To be Loki'd - Loki x fem reader

Chapter 32 - Yes father

A.N: Right. Something a little different but I think is good nonetheless. I will obviously diverge from the Marvel plotline (it just gave me an excuse to kill Loki). Sorry about that. 

On we go! 

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Loki's POV: 

I love you. 

I love you. 

The words tore and clawed at my heart, pulling its delicate strings cruelly. How I wish I could tell her it is all a lie, that I am very much living but I know I can't. 

I'd love to tell her she's my sun and my moon, myday and my night, my nine realms but I know I can't. I'd love to answer her comments, her little diary she's been making in her mind in hope that somehow I could hear. At least it comforts me to know she still believes in me, like some sort of spirit hovering above her life. 

But I am aware of her dreadful, painful, wrenching, cruel pain that everyday drags out tears from her already dried-up eyes like a river runs dry. I wish for so many things, so many that I cannot give. She's opened my heart, eyes and mind yet I have to leave her aching. 

"My son, tell me what troubles you." 

My father's voice snaps me out of the distant thoughts I have been ruminating, far away from this frosty realm. In Jotunheim, at least I can be my real form all day, every day without worrying about anything or anyone calling me 'monster'. I get the recognition I deserve whilst walking through those icy streets, watching those who are my subjects. Yet, it doesn't bring me happiness. I know not whether Asgard or Midgard is my home but Jotunheim will never be. Even though I may be accepted and revered like I have always wished, it is not where I want to be. Those snowy peaks and large snowflakes are not those I want to see when I arise and when I fall asleep once more. 

"Please tell me it's not that stupid mortal.", he sneers, eyes glowing brighter under the lights of our numerous candles in the throne room. I sat on his right, in the large throne where my name is proudly inscribed in the finest ice one can get. The whole court laughed under their fans and attire, mocking what they considered 'foolish love'. It took everything in me to not lash out, make my fist collide with the one who is my true father. His hair is much longer than mine, landing in gentle black waves on his large shoulders that bear the weight of a proud king. "I've already told you she's useless and futile. She will die promptly whilst you will rule for centuries." 

I swallowed the hate rising up in my throat like bile and simply nodded, too afraid of the repercussions. Also because I knew my ten siblings would kill to sit on this throne. They'd probably have a smile on their face as well, just like I used to before New York. Before them therefore before her. "Of course father. Whatever you wish." 

Was it not what I wished for? A throne upon which to rule? A kingdom full of loyal subjects ready to kneel in front of me and at my every whimsy or desire? Was this not it? 

I knew the answer to that question, so cruelly taunting.

My father beamed and stood up, his large black fur cape trailing behind his powerful strides, "Good. Let us walk a little my son out in the gardens." 

I rose from my throne and followed him to our royal gardens. On our way there, a few girls stopped to wave shyly or coyly depending on their courage before giggling away under their lace, brocade and silk, happy to have seen me. Girls flocked at my feet, desperate for a glance, an opportunity, my charming good looks. 

But not the girl I wanted.

The snow crunched under our feet, uncaring that we were approaching summer and that I wished for bright coloured blooms instead of the cold ones our realm arboured. The blue grass moved under our large boots, minutely having been trimmed this morning prior. Frosted vines grew on the cobbled walls of our gardens, proudly displaying their pale green leafing, constrating with the grey stones and blue grass underneath our feet. A few coutiers or servants scuttled about, respectfully bowing in front of us, my father not even bothering to acknowledge those desperate to serve and please him.