It sounds just like a fairytale, doesn't it? How I met my Prince Charming, how we met, how we fought, how we fell in love?

But life isn't a fairytale, and neither is this. There are no Happy Ever Afters, at least in my experience. Just big and little moments of pure happiness that become the most beautiful memories. And those moments with Loki, I wouldn't have wanted to miss them for anything in this world or any of the other realms.

At first, we were so happy. When Loki commits to something, he gives it his all and more. He was the most charming, dashing, passionate person I had ever met; everything he did was a grand gesture meant to sweep me off my feet, and more often than not he succeeded. I sometimes didn't know up from down, he'd have my head spinning, and I would barely get a chance to breathe, both in the bedroom and in all the other parts of our life that we shared together.

But the collar began to chafe more and more. I could not blame him, putting that horrid thing back on every morning was one of the hardest things I'd ever see him do.

Loki missed his freedom, and I was starting to get afraid he missed his old life as well. A life where he'd be partying one night in Milan only to be having brunch in Hong Kong the next day. A life where he owned mansions, yachts and a private jet. Where money was never an issue, and where he mingled with the rich and the famous.

The Council of Venice had confiscated Beaumont's assets and froze his funds when I defeated him, and did the same later again with Lucas Lefay, but I knew there had been other aliases. Loki never went into detail about those because it didn't matter anyway, he said. As long as his every move was tracked he could not risk accessing any part of his old life. And he said he was happy sharing mine. But it was hard to believe my simple little home was truly enough for him.

"I need to go back to Temple Hall tomorrow morning."

Loki was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He had his arm loosely wrapped around me, his finger idly drawing little circles on my shoulder.

"I'll come with you," I said immediately.

"You can't," Loki frowned.

It wasn't the first time he had been called back in recently. His mood would be dark when he returned in the evening, and he'd brood, or sometimes even snap at me and start a fight.

"I don't like what is happening at all," I tenderly stroked a finger along those beautiful cheekbones of his, trying to get him to look at me, but he avoided my gaze. "I wish you'd at least tell me what they are doing to you," I said, not for the first time.

'Further studies of an alien entity' it was officially called.

"And as I have told you before, I won't," Loki's jaw set stubbornly. "It is humiliating for me, and you'll only get angry and make things worse."

I sat up. "I can't help you if you won't let me."

"You can't help me at all," Loki snapped, sitting up too.

"I'll threaten to quit my job if they don't stop this," I said stubbornly.

"You've already played that card, my dear. You can't keep playing the same card over and over or they'll call your bluff! And then what? You are going to work for the Illuminati? Because you'd fit in so well there? The Phoenicians perhaps? And what would happen to me then? I'll be locked away and they'll never let you see me again!"

Loki rubbed his forehead, tired of having the same argument yet again.

"I can take the pain," he said softly, "don't worry about me, my love. I learned to bear physical pain with a smile a long time ago."

This was new. It was the first time he admitted what they were doing to him caused him pain.

"I'm going in with you and putting a stop to this!" I felt the anger well up inside me, burning like a raging fire.

"No, you won't!" Loki raised his voice, his own anger and frustration boiling over. "This is my fight, and you won't give up everything you've built up for me! I won't have it!"

He closed his eyes for a second, visibly trying to regain control over his temper.

"I can take it," he said again. "It won't be the first time, and it probably won't be the last. Here, look. I don't show this to anyone, darling, but I'll show you if it will make you feel better."

Loki turned his back towards me and pulled the T-shirt he'd been wearing over his head. His hair tumbled down his neck and shoulders, and he impatiently brushed it to one side. For a moment he shimmered, and then scars began to appear on skin that had seemed unblemished before. They were old scars, not recently made. Long, thin and almost faded, but still visible.

I gently stroked his back, feeling the muscles ripple under his skin, feeling the raised bumps of his scars. I swallowed and cleared my throat, not wanting him to hear the pity I felt for him in my voice.

"What happened to you?" I cursed on the inside as my voice trembled despite my best efforts. "Who did this?"

"As I said before, my father did not like me much." Loki's voice was quiet and emotionless. "His belt taught me from a very young age how to ignore pain."

Loki turned around. "I don't want your pity," he said, taking my hand, "I just want you to see you don't have to worry about me. I can take the pain."

There were scars on his chest as well, different ones. I reached out before I could stop myself, but Loki took my other hand as well.

"I make enemies far easier than friends," he shrugged, "Don't worry about them, darling. Just see them as proof that I can bear whatever life throws at me. It's how I see them."

And yet he had hidden them from me the whole time.

"Why didn't I see these before? Back when your guards…"

"Because I didn't want you to." Loki interrupted. His eyes were compassionate as if he was feeling sorry for me, for the pain I was feeling on his behalf. "I couldn't hide my injuries, I knew your blood magic would detect those. But I could hide these."

He smiled, but his eyes were sad.

"I can take whatever they throw my way. I just wish I had the power to stop it, to take control of my life back. If I still had my full powers…" he frowned darkly, "if I was still my old self they'd never dare to treat me this way."

Loki lay back down, pulling me along into his arms. We both lay there a long time, both of us quiet. I didn't sleep much that night, and from the moonlight reflecting in his eyes as he stared unseeing at the ceiling, neither did Loki.

Loki tried. I know he did, he really did. But his moods changed like the wind. One moment he was sweet and charming, and he'd be dark and brooding the next. The job wasn't helping either. A lot of the work was simple, boring, not the challenge Loki needed, the challenge he craved.

The more frustrated he became, the more we fought.

"Come with me," Loki pleaded. "Let's just go, let's run. We'll take Jessie, we'll take the cats. We'll start a new life, I can hide us, I can make it so they'll never find us!"

"I can't and you know it. Jessie is about to start college, she deserves a normal life, not to be on the run for the rest of her life.

And I have responsibilities, I wasn't given these powers just to hide away forever. This power I have, I have to use it, I have to use it to make the world better."

"Than use it, and rule the world with me! With your power and my skills, we could make the world ours! It would be glorious!"

I rolled my eyes at him. As much as I cared for him, that was a childish fantasy. This wasn't the first time we had this argument and he knew what the answer was going to be:

"I don't want to rule the world, keeping this little household together is work enough as it is!"

Loki bristled with anger, his tongue sharp and his voice dripping with spite:

"Did you truly think this would be enough for me? This cute little life, in this cute little cottage, with my cute little girlfriend, her cute little daughter and her cute little cats?"

He knew exactly how to push my buttons, how to use my own insecurities against me.

Loki could read me like an open book. Not so long ago, we had the sweetest conversation about that.

"Come on Loki, you can read people like they are an open book. I can't exactly be that big of a big mystery to you." I had said.

Loki had run a hand through his hair and then rolled his eyes at me.

"Yes, I can read you like an open book! Except, in your book, the chapters are all out of order, there are no paragraphs, every sentence is in a different language and some pages are just drawings of stick figures! I can read you, but I don't understand you! At all!"

"I think I'm just going to take that as a compliment," I had said with a grin.

Loki had grinned back at me. "You should. I've never met anyone that carried her heart on her sleeve, said everything that came up in her head and yet remained such a mystery to me at the same time."

And he had scooped me up, tossed me over his shoulder and carried me off to the bedroom.

But now it wasn't so charming anymore. I could feel the blood drain from my face, if he had slapped me it wouldn't have hurt more.

"Did you truly think this could ever be enough? That you could ever be enough?" Loki yelled, the vein on his forehead standing out, his face an ugly angry red.

"I am a god, a prince amongst gods! And your dull, boring, holier-than-thou uninspired little life could never be enough!"

I knew, deep down inside I knew, that he was only lashing out at me in his frustration with the rest of his life, that he was hurting me because he was hurting too. But it was the third time that week, and I was so tired. So tired of having the same argument. So tired of being unable to help him, of being so helpless myself. Tired of yelling back. Tired of trying to diffuse the situation and getting him to calm down.

"Then go," I heard myself say. "If this is too hard, then go. Leave. But I can't be having this fight with you anymore."

Loki left the room without saying another word, slamming the door behind him with such force the windows rattled. A little while later I could hear his footsteps as he ran down the stairs, and a bit later again, the front door slammed shut.

I threw myself on the bed and cried. He'd be back later, all apologies and tears, telling me how much he cared for me, how much I meant to him, and I would take him in my arms and kiss away the tears and we'd be all right. At least until the next fight.

But Loki did not come back that time.

There was a note in the hallway:

My darling Sorcha,

Please don't think less of me for leaving you this way.

This path you walk on, I can not walk it with you. I thought I was strong enough, but there is too much darkness inside me. Every time we fight, I see the light fade a little bit in your eyes and it is killing me.

Before I thought that I would be a fool to walk away when there is finally something good in my life, now I think it would be foolish to stay.

Thank you, for believing in me, believing that there might still be good inside me. Thank you for making me believe I might be worthy of your love, of your kindness, at least for a little while.

I will always cherish the time we had together, but I think it will be better if I leave now, while this can all still be a wonderful memory we'll look back upon with a smile one day.

Before I'll do something stupid and ruin it all. Before I'll make a mistake and we'll be left standing in the rubble with nothing but the broken pieces of our hearts in our hands.

I never loved anyone the way I loved you, and I don't think I ever will again.

Forever yours,

Loki

I cried. Of course, I cried. And I gave him as long as I possibly could until my phone was blowing up with missed calls. And I put my dress uniform on and brushed my hair, and washed my face. And then I walked into Temple Hall, collar and bracelet in hand, my head held high.

The worst thing was that they didn't even yell or got angry at me. They apologised. Said that they should never have let it get this far, that they should have never let him leave Temple Hall. That they should have seen the signs when he started spending so much time with me.

They pitied me. The poor lonely woman who had let herself be seduced by the Trickster god. I didn't say much to abuse them of that notion. They would not have believed me anyway.

I was stripped of a few of my ranks, but I didn't really care. Their ranks and medals meant nothing to me. Not anymore.

Richard, to his credit, never said "I told you so," but took me home instead and just sat with me as I cried until Jessie came home. Jessie didn't say much, but I knew she would miss him too.

Cedric dropped by a few days later, a guitar on his back. It had been meant as a gift for Loki, to replace the one Loki had broken in his apartment. Cedric thought he would leave it with me for now.

He hadn't heard from Loki either: "If I had, I'd tell you, love," Cedric squeezed my hand.

"He might be my friend, but right now he's a bloody fool. He'll come back, he's smart enough to realise he's made a mistake soon enough."

I put the guitar in the guest room with all of Loki's other belongings. He hadn't taken anything with him, and I hoped against hope that that was a sign he might still come back.

The days were so quiet without Loki, without his music, and his voice, and the sound of his laughter; that wonderful cackle that could be heard throughout the whole house.

And the nights were so cold. So bitterly lonely and cold.

And all I could do was hope that he wasn't hurting as much as I was, wherever he was hiding.