Now, I've never been prone to fainting, but it happens, right?

Surely it happens. Perhaps, as a first-timer of sorts, things are supposed to be a bit more intense for me. You know, instead of seeing stars, seeing the entire galaxy rush by you?

I don't know when I decided to close my eyes, but I do know that when I stopped spinning a few seconds ago, I wasn't all there just yet. No, I think I'm losing it, actually. Because...

Well, it's quiet.

Quiet enough that, despite the embarrassingly loud attempts to catch my breath, I have to acknowledge that I've settled. And perhaps the very prospect that I could be anywhere other than that stupid farm is the reason why my eyes refuse to open again.

Because — god, because I'm hearing things. Things I shouldn't be. And when I relax for a second, I can hear it so clearly that my mind won't let me deny it.

There's a faint sound of waves crashing in the distance.

With a deep breath in, I supposed the sight of whatever is under my feet would give me the profundity with the least bit of damage. I can at least admit that I've been moved somewhere, and this would be to simply confirm that fact, and nothing further. A little peek can't hurt. Not unless...

"Oh, fuck."

Well, not unless this — the furthest thing imaginable from tall grass, compost, and the risk for Lymes disease.

Solid, regally designed, gold.

Looking down at my feet, my breathing began to pick up again, coming out heavy and harsh.

Oh, I absolutely shouldn't be here. This absolutely, definitely should not be allowed.

And, yet...

Ever so slowly, I began to lift my head up, adjusting to the daylight that was only more blinding with the accompanying golden dome around me. The very same structure that encased me countless times, listening to my pleas to leave, and withstanding my strategies for escape. And now, perhaps too humble to relish in the irony of it all.

No, there was no more denying it. And as if every sense of mine knew by now their need to compensate for how deeply my mind could convince myself otherwise, my eyes began blinking with a purpose, prompting one of my hands to hover just under my forehead. Because the telltale of my reality took the form of the tallest building on the horizon, the palace standing formidably beyond the chromatic bridge, if not simply because it's the bearings of the one man in this universe that I can't lie to, whether it be about him or myself.

I know I have every reason to hate that palace. The audacity of it. The pretentiousness of it. But, god.

Before I could take a step forward, I heard another sound almost just as foreign as those waves were.

I'm laughing. Softly and to myself, but I can't stop it if I tried. In fact, my arm dropped to my side as I surrendered to it, shamelessly.

It worked.

It fucking worked. It shouldn't have. I shouldn't-

It doesn't matter. Because I'm here. I'm here. And for some god damned reason, Heimdall thinks I should be too.

Heimdall.

When I have the time to compile the list of everything I owe him, I'll be sure to double the reward of my every transgression. Our relationship is profoundly unfair to him, definitely unjust to the rest of the world, but for now, I don't think I would make it any better if I didn't get a move on.

It's just a little tough to focus when this smile won't leave me alone.

"Right. Okay." I shook my head, managing to catch my breath and focus on my surroundings. The sight of the Bifrost sword and the still whirling, open portal may be the best place to start. "Okay, yeah, shit, okay..."

However, rounding the platform, I stumbled upon a sight I hadn't seen before.

Skurge, lying unconscious on the ground.

In some weak attempt to be decent, I managed to barely cover my mouth. But, I do have a distant memory of asking Heimdall, if the situation ever presented itself, to do just this. Not that I actually think he would ever do it, but alas...

"Okay, okay....okay, okay..." I reprimanded myself, every syllable sounding like a laugh as I tried my earnest best to ignore him. Unfortunately, Skurge's limp body may have gotten in the way of my foot as I walked up the platform. Maybe a few times.

Reaching for the sword, I turned it just as I've watched both of them do before, successfully closing the portal to the outside worlds.

And with no hesitation, it seems, to my last way out.

Right.

Yeah, yeah this is good, Safiya. This is great.

If anyone were around, I would probably look psychotic with how often I'm speaking to myself, especially with the nonsense of "great, this is great. This is good," now being murmured under my breath. But that was merely an afterthought.

I took a deep breath, turning to look out towards the palace again. For some reason, the first tangible thought I had was the remembrance of how small these structures always made me feel. The dome, the palace...they're tall, but they tower. They've seemed unconquerable sometimes.

And yet, I know this journey I'm about to take. In between the palace and I is a busy town square. There's civilization, a forest, and farmland, and other terrains I'm bound to get lost in. It takes forever, and this bridge doesn't offer much motivation to start, but when have I never run down this bridge as if my life depends on it?

This is real. I'm here, and I'm doing it.

So I did. Breaching the dome, the shade of it was peeled away as the warmth of the sun found me again. It rested high in the sky, of which was clear and blue, encouraging the songs of the birds, some small as those that serenade you in the morning and others as large as prey in the wild, to fly as free as they were. They soared around me, some daring to dip under the bridge and glide across the powerful sea below me, whose authoritative gusts of wind and the slight saltiness of its spray rushed through my hair and propelled me forward.

I walked fast, then faster, until it was just awkward enough that I had to start running.

Streaks of penetrative light soaked the forest floor through the treetops. It was gold, I'm sure of it. In a place like this, with a spring this magical, I would believe it. And the smell of it so quintessential, like fresh wood that could only exist if manufactured into a candle scent. I could hear rivers and waterfalls that were kept secret and remote, and as I ran harder through the trees, their essence only made the air more cool, crisp, clean.

But there, at the forest's end, laid the open land that vowed to steal my affections away the very moment I emerged from the trees. It coated my lungs with warmth and the consequent ability to gasp at the unimaginable serenity of the field laid in front of me. It was extraordinarily lush...fake, right? God, it had to be. Because I've never known anything this beautiful to be this real. It tempted me to lay down, to forget my pursuit for just a moment if only to feel the softness of the grass that graced my ankles as a pillow under my head. The flowers grew unbridled and without any limits, and the scent, the incredible scent seemed existent only to lure everything just as wild. I found myself, here, amidst the most beautiful manifestation of spring I've ever seen, running with the horses.

He would tell me about this sometimes. It would be as if he were waiting for me to make just the smallest comment about being cold so he would have an excuse to talk about it, and I see why now. He'd say that springtime in Asgard has the power to cease the grim reaper. Persuade him to rest. And I would wonder, days later, how many of these springs saved him. 

This was always and only after comments about being cold, though. And as instantly as that point began to register, hesitance seeped into my bones, and I found my pace had slowed down to some sort of half-witted jog.

The city had come into view a few minutes ago. Just on the horizon. If anything, it was a symbol of how well I had been doing, and how far I'd gotten without thinking too hard. I simply stared at it now, and it back at me.

How long have I been gone?

I know time works differently here, but I don't know any details about that. I do know, however, that, what couldn't have been more than a week ago...I was cold.

I'm walking now. I'm thankful to whatever is keeping me moving at all, because, well, a whole season has passed, and I don't know what is waiting for me beyond that city.  

I couldn't last a few days before running back here. This, though...this is a month or two.

Jesus Christ, Safiya. Does he even want you here?

To be honest, I hadn't really considered...Well, this had been an entirely selfish return from the start. But I didn't think he would...or I didn't consider the possibility that he may have...

Moved on?

I nearly paled. Moved on? After all that? After putting me through that?

No. No, I don't think he could ever hate me any more than he already has, right? He wouldn't. No. Because if he did I wouldn't — I would...God, I'd...

I'd kill him.

Yeah. Yeah, there's nothing to be scared about. When I get up there, I either kiss him or kill him. What's new, right?

Right. Yeah, okay.

Forcing my legs forward and to move a bit more quickly, I watched the city get bigger and clearer to the eye. Despite anticipating some time to sort through my thoughts, I was at the border in no time, with no conclusions other than the fact that I can't remember a time I've ever felt so uncertain about anything in my life.

Holy shit. I'm terrified. I'm absolutely fucking terrified.

Standing on the border where the grass meets cobblestone, my lovely mind offered me another thing to consider. With perfect timing, as always.

Would these people recognize me?

Well, I've never been in tune with the public opinion on my presence there. Frankly, I don't think I was that important to warrant an opinion at all. There could maybe be some rumors that I have an affinity for older men and enjoy the company of one specifically. But...well, if I were to think about anything that I've done that may have, you know, really affected them...they may remember that I'm the person that Loki burnt this entire city down for some time ago.

They may have grounds to hate me, definitely.

But a season has passed. Perhaps they, too, have moved on.

What's surprising is how few steps I had to take until I saw civilization. Before, the outskirts of the city were long and idle, quiet with less conventional vendors and more local services. Now, however, it didn't take two minutes before I found myself maneuvering the way through a bustling marketplace flooded with people.

It was midday, as far as I could gather. The sun was high in the sky, every store that could offer a business was open, and the fruit and flower vendors were quickly replenishing their stands from a seemingly successful morning run. There were palace maids and kitchen staff running about to complete their last bit of errands for the day. The women, who wore thin, flowy, and if you'd believe it, comfortable dresses, were out for what seemed like simply just the pleasure of being so, carrying woven baskets that were filled to the brim with books, produce, and herbs.

There were older children in school uniforms walking about, seemingly on their noon breaks. Some were taking lunch with their friends, or playing with the smaller children in the street on their way between stores, and others were trying their luck at the pubs. I can't say I saw a successful occurrence. After all, the pubs were alive, loud, and filled with laughter from Asgardians who clearly didn't mind the time. They only cared about singing along to the music being played just outside by a man with a fiddle, whose tune carried through the air of the entire square.

Frankly, I haven't seen this many people smiling and laughing with each other in years.

Asgard has moved on. Even for me, it's difficult to remember this very place as it was a little while ago. Utterly, destroyed, and engulfed in flames. And I dared, just for a second, to stress that it was caused by Loki and I, for if this is the example of what phoenix could rise from our fire, then perhaps there is a little hope for something prospering from all we've burnt between us.

Granted, these were the assurances I needed to come in with, but I'll take what I can get. The palace wasn't too far now, and I'd almost made it halfway before I had to admit that, yes, the people of Asgard may do indeed recognize me. I was apologizing quite often as I navigated through the streets, stepping around and behind people to get by. And when I was close enough, I could hear gasps and murmurs of my name as if it were a curse that can't be spoken too loud.

If this culture of posh and pretension was good for anything, it's that no one was so indecent enough to point or stare, and when I had lifted my head and caught their eye by mistake, they would at least try to smile. Despite it being exceptionally awkward, I just had to ignore it and keep going. Keeping my head down, and not drawing more attention than what was justified–

Of course, that would all go to shit if I happened to crash right into someone and send their basket of flowers to the ground.

That would be just the worst thing to happen to me right now.

Figuring I could carve out sometime later to curse myself out for this, I didn't waste much time before I was leaning down and gathering some stems that had fallen. I sighed as I began to look up, honestly dreading how many eyes would be on me now. "Hi, I'm sorry about that. I wasn't really looking where I was—"

For a moment, I couldn't remember why or what I was dreading, because the sight in front of me now, was utterly delightful.

Kari.

She looked like she had been rushing around for the better part of the morning. She'd taken off a layer of her clothing and there were a few loose pieces of her blonde hair that had escaped from the braid. And yet, upon recognizing just who I was, the smile on her face went from being a courtesy to a full-blown high.

With a squeal that did little to contain itself, Kari carelessly threw her basket into the hands of the girl standing behind her. And with her arms now free, she threw them around me. "Oh my, oh my gods, Safiya, it's you! It's really you! You really came back!"

'Hi! Hi, yes," I smiled, but quickly started to concern myself with how much air I must have left with her tightening around me more with each second. "Yeah, it's me. How are y—"

"Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my—Oh, Safiya we woke up and you were gone. Gone!" She shouts over the crowd around us, and right into my ear. "Can you imagine what everyone was thinking? Do you know the amount of gossip I had to put out? They really thought he finally killed you!"

Looking over Kari's shoulder at the girl who was now carrying her basket, it was difficult not to take notice of how still she was standing, and how wide her eyes were as she stared at me, almost exactly like she's seen a ghost. My head tiltest just the slightest. "Did you just say finally?"

With a small sound of glee, Kari stepped back so we were face to face again, her eyes still smiling despite going a little wider. "Not my words, of course. They just don't know any better."

What is knowing better? Who is they?

Blinking a few times, I managed to shake my head and attempt a better smile on my face. "Nothing on you, Kari."

"You can't blame them, really. Gods, you were at each other's necks that night." Suddenly, her eyebrows pinched together and she leans in, her voice falling to a whisper. "That may be a little insensitive. Rest in peace, of course." While my eyes bulged a little, Kari put her hands together quickly in prayer, one that didn't last two seconds before she was grabbing onto my forearms and starting up again. "

"Oh my, I never thought you'd be back. I mean, you couldn't even if you wanted-wait, how did you get here? Oh, I don't really care! You're here! And thank the gods, because I don't think they'd last any longer." She took a deep sigh, shaking her head. "All of us were practically in mourning! We've been keeping your room just how you left it, and - you know, Laini says it's morbid, and I agree, but no one is going against Lok-uh, the King's orders right now. I mean, do you know what happens when someone even mentions your name? Ugh! Forget it. I shouldn't have even gotten started..." Despite not wanting to get started, she proceeded to do so, "on that stubborn, bull-headed, mad man! He won't even leave his chambers long enough for me to clean it, and oh, imagine if I try to do my bloody job. I've had a teacup thrown at me! With tea still in it! I think it's about time we claim that he's gone a bit mad, yeah?"

Kari half-heartedly turns to the girl behind her for confirmation, but all she could manage, still staring stiff as a board, was a small nod. Honestly, if she knows that I'm not a ghost, I'm under the impression that she thinks I might be one in a few minutes.

Flicking my eyes between her and Kari, I tilted my head again. "Is he going to kill me?"

"Well, you've certainly driven him well past insane! Perhaps a little longer and he may have killed us all." For some reason, as my eyes only got wider, Kari's grew more delighted. "Oh goodness, Safiya, I'm so happy to see you. You have no idea. You must come shop around here with me sometime."

I've never been so eager to do something, all of a sudden. "How about now?"

Kari starts to laugh, and I can't find what's funny. "Imagine what he would do if he knew you were here and I was the one that was keeping you? Oh, no, no, no. You have to go. For all of our sakes."

I've never wanted to do anything less, all of a sudden. "If I'm not physically thrown out of this realm in the next few minutes, I'd love to have breakfast tomorrow and catch up."

She looked at me, then, like I was the sweetest thing she's ever seen. And maybe I could believe it with the way her eyes got so incredibly soft. "I won't hold you to plans tomorrow. If you go up there, I don't think you're going to make it out of his hands."

"Kari!" What the hell did I do to her? "Am I going to die?"

Shamelessly, Kari's laughing to herself again, and throwing her arms around me once more. "Oh, Safiya, you're delusional." What do they say about a pot and a kettle..."I cannot believe you came back. I am so so happy you're back."

When she finally releases me, I've fully considered the idea that perhaps they've all gone mad. Because Kari's smiling and giggling, but her eyes are pricking wet with amusement and she's sniffling, bringing the back of her hand up to her nose....Is she crying?

"Oh, I'm a mess now." With a particularly loud sigh, Kari turns to grab the basket from the girl behind her, taking it back into her arms. "Go to him. Please." Before I could react, she's pushing me forward. "Go, go, go."

"Kari - " but as I turned around to see her, she was already a few feet away.

"And if you bump into anyone else," she adds, shouting over the noise of the city square, "ignore them!"

With a wave, Kari and her assistant of sorts were lost into the sea of the crowd, and I was frozen still, like an obstacle for the current. And seeing as I've been enough of a disturbance here, I suppose moving would actually be the right thing to do.

Even if I'm scared out of my mind.

There were a few things along the way that didn't help. Granted, the palace guards must know more about me than the civilians do, so I neared closer to, the recognition I was given was a bit more animated. Guards that were simply out for a stroll would stop moving altogether, their eyes wide and following me as I passed by. Others would gape, a few would actually trip over their feet. But it was as I reached the palace, settling myself at the base of the incredibly grand staircase before the main doors, that I was met with true surprise.

The guards, the fifty that lined each step, had absolutely no idea what to do with the sight of me. Quite frankly, I was just as unsure as they were. I didn't test my luck with a step forward and none of them moved as much as a shift to the other foot.

So, naturally, we all stood, staring at each other, perhaps thinking about all the times I've threatened their lives.

I could have turned around if it went on a second later. I really could have. But someone began to approach the top of the stairs from the inside, its figure becoming more clear with each step forward. And when he breached the doors to settle himself at the top step, I could distinguish him, clearly, as my most unlikely savior.

Destin and I have had a rocky start. Well, it started with me driving a knife through his shoulder. That definitely should have been the end of our relationship, I agree. But unfortunately, we both have a mutual in common that we both care about, a bit too deeply for our own good. And Kahlil had been insistent that we at least pretend to forgive and forget.

Without a word, Destin stared down at me, his eyebrows pinched together as if he wasn't even too sure himself of what he was seeing. But upon his look of realization, I decided to break the very awkward and rather tense silence among us all.

"Hi."

For just a few seconds, the silence lasted. Fifty-one pairs of eyes simply watched me slowly forget my purpose. That is, until Destin broke out into a laugh, shaking his head to himself.

"Oh, gods," he laughed harder, now waving at me to come up the steps. "Please, a bit of pep in your step, if you will. The sooner you're in there, the sooner these show tunes stop." At that, the guards reacted quickly, parting themselves to allow me a passage. Destin was fully humored now. "Yeah, yeah, that's right. Let her through."

One step at a time, I began to climb, keeping my head straight until I reached the top, standing close enough next to Destin that only he could hear me. "I don't know what that means."

"And pray that you never will." With the extension of his arm, he ushered me inside the palace and passed the tens of guards circling to watch from inside. "It's a pleasure to see you, Safiya. You look well."

While moving through the entrance hall at a much quicker pace than I had anticipated, I peered at him through the side of my eye. "Do I?"

"Now, why would I have a reason to lie?"

"You know," I rolled my eyes to myself, "you wouldn't believe it, but I have a weird suspicion I'm being lured into some kind of trap."

"You don't say."

"Well, Kari's said the King has gone quite insane. And now, following someone who doesn't really care much of whether I live or die, I feel like I'm being happily escorted to my death."

I thought I saw him grin for a moment. "Mind you, you are absolutely a sacrifice."

"Ah. I thought so."

"A sacrifice to the gods."

"That's funny."

He rounded a corner to leave the main hall, and unfortunately, I followed. "I might even go as far as to lock you in that room to make sure you don't leave again."

"It's a shame I don't have any sharp objects on me," I deadpanned, feeling his side-eye quickly search me. I grinned myself. "How's Kahlil?"

Laughing to himself, he made sure I knew it was a joke I wasn't in on. "You can make it up to us later this week. I'm picking the most expensive thing on the menu under your tab."

Before I could ask where he is, a loud and persistent pair of footsteps rounded into our hall and started towards us.

"Holy shit, they weren't lying." Sif, clad in full armor despite the relaxing day out, smiled at me like I was the funniest thing she's seen in a long time. She skipped right over greetings, nonetheless. "Let's go. Quicker."

Ah, Asgardian hospitality.

At this point, my legs were starting to hurt. "Do you actually all hate me?"

She completely ignores me, coming to fall into our pace on my other side. "Fucking hell. I'm not sitting through another matinee."

Destin sighs. "If you go at night, you just have to show your face and slip right out. You're there for ten minutes, at most."

"Yeah, that's the problem. Everyone goes at night and not enough show up during the day. Then there's no one to write a review about it, and then he gets existential, and then he's throwing teacups at Kari-"

"She told you about that?"

"I think she might write it in the paper at this point."

"I really appreciate the escort guys, "as much as it pains me to break this up, I was able to push through it rather quickly, "but I think I've reached the point where I just need to know where he is."

They both stopped walking before I took notice that they did, turning around a few steps in front of them to find them both looking at me.

Destin sighs, coming to clasp his hands behind his back. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Swallowing, I did my best to look sure of myself. But honestly, being back in this palace, the one threaded together with strands of the man who can ruin me with one word, I was scared of every step for what could possibly await me around each corner.

And yet, despite this, and every concern prior, I'm asking before I even realize it. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Sif tilted her head. "Odin?"

I could have groaned. "You're both so funny today."

Luckily, they both smiled, seeming content with that as enough of a response. Maybe I am getting a bit restless. Who can blame me, really, having traveled across the universe for a man who may kill me on sight.

But before I could ask again, it was impossible, almost overwhelmingly so, to ignore the way they were looking at me now. It was soft, endearing, and truly nothing that they would ever regard me with before. It was a look I've seen only moments before, given to me by Kari who added her own tears to accessorize it.

I guess it's a parting look of some sort. It's...unsettling before anything. I can't say whether or not I hate it yet, but...it's just...it's a little too happy, isn't it? It's just....oh my god, are they going to stop any time soon?

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "Do either of you know where he is?"

"South corridor, I'm sure," Sif eventually speaks. It was his chamber wing. Not Odin's, but his, which only told me that he didn't care more about his appearance than the people of Asgard did in making him believe that it was working.

That said something. In fact, that said a lot.

"Thank you." Nodding my head, I stopped a small smile from claiming my face at the idea. "Talk later?"

Nodding back, Sif smiled. "Of course."

I gave them both one last look before turning around, taking only a few steps before I heard that I was the only one doing so. I didn't have the time to address it before they did.

"And Ms. Natalle," I heard spoken from behind me, prompting me to turn to them again. The smiles and those god-forsaken looks hadn't left them, and if I had the opportunity to hit it off their faces, I might just have.

But Destin and Sif straightened their spines, then. They raised their heads and moved their hands into an intentioned position. And just after I hear a real and earnest, "Welcome back," they did the damnedest thing.

They bow.

I can't say I had any words, but my mouth opened just the slightest as I watched them straighten and retreat soundlessly, not requiring me to have a proper response. If I'm thankful for anything, it's that. Because...what?

It was only after they'd long left that I was able to come back to my senses, urging myself to turn around and walk forward. I had to put it out of my mind. If I wanted to keep myself together at all, I'd simply forget it altogether. And as I reached the more dark and barren parts of the palace, it became a need that I quickly overcame.

Because I know the south corridor. And it knew me the second I entered.

We've tormented it, him and I. A once quiet and practically abandoned part of the castle had been brought back to life just to host our game of death. Here, every step casts an echo and every breath was an offense, and since we change the rules of our war and make them up as we go, it's seen the absolute worst of us. The south corridor is utterly lawless, most times depraved, and in being so it became the only place that the secrets we wouldn't admit, even to ourselves, were allowed to manifest.

I could feel him. As vividly as if our energy had soaked these walls and our presence activates it.

He's here, isn't he?

The next hallway spoke to me with newfound vigor, and gone was the fear in my bones of a possibility.

There was only knowing.

I rounded into that hallway, and in the first second, there was a small hitch of my breath. And I froze.

Odin had just rounded the other side, keeping a casual pace, with his hands at sides and his head down. He's alone, seeming to be accompanied by a particularly deep thought. But when he heard another pair of footsteps, his slowed, just the slightest.

I don't want to imagine why that sound looks to be so foreign to him. And still, I don't know how much time has passed. But perhaps he told me with how slowly he began to look up. Ever so carefully, as if he may just know why the sound was profound enough to occupy the loneliness left behind by the counterpart of this corridor.

He froze, too.

In a way all too familiar to us, we stood on opposite ends of the hallway, amidst a deafly quiet. Only, he was staring at me, now, like he is trying to decide if I'm there, or simply a memory.

There was no change to his face, and no indication to say that he's accepted that or the latter, but as I saw the outline of his body start to phase with a magical glow, I truly didn't care.

I don't have an intelligent word for him. Not right now.

The sight of him — tall, dark, and ethereal — nearly brought me to tears.

There was a lump in my throat that told me I was worked up enough that I probably would cry, and soon. But I can't for the life of me understand how I'm supposed to help it. Not when I never thought ever see him again, let alone that someone I love this much could still be alive. That they could still be right in front of me after I realize just how much I do. So beautiful, and so real.

Terrifying, still, if only because for the first time that I am looking at someone, I can't see the ending. There's no escape plan, no exit route, nothing conceivable that could persuade me against him. Not even the danger in loving in. Because, maybe, I'm a woman who has seen so much danger that I can't live without it, and can't help but love it a little bit too. I know that I do. Because I can't see my life going any longer without him in. He's it. And perhaps that's simply what my death is.

God, has he always been this beautiful?

The next breath I took was too shaky, and to my dismay, it grabbed his full attention. Following it as if it were the very determinant for this reality, he looked me up and down, and his hands flexed at his sides in a way that robbed me of my breath altogether.

"There was a time I didn't think you were real," he spoke, his voice just above a whisper. "It's happening again."

I had no answer for him, and no way to prove myself while this transfixed. But he didn't seem to expect a response. No, he was staring at me, eyebrows pinched together as if I were an enigma in front of him, and he couldn't believe his odds.

"I..." He swallowed hard, eyes searching me. "You simply couldn't be. I did everything to convince myself of that. And it just could have worked because you would vow that you're exactly what the world says you are, and that's my favorite mantra of them all."

Loki beckoned a silence that he needed in order to breathe. Words were slowly finding him, though, in tandem with his making sense of the sight of me. "That Safiya," he spoke, "stubborn and dreadfully willed, wouldn't be here right now."

No, I would have said if I could. That's not the Safiya you know.

In the next moment, I was given witness to watch the pensive look fall from his face to be replaced with one that longed to be right.

"They say I've gone mad, you know," he whispers. I swallowed in anticipation. "I think so, too. Because the woman I'm seeing now has had her existence denied for a very long time." A sharp breath left him, his forehead wincing for just a second. "Gods, she was so damn good at convincing me that you didn't exist."

As if my heart couldn't beat any harder, Loki took a step forward, his eyes locked on me. "But I'd see you," he assured me. "When she would let her guard down a little at a time, I'd see more of you in ways you wouldn't believe. And she would not believe it." My eyes flicked down to watch Loki take another step forward, his head shaking at the audacity of his idea. "The things you're capable of, the power you have...the things you've made me feel...I — I can't fathom a world where a woman so terribly perfect would have me be the only one to ever see her."

Those tears, the ones gracious enough to warn me, pricked at the corners of my eyes as Loki took another step forward. "There had to be some kind of condition to it, some kind of trick," he reasoned to himself, watching me with an irrefutable emotion in his eyes overwhelmed me completely. "Because it couldn't be real that you would want anything from me. That you would let me know you, and that you would want me in the ways I want you. But now, you have to know what I do. You have to. Because if she is what I see only if I'm completely mad," he breathed hard, desperate, "then I never want to be anything else."

I nearly choked, then, at the sincerity that I never thought I would breed, given to me by a man who looks at me like that. Like I'm the most powerful thing he's ever seen in his life of dieties and divinity.

And I swear, in his eyes then, he prayed to me like one.

"Are you going to break me, my love?" He pleaded. "More than I already thought possible?"

"Oh, my god," I whispered under my breath, and the sigh that left me took every inhibition that kept me from him. I didn't think. I only moved, slow and gradual at first, until every step seemed to actuate the corridor around us. It chanted, cheered, rallied until I was as furious as them that he was just not close enough. And as I saw, by some miracle, that he began to walk towards me, I couldn't take it any longer. I ran.

He watched me come, but couldn't match. Because when our eyes locked, his entire body slackened as if it were an offering of surrender itself. And yet, when I jumped into his arms, he caught me in a vice that I couldn't get out of even if I wanted to, lifting me up against him so my feet were just off the ground. And without another second wasted, his lips were on mine.

Like a fluid motion, his fingers spanned into my hair and I held his face between my palms. I've never known a feeling to be so indescribable as it is to feel him again, but a likely expression of the same sentiment would be the tear that ran down my face, then, and wet both of our cheeks.

He kissed the trail it made, over and over, his lips moving against me with a word that sounded like my name. But what persuaded another tear to fall was the way he said it, like we've been apart for lifetimes and he was finally free to voice it again.

I was able to say half of his name before our lips were together again. Feverishly, he charmed me into obsession and kissed me quite insane until we absolutely needed to catch our breaths. Our foreheads fell helplessly against the others.

He terrorized me — and made me feel alive.

The space between us filled with our heavy breaths, and our eyes closed to feel it more acutely. His hands left my hair and soothed down to my cheeks, holding me still in front of him. "You're not leaving," he panted. "Not again. Not ever."

I shook my head. "You told me to."

"And you actually did it."

With a gust of breath, my eyebrows furrowed, completely amused with how he could make me laugh even in the midst of this. The need for him only grows more insatiable, so I kissed him again with a thought that I don't think I'll be able to stop. Not when I've gone so long without the taste of him and when his tongue moves like he has a reclaiming make.

Yet, somewhere amidst our fixation, someone was strong enough to break us apart, and we pulled back just enough to be able to see each other again.

I feared that as Loki began to put me down, that my knees would give out. Seeing him this close again, his hands caressing my face like I'm the most precious thing he's ever seen, I almost didn't hear him.

"Deep breath in."

I would digest later what it meant that I did so mindlessly and without any context for what was to follow, but for now, I simply held onto him tighter and let him flash us away.

When I'm able to settle myself again, I noticed first the warmth around my body, the gentle breeze in the air, and the faint but distinguishing smell of roses.

We were outside, told by the quiet song of a bird. But upon opening my eyes, it wasn't a place I'd ever seen before. In fact, it's not necessarily a place I would ever imagine to be real. It's optimally secretive, almost romantic, and I couldn't help but note that it is so quintessentially him.

We looked to be in one of the more secluded places in the castle, and I wonder how many people knew of its existence. Only, it seems like a place that once you find it, you'd never want to leave. But if there's a particularly reserved prince who collects secrets as a hobby, I'm sure he's already claimed it as his own.

It's a small nook of sorts, surrounded by a rose garden, with no walls or windows aside from the few Corinthian columns that stood overrun with vines. The domed ceiling was the only thing enclosed to withstand weather of all sorts. To that, it seemed he was grateful. For the bench that lined the rounded structure was riddled with plush pillows and stacks of books. If didn't know any better, I think I had just found the very place Loki escapes to, and perhaps has been all his life.

In my awe, I had parted from him in order to see the view at its every angle. Never would there be a better day to see this for the first time under the sun of midday and the gardens in full bloom.

As I turned back to him, I found him simply watching me, hands at his sides and his eyes eased into calm, a small smile gracing his face. After a moment, however, all that remains unsaid between seemed to resurface itself in our minds. Gradually, made worse with the closeness of us and the quietness of this spot, my heart began its rapid beating again.

I didn't want to talk. Not just yet. I'm afraid that I'll lose him with the wrong words, and in the way he looked at me, it seemed he did, too.

It's funny how obsessed we were with this pursuit of this — knowing everything about the other. And in those depths, we fell in love with the darkest places. We've seen it all from each other. Every demon. So why is he scared? And why I am?

I suppose this isn't anything we've done before. And perhaps it would help if someone broke the silence, just to break it. Just to say anything at all. I'll call it mercy, then, as I cleared my throat.

"Is this where you take all your women?"

Nice.

As I cursed myself, I watched that little smile find his lips again in a form much more amused. He hums, letting a moment pass with a step closer to me before, "You weren't allowed here."

My eyebrows rise, a smile of my own threatening the seams. "No?"

"No," he said, a matter of factly. And with his sights set on me, he took another step. "I would have had to kill you for how perfectly you complete it."

My face fell, and this time I let the smile through despite wanting to roll my eyes. "You were so sure of that?"

His eyebrows pinched together as he came toe to toe, towering over me "As I've ever been."

"Mm," I hummed, lifting my head to look him in the eyes, basking in him being so close that I only had to whisper. "Now look what you've done."

"What I've done?" he repeated softly, laughing once to himself before bringing both of his hands to the sides of my face. "You have no idea." He looked down to my lips before in a moment of contemplation before giving in, his lips conceding the fact that we can't stop. Not even long enough for him to break away and speak, having to whisper into the kiss, "No idea, what you've done to me."

With my arms around his neck, nails raking down his scalp, I found the breath needed to respond. "They said you've gone insane."

He groans into my mouth. "All while you were, what?" He took my bottom lip between his teeth, and I moaned. "Gallivanting around, celebrating how much destruction you've caused?"

Like fucking hell.

I drew him closer, kissing him harder. "God, how I hate you."

"Incomparable, Fatale, to how I do you." With effort, Loki pulled away just far enough that he could see me, groaning in the similar, dark way he does when he thinks something is my fault. "You're inevitable."

Staring at each other with heavy breaths and the familiar burn in our eyes, I realized, then, that no amount of love would make him any less of an adversary. We're matched, and perhaps because we're the only people who could force the other to take criticism and the accountability for it. And in the way that we are, I'm sure it won't ever be too difficult to fall right back into it. Us.

But under these circumstances, novel and true, it couldn't hold up. Those eyes went soft, jaw slack, and if I've never seen it before, then I know now the face of pure desperation.

"Loki..." Gently, I traced his jaw with my fingertips, taking it in my hand before kissing his lips, soft and slow. I planned to savor him. Every bit of him.

"Kiss me," he whispered, face completely focused as he tightened his hold on me, angling himself to reach deeper.

Well, I wish I could care that we can't seem to stop. But his hands are running through my hair, cupping my face, grabbing me closer...and I'm holding his hands, smoothing over his shoulders, dragging a hand down his chest...doing anything to keep touching him, feeling him. Because he's alive, with me, in ways we've never allowed ourselves to be. And well, I'm obsessed. I'm fucking obsessed.

And in the midst of my utter consumption, I almost missed how he began to smooth his hands over me in an ever so subtle way to check for bruises, scars, or anything that would show an account of the time between us. If I weren't who I am, he would probably get away with it, too. Under the guise of massaging my hips, deft fingers slipped under my shirt, searching the skin for any imperfections. He checked my shoulders while kissing my jaw. And when he found a small cut on my temple that couldn't be from anything more than a tree branch, he lingered there as he fought to keep a growl from leaving his throat.

When he was satisfied, he released a deep breath, pulling my forehead against his. "How did you get here?"

I covered the blatancy of my silence by catching my breath, unsure of whether or not a lie would be best. But he knew better.

"Was it Heimdall?" he tried again, softer.

"Loki..." I sighed, practically begging him to forget it.

Instead, he pulled back so he can see me, bringing one hand to hold the side of my face. "If he had any quarrels with me here, on the throne, he would have stepped in," he reasoned, looking back and forth between my eyes. "Instead, he's done me the greatest honor and brought you back to me. I'm indebted to him."

My eyes closed in relief and, without a second thought, I turned to place a kiss on the inside of his palm. He served as my anchor for the moment I felt the adrenaline from our initial meeting begin to fade, and our ravenous emotions seep into the fidelity of our deeper worries.

I won't run. God knows I'm good at it, but my stained skin knows better that you can only gargle on your own blood for so long.

I opened my eyes to find him there, looking down at me with a knowing appraisal that the time has come. A knowing that whatever must be said risks kissing each other like that again. And, in what may be more distressing, a knowing of the possible unprecedented. That there would be a heaven that could come from the likeliness of us.

Before the unknown, I committed to memory his face as it is now.

"I'm terrified," I finally admit, swallowing hard. "Of you. Of me."

The way his body tensed had me grabbing both of his hands. In a desperate attempt to keep him from slipping away, I placed them on my cheeks and held them tight.

"It's all I thought about when I was gone." My eyebrows pinched together. "It terrifies me how selfish I am with you. Because I don't...do this to people. And I don't know if I'll make you better or worse, but I want you."

The beating in my chest made it difficult to focus on anything else, and if I didn't know any better, it most likely thought that I was about to die. I can't blame it. My body has been practically wired to assess threats and act accordingly. But I'm learning, here, along with it, something that I suppose I've always known — that a life of espionage and the terrors it feeds is nothing compared to how scary it is to feel this.

"I haven't done anything. I haven't lived. I haven't let myself. But you make me want to." Whether it was from the truth of the words or the sudden insecurity, my fingers dripped down to his wrists. "I knew loving you was a losing game, but I know what I've lost, and it was everything that would have kept me from you," I whispered to him as if it were my greatest secret. And perhaps maybe it is, because it was just as horrifying to admit, "That would have been the greatest loss of all."

I was barely hanging on, but his strong hands wouldn't let me go anywhere. He tightened his hold on me as his eyes narrowed, stunned, like it wasn't just a secret, but my worst sin. "Safiya," he whispered, using my name as a full sentence.

No matter how drained my body felt, this confession was like a fluid thought, because my mind was a full cup of water, and it just overran the brim, flowing from my mouth.

"I'm going to fuck this up," I continued before he could stop me. "I'm almost fairly certain I'm going to. And I want you to know that if one day you're broken somewhere, that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you were the one unfortunate enough to get my love. Because it's toxic and lethal and deadly, and in the tiny moments I've let it show, I have only known it to be a weapon."

"But it's not enough for you to just accept that." I grabbed his wrists, desperate as ever. "I'm going to try, the best I can, to show you the good it has before it tears us apart. Because even though I want you to understand that the day is bound to come, I promise I'll show you the best reasons to live until then if you'll let me. And maybe I won't be so scared to live myself."

I couldn't read him. The look he gave me — not confused, but almost as if he were pained — didn't change at any revelation. For a moment, I questioned if I were only a distant voice to his thoughts.

What didn't help was when he tilted his head and whispered my name to himself as if I couldn't possibly hear it.

No, I wouldn't have that. Not right now. I grabbed his hands to ensure they stayed where they're meant to be. "Don't let go. Please. I've had enough of leaving people and having them leave me. And I just want to keep going, but I can't do this unless you come with me." And as my thumb soothed along the inside of his wrist, I looked between both of his eyes and made a home. "I love you," I said softly. "So fucking much."

The moment that followed was painstakingly quiet. Loki didn't say a thing, only held me there under his stare for the sole purpose of watching me. His eyes roamed my face, slow and thoughtful, not necessarily caring much for how vulnerable he's left me. That is until eventually, on his own time, he adjusts his footing to look incredibly formidable, like a fortress ready to either trap me in or to let the world try and take us out.

"You think I'd leave you?" He finally spoke, voice deep and armed with defiance. It made my breath hitch just the slightest.

"I know I was the one who left," I reasoned, "but you've made this habit out of dying—"

He practically growled, then.

"You look at me," he demanded, gripping my face with such tender aggression that my every sense was heightened. "I fell for you because that's what you do when you meet the woman whose face you want to be looking into when you die. You fall and keep falling. And if you're really, really lucky, she comes with you. And you never get back up again to where you were because if that was so great, then you wouldn't have needed to fall in the first place."

He shook his head down at me, eyebrows furrowed together as if he couldn't fathom how I could think anything else.

"I love you," he professed in a way that said there is nothing else he knows to be so true. "So fucking much. I love you. And I'm sorry I do."

"I'm sorry that you're the one to have it. Because things will get messy. I'm messy..." He pauses, perhaps keeping himself from spiraling with self pity. God knows I felt compelled to, but he gathers himself much quicker than I could. "I know there's more that you deserve," he says instead, "but there is no way in any realm of possibility that I would let you go. It's selfish, immoral even, but I'll try and make up for it. I will work tirelessly until I and this world are perfect for you. Do you hear me?"

I couldn't make sense of my fortune before he was walking me backwards, eyes never wavering. And in no time at all, I felt the cool stone of the column against my back, felt the green leaves from the vines that framed my face, and ever so gently, I felt his hands brushing them away.

With the only other sound being the soft chirping off songbirds, he knew that if he were to tell me something this forbidden, he would have to get closer.

"My death, the real one, is yours," he submits. "To hold, to dictate, to take."

A sharp breath left me, pushed out by a yearning in my eyes that wanted to kiss him like never before. And when his eyes fell soft, choosing to hold me like his life depended on it, I nearly choked.

"Safiya Natalle, I vow this to you," he whispered. "Everything I do from the time I said I love you is for you. I am yours. And each and every day I will make sure you know how good it is to be mine." Placing his forehead on mine, he took a deep breath. "Because you...you are the one thing in this life that I have to lose. The one thing I will never let go. Not ever. "

Shaking my head, overwhelmed by it all, I began to slide down the column, my hair rising unceremoniously in its wake. "Loki—"

"No," he warns, tightening his hold on me. "You can take it. I know you can."

I wanted to curse him, but upon looking up, I saw a fear in his eyes, one incredibly irrational, that thought after all of that, I would run away.

Sometimes, I'd like to think that I wish we'd met before they convinced us life was war. But then I never would have fought the battles to get here. Not too long ago, I'd beg him to shut me out, and for the sake of my survival, I'd do anything to forget him.

But that fear in his eyes isn't pliant. It's not unstable. And if anyone were to try and bend it to its will, it would find that it's violent. It has enemies and clear intentions. And it tells me more than anything that being scared of losing something doesn't make me weak. It makes me more dangerous.

I pressed my body against him, locking my arms around his neck. "I'm not going anywhere," I spoke into his lips, tilting my head. "And the next time that you wish I would, know that I love you. And I'm sorry I do."

He didn't waste a second before grabbing my jaw and bringing my lips to his, melting me in the process.

"You're not going to want to go anywhere anytime soon," he assured me with a particularly dirty slide of his tongue. "We have things to do."

I smiled into the kiss. "Mm? What's that?"

"I can give you a hint," he whispered deliciously dark, before bringing me closer and blessing me with the hard, expansive plane of his chest.

"Oh yes," I remembered. "There's that titan to kill, right?"

A deep chuckle released from his stomach. "It sounds like a hobby when you say it."

"I assure you, it's my utmost priority," I breathed out, pretending to care as well as I could with his lips coaxing me into being quite drunk. But in the way he listed my chin to delve deeper, it seemed neither of us had the energy for it.

"Do you know romance, Ms. Natalle?" The silk from his voice tingled every nerve ending I have. "Would you let me show you?"

Fuck me.

I kissed him harder instead. "I want everything you have to offer."

He hummed, one sounding so satisfied and mischievous that told me I should be careful what I wish for. "Don't ask for the world if you aren't prepared to have it."

What I won't tell him just yet is that I think I'd be able to take anything — anything in the world. Because in this surge of ambition and arrogance, I've realized all being a god is. It's a surrender, a mindfulness, a knowing your weakness inside and out.

I felt more powerful than ever. Absolutely fearless.

Only love could kill me.

God Bless.

...

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Wouldn't it be nice if the story ended here? Wouldn't that just be the nicest thing? Unfortunately, there has not been enough pain.

Besties, this book is only like halfway over. But, the good news is that my goal is to have this book finished before I hit my 80th birthday. Fingers crossed. 🥳

Things of importance:

Is everyone okay? Safe? Healthy? Vaccinated?

Is everyone okay mentally? Physically? Does anyone in school want to cry more than usual this semester? Asking for a friend?

Did we watch WandaVision/Are we watching Falcon and the Winter Soldier because I have...thoughts.

Things to celebrate:

WE'RE ENTERING RAGNAROK.
I am so disgustingly excited for this. Also, if you're concerned that Loki and Safiya won't want to kill each other anymore, I will simply say that this chapter is as lovey as it's ever gonna get.

60k?! (The fuck?! ((Actually, what the fuck??))) That is so overwhelming, moreso that I don't know how to share my gratitude proportionatly. But thank you ❤️. For reading, for being here, and for being invested in this little book.

And for how long this update took, we're having a party to cancel me. Literally, don't listen to anything I say about when I'm going to post. They are lies. I convince myself that setting a deadline is enough to motivate me to finish it by then, but the thing is, I love lying to myself. Ugh, I'm sorry. Truly.

Questions, concerns, or absolutely flame me:
Here