steve-g-rogers:

“Loki,” Darcy knocked on the prison’s sidewall, calling for his attention,“ How are you?" She dared to ask, knowing fully well all he felt was sorrow.

"How do you think I fare?” his voiced impassively. His mother has died earlier today, how else would he feel.

Silence fell between them. 

“I’m so-”

“How was the service,” he interrupted her unnecessary apology. It wasn’t her fault, he was at fault his mother was dead.

“It was beautiful,” her voiced cracked remember seeing Frigga ascend to Valhalla, “As was she. But Loki, please do keep in mind that she knew you loved her, and never doubted it.”

He turned away not wanting to hear anything from Darcy.