The Heat of the Snow // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 16

After 30 more painful minutes, Loki can't take it anymore. Where are you? Surely you'd have made it back here by now. Where else was there for you to go? Unless she went back to the hot springs...no, doubtful. She's angry with me...that place would certainly remind her of me now.

Loki winces, taking another long swig of amber liquid. What a difference a few hours can make. Why did he have to push you? Was it because he's desperate? Desperate to make you see. You could be happy together. You could build a life in Asgard as his Queen—regardless of who would take the throne, that's what you would be to him. His Queen, and mother to his children.

Fuck, I think I do sound insane...it's only been a few days after all. I've scared her...

Loki takes another swig of his drink, sitting forward in the chair by the cabin door and tapping his foot to a silent rhythm.

"You'll wear a hole in the floor boy if you keep this up." Stefan's face is one of both amusement and something else...pity, Loki thinks. And neither one does anything for the growing annoyance vibrating inside his chest. Stefan holds out the bottle of whiskey. "She will be back. You'll see."

Getting to his feet, Loki says nothing—turning away from both Stefan and the bottle before stepping up to the window by the door. How could the old man know for sure? He doesn't know the backstory here...the events that have led up to this moment. For all he knows, you woke up in your own bed this morning and are now delivering firewood to the guests. It's not the case...I know it.

Loki says softly, "As I said, the storm blocked the road back here from the camp. She likely will need to take a different route. Are you sure there's not another way she could have gone?"

Stefan narrows his eyes. "And like I said, Y/N knows the proper routes. She will dig pathways to navigate the sleigh."

Loki grits his teeth. "But she didn't though. I just came from there...there were no routes cut through."

Stefan shrugs and places the bottle down on the dining table. "She's likely not finished with her deliveries yet. I know my daughter, Loki. She wouldn't take chances up here. Not in the Arctic Circle with a sleigh and twelve dogs. She just wouldn't."

Something cracks in the old man's face, shooting a bolt of fear through Loki's chest. It's a look he's seen before...back when he was a child. When Thor would make a mess of something and he'd have to answer to their father. Odin could never quite see the error of Thor's ways. Always unable to believe his perfect son capable of doing anything wrong. And when presented with cold hard facts, his face would take that same relaxed appearance as Stefan is doing right now. Denial. But why? Why would he be trying to convince himself of his own words?

As soon as the question enters his mind, the answer chases it like a turbulent wind. His wife...Y/N's mother...is history repeating itself? Good Gods and I've been sat here idly.

Leaping to his feet, Loki places the glass on the table before heading to the door.

"Where are you going?" Stefan demands, his eyes suddenly round and fearful. One glance at the old man's shaking hands tells him his suspicions are correct.

"I'm going to find her," he says, his voice harsh, "...wherever she is."

Stefan says nothing as he watches Loki go—not even when the wind catches the door and slams it shut behind him. "She'll be fine..." he says into the quiet room. "She'll be fine..."

***

Loki wades through the snow around the side of the cabin, cursing at how stupidly slow he's been. All of this time could've cost him dearly. What if you're hurt, somewhere lost in the snow? What if you're unable to make it through, waiting for him to come find you?