The Heat of the Snow // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 23

Loki recoils as if Stefan had slapped him. Ended...that's what he said...ended...she must have told him that...told him what I did...

"That's the thing, Stefan..." Loki croaks, rubbing a hand through his hair, "...I don't want it to be the end. I love your daughter. She's everything to me."

Stefan's face is grim, his mouth held in a tight line. "I know my daughter, Loki. She may not think I do, but I do. She is like how her mother was...stubborn until the end. Once she decides something, that is it."

"I need to speak to her. Please can you tell her I'm here?"

Stefan takes a deep breath. "Like I say...I know my daughter. I've seen her strength. But when she returned from your world...she was broken. You've hurt her more than anyone ever has. If you weren't who you were, and if I thought I would win, I would return the favour tenfold."

Loki casts his eyes down to the slushy snow by his feet. "I understand..." He rubs his eyebrows, a headache forming. "...you have no idea how much I regret what happened. I am sickened by my own actions...I just have to talk to her...try to explain and make this right."

"You'll have your work cut out if you do speak to her."

"I'm prepared for that," Loki says, meeting Stefan's gaze. "I'm prepared to do that every day that I'm with her."

Stefan sighs. "I'm afraid you'll have to find her first."

"What?" Loki asks, frowning.

"When she arrived here, she went straight to her bedroom...got changed into her winter gear...packed a big bag...and then left."

Loki's heart stumbles into a fast pound. "Where did she go?"

"I don't know, son," Stefan admits softly. "But she took some of the dogs...a sleigh...said she needed time. The only place I can think that she may have gone is the place she used to go with her mother. They'd often take off into the mountains. But I never knew where they'd go."

Loki's pulse skips. Where you and your mother used to go. Could it be...?

Stefan notices the look in Loki's eyes, the widening realisation, and opens the door wider when Loki backs off into the snow. "You think you know where she is?" he asks.

Loki nods, a whisper of a smile touching the corner of his mouth. "I have an idea."

***

The journey to the hot springs is longer than Loki remembered, especially because he chooses to use minimal magic. He decides to just tap into the lingering trace of you, mostly just for reassurance that he's going the right way. The scent of you calls to him like delicate night-blooming jasmine, curling through his senses before pulling him onwards. This is definitely the right way.

What will I say to her? She won't expect my presence...she told Stefan she needed time...didn't even tell him where she'd gone. Would she refuse to speak to me? Tell me to go home? I hope she doesn't.

Spiralling down from the mountains, the snow flurries coil around him, but this time his magic is warming—the layers of green, black and gold leather wrapped tight around his body and protecting him from the chill. Loki finds him thinking about what you must be wearing to be out here—similar to that first day he'd seen you. When you'd pushed the door open to yours and Stefan's home, finding Loki there. Your sharp tongue had piqued his interest immediately. The sweet curve of your red lips as you'd scowled at him over the table—oh, how he'd longed to kiss them, even then.

Then the day that'd followed, the majority of time spent with you—each and every glorious minute he'd been able to look upon your face. Gods, the things he'd wanted to do to you. Then you'd brought him to the hot springs...the one place where he'd seen something different in you. A beautiful purpose. A life once lived and memories never to be forgotten.