She'd come unannounced.
As she always did.
She'd even startled him a little.
Loki was reclined on his bed with yet another book in hand when she appeared in the corner of the cell. He hadn't expected her to visit that night with the ball that was being held. With the tension between them. She was supposed to be off enjoying her evening - mingling, making new friends... maybe even dancing. He could see out of his peripheral vision that she wore a gown of brilliant gold and the softest pink. Her hair fell gently around her shoulders, in that infuriatingly beautiful Midgardian style that she refused to forsake. Just this - the presence of her was enough to make his chest tighten. He longed to let himself admire her, but before he had the chance, the words she spoke caused him to freeze.
"I know why they were teaching me about Frost Giants."
There was a tremor of emotion in her voice that he couldn't quite read.
So, this was it. The end. Anguish roiled through him but he suppressed any physical reaction and kept his shields firmly in place. This would be unsavoury enough without her knowing how the weight of those words impacted him.
He sat up slowly, still staring at his book. He sorely wanted to look at her, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.
"And?" he asked, hoping he sounded indifferent.
"And I'm furious," she said, her voice quivering once again.
Loki almost winced then. Almost.
"They had no right to say any of what they said to me tonight."
His brow furrowed involuntarily. He hadn't expected that. He continued to stare down at the page open before him as if pretending to read but he was painfully aware that she knew it was an act. His whole body tensed as she moved towards him slowly. He stopped breathing when she sat down on his mattress, not in her normal spot by the foot of the bed but closer - so much closer - so that her hip almost met his and she was facing him. And when she reached out her hand and rested it on his wrist as if to capture his attention - as if she didn't already have all of it - every last nerve ending in his body came to life, thrumming with energy.
She had never done that before. Never reached for him like that.
"Loki," her voice was so painfully gentle, so full of tenderness, and he couldn't quite reconcile that that tenderness could be for him. "Loki... it's okay."
She could feel it, he realised. His stomach plummeted. Even with his barriers in place, this was too big. She could sense it. His shame. His self-loathing. His... fear.
He kept his expression neutral - guarded - as he finally drew his gaze up to meet hers.
And when he found kindness there, he could barely stomach it. Was she to break him gently, then?
"Fandral shouldn't have told me," Reagan murmured. "It wasn't his place to do that. And... I know that you didn't want me to know. But, Loki, I need you to believe me when I tell you, it doesn't change anything. I didn't even know what a Frost Giant was a week ago, how could it possibly matter to me?"
Loki swallowed thickly. He couldn't bear to look into her eyes for even a moment more. And when he dropped her gaze his eyes fell to her hand, still holding gently onto his wrist, to her bare forearm, to the mark, which he hadn't witnessed on her skin with his own eyes since that first day in the elevator.
"I understand," Reagan assured him softly, comfortingly. "I understand why you didn't want to tell me."
Loki shut his eyes for just a moment before he finally found his voice.
"Because they're monsters," Loki murmured, there was a foreign sort of strain to his voice. He cursed the vulnerability in him. He cursed the fact he wasn't bold enough to say 'we'. To own the thing that he was.
"No," she corrected gently, giving his wrist a comforting squeeze. "That's not true. It can't be true."
"You know nothing of them," he reminded her, bitterness tinging the words.
"Maybe not... but I know you," she said with a whisper of a smile. "And if that's what you are, Loki, then it can't be true."
Loki's brow furrowed in a pained expression as he glanced up at her again, and found that pain mirrored on her features as she studied him.
"Whatever it is that your people believe, you're living proof that they've got it wrong. You're not a monster, Loki. And I'm so sorry that you ever had to think that you were. It's not right. You deserve so much better than the things that have happened to you."
Loki's lips quirked just a little. "You almost sound like you mean that."
"I do mean it," Reagan whispered.
A strange battle was beginning to rage within him - a mix of wishing that she were a million lightyears away so that she couldn't see this weakness in him but also feelings he was growing all too familiar with; the craving of her, savouring her being there.
His gaze trailed back to her forearm once more. The iridescent cuff there, the way it shimmered in the light with even a fraction of movement. She'd covered it so resolutely ever since the beginning, she'd hated the sight of it, he'd felt it, her disdain for the thing branded on her body against her will. Revulsion. He'd felt it. So potent that he could barely stomach the sight of his own mark.
But she sat there, with her hand on his, the mark on display, telling him there was nothing wrong with the thing that he was... sounding as though she truly believed those words.
Reagan's voice stirred him from his thoughts.
"When I realised what they were doing - and what I'd said to you the other day, just regurgitating what they'd told me before I knew why ... I'm just- I'm mortified," she told him, earnestly. "I'm so sorry I did that, Loki. I'm sorry I fell for it."
Loki shook his head a little.
"Please... don't ever apologise to me."
"But I need you to know that I never would have said-"
"Reagan..." he said, gently cutting her off.
Slowly - tentatively - he turned his hand over beneath hers, lacing their fingers together. She didn't pull away.
She didn't pull away.
Reagan's gaze fell to their intertwined hands before shifting to his face again.
"Please, don't apologise," he murmured once more.
Reagan studied him for a moment before she nodded in acceptance.
"Okay," she relented softly and attempted to push away the guilt that filled her so that she could focus on him instead.
Loki ghosted his thumb gently over the dips and ridges of her knuckles.
"Have you ever talked to anyone about it?" she asked.
He laughed a little at the very idea.
"No... not really. My Father fell into the Odinsleep before I was ever offered any real answers. And mother... well, she has always done her best to compensate for the ways that he fell short but... She's also always had excuses for him."
Frigga's voice echoed down the bond.
Your father always has his reasons.
Reagan nodded, swallowing against the emotion forming in her throat.
"You can talk to me about it, you know," she told him. "You can talk to me... I'll listen."
Loki had spent his past few days trying to envision how this might go - her finding out the truth of him. He'd imagined her reacting in anger, in disgust. He'd imagined her calling him a monster, tried to picture what that word might sound like being spat at him hatefully from her lips. He'd even imagined that he might just never see her again, that she might not even want to confront him and instead just distance herself as far as she possibly could behind shields he'd helped her build.
He hadn't expected her kindness. And now that she offered it, he felt a fool. Of course, she was being kind. His lovely, little mortal. The girl made of fire. Who never ever did anything he expected her to.
And it was only in that moment that it finally struck him how desperately he wanted someone - anyone - to listen. To give him the chance to put his pain and confusion and... betrayal into words.
No, not just anyone, he realised.
Her.
He'd wanted to once before. On the night that she'd told him of her own father. When she'd poured out her heart so easily to him. That moment of vulnerability. Something he'd always seen as such a weakness - a flaw - it hadn't seemed like one then. And how he'd envied her for it.
After centuries of doing the opposite - hiding it all away - it just seemed such an impossible feat. He hardly knew how to put voice to even that.
"I'd hardly know..." Loki tried. "I wouldn't know what to... how to..."
He felt her brush tenderly against the bond. But as he looked up at her, even without it, he could read the compassion in her eyes - compassion for him - and his heart clenched.
She understood.
"How did you find out?" Reagan asked, gently.
Loki swallowed, battling down the emotions swelling in his throat. It was more than anyone else had even attempted to do for him - to help him find a starting place.
And so Loki told her, of their journey to Jotenheim so that Thor could exact his revenge. He told her the truth that it had been his doing, coaxing the creatures into Asgard to upheave his brother's ascension to the Throne. He told her of the monster that touched him and froze his flesh and instead of terrible, frostbitten damage, he'd watched as his skin betrayed him and turned that monstrous shade of blue.
And all the while she held his hand. She didn't interrupt. She didn't try to correct him when he used terms like 'monster' or 'creature' or 'thing'. There was no judgement. She just listened, let him speak - let him feel. Her hand was an anchor, and as he spoke, Loki stared down at it, laced with his. He ran his finger gently along her pulse point. Memorised the shape of the small scar by her index finger.
He told her of Thor's disdain for the creatures - how he'd wanted them dead.
He told her of Odin finding him in the weapons vault, then falling into the Odinsleep. Only learning enough to know that his father had kept the secret from him to protect him from the truth, because he too, believed them monsters.
He told her of trying to destroy Jotenheim - to erase its very existence - because maybe if he could then it would mean...
Her hand suddenly pulled free from his and Loki froze for a moment, realising what he had just admitted to. Dread swelled in his chest, certain that this was to be the moment when he finally faced her disgust. He braced himself for it. But then he watched as she wiped tears away from her face, and breathed in a deep, steadying breath. He hadn't realised she was crying.
Loki became aware then that in allowing himself to open up to her and showing her that secret, ugly part of him, he'd unconsciously lowered the protection around his mind and let her in. She hadn't just heard his words, she'd felt them, seen what happened. He'd shown her how raw the pain still was. How consuming.
And she'd accepted it - welcomed it. She'd felt it all, helped him to carry it. And as she had, it had brought her to tears. Tears for him.
"I'm sorry," Reagan said. "Loki, I'm so sorry."
Loki leaned in towards her and reached to wipe a freshly fallen tear from her face.
"Please, don't cry..." he begged gently. "I hadn't realised... I didn't mean to let you-"
Reagan shook her head, stopping him.
"I'm glad you did."
They stared at each other and without really realising he was doing it, Loki reached up and tucked her hair gently behind her ear. He didn't like seeing her cry, even if they were tears of compassion. He wanted her light again. He wanted her smile.
"I'd like you to know that contrary to past efforts, it wasn't my intention to make you so miserable," Loki teased gently.
"Oh, these are happy tears," Reagan corrected, detecting his tone. "They're because I just realised this is the longest we've ever gone without you making fun of me for something."
Loki smirked.
"Well, what a clever ploy to get me talking about myself just to set a new record."
"I knew it would work," she said with a small smile, even as she sniffed. "It is your favourite subject, after all."
Loki laughed, gazing at her affectionately, drinking her in.
By the stars, she was a vision in that dress...
Loki's stomach dropped a little. It occurred to him then that she was sitting alone in her chambers just to talk to him, he'd been greedy with her time, and she was missing out on the evening's events. Somewhat reluctantly, though not wanting to spoil her entire night, he decided to remind her.
"You know, you needn't waste your evening here," he said at last. "The night is still young. You should go back and enjoy the festivities."
Reagan shook her head.
"I'm right where I want to be," she told him before a slight grimace pulled at her face. "Besides, I don't think that would go down so well... I kind of made a little bit of a scene on my way out."
Loki's eyebrows quirked.
"Oh? Do tell."
Reagan ducked her head a little, looking slightly embarrassed, as she sent the memory down the link for Loki to inspect. She didn't show him everything - spared him the ugliness of the things they said about him. But he witnessed the parts that mattered.
Your king... is an asshole.
Her attempt to sidestep Fandral but him blocking her way only to find his facial hair singed clean off.
The pure look of shock on his newly bald face.
A satisfied smirk spread across Loki's features as he studied the memory, one that Reagan couldn't help but to mirror even though she had the good grace to still look slightly guilty and soon they were snickering quietly together like a pair of naughty school children.
"So," Loki said. "Your first ball wasn't the success you'd hoped it would be."
"You can say that again. I didn't even get to dance," Reagan smiled, her expression softening. "Unless of course... Your offer from earlier still stands?"
Loki smiled at her gently.
"Well, it would be a great shame to waste that dress."
"You like it?" Reagan asked, glancing down at herself, playing with the tulle between her fingertips.
"Yes. You're lovely."
She looked up suddenly to meet his eye. Her instinct was to think he was making fun of her but there was something in his voice that just sounded so sincere. She blushed and returned her focus to the fabric of her skirts.
Loki stood then and rounded to face her, his posture straightening into something proud and regal. Reagan smiled up at him, watching as he bowed and offered her his hand. She took it, allowing him to guide her to her feet. Loki led her slowly to the centre of the room, his attention focused on her all the while. When he drew his arm around her waist, she placed her hand on his shoulder and drew closer to him and he had to will his heart to steady, certain she'd be able to hear it at this proximity. And even still, there was something so... tranquil about having her so close. As though it was where she was supposed to be.
She smiled brightly as he began to guide her through the dance.
And just because he wanted to show off a little, and to pretend for a moment he wasn't locked away in a dungeon - away from her - Loki conjured his magic and cast an illusion of a dazzling ballroom all around them. The cell walls that were now his constant companions faded away beneath his magic. Stark white floors melted into midnight blue marble, and intricately carved pillars stretched up towards the heavens, disappearing into an illusion of a starry night sky. A calm blue light settled over everything, illuminated by the brilliant glow of floating pillar candles. And above them, a brilliant chandelier made of countless crystals glimmered like stars, casting fragments of light onto the floor below.
Loki watched as Reagan gazed around in wonder, a small smile playing on his lips as she took in all the details of the magic.
"Whoa..." she breathed, drinking it in. "You've been holding out on me, Mischief."
And as soft, lilting music began to play and a song began to be sung in an Asgardian tongue she looked back at him, a small smile dancing on her lips.
"Nice touch," she admitted.
Reagan drew in a little closer as Loki guided her through the steps. She laughed as she followed his lead, watching their feet. Loki instructed her as he always did whenever he showed her something new - patient and attentive. But this was also something... gentler, more intimate. Slowly, as her movements grew more fluid and she followed along with him more smoothly, she seemed to grow more confident.
"Like this?" she asked.
"Much better," Loki replied. "But you should be looking up rather than at the floor."
"I'm worried I'll step on your feet," Reagan laughed.
"I'm sure I can handle it."
"Well, what if you step on mine?"
"I suppose you'll just have to rid me of my eyebrows as well."
Reagan grimaced.
"I probably shouldn't have done that..." Reagan muttered. "I'll probably wake up tomorrow regretting it. That tends to be the trend with a lot of my impulse decisions."
"Really? I actually wouldn't have guessed that about you given the way you have continued to scribble little drawings all over yourself in permanent ink."
She looked up at him in surprise.
"You don't like my tattoos?" she asked, sounding a little disappointed.
Loki softened, and instead of another joke, he couldn't help but to answer her sincerely.
"Reagan, I like everything about you," he told her in little more than a whisper and watched as her cheeks began to colour under his gaze. "But no, I don't like them."
Laughter burst from her and she allowed her head to fall against his shoulder as she giggled delightedly, happy that he was playing with her again.
"But I am sorry that you've missed the ball as a result," Loki told her.
Reagan just shrugged a little.
"I wasn't having much fun anyway," she admitted as she lifted her head to look at him again. "Truth is I've had more fun with you in this prison cell than I have with anyone else, anywhere in Asgard."
Loki's chest filled with warmth.
"Truth be told, so have I. And that includes anything that came before you ever set foot in Asgard."
Something shifted in her then. Loki felt it, but couldn't quite read it. He tilted his head, almost in question as he studied her. When she looked up at him again there was emotion swimming in her eyes. Her movements slowed and Loki followed her lead, their dance coming to a gentle sway as they held one another.
"Loki... if I ask you something will you answer me honestly?"
She was staring at him, studying him. She stood so close to him that their noses were almost brushing together. Close enough that at any moment he could lean in and taste her. Gods, he wanted to taste her. He reminded himself, as he had countless times, how far away she truly was, up there somewhere in the city high above him. He cursed every millimetre of distance between them.
"Ask me anything, I'll tell you the truth," he promised her.
They swayed in silence for a few moments more before she finally spoke.
"Why haven't you told anyone what Thanos did to you?"
Loki's heart gave a horrible jolt then and he drew back ever so slightly to study her. The pained expression she wore as she watched him, somewhat cautious, as if afraid the question might inspire his anger. He could hardly blame her for that. He swallowed and dropped her gaze. Whatever he'd expected her question to be, it hadn't been that. He breathed out a sigh. She shouldn't have even known that name.
The urge rose in Loki to flee but he felt her hand squeeze his, just a little, reassuringly, and so he didn't move to pull away from her.
"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know, exactly," Reagan answered honestly. "I've suspected for a while but it wasn't until the other day when you frightened me, and you opened the link to show me that I was safe that I got the last few pieces of the puzzle to make it all make sense. That was when I learned his name. Who he was. What he wanted with you. At first, I thought your nightmares were just... nightmares. But the more I saw of them, the more I felt... Loki, you were so afraid. You were in so much pain. I didn't know what they meant, or why they'd happened. And I knew that if I asked you, you wouldn't tell me. But I started piecing things together. And the more I got to know you, the less it made sense - the things you did on Earth."
Loki cast his gaze down, ashamed.
"But then that night that we weren't talking, and you were finally so exhausted that you fell asleep and dropped your shields and I saw your nightmares again. I saw the things he did to you. I felt them-"
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Reagan shook her head.
"I watched over you that night, and I told myself that it was because I didn't want to see them again. But I knew. Deep down I knew they were real. And I knew they were recent. New York-recent. I didn't know who he was. I didn't know how to ask. Not just you, but anyone. With the way everyone spoke about you, I knew they didn't know. Not even Thor. And it felt like a betrayal to tell anyone, even though I didn't really understand why... and so the truth of it is - the real reason I came and apologised to you that day - is because I wanted to help you. I wanted to try with you."
Loki's heart clenched then, he'd always thought there was more to it. Always wondered what the real change in her had been that day. She'd been so different with him after that. So much warmer. It had never made sense.
"I already liked you way more than I was willing to admit - you know when you weren't trying to be a complete ass. And I was just- I was so confused by you. By how fun and calm you could be when you weren't putting up this front. How different you were to on Earth. And then I realised something - that in New York, after what the Hulk did to you-"
Loki glanced away, the very memory of it bruising his ego.
"You were different afterwards," Reagan said, adamantly. "You were like you are now. You were making jokes and making fun of Cap, and you were lighter and... It was like you were clear. Just how Clint had been when Nat hit him over the head."
Another sting. He hated thinking about what he'd done to Barton, now that he knew what he'd meant to her. If Barton could see her now, in his arms, dancing like they were-
A gentle hand caressed his jaw, shaking him from the train of thought, and guided his face back towards hers. His eyes met hers.
"And your eyes are green," she whispered.
His brow furrowed as he watched her.
"But they weren't. I know they were blue back then," Reagan stared up at him, something in her expression that he didn't quite understand. "I've been waiting for you to tell me, but I just- I can't stand it anymore. He tortured you. He broke you. He controlled you... Why haven't you told anyone what he did to you?"
Loki closed his eyes and breathed out a low sigh.
"Because it doesn't matter," he told her at last.
"Of course, it matters."
"No, Reagan, it doesn't." Loki hesitated, unsure of how to put it into words. To make her understand. "It wasn't like what I did to Barton. He... he had no choice. I knew exactly what I was doing - I wanted to do it - the sceptre just... Amplified that want. Please, don't trick yourself into thinking I was innocent. I just..."
I don't want you to see me as something I'm not.
"I don't. I just... I need you to know that I know there's so much more to it. I hate how much pain you've been in. I hate that you've had to do it alone. But the thing is you don't have to anymore, Loki," she told him. "Let me help you."
Loki nodded slowly, his gaze cast downward. He didn't speak. Couldn't. So overwhelmed with emotions that he always fought so hard to suppress. She felt it. He knew she did.
"It matters," she promised. "And it doesn't have to be today, okay? I'll be here whenever you're ready. Just know that it matters."
"Thank you," Loki murmured.
"And maybe, in time, you'd feel ready to explain to your father-"
"My father wouldn't care."
"Of course, he would."
Loki's jaw clenched, perhaps it was how raw he found himself from opening up to her about his true parentage, perhaps it was the strain of having held his shields in place so determinedly for so long, or knowing that someone finally knew what had happened to him. Whatever the reason, Loki couldn't quite stave off the memory that forced itself into his mind. A memory he tried so desperately never to think about. The proof that she was wrong.
But Reagan felt the whisper of it.
"Show me," Reagan murmured
Loki closed his eyes and loosed a breath as he relented. He let her in and showed her that final piece, the thing that left him empty. That day on the edge of the Bifrost, when he had tried to destroy Jotenheim, to make the Frost Giants disappear. When Thor had returned home to stop him and had destroyed the bridge, the force of it had thrown the brothers over the edge of Asgard. But then Odin had caught Thor by the ankle. And Thor had caught Loki's spear, stopping him from falling.
Loki had been in so much pain and his father had fallen into the Odinsleep and left him to deal with the pieces of... himself that no longer made sense to him.
And then he woke up for Thor.
He woke up for Thor.
But his other son. His lesser son. The monster from Jotenheim.
"No, Loki."
And so Loki had let go and his would-be father had watched as he plummeted into an abyss.
And when he was, at last, found again. That same man had locked him away in a cage so that he could be forgotten.
Loki felt a sudden surge of rage from Reagan on his behalf - it roiled off her like a tidal wave, visceral, almost as if it were laced with her flames. Loki startled slightly, he hadn't anticipated that she would react so strongly.
"Reagan, it's alright," he assured her.
"No, it's not," she answered firmly. "He should have known. He should have been there for you. I mean, Loki, I would have said anything to get you back on that bridge-"
Reagan caught herself, cutting herself off. She huffed out a small laugh, slightly embarrassed as she ducked her head a little.
Loki's fingers ghosted under her chin, guiding her eyes gently back to his.
"Look at me," he whispered. "Look at me..."
He knew his gaze on her was intense. He saw the way she blushed under it, but he couldn't stop himself from drinking her in. And though she'd grown a little timid, she made no move to pull away.
"Let's not speak of him anymore," he murmured.
She nodded in agreement, and hesitated for just a second, searching for a way to fill the silence.
"This song is beautiful," Reagan all but whispered, staring up at him. "What is she saying?"
"She's telling the tale of Faal and Morgarth. The first lovers of Asgard," Loki told her with a soft smile. "Before Asgardians learned that they were gods, they worshipped the moon. They made offerings to her, knelt before her, swear their lives to her. But Morgarth, he worshipped only Faal. A priestess of the night was jealous of how deeply he loved her. She believed that such devotion belonged to the moon and the moon alone. So she placed a curse upon Faal. As soon as the sun set that day she would breathe her last breath. When Morgarth learned of this, he took to the sky and he held up the sun so that the curse couldn't take her. His hands charred black but he endured the pain for her. Until the witch's crops withered and the water dried up, and worst of all he parted her from her precious moon until she at last relented and lifted the curse so that the two could be together."
"Well... that's all rather dramatic isn't it?" Reagan murmured in a tone far gentler than her words might suggest.
Loki smiled.
"My thoughts exactly."
"Do all Asgardian songs tell stories like that?"
"Many do. Many of love, but more about conquest and honour and our bravest warriors - those who have fallen throughout the ages. A great many were written to Thor when he first wielded that infernal hammer of his."
"Are there any songs about you?"
"I'm mentioned in a few of Thor's but, no. None about me, personally. And certainly no love songs." Loki laughed a little."I'm not exactly the sort of person someone might write those about."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Reagan murmured back as she gazed up at him.
Loki stilled as he met her eye, his lips parting slightly.
She stared up at him openly, drinking in his features.
She was caught up in the moment, Loki told himself. The music, the slow dancing, the intimacy of learning the truths of him. It was just a fleeting moment, nothing more.
But still, he could feel the bond, the tenderness that had been ebbing from her all evening.
And then her gaze flickered fleetingly to his mouth.
Loki leaned in closer to her. All evening, with every inch that closed between them, he had decided that was his new favourite place in the universe. He gazed into her eyes. The bond between them was alive with energy and emotion and need.
"Loki..." Reagan whispered. "I think I-"
A sudden thundering, knock sounded at the door of Reagan's chambers, sending a jolt of surprise through her.
Just like that, the spell was broken and Reagan found herself strangely caught between two worlds - both in Loki's arms, dancing in a world made of magic, and alone in her empty chambers, with some certain inconvenience waiting on the other side of her door.
Reagan looked up at Loki, regretfully. The arm around her waist tightened ever so slightly, almost as if it were against his own will.
"Stay," he murmured. "Please, stay..."
The boom sounded at the door again.
She just had to get rid of them. She'd make it fast. Tell whoever it was to leave and be done with it. Still, it took everything in her to pull away.
"I'll be right back," she promised, her hand lingering in his for just a little too long.
Slowly - painfully so - her projection faded and she found herself alone in her chambers once more. It felt empty - ugly.
She turned towards the door, fighting against the frustration building up in her.
It was likely Fandral, coming to have it out with her over the attack in the ballroom. She was more than happy to inform him that he'd have to wait.
But then Reagan swung the door open to find herself standing face to face with the last person she ever expected to see standing in her doorway that evening.
"I believe it's high time that you and I had a conversation," the Allfather said.
*Ducks and hides*
PLEASE don't hate me! I had to. Thanos made me do it?
