When a God Falls (LokixFemaleReader) [COMPLETED]

25

Ok, so this one's kinda long-ish, and it's probably the last one I'll be uploading for a while since I'm on holiday with my family (again, I know). For anyone reading this in real time, I'm getting home on Sunday so I'll have a week before school really starts (at the moment it's just holiday homework for a few of my VCE subjects so it's not too bad) and once that all happens I don't know how much time I'll have to write/upload. 

Also, I'm probably gonna split this into two parts/books because at the moment it's looking to be about 50-60 chapters long (eek!) and that's a bit excessive. It's probably because I did so much more relationship/character/plot development than the first God-awful rendition of this fic and they didn't get together in the THIRD GODDAMN CHAPTER. Seriously, wtf was 2018 me thinking. 

Anyway, that was my little PSA, hope you're enjoying this! 

Oh yeah! TW for PTSD flashbacks, body image issues, and a mildly spicy scene (nothing too explicit but if you're not comfortable with makeout scene maybe just skim a bit, I'll put a little ✨ at the start and end). Idk if this is really a trigger for many people, but there's mentions of being drunk/drinking but nobody actually gets drunk... 

The weeks that follow feel like a blur. I spend most of the time practicing with Loki's knives, and it's not long before I can fend off an attacker without dropping my own weapon for a solid amount of time, though I've yet to penetrate Loki's defences.

Loki is gone a lot of the time, and he always bats away my questions about where so effortlessly that I forget I've even asked until much later. I don't miss the fact that he always leaves with a different set of clothes to the ones he comes home in too, although it could be coincidence. I can't help but think about Thor's concerns with Muspelheim and Loki's vague ideas about the future.

We decided that we'd wait a while to get married, and that we'd keep it relatively secret from the public. I don't know a lot about Asgardian customs and rituals, but from what I can gather they're not dissimilar from Earth's. And as time goes on, I can't help but wonder if we're doing the right thing.

I sigh, pulling a fresh match out of the box beside me and striking it. I breathe deeply, paying close attention to the feeling of the wooden floor beneath my hand. I watch the flame climbing higher up the little stick, the smoke curling above it and the blackening of the pale wood. My heart beats faster, and the smoke smell grows more intense.

"I'm in Asgard." I say firmly to myself. "I'm sitting on the floor in Asgard. I am holding a match, and I'm not in danger."

I take another deep breath, holding it for a minute then blowing out the match. I repeat my mantra as the sharp tang of the smoke in the air makes my head swim, but I manage to keep my breathing regular and my heart beat normal. I smile, I'm getting better at it.

I stand up, scraping the 20 or so burnt matches from the ground around me and shoving them into the box. I'll empty it later. Ever since the night I had the first flashback, I've been trying to get better at smelling smoke and staying calm. At first, Loki would hold my hand and talk to me if I needed it, but the last few times I've done it by myself. I figured it wouldn't be practical to have a breakdown every time I smelled smoke.

There's a knock at the door, and I jump. It opens to reveal Loki, who smiles when he sees me. He crosses the room and wraps an arm around my waist, dipping me backwards. He pulls me up and kisses my cheek, still smiling.

"What was that for?" I laugh, running a hand through my hair.

"Everything is going well, my dear. My plans are all falling into place, I'm going to marry the woman I love, and I have a good feeling about the future."