The Myriad Misadventures of a Midgardian Queen-In-Training || Loki x Reader

Chapter 35

"Do you want me to leave?"

The question falls, trembling, from your lips, leaving in its wake a silence so thick and tense you can hardly breathe. You don't move. Neither does he; his eyes don't leave yours for one second as you wait for him to speak, as you watch the wheels turn. You almost hope that he'll never answer. The wait is excruciating, though almost preferable to what you're afraid he's going to say.

All at once, the moment breaks. His shoulders sag and he shakes his head, almost chuckling. "Do you want to leave?"

"No," you say hastily, surprising even yourself. It's the first time you've ever admitted it to someone other than your diary. "But you didn't answer my question."

He cocks his head as he stands, eyebrows slightly drawn. "(Y/N), of course I don't want you to leave."

At his full height, and this close to him, You let that sit for a moment, his admission filling you with unexpected warmth. "Well, then, it's settled." Think about what you're agreeing to, (Y/N), you remind yourself. But the feeling in your gut doesn't change—the last few remnants of homesickness, yes, but something even stronger pulling you in the opposite direction. "I'll stay."

"You'll stay." You nod. He responds with a nod of his own, before continuing, "There is something else I had hoped to discuss with you."

"Yes?"

"While I have no desire to dismiss any of you from the competition, keeping you here for two consecutive years was a mistake." He runs a hand through his hair. "You cannot run a kingdom from a prison, even a comfortable one. And while I have no doubt that Lady Amara continues to be thorough in her instruction, her lessons will be of no real use if they are not supplement with hands-on practice."

You stare at him, unsure of what exactly where he's going with this. "I just thought we agreed I was staying."

"You are. I was simply..." He stares at a point just past you, as though pondering something. "I must go. Best of luck with your correspondence home." And with that, he disappears—not literally, as he so often does, but he does walk down the hall so quickly he may as well have.

You sit back down, and pick up the small stack of papers next to you. The letter home you have to finish, were supposed to finish a week ago. Looking at the names on the top of the paper, the names of the family you were taken from, the family you just elected to leave behind—what can you tell them? What can you possibly say to them that would make them understand how you've started to feel?

It almost makes you question everything you've said in the last ten minutes.

And there it is again, that pulse in your gut. That certainty. No. You know you're making the right decision in staying, even if you're not entirely sure why you made it to begin with.

Even if you aren't yet willing to fully admit everything that decision implies.