Loki spent hours, days, maybe longer, in his room mourning the loss of his love, of his family, his old life. All of those feelings had come back to the surface and he had no choice but to let them out. He lost track of time as he mourned.

Due to the way the spells were set up around his suite, Breya had the ability to slip through his shields. She came and brought him food and made sure he ate and slept and cared for himself as much as he could. She didn't dare let the people know about his condition or how he got to be that way.

From her much more logical and rational point of view, it was a couple of days before he came back to himself. His heartbreak had taken more of a toll on him than he had originally thought.

Breya was sitting by his bedside when he woke. She looked up from her book and gave him a small smile. "Welcome back to the land of the living," she greeted her brother warmly, glad to see him awake.

Loki glared at her, angry and distrustful. "Why are you here, Breya?" He demanded in a snarl.

She cringed like he'd slapped her. "I just brought you dinner. I'm sorry!" She scrambled up to leave, clutching her book to her chest. She was so little and Loki tried to remind himself that she was not only his sister, but barely not a child.

Loki groaned as he sat up and schooled his expression, running his fingers through his hair. "I apologize. I'm just...not myself," he said gently, trying to soothe her

She nodded, but didn't relax. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I'm-" she scurried from his suite, afraid of him and his anger.

Loki sighed, tears forming in his eyes over the monster he'd become. He'd scared his sibling and his only ally on this realm. He curled back up in his bed and drowned his sorrow in more sobs.

He eventually returned to his duties, who knew how much longer later. He was practically a robot while he did, though. He completed his duties for the day and then returns to his room on repeat and remained this way for a long time with no emotions.

*

"Do you want to go home to her?" Breya asked him one day about five minutes after she'd managed to get back in his good graces. They were sitting together in Loki's sitting room, safe from prying ears. It was one of the first times she'd braved talking to him about anything other than her duties.

Loki shook his head firmly. "I can't. I'm only a danger to her. It is better this way," his voice was dull and lifeless. His expression stone like.

"You hate it here and you miss her," Breya pressed her luck that he wouldn't just get angry with her. She paused and considered something. "Wait. You were raised on Asgard. You never learned to control your Jotun abilities, did you? Is that what this is about?" She asked too astutely.

Loki raised an eyebrow and gave her his full attention. "What are you getting at?" He asked, showing real interest. Maybe she knew something.

She fidgeted anxiously and blushed a light purple. "Just... you said you're a danger to her... I thought..." she shook her head, trailing off when she lost that last bit of bravery.

"I have a duty to Jotunheim. There is nothing we can do to change that. Morgana is better off without me. She will find someone that is much more suited for her than I ever was," Loki replied, resigned to the situation. He was still stuck in Jotun form too. Morgan was far better off without a monster like him.

"There is something we can do to change that," she said so softly that her voice as barely above a whisper. She wouldn't look at him, too afraid for that. "I know you hate it here and have since you arrived. I took the liberty of finding out how to get you off the throne..." she explained, afraid he was going to snap at her.

"So?" He demanded, his tone unreadable.

She didn't know what to make of that question. She figured she had pissed him off. "So I'll get out of your hair," she replied and scrambled to her feet to do just that.

"Breya, please don't leave," his voice sounded weak and hurt, showing just how much he had been affected by loss and sorrow. He was worse off now than he'd ever been and his Jotun form seemed more firmly stuck, if that were even possible. Breya nodded hesitantly and took her seat again, looking ready to bolt. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you. I just...I love her. I just thought she would be better without me. I've pushed away everyone I care about. You're all I have left..." Loki admitted softly, though he would rarely, if ever, admit his feeling to anyone. But then again, she was family.

"She loves you too to risk coming all the way to Jotunheim to find you," she reminded him tentatively.

Loki groaned. "I know, but I wish she hadn't. I left to keep her safe," he said stubbornly and firmly.

"Because you lost control of your Jotun abilities?" She asked gently, finally seeming to get somewhere with her brother.

Loki nodded, though didn't look at her while he picked at his hands. "I didn't know I was Jotun until a few years ago. It was kept from me by the Allfather. I've never learned how to possibly control these powers," he admitted. He hated admitting weaknesses, even to family, but she needed to know.

She nodded and gave him a gentle reassuring look. She was so sweet for one of the Jotnar. "It happens to all of us at some point," she told him, gentling her tone. She hesitated for a moment before she asked what needed to be asked. "Do you want to learn how to control it?"

Loki's eyes widened in shock. For all of his magical studies, for everything he'd learned over the centuries, he hadn't realized that it could be controlled. Of course all magic could be controlled. He just had to learn how. "Please. I don't want to risk hurting anyone else,"

She nodded and gave him a warm smile before she started the first lesson on how to control his Jotun abilities. The simplest lesson was summoning ice at will. Loki grasped that one quickly and they moved on.

*

The lessons continued for a couple of months until Loki could control his Jotun abilities and pass any test Breya threw his way. He finally felt more comfortable in his skin once he knew how to control his abilities. They felt like more of a part of him now and it was such a relief.

"You said something about being able to get me off the throne. How is that possible?" Loki asked as they were enjoying tea by the fire in his sitting room one evening after a long day at court.

"You can step down from the throne if you've named a successor or another heir of Laufey's is found to take the throne from you," Breya explained, her words were careful as she gave him his options.

"And that would be you," he surmised.

She nodded "Or whoever else you name," she replied, not wanting to push herself onto him.

"Are you up for that?" Loki asked her gently. She was the one he would want to leave the throne to. She actually cared about the people and was less... barbaric... than the rest of the Jotuns.

She rolled her eyes. "I've been practically ruling for years," she reminded him. "Including keeping your ass from getting skewered twenty times on your first week on the throne,"

"I know. I'm not really surprised that most of the Jotuns wanted me dead," Loki laughed darkly.

"You didn't have to try to change everything the first day," she teased. She'd stopped three assassination attempts that day alone.

Loki shrugged. "Oh well," he replied teasingly.

She gave him a warm smile. "So you can go home whenever you want," she told him brightly.

Loki grew nervous and went back to his usual coping mechanism of picking at his hands, floating his cup of tea in the air so he didn't have to set it down while he fiddled with his nervous tick. "I don't-I don't know if that's a good idea," he admitted softly.

She rolled her eyes, much more at ease with her brother after months of lessons with him. "It's awfully hard to get your friends, family, and love back if you don't go home," she reminded him overly-patiently.

He sighed heavily. "I know," he also knew that he needed to go home, get his life back, fix all the mistakes he'd made. He dreaded it. He'd never been good at the fixing things. He was really good at fucking up his life, not the other way around. He stood, steeling his resolve. "I should go. I've been gone long enough," he said before he could lose his nerve to go home.

Breya nodded and stood, summoning an official document as she did. She'd been stashing it for this moment in case he wanted to leave. She had a feeling he would eventually. He hated being on Jotunheim and had hated it since the moment he'd arrived on the realm. "One signature and you're free of the throne," she told him with an impish grin, one he recognized from seeing it in the mirror.

Loki took the document, read it over quickly, smirked when he noted that Breya's name had already been filled in on it, and signed it elegantly with a feather quill that he summoned. He gave his sister a warm smile as he handed it back. "Congratulations, sister. Jotunheim is yours,"

She took it in hands that trembled a little. She never really expected to have real power, to really be the ruler and not just an advisor. "Don't be a stranger, brother," she replied, her voice full of emotion.

"I won't be. I just found you. I don't plan to lose touch with you. And thank you for this, for everything," he told her and pulled her into a hug.

She hugged him back tightly, careful not to crumple the document she was holding. "You're always welcome here. Good luck," she wished him.

"And to you, Queen of Jotunheim," he replied. He quickly packed the few things he wanted to take with him and made his way outside where he could call the Bifrost. He lowered his defenses on himself. And nearly before he could call to Heimdall, the Bifrost opened around him, pulling him to Asgard. That was were he'd been wanting to go anywhere. There were things he needed to do before he returned to Morgan.

The first was seeing his mother.