AN-Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! The feedback is greatly appreciated! Please enjoy chapter 25! I can now tell you that I finished writing this fanfic and the end is near. Only a few more chapters remain.

Chapter 25: Tell Me More

Groaning, I rolled over and then abruptly gasped at the pain in my side. Cursing lowly under my breath, I tentatively held a hand over my wound. I had forgotten that I was still healing from a bullet entering the lefthand side of my ribcage. I had also temporarily forgotten about where I currently was: Asgard.

Cracking my eyelids open, I searched for Loki. The armchair I last saw him seated in was unoccupied. The room was empty, no sign of the trickster god, and I was alone. Testing my strength, I rose up into a sitting position. My side only hurt if I moved too sharply and too quickly. I figured that I could now move around freely if I kept my back rigid and walked slowly—basically I had to move like a little old lady. I was frail in this state.

Still, whatever miracle drugs Asgard's healers had dosed me with…they were making me feel better than I should. I wondered if they had some immune boosting drugs that sped up the healing process. I wouldn't be surprised if they did and had used some on me. Despite how terrible I felt physically, I knew I should have been feeling worse if I were in a hospital back on Earth. My curiosity filled me and I wanted to know more about Asgard's medical knowledge. How did they do it? What techniques did they use?

But first, I needed to find a bathroom.

Slipping carefully out of the plush recovery bed, I shuffled across the room to one of the four doors and opened it. I found that it was a supply closet, much larger than my bedroom back home, and it was stocked with shelves upon shelves of medical supplies. I shut the door, dowsing my curiosity for the moment until the timing was appropriate. I tried another door closer to my left and my eyes widened when it turned out to lead down a hall. Nervous and self conscious, I hastily shut it before someone saw me and approached the third door across the room—another hallway. Sighing, I opened the last door and was relieved to find what I was looking for: a washroom. My bladder felt like it was going to explode and my face felt grimy.

After using the bathroom and washing my hands and face with the cool water, I looked up into the mirror. What I saw was a shocker. My lips were pale and chapped, my hair was flat and slightly greasy, and my translucently white skin showed the dark circles under my eyes. Whatever small remnants of makeup still clung to my face ended up being smeared—making my under eyes apear even darker.

I looked dead.

Frowning, I tried in vain to wash away the messy eyeliner and mascara but it wouldn't budge with just water. I needed makeup remover for that and some shampoo for my hair would be greatly welcomed as well. My grotesque appearance clashed with the beautiful dress I adorned. I sighed and my reflection frowned back at me.

"Do you need anything, Laurel?" a silky voice suddenly murmured behind me.

I gasped and spun around quickly. Loki stood in the doorway holding a tray piled high with food in his clutches. "I left to get us some dinner and returned to find you gone from bed. I had no idea that you would be feeling quite well enough to walk on your own," he explained. How odd it was to see him carrying the tray. Shouldn't he have servants for that?

Swallowing and urging my heart to calm itself, I replied. "I think I am getting better. When can I go home? And what do you mean by dinner? It was nighttime when you saved me…but that was hours ago. Shouldn't it be morning or late afternoon depending on how long I slept?"

"Our nights and days vary here on Asgard. Come to the window, you'll see."

I followed him to one of the large, draped windows. Thick, intricately woven curtains covered every one in the room. No wonder why I had no idea what time of day it was. Any light, be it via the moon or sun, would be blocked from view completely.

Loki set the tray on a small table and pulled up two chairs by one of the veiled windowsills. As I shuffled over to one of the chairs, I tried to hide my limp. If everyone thought I was healed more that I actually was, perhaps I would be allowed to go home now. Despite how cool and exciting it must be to walk around in another realm—on an entirely different planet, I wanted to leave. Loki was a war criminal that killed hundreds of people. Plus, he ran out on me after I slept with him…and that still hurt me like an old bruise. Even though he had saved my life, I wasn't his biggest fan at the moment.

I winced as I sat down and he immediately noticed.

"Not quite as healed as you would like me to think, are you?" he mused. I narrowed my eyes at him and he just chuckled. In one swift motion, he waved his hand and magically cast aside the thick curtain over the window. My brows rose in alarm and my mouth parted in silent wonder.

The background of the atmosphere was deep blue with swirls of teal and purple. Countless stars shone everywhere as if someone blew glitter onto the canvas of the sky. Three moons took up residence above: one large enough to fill up the far West side, meanwhile the others were just like the single one orbiting Earth. Beneath the beautiful sky, golden pathways and cities lay below. An enormous ocean flowed from the edge of it all and seemed to drop down into the horizon like a waterfall.

"Oh…my…god," I whispered absently as I stared out the window. "It—it's absolutely beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," Loki murmured. I blinked, breaking out of the trance that the landscape caught me in.

"What?" I asked.

Loki tilted his head slightly, "I said—"

"I know what you said," I interrupted him carefully, speaking slowly and with level tone. Then my emotions caught the best of me and my voice began to rise. "Why did you say that? Why? You walked out on me the last time we saw each other face to face. You practically ran out my front door! After we slept together! You—you were the first and only guy I've done that with and you just ran away…then proceeded to murder hundreds of people!"

"Technically the Chitauri did most of the killing, Laurel," he spoke.

I scoffed and gave him a glare of disbelief as I stood up from the table, trying to ignore the pain in my side. "I want to go home. I don't want to be here with you any longer," I demanded.

Loki stood as well. His voice was tense as if he struggled to reign in his own anger. "I thought you had forgiven me for everything, Laurel. Actually, I know you did. The Allfather's terms of my release from prison was for someone I cared for to love and forgive me completely. You were that person. You broke the charm placed on my cell in the dungeons."

Pausing to grasp the oddity of what he had just said, I retorted, "Just because I forgive you, it doesn't mean I want to suddenly act like everything is well and good between us! It isn't! You hurt me and you hurt the people back on Earth! Why?!" My breathing was heavy and I didn't realize that I had started shouting towards the end until now. Raising my voice took a strain on my injured body and shouting made it hard to breathe. Coughing, I raised a hand to stop Loki as he advanced with a worried expression on his face.

He paused and studied me as I pulled my other hand away from my mouth. Small bloodclots dotted my palm and my eyes widened in fear.

Loki ignored my protests denying his aid and quickly stepped forward with a napkin. He grasped my small hand in his and pressed the cloth against my palm. "These clots are old—remaining blood that is being cleared from your respiratory system due to yesterday's trauma. Luckily, you stopped actively bleeding." He let go of my hand and I remained clutching the cloth.

He continued, "You might want to reconsider raising the tone of your voice at me right now, Laurel. Your left lung was punctured by a bullet, remember? I wouldn't want you to reinjure yourself and start coughing up fresh blood once more. Hemoptysis doesn't suit you well," he murmured. I scoffed at his condescending manner towards me. Loki now appeared calm and collected, but took a moment to absorb what I said earlier. Finally, he motioned for me to sit back down and spoke, "You want answers and that is understandable. Eat and I will tell you. You deserve to know everything, but you also need your strength. I will not answer your questions unless you sit down and eat something." His voice did not raise one bit, but it held a command of authority in it.

Huffing out a despondent breath, I sat down in the plush chair beneath me and glared at him. He raised an eyebrow and nodded at the plate of food between us.

I picked up a roll of bread and looked back at him, hoping he would start talking, but he just jutted his chin outwards and motioned for me to eat. I growled, frowned, and then took a bite of the roll. Once I did, its buttery and honeyed flavor coated my tongue and I fought back a moan of ecstasy as I hastily took another bite. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until now.

While I chewed, Loki spoke. "I attacked Midgard in retaliation towards Odin and Thor. Father always favored my brother over myself. Thor was always stronger physically and he was actually related to Odin by blood. I was just the poor, cast out, Frost Giant that Odin took in. My magic tricks and knowledge were not nearly enough to satisfy Odin's wishes for a successor in line for the throne."

I paused my chewing to give him an incredulous look. He fell silent as I stopped eating and then picked up his story when I took another bite of the breadroll. "Anyways, I never knew why Thor was looked more highly upon until a few years ago when I found out that I was actually of Jotun blood. I came to your house that night, remember?"

A blush crept over my features as I remembered how I had comforted him and then we proceeded to have sex. What a weird night, indeed.

"Yes, I can see that you do remember it well. So then, my plans for quite some time were to take the throne of Asgard and prove to Odin that I wasn't as weak as he thought. Weeks before I ever met you, I plotted to ruin Thor's coronation for the throne. Then I tricked him into attacking Jotunheim. Odin cast him out upon Midgard as punishment and I killed the Jotun leader, King Laufey, who—get this…was my biological father all along! I was so desperate for my adoptive father's approval that I unwittingly killed my actual father! I have terrible luck in the universe, you see."

My expression only grew ever more shocked and confused as he went onwards with his story. I had stopped chewing, trying to listen more carefully to what he was saying, but Loki stopped speaking when I stopped eating once again. He just looked at me, refusing to speak further unless I took a few more bites of food. I frowned at his headstrong decision to make sure that I got proper nutrition and began working on another roll of bread.

He smiled with satisfaction and picked up his story where he left off. "Thor ended up learning how to be less proud and selfish, much to my dismay, and returned to Asgard to defeat me. We battled on the bridge to the Bifrost just as I was unknowingly attempting to destroy my home planet. Thor shattered the rainbow bridge in order to save Jotunheim, I was injured, and then I fell through the portal—this part you know well. I ended up meeting you soon after. So then, my anger and despair at being the under appreciated child developed into rage and hatred. I wanted the throne so desperately that I spent the next four years plotting with the Chitauri. They promised me an army if I did what they said. This is why I only showed up to visit you briefly and sparsely throughout the years. They kept me busy."

By this point in his story, I had consumed three rolls of bread and a handful of various berries. I stopped to ask him a question, "Why attack Earth, though? We never did anything to you."

He glanced down at the bowl of strawberries, raised his eyebrows, and silently nodded. Catching on to what he wanted, I complained, "Oh come on! You can't be this serious?"

Loki cracked a smile but still refused to speak. His lips were sealed. I cursed and then shoved a strawberry into my mouth. "There? Happy?" I mumbled around a mouthfull of fruit.

He chuckled and finally answered my question, "An ant has no quarrel with a boot. Even if the people of Midgard had caused me no harm, it did not matter if to me. A goal was in my mind and I needed to achieve it no matter who I had to step on along the way—but I never truly wanted Midgard. I was not entirely interested in ruling your home planet. I simply wanted everyone else to think so because of Thor. He had fallen in love with a mortal at that time. I figured that if the Chitauri could use their army to win Midgard for me, then I could trade rule over it for Asgard's throne…since Thor cared so much for it. A throne for a throne. It seemed like a fair trade to me. Once I had what I wanted, then I would give the Chitauri the Tesseract—their planet's power source, in return for their hard work. I never intended for hundreds of mortals to die in the process. It was never my goal, Laurel, but it was an outcome I knew might come to pass."

Swallowing another bite of strawberry, I asked another question. "Did it truly not bother you—all the harm you caused? Did you feel any guilt about it? At all?"

"I did not."

I whistled lowly under my breath and shook my head. "Unbelievable!"

"Let me rephrase that…I did not at that time. During the darkest period of my life these past few years, I had no understanding of empathy. My anger had completely taken over and I had lost the ability to place myself in another's shoes to imagine what they felt. I did not care about anyone but myself. Now, I am coming to realize many things in life. I feel things differently—I see things from angles and points of view beside just my own. I am beginning to feel the weight of my actions and, quite frankly, it terrifies me."

"What changed your mind?" I asked.

He paused, smiled carefully, and replied. "You did, Laurel."

I blinked in surprise. "I didn't do anything," I admitted.

"You believed in me all those years on Midgard. You saw the good in me and didn't see me as any less than before once you saw that I was a Jotun. You even forgave me for everything! All the trouble I caused you—and everyone, you forgave me for it."

I scoffed. I also thought I was going to die, surely. So of course I decided to forgive him. Holding a grudge seems silly when you believe you wont live to see tomorrow. But do I still forgive Loki now that I was alive and well?

Yes, I do.

"Then why did you leave me?" I asked. "Why did you say those hurtful things as you ran out my front door that morning—the morning after…well, you know…"

"The morning after we had sex?" Loki asked blatantly and openly. His expression held not a single trace of embarressment or shame. Nothing fazed him. I, on the other hand, fought to contain the blush that swept over my cheeks like wildfire. I nodded and he sighed, "I left because you had grown to mean a great deal to me and once you informed me of how short your life expectancy was, I began to panic."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. I was unsure of what exactly he meant. "I don't understand," I grumbled out.

"I am immortal, Laurel. I will continue to live on for eternity. You will be dead within a few decades. How am I supposed to handle that?" he asked me, frustration clearly evident on his face.

I paused, trying to think of an answer. "I—I don't know. I suppose you just do?" I still had no idea what I meant to him. Was I a friend? A friend with benefits? I looked down at my hands folded in my lap and began to fidget. But what about the foggy memory in the back of my mind? Loki had said that he loved me—unless I dreamt that all up. On one hand, it's very possible that my mind was playing tricks on me due to the blood loss. On the other hand, perhaps Loki only voiced those words because he thought I was dying and I appeared unconscious. What if he never intended for me to know? What if he didn't even know I heard those words? Did he still mean them? I decided to act like it never happened either way. It had never happened.

"Laurel," Loki murmured. "I care about you, truly, I do. I just do not know what the future has in store for everyone involved. I screwed things up pretty badly…but I want to do things a bit differently now. I still want the same things as before, but I need to find a different way to achieve them. A throne will be mine."

Assessing his words and body language, I couldn't discern if he was lying to me or not. He was a trickster and a liar. "How do I know if you are telling me the truth?" I asked.

Loki pointed once more at the tray of food between us and kept his mout shut. His lips were locked and sealed like a safe.

"I am not eating any more food, Loki! I'll explode! Just tell me the damn truth," I cried out as I slammed my hand onto the table in an act of frustration.

He sighed, "I suppose you'll just have to start trusting me. I'm going to have to earn everyone's trust now." My eyes were downcast as I pondered his words. Was Loki just admitting to me that he was going to change? Even more…was he admitting that he had already started to change? Could I believe it?

Loki brought both his arms up from under the table and gently placed his hands on top of mine—holding them. My eyes flitted upwards to meet his and I froze, battling my instinct telling me to pull away from him. I wanted to take my hands out from under his, to yell at him, and demand that someone take me home this instant. Yet, the other half of me tingled and burned with an electric attraction to the way his cool, pale skin felt against mine. His emerald irises captured mine and held me still. Seeing him like this made me also want to stay with Loki and give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I do not know what the future holds for me since my unfortunate mishaps, but I do know that I want to do somewhat better," he murmured.

I nodded my head slowly as I realized that someone had to be the first one to forgive Loki and give him a second chance. I had already been the first to forgive him. Maybe now it was my turn to give him another chance, because if nobody wanted to be the first to step forward and voluntarily show him kindness, who would? Like a cluster of baby birds preparing to leave the nest, someone had to be the first to dare taking a leap of faith off a ledge. I just hoped that my wings wouldn't let me down.

I hoped that Loki wouldn't let me fall.

"Okay," I breathed. "I've already forgiven you for the past—although it'll be hard to forget what you've done, I'll place my trust in you. You want to change? You need to prove it somehow to everyone, not just me, and reinvent the way people see you."

"I am trying, Laurel. Though I will not promise to be more like Thor, he is an oaf and a bafoon, I will try to be a bit less destructive."

I inhaled deeply through my nose and let it out slowly. I guess this was a start. At least Loki would try not to be a crazy, murderous psychopath.

My next question burned in my mind, aching to get out. "After the attack on New York, I couldn't understand why you spared me—why you showed me some degree of kindness while everyone else got your wrath. Why me? Agent Romanoff from S.H.I.E.L.D. showed me the surveillence of you shouting at her. She's a beautiful woman—far prettier than me, I admit," I paused as I heard Loki scoff under his breath. I continued, "So I know that it wasn't my looks that spared me…why did I matter at all to you?"

"Laurel, I already told you, I care—" he started to say.

I interrupted him, "You care about me. You said that earlier. What exactly does that entail, anyways. Why do you care about me? You had plenty of chances to kill me before you got to know me throughout the years—"

This time he interrupted me, "I do not enjoy killing people." I raised my eyebrows in objection. Somehow, I doubted that. He sighed, "You're thinking of New York. It is not the killing that I like. It is the chaos that comes with it. The aftermath of death and destruction. I like the power that only fear can give me."

I swallowed, making sense of his blunt admission. The guy liked power and chaos. He was The God of Lies and Mischief, fair enough. But employing an alien race to cause death and destruction in New York seemed like a pretty dumb way to get what he wanted.

"Why let it go that far, though?" I asked. "After I stitched up that wound in your side when you first appeared here on Earth, why didn't you just leave me forever and go off on your merry way? Why did you keep coming back to develop these 'feelings' you say you have for me?"

"Because you are my queen!"

AN-Oooooh. Loki finally spit out the truth! How will Laurel take this admission?