Song of the Chapter: Love the Way You Lie (Part 2/feat. Eminem) ~ Rihanna

"I know of no more disagreeable situation than to be left feeling generally angry without anybody in particular to be angry at."

–Frank Moore Colby

Loki stiffened as he recognized the feeling of another presence in his empty prison cell. He felt frozen, thinking that it was The Other coming to punish him for his failure, to take him away to Thanos. But then he recognized the presence as the one person he had ever let inside his head. The one person he never thought he would see again.

"Freyja?" he whispered into the seemingly empty air.

The air before him shimmered as she appeared, her projection wearing a simple midnight blue silk dress. He took a few minutes to take in her appearance. She looked different from when she had left, and it was more than her age. She had faint worry lines etched into her forehead, her strange electric blue eyes no longer shone with the same brightness, and her face was distinctly thinner. She looked weary and haunted as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But he could feel her emotions as they flowed out to him, as they did since she had awakened him.

Her emotions hit him like a tidal wave. They overlapped and crashed into each other, conflicting and tumultuous as an ocean storm, to make a mess of sensations that threatened to overwhelm his mind. He fought to push them to the edges of his consciousness where they wouldn't bother him. Her turmoil was surprising, as she had always been so level-headed before, and left him dazed and disorientated.

"Freyja? I thought-" he stopped, remembering the story of Vanir who had broken vows. "You're a spirit? What promise could you have possibly broken to deserve this fate?"

She shook her head, her crimson hair dancing like flames, "I'm not a spirit, Loki."

"But -" he broke off, eyes widening as he realized what she was saying. "You're alive."

He stood up, part of him wanting to hold her as he had done so long ago. And yet another was holding him back. A little nagging voice at the back of his mind brought forward several questions, important questions, that needed to be answered.

"How – Why did you not – Why did you lead me to believe you dead?"

He stared deep into her eyes as sadness and pain and something else, perhaps longing, burned in their azure depths. What reasons could possibly justify leaving him in such a manner? He silently begged her for answers, wanting, and yet not, to hear her answers.

"I – I wanted to come back," she assured him. "Honestly, I did. I wanted it more than anything. I just needed time."

"You needed two millennia?!" he hissed, his voice rising with his temper. "You couldn't have told me? I thought you had died in the battle of Vanaheim!"

She winced at his tone, "I would have come back, but something held me. I couldn't-"

"What could have possibly kept you from returning?" he demanded, pain and anger mingled in his words, making them sharp. "Is my affection so trivial in your eyes?"

"How can you even ask such a thing? I stayed away to protect the Nine Realms, to protect Asgard, to protect you."

"Oh, do tell," he snapped, pacing like a caged animal. "I cannot wait to hear what explanation you have for this!"

"You know I was charged with protecting the Tesseract-"

"A duty you gave up shortly after you renounced your family ties," he scoffed. "After your family's status landed you in the hands of a sadistic beast for weeks."

She gaped at him, stunned at his careless words, "Do not speak to me of that monster."

He flinched suddenly, guilt crossing his expression. Though it was gone within seconds, a faint flash which was quickly replaced once more by his rage, Freyja would never miss the change. It seemed he still resented Merek as much as she did.

"I hid the Tesseract away on Earth because it attracted too much attention to Asgard," she told him. "But I could not hide the secrets I hold, and our enemies know this. What do you think I have been doing for the past few thousand years?"

"Enjoying life's many pleasures," he accused.

"I have been running from Thanos!"

He stopped dead, a sense of horror flitting through him as he remembered the name. The face of the purple-skinned Titan, and his Chitauri minions, flashed through his mind. It had never occurred to him that Thanos might have had an interest in Freyja. Despite knowing the mad Titan was Helheim-bent on finding the Tesseract, Loki had always thought her to be forever out of reach for him.

"I would explain who that is, but then you already are familiar with him," she spat. "Thor told me everything that happened in my absence. I have been keeping Thanos chasing after me to keep him away from Asgard and those I love. But despite my precautions, you toss my actions to the wind and jump into the tempest without a second thought! Did it never occur to you that my entire life has been devoted to protecting the Tesseract? What did you think to accomplish by handing it over to him? He would have killed you – but only after he made you watch the death of those close to you."

"It does not matter," he snapped venomously. "There was no one who cared for me. Asgard tolerated me because you, their beloved sorceress, were kind to me. When you left, the truth came out. I thought you were one of the few who truly loved me, but it would seem I was mistaken. What person would abandon, and betray the trust of, those they hold in their hearts?"

Something flared in her eyes, catching Loki by surprise, "You asked me not five minutes ago if your affections meant little to me, now you speak to me as though I am your bitterest enemy. I wonder if it is you who no longer cares for me."

He turned on her but she stared him down with anger that matched his own, "Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my love? You, on the other hand, left me behind. You left Hela and the twins behind! Do you have any idea what it is like to explain to your children that they have lost yet another mother-figure in their lives?"

She gaped, "How can say that when you know my absence was against my will? It was never my intention to hurt them."

"I say it because, despite what you wish to believe, you abandoned us. You kept the truth from me, something you vowed never to do."

"I kept you from the death that surely would have found you otherwise!"

"You lied by not speaking the truth! Not only have you done this, but you knew I was a Frost Giant by blood since we first courted. Why did you not tell me? I expected such from Odin, but from you?"

"I never spoke of the matter because I didn't care that you are Jötunn – I don't care now! I thought I made that clear when I disowned my family."

"But you didn't tell me!" he screamed, betrayal contorting his features.

"If you had known I was the bastard daughter of the Vanir King, would you have told me?" she demanded.

He turned away, attempting to hide his flinch as he remembered how heartbroken she had been when she found out, "That's different."

"How so? I wanted to protect you from the grief I felt, just as you would have done had you known."

"That does not change anything. You betrayed me, how can I trust you now?"

She grabbed his shoulder, wrenching him towards her so that she could look him in the eye, "How can you complain when you have so much?"

"What do I have? No one loves me! No one even cared enough to tell me the truth about myself!"

"Everyone cared!" she screamed, tears forming in her eyes. "Your mother and father took you in, kept you from the painful truth! Your brother treated you with the respect and affection anyone would envy! How can you be so dismissive when you know my father did not love me enough to even try to persuade me not to leave? He let me walk out of his life as if I were a servant who poured his drinks, and you know this.

"You have everything! You still have your family, your friends! Your world still exists! I have lost it all! What do I have in my past? A broken family and a love I could tell no one about! What do I have ahead of me? An endless personal-Helheim of running! Don't you dare accuse those who care for you of not loving you when you take everything for granted!"

"You think you are in Helheim?" he yelled back at her. "My life is a lie! No one is who I thought they were, not even myself! I try to prove to Odin that I can be worthy of being his son and he spurns my actions. I try to find a kingdom of my own to rule and I am thrown in prison for my troubles. No matter what my actions are, I never do anything right!

"And on top of everything, I find out that you, the only one I ever truly trusted with every fibre of my being, the single person I believed to love me after Anni, has also kept me in the dark. You have deceived me. You claim to feel love when your people are as empty as stone. Your people are incapable of feeling anything, it would seem. Why should I believe you when you've done this? Your people are masters of manipulation, after all, so why should you be any different? You are just like the rest of them: untrustworthy and cold!"

"Enough!" she yelled, his few belonging flying backwards as her pent-up energy gave out in her anger.

Of all the time he had spent with Freyja, she had never expressed anger. Mild irritation, yes, but anything more had always been unattainable to her. The blatant emotion and her inability to control it surprised him.

"Why do you do this to us? To your friends? To your family? To me?" she whispered, before her voice rose with her temper. "I'm fighting a war, Loki. A war without a battlefield or even weapons. Since the fall of Vanaheim, I have been overwhelmed with emotions I cannot name and pushed past my limits on every plane. They cloud my judgment, twist my words until they are cruel, make peace and tranquility impossible to find. And nothing works against it! My world is crumbling down around me and I feel completely helpless to stop it!"

Her ferocity was beginning to scare him. She was expressing sentiments that she shouldn't have had the capacity to feel. Anger, jealousy, violence, they were all supposed to be impossible to experience by Vanir. But something had broken through five millennia's worth of sorcery, undoing the very magic that had been put in place after the Æsir-Vanir War, and exposed her to the foreign emotions.

"But no matter how much pain I receive, the worst of it is what you inflict upon me! You have hidden yourself behind a mask of brutality and malice. You use it to hide your emotions, your pain, your turmoil, but never like this. Afraid to show what you believe as weakness, you try to hide behind power.

"You once said you would never let me lose myself, but what about you? You're letting your pain blind you, Loki, blind you into believing power will give you what is needed. But power is a poison. With every struggle for it, another part of you dies. Every time you kill someone, you are dying inside yourself. The Loki I knew would have never given into such temptations. And do you know who I see in the mask you hide behind now?"

He remained silent, his strength drained, not wanting to hear the answer. For some reason, she was breaking him down unlike anyone else could. Freyja had always been able to cut through him until what was exposed was the raw truth. It didn't, however, mean that he had wanted her to do so now.

"Do you know who I see?" she demanded.

"Please," he whispered, desperately hoping she would drop the subject.

"I see Odin," she answered, making him flinch. "I see a heartless, greedy king who hungers for bloodshed and supremacy. I see a man who would cut down anyone in his way, including those he loves. This is not you.

"I know you, the real you. What happened to the man I loved? The man who treasured knowledge and excelled in arts that required elegance and tact, who was content with watching from the sidelines, who relished working with simply his wit rather than a sword. I know he's still there. If he wasn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He stared at the wall, not wanting to see the pain and questioning in her blue eyes. But he could feel her watching him. Worry, longing, and agony all emanated off of her in waves. Though he had never expected to see her again, he would have hoped their reunion would have been under better terms.

She sighed, her voice softening, "What happened to you, Loki?"

"I found out what blood truly runs through my veins," he whispered. "It created a weakness in my mind, and allowed me to be manipulated."

"Let me help you," she whispered back, holding out her hand to him. "Perhaps we can fix this."

He took it gently, tenderly, in the same manner as he had in the past, and she was no longer in the cell. The dungeons disappeared, transforming into Odin's Vault.

The hallway was lined with little alcoves in which priceless treasures sat, testaments to the All-Father's reach. It was relatively dark within the cold walls, lit only by the flickering flames of sparsely placed torches, but she could see well enough. At the end stood a pedestal that held a glowing blue-white glass box that was all too familiar.

Loki, a version which was closer to the one she had known in her youth, walked slowly towards the box that Freyja recognized as the Frost Giants' Casket of Ancient Winters. He gingerly took hold of the handles on the sides, lifting it off the pedestal, and his skin began to change to the bright blue of the Jötunns.

"Stop!"

Freyja jumped at the sound of Odin's voice. She watched, biting back the all-consuming emotion she couldn't name at the sight of the man, as Loki stiffened. It's just a memory, she reminded herself.

"Am I cursed?"

"No."

"What am I?" he asked as he replaced the Casket.

"You are my son," Odin answered without hesitation.

Loki turned, his now red eyes burning with bitterness against his paling skin, "What more than that?"

Odin did not answer, but simply watched from where he stood as Loki began to walk towards him.

"The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jötunheim, was it?" Loki asked, his voice soft as it always was when he was nearing rage.

"No," Odin said, hesitating slightly. "In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the temple, and I found a baby. Small, for a Giant's offspring, abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son."

"Laufey's son?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Loki's voice was full of sadness and confusion. "You were knee-deep in Jötunn blood, why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child," Odin replied, the lie causing a shiver to run down Freyja's spine.

"No. You took me for a purpose. What was it?"

Odin stood in silence as Freyja watched Loki's pain break through the last of his composure.

"TELL ME!"

She flinched in pain that mirrored his, his emotion echoing through her in the shared memory. This was not the way she would have wanted him to find out. She should have told him when she had been told the truth. He was right, she decided, when he had said his pain was partially her fault.

"I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace, through you."

"What?"

Freyja turned away, unable to bear the heartache in Loki's eyes. She felt helpless at the inability to comfort him. But the misery that tainted the entire memory was worse, like a knife plunged through her heart, and she couldn't escape it.

"But those plans no longer matter."

"So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me."

"Why do you twist my words?"

"You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?"

"You're my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth."

"Why? Because I-I-I am the monster who parents tell their children about at night?"

"No," Freyja said at the same time as Odin, but Loki continued as his pain turned to fury.

"You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years. Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

Freyja steadied herself against the wall, Loki's anger magnifying her guilt as she realized a connection. She shook her head stubbornly, as if the connection would disappear, but her thoughts were only emphasized at the sound of Odin collapsing again the stone stairs.

And then, she was back in the cell. Loki had let go of her hand, a look of fear in his eyes, and he reached out cautiously for her arm. She stared at the floor as she stepped out of his reach, feeling guilty and disgusted with herself.

"Freyja? Are you – what is it?"

She shook her head, tears sliding down her cheeks, "I- I'm sorry. I did this to you."

She could feel the shock radiating from him as he asked, "What are you saying? This had nothing to do with you."

"This is my fault," she whispered, tears running down her cheeks.

"I fail to see how this is any fault of yours," he continued.

"Forgive me, Loki," she pleaded.

"Freyja," he reached for her shoulder, pulling her close. "How could you possibly think this is your fault?"

He sat down on the bench, taking her with him. He stroked her hair with his long fingers, relishing the softness he hadn't felt since she left. One of the many things that amazed him about her was how her projections always felt real, in a way no Asgardian had accomplished, as if she were really there. He had missed their familiarity and the intimacy in their relationship. Even in the wake of their argument, there was the bond he knew would always be there.

"Do you recall when your father refused to send reinforcements to Vanaheim?" she asked, her voice carefully apathetic.

"Yes," he whispered in her ear. "I will never forget."

"Do you recall what I said to him?"

He slowed, thinking, "I believe so."

"And I trust you know of the impact of curses spoken in my tongue? The gravity of the promises my people make."

He stopped, looking at her even as she avoided his gaze, "I thought that was a myth."

"When have you known a myth about my people to be false?"

The truth behind the stories of the Vanir had been one of the first things he had ever learned from her. It was one of the harder lessons to learn, but he accepted it readily. Despite this, he still found it difficult to wrap his mind around the fact that legends such as a Vanir's curse was true, as such deeply-rooted magic seemed preposterous.

"Go on," he whispered.

"You should be able to put the two together," she whispered into his chest. "If you haven't done so already."

"You think that my actions stemmed from the words you spoke."

It was not a question. He thought about that for a second as she nodded reluctantly, knowing in some part of himself that it was true. It was possible, now that he thought about it, that her curse could have come to reality by him finding the truth. After all, it had led him down a much darker road. But he did not blame her for that. She had spoken that night out of grief for her dying kin and could not have known what would happen.

He had not been the only one to be forced down the wrong road. As he looked at her, he once again saw the tell-tale signs of the weariness her own path had caused her. He wanted to make her smile. The overwhelming need to see her happy again, to see her eyes alight the way they had when they were young, gnawed at him relentlessly. She had been furious, agonized, and guilty since he had acknowledged her presence. Now he longed for the euphoria she brought when she was happy. The way he got drunk on her delight. He was ravenous for it.

"Perhaps you're right," he breathed, angling her face towards his. "But it doesn't matter. What's done is done, and you could have never known what exactly would happen."

He brought his face down to hers and kissed her softly. She leaned in towards him, deepening the kiss. He allowed himself to tangle his fingers in the coils of her hair, relief washing through him when she reciprocated, as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue. Her tears had made her skin taste of salt, but he didn't mind. He could feel the bliss reverberating through her aura to the rhythm of her heartbeat.

He felt her fingers tracing over his lean muscles, following a path he knew was familiar to her. He always relished any time spent with her, though what he enjoyed most was unnamable to him. Perhaps it was the idea that she was forbidden, intended to be untouchable to him, and yet she was completely and solely his. What would Njord have done, he wondered idly, if he had found about us?

One of his hands trailed down her spine, barely brushing across her skin, to the small of her back as he pulled her towards him. She shivered under his touch, and his lips trailed down the side of her chin to her neck.

"Loki," she breathed as he nuzzled her neck.

He felt her gently pushing him away, leaving barely an inch between them, "Please don't make this harder for me than it already is."

"You're right, I'm sorry," he sighed into her ear. "How long will it be until you return?"

Sadness flashed in her eyes, "Loki…"

He pulled back slightly, realization washing over him, "You are coming back, are you not?"

She sighed, "I wish I could without bringing Thanos, as well."

"Freyja, Asgard can hold its own against Thanos. Nothing will happen here. Pleases come back."

He could see the indecision in her eyes when she spoke, "What would you do if you were me?"

He stopped, thinking over the question with care. He knew he couldn't tell her his answer, for he would stay away as well, and that would not further his argument. He would do anything to keep her safe, but he was powerless against this. And he could tell she already knew his true answer.

"When this is over, I swear I will atone for this."

"Atone for it now," he pleaded. "Come home."

Her resolve was wavering, but something still seemed strong within her.

"And what will you do to reconcile for your wrongs?"

He buried his face against her shoulder again, "I will take whatever penance you deem worthy. Every day, I-"

She kissed him hungrily, a pang of regret tainting it. She had only kissed him so desperately once before, and he did not like the resemblance, as he knew exactly what it meant. The last time she kissed him like that had been the day she disappeared for two millennia.

"Don't leave me," he whispered frantically, taking hold of her hand. "I can't lose you again."

She smiled in a bittersweet manner, "I will not lose me in such a way again. I will come back, I promise. When there is no more danger, I will return to you, and we will decide what will happen then."

She let her fingers trail across his as she pulled away. He wanted to stop her, to keep her with him, but his body refused to respond. Seconds after she let go, her projection disappeared. Leaving him in the dark with an emptiness he couldn't bear.

Freyja opened her eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady herself. Her headache had gone, but now she was left shaken. Visiting Loki had been a mistake on her part, she realized, as now she wasn't sure she had the strength to make the choice she had to make. But she knew what she must do. If she chose to be happy again, she would lose so much more in the long run. The higher the level of bliss, she had found, the harder she fell when it was over. She couldn't lose him permanently.

And, yet, she couldn't stay away either. He needed her. And she needed to understand what exactly had happened. How could she continue when he had such a strong hold on her? He was like poison, her father had told her. But it seemed more as if he were sunlight: she would burn from too much exposure and fall ill from too little. She searched the possible futures, but could see no end to the madness.

No longer having any ideas on what to do, Freyja stood up and walked briskly inside. Tony, who was standing behind the holographic screen of his computers, looked up as she entered the room.

"Still have that headache?" he asked quizzically. "You've been out there for an hour."

"The pain is gone," she answered. "But I feel worse now than ever."