It was late in the afternoon, you had lost yourself in your work. Your hands mindlessly moved on their own pinning fabric up into the flattering silhouette of the standard mannequin. Smoothing out the lines you wished to refine and picking up the hem just enough so the would-be gown could barely kiss the ground or in this case, the platform you had set it on. The skirt was full and obstructed your view to the door, even then you did not hear the footsteps of the unwanted guest.
“Do you know you smile more at fabric than you do me?” Loki smirked as your eyes landed on him. Just like every time before, your smile vanished at the sight of him. “See,” he waited for you to give a snarky reply as he had grown accustomed to your abuse but it never came. Instead, you went back to work. “Am I really that appalling to you?”
Again no response.
“I’ve been told my looks are above any mortals and even some gods.”
Yeah, by who? Those quivering quims you always turn to when I turn my back? It was always best to ignore him. For centuries Loki had been a touchy subject to you. Once married, thrice engaged, countless midnight rendezvous in the palace and your shop. You blamed his looks and that silver tongue of his.
Looking around your desk he could see a few designs scattered about. A sheet from top to bottom filled with numbers, most likely measurements. Small squares and strips of fabric, beading, and what looked to be hand embroidered flower trim. “As I recall you were the first to bring it to my attention.”
“My mistake, your highness.”
Specs of green fluttered in front of you and in the blink of an eye the dress was complete.
You groaned in anger as he once again took retaliated by ridding you of your work. To many, that would seem like a positive but you loved your work. Nothing brought you more joy than knowing you created something so beautiful with your own two hands. He knew that. “Why must you always-”
“You were ignoring me then addressed me as if I were a stranger.”
“I addressed you by your title.”
“And you know nothing angers me more than when you ignore the fact that we are much more acquainted than that my dear wife.”
“I am not your wife!”
“But you are my love.”
“You died.”
Loki laughed at your ridiculous excuse. “Clearly I am here standing before you, in the flesh.” He followed you as you took the finished dress off the mannequin.
That was the problem with Asgardian marriages. They were for all of eternity, only nullified when someone died.
The dress was immaculate, perfectly made. Every stitch, every detail like you had designed it. Curse him. There was no need to steam it either. He had made it perfect for the rack. “I think I preferred you dead.”
“How very facetious of you.” His arms wrapped around your waist as he brought you close enough to where he could feel your racing heart. “You are elated to see me, admit it.”
Sure. After finding out you were living as an illusion of your father I found myself in tears of joy to know you were alive. You hadn’t been present the moment Thor revealed Loki’s deception but word quickly got to you. The contempt for your husband only grew when you heard he had left for Midgard without seeking you out to apologize for all the stress and heartache he had caused you.
Then all hell broke loose, literally, with his sister bringing Ragnarok upon Asgard. Again she became the bearer of bad news when she told you of Thor and Loki’s death. You chose not to believe it but when she took over as Queen you had no choice. “All that time Loki, I was pregnant with your children and you just watched from afar. You let me believe you were dead, that I would raise your sons on my own.” Tears were starting to gather in the corners of your eyes. From anger or sadness, you did not know. “Do you know how difficult it was to see Hela walk off with Eirik (Eric) and Eivin (Even)?”
Loki became tense. “I-” for once his silver tongue failed him. He knew no amount of apologies could make up for the amount of fear you felt during Hela’s reign.
Exactly. “You don’t…” You sighed as his arms loosened enough for you to retreat if you wished.
To Loki’s surprise, you did the opposite. You leaned in, laying your head on his chest as you suppressed a cry. His arms tightened once more but not before he kissed the top of your head.
During Asgard’s construction, you kept yourself busy trying to forget about him. It was easy when he was in Midgard helping Thor and the Avengers but now that he was back… “Hela nearly killed our sons and all I could think about was how I failed you. How I failed to protect my last connection to you.”
The last few words came out as a whisper. You were getting choked up talking about your feelings letting it be known that you still cared for him.
“Ah,” two fingers rested on the bottom of your chin as he tilted your head up. “So you do still love me, my Queen.”
“Only because I am a fool.”
“You are much more than that my love.”
You were now standing face to face with your husband. His tall frame towered over you as he looked into your eyes with his beautiful cyan orbs. Hypnotizing, they always demanded your attention.
“You are my equal, my best friend, my love, my wife, the mother of my children.”
You watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as the emotion got to him. He was just like you- proud, stoic. This was literally hurting him to say. Your hand automatically went to his chest, laying upon his heart. Easing him was simple when you have had years of practice. He visibly relaxed under your touch.
“I love you Y/N- always have, always will.”
“I love you too Loki- I’ll never stop.”