Description: After growing up besides Loki and having a complicated friendship with him, you visit him in his cell at night.
Warnings/Labels: None
Approx. Word Count: 1,700
A/N: So it’s been… five years since I last updated this story. Five. Years. I am so sorry. But it WILL be finished. I have an outline. I have motivation. I am no longer stalled and am diving right back in. Please forgive me and enjoy.
Story Masterpost
You’ve begun to measure your days in letters and prison visits, counting the days between and feeling empty, bored even, on days without either. You recognize somewhere in the back of your mind that you’re bordering on obsession, but you always manage to quiet that particular voice.
Your letters with Loki are flirtatious, intimate. If anyone were to find them, they would not only be evidence of a crime, but of scandal and that would be arguably worse. So you’ve taken to hiding them beneath a loose board underneath your mattress, tucking them up into the frame of the bed itself. It would be smarter to burn them, but you aren’t willing to part with them. You wonder what Loki does with yours, but have never brought yourself to ask him.
This evening, when there’s a knock at your door, you rush to let Katerina in, already feeling a heat in your face at the anticipation of what Loki may have written. When you open the door, it’s not Katerina standing there, but a regular courier instead. He gives a short bow before pulling a letter from his pouch.
“From the prince,” he states plainly. His professionalism irritates you for reasons you can’t explain. You thank him politely anyways and accept the letter.
Once tucked back inside your room, you find the letter is from Thor, which does not surprise you given the manner in which it was delivered. What does surprise you however is that it’s not a letter, but a summons.
—
You walk swiftly through the halls. You can’t remember the last time you received a summons from Thor. It’s such an official request and gave such little notice that you worry something may be wrong. Maybe he’s heard about Loki. Maybe Frigga is sick. You try not to let your mind linger on the possibilities.
When you arrive at the gardens as requested, you notice it’s empty. There are no people within them, only Thor wrapped in his cloak, fingers idly playing with the leaves on a bush. Had he dismissed everyone from the area?
“Is everything alright?” you ask as you approach him. The smile on his face as he turns to you is warm and puts your fears at ease.
“Yes, yes, of course,” he assures. “I apologize for the short notice. And for the summons. It was sent off before I could object.” You nod and let your shoulders relax, relieved. “There are plans I would like your input on and before I knew it, there was a courier already on his way to you.” He chuckles and you can’t help but join him.
“The qualms of being a prince,” you jest.
“Indeed.” He extends he elbow out for you to take. “Walk with me?” You smile at him and take his arm. He walks you slowly through the gardens, rounding through the shrubbery and colorful flowers. You sense him hesitating.
“Are you sure everything is alright?” you nudge.
“I have a question to ask of you,” Thor says, deliberately not answering you.
“And what is that?”
“What qualities do you believe a good queen should have?” he asks thoughtfully. You consider your answer for a few moments. You’ve thought about it before, everyone had, but want to find the right words for such a sensitive subject.
“I would think someone logical, but not cruel and calculated. Someone confident and knowledgeable about where she rules. I imagine she would need to be willing to make tough decisions. And of course, she would need to tell the king when he’s being an absolute fool,” you finish with a smile, bumping your elbow into his side, hoping to lighten his mood. He chuckles, but it’s half-hearted.
“I’ve found not many women have such qualities,” he admits, slowing his pace. You shorten your strides to match. “You do however.” Your blood runs a little cold and your feet stumble in their steps.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say I’m a suitable candidate,” you say, trying to laugh it off.
“You’ve proven to have all the qualities you listed,” Thor counters. “I believe you would make a fine queen.” He says it with pride and a smile just wide enough for you to hold onto hope that he’s simply teasing you.
“You’ve been listening a little too much to the absurd rumors flittering around.” Your eyes scan the still empty gardens. Not a soul around and suddenly you desperately wish there was someone here.
“It’s not all rumors,” he admits. The cold dread returns, washing over your body.
“Thor,” you say his name seriously and grab his arm, stopping your walk and gently pulling him to face you. “What are you proposing?” You instantly cringe at your choice of words. “You’re not seriously suggesting you and I marry? That you make me Queen of Asgard?” His look is apologetic and that itself is telling. Your chest starts to grow heavy and tight with panic.
“There has been a strong campaign in your favor,” he tells you gently. “And I find myself unable to deny that you would make a wonderful leader.” You scoff and begin trying to speak, but all that comes out are short, huffed noises. You drop your hand from his arm and take a single step back, suddenly feeling as though you two are standing entirely too closely.
“And you want this? You want to marry me?” Another scoff because no matter how many times you say the words, they never sound any less ridiculous. “We’re friends,” you press desperately, as if he doesn’t already know this. He bows his head and nods.
“If I am forced to marry, and I will be,” There’s a sorrow in his voice that reminds you that you’re not the only one who this may hurt. “Then I wish it to be with someone I know, someone I trust.” He reaches out and takes your hand gently in his, stepping forward to close the space between you once more. He looks back to you and does not waver as he squeezes your hand. “I would choose you.” Your stomach rolls.
“You’re really asking me to marry you?” It comes out breathless. This cannot be real.
“I am asking you to marry me.” There’s a soft regret in his voice. You shake your head at him, but do not pull away this time.
“You don’t want to though.” His lips tilt up in a humorless smile. “What about Jane?” His smile falls and he sighs.
“I need to do what is best for Asgard. I want to. And if that means spending my years as king with you by my side,” He pauses to bring your hand up between you and place a featherlight kiss to the back of it. “Then I would consider myself eternally lucky.” His gentleness helps to calm the thoughts racing through your mind, but the tightness in your chest doesn’t let up. He studies you for a moment before his eyes narrow and he looks slightly alarmed. “You can say no,” he reassures quickly. “This is not being forced upon you.” He releases your hand and you let out a long shaky breath.
“This...this is absurd.” Without his hand on yours, you find it trembling.
“You don’t need to decide right now. Take some time,” he tells you.
All you can do is nod quickly. Without saying anymore, without looking back at him, you retreat from the gardens. Asgard seems to spin around you as you walk away. Breaths come short and quick and your feet lead you, your mind too busy rustling with worries.
You find yourself at the entrance to the prison and if you’re honest, you’re not even surprised this is where you ended up. You pass the posted guard without a look and guide yourself to Loki’s cell. The closer you get, the more the pressure eases in your chest.
You round the corner and see Loki sitting in his chair. He looks up when you come into view and his face lightens with a hint of a smile.
“Thor asked for my hand,” you blurt out before he can even open his mouth to greet you. He takes a pause and the excitement in his eyes slowly fades before he bows his head, hiding his expression.
“I suppose the polite thing to do would be to congratulate you on your engagement.” He lifts his eyes back up and you don’t like what you see; a mask. A fake glimmer that holds back an anger, a pain. It makes your heart drop in your chest.
“I haven’t accepted.” He hums in response and his smile returns, bitter this time.
“Ahh, but you will.” He straightens in his chair, sitting upright on the edge. Your eyes pull together, confused by his confidence. “Didn’t I tell you that you’d make a wonderful queen?”
“That doesn’t mean I should be or that I want to be or I ever will be,” you ramble quite loudly.
“This is not an offer one turns away from.” He stands and walks towards the barrier. He stops much further from it than you want. While you can’t touch him, his very presence brings you comfort and he feels too far away right now.
“I can say no,” you say, almost weakly as if you don’t truly believe it yourself.
“But why would you?”
The first answers that come to your mind don’t necessarily surprise you, but fill you with a sadness, a deep dread that begins to fracture the bubble you’ve been living in with Loki. Because I want you is not a realistic response. You can’t have him, Thor and politics be damned. He’s still forever locked inside a prison cell while you live your life freely. So you remain silent, trying very hard to come up with a response that doesn’t sound like a fantasy answer.
“You were always destined to be on a throne,” he says softly, eyes drinking you in and trailing down your body and you flush with his attention. “Just not with me beside you.” His words settle within you, heavy. Final.
Loki turns away from you entirely, picking up a book off an end table and returning to his chair to read as if he’s decided the conversation is over. And you realize he’s right. Because you have no more words to give and he’s left you standing at the barrier. Alone.
the duffers decided they didn’t want to hide jamie campbell bower in the vecna makeup all season so they put him in a slutty little brown suit, the twinkiest glasses ive ever seen, told him to smile, and then gave him an entire barbie dreamhouse to be offputting and handsome in 24/7
#verso#clair obscur verso#clair obscur: expedition 33#clair obscur#expedition 33#coe33#cw blood#sad man covered in blood#my favorite genre#i love him so much#qtval screenshots
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