Loki's Downfall

IV

My eyes grow wide and Loki's narrow as he looks around for the new voice too. I curse under my breath, completely forgetting about Luka. Loki can't know we have this child!

It doesn't matter that I'm unprepared to face this, Luka finds me in the palace. I'm the only one right now that can see him as he floats by the terrace. "Mother!" He says happily as he floats down to the floor and skips over to give me a hug. As he touches me, he glows golden like I do, revealing himself to Loki by pure accident.

I look to Him as Luka hugs me, and his eyes are still narrowed at him. He hasn't seen Luka's face yet.

But as Luka turns to his father, Loki's eyes widen. I knew he'd react this way, Luka looks just like him. Loki looking at this boy is probably like looking at a mirror, even though Luka is only nine years old (although it's been more than nine years since Luka and I died. He ages slower as a spirit, I'm not sure why).

Luka smiles at Loki. He knows who he is, he knows his father. I quickly make him turn back towards me. "Luka, sweetie, I'll be home in a bit. Uh, go play with your friends for a while more, alright?" I request, and he happily complies, running for the terrace again without another word.

Loki watches his son as he flies out the window. I assume it's not the fact that Luka's another ghost that's dumbfounding him. I stare at the ground for a moment as I wait for him to confront it. It takes a while but...

He points outside as he looks at me again. "That was...me!" He says with disbelief. I feel my face grow warm but I know, in this state, he can't see I'm blushing.

Loki suddenly holds his head as if he's blocking out an ear shattering noise. "I want to remember you. You're not just one of Frigga's 'friends.'" He accuses. I hold my breath and shrug. He raises his eyebrows at me, expecting an explanation.

I roll my eyes and sigh, "Okay a little more like a daughter to Frigga, maybe..." Loki looks to the side, trying to remember again, I can tell because of how frustrated he appears. I then tell him to sit down as I explain our whole story.

***

Seeing his facial expressions through the whole tale makes me self conscious. There were two things in his eyes the entire time I spoke: disbelief and confusion. But, Luka's the proof that I'm not just some random crazy ghost.

The only thing Loki remembered of me before was how I looked, he told me about his dreams. I wish there was more included, but Odin's spell really did a number on him especially, like it was supposed to, I admit.

"Odin is the only one that still knows about me. If you could speak with him again, I-" I pause abruptly as I sit next to him on the bed. Not as close as I used to, there was a fair distance between us this time. My statement about Odin makes Loki tear his gaze from me and he stares at the ground. I don't dare say anything more about it...

Being reunited with Loki (halfway at least) is not all I thought it would be. I thought that if I could just talk to him again, then maybe he'd remember me. I mean everything about me. But here we are...and there's nothing.

I watch him for a while, and my mind spins. I start asking myself insane questions. Am I really in love with Loki anymore? Even if his memories were there, would we love each other like we used to? How could I still love him after all the trouble he's caused? How could anyone in all the realms?

Just as I lose all the hope and my mind starts to close on the idea, Loki reaches over and attempts to grab my hand, but his hand falls through the shape of my own onto the bed. I see a cloud of golden fog where my hand used to be as Loki pulls his away and crosses his arms, hunching over his knees and staring at the ground. This is almost how he looked on the day I died.

I can't help but smile at him. At the idea of him. It doesn't matter if he really touched me or not, when he reached for me my heart skipped a beat. That's why I love him, there's still good in him. It might be buried deep, deep down, and it may take a world of confusion and longing to get him to show it...but it's still in him.

It's like his memory of me: Barely there, and it's just enough.