We Have to Try.
A/N: I was feeling angsty, so I’ll make you guys suffer.
Title: We Have to Try.
Author: royalbluehues
Rating: General
Warnings: Angst, and you’re probs gonna wanna kill me after this.
Pairings: Loki Laufeyson x Reader
A hand is holding on to Loki’s- it’s clammy and small. It’s grasping onto the only source of comfort it can find- squeezing long fingers each time it glances at the body.
Loki is reciprocating the hold, though, it’s much more gentler. It’s a paternal love- one that will never die; it’s a love that can never be put out, it’s a love that is still burning despite the heavy downpour.
They are both sitting next to one another, and sadness is looming over both of them in the worst of ways. There are men and women that come to say their condolences, and Loki is the one who thanks them. The child’s eyes are flooding with tears as the men and women go to encourage him.
“Be strong,” they would ruffle his black locks, “be strong for her.”
After a while, they stop coming, and Loki is grateful for it. Silence stretches out, not a single person speaking.
It’s a terrible feeling, Loki decides, one that he would not wish on his greatest enemy.
It’s worse than any battle wound Loki has ever received, it’s stronger than any hit he has ever taken. It’s more potent than poison.
It eats at him, and it’s evident on the man’s face. His skin is much more pale, the circles under his eyes dark. His eyes are recovering from being bloodshot, although it hurts to blink because they sting.
He’s ran out of tears, and he wants to yell- yell and howl until he has you back into his arms. He wants it to end- this pain. There’s a gaping wound in his chest, and it is only growing bigger with each passing moment.
Silence and solitude were always a comfort, but not when you were missing. He can’t stand it. He can’t stand having the bed to only himself- not feeling your warm body pressing against his. At night he goes to his son’s room, and he is already waiting for him.
He’s looking up at him from under his cover and tiny tear drops fall on the side of his face. “I miss mother,” he tells him.
Loki can’t say anything, but can only choke back the tears as he grabs the last and only thing that connects him to you, the reminder of you.
He has your eyes and the shape of your lips. Everything else is Loki.
But there are some times that leave Loki breathless: the way your son would speak and do little mannerisms. It’s you.
Loki breathes in deeply, before giving the signal to commence. Men and women are lined along the sides of the castle, all holding lanterns. Your son begins to sob as your body travels down the man-made pond.
“Never doubt that I love you,” you had told him, kissing the pads of his fingers. Your body is disintegrating into a cluster of stars and it hurts.
To distract him, to give him something to focus on other than the large lump in his throat that had not gone since you passed, he picks up his child.
He immediately clings to Loki’s neck, his small hands grabbing fistfuls of the shirt his father is wearing. Loki can feel the hot tears falling down his skin, and the way his son is gasping for air. Loki rubs soothing circles into his back, cooing and promising him that everything will be alright.
The pain is the reminder that you were real. That you were real and that you loved him and he loved you with every fiber of your beings.
“But mother-” he chokes when he pulls back, “Papa, what will we do?”
Loki gives a breathy chuckle, smiling sadly, “You silly little boy. I will be fine. You will be fine. She will always be with you as she will be with me.”
The child shakes his head, “Papa, it hurts. It hurts so bad and I want it to go away. I miss her.”
“I miss her as well.” The small head nuzzles back into the crook of Loki’s neck. Green eyes are glazing over, and he gives his son a firm kiss on the side of his head, and he continues thickly, “And the pain I am feeling is indescribable, my love. But we have to try.”
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