I stand on the ledge for a while after Nebula leaves, eventually descending down to the lake shore to sit and watch the water. The wind has picked up strength and I feel droplets of water gently misting my face, the iciness of the water welcome on my skin.

Shortly after arriving back in Asgard, I had come up here, looking for solace and hoping for Gamora. I sat here for a while, watching the water, remembering the last time I had been up here with her, when she had asked me to run and I had told her no.

In that moment, I wished violently I had run with her, left Asgard behind for a new life that didn't involve Odin, Thanos, or the Contest of Champions. Then I wouldn't feel this dull ache, the emptiness that comes from losing your best friend. Desperately, I thought back to that moment before I left Asgard for Titan, when Gamora had come to say goodbye and I had held her. But where that memory had given me strength during the Contest, now it only brought me pain.

"Hey."

Her voice startled me and I turned swiftly, glancing at her standing behind me. Gamora just looked at me with her dark eyes, tilting her head slightly so her red tinged black wavy hair fell to the side. The silver implants set in her green skin glittered in the light.

She wore black leggings and a dark scoop neck shirt layered over a thin white one. Her combat boots wrapped around her legs up to her knees, her sword on her belt next to her gun. She didn't used to carry a gun before.

"Gamora," I said softly, not sure what else to say. There was so much I wanted to tell her but there were no words and no time. So I just looked at her.

"Loki," she said back, taking a step toward me, scattering a few pebbles with her boots as she moved. My eyes dropped at the sound of the slight scraping of rocks, focusing on their movement instead of on her. I saw the toes of her boots stop, several feet in front of me, and I dragged my eyes up to meet hers. But still, I had no words. Not even my presumed silvertongue could save me now.

Everything lay between us, blockading me from her. The Contest, Veers, my victory, and yes, even that shattered moment we shared before I departed. Even if I had won, the timeline didn't exist yet that would accept our broken embrace and never would. Even cold space, crystallizing across our skin, would reject the pieces of that moment. It wasn't a puzzle to be put together again, it was a puzzle to be discarded and the pieces lost in oblivion. But still, I had a faint hope the pieces would be found again, the naïve hope of emotion and feeling, the hope that later is what bleeds you dry because you fostered it in your heart, nurturing it in your attempt to grow a rose when all you're really growing is thorns.

"I am glad you won."

"Funny, I didn't get that impression when I returned," I said, the words coming out harsher than I had intended them to be. Her eyes hardened slightly.

"That doesn't mean I wish you dead."

I wasn't sure what to say next, so I looked down, waiting for her to leave. Then I felt her fingers on my cheek, cool and soft, and then they shifted under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet hers again. I internally braced myself for some sort of attack, knowing that Gamora could show her anger at me now, we were outside and out of the view of anyone who would judge her outburst.

But the attack didn't come.

"Why are you here?" I asked, reaching up and removing her hand from my face. I wanted to twine my fingers with hers but I didn't, I just released her hand and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I needed to talk to you."

"You made it very clear on the bridge we had nothing to talk about," I said. "Or have you forgotten?"

Gamora's face hardened, eyes narrowed. "That was your decision."

"I just wanted to survive," I said softly. "I wanted to survive, to come home. But I suppose that wasn't enough for you, was it? Couldn't just come home alive and be welcomed, huh? What did I have to do to please you? What more do you want of me? I did whatever it took to come home, and I understand –"

Then Gamora moved forward, didn't stop in front of me but kept going, and her lips touched mine.

All of my anger evaporated and so did every other thought in my mind. All I knew was that Gamora was kissing me, her body pressed against mine, arms around my neck, fingers in my hair. I held her to me, returning her kiss, my arms across her lower back.

I never knew a kiss could feel like that.

Then she drew back and I met her gaze, slightly confused and not sure at all what to make of her in that moment. "I was prepared to do whatever it took," Gamora said, her voice low. "But I know that whatever it takes, it'll never be enough."

She walked away then, and hasn't spoken to me since.

I think back on that kiss now as I absently pick up pebbles from beside me and hurl them into the water, watching the ripples spread out from the place of impact. She hadn't kissed me to declare any feelings for me, or to forgive me. She had kissed me to bid farewell to any fancies either of us had had about a relationship, about love. Both of us have to accept that if our friendship was unorthodox, a romance between us would be forbidden and censored by the world around us. Or worse. A daughter of Thanos and a son of Odin could never...love.

Love.

Love has been a concept that has been shoved into my life even before winning the Contest. The relationship between Veers and I made many believe we were in love, but I didn't believe that. I still don't. I know I don't love her, and I know she doesn't love me. We were friends, could have been good friends, but nothing more.

But here I am, stuck in a loveless relationship with her for the entire galaxy to see while my best friend walks out of my life because love has become impossible.

I hate love.

Standing, I sigh, staring at the palace across the lake. I need to head back now, to prepare for the Champion Tour and get Gamora out of my head.

She kissed you only in farewell. Say goodbye to her, let her go.

I start back toward the bridge, enjoying my last chance to be in my beloved mountains until I return again to Asgard. But I've found the mountains aren't so alive without Gamora by my side.

Crossing the bridge, I hurry up to the palace and step inside. Immediately, I'm hit with the feel of busyness. Normally, Asgard's palace is quiet and empty, but not today. With everything that is happening today, of course my mother's got the palace buzzing.

"Loki!" Frigga's voice cuts through the air and I turn to see her hurrying toward me. "There you are. Veers said you went for a walk?"

I nod. "I did. I just wanted some fresh air."

"Will you go down to the champions' wing and make sure Valkyrie is ready?" Frigga asks. "I've already sent Veers to find Hela. Thor is the only one around right now. I think he's excited to see Jane again." And with that, my mother smiles and sweeps away, intent on making everything perfect for today.

I start toward the champions' wing, the bustle and preparation making the approaching tour seem that much nearer than it had while I was outside. As I leave the main area, however, the amount of activity seems to die down until finally, it's silent.

Reaching the champions' wing, I glance up at Valkyrie's door, the first door on the left. After a moment of contemplating just going to my room and staying there until I am forced to get ready, I sigh and knock briskly on the door. Might as well get it over with.

"Who's there?" Valkyrie's voice demands.

"It's Loki," I call back. "My mother sent me."

There's a moment of silence before "Come in."

I push open the door and step into her chambers, feeling my muscles tense up. Valkyrie's room was always considered a forbidden area ever since she won the Contest and took up drinking. She was the last of the core group of Avengers to enter the Contest, winning just like the five before her. I vaguely remember her Contest; Thor, Gamora, Nebula, and I all watched it, Sif, Volstagg, and Fandrul often joining us. But Frigga was careful as to how much we were allowed to watch while Odin stared blankly at the screen, a haunting sorrow filling his eyes and every wrinkle in his features.

In the end, Valkyrie had won, killing a Kree contender in order to emerge as the champion. She did what I was supposed to do.

Valkyrie's sitting before the fire, a half-full bottle of alcohol in her hand as she stares meditatively into the flames. Or maybe she's just really drunk.

"Valkyrie," I say as I come up on her left, purposefully detouring slightly to ensure she can see me in her peripheral vision. I do not intend to give her any reason to attack me by coming up from behind.

She glances over at me, her dark skin bare without the white paint streaks she wears around her eyes, her hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Her eyes are dark, haunted, but then the look dies as she narrows them, lifting the bottle to her lips.

"Ah, Loki," she says after taking a sip, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Champion Tour day, right?"

I nod. "My mother wishes to know if you are ready," I say stiffly. "That is all."

Valkyrie sets the bottle down. "She should be asking if you're ready, Lackey."

"Loki," I say emphatically. "It's Loki, not Lackey."

Valkyrie just shrugs. "It's the same thing at this point."

I glance around her chair, trying to see how many empty bottles there are. "The difference is that a lackey is a servant whereas Loki is a name, and the name of the prince of Asgard and the champion of the thirty-sixth Contest of Champions."

"One of them, anyway," Valkyrie mutters. "By the way, are you and your girlfriend ready to take up the game of love again?"

Footsteps echo behind me and we both turn to see Veers walking in, stiffening as she catches Valkyrie's last sentence. "How hard could it be?" the Kree still manages to say with an indifferent shrug, avoiding my gaze.

My stomach twists. After falling into a friendship to replace our show at love, I had forgotten that we would need to play the game again. But in a short while, cameras will be looking for our love when both of us know damn well we left it with the daggers we drew on each other in the arena.

Well, I suppose we'll have to find it again now.

"Yes," I add. "We were in love before, and so we shall be again."

Valkyrie snorts. "Oh, won't this be fun? I hope you two are up for this. Now get out."

Veers and I exchange a look, Veers biting her bottom lip. I've seldom seen her do that, only since coming here to Asgard. I know she wants to be back in Hala, with her people. But no, she's here, with me, and neither of us has the power to change that.

"Your father's looking for you," Veers tells me as we exit Valkyrie's room. "He's outside the throne room."

"You mean in," I correct.

"No, I mean outside," Veers insists.

That's odd. Why would Odin wait outside the throne room instead of within, perched upon his golden throne as a reminder that I would never sit there? In fact, the throne is reserved for Thor, my brother, who has been spending the last couple months with my father as he learns everything he needs to know to ascend the throne of Asgard and assume rule from Odin.

And I'm left with my brother's worn position as a mentor for the future contenders from Asgard.

However, Thor is coming with us on the tour, "one last triumph," he told me, before he assumes the throne. He doesn't have to go, unlike Valkyrie, though, because he's entered the protected position of leader. He may not be king yet, but since he's intended to take the crown, he's as good as already sitting on the throne.

I find Odin standing outside the throne room doors, hands clasped behind his back. He attempts a smile as I approach but it's half-hearted. "Loki," he greets.

"Father," I return. "Veers says you wished to see me?"

Since the Contest, Odin has sought to mend the crooked thing our relationship has always been. But I'm not sure I believe his efforts, despite when he tells me he's proud of me. I've spent too many years as Thor's shadow, I'm not ready to be dispelled by the light.

Odin hesitates, eyes flickering toward the door. "You are wanted in the throne room."

I frown, furrowing my brow. "By who? Thor? Surely not my sister."

Odin grimaces at that, but whether it's the image of Hela holding court in the throne room or who's really waiting for me that prompts the expression, I don't know. Before he had declared Thor as his successor, Odin had had a long talk with Hela that had ended up with someone – most likely my questionably sane sister – breaking a piece off of the mural on the ceiling in anger. When next I had entered, the broken piece was nowhere to be seen, but on the ceiling amid the painting of my family, a wolf's head was barely visible, staring down at us with his green eye.

Surprisingly, Hela hadn't pursued the topic and I suspect she knew Odin would never give her the throne of Asgard. They were too different, one weighed down by sorrow and the other buoyed up by bitterness. While Odin's past choked him, defeated him, Hela's seemed to give her energy, to elevate her. I suppose that's what happens when you're the goddess of death; the stench of failure smells sweet and refreshing.

That's not to say my sister loves to lose; she hates it. But while losing to Thanos in the Infinity War all but killed my father, it only emboldened my sister, sending her to Sakaar to launch a rebellion against Thanos. But her endgame failed, too, and now she works for Thanos, killing Skrulls out in space.

"You will see," is all Odin tells me, gesturing to the door resignedly. I shoot him a glance and step forward, pushing the large doors open.

The first thing I see it the empty bottle flying at me.

/**/

Man, I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed writing this book.

Sorry for the late update, last weekend studying for finals kept me busy and I just couldn't find the time to edit it yesterday. But at last it's up! What did you think?

I hope you enjoyed it; thanks for reading!

Skylar Wittenborn