Bewitched by You (A Marvel/Harry Potter Crossover) COMPLETED

Chapter Twenty-Two: Sadness Will Out

Loki had centuries ago mastered the art of lucid dreaming—of carrying his full, waking consciousness with him into slumber when and if he needed, of control over what he did, what he saw, and with whom he interacted. Of course, one might not believe that to be the case with his recent flights of fancy during dreams.

Current events throwing his judgments askew aside, he could say that mastery was why, when he found himself in his childhood bedchamber, he was not terribly surprised to see Frigga. Mother stood by the window, watching the beautiful lights dancing in the sky over Asgard, never seeming to notice how the illumination haloed her.

He was ashamed to admit to himself that she'd forgotten how lovely she was.

Swallowing hard and blinking suddenly, suspiciously damp eyes, Loki dropped his gaze to the floor. All his fault. "Mother, why are you here?"

"Always with that silly question," she said, turning fully toward him with that gentle smile curving her lips. She held the expression until he finally looked up at her, and then let it fade slowly. "Do I not always appear when you are troubled?"

He smirked, uttering a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. Yes, yes, of course she did! She was the only one who had still tried . . . . The only one who had continued to treat him as family after the punishment for his crimes was delivered. Certainly, Thor still called him brother, but he knew the great blond lummox no longer carried that sentiment in his heart.

Of course he would summon images of his mother when he felt troubled. He understood full well the logic behind it. That did not make seeing her—standing there as though she still breathed—any less potent, did not make it any less painful.

With another kind grin, she moved to sit on the chaise and patted the cushion beside her. Only after a petulant eye-roll, which brought a laugh bubbling out of her, did he move to take the seat she offered.

"So?" Frigga shifted just enough to face her son. "Tell me what troubles you."

Loki's shoulders slumped and he just barely refrained from rolling his eyes, once more. "It is these wretched Midgardians! I am so close . . . it's nearly within my grasp, and then these two bumble along and suddenly . . . ." Forcing a gulp down his throat, he again dropped his gaze from her. "Suddenly I question my goal."

She nodded, reaching out to clasp one of his hands between both of hers. "Are you questioning because you think there may be a way to have both, or because you do not know if this goal is still something you desire to achieve?"

He scowled, but did not pull away from her affectionate gesture. "Having both is not possible, it simply is not. The sacrifice required . . . is not a thing up for negotiation. I cannot allow the koblet tre to flourish beyond this point. Even if only so they do not suffer afterward."

Loki paused, blinking hard as he gave his head a shake. Really? Was that what his misgivings were about? Not leaving his Midgardians to wallow in the pain of a broken koblet tre?

"So that is the problem, then? What you want has changed; there is nothing wrong with such a change."

His gaze snapped up to lock on hers. "Is there not? I have been selfish long enough, have I not, Mother?"

Arching a brow, she nodded. "One cannot deny the truth in your words, however . . . if protecting them could be a new goal for you, is it really so selfish?"

"Yes," he said, the word spilling from his lips without thought. "Because protecting them would make me happy. Worse, protecting them would ensure that you will never again be more than a memory."