Loki's fall (sequel to loss and Loki)

Heaven's grief brings hell's rain

LOKI'S POV

My stomach turned uncomfortably when I felt myself grounded again and I took in an unsteady breath, resenting the familiar worry that clouded my mind as the surroundings of Aurora's house swam back into view.

Every damn time, leaving never got easier and neither did coming back. Especially when there was always that one part of me that believed I would find her dead. Murdered whilst I was away settling disputes and ignoring the other realms in their cries for help. Why did the Allfather have to care for all the other realms when his loyalty lay with Valhalla and Asgard. Surely Musplheim or Vanaheim could afford to appoint their own ruler and peacemaker.

Midgard clearly had already, In the form of a band of irritating heroes that surprisingly enough, do well to fight off every other worldly threat that they're handed.

Raoul and Kustaar did well to keep the peace when I was away, as my most loyal guards and trusted acquaintances. They served me well and lay down their lives for me. I didn't have to question my own trust for them when I knew they'd sooner launch themselves from the bifrost than ever disobey my demands.

But of course, sometimes there were problems that they were incapable of handling, so as much as I hated to leave her side, I knew it was necessary with everything that could be threatening us right now. Ragnarok, Thor and...him.

Thankfully everything seemed peaceful enough every time I visited. Asgard was flourishing and people were thriving under my new rule. Society was progressing at an astounding rate and a new sense of free expression had befallen the residents of the kingdom and all the villages. I wasn't sure I'd remembered the dungeons being so empty in all my years I'd lived in Asgard. Everything was good.

....

Everything on Asgard was good.

Midgard however....

I still hadn't managed to crack this strange icy tension she'd so skilfully crafted between us, forged in Frosty stares and crippling indifference she fed through the short clipped answers she'd give me. It was painful enough, and I'd have probably grown tired of it by now had I not known the reason behind it, or been so invested in her from the start.

It infuriated me and I found myself growing more and more desperate by the day, to have her back with me and back to normal. Especially after all the time I'd been gone, after that two years where I'd convinced myself to erase every drop of her memory in my mind because I would never see her again. And then I'd come back to her and everything inside of me had crumbled. I'd given everything up then and there, knowing I'd never be able to survive such a long time away from her like that again. Knowing I'd never let her go again now I'd remembered what it felt like. What she felt like.

But I had to give her time.

She'd been different ever since I brought her back from the place she'd been stolen away to. Unsurprisingly but still painfully enough, she'd been just...different. She'd always held a wariness where I was concerned anyway but this was a whole other level. Every time our eyes met, her glance bled with a paralysing disappointment. But not disappointment at me rather disappointment for me.

And then I'd touch her and she'd watch me carefully, a masked fear streaking across her eyes as she looked at me like each fingertip on my skin was the red quivering dot of a performing sniper aiming at my forehead, and every caress I'd lay upon her was another breath of life stolen from me until I was naught but a lifeless corpse in her frail arms.

She shot glowers that pierced straight through me with all the ionising power of emotion that leaked out behind it when she looked over. Her iris' glared red between the smudged mascara skin in blatant, bloody warning against all that we both sinfully desired. A blood red warning for me, a blood red warning for her.