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Standing out in the burial field, Yen stares at the large stones set in a long-pointed oval, as snow swirls around her. She remembers the last time, she stood in such a place, the last time Loki had died and was buried. The stones still sit where they were placed countless years ago in the outline of a ship. They tower over her, drowning her in shadow and sorrow. To her, the early evening seems as dark as the dark of the moon.
Tear tracks streak down Yen’s face, their constant streams of agony ever present like the many scars she’s carried away from battle in exchange for her life. How she wishes she could exchange them, trade them, bargain, plea, beg even. If only to see him, one last time, to see the love of her life, her eternal companion through all these lives they’ve lived; to see Loki again.
This isn’t his first funeral, in this life nor in the last.
Always one for a show, Yen thinks, the corner of her mouth twitching into a sad smirk. If only this time it was a show.
But there had been proof this time, too much in fact, that her beloved was finally ripped from this world and from her side.
How long Thor had been standing at her side, she had no way of knowing save for the snow that sat atop his shoulders.
“It is time, sister, we must go.” Thor takes her hand in his, his words drifting softly away on the breeze. “He wouldn’t want you to suffer. He will return to you, as he always does.”
“I know.”
Yen lets him lead her back to the open wagon carved with runes to guarantee safe passage.
The landscape passes by in a blur of greys and white, and is soon marked by Yen’s constant tears and the tracks left from the goats pulling the wagon.
The pyre sits built up with Black Alder logs, ready for the ritual. Standing tall and tan amongst the chucks of ice on the black sand beach.
A crowd is already gathered, waiting for Yen and Thor’s arrival. Few people speak, most are silent save for their sobs and the occasional striking of hands in grief.
Helblindi and Býleistr stand closest to the pyre, bodies ridged, eyes fixed on the horizon, each holding a large torch.
“Helblindi. Býleistr.” Yen whispers, standing between the two brothers. Her heart melts at the sight of tears freshly fallen from their eyes. He really is gone this time.
“Yen.” Býleistr says, holding out a hand to her.
She nods, placing her hand in his. Helblindi takes her other hand and together they take a few short steps closer to the base of the pyre. Thor follows closely behind. When they stop, he places his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently.
“Begin.” The word leaves Yen’s mouth with a sob as another wave of grief takes her.
Helblindi starts, lowering his torch nearer the pyre. “Brother. May you rest in Valhalla…”
“…Until the time comes…” Býleistr continues, lowering his torch as well.
“…To join me again…” Yen whispers, her voice and her heart still not wanting to believe Loki is gone.
“Brother, be free to rest knowing–”
“Stop.” Comes a singular, loud call.
An ill silence falls over the crowd. Yen looks between the brothers and then turns to Thor.
The crowd murmurs and whispers. Confused gasps fill the air as heads turn toward the mysterious person.
Thor turns, and tucks Yen behind him as he sees a hooded figure standing at the back of the assembled crowd.
“I cannot allow this to continue.” The figure says, voice rough and unsteady, their limp barely noticeable as the crowd parts around them.
“What?” Yen whispers to herself, a glimmer of hope flickering in her broken heart.
The figure continues to advance, speaking though their words don’t reach her.
“Reveal yourself.” Thor calls to the person, gripping Mjolnir tightly, ready to end anyone that dare disturb the ceremony honoring Loki and his sacrifice.
“Do you wish it to be so?” The figure asks the small group surrounding Yen.
“Yes.” Yen says, her voice strong over the cold air. She stares down the hooded figure whose face is shrouded in an unnatural shadow. “Show yourself stranger. Or I will allow Thor to show you our sorrow and anger at this disturbance.”
“Not to mention what we’ll do to you,” Býleistr growls out, his eyes glowing with yellow magic, akin to Loki’s.
“Reveal yourself and you may yet leave with your life.” Helblindi scowls, dropping Yen’s hand and gripping his axe.
The figure drops the hood of their cloak.
The crowd gasps. Yen shakily exhales, unable to breath, her legs nearly give out at the sight before her: Loki.
“It can’t be…”
“Brother.” Thor rumbles darkly, though the smile on his face betrays him.
“Hello, my sweet.”
Loki smiles, extending a hand to her, ignoring his brothers’ various stares and states of shock.
She breaks into a run, time and space blur, her magic taking over before she can think, and she is in front of him in an instant.
Lifting a shaky hand, Yen reaches out to him, grazing her finger tips across his cheek and over his lips. Green and gold magic flicker vividly in his eyes as they always do, before they flutter shut at her cool touch.
“You are alive.”
“For you my dear.” Loki leans into her touch. “I couldn’t leave you in this life, not yet.”
A flash of yellow forms near them, but neither Loki nor Yen react, still staring at each other. Býleistr appears chuckling, patting Loki on the back, bringing him in for a harsh hug.
“I should have known.” Býleistr whispers to Loki. “But I hadn’t dared to.”
“Perhaps, you still do not yet know all my tells, little brother.” Loki grins wickedly.
“Perhaps that is for the best.” Helblindi laughs. “Though I do now owe you one thing, Loki.”
“And that is?”
Helblindi throws his left fist into Loki’s face, hitting him squarely, blood flying from his lips and nose at the contact. “Welcome back you fool.”
Yen laughs through her newly formed tears of joy; some things never change.
A pounding of feet barely reaches her ears as Thor picks up both Loki and Yen in a crushing hug.
“You sly man! You live!” Thor laughs. “Tonight, we celebrate!”
“Thor put us down.” Yen laughs.
“I missed you too, brother.” Loki gasps and Thor puts them down reluctantly. “But please, allow me a moment with my wife?”
“Then, we celebrate?”
“Then, we celebrate.” Loki agrees, his eyes fixed on Yen’s face.
“Then you explain what all this was for.” Helblindi says with a smirk. “I’m sure it’s one Hel of a tale.”
“It is, but if you’ll excuse us, for but a moment.” Loki takes Yen’s hand in his, pressing a kiss to it.
“Alright, alright.” Býleistr says with a knowing smile. “You know where to meet us… That is if Yen goes easy on you and you survive yet again.”
Loki nods and chuckles, “Until then.”
Loki’s smile turns boyish, like the one she fell in love with when they were but children causing chaos in the palace. “Shall we go home now, wife?”
“If you still know the way, husband.”
Loki’s laugh lingers, as together, Loki and Yen disappear in a shimmer of green magic, arriving at their hall within a blink of the eye.
“This is what, the third time I’ve crashed my own funeral?” Loki asks, hobbling with Yen towards the roaring fire.
“Fifth.” She states staring him down, almost still unbelieving that he’s here, had it not been, yet again, all a ruse.
“Really?” Loki chuckles. “That many?”
“Yes. You, you ass!”
“Darling, I told you, I –“
“No! I honestly… I wept… I… I… You were… We…” Yen huffs, trying to verbalize her irritation, her sorrow, her joy.
“Yen…”
“Shut up you fool.” Yen angrily whispers, with fresh tears in her eyes. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close to her. She threads her fingers through his hair, hoping the action will anchor her; willing her body to stop shaking. “You’re alive.”
“I am. It’s alright.” He says, pressing kisses into her dark, braided hair.
“I really thought, for a moment, you really…”
“Not even death could keep me from you.” Mischief in its truest form sparkles in Loki’s eyes. “My love, I will never leave you.”
“Never?”
“I swore it so many life times ago, and I still mean it.”
Yen shakes her head, smiling through her tears. “Gods, I love you.”
“I love you too, darling.”
“Why must you play with my heart?” She asks with a smile, that fades quickly. Yen turns her head to the side, anger building at the sight before her. “Is that blood?”
“No?” Loki turns slowly away, shielding his bleeding side from her view.
“That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.” She blinks hard. “Sit.”
“Yen, my love, I – “
“No. Sit.” She points a stern finger at him. “After all this time, after everything – how do you still find it in yourself to protest? You know I’m going to stitch you up, whether you like it or not.”
“Perhaps I like the struggle.” Loki smirks at her as he takes a seat on the bench near the fire.
“Defiant nature as always.” Yen chastises without malice, leaning down to kiss him, tasting blood on his lips.
Her fingers thread through his hair, tilting his head. “All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.”
Loki hums, “Love, you tease.”
“As do you.”
Loki pulls her down onto the bench, kissing her fiercely, hands roaming. “Norns, I’ve missed you.
“Loki.”
“Yes.” He sighs, between nips to her throat.
Yen’s hand grazes his injured thigh and she smirks as his breath catches in his throat from the pain.
“Alright, you’ve made your point.”
Yen kisses him again, tugging on his bottom lip, and pulling away from his grasp. “I’m glad you agree.”
She holds out her hand, expectantly, as she looks over the gash in his leg. Loki sighs, knowing its best to let her have her way, materializing a dagger from Norns knows where and handing it over to her. Possibly one of his many magical pockets as she liked to tease him in the past. Brandishing it, she easily cuts away the ruined leather of his trousers revealing the full extent of his injury. For as grateful as she is that he’s alive, she’s determined to heal him the simple, slow way. The pain will do them both good, allowing them a moment to heal from his latest stunt of trickery.
“Hmm.”
“Will I ever survive, surgeon?” Loki smirks, captivated still with being so close to her.
“Only just, my love.” Yen swirls her hand, materializing a needle, thin string, a rag, and bowl of water. “You’ve had worse, but you must sit still. Wouldn’t want you making a mess of my needle work.”
“Oh, never, my darling.” Loki’s smile is unfaltering.
“You seem awfully happy, possibly too much so?” Yen mumbles, as she starts working on cleaning his leg.
Loki takes her hand, kissing it, “I simply love you. Is that a crime?”
“Perhaps not. Perhaps it’s the blood loss, but I enjoy it regardless.” Yen smiles, raising a brow at him. “This next part…”
“I know, Yen. It is – “
Loki’s words are cut off with a growl as Yen begins stitching his wound closed.
Yen works steadily, cleaning and stitching away before wrapping all his cuts with clean strips of cloth. Her lip trapped between her teeth as her concentration is fully set on him and his health. Loki’s gaze never breaks from her focused face; a smug, proud smile stuck on his face as he watches her work.
“There, nearly as good as new.” Yen winks at him, “Though you’ll need new trousers before we feast with your brothers.”
“I don’t care about them.”
“Loki.”
“Not now.”
“We should be going shortly. You have explaining to do, to the others as well as to me.”
“Let me have this one moment more with you.” Loki tugs on her arms, pulling her close again, dragging his lips across hers. “Let me look at you, ask forgiveness. Let me kiss you, show you how I’ve missed you.”
“I suppose we have time for that, husband.”