Loki X Reader || Frostfire: Love Amidst Ice and Flame

Chapter 20: Wings of Revelation

The moon hung softly outside the window, casting a gentle glow that pooled across the floor, wrapping their shadows in a quiet embrace. Y/N stood before the mirror, her breath steady, though a warm flutter stirred within her, filling her with a sense of wonder and newness she couldn't quite name.

Wings, radiant and metallic, arched from her back like celestial armor, their light catching the faint glimmer of the stars outside. Her silver eyes mirrored those same stars, as though she had stolen fragments of the night sky.

She remained in Loki's arms, his grip still firm around her, as though reluctant to let go. His towering Frost Giant form bathed in the same pale light, icy blue skin shimmering faintly. His eyes, blazing with an ancient fire, met hers, cutting through the lingering darkness.

Together, they looked like creatures born of legend—two beings woven from myth, their true selves now revealed, yet still connected in a way that felt both dangerous and undeniable.

"You look..." His voice, softer than usual, carried a hint of reverence as he reached for a lock of her hair, gently brushing it away from her face. "...like something out of legend."

Y/N's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile, her silver eyes holding his with an intensity that felt almost dangerous. "For someone who claims to be a god, you seem surprisingly captivated," she murmured, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable allure. "Am I too much for even the God of Mischief?"

Her fingers trailed along the edge of his jaw, lingering just enough to tease, her touch sending a shiver of warmth over his icy skin. She leaned in slightly, her wings catching the moonlight as they arched protectively behind her, casting faint shadows that mingled with his.

"But maybe," she whispered, her gaze never leaving his, "it's not the legends you're drawn to... maybe it's just me."

A smirk flickered across Loki's lips as he held her gaze, his eyes dark with intrigue. "Perhaps," he murmured, his voice low and almost dangerously soft, "but you, Y/N, are no ordinary legend."

He reached up, fingers brushing the edge of her wing with a deliberate slowness, letting its faint glow spill over his hand. The metallic sheen caught the starlight, casting a silvery shimmer across his fingers.

His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something raw and unguarded—a quiet awe that seemed to surprise even him. "You're something... unpredictable," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over her as though etching each detail into memory. "A force of nature that defies everything I thought I understood."

He leaned closer, his voice a mere whisper, his smirk reappearing, though softened, layered with an honesty he rarely allowed himself to show. "Tell me," he murmured, words tinged with amusement and something deeper, "how could I resist something as maddeningly irresistible as you?"

Loki's eyes lingered on her reflection, and a rare reverence touched his voice. "You look almost like a Valkyrie." His gaze met hers in the mirror, and in that unguarded moment, a warmth rose within Y/N at his words—a heady blend of thrill and vulnerability washing over her. She held his gaze, her silver eyes reflecting the intensity of the moment.

"But you're not," he continued, a strange mix of awe and relief lacing his words. "If you were a Valkyrie—"

*

Loki stepped back, his Asgardian form returned, the familiar façade slipping back into place with ease.

Y/N's expression shifted from playful to contemplative as she watched Loki step back, the energy of the moment dissipating slightly with the return of his familiar façade.

His gaze flicked to her arm, thoughtful. "A Valkyrie tattoo should have appeared," he said, his tone low, "marking you as one of the warriors of legend, sworn to serve Odin." Yet her skin remained untouched—no binding sigil, no oath etched on her flesh.

Her silver eyes narrowed slightly, studying him as he inspected her arm, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty dancing across her features.

She raised her arm, palm up, and turned it slowly, searching her skin for any signs of the mark he mentioned. The smooth surface glimmered in the moonlight, unmarred and untouched.

"You would be bound to serve Asgard, bound to its rules and its throne." Loki continued, stepping closer. His presence both imposing and intimate as he studied their reflections in the mirror.

"You would have drawn your blade," his voice taking on a formal tone, almost like reciting a forgotten ritual.

"Dropped to one knee before me and offered your loyalty with the words every Valkyrie is duty-bound to speak." A small, ironic smile curled his lips. "You would have called me 'Your Highness.'"

A thrill shot through Y/N as his words hung in the air, the formality in his tone striking an unexpected chord deep within her.

She held his gaze in the mirror, her pulse quickening as the image of herself on one knee before him flitted through her mind—only not in the way he might have intended. Her lips curled into a smirk, a hint of dark amusement lighting her eyes.

He stepped back, surveying her once more, but this time his eyes held a different gleam—one of acceptance rather than judgment. "But you haven't knelt..."

Loki's hand moved along her arm, slow and deliberate, his cold fingers tracing the curve of her skin. "...and the tattoo hasn't appeared."

*

But as soon as his fingers brushed her skin, his true form surged forth—blue rippling from the point of contact, spreading up his arms like a wave crashing against the shore.

Loki's breath caught as the blue spread up his arm, a spark of awe in his gaze.

His Frost Giant form shimmered briefly in the pale light, the air thickening with an unexpected revelation that hung between them, both thrilling and terrifying.

Then, like a thunderclap, realization struck.

At first, Loki had believed his Frost Giant nature had surfaced during their kiss because he had allowed himself to feel, to let his emotions break free in that rare, vulnerable moment.

He had assumed the icy blue of his true self had slipped through due to his own lapse in control, a crack in the carefully constructed façade he had worn for so long.

But now, as his form shimmered again—Jotun blue rising unbidden—he understood the truth. It hadn't been his emotions or any moment of weakness...

It was her.

*

Her power was pulling the truth from him, unraveling the Asgardian disguise that had been imposed on him by Odin. A form that only Odin could undo was falling apart under her touch, as though his borrowed skin was meaningless in her presence.

Loki's hand trembled as he pulled away, watching the blue recede, his Asgardian skin returning like a mask slipping back into place. But his eyes stayed locked on her, darkened with disbelief.

"This form... It's not something anyone can simply shed," he murmured, voice unsteady. "It was Odin who gave me this Asgardian appearance, and only he can strip it away."

He paused, his gaze narrowing, struggling to comprehend. "But you... you did this. You revealed my true nature."

His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with awe and a growing sense of unease. "Your power...

it's greater than Odin's."

*

A chilling thought struck Y/N, and her breath caught. "Loki," she whispered, her voice tight, heart racing. "If my power can strip away Odin's spell on you..."

He frowned, catching her meaning.

"Then it could just as easily dissolve the veil you cast around this room," she continued, her voice trembling, "the one shielding us from Heimdall's sight. Which means..."

Her words hung heavy in the air.

Loki's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as the implications set in:

"Odin may already know."