Part 27: the tricksters truth

The hallway to Loki's quarters was quiet - eerily so. Emery had never knocked on his door before. Usually, he appeared before she ever had to seek him out.But tonight, it felt like the right thing to do.

She stood in front of the smooth metal, heart thudding. Her hand hovered before she finally knocked - sharp, purposeful.

The door opened without a sound.

Loki stood inside, sleeves rolled, green silk shirt slightly rumpled, like he hadn't expected company - or maybe had hoped for it all the same. His dark hair was tucked behind his ears, eyes shadowed but alert.

"Emery," he said, voice low.

"Can I come in?"

He didn't answer - just stepped aside.

She entered, suddenly aware of how private his space felt. The lights were dimmed, books scattered like forgotten thoughts across a low table, and a glass of dark liquor sat untouched on the armrest of a leather chair.

He closed the door and turned to face her, watching carefully.

"I assume this isn't a social call," he said.

She shook her head.

Silence.

"You deserve the truth," she said finally.

His jaw ticked - just once. "Go on."

"I care about you. Deeply. You've seen me in ways no one else has - challenged me, cornered me, made me admit things I didn't even want to say aloud. I can't pretend that didn't matter."

"But..." Loki said, stepping closer, voice edged like a blade.

Her chest tightened. "But it's not... you."

His breath hitched, barely perceptible - but she saw it.

"I thought maybe it could be," she said. "You make it easy to fall into something dangerous. Something that burns bright and fast and wrecks everything on the way down."

Loki stepped closer again. "And him? He's safer?"

She didn't lie. "No. Not safer. Just... right."

Something flickered behind Loki's eyes - pain, brief and sharp, before it vanished behind his usual mask.

"I see."

"Loki-"

He held up a hand. "You don't owe me softness now, Emery."

Her shoulders slumped. "But I owe you honesty. You've been nothing but honest with me in your own way."

He was quiet. Then: "Do you love him?"

She hesitated - and that was answer enough.

Loki nodded once, slowly. "Then you must go."

"You're not angry?" she asked.

"I'm furious," he said, but his voice was calm, too calm. "Not with you. With myself. For letting it matter this much."

Her throat ached. "You mattered to me."

"I know."

She stepped forward, touched his hand - the barest graze.

"If the world ever needed saving again... you'd still be one of the first people I'd call."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And I'd still answer."

Another pause.

Then Loki leaned in, and for one quiet second she thought he might kiss her - but instead, he whispered:

"Don't break him. He's been broken enough."

Emery's breath caught.

"I won't," she promised.

Loki stepped back, shoulders set, regal in a way only gods could be. "Then go. Before I change my mind and convince you otherwise."

She gave him one last glance - and left.

Her heart was heavy... but clearer than it had been in weeks.

And she knew exactly where she needed to go next.