Undaunted (Loki x Reader)

*Chapter 3 - Intention*

You're taken aback by Loki's command.

Pack? you ask silently in your own mind. Loki nods at you.

Despite your confusion, you dutifully head back towards the bedroom as Loki prepares Anthony for bed. Despite not being in sight of him, you can feel Loki lurking in the corners of your thoughts.

Loki...I thought we were going to consider the options.

I have no intention of putting our family in danger, my love.

So you tricked Thor? You gave him an impossible request that you knew would require him to leave without a final answer. You wanted time to escape?

Precisely.

Loki, from what Thor said it sounds like Asgard really is in trouble...what if we can help?

You would willingly help that old ergi after all he has put us through? After all he has put YOU through? No. Let the Aesir clean up their own mess.

Technically, Loki, this is our mess. MY mess...I'm the one who gave her the inscription.

I know, darling. I could tell the moment Thor mentioned her name to you. But Amora's quest for vengeance started long before your encounter with her. Leave it be, and do not take on the burden of guilt, for it lay not with you.

Your thoughts begin to race passively in your mind as you think back on your encounter with Amora in Asgard. Letting out a defeated sigh, you slowly and subtly start folding up clothes, placing them in a black gym bag on the floor.

So...we're running. Again. You think loudly and clearly - you know Loki's paying attention from the other room.

It is the safest choice, love.

This is my fault, Loki. No matter how we try to deny it.

This is NOT your fault, kærasta. My father's paranoia put us on this path. If there is anyone to blame, it is him. You must believe that.

You zip up the black gym bag full of only the staples for you and Loki, leaving the majority of your things untouched. If you are about to go on the run and start over, you'd want to carry as few things as possible.

You move to Anthony's room, and smile sadly as you see Loki in the rocking chair, Anthony in his arms. He is halfway through telling an Asgardian children's fairytale to the small, sleepy boy. Loki's deep, velvet voice utters words you can't understand. Yet you feel the intention behind them, captivated by his expressiveness.

"Töfraálfurinngat ekki skilið hvernig þau gætu hvílt sig svo hljóðlega í málinu, svo hann flaug til býflugnanna, sem voru að safna hunangi, og sagði þeim frá vondum bróður sínum."

Even when telling a children's tale, Loki's storytelling prowess never ceases to captivate and enthrall you. And you're amazed at his capacity to recall entire stories, like this one, simply from memory.

Quietly, you pluck several sets of clothing from Anthony's dresser and closet, folding them and placing them in another small bag. You choose several of his favorite toys, including a small Thor doll that Anthony had picked himself from the toy store shelves a year ago, much to Loki's chagrin. You feel a weight in your chest as you look over at your boys. You are going to miss this cozy home.

Once finished, you set the bag on the ground by the bedroom door, and lean against the frame, listening as Loki finishes the story, despite Anthony already being asleep in his arms. As he rocks, he strokes the boy's dark hair, allowing his fingers to lovingly comb through the silky strands.