The Course Of True Love

by geminigirl02

Loki Odinson never expected to see his mother hurrying down a hall with a smart-mouthed, soot-covered figure who was supposedly the princess of Vanaheim. He never expected her to stay more than a week, much less an entire century, and he surely did not expect their initial animosity to morph into the fluttering, tickling feeling he got in his stomach every time she was near.

9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Falling from the Bifrost was a disorienting affair. Landing on Jotunheim was even worse what with the hoard of frost giants attacking him and his brother from all sides.

At first, they fought them well. Thor used Mjolnirto reduce the Jotuns to piles of rock and ice whilst Loki got them with his illusions. He got a few good hits in with his daggers, too, felling some of the most ruthless enemies he had faced to date. He would have preferred to have not been attacked at all, but he had to admit it was fun to be fighting side by side with his brother again.

That all changed when one of the frozen beasts grabbed ahold of Thor's head and slammed it into the side of a glacier. The scream his brother let out was full of such agony that it stopped Loki in his tracks. He ran to his brother, sliding to his knees near Thor's large form. A hit like that should not have taken him out. He was a God, immortal to a point. There was no way one slam of his head would be so detrimental.

"Brother?" His whisper was a visible puff in the cold air. "Thor!" Loki shook him, and his head lolled to the side to reveal an icy burn wrapped around the back of his neck. The skin looked necrotic, shaped like a huge handprint. Loki could hear a sizzle coming from the blackness.

It was then that the Jotun grabbed him.

He— or she, for Loki could not decipher—came out from nowhere. A thick, icy hand latched on his own with a death grip. The hand squeezed, and Loki braced himself for the sting of the burn. Except it never came. A coolness overtook his skin instead, and blue blossomed along the length of his hand.

Blue, like the colour of the light within the ancient casket. Blue, like the colour that was now on every inch of his skin. The colour that he suspected indicated his true heritage and was now making his favorite person in the whole universe regard him as though he were a horrific monster.

"Loki, put down the casket," said his mother. Tears cut fat streaks down her face. "Please."

He obliged, if only to get Sigrid to stop looking at him like she was. As soon as the casket left his hands, a warmth spread throughout his body. He felt the blue skin and red eyes sinking into him to reveal his Aesir form, and he fixed his father with a hateful glare. "I suppose you're going to tell me it's a curse."

Loki wished it was a curse. That was curable. That was manageable. The alternative, he feared, might be too much for him to bear.

"No," said his father. "It is not a curse."

"Then what is it?"

"Loki, there must be an explanation," Sigrid said, speaking for the first time. She looked from his mother, to Odin, then back. "Right?"

"I think the explanation is quite clear," he hissed. "That war with the Jotuns all those years ago. Your greatest souvenir was the casket, but it was not the only thing that you returned with, was it?" No one gave an answer. "WAS IT?"

Sigrid flinched at his sudden yell. His mother, more used to his tantrums, attempted to placate him. "Loki, we were going to—" Loki held up a hand.

"No. No. You're not going to swoop in and fix everything, not this time." He swung a shaking, pointed finger towards his father. "I want to hear it from him."

The world seemed to still. There Loki was, locked in a stare with his father and finally about to get some answers to questions that had plagued him his whole life. Why Thor had been the unannounced favourite of his father. Why he always felt so out of place—so different— from everyone else on Asgard. No. He was not backing down. Not today.

"The war was over," Odin began, weariness creeping into his face. It was strange, Loki thought, how he knew that his father was past his prime, yet he had never looked as old or as tired as he did now. "Their king had fallen; the casket was captured and Jotunheim was at our mercy. It's a horrid place, that Jotunheim. Hardly space for anything to grow and I've often wondered how any sort of life could survive there." Odin gave a mighty sigh. "You can imagine my surprise when I came across, of all things, a baby in the temple."

Loki looked down at his hands. "A baby? Do you mean…"

"You. Small enough to fit in the palm of my hand." The side of his father's mouth twisted up at the side as though remembering a fond memory. "Too small, it seems, for the son of a king."

"Laufey." The revelation came from Sigrid. "But that makes no sense. Sons are pivotal to the continuation of royal lines. Why would a king cast out his own son?"

"Because Jotuns don't take well to weakness," Loki grit out. "And that's exactly what I was. The runt of the litter. An embarrassment. Surely not fit for a throne."

"No one here thinks of you in that way," his mother said. "Odin brought you back because you had no fault in the part the giants played in their demise. He was not about to leave you there in the hands of the same people who left you suffering and near death. Your father—"

"But he is NOT. MY. FATHER!" Loki yelled. "Not really! I want to know why. Why did you take me? There is another reason, I know it!"

"Can you not just accept that I wanted to save your life?" Odin asked. "That you were innocent and did not deserve to die for being born smaller than usual?"

"I do not! I do not accept that because I know it is a lie!" Loki began advancing on his father. He saw Sigrid start towards him, only for his mother to hold her in place. "If it were only that then you would have told me since I was a child. You would not have let me think I was out of my mind for feeling like a stranger in my own home. So, what was it?"

Odin reached out a hand. "Loki—"

"TELL ME RIGHT NOW!" His screams echoed throughout the vault. Never in his life had he raised his voice at his father—his king. A snark remark here or there, maybe a needling comment or two, but never like this. Never with such insolence.

Odin measured him with a long look. It was unnerving how a man with only one eye could muster such authority that he made one forget this little flaw. "A truce. I was hoping that when the time was right, you would help bring about a peace between Jotunheim and Agard."

Loki gaped in disbelief. "Is that what I am to you? Just a device to be used. Ignored until you deem fit?"

"That is not at all what I said. Why must you always see things from the least desirable perspective?"

"There is no other perspective!" he cried. "There is only the perspective of the little boy who could not understand why he felt so unlike everyone else. The one who saw his brother being favoured and tried his hardest to do better, be better—except little did he know the odds were already stacked against him."

Loki stopped to shake his head. "All this bluster about Thor and I both being born for the throne. You never intended to give me the throne. You would never let a frost giant rule Asgard. It was always going to Thor, wasn't it?" His father's silence was answer enough. "I thought so."

"Loki," Frigga began, crossing the distance to him. She reached out to him. "We are so sorry—"

"No," he pulled out of her grasp. "I expected more from you. Even if he couldn't, you could have told me the truth. I thought you would at least have the decency."

Frigga recoiled as though she had been slapped. "I—"

"Save it." Loki waved his hand, and a portal appeared. There was no destination in mind. He just wanted to be anywhere that was not here. "Go check on Thor. Your actual son. I do hope the terrible frost giants did not leave any permanent damage."

Loki could not even look at Sigrid before he stepped into the portal and let the green shadows transport him away.

ooOOoo

"This feels wrong," muttered Thor. He reached a hand up to stop the serving girl that was pouring his ale. "We should be looking for Loki, not hosting a party."

Sigrid massaged the centre of her forehead in soothing circles. A sharp pain had blossomed there the night that Loki disappeared through the portal. That was four days ago. Now the dulled ache served as a constant reminder that she did not know where Loki was or if he was even okay.

"I agree," she whispered, not wanting Odin to hear. It had been a strained few days since the revelation of Loki's true heritage. The entire palace had sensed that something was amiss within the royal family, and the sudden departure of the younger prince did nothing to quell the rumors. Of them all, the most ridiculous had to be that the prince had left in a jealous rage due to the arrival of a suitor for Sigrid.

Thor leaned down to her ear. "Then let's get out of here. Father won't even notice with all these nobles around. He's too busy putting on a show." He was halfway out of his seat when the king's voice cut through the air.

"Sit down." Thor did not.

"I tire of these festivities, father." The rage in his voice was not concealed well. Unlike Loki, Thor wore his heart on his sleeve. He did not see the need for false pretenses when it came to his mood.

"You never seemed to mind them before," his father replied. He lifted his grey brow. "Had it been any other day, you'd be the centre of attention. We would have to send half the army to pry the women off you."

"Do you at all care that Loki has not been seen nor heard of in days?" His voice dipped to a hiss, but he did return to his seat. "He was injured in the battle. We don't even know if his wounds have been treated." The only indication of Odin's mounting annoyance was the whitening of his knuckles on his golden chalice.

"Heimdall is keeping an eye on him. You know as well as I do that when your brother does not want to be found, he simply will not be."

"Son," Frigga cut in, attempting to ease some of the tension. "I know this is hard, and I commend you for thinking of your brother so. Valhalla knows his whereabouts plague my sleep as well. I'm sorry—"

"You should be sorry," Thor snapped. "You should both be very sorry. How could you keep something like this from him—from us? Did you think I would love him any less? Loki is my brother." Words could not express how grateful Sigrid was to hear Thor say that. For all his taunting and teasing of Loki's penchant for magic, it was nice to know Thor was on his side.

"Not at all," Frigga hurried to assure him. "We just never wanted him to feel any different."

"Good lot that did," muttered Sigrid. The queen met her words with a stupefied expression. Sigrid cursed in her mind. She had not at all meant to speak so loudly. Now that she had, she decided she might as well say what was on her mind. "It was wrong to keep the truth from Loki. Had it only affected the both of you that would have been different, but we're talking about his entire being here."

Sigrid turned her eyes on the king. Her boldness when addressing the monarchs astounded even her. "And it still did not prevent him from feeling different. If anything, knowing he was a frost giant could have helped him. At least then he would know the reason was nature and not some fault he committed that he could not recall."

Odin gazed back at her without falter. In his eye lay an expression akin to admiration, which puzzled Sigrid even more. She had thought his reaction would be more along the lines of distaste.

"You are as fierce as the day you arrived, Sigrid. I am glad to see it." Odin took a sip from his goblet. "When you ascend to queendom, as I have no doubt you will, you will need that same fire in you to properly rule the nation. Many a hard decision will be made by you, some that may make you compromise your morals in ways you never thought you would. Maybe then you will understand what I did."

Thor, at her side, came to her defense without a second thought. "Sigrid would never do what you did. Neither would I, when I ascend to king. There will be no secrets from my loved ones when I rule."

"Then it's a good thing you're not yet king."

Sigrid felt her jaw drop. Even Frigga threw a dismayed glance in her husband's direction. It was no big secret that Thor was next in line for the throne. He was the elder son, and as recent events revealed, the only blood heir. Yet she could not deny that he was reckless, and his arrogance was in no short supply. She knew it was the main reason Odin had been holding off on his coronation, but to hear him voice it must have been a blow to the younger god.

The wares and cutlery on the table gave a sudden lurch. It was, she realized, a result of Thor fisting the tablecloth with such fervor that it pulled the entire thing in his direction. Around them, the other occupants of the table noticed that a tiff was in session. Noble eyes focused on him and his father to discover what was going on.

"Thor, I want to dance." She placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. He was still holding the eye of his father, a storm brewing in his baby blues. Sparks of electricity danced around Thor's fingertips. "Thor." She shook him now, feeling the tiny hairs stand up on the back of her neck. The last thing this party needed was for Thor to slice the table in half with lighting and electrocute most of Asgard's finest.

He pushed his chair back, letting the legs scrape against the floor. The resounding screech curdled Sigrid's blood in the most unpleasant way. She took his outstretched hand, skin still tingling with unease, and let him lead her onto the dance floor. It only took a minute for him to start speaking again. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome."

The live band was playing a well-known song. Thor was too distracted by his father's words to lead, so she took the initiative to do so herself. She had performed this same dance with Loki hundreds of times before. He was by far the best dance partner she had ever had. Skillful, full of grace and not once did he step on her toes. Sometimes he would even put her on his feet and dance her around when hers began hurting.

"—grid. Sigrid!"

She blinked at Thor's raised tone. It was clear he had called her name more than once. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if you had been sleeping well. You look awfully tired." His expression dared her to lie, so she decided against sugarcoating and answered his question with a shake of her head. "You are worried about Loki. So am I. I only wish that frost giant had not grabbed me and put me out for days. There was no way I was letting Loki leave here so upset."

He must have seen the guilt on her face, for his eyes widened in alarm. "I meant no blame towards you, sister. It is not your fault that Loki left. Please do not fret too much."

"I know what you meant," she murmured. "I just…Thor you should have seen his face. He looked so broken. I fear he may not come back from this."

"He will." Thor's hand tightened on her dress near her waist. "He must. Loki is strong. This will not break him."

"Do you want me to go talk to Heimdall?" she asked quietly. "I can slip out and—Thor, are you listening?"

Something had caught Thor's attention while she had been speaking. His eyes, which were on hers seconds before, had now strayed over her head. Miffed, she turned to see what had distracted him. Her stomach dropped when she took in the sight.

Loki was sitting on his father's throne. He was in the same clothes he had worn the night he returned from Jotunheim, although they were much more torn and stained than before.

"Thor—"

"I know." He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him towards Loki. His father had already spotted him and was on his way there too, Frigga hot at his heels. Even before she got to the throne Sigrid knew this was not going to end well.

She and Thor reached him first. Her heart stuttered upon seeing him, and she was overcome with the urge to throw herself onto his lap and hug him until he could not breathe. The hug would be followed soon after by a good tongue lashing, because how dare he disappear and make her sick with worry? Did he not know that she could not function unless she knew he was safe?

"Loki, what are you doing?" It was Frigga's voice, careful and tender as always. "You know you cannot sit there."

Loki lifted his head to look at his mother. From this angle, Sigrid could see the beginnings of a beard on his face. He abhorred stubble, meaning he must have been very out of it to not even use his magic to keep his face clean-shaven. "Why not? Thor and I used to sit here all the time as children." A whiff of his breath told of days of mead-drinking.

"You are no longer a child so stop behaving like one." Odin commanded. "Remove yourself from my throne and go to your rooms at once. I'll have no further embarrassment from you tonight."

Loki's nostrils flared. "You mean I am not your child. Does it bother you, Odin Allfather, to have a frost giant sit on your throne? To have the quiet relic you stole besmirch your very symbol of authority?" The trickster leaned back, propping his muddy boots up on the seat. It left dirt and grass on the polished gold.

"Loki, stop this," Sigrid begged. Red-rimmed eyes flickered to hers. The action seemed to pain him, and it hurt her too to see him so broken down. "Let's get you to your rooms. We can talk there." She held out a hand for him to take. In her periphery, she saw Frigga gave her a nod of encouragement. "Please come with me. I'll stay with you, I promise."

Loki's eyes travelled down to her hand. He seemed to be deep in thought contemplating his next actions. To help him along, Sigrid kept a small smile on her face and ignored the pressure weighing on her shoulders. If not her, Loki would listen to no one.

Just when she thought he would not give in, his smooth hand enveloped hers. She gave him a relieved smile as he got to his feet, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Okay," he muttered, grip on her hand tightening. "You'll stay?"

"I'll stay." She held his bicep with her other hand and walked them out of the hall. Thor took up his other side, helping her support the drunken prince. There was no way she would have been able to carry him to his rooms all on her own.

They were only a few steps away from the main hall when a voice called out. "Loki!" Sigrid let out a groan. Trust Odin to make matters worse.

"Not now, father," Thor grit out. "You can yell at Loki tomorrow. He is not in his right mind."

"Thor is right," Frigga agreed. She was trying, and failing, to keep her tone even. Like Sigrid, she sensed that the night had a terrible end in store. "He's inebriated and doesn't know what he's doing. Just let him be."

"Let him be?" Odin repeated. "Let him be? He just disrespected my throne in front of the entire court. I refuse to believe there was no sober intent in that!"

"Odin—"

"Everyone in this hallway will stop now. It is the command of your king."

Sigrid came to a halt. She and Thor shared a look, and she knew he was hoping that they were far enough from the hall that no one could hear the shouting that was about to ensue. "Look at me, boy."

"Father—"

"I said look at me!" Thor blanched, and the three of them turned to face their king. Sigrid could feel the agitation coming off Loki in waves. It only worsened when Odin marched right up to his face. "Tell me what that idiotic stunt was about."

Loki gave a shrug. "I wanted to sit, and the throne was there."

"Do not get smart with me," Odin warned. "You wanted to make a statement, and you've made it. Loki does not have to listen to anyone. Loki can do what he wants. Tell me; do you feel any better having done it? Is your need for revenge satisfied?"

"You know nothing of my needs!" Loki growled. "Nor of my satisfaction." Sigrid tightened her grip on Loki's arm. Thor took a step towards his father, ready to throw himself between the two of them if need be.

"Odin, this is not—"

"Silence!" Frigga snapped her mouth shut. A twang of pity rose in Sigrid's stomach for the queen. She hated it when Odin directed his anger towards her.

"You could show a little gratitude, you know," Odin continued. "I saved your life."

Loki gave a bitter laugh. "Does it make you feel better, that lie you tell yourself? Does it help you sleep at night to think yourself a saviour?"

Odin's eye hardened. "For all intents and purposes, I am your saviour. Your parents didn't want you. They left you there to die." Had she not known death would be her fate, Sigrid would have kneed the king in his most precious place for throwing such harsh truths at his son. "Don't act like your life here has been a hardship—"

"My entire life has been a lie!" Loki exclaimed.

"You are a prince! Your entire life has been wealth and privilege! I have made it so you want for nothing!"

Loki scoffed. "Oh please! You have always favoured Thor over me! At least now I know why."

"What you see as favour, I see as a smart decision. I could never have nurtured your seidr in the way Frigga did, and she could not have trained Thor in the way I did." Odin's tone was matter of fact, which added to Loki's fuming.

"Do not attempt to explain away your blatant favouritism as a stoke of genius—"

"I suggest you watch your tone, son. I may be your father, but I am also your king!"

"I am not your son!" Loki yelled. "And you are not my father. You are just the selfish king who took me from my home until you were ready to use me for your own gain!" Sigrid saw the king's temper crack.

"I did not take you, you foolish boy! I saved you! Had I not, you would not be here to hate me now," Odin shook his head.

"You talk of my death as though I asked you to save me from it. Guess what?" Loki threw his hands up. "I never did!"

"Then perhaps I should have left you there!"

"FUCK YOU!"

A loud crack sounded through the air. Loki stumbled backwards, taking Sigrid to the floor with him as the force unsteadied him. He choked out a sob, a hand pressed to his reddened cheek, and all Sigrid could do was stare. Her brain could not quite process what she had just seen. One minute Loki was yelling at his father and the next he was on the floor.

"Why did you hit him? What did you do?" she heard Thor yelling. She knew he was close to her, yet he sounded so far. It was as though he was calling out to her from across the courtyard.

"Sigrid. SIGRID!" Her mind took a while to catch up to the person calling her name. She was too focused on the fresh blood dripping from Loki's lip. "Sigrid!" Frigga shook her hard. "Pay attention, child!"

"You're crying, your majesty." Sigrid reached up to touch one of the tears on the queen's face. "What is the matter?" She was still so, so confused.

"I said pay attention," Frigga snapped. Her hands came up to wipe Sigrid's face, which had become wet for some reason. "Take Loki to his rooms, now! Please look after him."

There was still yelling in the background—Thor, and now Odin. She wanted to ask what was going on, but her queen had given a directive and she had to obey. "Yes, of course." She helped the queen get Loki to his feet. "Of course. Of… Sorry, what should I do?"

Frigga stared at Sigrid as though she had lost her mind. Sigrid could not blame her. It seemed as though her mind had gone for a walk and forgotten to tell her in advance. "Loki," Frigga stressed. "Look after him, please."

"Right," Sigrid nodded. "Loki. My Loki."

Frigga made a noise of impatience. It was only then that Sigrid realized she had not moved. Funny. Her body felt like it was going a mile a minute.

"Here." She blinked again. A portal appeared in front of her, swirling and purple. It was much neater than Loki's. "This should help."

Frigga pushed the two of them through without another word.

ooOOoo

By the time Sigrid figured out what had happened, there was a naked prince in her bathtub.

Frigga's portal had led her to Loki's room, which made no sense since all her clothes were in her room. She marched out of his forest hued chambers and into her own, slipping behind her screen to change into her nightgown. When she came out, the sight of Loki sitting on her bed gave her a fright.

He looked like he had not bathed in days, so she went about drawing him a bath. She left the water cool like he preferred and instructed him to get into tub. Loki did so without question. Sigrid left to get some towels while he undressed. When she returned, he was seated below the bubbles in her built-in bathtub.

The sight of his face was what made the most recent events come rushing back to her. Purple and red mottled his left cheek, and a streak of dried blood dribbled from the side of his lip. A gasp of air escaped as she remembered the sound of Odin's back hand hitting Loki's face. It drew a look from the victim himself, to whom she gave a weary smile.

"I was getting some towels." She spoke low so as not to startle him. "Would you like me to help you wash your hair?" He gave a nod. "Alright." Sigrid settled behind him on the steps leading up to bathtub. She reached for her shampoo and poured a generous amount into her hands. "I'm afraid your hair will smell like berries for the next few days. Unless you want me to pop into your room for yours?"

"No." It was the first time he had spoken since the incident. "I quite like the way your hair smells."

Sigrid began massaging the shampoo into his hair with soothing motions. He made a noise of content, even closing his eyes in rapture, and she decided to continue her actions for as long as possible. It was the least she could do after what he had been through. "Do you want conditioner?"

"Yes." She rinsed the shampoo from his hair using the glass bowl she kept with her. Next, she reached for the tub of the thick, pink conditioner formulated just for her. "I'm not going to ask if you're okay." Her fingers spread the substance through the ends of his hair like her mother had taught her. "I just want you to tell me what you need."

A beat passed. "What I need?" The question sounded self-directed. She left him to his thoughts while she finished conditioning his hair. It needed to stay in for a few minutes, she knew. "What do I need?" Loki mused.

Again, she said nothing. She just leaned down to rinse her hands clean of the hair product. They were almost rid of the remnant sliminess when Loki turned his body to grab her. "Lo— Ah!"

Water splashed out of the tub as she was pulled in. He seized her by the waist, pulling her body so close to him that she could feel his breath with every exhale. "What are you doing?"

"Let's run away."

"What?" Bathwater had soaked through the thin material of her nightgown. It now clung to her body in the most wanton way, allowing an eyeful of her nude body beneath. Loki took immediate notice. His green eyes roamed over the upper half of her body, pausing at the peaks caused by her hardened nipples courtesy the coolness of the water.

"Run away with me," he murmured. He leaned his head forward until his forehead touched hers. "Please?"

"Loki…" His body tensed beneath hers. She knew he had anticipated what her answer would be. Not wanting to pile anymore stress on him—for that would be cruel considering what he was going through— she decided humoring him would be the better option. "Okay. Tell me where we would go."

A dark brow quirked in delight. "Anywhere. There is nothing holding me here besides you, and I no longer wish to remain here. Let's go somewhere else, just the two of us."

Her hands rested on his toned chest. Loki may not have looked it, especially underneath all that armour and long-sleeves, but his body was muscled as any other warrior's would be. On a regular day, Thor's hulking form tended to garner more of the attention. Yet, Sigrid had always thought that Loki possessed a superior beauty to his brother.

"And what would we do?" She asked, knowing she was teetering on the edge of a dangerous cliff. "Just the two of us?"

The look Loki gave her was full of innuendo. He was thinking, she knew, of some more carnal activities they could engage in. A blush rose to her cheeks. She would be lying if she said she was not attracted to Loki. Many a night, when she found herself overcome with desire she had not yet let any man fill, her hands would slip beneath her nightgown and Loki would appear in her mind's eye.

Despite him being her best friend, she never felt bizarre thinking of him in that way. Desires were fine once they were confined to the mind, especially when they were tied in with safety. Loki was the one man she trusted over all else. She was comfortable with him in a way she had never been with past suitors.

It also helped that she knew he was attracted to her too. Sigrid was too much of a lady to call him out, and she would deny it if anyone else did, but she noticed little changes in his behaviour within a few years of knowing him. His touches had evolved from a hand on her arm to strokes of the cheek and circles on her lower back. His stares became longer and more lingering, particularly when she wore that lilac dress that hugged her torso and hips.

She could not count number of times she had caught him staring at the curves of her body. And if none of that was any indication, the way he was adjusting her on his lap would have erased any doubt.

Sigrid bit her lip when Loki took her legs and made her straddle his waist. His pelvis pressed flushed against hers, and she could feel all of him through her thin clothing. Slender hands held carefully— one at her waist and another between her shoulder blades. An aquiline nose skimmed up the side of her face to position his lips near her ear. "Why don't I show you?"

For just a moment, Sigrid forgot why giving in would be a bad idea. She forgot that he was her closest friend. It did not matter that adding a sexual encounter to their relationship may complicate things. All her mind could focus on was Loki's hot breath at her ear and the resultant shiver that went down her spine.

Her reaction egged him on. He let his tongue flick out over the tip of her ear before grazing his teeth over the skin.

"Oh!" Trust Loki to find one of her weak spots on the first go. It was just like him to know something like that. However, it could have been worse. He could have— "Norns!" Of course, he had found it; that sweet spot at the base of her neck that never failed to get a response from her. She had never let anyone else get much further than that, but Sigrid had a feeling Loki may be the first man to make her throw all caution to the wind.

And that was precisely why she stopped him. "Loki, we have to stop."

"Do we?" His lips were still at her neck. The dry skin brushing against her as he spoke made her shiver.

"Yes, yes we do. This is a very bad idea." He released her immediately and leaned back against the tub. His eyes took in her flushed face, then her heaving chest, and the side of his mouth turned down in a frown.

"My apologies. I thought…" He shook his head to clear it of whatever invasive thoughts had settled. "I was mistaken. I'm sorry."

His jaw tensed. The light in his eyes went out again. She could see disgust settling in the luminous orbs as he came to terms with what he had just tried to do. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" His voice sounded empty.

"Blaming yourself for everything. Your actions did not offend me."

Loki's forehead creased in puzzlement. "But you just—"

"My reasons for stopping you are not for a lack of want, rather that you are not in the right frame of mind to understand the impact were we to continue." The widening of his eyes only served to increase the palpitations of her heart. Looking back, Sigrid would describe this as a pivotal moment in her life. She felt as though she was in confession, but of what, she could not say.

"I must go now," she told him. "These clothes have grown comfortless."

Loki moved his hands off her and held them up in surrender. "Yes, of course."

She could not look at him as she left the bathroom. Not with her heart pounding against her ribcage and the more primal part of her mind yelling at her to get back in the tub. This, Sigrid ignored with every fiber of her being. She let her feet carry her to her desk, still dripping wet, and reached for the parchment she kept in her top drawer. Her hand trembled as she addressed the letter and wrote a simple declaration.

Dear Papa,

I am coming home.