Date: 2014-01-16 08:27 am (UTC)
ofsilvertongue: (Snarling.)
To protect him.

The laugh that bubbles out of his throat was harsh and broken, hardly a laugh at all for the raw sound it contains. They wanted to protect him.

Suddenly her touch was too much to bear and he jerked himself away from her with a shake of his head, re-establishing a distance between them because he could feel himself cracking, this being the final blow to the foundation of his strength and there was only so much pressure one single point could take before it splintered. "Protect me? Protect me?" His voice his barely more than a hiss, his eyes already burning despite his refusal to accept this weakness in him building, this mad hysteria that wanted to claw its way out of him.

Her words were missing something. Something important. Something key. "His hands were covered in Jotun blood. What difference would one more infant make? No, he took me for a reason." Of this, Loki was absolutely certain. Fate had nothing to do with it. His had been a rescue of opportunity. Why?"
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Frigga Of Asgard

January 2014

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