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tayterbean · 5 months

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You Have My Word

Loki, in all his arrogant, sarcastic glory, was your best friend. He wasn't always the best at showing it, but when it came down to it, he knew how close the two of you truly were. He knew that, no matter how hard he tried to disprove it sometimes, you would always be there for him and never had any bad intentions.

Even after the Attack on New York, you knew there was more to the story than initially met the eyes. It took a lot of convincing, but he eventually admitted that he'd been nearly forced to do it. He didn't think anyone would believe him, nor did he want to ruin his pride, so he kept quiet about it. You nearly took his head off for letting himself be condemned to life in the dungeons for something that wasn't entirely his fault. Apparently, he'd accepted his fate on that front, even though it still pissed him off tremendously.

Loki had been imprisoned for some time when the tragedy struck. When the invasion happened and the queen, his mother, one of the only people to ever treat him exceptionally and love him unconditionally, was killed. After you heard the news and got over your own momentary bubble of shock and grief, the first thing you thought about was him. How his mother was dead, and he was locked in a cell, completely alone.

You didn't ask for permission. You didn't care about permission.

You made your way to the dungeons, and you could hear the crashing and dull thudding all the way from the stairs. When you reach the set of sentries that guard the dungeon's entrance, they both silently step in your path, blocking you.

"No, let me through-"

"No visitors to the dungeon."

"I am his friend, let me through-"

"There are no visitors-"

You leaned in closer, gritting your teeth; your words are almost a growl. The sentries actually looked the slightest bit intimidated. "His mother is dead. I am his greatest friend. Give me five minutes."

The two men exchanged a wary look. One of them sighed before stepping to the side, and the other followed suit. "Five minutes. Not a moment longer."

You were already moving past them before he could finish his sentence. You rushed to Loki's cell, trying to absorb the sight in front of you as you made your way.

Loki is enraged - as you knew he would be. The anger always came first for him; the sadness would follow later. His cell was destroyed, the furniture within smashed to pieces, a few of the books shredded, glass shards from a bowl littering the floor. As you approached, though, he seemed to be on the tail end of his rage. He sent an enormous blast of magic towards a chair, practically shattering it against the cell wall, before doubling over, bending down so far he has to place a hand on the ground to steady himself.

You reached the cell and placed your hand against the barrier, as close as you could get to him. He was so absorbed into his own emotions and pain, he hadn't even noticed your arrival yet. "Loki..."

He looked up sharply, turning his head back to look at you. For the briefest of moments, he looked like a caged animal: alert, frightened, and immensely angry. Once he took in the sight of you, though, his expression quickly changed to shock, and then to sorrow.

In true Loki fashion, though, he was instantly masking the latter emotion.

He was breathless as he spoke, his breaths coming in heavy pants that engaged his entire upper body. "What? Have you come to gawk at the display? To laugh at how low I've sunken?" His voice was wavering the more he attempted to sound intimidating, and you could tell he knew that.

"You know I haven't," you said softly, shaking your head. "You know I would never."

He sensed the care in your voice, the empathy. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to submit to it, but he quickly covered it with a scowl.

"I don't need, nor want, your pity," he said slowly, having to force strength behind his words.

"It's not pity... I just wanted you to know that I care. I don't want you to feel so alone..." You almost regretted saying the words, thinking they would only amount to more perceived pity in Loki's eyes.

You were surprised when the words seemed to affect him so much that he could no longer feign malice, and he looked away. After a few stuttering breaths, he hauled himself to his feet and walked towards you. With a bit of hesitation, he first placed his hand against the glass, directly across from yours, then went a step further and leaned his forehead against it, closing his eyes. He bit his lip in an effort to keep his composure as you, also, leaned your forehead against the glass.

"I'm not leaving you alone," you muttered to him softly.

His hand on the glass clenched into a fist, but it was out of more pain than anger. His voice was barely more than a rasping whisper. "You should."

You shook your head. "No... never." Your hand curled, mimicking the gesture of wrapping around his fist, if only the barrier would allow you. "You have my word."

He tucked his lips even tighter, frowning, before his resolve cracked and he released an exhale that was very nearly a sob. He turned away from the glass, trying desperately, so desperately, not to let himself give in to the tears. He took a few collecting breaths before forcing his words out.

"Please leave..." It was a broken plea, not an angry command. "I-I cannot bear the thought of you seeing me like this..."

"Loki, you don't have to-"

"I know, I know." He spoke those words almost frantically, as if the thought of you seeing him so upset caused him panic. "Please, just... please go."

You'd never heard him say "please" so many times in his life, nor had you ever seen him so desperate.

He needed to grieve in private. You could understand that.

You swallowed before slowly beginning to walk away from the cell, heading back towards the entrance of the dungeons. Before you left the area, you paused and gave him a few parting words, hoping he would know they were true.

"You truly aren't alone - I mean that... Please do not forget it."

----------

When the night of Frigga's funeral came, you knew Odin would not be releasing Loki from the dungeons to attend.

You had a plan to fix that.

The sleeping brew wasn't particularly difficult to make, nor to get the guards to drink it. You presented yourself as a sorrowful lady who was desperate to give back to the kingdom after the death of the queen, and they simply could not deny your offer of seemingly innocent tea.

They were asleep within five minutes. You stole the master key from one of them, and made your way to Loki's cell.

When you looked around the corner, Loki was sitting on a chair, a book open between his hands. Once you continued your approach and he noticed you, his expression was initially shock, then almost as quickly faded into surrender.

He vanished the illusion without you having to speak a word.

Loki was sitting against the back wall of the cell, looking nothing short of deranged with grief: his hair was a tangled, long mess; his face was blotched from his emotions; and his eyes were red from his tears. He looked exhausted and aggrieved and was the cracked shell of a being, and in all your years, you couldn't recall anyone ever looking more pained. It goes without question that someone must have told him tonight was the night of the service.

You exhaled softly before reaching out your hand and displaying the key to him.

He looked equal parts shocked and frightened when he realized what it was.

"The guards are asleep," you spoke softly, "and they will remain that way for hours to come." You swallowed. "I'm going to do this for you, but you have to promise me... no tricks. We have to come straight back."

He sat up a bit straighter, seeming intrigued by your offer. When he realized you really were being truthful, you could see his eyes well over with tears. He inhaled a shaking breath before giving a quick nod.

"You have my word."

It was all you needed to hear. You placed the master key in the lock and turned it; the orange barriers faded away to nothing, and Loki slowly made his way to his feet.

You met him halfway and handed him a hooded cloak. "I know your magic may falter, with everything... but this should hide your appearance well enough."

It wasn't a common fact, but he'd mentioned to you a few times that his magic was harder to practice when he was saddened or anxious. You were surprised he'd even managed the illusion of himself, but knew that once he got at the ceremony, he may not be able to be so focused.

He took the cloak with a solemn nod of acknowledgment, already slipping it through his arms and over his head. You looked at him for a moment, pondering, before slowly reaching up and removing the hood. You looked at him up close, regarding him, and he sheepishly met your eyes, looking not too far from breaking down already.

"Don't leave my side," you told him in a whisper. Both to ensure he didn't try and escape on you (you didn't think he was really in the shape to do so, anyway) and for both your own comforts.

He averted his gaze from you for a moment; when he looked back, his eyes were overwhelmingly tearful and grieved. He said, in a voice even softer than yours: "Don't leave mine."

Tears became apparent in your own eyes as you nodded once. "Never."

The two of you made your way to the seafront courtyard in the midst of the chilly evening, navigating through the mourners. The only good thing about the crowd was that all of them were too absorbed in their grief to really pay attention to anyone else; it allowed the two of you to easily make your way to the seafront, where the ceremony would be held.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd attended a funeral of this scale; so grand, so regal, and so beautifully sad. The ceremony was one of anyone's dreams, and the grief of the entire realm was palpable in the nighttime air.

As you and Loki listened to the speeches, he remained by your side, still and silent, his face tilted downward so it could be concealed by the dark cloak. The two of you were never far apart enough not to be touching each other, which, most of the time, you were. He took your hand in his own more than once, angling his head even more to hide what you were sure were tears. At certain points, you leaned your head against his shoulder, nestling closer against him - in response, he would subtly place a trembling hand on your back and curl you just a bit closer to him.

Neither of you spoke a single word. Neither of you had to.

When it came time to send the lanterns, the two of you waited your turn until you were at the seafront. Once there, you each grabbed one of the lanterns, lit them, and made your way to an unpopulated, quiet area at the edge of the courtyard.

You bent down and placed your lantern onto the water, holding it steady. You murmured an Asgardian prayer, closing your eyes, before releasing the lantern and allowing it to be carried to sea, over the edge, guiding the queen safely to her final resting place of Valhalla.

Loki, who was kneeling to your left, was still holding his lantern in the water, his head angled so much that even you could not see his face.

You hesitated a moment before rising, coming to stand behind him. You squatted down slightly before reaching past his frame and placing your hand over his.

You made sure your voice was no louder than a whisper.

"Did you say your departing words?"

The cloak bobbed in a slow affirmative. You nodded in return, your grip on his hand tightening slightly.

"All right... Then together - on three."

There was a longer hesitation, but eventually Loki lowered his head even further; you took that as acceptance enough.

"All right. One... two... three."

You began to lift your hand, and after the briefest of hesitations, he did the same. You clasped your hand tightly around his as the lantern began to float away, drifting out to sea along with the thousands of others, along with the boat that held his mother's body.

He brought your attached hands in closer to him at his chest, then up further to his lips. You released his hand and moved yours to his shoulder when you realized he was using it to keep himself from sobbing aloud.

With a few murmured words of consolation, you got him to his feet before wrapping your arms around his mid-section and nestled yourself against him. His hands quickly came to encircle your waist, holding you as close as possible against him. As if you were the last, most precious thing in the world to him, and he couldn't bear to let you go.

He bowed his head nearly to his chest, and his whispered sobs broke your heart into shattered fragments. His chest heaved with each one, yet he kept them quiet, so soft only you could hear.

Only for you. Only for you would he ever be so transparent in his vulnerability.

Once he had gathered himself somewhat, you two wordlessly began the walk back to the dungeons, you keeping a subtle hand on his side the entire way. He wasn't angry or resistant - he knew it had to happen, and he knew that wasn't your fault.

The guards were still deeply asleep, so you passed back into the dungeons with ease. When you two reached Loki's cell, the two of you were still for a moment before you, once again, reached up and removed the hood from his head. His arms instantly came to wrap around himself as he refused to meet your gaze, his skin splotchy, his eyes red-rimmed and irritated.

You gazed at him before putting your hands out, palms up. He looked down at your offer, then almost instantly shut his eyes, as if the sight pained him. It seemed to take effort for him to place his hands atop yours, and something about the contact nearly broke him down to sobs once again.

"I'm going to speak with Odin," you told him adamantly. "To try and work out something different... something that isn't this." You fought back the tears in your eyes, dropping your voice to a whisper. "You have my word."

He managed to step closer to you and take you in a loose embrace before you could see too much of the emotional affect your words had. The way his breathing became shallow and stuttering told you enough.

He placed his chin on top of your head, taking a few moments to gather himself before he spoke in a quiet, nearly hoarse voice. "I will not forget this." His voice faltered slightly. "Thank you..."

You wrapped your arms around him, allowing yourself to be as close to him as you possibly could be. You didn't know when the next time you would get to hold him like that would be.

If there would be a next time.

----------

It was only a few days later when you saw him again - roaming the halls of the Asgardian palace with his brother, of all places.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you rounded the corner and were met with them both. They also both stopped, looking like caught animals until they realized it was only you. One look at Thor told you that Loki's unexpected freedom was his own doing.

One look at Loki told you that he was caught between feigning indifference and taking you in an unabashed embrace.

You made the decision easier for him by quirking an eyebrow, keeping your tone light.

"Look what the cat decided to drag out."

Loki's expression flooded with relief and something like admiration for a brief moment - it was then covered with his usual arrogant, sarcastic aura. "Much to your pleasure, I'm certain."

You couldn't help but to smile. "Yes... much to my pleasure."

Thor nearly rolled his eyes at the antics of you both. He gave Loki a sideways glance. "Come along, Brother... We have matters to tend to."

He began walking forward, but Loki hesitated a moment. Once Thor was ahead of you, the God of Mischief gave you a rare, sincere smile. He then stepped forward, bent down, and placed a quick, sheepish kiss to the top of your head.

"Aw, Loki-" you began, teasing him dotingly, but he interrupted in a low tone.

"Tell anyone and I shall deny everything."

You gave him a look before confidently placing a hand on the side of his face and planting a kiss on the opposite cheek. He was surprised enough by it that it flustered him, and his cheeks became tinged with pink.

"Tell anyone and I'll deny nothing," you said, smiling cheekily.

He looked at you bashfully, smirking a bit in that charming way of his. His eyes then glanced ahead, to where Thor was still making his way, before he looked back at you. "Wait for my return?"

You smiled at him warmly, knowingly.

"You have my word. Always."

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