The golden illusion of Asgard had become unbearable long before Loki admitted it to himself. The throne room was silent now most nights. He sat where Odin had sat for centuries, draped in authority stolen through desperation and grief, listening to servants move through corridors beyond the doors while pretending the weight on his chest was triumph instead of rot.
Days passed. Every evening he told himself he would go tomorrow and every evening fear stopped him, fear of discovering what his absence had done. Even with Heimdall gone from the observatory, leaving Asgard secretly was dangerous now. He could not simply disappear repeatedly while wearing Odin’s face before an entire realm. Every movement had consequences. Every absence risked suspicion. But none of that mattered anymore because every night he thought of her alone. He had abandoned the only person who had ever looked at him without wanting something from him. And somewhere there was a child growing without a father.
By the fifth full month he could barely breathe inside the palace anymore. So he left. He slipped through hidden fractures between realms the way he had done as a youth. Dangerous pathways only someone reckless enough to trust unstable sorcery would use. The crack opened like liquid glass beneath the cliffs beyond Asgard. Cold blue light swallowed him, then ocean air hit his lungs.
The realm unfolded around him exactly as memory had preserved it and yet not at all.
Water was everywhere, not merely seas but living architecture of water woven through land itself. Rivers flowing above crystal roots. Deep luminous forests where bioluminescent growth flickered beneath the surface of submerged trees. Fireweed glowing softly both underwater and across dark earth above. The air carried salt, rain, and something sweet beneath it he had never found anywhere else in the Nine Realms. He had abandoned this place too
Loki walked slowly through the thick forest, boots sinking into damp moss, heart striking painfully against his ribs the closer he came.
He knew the path without thinking. Some things the body remembered even when the mind wanted to forget. Then he saw the house, small beside the endless glowing waters, and suddenly he stopped.
He could face armies.
He could lie to gods.
He could stand before cosmic beings without trembling.
But now, hidden partially behind one of the enormous silver-rooted trees, he found himself unable to take another step because Mora was there. And for the first time in years, Loki felt truly ashamed. His hands curled tightly at his sides. What could he possibly say?
I fell into the void.
I became something terrible.
I came back too late.
I thought of you every day.
None of it sounded enough.
Then behind him came a soft voice,
“You could have simply knocked.”
The voice destroyed him instantly. Loki shut his eyes. Of course she knew he was there. The mer people always sensed more than others did. Illusions meant little to creatures who perceived memory, emotion, and intent like currents in water. He turned. Mora stood only a few feet away. Loki opened his mouth, prepared finally for the fury he deserved instead she whispered softly,
“My love… what did they do to you?”
The words shattered something inside him because she saw it immediately ; the exhaustion carved into him after years of violence and survival and pretending not to care. He looked away sharply, jaw tightening. He could not bear that tenderness.
Mora stepped closer carefully, as if approaching something wounded enough to bolt. Then she touched his face. Loki’s breath broke. Actual tears burned suddenly behind his eyes before he could stop them. He caught her wrist instinctively, not to push her away but because he felt himself unraveling beneath that touch. Her thumb brushed slowly across his cheek.
“They did terrible things to you, Loki,” she said quietly. “And you did terrible things in return.”
He shut his eyes because there was nothing to say. Mora’s voice trembled now.
“Was being king worth it?”
The question entered him like a blade. And for a moment the throne room returned vividly in his mind : gold halls, forced performances, empty power, loneliness echoing through endless chambers while he wore another man’s face pretending control meant fulfillment. Loki finally gave way. Loki lowered his head slowly, still holding her wrist against his cheek as if he needed the warmth there to remain standing. His shoulders trembled once beneath the heavy green-and-gold robes of false kingship, and Mora’s expression changed instantly at the sight.
“No,” he said finally, voice rough and fractured. “No… it was not worth it.”
The admission seemed to hollow him further.
Mora stepped closer without hesitation and wrapped both arms around him carefully, like someone approaching an animal that had survived too many winters alone. For one terrible second Loki remained rigid from pure instinct, centuries of defense locking every muscle in place..Then he broke, his hands gripped her desperately. He buried his face against her shoulder with a sound so wounded it hardly sounded human at all. Mora nearly cried herself hearing it.
“I tried to come back,” Loki whispered brokenly. “I swear to you I tried.”
She held him tighter immediately.
“I know.”
“No, you do not understand.” His breathing had become uneven now, words rushing out like something poisoned finally escaping his lungs. “I fell into the void, Mora. I should have died. Then Thanos found me—”
The name itself made her tense.
The water around the nearby roots shifted uneasily in response to her emotion.
Loki laughed bitterly against her shoulder.
“Yes,” he murmured. “That reaction exactly.”
He pulled back only slightly then, enough for her to see his face.
“He tore apart whatever remained of me. Every weakness. Every fear.” Loki swallowed hard. “I thought if I survived long enough… if I gained enough power… if I finally became what Odin never believed I could be…” His mouth twisted painfully. “Then perhaps none of it would hurt anymore.”
Mora listened silently, one hand still cradling the side of his face but Loki could not stop now.
The unraveling had begun fully.
“I invaded Midgard.” Shame thickened his voice visibly. “I killed people. I let rage consume me because hatred was easier than grief.” His eyes glistened helplessly. “Then my mother died.”
Mora shut her eyes briefly at the devastation in his voice when he spoke of Frigga.
“She was trying to protect me,” Loki whispered. “Even after everything.”
His composure cracked entirely then..Tears slid down his face openly now, years too late and unstoppable.
“And when she died,” he continued shakily, “something in me became… smaller. Colder. I could still laugh. Still scheme. Still lie.” His voice dropped lower. “But I stopped believing there was any version of me left worth saving.”
Mora guided him gently backward toward the enormous roots beside the house, lowering with him until they sat partially beneath the glowing branches. Loki looked almost unaware of where he was now, consumed by confession at last..She drew him against her chest carefully. And to her quiet heartbreak, he allowed it immediately.
“I discovered I was Jotun,” he whispered after a long silence. Mora felt him tense violently even now saying it.
“They hid it from me my entire life. Odin took me after a war.” His jaw clenched hard. “I looked at myself afterward and saw something monstrous. Something unwanted.”
Mora’s fingers moved instinctively through his dark hair.
“Oh, Loki…”
“I hated myself,” he admitted. Loki laughed weakly through tears, ashamed by how relieved he felt simply saying it aloud to someone who did not recoil.
“I thought if I became king then perhaps my life would finally mean something.” He shook his head faintly. “But the throne only made the loneliness louder.”
Mora held him in silence for a while after that.
The forests glowed softly around them. Water drifted through illuminated channels beneath the roots, carrying pale blue light across Loki’s exhausted face. Then quietly she asked,
“Did you ever think we stopped loving you?”
“Yes,” he whispered again. “Every day.”
Mora’s expression crumpled.
“You foolish, wounded thing,” she murmured softly..And before Loki could react, she pulled him fully into her lap the way she had years ago when he returned exhausted from reckless magical experiments and sleepless study. One hand cradled the back of his head while the other stroked slowly across his spine.
At first he froze from shock. Then the last of his defenses dissolved completely. Loki curled against her instinctively, hiding his face against her throat as silent sobs finally shook through him.
“You were lost,” Mora whispered firmly.
“I still left you alone.”
“Yes,” she said honestly. “You did.”
Mora pressed her lips softly against his temple.
“You left,” she murmured. “But you came back before your heart died completely.”
Loki cried harder at that because deep down, he had feared he was already too late for even that.
The night deepened around them slowly.
Glowing currents moved beneath the roots like drifting stars caught underwater, casting pale silver-blue light across the forest while Loki remained curled against Mora in exhausted silence. The storm inside him had quieted somewhat after the confession, though traces of it still lingered visibly in the tension of his body. Every so often his fingers tightened unconsciously against the fabric at her waist as though afraid she might vanish if he loosened his grip. Then, almost hesitantly, Loki murmured against her shoulder,
“When did you learn?”
Mora’s hand paused briefly.
She understood immediately what he meant.
Not if.
When.
Loki lifted his head slightly, eyes shadowed with lingering shame.
“When did you discover what I truly was?”
The pain in the wording made her chest ache. As though he still believed there existed a “true” version of himself separate from the man she loved. Mora studied him silently for several moments before answering.
“We always knew.”
Loki went completely still.
“What?”
Her fingers resumed their slow movement through his hair.
“The first time you crossed into our realm,” she said softly, “the elders knew immediately.”
Confusion flickered across Loki’s face first.
Then disbelief.
“That is impossible.”
“It is not.”
“The Allfather himself concealed it,” Loki said sharply, old instinctive defensiveness rising immediately. “No one saw through that illusion.”
Mora’s expression turned sad.
“Mer people do not see magic the way Asgardians do.”
Loki stared at her. And slowly, horrifyingly, realization began forming behind his eyes.Their species sensed essence, emotion, memory, and truth beneath shape. Of course they would have known.
His breathing became uneven again.
“You knew,” he whispered. Mora cupped his face gently before shame could consume him again.
“Yes.”
Loki pulled away from her touch then, rising halfway abruptly as panic and humiliation surged together.
“And no one said anything to me?” he demanded hoarsely. “For years?”
“You believed you were Asgardian.”
“Because I was lied to!”
“You were raised there,” Mora said quietly. “You loved it. You spoke of its stars and libraries and music as though they lived inside your bones.”
Loki laughed harshly and turned away from her.
“A frost giant pretending to be a prince.”
“No.”
Her voice cut through him instantly. Mora stood slowly behind him.
“You were Loki.”
He shut his eyes.
“That is not enough in Asgard.”
“But it was enough here.”
The words struck him harder than any blade.
Loki’s shoulders tightened painfully..He could feel tears threatening again out of sheer exhaustion.
“You should have hated me,” he whispered. “You should have told me the truth.”
Mora stepped closer carefully.
“When you first arrived,” she admitted softly, “you spoke of Asgard with such fierce pride that none of us understood why.”
Loki swallowed hard.
“You were desperate for belonging even then,” she continued. “You spoke like someone clinging to the edge of something sacred.”
A painful silence followed.
Then Mora said the thing that finally shattered him completely.
“So we chose to veil our sight.”
Loki turned slowly toward her.
Mer people could consciously soften their deeper perception when dealing with others. Mora’s eyes glistened softly.
“You wished to be seen as Asgardian,” she said. “So we saw you that way.”
Loki stared at her in disbelief.
“You… pretended?”
“No.” She shook her head immediately. “We accepted the truth you carried.”
“I was not Asgardian.”
“You were raised there. ” Mora stepped closer. “Blood alone means very little to my people.”
Loki looked almost lost now. He had spent years believing his entire identity became false the moment he learned he carried Jotun blood.
And yet here.....Here no one had cared......Not once. Mora touched his cheek again gently.
“You think we loved you despite being frost giant,” she whispered. “But that was never the important part.”
Loki’s breath shook.
“We loved you because you were kind beneath all your sharp edges. Because you listened to lonely things. Because you hid your gentleness like it embarrassed you.” A faint sad smile crossed her lips. “Because every time you visited, you looked relieved to breathe.”
Mora rested her forehead softly against his.
“Never,” she whispered fiercely. “Never did we hate you.”
Loki made a broken sound in his throat.
“Not when you arrived frightened and arrogant at seventeen.”
A tear slipped down his face.
“Not when you accidentally froze half the shoreline because you lost control of your temper.”
Another.
“Not when you confessed you feared disappointing your father every waking moment.”
Loki’s knees nearly gave out then.
Mora caught him immediately, holding him tightly as years of self-loathing buckled under the unbearable weight of unconditional acceptance.
“You foolish man,” she whispered against his hair while he clung to her helplessly. “You spent your whole life believing love would vanish the moment someone saw you clearly.”
Loki buried his face against her shoulder again, trembling violently now. Because for the first time since discovering the truth about himself, he was finally confronting something almost impossible to comprehend. Someone had seen exactly what he was and stayed anyway.
