Your marriage to Loki wasn't a love story. It wasn't even a story, really. An arrangement. A deal struck between kingdoms, alliances forged through ancient custom and reluctant vows. You stood at the altar with your chin high and your heart locked away, and Loki? He was similar just cold and seeming annoyed the wedding was happening in the first place.

But after the ceremony, there was nothing. No fights. No flirting. No warmth. Just... silence. The two of you coexisted like matching statues in a palace too large to fill- passing each other in the halls without a word, sitting at opposite ends of cold, lavish rooms. You didn't even speak his name. You refused to.

Not until the chaos of battle erupted across Asgard's golden horizon, your joint peace shattered by the return of Hela-Thor and Loki's sister, the goddess of death herself. In the middle of the fight, you lost track of Loki. When you finally spotted him, he was crumpled on the battlefield, blood trailing down the corner of his mouth, magic flickering like a dying flame.

And without thinking you yelled his name. It was more of a command for him to get up cause you could not afford to lose someone who could help win this fight. He stirred, coughing as he looked up at you through bloodied lashes, something between a smirk and a grimace twisting on his face.

"Say my name again."