Chapter Text
I hardly know what’s going on. Thor is banished, and the Allfather has fallen into Odinsleep. Frigga refuses to leave his bedside, which is completely understandable, of course—she has made Loki king, which should be fine, except—except there’s something different about Loki.
When he came to my room in the middle of the night the other day, I knew something was up. The way he held me was almost… desperate. His eyes had looked so lost. I managed to get him to tell me what was wrong. And I had to fight to remain rational when he revealed to me his discovery of his true parentage. I did my best to soothe him, and when dawn broke he assured me that he was all right.
But no, he wasn’t. And he still isn’t.
He is no longer that mischievous, perhaps a little moody at times but still happy prince I once knew and loved.
I still love him. But I am scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen.
I head out from my chambers, intending to go to the Bifrost to find Heimdall, to ask him if he’s seen anything strange going on with Loki lately. I catch Sif and her friends heading to the Bifrost, and they tell me that Loki has refused to end Thor’s banishment. I bite my lip, trying to understand what this means.
Well, for one thing, it confirms my suspicion that Loki is completely changed.
My footsteps quicken.
We ride to the Bifrost. I don’t attempt to stop my friends from their plans to go to Midgard. I understand their motives; and they are stubborn—I won’t be able to stop them even if I tried.
When they’re gone, Heimdall warns me that Loki is on the move. “Yes, he has been disappearing from Asgard for hours at a time these past days. But you need to go now; he knows I’ve activated the Bifrost. “
“Where is he headed?” I call as I mount my horse.
“The Weapons Vault,” Heimdall’s low voice boom from behind me.
I calculated where I should intercept him on my way back, and rush up the stairs when I get back to the palace. To my amazement my plan works and I catch him a few hallways from the entrance to the Weapon’s Vault.
“Loki,” I call, catching up with him. He stops in his steps and turn around, a tight smile spreading on his face, but not reaching his eyes. My heart feels cold at the sight; fear creeps up on me. I slow down and stop walking when I am still a little distance from him, unable to bring myself closer. I try to read his eyes. “Loki…” I furrow my eyebrows. “What’s going on?”
“What’s the matter?” he asks me, closing the distance between us. He’s watching my face too, probably trying to read my expression. I realize I’m out of breath; partly from running, partly from the paranoia seeping within me.
“Loki, I—what are you doing? Please tell me,” I beg, my voice trembling. He picks my hand up, and I lean in to his chest. He wraps an arm around me, and I feel the strange stiffness of his action. “I—I’m scared,” I mumble. “Please let me in, don’t shun me. I know something’s been going on.”
He doesn’t answer. I keep going.
“I love you, Loki… You know you don’t need to hide anything from me…” He breaks away, his eyes cold. “Please,” I beg again.
His smile is gone, and his face has hardened. “Don’t you worry about it; I have a plan.”
I shake my head, holding on to his wrists. “Please stop, whatever it is you’re doing—before it’s too late. Loki—“ the pitch of my voice rises when I feel him trying to pull away.
“Go back to your room. I will find you later.” He must have seen my eyes tear up, because his sternness lessens a little, and he leans in to kiss my forehead. “Don’t fret, love. I promise nothing will happen to you. To us.”
When he turns and walks away, I feel like I am crumbling. Something tells me that I have to stop him at all costs. And the intuition is so strong that I force myself to follow him, despite feeling completely empty.
I manage to slip into the Weapons Vault before the heavy, enchanted door closes. There is a weird low boom, and a blinding light that is soon dimmed by a huge shadow. I look up and feel my breath catch. The Destroyer.
“Ensure my brother does not return. Destroy everything.”
Loki doesn’t notice me until he turns around to head out of the Weapons Vault. His eyes widen at the sight of me, frozen, staring.
“You…” I fail to form any coherent sentence.
My ears are ringing; I read my name on his lips rather than hear it.
He steers me out of the Vault and gently guide me down the hallway. When I get myself together I realize I’m sitting in his room; he is crouched before me, my hands in his.
“I can explain,” he tells me.
“He’s your brother,” I choke out, “And they your friends…”
Loki presses his lips together in a thin line.
“Is this what you’ve been planning? Has everything been your doing?” I slowly start to put the pieces together, and tears begin to form again. “Loki—“
“Listen to me—“
“What have you done?” I whisper as the first tears start to fall.
That shut him up. He looks at me with a pained expression, for a good few minutes.
I think desperately for something to say, something that might change his mind and stop him from the path he is taking. The thought of Loki letting whatever darkness in his heart consume him is suffocating. I need to do everything in my power to redeem him. And I fear that he has more planned—
Darkness… Redemption… Why do these words ring a bell?
And then he stands up. “I have to go. I still have… business that needs to be done.”
That’s the last straw.
Something clicks in my mind. A few months before Thor’s supposed coronation, we were lying in his bed going through a book of spells. When I read the title of a page, I had giggled, and Loki had asked me what was funny.
I pointed at the runes on the page. “Soul Redemption?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow before reading the description out loud, dramatically. “For when darkness takes over a being’s soul… What does that even mean?”
“Mother has told me about this spell. If anyone seems to be… losing him or herself to the power of evil, so to speak, and needs redemption—“
I had snorted. “Sounds like some kind of fairy tale.”
“There’s a catch. The spell requires a sacrifice—the spell will wipe the subject’s memory of whoever who cast it.”
“Ooooh,” I mocked, snorting again. “Cliché.”
I force the lump in my throat away. “No, Loki,” I tell him.
The cliché has become heartbreak as I flex my wrist and conjure up the very book we were reading that night. Loki watches me, confused. With shaking hands I leaf through the yellowed pages, and find the spell. I swallow and look down at the runes, tracing my finger over the words. I hear Loki gasp when he recognizes the page I’m on.
“What are you doing?” he asks sharply, rushing over to snatch the book away. “Redemption? You think that’s what I need? And don’t you remember what I told you? The subject will forget—”
But he is too late. In the few seconds I have gotten the spell down. Loki stops midsentence when he realizes that I’m already concentrating, closing my eyes and blocking him out so I can control the flow of magic. I begin to murmur the spell.
“Han vars själ…”
“No, don’t—don’t!” Loki takes hold of my shoulders and shakes me. I can hear the panic in his voice now, but I refuse to be distracted. “I will forget you!" His voice rises, "Don’t do this to us—“
“…har fallit ska lösas in.”
I open my eyes to get lost in a sea of green. A single tear rolls out of my eyes. “I love you, Loki,” I whisper, my heart shattering.
Then there is a blinding light.