Sorcha's Secret World, Part 2: Mystery and Mischief.

Chapter 27, I wrote you a letter.

Leaving Loki behind in Jotunnheim was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. But eventually, my vigil by his side had to come to an end.
No spirit had come to visit me to speak last words of comfort. I thought perhaps Loki was too angry at me after meeting an untimely death by my hand.
I would not have blamed him if he had been.

Jessie was waiting for me at home. I could tell from her face she already knew. Someone had been kind enough to spare me from having to be the bearer of the bad news.
"I never said goodbye to him, mum," she began to cry. "I just left for Asgard, I didn't even give him a hug goodbye..."
I took her into my arms.
"He knew sweetie, and he understood. The plan was always for you to leave right away, he wanted you to be safe."
"But I never told him... I never told him..."
"You didn't have to. He knew," I reassured her, my heart breaking all over again. "He knew from the moment he first set foot in our home. He knew he had found a family. He knew he belonged with us.
He loved you so much, sweetie, and he knew you loved him. He was always so observant. You didn't have to say it, he has always known."
Together we cried for what felt like hours, knowing our family would never be the same without Loki.
Eventually, I sent Jessie to bed to get some sleep, with the promise I would do the same.

I was completely and utterly exhausted. And yet, sleep eluded me. I kept going over Loki's final moments in my mind.
Had there been any way I should have realised it was my Loki? And sign he'd given that I had missed at that moment?
But try as I might, I could not see a way I could have known.
I tossed and turned, my mind in turmoil, my heart aching. How was I ever supposed to learn to live with this?

Friends and family came to visit the next day, to express their condolences and pay their respects. I refused to see anyone.
I could not bear to see the pity on their faces, I could not bear to face the blame in their eyes.

Asgard held a funeral for the soldiers lost during the battle, including Loki who was given a place of honour during the ceremony.
But I declined the invitation, I couldn't face saying goodbye a second time, not even to a ship with an empty funeral pyre.

Thor had tried to come by a few times, but I was refusing to see the big god as well, unable to face the grief that marred his handsome face.
He returned to Asgard.
First of all, just to help his father with the funeral, but he stayed to help restore order in the other realms. Asgard had received multiple requests from the other realms for aid, and with the Bifrost repaired, Odin could finally send his men to restore order.
I envied Thor in a way, for having something to take his mind off his pain and an enemy to take his anger out on.

Sif and her Valkyrie ventured into Niflheim to find if Loki's soul was truly there, risking the wrath of a vengeful Hel in mourning.
Sif felt Hel's claim on Loki's soul wasn't as ironclad as Loki had made it out to be. While Hel had helped to create Beaumont, Beaumont had never fulfilled his actual purpose to be a host for Loki's soul after Loki's death, voiding the agreement according to Sif.
She argued that Loki had died on the battlefield, my spell counting as the first act of aggression, and that Loki had been worthy of Valhalla at the end of his life.
But if Loki's soul was there, Sif could not find him.

Days passed as I failed to deal with my grief and guilt, sinking deeper and deeper into a depression I could not rouse myself out off.
I hardly ate and could not sleep. Day turned into night and night into day as I lay in the dark, repeating the events of that cursed day in my mind over and over again.
I had tried to sleep holding Loki's pillow but that hadn't helped a bit, it wasn't the same as falling asleep with his arms around me.
I tried wearing one of his t-shirts, I remembered reading that was something people did, but Loki was meticulous about keeping his clothes clean and it simply smelled like detergent.
Desperately I raided his wardrobe in the middle of the night, going through his clothes to find something that made me feel closer to him, something that would ease my pain.
In the end, it was the jacket of his Gucci suit that gave me some comfort. Whether it was that the expensive fabric of the suit retained his scent better, or whether it was my imagination, I don't know. But holding it tight to me I was finally able to doze off for a bit.