anxious the longer Erik failed to reply. But going back to Alfheim was only a few days away, and somehow he managed to convince himself to wait it out. Part of him wished he could depart before his brother and father came back from Vanaheim, but Frigga had already been informed they would be coming back that evening and Loki was to have dinner with them, something he did not look forward to.

Loki left his chambers as late as he could, and walked the corridors slowly. He met a maid on the way, who had been sent to fetch him. He entered the sitting room of the Royal Chambers quietly, avoiding eye contact, though he knew Odin was glaring at him for the delay. Loki didn't even bother with an excuse and sat down, almost willing himself to blend with the chair's decoration. He doubted it would make much difference if he did.

"So? How was your trip to Vanaheim?" Frigga asked over the table.

Odin made a concise speech, detailing new trade treaties and dealing with the Niflheim dwarves. Apparently the dwarf King was much more open to negotiations with the Vanir. Loki wasn't surprised: the dwarves were stubborn and greedy, much like Odin. They would never agree on anything.

Loki's mind wandered off to his own conversations with King Frèyr, and how he would tackle that problem with Niflheim if it were up to him. Loki came up with a few suggestions, but he knew to keep quiet, since Odin would dismiss him as usual. Thor, instead, was being forcefully made part of the discussion, but Loki could see he struggled with things like diplomacy and basic tact.

Maybe that's what will become of me when Thor ascends to the throne. Advisor to the King. I'll do the talking and he'll do the punching. Better than being the second-best, forgotten Prince.

"Don't forget the part where you made Queen Frèyja parade all her daughters in front of me…" Thor said, mildly annoyed.

Odin scoffed. "It would be a great political alliance. You need to think like a King now, Thor."

"I don't think any of them is truly interested in a political alliance, father. Not even the Queen," Thor said.

Loki chuckled softly. He had met Queen Frèyja and he could affirm without a doubt, she wouldn't be.

"Besides, only the eldest one is not betrothed still," Thor added, taking a large swig of his wine.

"Finja has a suitor?" Loki asked without thinking. Thor looked at him, confused. "Queen Frèyja is King Frèyr's sister, Thor. I've seen her majesty and her daughters in Alfheim many times."

Thor nodded in realization. "Oh, yes. Is she the youngest one? She got betrothed just recently, to an Ulrik, or Beric - something. Of the noble houses." Thor gulped down the last of his goblet and motioned the maid to refill it. "You must know him, Loki. He mentioned studying in Alfheim."

"Erik?" Loki swallowed, trying to hide his shock. "Short one with blond hair?"

"That's the one!" Thor said. "Quite the fuss, but I wouldn't know why." He shrugged.

Loki lost all his appetite, but knew better than to say anything. He could feel Frigga's gaze on him, but he decidedly stared at his plate, pushing the food around.

This had to be a mistake. Thor couldn't be serious. Maybe it was one of Erik's brothers and Thor just mixed them up.

Is this why Erik hasn't been answering my letters? He's on Vanaheim?

Thor and Odin kept bickering about it, but all Loki could hear was a buzz in his ears. His heart was pounding and his head started to spin. Suddenly, the whole room felt hot, but Loki did his best to keep normal. The subtle touch of Frigga's hand on his made him realize that the ice spell he kept on himself stopped working in his despair. Loki shook his head and the spell cooled his clothes once again, making him feel slightly better. Though it wouldn't stop the lingering pain in his chest.

Once he was back in his room, knowing he couldn't reach Erik, Loki wrote to the next best person.

Dearest Sigyn.

I hope this letter finds you well.

I wish I could tell you more, but I am in a hurry.

My father and brother came back this evening from a diplomatic trip to Vanaheim, and Thor had the most outrageous news. Princess Finja is to be married, and her betrothed is Erik?

I would ask him directly, but he hasn't responded to my letters for weeks now.

I can't risk sending him a letter to Vanaheim, and my teleporting spells only work when I know the exact location or at least have something to build a tracking spell from.

Please, let me know anything as soon as you can.

Loki.

.-

Loki spent most of the night tossing and turning, and was surprised by an almost immediate return letter just the next day after he sent his own, the parchment envelope with Sigyn's seal appearing on his pillow in a flash of gold seidr. Evidently she had been practicing her teleportation magic. Her reply was brief, scrawled hastily in ink that hadn't even dried before she folded it up. Dots of the ink were splattered all over the paper. With shaking hands Loki opened it and sat on his bed.

Erik is all right. It's best that he tells you in person.

-S

It was a bright morning, but everything around him grew dark. He clutched the letter in his sweating hands and held it to his chest, trying to focus on the sound of the running water outside on his balcony to steady himself.

So it's true, then.

When his maid came to fetch him for breakfast, Loki had her send word that he was feeling ill. It wasn't far from the truth - in fact, his stomach felt like it was turned inside out - but his mother knew him better. Within minutes of dismissing his maid, Frigga knocked at his door and peeked her head inside. Loki waved her in and he saw she was carrying a bowl of porridge with berries and honey for him.

"I'm not hungry," he said, his back turned to her.

"Just take the bowl," she insisted, handing it to him before taking a seat next to him on the bed. "Stir it around. Give your hands something to do while you talk."

"What's to talk about? Erik is engaged to a woman he doesn't love and I'll never see him again once he marries." Loki found himself stirring the contents of the bowl and staring at the blackberries as they broke apart and melted in the hot mixture. The smell turned his stomach with its sickly sweetness. "It's not as if there is anything you or I could do about it."

"No," Frigga said softly, running her fingers through the long part of his hair in the back in soothing strokes. "But you don't have to suffer this alone, Loki. You haven't lost him yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I only mean that you can still make the best of what time you have left with him. Unfortunately diplomacy will always take precedence over the heart when it comes to royal families and nobility - no one knows that better than I - but that doesn't mean you can't still be with him while you have time."

Loki sighed, tears blurring his vision as he thought about running out of time with Erik. He had never given proper thought to their future together, whatever it could be, but he didn't think their future would be snatched from them before they had a chance to figure it out.

"I don't know what I was thinking," Loki mumbled. "I thought for once in my life something would work out. That I could be happy. And for what? Five years? That's nothing, a breath of time."

Frigga lowered her gaze to the floor, sadness creeping across her face. "Better five years of something real than a thousand of hoping something real will become of it." She looked back over at Loki, who was watching her carefully, and wiped a tear from his cheek. "Please eat, darling, things always feel worse on an empty stomach."

Loki took a bite of the sweet porridge to placate her and was surprised when his stomach growled as soon as he swallowed. Frigga smiled and stood up, giving him a kiss on the top of his head before departing.

.-

Loki was grateful that the following days he was busy getting all his things ready to go back to Alfheim. He avoided conversation with Thor and Frigga, and took his meals in his chambers. The time finally came for him to leave, and Loki took the walk down the bridge alone at dusk after his goodbyes. Heimdall's knowing eyes watched him until he departed through the Bifrost.

When Loki landed on Alfheim, Princess Sigyn was waiting for him at the landing site. She told him Erik was waiting at the palace before Loki could ask, and they rode back as fast as they could. As promised, Erik was in Loki's bedroom, wringing his hands, his face red and blotchy. Sigyn gave the pair of them privacy and closed the door behind her without a word.

Erik ran to Loki and tried to hold him, but Loki stepped back.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Erik took a deep breath. "Because I didn't know," he said. "Not until my father wrote to me, asking me to go home for the remaining of the season and dropped that bomb over dinner."

Loki closed his eyes, tears burning to get out. Erik was still explaining something about a confusing situation involving Princess Finja and a stables boy, and an offer made long ago to Erik's house to be a part of the Royal Family through marriage. Loki knew of such a pact, but they both always thought Erik's older brother, Stefan, would be the one to fulfill it.

"Loki, you have to believe me, I would've never led you on like this…" Erik said, wrapping his arms tightly around a very stiff Loki. "I couldn't exactly tell them my heart already has an owner, like Stefan did."

"I do believe you," Loki muttered, slowly leaning into Erik's embrace and holding the back of his neck. He buried his face in Erik's hair, taking in his sandalwood scent he had missed so much.

"Will you be leaving?"

Erik looked up and shook his head softly. "Not yet. I said I wanted to finish what I started. My mother wasn't happy, but they allowed me to remain here until the end of this course."

Loki stroked Erik's cheek. "10 years. It's not enough."

"It will never be enough, but it is what we have." Erik started playing with the strings of Loki's tunic. "Besides…" Erik gulped hard, mulling over what he wanted to say.

"What?"

"Loki, you know this is doomed. It has been doomed from the very start. No matter how much we want this to last forever, it can't."

Loki knew Erik's words were true. Just as his mother had said, diplomacy takes precedence, and it wasn't just Erik. Loki was a prince, and as prince he was expected to fulfill a role that didn't allow him to marry Erik, or any other man for that matter. Least of all on Asgard, where such unions were not only frowned upon, but still illegal under Odin's law.

"We can still make the best of what time we have left." Loki repeated his mother's words with a weak smile, and leaned his forehead against Erik's.

"I love you, my longshanks. Don't you dare doubt that, ever."

"I love you too, my tadpole."

Lifting his chin up, Loki kissed Erik slowly, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close. Before long, the kisses grew heated and hungry, leaving them breathless.

"Maybe I should - go," Erik breathed out.

"Not yet," Loki muttered against Erik's neck, nipping and kissing the soft flesh under his ear. Then traveled back to reclaim his mouth.

Erik gripped Loki's shirt, undoing the laces as Loki walked him backwards. Once his knees hit the bed, Loki took hold of his hips and sat him on top of it. Wordlessly, Erik slid his hand under Loki's shirt, making him break the kiss in surprise. Both were panting. Loki took Erik's hands, shaking in anticipation.

"I- really- really should leave," Erik repeated, biting his lip.

Loki shook his head, and removed his tunic slowly.

Erik never left Loki's room that night