I'm so sorry that it has been so long. I'm going to try and write as much as I can for this story. Please stay tuned, it's going to get good. In time. :) Patience. ~Abigail.
Swords clashed in a deafening ring throughout the courtyard.
"Nice!" Loki cheered, a goofy grin on his face. "You've become quite splendid at this my dear."
I swing my sword around once again, and he almost doesn't block it. That knocks off the smile, and allows for one to turn up the corners of my mouth. "Thanks sweetie." I coo sarcastically.
In my time in Asgard, Loki had instructed me of a few activities I was to take on—sword fighting being at the top. As a queen I must be powerful, and gentle. Firm but kind. A warrior and a lover. Loki's eyes always glazed when he defined the role I was to fill, and I knew he was thinking of his mother. All I could do was wrap my arms around him to show that I understood.
Life with him wasn't all I had expected. Loki had allowed me to be close to him, but not too close. I had my own bedroom with all the necessities of royalty: a wardrobe filled with fine clothing, a four poster bed complete with a canopy, and a lovely tiara awaiting to be placed on my curls.
I was fine with being separate, for now. However, distance is not what I expected out of our marriage. Our relationship had moved so quickly that we both understood that we needed to slow down little. I have been in Asgard for eight weeks, and we aren't officially getting married for another few months. However, we do intend to elope next week with just our families there. Our love has never been conventional. After all he is a god, and I was the daughter of a superhero. Normal isn't in our vocabulary.
Since I came here, he and I have had a lot of time alone; I have been able to the parts of him no one could ever see unless he showed them. They are terrifying, and I love him all the more for them. He has nightmares. On multiple occasions I have awoken in the middle of the night to his screams. Running to his room, and holding him as he cries is the only relief I can give him. It breaks my heart. Such a tormented, broken soul. No one understands how much he still beats himself up over the evil that came from his hands. I have done my best to convince him that the past is the past. It doesn't work.
The salvation my fiance seeks can only be rewarded to him by one person. Someone I don't know will ever grant it.
Himself.