Loki X Reader || Frostfire: Love Amidst Ice and Flame

Chapter 18: Illusions of Time

Y/N sat alone in Loki's bedchamber, moonlight casting faint silver streaks through the window. The shadows clung to her like a shroud, but the night's weight pressed heavily on her chest.

Loki's scent lingered—sharp, familiar, intoxicating. It filled the space, pulling her thoughts back to him with every breath. His presence always had this effect on her, an unavoidable pull that made her pulse quicken.

She felt his absence now more than ever, the silence between them deafening. His words, his gaze, and the way he moved through the world like it bent to his will—all of it consumed her mind. She replayed their last conversation, the tension crackling between them like fire and frost. Could she trust him? Could she even trust herself?

Her thoughts swirled in chaos—her dreams, Loki... her mother, Loki... the way his touch lingered, his rune, Lilith, Huginn, Asgard, her powers... Loki... the way his voice softened when they spoke, Heimdall, Loki... their not-shared kiss, the Dark Elves, Thor's words,... and again,... Loki... .

...always, Loki.

Every time his name surfaced, she felt an undeniable warmth bloom in her chest, a soft ache that slowed her racing thoughts. Everything felt like it was pulling her toward a breaking point, where she would finally have to face the truth about what he meant to her, and what she feared she meant to him. The battle with her powers was nothing compared to the gentle yet relentless struggle within her heart.

Her fingers drifted absently to the necklace at her throat, its warmth a small comfort, a reminder of the power burning inside her. It pulsed in sync with her heartbeat, like it shared the same conflict that brewed deep within. The fire and frost warred within her, mirroring her inner turmoil.

The flames surged with her anger, igniting when she thought of Loki's manipulations and his absence whenever she needed him, while the frost cooled her doubt, wrapping around her heart whenever Loki's face filled her thoughts. It was as if the necklace held both the promise of control and the fear of losing it entirely.

And just like the power within her, her feelings for Loki mirrored that balance—hot and cold, trust and suspicion, love and fear. Could she truly embrace one without being consumed by the other? A heavy sigh escaped her, the questions circled endlessly.

Then suddenly, the room shifted.

The candlelight flickered violently, and the ground trembled beneath her feet. The walls around her blurred, warping and dissolving like a dream unraveling at the seams. Her body felt weightless, suspended between realms.

She blinked, trying to focus, but reality slipped away, and she found herself drifting into the unknown—pulled toward a place where time had no meaning, where the shadows whispered of destiny, and the fog thickened with purpose.

Then, in the distance, through the haze, three figures emerged from the mist. They stepped closer with slow, deliberate movements. Each presence was distinct, heavy with purpose. The silence between them was palpable, humming with ancient, untold power. The weight of their gaze fell upon her, and though she could not make out their faces, she felt their eyes—watchful, expectant.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her hand tightening around the pendant. This was no ordinary vision. Whatever this was, it was pulling her closer to something she couldn't yet understand.

But the figures were waiting, their power undeniable, and Y/N knew they held answers.

"Who are you?" Y/N asked, her voice low, almost hesitant.

The first figure, tall and cloaked in shadow, stepped forward. Her voice was calm, filled with a sadness that lingered in the air. "I am the Past," she said, her words echoing as if they carried the weight of time itself. "I hold what has been—truths you have yet to discover."

The second figure, more direct, met Y/N's eyes. "I am the Present," she said, her voice firmer, as if rooted in the now. "I reveal what you face, what you ignore."

Finally, the third figure lingered behind, her voice barely a whisper that sent a chill down Y/N's spine. "I am the Future. I show what may come to pass, should you walk the path before you."

Y/N swallowed hard, the air buzzed with a strange, ancient energy, and Y/N felt the weight of their words settle deep in her chest, heavy and undeniable.

The Past waved her hand, and the fog began to swirl, parting to reveal a scene of a woman fleeing through a dark forest. Her face, pale and etched with fear, stood out against the shadows, her hand protectively clutching her swollen belly. The woman stumbled, but continued forward, her breath ragged, glancing behind her as if something terrible was chasing her.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as recognition set in. "Mother..."

The vision sharpened. Her mother's cloak billowed behind her as she rushed toward a stone gateway, the sky above crackling with Asgardian magic. Her mother spoke quickly, urgently, to the keeper of the portal, her voice trembling. The gate flared open with a burst of light. Without looking back, her mother stepped through, disappearing into Midgard's safety, desperation etched in every motion.

Y/N's chest tightened. So, her mother was an Asgardian, and she had fled Asgard—fled with her. But why?

The vision faded, leaving Y/N with the image of her mother's terrified face burned into her mind. The scene left her shaken, but there was no time to dwell. She turned to the Present, urgency rising in her chest.

The Present lifted her hand, and the mist cleared once more, revealing Loki standing in the grand throne room of Asgard. His figure was shrouded in shadows as he watched the battle outside. Y/N could see herself amidst the chaos, fighting alongside Thor against the Dark Elves.

Loki's gaze was icy, detached. He observed her from the edge of the turmoil, his eyes following her movements with a calculating, distant focus. His expression remained unreadable as he lingered in the throne room's shadowed alcove.

Suddenly, his voice cut through the chaos like a chill. "What's one life compared to the survival of the Nine Realms? If it comes to it..."

Y/N's heart pounded. The words pierced her with a cold clarity, knotting fear and betrayal tightly within her. Was Loki's detachment a mask for something more sinister? Was her life, her trust, truly expendable in his eyes? The thought unsettled her, filling her with a deep, gnawing dread. Her mind raced, but before she could make sense of it, the vision of the Present dissolved into mist, leaving her surrounded by unanswered questions and the lingering echo of Loki's chilling words.

Desperation clawed at her. She turned to the Future, who stepped forward. The mist surged violently around them, and a scene unfolded, sharp and vivid: a battlefield littered with the bodies of those she loved. Thor, her mother, her comrades—all lay motionless at her feet. Y/N stood amidst the carnage, her hands trembling, the weight of their deaths pressing down on her like a suffocating force.

Her breath hitched as the blood-stained ground beneath her feet seemed to shift. From the haze, a figure emerged—Lilith. But something was wrong. Her eyes, cold and filled with malice, locked onto Y/N. "This," she said, her voice cutting through the air, sharp and unforgiving, "is your fault."

Y/N staggered back, her heart hammering in her chest. The battlefield vanished as quickly as it had appeared, dissolving back into the mist. The Future retreated into the shadows, leaving Y/N alone, gasping for breath, her pulse racing in her ears.

The Norns stood silent, their eyes never leaving her as the visions faded, their truths lingering like a cold weight on Y/N's soul.