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He was in the throne room. The shining gold walls made everything seem almost… unnatural. Seated on Odin's prized throne, finally feeling at home. At peace. But something was wrong.
Her mother approached the throne. She was smiling, but not a normal smile. One that was…. forced. Too wide to be natural.
“You did this, Loki.”
That’s when she noticed the blood spreading through the front of their mothers tunic.
They tried to reach for her, but he couldn’t move. It was too late. She was fading, dissolving into black stardust, same as the rest of the room. He stared helpless at his own body as everything began to dissolve, slowly turning into dust as he could do nothing to stop it.
Loki woke with a start, tears burning his eyes and tremors wracking his body. Lieing back down, they wiped the tear tracks from her face and gently laid her head back onto her sleeping paramour's chest, hoping to fall back asleep. After 30 minutes of trying to no avail, she got up and headed to their tiny kitchen with the big bay windows situated right on the coast of California.
The time on the oven read 3:19 am. Loki sighed, going to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. They thought about staying up until the sunrise, telling Mobius she just woke up early and “No, Moby, I didn’t have any nightmares, I would have woken you.” But then she had a better idea.
Wincing as the metal measuring cups clattered on the varnished wood countertops, she gathered all the ingredients needed to make a pie crust. Flour? Check. Butter? Check. Cold water? Check. With everything set on the counter, they quietly grabbed the remote and put on a random cable-tv movie.
It was… peaceful, this early (late?) in the morning. Just the sounds of the crickets outside and the familiar sounds of Legally Blonde playing on the tv (Mobius’s favorite movie). Baking always helped calm them down. The simplicity, the step by step of it, the “this is what you need to do and when you need to do it” of it all. It was calm. Patience and timing were key elements, and what was Loki if not a master of patience and timing?
Grabbing the frozen cherries from the freezer and putting them in a saucepan with a bit of sugar and water, Loki felt familiar arms wrap around her waist and the sweet feeling of his lover's lips softly brushing her neck.
“You’re awake.”
“You’re baking.”
“Just noticed?”
“Very funny, sweetheart. You should’ve woken me up.”
“Whatever for, darling?”
“You had a nightmare.”
Loki sighed at that, still astounded by their lover's ability to intuit every problem she had ever had from a simple action, an expression, the slight tension held in their shoulders leftover from the jarring nightmare.
“You looked peaceful.”
“You still should have woken me.” Mobius sighed, moving over to lean on the counter.
Tipping the cherries into the already waiting pie crust on the counter, Loki smiled sadly and chuckled.
“I didn’t want to be a bother.”
“Oh you’re always a bother, doll. Just not to me. Never to me. You know that.” Said Mobius, touching his forehead to his boyfriends.
“I know. I love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart. Now put that in the oven so we can cuddle on the couch.”
Kissing their boyfriend one more time before putting the pie in the already preheated oven (Loki actually forgot to preheat the oven, but magic is certainly useful, isn’t it?) and going to join Mobius on the couch.
Loki loved these nights. God, he did. Relaxing in the arms of someone she loved, trusting that in that moment? Everything is alright. No one was out to get her, no one was trying to hurt him, and everything was just. Fine. Quiet conversations with his head in Mobius’s lap, talking about anything from the universe to “is Die Hard a Christmas movie?” (Mobius votes yes, Loki votes no. They asked Thor once, and although he didn’t understand the question, he went with Mobius because Odin forbid Thor and Loki agree on something).
Feeling safe, feeling loved. Cared for. Content. And a million other adjectives too. But right now, right here, with the clock on the oven reading 3:46 AM and the smell of cherry pie perfuming their beachside cottage, they were alright. And that was enough.