tired-truffle

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k

Part 4/40

"But good God what's wrong with me, after all? What am I missing? Why this emptiness, this nostalgia? What is this anxiety, as if I only loved something I didn't know?" - Clarice Lispector

Masterlist

“Do you sleep with it?” Leliana’s shock of red hair appeared in the corner of Gwen’s view.

“What?” Gwen paused in the cleaning of her daggers, having just successfully dispatched a group of travelling bandits, they were taking a moment to rest before returning on their journey. She had plunked herself down on a boulder, its surface rough and uneven, covered in patches of vibrant green moss that seemed to cling to it like a second skin. The tendrils of moss reached out towards the ground as if trying to anchor the boulder even deeper into the earth. She could feel the moss's soft and slightly damp texture beneath her fingertips. It provided a cool and comfortable seat, a welcome reprieve from the heat of the sun. Despite its decaying appearance, there was a sense of life and vitality emanating from the boulder, as if it was still connected to the earth and thriving in its own way. Shade from the lush green trees that swayed gently in the light breeze allowed for a moment of privacy from the prying eyes of her fellow companions. Or so she’d thought.

“The mask,” Leliana clarified, “is it not uncomfortable to keep it on at all times?”

Gwen shrugged, popping her daggers back in their sheaths that hung from her worn belt, “I’m used to it.”

Leliana twisted her mouth as she considered this, “So you do sleep with it on?”

“Why does it matter?” Gwen was quickly getting tired of this game, and her stomach had been rumbling unpleasantly for over an hour which spiked her irritation. Despite the tough exterior of leather and metal that she wore, Gwen's stomach grumbled constantly, a reminder of her meagre earnings and the constant struggle for survival. It gnawed at her like a wild beast, relentless and untameable, much like she was herself. She could not bear the feeling of hunger, like claws scraping against her insides, urging her to hunt and fight for scraps. She was no stranger to this constant battle against hunger, but it did not make it any easier.

“I’ve just never met anyone so insistent on hiding their face, you’re very dedicated, ” Leliana’s gaze darted down curiously. When Gwen bristled, the rogue was quick to correct herself, “Though I’d never dream of asking you to remove it. We are all entitled to our secrets.” 

Gwen didn’t like the sparkle of mirth that danced in her eyes but was willing to let it go, for now. The woman was only curious, Gwen had no proof she meant any harm, “I don’t wear it at night if I’m alone.”

Leliana smiled brightly, the whiteness of her perfect teeth bright against her skin that had been darkened with dirt from their travels, “Thank you for indulging me,” she said with an incline of her head, “should you ever need anything I hope you know I would be more than happy to be of assistance.”

“Right.” Gwen sat stiffly, scanning for the hidden meaning within the other woman’s words, but she wasn’t a bard for no reason and there was no ulterior motive that Gwen could confidently find. 

Leliana nodded before flitting off, gone to bother Sten instead, which seemed like a much more dangerous idea. The Qunari was the definition of surly, and unpredictable. He’d killed a whole family in cold blood and seemed to have little remorse for his actions. To top it all off he was massive, both in height and in muscle, and could easily crush the much smaller woman. 

However, Gwen was entranced by Leliana's fluid movements, her lithe body gliding with ease and grace. She felt a sense of reassurance, knowing that she would be able to swiftly dodge any of Sten's attacks should he become provoked enough to strike.

The group began moving again after their short rest, Leliana still thankfully in one piece despite Sten’s less-than-pleased scowl.

The dirt path stretched ahead, surrounded by trees on either side with branches that bent inwards towards the path. The rich green leaves cast dappled shadows on the ground, providing a soothing contrast to the harsh rays of the sun. The air was filled with the cheerful chirping of birds, their vibrant colours flitting between the trees. Gwen caught a glimpse of something soft and delicate resting on the ground. Keeping her eyes locked on it, she cautiously bent down and picked up the light blue feather. Its gentle touch against her skin reminded her of the old sheets she had in her childhood room, so worn by age that the once itchy fabric had become soft. She stuffed it in her pocket, no longer wanting to touch it - to bring out those memories - but feeling unable to part with it.

At the front of the group, Darcy and Leliana walk side by side, their figures silhouetted against the bright sky. Darcy's animated gestures were mirrored by Leliana's graceful movements as they chatted, their voices carrying lightly through the peaceful surroundings.

Gwen’s attempt to ward off further company was quickly thwarted, her hunched shoulders and slow pace meant to signal for others to stay away were promptly ignored. Much to her growing irritation, some of the other party members seemed to have temporarily shut off all connection to their ability to understand body language.

“So,” Alistair dragged out the vowel as he sidled up to where she walked behind the group, purposefully alone, but no longer. It had been four days of travel, four days of avoiding his curious gaze as she stuffed food under her bandana. He’d tried to engage in conversation with her with limited success as she’d stuck to one-word answers as much as she’d been able to, much to his frustration. However, an unanticipated side effect of her frequent dismissal of the former-Templar was Morrigan’s approval, the witch seemed to warm up to her the more that she ignored Alistair’s attempts to befriend her. It was a strange consequence, but not one that Gwen minded as Morrigan was not the type to engage wilfully in meaningless conversation.

Gwen had been dreading the inevitable moment when someone inevitably brought up her bandana, but so far they had only given her quizzical - or judgemental - looks. She could accept those, they were all entitled to their own opinions, and she’d take stares over attempting to rip the cloth off her face any day. She wondered how much of it was thanks to Darcy. He had been insistent that the others respect her privacy and none seemed to want to disobey his command. But even in their silence, Gwen could sense their curiosity and disapproval lingering in the air.

Gwen raised her eyebrow, “You have a question you wish to ask.” She stated, as had become their routine. He would ask her something small, like how she was enjoying the sunny weather, to which she would give a short reply, like ‘it’s fine’. He would then pout and she would continue to ignore him until he came up with another pointless question. 

A wide, mischievous grin spread across his face like a magician revealing his best trick. As the corners of his lips turned up, Gwen couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and she instinctively tensed her muscles, bracing herself for whatever he had in store. She could practically hear the gears turning in his mind as he plotted his next move, “I was actually going to suggest you ask me a question, you know since I’m the one always bothering you, I figured it’s only fair.” 

Gwen had not expected that, “And if I do not have any questions for you?”

Alistair’s grin continued to grow, he had anticipated this. He’d managed to glean enough about her tendencies from their limited conversations to know how she would respond, how irritating, “Then I will continue to ask you increasingly simple questions that will bore both of us out of our skulls. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you hate that.” 

Gwen narrowed her eyes at him, “Well played,” he beamed at the compliment and Gwen found herself regretting that she’d given it. His ego had inflated, and a man with an inflated ego was never a good thing, “Why do you insist on asking me inane questions when you know I don’t like it and do not want to answer?”

“Because I want to get to know you, is that truly such a terrible thing?” The earnestness with which he regarded her had her stomach churning uncomfortably. 

“Why?” Had he figured out there was something wrong with her and was trying to pinpoint what it was? Or did he find her face covering suspicious and want to slowly worm his way past her defences until he could expose her true, rotten self?

He looked at her like she’d asked him why the stars glowed only at night, “Why would I not?”

Gwen hummed noncommittally in response. She didn’t have a good answer, at least not one she was willing to share. She sighed as she considered his ask, she was getting rather bored, there was nothing but miles of road and other than fighting one group of bandits, they had done nothing but walk and camp. Maybe if she indulged him this once he would realize that nothing was interesting about her and back off. She doubted that would be the case, but she may as well try.

“Why are we helping Lady Isolde instead of letting her sacrifice herself for a problem she caused?” It had been bugging her for days. They had set out to fight the Darkspawn and so far they had fought exactly none. What was the point of helping Isolde if there was no Darkspawn involvement?

She had wanted a topic change and she had succeeded, potentially a little too well as Alistair’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and he gapped at her, “What?”

Gwen cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the intensity of his stare, and kept her gaze trained on the road ahead, “Why are we taking on this responsibility, spending extra time to double back to solve a problem she could have easily avoided, and potentially putting the rest of Ferelden at risk if we lose too much time to stop the Darkspawn Army.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and Gwen watched him nervously from the corner of her eye, concerned about what she had gotten herself into. It had been an honest question and she’d tried to keep the accusation out of her voice, though she had never been the best at controlling her tone, whether she meant to or not, her true feelings always found a way to seep through, like rainwater through an old thatched roof. This had been a bad idea.

“You seem very concerned about stopping the Blight for someone who only joined us two days ago.” 

“The Blight affects everyone, I am included in everyone,” she retorted, “of course, I’m concerned about stopping it. But you didn’t answer my question.”

After a moment of consideration, her answer seemed to satisfy him enough and he returned to the topic of Isolde, though Gwen wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, “Lady Isolde made a bad decision, but it wasn’t on purpose, she was trying to do the best with a shitty situation. We can’t let her or Connor suffer when we have a chance to help them. Blood Magic always creates more problems than it solves, do you honestly think that it's the answer?” 

“From what I’ve seen, magic is magic, whether it's blood magic or otherwise, it's the mage that makes it good or evil.” Gwen folded her arms over her chest defensively.

He waved his hands in front of himself like he was trying to ward off invisible demons, “I am not arguing Blood Magic with you, it is evil, end of story. And would you really be okay with letting a boy become motherless just because we were too lazy to help them?” 

Gwen felt like this conversation was quickly getting out of control and she didn’t know how to fix it, she tried to soften her tone, “He has a father and an uncle who love him, does he not?”

“That’s not the point,” Alistair insisted, the muscle in his jaw ticking, “Even if we can save Arl Eamon, Isolde is still his mother. If I was in Connor’s shoes and I found out that my mother’s life could have been spared but people chose to kill her for simplicity's sake I would be beside myself. Would you not feel the same if it was your mother?” 

With her eyes fixed on the distant horizon, Gwen tried to steady her breathing. The mention of her mother struck a painful chord within her, dredging up memories and emotions that she had spent years trying to bury. If she let those memories in, she would never be able to get out of the deep pit it would put her in, scrabbling at the dirt walls with broken nails, calling - begging - for help. 

In and out, in and out, I am safe, they cannot find me, they cannot hurt me.

Gwen kept her tone as neutral as possible, devoid of all emotion, “Saving Isolde does not exist in a void. If we’re unsuccessful at stopping the Blight because we were delayed trying to save her, neither of them will live anyway. Nor will any of the common folk of Ferelden. Are the lives of these two nobles worth more than that?” 

A flash of irritation crossed his face, Gwen cursed herself, she should have let it drop, but she hadn’t been thinking straight when the topic of her mother had been brought up.

“Of course, I care about the lives of all the people of Ferelden, but how can I condemn a mother’s actions when she was simply trying to protect her son?”

“She wasn’t trying to keep him safe, she was trying to keep him close to her even though she knew it came with risks. I don’t blame her for being unwilling to part with her son, but parents must make hard decisions that are in the best interests of their children, whether they like that decision or not. Would the Circle not have been the safest place for him if he was so susceptible to demon possession?” Gwen tried to keep a gentle tone, but monsters were not made to be gentle and the words came out harsher than she’d meant them to be. 

Alistair scoffed, “And you would know what’s best for Connor? Losing his mother and potentially his father in quick succession. How could you wish that on anyone?”

“Do not put words in my mouth,” Gwen warned, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, and her top lip curling up, “I do not wish for the boy to be miserable, but Isolde should pay for what she’s done. Her actions led to the deaths of many of the castle staff, some of whom were likely mothers. What about those children? Do they not deserve justice too, or do nobles exist above such simple things?”

She hadn’t meant to let her personal feelings into this conversation, but she couldn’t control the dam that threatened to burst in her chest, covering all those near her in the hatred spewing from her in waves.

“Isolde and Eamon aren’t like that.” All the irritation seemed to deflate out of him, as though her anger had overwhelmed his and he could do nothing but surrender. “They… took me in when I was a child and had nowhere else to go. I owe it to him to try to save his family.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, “Can you just trust me on this? I know they’re good people, and they deserve our help.”

But Gwen wasn’t ready to let go, even if her anger subsided as she watched his face soften, she felt the urge to keep going, to dig deeper, to push and push and push until something broke. “I don’t make it a habit to accept things I don’t understand, I won’t live in ignorance simply because it’s easier. I trust that you believe they are good people, but I don’t understand why this family bond is so important to you that it is worth putting the lives of hundreds of others at risk.” She exhaled sharply out of her nose and tried her best to reign it in, but the words were stuck in her throat. She hadn’t meant to upset him, but she’d done it so easily. This was why she’d been avoiding engaging in conversation, she always messed it up. No matter her intentions, she irritated people without meaning to, it was safest to avoid it as much as possible.

I want to know what I’m missing out on, Gwen wanted to say. It was too private, too vulnerable to share with a man she barely knew. This conversation had already crossed many of her boundaries, she must retain some if she was to make it through this mission. Though it was looking less and less likely every day.

Alistair glanced over to where she walked, her hair hung in her face, her head bowed to hide from him so he wouldn’t see the myriad of emotions she was struggling to suppress, “Have you ever had someone you were really close to, someone you’d risk your life for without a second thought?”

In and out, breath in and out, Gwen repeated in her head, the silence between them deafening. Do not think of her, not now, do not think of- “Yes.” 

“If that person had been threatened to be taken from you and locked up, would you not have tried to find a different way to keep them safe?” 

Gwen would have done anything to keep her safe, not that it would have done her any good in the end since it was all Gwen’s fault, always her fault, she was the reason her only friend didn’t-

Gwen gritted her teeth, “You cannot keep the ones you love safe when you put them in danger by being in your presence. By keeping Connor with her, she opened him up to possession, whether she meant to or not, that is what she did. And now she has the chance to save him, to end his torment as soon as possible. If I’d had that option I would have taken it in a heartbeat, I would have killed anyone who tried to stop me from sacrificing myself for her because that is what you do for the people you love.” That is what you do when it is your fault they are suffering.

Alistair was silent and the air felt heavy. “…Her?”

Shit, she’d been so caught up in her memories, in her feelings, she’d let that small mistake slip, and Alistair had caught it immediately. For as much as he played the goofy buffoon, he was sharper than she had initially believed. Clever, annoyingly clever. 

When she didn’t answer, Alistair sighed heavily and shook his head, “Look, I think she deserves a chance. She made a mistake, but she shouldn’t have to pay with her life. She’s important too, just like Connor. She can atone later, but she can’t do that if she’s dead. If we can help then we should, or at least try to, it’s the right thing to do.”

Gwen lifted her head, closing her eyes as she released the tension in her shoulders, she shouldn’t have gotten so riled up. The way he watched her with sympathy - with understanding - caused her heart to trill with panic. She couldn’t let him know what she’d done, she knew better than to show weakness, “Fancy yourself quite the hero, huh?” 

Make a joke, make it light, and get him to move on. She couldn’t scare him into silence, not unless she wanted more problems, so her usual go-to was not a viable option. Instead, she would take a page out of Alistair’s book and hope that he could read his own handwriting. When he cracked a wry smile, she knew she had won and relief flooded her chest, “I wouldn’t go that far. Darcy is the real hero here, I’m just tagging along for the ride and doing my best to help whenever I can. If that makes me a hero, then sure,” He puffed out his chest and deepened his voice, adding an air of pomp that made him sound ridiculous and pulled at the corner of Gwen’s lips as she fought back a smile, “Alistair, the world’s most average hero, his slogan: He’s just a guy whose trying his best. It’s enough to make any Fereldan feel safe.”

Gwen snorted a laugh, surprised at the ease with which the noise came out of her, “I don’t know, I think you’re at least high average, you should give yourself some more credit, you are great at hunting Nugs, I’m sure they have some tales of a fearsome man with spiky hair and a sinister grin.” 

“Ah yes, my most worthy of foes: the Nug," Alistair quipped sarcastically.

Gwen's chuckle trickled off into silence as she replayed their conversation in her head, stuck on one part of what he had said, “Why did the Arl of Redcliffe take you in?” She asked, tilting her head as she scrutinized his face. 

Alistair’s smile turned into more of a grimace and he rubbed the back of his neck with a heavily armoured hand, “Ah, yes, I suppose you weren’t around when I told Darcy.” He started to examine a seemingly very interesting spot on the back of his hand, “I’m, uh, sort of the bastard son of King Maric. After my mother died he sent me to live with the Arl. I lived with him for the first ten or so years of my life before I was sent to the Chantry.”

Gwen let that information sink in, digesting and mulling it over while Alistair watched her nervously, expecting some sort of reaction. After letting him sweat it out for a moment, Gwen broke her silence, “I can see now why you’d think you owed him something, things could have been much worse for a bastard. A rundown orphanage in a tiny village with no clue as to your parentage, for example.”

Alistair’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath of relief. Gwen raised an eyebrow at him, “You thought I’d be upset you’re a bastard?” 

“You don’t seem to have any love for nobles, and my being the heir to the throne and all… I was mildly afraid you were going to yell at me, or maybe stab me with those pointy daggers you’re always reaching for.”

She hated that he’d already noticed yet another one of her habits, “Only mildly?”

“Yes? Or is the threat of being run through more real than I’d previously thought?” He said, a mock-anxious tinge to his voice. 

Gwen sucked her front teeth, “I’m losing my touch, I’ll have to fix that.”

“Or, and I’m just spitballing here, you could not threaten your friends?” Alistair countered, his hands held out in mock surrender.

Gwen frowned under her bandana, “Friends? We were just arguing.” 

Alistair shrugged, his hands dropping casually to his sides, “And now we’ve made up!” He broke out into a lopsided grin, something Gwen had observed him doing often. It made him look younger, his eyes brighter, though she didn’t know how old he was, she assumed he was somewhere around her age, in his early twenties. She didn’t know her own age either, but it was her best guess.

Gwen shook her head, hiding the smile that had crept up to her eyes, the more she argued with him the more he would insist, “If you say so.” 

He puffed up his chest, “I do say so, Milady, and as the hopefully-not-future-King, what I say is law so you can’t disagree.” 

Gwen rolled her eyes, but could not suppress her smile. They lapsed into silence, however unlike prior times when Alistair would stare at her expectantly, hoping for something more than a one-word answer, he seemed almost… content? Like he was pleased with himself for getting her to speak with him, as though it was some sort of a big accomplishment. She certainly had resisted at first, but it wasn’t like she had made it particularly difficult. Or maybe she had and she just hadn’t realized it. Anything beyond frightening people was out of her expertise when it came to socializing. Though from what she had seen in her limited observations of human interactions, when someone was playing hard-to-get, they were much more obvious about it. She had gone for the ‘lay low and maybe he’ll stop being interested’ route, but when her initial plan failed to have the desired effect, she resorted to asking a pointed question that struck a nerve. Yet he still didn’t seem intent on leaving her alone. 

A spark of warmth started to unfurl in her chest, like the bud of a flower that had been frozen in ice for years and was only now starting to feel the first rays of sunlight. It unnerved her, she wasn’t supposed to feel like that, she hadn’t felt like that since she was a child. Yet the feeling didn’t last long, quickly replaced by the swirl of memories she accidentally unleashed only moments earlier. Blood, splattered across a cold forest floor, a scream cut off with an abruptness that left her ears ringing. Dread, fear, blame, it was her fault, it was all her fault. The world had been darker, she had stolen its light. She couldn’t - wouldn’t - steal another, she didn’t deserve such kindness, and Gods was Alistair blinding when he smiled at her like that.

Gwen tucked her hands into her pockets, hunching her shoulders, and slowing her pace, Alistair slowing along with her, not seeming to be aware of what she was doing, until they were mixed in with the larger group, chattering happening around them. Some were more willing to talk than others, as shown by Morrigan’s annoyed huff as Darcy directed his latest tale her way. 

Gwen dropped her gaze, but out of the corner of her eye, she watched Alistair. He blinked, having realized that they were no longer ahead of the group. A small frown pulled at his lips and he looked at her like he wanted to say something, but upon seeing her avoiding eye contact, her hands shoved into her pockets, he turned away a look of disappointment flashing across his face.

Gwen didn’t understand why he was disappointed. Usually, people were relieved to not have to speak to her, let alone be alone with her. It was something instinctual, to give her a wide berth, an old knowledge that being close to her would spell their demise. Alistair was a constant presence, always hovering near her like an overeager puppy. His attempts to engage her in conversation and make her laugh were persistent and frustrating. She couldn’t fathom why he was so intent on being around her. It was for the best she didn’t allow his curiosity to go any further. She couldn't afford to be selfish and allow herself to be swept up in this fantasy that she was deserving of attention from someone like Alistair, a Gods-damned prince. 

Gwen didn’t belong with them. As soon as she had what she was looking for - though she was still unsure what that was exactly - she would part from them. Assuming she lived long enough and that blasted song that never ceased to swirl around her skull didn’t take her first. Or Alistair didn’t run her through the moment he learned what she was hiding. It was silly of her to crave any sort of companionship with him, monsters do not deserve love and kindness, the only way a monster learns is through pain. Gwen had learned plenty of agonizing lessons, she only hoped that Alistair would not become one of them.

A/N: I think the update schedule will likely be every Sunday from now on, but if there's more interest I can try to get chapters out more frequently! What do you think Gwen's secret is?

#angst with a happy ending #slow burn #fluff #eventual smut #falling in love #humour #alistair dao #alistair dragon age #alistair theirin #alistair x original character

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 4k

Part 3/40

"I think I've come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am." - Jenny Slate

Masterlist

“So, you think you’ll want to join our crew as we valiantly fight against the Darkspawn invasion?” Darcy pulled out his sword and started duelling an invisible enemy where they stood in the courtyard of Redcliffe castle. Old blood stained the grass beneath their feet, the bodies of the undead they’d fought only a few hours beforehand strewn across the ground like discarded playthings. The smell of copper and rot filled the air but Darcy seemed bothered by none of it, instead, it seemed to almost enthuse him. “I know you almost got killed,” he said with a flippant motion of his hand, his other resting on his hip, quickly moving past that unfortunate fact, “but you aren’t afraid to fight dirty and you took down those three undead all on your own. I’d be remiss not to ask you to join our team, we could use a rogue like you. We’d have Leliana for all the- well, whatever it is she does when she’s not talking about her supposedly prophetic dreams from your Shemlen God, and you, the intimidating aura and ruthless survival skills. A perfect combination.” Darcy clasped his hands together and batted his eyelashes at her pleadingly.

“Uh,” Gwen said with all the intelligence of a wolf caught in a bear trap. Her head felt like it had been shoved full of cotton, and run over by a wagon, and the ringing music in her ears had only gotten stronger in her weakened state. 

“What our fearless leader means to say,” Alistair interjected while Gwen continued to blink at Darcy, at a loss for words, “is that we would be honoured to have your strong and ruthless fighting spirit on our side.” 

“Yes, that,” Darcy agreed. 

“Why am I being the tactful one here,” Alistair said with exasperation, “That’s usually not my strong suit.”

“Then you can rest easy, Alistair, intelligence would be a necessity, which you are sorely lacking,” Morrigan droned, her arms crossed over her chest, her robes covered in sprays of dark blood that did not belong to her. Out of all of them, she was relatively unscathed - the perks of being a mage. 

“Oh, well excuse me if I don't possess your level of intelligence, oh great and wise Bog Witch.” Alistair huffed.

“My hut was adjacent to a swamp, Alistair. Anyone with even the slightest semblance of wisdom would be aware of that fact.” Morrigan shot back, Alistair looking more and more miffed by the second. 

“Children, the both of you” Darcy cut in, stepping between the two with his hands up as though they were quarrelling school children, ”trading insults isn’t going to convince Gwen to join us.”

Gwen had been watching the exchange with tired eyes, barely hearing what they were saying in her exhausted state, still unsure how she was managing to stand on her own two feet. But at the mention of her name, she focused her gaze on Darcy. She had attempted to uncover any ulterior motives lurking in the shadows. He had seen her in action, swift and deadly with her daggers in hand. But beyond that, he knew almost nothing about her except for the way she could take down their enemy without hesitation. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person one would want hanging around your camp late at night. And yet, during their entire battle through Redcliffe castle and their talk with Lady Isolde - who was now dealing with the consequences of her poorly thought-out plan - she could find none. Darcy, Alistair, Morrigan, and even Barkspawn had had her back throughout the entire fight, save for when she had gotten separated, though that was as much her fault as it was theirs. Darcy had treated Lady Isolde with kindness and grace that she had returned with self-righteousness and a judgemental eyeing of Darcy’s ears. It had left Gwen confused as to why they were going to go out of their way to fetch a mage from the Circle to un-possess Connor at great personal risk to Darcy when it was the Arlessa who’d gotten them into that mess in the first place. She had caused the death of most of the castle’s occupants and had unleashed a horde of undead upon the people she was supposed to protect. The assassin mage they had freed from the prison had offered an easy trade, Isolde’s life for her son’s. It seemed simple to Gwen, but Darcy had refused and had instead offered an alternative that would have them making the trek back to Redcliffe from the Circle. 

By all accounts, Darcy was a good person trying to help everyone he came across, whether they deserved it or not. She wasn’t entirely convinced he wanted her to join them just because of her ability to fight, there had to be something else, some other reason he wanted to get her to travel with them. Perhaps it was as simple as having her ‘intimidating aura’ around so that others were less likely to take advantage of Darcy’s good-hearted nature, though Morrigan provided enough intimidation to scare off an entire army if she so chose to.

Did his Grey Warden senses pick up on what she hid behind her bandana? Was he trying to get her out of the town so he could put her down like the feral monster she was? It was certainly a possibility, yet he seemed too genuine to have anything sinister planned for her. 

“But,” Gwen furrowed her brow, “you don’t know anything about me.”

Darcy shrugged, “I’m good at reading people, and I can tell you’re the type of person who tries to do the right thing.” Gwen kept her lips pursed, that still didn’t negate the fact that she was hiding things about herself she had no intention of revealing, things that would turn them all against her in the blink of an eye. As if reading her thoughts, Darcy continued, “You’re a secretive person, I can tell you value your privacy, and I respect that. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, as long as you don’t plan on betraying us that is.” He grinned as though he’d told a funny joke. No one laughed. Morrigan looked as disinterested as humanly possible, and Alistair… Alistair was looking at her with barely concealed curiosity and a dash of hope that made her heart start to race. He was going to be a problem. He couldn’t find out what she was or what she’d done. Even men with the kindest of faces could be hiding viciousness underneath. She was sure that that curiosity would turn to disgust, fear, and hatred. Feelings she couldn’t afford a Grey Warden to have for her, not if she wanted to complete what she had set out to do.

Gwen rubbed at her eyes with a bloody hand, probably smearing it all over her face, but she found she didn’t care, “I guess I’ll join you, for now.” These people held the key to her salvation - answers about the Darkspawn and an end to the incessant ringing in her head that was slowly driving her crazy. She was determined to get what she needed from them, no matter what it took. And if they tried to kill her, well, she’d either kill them first, or she’d be put out of her misery. At least she could say she tried. 

Darcy squealed and clapped happily like a child being given a puppy for their birthday. Alistair's face lit up with a large, toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement and Morrigan continued to look as disinterested as she always did. Barkspawn barked happily, his butt wiggling with the force of his enthusiasm. 

“But first, I need sleep and maybe some more health potions.” Gwen swayed on her feet, leaning a hand against the cool castle wall for stability. Alistair winced and took a step forward, reaching out like he intended to hold her arm, but stopped when Gwen shied away, dropping his arms and looking away awkwardly. She supposed it wasn’t entirely irrational, considering he had all but carried her into the throne room to confront Lady Isolde and the demon wearing her son like a skin suit. He appeared amiable enough, but on instinct Gwen had cringed away from him, her mind immediately going into survival mode. Every muscle in her body had tensed, ready to defend or flee at a moment's notice. It wasn't that she thought he would harm her, but over the years it had become ingrained in her the need to constantly be aware and prepared for any potential danger. She couldn't control these automatic survival instincts, they guided everything she did and they kept her safe. She didn’t correct herself or apologize either, she didn’t need him thinking he could just touch her whenever he wanted, that would lead to complications she wanted to avoid experiencing again. 

Darcy heartily agreed - Gwen was relieved to turn Alistair’s attention away from her - having already asked Bann Teagen to allow them to stay the night in the castle, he got the attention of a soldier who pointed them in the direction of the guest wing. There were only two spare rooms available that didn’t have dead, rotting corpses being cleaned out of them, so they had to split who slept where. Darcy, Alistair, and Barkspawn took one room, while Morrigan and Gwen took the other. Gwen wasted no time and quickly exited, making her escape to the room. Thankful that there were two twin beds inside the little room and just enough walking space to comfortably fit two people. The last thing she wanted was to roll over, have her bandana shift, and for Morrigan to wake up to a face full of unnatural split cheeks and sharp, pointed teeth. Having separate beds meant that Gwen could ensure that the covers stayed over her head while she slept to avoid any accidental face reveals. And a dagger in hand for good measure. 

The late evening light shone through the small window on the far wall, the orange and pink colours of the sunset illuminating the old wooden furniture, knicks and scratches carved into the surface speaking to the lives of those who had previously occupied the room, servants who were more than likely dead. A worn carpet that once must have been a lively shade of red now sat brown with age and askew, dejected on the cold stone floor. The pillows were indented in the middle as though they hadn’t been moved since their last owner had peacefully slept the night away, unaware of the dangers that lurked around the corner. Gwen’s stomach rolled and she quickly turned her thoughts to other matters, unwilling to stay on that distressing subject.

Morrigan followed soon after her, casting her a cursory glance before complaining about the lack of service and proclaiming she would leave to find a clean bucket of water to wash herself with. Gwen doubted she would be successful, but was pleased to have the room to herself for a moment so she did not point that out.

In her absence, Gwen peeled off her armour, blood-crusted clothes following suit until she was only in her smalls. She felt vulnerable in this state, her pale, blue-tinted skin like that of a corpse was littered with scars, most she did not care if anyone saw, but the ones that she did… well she’d rather not have to explain them. The most haunting were the ones around her neck, wrists, and ankles, as though something had dug into her skin slowly for a long time. They left jagged edges and indentations, discoloured skin and marks that at one time had clearly been worn down to the bone. Her back was more raised red scar tissue than regular skin, long strips intersected with smaller ones made her back look like a gruesome patchwork quilt.

She doubted Morrigan would ask questions, nor did Gwen feel compelled to answer should any arise. She didn’t want to talk about them and she hoped that Darcy had meant what he said about respecting her privacy. She’d never travelled with anyone before, so she wasn’t sure what to expect. But even if they didn’t ask, they were sure to come to their own conclusions, and she wasn’t sure if she liked that any better. 

Gwen quickly re-tied her bandana, ensuring that it was tight - almost too tight - against her face, and threw on her cleanest tunic before flopping into bed. She didn’t care that she was sweaty and covered in blood, there would be a lot more of that in her near future. And right now, her battered and bruised body, having consumed a few too many healing potions that were pulling on her body’s depleted energy stores to heal her many wounds, was too exhausted to do anything else but sleep. Thankfully, she had enough awareness to ensure that her favourite dagger was clutched tightly in hand and the blankets pulled up and over her head. It was comforting, a familiar habit she had developed in her youth - though the sheets of her childhood had been threadbare and stained a variety of disturbing colours and these sheets were soft and downy as one would expect of linen that was kept in a prestigious castle. As she curled up under the covers, she was quickly lost to sleep and her mind was consumed by familiar terrors. She was trapped in a relentless cycle of nightmares, as she was every night for as long as she could remember, another curse of her existence. Before long, she was lost in the depths of sleep's dark grip where her deeply suppressed memories came out to haunt her.

***

When Gwen woke the next morning, the early morning rays shining softly through the window, she was not surprised to find Morrigan gone. However, she was shocked to see a small glass bottle filled with a glowing red liquid, and a delicate porcelain cup filled with clear water that had been placed carefully at her bedside. Having rested and healed up quite well she had no current use for the healing potion and carefully to tucked it away for later. Gwen sniffed the water suspiciously and then decided she was being ridiculous, if someone - likely Morrigan as she was sure the castle servants were too busy to provide such frivolous items to guests -  had wanted to kill her they had plenty of opportunity while Gwen had been unconscious all night. 

She drank the water and didn’t immediately keel over. She declared it a victory, threw on her clothes, and went to find a bucket of water for a speedy sponge bath, hoping that with the continued cleaning of the castle, it wouldn’t be too hard to come by. It didn’t take too long searching to find one and haul it back to the still-empty room along with some bread and apples she had found stashed in the cellar. As she sat down to eat, a sense of relief flooded through her. She could enjoy a meal without Alistair's attentive gaze following her every move. The thought of being constantly watched while they were on the road together made her stomach churn. So for now, she took solace in this moment of solitude, savouring each bite as if it were her last. The quiet rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds provided a peaceful soundtrack to her meal, a temporary escape from the journey ahead.

She emerged from the castle's entrance, her eyes scanning the area for her new companions. She spotted them standing in a small group, their figures silhouetted against the rising sun. They were all armed and armoured, ready to set off. Despite the early hour, the sun shone brightly on them, highlighting their features and casting shadows along the gravel path. Behind her, the castle stood tall and imposing, with its stone walls and towers reaching towards the sky, unwelcoming and urging her to move out of its grasp. She nodded at them, not willing to say much more at the time, loath to admit that she wasn’t a morning person lest they learn that weakness.

“You snore in your sleep,” Morrigan remarked with disgust, before turning on her heel and marching off. Gwen's eyebrows furrowed, creating deep lines on her forehead as she tried to recall the sound of her own snoring, her lips pulled into a slight grimace.

“Don’t let her get to you,” Alistair said, coming to stand beside her, looking at Morrigan’s retreating form with a scowl marring his face, “She’s all bark and very little bite.” 

“It’s okay,” Gwen shrugged, “she reminds me of a barn cat I once… roomed with. It would hiss at me whenever I tried to pet it, but when I woke up at night it had curled itself into a ball at my back. I don’t know if it liked to cuddle or was just stealing my body heat, but I enjoyed it all the same.” She didn’t add that by ‘rooming’ she meant stowing away, it wasn’t relevant to the conversation and Alistair really didn’t need to know. No need to pique his curiosity any more than it already was. 

“That is… an oddly apt analogy,” Darcy murmured, shooting her a surprised look. 

“I think it has some room for improvement,” Alistair interjected, “how about instead of a cute, cuddly cat, she’s prickly lizard? Or maybe something that breathes fire and poisons everything it touches.” 

Gwen started walking after said prickly, fire-breathing, poisonous lizard, “It’s your head if she hears you calling her that.”

“It’s always my head with Morrigan,” Alistair grumbled, but he reluctantly trailed after her as they began their journey toward the Ferelden Circle. His heavy footsteps echoed against the cobblestone path, and he glared holes into Morrigan’s back, who seemed determined to ignore him.

While they left Redcliffe, Darcy quickly explained that the rest of their group, Leliana, the aforementioned rogue, and Sten, a Qunari warrior had gone ahead to scout for Darkspawn in the area. They were to meet mid-morning on the outskirts of Redcliffe. 

“Do you usually split up when heading into battle? Surely more fighters would be better,” she’d asked.

To which Darcy had nonchalantly replied, “It’s best to be prepared for whatever lies next so we don’t march headfirst into a trap after a particularly taxing battle,” he stayed quiet for a moment, “besides, if we were to all die then there would be no one to carry on the fight against the Blight. Someone has to make sure that Ferelden survives this.” His eyes were focused on the horizon, his jaw set, a subtle shift in his stance. The lightheartedness with which he had so far carried himself momentarily vanished as she saw a hint of the leader within him emerge. Despite the constant presence of Grey Wardens and their threat, she couldn't help but feel reassured by Darcy's fierce determination to end the Blight and silence the ever-present haunting music in her mind. For once, she felt like she might have made a good decision in following him.

They met up with the two other companions and Darcy regaled them with tales of their battle, acting out his most favourite parts, and greatly exaggerating how easy it was. Gwen thought about pointing out that she’d almost died, but felt like Darcy would take to that in the same way as a child would take to having their favourite toy tossed into the mud. Besides, the orange-haired woman - who Gwen assumed must be Leliana - was watching him with rapt attention, and she couldn’t bring herself to diminish the small woman’s joy. The large Qunari on the other hand seemed to have tuned out immediately and stared at the horizon, face set in what she could guess was a permanent scowl. She’d seen a few Qunari before, and his attitude seemed par for the course.

“Is he always like this?” Gwen tilted her head towards Darcy as she whispered to Alistair. He shot her a quizzical look. 

“Always like what?” 

Gwen waved him off with a shake of her head and he went back to eagerly watching his friend. 

As the story came to a close, Darcy officially introduced her to the two new companions, although she couldn't help but feel like she was actually the newcomer. Leliana bound excitedly up to her and expressed her joy at having another woman to travel with, and Sten followed up her statement questioning if Gwen was a woman at all, given that they could not see her face and her figure was hidden under her armour. Gwen held back a sigh as Darcy admonished him in a joking tone for being ‘blind to Gwen’s obvious womanly ways’. There had been many reasons why Gwen had never travelled with a group before this, but she could add a new reason to the list; constantly being around differing, colourful personalities was exhausting and it hadn’t even been an hour yet. 

Maybe ending the Blight wasn’t worth it after all. 

Once Morrigan started barking at them for their ‘ridiculous chattering’ and urging them to move on before the Blighted Army descended upon all of Thedas, the group started their Northward journey. 

It didn’t take long for them to share the details of how their quest had begun. The Teryn who commanded King Cailan’s army, Loghain Mac Tir, had betrayed the King and retreated during the battle of Ostagar when they had called for help, abandoning those fighting and resulting in the King’s death, along with Duncan, Alistair’s Grey Warden mentor and the man who had recruited Darcy only a week before the battle. Alistair had tried to hide the sorrow that had crossed his face at the mention of his former mentor, but even his witty sarcasm couldn’t hide that deep sort of pain. Gwen made note to not bring it up. If not for the timely intervention of Flemeth, the famed Witch of the Wilds, and Morrigan’s mother, Darcy and Alistair would have perished as well. Their current objectives were to invoke the Grey Warden treaties with the Dwarves, Elves, and Mages to get aid in hunting down the Archdemon and its Darkspawn Army. Darcy recited the tale to Gwen, who only responded with a grunt of confirmation. The amount of information was overwhelming and gave her a great deal to think about.

Gwen quickly learned how to tune out the sounds around her and focus on the road ahead. It had limited success as she was often roped into conversations by Alistair - which of course it was him trying to include her, he probably thought he was doing her a favour - but she did not care to partake in them, something that he didn’t seem to be able to grasp. Sometimes, a sharp glare was enough to get him to leave her alone, but once he learned that the glare was never followed up with acts of violence, he started to push more and more. 

Maker, it had only been two days and already she wanted to throttle the Grey Warden. She refused to let herself be pulled in by his attempted thoughtfulness. She didn’t need it, she didn’t need to be included, and she was quite fine walking in silence until she could get what she wanted. She knew better than to allow herself to fall for this, she was a monster, a freak, an unlovable creature. She did not deserve their kindness and the guilt of deceiving them into thinking she wasn’t rotten at the core of her being threatened to choke her. She had tried to go against her nature once, but that had only ended in pain, and she had never wanted to feel that kind of pain again, nor inflict it on others. She had kept to herself over the years, but now, surrounded by people, she felt that loneliness crush around her. It was silly, but seeing these people be able to joke around and be open with each other in a way that she would never be able to, only widened that aching space within her heart where… where she had been. This would be harder than Gwen had anticipated, but to get her answers, she would do just about anything.

Next Chapter

A/N: I would love to hear your thoughts!

#angst with a happy ending #slow burn #fluff #eventual smut #falling in love #humour #alistair dao #alistair dragon age #alistair theirin #alistair x original character

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 3.5k

Part 2/40

Trigger warnings: Mildly graphic descriptions of violence, cannon typical

“Inside me, something seethes. Inside me, some feral animal claws at my ribcage, trapped.” - Molly McCully Brown

Masterlist

Finding out that Darcy was also a Grey Warden was not a welcome surprise, but in the heat of battle, it was not something Gwen could use any brain power to digest, lest she get run through by the undead overwhelming them.

Gwen's dagger was slick with dark blood as she yanked it out of the undead's ribcage. She spun around just in time to see another creature lunging towards her. With swift reflexes, she brought both daggers down in a protective stance, ready to fend off the attack that she had sensed coming from behind. She could handle a slash or two to her limbs, but she was rather reticent to have her internal organs spill out on the cold, dirty ground. Through the haze of battle, her eyes focused on the grey and blue armour the figure was wearing and she faltered. It was Alistair, and instead of moving in to attack, he had his back to her, guarding her from the enemies surrounding them. If he hadn’t been there, she would have likely been skewered already. She’d gotten sloppy, though it was due to lack of sleep from fighting the never-ending onslaught of creatures for multiple nights in a row, she was still kicking herself for letting the Grey Warden sneak up on her like that. He could have very easily been waiting for her strength to wane and use that moment to strike, having realized the truth that rotted at her core.

“Thought you could use the help!” Alistair called to her over his shoulder as his mouth curved into a wide grin, revealing straight, white teeth. His eyes crinkled at the corners and shone with mischief and warmth.

“You’re enjoying this a concerning amount.” Gwen huffed, cutting down a corpse that had gotten too close, and moving to flank him as the undead pressed their attack

“What’s not to love about putting the dead back where they belong?” Alistair bashed one creature with his shield, sending it careening away, and slashing at another, aimed perfectly for its neck and severing its still gnashing head. He grunted in disgust, “They don’t know when to quit.”

Gwen laughed lowly, but all banter ceased as another wave emerged from the castle.

By the time they had dispatched the last of the undead, bodies littering the ground, Gwen was surprised to find herself still standing. She’d had her fair share of tough fights, still, the exhaustion from previous nights coupled with the sheer intensity of their enemies from the most recent fight had her staggering. She collapsed in a controlled fall onto the blood-soaked ground, catching herself on her hands and knees so she didn’t tilt forward and face plant in the grotesque remains of the body in front of her. She let her eyes close for a moment her breath coming rapid and hot as she took a moment to let the dizziness fade. The smell of sweat covered her, a mix of salt and stale air. Underneath the fabric of her bandana, there was a faint hint of metal, like the tang of iron after a rain. As she peeled it just an inch off her skin, the musty scent intensified, mixed with the thick odour of blood and death. The air beneath the cloth was thick and humid, carrying the metallic scent with each breath she took.

Gwen slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the harsh light that shone from the sun peeking over the horizon. As her vision adjusted, she saw a small glass container in front of her, filled with a bright red liquid that seemed to glow. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing, the tanned hand that held it registering as safe in her tired brain, despite her confusion, and she didn’t jump back any further. Instead, she looked up at the tired - yet still somehow cheery - face of the Grey Warden who had fought alongside her for most of the night. Not to be mistaken with the other Grey Warden who had fought closely with his dog and the apostate - whose sneer, Gwen had discovered, never left her face, no matter the situation.

“You look like you could use a health potion,” Alistair said as he shook the bottle enticingly.

Gwen kept her expression neutral, not moving from her spot, “I think the battle-weary look suits me.”

“Ah, my mistake, a hardened rogue such as yourself would have no use for petty luxuries such as this.” He spoke in a mock-formal tone, bowing his head to keep his goofy smile from ruining his charade.

Gwen grunted her reply, not having enough energy to bother with something coherent and lifted her heavy arm to accept it. Alistair grinned triumphantly and placed the potion in her outstretched hand.

Gwen waited for him to leave, but when it was apparent that he wasn’t budging, his eyes were fixed on her like a hawk stalking its prey, curious and eager for whatever surprise or deception she might unveil.

“Thanks?”

“You’re most welcome, My Lady,” Alistair replied, unmoving.

She uncorked the bottle, glancing to where he was still standing, watching her, his fists resting on his hips, seeming strangely pleased with himself. Her paranoia reared its head, she narrowed her eyes at him and sniffed the bottle.

Alistair’s face fell, “I didn’t poison it, who do you think I am, Morrigan?” His voice was a few octaves higher in his disbelief.

“I don’t know any of you,” Gwen pointed out.

“But… but we just fought together! Does our warrior's bond mean nothing to you?” Alistair whined dramatically, his shoulders slumping forward. Gwen was mildly sure it was all an act, the corners of her lips quirking up at his hysterics.

“I suppose you would have let me die on the battlefield if that was your goal.” Gwen conceded. Alistair immediately perked up and Gwen held back her laughter at the exuberance with which he did so. How he had so much energy after that fight was beyond her.

“See, we’re bonded, now you’ll never get rid of me.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow, “That remains to be seen.”

Alistair’s eyes glinted like the cat who’d caught the canary, “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I can tell.”

Alistair’s smile turned to a frown, then back to a smile, only to return to a frown once more, “I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult.”

Gwen didn’t know either if she was telling the truth. This was the most she’d spoken amicably with anyone in a long time. She settled for staring at him, her face carefully composed into a neutral expression. She didn’t know what to say so she simply just didn’t speak.

Alistair shifted his weight uneasily, as her intense gaze bore into him. Good, She had a certain aloofness that she had worked hard to cultivate. No Grey Warden would come crashing through and shatter her carefully crafted demeanour. Of course, she would never let Alistair witness her drinking the potion - she couldn't risk his curiosity getting the best of him and peeking under the cloth she had draped over her face.

“Right,” He said, before giving her a lopsided grin, “I suppose I should check in with our other companions, can’t have them thinking I’m playing favourites.”

Gwen nodded her acknowledgment, and when Alistair finally seemed to understand that she was done talking, he left with a sigh she wasn’t sure if he meant for her to hear.

Gwen pinched the bridge of her nose, this boy was going to be a problem, too earnest and eager for his own good. He seemed interested to know her, but if she ever let him find out, she was sure he’d kill her on the spot. It was what Grey Wardens did, kill creatures like her. She couldn’t fault him for following his duty, but she had not come this close to her first Darkspawn encounter to stop now.

She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before lifting her bandana just enough to slip the potion underneath and chug it back. Warmth spread through her body as she felt little cuts and scraps start to heal, the weariness draining out of her bones, and for one blissful minute, the whispers ringing in her skull died down to a bare simmer.

It didn’t last long, but she’d take any relief she could get.

***

Gwen had been hoping the castle would have been deserted. Her mind was in turmoil as she thought back to all the times she had hoped for an easy solution. But each time, reality proved her wrong. It was as if the universe took pleasure in denying her desires as if there was a force determined to make her life harder. Yet, despite this knowledge, she couldn't help but wish for an easier path once again.

She’d met back up with the Warden crew once they’d spoken with Bann Teagan. Though they had let him likely let him go to his death, they’d at least gotten access to a back entrance to make their journey through the castle easier.

Or so they’d thought.

The castle was crawling with undead, sometimes literally. If Gwen thought she’d been exhausted before, she was now learning an entirely new definition of the word. They’d run out of healing potions a few rooms ago, and as Darcy opened the next one with a confident, “How many more undead can there even be?” they were promptly overrun.

Gwen didn’t know how much blood was her own, her companions, or the creatures’. Her muscles screamed with exertion, her lungs struggling to draw breath through the irritating piece of cloth she insisted on wearing at all times. If they saw her face now and decided to cut her down, she would barely be able to lift a finger against them. No, this was the price she paid.

Through the sea of undead pushing Gwen back, she saw her companions pulled further into the room, leaving her and three skeletal warriors pressing in on her.

But Gwen was not a quitter. She hadn’t made it this far, through all of the utter shit life had thrown at her, just to end up bleeding out on some pompous noble’s stone floor, killed by a creature made up of decaying skin and bones. Her body was a vessel of unbridled rage, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. She refused to accept defeat, determined to fight until the bitter end.

A snarl ripped out of her throat as she crouched, analyzing the corpses' weak points, their exposed spines glinting in the torchlight. She lunged at the nearest undead creature, driving her dagger deep into its rib cage and slicing through the thick bone with a sickening crunch. With one swift motion, she severed the body in half as it collapsed to the ground, its lifeless limbs clattering against the stone floor.

However, there were still two more creatures to deal with. These two were faster than the previous one Gwen had just taken down. Or perhaps she was just getting slower as she was worn down fight after fight.

The sharp edge of a sword sliced into Gwen's left wrist, causing her to scream in agony as she lost her grip on her dagger. She stumbled backwards, pressing her back against the unyielding wall as she gasped for air, her injured arm trembling with pain and shock. With her remaining strength, she brandished her other dagger in a desperate warning to stay away, lest she tear them apart like she had with the first of their comrades. But the dead did not listen to the living.

The corpse kicked her dropped dagger across the room where it slid under a large wooden cabinet. She swore under her breath, having been trying to figure out how to reach it, but there was no reaching it now. She had one less weapon and a useless arm as blood flowed from the wound that had sliced down to the bone. She glanced briefly towards the door leading to the other room, but all she could see was more undead flailing their weapons, her companions were nowhere in sight, but the sound of their combat reached her keen ears. She would have prayed for their safety but with her luck that would only spell their downfall.

The corpse closest to her, the bigger of the two, lashed out with its rusted long sword, aiming directly for her neck. Gwen ducked, rolling to the side, only to hit a surprisingly sturdy body that reeked of death and had her swallowing back a retch.

She had been right earlier, she was slower, they were faster, and smarter than the previous undead she’d fought. They had anticipated her move and the smaller corpse had rushed over to stand in her way, jostling her and abruptly disrupting her movement, unbalancing her as panic shot through her limbs like lightning.

She sucked in a breath of shock as her body recoiled - immediately regretting it as her stomach roiled with the stench wafting off their bodies - pain flaring up her previously uninjured arm, sharp and hot as metal tore through her shoulder. They’d trapped her and rendered her arms useless all within the span of a few seconds. She couldn’t let them get that many hits on her without retaliation or she was sure she would lose. With a surge of adrenaline, she swung blindly in front of her, striking something solid before feeling the satisfying resistance of flesh and bone as the blade buried itself deep into her attacker's chest.

Her knees buckled, her body hitting the ground and she barely managed to roll out of the way of another slash, her dagger now stuck in the crumbling body of the undead she’d just killed. At least her arm had lasted long enough to get one last good hit in.

Her arms trembled and burned with agony as she pushed herself up from the hard ground, her fingers digging into the dirt for support. Each movement caused a searing pain to shoot through her limbs, as if they were being torn apart from the inside. The fire continued to spread through her body, making it difficult to focus on anything else but the intense agony. She knew she needed to move, to defend herself, but each second felt like an eternity as the pain consumed her. Maker, did she ever hate these blasted creatures.

The corpse closed in on her, it had taken away her ability to defend herself and salivated at the thought of its assured victory. Or at least, that’s what it believed. It may have been smarter than most undead she’d faced, but even mortals often failed to realize what she kept hidden under her bandana.

She smiled to herself, like the Void she’d let this be her end.

With one firm tug from her least injured hand, the bandana hung around her neck, revealing her face to the creature charging at her. It did not falter, for it did not know fear, but even if it had, it would not have changed its fate. Gwen hissed, lowering herself to her haunches, looking all the more feral as she brandished her hidden weapon, the reason for her reclusiveness, and the years of memories from childhood she’d banished away to the darkest recesses of her mind. Her greatest shame and her best weapon.

Her large teeth glinted in the low light, sharp as the canines of a wolf, gritted together as she snarled. Her lips parted and so too did the flesh of her cheeks, the muscle and skin splitting in a grotesque charade of a smile until it stopped below her cheekbones. And when she let her jaw gape wide, like that of a snake’s before it devoured its prey, much wider than any human should be capable of, she sprang forth, pushing herself off the wall using the strength that still resided in her legs to kick the remaining corpse square in his chest, toppling it to the ground.

Gwen didn’t have the balance she needed to stay standing on its chest, but she didn’t need to. She pressed her knees against its writhing body and with primal ferocity, she sank her teeth into its neck, feeling the satisfying crunch of vertebrae between her jaws. She ripped back with all her might until the sound of tearing flesh drowned out all other noise. A vile taste filled her mouth - the long rotten blood of her enemy - as she clutched its severed head in her gaping maw, triumphant and unstoppable.

She spat the head onto the ground, gagging as the taste of mildew and gore filled her senses. She hunched over, her arms cradled to her stomach as she tried not to empty its contents. Her teeth were coated in a thick layer of black blood, dripping down her chin in a macabre display. Though she was a terrifying sight, at least she was still alive, her survival hard-won and evident in the fierce glint in her eyes as she surveyed the carnage around her.

“Gwen!” She heard Alistair shout her name, armoured footsteps pounding as he ran towards her. In her exhausted and nauseated daze, it took her a moment to realize that her face was bare and covered in evidence of her brutality.

No, no, no. He can’t see me like this, if he does he’ll know what I am, he’ll know I am a monster, and he’ll kill me without hesitation. Gwen thought in a panic as she scrambled, her bleeding and broken arms as coordinated as a doe learning to walk, barely managing to pull the cloth over her face a fraction of a second before Alistair burst through the doorway, sword and shield in hand as he surveyed the room and the carnage she had unleashed.

She watched him, panting from her hunched-over position, her eyes dull and her legs ready to spring forth and run should he turn his weapons on her.

Alistair’s jaw dropped. Darcy appeared at his side, wielding his dual swords, and let out a low whistle. “You know how to put up a good fight.”

“I have no intentions of dying today.” Gwen winced as her arms prickled with pain. Barkspawn peeked out from behind Darcy’s legs, tilting his head at her as though he didn’t understand what she was doing on the ground.

“Did you rip its head off?” Darcy asked with far too much glee in his voice.

“Do all Grey Wardens enjoy such violence or is it just the two of you?” Gwen deflected stonily. She could let him think she ripped its head off as long as he thought it was with her hands, and not her rather sharp teeth.

Darcy’s smile faltered and Alistair grimaced as he walked towards her, “We’re the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, so in a way, you’re correct.” He said quietly, crouching beside her and putting a hand on her elbow with a gentleness she had not expected. He looked at her in question and she realized he was offering to help her stand.

“I’m sorry,” Gwen had no idea how to react in this situation, people didn’t usually come to her with their grief. They carried sorrowful expressions on their faces, their eyes downcast and their shoulders slumped. Despite their attempts to mask it, the sharpness of this loss was written all over their faces. Even Barkspawn's normally playful demeanour seemed subdued.

“No good heroes have happy backstories,” Darcy joked, though it fell flat. Gwen averted her gaze and allowed Alistair to help her up. He wrapped his arm under her shoulders as he walked her forward. She leaned more of her weight on him than she wanted to, but it was either that or pass out as the blood rushed to her toes and her vision swam, the whispers that plagued her ringing louder in her ears. Alistair pursued his lips as he watched her.

“No poisoned health potions to offer this time?” She wanted him to stop watching her with such intent concern, and given his penchant for making light of all situations, she reasoned a joke would distract him sufficiently.

The crease in Alistair’s brow eased as the corner of his lips quirked up, “You can borrow some of Morrigan’s.”

“None shall borrow anything of mine, lest they risk losing a hand,” Morrigan called from somewhere in the other room, having not bothered to come check on Gwen. She didn’t mind, it was clear that she preferred solitary company and was not used to being around others. As someone who often kept to herself, Gwen could understand the witch's behaviour. This experience was new for her, to be a part of a group, even if it was only temporary. Most people did not take too kindly to the quiet rogue who refused to show her face and she doubted it would take long before they started asking questions she was unwilling to answer.

“I borrow her brush when she’s not looking to give Barkspawn a good grooming,” Alistair whispered conspiratorially.

Gwen chuckled, “As long as you don’t drop me, your secret is safe with me.”

Alistair grinned, “Deal.”

Next Chapter

A/N: RIP Gwen, you would have loved straws (The meme format, not cause im gonna kill her, I promise)

#angst with a happy ending #slow burn #fluff #eventual smut #falling in love #humour #alistair x original character #alistair dao #alistair dragon age #alistair theirin #Alistair x OC #Gwen

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOriginal Character Fic

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 1/40

Summary: - 'I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break.' - Mary Hornbacher

Gwen had spent so long on her own, distanced from the world behind a mask of her own making, that when he smiled at her like she hung the moon and the stars, she thought she would be blinded by the need that coursed through her rotten veins. She was not a creature that deserved love, but by the Maker did she need Alistair like she needed the air in her tired lungs.

Masterlist

“It takes a special kind of person to hide away in an abandoned hovel instead of help fight to save the town that one is currently residing in.” Gwen could barely conceal the anger rolling in her tone like the sound of distant thunder, the dark blue bandana covering from her oddly flat nose down to her neck shielding the dwarf from the full effect of her fury. Yet, from the look of shocked outrage wrinkling the skin of his large forehead, he at least seemed to understand what she was implying. “I thought dwarves were supposed to be brave and strong,” she continued, “but all I see is a whiny coward who is far past his golden days.”

The dwarf’s chair creaked against the wooden floor as he stood up in a rush, apoplectic and red in the face, “You know nothing of me, girl, I have fought my battles, you cannot cow me into joining human militia,” he spat the words like they were dirt on his tongue, “I may as well string myself up and lather my body in butter for those beasts to snack on, all the good that’ll do me.”

Gwen crossed her arms over her chest, the muscles in her jaw twitching with irritation. She was finding it increasingly difficult to think as that ever-present whisper shivered down her spine, drifting through her in a way that threatened to consume her carefully balanced poise and turn her into the feral creature she knew lurked underneath. She’d come all this way, fought night after night against the undead raiding this town like a plague, and this is what she got? A cowardly dwarf who refused to help in a fight?

When she’d first heard that there was a veteran dwarf holed up in this tiny room off the town centre of Redcliffe, she’d figured it couldn’t be that hard to convince him to join up.

She should have known than to underestimate a dwarf’s stubbornness.

Gwen placed her hands on the table between them, leaning forward so she towered over his seated form, “If you do not join the militia, I will ensure that it is not for lack of will, but for lack of physical capability,” she snarled, her lips curling back under the blue fabric. Dwyn froze, all that righteous indignation falling from his face as his eyes flickered downwards to where the dark blue fabric rested against her starkly pale skin.

Gwen's usually calm composure transformed, her anger pulsing through her body and emanating off of her like a dark aura. As she towered over the dwarf in front of her, his eyes darted around nervously, searching for an escape. The air around them felt charged with fear as Gwen leaned closer.

“What are you?” Dwyn's eyes narrowed as he looked at Gwen with suspicion and distaste, taking in the blueish hue of her flesh and the unnatural wispy grey of her eyes. His gaze lingered on the bandana for a moment, a subtle sign of his fear and uncertainty.

Gwen cocked her head to the side, her voice cold enough to send chills running down the dwarf’s spine, “Would you like to find out?”

Dwyn, realizing this line of questioning was not going to get him anywhere pleasant, shook his head, “I know a freak when I see one, you don’t gotta tell me twice,” he grumbled at her, picking up his axe from where it rested against the floor, the metal scraping against the wood of the floor.

Gwen stood tall, her shoulders squared and chin lifted in defiance, giving no indication that his name-calling hurt her, and in truth, it didn’t, not in any way that mattered. She’d heard it from people for her entire life - freak, monster, demon - and she’d learned that it only ever genuinely hurt when it came from those she cared about. And she didn’t have anyone she cared about anymore, so she was immune to such petty name-calling. At least until she would crawl into bed, her blood stinging as it ran through veins not made to carry its toxicity, the familiar names echoing in her mind like screams into a canyon, adding to the constant clamour that plagued her every night.

The rustling of fabric and shifting of items could be heard as Dwyn adjusted his pack, the heavy clanking of metal objects and creaking of leather indicative of the weight he carried. His footsteps were quick and hurried as he tried to make a swift exit, avoiding Gwen’s intense stare that she shot like daggers against his skin. A door creaked open and stayed that way as a gust of wind slammed it into the outside wall. The room fell quiet once again, with only the lingering echoes of Gwen's heavy exhale breaking the stillness.

Despite being skilled at intimidating others, it was a role that she despised. She had spent years perfecting the art of appearing non-threatening, constantly walking on eggshells to avoid provoking anyone, while at the same time unnerving others enough with her blank stares and tense posture - as though she was ready to strike at any moment - that they left her alone. She knew the consequences of revealing her true self, and she had no desire to relive those moments of her life, they were best buried in the past.

“Huh, I thought we’d have to do all that hard work ourselves but it looks like someone beat us to it.” The voice was a rich, warm timbre that rumbled from the depths of the speaker's chest. It was confident and bold, yet playful and mischievous, adding a touch of humour to the tense atmosphere. Despite its deepness, the voice carried easily, demanding the attention of anyone within earshot “It’s too bad, I was kind of hoping to try my hand at scaring the breeches off a dwarf.”

Gwen, who had been so lost in her thoughts, and that horrible, whispering voice that bounced around the base of her skull - too quiet to make out the words, but just loud enough to be impossible to ignore - she hadn’t heard the stranger’s approach. As she whirled around, her eyes wide with panic, she realized she had not only missed the speaker’s approach but that of his two companions and Mabari hound as well.

Shit, they’d startled her and she’d been so wrapped up in her own head she had forgotten to put on her mildly intimidating act.

Unsafe, unsafe, unsafe, her brain repeated to herself. Unhelpful, she wanted to add.

She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling under her bandana in an attempt to look less like a nug that had been caught outside its burrow. She focused on the elf leading the group who stands tall and willowy but proud. His features were sharp and defined, with piercing dark eyes that seemed as endless as the night sky. His chiselled jawline gave him the air of confidence and arrogance though it was softened by his expertly styled hair that cascaded back in loose burnished-brown curls that hugged the nap of his neck. The sassy smirk he wore on his lips that showed off the dimples of his cheeks made it clear he knew how attractive he was.

Gwen held back an eye-roll, but the handsome elf’s companion, a dark-haired mage judging by the wooden staff strapped to her back, who was beautiful in an I’ll-kill-you-with-one-withering-stare-and-a-cutting-remark kind of way, held no such reservations. She’d never seen an eye-roll of such high calibre sass, but she couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship with the woman, one she was sure would not be reciprocated.

“You could not ‘scare the breeches’ off of a blushing maiden, Darcy,” the woman spoke in a mocking tone, her accent posh and refined, “let alone a washed-up soldier, dwarf or otherwise.”

Gwen would have to agree, he was much too slight to scare anyone, and his light leather armor did little to invoke the image of a powerful warrior. His beauty was a delicate sort, his cheekbones may have been as sharp as crystalline glass, but they would shatter all the same.

The man, Darcy - as the woman had called him -, feigned a deep and horrid pain, clutching at his chest dramatically, “You wound me, Morrigan, and in front of our new friend too. Do you never tire of mocking me?”

“When you no longer provide fuel for my mocking, I will consider relenting.”

The Mabari barked his agreement.

“Traitor.” Darcy hissed, scowling down at the short-furred beast, its tongue lolling happily out of its mouth.

“Right.” Gwen kept her arms loose but prepared to strike, they did not yet seem to be a threat, but she had learned long ago to never trust first appearances, “What do you want?”

Darcy opened his hands in a gesture meant to appease her, “I appreciate a woman who is straight to the point. Murdock told us all about the masked stranger who’d been helping them fight back the undead hoards that have been descending upon their good city and we’ve completed all the other tasks he’d given to you. Well, save for Dwyn, but it seems you have that one handled.” Darcy smirked at her.

Gwen eyed the strangers, looking at the last companion she had yet to hear speak up. The man’s strawberry blond hair was kept short to his head except for a little more length in the front that stuck up a bit, little whisps trailed down over his forehead as though the hair disagreed with this arrangement and wished it to be known. His strong chin was dusted with a light goatee, and his sturdy warrior’s frame towered over his smaller friends. He stood behind them, but as his warm brown eyes met hers, she wondered why he let the much smaller two lead. It was a scene of unexpected camaraderie, a trio of unlikely companions united under a common purpose. The small dogs, full of tenacity and spirit, were determined to lead the larger one, who seemed content to follow along as long as he was a part of the group. The dynamics between them were as colourful and intriguing as a patchwork quilt, each unique in their own way yet working together despite the snags they may encounter.

Since he had been behind the other two, Gwen hadn’t noticed the symbol covering his breastplate, yet when he shifted and the light reflected off the polished metal as he stepped into her view, eager to be a part of the conversation, her heart sunk. It felt like some cosmic joke, right as she was headed on the path to find the answers she’d sought her entire life, that familiar Griffon she’d spent the last eight years avoiding was now staring her in the face, cornering her in this tiny room.

Of course, it was just her luck that she’d be face to face with a Grey Warden, though she knew it was only a matter of time until she found one amidst the Blight, she’d hoped it would be after she’d come into contact with Darkspawn. She should have kept that hope secret, lest the Gods find it and tear it to shreds along with the rest of everything else she tried to grasp.

Gwen tore her panicked gaze from him, content to ignore him until he gave her a reason not to. Her hands itched for her daggers, but until he showed signs that he meant to harm her, she would not give him any reason to. She had no way of knowing how he’d react to her, but she would ensure she did not meet her end when she was so close to getting the answers she’d wanted her entire Maker-forsaken life.

“Thank you?” Gwen wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or if Darcy was actually upset that she had stolen this piece of glory from him.

Darcy’s smirk widened and she wasn’t sure she liked where this was heading, but was powerless to stop it lest she provoke his ire, “What brings you to Redcliffe…?” He trailed off, his heavy-lidded eyes - a hint of amusement hiding in the darkness - awaited her reply as he leaned forward, intent in his stance.

Gwen’s gaze drifted into a vacant stare as she processed the question, “Gwen.” She supplied when it clicked - embarrassingly late - what he was asking for. She glanced back to the Grey Warden but saw no recognition in his eyes, only a curious expression as he watched this conversation play out. Good, she had worked hard to keep her name out of blabbering mouths, it would do her no good to hide her face if everyone recognized her by name alone.

“Gwen,” Darcy said the name appraisingly and nodded his approval, “what brings you to Redcliffe? Haven’t you heard that the Archdemon’s army marches this way?””

Gwen hesitated, she couldn’t tell them the truth, at least not the whole truth, but she couldn’t come up with a good enough lie that would explain why she wasn’t running away, “Yes, I ‘d heard.”

“And you’re willingly travelling towards it?” The tall Grey Warden spoke for the first time since they’d cornered her in this room. His smooth voice carried a Ferelden accent, a lightness to it as if he was constantly on the verge of laughter. The way he spoke was playful yet confident, teasing but never cruel. Gwen’s eyes flicker to him and then back to where Darcy stands, a hand on his cocked hip and that smirk still resting on his perfectly arched lips.

Gwen shifted her gaze nervously, unable to maintain a steady level of eye contact. She didn't want the Grey Warden to feel intimidated by her intense gaze, so she forced herself to glance away. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of his full lips pulled downwards into a pout, a rather put-out look on his face.

“Yes.” She answered simply, “Where there is war there is work.”

Darcy laughed, melodic and loud as it echoed in the small space, “And it seems like our work just so happens to line up at the moment,” Darcy took a few steps forward and held out his hand. Gwen had to resist every instinct to put space between them, but if he noticed her freeze up, he did not let on. Underneath all that charm was a cunning mind and she was reticent to trust him based on his word alone. Yet, she couldn’t risk upsetting him either, “So what do you say, Gwen, how about we work together to kill some undead, and then if you are as good as Murdock claims, you can come with us to stop the Archdemon before it destroys Ferelden forever. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of work along the way.”

Gwen balked, “You’re going to stop the Archdemon?” She glanced over at the Grey Warden again, were there more of them waiting outside?

“That or die trying, and the odds of our bloody deaths increase every day!” He quipped, much too cheery for such a foreboding statement. “And we’d be all that much safer if we had a mysterious figure such as yourself to help scare off some of our enemies. I must say there is something about you that is deeply unsettling.” Darcy added, jiggling his hand to remind her he was still waiting before sincerity caused his tone to lower, “We could really use someone like you.”

Gwen’s heart twisted in her chest, uncomfortable feelings swirling through her stomach, like a swarm of angry bees. They wanted her, just like that? No need to prove herself, no demands to reveal her face… There had to be some trick there, no one wanted the off-putting stranger who refused to show her face around unless they were desperate. Though perhaps no other Wardens were waiting for them outside which would stand to reason that they could, in fact, be rather desperate for willing participants in their fight. And Darcy did make a fair point; she was trying to help Redcliffe and so were they. If she agreed to accompany them for this battle, she could determine their true intent and decide if it was worth joining them or shaking them at the first available opportunity. They had to sleep sometime and escaping into the night was a specialty of hers.

Gwen clasped her hand in his and gave him a firm shake, his grin growing and Gwen already regretted agreeing to this. She looked to the woman - Morrigan, Darcy had called her - who looked as though she’d eaten a batch of sour grapes. If Darcy could convince such a sullen woman to be a part of his group, she likely did not stand a chance, better to agree early and part ways when he wasn’t looking. The Grey Warden piece was a complication that lurked like a shadow in the darkness, a blade waiting to strike, but it wouldn’t be the first time she had lived on alert at all times. She could handle it for the time being, given that they all lived through the upcoming onslaught of undead creatures, of course.

“Your penchant for adopting strays shall spell our doom,” Morrigan muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Dramatic as ever, Morrigan,” The Grey Warden teased, and the death glare he earned had Gwen surprised he wasn’t reduced to cinder right then and there, “I, for one am happy to welcome you to our humble little party.” He beamed at her, his smile lopsided and boyish, and even though she was still wary of him, it warmed a small piece of her that he seemed to genuinely mean it. “I’m Alistair, by the way, since everyone else has already had the chance to introduce themselves.”

Alistair bounced with nervous energy about him when he spoke that had Gwen eyeing him warily like he was an over-excitable pup ready to jump on her and begin licking her face with abandon. Maker, she needed to stop thinking about him like a dog or she would never be able to resist anything he asked of her.

A loud bark reminded Gwen that they had a real dog among their group, strays indeed.

“Oh, and this is Barkspawn.” Alistair gestured to the Mabari, covered in war paint, who sat on his haunches, an air of pride swirling around him. Gwen coughed to cover a startled laugh, Barkspawn? Had they named their dog with a blight-based pun? Maybe she didn’t have to fear them as much as she had originally thought, but rather whatever chaotic situations they were no doubt to pull her into.

Morrigan made a disgusted sound, her painted lips twisted with a sneer. Gwen was sure she was going to be hearing that sound from her a lot in the upcoming time spent together. “Yes, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Morrigan’s tone dripped with sarcasm and haughty disdain, “But we must end this ceaseless prattle, lest we squander more time in our preparations than we already have. Our true objective is to defeat the Archdemon and we cannot do so when we are preoccupied with saving this town from suffering the consequences of their own mistakes.”

“For the hundredth time, oh witchy one,” Alistair’s dry tone lent his words a grating sort of touch, “We can’t just leave these people to die, and we need Arl Eamon’s help to-“

“If I wanted to listen to your whining, Alistair, I would have simply listened to the mutt’s whimpering, at least that is more pleasant to the ears.” Morrigan cut him off with biting words.

Darcy’s laugh stopped Alistair from releasing whatever scathing remark was poised at the tip of his tongue, “Welcome to the team, Gwen, you’re going to love it here.”

That remained to be seen, but at least if the witch could distract the Grey Warden’s disdain from her, maybe she could at least survive the night.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my fic <3

I will be posting minimum once a week, but my last fic I posted almost daily sooooo we will see!

No warnings for this chapter but all future warnings will be posted in the beginning notes.

I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments and they keep me writing faster :)

Art of Gwen for anyone interested :)

#alistair theirin #falling in love #angst with a happy ending #slow burn #hurt/comfort #fluff #alistair dao #alistair dragon age #humour #eventual smut #learning to love yourself #Alistair x original character #Alistair x original female character #childhood trauma

[tired-truffle]

The Art of Pointed Questions

A DamienxAmma Fic

Word Count: 2.6k

Part 1/1 - Complete

Based off the prompt from tumblr user @creativepromptsforwriting

P.S.: If you haven’t read this series but you like my other fics, i highly recommend reading Villains and Virtues by A.K. Caggiano, its literal gold 💯

Masterlist

“Have you ever had a friendship bracelet?”

The ridiculousness of that question echoed across the rocky walls surrounding their path as it wound through a small craig. It wasn’t the first absurd question that Amma had asked in their seemingly never-ending journey toward Faebarrow, but this one had to be one of the most egregious of them all. 

Had Damien Maleficus Bloodthrone, Son of Zagadoth the Tempestuous, Ninth Lord of the Infernal Darkness and Abyssal Tyrant of the Sanguine Throne, ever had a friendship bracelet? 

The better question would be if he’d had any friends at all, to which the answer would be a resounding no. He was evil, evil beings did not have such childish things as friends. 

Damien didn’t justify the question with an answer, instead, he let out an exasperated sigh and debated using the talisman’s power to get her to stop talking - It seemed he was debating this almost every minute he let her have free reign of her own speech. 

Kaz had scrambled off somewhere a half hour ago and had yet to come back, however Damien could sense his presence skulking behind them. He’d been keeping Amma busy chatting, though it had been more Amma chatting at him and Katz shooting back cruel names and annoyed looks. Even the imp couldn’t withstand this torture forever and had fled in a burst of rage. This had left Amma with a new target who was less eager than Kaz to leave Amma behind just to avoid her inane questions - he couldn’t leave the talisman unattended, could he? - hence his constant debate on ordering her to shut her mouth. He’d done worse to people for less heinous acts, surely this wasn’t unreasonable.

“I know you heard me, Damien, don’t pretend you’re too dark and broody for a friendship bracelet” Damien could hear the eye roll in her voice and he stifled back an irritated growl. “You were a kid at some point, right? Kids give each other friendship bracelets, half-demon or not. I bet you were just like all the other kids, playing with your toys and frolicking in the streets or whatever it is kids do in creepy villages.” Amma giggled, apparently, the image of a tiny Damien, pout on his face as he skipped around was too much for her to contain herself. 

“I am evil, Amma. Evil people do not frolic, no matter their age.” Damien shot her a withering look. But like a fool, he’d fallen for her bait, and he watched as a wide smirk pulled at her round cheeks. Not wanting to admit to having been beaten, he said “Sanguinisui, do not talk until we reach our camp tonight.” Amma’s mouth clicked shut as her teeth clacked together, she’d been about to gloat and Damien had managed to catch her before she could, thank the hells. 

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly irritated, making his smug grin grow wider. She gestured to the surrounding forest before putting her hands to her throat and making a strangled sound, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth comically. He supposed he couldn’t blame her after the last time they’d been attacked and she’d been unable to make a noise because of his orders. Somewhere behind them, Damien heard Kaz make a wretching sound. 

Damien rolled his eyes before adding, “Sanguinisui, you may only ignore that last order if you are in danger.”

Satisfied that she wasn’t at imminent risk, Damien turned away from her, clicking his heels against his ‘horse’ to spurn it on faster. The last thing he needed was to look back at where she sat dejected and fuming, he didn’t want to feel any sort of pity for her, like how he’d feel pity for a weak little kitten caught out in the rain. He had other more important things on his mind, like getting his father out of the crystal, his main objective. He didn’t have the time to spare her any pity.

The peace and quiet that had accompanied his order had been truly blissful for about thirty seconds before Kaz took it upon himself to sit behind Damien - now that Amma couldn’t speak to him - and glare at her, making rude gestures along with some snide remarks. Amma had then taken it upon herself to pull stones out of the bottom of her boots and chuck them as hard as she could at Kaz’s impudent face. Unfortunately for Damien, said face was right behind his back, and Amma’s aim was by no means her best ability, and she ended up mostly pelting Damien with the pebbles. When one had the audacity to bounce off his head, the scathing glare he shot her way had been enough to make her rethink her actions. Perhaps throwing stones at the man who was in charge of all your actions and would soon be killing you, wasn’t the wisest course of action, unless you were trying to speed up that death. 

By the time they made camp, Damien was in an even fouler mood than he had been after seeing Xavier, which was saying something since that lecherous blood mage never failed to make his blood boil. Damien spat out his usual commands to Amma, told Kaz to guard her, and trekked off into the woods to find them some dinner. Surely killing something would make him feel better.

Kaz took that as his opportunity to discipline Amma himself, “How dare you anger Master Bloodthrone, he does not have time for your petty grievances, you are his captive.” and for good measure “Whore.”

Damien didn’t bother listening to Amma’s indignant response, he’d heard enough of their banter to know what she’d say, and he was sure it would only serve to piss him off further. 

By the time he returned to camp an hour later, a small hare in hand and feeling much calmer after releasing his magic on some unsuspecting trees, he was feeling much more collected. 

Amma had her back to him, facing the small fire she’d built and was hopelessly trying to start by spinning a stick in between her hands on top of another slightly larger stick. 

“That won’t work,” Damien said in lieu of a greeting. 

Amma yelped in surprise and spun around, having been so focused on her task that she hadn’t heard the crunch of dead leaves under his heavy boots when he’d walked up behind her. 

Damien smirked, good, scaring unsuspecting innocent girls was something evil people did, evil like Damien. 

“You don’t have to startle me, you know, I was only trying to help.” Amma dropped her sticks, pink creeping up her neck in embarrassment. 

Damien shrugged and quickly lit the fire with his magic. 

“Showoff,” Amma muttered under her breath, crossing her arms across her chest. Kaz cracked an eye from where he was resting on a rock, satisfied that Amma looked dejected, he closed his eyes again. 

Amma turned away from the fire, picking at the long grass and small wildflowers that were bordering the little clearing they’d found. Damien quickly set to work preparing their dinner, and by the time it was cooked and devoured by all participants, it was time for bed. 

Damien gave Amma her nightly commands, - sit, stay, play nice - and settled down to sleep, turning away from where she sat, staring off into the dark woods, fiddling with grass in her hands. If she didn’t want to sleep, that was on her, but she better not be cranky tomorrow. He didn’t know how he would cope with more irritation after today, he had his limits, and Amma being here was already pushing it. She’d already steered his evil plan of course, he now had to go to Faebarrow to get the amulet out of her so he didn’t have to kill her. It was out of pity of course, like that cat stuck in the rain, he wasn’t evil enough to push it under a carriage wheel, even if it would end its suffering. 

And if his dreams were filled with horrible images of a lost blonde cat, shivering in the rain, no one had to know but him. 

***

When Damien woke up, the first thing he noticed was that Amma was not where he’d left her sulking by the fire. The second was that said sulker was no longer looking so miserable and had moved to hover over the small sleeping form of their resident imp. 

“Do I want to know what you’re doing?” Damien asked, rolling to his side and propping himself up on his elbow, swiping a hand down his face. It was much too early to be dealing with this, but the sooner he got whatever ridiculousness was going on out of the way, the better the rest of his day would be. 

Amma whirled around, eyes widened in surprise and hands clasped guiltily in front of her chest, pulling Damien’s eyes to the ample cleavage her shirt did very little to cover. He quickly looked back up to her face, pleased to see she showed no indication that she’d seen his brief lapse of control of his gaze. “Have you finally smothered him in his sleep like he deserves?” 

Amma squawked indignantly, “Of course not!” 

Damien shrugged, sitting up and stretching his arms out from the little aches and pains he’d gained from their sleep on the hard, unforgiving ground. 

“That’s too bad.”

“Damien!” Amma hissed, “Don’t be so mean to him, look how cute he is when he’s sleeping.” 

Cute wouldn’t be how Damien would describe Kaz, his protruding lower jaw wide open, drooling into the rock he’d made into a pillow, his spindly body spread out haphazardly. In a way, he looked almost dead, if it weren’t for the rise and fall of his chest. Damien could see how he could look peaceful, but cute felt like a bit of a stretch. Damien had prepared a retort when a small band of green and white caught his eye, pulling his gaze toward the imp’s wrist. He rubbed his eyes to ensure he was seeing correctly, and when he looked again he saw that the small band was still there. It was made of thick grass interwoven with small white flowers into a delicate braid pattern and tied in a neat bow. 

Damien looked between the bracelet and Amma, his eyebrow raised. 

“I think it suits him.” Amma said, crossing her arms across her chest defensively, “And I’m very good at making friendship bracelets.” 

Damien felt a headache coming on, he thought they’d left this conversation yesterday, “Imps don’t have friends.”

“They do now.”

Stubborn as ever, Amma refused to relent, and Damien no longer knew why he even bothered arguing about this. Kaz would wake up, tear off the offending item, and call her some rude names, to which she would insist he keep the bracelet and be unnecessarily kind to the hateful creature. 

And Damien had to pee, something he had no plans of putting off for a pointless argument. 

He stood up, brushing off his clothes as he popped the joints in his knees. As he looked down, feeling an unfamiliar object moving on his wrist with his movements, he felt anger build in his chest before he laid eyes on the object. He already knew what it was. 

“We aren’t friends either,” Damien growled, eyes flashing as he looked at where Amma stood, a sly smile on her face. It was unnerving that she’d been able to get the bracelet on his wrist whilst he slept without him noticing, and he would have to add a new line to her commands about not touching him when he was unconcious. However, this grass and flower bracelet was somehow entirely black, blending in with his black sleeves. 

“I even covered it in ashes so it would match your moody aesthetic.” Amma flicked her fingers at him and he felt an indignant jolt run through his chest. He wasn’t moody, though arguing that point would not help his case. Though he couldn’t help but feel that it was also strangely…. Thoughtful, that she would take into account his preference of colour, or lack thereof. 

He grunted, unable to come up with a proper retort so early in the morning he turned quickly on his heels to march towards the forest. 

“I’m not keeping it.” He called, not bothering to face her as he lifted his arm up and yanked the bracelet off so the bow came apart, ripping slightly as it did. 

“No!” Amma’s disappointment was clear in her tone and Damien ignored the tug in his gut from some stupid emotion he didn’t bother putting a name to - likely pity, that was about all his evil heart was capable of in this situation, or so he told himself - and he continued his journey to find some quiet and private place to pee. It shouldn’t have been as difficult a task as it had been.

“Fine, be a miserable loner then!” She yelled after him. 

“I’m evil, Amma, evil people don’t have friends, and they certainly don’t wear friendship bracelets.” Damien drawled, grinning to himself, “Right, Kaz?” He lifted his voice so the imp could hear him. If he hadn’t been evil he would have felt bad about sicking the imp on her, who at Damien’s call, realized what Amma had bestowed upon him, and was reacting just as he had expected. 

Damien chuckled, revenge felt good, these were the consequences of her actions. Including him throwing that damned bracelet away and never looking back. 

He twirled the bracelet between his fingers, the ash rubbing off as he did so. It was strange that she’d gone through so much effort to give him something she knew he wouldn’t like. The son of a Demon Lord wearing a friendship bracelet, how absolutely ludicrous. It would get him laughed out of Yvlcon, and he could only imagine what his father would say should he show up to free him from the crystal with an ash-covered, grass and flower braid around his wrist. 

He went to toss it into a bush, but at the last second, he hesitated. He couldn’t name what had stopped him, but the image of Amma, eyes wide and glistening with tears over all her hard work going to waste, of him rejecting the gift… it made him seethe quietly, but at the same time, he found himself unable to let go of the bracelet. 

Resisting the urge to stomp childishly, he shoved the bracelet into his pocket. With any luck he’d forget about it and it would become crumpled beyond repair, and at last, he could part with it, if it didn’t turn to dust first. 

It would serve as a reminder that he didn’t need such things, that they weren’t for people like him. Bad people don’t deserve nice things. But if he kept it in his pocket, if he ruined such a nice gift, then maybe he could keep it, if only as a show of how evil he truly was, to hurt someone who had only tried to be kind.

He didn't have friends, nor would he ever, no matter how hard Amma tried, he was sure that he would be a ‘miserable loner’ for the rest of his life. It was his fate, no friendship bracelets would ever change that. 

Damien shook himself, he should really be more concerned that that thought upset him, but as he listened to the sounds of Kaz and Amma bickering, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth light somewhere within the deep, dark recesses of his heart. 

That damn girl and her damn kindness, surely it would be the death of him. He wasn’t sure what was worse, that his tombstone may read ‘Damien Maleficus Bloodthorne, Killed by Kindness” or that he wasn’t sure he would mind it, as long as it was Amma, with her bright smile and even brighter laugh, who did it.

A/N: I adore this series and it needs so much more hype!! Its literally the funniest and the cutest and had me giggling and kicking my feet???? Irl??? Wild.

Brb gonna go consume everything this author has ever written ✌️

#villains and virtues #damienxamma #damien maleficus bloodthorne #baroness Ammalie Avington #enemies to lovers #literally the best book series ever #tumblr prompt #throne in the dark #Kaz #drabble #silly #beginning of feelings #falling in love #a k caggiano

[tired-truffle]

Your Honour, I love him ❤️

If you haven’t watched/read Welcome to Demon School Iruma-Kun I would HIGHLY recommend you do! Especially for this absolute sweetheart who I can’t get enough of 🥹

[tired-truffle]

Thank you for the recommendation @lovelysizzlingbluebird 🥰

Rivers and Roads

A Lokixfem!reader Fic

Word Count: 3.9k

Part 10/16

Masterlist

TW: Throwing up (not on purpose) (at the end if you want to avoid it)

Things with Loki had gotten progressively worse. So much for getting close to him so he’d tell you what he was hiding. After you’d asked him if he’d had anyone special waiting for him at home, he’d become withdrawn. At first, you were okay with it, from the way his eyes had shone with grief and mixed with the simmering anger of his clenched jaw, you could understand that whatever the situation was, it was complicated. You were prepared to give him time to sort through his feelings. However, as the days progressed and his sullen mood turned sour, you grew tired of waiting. 

You’d been making such good progress. You’d started feeling comfortable around him, and even considering telling him everything you’d seen in your visions. You were glad you hadn’t, based on how snippily and rather rudely he’d answered anything you asked him recently, you had a feeling he wouldn’t be kind about what you’d seen. If anything he’d try to gaslight you into thinking you’d made it up. You’d managed to fight the visions off the past few days by willing the stone to do whatever magic it was supposed to while gripping it like your life depended on it. Though the more you suppressed the visions, the harder they seemed to push back. It was like trying to suppress a cough, but the harder you tried, the more it resisted and sooner or later your cough would come back with a vengeance. 

Keep reading

[tired-truffle]

Did you write an alternate ending/universe for Muj Milaeck? If you did, may you please tell me where I can read it? I’ve been itching for it and I can’t find it anywhere, it’s the one where the Isekai reader is transported again but back in time (with magically hidden wounds) before Powder’s explosion, but Viktor does not know her yet and it’s angst-y because the reader loves him but he barely know who she is and what she meant to him in her universe, I’m apologize if this is bothersome

No bother at all!! I did write it but I didn’t like it so I took it down to rework it, I’m trying to get it done but its just not something I like enough to post yet. When I get back in my writing mode I’ll tag you when I post it :)

Thank you for reading and liking Muj Milacek enough to want more ❤️❤️

[tired-truffle]

From my complete fic: Müj Milacek, a Viktorxreader slowburn filled with hurt/comfort, humour as a coping tool, and angst (with a happy ending of course). I’ve used my OC for the drawing but feel free to picture the reader however you want!

Here is the link to the first chapter on tumblr (its also on wattpad and ao3):

[tired-truffle]

Thank you so much for the recommendation and kind description of my fic ❤️❤️

The BEST Loki/Tom Hiddleston Fics I’ve read: DECEMBER 2022

So, I know that there are still a few days left, but I will not be able to do this later this week so here is me prematurely celebrating these amazing fics and their authors!

SERIES (Two Parts or More)

A fic that completely blew my mind: Rivers and Roads by @tired-truffle

A fic I’m hopelessly addicted to: Double Cross by @gigglingtigger

A fic that’s so, so, SO filthy: The Offering (& subsequent parts) by @redfoxwritesstuff

A gloriously BEAUTIFUL and sooooper sexy dark fic: Monstrous by @maiden-of-asgard

A fic that’s a warm hug on a cold day: A Compromising Situation by @myoxisbroken

A fic that gave me SO. MANY. FEELS (I was legit curled up on the floor in fetal position, clutching the phone to my chest, silently screaming): Rapacity by @nildespirandum / misreall

A fic that had me lol-ing: Around the Realms in Eighty Days by @mistress-ofmagic

A fic that I binge-read like a glutton (This is a paid fic but it’s completely, totally, absolutely worth the ₹200 I spent on it. It’s also for a good cause so please buy if you can): The Reluctant Bride by @caffiend-queen

DELECTABLE ONE-SHOTS

An Untamed Hunger by @latent-thoughts

Full Throttle by @lokisgoodgirl

The Red Dress by @lokisgoodgirl

Ostara by @cake-writes

Stop and Smell the Flowers by @bellesque (Single-greatest piece of smut I’ve read on this site. I’m not even exaggerating)

Calling to Join Them the Wretched and Joyful by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Snowfall by @melodylnoelle

Secret Santa by @villainousshakespeare

Lammas by @cake-writes

What is Mine by @just-the-hiddles

Hold Me Now by @holymultiplefandomsbatman

The Loki Bug by @mistress-ofmagic

What’s The Occasion by @tripleyeeet

Please don’t assume all fics are complete. Please DO assume everything is 18+. And for heaven’s sake read the warnings.

#loki fic recs

#fic recs

#loki fanfic

#loki fanfiction

#tom hiddleston fanfiction

#loki smut

#loki x ofc

#tom Hiddleston x reader

#tom hiddleston x ofc

#loki x reader

#loki x reader #angst with a happy ending #reader insert #slow burn #marvel #protective loki #hurt loki #loki x you #loki fic recs

[tired-truffle]

Thank you @sarahscribbles for recommending my fic ❤️❤️ I appreciate your support so much 😊

These fics weren't necessarily posted in September but they're fics that I found this month and adored. This will be added to until the end of September!

Please REBLOG these stories if you read. Likes do nothing for the authors.

A Fairytale Beginning by @the-lady-amphitrite

I could write an entire essay on how much I adore his fic. Amphi is so gifted and so talented and has created such a beautiful world in this fic. Please do yourself a favour and read it.

Rivers and Roads by @tired-truffle

Still currently working my way through this one but damn if I am not HOOKED. The constant switching between past and present is written so wonderfully as well as Loki's soft side that I can't wait to keep making my way through it. This fic is a treat!

Yes, Sir by @stuckylaufeyson

Hot is the only word that I can think of for this. Soft!Dom Loki is my personal weakness and he's written so well here! This scratched so many itches and is one I will be revisiting again and again.

Indecency by @earlgreydream

Again, hot is the only thing I can say. This destroyed me in the best way. Loki is such an asshole but then so amazingly soft at the end that it made my heart all warm and fuzzy.

A Queen's Throne by @ragnarachael

It's been almost a month since I reread this but I still think about it at least five times a day. I didn't know what I was missing in my Loki kink collection until I found this fic. A 10/10 from Rachael!

The Helipad by @ficitve-sl0th

Avengers Loki screams Dom and boy does this fic scratch that itch. Loki taking you on top of Stark Tower for all New York to see? Sign me up! This one is for the hoes.

[tired-truffle]

Rivers and Roads

A Lokixfem!reader Fic

Word Count: 1k

Epilogue

Tagged readers: @scarlet2007 @lovelysizzlingbluebird

Masterlist

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” You from your memory said, smiling softly at Loki. You were on the roof of the Avengers complex, the sun setting as you dangled your legs over the roof's edge. You’d come up here to get away from Stark’s palpable judgment and Loki had found you soon after.

“Why do I have a feeling you are keeping something from me? You can’t keep secrets from the God of Lies, Princess.” Loki pressed, his intense gaze searing into your soul like he was looking right through you, past the walls you kept up, and to the truth that lay at the center of your chest. Your stomach fluttered, you were keeping secrets, but you weren’t about to admit it. 

“I would tell you if it were dangerous, I wouldn’t risk you getting hurt.” It wasn’t fully a lie, and you’d said many other half-truths to keep him as unsuspecting as possible. It wasn’t dangerous for him. You would be the one who wouldn’t be coming back, you would be the one whose body would be left bleeding alone on Voromir. 

You looked away as subtly as possible, pretending to watch the sunset, but you weren’t really seeing it. All you could think about was that this would be your last sunset, your last chance to say the words that you just couldn’t summon the bravery to unleash.

“You can tell me, you know,” Loki said, a softness to his tone that you rarely heard but always cherished, “I wouldn’t sabotage the mission, I just want…” 

You brought your gaze back to him as he trailed off, pursing his lips. Your heart cracked as you realized what he was thinking; that after all these years you still didn’t trust him. You gently placed your hand over his where it rested against the ledge you both sat on, “I trust you, Loki. I would trust you with my life if it came down to that.” His eyes widened and you wished you told him this years ago. You’d thought it had been obvious, but perhaps you’d misjudged just how deep-rooted his self-doubt was, “Do you trust me?”

Loki nodded, “Yes.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll go to Voromir tomorrow morning and we’ll get the Soul Stone.” You removed your hand from on top of his.

“Together,” Loki added and your heartbeat quickened. 

“I pinky promise.” You held out your pinky finger and upon Loki’s bewildered look you laughed, “Are you telling me you’ve never done a pinky promise?” 

“It sounds much too juvenile for a God,” Loki frowned in disgust. 

You grinned, “For a boring God, maybe. Just do the pinky promise, Loki.” 

Loki gave you a look that said he’d rather die than lower himself to such mortal standards. You rolled your eyes and snatched his pinky in yours before he could stop you. You were sure if he had actually wanted to he could have pulled his hand away before you could grab it and you almost missed the subtle upturn of the corner of his mouth as he suppressed a smile. 

“There,” You said triumphantly, “It’s complete. No takesies-backsies.”

“What is it you always say? ‘You’re the worst’?” Loki teased and you laughed, nudging his arm with your elbow. You wanted to stay in that moment forever, you didn’t want the sun to set, you didn’t want to have the talk with Stark that night that you were dreading, and you didn’t want to leave Loki alone on Voromir. Yet all those things would happen, and against all odds, you’d come back sixty-three years later and get launched into yet another whirlwind of emotions and danger. Yet looking back, you weren’t sure if you’d change any of it. You got to be with Loki, centuries ahead of you both. And while you still hadn’t managed to figure out how to stop your souls from returning to the Soul Stone upon your deaths, you had plenty of time to enjoy the present. Just the two of you in your small home on a new, and much safer, planet in New New Asgard. You had missed Earth at first, but you found that most of that was due to missing the people you’d once known but could no longer remember, a shadow of their love hanging over you that you would never get past, but were starting to accept. You still had people in your life that cared for you and a community in which you thrived.

You’d had a few months to settle in, most of your memories had returned, and your relationship with Loki had blossomed into something beautiful. Though some things would always stay the same. 

“Loki,” You rolled your eyes, “I swear if you don’t give that back I’ll make you regret it.”

Your arms were crossed over your chest, your foot tapping the ground impatiently. 

Loki’s eyes sparked and you regretted your words, “I don’t know what you mean, Princess, but I am eager to hear your punishment.”

Your cheeks flushed at the wolfish grin plastered on his face as he lay naked and sprawled on the bed, your shirt in his hand. You really did need to go wash up and start your day, you were starting to get pretty hungry, but you couldn’t help the heat that started to blossom in your core. 

Loki knew it too, his grin only got wider. 

You didn’t have anywhere specific you needed to be, even if you were hungry. The Asgardians would be fine without you, and after all the two of you had been through, did you not deserve to indulge a little? 

“Don’t think I won’t make you give me my shirt back.” You puffed out your chest, your hands resting defiantly on your hips. 

“I’d like to see you try, Princess.” Loki purred, his eyes gleaming. 

You would try to get the shirt, but as soon as Loki held you in his arms and pressed a fervent kiss to your parted lips, you’d give up the fight. You could get your shirt back later, along with the rest of your clothes once they’d been torn off.

You were going to let yourself enjoy this. After all, you now had centuries to look forward to, what was a morning spent in the arms of the man you loved going to change?

You had time, and you planned on using it in the only way you wanted; loving Loki with every fiber of your being.

A/N: A short little epilogue!

And it's over! Thank you to everyone for your lovely comments and likes!! I hope you enjoyed this fic and I will be posting a one-shot of Loki waking up after Voromir in the next few weeks :)

#loki needs a hug #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader #protective loki #angst with a happy ending #reader insert #slow burn #fluff #marvel mcu #hurt/comfort #hurt loki #eventual smut

[tired-truffle]

The Epilogue to Rivers and Roads will be out tomorrow!

Sorry for the delay, things have been a little crazy but I’ll get it out soon!!

[tired-truffle]

Rivers and Roads

A Lokixfem!reader Fic

Word Count: 4.4k

Part 16/16 (Epilogue to be posted soon)

Tagged readers (let me know if you want to be tagged in the last update!): @scarlet2007 @lovelysizzlingbluebird

Masterlist

You’d finally figured out what had happened to you that caused you to be brought sixty years in the future, you still had many questions, but for now, you were content to leave them be. You’d ask them when the time was right, but as you snuggled against Loki, warm and content in his arms, you knew that time wasn’t now. 

You absently traced shapes across his chest, your head resting on his shoulder. You would have stayed that way forever if you could have. You’d already been like this for all of yesterday and last night, why not stay a little longer? Still, there was this antsiness building inside you, something just didn’t quite feel right. You wondered if you should start asking all your questions, maybe that would quell the uneasy feeling.

“What do we do now?” You asked, looking up to where he rested his head on the pillow.

He smirked, opening his eyes and turning his head so that your faces were only inches away, and all but purred, “We make up for lost time, Princess.” 

You felt yourself heat up, your blush spreading and you smiled shyly, “We’ve already done that a fair few times, I don’t have a God’s stamina, I need to rest.”

He caught your lips in a tender kiss that had your heart beating wildly in your chest. He pulled away, his thumb running softly across your cheek, “We have sixty years to make up for, but we can take it at whatever pace you want, love.”

You smiled, “Breakfast first?” 

“Fueling up is a great idea,” He said with a wolfish grin. You smacked him playfully on the chest and giggled despite yourself. 

You both reluctantly got out of bed, throwing your clothes back on - hopefully, to be torn off again later - and you went to clean up while Loki offered to make the meal. He had to be careful to keep the fire low and cook as quickly as possible, you weren’t sure how long you would have to do this for until the threat had passed, but you were glad that you were still able to cook food. You didn’t like the idea of eating uncooked grains that would surely stick in your teeth, and you couldn’t eat uncooked meat without risking all sorts of nasty diseases. 

You splashed some water on your face and looked at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. You were still the same person you’d always been, but you felt like something was different. There was this glow to your skin that you couldn’t explain, along with several mouth-shaped bruises. Was it an after-sex glow? Had you had sex before? You couldn’t remember. Even if you had, you couldn’t imagine it comparing to what you’d shared with Loki. There had been such a build-up of unresolved feelings and years of longing that mixed together to create something fierce and desperate but full of love and passion that had burst forth, no longer able to be contained. It had been everything you’d wanted and more.

You smiled as you remembered the words you’d shared; I love you. You had dreamt of hearing those words from him for so long you hadn’t thought it would really happen. But it had, and instead of leaving a letter, you were able to fully express to him exactly how you felt, with your words and with your body. When you didn’t have your memories you’d trusted him even when you hadn’t wanted to. Some hidden part of you had always known, you’d just been too scared to admit it to yourself. 

You wiped yourself down with some warm water on a cloth. It had been too cold to bathe properly and even then you always shivered under your blanket as the wet cloth hit your skin. 

You paused, you weren’t wearing a blanket, nor was the cloth cold. There was no way the oven had heated the bunker that quickly. You’d been surprised last night when the blanket had fallen away and you weren’t cold, but you’d been so caught up in the moment that you hadn’t given it much thought. Now that you stood half naked in the bathroom, your skin still wet from your makeshift wash, you knew that something had changed, more so than an after-sex glow. 

You threw your shirt back on and bolted into the living space where Loki was portioning out the usual breakfast of oats and berries. You strode up beside him, your eyes darting across his face. 

“I’m not cold,” You said like it was the craziest thing you’d ever heard. 

Loki’s brow furrowed, “It isn’t any warmer.” 

“I know.”

“How did this happen?” 

“I was hoping you could tell me, you’re the magic man.”

Loki frowned and muttered, “Magic man?”

You groaned, “Not important. How am I not cold if it's not warmer in here?”

Loki put down the pot and grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head left and right as he examined you, “I don’t have an explanation, you appear fine,” His mouth curved into a grin, “And I do appreciate these marks.” His fingers trailed down your neck and past the bruises he’d left causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You blushed, you liked them too, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. He did not need that kind of ego boost. Besides, you had more important things to focus on.

“Stop getting distracted,” You slapped his hand away, “We need to figure out what’s happening, what if something is wrong with me?”

He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face and cupped your cheeks in his hands, “Nothing is wrong, Princess,” He kissed the tip of your nose, “If anything your resistance to the cold is good, you no longer need to hide and shiver under that blanket.”

“You don’t know that,” You insisted, panic creeping up your throat, “What if something bad has happened and whatever deal you made isn’t working and I have to leave you again.” 

Loki’s eyes darkened, “No one is taking you from me again, Princess. That is a promise.” 

You pursed your lips and nodded, you needed to trust him on this. He was the magic expert, if he didn’t think anything was wrong then you had to believe it too. And if worst came to worst and you were right, if your uneasy feeling was linked to this, then you would have to trust that he would figure it out too. 

He pulled you into a tight hug, soothingly stroking your hair, “We will figure it out, but in the meantime, we should eat before the food gets cold.” 

You pulled back, wiping at your eyes as you held back tears. You’d had enough crying to last you a lifetime, you really wanted to stop, it was just so hard when you were constantly barraged by new and unexplainable things. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but what better way to distract yourself than with the comfort of food? 

You never got a chance to respond, a bone-rattling roar rattled the walls around you and shook you to the core. It was the closest you’d ever heard it to the bunker, and when the ground started to shake, the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer and closer, you looked at Loki with unbridled fear in your eyes. 

“Run,” Was all he said, panic crossing his features, before hauling you with him and wrenching open the front door. 

You thanked your lucky stars that you’d put on your usual many layers of socks, sure you seemed to be resistant to the cold now, but there was only so much you could handle, and the freezing ground would have ripped off the skin of your feet. 

Loki held your hand tightly in his, so different from the way he’d grabbed your arm before Ragnarok, and took off at a sprint. You had yet to see the beast, but from the way the trees rustled and swayed, and the ground shook like an earthquake beneath you, it couldn’t be that far away. 

“I think it caught on to your trick, Loki.” You hissed, careful not to be too loud, but still having to speak over the grating noises of trees bending and snapping to accommodate the gargantuan creature. 

“You don’t say!” Loki shot back sarcastically as you booked it into the forest, clambering over large roots and pushing through tall, orange grass. You hoped that the trees would help hide you, but you had no idea what the beast was capable of, and if it even relied that heavily on sight. 

You heard the horrific crunch of metal as the beast let out a wail so loud and so terrible that for a moment you couldn’t hear anything at all. You didn’t bother to stop to check your ears for bleeding, you didn’t want to interrupt your momentum, but your steps faltered as you realized exactly what metal structure the beast had stepped on. 

The bunker had been destroyed, your safe place on this hostile planet was gone, the bed you’d shared with Loki, the books you’d gotten attached to, all of it was now a pile of rubble beneath an alien’s foot. You didn’t have time to mourn, you had to stay focused on running and getting as far away from that thing as you could.

“Come on,” Loki urged as your hearing returned. 

“Can we even outrun this thing?” You glanced behind you as you felt its footsteps getting closer, though you still couldn’t see it through the trees. How huge was this creature? 

Loki didn’t respond, but from the worry evident on his face, you could tell he wasn’t sure that would be a possibility. 

You tripped over a root, your shirt catching and ripping up the sleeve on a stray branch. Loki caught you before you hit the ground, and barely gave you any time to recover before he was dragging you off again, your sleeve flapping in the wind. When you’d said you wanted your clothes torn off later, this hadn’t been what you had in mind.

You didn’t have any other options so you kept running, your adrenaline pumping in your veins and your breath coming in fast bursts. You ran as fast as possible, farther than you had when you’d come out to save Loki, but you were running out of steam.

“Loki,” You panted, “I can’t keep this up, you go on without me, I’ll hide, maybe it won’t see me.”

Loki’s eyes flashed, and he tugged your hand, “I’m not leaving you.” 

“Please, I can’t have you getting hurt just because I’m not a good enough runner.” You begged. 

If he left you were sure that beast would get you, but at least he’d have a chance to escape without your weak mortal body slowing him down. You’d promised not to leave him and you intended to keep that promise, but that didn’t stop him from leaving you.

“If you die, I die,” Loki growled, tightening his grip on your hand. You should have known that he wouldn’t do that, not after everything he’d gone through to get you back, not after the way he had worshipped your body just the day before. He loved you, he wasn’t going to leave you behind. Loki didn’t give you any time to protest as he scooped you into his arms bridal style as a sparkle of green energy surrounded his legs.

You yelped in surprise but clamped your hand over your mouth before you could make too much noise. It was too late, based on the creature’s roar, your ears still ringing from the last one, and the stomp of its feet speeding up behind you, it had heard you. 

Loki was sprinting faster than you’d thought possible, but it appeared what little magic he had he’d been able to use to amplify his speed. 

“Loki, now isn’t the time for dramatic statements -” You started but Loki cut you off.

“I mean that literally, Princess. Besides the fact that I would never allow you to be hurt or left behind, part of the deal was that our souls would be tied together, so that if one of us dies, so does the other, and trust me when I say I have no intentions of letting some mindless beast be the death of me.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to process what he’d said, panicked irritation creeping into your voice, “And you’re just telling me now?” 

“There wasn’t exactly a good time, darling.” Loki huffed as he ran, “Now that we’re sharing, I should also mention that since we now share a life force, you get half my years, and I keep the others, and when we die our souls will return to the soul realm together.”

If you hadn’t been in a life or death situation, a beast of unknown strength continuing to gain on you, you would have cried. He’d given up centuries of life just so he could get you back. You wanted to kiss him and smack him for shortening his life for yours. 

As if sensing your thoughts he shot you a tender glance as he navigated the thick roots and brush, “I’d rather spend half my life with you than the entirety of it alone.” 

You also had no intentions of returning to the soul realm, but if you didn’t have any other options, you took some solace in that you wouldn’t be alone. You didn’t want Loki to have to experience that never-ending darkness, but perhaps with the centuries you now had left, you would be able to figure out some way to stop it.

Now you really wanted to cry. You weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve this, but you were grateful nonetheless to have someone who loved you more than you ever thought anyone could. 

It was then that you looked over Loki’s shoulder and your heart stopped in your chest, any thoughts pertaining to Loki’s deal vanishing as you watched the beast break through the trees, its beady black eyes glinting as it caught sight of its prey; you. 

It was massive, the size of a high-rise building, its thick body covered in the same white and brown feathers you’d seen on its tail. It ran on two powerful legs, its feet more like those of a chicken if it had knives strapped to each claw. Its enormous mouth was filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth and its nostrils flared as it locked onto your scent. In opposition to its horrifying predator body were two tiny arms that protruded from its chest that if you’d seen this creature in a place where it couldn’t hurt you you would have thought they looked funny. But nothing was funny about this thing, especially not as it clicked in your brain what this beast reminded you of. 

“It’s a T-Rex.” You mumbled in terrified awe. It was bigger than the ones on Earth had been, but it was the same body as all the ones you’d seen in movies, just this time it was covered in feathers and very very real.

What were you supposed to do against the Earth’s most famous pre-historic predator? 

You needed to put space between it and you, but from the way Loki had started to pant and his arms shook beneath you, you knew you were running out of time. You wished he had his full range of magical abilities, you were sure you’d read somewhere that they included teleportation which would be the ideal skill to get away from this thing. You had no hope of defeating it, but if you could shake it off your trail, maybe you would both have enough time to come up with something.

If your souls were linked, maybe you could break whatever spell had been put on Loki to suppress his magic and he’d be able to get you both out of there. His magic was part of him, you’d wager it was part of his very being, and if you were linked to him as profoundly as he claimed, maybe you could leverage that. You squeezed your eyes closed, you had no idea what you planned on doing, but you wanted as few distractions as possible. 

You took a deep breath, focusing on the feeling you had whenever Loki laughed, when he’d lean in to press a kiss to your forehead, or when he’d tease you with that stupid grin plastered on his face. You wanted to free him, you wanted to get the both of you to safety, you wanted the time with him that you were both owed. You didn’t sacrifice yourself for the Soul Stone only to get eaten by an alien T-Rex. Fuck that, you were going to do everything in your power to prevent that. You had done so much, even when people you’d idolized doubted you, doubted your intentions, you’d done everything you could to save them, you’d sacrificed your own life so that they could live, and you’d left the man you loved behind to do so. You deserved to live, mistakes or not. You deserved a life with Loki just as he deserved a life with you.

It was with that realization, the guilt sliding off of you like oil on water, that you finally felt a weight removed from your shoulders. You were worthy of living, and you were worthy of Loki’s love. You were going to keep both. 

You felt a surge of power replace the spot where your guilt had resided, power like you’d never felt before. There was a light shining from behind your closed eyes and when you opened them you were shocked to find that that glow you’d written off as an after-sex glow had amplified until you looked like a green human glow stick. You’d have thought that you’d be scared, you’d never experienced anything like this before, but there was a familiarity to the power that coursed through your veins. A feeling like home and pine-scented soap. 

Loki faltered, surprise written across his face, “Princess?” 

You smiled brightly at him, “Let’s get out of here.” 

One moment you’d been running through the woods, a T-Rex on your tail, and the next Loki stumbled and fell as a flash of light blinded you and brought you both far away, landing softly on a pile of orange grass. 

Thankfully, Loki had twisted when you’d teleported so that he’d landed on his back and you landed on his chest. He let out a pained breath as you knocked the wind out of him and you rolled off of Loki until you lay on your back beside him, panting as you regained your strength. The glow had faded, but a part of that power remained tucked away, nestled someplace deep inside you that if needed you could access once more. But for now, that well had drained and brought you as far away from the beast as possible. 

Somewhere mercifully far in the distance, you heard a faint roar of frustration as the beast lost its prey. 

“Sucker,” You snickered breathlessly. 

“How did you access my magic when even I cannot?” Loki asked, sitting up and looking down at you with a look of incredulous awe on his face, he’d recovered much quicker than you. It seemed that all though you now had an extended lifespan you did not share his godly strength and recovery. 

You smiled and shrugged, “No idea, but you’re welcome we aren’t dinosaur food.” 

Loki closed the distance between you, his mouth urgent and seeking against yours. You snaked your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. You lost yourself in the moment, after what you’d just been through, you both needed this reassurance. You’d miraculously survived and used magic after you’d been sure you were as good as dead, and you needed his warmth, the feel of his smooth skin against yours to know that you’d both made it. You’d wondered back at the beginning of this whole journey if Loki would have been able to teach you magic, though you’d never gotten around to asking. You guessed that in a way, he had.

Loki broke the kiss, much to your dismay. You went to voice as much when you noticed how his brows scrunched, looking around at your surroundings. 

“What is it?” You asked, suddenly alert and ready to run again if need be, even if your legs felt like Jell-O.

“You brought us far, Princess, I think you managed to get us past the boundary.”

You frowned, “Boundary?” 

“To keep me caged in, I wasn’t allowed full run of the planet.”

“What happens if you break the boundary?” You asked as Loki helped you sit up, pulling you into his arms and gripping you tight. 

“A family gathering,” Loki said, annoyance coating his voice. You didn’t have time to question what that meant as at that moment, right beside you, a massive wall of bright rainbow colour hit the ground with a boom, wind rushing through your hair. You buried your face in Loki’s chest, you didn’t need any more surprises today, but the universe seemed rather content to throw them your way anyways. 

The light and air show was over as quickly as it had started, a metallic thump accompanying the sound of boots crunching over the brittle grass. 

“Looks like I’m interrupting something,” A deep voice said in irritation, your heart skipping a beat as you recognized it. You couldn’t forget that jovial baritone voice even if you wanted to; it was Thor. 

“Brother,” Loki greeted as you looked up. 

Thor had changed since your last memory of him. He’d gotten back into his usual shape, his hair remaining long with braids pulling the front back and out of his mismatched eyes which were fixed on Loki with an unimpressed glare. He wore new armour that added blue to his colour scheme and he didn’t look any older physically, but you could see it in the firm set of his mouth and the hollowness to his eyes that a lot had happened to him in your absence. Fate had not been overly kind to either of the Odinson brothers. 

After a beat, Thor broke his gaze from Loki and looked down at you, having only just noticed another person in his presence. As he looked at you, you saw recognition form in his eyes, his jaw dropped and Storm Breaker clanged to the ground beside him. His eyes roved over your features as disbelief settled in.

“Princess?” Thor asked incredulously, before turning back to his brother, “What kind of trick is this, Loki?” 

“It’s not a trick,” You cut in standing up as Loki stood with you, careful to keep himself between you and Thor. You stepped around him with an eye roll, he didn’t need to protect you from Thor, “It’s really me, I promise.” 

Thor cautiously reached out until he tapped you on the nose before pulling back as though he’d been burnt. You raised your eyebrows, about to speak when Thor cut you off with a deep belly laugh before pulling you tightly in for the biggest bear hug you’d ever received. The breath was squeezed out of you as he crushed you in his large, beefy arms. 

A roar came from the distance, thankfully cutting his hug short as Thor let you go and looked towards the source of the noise. You stumbled backward and coughed, Loki patted your back and shot you a sympathetic look. Maybe you should have let him protect you from his brother.

“This is amazing! You must tell me how this happened, the Soul Stone isn’t known for its generosity,” Thor said, looking back at you and Loki, a goofy smile plastered on his face. 

When another roar sounded off in the distance, though slightly closer this time, Loki spoke up, “We would be more than happy to tell you, brother, but that creature has destroyed the bunker and we need to get out of here before it catches up again, and I fear that it moves quicker than you’d expect for something so large and cumbersome.” 

Thor looked thoughtful, “You haven’t finished your exile, Loki, I’m not sure it’s wise to let you leave, though if you wish I will bring Princess to safety.” 

It was strange to hear your name said like that and strange to think that it was your name, but you moved past that, you weren’t about to be separated from Loki again, “I’ll be responsible for him like I was on Earth, we are tied together now, and until we can negotiate his imprisonment I will make sure he stays in line. It worked for five years on Earth, it can work again.” 

For emphasis, you pinched Loki’s arm lightly. 

“Hey!” He protested, rubbing the spot. You smiled up at him with your hands clasped behind your back, the picture of innocence.

“It’s good to have you back,” Thor chuckled with a twinkle in his eye, “And as much as I love a good battle, I am unwilling to kill such a magnificent beast if it is not necessary. We will do as you suggest, but Loki,” Thor fixed him with a serious look, “Any funny business, and I will make sure you are back here faster than you can blink, and your sentence will be doubled.” 

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Loki said, though, from his smile, you weren’t sure you believed him. 

You weren’t sure that you’d describe it as magnificent but you didn’t argue. As Thor picked Storm Breaker back up and stood in front of you and Loki, you smiled up at the God Of Mischief, twinning your fingers through his. So much had happened in the last day that you were having a hard time wrapping your head around it all. You’d received so much information and you had had barely any time to process it. 

Yet you couldn’t help but be happy. You had Loki, you were alive, and you were getting off this horrible planet. You had centuries ahead of you, something you would have to get used to, but with Loki by your side, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to handle. 

“Let’s go, Princess.”

“As long as it’s with you, My Prince.”

A/N: AAAHHH I can't believe this fic is almost over 😭 But thank you to everyone for your comments and likes!! I hope you liked this last big chapter, the epilogue will be posted likely on Monday next week! I'd love to hear what your favourite parts of the fic was or any remaining questions you have ❤️

Epilogue

#loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader #protective loki #loki needs a hug #loki laufeyson #fem reader #reader insert #no use of y/n #smut #eventual smut #angst with a happy ending #slow burn #fluff #hurt/comfort #falling in love #visions #marvel mcu

[tired-truffle]

Rivers and Roads

A Lokixfem!reader fic

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 15/16

Tagged readers (let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates!): @scarlet2007 @lovelysizzlingbluebird

A/N: Smut in this chapter, feel free to read up to it if you don't want to read it, and it lasts until the end of the chapter so you don't have to scroll down and figure out when it stops! It's also my first time publishing smut so I hope it's not bad!!

Masterlist

You came back to the present with a shaky breath, the remnants of your terror and grief threatening to engulf you. You squeezed your eyes closed and gripped Loki’s shirt with trembling hands. 

Out of all the things you would have guessed, dying so that trillions could live was not at the top of your list. You’d felt so guilty over your mistake, but it was more than that. You’d also seen the way that Romanoff’s family had missed her, all the good she could have done if she could only have lived. You couldn’t let that happen again. You weren’t a fighter, they didn’t need you. You were expendable enough that they wouldn’t miss you. 

Or at least Stark and his friends wouldn’t. Loki on the other hand… The way he’d looked at you like you’d ripped out his still beating heart and crushed it in your hands was enough to have tears spring to your eyes and your throat feel raw as if you’d just screamed for hours on end.

“Princess,” Loki’s voice was full of concern, “Are you alright?” 

You opened your eyes to meet his gaze. Your lips trembled as you looked at the man you had left behind sixty years ago. He’d been alone for so long and after that vision, you had a good idea why. He hadn’t listened to your letter. 

“Loki, I’m so sorry,” You choked on a shuddering sob and covered your mouth and nose with your hands, “I'm so sorry.”

You felt like you were drowning, like there was an endless chasm that had opened up under you and pulled you down, down into a deep well that filled your mouth with the burning taste of loss. And you’d lost so much.

Loki pulled back and examined your tear-stricken face. His eyes flashed as he realized what you’d seen, “You know now.”

You dropped your hands into your lap. You knew now what you’d been begging him to tell you. You knew what you’d done to hurt him. You had had to do it, it was your choice and even as you sat on Loki’s lap, his anger palpable and his grief breaking through the mask, you wouldn’t change what you had done. 

“You still don’t regret it, do you?” Loki’s gaze hardened, his mouth set in a firm line.

“Loki, can you honestly tell me what my life was worth against the lives of so many? People that I failed to save the first time around.”

“You were mine,” Loki said darkly, a shiver running down your spine, “You don’t steal from me, Princess.”

Your tears ran hot down your cheeks and you didn’t try to wipe them away, there was no point, they’d only be replaced by more, “I came back.”

“You left,” Loki said darkly, his arms falling away from you. He was pulling away before you could hurt him again and you couldn’t let that happen. You had to break through his walls before he put them up to thick for you to do anything but beg him to let you in. 

“Loki,” You reached out to cup his cheek but he jerked away and you lowered your hand, “I didn’t want to leave you, that was the worst and hardest thing I have ever had to do. But I had to fix what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Loki spat, “Thanos was the one who snapped, Thor should have known to aim for his head, he is the warrior, not you. He should have known to go for the killing blow.” 

You flinched and looked away as you put the pieces together with the vision you’d had of talking to Thor. You’d forgotten to tell Thor to aim for the head, and history had repeated itself. Though it wasn’t your history, it wasn’t your world. You’d had access to the future of Loki’s universe from yours, but when you tried to picture how it was all fuzzy, like watching it on a screen. Or maybe you had watched it on a screen, somehow. If that even made sense. 

“You still blame yourself, even after you died to save them all, don’t you?” Loki asked, already knowing the answer. 

You looked away, tears falling softly onto the blanket. You couldn’t bring yourself to confirm it. 

“Get off me, mortal, you’ve learned nothing and I have no need of you bawling on me like a lost kitten.” Loki grasped your hips tightly to remove you from your lap but you stopped him when you planted your hands firmly against his chest and tightened your thighs around his. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

You looked up at him, though the tears still rolled down your face, you fixed him with your most determined glare, “I am not going anywhere until you stop shutting me out. This won’t hurt you any less. I’ve seen the way you looked at me the past few days when you thought I wasn’t watching. You will always care for me, even though you hate it, even though you try so hard not to.”

Loki growled, his hands tightening on your hips as he deftly rolled you over so you lay on your back underneath him. He’d all but pinned you to the bed, your arms splayed out to the sides in surprise as he leaned closer, a dark look on his face.

“I don’t care for you. You’re nothing but a mortal, your life will be over in an instant compared to mine, why would I tie myself to someone so fragile?” Loki asked, though you felt like that question was as much for you as it was for me.

“I can’t answer that for you.” You said, “But you did keep those pictures for decades after I was gone.”

“Nothing more than a keepsake from my time when I was free,” Loki’s words fell flat, his face dangerously close to yours. 

“I know you’re lying, Loki. Do you want to know how I know that?” Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, but it had the effect you’d wanted. 

Loki stiffened over you, and you didn’t give him any time to argue before you continued. 

“I know you’re lying because if you didn’t care for me - If you didn’t love me, the stone never would have accepted the sacrifice. You had to lose that which you love, and you lost me.” You choked on your words as Loki’s face fell, his walls crumbling as you broke them down.

“Did you read my letter?” You asked. 

Loki pursed his lips and nodded, closing his eyes, “I considered burning it instead, but I couldn’t do it.” 

“Then you know that I feel the same way about you.” 

Loki’s eyes snapped open, meeting yours with an intense gaze that had your heart quickening, “If you truly felt that way you wouldn’t have left me to return back to our time without you. Do you know what it was like to look at the faces of your precious Avengers knowing I’d been unable to save you? They blamed me, but they were the ones who allowed you to go.”

“And so you took it out on them, just like how I told you not to in my letter. They sent you here to keep you from hurting anyone else.”

He averted his gaze and you reached up, grabbing his chin in your fingers and turning his face back towards you. You smiled softly, “If anything that just proves my point more.”

“Maybe it does, Princess.” Loki conceded. 

You let your fingers trail along his jaw, his skin smooth underneath your touch. You saw tears spring to his eyes as he fought to hold them back. He turned into your touch, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm that stole your breath. The sheer tenderness, the vulnerability, stole your breath away. 

“I fought the whole time I was in the soul realm to get back to you,” You said, your voice shaky, “You were the reason I held onto myself, I had to get back to you, I didn’t want to leave you.” Your voice broke and you let out a stifled sob.

Loki chuckled and held your cheek in his hand, “I know, Princess, I was told as much when it returned you to me. You’d disrupted its routine so much it no longer wanted your soul.” 

“It had me for long enough.” You leaned into his touch, your hand leaving his face to hold onto the arm that was propping him up.

“Sixty-three years too long.” Loki leaned his forehead against yours, “And I missed you every moment, Princess.” 

“Loki,” You closed your eyes, if you looked at him you would lose your courage, “I never got the chance to say how I feel. I wrote it, I said it before I died, but never when you could hear me. And I don’t want you thinking it’s because I didn’t want to or I didn’t mean it, it’s because I didn’t think I deserved you.” 

“Princess-“ Loki started before you cut him off.

“Please, just let me say it, I need to say it before I can’t again.” You took a deep breath. “Loki, I love you. And I don’t expect anything to come out of it, but I need you to know that there is no one else for me. I loved you from before we first met and every moment after. Even when I didn’t remember you I still loved you, that piece of you never left my heart, and I was too confused to understand but now I know. Not even the soul stone could take that from me. It could take everything else but it couldn’t take you.” 

There was a beat of silence and you opened your eyes, holding your breath. The way Loki looked at you made your heart feel like it was on fire and your stomach did a somersault. There was so much to his expression that conveyed his grief and devastation over losing you, but the hope and love that remained as he took in what you’d told him, what you’d finally confessed to him, and not in some tear-stained letter. 

You opened your mouth to speak again but this time he cut you off, though not with his words. His soft lips crashed into yours as sixty years of longing took over and he could no longer hold himself back. It was like coming home, finding safety when you’d been lost, unsure if you would survive. But you’d made it, you’d fought and clawed your way back, you refused to be parted from him, even when you’d been nothing more than another soul to fuel an ancient force, nothing more than a body left bleeding on a cold stone ground.  

The taste of salt from your tears filled your mouth along with the sweetness of the berries he’d had not so long ago. It was messy, but it was perfect, it was everything you’d wanted for so long and hadn’t let yourself even dream of having. 

You clutched at the front of his shirt, as you held back your sobs of relief, pulling him closer, needing his weight on you to hold you down before you floated away like an errant balloon.

You pressed yourself against him, the heat from his body filling yours as he settled between your hips, his hands caressing you with a reverence you weren’t sure if you deserved, but craved nonetheless.

His tongue flicked along your lips, a silent plea to let him in that you were more than happy to grant. You needed all of him, you wanted to feel every inch of him on your skin, but even that wouldn’t be enough. 

You ground your hips against his in a silent plea of your own. No more waiting, if he wanted this, all he had to do was take it, you would give him everything. You’d both waited long enough. 

Loki broke the kiss with a stifled groan and you let out an embarrassing whimper at the loss of his lips on yours. 

Loki chuckled, “So needy, Princess, whatever shall I do with you?” 

He leaned down to press a kiss to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, you gasped as pleasure ran down your spine, “Anything you want, I’m all yours.” 

Loki brought his face back up to hover over yours, his eyes darkened, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

You held his face in your hands, “I am yours, Loki, I always have been and I always will be. Nothing will ever change that.”

Before you could fully take in the look of profound relief and adoration on his face, he closed the distance between you once more. He kissed you with a fierceness that left you breathless and seeing stars. His fingers tangled in your hair and he held you to him like he was afraid that if he let go you’d vanish. 

You were going nowhere, this small bunker with Loki was the only place you wanted to be. 

He pulled you up with him as he sat back on his heels with you straddling his lap. The sudden movement elicited a gasp from you as you clung to him, your blanket falling away. You’d thought that you would have been freezing without it, but whether it was due to Loki’s magic or the sheer heat of the moment, you were encompassed by warmth, the chill unable to reach you. 

Loki’s hands slid up the back of your shirt and you revelled in the feeling of his smooth hands on your bare skin. You arched against him, his mouth moving to your exposed throat. You sucked in a breath as shivers ran down your spine. 

“Loki, please.” You begged.

“What is it you want, Princess,” Loki mumbled against your shoulder.

You ground your hips into him, your mind foggy with need, “You, I want you.” 

“You have to be more specific than that.” 

You growled in frustration and he laughed. He knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear you beg for it. In this instance, you found yourself not above begging. 

“Please touch me.” You whispered, your cheeks heating up. 

He smiled against your throat, “I am touching you.” 

You grabbed his hand from where it rested between your shoulder blades and pulled it around to your breasts.

“Here.” You breathed. Loki looked up at you, his pupils blown wide as he ghosted deft fingers over the aching peeks. You threw your head back as a wonderful sensation radiated down into your core.

“If you insist.”

You didn’t have any sassy responses, you were too lost in the feeling of his hands on your breasts, your hips grinding into his as you panted. His cock was hard against you and it sent a thrill through your body. You reached one hand down to slip under his pants, but he caught your wrist.

“Focus on yourself, for now, Princess, we can get to that later.”

Any protest died in your throat as Loki swiftly removed your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He leaned back, his eyes racking over your exposed form. You ducked your head, suddenly filled with embarrassment. 

“Don’t hide from me now,” Loki crooned, his hand cupping your cheek and bringing your gaze back to his, “You’re beautiful, Princess, I want to see all of you.” 

You released a shaky breath. After everything you’d both gone through, you didn’t need to feel embarrassed around him. His words filled you with tentative confidence, and you played with the hem of his shirt, looking at him through thick lashes, a silent question in the curve of your shy smile. 

Loki grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before shucking off his shirt. 

You didn’t know how he could see you as beautiful when he was sitting right there. His body was perfectly sculpted, like a marble statue of a God. His skin was smooth over tightly corded muscles, and without thinking, you ran your hand across his stomach and up his chest. He was stunning, and you wanted more. 

As if hearing your thoughts, Loki laid you back down on the bed once more and you sucked in a breath as his tongue darted out to tease the tip of your breast. He gave you a wolfish grin before taking it entirely in his mouth. You moaned as the feeling spread through you, your fingers pulling gently at his hair. 

He’d propped himself up with one arm, and the other snaked down your torso, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your pants to the soaking heat underneath. When he gently brushed over your clit, you whined, that was what you’d been craving, that was what you needed. 

You bucked against his hand, desperate for more of that feeling, those sparks that ran down to your toes and made them curl. Loki released your breast and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, fully intending to protest, but any disappointment was quickly erased as he pulled your pants down and off your legs, before nudging them apart and settling himself between them. You watched with bated breath, feeling shy but unwilling to tell him to stop. 

He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, “Are you sure you want me to continue? We can always stop right here.” 

“Don’t stop.” You said breathlessly, “Please.”

His eyes darkened, “Relax for me, Princess.” 

You hadn’t realized that you were tensing up, but at his instructions you laid back down, releasing the tension in your shoulders. 

“Good girl,” He purred, before his mouth was on you once more, his tongue parting you as he licked a long strip up to your clit. It felt amazing and your legs quivered, you weren’t sure how you hadn’t fallen apart then and there, but as he continued his ministrations, his hands gripping tightly on your thighs, you found yourself lost in his touch. You moaned as he worked, your body tingling with pleasure. He pressed his tongue against your entrance and when you wiggled against him, your hands gripping the sheets, he slipped his tongue inside you. It was everything you wanted and more and your hips bucked off the bed as he brought one hand up to rub your clit. That delicious pressure built up inside you, threatening to overwhelm you, before your release shook through your body, pulling a cry from your throat. 

You were flushed and sweaty, but it still wasn’t enough, your body still ached for him, and from the hungry look he gave you as he crawled back over you, he felt that need too.

Your shaky hands went to his pants and this time he didn’t stop you. He captured your mouth in a gentle kiss as you pushed his pants off his waist and he brought them the rest of the way off. He broke the kiss and you locked eyes, his hips settling between yours as he stroked himself through your heat. His tip sat at your entrance and you wiggled your hips, urging him to continue. 

Loki looked at you tenderly, his lips parted and eyes half-lidded, “I love you, Princess.”

You weren’t able to respond as he slide his cock into your core. You whimpered, though not in pain, as he stretched you, panting over you as he let you adjust to him. He was large, larger than you had expected, but you wanted all of him and you were determined to do so. You rocked your hips, bringing your legs up to wrap around him. He inched into you, burying his face in your neck as he groaned. 

He pulled back out and the noise of protest that was building in your throat at the loss of him quickly died when he pushed his cock back in, hitting your clit and making you see stars. 

“Faster, Loki, please.” You begged, your mind foggy with need. 

Loki brought his face back up to hover over yours, “Anything for you, Princess.”

The pace he set was punishing in all the right ways and you moaned as the pressure started to build back up in your core. You clawed at Loki’s back, trying to grab hold of something lest the pleasure overtake you.

He kept his gaze on you, taking in all of your expressions as he propped himself up on one arm and used his free hand to rub your clit. It didn’t take long for you to be thrown over that edge once more, your eyes fluttering as the shocks of your release made cascaded through you.

It wasn’t long before Loki followed after you, his beautiful face filled with desire as he spilled into you. 

You were both left panting, faces flushed, and thoroughly satisfied. There had been so much tension built up between you both that you hadn’t realized was there, but as it dissipated and Loki rested his forehead against yours, you felt a heavy pressure lift from your shoulders. 

“I love you too.” You gently stroked your fingers up his side. 

Loki smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

You may have ended your time together before you’d had a chance to tell him how you felt. But now you had all the time in the world for just the two of you. Whatever life threw your way you would be able to handle as long as Loki stayed by your side. You felt invincible, elated, and you couldn’t imagine anything ruining that feeling. 

The problem with your imagination was that it often strayed towards ideal scenarios, whereas the reality you were about to find yourself in was more dangerous than you had ever wanted. But for now, you were content to lay with him, making up for the time you had lost and the time you sought to regain.

A/N: Thank you for all your lovely comments they mean the world to me!! I am hoping to have the next chapter out by Thursday :)

Next Chapter

#loki needs a hug #loki x reader #protective loki #loki x you #loki x y/n #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #reader insert #slow burn #fluff #smut #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #no use of y/n

[tired-truffle]

Rivers and Roads

A Lokixfem!reader Fic

Word Count: 3.7k

Part 14/16

Trigger Warnings at the end of the fic

Tagged readers (let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates!): @scarlet2007 @lovelysizzlingbluebird

Song Recommendation for this chapter:

I made a playlist on my spotify of other songs I think go well with this chapter :)

Masterlist

“To ensure that whoever possesses it, understands its power; The Stone demands a sacrifice.”

The words you had been dreading to hear since you realized what you would have to do were finally said. You had been suppressing your terror and anxiety since the idea first came to you. Yet, as you stood at the edge of the cliff on Voromir, overlooking its barren yet strangely beautiful landscape, you found that you also felt relief. It was almost over, everything you’d done had led up to this moment and you would make sure you saw it through. You didn’t have any other options.

“In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. A soul for a soul.” 

It took all your willpower to turn around, you knew as soon as you saw Loki, that brief sense of relief would vanish. 

“I accept the stone’s demand.” Your voice wavered as you saw the realization dawn on Loki’s face, quickly replaced by a spark of rage, of betrayal. 

“You knew.” He hissed, taking a few steps forward, “You knew you lied to everyone, you lied to me. Did you really think I would let you sacrifice one of us? And for what? They’ve all been dead for five years, let them stay that way!”

You took a careful step back towards the cliff and he halted his advance, panic fleeting across his face, “I never planned on sacrificing you, they still need you, Thor still needs you. You’ve seen the shape that he’s in, it would tear the last part of his heart away if he lost you too.”

You were right, that moment on the hill at New Asgard had been the first time you’d seen him hopeful in five years, you couldn’t go back and tell him that his last family member had died. You couldn’t snuff out his spark like that.

“I don’t give a damn what my brother needs,” He growled, his fists clenching at his sides. 

You chuckled humourlessly, “We both know that’s a lie.” 

He clenched his jaw, “You know I can stop you, you aren’t strong enough to overpower me. I’ve proven that on many occasions.”

“I know,” You said, palms turned up in an effort to display trust and openness, “but before you try, will you at least hear me out?” 

“Nothing you could say would make me let you fall to your death for some stupid rock.” He spat, his face contorting with disgust, “Do you really think so little of me that you believe I would allow this lunacy?”

“Please, Loki, let me explain.” 

His jaw clenched as though it took all his effort not to spit back a retort. You took that as a go-ahead or as much of one as you were going to get. 

“You brought me here six years ago. You wanted answers on what your future held, but instead, you got me and my faulty memory of a movie series I’d watched.” You smiled sadly at him, “I couldn’t change anything, no matter what I did. I tried so hard but nothing got better. Ragnarok still happened, Thanos still snapped, and here we are, years later and I haven’t made a dent. I have nothing left to offer but this. I have to do this, I couldn’t let anyone else take the risk. Romanoff would have done it, but she’s sacrificed enough. She could have her family back, she deserves to live, to be happy, for once. You all do.”

“And you don’t?” He demanded. You didn’t say it, but the look in your eyes was enough for him to understand that you didn’t think you deserved that, not after all your failures, “And you did change something, you saved me.”

You blew out a shaky breath as you tried to hold back your tears, “I’m not meant to be here, this isn’t my world, you’ll all be fine without me, just like you were before. I chose this as my destiny.” You chuckled under your breath, “It’s my glorious purpose if you will.”

Anger flashed in his eyes, “That’s not funny.”

“Oh come on, Loki, I’m about to die,” Your voice broke and you choked back the ever-building sob in your throat, “Let me have this.”

He ground his teeth, “No.”

Whether that meant he wouldn’t let you have this or he wouldn’t let you die didn’t matter, you had to keep going. You took a step back towards the cliff’s edge, Loki moving with you.

“You have to let me go, you’ll be okay.” You promised, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince of this more; Loki or yourself. 

“Princess,” He said so softly, so full of a deep and powerful emotion you won’t let yourself name for fear that you’d back out of your plan. The sound of your name as a plea on his lips shattered your heart into a million pieces and you stifled the sob that tried to pull itself from your throat. You had to do this, you couldn’t give up now, as much as you might want to. 

“I won’t let you go. I need you…” He trailed off, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say more, before shutting it with a look of pain on his face. You saw it then, that subtle ripple in the air as he projected an image of himself while he went invisible. You knew he would do this, you knew him better than you’d like to admit, but you’d come prepared. He underestimated you and you had counted on that.

“Loki, please don’t do this.” Your eyes filled with tears as you felt his arms loop around your waist and up your back, hauling you securely against him as he pulled you away from the edge, spinning so it was his back to the cliff.

“I brought you to this world, I allowed you to come on this trip because you said it would be an easy puzzle that we could both solve, that you wanted to take the chance to see an alien planet with me. You didn’t think you could lie to the God of Lies and get away with it, did you?” His voice sounded so full of rage, but from the way his hands shook as they pressed flat against your back you knew it was to cover up the hurt and the terror he was too afraid to show.

You held back a shuddering sob, leaving your arms hanging limply at your sides. You knew he wouldn’t make it easy for you, but you had had no idea how much the thought of leaving him forever so that the lives of billions could go on would tear at your heart and soul. It was simple enough, in theory, one soul for so many, but it was your soul, and you had tied it so fiercely to the man holding you against him like a lifeline that it became difficult to see past his sad, sea-green eyes. 

“I knew you’d figure it out sooner or later,” You laughed lightly in an attempt to cover your sobs but you ended up with hot tears streaming down your face as you subtly reached into the pocket of your pants and gripped the cold metal inside, “I also knew you’d try to stop me, but I can’t let you, the fate of billions of people depends on it.” You gripped the back of his leather outfit in one hand, the other bringing up the syringe you had hidden. 

“Pray tell what a puny mortal like you could do against a God like me? Must we go back to keeping you in a cage?” His voice dripped with the venom he always used to cover up his true feelings, the ones he didn’t want anyone to know he had, but that had been painfully obvious to you from the moment you first saw him. 

“You’re angry, and that’s okay, you can be angry with me.” You pulled back so you could look at his face creased with worry, you moved your hand that had been clenching his clothes to his cheek, brushing your finger of his smooth skin and released a shuddering breath as he leaned into your touch, his eyes desperately searching yours, “But I need you to know I’m not trying to abandon you, Loki, I wouldn’t be doing this if I had any other choice. You know me, you know I couldn’t condemn someone else to death.” 

“Then you should have let me carry that burden. I would push them over the cliff myself if it meant you would be safe. They already see me as the villain, it wouldn’t make a difference to me.” He leaned forward so your foreheads touched, his skin was warm against yours, a reminder of the life you were giving up for yourself and yet giving to so many others. 

“No.” You shook your head, “You are meant for so much more than that, more than this, more than me,” Your voice cracked and you had to stop before you let your terror break through the wall of emotions you were holding back.

“That’s not your choice to make.” 

You smiled, a true, genuine smile, as you thought of how much he had changed since you first met him, how he’d gone from surviving to living. Those little moments together in your cottage in New Asgard were the reasons you were able to be in this moment, prepared to sacrifice your life, to undo what you hadn’t been able to see. You’d gotten so much more time with Loki than you could ever have imagined, and you were thankful for that gift.

“It’s your choice what you do with your future, just as my sacrifice will be my choice and mine alone.” Before he could react you brought the syringe down as fast as you could and jammed it into his backside, emptying the contents in one quick motion. 

The flash of betrayal in his eyes broke your heart anew, you hated that you had done this to him. 

His eyes widened, “What did you do.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation.

“Like I said,” Your lips trembled as his grip on you slackened, “I knew you’d try to stop me, and I couldn’t let you. I came prepared.” 

As his body went limp, you tried your best to catch him and ease him onto the floor. You may not have been the strongest person, and he was heavier than you’d anticipated, but you were able to clumsily bang up your knees on the hard rock surface to keep him from getting hurt.

His eyes fluttered as he tried to stay conscious, his breathing slowing as the drugs took effect. 

“Princess,” He whispered, a last, desperate plea, and as much as it killed you to leave him like this, you knew what you had to do. 

“I’m so sorry, Loki,” Your chest spasmed as the sobs you were trying so hard to hold back finally broke free. The tears streamed down your face in rivers as you gritted your teeth against the onslaught of anguish. “I wanted nothing more than to spend my life with you by my side,” You pursed your lips, your salty tears leaking into your mouth. “But I’m afraid that’s not in the cards for us.”

“Don’t leave me.” He begged, his eyes filling with tears as his body remained unresponsive to his wishes. 

“I left you a note, it’s under my pillow.” You ignored his request, if you tried to answer you didn’t know if you’d have the strength to deny him. “I’m not good at saying how I feel, and maybe that makes me a coward for not telling you to your face, but for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t change a thing about the past six years, every moment with you was perfect.” 

He groaned, a small sound of distress as his brain could no longer resist the drugs and he was swept away into unconsciousness. You stroked his cheeks with the back of your fingers, wiping away the few tears he had shed. Your body was wracked with sobs as you leaned forward, placing a light kiss soaked with tears on his forehead, “I’m sorry I never said it when you could hear it,” You whispered, “But I always loved you.”

It took everything you had to pull yourself away from him, you’d already taken enough time. You didn’t know how fast the drugs would wear off on a God, Stark hadn’t given you specifics, and you couldn’t risk him waking back up and stopping you, you only had one dose and even if you had more, you doubt he’d underestimate you again. 

You stepped to the edge of the cliff, staring down at the rocky platform below. Your heart was hammering in your throat, your palms getting slick with sweat, your survival instinct screaming at you to step back. 

“Will this work?” You asked the Red Skull without turning to look at him.

“The soul stone will accept your sacrifice.” The Red Skull confirmed, his voice carrying along the wind towards you. 

You nodded, taking a deep and shaky breath, “Will he hate me for this?” You didn’t know why you asked. Comfort, maybe, or confirmation that you are doing the right thing. Whatever it was, even before the Red Skull answered, you know it wouldn’t be what you wanted to hear. 

“I cannot see the future, it is up to you to decide if a negative outcome to Loki Laufeyson’s life is something you are willing to risk.” 

You hastily wiped the tears off your cheeks as they rolled down and fell towards the open cliff face. He wouldn’t be alone, you may be gone, but he would always have Thor. You had to trust in his brother to look after him, and for Loki to make his own decisions. You hoped that your letter would help, though you knew your betrayal was not something he would get over quickly. 

It was out of your hands, and it was time you stopped stalling. 

You looked once more at Loki, your hands trembling as you took in as much of him as you could while you still had time. You wanted to say goodbye, but it didn’t feel right, you weren’t sure you could stomach the thought of never seeing him again, even though you knew that was what fate had in store for you. You settled on something less permanent, “Goodnight, Loki.”

You turned back towards the cliff edge, closing your eyes, and imagined a better time, a time when you and Loki could have made it through this, maybe spent some more time in New Asgard or explored other cities that Earth had to offer. You could have shown him the place you grew up, maybe you could have found some variant of your family there that would have jogged your memory. Wherever you would have gone, you would have wanted to be with him. 

You leaned forward, terror building in your chest as your feet slipped off the edge of the cliff. The wind whipped through your hair and flipped you around as you fell. Your heart hammered in your throat but you refused to open your eyes, you didn’t want to see what was coming. 

You didn’t feel the impact, you were simply falling, and then you weren’t. Then there was nothing. 

* * *

When you opened your eyes you found yourself at a small metal desk in a dark room, illuminated only by a lamp. In front of you was a letter, the syringe you’d used on Voromir laying beside it. You felt tears run down your cheeks as you read over what you’d written. 

My Prince,

I can’t count the number of drafts I’ve written of this letter since I realized that this was the only way I could fix my mistake. You always tell me that it wasn’t my fault, but I know that if I’d been more careful I could have stopped Thanos. I looked over too many important details, and I could never seem to remember enough. I wish I could let go of that guilt, but trillions of people died and I owe it to them to bring everyone back. I’ve had more years with you than I deserve but I am grateful to have been given the chance to be your friend. You mean more to me than you know.

I’m sure you’ll be upset and angry with my decision, but please, don’t take it out on yourself or anyone else. I can’t tell you how to feel, but I want you to understand that this is my choice and only I am to blame for this, just like how you react is your choice too. You can be mad at me all you want. I’m dead, I can take it. 

At least I’d better be, you only get to read this letter over my dead body… Too soon?

Don’t beat yourself up for not stopping me, I’ve had a whole year since I remembered what the Avengers would have done to un-snap everyone and I’ve spent countless hours thinking of this plan. You’ll only have minutes at best. Though when you get back you won’t have to deal with Thanos again since Nebula didn’t go on the mission, I hope it gives you time to sort through your feelings. Tell Stark he’s welcome that he doesn’t have to die to kill that Thanos. 

I’m not too stubborn to admit that I’m afraid. I have no idea what will happen to me, but I have to fix my mistake. I didn’t stop Thanos from snapping, but I will undo it. It’s strange but I feel relieved that I won’t have to worry about it much longer.

I’m sorry if I make some shitty jokes in this letter or when we get to Voromir, but you aren’t the only one who deflects their feelings through humour. But I’m terrified, I don’t find any of this funny. I’m grieving for things that I will never get to see or have. I don’t know if I have the strength to throw myself over that cliff. That’s why you must be the one there with me. I can be sure I will do everything in my power to keep safe, even if it means I won’t be. I can only do that with you. No one else is as important to me as you. 

We got off to a rocky start, you were still in a bad place, and I had just been launched into a world where no one knew me, but I knew everyone. I like to think somewhere along the way you begrudgingly started to tolerate me (that was your first mistake). After that, I wormed my way into your friendship and somehow you’ve continued to tolerate me for almost six years. I’m not sure if you know how I feel about you, but I plan to make it very clear here in case I chicken out on Voromir. 

It’s so difficult to put my feelings for you into words. I feel like I could never truly capture what my heart tells me every time I see your stupid smirk, but I’m going to try. 

Loki, I love you so much I can barely breathe when I’m around you, but like, in a good way. I love the way your eyes light up when you're teasing me, the way the corners of your mouth tilt up when you are holding back a smirk, and how, without trying, you make me feel like I have a home as long as I’m with you. I feel like the word love isn’t strong enough to describe how I feel about you but I don’t know any other word that would fit. You are more caring than you would ever admit, even if you try to project this image of having a massive ego, which on some level you definitely do (no offence) but I also know you have that stubborn self-sabotaging streak you can’t quite shake. You deserve to be happy, and I wish it could be with me, but I have to do this. I think I’m right in guessing you feel similarly for me to how I feel for you, but boy will this letter be super embarrassing if I got it wrong. 

Please don’t blame yourself for my choice.

You have people who care about you, lean on them when you need. I am so sorry I can’t be there with you, I don’t want to leave you, and I will always love you. No matter where I am I will always carry a piece of you with me, Soul Stone or no. I don’t know what will happen to me, if I’ll just cease to exist or if my consciousness will go elsewhere, but my soul will always remember you. 

You’ll wake up with a soul stone and without me. Maybe build me a statue or a make a play or something cool, but honestly, I think those are more your type of thing. The only thing I want for you when I’m gone is for you to be happy. I don’t expect it to happen right away, maybe you’ll always wonder what could have been like how I’m doing now. But if you take anything from this letter please let it be that I love you more than anything, and your happiness is what I want most of all. I’m sorry that I can’t have what I want be the same as what I need to do. 

I don’t know how to end this letter. I don’t think I want to end it, it feels so final. It feels like a goodbye I’m not ready to make, that I’m going to make sure you aren’t conscious for.

You were okay before me, I believe you can be okay without me. 

I'm sorry for making you endure another death, but I hope that years down the line you can forgive me, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for doing this to you. 

With love,

Your Princess

Trigger Warnings: Talk of dying, completed self-sacrifice.

A/N: This chapter has a special place in my heart and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did ❤️❤️

Thank you for all your lovely comments and notes, they mean so much to me!! Only two more chapters and an epilogue to go 🥲

Next Chapter

#hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #reader insert #slow burn #fluff #protective loki #hurt loki #loki needs a hug #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #eventual smut #Spotify

[tired-truffle]

Rivers and Roads

A Lokixfem!reader Fic

Word Count: 3.7k

Part 13/16

Tagged readers (let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates!): @scarlet2007

Masterlist

“Princess, it’s time to go.”

You whirled around from where you’d been anxiously pacing a rut on the floor of your cell. You figured it’d been a few days since you’d last seen Loki, but your internal clock was only so accurate. You were starving, your first clue that something had happened. Even when he wouldn’t visit you for days on end he always made sure you had food and water. You’d been lucky enough that you had a glass of water left over from a previous day and you’d been able to ration it, but eventually, that would have run out. You wondered if it had been a last-ditch attempt to get you to tell him where the Infinity Stones were, but there was something in your gut that told you otherwise. You knew of only one time he disappeared like that and you didn’t want to think of what came after, but when you saw what he was wearing, all hope that you were wrong about the timing of his disappearance was gone and was replaced by a deep sense of dread. 

“Where did you get those clothes?” You asked, your voice wavering with fear. You’d seen him wear that outfit before, though not in your universe, it was his usual black, gold, and green colour scheme, but toned down and angled in a way that brought more attention to the angular shape of his body. If your stomach hadn’t been boiling with horror, you would have blushed at that thought. The only thing keeping you intact was that he was wearing his large horned headgear, it meant you still had time. 

He paused his stride towards you, confusion clouding his face, “I beg your pardon?”

You opened and closed your mouth, unable to think of what to say. How were you supposed to tell him those were the clothes he would die in? 

Upon your inability to answer he continued to walk towards you, he grabbed your arm gently but firmly, and started tugging you along with him, “We have to leave, now.”

You let yourself be pulled by him, your heart beating in your throat as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“Where are we going?”

“Looks like I will be the one to cause Ragnarok after all,” Loki said with a mischievous smile, pulling you along as fast as you were able to run, “Surprisingly enough, I must give my brother credit for the idea.”

Your mind scrambled to catch up as Loki led you through hidden corridors, descending lower and lower into the palace, “You’re saying that you cause Ragnarok on purpose? That I warned you this would happen, only for you to be the one to do it?” 

“There’s no other choice,” Sorrow flashed across his face and you felt guilt rise in your throat, “Hela gains power from Asgard so we must destroy it. But don’t blame yourself yet,” It was like he’d read your mind, though you’d always worn your emotions on your sleeve, “Thanks to you, or rather thanks to spying on you, Heimdall was prepared and able to get more Asgardians to safety.” 

“What?” You asked, unsure what to make of any of that. You’d known that Hela was coming to Asgard, you’d warned Loki about it, as well as Ragnarok which you’d known would happen soon after, though you had been missing so many pieces, you were unable to tie the two events together. You’d been unable to save Asgard, but you’d been a help in saving more of its people. There was good and bad to that, but you were sure that it would haunt you all the same. Why did your memory have to be so faulty? You would have given up all the memories from your former universe to be able to save Asgard, but you hadn’t had that choice.

“Keep up, Princess, we are almost to Odin’s vaults,” Loki said, tugging you faster as he descended a large set of stairs, “Your slow mortal mind can have all the time to process when we are safely on my brother’s ship.” 

You could accept that. Being out of that cage for the first time in what had to be months was enough trouble for your brain to adjust to already, with Loki’s new change of clothes, there wasn’t much else you could handle. 

You and Loki burst through a beautifully ornate set of golden double doors, descending slim stairs into a room you recognized as Odin’s treasure vault. There was a light orange glow illuminating the room, and you trailed behind Loki as he let you go, aiming directly for the Skull of Surtur in one of the closest display stands. 

He picked it up, carrying it towards the Eternal Flame at the center of the room when he paused, looking towards a spot you could not see from your angle, though you already knew what resided there. It was the Tesseract, or more importantly, the Space Stone. 

“Loki, don’t take it.” You strode forward, catching up to him. You stood in front of the Tesseract, your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

“You cannot stop me, Princess, that is rightfully mine.” Loki’s top lip curled up in a sneer, suddenly defensive. He tucked Surtur’s Skull under his arm and went to push you out of the way, but you held your hands up, your voice twisted with desperation. 

“It’s an Infinity Stone!” You exclaimed in a panic, his gaze snapping back to you, “It’s the one Thanos will kill you for. Leave it here, or he won’t just kill you but half of the remaining Asgardians. You can’t beat him, I know you think you can, but I’ve seen you try. It doesn’t work.”

His eyes scanned your face for any hint of deception, “Why should I believe you now?”

“I have never lied to you before, please just trust me on this one. I can’t watch that again.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as a faint memory played through your head, one you wished desperately that you could forget. It was like watching a movie screen play out the worst possible thing that you could imagine, and the sickening snap of Loki’s neck as it broke under Thanos’s grasp, the veins bulging on his face as he turned a horrifying shade of purple would be forever seared into your brain. 

A muscle in his jaw ticked, “If you’re trying to trick me, you will regret it.” 

Relief flooded you, “I promise that I’m not.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Loki turned away from you, and the Tesseract, continuing his run towards the Eternal Flame. Loki placed the Skull of Surtur into the burning fire before looking back at you, a mix of disbelief and worry clouding his face. For all he talked about hating his father, or feeling like the Asgardians were beneath him, this was still his home, and he had been tasked with destroying it. 

He turned back to the flame and said, “With the Eternal Flame, you are reborn.”

He took a step back as fire blazed around the skull, the eyes taking shape as it started to grow. 

“Loki,” You prompted when he didn’t immediately start running away, “Let’s go.”

He spun quickly, running at top speed towards you, you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to run that fast, you’d been locked in a room for so long you were very out of shape, and you were pretty sure that running had never been your forte. It seemed Loki had the same thought, as instead of grabbing you by the arm once more, he grabbed you around the waist and slung you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, barely slowing down as he sprinted up the stairs. 

You yelped in surprise and Loki chuckled, “You’re welcome, Princess, if I’d allowed you to run on your weak mortal legs, you wouldn’t have survived.” 

“Asshole,” You muttered, but over the breaking of stone behind you as Surtur grew to his full size, he pretended to be unable to hear you. Though you doubted he didn’t know how you felt. He may be right in the fact that he’d saved your life, but you couldn’t help but think the God of Mischief enjoyed it a bit too much.

* * *

You jolted awake, the memory having ended. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and were surprised to find the overwhelming scent of pine filling your senses. You realized with a start that the wonderful warmth spreading through you was due to a very clingy Loki who’d wrapped himself around you while you slept. From the even pace of his breathing, he appeared to be asleep, thank God. The way he held you had the butterflies in your stomach going crazy and your head feeling light. Or maybe that was from the confusing vision you’d just had. You didn’t understand half the thoughts that had run through your head, you weren’t used to having visions where you could remember what you’d thought at that time. To make matters worse, you now had a horrible image of Loki’s death that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget. You knew you had prevented it, which gave you a small bit of relief but watching it play out like that, on a large movie-type screen had you even more confused. Why would you watch something like that and how was that even possible?

You were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts as you became more aware of the precarious position you were in. Loki was pressed against you fully, his chest against your back, his legs tucked in behind yours, and his cheek resting against the back of your head. His breath washed over your neck, bumps raising on the skin it ghosted over. His arms were wrapped around you, one under your neck and bent at the elbow to hold your shoulder. The other around your waist, his hand holding your stomach where your shirt had ridden up as he held you tightly to him. 

Your breathing hitched, there was no way you were getting out of this without waking him up. Not that you wanted to stop this, the chill of the bunker wasn’t pleasant and you were reluctant to give up your heater. It definitely had nothing to do with the way your heart sang at his touch... Maybe you’d been a bit lonely, but who could blame you?

You wondered if you could pretend to be asleep, would he notice, or if he did would he even say anything?

“I know you’re awake, Princess.” Loki said, sleep still thick in his voice, “You’re welcome for keeping you warm, no need to ruin it with your overthinking.”

You let out a squawk of indignation and struggled against him to no avail, no matter how you squirmed his hands stayed firmly planted. He would not let you go. 

“Careful, Princess,” He chuckled, the deep vibrations of that sound reverberating through you, “That may not have the effect you intended.”

You paused. Your mind, still not fully woken up, took a minute to process what he meant. When you realized that your squirming in an attempt to get free meant that you were wiggling your hips against his, you felt a bright, burning blush spread from the tip of your ears and down your neck. Oh.

“Do you have to be this way so early in the morning?” You complained, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment. 

“Would you rather I ignore you again?” You could feel his smirk against the back of your head and you wanted to reach around and smack it off, “Or perhaps you preferred when I was ‘an ass’ as you so delicately put it.”

You groaned in exasperation, “Is it only those three options.”

“I’m afraid so,” Loki said with mock seriousness, “As a reward for your valiant attempts to come to my aid, I have decided to speak with you again.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You’re the worst.” 

“You keep saying that, yet you don’t believe it.”

“What makes you think that?” 

“You are much more capable than you pretend to be, if you wanted to be free of me, you would be.” There was an undertone to his voice, something more to his tone that you didn’t yet have the memory to understand. 

You wanted to argue, but anything you would say would only be used against you. The more defensive you got the more he would be able to twist your words. 

A million questions rose to your tongue but you couldn’t put any into words. Instead, you let yourself lay in Loki’s arms, enjoying the heat and the feel of him around you, as much as you tried to deny it. You told yourself that it was just a nice change of pace from yesterday, but the more memories you regained, the more you were sure there was something more to your relationship with him. Whether you had admitted that to him or not remained to be seen.

It wasn’t until your stomach grumbled unhappily that you decided to start your day. You’d both cleaned up yesterday, but you’d still instructed Loki to wash up first while you made breakfast so he could take a look at how his ribs and temple were doing. He only complained a little and eventually gave in. You took that as a win. 

You sat on the bed beside Loki, a thick blanket wrapped tightly around you as you ate breakfast in silence. The wet grain-type food was topped with what Loki told you was a type of dried fruit was a satisfying enough meal, but you barely tasted it. You were too busy thinking of your dream. You finally had a clearer idea of what had happened with Asgard. You’d tried to warn Loki, even though you had limited knowledge on it, and because you’d spoken of it and Heimdall had been able to hear you somehow - these damn magic people and their magical tricks - more Asgardians were saved than would have been if you hadn’t been there. You’d also managed to convince Loki not to take the Space Stone, saving his life and the lives of those who would have died when Thanos attacked. Yet, you were still unable to save many Asgardian lives, or Asgard itself. You’d been there with Loki when he’d caused Ragnarok, you hadn’t been able to do anything to fix it as his home was destroyed. It left a bitter taste in your mouth that made you reluctant to finish your breakfast.

Loki noticed your sullen mood and took it upon himself to say something, “What did I just tell you about overthinking?”

You glared at him, “If you would tell me about our past then maybe I wouldn’t have to.”

Loki frowned down at his nearly empty bowl, “If I could I would, Princess.”

“Can you tell me why you can’t?” You asked, still desperate for any answers. 

Loki shook his head, stirring his food around his bowl. Ugh.

“But I’ve remembered so much, how will it hurt me if you confirm things I already know?” 

“This isn’t entirely my doing, I didn’t make the rules.” You winced as a sharp pain stabbed at your skull. Loki looked at you in alarm, “This is why I don’t tell you, you put yourself at risk and I will not allow that.”

You clenched your fists, leaning your head back to rest on the wall behind you, “Because I’ve already done that before, right? I did something that put me at risk and hurt you.” 

Loki clenched his jaw to hold himself back from saying anything, but you took that as confirmation. The pain laced through your skull again, causing you to groan and double over. You didn’t want to be sick again, but if you continued down this path you would be. 

“Stop this,” Loki pulled you back up by your shoulders, steadying you as you swayed, “Or do you want me to go back to ignoring you? I’ll do it if it means you will be safe.”

“But I have to know!” You ground your teeth in frustration.

“Why?” Loki demanded, “Why is it so important to you that you would hurt yourself like this.”

“Because-” Tears sprung to your eyes as the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “Because if I don’t know what happened then I can’t stop it from happening again and it will be just like with Thanos and Ragnarok. I can’t be responsible for any more deaths, Loki, I can’t bare it.”

Loki released you, shock written across his face. For once he’d been rendered speechless.

“I just want to know what happened,” You begged, “You don’t understand what it’s like to know so little about who you are, about your past and the people you care about. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“There’s nothing I can do.” From the hard set of his mouth, you knew that he wasn’t going to budge on this. Even after you’d spilled your worst fear, the guilt that threatened to consume you wasn’t enough to get Loki to help you. You felt tears of frustration threatening to spill over and you wanted to scream. You were sick and tired of crying, you just wanted your memories and your life back. Why was that so hard to give? “I know you’re angry at me, but I don’t know why. I need to know why.” 

Loki’s face softened, “I’m not angry at you.”

“But you were.” You argued, “And I think you still are, even if you lie to yourself about it.” 

There was a war of emotions across his face and you needed to fix it like you needed to breathe. 

You sat on your heels, scooting closer until you could poke your hand out of the blanket to grab his. His palm was smooth but calloused in yours, warming you up from the inside out. 

“For what it’s worth,” You pursed your lips, unsure if you should continue, but you were so desperate for something, anything, from him, “I am so sorry, Loki. I know I messed up, but if there’s anything I learned from my memories is that I would have never wanted to hurt you, I lo-“

You cut yourself off, looking down at your lap. You couldn’t say that, not yet. Your tears finally spilled over, warm against your cold cheeks. 

“Princess,” Loki wiped the tears from your face, gently holding your chin and guiding you to look back up at him, “You cannot blame yourself for what happened to Asgard or the actions of Thanos. How many times must I tell you before you believe me?”

He’d said that to you before in your memory of trying to stitch him up the first time. 

“If I’d remembered more maybe I could have stopped it.” You closed your eyes, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“That is as untrue now as it was then.” Loki brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face and removed his hand from yours to bring it up and cup your cheek. 

You leaned into his touch, tears leaking onto his skin, “I still felt like it was my fault, I had to fix it. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Loki whispered tenderly, “I should have been more careful with you.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes, looking through wet lashes up at his stricken face, “I can take care of myself.”

Loki smiled sadly, “That’s the problem.”

You choked on a laugh, though the tears continued to fall despite your best attempts to stop them, “Gee, thanks.”

Loki sighed, and waved you towards him, his arms open, “Come here, Princess.”

You didn’t give yourself a second to hesitate as you climbed onto his lap, your legs straddling his, and you wrapped your blanket around the both of you, resting your head on his shoulder, your face in the crook of his neck. He held you against him, his fingers making small, soothing circles against your back. You let yourself cry, all that pent-up frustration releasing as you felt warm and safe in Loki’s arms. You hadn’t realized quite how much you craved contact with him until that morning, and as you gripped the back of his shirt in your hands, tears soaking into it, you could no longer deny that you needed him. You weren’t sure when you’d started to feel this way, but whatever happened between your last memories and ending up sixty years in the future hadn’t lessened it. You’d loved him then and you loved him now. You only wished that you could remember more of your time together, the little moments that led to this feeling were slowly coming back to you, but you were left wondering if you had ever told him how you felt. 

You pulled back so you could look up at him, his face more open than you’d seen it in a long time. You straightened so you were at eye level with him, placing a hand on his neck as your heart raced a mile a minute in your chest. His lips parted, you were only inches away from him, his breath was warm against your skin and you wanted nothing more than to close that distance.

You leaned your forehead so it rested against his, and your eyelids fluttered shut, “We were friends.”

“Yes, Princess,” Loki smiled softly, “We were.”

You hesitated, your heart racing as you asked in no more than a whisper, “But there was more to it than that, right?”

“You know I cannot answer that, as much as I may want to.” 

“Loki,” You said, your voice almost too quiet to hear. 

You weren’t sure what you were going to say next, but whatever it had been, you would never find out. The words died in your throat as your ears started to ring and your mind felt foggy. You stiffened, you’d left the stone in your pants from yesterday, after all that had happened you’d been too distracted to remember. You were left helpless as the vision overtook you, pulling you away from Loki’s warm embrace, and bringing you somewhere that filled you with an overwhelming sense of foreboding. 

Of all the times you’d had a vision, this had to be the worst.

A/N: The next chapter should be out Friday! Sorry for the cliffhanger 😬 Any ideas on what the vision will be?

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#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki needs a hug #protective loki #hurt/comfort #hurt loki #fem!reader #reader insert #marvel mcu #loki fanfic #fluff #Angst with a happy ending #eventual smut #visions