A/N: Content warnings: they talk. There is angst. Death, death of a child, mind control, suicide jokes, murder mention. Because Aaravos and Loki both have incredibly painful pasts.

Aaravos and Loki, Loki and Aaravos. *shakes head sadly* I love them so much. My heart hurts every time I read this chapter, especially a specific bit.

7: Honesty is the Best Policy, Especially When Your Best and Only Friend has Just Narrowly Avoided Death

Loki takes a moment to come back to themself, absorbing everything that has happened. Their long hair feels cumbersome and sticks to their neck from the sweat, so they perform a quick shift on it to make it shorter.

Then, they look at Aaravos, finally realizing. "Wait, your voice is back. You can hear me. What happened?"

Aaravos reaches up to rub the back of his neck almost guiltily. "I… the mage needed help, so I told him what spell to do, and instructed him to take a nap first. I cast a spell on him to help him sleep. We have…" How long has it already been? "An hour or so more, probably."

Loki looks down, averting their eyes from Aaravos's guilty face to avoid dealing with all the emotions threatening to rise to the surface. "Then, is now finally a good enough time for you to give me answers? I want… I need to know what is going on."

Aaravos sighs. "...What do you want to know first?"

"I can tell that perhaps you thought, mistakenly, that you were protecting me by withholding information about dark magic from me, but knowledge is power. I do not need you to protect me, Aaravos…" Loki pauses, hesitating to continue, "I can sense there is a specific history you have with it, a special connection. I want to know your story." Loki reaches out to clasp Aaravos's hand in their own. "Please."

It's been so long since anyone wanted to hear Aaravos's side of anything.

He looks down, at Loki's hand in his. "Ziard. He was my apprentice, not my only apprentice but my only human one. He– he was like a son, almost, and dark magic was his idea. And… It… it was a good idea, in theory. Animals die every day, and if every other part of an animal was to get used, the meat and the pelt and bones, why not use even the last scraps of energy as well?"

He knows he's rambling now, but he barely cares. "And then smaller creatures, like grain moths, would die regardless, their deaths could at least be useful. Why not take the magic they possessed, give it to humans, who needed it and lacked it? It was perfect, in theory."

Loki nods in agreement. "I came to the same conclusion, in a way. You need not even use dead creatures, if your antlers are any indication."

Aaravos nods. "Yes, you see, that was one thing we realized after not too long. That since there was power in every fiber of anything connected to an arcanum, even things like shed hair and antlers could have enough power for significant magic. More magic than anyone could have thought!

"But… then it went wrong." He frowns. "We studied for years before even attempting to harness the potential magic. Looking up theories, making our own, trying to discover if anyone had ever attempted what we wanted to do. We were the first. And finally, we tried.

"I… Nothing we had found hinted at what actually happened." Aaravos leans back, looking at Loki. "The nightmares."

Loki shudders, still reeling from the event. They squeeze Aaravos's hand and clutch at the covers to ground themself. They have been through worse, certainly, but even now it feels as if a small part of them was left behind in the dark. "What did you see? Do you remember? I am sure it has been a long time." You do not have to tell me, goes unsaid, more implied by the offer to claim forgetfulness.

Aaravos takes a deep breath, and lets it out shakily. "They left. All of them. My kin, they all, they all left Xadia, and left me al-alone." He realizes he's squeezing Loki's hand probably too tight, and forces his grip to relax. "It, it was a long time ago. It is no longer…" It is no longer important, he wants to say, but that isn't quite true.

He changes the subject. "Mine were not so bad compared to watching Ziard's. He went in prepared, and yet…"

The words stop coming before he can say them. Ziard, whom he promised to protect, shaking and crying from monsters Aaravos could not see, could not help him fight.

Loki is at a loss for words. They wonder for a moment what they looked like to Aaravos in the midst of their nightmares, if they unintentionally forced Aaravos to re-live that pain. Do not be silly. You could not have been more than an inconvenience. Especially to someone Aaravos clearly cared about so dearly. You could never hold the same place in his heart.

"I am sorry," Loki murmurs.

"And yet," Aaravos continues, eyes unfocusing, "that was still not the worst of the magic's effects. Ziard recovered, after all, with a new understanding of dark magic. And he was able to protect his city for years. He was a hero. And heroes are loved, and sometimes they marry, and have children. And then sometimes, the children want to follow in their parents' footsteps.

"Ziard's oldest daughter wanted to become a dark mage just like her father, protect Elarion when he grew too old. She wanted to fight by his side. But dark magic takes a toll on the body and mind, and Ziard refused. Cassandra came to me, then, asked me to teach her, but I would not.

Aaravos shakes his head. "She was brave, and stubborn, and she would not accept that there were other ways she could help. She had to be a mage. And if no one would teach her, she had to teach herself."

Loki gulps. "I fear that it went about as well as it did for me."

Aaravos's eyes glitter with tears for the girl he once thought of as a granddaughter. "No. You recovered. Cassandra–" His voice catches. "Cassandra tried a spell beyond her capabilities. Not a simple spell like I'd given Ziard, or the one you attempted. She, I do not remember exactly what spell it was she tried, but by the time we found her…"

He gulps. "By the time we found her, she was half gone already." He grits his teeth and almost spits the next words. "She died."

Like I thought you would.

Loki nods in understanding. "And you feel responsible for that. I am no stranger to that guilt either, but you must know you are not to blame." Tears prick at Loki's eyes for seeing their friend in such pain. "You need not continue if you do not wish, I am sorry for pressing the issue. If… if you are comfortable, however, I would like to know what became of your apprentice. Was this… the reason you are here?"

It is not unheard of for an apprentice to turn on their master, especially after such a tragedy, and such a prison could only be constructed by a powerful mage. Aaravos once said dragons were involved, but Loki knows there is more to that story.

Aaravos shakes his head, pressing his free hand against his eyes. "No, no, Ziard never blamed me. Perhaps he should have, but he said I had only done the same as he had. That he was no less at fault than I. No, he died many centuries before my imprisonment."

"Then… why are you here? I have never gotten a clear answer from you, despite the fact that I now share in whatever punishment this is."

Loki is caught between wanting to comfort Aaravos and ask more questions. They have never received such vulnerability or transparency from the elf, and they do not plan to waste it, even as it breaks their heart.

He's already told Loki far more than he ever intended to, but he cannot stop now. It is as if a gate has been opened, and now Aaravos cannot stop talking. "One thousand years ago, the Dragon King Sol Regem destroyed Ziard's city, Elarion, and Ziard blinded him. Sol Regem's successor, Queen Luna Tenebris, ordered humans to be exiled to the western half of the continent for what one of them had done to the king. There was a battle. I tried my best, but I am only one elf. I did what I could for the humans, but I could not then afford to anger the other elven leaders."

He laughs bitterly. "Not that it mattered, in the end.

"It took me almost seven hundred years, but I finally took revenge. On both the queen who had intended to slaughter all the humans for the actions of one, and on the elf who had killed Ziard. And for that, Luna Tenebris's successor, Avizandum, ordered me imprisoned."

"Is that not customary in elf culture?" Loki asks. "I read about the honor code of Moonshadow assassins, that they will bind themselves to avenge unjust deaths."

Aaravos huffs, vaguely amused that he is being compared to a Moonshadow, of all things. "But I am no Moonshadow assassin, I am a Startouch Archmage. And… and Queen Aditi considered Ziard's death justified, as did Avizandum, since not only did he die in battle, he blinded the last king."

"Because the last king destroyed his city! Blinding him is merciful if anything." Loki huffs, fuming with righteous indignation. "And I thought Asgard was ruthless and hypocritical."

"You see?" Aaravos smiles at Loki's blurry face. "Sometimes I wonder who is truly in the right. If there is a right." He blinks and rubs his hand across his face again. "What of Asgard, what did they do to you?"

"Besides what you already know? Nearly killing off my kind, destroying their homeworld, and raising me to believe that such a slaughter was justified by virtue of some sort of 'inherent evil'?" Loki pulls their knees to their chest. "I have done terrible things, Aaravos. I came from a race of monsters, and I was raised by a different kind. I inherited both their vices and I… even if what I have done pales in comparison to their wrongdoings, it does not change what I am. It does not justify my awful mistakes."

Aaravos's eyes sting again, and he tentatively opens his arms, offering another hug. "I do not know what wrongs you claim to have commited, but I do know the Loki who has lived with me for four months. And the worst thing that Loki has done was to unintentionally scare me." He hesitates, then adds softly, "I thought you were going to die."

Loki laughs lightly, less out of humor and more out of a sort of surprise that Aaravos was so scared. The words spill out before they realize the gravity of the statement: "Such magic cannot kill me. I know, I've tried."

That's it, Aaravos isn't waiting anymore. He throws his arms around Loki, pulling them close. "Don't do that," he mumbles. "Don't."

"So I suppose I should not tell you about all the people that promised to kill me and only let me down? Thor practically swore to me that this one mission would likely be suicide, and I was only disappointed. He can't even get me killed properly, the oaf." Loki continues to laugh lightly, still not quite processing the care they are receiving.

A sob tears from Aaravos's throat, and his grip on Loki tightens. "No, no, you cannot die. No. Please."

Oh, this is actually distressing for him… Loki's voice falters as they speak. "I… I apologize… I was only trying to lighten the mood."

"If, if you would like to change the subject," Aaravos offers, forcing his arms to relax, "you need only ask."

Loki nods, leaning into the embrace. "Duly noted."

Loki finds it easier to ask the next question that comes to mind when they do not have to see Aaravos's face. "Are there… in Xadia… your kind of magic… is it possible to take someone's free will away? Are there spells that can take hold of another's mind?"

Depending on Aaravos's answer, Loki may never leave this world.

Aaravos jerks in surprise. "What? No. Stars above, did– did someone truly do that to you?" What magic could possibly do such a thing?"

Loki chokes on a sob. "Please, I am sure I am already so weak in your eyes after what has happened today." Norns dammit, they cannot stop the tears from flowing down their cheeks again. "I know I should have fought harder, I know I- it had been so long. I thought Heimdall would see me, and that someone would come for me, but then no one did, and then I realized that they may have left me to suffer, and… I was- it hurt. I was so, so hungry and, and they would not let me sleep and I could not, I could not fight it anymore."

They feel a fresh wave of tears come over them as they recall the events of the dream, and the fact that their victory over The Other was a product of their imagination. It was cathartic, but it was not real.

Aaravos leans back into the couch, pulling Loki with him and running one hand through their hair to hopefully soothe them. "You are not weak. I remember what it was like, to go through those nightmares, see your worst fears come to life. You are not weak for that, nor for hurting afterwards. You are not weak for what was done to you. And…" He takes a breath, and the words spill out almost of their own accord, "I truly doubt I could have done better, in your situation. I do not know much, but–"

"spells that can take hold of another's mind"

"so long"

"they would not let me sleep"

"they may have left me to suffer"

"I could not fight it anymore"

"-but I know you were hurt, and that cannot be your fault, and you are not weak for hurting, you are not."

"But I did his bidding… I was his puppet… and I- I was aware, I knew what I was doing and- and I delighted in the chaos, but it was not me. The feelings were there, and they were mine, but they did not come from within me. Or- or they were twisted. Every ounce of pain was magnified, but the original rage and fury were there, those were my own weakness." They know they are rambling, but there are no words, no syntax better suited to the pandemonium of those memories. "And if my own brother, that I fought and played with for millenia, saw who I was under a madman's control, and thought that was who I was… what does that say of me? Perhaps I have always been predestined for chaos."

"Perhaps–" Aaravos begins, then stops, the last syllable ringing in his ears. He takes a breath. "Odd."

"What is odd?" the mage demands.

Dammit.

Even Aaravos agrees, Loki reflects solemnly. "I am sorry to burden you with this."

They pull away from the embrace, face burning with shame. "How much longer until your mage awakes, do you think? I had questions about that spell you performed."

No– why is Loki pulling away? Aaravos sits up, careful not to let any sound escape as he mouths "What is wrong?"

Loki's face falls even further as they do not hear Aaravos speak. They attempt to use their illusion magic to write in the air, but it sparks and fizzles before they can get it to work properly. "It can wait until your senses return."

They move to stand, wobbling slightly from the lingering damage of dark magic.

Aaravos reaches for Loki's hand as they stand, wishing he had paper and pen.

"You need to rest," he mouths, attempting to mime it. He points at the couch, giving Loki a stern look. "SLEEP."

Loki scowls and writes "I just woke up! I do not need more sleep."

"That was–" Aaravos looks around for a piece of paper, spotting an old notepad on the floor. A pencil is easier, he has those everywhere now. "That was not true rest. You need rest to recover."

Loki continues to frown. Does Aaravos not believe they can be capable on their own? "I thought you said you did not find me weak." Loki strides - only stumbling once - to the door, throwing another phrase over their shoulder with golden letters, "At least let me get a book before confining me to bed rest."

Aaravos stands quickly, shadowing Loki to the library. He understands the need for a book, but if the dark mage is back already– which he should not be, he should now be about to start the spell– he'll need to get Loki out of the library immediately.

"Even I needed some days of bed rest after my first time using dark magic," he writes, touching Loki's arm to ask them to look. "Taking care of yourself is not weakness."

Loki feels their face flush red, and turns away as soon as they finish reading. This is… strange… to feel someone doting on them. They have not known such care since they were young and their mother still looked after them.

It is not entirely unpleasant, but they cannot completely work out how they feel about it right now. They browse the section on the Earth arcanum, looking for the Moon book on illusion rituals that they moved to mess with Aaravos.

"Do not fret so much, Aaravos. I shall leave the library before your boyfriend comes back."

"I prefer to know someone's name before I decide whether to date them," Aaravos writes after a brief hesitation. Is Loki jealous? Does that mean– no, they said friends. We are friends.

He can hear the mage beginning the spell, bringing shades of the Moonshadow assassins back to wield their weapons.

"You have a few minutes," he adds.

Loki grabs the book they want and rolls their eyes with a wry smile as they turn to face Aaravos. "Fine, fine. Back to my cell then, warden?"

"I would not imprison you further," Aaravos protests before noticing Loki's smile. "Ah. That was a joke." He can feel his ear tips heat. "There is no rush. Yet."

He hears the mage sending the shadow assassins away. It will take him a minute or two to get from whatever tower he is on– the caterpillar can hear wind– back to whatever sunless dungeon the mirror is in. He would not bet on his ability to tell when the mage is getting near, though.

Loki holds the book aloft. "It is fine. I have the book I wanted. If even The Great Aaravos needed rest, I shall heed your expertise."

Aaravos offers a smile. It feels false. "Thank you." He drops the smile and looks at Loki. "Thank you."

Loki thinks they hate the fake smile Aaravos offers even more than his frown. And they definitely do not enjoy seeing how strained Aaravos appears. Loki nods by way of acknowledgement and goes to leave the library.

Aaravos reaches out, stopping just short of touching Loki's hand. "I need to stay here… but I will come as soon as I can."

Loki offers Aaravos one of those fake smiles that Loki themself hates so much. "Of course. I will be on the couch."

Aaravos half smiles, watching Loki leave and wishing he could go with them, just to sit with them and read.

They've barely gone when he turns back to the mirror. But… something is off.

Aaravos uses a well-practiced Star spell almost without thinking, and his eyes widen. Someone is coming, and they do not mean the mage well.

Another quick spell tells him who it is, and he relays this information to the mage, adding, "Do as I say, and all will be well."

If the mage does not trust him enough, he will be captured, Aaravos's caterpillar likely found and killed, and that will be the end of this plan.

Loki makes it appear that they shut the door, but leaves it just a crack open. They shift first into a beetle, crawling in through the crack. Then, they cast an invisibility spell and shift back to their aesir form, cloaked in shadow and undetectable to the eye.

They still could not abandon their curiosity about the mirror and Aaravos's plans. Aaravos's countenance changes, though not in a way that Loki might have expected. No, he seems tense: still a picture of grace, but with something unsettled simmering beneath the carefully crafted surface. Is Aaravos more comfortable with Loki? They have known the mage long enough to know his mannerisms.

This distresses him, and Loki feels a surge of protectiveness well up within them. They want to pull Aaravos away from the human mage. How dare that mortal, or any of the mortals on the other side, make Aaravos put on his mask again?

"Open the door!" Aaravos hears. It's not the mage, but someone else.

"Who are these people?" he asks.

"The Crownguard," the mage answers, tense.

"We'll break it down if we have to!" the other person shouts.

Aaravos closes his eyes, laughing a little at the mage's nervous inhale. Oh, this is going to be a fun exercise. Something to get out some of the pent-up fear from when Loki would not waken. "Well?"

He opens his eyes, and everything looks different. The world glows, and power surges through his veins. This will be fun!

"Open it for them!"

The first thing he tries is Fulminis, drawing the rune nearly as tall as himself and channeling his magic through the mage. He smiles in satisfaction when he hears lightning crackle around the room, and hears the guards thrown back from the force of his magic.

Loki watches with wide eyes as Aaravos grins, then opens his eyes to reveal twin colorful lights. His hands and feet glow blue, and even his hair seems to shine as it dances in the winds centered around Aaravos.

It is perhaps even more beautiful than the first time Loki saw it months ago. Loki cannot keep the smile off their face watching Aaravos in his element, as he is drawing runes with almost impossible speed and sending them to some unknown place. Show them you are a force to be reckoned with, Loki silently cheers.

Only two spells later, it is clear he cannot win this fight. Not from his prison. Not like this.

"Stop. It's over," he tells the mage, releasing his grip on his power.

"No!" the mage protests. "I can win this!"

Not without my power, which I cannot properly use if I cannot even see my opponent.

"STOP."

Finally, the mage gives in, and Aaravos hears metal clinking. Considering the circumstances, he thinks he knows what it is.

"I will stay with you," he tells the mage, instructing his caterpillar to hide– curse it, there are not many places it can hide, the mage's hair is so short. Aaravos grimaces and tries not to think about where his voice is hiding.

Loki blinks in surprise as Aaravos returns to his normal self so quickly. At first, they thought it meant a short crisis, easily dealt with, but his face is stoic, almost disappointed. They recognize the word "stop" on his lips, spoken with force.

Loki shifts again and scurries away before they can be discovered.

Aaravos takes the time while the mage is, presumably, being taken to a cell to do a breathing exercise. This is only a small setback, nothing more. But it has impressed upon him the need for something a little more, if he truly wants to escape.

But he knows what the next step is, and he dreads it.

This time, he needs to tell Loki before he does the spell. He has to. Last time he neglected to tell Loki, they attempted dark magic and could have–

-but is he sure he wants to take the next step? Of course he will have to eventually, to complete the spell, but does he have to now? When Loki is still recovering? Maybe he could wait just a day or two. Not too long; if the mage is imprisoned he won't be able to come to the mirror, and Aaravos needs to be able to see and be seen. But… not yet.

Loki wraps the blanket around their shoulders, settling in with the book they took from the library. Ever since reading about all six primal sources, they felt most drawn to the Moon arcanum. It has a particular draw with how similar it is to their own favored forms of magic.

As they read about one of the rituals, performed at the Moon Henge to connect to another world between life and death, they reflect on their visions from their failed attempt at dark magic. The things they saw were illusions, but they were not without truth. They revealed Loki's fears, manifested before them, and their triumph over their own fears was no illusion, despite the fact that it only occurred within their own mind.

They have always seen their illusions and magic as ways to hide the truth, all flash and misdirection, but that is only half the story, they realize. Just as they change form, change gender, they are still the same Loki, though they appear differently. Perhaps the Moon functions the same way: changing in phases, but still the same satellite around the world.

Whether he waits to do the spell or not, Aaravos knows he needs to tell Loki about it. And he should do that sooner, rather than later. He does not need Loki angry at him again, and trying dark magic again.

That is silly. Loki will most likely not attempt dark magic again, not after the nightmares. But they still might do something foolish out of anger.

Trying to ignore the way his stomach twists, he heads back to the sitting room.

Loki is not ready to attempt anything so grand as the rituals in the book, but if they remember correctly, there is a smaller spell they could attempt.

Hand trembling in excitement, Loki breaths deep and traces the rune in the air. They smile as they see the glowing script appear. "Historia viventum."

The rune dissipates, replaced with a ghostly figure of Aaravos pacing the room. Loki had not focused on a specific time, too excited to try out their new ability. They are not sure when this was.

The spectre of Aaravos trembles as he paces, reaching up to pull at his hair. Loki frowns, sensing his distress growing. Then, whatever was keeping the elf composed shatters, and he breaks down. Loki can hear nothing, only see, but it is clear that Aaravos is screaming. He flips the table, the couch, then sends some sort of spell at the walls. The shelves shake, the contents knock over and shatter on the floor. Aaravos approaches the window, beating upon it with his fists and sending spell after spell on it, everything he can give ricocheting to cause more damage to everything else. The window remains without a single scratch.

The vision of Aaravos seems to lose his strength and crumbles, sobbing into his hands. Loki, finally unfrozen from their shock, figures out how to banish the vision.

They still do not know when that was, but it was clearly sometime in the centuries before Loki's arrival. Really, they would have been more surprised if Aaravos had not had such a breakdown at some point. Isolation is a surefire way to destroy a person's spirit and drive them to insanity.

Loki is going to kill Avizandum. No, first, they are going to rip off the dragon's wings and claws, and then kill the cruel beast.

Aaravos enters the room to see Loki sitting up with a book, glaring murderously at the wall.

He coughs, testing out his voice. It is not working on this side of the mirror, so he finds his notepad and pencil and writes, "And what did my wall do to you to make you so angry?"

He is not sure whether to be amused or nervous.

Loki does not think; they leap up to hug Aaravos. They hold him tight for a moment before pulling away to respond with a serious look. "First, I have decided that I am going to kill Avizandum in the most painful way I can find. Second… perhaps I should show you."

They take another step back to draw the rune, this time being sure to focus on a specific moment in time. "Historia Viventum."

This time, instead of the lone figure of Aaravos, a ghostly image of Loki is alongside him. The two of them share the couch, Aaravos reclined and casually telling some story that they cannot hear now, but Loki remembers it all the same. It is strange to look at themself from the outside, eyes glued on Aaravos with wonder as he recounts an old Startouch ritual that involved a beautiful mix of dance and magic.

The current Loki looks to their current Aaravos expectantly, nearly bursting with glee at their demonstration of a new skill.

Aaravos's eyes are fixed on the ghostly Loki and Aaravos on the couch, mouth slightly opened in surprise.

He turns to Loki and, forgetting that he cannot speak to them, begins "You've–" He shuts his mouth quickly.

"I've what?" the human mage asks.

"You should sleep," Aaravos says smoothly. "You'll need it soon."

Remembering where his pencil is (in his hand), he writes, "Did– How did you do this? Did you find a moon opal, or–" In theory, Loki might be able to connect to an arcanum they were not born to; Aaravos himself did it five times, but so soon after using dark magic? And Loki is not of Xadia, would that give them a smaller or larger chance of connection like this?

Hardly believing his own words, he asks, "Did you… did you truly connect to the Moon?"

"How do you think I did this?" Loki writes, "Yes, I connected to the Moon. I think I have always been nearly connected, but I needed that last element of clarity. The content of those nightmares provided it."

Loki takes no small amount of gratification in Aaravos's expression of amazement. They preen a little at having surprised him.

Aaravos chokes back his delighted laugh, taking Loki's hands and spinning them around. He has to stop to write, "That is wonderful news indeed! Oh, when I have my voice again I will start teaching you right away!"

Loki nods, grinning from ear to ear. "Only if you allow me to teach you my Asgardian seidr. If nothing else, you should understand the theory when we take a trip to my universe, though I believe you can learn it."

They would have loved to introduce Aaravos to Frigga, though just the mental image of bringing a second chaos-loving mage to Asgard makes them smile. The Allfather's head would surely explode.

"I would never turn down the chance to learn a new magic," Aaravos writes.

He likes Loki's smile, and he is surprised at just how much he likes it. He cannot help his own smile, nor does he want to.

And then he recalls the other thing Loki said when he came in, and it turns out his smile can grow bigger. "Not that I am complaining, of course, but why do you wish to kill Avizandum? He has done nothing to you."

Loki scowls at the mention of that name. "Not directly, no, but he has hurt you, and that is as good as a crime against me in my book."

Aaravos turns away as his eyes fill. That… why does that sound so sweet? Once he… well. No. He would always have thought something like that was ro– kind. But why does hearing, or, well, seeing the words from Loki hit so hard?

He scribbles, "Thank you," tears the paper out, and passes it to Loki.

A thought occurs to him, and he adds, "But Avizandum is likely already dead, considering that a human is in possession of my mirror. The Dragon King would not have given me up easily, especially not to a dark mage." He tears this page out as well, passing it to Loki before blinking several times and turning back around.

Loki is not sure why they are disappointed to read that. It makes sense, and they should be happy that Aaravos's tormentor is likely dead now, regardless of who dealt the killing blow… but they wanted to do this for Aaravos. There is not much they can do trapped with him, but they feel a need to repay him.

Repay him for caring for them? For sharing his home/prison? No… not that, and Aaravos did not really have much say in the latter. Loki is not sure what other word there is for this, they just have to repay Aaravos for something, because they can only deduce that Aaravos has given them something good, even if they cannot express what that thing is.

"That is good, I suppose… provided he is dead," Loki writes back. "If somehow, he survived, you can be sure that I shall rectify that."

Aaravos smiles at Loki. "Thank–" His throat feels funny.

"Hello," he tries, grinning when he hears his own voice, on this side of the mirror and not ringing in his ears.

He turns the grin on Loki. "Thank you. That is…" He is not sure of the right words to express his gratitude, so he settles on "most kind of you."

Not many are willing to kill for him, certainly not as many as he would have killed for.

Loki chuckles, partly out of the sheer joy at hearing Aaravos's voice return, and partly at the specific words Aaravos says. "I am not sure 'kind' is the proper word for it, considering I am promising a murder."

They arch an eyebrow as they remind Aaravos, "Now, I believe you promised a magic lesson once your voice returned?"

Anyone want to guess what comes next?