Hello everyone!
Huge thanks to all of you for your marvelous support and reviews. It means the world, seriously. Especially during the holiday season and the ungodly surge of classwork and projects and concerts and performances that happen at the exact same time. Your patience is greatly greatly appreciated.
Oh! Just as a clarification, because somehow there was confusion? Even though Fandral and Aemilia did some things a couple chapters ago, they most definitely did not actually have sex. I may not be the most explicit smut writer out there, but...trust me, if it's actual sex, you'll really know, haha. So...if you thought this was somehow the case, I encourage you to look back.
FINALLY. HUGE THANKS TO TEAM DAMON FOR BEING THE NEVERENDING SOURCE OF SUPPORT AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH AND OMG WOW WHAT A WOMAN. (If for some unknown reason, you haven't checked out her newest fic "Til Death Do Us Part" you're really missing out. Wow.)
OH WAIT ONE MORE THING. At the end of this update, I'll leave a little list of songs I used as inspiration for the opera and just generally for this chapter, if you're interested! As most of you know, I'm a vocal performance major in school, so I use a lot of classical and operatic inspiration. If that's not your cup of tea, I understand, but it'll be there for anyone who is curious!
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and please leave a review to let me know what you think! Happy Thanksgiving for all you US readers, and just a nice, general Happy Holidays to everyone! :D
*Midnightwings96*
Aemilia had performed through many obstacles during her career thus far. Through many years of dedication and training, she could now easily perform through missed lines, wrong cues, audience distractions, unexpected emotions, and personal complications, but this. Nothing could have ever prepared her for this.
As soon as Aemilia had exited the prison unscathed and met with Frigga, the Queen whisked her away to the Opera house without a word. She didn't ask any questions, to which Aemilia was incredibly grateful, for she truly did not know if she could coherently answer anything even if she tried. "Confused" couldn't even begin to explain the state of her mind right now. She really had no expectations to how her meeting with Loki would go, but this was beyond anything she could have fathomed.
Aemilia had witnessed Loki's growing instability firsthand a year ago. That had been highly worrisome and, quite frankly, scary then. Now, she questioned his very grip of reality, let alone the raging, chaotic state of his psyche.
As she blankly stared at her reflection in the mirror of her dressing room, a tortured, humorless chuckle left her throat when she realized just how further similar her situation was to that of her character's, even more so than she had originally thought. Her Eirik—once thought dead—had returned to her, but he was in pieces, a shadow of what he had once been.
They were both shadows, really.
When Aemilia had not been very forthcoming on her meeting with Loki, Frigga merely embraced her and wished her luck on her performance before she left for her box seat—the one she once shared with her youngest son. The clock ticked on, and as the show time inched closer, her mind travelled farther and farther away.
At about 15 minutes to the prelude, a light rap at her dressing room door startled her out of her thoughts. She accidentally knocked over a nearby cup of makeup brushes and hastily put them back as she ungracefully called, "Uh, come in!"
A familiar blonde head peeked through the door. "Aemilia?"
"Oh, Elida! Please come in," she said as she righted the last brush and turned to her friend.
Elida had a fairly convincing smile on her face, but Aemilia could tell she was worried about her. "I'm glad I caught you before you took your mark. I just wanted to come by and wish you luck!"
"Oh, uh, thank you. I appreciate it," Aemilia said, trying oh-so-very hard to smile through it all.
Elida looked at her for a second before asking quietly, "Are you okay?"
Aemilia's eyes dropped from hers immediately as she felt that tell-tale sting of oncoming tears that she refused to let fall right now. She was just so…so overwhelmed, it was only by the grace of a particularly strong dose of Frigga's anxiety recipe that she was holding herself together. With a huge, weighted sigh, she helplessly muttered, "No. I'm not."
Elida had no idea what she had just gone through barely 30 minutes prior. It was best that way for now, considering how very illegal it was.
The petite woman walked up to her best friend and kneeled in front of her to catch her gaze once more. Her small hand tightly grasped Aemilia's in an encouraging grip. When Aemilia finally looked back to her, Elida said quietly, "I can't imagine what you're feeling right now. The relief, the confusion, the despair, but…you can do this, Aemilia."
She shook her head. "I…I don't think I can, Elida. Not this time. I can't handle all of this overwhelming emotion and perform at the same time. My head's not in it, no matter how hard I try. I just don't have the mindset to get into character."
"…Then don't," Elida stated.
Aemilia blinked at her, confused. "What?"
"We've talked about how much you personally connect with Helena. Now more than ever. So, if you can't get into character, don't. Just…be yourself out there."
Aemilia's eyes widened at the very thought. "If…if I do that, there's no telling what might happen."
"…It's a risk, but I think you should take it. It's better to go all in than to hold yourself back. Besides," she continued, fixing a stray red hair that had fallen from Aemilia's up-do, "It might help you get some of those conflicting emotions off your chest. Valhalla knows I've had to do that on stage before. Besides, it might even give you some clarity, delving in that deep and just going for it, caution to the wind."
To say Aemilia was wary would be a severe understatement. "I don't know…"
Elida gave her hand another squeeze. "It's just a suggestion, you don't have to take it to heart. Either way, I'm sure you will be absolutely fabulous," she said with a bright, encouraging smile.
Aemilia gave a small smile back, appreciative of her support but still torn on what to do. Then, the two women heard the familiar bell chimes to signal everyone to their seats. Five minutes left until the orchestral prelude. Elida's eyes widened before she stood to her feet. "Time to go." Aemilia stood with her. "You're going to give the performance of a life time, I just know it," she smiled, standing on her tip toes and pulling her much taller friend in for a hug.
Aemilia gave a little laugh—the most genuine one she could muster—and hugged her back. "Thank you, 'Lida. So much."
Elida shrugged as she pulled away. "What are friends for?" She then went for the door before adding with a grin, "I'll see you after the show, okay? We can share a much needed bottle of wine. Now, you go show all those ignorant fools in the audience what real talent is." Then she disappeared with a giggle, leaving Aemilia with a little smile on her face.
It was a start, at least.
Aemilia heaved a huge sigh before she left her dressing room and headed to her mark. Quickly after that, the orchestra hummed to life and sailed into the Prelude.
It was with a fluttering heart and shaking hands that she closed her eyes and thought one thing.
For Loki.
Elida hurried to her seat in the orchestra section, frantically looking for her seat before the lights would dim. Upon finding the correct row, she awkwardly wiggled past those already seated, apologizing on a loop until she finally reached her empty seat. Fandral was already seated to her right. He stood upon noticing her arrival.
"Good evening, Lord Fandral! I see you're early," she teased.
He smiled, "Good evening! However, I do believe you were very nearly late, Lady Elida."
She shrugged, "Yes, well, I had to speak with Aemilia before she went on! Were you able to speak with her beforehand?" she asked, totally oblivious.
Fandral's once cheery smile faltered and he looked at her in confusion. "Has…Aemilia not spoken with you?"
Elida's bright blue gaze turned from the stage to him, her eyebrows pulling together at his unexpected change in tone. "Spoken to me about what?"
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat before quietly muttering, "We, uh, well. We have ended our courtship."
Elida's eyes widened. "Oh. No, she hadn't told me…" she said, her voice dropping quieter as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I am so sorry. I know this situation is…severely complicated."
Fandral chuckled a bit, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You certainly speak the truth. But…it's alright. I don't hold any ill will towards her. These are impossible circumstances. This will be a challenging transition, but in time all wounds will heal."
Elida smiled at that, his optimism – somber as it may be – was refreshing. "I couldn't agree more, my Lord."
He cracked a small grin and replied, "My Lady, we've known each other for nearly a year now. I do believe you can address me without the 'Lord' title."
"Well, only if you drop that 'Lady' nonsense. Simply Elida will do."
"Simply Elida it is, then."
Before either of them could say anything further, the house lights officially dimmed. The two then settled into their seats and set their sights to the stage. As the opening notes of the prelude swelled through the theatre, Elida prayed to any and every deity on Aemilia's behalf. So nervous for her troubled friend, she gripped the arm of her seat until her knuckles turned white.
Come on, Aemilia. You can do this.
Since being imprisoned, Loki certainly hadn't possessed the sunniest of dispositions, but after Aemilia left from her little impromptu—not to mention illegal—visit, Loki's mood turned outright foul. He was more confused than ever, his instincts warring with his memories. He knew what he saw. Aemilia had betrayed him, scorned him, yet…having just spoken with her for the first time in a year, his heart yearned to believe her, to trust her. He felt, deep within him, that she told him the truth, and that only managed to anger him further. How could he let himself become so wrapped up and entwined with her? How had he become so weak and easily manipulated?
Stupid, idiotic oaf, he bitterly told himself as he slid back to his old spot on the floor.
Back to thinking, Loki supposed. That was all he could do in this forsaken prison.
He sat there for nearly an hour, his mind moving back and forth at a dizzying pace. His unblinking gaze might as well have been burning a hole through the floor from its intensity. Then, finally, a noise broke his concentration.
Loki furrowed his brows. Was that the sound of an…orchestra? Thoroughly puzzled, he looked up and immediately widened his eyes at the sight.
The crystal sent from his Mother sat on that pitiful wooden chair, gleaming and glowing with energy. It cast a vision before him of a dimly lit stage and an orchestra from below. It was the same familiar view that he had seen every time he accompanied Frigga to the opera.
With a thoroughly annoyed scoff and accompanying scowl, Loki looked away from the projection when he begrudgingly realized its purpose and the person behind it. Knowing she would hear him, he deadpanned, "Mother, please spare me. I have no desire to watch this."
There was silence for a long moment before Loki heard the steady, tell-tale voice of his Mother. "There is much you do not know. I believe this will be…enlightening to you, my son. Watch. Listen."
The apparition held firm, and Loki knew that his Mother would not take no for an answer. He heaved a sigh and flippantly flung a cloaking spell around the cell so the guards wouldn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary before bringing his eyes back to the stage just as the prelude came to a close and lights brightened the stage. It's not like he had anything better to do, anyway.
The beginning set was of a bustling town square in the midst of a festival. The energetic and colorful ensemble quickly launched into an old popular dance, one that Loki had once loved when he was younger.
A group of young women entered, singing of excitement for the festival and their search for love, for they had all recently gone public and were actively searching for partners. This spurred a girl to ask where a woman named Helena was. The rest of the group laughed and began teasing this so called Helena. "So fickle is she! Such an untamed and wild creature! Valhalla have mercy on her future betrothed, for he is a man most cursed!"
An older couple then emerged from the crowd, and a stern, severe looking woman harshly called, "Helena, come! Your pleas will do you no good; you must meet suitors tonight! Helena! Come!"
Then, just as Loki suspected, Aemilia – Helena – pushed her way through the crowd, a potent scowl on her face. Yet again, Loki was hit with how stunning she really was, her auburn hair falling in thick, loose curls down to her waist, and a simple yet striking purple dress that exquisitely clung to her frame and billowed behind her. Then, once she joined her parents, she launched into a heated argument with her Mother.
That first note that flew from her throat struck a chord within Loki so deeply that he almost forgot to breathe. Her voice. It had always been beyond anything that he had ever heard before, but hearing it again for the first time in an entire year…it made his very heart ache against his wishes.
Eventually the argumentative duet – and subsequent trio with the addition of Helena's equally stern Father – came to a tense close. Helena kept her mouth shut as she begrudgingly endured meeting potential suitors who were all old, rich, and painfully conservative noblemen.
After finally finding a chance to separate from her parents, Helena went to the outskirts of the festival where she could be alone, and thus began the first aria of the evening. Helena yearned for something more, to travel and experience different cultures, acquire knowledge, pursue her passions, and reach complete self-realization. She dreaded a future betrothal, for she knew it would put an end to all her aspirations, and she would be resigned to live an empty life of caring for an uncaring husband. The aria was fiery in her passion, and Aemilia's voice sailed to the stratosphere in an unyielding but perfectly controlled power.
Once she returned to the festival, Helena suddenly met a dark, mysterious, and handsome man – played by a particularly talented young baritone – named Eirik, who was telling rigorous tales of his many dangerous adventures throughout the realms. She caught his eye with her enthusiastic questions and vivacity for life and pursuit for knowledge. They had an unbridled chemistry, constantly sizzling underneath the surface. Eirik pursued her, and when they found themselves alone together, nothing can stop the two from sharing a consuming kiss. Loki couldn't help but scowl for a split second at the scene before him, but he quickly tampered that reaction down. Aemilia was no longer his, and he would not stoop so low as to feel jealousy towards a fake relationship in a theatrical production, as convincing and well-acted it was.
In a spontaneous decision to take control of her own life, Helena unashamedly bedded Eirik that night, for if her virtue was to be taken from her, it would be on her own terms with whom she chose. Loki would be lying if he said his skin did not suddenly prickle with heat at the eloquently explicit and passionate duet with surprisingly erotic text that the two shared before the stage dimmed. The similarities between these two characters and that of Loki and Aemilia's own first union were painfully parallel.
Aemilia had always possessed a strong maturity on the stage and in her natural countenance, but Loki could sense something was different now. The way she carried herself… He was reminded yet again of how much she had changed in his absence. No longer did he see the purely innocent young singer he had met two years ago.
As the show went on, Helena and Eirik decided to continue their secret affair, and they fell quickly and deeply in love. Their souls were one in the same. All was happy, but then tragedy struck when King Bor—Loki's grandfather, well, Thor's grandfather– declared war on the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim. All able-bodied men were demanded to fight for the King's army, and it was with tragic tears and promises of his return and undying love, Eirik left a distraught Helena.
Time passed, and Eirik's promise was broken, for he was declared missing with an impossible chance of survival. Helena told no one of their affair and suffered in her mourning, silent and alone. Two weeks after his disappearance, her parents obliviously arranged a marriage between her and a wealthy, middle-aged nobleman named Halvar, son of Kelby. Her spirit utterly broken, the two were married immediately.
Their wedding night, Halvar discovered her "impurity," and rained a fury of physical and mental abuse upon her. This continued for years, and with every foul word, raised hand, and every night of taking her against her will, Helena lost a piece of herself. Once a brilliant, vibrant, vivacious woman with a taste for adventure, she was now merely a husk of what she had been.
Then, one day in the market, Helena saw a familiar figure in the distance. She pursued him, and it is with great joy and intense sorrow that she discovered it to be her lost lover, horribly disfigured from war. He had upheld his promise, but at a terrible price. Scars covered his body and he had lost an arm in his escape from the Dark Elves, but his mind was in an even worse state.
The two reunited in a torturous duet, filled with both joy and pain. They sang to one another in a close embrace, tears filling both of their eyes. The melody was hauntingly gentle, but the intensity within it sent a chill down Loki's spine. Their tender and loving countenance brought back purposefully stifled memories of when he and Aemilia had first truly made love. Her words suddenly echoed in his head, Take care of me…I will always take care of you in return.
Helena and Eirik picked up their affair once more, but despite their long-awaited reunion, Eirik was too far gone. His mental condition spiraled, and Helena knew that the only way she could help him was to get away from her monstrous husband. But…she couldn't divorce him, and she couldn't run to a place where he wouldn't track her down, so she had only one choice.
One evening, she hid a dagger for her husband under her undergarments, and just as she was about to go upstairs to deal the final blow, she received a letter from a messenger boy in the night.
Eirik had hanged himself, leaving only a letter of impassioned and desperate apologies to Helena in his wake. He couldn't uphold his promise of forever, for he couldn't go on living despite his best efforts to get better.
It was suddenly eerily quiet on the stage, nothing but a low drone of a double bass. Helena, dressed in a haunting, flowing white nightgown, slowly ascended the stairs to her sleeping husband, her expression totally vacant except for wide, shaking, shocked eyes that even Loki could plainly see.
She stood before the bed above his motionless figure, simply staring and tightly gripping the dagger in her shaking hand. Loki watched with rapt attention as he witnessed genuine tears fill her eyes and fall down her cheeks, glistening in the dim lighting. She gritted her jaw and clenched her eyes shut for a split second.
Then, with a sudden, dissonant wail of a solo violin, she pounced on him, the music swelling with ever-climbing intensity. The lighting went to a blood red silhouette as she delivered the first blow, and again, and again, and again, slaying her own personal demon and putting an end to his monstrous reign over her.
When Halvar finally breathed his last breath, Helena got up and walked to the top of the staircase. The silhouette suddenly lifted to reveal her, white nightgown covered in startlingly vibrant red and her face spattered with blood.
After a beat of silence, Helena opened her mouth and let out the most gloriously tortured and stunning sound Loki had ever heard. She openly cried, hot tears flowing in a never ending stream down her cheeks as she descended the staircase, singing not of the horrors she just inflicted, but her sorrow of loss for Eirik. At one point, she looked upward, and Loki swore she was looking at him, her hazel eyes glistening and so tortured that it took his breath away. It was with unconscious tears of his own that Loki suddenly realized this wasn't Helena anymore. She wasn't playing a character. This emotion wasn't just brought about because of her exquisite acting skills.
Loki was watching Aemilia sing about losing him in such an unbridled, emotional, and real delivery that he couldn't doubt her. He watched, enraptured, as she got more and more engrossed in the music. The power that flew from her throat was beyond anything she had ever done before as both hands painfully clenched at her sides. Loki's heart started lurching with each note, almost unnaturally so. A pent up, suffocating sadness that wasn't his own suddenly overwhelmed his mind, washing through him effortlessly. Bewildered at the sudden onslaught of emotions—as if he needed more than what he already had—Loki looked closer at Aemilia, and his eyes widened at what he saw.
To any normal eye, it would simply look like Aemilia was giving the performance of her life. She was, but something else was also at play here. However, to him—someone who had trained in the magic arts for nearly two millennia, he could see the faintest of green glows radiating over Aemilia's form like an aura, growing stronger the further invested and emotional she became.
It was with deep surprise that Loki realized Aemilia was unknowingly projecting her emotions throughout the audience, causing everyone to feel what she was feeling in that moment.
Loki had always said she had sorcery in her voice, but he never meant it literally.
With that epiphany, Loki could feel the truth in Aemilia's words. Despite his conflicting memories and deep rooted confusion, he knew she hadn't lied to him. Somehow…he just knew.
Her voice ascended in increasing power, and she fell to her knees at the edge of the stage, burying her free hand in her disheveled curls. She raised the knife, screaming to Valhalla in anger and despair why she was bestowed so much misfortune and misery in her life. Eirik was the only person she had, and after losing him again, life was simply not worth living.
Her grip tightened on the dagger as she sang one last line, "My long lost love! We shall meet once more in Valhalla, where we will never part again!"
She then plunged the dagger deep into her abdomen and collapsed as the stage fell unto complete darkness and the orchestra struck an abrupt, powerful chord.
After a split second of total silence, a cacophony of applause roared throughout the audience, the attendees immediately launching to their feet. Loki, however, could barely blink as he sat frozen in his seat, his heart beating faster than he could comprehend.
The lights rose again as the cast made their way out for their bows. Eventually none but Aemilia remained, and when she stepped back onto the stage, the crowd erupted into another wave of applause. She looked shaken, clearly still riding the aftermath of such an emotional—and magical— outburst with tears still in her eyes. But, she kept her head held high and regal, an undoubtedly relieved smile on her lips. Her right hand gripped at a necklace around her neck as she bowed with grace. The rest of the cast joined her again, Eirik on her right and Halvar on her left, and she let go of the necklace to take their hands for the final bow.
Loki's eyes immediately caught the refracting light that bounced off the necklace as it fell to her breast. Furrowing his brows, he looked closer. It shimmered once more, the quality and vibrancy unique to only one stone in all the Realms that Loki was quite familiar with.
Loki's heart leapt into his throat. Around Aemilia's neck hung the very ring he had found for her and had given to Frigga for safekeeping. The ring he was never able to present to her. She was wearing it.
The very moment Aemilia made it back to the privacy of her own dressing room, she nearly collapsed with relief. Adrenaline harshly pumped through her veins and she felt her very being was buzzing with life. She'd never let herself go like that within a performance before. She always played a character with reckless abandon, but…she had never let such real and personal emotions take over while on stage.
It certainly didn't help that in the final scene, she had this unmistakable feeling that Loki was there with her, watching and listening.
Elida was right. It was painful to bring forth something so raw and personal, but now that it was over, she felt undeniably lighter, like a pressing weight of tension had been lifted from her chest.
A slight knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Assuming it was Elida, she opened it with a wide smile on her face.
What was waiting on the other side was not what she was expecting.
"Darling! Oh, you were absolutely marvelous!" came the slightly shrill exclamation of Ayre before Aemilia was thrown into a tight embrace.
"Mother? What are you doing here?"
Just as quickly as she had been pulled into a hug, Ayre pushed her out of it to look at her with a roll of the eyes. "Oh, what a preposterous question, darling, really. Can't a mother come see her talented daughter perform?"
"Of course, I'm just surprised is all. You did not tell me you were coming."
She shrugged flippantly, "Well, I figured it was obvious, Aemilia." It had been months since Aemilia had seen her Mother. She looked well, the same as always. Immaculately put together, hair up in an intricate twist, adorned with jewelry, makeup precise, and not looking remotely her age.
While the two women were still making an effort to mend their relationship, it had been a very slow and daunting task. Aemilia loved her mother dearly, but she found she simply couldn't spend much time with her any longer without wanting to scream to the heavens in frustration. The shallowness of conversation and the never-ending nit picking on her choices and appearance and life was just unbearable.
Just then, another familiar face walked up, warm and inviting. "Father!" Aemilia exclaimed, throwing her arms around Haidr's broad shoulders. The man chuckled in a deep baritone voice and hugged her, his large arms engulfing her entire body. Aemilia and Haidr had put forth much more effort in keeping their relationship alive, and it showed. Despite their pasts and the knowledge that they were not biological, their relationship was stronger than it had been in years. Their regular dinners together had come to a slight halt once her rehearsal schedule intensified, and then…well, when Loki came back, Aemilia really hadn't even had a chance to think about it. But now that he was here before her, it hit her how much she had missed him. "I've missed you," she murmured in his ear.
"I've missed you, too, my dear," he said as they pulled away. He then handed her a lovely single red rose with a small smile. "Your performance was simply exquisite. I'm so very proud of you." He smiled warmly, and she couldn't help but smile back.
But of course Ayre had to ruin it as she frivolously added, "Yes, you were fantastic, though I must say the…content of the show was unnecessarily progressive and at times, completely inappropriate.
"Ayre, please—" Haidr interjected.
"I'm merely saying that I felt the Eirik character was merely used as a political statement to put more focus on 'mental illness,' or something, as if going into battle and surviving should have any other reaction but celebration. And the suicide, I mean, the writers were really trying to get attention this time, weren't they? I simply—"
"Mother, it is neither the time nor the place to speak about such things," Aemilia interrupted, thoroughly finished with hearing anything further. She wasn't surprised that Ayre would say such things, though. Good. If the opera had made people like her uncomfortable, then it had served its purpose.
"It's just that—"
Haidr interrupted this time. "Enough," he snapped, his voice surprisingly firm and unyielding. His deep blue eyes were trained sternly on his wife, and Ayre's eyes widened for a moment before her slightly agape mouth shut. Aemilia knew for a fact that her mother was not used to hearing such a tone come from her husband.
A little smile quirked at her lips, and Haidr returned it when he looked back at her. "I thought it was something all of Asgard needs to see. Spread my congratulations to the rest of the cast, please."
"I would love to, Father."
He nodded, the noticed more oncoming visitors. "Well, my dear, I believe your Mother and I must be heading back home. Stay in touch, will you?"
"I will. Goodbye, Mother. Thank you for coming," she said, hugging her once more. Ayre gave her a rather cool one back, but she knew it wasn't out of real anger. Just a bruised ego. She then gave Haidr another hug and made sure to discreetly whisper in his ear, "I would like to meet with you for dinner again soon. Much has happened." A soft squeeze acknowledged her statement as they left their embrace. Sharing another quick glance, her parents then walked away.
Aemilia couldn't help the severe sigh of relief when she realized that—thank the gods—Ayre was not yet privy to the rumors that the younger Prince of Asgard had returned…and why. Aemilia could hardly fathom how she would react when she did.
As her parents left, Aemilia saw Elida and Fandral turn the corner. As soon as Elida made eye contact with her, the blonde bounded over to her surprisingly quickly and gave her a tighter hug than what Aemilia could have thought possible from a woman with so slight a frame.
"You did it! You were so amazing! I cried at least three times! And the last act…Odin's beard, I don't think my tears stopped the entire time! It was like I could feel every one of your emotions!" Aemilia smiled, overjoyed at her reaction.
"I merely took your advice, and you were right. I do feel better."
Elida relinquished her grip to look at her with a huge grin. "I knew it would! Why must we dedicate so much time and effort into our craft if we cannot use it for self-expression?"
"You are wise beyond your years, Elida."
The woman shrugged, her grin growing wider. "Thank you for acknowledging it." She then moved aside for the awaiting Fandral, who stood there with a rose of his own and a somber smile on his face.
"Fandral!" she began, "I…wasn't expecting you to come," she said honestly. He looked lovely, dressed in a navy jacket and his usual mop-like blonde hair brushed back and tidy.
He gave her a preposterous look. "Of course I came. I've witnessed this whole journey since before your audition, as if I would be so idiotic to miss the final presentation. And what a show it was, Aemilia. I'm afraid I don't have words." He then handed her the rose, and she graciously added it next to her father's.
She smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Fandral, I appreciate it very much."
He nodded in acknowledgement, but then his previous grin slowly faded. "I…also wanted to make sure I saw you after the show because…well, Thor has asked me—along with Hogun, Volstagg, and Lady Sif—to accompany him on an extended quest to help restore balance to the Realms after the uproar that occurred from the events on Midgard. I accepted."
That…took the wind out of her sails a bit. "You're leaving?" she asked, slight guilt creeping back into her thoughts. "You…you aren't leaving because…because I—"
He immediately shook his head, not letting her get the words out. "No, don't worry. I accepted because I feel it will be a good opportunity to clear my head. I need to get out, do what I do best." He paused and appraised her expression for a moment. "I know that look. You're thinking that you did or said something to make me want to leave. Don't do that to yourself, Aemilia. I'm doing this because I want to, because it's what I do, okay?"
She looked up at him warily, but eventually nodded. "How…how long will you be gone?"
"I'm not entirely sure. Queen Frigga and her affinity for foresight expects around six months, but nothing is for certain. It could take less time; it could take more." Six months. She supposed "restoring balance" was quite the daunting task, but she wasn't expecting that long of an excursion.
"When do you leave?"
"At first light tomorrow morning, I'm afraid."
"Well, I'm afraid life will be much more of a bore without you here, Fandral."
That made him grin. "I do agree with you there! But you will be fine! Her majesty will keep up your training, you have the opera, and I will be back before you know it!"
"Your optimism never ceases to brighten my spirits," she said with a smile and an amused shake of her head. "I will miss you much." He smiled at her sentiment and pulled her in for a hug, to which she graciously reciprocated.
"I will miss you, as well."
"Do try and be safe. I know how needlessly reckless you can be," she murmured over his shoulder.
He let out a hearty laugh at that as they exited their embrace. "I will do my best." He then looked over to Elida, who had been watching their exchange with a small smile. "I will miss you too, Elida, and your unique—but no less vivacious—spunk," he teased, and her cheeks immediately lit up in flames. Aemilia grinned.
"Yes, yes, I know. I'm hilarious," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes affectionately. "Before you get on a roll with the teasing, I must head home before it gets too late and my mother begins to worry." She looked to Aemilia, "Again, absolutely stunning job. I will see you soon," then she looked to Fandral, "And you! Don't be stupid and get yourself hurt. I'll see you when you return."
Fandral chuckled once more and nodded with a firm, "Yes, Ma'am."
With that, Elida left, and Fandral quickly turned back to Aemilia. "I'm afraid I must leave as well; I have quite a day tomorrow."
"Yes, of course! Go, get some sleep. Again, thank you for coming," she said, resting her hand on his arm.
His voice quietened as he gently took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. "It was my pleasure, Aemilia. Goodbye. Stay strong."
She nodded, a sadness settling upon her seeing him go. "Goodbye, Fandral." He then relinquished her hand and turned, leaving her to speak with the rest of her awaiting fans.
As Aemilia visited with her parents and friends, Loki had a visitor of his own.
Loki was sitting in the same spot on the floor, yet again scowling at nothing in particular when a familiar voice asked, "Did you enjoy the show?"
Loki let out a sigh and looked up, the visage of his mother standing before him as clear and real as if she were truly standing there. She looked lovely, as she always did, and she was looking at him in a way that made his spine prickle with irritation. It wasn't with pity, necessarily, just such a sadness at her adopted son's current plight, and he couldn't handle it.
With more effort than he cared to exert, he stood up, saying blandly, "Yes. It was a well done production."
Frigga stared at him for a moment before blurting, "Oh, Loki, don't be so childish and act as if what you witnessed didn't mean more to you than just an opera."
Loki blinked at her before breaking into a false, hopelessly sarcastic smile. "You're right! It was eye opening! Especially the part where I saw my ring dangling from her neck! Hmm…I wonder how she got her hands on that while I was gone?"
Frigga's eyes widened slightly, not expecting him to have noticed that, nor for him to have such a reaction. "Yes, Loki, I gave Aemilia the ring. Pray tell what was wrong in my decision to do so?"
"You didn't have the right!" he exclaimed, all of his pent up emotions making every one of his reactions more heightened.
Frigga reeled at Loki's display of absurdity. "I 'didn't have the right'? You gave the ring to me for safe keeping."
"Yes! Safe keeping. Not to just give it to her!"
"I gave it to her when I still thought you were dead, Loki! Aemilia deserved to know what your intentions had been, did she not?" she asked harshly, already thoroughly sick of his preposterous attitude.
He looked at her defiantly, his jaw clenching in irritation. Moments passed in silence before Loki suddenly changed the subject. "Speaking of, let's talk about the Woman of the Hour, hm?"
"What of her?"
"I'm assuming you saw what I did—felt what I did?" he asked, looking at her pointedly. She knew immediately what he was referring to. Frigga simply nodded. "Did you know she was capable of harnessing such power?"
"…I did. It's a very rare occurrence; she isn't even aware of it, and it's entirely fueled by a surplus of her emotions. It's only happened twice before."
Loki crossed his arms, "How did it manifest?"
Frigga raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to know?"
Loki nearly rolled his eyes but reigned it in at the last moment. "Mother, I would not ask if I did not want an answer."
She looked at him blankly before sighing, "The first time happened directly after you fell." His eyes widened, his expression growing somber. "She nearly fell after you, but Thor caught her just in time. She was crying for you, and when she noticed the All-Father standing there, she…blamed it all on him. It was while she was screaming at him that I noticed her hands turning green and the remnants of the bridge beginning to shake. I had to sedate her to keep her from breaking the bridge further and sending us all into the abyss."
Loki had heard this before from Thor on Midgard, but the second retelling did nothing to quench his surprise. Aside from the fact that she had enough magic to almost break the bridge further, he was most surprised to know that Aemilia—the woman he once called "little one"—had apparently screamed at the All-Father in confrontation. He hadn't heard of anyone doing that…ever (excluding Thor and himself, of course).
"And the second time?"
Frigga's gaze grew even darker as she recollected these past events. "It was only a week or two after you fell, and while she slept, her subconscious conjured a visage of you that remained once she woke up. She had been blaming herself for your death, and that guilt manifested in her vision by taunting her about it. Yet again, I had to intervene to make it stop."
Loki schooled his features into a picture of neutrality, despite the war raging within him. Every new thing that came from Frigga's mouth was further strengthening Aemilia's claims and weakening his own. He was not ready to confront the fact that maybe his mind actually was tampered with.
But now was not the time to focus on that. "But…that was just a physical manifestation of power. Tonight was different, though, wasn't it? You must have felt it, too."
Frigga nodded. "She projected her emotions; made others feel as she did. As you know, I keep myself heavily guarded from other magical forces, so I was not exactly sure what it was, though I could feel its presence. It was only until I looked over to the neighboring box seat and saw that stoic old Lord Tormund that I identified it. Typically he falls asleep out of boredom by the second act, but when I saw him, he was crying profusely. Like he himself had just lost a loved one."
"This is quite a powerful skill, and she doesn't even know she has it. Why haven't you told her?"
The Queen's lips ticked upward in a somewhat mischievous smile. Loki looked at her quizzically, but she merely said, "I suppose the time just hasn't been right yet."
He stared for a moment. "You know something."
She shrugged, "Nothing concrete. However, my foresight has been known to be quite accurate."
"So you won't tell me."
"Of course not."
"I thought so."
Silence settled over them for after that; Loki thanked Valhalla it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.
Frigga was the first to change the subject. "I've sent you a few…accommodations. A desk, books. I hope they will make this place somewhat more bearable." He chuckled humorlessly at his plight, but thanked her all the same. Her face grew somber, her voice lowering, "Loki…I can only imagine how you must feel…stuck in here like this, but you must know." She took a step closer and looked up at him, her beautifully expressive eyes teeming with sincerity. "Despite what it may seem, you are not alone. You never have been, and you never will be."
She was looking at him so hard that he found it difficult to look her in the eye without the oncoming sting of tears. So instead, his eyes dropped to the floor.
After a long pause, Loki finally found his words. "Mother, I—" but when he looked up, she was gone. He stared into the space that she once stood, his jaw clenched to try and reign in all of his confliction. It had taken some time, but after finally seeing and speaking with Frigga without Odin breathing down his neck, the gravity of how much he had missed her crashed down on him.
He harshly exhaled, blinking back tears, and quietly returned to his seat.
Despite her words, Loki felt lonelier than ever.
Much later into the night, Aemilia finally found herself back on the palace grounds. She had continued to meet with various high profile audience members for nearly an hour after her friends had departed, and then spent another hour celebrating the success with her fellow cast-mates and directors.
Overall, she was beyond ecstatic with the outcome. She had only heard praise towards her performance and the show, aside from an occasional comment here and there on how progressive it was. Asmund was particularly delighted, and had thanked her profusely for her hard work and sung her praises without ceasing. Before they finally left the theatre, he had actually boldly stated that as long as his heart beat, she would get any role she ever wanted. Despite the constant struggle to be involved in this show, Aemilia now felt that it had all been worth it.
Once she arrived home, she made sure to make another stop before she reached her chambers. There was someone she needed to speak with.
Entering the small armory adjacent to the training arena, Aemilia saw Thor's large figure looming over a table with a polishing rag in hand. His armor sat atop the table, and it was with amusement Aemilia realized this was one of the few times—if not the first time—she had ever seen the eldest Prince without his armor on.
Leaning against the door frame, she called, "I thought I might find you here."
Thor quickly turned in his seat, his eyes giving away his surprise at her presence, "Aemilia! I wasn't expecting you."
She sent him a small smile and replied, "After the show, Fandral told me he was leaving with you in the morning on a quest to restore balance to the Reams. I figured you would be here preparing for your departure."
He set the polishing rag down and fully turned towards her, "Yes. I apologize for missing your opening night. The timing has simply been, well…ill-timed."
Aemilia could certainly relate to bad timing. Her entire life as of late was made of it. "I understand, Thor. Do not worry. I was only hoping to talk to you before you left, since I imagine this will be an extended trip.
He straightened in his seat and gestured to a chair next to him. "I know not how long I shall be gone, so, please, speak," he said openly.
Aemilia sat down quickly, and began with a sigh. There was no need to dance around the subject any longer. "I need to know about what happened on Midgard," she said firmly.
If his immediate stiffness in posture and lack of eye contact were any indication, Thor was not happy with this choice of topic. He warily said, "…I thought my Mother already spoke to you about it."
"Yes, but you were actually there. I want your account."
Thor didn't look convinced. "Aemilia, I…"
"Please, Thor. I need to know," she said gently but unwavering. Thor's skeptical blue eyes met her own for a moment as he clearly thought about the situation. Eventually, he gave in with a burdened sigh.
Thor told her everything he could. He spoke of his first confrontation with Loki in the woods of Midgard and how Loki accused Thor of "tossing" him into the abyss rather than the harsh reality of Thor having to watch Loki willingly let go of Gungnir. He gave a quick summary of their tense argument on the Midgardian aircraft, being sure to leave out some of the more…heated and inappropriate things he had said of her amidst his anger and confusion. He also spent some time speaking of their fight atop Stark Tower, how…for a split second, Thor thought he had seen regret in Loki's eyes towards the horrific state he had plunged the city into. But just as Thor had found a sliver of hope in reaching his brother, Loki had stabbed him with a humorless statement of, "Sentiment."
Aemilia watched and listened with unflinching attention from beginning to end while keeping a surge of tears at bay. After Thor concluded, the two remained silent together for a long time, lost in thought, in pain, in loss.
Eventually, Aemilia asked quietly, "What do you plan to do about Loki now?"
Thor hopelessly shrugged, his eyes glued to his hands atop the table. "What about him? He's where he belongs."
Aemilia's brows furrowed in confusion at his unexpected words. Disbelieving, she returned, "…You can't believe that."
That made him look up, his eyes sad but hard in their resolution. "But I do. Like you said, I was there. You didn't see him. I tried to break through to him, make him see reason, bring him home, but he would hear none of it. Until the bitter end, I stupidly held onto some faith that he would come to his senses and stop the madness, and look at what happened. Loki nearly leveled an entire city of innocent Midgardians, all for a silly throne." Thor's fists tightly clenched in anger. "Now it is too late. I gave him all the opportunities I had to give, and he did not take them." His jaw ticked as he looked down in bitter grief. "I cannot recognize him anymore. He is not the brother I once played with as child, the one I once wanted to rule by my side. The brother I knew died when he fell from the bridge."
The tears Aemilia had tried so hard not to shed were falling freely down her cheeks. She couldn't believe the tragedy of what she was hearing. "But…you are brothers, in all the ways that count!" she exclaimed.
"You cannot give up on him," she said, desperate to make Thor see what she saw. "He was clearly not in his right mind, influenced by some…darker force. Your Mother told me about seeing the Other. He could be the one to blame for all of this, not Loki!"
Thor looked at her with such a sadness it made Aemilia want to scream. He was looking at her as if she was delusional, holding onto hope. He evidently thought there was none. "The Other may have altered his memories, but Loki's choices on Midgard were his own, Aemilia. I know you want to help him. I know you don't want to give up on him, but he gave up on his life with you, with us. He forgot about us in his own blind pursuit of power. I suggest you forget about him, too, for he will not see the light of day for a very, very long time." Thor feared his words were too harsh, but he needed her to let reality set in.
Aemilia would hear none of it. Her expression hardened as she boldly stated, "You grew and learned much during your banishment to Midgard, but you still have much more to learn if you think Loki's crime deserves such a punishment, when your own father has committed the same crimes time and time again throughout the millennia."
He shook his head, "My father has only done what he has done for the good of Asgard."
She looked at him incredulously, "But…that's sonly by a matter of perspective. Loki seems to have believed that what he was doing was for the greater good, as well!"
"And you think it was?"
"No!" As if she could ever think that. "I'm…horrified and deeply troubled by what happened, of what he did, but I'm also not blind as to the hypocrisy of leaving him to live the rest of his days in a dungeon when the All-Father has killed so many under his reign and…," she took a steadying breath, "and when you yourself sough to eliminate the Jotuns before your time on Midgard." Thor quickly went to retort, but she beat him to it. "Tell me, how does a three day banishment compare to thousands of years alone in a cell? I know you don't want to hear what I'm saying, but Thor…" She paused, realizing how increasingly intense she was becoming.
After closing her eyes for a second, she continued with a calmer approach. "I grew up by myself. I didn't know my biological father, I'm just now having a real relationship with Haidr, and my mother is…well, she's my mother. Being here, I have found a real, true family. Queen Frigga has been more of a mother-figure to me than my own, and in you," she grasped his hand, "I've found a brother." His once fiery eyes softened at her sentiment. "I love you very very much, Thor, and I'm saying all of this to you out of love. Loki may be very…troubled right now, but deep down, I know he still loves you. Please don't give up on him when he needs you most," she pleaded with him.
Thor showed clear sympathy, but she could tell by his expression that she hadn't really broken through to him. "Aemilia…I know you mean well, and your unflinching faith in Loki—despite his actions—is admirable, but I—"
She stopped him with a squeeze of his hand. "Just….please, think on what I have said. Please, Thor." She wasn't mad at him for not changing his mind. This was an impossible situation, and they were both handling it as well as they could. He just needed some time. The two shared another look as he slowly nodded. Aemilia gave him a small smile in gratitude and then released his hand, getting to her feet. He followed her.
"Now," her voice firmer with the change in topic, "I will leave you to finish your preparation. Bring peace back to the Realms. Then come back." She then quickly added, "Safe, please."
Thor smiled affectionately at that. "I will be back before you even have a chance to miss me."
She lightly scoffed and rolled her eyes, "I doubt that. And, please, make sure Fandral doesn't get too excited and get himself hurt again like on Jotunheim, hm?"
He gave a solid nod and said affirmatively, "I will watch out for him." A large hand gently rested on her shoulder. She looked up at him as he said—much like Fandral mere hours prior, "Goodbye, Aemilia. Stand strong during these trying times."
Her previous smile diminished a bit, but she held firm. "You as well, Thor."
Then, the eldest Prince of Asgard swept her into a huge hug, his body utterly engulfing her. Unlike her previous embraces with the god of thunder, however, it wasn't absolutely suffocating. He held her gently but firmly, and it helped ease the young woman's mind. Aemilia sank into Thor's arms, relishing in the comfort of his embrace before his departure.
A week passed. Thor and Fandral and the others had departed on their quest for peace. Helena had been performed an additional five more times, each ending with thunderous applause and raving reviews, despite the few conservative, older critics having a few words for the "progressive" nature of the opera. It was clearly a lovely beginning for a long-running show. And Loki was still in the same place, his loneliness growing more palpable with each day.
Loki had always found comfort being by himself with only his own thoughts, but ever since he returned to Asgard, those thoughts were turning into an increasing burden. His self-loathing was worse than it had ever been, relentlessly berating him for his failure on Midgard, his failure to prove his worth to Odin by destroying Jotunheim, and the list went on. So many failures…so many. Then he also chastised himself for letting himself be so taken up with his mistakes, and for his hidden, deep rooted desire to be accepted that he could never really shake.
And ever since seeing the opera, he was tortured even further with wrapping his head around the very real possibility that Aemilia was indeed telling the truth and that his memories had been warped into mere delusions. It was a war between what he felt and what he thought he knew, and the battle was proving to be long, hard, bloody, and it left Loki feeling more angry and bitter and confused than ever.
He was currently lying in his new, more comfortable bed, sent to him from Frigga, along with other various items. He now had a proper chair that didn't creak with each infernal movement, a small writing desk equipped with pen, paper, and a small collection of books—both nonfiction and fiction, and a mirror. He was grateful for the improved accommodations, but they ultimately were insignificant. He was still trapped with nothing but his own disturbed mind to keep him company.
He held a book of history across the realms, trying to read but not really soaking in anything. It was on his third try of reading a certain paragraph when a voice that was most definitely not his mother's suddenly sounded beside him.
"Hello again, Loki."
Even though he had been expecting her, the sound of her voice made him stiffen in surprise. His gaze stayed focused on the ceiling as he shut the book and rest it on his chest. "I was wondering if you were still coming."
"…Of course I came."
He sighed and finally turned his head to look at her. She was dressed in a simple burgundy gown, her hair in a long, loose braid. Why was it that his very heart hurt every time he looked at her? With a sigh, he set the book down and sat upright. "Shouldn't you be at the theatre?" he asked dully.
Her expression turned confused for a moment. "I…I don't have to be there this early."
"Oh?" He quipped, turning towards her. "My apologies, my days and nights do tend to get confused down here." He couldn't help the slight bitterness in his voice.
"How…how did you know about the theatre?"
"My mother, naturally."
"Oh."
Silence permeated the cell, neither party really knowing what to say or how to go about this little visit. Eventually, Loki spoke out to prevent the awkwardness from continuing further. He stood up and folded up his blanket and casually said, "She actually showed me the opera. Helena, I believe she said it was called?"
Aemilia's eyes widened comically while her face momentarily lost all source of color. "You…you saw the entire thing?" she stammered.
Loki crossed his arms over his chest, maintaining a nonchalant expression even though his regards towards the show was anything but. "Indeed. It was very well done, a welcome distraction."
She looked unconvinced. "…That's it?"
"Is there something else to say?" he asked with an inquisitive eyebrow.
"No, no, I just thought...," she trailed off in thought, but then quickly added, "Never mind."
"No, continue. You thought what?" he asked, taking a step closer. "Did you expect me to stand here and fawn over you like an adoring fan? Heap never-ending praise upon you like I used to?"
Her eyes flashed in frustration at his words. She scoffed incredulously, "No. That's not…that's not what I—"
Somewhere in the back of Loki's mind, he knew he was taking this too far, and that his claims were false, but for some reason he just kept talking out of bitterness, he supposed. "Those days are long gone, my dear. As if I would somehow be swayed by your little performance. Did you think that I would see you shed a few fake little tears and then somehow I would just—what? Drop to my knees and beg forgiveness for my actions? Spill my heart out in front of you?"
Now she was just appeared angry. Her jaw was taut and a quick glance down showed her clenched fists at her sides. But her frustration was making her flustered. "No, Loki, that's not…of course I don't…"
Loki rolled his eyes. "You know, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I remember you being a bit more articulate, Aemilia, yet here you stand, stammering like a happened to make—"
She then suddenly threw her hands up in the air and sharply exclaimed, "Loki, I will not let you treat me this way. I swear to Valhalla, if you insult me one more time I will leave and not come back for a very long time. So please, if you want me gone, keep talking!"
That shut him up. An involuntary rush of panic hit him before he could reign it in, and the thought of spending even more time alone made his blood run cold. He may be confused and angry, but…deep down, he knew he needed her. He needed something to save him from himself and his inevitable descent into madness. There certainly wasn't a line of people volunteering to help him, either. Aemilia and Frigga were all he had.
Aemilia kept directly glaring at him, daring him to say something snappy back—she certainly still had that fire he knew so well. His eyes fell to the floor, jaw ticking with tension as he tried to form the right words.
"No, don't…don't leave," he quietly ground out. When he looked up at her again, she seemed surprised, but skeptical. He took a breath. "Please don't leave. What I said was uncalled for; I'm still just trying to…adjust to everything."
Her hazel gaze softened a bit as a burdened exhale left her mouth. "I know you are, but please Loki, be patient with me, and I will be patient with you. This is an impossible situation for us both."
He hadn't heard truer words. With the slightest of nods, he murmured, "I will try my best."
A miniscule smile of relief appeared on her lips in response. "Good. I do really want to help you, Loki." And the smile disappeared as quickly as it came. "Of course, I don't know everything that happened, but Frigga and Thor have caught me up as best they can."
Loki looked at her incredulously. He didn't hold much guilt for his actions, per se (failing at them was a whole other story), but he was surprised how oddly calm she was over it. She had displayed an impressive tolerance to his more…mischievous schemes before, but this was on a whole other level. "If you know what I did, why are you still here, Aemilia?"
She seemed to carefully plan her words before finally replying, "I still hold you responsible for your decisions, but I believe there is more to every story, and I refuse to hold judgement without knowing yours." A subtle wave of anger ignited in her gaze and permeated her speech. "Also, who am I to abandon you when your crimes are no worse than some of the past decisions the All-Father himself has committed? You shouldn't be here, Loki, especially not for life, and I nor Frigga want you to go through this alone. But we can't if you fight us at everything."
His eyes fell from hers and quickly glossed over in a far-away stare, his thoughts taking him away for a moment. He was still just so torn and conflicted over…well, everything. He didn't really know who to trust, if anyone. Damn if he even knew whether he could trust himself at that point. And Aemilia…she was just so complicated in his mind and memory. He didn't know what to do.
Loki hoped what he said next would help provide further clarity.
"I saw the ring, Aemilia."
His eyes dropped for just a moment, confirming that she had it on her even now at the end of a long chain that fell beneath her dress. She looked startled at the sudden subject change and panicked for a moment, but he could see her actively tamper her knee-jerk reaction down. Her voice went quiet as she asked, "How?"
"I saw it hanging from your neck when you took your bows during curtain call. I know that stone more than anyone on Asgard; I could pick it out from a mile away."
Her hand unconsciously went to lightly grip at the chain. "Frigga gave it to me, after…" She trailed before redirecting, "I-I can give it back…if you want."
Even after everything, Loki knew Aemilia very well, and it didn't take much to notice how reluctant she was in saying that. He found that interesting, if the sudden pounding of his heart was any indication.
He shook his head a little. "No, it's fine. It's not as if I can do anything with it in here, and it was meant for you. Keep it."
Her eyes flew up to his, and that tell-tale spark immediately ignited between them once again.
Loki didn't know how long they stood there in silence, but he didn't mind it, because it was the first time their silence hadn't had a trace of awkwardness. For a moment, they felt like how they used to, easy yet exhilarating.
Aemilia was first to break that silence, but it did nothing to break their eye contact. Her voice barely over a whisper, she couldn't contain her question. She had to know. "Why didn't you ask me?"
He knew what she was referring to. How could he not? And he couldn't blame her a bit for her wanting to know, especially considering their current situation. "I…I just…there was never a good time. And I suppose I was unsure of your answer." Shortly after he had found the ring, Thor had been banished and he discovered his true heritage and Odin had fallen asleep and he had the throne suddenly thrusted upon him, and, well…they both knew what happened after that. Not to mention the fact that it had taken Loki a painfully long time to even realize he had fallen in love with her. Marriage was a whole other ordeal that he had wanted to do but had, admittedly, also been terrified of. He never had the chance to garner the courage before everything had fallen apart, and well, it didn't really matter now, did it?
She gave him a little nod, her expression going sad for a moment in remembrance. "Well," she hesitantly began, those stunningly emotive hazel eyes of hers absolutely blazing into his, "for what it's worth, I would have said yes, no matter the timing."
Outwardly, he merely stared back at her, but inwardly was an entirely different story. Loki was truly taken aback by her words and her willingness to be so open with him, now more than ever.
Voice barely above a whisper, he muttered, "I vividly remember seeing you and Fandral together in my chambers, but…that never really happened, did it?"
Her face turned downtrodden, eyebrows pulled together in worry. She took a step closer to where, if she had actually been in the room with him and not a projection, he would be able to feel the heat of her body. Voice steadier than it had been all day, she replied firmly, "I swear to you, Loki. It did not."
"But you are courting now?"
She inhaled. "…We were. For a few months, but we parted ways."
He wasn't particularly happy about that, but in comparison to his horrific memory, he would take it. He also felt there was more depth to the story than she was conveying now, but they would have time for that later.
Loki nodded, his expression furrowing in thought. He had never been too adept at asking for help, after all.
After a moment, he swallowed and said, "I want you to continue visiting with me. Clearly, The Other wreaked havoc on more than just my body, and…I need your help, Aemilia. I can't—I can't do this by myself."
Her entire body relaxed, a palpable sense of relief overcoming her at his outcry for help. A small encouraging smile decorated those lovely lips of hers as she said, "And you won't have to. Your mother and I will be with you. You are not alone, Loki. And you never will be. Not if I have anything to do with it." Her words echoed his mother's from a week prior. Though he still wasn't confident in them, he actually felt a sliver of hope this time.
He ached to grasp her hand in gratitude, but since that was impossible, he gave her his most heartfelt thanks in years.
"But, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise me something." He raised an eyebrow and waited. "I know it might be hard, but I need you to be completely honest with me. I know we weren't exactly on the…best of terms when you fell, and that was solely because of a lack of communication between us, intentional or otherwise." She squared her shoulders in finality. "I won't allow that to happen again. That's my condition. No more lies. No more secrets, and in return, I promise you my open honestly as well."
He really couldn't argue with that. And while the idea of being so open was…disconcerting and entirely out of his nature, he wasn't about to decline. "If it's worth anything to you anymore, I give you my word."
Another smile tugged at her lips with an inspired look in her gaze. "It means everything to me. Just make sure you prove me right."
Song List
For the opera
-The Mad Scene from Lucia di Lammermoor
-The final death scene from La Traviata
-"Gretchen am Spinnrade" by Schubert (check out the translation. So many feels man.)
For Loki and Aemilia (these are consistent inspirational songs for them to me, not just this chapter...especially with the angsty stuff, haha)
-"The Call Within," "An Insuperable Impediment," and "Yes!" from the Jane Eyre (2011) score
-"The Mirror" from The Danish Girl score
And as a honorable mention, since it is my go-to Loki song: "Seven Devils" by Florence and the Machine