His Dove (Loki Laufeyson)

Part 59 (Loki's POV)

Loki

Loki feared his emotions had only added to Dani's anxiety, what he could tell was her stress. He felt horrible for his love, the constant and nonstop distress she had been put in lately.

He wished he could go back to their week together on Midgard. Hel, even their time together on the compound, as friends, because at least then she was truly happy. He could tell by the way her face would light up during discussions, the way she'd smile so incredibly brightly when she'd talk to him about her schooling and her interests.

He hadn't seen her speak that way in a long while now, not since she had gotten to Asgard the first time. Since then, he could see the pain in her eyes. He could see the way she forced herself to smile in front of others, the way her eyes dimmed when she thought of Midgard, the isle, her life. It hurt him physically, nearly enough to make the god fall to his knees then and there. He wished for nothing more than to give her comfort, give her the peace and love she truly deserved.

And now, this. Loki had read through the pages of Eir's handwriting, the story of her disappearance now being much less of a mystery. Frigga would be devastated. He wondered if it were actually wise to tell her, hurting his mother in this way. Nonetheless, his feet carried him to her study and he knocked on the door before opening it. Frigga sat at her desk, perking up at the sight of her child.

"I didn't expect to see you for the rest of the evening." His mother's voice was calm, though it was also hesitant. "What's wrong?"

"Dani has a journal from Vanaheim... It's Eir's." He began.

As he spoke with his mother, he could see her heart break as he explained. She seemed pained, but not necessarily very surprised. He thought it odd, but Frigga had already had her suspicions since seeing Danielle's memory.

A person can't fake happiness to an empath, she knew. Eir was truly happy. Then, the anger he rarely ever saw within his patient mother goddess was written on her every feature.

"I worry he'll come for her." He felt himself whisper at the end.

In any other situation, Loki would respond with anger. He was angry. Angry Odin would do this, angry the king had contributed to the pain of his love. "I worry he already came for her."

Frigga tilted her head at that, "Explain, Loki."

"My shields were tampered with, within Danielle's room. I also..."

"Continue." She said flatly, her court face appearing.

"Danielle has nightmares. Often." He huffed. "I know some of them are the incident with the Stark's, but... One night, at the tower, before we became truly close, she had a horrid night. She woke up screaming several times before I-.... She got my attention, the last time. She screamed for her mother, then got out of bed, giving up on sleep for the night. I had tried to read her mind when I followed her, but I could only see bits and pieces because of her power. It's how I knew her mind was too difficult to properly read."

He paused for a moment, making sure his mother was following his explanation.

"I saw a sword, hacking away at people. None I recognized, but the sword..." He felt his throat dry, his silver tongue failing him throughout this admission. "It looked eerily like Gram. I thought it must be a coincidence, seeing as it's not a very distinct sword and I believed her mortal, but given the journal..."

His mother stared at her son, her jaw tight and her body rigid. "Go back to her. I will find the truth in this." She assured him quietly. "We must not trust anyone else with this information. Where is the journal?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at his mother. "With her. To the normal eye, it looks more confusing than elvish. Only with her permission can it be read."

A small smile broke through Frigga's unusually cold exterior, "She's far stronger than she realizes." She said softly, her voice almost a hush whisper as she spoke proudly of the girl. "We will keep her between us until we better understand. You and I can keep her safe, though I truly believe she is capable of doing such things herself."

Loki stood, nodding at his mother's attempt to ease him. He lifted her hand off the desk, placing a gently kiss to the top before teleporting back to his dove.

She laid on his bed, eyes glazed as she read the book at a superhuman speed. He wondered to himself if she even realized how much magic she used now without the blocker. If she could feel tasks becoming easier as she subtly enchanted everything around her, doing things that would tire the average sorcerer within minutes. Yet she could do it for hours without a second thought, moving on to the next thing with ease and comfort.

"Darling." Loki hummed to her softly, wanting to pull her from the trance without scaring her like he had done previously with his illusion.

Dani's eyes flickered to his, then back to the book as she finished reading the page in seconds. It finally shut on its own, all the while Dani was less than aware.

"Where'd you go?" Her voice was soft, forcing him to realize how vulnerable she'd been feeling.

"To my mother. I hope you don't mind that I explained some things."

"No, that's okay."

He nodded and huffed as he sat beside her, his hand instinctively going to brush a strand out of her hair. He couldn't help but admire her beauty. The breathtaking pull she had on the god was not only unheard of, but dangerous as well. Though Loki wouldn't ever admit it to another soul, this woman had engulfed his entire being; she had taken his will to live and twisted it into an iron desire to live for her, to die for her, to kill for her. He had known since that singular day in the dungeons, the way he pulled himself through the room he swore never to step foot in alive, the way he cut into the man in front of him slowly, earning every cry and scream, every plead for the pain to end. He did it without thought, without concern for Thor, the guards, or even Odin himself. He would slice her enemies and gift her their hearts if it would make hers whole.

And now, now her enemy was the king of Asgard himself. The man Loki had kept a loving contempt for, for centuries now. That man had been the reason for her distress, for her displeasure, and Loki wanted nothing more than to leave his bleeding, lifeless body at her feet.