112A/N: This story was first conceived when as yet I knew Loki only from Thor and The Avengers and before any sequels or additions to Frozen had been made. It was one of the first stories I ever posted to FFN, when I was still a fairly immature writer who had simply gotten interested in an exciting new ship. After a hiatus of over two years, I have decided to attempt to overhaul and finish the story, at the urging of a persistent friend, but keep in mind that while I will be revising it to reflect the growth in my writing over the years in which it was abandoned, it cannot help but retain some of the flavor of that young, inexperienced writer I used to be.
In order to create this story for my ship, my younger self decided to go extremely AU with the Thor storyline, rearranging and changing the significance of some events and eliminating Thor's banishment to Earth entirely, which of course means that it is AU from all of the other films as well. I will be clarifying the details of the AU as I continue to rework the story. For now, all you need to know is that the events of Thor's interrupted coronation and the ensuing visit to Jötunheimr happened about two weeks prior to the beginning of the story, but Odin, instead of banishing Thor, has begun to prepare for war with the Frost Giants, confident that he will be victorious as he was in the past.
Disclaimer: Disney owns both the Marvel Cinematic Universe and Frozen. No copyright infringement is intended.
"It is indeed an honor to be here to witness your coronation, my lady." The mighty Asgardian prince raised Elsa's hand to his lips and kissed it delicately. He let his lips linger, though he was touching only cloth.
Elsa willed her hand to be still, willed the power to stay inside and not blast him away from her. This was absurd. Don't feel. Don't feel. Don't. Feel. She smiled serenely as he stepped back. "The honor, my lord Thor, is entirely mine." Valhalla, why did he have to stare at her like that? If he only knew what a slip of her hand could do…
The coronation of the ruler of Arendelle could be only a minor matter to the royal family of Asgard; they had done her an immeasurable honor by being here. Never in her twenty-one years would she have guessed that her one thought in meeting Odin the Allfather would be to wish that he would make his son stop looking at her.
"You are most gracious, Queen Elsa," said Odin, a kind look on his weathered face. "The Arens have always been among our most faithful followers on Midgard, and your parents—may their souls rest in peace in Valhalla—were noble rulers. We are glad to honor their memory."
"We are certain that they would be very proud of you," Frigga added, brushing a hand along Elsa's cheek.
Despite the unwelcome touch, their kind words sent a thread of warmth through her that calmed her spirit. She inclined her head gratefully.
"Loki!"
Odin's sudden sharpness drew Elsa's attention to the smaller and paler of the two princes, as he slowly turned his gaze from the tall windows along the east wall of the ballroom.
"Yes, Father?
Odin's white brow lowered dangerously. "Will you not pay your respects to the queen, my son?"
Something flickered across Loki's face, and his head jerked in a stiff nod. "Of course. My apologies." He took Elsa's hand and bowed over it as his brother had done. His hand felt cold even through her glove. "Congratulations, my lady," he said. The kiss he laid on her hand was rigid but mercifully quick, and as soon as it was done he let his arm fall. He stepped back, eyes already wandering again.
Odin's face darkened, and Elsa knew that Frigga's calming hand on his arm would do nothing to ease the storm of anger Loki's rudeness had provoked in his father. She cringed internally. Don't punish him on my account. Truly, I had much rather endure his rudeness than his brother's charm.
But it was at that very moment, unfortunately, that Thor reclaimed her attention. "My lady, would you do me the kindness of dancing with me?" He bowed and flashed a dazzling smile.
You have no idea what you're asking. Elsa glanced at Anna, who was caught up in conversation with an elderly couple. She hated to use her sister as an excuse again, but she could not dance. Too much movement, too much risk—and too much time with that obsequious, big-headed mountain of muscle. "I'm sorry, I don't dance. But my sister does."
Anna turned her head. "What?"
Elsa gestured helplessly at Thor as the big man turned and offered Anna his hand. "Your highness, would you give me the pleasure?"
"Oh!" Anna said. She glanced at Elsa. "Um, sure. I mean, I guess that's all right." She hurriedly excused herself to the couple and stepped towards Thor, obviously unsure how to take his upraised hand. She finally settled for grabbing it, as a baby grabs onto an adult's finger. Elsa covered her mouth to hide her smile as Thor made a smooth recovery and led Anna onto the dance floor.
"We will take up no more of Your Majesty's time," Odin said with a bow. "Congratulations."
"Thank you." Elsa watched them walk away, Loki trailing distractedly behind.
Elsa sighed with relief—silently. The hardest part, the congratulations, was over. They had all done their duty, and she had done hers. Now she had only to stand to the side and talk to a few people from time to time until the gates finally closed and she was safe. You can do this. Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let it show.
Thor was coming her way. He had another woman on his arm now—Anna had disappeared in a huff some time ago—and she didn't think he would bother her again, but she turned away all the same. No point in inviting trouble.
She found herself staring right into the face of the other brother. Prince Loki was standing a few feet away from her, motionless and completely alone, the other dignitaries moving past him as though he were a heedless boulder in the midst of a rushing stream. His eyes were distant, looking straight ahead and seeing nothing. Elsa caught her breath. She knew the look on his face.
Lost. He looked lost. Lost and frightened.
Some instinct she did not know she had brought her to his side. "Are you all right, my lord Loki?"
At first she thought he did not hear. It was a long time before his eyes came back from the nothingness to rest on her face, and even then he did not answer. But as he searched her face, a keen light that she had not seen before came into his eyes, and she had the sudden sense that he saw everything about her—saw far too much. Panic jolted through her. Conceal. He can't know anything if you don't let it show.
But his words confirmed her fears. "No more than you are, your majesty."
Elsa took a step back, clutching her hands to her chest. "How can you possibly know that?" she whispered.
Loki smiled for the first time. "The same way you know it of me." He held out his hand, and before she knew what she was doing, she had taken it, and he was leading her onto the dance floor. His hands were still cold.
"I thought you didn't dance, my lady," the prince said after a moment. The smile turned mischievous.
Her cheeks flushed. "I don't. Didn't. I—"
"Never mind. I wouldn't want to dance with my brother either."
She blushed darker still. "It isn't that."
"Of course it is. He's a shameless womanizer, and I'm pleased that you had the good sense to refuse him. He ought to experience rejection now and again."
"Your brother is a gentleman, I'm sure," Elsa murmured uncomfortably.
"Gentleman?" Loki laughed. "If Thor is a gentleman, then I pity all ladies." He twirled her, and for a moment Elsa was certain that the ice would go spinning from her outstretched hand. Somehow, miraculously, nothing happened. Loki brought her back in and added, "I didn't ask you to dance so we could talk about Thor."
Why had he asked her anyway?
Loki didn't speak again for a long time, and neither did she. She had to focus. She had to keep the power in. Again and again she told herself, Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let it show. Only once, her mantra was broken by a single thought: This is nice. She hadn't touched anyone for this long in years.
It soon became clear that Loki was slowly but steadily steering her to the edge of the ballroom, toward a glass door opening onto a balcony. It took her only a moment to decide to let him. There was something in her that wanted to hear what he had to say.
All at once, the air was cooler and cleaner, and there were stars overhead. The door closed behind them, bringing the noise of music and conversation down to a dull hum. They were alone.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Because you and I would both rather be out here than in there." Loki took a seat on the railing, and she followed, leaving a good space between them. There was a long silence.
"Very well, then. Neither of us is all right," she said at last, bringing him back to the exchange that had brought them together in the first place. "Most people are not in one way or another."
"True," he agreed.
Elsa waited. Unable to hold his gaze, she let her eyes wander along the railing behind him to the two large black birds were idly perched there, then down to the twinkling lights of the city below, and up again to the twinkling stars that mirrored them.
As her eyes drifted back to the prince, she finally saw it. There was something in Loki's right hand, a swatch of familiar light blue cloth. No. Valhalla, no! She looked down, afraid of what she knew she would see. Her left hand was bare. Somehow he had slipped her glove off when he had let go of her hand. She looked up, her mind swirling with anger and fear. "My lord Loki," she said in a slow, closely-controlled voice. "Be so good as to give me back my glove."
He was motionless as a statue. "Why?" A smile played around the corners of his mouth, but his eyes were intense, searching her again.
Conceal! Don't feel! Don't let him know! The chant became a scream inside her head. She was desperately clutching a fold of her dress, and the cloth was already beginning to freeze. Ice crept slowly down her dress; he would notice soon if he had not already.
"Prince Loki, please."
Loki merely raised an eyebrow.
The ice had reached the hem of her dress. It would spread out onto the floor next. He would slip when he got up, he would wonder how the ice got there, he would see her dress, and then he would know. And soon, everyone would know.
Suppressing a cry, Elsa thrust herself off the railing and walked to the opposite side of the little balcony, as far away from him as she could get. She stood there hugging herself, trying to cover her bare hand and hoping he wouldn't notice the tiny snowflakes hovering in the air around her. How could I have let this happen? her mind screamed. How did I let him corner me like this? There's no escape. No escape…
"Queen Elsa?"
She felt a hand on her shoulder. "Don't touch me!" she cried.
"Queen Elsa, look at me."
The voice was gentle. Too gentle for a man who was being so cruel. "No! Just—just give me my glove."
"Elsa, look at me."
Hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Elsa lowered her head and huddled into herself, but a hand came under her chin and forced her head up. She was facing a pair of red eyes, staring back at her out of an iron-gray face covered with strange designs. Elsa caught her breath. A jötunn.
"Don't scream. Please don't be afraid of me."
It was Loki's voice.
"I'm no monster, Elsa. I'm just another outcast. I'm just like you."
Elsa closed her eyes, fighting down panic. The jötnar were the stuff of nightmares, of horror stories or fables that adults told children to make them behave. She had never dreamed she would see one standing before her, speaking with a voice she knew, pleading with her.
The hands released her shoulders, and Elsa heard a sigh. She forced herself to look at him again.
"This is my secret," Loki said. "This is what burns in me every moment of every day. I don't understand, Elsa. I don't know why. I always believed I was Loki, son of Odin the Allfather. And then… I learned this. Now I don't know who I am, or where I came from, or how I came to be here. All I know is that I am a beast, hated and feared by all." He was panting, staring down at his stony hands as though they belonged to someone else.
"I don't hate you," Elsa whispered. "And I don't fear you." She reached out and touched his hands. Ice flashed from her fingertips. She snatched back her hand with a cry, but Loki seized it and pulled it back. An icy halo formed around their joined hands.
"You can't hurt me. I, too, am a creature of ice." Loki smiled at her. "So this is your secret."
Elsa sighed, relief and joy and sadness and peace all escaping in one frosty breath. They looked at each other for a long moment, simply enjoying the sharing of their secrets.
"Now give me my glove."
Loki's face fell, but he nodded and handed it over, his skin fading from gray-blue to its former pale. "Yes, my lady." He stepped to the door and laid his hand on the knob.
"Wait," Elsa said. "Let me breathe free a moment longer."
Loki shook his head. "You and I can never be free. There's no escape from the storm inside."
"No," Elsa said softly. "But to have someone understand is escape enough."
Revised as of January 2018
