"So, you're really not going to ask?" Reagan said to Skurge as they strolled alongside one another in the cool evening breeze. "You don't want to know what that whole standoff was with Fandral and the others earlier?"

They were making their way back towards the palace. After the tournament events had ended and the competition had come to an end, Skurge had insisted on hanging back for one final round of drinks and so the crowd had long since thinned to just a few stragglers when the pair finally look their leave. It was rather nice to be walking along alone after spending the day so thoroughly surrounded by a sea of people. It was a peaceful evening and Reagan finally felt like the morning's tension that had coiled up so tightly within her after her run-in with Halvor was allowed to unfurl at last.

Skurge, as Reagan's bodyguard, had insisted he needed to make sure she got safely back to her chambers. Despite the way his face was rosy from mead and the slight stumble in his step, he insisted he was on full alert and ready to defend her at a moment's notice. She was more than a little sceptical about that but was enjoying his company nonetheless.

"Ain't really none of my business, love," Skurge shrugged simply in response to her question. "I mean, it doesn't take a genius to figure out it had something to do with the Prince but... it all seemed a little unnecessary to me if I'm honest."

Reagan stepped up onto the edge of a garden bed that ran alongside the path they were travelling down. She extended her arms out to her sides, taking balanced steps along the paving stones as Skurge stumbled along happily on the pathway beside her.

"They weren't always like that with me," Reagan confided. "I think they liked me at first- well, most of them. Sif never did. But they used to be nicer to me, back when I didn't... they don't like that I like him. That we're friends now."

Reagan slowed to a stop and Skurge turned back towards her to find her gazing off into the distance, lost in thought. He took a slow step towards her. The sound of his heavy footfall seemed to shake her from her trance and she looked down at him. A complex wash of emotions played on her features.

"Loki's not what everyone thinks he is," she told him quietly. "Iunderstand why they don't trust him - why they don't like him. I didn't either."

She dropped his gaze and Skurge didn't respond. He just waited, giving her time to form her thoughts. She appreciated him for that. She had appreciated him for a great many things today, and there was just something about him that made her want him to understand. She didn't want him to think of Loki like the rest of them did.

"I... hated him, when I first met him," Reagan admitted. "After everything that happened. Everything I'd seen. It was all just black and white. He was this evil, heartless thing. Simple as that. He was something that happened to me. But Loki... there's so much more to him. There's so much to him. He's in the shades of grey. He's complex. And there is bitterness in him but..."

Reagan trailed off for a moment, shaking her head, not quite sure how to put it into words - not sure if she could.

"Being in his head - being forced to be around him. Learning who he really is - the him he tries to hide from everyone else. He's not this terrible monster that everyone thinks he is. He's just..."

"I feel like what you're trying to say to me here is that dark prince o' yours is actually sort of... nice?"

"Wha-nice? No."Reagan couldn't hold back laughter at the very idea. "No. No, definitely not."

The corner of Skurge's mouth lifted in amusement at her reaction.

"But he's patient," Reagan said softly, gentle affection lacing the words. "And he's perceptive and thoughtful. He cares, even though he tries to hide it, he does. And he'd hate that I'm telling you that because it's like he thinks it's a weakness. And he pretends to be so confident but he thinks he's less than he really is... And he is so fucking funny. And fun. And when he forgets that he's trying so hard to keep up this cold, hateful mask for all the world to see, and it slips away, he's warm and gentle and... I think I can trust him... I think I trust him."

Reagan trailed off, those last few words were murmured so softly. As if more for herself than for Skurge. He studied her, lost in her own thoughts, her gaze unfocused. Almost as if she didn't even realise she was doing it, her hand came up to wrap protectively around her forearm, over the mark forever hidden beneath her sleeve.

"That mark o' yours," Skurge said at last, gesturing to her forearm.

She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his.

"There's a whole lot of people with a whole lot of opinions about it," he went on. "I'm sure you've heard it all by now. Thing is, we all grew up on tales about the marks. All grew up secretly hoping we might be the ones who were chosen for it. I think because of that, people feel involved. Like they're entitled to it, know what I mean? Like they get a weigh-in about the whole situation."

Reagan nodded slowly.

"Thing is, they're wrong. It's of no one else's concern except yours and his. It's ancient magic, Reagan. More powerful than Odin himself. So none of us get a say about who deserves what. About how it goes. And for anyone to act like the two of you shouldn't even like each other? They've got no right."

She looked up once more to meet his eye.

"So you just pay 'em no mind, alright?"

Reagan smiled at him gently, warm appreciation blooming in her chest for this gruff, half-drunk, tattooed man in his slightly bulky armour. She held out her hand to him and he took it, helping her down from the ledge of the garden bed.

"I used to be so ashamed of it," she said softly.

"Used to be," Skurge repeated. "And how about now?"

Reagan quieted as she considered the question before looking up at him and answering earnestly.

"No," she said at last. "No, I don't think I am."

"Then to Hel with the rest of 'em."

Reagan smiled again and the pair once again fell into step, heading in the direction of the castle. It wasn't long before Skurge broke the silence that had settled between them once more.

"Just out of curiosity... what Lady Sif said, 'bout him listening in?"

"Yeah?"

"He listening now?" And for once the question didn't sound like an accusation.

"No," Reagan breathed out a long sigh, steeling herself. Perhaps it was all the mead, perhaps it was just that she felt comfortable around him, but she decided to tell Skurge the horrifying truth of it. "No, he is currently ignoring my existence because last night he caught me having an incredibly graphic sex dream about him."

"Oh my-"

Evidently, it was the very last thing the man had been expecting her to say. Reagan watched as Skurge's eyes blew wider than dinner plates before he doubled over clutching at his armoured sides, positively howling with laughter.

"Shut up..." Reagan whined, even as she found his infectious laughter got the better of her and she giggled along with him.

"I'm sorry, love," Skurge said, swiping at a tear in the corner of his eye. "But I don't envy you at all. I'd sooner walk over hot coals than have someone look inside my head and see something like that."

"Yeah, me too," she grumbled. "I can actually do that."

"Show off."

Reagan threw him an incredulous look.

"Can I just remind you I watched you drink forty-eight pints of beer today?"

"Forty-nine," he corrected, "And you kept up alright."

"I had four. Over seven hours."

Skurge shrugged.

"Either way, I considered it a pretty good effort. 'Specially for a mortal."

Reagan's smile faded slowly as her thoughts inevitably drifted back to those god-forsaken images filled her mind once more.

"I thought he'd make fun of me about it," she told Skurge. "I mean, that's our system. One of us does something even mildly embarrassing and the other one gets to roast them relentlessly. We do it about... well, everything. But instead, this time he shut me out. I think- I think maybe he's grossed out by it or something."

Skurge scoffed at that.

"Come on. Now you're just being ridiculous."

"He thinks Midgardians are beneath him," Reagan insisted. "He's outright said it. A lot. A lot."

"Reagan," he threw her a sidelong glance. "You're his soulmate. He's a man. And he has a perfectly functioning pair of eyes. Believe me, love, you have nothin' to worry about."

You're his soulmate.

She glanced at him with a sly smirk.

"Are you calling me pretty, Skurge?" Reagan teased, grateful for the opportunity to deflect a concept she was absolutely not ready to face just yet.

"I'm doing no such thing," Skurge insisted quickly and adamantly, going slightly rigid. "I may not be the sharpest blade in the battalion but I'm not stupid enough to try and make a pass at Loki fucking Odinson's soulmate. Do me a favour and make sure he's crystal clear on that if it comes up, yeah?"

Reagan laughed.

"Okay, will do."

"I mean it."

"I will."

"Alright... but if I get turned into a slug anytime in the near future I'm going to be fucking livid at ya."

When the pair at last reached Reagan's rooms she turned to him once more.

"Thank you for helping me today, Skurge," she said sincerely. "I'm really glad that I met you."

"It was my absolute pleasure, love. Like I said, anything to get a rise outta that toenail is a real thrill. And I don't mind admitting I had quite a good time in your company."

"I had fun too. You're pretty fucking cool, you know? Probably the coolest dude I've met in all of Asgard, actually."

"And I take it being the 'coolest dude' is a good thing?"

She smiled widely.

"It's a very good thing."

"Well, alright then. In that case, you're a pretty cool dude too," Skurge smirked, offering her somewhat of a bow. "And if you are ever in need of my services again, I'd be more than happy to call myself your bodyguard again. Day or night, alright?"

"How about bodyguard slash friend?"

Skurge slapped his heavy, armoured hand down rather affectionately on her shoulder.

"Sounds good to me, love."

Much later that night when quiet had settled throughout the city and a midnight breeze swept through the open window, Reagan lay in her bed in the soft glow of the crackling fireplace. She held up her bare forearm in the light of the fire and studied the mark there - its iridescent hues shifting in the firelight. For so long she'd avoided even looking at it, hidden it away beneath her clothes. She'd pretended it wasn't even there, denied that it was so impossibly beautiful... denied what it meant.

It was then that she finally - finally - sensed the vaguest whisper of him. It was just a moment. Just a fleeting brush against the bond, as if he were secretly checking to see that she was still there.

Reagan froze when she felt it, but as soon as she felt him retreating she reached out for him. Eagerly. Too eagerly, she knew it was. But she wanted... she wanted to see him. Slowly she sat up in bed as she sensed the way he stilled at her presence along the bond, stuck in between staying and going. It was a strange moment - hesitant - as if they'd each been caught staring when they shouldn't have been.

Reagan's heart rate jumped as she waited.

Loki? she asked softly.

And just like that, as she pressed gently against his shield, letting him know she was there. She felt it melt away under her touch.

When her presence entered her mind once more, she forgot the dread of facing him for just a moment, because as his presence returned to her a tightness that she hadn't even realised had settled in her chest slowly eased. She felt like she could breathe deeply again. Reagan hid the thought from him, buried it down with desperate determination, along with a strange and fleeting desire to cry.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself not to smile when his calm, velvety voice sounded inside her mind.

So, did you enjoy yourself at the Tournament today?

It was strange. He was supposed to be there with her. They'd discussed it; how she'd let him watch the tournament through her eyes so that he wouldn't miss out on the events. She'd actually been looking forward to it, knowing all too well how many ridiculous opinions he'd make known to her about everyone and everything there. But then her stupid, good-for-nothing brain had double-crossed her and allowed him to see the most mortifying thing imaginable. And so he'd been denied it after all. Guilt swept through her at the realisation.

But Loki's presence seemed so calm now. Casual, even. As if he was pretending that had never been the case, that he hadn't seen what he'd seen. And Reagan decided that if Loki was going to show mercy and act like there wasn't an enormously horny elephant in the room, well, she wasn't going to press her luck.

"I did, actually," she answered with false confidence, pretending that everything was fine. "I ended up having a really great day. There are some serious warriors in Asgard. Like, they really know what they're doing."

Loki let out a low chuckle.

So, you finally see why I 'bang on' about how inferior Midgardians are as you so eloquently put it?

"I mean, yeah. You know how much I hate to admit it when you're right but some of what I saw today was just straight-up amazing," she agreed a little too eagerly and cringed, certain that he could read exactly what she was trying to cover up. "Like, we have this guy named Mike Tyson, and then there's Natasha, and that's about it as far as I know."

She projected herself into his cell then and the sight of him swept the air from her lungs as fragments of her dream came flooding back to her with alarming force. He sat there, reclined on his bed, a book resting on his lap, one ankle casually crossed over the other. Those piercing eyes of his were already upon her. Reagan couldn't help but let her gaze sweep over his high cheekbones, the arch of his brows that held so much of his expression, that devastatingly sharp jawline. Her heart fluttered and she willed it to be still. She cursed the little flip her stomach did when she met his gaze last and he offered her a small, affectionate smile.

But then a calm washed over her, as if the sight of him were something soothing and just for a moment, all the worry that had coiled up inside her about facing him again melted away.

"Hi," she smiled gently.

"Hello there," he murmured back.

Reagan took her place at the end of his bed and launched into a recount of her day. With careful avoidance of any mention of Halvor, she told him all about the day's events; the tests of strength, spear throwing, the sword events. She let images of the most entertaining swirl down the bond so that Loki could experience them for himself. He laughed along with her as she explained in painstaking detail her favourite parts - the fumbles.

And she couldn't help but notice that all the while though, Loki was quiet. He kept looking at her like... well, she couldn't quite figure out what it was, exactly. She willed herself to believe she was imagining it. To push on. If she could do that then perhaps Loki would relax and start acting like his usual, annoying self again.

It was only when Reagan made mention of her newly found friendship with Skurge, and the frankly startling amount of ale he was able to consume, that she finally managed to coax something out of Loki that she was far more familiar with. As she allowed him to see a very select few of their interactions, Loki scowled.

"I can't believe you," he said suddenly, a certain malice in his voice.

"What?" she asked, genuinely stunned by the change in him.

"You actually had the audacity to call him the coolest dude in all of Asgard?"

Reagan studied him for a moment, pleased to see he looked genuinely affronted by the idea.

"Yeah, so?" she said all too innocently. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well, what am I?"

"A big, huge dork. I've told you that like a hundred times. Don't you ever listen?"

Loki scowled again but that only made Reagan grin all the more.

"Say 'dude' again," she insisted gleefully.

"No."

"Please?"

"No. It felt disgusting. I hated it."

"I know," Reagan leaned towards him just a little. "But I didn't."

Loki looked up to meet her hopeful gaze and absolutely glowered. He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest as he slumped back against his headboard, glaring daggers into the corner of his cell.

"Dude," he all but snarled the word, giving Reagan the distinct impression that he was trying to sound menacing.

She laughed delightedly.

"One more time."

"No."

Loki propped his foot on her thigh and half-heartedly attempted to push her off the bed. Much to his dismay, she remained positioned happily in place rather than in an embarrassing pile on the floor.

"If you're going to insist upon being this insufferable tonight then why don't you run along and bother this Skurge of yours instead, seeing as you love him so much," he grumbled.

Reagan tilted her head, smiling.

"Loki... Don't go getting jealous just because I'm making friends with the other kids. You don't have anything to worry about, I still like you better, okay?"

She was only teasing him, they both knew it, but Reagan didn't miss the way he had to fight off the tug at the corner of his lips.

But then Loki's brow furrowed as if a thought had occurred to him.

"What did you mean by 'bodyguard'?" he asked, his gaze settling upon her once again. "Why did you call him that?"

Reagan did actually stiffen a little at that. And he felt it - her hesitation. The way she worked to conceal something from him.

"Oh, it's nothing. I-uh..."

Loki sat up slowly, leaning towards her. He could feel the unease rising in her. He wasn't the cause, but she didn't want to show him the truth of it. Something - someone - had made her... afraid. Loki darkened, any jesting in him all but vanished.

"What happened?" he asked her calmly. Too calmly.

"It's nothing," she insisted.

"Reagan-"

"Loki, it wasn't a big deal."

"Did someone hurt you?"

"No," she assured him. "Nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"Look, I just... I just had a little run-in with Halvor again, okay?" she admitted at last. "But it was nothing. I had it under control. And Skurge saw what was happening and intercepted then kept an eye out for me the rest of the day, that's how I met him. It really wasn't a big deal."

She made the mistake of meeting his eye and her breath swept from her lungs. His gaze bored into her, intense, trying to read her expression, as if he didn't already have access to her mind.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently. His tone was so vastly contrasted with the tension she could feel radiating down the bond.

"I'm fine."

"Show me what happened."

"Loki, it's not-"

"Reagan, please, don't torment me. I have to know."

Reagan met his gaze for a few moments more before she sighed in defeat and relented. She let the memory slip past her barrier and waited as Loki let his mind brush gently against hers. Reagan almost winced as she watched him inspect the memory, watching it unfold. Every second his features grew harder. Every word spoken, world-ending rage grew within him.

All I'd have to do is reach out a hand and I could crush your windpipe with a mere pinch of my fingers.

Loki froze.

"He threatened to-"

It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before - pure energy suddenly exploded out of him. Pure, liquid-hot rage. It filled the cell and set every last one of her nerves on edge. It was searing, and oppressive and impossibly - impossibly - dark.

Reagan leapt up and staggered back from him suddenly, her eyes widening as she took in the startling display of power.

Terror gripped her, shallowing out her breath and causing her heart rate to spike rapidly.

She'd forgotten.

She had heard tale after tale. The endless warnings. She'd seen him in New York. And still, she'd grown so comfortable around him that she'd forgotten that he was a being of unimaginable power.

The instant Loki felt her fear he froze. He whipped around, his focus on her.

Panicked.

The force of his power swept from the room almost instantly.

As it if was all sucked back inside a black hole.

The two of them stood in the emptiness it left in its wake, staring at each other, both equally shocked.

Loki watched her wide-eyed, his features paling. She felt the regret that filled him instantly - the way it washed out the rage. He held his hands up placatingly, forcing his powers to dissipate as quickly as physically possible.

"Forgive me," he all but begged her.

She just stared at him, trying to catch her breath.

Loki opened his mind to her, wider than he ever had - showing her too much. Far too much. But in that moment he didn't care, not so long as it allowed her to understand.

She wasn't really there, he'd known that - he was always all too aware that she wasn't really there. If she had been, he never would have allowed himself to lose control like that. But his powers couldn't hurt her. She'd never been in danger. He couldn't hurt her - wouldn't hurt her.

But still, he needed her to know that he hadn't meant to frighten her.

He'd forgotten she hadn't seen it. She'd never experienced the worst of him. He was so used to her presence in his mind. She'd seen so much of the ugly parts of him and accepted them for what they were, he'd forgotten she didn't know of his darkness.

"Reagan..."

He said it pleadingly.

He wanted so desperately to reach for her - to calm her - but he feared that his touch would do more harm than good. He'd done so much damage already today, he didn't want to make it worse.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

He watched the way her chest moved as she tried to calm her breathing. She watched him, unblinking, her stance so evident that she wanted to run from him.

He was all too aware of the fact that she could disappear at any moment. Put her shields in place. Separate herself from him.

He prayed to all the forces of the universe that she wouldn't.

He just wanted a chance to undo it.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently as he felt her retreat back into her own mind, keeping the painfully large distance between them, hoping it was enough to make her feel safe.

The few seconds that she didn't respond to him felt like a lifetime, but then mercifully, she nodded. Though she still eyed him guardedly.

"Please, forgive me," Loki murmured gently. "You have to know- Reagan, wouldn't- I- I could never..."

She nodded again, understanding, her heart still thundering. But her features shifted slightly. Softened. And though she still looked guarded, she stayed and took a slow small step back towards him. And that small gesture alone... it was almost enough to bring him to his knees.

"I know," she murmured. "I know that."

She looked up at him earnestly.

"I'm so sorry I frightened you," he whispered, and he had to ball his hand into a tight fist to stop himself from reaching out to touch her.

"It's okay," she assured him, and though she was still visibly rattled, she took a few steps closer to him again.

She wrapped her arms around herself, and it took all his willpower not to allow himself to take hold of her and draw her to him. To hold her against him, clutch her to his chest and keep her safe from all the world. He resigned himself to only gaze down at her instead.

"I would hate to be Halvor right now, though," she told him, in a weak attempt to make a joke. She gave a feeble smile. Her eyes flicked to meet him and then away again, slightly self-conscious.

Loki offered her a gentle smile as he concealed his next thought from her.

Yes. Yes, you would.

"I wish you had called for me," Loki admitted in a whisper.

He sounded so pained in that moment that all Reagan wanted to do was to reach for him. She didn't allow herself.

"Loki," she said gently, offering up a sympathetic look. "You couldn't have done anything..."

She didn't say it unkindly, but it was an ugly truth. She all too well that he would have had to watch, through her eyes, locked away in his cell... He wouldn't have been able to do anything. He would have just had to watch if that sonofabitch had-

"I didn't want to make you feel..."

"Useless," Loki finished for her, his jaw twitching in

"Helpless," she corrected gently.

Loki cast his gaze down, nodding solemnly. He didn't have a response to that

"I'm okay," she assured him once more. "And the rest of the day was really fun. Even if I maybe kind of just a tiny eensy weensy little bit missed having you around."

She smirked up at him and when she finally caught his eye, Loki could help but to soften a little as he returned the smile.

"Tell me more," he insisted gently.

They fell back into a comfortable recount of the day, and though it took a while for her to seem truly at ease again, Reagan spoke animatedly about every last detail she could remember. She rambled on and teased and poked fun. On and on she went, until she was certain she'd have nothing left to talk about, but still she kept going because the more time that passed, the more she felt the bitterness in Loki slowly - slowly - seeping away until he looked at her softly, the rage truly seeping away. And slowly but surely, it became comfortable again. And even as she spoke, Reagan couldn't help but to watch the way Loki watched her. Something in his eye, as he looked at her, reminded her of another image of him - of him gazing down at her as he lay her against his pillows, his hair falling around his face, pupils blown wide before he leaned in and-

"Oh, and Fandral was actually telling me about the Frost Giants," she said suddenly, reaching for something - anything - in a desperate attempt to distract herself. "They're pretty messed up, right?"

Loki stiffened.

Reagan blanched, praying that she'd imagined it.

"But to be fair, if you lived on a freezing cold ice planet, living off nothing but frozen fish, you'd generally be in a pretty bad mood all the time too, don't you think?"

Still, he didn't respond.

Relax, she told herself. He can't have seen it. You shielded it. Everything is fine.

"Actually that's a bad example. You're already generally always in a bad mood," she teased.

Loki didn't take the bait.

Instead, he stood suddenly from the bed, moving to face away from her. She turned to watch him, nervously. He clasped his hands behind his back as he peered out of the cell. There was a rigidity to his posture. Tension coiled through him.

"Loki?" Reagan asked, tentatively.

He didn't answer her immediately, and she waited for him, uncertain.

"So I take it they told you?" he asked at last.

Her brow furrowed in sudden confusion.

"Told me what?"

Loki turned back to study her then, tension in his features, certain of what he would read upon her face, but she only stared back at him blankly.

"Nothing," he relented at last. "Forget it."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"But you're acting weird..."

When Loki didn't answer- when he avoided her gaze - she thoroughly deflated. He'd seen the stray thought. Seen her thinking about it. And his gracious attempt at ignoring the horrid images he'd witnessed had, at last, come to an end.

"Oh, God. You saw, didn't you?" she groaned then, feeling ill, and brought her hands up to hide her face from him. "You saw me thinking about it? The dream?"

For a second time, Loki froze. He couldn't quite find it in himself to turn to face her.

"Okay," Reagan groaned, steeling herself. Her hands still shielded her from his view. "Go ahead. Just get it over with."

She was met with a few beats of agonising silence. But, when he did speak, Reagan was surprised to find that Loki sounded even more mortified than she did.

"That dream- whatever you thought you saw; there's no need for you to look at it as anything more than it was. A dream."

Reagan stilled. She hadn't expected that. Slowly, she lifted her face out of her hands hesitantly, to peer his way. He was nervous, she realised. Loki was nervous.

"You have to understand," he went on, tension lacing every word. "I've not really come into contact with many other people in quite some time now, not since being confined to the dungeons. You're the person I spend the most time interacting with - speaking with. Your mind is linked to mine. It's inevitable that you'll slip into my unconscious from time to time. But what you saw-"

"Oh..." Reagan whispered as realisation dawned on her.

Those images.

They hadn't belonged to her.

She'd been so busy worrying about what he'd think of her, so mortified about what his reaction would be that she hadn't even considered-

She looked up at him at last, meeting his hesitant stare, and was surprised to find that he had to cast his gaze away from her.

He loosed a breath, uncomfortable.

Sympathy swelled in her chest.

"Loki..."

Reagan wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but Loki spoke again before she had a chance to even gather the thought.

"If you'll allow me to be pathetically honest with you," he said, and Reagan found it rather hard to breathe.

She had no idea what he was going to say next - what she wanted him to say next.

"You are the dearest friend I've had in a very long time," Loki admitted, softly. "And as much as I might pretend as though it's untrue, you've come to be truly important to me. I enjoy your companionship. And the idea of compromising that is... unpleasant. And so I ask that you please just grant me mercy... just this once and pretend you never saw what you saw. Because truly, Reagan, it didn't mean anything."

Reagan swallowed as she stared up at him - the way he still couldn't meet her eye. She was so unused to seeing vulnerability in him - with something so close to desperation in the way he pleaded with her, all the while trying to maintain that calm, collected demeanour he always worked so hard to project. She knew how badly he hated to be seen... feeling. She knew how it made him feel weak. No matter how it had started, she hated that it was because of her. She wanted to fix it. Undo it. She found herself wishing that the dream had been hers after all - that he could tease her about it mercilessly. That he could feel comfortable again. She found herself wishing...

"It's forgotten," she promised gently, genuine kindness in her voice.

And she so desperately wanted to mean it. He'd done so much for her, she truly wanted to be able to do that for him in return. Grant him his one single request.

And still, when she spoke, Loki - God of Lies - knew an untruth when he heard one.